ORLANDO FURIOSO IN ENGLISH HEROICAL VERSE, BY JOHN HARINGTOn OF BATHE KNIGHT. Now secondly imprinted the year. 1607.  
Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.  
Horace   

A NOTE OF THE MATTERS CONTAINED IN THIS WHOLE VOLUME.  

The Epistle dedicatory to the Queen's Majesty.  
The Apology.  
An advertisement to the Reader.  
The first twenty-three Cantos, or books of Orlando Furioso, ending with Orlando's falling mad.  
The other twenty-three Cantos of Orlando Furioso, in which he recovered his wits; ending with Bradamants marriage.  
A general Allegory of the whole.  
The life of Ariosto.  
The Table of the book.  
The Tales    

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT, VIRTUOUS, AND NOBLE PRINCESS, ELIZABETH BY THE GRACE OF GOD QUEEN OF ENGLAND, FRANCE AND IRELAND, DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, etc.  
MOST Renowned (& most worthy to be most renowned) sovereign Lady; I presume to offer to your Highness this first part of the fruit of the little garden of my slender skill. It hath been the longer in growing, and is the less worthy the gathering, because my ground is barren & too cold for such dainty Italian fruits, being also perhaps overshaded with trees of some older growth: but the beams of your blessed countenance, vouchsafing to shine on so poor a soil, shall soon disperse all hurtful mists that would obscure it, and easily dissolve all (whether they be Mel-dews, or Fel-dews) that would starve this shallow set plant. I desire to be brief, because I love to be plain. Whatsoever I am or can, is your Majesties. Your gracious favours have been extended in my poor family even to the third generation, your bounty to us and our heirs. Wherhfore this (though unperfect and unworthy work) I humbly recommend to that gracious protection, under which I enjoy all in which I can take joy. If your Highness will read it, who dare reject it? if allow it, who can reprove it? if protect it, what MOMUS barking, or ZOILUS biting can any way hurt or annoy it? And thus most humbly craving pardon for this boldness, I cease to write, though I will not cease to wish, that your high felicities may never cease.  
Your most humble servant, JOHN HARINGTON.   

A PREFACE, OR RATHER A BRIEF APOLOGY OF POETRY, AND OF THE Author and Translator of this Poem.  
THe learned Plutarch in his laconical Apothegms, tells of a Sophister that made a long and tedious Oration in praise of Hercules, and expecting at the end thereof for some great thanks and applause of the hearers, a certain Lacedaemonian demanded him, who had dispraised Hercules? Me thinks the like may be now said to me, taking upon me the defence of Poesy: for surely if learning in general were of that account among us, as it ought to be among all men, and is among wise men, than should this my Apology of Poesy (the very first nurse and ancient grandmother of all learning) be as vain and superfluous as was that Sophisters, because it might then be answered and truly answered, that no man disgraced it. But sith we live in such a time, in which nothing can escape the envious tooth and backiting tongue of an impure mouth, and wherein every blind corner hath a squint-eyed Zoilus, that can look aright upon no man's doings, (yea sure there be some that will not stick to call Hercules himself a dastard, because forsooth he fought with a club and not at the rapier and dagger:) therefore I think no man of judgement will judge this my labour needless, in seeking to remove away those slanders that either the malice of those that love it not, or the folly of those that understand it not, hath devised against it: for indeed as the old saying is, Scientia non habet inimicum praeter ignorantem: Knowledge hath no so but the ignorant. 
The division of the Apology 〈◊〉 three parts.  But now because I make account I have to deal with three sundry kinds of reprovers, one of those that condemn all Poetry, which (how strong head soever they have) I count but a very weak faction; another of those that allow Poetry, but not this particular Poem, of which kind sure there cannot be many: a third of those that can bear with the art, and like of the work, but will find fault with my not well handling of it, which they may not only probably, but I doubt too truly do, being a thing as commonly done as said, that where the hedge is lowest, there doth every man go over. Therefore against these three I must arm me with the best defensive weapons I can: and if I happen to give a blow now and then in mine own defence, and as good fencers use to ward and strike at once, I must crave pardon of course, seeing our law allows that is done se defendendo: and the law of nature teacheth vim vi repellere. First therefore of Poetry itself, 
Of Poetry.  for those few that generally disallow it, might be sufficient to allege those many that generally approve it, of which I could bring in such an army, not of soldiers, but of famous Kings and captains, as not only the sight, but the very sound of them were able to vanquish and dismay the small forces of our adversaries. For who would once dare to oppose himself against so many Alexanders, Caesars, Scipios, (to omit infinite other Princes, both of former and later ages, and of foreign and nearer countries) that with favour, with study, with practice, with example, with honours, with gifts, with preferments, with great and magnificent cost, have encouraged and advanced Poets and Poetry? As witness the huge theatres and Amphitheatres, monuments of stupendious charge, made only for Tragedies and Comedies, the works of Poets to be represented on: but all these aides and defences I leave as superfluous, my cause I count so good, and the evidence so open, that I neither need to use the countenance of any great state to bolster it, nor the cunning of any subtle lawyer to enforce it: my meaning is plainly and bonafide, confessing all the abuses that can truly be objected against some kind of Poets, to show you what good use there is of Poetry. Neither do I suppose it to be greatly behoveful for this purpose, to trouble you with the curious definitions of a Poet and Poesy, and with the subtle distinctions of their sundry kinds, nor to dispute how high and supernatural the name of a Maker is, so christened in English by that unknown Godfather, that this last year save one, viz. 1589. set forth a book, called the Art of English Poetry: and lest of all do I purpose to bestow any long time to argue, whether Plato, Zenophon and Erasmus, writing fictions and dialogues in prose, may justly be called Poes'; or whether Lucan writing a story in verse be an Historiographer, or whether Master Fair translating Virgil, Master Golding translating Ovid's Metamorphosis, and myself in this work that you see, be any more than versifiers, as the same Ignoto termeth all translators: for as for all, or the most part of such questions, I will refer you to Sir Philip Sidneys Apology, who doth handle them right learnedly, or to the forenamed treatise, where they are discoursed more largely, and where, as it were a whole receipt of Poetry is prescribed, with so many new named figures, as would put me in great hope in this age to come would breed many excellent Poets, save for one observation that I gather out of the very same book. For though the poor gentleman laboureth greatly to prove, or rather to make Poetry an art, and reciteth as you may see in the plural number, some pluralities of patterns, and parcels of his own Poetry, with divers pieces of Partheniads and hymns in praise of the most praiseworthy: yet whatsoever he would prove by all these, sure in my poor opinion he doth prove nothing more plainly, then that which M. Sidney and all the learneder sort that have written of it do pronounce, namely that it is a gift and not an art; I say he proveth it, because making himself and many others so cunning in the art, yet he showeth himself so slender a gift in it, deserving to be commended as martial praiseth one that he compares to Tully: 
Carmina quod scribis, musis & Apolline nullo  
Laudari debes, hoc Ciceronis habes.  But to come to the purpose, and to speak after the phrase of the common sort, that term all that is written in verse Poetry, and rather in scorn then in praise, bestow the name of a Poet on every base rhymer and ballad-maker: this I say of it, and I think I say truly, that there are many good lessons to be learned out of it, many good examples to be found in it, many good uses to be had of it, and that therefore it is not, nor ought not to be despised by the wiser sort, but so to be studied and employed, as was intended by the first writers and devisers thereof, which is to soften and polish the hard and rough dispositions of men, and make them capable of virtue and good discipline.  
I cannot deny but to us that are Christians, in respect of the high end of all, which is the health of our souls, not only Poetry, but all other studies of Philosophy, are in a manner vain and superfluous: yea (as the wise man faith) whatsoever is under the sun is vanity of vanities, and nothing but vanity. But sith we live with men and not with saints, and because few men can embrace this strict and stoical divinity, or rather indeed, for that the holy Scriptures, in which those high mysteries of our salvation are contained, are a deep and profound study, and not subject to every weak capacity, no nor to the highest wits and judgements, except they be first illuminate by God's spirit, or instructed by his teachers and preachers: therefore we do first read some other authors, making them as it were a looking-glass to the eyes of our mind; and then after we have gathered more strength, we enter into profounder studies of higher mysteries, having first as it were enabled our eyes by long beholding the sun in a basin of water, at last to look upon the sun itself. So we read how that great Moses, whose learning and sanctity is so renowned over all nations, was first instructed in the learning of the Egyptians, before he came to that high contemplation of God and familiarity (as I may so term it) with God. So the notable Prophet Daniel was brought up in the learning of the Chaldeans, and made that the first step of his higher vocation to be a Prophet. If then we may by the example of two such special servants of God, spend some of our young years in studies of humanity, what better and more sweet study is there for a young man then Poetry? specially Heroical Poesy, that with her sweet stateliness doth erect the mind, and lift it up to the consideration of the highest matters; and allureth them, that of themselves would otherwise loath them, to take and swallow and digest the wholesome precepts of Philosophy, and many times even of the true Divinity. 
Plutarch de audiendis Poetis.  Wherefore Plutarch having written a whole treatise of the praise of Homer's works, and another of reading Poets, doth begin this latter with this comparison, that as men that are sickly and have weak stomachs or dainty tastes, do many times think that flesh most delicate to eat, that is not flesh, and those fishes that be not fish: so young men (saith he) do like best that Philosophy that is not Philosophy, or that is not delivered as Philosophy: and such are the pleasant writings of learned Poets, that are the popular Philosophers and the popular Divines. 
Tasso. Canto 1. staff 3.  Likewise Tasso in his excellent work of jerusalem Liberato, likeneth Poetry to the Physic that men give unto little children when they are sick: his verse is this in Italian, speaking to God with a pretty Prosopopeia: 
Sai, che la corre il mondo, oue piu versi  
Di sue dulcezze, il lusingier Parnaso:  
E che'lvero condito in molli versi.  
I piuschivi allettando ha persuaso  
Cosi al'egro fanciul porgiamo asperso  
Disoavi liquor gli Orli del vaso  
Succhi amari ing annato in tanto ei beve  
E dal inganno suo vita receive.  
Thou know'st, the want on worldlings ever run  
To sweet Parnassus' fruits, how otherwhile  
The truth well sawed with pleasant verse hath won  
Most squeamish stomachs with the sugared stile:  
So the sick child that potions all doth shun,  
With comfits and with sugar we beguile,  
And cause him take a wholesome sour receipt,  
He drinks, and saves his life with such deceit.  This is then that honest fraud, in which (as Plutarch saith) he that is deceived is wiser than he that is not deceived, and he that doth deceive, is honester than he that doth not deceive.  
But briefly to answer to the chief objections, 
Agrippa de vanitate scientiarum. cap. 4.  Cornelius Agrippa, a man of learning and authority not to be despised, maketh a bitter invective against Poets and Poesy, and the sum of his reproof of it is this (which is all that can with any probablitie be said against it: 
Four objections against Poetry. ) That it is a nurse of lies, a pleaser of fools, a breeder of dangerous errors, and an enticer to wantonness. I might here warn those that will urge this man's authority to the disgrace of Poetry, to take heed (of what calling soever they be) lest with the same weapon that they think to give Poetry a blow, they give themselves a maim. For Agrippa taketh his pleasure of greater matters than Poetry: I marvel how he durst do it, save that I see he hath done it, he hath spared neither miters nor sceptres. The courts of Princes, where virtue is rewarded, justice maintained, oppressions relieved, he calls them a College of Giants, of tyrants, of oppressors, warriors: the most noble sort of noble men, he termeth cursed, bloody, wicked, and sacrilegious persons. Noble men (and us poor Gentlemen) that think to borrow praise of our ancestors deserts and good fame, he affirmeth to be a race of the sturdier sort of knaves, and licentious livers. Treasurers and other great officers of the common wealth, with grave counsellors, whose wise heads are the pillars of the state, he affirmeth generally to be robbers and peelers of the realm, and privy traitors that sell their Prince's favours, and rob well-deserving servitors of their reward. I omit as his peccadilias, how he nicknameth priests saying, for the most part they are hypocrites; lawyers, saying they are all thieves; physicians, saying they are many of them murderers: so as I think it were a good motion, and would easily pass by the consent of the three estates, that this man's authority should be utterly ad●ihilated, that dealeth so hardly and unjustly with all sorts of professions. But for the rejecting of his writings, I refer it to others that have power to do it, and to condemn him for a general libeler, but for that he writeth against Poetry, 
Answer to the first of lying.  I mean to speak a word or two in refuting thereof. And first for lying, I might if I list excuse it by the rule of Poetica licentia, and claim a privilege given to Poetry, whose art is but an imitation (as Aristotle calleth it) and therefore are allowed to feign what they list, according to that old verse, 
juridicis, Erebo, fisco, fas vivere rapto,  
Militibus, medicis, tortori, occidere Ludo est:  
Mentiri Astronomis, pictoribus atque Poetis.  
Which because I count it without reason, I will English it without rhyme.  
Lawyers, Hell, and the chequer are allowed to live on spoil,  
Soldiers, Physicians, and hangmen make a sport of murder,  
Astronomers, Painters, and Poets may lie by authority.  Thus you see, that Poets may lie if they list Cum privilegio: but what if they lie least of all other men? what if they lie not at all? then I think that great slander is very unjustly raised upon them. For in my opinion they are said properly to lie, that affirm that to be true that is false: and how other arts can free themselves from this blame let them look that profess them: but Poets never affirming any for true, but presenting them to us as fables and imitations, cannot lie though they would: and because this objection of lies is the chiefest, and that upon which the rest be grounded, I will stand the longer upon the clearing thereof.  
The ancient Poets have indeed wrapped as it were in their writings divers and sundry meanings, which they call the senses or mysteries thereof. First of all for the literal sense (as it were the utmost bark or ryne) they set down in manner of an history, the acts and notable exploits of some persons worthy memory; then in the same fiction, as a second rind and somewhat more fine, as it were nearer to the pith and marrow, they place the Moral sense, profitable for the active life of many, approving virtuous actions, and condemning the contrary. Many times also under the selfsame words they comprehend some true understanding of natural Philosophíe, or sometime of politic government, and now and then of divinity: and these same senses that comprehend so excellent knowledge we call the Allegory, which Plutarch defineth to be when one thing is told, and by that another is understood. Now let any man judge, if it be a matter of mean art or wit, to contain in one historical narration either true or feigned, so many, so diverse, and so deep conceits: but for making the matter more plain I will allege an example thereof.  
Perseus' son of jupiter is feigned by the Poets to have slain Gorgon, 
Ovid's Meta●●orph. 4.  and after that conquest achieved, to have flown up to heaven. The Historical sense is this, Perseus the son of jupiter, by the participation of jupiter's virtues that were in him; or rather coming of the stock of one of the kings of Crete, or Athens so called; slew Gorgon a tyrant in that country (Gorgon in greek signifieth earth) and was for his virtuous parts exalted by men up into heaven. Morally it signifieth thus much, Perseus a wise man, son of jupiter endued with virtue from above, slayeth sin and vice, a thing base and earthly; signified by Gorgon, and so mounteth to the sky of virtue: It signifies in one kind of Allegory thus much; the mind of man being gotten by God, and so the child of God, killing and vanquishing the earthliness of this Gorgonicall nature, ascendeth up to the understanding of heavenly things, of high things, of eternal things, in which contemplation consisteth the perfection of man: this is the natural allegory, because man, one of the chief works of nature: It hath also a more high and heavenly Allegory, that the heavenly nature, daughter of jupiter, procuring with her continual motion, corruption and mortality in the interior bodies, severed itself at last from these earthly bodies, and flew up on high, and there remaineth for ever. It hath also another Theological Allegory, that the angelical nature, daughter of the most high God the creator of all things; killing and overcoming all bodily substance, signified by Gorgon, ascended into heaven: the like infinite Allegories I could pick out of other Poetical fictions, save that I would avoid tediousness. It sufficeth me therefore to note this, that the men of greatest learning and highest wit in the ancient times, did of purpose conceal these deep mysteries of learning, and as it were cover them with the veil of fables and verse for sundry causes: one cause was, that they might not be rashly abused by profane wits, in whom science is corrupted, like good wine in a bad vessel: another cause why they wrote in verse, was conservation of the memory of their precepts, as we see yet the general rules almost of every art, not so much as husbandry, but they are of●ner recited and better remembered in verse then in prose: another, and a principal cause of all, is to be able with one kind of meat and one dish (as I may so call it) to feed divers-tastes. For the weaker capacities will feed themselves with the pleasantness of the history and sweetness of the verse, some that have stronger stomachs will as it were take a further taste of the Moralisence, a third sort more high conceited then they, will digest the Allegory: so as indeed it hath been thought by men of very good judgement, such manner of Poetical writing was an excellent way to preserve all kind of learning from that corruption which now it is come to since they left that mystical writing of verse. Now though I know the example and authority of Aristotle and Plato be still urged against this, who took to themselves another manner of writing: first I may say indeed that laws were made for poor men, and not for Princes, for these two great Princes of Philosophy, broke that former allowed manner of writing, yet Plato still preserved the fable, but refused the verse. Aristotle though rejecting both, yet retained still a kind of obscurity, insomuch he answered Alexander, who reproved him in a sort, for publishing the sacred secrets of Philosophy, that he had set forth his books in a sort, and yet not set them forth; meaning that they were so obscure that they would be understood of few, except they came to him for instructions; or else without they were of very good capacity and studious of Philosophy. But (as I say) Plato howsoever men would make him an enemy of Poetry (because he found indeed just fault with the abuses of some comical Poets of his time, or some that sought to set up new and strange religions) yet you see he kept still l that principal part of Poetry, which is fiction and imitation; and as for the other part of Poetry which is verse, though he used it not, yet his master Socrates even in his old age wrote certain verses, as Plutarch testifieth: but because I have named the two parts of Poetry, namely invention or fiction, and verse, let us see how well we can authorize the use of both these. First for fiction, against which as I told before, many inveigh, calling it by the foul name of lying, though notwithstanding, as I then said, it is farthest from it: Demosthenes the famous and renowned Orator, when he would persuade the Athenians to war against Philip, told them a solemn tale how the Wolves on a time sent Ambassadors to the sheep, offering them peace if they would deliver up the dogs that kept their folds, with all that long circumstance (needless to be repeated) by which he persuaded them far more strongly than if he should have told them in plain terms, that Philip sought to bereave them of their chief bulwarks & defences, to have the better ability to overthrow them. But what need we fetch an authority so far off from heathen authors, that have many nearer hand both in time and in place? Bishop Fisher a stout Prelate though I do not praise his Religion) when he was assayed by king Henry the eight for his good will and assent for the suppression of Abbeys, the king alleging that he would but take away the superfluities, and let the substance stand still, or at least see it converted to better and more godly uses: the grave Bishop answered it in this kind of Poetical parable: He said there was an axe that wanting a helue came to a thick and huge overgrown wood, and be sought some of the great oaks in that wood, to spare him so much timber as to make him a handle or helue, promising that if he might find that favour, he would in recompense thereof, have great regard in preserving that wood, in pruning the branches, in cu●●ing away the unprofitable and superfluous boughs, in paring away the b●yers and thorns that were cumbersome to the fair trees, and making it in fine a grove of great delight and pleasure: but when this same axe had obtained his su●e, he so laid about him, and so pared away both timber and top and lop, that in short space of a woodland he made it a champion, and made her liberality the instrument of her overthrow.  
Now though this Bishop had no very good success with his parable, yet it was so far from being counted a lie, that it was plainly seen soon after that the same axe did both hue down those woods by the roots, and pared him off by the head, and was a piece of Prophecy, as well as a piece of Poetry: and indeed Prophets and Poets have been thought to have a great affinity, as the name Vates in Latin doth testify. But to come again to this manner of fiction or parable, the Prophet Nathan, reproving king David for his great sin of adultery and murder, doth he not come to him with a pretty parable, of a poor man and his lamb that lay in his bosom, and eat of his bread, and the rich man that had whole flocks of his own would needs take it from him? In which as it is evident it was but a parable, so it were unreverent and almost blasphemous to say it was a lie. But to go higher, did not our Saviour himself speak in parables? as that divine parable of the sour, that comfortable parable of the Prodigal son, that dreadful parable of Dives and Lazarus, though I know of this last, many of the fathers hold that it is a story indeed, and no parable. But in the rest it is manifest, that he that was all holiness, all wisdom, all truth, used parables, and even such as discreet Poets use, where a good and honest and wholesome Allegory is hidden in a pleasant and pretty fiction, 
Two parts of Poetry, Imitation or invention, and Verse.  and therefore for that part of Poetry of Imitation, I think no body will make any question, but it is not only allowable, but godly and commendable, if the Poets ill handling of it do nor mar and pervert the good use of it. The other part of Poetry, which is Verse, as it were the clothing or ornament of it, hath many good uses; of the help of memory I spoke somewhat before; for the words being couched together in due order, measure, and number, one doth as it were bring on another, as myself have often proved, and so I think do many beside, (though for my own part I can rather boast of the marring a good memory, then of having one,) yet I have ever found, that Verse is easier to learn, and far better to preserve in memory, then is prose. Another special grace in Verse is the forcible manner of phrase, in which if it be well made, it far excelleth loose speech or prose: a third is the pleasure and sweetness to the ear, which makes the discourse pleasant unto us often time when the matter itself is harsh and unacceptable; for my own part I was never yet so good a husband, to take any delight to hear● one of mv ploughmen tell how an acre of wheat must be fallowd and twy fallowd, and how cold land should be burned, and how fruitful land must be well harrowed, but when I hear one read Virgil where he saith: 
Saepe etiam steriles incendere profuit agros,  
Atque levem stipulam crepitantibus urere flammis.  
Sive inde occultas vires & pabula terrae  
Pinguia concipiunt; sive illis omne per ●onem  
Excoquitur vitium, atque exsudat inutilis humour, etc.   
And after. 
Mulium adeo, rastris glebas qui frangit inertes  
Vimineasque trahit crates, juuat arua.   
With many other lessons of homely husbandry, but delivered in so good Verse that me thinks all that while I could find in my heart to drive the plough. But now for the authority of Verse, if it be not sufficient to say for them, that the greatest Philosophers, and gravest Senators that ever were, have used them both in their speeches and in their writings, that precepts of all Arts have been delivered in them, that verse is as ancient a writing as prose, and indeed more ancient, in respect that the oldest works extant be verse, as Orphaeus, Linus, Hesiodus, and others beyond memory of man, or mention almost of history; if none of these will serve for the credit of it, yet let this serve, that some part of the Scripture was written in verse, as the Psalms of David, and certain other songs of Deborah, of Solomon and others, which the learnedest divines do affirm to be verse, and find that they are in meeter, though the rule of the Hebrew verse they agree not on. Sufficeth it me only to prove that by the authority of sacred Scriptures, both parts of Poesy, invention or imitation, and verse are allowable, and consequently that great objection of lying is quite taken away and refuted. Now the second objection is pleasing of fools; I have already showed, how it displeaseth not wise men, 
Answer to the s●●ond objection.  now if it have this virtue to, to please the fools, and ignorant, I would think this an article of praise not of rebuke: wherefore I confess that it pleaseth fools and so pleaseth them, that if they mark it and observe it well, it will in time make them wise, for in verse is both goodness and sweetness, Rhubarb and Sugercandie, the pleasant and the profitable: wherefore as Horace saith, Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci, he that can mingle the sweet and wholesome, the pleasant and the profitable, he is indeed an absolute good writer, & such be Poets, if any be such, they present unto us a pretty tale, able to keep a child from play, and an old man from the chimney corner: Or as the same Horace saith, to a covetous man: 
Tantalus à labris sitiens fugientia captat  
Flumina, quid rides? mutato nomine de te  
Fabula narratur.   
One tells a covetous man a tale of Tantalus, that sits up to the chin in water, and yet is plagued with thirst. This signifies the selfsame man to whom the tale is told, that wallows in plenty, and yet his miserable mind bars him of the use of it: As myself known and I am sure many remember justice Randall of London, a man passing impotent in body but much more in mind, that leaving behind him a thousand pounds of gold in a chest full of old boots and shoes, yet was so miserable, that at my Lord majors dinner they say he would put up a widgen for his supper, and many a good meal he did take of his frank neighbour the widow pen: but to come to the matter, this same great sin that is laid to Poetry of pleasing fools, 
A 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉  is fufficiently answered if it be worth the answering. Now for the breeding of errors which is the third Objection, I see not why it should breed any when none is bound to believe that they write, nor they look not to have their fictions believed in the literal sense, and therefore he that well examine whence errors spring, shall find the writers of prose & not of verse, the authors and maintainers of them, and this point I count so manifest as it needs no proof. The last reproof is lightness and wantonness, this is indeed an Objection of some importance, sith as Sir Philip Sidney confesseth, Cupid is crept even into the Heroical Poems, & consequently maketh that also, subject to this reproof: I promised in the beginning not partially to praise Poesy, but plainly and honestly to confess that, that might truly be objected against it, and if any thing may be, sure it is this lasciviousness; yet this I will say, that of all kind of Poesy, the Heroical is least infected therewith. The other kinds I will rather excuse then defend, though of all the kinds of Poesy it may be said, where any scurrility and lewdness is found, there Poetry doth not abuse us, but writers have abused Poetry. And briefly to examine all the kinds: First the Tragical is merely free from it, as representing only the cruel and lawless proceedings of Princes, moving nothing but pity or detestation. The Comical (whatsoever foolish play makers make it offend in this kind) yet being rightly used, it represents them so as to make the vice scorned and not embraced. The Satyrike is merely free from it, as being wholly occupied in mannerly and covertly reproving of all vices. The Elegy is still mourning: as for the Pastoral with the Sonnet or Epigram, though many times they savour of wantonness and love and toying, and now and then breaking the rules of Poetry, go into plain scurrility, yet even the worst of them may be not ill applied, and are, I must confess, too delightful, in so much as Martial saith, 
Laudant illa, sed ista legunt.   
And in another place, 
Erubuit posuitque, meum Lucrecia librum:  
Sed coram Bruto. Brute recede, leget.   
Lucretia (by which he signifies any chaste matron) will blush and be ashamed to read a lascivious book: but how? not except Brutus be by, that is, if any grave man should see her read it; but if Brutus turn his back, she will to it again and read it all. But to end this part of my Apology, as I count and conclude Heroical Poesy allowable, and to be read and studied without all exception: so may I boldly say, that Tragedies well handled, be a most worthy kind of Poesy; that Comedies may make men see and shame at their own faults, that the rest may be so written and so read, as much pleasure and some profit may be gathered out of them. And for mine own part, as Scaliger writeth of Virgil, so I believe, that the reading of a good Heroical Poem may make a man both wiser and honester: and for Tragedies, to omit other famous Tragedies, that that which was played at Saint john's in Cambridge, of Richard the third, would move (I think) Phalaris the tyrant, and terrify all tyrannous minded men, from following their foolish ambitious humours, seeing how his ambition made him kill his brother, his nephews, his wife, beside infinite others; and last of all after a short and troublesome reign, to end his miserable life, and to have his body harried after his death. Then for Comedies: how full of harmless mirth is our Cambridge Pedantius? and the Oxford Bellum Grammaticale? or to speak of a London Comedy, how much good matter, yea and matter of state, is there in that Comedy called the play of the Cards? in which it is showed how four Parasitical knaves rob the four principal vocations of the Realm, videl, the vocation of Soldiers, Scholars, Merchants and Husbandmen. Of which Comedy I cannot forget the saying of a notable wise counsellor that is now dead, who when some (to sing Placebo) advised that it should be forbidden, because it was somewhat too plain, 
Sir Frances Walsingham.  and indeed as the old saying is, sooth board is no board, yet he would have it allowed, adding it was fit that they which do that they should not, should hear that they would not. Finally, if Comedies may be so made as the beholders may be bettered by them, without all doubt all other sorts of Poetry may bring their profit as they do bring delight; and if all, then much more the chief of all, which by all men's consent is the Heroical. And thus much be said for Poesy.  
Now for this Poem of Orlando Furioso, which as I have heard, hath been disliked by some, though by few of any wit or judgement, it follows that I say somewhat in defence thereof, 
The second part of the Apology.  which I will do the more moderately and coldly, by how much the pains I have taken in it (rising as you may see to a good volume) may make me seem a more partial praiser. Wherefore I will make choice of some other Poem that is allowed and approved by all men, and a little compare them together: and what work can serve this turn so fitly as Virgil's Aeneadoes, whom above all other it seemeth my author doth follow, as appears both by his beginning and ending. The one begins, 
Arma virumque cano.   
The other, 
Le donne I cavallieri l' arm gli amori  
Le cortesie l' audace imprese io canto.   
Virgil ends with the death of Turnus: 
Vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras.   
Ariosto ends with the death of Rodomont, 
Bestemiando fugi l' alma sdegnosa  
Che fu si altero al mondo e si orgogliosa.   
Virgil extolleth Aeneas to please Augustus, of whose race he was thought to come. Ariosto praiseth Rogero to the honour of the house of Este. Aeneas hath his Dido that retaineth him: Rogero hath his Alcina: finally left I should note every part, there is nothing of any special observation in Virgil, but my author hath with great felicity imitated it, so as whosoever will allow Virgil, must ipso facto (as they say) admit Ariosto. Now of what account Virgil is reckoned, and worthily reckoned, for ancient times witnesseth Augustu● Caesar's verse of him: 
Ergone supremis potuit vox improba verbis  
Tam dirum mandare nefas? etc.   
Concluding thus, 
Laudetur, placeat, vigeat, relegatur, ametur.   
This is a great praise, coming from so great a Prince. For later times, to omit Scaliger, whom I recited before, that affirmeth the reading of Virgil may make a man honest and virtuous: that excellent Italian Poet Dant professeth plainly, that when he wandered out of the right way (meaning thereby, when he lived fond and loosely) Virgil was the first that made him look into himself, and reclaim himself from that same dangerous and lewd course. But what need we further witness, do we not make our children read it commonly before they can understand it, as a testimony that we do generally approve it? and yet we see old men study it, as a proof that they do specially admire it: so as one writes very prettily, that children do wade in Virgil, and yet strong men do swim in it.  
Now to apply this to the praise of mine author, as I said before, so I say still, whatsoever is praiseworthy in Virgil, is plentifully to be found in Ariosto, and some things that Virgil could not have for the ignorance of the age he lived in, you find in my author, sprinkled over all his work, as I will very briefly note, and refer you for the rest to the book itself. The devout and Christian demeanour of Charlemagne in the 14. book with his prayer, 
Non vogliatua bonta per mio fallire  
Ch'l tuo popol fidele babbia a patire, etc.   
And in the beginning of the 17. book that would be seem any pulpit: 
Il giusto Dio quando i peccati nostri.   
But above all, that in the 41. book of the conversion of Rogero to the Christian Religion, where the Hermit speaketh to him, containing in effect a full instruction against presumption and despair, which I have set down thus in English, 
Now (as I said) this wise that Hermit spoke,  
And part doth comfort him, and part doth check:  
He blameth him that in that pleasant yoke  
He had so long deferred to put his neck,  
But did to wrath his maker still provoke:  
And did not come at his first call and beck,  
But still did hide himself away from God,  
Until he saw him coming with his rod.  
Then did he comfort him, and make him know,  
That grace is near denied to such as ask,  
As do the workmen in the Gospel show,  
Receiving pay alike for divers task.   
And so after concluding, 
How to Christ he must impute  
The pardon of his sins, yet near the later  
He told him he must be baptised in water.   
These and infinite places full of Christian exhortation, doctrine and example, I could quote out of the book, save that I hasten to an end, and it would be needles to those that will not read them in the book itself, and superfluous to those that will: but most manifest it is and not to be denied, that in this point my author is to be preferred before all the ancient Poets, in which are mentioned so many false Gods, and of them so many fowl deeds, their contentions, their adulteries, their incest, as were both obscenous in recital, and hurtful in example: though indeed those whom they termed Gods, were certain great Princes that committed such enormous faults, as great Princes in late ages (that love still to be called Gods of the earth) do often commit. But now it may be and is by some objected, that although he write Christianly in some places, yet in other some, he is too lascivious, as in that of the bawdy Friar, in Alcina and Rogeros copulation, in Anselmus his Giptian, in Richardetto his metamorphosis, in mine host's tale of Astolfo, and some few places beside; alas if this be a fault, pardon him this one fault; though I doubt to many of you (gentle readers) will be too favourable in this point; yea me thinks I see some of you searching already for these places of the book, and you are half offended that I have not made some directions that you might find out and read them immediately. But I beseech you stay a while, and as the Italian saith Pian piano, fair and softly, and take this caveat with you, to read them as my author meant them to breed detestation and not delectation: remember when you read of the old lecherous Friar, that a fornicator is one of the things that God hateth. When you read of Alcina, think how joseph fled from his enticing mistress; when you light on Anselmus tale, learn to loathe beastly covetousness, when on Richardetto, know that sweet meat will have sour sauce, when on mine host's tale (if you will follow my counsel) turn over the leaf and let it alone, although even that lewd tale may bring some men profit, and I have heard that it is already (and perhaps not unfitly) termed the comfort of cuckolds. But as I say, if this be a fault, than Virgil committed the same fault in Dido and Aeneas entertainment: & if some will say, he tells that mannerly and covertly, how will they excuse that, where Vulcan was inteated by Venus to make an armour for Aeneas? 
Dixerat, & niu●s hinc atque hinc diua lacertis  
Cunctantem ample xu molli fovet, ille repent  
Accepit solitam flammam, notusque per artus  
Intravit calor. And alittle after. Ea verba locutus  
Optatos dedit amplexus placitumque petivit  
Coniug is infusus gremio per membra soporem.   
I hope they that understand Latin will confess this is plain enough, & yet with modest words & no obscenons phrase: and so I dare take upon me that in all Ariosto (and yet I think it is as much as three Aeneads,) there is not a word of ribaldry or obscenousnes: farther there is so meet a decorum in the persons of those that speak lasciviously, as any of judgement must needs allow; and therefore though I rather crave pardon then praise for him in this point; yet me thinks I can smile at the finesse of some, that will condemn him, and yet not only allow, but admire our Chawcer, who both in words and sense, ' incurreth far more the reprehension of flat scurrility, as I could recite many places, not only in his Miller's tale, but in the good wife of Baths tale, & many more, in which only the decorum he keeps, is that that excuseth it, and maketh it more tolerable. But now whereas some will say, A●iosto wanteth art, reducing all heroical Poems unto the method of Homer and certain precepts of Aristotle. For Homer I say, that that which was commendable in him to write in that age, the times being changed, would be thought otherwise now, as we see both in phrase & in fashions the world grows more curious each day than other: Ovid gave precepts of making love, and one was that one should spill wine one the board & write his mistress name therewith, this was a quaint cast in that age; but he that should make love so now, his love would mock him for his labour, and count him but a slovenly suitor: and if it be thus changed since Ovid's time, much more since Homer's time. And yet for Ariostos tales that many think unartificially brought in; Homer himself hath the like: as in the Iliads the conference of Glaucus with Diomedes upon some acts of Bellerophon: & in his Odysseas the discourse of the hog with Ulysses. Further, for the name of the book, which some carp at, because he called it Orlando Furioso rather then Rogero, in that he may also be defended by example of Homer, who professing to write of Achilles, calleth his book Iliad of Troy, and not Achillide. As for Aristotle's rules, I take it, he hath followed them very strictly.  
Briefly, Aristotle and the best censurers of Poesy, would have the Epopeia, that is, the heroical Poem, should ground on some history, and take some short time in the same to beautify with his Poetry: so doth mine Author take the story of K. Charles the great, and doth not exceed a year or thereabout in his whole work. Secondly they hold, that nothing should be feigned utterly incredible. And sure Ariosto neither in his enchantments exceedeth credit (for who knows not how strong the illusions of the devil are?) neither in the miracles that Astolfo by the power of S. john is feigned to do, since the Church holdeth that Prophets both alive and dead, have done mighty great miracles. Thirdly, they would have an heroical Poem (aswell as a Tragedy) to be full of Peripetia, which I interpret an agnition on of some unlooked for fortune either good or bad, and a sudd en change thereof: of this what store there be the reader shall quickly find. ' As for apt similitudes, for passions well expressed, of love, of pity, of hate, of wrath, a blind man may see, if he can but hear, that this work is full of them.  
There follows only two reproofs, which I rather interpret two peculiar praises of this writer above all that wrote before him in this kind: One, that he breaks off narrations very abruptly, so as indeed a loose unattentive reader, will hardly carry away any part of the story: but this doubtless is a point of great art, to draw a man with a continual thirst to read over the whole work, and toward the end of the book, to close up the diverse matters briefly and cleanly. If S. Philip Sidney had counted this a fault, he would not have done so himself in his Arcadia. Another fault is, that he speaketh so much in his own person by digression, which they say also is against the rules of Poetry, because neither Homer nor Virgil did it. Me thinks it is a sufficient defence to say, Ariosto doth it; sure I am, it is both delightful and very profitable, and an excellent breathing place for the reader, and even as if a man walked in a fair long alley, to have a seat or resting place here and there is easy and commodious: but if at the same seat were planted some excellent tree, that not only with the shade should keep us from the heat, but with some pleasant and right wholesome fruit should allay our thirst and comfort our stomach, we would think it for the time a little paradise: so are Ariostos morals and pretty digressions sprinkled through his long work, to the no less pleasure than profit of the reader. And thus much be spoken for defence of mine Author, which was the second part of my Apology.  
Now remains the third part of it, in which I promised to speak somewhat for myself, which part, 
The third part of the Apology.  though it have most need of an Apology both large and substantial; yet I will run it over both shortly and slightly, because indeed the nature of the thing itself is such, that the more one doth say, the less he shall seem to say; and men are willinger to praise that in another man, which himself shall debase, then that which he shall seem to maintain. Certainly if I should confess or rather profess, that my verse is unartificial, the stile rude, the phrase barbarous, the meeter unpleasant, many more would believe it to be so, them would imagine that I thought them so: for this same 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or self pleasing is so common a thing, as the more a man protests himself to be from it, the more we will charge him with it. Wherefore let me take thus much upon me, that admit it have many of the forenamed imperfections, and many not named, yet as writing goes now a days, it may pass among the rest; and as I have heard a friend of mine (one very judicious in the beauty of a woman) say of a Lady whom he meant to praise, that she had a low forehead, a great nose, a wide mouth, a long visage, and yet all these put together, she seemed to him a very well, favoured woman: so I hope, and I find already some of my partial friends, that what several imperfections soever they find in this translation, yet taking all together they allow it, or at least wise they read it, which is a great argument of their liking.  
Sir Thomas Moor a man of great wisdom and learning, but yet a little inclined (as good wits are many times) to scoffing, when one had brought him a book of some shallow discourse, and pressed him very hard to have his opinion of it, advised the party to put it into verse; the plain meaning man in the best manner he could he did so, and a twelvemonth after at the least, came with it to Sir Thomas, who slightly perusing it, gave it this encomium, that now there was rhyme in it, but afore it had neither rhyme nor reason. If any man had meant to serve me so, yet I have prevented him; for sure I am he shall find rhyme in mine, & if he be not void of reason, he shall find reason to. Though for the matter, I can challenge no praise, having but borrowed it, and for the verse I do challenge none, being a thing that every body that never scarce baited their horse at the University take upon them to make. It is possible that if I would have employed that time that I have done upon this, upon some inveption of mine own, I could have by this made it have risen to a just volume, and if I would have done as many spare not to do, flown very high with stolen feathers. But I had rather men should see and know that I borrow all, then that I steal any: and I would wish to be called rather one of the not worst translators, than one of the meaner makers. Specially sith the Earl of Surrey, and Sir Thomas Wyatt, that are yet called the first refiners of the English tongue, were both translators out of Italian. Now for those that count it such a contemptible and trifling matter to translate, I will but say to them as M. Bartholomew Ciarke an excellent learned man, and a right good translator, saith in manner of a pretty challenge, in his Preface (as I remember) upon the Courtier, which book he translated out of Italian into Latin. You (saith he) that think it such a toy, lay aside my book, and take my author in your hand, and try a leaf or such a matter, and compare it with mine. If I should say so, there would be enough that would quickly put me down perhaps; but doubtless he might boldly say it, for I think none could have mended him. But as our English proverb saith, many talk of Robin Hood that never shot in his bow, and some correct Magnificat, that know not quid significat. For my part I will thank them that will amend any thing that I have done amiss, nor I have no such great conceit of that I have done, but that I think much in it is to be mended; and having dealt plainly with some of my plain dealing friends, to tell me frankly what they heard spoken of it (for indeed I suffered some part of the printed copies to go among my friends, and some more perhaps went against my will) I was told that these in effect were the faults were found with it. Some grave men misliked that I should spend so much good time on such a trifling work as they deemed a Poem to be. 
Four faults found in this work.  Some more nicely, found fault with so many two sillabled and three sillabled rhymes. Some (not undeservedly) reproved the fantasticalnes of my notes, in which they say I have strained myself to make mention of some of my kindred and friends, that might very well be left out. And one fault more there is, which I will tell myself, though many would never find it; and that is; I have cut short some of his Cantos, in leaving out many staves of them, and sometimes put the matter of two or three staves into one. To these reproofs I shall pray you gentle and noble Readers with patience hear my defence, 
Answer to the first.  and then I will end. For the first reproof, etiher it is already excused, or it will never be excused; for I have I think sufficiently proved, both the art to be allowable, and this work to be commendable: yet I will tell you an accident that happened unto myself. When I was entered a pretty way into the translation, about the seventh book, coming to write that where Melissa in the person of Rogeros' Tutor, comes and reproves Rogero in the 4. staff: 
Was it for this, that I in youth thee fed  
With marrow? etc. And again:  
Is this a means, or ready way you trow,  
That other worthy men have trod before,  
A Caesar or a Scipio to grow? etc.  Strait I began to think, 
Samuel Fl●mming of king's college in Cambridge.  that my Tutor, a grave and learned man, and one of a very austere life, might say to me in like sort, Was it for this, that I read Aristotle and Plato to you, and instructed you so carefully both in Greek and Latin? to have you now become a translator of Italian toys? But while I thought thus, I was aware, that it was no toy that could put such an honest and serious consideration into my mind. 
The second.  Now for them that find fault with polysyllable meeter, me think they are like those that blame men for putting sugar in their wine, and chide too bad about it, and say they mar all, but yet end with God's blessing on their hearts. For indeed if I had known their diets, I could have saved some of my cost, at least some of my pain; for when a verse ended with civility, I could easier after the ancient manner of rhyme, have made see, or flee, or decree to answer it, leaving the accent upon the last syllable, then hunt after three syllabled words to answer it with facility, gentility, tranquility, hostility, scurrility, debility, agility, fragility, nobility, mobillitie, which who mislike, may taste lamp oil with their ears. And as for two syllabled metres, they be so approved in other languages, that the French call them the feminine rhyme, as the sweeter: and the one syllable the masculine. But in a word to answer this, and to make them for ever hold their pieces of this point; Sir Philip Sidney not only useth them, but affecteth them: signify, dignify: shamed is, named is, blamed is: hide away, bide away. Though if my many blotted papers that I have made in this kind, might afford me authority to give a rule of it, I would say that to part them with a one syllable meeter between them, would give it best grace. For as men use to sow with the hand and not with the whole sack, so I would have the ear fed but not cloyed with these pleasing and sweet falling metres. 
The third.  For the third reproof about the notes, sure they were a work (as I may so call it) of supererogation, and I would wish sometimes they had been left out, and the rather, if I be in such fair possibility to be thought a fool or fantastical for my labour. True it is, I added some notes to the end of every Canto, even as if some of my friends and myself reading it together (and so it fell out indeed many times) had after debated upon them, what had been most worthy consideration in them, and so oftimes immediately i set it down. And whereas I make mention here and there of some of mine own friends and kin, I did it the rather, because Plutarch in one place speaking of Homer, partly lamenteth, and partly blameth him, that writing so much as he did, yet in none of his works there was any mention made, or so much as inkling to be gathered of what stock he was, of what kindred, of what town, nor save for his language, of what country. Excuse me then if I in a work that may perhaps last longer than a better thing, and being not ashamed of my kindred, name them here and there to no man's offence, though I meant not to make every body so far of my counsel why I did it, till I was told that some person of some reckoning noted me of a little vanity for it: and thus much for that point.  
For my omitting and abreviating some things, 
The fourth.  either in matters impertinent to us, or in some too tedious flatteries of persons that we never heard of, if I have done ill, I crave pardon; for sure I did it for the best. But if any being studious of the Italian, would for his better understanding compare them, the first six books save a little of the third, will stand him in steed. But yet I would not have any man except, that I should observe his phrase so strictly as an interpreter, nor the matter so carefully, as if it had been a story, in which to vary were as great a sin, as it were simplicity in this to go word for word. But now to conclude, I shall pray you all that have troubled yourselves to read this my triple Apology, to accept my labours, and to excuse my errors, if with no other thing, at least with the name of youth (which commonly hath need of excuses) and so presuming this pardon to be granted, we shall part good friends. 
〈◊〉 the life of Ariosto.  Only let me entreat you in reading the book ensuing, not to do me that injury, that a Potter did to Artosto.   

AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER BEFORE HE READ THIS POEM, OF SOME THINGS TO BE OBSERVED, as well in the substance of this work●, as also in the setting forth thereof, with the use of the Pictures, Table, and annotations to the same annexed.  
THere are peradventure many men, and some of those both grave and godly men, that in respect they count all Poetry as merely tending to wantonnesle and vanity, will at the very first sight reject this book, and not only not allow, but blame and reprove the travel taken in letting forth the same in our mother tongue. And surely for such censurers as will condemn without hearing the cause pleaded, I can be well content to have them spare the labour in reading, which they think I have lost in writing; and appealing from them, if not to higher at least to more indifferent judges, namely such as will vouchsafe to hear what can be spoken in defence of the matter, and then will yield (as wise men ever should do) to the stronger reason: I do to them direct this my short advertisement, which (because all that may read this book are not of equal capacities) I will endeavour to explain more plainly, then for the learned sort had haply been requisite.  
And first if any have this scruple, that it might be hurtful for his soul or conscience, 
Of the matter of the book tending to virtue.  to read a book of Poetry, as though it might alien his mind from virtue and religion, I refer him (beside many other excellent men's writings, both in defence and praise thereof) to a little brief treatise in the beginning of this book, written by me generally in defence of Poems, and specially of this present work, which I dare affirm to be neither vicious nor profane, but apt to breed the quite contrary effects, if a great fault be not in the readers own bad disposition.  
Secondly I have in the marginal notes quoted the apt similitudes, 
The marginal notes.  and pithy sentences or adages, with the best descriptions, and the excellent imitations, and the places and authors from whence they are taken.  
Further, where divers stories in this work seem in many places abruptly broken off, 
Direction for continuing the divers story's.  I have set directions in the margin, where to find the continuance of every such story, though I would not wish any to read them in that order at the first reading, but if any think them worthy the twice reading, than he may the second time not unconueniently use it, if the mean matter between the so divided stories (upon which commonly they depend) be not quite out of his memory.  
Also (according to the Italian manner) I have in a staff of eight verses comprehended the contents of every Book or Canto, 
The contents of every book.  in the beginning thereof, which hath two good uses, one to understand the picture the perfecter, the other to remember the story the better.  
As for the pictures, they are all cut in brass, 
The pictures.  and most of them by the best workmen in that kind, that have been in this land this many years: yet I will not praise them too much, because I gave direction for their making, and in regard thereof, I may be thought partial; but this I may truly say, that (for mine own part) I have not seen any made in England better, nor (indeed) any of this kind in any book, except it were a treatise set forth by that profound man master Broughton the list year, upon the Revelation, in which there are some three or four pretty pictures (in octavo) cut in brass very workmanly. As for other books that I have seen in this Realm, either in Latin or English with pictures, as Livy, Gesner, Alciats emblems, a book de Spectris in Latin, and in our tongue the Chronicles, the book of Martyrs, the book of hawking and hunting, and M. Whitneys' excellent Emblems, yet all their figures are cut in wood, and none in metal, and in that respect inferior to these, at least (by the old proverb) the more cost, the more worship.  
The use of the picture is evident, 
The use of the picture and the perspective.  which is, that (having read over the book) you may read it (as it were again) in the very picture; and one thing is to be noted, which every one (haply) will not observe, namely the perspective in every figure. For the personages of men, the shapes of horses, and such like, are made large at the bottom, and lesser upward, as if you were to behold all the same in a plain, that which is nearest seems greatest, and the farthest shows smallest, which is the chief art in picture.  
If the name of any man, 
The Table. The Tales.  woman, country, town, horse, or weapon seem strange to any, I have made a table where to find it. And in the same table, a direction for the several tales, where to begin and end, those that may conveniently be read single, of which kind there are many, and those not unpleasant.  
Lastly, at the end of every Book or Canto, because the Reader may take not only delight, but profit in reading, I have noted in all (as occasion is offered) the Moral, the History, the Allegory, and the Allusion.  
The Moral, that we may apply it to our own manners and disposition, to the amendment of the same. 
Moral.   
The History, 
History.  both that the true ground of the poem may appear, (for learned men hold, that a perfect poem must ground of a truth) (as I show more at large in another place) as also to explain some things that are lightly touched by him, as examples of all times, either of old or of late.  
The Allegory, 
Allegory.  of some things that are merely fabulous, yet have an allegorical sense, which every body at the first show cannot perceive.  
The Allusion: 
Allusion.  of fictions, to be applied to some things done, or written of in times past, as also where it may be applied without offence to the time present. But these happen in very few books.  
And this is all that ● have to advertise the Reader, for if any other notes happen to come after, it is but for want of oome in the margin, that they were feign to be put out of their due place. It remains only to wish (because I find it will be delightful to many) that it may be hurtful to none, lest (if it should) both they and I be called to account for it, where not only evil works, but idle words shall be punished.   

  

THE FIRST BOOK OR CANTO OF ORLANDO FURIOSO.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Charles hath the foil, Angelica flies thence:  
Renaldoes horse holp him his Love to find:  
Ferraw with him doth fight in her defence:  
She flies again, they stay not long behind.  
Argalias ghost reproves Ferraws offence,  
The Spaniard to new vow himself doth bind.  
His mistress presence Sacrepant enjoyeth,  
With Bradamant Renaldo him annoyeth.  

1  

a The ●●●inning is 〈◊〉 by imitation ●●●n Virgil, 〈◊〉 1. of his 〈◊〉, Arma 〈◊〉 cano.  OF Dames, of Knights, of arms, of loves delight,  
Of courtesies, of high attempts I speak,  
Then when the moors transported all their might  
On Afrique seas, the force of France to break:  
Incited by the youthful heat and spite  
Of Agramant their king, that vowed to wreak  
The death of King Trayana (lately slain)  
Upon the Roman Emperor Charlemagne.   

2  
I will no less Orlando's acts declare,  
(A tale in prose ne verse yet sung or said)  
Who fell bestraught with love, a hap most rare,  
To one that erst was counted wise and stayed:  

b 〈◊〉 bear 〈…〉 mistress, 〈◊〉 speaks 〈◊〉 on the 〈◊〉 staff.  If my sweet Saint that causeth my like care,  
My slender muse afford some gracious aid,  
I make no doubt but I shall have the skill,  
As much as I have promised to fulfil.   

3  

c 〈◊〉 by the 〈◊〉 intended 〈◊〉 Hippolito 〈◊〉 by the 〈◊〉 to a 〈◊〉 more  Vouchsafe (O Prince of most renowned race,  
The ornament and hope of this our time)  
T'accept this gift presented to your grace,  
By me your servant rudely here in rhyme.  
And though I paper pay and ink, in place  
Of deeper debt, yet take it for no crime:  
It may suffice a poor and humble debtor,  
To lay and if he could it should be better.   

4  
Here shall you find among the worthy peers,  
Whose praises I prepare to tell in verse,  
Rogero; him from whom of ancient years  
Your princely stems derived, I reherses  
Whose noble mind by princely acts appears,  
Whose worthy fame even to the sky doth perse●  
So you vouchsafe my 
d Imitati● of V●gel to Octa●i●s: Atque hau● sin● tempora circum ●nter felaces hedetam ●ib● s●rpere laures.  lowly stile and base,  
Among your high conceits a httle please.   

5  
Orlando who long time had 
e This hath reference to a former treatise called Orlando's loves, written by one Boyardus.  loved dear,  
Angeli●a the fair: and for her sake,  
About the world, in nations far and near,  
Did high attempts perform and undertake,  
Returned with her into the West that year,  
That Charles his power against the Turks did make:  
And with the force of Germany and France,  
Near Pyron 
f The hills that part France and Spa●●e.  Alpes his standard did advance.   

6  
To make the Kings of Africa and of Spain,  
Repent their rash attempts and foolish vaunts,  
One having brought from Asslike in his train,  
All able men to carry sword or lance,  
The other moved the Spaniards now again  
To overthrow the goodly Realm of France.  
And hither (as I said) Orlando went,  
But of his coming strait he did repent.   

7  
For here (behold how human judgements art,  
And how the wiser sort are oft mistaken)  
His Lady whom he guarded had so far,  
Nor had in fights nor dangers great forsaken,  
Without the dint of sword or open war,  
Amid his friends away from him was taken.  
For Charles the great, a valiant Prince and wise,  
Did this to quench a broil that did arise.   

8  
Between Orlando and Renaldo late,  
There fell about Angelica some brawl,  
And each of them began the other hate,  
This Lady's love had made them both so thrall.  
But Charles who much mislikes that such debate  
Between such friends should rise, on cause so small,  

Nam●s D●ke of Ba●er.  To Namus of Bavier in keeping gave her,  
And suffered neither of them both to have her.   

9  
But promised he would presently bestow  
The damsel fair, on him that in that fight,  
The plainest proof should of his prowess show,  
And danger most the Pagans with his might,  
But (ay the while) the Christens take the blow,  
Their soldiers slain, their Captains put to flight,  
The Duke himself a prisoner there was taken,  
His tent was quite abandoned and forsaken.   

10  
Where when the damsel fair a while had stayed,  
That for the victor pointed was a prey,  
She took her horse, ne farther time delayed,  
But secretly conveyed herself away.  
For she foresaw, and was full sore afraid,  
That this to Charles would prove a dismal day.  
And riding through a wood, she happed to meet  
A knight that came against her on his feet.   

11  
His curates on, his helmet not undone,  
His sword and target ready to the same,  
And through the wood so swiftly he did run,  

Sim●le. Imitatió of Virgil 2. Ae●ead. Improussu●● assirus v●luse qua sentibus angue.  As they that go half naked for a game.  
But never did a shepherds daughter shun  
More speedily a snake that on her came,  
Then fair Angelica did take her flight,  
When as she once had knowledge of the knight.   

12  
This valiant knight was Lord of Clarimount,  

Renaldo his horse's name was Lisardo.  Duke Ammon's son, as you shall understand,  
Who having lost his horse of good account,  
That by mishap was slipped out of his hand,  
He followed him, in hope again to mount,  
Until this Lady's sight did make him stand,  
Whose face and shape proportioned were so well,  
They seem the house where love itself did dwell.   

13  
But she that shuns Renaldo all she may,  
Upon her horse's neck doth lay the rain,  
Through thick and thin she gallopeth away,  
Ne makes she choice of beaten way or plain,  
But gives her palfrey leave to choose the way,  
And being moved with fear and with disdain,  
Now up, now down, she never leaves to ride,  
Till she arrived by a river side.   

14  
Fast by the stream Ferraw she sees anon, 
Ferraw●● nisb Knight.   
(Who noyd, in part with dust, and part with sweat)  
Out of the battle hither came alone,  
With drink his thirst, with air to suage his heat;  
And minding back again to have been gone,  
He was detained with an unlooked for let,  
Into the stream by hap his helmet fell,  
And how to get it out he cannot tell.   

15  
And hearing now the noise and mournful cry  
Of one with piteous voice demanding aid,  
Seeing the damsel eke approaching nigh,  
That nought but help against Renaldo prayed,  
What wight it was, he guessed by and by,  
Though looking pale, like one that had been frayed,  
And though she had not late been in his sight,  
He thought it was Angelica the bright.   

16  
And being both a stout and courteous knight,  
And love a little kindling in his breast,  
He promised strait to aid her all he might,  
And to perform what ever she request.  
And though he want a helmet, yet to fight  
With bold Renaldo he will do his best.  
And both the one, the other strait defied,  
Oft having either others value tried.   

17  
Between them two, a combat fierce began,  
With strokes that might have pierced the hardest rocks.  
While they thus fight on foot, and man to man,  
And give and take so hard and heavy knocks,  
Away the damsel posteth all she can,  
Their pain and travel she requites with mocks.  
So hard she road while they were at their fight,  
That she was clean escaped out of sight.   

18  
When they long time contended had in vain,  
Who should remain the master in the field,  
And that with force, with cunning, nor with pain,  
The tone of them could make the other yield,  
Renaldo first did move the Knight of Spain  
(Although he used such courtesy but ceil)  
To make a truce; ne was he to be blamed,  
For love his heart to other fight inflamed.   

19  
You thought (said he) to hinder me alone,  
But you have hurt yourself as much or more.  
You see the fair Angelica is gone,  
So soon we lose that erst we sought so sore.  
Had you me ta'en or slain, your gain were none,  
Sith you were ner the near your love therefore.  
For while we two have made this little stay,  
She lets us both alone and goeth her way.   

20  
But if you love the Lady, as you say,  
Then let us both agree to find her out,  
To have her first will be our wisest way,  
And when of holding her there is no doubt,  
Then by consent let her remain his prey,  
That with his sword can prove himself most stout,  
I see not else after our long debate,  
How either of us can amend his state.   

21  
Ferraw (that felt small pleasure in the sight)  
Agreed a lound and friendly league to make:  
They lay aside all wrath and malice quite,  
And at the parting from the running lake,  
The Pagan would not let the Christian knight  
To follow him on foot for manners sake:  
But prays him mount behind his horses back,  
And so they seek the damsel by the track.   

22  
O ancient knights of true and noble hart,  

rivals are those that be ●●strs to one 〈◊〉, as are competitors to 〈…〉.  They rivals were, one faith they lived not under,  
Beside they felt their bodies shrewdly smart  
Or blows late given, and yet (behold a wonder)  
Through thick and thin, suspicion set apart,  
Like friends they ride, and parted not asunder,  
Until the horse with double spurring drived  
Unto a way parted in two arrived.   

23  
And being neither able to descry  
Which way was gone Angelica the bright,  
Because the track of horses feet, whereby  
They seek her out, appear alike in sight.  
They part, and either will his fortune try,  
The left hand one, the other takes the right.  

Ferra●.  The Spaniard when he wandered had a while,  
Came whence he went, the way did him beguile.   

24  
He was arrived but there, with all his pain,  
Where in the ford he let his helmet fall,  
And of his Lady (whom he loved in vain)  
He now had little hope, or none at all.  
His helmet now he thinks to get again,  
And seeks it out, but seek it while he shall,  
It was so deeply sunken in the sand,  
He cannot get it out at any hand.   

25  

Pepler 〈◊〉 a tree that groweth by the water like a Willow.  Hard by the b●nke a tall young Poplar grew,  
Which he cut down, thereof a pole to make,  
With which each place in feeling and in view,  
To find his skull he up and down doth rake:  
But lo a hap unlooked for doth ensue,  
While he such needless fruitless pain doth take;  
He saw a knight arise out of the brook,  
Breast high, with visage grim, and angry look.   

26  

The ghost of Arga●  The knight was armed at all points save the head,  
And in his hand he held the helmet plain,  
That very helmet that such care had bred  
In him that late had sought it with such pain  
And looking grimly on Ferraro he said,  
Ah faithless wretch, in promise false and vain,  
It grieves thee now this helmet so to miss,  
That should of right be rendered long ere this.   

27  
Remember (cruel Pagan) when you killed  
Me, brother to Angelica the bright:  
You said you would (as I then dying willed)  
Mine armour drown, when finished were the fight,  
Now if that fortune have the thing fulfilled,  
Which thou thyself shouldst have performed in right,  
Grieve not thyself, or if thou wilt be grieved,  
Grieve that thy promise cannot be believed.   

28  
But if to want an helmet thou repine,  
Get one wherewith thine honour thou mayst save,  
Such hath Orlando County Paladine,  
Renaldo such, or one perchance more brave,  
That was from Almont ta'en, this from Manbrine:  
Win one of these, that thou with praise m●st have,  
And a● for this, surcease to seek it more,  
But leave it as thou promised me before.   

29  
Ferra●● was much amazed to see the spirit,  
That made this strange appearance unexpected,  
His voice was gone, his hair did stand upright,  
His senses all were so to fear subjecteth.  
His heart did swell with anger and despite,  
To hear his breach of promise thus objected,  
And that Argalia (lo the knight was named)  
With just reproof could make him thus ashamed.   

30  
And wanting time, the matter to excuse,  
And being guilty of no little blame,  
He rested mute, and in a senseless muse,  
So sore his heart was tainted with the shame.  
And by Linsusas' life he vowed to use  
No helmet, 
This is a fit dee●rum, so to make Ferr●nv to swet● by his mother's life, which is the Spanish manner.  till such time he got the same,  
Which from the stout Almont Orlando wan,  
When as they two encountered man to man.   

31  
But he this vow to keep more firmly meant,  
And kept it better than the first he had,  
Away he parted hence a malcontent,  
And many days ensuing rested sad.  
To seek Orlando out is his intent,  
With whom to fight he would be very glad. 
He finds Orlando, the 12. book in Atlantes enchanted palace, the 28. staff.   
But now what haps unto Renaldo fell,  
That took the other way, 'tis time to tell.   

32  
Not far he walked, but he his horse had spied.  
That praunsing went before him on the way,  
Holla my boy holla (Renaldo crid:)  
The want of thee annoyed me much to day.  
But Bayard will not let his master ride,  
But takes his heels and faster go'th away. 
He finds his horse t●u book 77. staff   
His flight much anger in Renaldo bred:  
But follow we Angelica that fled.   

33  
That fled through woods and deserts all obscure,  
Through places uninhabited and waste,  
Ne could she yet repute herself secure,  
But farther still she gallopeth in haste.  
Each leaf that stirs in her doth fear procure,  
And maketh her affrighted and aghast:  
Each noise she hears, each shadow she doth see,  
She doth mistrust it should Renaldo be.   

34  
Like to a fawn, or kid of bearded goat, 
Eimil●.   
That in the wood a tiger fierce espied,  
To kill her dam, and first to tear the throat,  
And then to feed upon the haneh or side,  
Both fear lest the might light on such a lot,  
And seek itself in thickest bracks to hide,  
And thinks each noise the wind or air doth cause,  
Itself in danger of the tigers claws.   

35  
That day and night she wandered here and there,  
And half the other day that did ensue,  
Until at last she was arrived where,  
A fine young grove with pleasant shadow grew,  
Near to the which two little rivers were,  
Whose moisture did the tender herbs renew,  
And make a sweet and very pleasing sound,  
By running on the sand and stony ground.   

36  
Here she at last herself in safety thought,  
As being from Renaldo many a mile,  
Tired with annoy the heat and travel brought,  
She thinks it best with sleep the time beguile,  
And having first a place convenient sought,  
She lets her horse refresh his limbs the while,  
Who said upon the banks well clothed with grass,  
And drank the river water clear as glass.   

37  
Hard by the brook an arbour she descried,  
Wherein grew fair and very fragrant flowers,  
With roses sweet, and other trees beside,  
Wherewith the place adorns the native bowers,  
So fenced in with shades on either side,  
Safe from the heat of late or early hours:  
The boughs and leaves so cunningly were mixed,  
No sun, no light, could enter them betwixt.   

38  
Within; the tender herbs a bed do make,  
Inviting folk to take their rest and ease:  
Here means this Lady fair a nap to take,  
And falls to sleep, the place so well doth please.  
Not long she lay, but her a noise did wake,  
The trampling of a horse did her disease,  
And looking out as secret as she might,  
To come all armed she saw a comely knight.   

39  
She knows not yet if he be foe or friend,  
Twixt hope and fear she doubtfully doth stand,  
And what he means to do she doth attend,  
And who it was she feign would understand.  
The knight did to the river side descend,  
And resting down his head upon his hand,  
All in a muse he sitteth still alone,  
Like one transformed into a marble stone.   

40  
He tarried in this muse an hour and more,  
With look cast down in sad and heavy guise,  
At last he did lament his hap so sore,  
Yet in so sweet and comely mournful wise,  
So hard a heart no tiger ever bore,  
But would have heard such plaints with waterish eyes.  
His heart did seem a mountain full of flame,  
His cheeks a stream of tears to quench the same.   

41  

The lamentation of Sacrap●●.  Alas (said he) what means this divers passion?  
I burn as fire, and yet as frost I freeze,  
I still lament, and yet I move compassion,  
I come too late, and all my labour lose.  
I had but words and looks for show and fashion,  
Put others get the game, and gainful fees:  
If neither fruit nor flower come to my part,  
Why should her love consume my careful hart?   

42  
Like to the rose I count the virgin pure, 
Simile. This is 〈◊〉 of Catuli● greatly 〈◊〉 V● flos is secretus 〈◊〉 hortis, etc.   
That growth on native stem in garden fair,  
Which while it stands with walls environed sure,  
Where herdmen with their herds cannot repair  
To favour it, it seemeth to allure  
The morning dew, the heat, the earth, the air.  
Young gallant men, and lovely dames delight  
In their sweet scent, and in their pleasing sight.   

43  
But when at once 'tis gathered and gone,  
From proper stalk, where late before it grew,  
The love, the liking little is or none,  
Both favour, grace and beauty all adieu.  
So when a virgin grants to one alone  
The precious flower for which so many sew,  
Well he that getteth it may love her best,  
But she foregoes the love of all the rest.   

44  
She may deserve his love, but others hate,  
To whom of love she showed herself so scant.  
(Oh than my cruel fortune or my fate)  
Others have store, but I am starved with want:  
Then leave to love this lady so ungrate:  
Nay hue to love (behold I soon recant)  
Yea first let life from these my limbs be rend,  
Ere 1 to change my love shall give consent.   

45  
If some perhaps desirous are to know,  
What wight it was with sorrow so oppressed,  
'twas Sacrepant that was afflicted so,  
And love had bred this torment in his breast:  
That trickling wound, that flattering cruel foe,  
Most happy they that know and have it least.  
The love of her I say procured his woe,  
And she had heard and knew it long ago.   

46  
Her love allured him from the Ester land,  
Unto the Western shores, where sets the Sun,  
And here he heard how by Orlando's hand,  
A passage safe from th'Indies she had won.  
Her sequestration he did understand,  
That Charles had made, and how the same was done  
To make the knights more venturous and bold,  
In fight for the Flower de luce of gold. 
The flower de● taken for Fi● itself, be●● arms of Fi●    

47  
And furthermore himself had present been  
When Charles his men were overthrown and slain.  
Since then, he traveled far to find this Queen,  
But hitherto it hath been all in vain.  
Now much despair, and little hope between,  
So ruefully thereof he doth complain,  
And with such wailing words his woes rehearsed,  
As might the hardest stony heart have pierced.   

48  
And while in this most doleful state he bides,  
And sighs full oft, and sheddeth many a tear,  
And speaks these same, and many words besides,  
(Which I to tell for want of time forbear)  
His noble fortune so for him provides,  
That all this came unto his mistress ear,  
And in one moment he prevailed more  
Than he had done in many years before.   

49  
Angelica with great attention hard,  
The m●i●e, and plaint, that him tormented sore,  
Who long had loved her, with great regard,  
As she had trial, many years before,  
Yet as a marble pilla● cold and hard,  
She not incline, to pity him the more.  
Like one that all the world doth much disdain,  
And deemeth none worthy her love again.   

50  
But being now with danger compassed round,  
She thought it best to take him for her guide.  

Simile.  For one that were in water almost drowned,  
Were very stout, if for no help he cried:  
If ●he let pass the fortune now she found,  
She thinks to want the like another tide.  
And furthermore for certain this she knew,  
That Sacrepant had been her lover true.   

51  
Ne meant she tho to quench the raging fires,  
That ay consumed his faithful loving heart,  
Ne yet with that a lover most desires,  
T a●lwage the pain in all, or yet in part:  
She means he first shall pull her from the briars,  
And feed him then with words and women's art,  
To make him first of all to serve her turn,  
That dove, to wont coyness to return.   

52  
Unto the river side she doth descend,  
And toward him most goddess like she came,  

This is the phrase of the cast country people: peace be to you.  And ●●id, all peace to thee my dearest friend,  
With modest look, and called him by his name,  
And further said, the Gods and you defend  
My chastity, mine honour and my fame.  
And never grant by their divine permission,  

* Such; 〈◊〉 respect of his 〈…〉 that he discovered afore. Simile.  That I give cause of any such suspicion.   

53  
With how great joy a mother's mind is filled,  
To see a son, for whom she long had mourned,  
Whom she hard late in battle to be killed,  
And saw the troops without him home returned,  
Such joy had Sacrepant when he behild,  
His Lady dear: his tears to smiles are turned,  
To see her beauty rare, her comely favour,  
Her princely presence, and her stately hanour.   

54  
Like one all ravished with her heavenly face,  
Unto his loved Lady he doth run,  
Who was content in arms him to embrace,  
Which she perhaps at home would not have done,  
But doubting now the dangerous time and place,  
She must go forward as she hath begun,  
In hope by his good service and assistance,  
To make her home return without resistance.   

55  
And in most lou'ly manner she doth tell,  
The strange adventures, and the divers chance,  
That since they two did part to her be●ell.  
Both on the way, and since she came to France:  
And how Orlando used her right well,  
Defending her from danger and mischance,  
And that his noble force and magnammine,  
Had still preserved the flower of her virginity.   

56  
It might be true, but sure it was incredible,  
To tell to one that were discreet and wise,  
But unto Sacrepant it seemed poss●ble,  
Because that love had dazzled to his eyes:  
Love causeth that we see to seem invisible,  
And makes of things not seen, a shape to rise.  
It is a proverb used long ago, 
Sentence.   
We soon believe the thing we would have so.   

57  
But to himself thus Sacrepant doth say,  
Be't that my Lord of An●la●t were so mad, 
Orlando was Lord of Anglant   
To take no pleasure of so fair a prey,  
When he both time and place, and power had,  
Yet am not I obliged any way,  
To incitate a precedent so bad.  
I'll rather take my pleasure while I may,  
Then wail my want of wit another day. 
ovid. vim licet appelles. grata est vis illa puellu, quod twas invita, sape dedisse toiu●. t.    

58  
I'll gather now the fresh and fragrant rose,  
Whole beauty may with standing still be spent,  
One cannot do a thing (as I suppose)  
That better can a woman's mind content:  
Well may they seem much grieved for a gloze,  
And weep and wail, and dolefully lament,  
There shall no foolish plaints, nor feigned ire,  
Hinder me to encarnat my desire.   

59  
This said, forthwith he did himself prepare,  
T'assault the fort that easily would be won,  
But lo a sudden hap that bred new care,  
And made him cease his enterprise begun,  
For of an enemy he was aware,  
He clasped his helmet late before undone,  
And armed all, he mounteth one his best  
And standeth ready with his spear in rest.   

60  
Behold a warrior whom he did not know,  
Came down the wood in semblance like a knight, 
Bradamam.   
The furniture was all as white as snow,  
And in the helm a plume of feathers white.  
King Sacrepant by proof doth plainly show,  
That he doth take the thing in great despite,  
To be disturbed and hindered from that pleasure,  
That he preferred before each other treasure.   

61  
Approaching nigh, the warrior he defied,  
And hopes to set him quite beside the seat:  
The other with such lofty words replied,  
As persons use, in choler and in heat.  
At last when glorious vaunts were laid aside,  
They come to strokes and each to do his feat,  
Doth couch his spear, and running thus they sped,  
Their coursets both encountered head to head.   

62  
As Lions meet, 
Simile.  or Bulls in pastures green,  
With teeth & horns, & stain with blood the field,  
Such eager fight these warriors was between.  
And either's spear had pierced the tother's shield,  
The sound that of these strokes had raised been,  
An echo loud along the vale did yield.  
'Twas happy that their curates were so good,  
The Lances else had pierced to the blood.   

63  
For quite unable now about to wheel,  

Simile 7 ●●ke is in Da 1 of goats.  They butt like rams, the one the others head,  
Whereof the Pagans horse such pain did feel,  
That ere long space had past he fell down dead.  
The tother's horse a little 'gan to reel,  
But being spurred, fall quickly up he sped.  
The Pagans horse thus overthrown and slain,  
F●ll backward greatly to his master's pain,   

64  
That unknown champion seeing tother down,  
His horse upon him lying dead in view,  
Expecting in this fight no more renown,  
Determined not the battle to renew.  
But by the way that leadeth from the town,  
The first appointed journey doth pursue,  
And was now ridden half a mile at least,  
Before the Pagan parted from his beast.   

65  

Simile. The hbe u in O u●d de treats us 3 Fle. H●ud a. ●t●r ●lu●; u● quato qus jow igni●●s actus v●u●t 〈◊〉 est vita ●es●●us ●ps● su●.  Like as the tiler of the fruitful ground,  
With sudden storm and tempest is astonished  
Who sees the flash, & hears the thunder's sound,  
And for their master's sakes, the cattle punished,  
Or when by hap a fair old pine he found,  
By force of raging winds his leaves diminished.  
So stood amazed the Pagan in the place,  
His Lady present at the woeful case.   

66  
He fetched a sigh most deeply from his heart,  
Not that he had put out of joint, or lamed  
His arm, his leg, or any other part,  
But chiefly he, his evil fortune blamed,  
At such a time, to hap lo overthwart,  
Before his love, to make him so ashamed:  
And had not she some cause of speech found out,  
He had remained speechless out of doubt.   

67  
My Lord (said she) what ails you be so sad?  
The want was not in you, but in your steed,  
For whom a stable, or a pasture had  
Been fitter than a course at tilt indeed.  
Nor is that adverse party very glad,  
As well appears, that parted with such speed,  
For in my judgement they be said to yield,  
That first leave off, and do depart the field.   

68  
Thus while she gives him comfort all she may,  
Behold there came a messenger in post,  
Blowing his horn, and riding down the way,  
Where he before his horse, and honour lost.  
And coming nearer he of them doth pray,  
To tell if they had seen pass by that cost,  
A champion armed at all points like a knight,  
The shield, the horse, and armour all of white.   

69  
I have both seen the knight, and felt his force,  
(Said Sacrepant) for here before you came,  
He cast me down and also killed my horse,  
Ne know I (that doth grieve me most) his name.  
Sir (quoth the post) the name I will not force,  
To tell, sith you desire to know the same,  
First, know that you were conquered in this fight,  
By value of a damsel fair and bright.   

70  
Of passing strength, but of more passing hue,  
And Bradamant, this damsel fair is named,  
She was the wight, whose meeting you may rue,  
And all your life hereafter be ashamed. 
This post 〈◊〉 taketh Bi● Bookes●●   
This laid, he turned his horse and bad adieu.  
But Sacrepant with high disdain inflamed,  
Was first lo wroth, and then so shamed thereto,  
He knew not what to say, not what to do.   

71  
And after he had stayed a while and musd,  
That at a woman's hands he had received,  
Such a disgrace as could not be excused,  
Nor how he might revenge it he perceived,  
With thought hereof his mind was so confused,  
He stood like one of wit and sense bereaved.  
At last he goeth, a better place to find,  
He takes her horse and makes her mount behind.   

72  
Now having rode a mile, or there about,  
They heard a noise a trampling on the ground,  
They thought it was some company or rout,  
That caused in the woods so great a sound: 
Bayardo● to Bucep●● that he in suffer no● quietly 〈◊〉 master.   
At last they see a warlike horse, and stout,  
With guilded barb, that cost full many a pound,  
No hedge, no ditch, no wood no water was,  
That stopped him where he was bend to pass.   

73  
Angelica casting her eye aside:  
Except (said she) mine eyes all dazzled be,  
I have that famous horse Bayardo spied,  
Come trotting down the wood, as seems to me:  
(How well for us our fortune doth provide)  
It is the very same, I know 'tis he:  
On one poor nag to ride we two were loath,  
And here he cometh fit to serve us both.   

74  
King Sacrepant alighteth by and by,  
And thinks to take him gently by the rain,  
But with his heels the horse doth straight reply,  
As who should say, his rule he did disdain.  
It happy was he stood the beast not nigh,  
For if he had, it had been to his pain,  
For why, such force the horse had in his heel,  
He would have burst a mountain all of steel.   

75  
But to the damsel gently he doth go,  
In humble manner, and in lowly sort.  
A spantell after absence fawneth so, 
Simile.   
And seeks to make his master play, and sport,  
For Bayard called to mind the damsel tho, 
Albracca● in the 〈◊〉 table.   
When she unto Albracco did resort,  
And used to feed him for his master's sake,  
Whom she then loved, and he did her forsake.   

76  
She takes the bridle boldly in her hand,  
And stroked his breast, and neck, with art and skill:  
The horse that had great wit to understand,  
Like to a lamb, by her he standeth still,  
And while Bayardo gently there did stand,  
The Pagan got him up, and had his will.  
And she that erst to ride behind was feign,  
Into her saddle mounted now again.   

77  
And being newly settled in her seat,  
She saw a man on foot all armed run,  
Strait in her mind she ga● to chase and fret,  
Because she knew it was Duke Ammon's son,  
Most earnestly he sued her love to get,  
More earnestly she seeks his love to shun.  
Once she loved him, he hated her as much,  
And now he loves, she hates, his hap was such.   

78  

●●id 1. 〈…〉 to be true 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 ●●ope. 〈…〉.  The cause of this first from two fountains grew,  
Like in the taste, but in effects unlike,  
Placed in Ardenna, each in others view,  
Who tastes the one, loves dart his heart doth strike,  
Contrary of the other doth ensue,  
Who drink thereof, their lovers shall mislike.  
Renaldo drank of one, and love much pained him,  
The other drank this damsel that disdained him.   

79  
This liquor thus with secret venom mingled,  
Makes her to stand so stiffly in the nay,  
On whom Renaldoes heart was wholly kindled,  
Though scarce to look on him she can away,  
But from his sight desiring to be singled,  
With soft low voice the Pagan she doth pray,  
That he approach no nearer to this knight,  
But fly away with all the speed he might.   

80  
Why then (quoth he) make you so small esteem  
Of me, as though that I to him should yield?  
So weak and faint my forces do you deem,  
That safe from him yourself I cannot shield  
Then you forget Albracca it should seem,  
And that same night, when I amid the field,  
Alone unarmed did defend you then,  
Against king Agrican and all his men.   

81  
No sir, said she, (ne knows she what to say)  
Because Renaldo now approached so nigh,  
And threatened so the Pagan in the way,  
When under him his horse he did espy,  
And saw the damsel taken as a pray,  
In whose defence he means to live and die.  
But what fell out between these warriors fierce,  
Within the second book I do rehearse.   
In this first book may be noted in Angelica the ungratefulness of women to their worthiest suitors. 
The Moral.  In the four knights, the passionate affections of love and fancy. And whereas first Bradamant, and after Renaldo interrupt Sacrepant of his lascivious purpose, may be noted, both the weak holdfast that men have of worldly pleasures, as also how the heavens do ever favour chaste desires. Lastly, in the two fountains may be noted the two notable contrarieties of the two affections, of love and disdain, that infinite sorts of people daily taste of, while they run wandering in that inextricable labyrinth of love.  
Concerning the history, 
The History.  we find that in the time of Charles the great (called Charlemagne) son of Pepin king of France, the Turks with a great power invaded Christendom, Spain being then out of the faith, (as some part thereof was even within these four score years, namely Granada, which was held by the moors.) And one Marcus Antonius Sabellicus writeth, that for certainty there lived in that time of Charlemagne, many of those famous Palladines, that are in this work so often named, and especially he maketh mention of Renaldo and Orlando, affirming that they were indeed very martial men, and how Charles obtained great victories by their service; and namely he talleth of one Ferraw a Spaniard of great stature and strength, who took certain Frenchmen prisoners, afterward rescued by Orlando, which Orlando fought with him hand to hand two whole days, and the second vanquished him. Further, the same author affirmeth, that the same Charlemagne, for his great favour showed to the Church of Rome, was by Leo the third named Emperor of Rome: and that he was a just, a fortunate, and a merciful Prince, and one that within Europe as well as without did attain great conquests, suppressing the violent government of the Lombard's, and taming the rebellious Saxons, Huns and Baudrians, and conquering a great part of Spain: all which testimonies show, that the ground of this Poem is true, as I shall have particular occasion in sundry of the books ensuing to note: and thus much for the story.  
For the allegory, 
Allegory.  in this Canto I find not much to be said, except one should be so curious to search for an allegory where none is intended by the author himself: yet an allegory may not unfitly be gathered of the description of Bayardos' following Angelica, which may thus be taken. Bayardo a strong horse, without rider or governor, is likened to the desire of man, that runs furiously after Angelica, as it were after pleasure or honour, or whatsoever man doth most inordinately affect.  
Likewise in that Angelica flieth from Renaldo, we may take an allegorical instruction, that the temptations of the flesh are overcome, chiefly by flying from them, as the Scripture itself teacheth, saying, Resist the devil, but fly fornication.  
Further, in that Bayardo striketh at Sacrepant, but yieldeth to Angelica, it may be noted how the courage of our minds that cannot be abated with any force, are often subdued by flattery and gentle usage, till they be in the end even ridden as it were with slavery.  
And whereas Renaldo follows Angelica on foot, some have noted thereby to be meant sensuality, that is ever in base and earthly, or rather beastly affections, never looking upward.  
For Allusions, 
Allusion.  there are not any worth the noting in this Canto, save that it seems in Renaldoes horse Bayardo, he seems to allude to Buccphalus Alexander's horse.   

  

THE SECOND BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
A Frire between two rivals parts the fray,  
By magic art: Renaldo hasteth home,  
But in embassage he is sent away,  
When tempest makes the sea to rage and foam.  
Bradamant seeks her spouse, but by the way,  
While she about the country wild did room,  
Met Pinnabel, who by a crafty train;  
Both sought, and thought the Lady to have slain.  

1  
O Blind god Love, why tak'st thou such delight,  

〈…〉 first 〈…〉 sometime 〈◊〉 have some 〈◊〉 moral or 〈…〉 to the imper●●ens to the 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉.  With darts of divers force our hearts to wound?  
By thy too much abusing of thy might,  
This discord great in human hearts is found.  
When I would wade the shallow ford aright.  
Thou drawest me to the deep to have me drowned,  
From those love me, my love thou dost recall,  
And place it where I find no love at all.   

2  
Thou mak'st most fair unto Renaldo seem  
Angelica, that takes him for a foe,  
And when that she of him did well esteem,  
Then he disliked, and did refuse her thee.  
Which makes her now of him the less to deem,  
Thus (as they say) the renders quit pro quo.  
She hateth him, and doth detest him so,  
She first will die, ere she will with him go.   

3  
Renaldo (full of stately courage) cried,  
Down these from of my horse, down by and by,  
So robbed to be I never can abide,  
But they that do it dearly shall abye,  

The 〈◊〉 on 〈…〉 to 〈…〉  Also this Lady you must leave beside,  
Else one of us in her defence will die.  
A horse so good, and such a goodly dame,  
To leave unto a thief it were a shame.   

4  
What ' me a thief? thou in thy throat dost lie  
(Quoth Sacrepant, that was as hot as he)  
Thief to thyself, thy malice I defy,  
For as I hear, the name is due to thee:  
But if thou dare thy might and manhood try,  
Come take this Lady, or this hoist from me.  
Though I allow in this of thine opinion,  
That of the world she is the matchless minion.   

5  
Like as two mastiff dogs with hungry maws,  
Moved first to hate, 
Sti●●●●  from hate to raging ire,  
Approach with grinning teeth, and griefly jaws,  
With staring eyes, as red as flaming fire,  
At last they bite, and scratch with teeth and claws,  
And tear themselves, and tumble in the mire.  
So after biting and reproachful words,  
Did these two worthy warriets draw their swords.   

6  
One was on foot, the tother was one horse,  
You think perhaps, the horseman vantage had,  
No sure no whit; he would have wished to sconce;  
For why at last to light he must be glad,  
The beast did know thus much by nature's force,  
To hurt his master were a service bad.  
The pagan could not nor with spur nor hand,  
Make him unto his mind to go or stand,   

7  
He stops, when he should make a full carite,  
He runs or trots, when he would have him rest,  
At last to throw his rider in the n●ite,  
He plungeth with his head beneath his breast.  
But Sacrepant that now had small desire,  
At such a time, to tame so proud a beast,  
Did work so well at last by sleight and force,  
On his left side, he lighted from his horse.   

8  
When from Bayardos' over furious might,  
The Pagan had himself discharged so,  
With naked swords there was a noble fight,  
Sometimes they lie aloft, sometimes aloe,  
And from their blows the fire flies out in sight:  
I think that Vulcan's hammers beat more slow,  
Where he within the mountain Aetna's chaps,  
Doth forge for love, the fearful thunderclaps.   

9  

A description of a cobat between two ●●rghes skilful other weapon.  Sometimes they proffer, than they pause a while,  
Sometime strike out, like masters of the play,  
Now stand upright, now stoop another while,  
Now open lie, then cover all they may.  
Now ward, then with a slip the blow beguile:  
Now forward step, now back a little way:  
Now round about, and where the tone gives place,  
There still the other presleth in his place.   

10  
Renaldo did the Pagan Prince invade,  
And strike at once with all the might he cowd,  
The other doth oppose against the blade,  
A shield of bone and steel of temper good.  
But through the same a way Fusberta made,  

●oberta was Renaldoes sword.  And of the blow re●ounded all the wood:  
The steel, the bone like ice in pieces broke,  
And left his arm benumbed with the stroke.   

11  
Which when the fair and fearful damsel saw,  
And how great damage did ensue thereby,  
She looked pale, for anguish and for awe,  
Like those by doom that are condemned to die:  
She thinks it best herself from hence withdraw,  
Else will Renaldo take her by and by,  
The same Renaldo whom she hateth so,  
Though love of her procured all his wo.   

12  
Unto the wood she turns her horse in haste,  
And takes a little narrow path and blind;  
Her fearful looks ofttimes she back doth cast,  
Still doubting lest Renaldo came behind:  
And when that she a little way had past,  
Allow the vale a Hermit she did find:  
A weak old man, with beard along his breast,  
In show devout, and holier than the rest.   

13  

An ●●●ha● 〈◊〉, or rather 〈◊〉 who●● person he 〈…〉.  He seemed like one with fasts and age consumed,  
He road upon a slothful going asle.  
And by his look, a man would have presumed,  
That of his conscience scrupulous he was.  
Yet her young face, his old sight so illumed,  
When as he saw the damsel by to paste:  
(Though weak and faint, as such an age behoved?)  
That charity his courage somewhat moved.   

14  
The damsel of the Hermit asked the way,  
That might unto some haven town lead most near,  
That she might part from France with out delay,  
Where once Renaldoes name she might not hear.  
The friar that could enchant, doth all he may,  
To comfort her, and make her of good cheer,  
And to her safety promising to look;  
Out of his bag forthwith he drew a book.   

15  
A book of skill and learning so profound, ●  
That of a leaf he had not made an end,  
But that there rose a spirit from under ground,  
Whom like a page he doth of errands send.  
This spirit by words of secret virtue bound,  
Goes where these knights their combat did intend:  
And while they two were fight very hard,  
He enters them between without regard.   

16  
Good sirs (quoth he) for curtsy sake me show,  
When one of you the tother shall have slain,  
And after all the travel you bestow,  
What guerdon you expect for all your pain,  
Behold, Orlando striking near a blow, 
This 〈…〉 away.   
Not breaking staff, while you strive here in vain,  
To Paris ward the Lady fair doth carry,  
While you on fight undiscreetly tarry.   

17  
I saw from hence a mile, or thereabout,  
Orlando with Angelica alone,  
And as for you, they jest and make a flout,  
That fight where praise and profit can be none.  
'twere best you quickly went to seek them out,  
Before that any farther they be gone;  
Within the walls of Paris if they get,  
Your eye on her again you shall not set.   

18  
When as the knights this message had received,  
They both remained amazed, dumb and sad,  
To ●eare Orlando had them so deceived,  
Of whom before great jealousy they had;  
But good Renaldo so great grief conceived,  
That for the time, like one all raging mad,  
He swore without regard of God or man,  
That he will kill Orlando if he can.   

19  
And seeing where his horse stood still untied,  
He thither goes: such haste he make● away,  
He offers not the Pagan leave to ride,  
Nor at the paring once adieu doth say.  
Now Bayard felt his masters spurs in side,  
And gallops main, ne maketh any stay  
No rivers, rocks, no h●dge, nor ditches wide,  
Could stay his course, or make him step aside.   

20  
Nor marvel if Renaldo made some haste,  
To mount again upon his horses back.  
You heard before how many days had passed,  
That by his absence he had felt great lack. 
Bayard●i 〈…〉   
The horse (that had of human wit some taste,)  
Ran not away for any jadish knack,  
His going only was to this intent,  
To guide his master where the Lady went.   

21  
The horse had spied her when she took her flight,  
First from the tent, as he thereby did stand,  
And followed her, and kept her long in fight, 
The B●● 〈…〉 on a 〈◊〉 who●● 〈◊〉 depe●●   
As then by hap out of his master hand.  
(His master did not long before alight,  
To combat with a * Baron hand to hand).  
The horse pursued the damsel all about,  
And holp his master still to find her out.   

22  
He followed her through valley, hill and plain,  
Through woods and thickets for his master's sake,  
Whom he permitted not to touch the rain,  
For fear lest he some other way should take,  
By which Renaldo though with much pain  

〈…〉 in 〈…〉 book●.  Twice found her out, twice she did him forsake:  
For first Ferraw, than Sacrepant withstood,  
That by twice finding her he did no good.   

23  
Bayardo trusting to the lying spirit,  
Whose false (but likely) tale so late he hard,  
And doubting not it was both true and right,  
He doth his duty now with due regard.  
Renaldo pricked with love and raging spite,  
Doth prick apace, and all to Paris ward,  
To Paris ward he maketh so great shift,  
The wind itself seems not to go to swift.   

24  
Such haste he made Orlando out to find,  
That scant he ceased to travel all the night,  
So deeply stack the story in his mind,  
That was of late devised by the spirit:  
Betimes and late as first he had assigned, 
〈…〉   
He road until he saw the town insight:  
Where Charles whose chance all christened hearts did rue,  
With the small relics of his power withdrew.   

25  
And for he looks to be assaulted then,  
Or else besieged, he useth all his care,  
To store himself with victual and with men.  
The walls eke of the town he doth repair,  
And take advice, both how, and where, and when,  
For his defence each thing he may prepare,  
An army new to make he doth intend,  
And for new soldiers into England send.   

26  
He minds to take the field again ere long,  
And try the hap of war another day,  
And all in haste to make himself more strong,  
He sends Renaldo England's aid to pray.  
Renaldo thought the Emperor did him wrong,  
To send him in such haste, and grant no stay.  
Not that ill will to th'island he did carry,  
But for another cause he feign would tarry.   

27  
Yet now although full sore against his mind,  
As loath to leave the Lady he so loved,  
Whom he in Paris hoped had to find,  
Because t'obey his Prince it him behoved,  
He taketh this embassage thus assigned,  
And having strait all other lets removed,  
He posted first to Calais with great haste,  
And there embarked ere half next day was passed.   

28  
Against the mariners and masters minds,  
(Such hast he made to have returned back)  
He takes the sea though swelling with great winds,  
And threatening ruin manifest and wrack.  
Fierce Boreas that himself despised finds,  
Doth beat on seas with tempest foul and black,  
By force whereof the waves were raised so high,  
The very tops were sprinkled all thereby.   

29  
The mariners take in their greater sail,  
And by the wind they lie, but all in vain,  
Then back again they bend without avail,  
Now they are out, they cannot in again.  
No (said the wind) my force shall so prevail, 
He makes the wind to speake● by a figure called prosopop/ia.   
Your bold attempts shall put you to some pain.  
It was a folly any more to strive,  
Needs must they follow as the wind did drive.   

30  
In the foreship sometimes the blast doth blow,  
Strait in the poop, the seas break to the skies.  
Needs must they bear a sail, though very low,  
To void the waves that higher still did ri●e:  
But sith my web so diverse now doth grow,  
To weave with many threads I must devise,  
I leave Renaldo in this dangerous place, 
He comes to hi● again. 4. book● staff 21.   
And of his sister speak a little space.   

31  
I mean the noble damsel Bradamant, 
Bradamant 〈◊〉 he left in the first book, staff 〈◊〉.   
Of Ammon daughter, and dame Beatrice,  
In whose rare mind no noble part did want,  
So full of value, and so void of vice,  
King Charles and France of her might rightly vaunt●punc;  
So chaste, so fair, so faithful and so wise,  
And in the feats of arms of so great fame,  
A man might guess by that of whence she came.   

32  
There was a Knight enamoured on this dame,  
That out of Africa came with Agramant,  
Rogero height, so was his father's name,  
(His mother was the child of Agolant) 
Look in the Index of names of the story of Agolant and Rogeros mother named Ga●i●c●lla.   
The damsel that of worthy lineage came,  
And had a heart not made of adamant,  
Disdained not the love of such a knight,  
Although he had but ceil been in her sight.   

33  
Long travel and great pain she had endured,  
And rid alone her lover to have found,  
Ne would she think her safety more assured,  
If with an army she were guarded round.  
You heard before how she by force procured  
King Sacrepant to fall and kiss the ground,  
The wood she passed, and after that the mountain,  
Until at last she saw a goodly fountain.   

34  
A goodly fountain running in a field,  
All full of trees, whose leaves do never fade, 
The la●rell, the yeugh and the holily be ever green●.   
Which did to passengers great pleasure yield,  
The running stream so sweet a murmur made,  
Upon the South, a hill the Sun did shield,  
The ground gave flowers, the groves a grateful shade:  
Now here the dame casting her eye aside,  
A man at arms fast by the brook descried.   

35  
A man at arms she spied by the brook,  
Whose banks with flowers of divers hue were clad, 
Pinnabel son of Anselmus Earl● of Maganza.   
Of which sweet place he so small pleasure took,  
His face did show his heart was nothing glad,  
His targe and helmet were not far to look,  
Upon a tree where tide his horse he had:  
His eyes were swollen with tears, his mind oppressed,  
With bitter thoughts that had his heart distresled.   

36  
The damsel fair enticed by deep desire,  
That all (but chiefly women) have to know,  

Atlanta un le to Rogero a great Necromancer, who did work this by enchancement.  All stranger's states, doth earnestly require  
The doleful knight his inward grief to show.  
Who marking well her manner and attire,  
Her courteous speech with him prevailed so,  
He te's his state, esteeming by the sight,  
That needs she must have been some noble knight.   

37  
Good sir (said he) you first must understand,  
I served Charles against the king of Spain,  
I horsemen had and footmen in my band,  
In ambush placed the Spanish king t'have slain:  
I brought the fairest Lady in this land,  
And my best loved with me in my train,  
When suddenly ere I thereof was ware,  
There came a horseman that procured my care.   

38  
Perhaps a man, of some infernal spirit,  
In human shape, I cannot certain say,  
But this I say, he took the damsels bright,  
Even as a falcon seizeth on his prey,  
So he my loving Lady did affright,  
And so affrighted bore her quite away.  
And when I thought to rescue her by force,  
Aloft in air he mounted with his horse.   

39  
Even as a ravenous kite that doth espy  

Simile.  A little chicken wandering from the other,  
Doth catch him strait, and carries him on high,  
That now reputes he was not with his mother.  
What could I do? my horse wants wings to fly,  
Scant could he set one leg before the tother,  
He traveled had before so many days,  
Among the painful hills and stony ways.   

40  
But like to one that were his wit beside,  
I leave my men to do my first intent,  
Not caring of myself what should betide,  
(So strongly to my fancy was I bend)  
And took the blind god Cupid for my guide,  
By way●s as blind to seek my love I went.  
And though my sense, my guide, my way were blind,  
Yet on I go in hope my love to find.   

41  
A seven-night space abating but a day,  
About the woods and mountains I did range,  
In savage deserts wild and void of way,  
Where human steps were rare and very strange.  
Fast by the desert place a plain there lay,  
That showed from the rest but little change,  
Save only that a castle full of wonder  

A●lantes castle made by enchantment.  Did stand in rocks that had been clou'n asunder.   

42  
This castle shines like flaming fire a far,  
Not made of lime and stone as ours are here:  
And still as I approached a little narre,  

So they write that 〈◊〉 armour was tempered to make it unpenetrable.  More wonderful the building doth appear.  
It is a fort impregnable by war.  
Compacted all of metal shining clear.  
The fiends of hell this fort of steel did make,  
And metal tempered in the * Stygian lake.   

43  
The towers are all of steel, and polished bright,  
There is on them no spot or any rust,  
It shines by day, by dark it giveth light,  
Here dwells this robber wicked and unjust, 
Simile.   
And what he gets against all laws and right,  
The lawless wretch abuseth here by lust,  
And here he keeps my fair and faithful lover,  
Without all hope that I may her recover.   

44  
Ah woe was me, in vain I sought to help,  
I see the place that keeps that I love best,  
Even as a fox that crying hears her whelp, 
Simile.   
Now borne aloft into the Eagles nest,  
About the tree she goes, and feign would help,  
But is constrained for want of wings to rest.  
The rock so steep, the castle is so high,  
None can get in except they learn to fly.   

45  
And as I tarried in the plain, behold  
I saw two knights come riding down the plain,  
Led by desire and hope to win this hold,  
But their desire and hope was all in vain.  
Gradasso was the first of courage bold, 
Grad●   
A king of Serican that held the rain.  
Rogero next, 
Roger●  a man of noble nation,  
Of years but young, but of great estimation.   

46  
A little dwarf they had to be their guide,  
Who told me that they came to try their force  
Against the champion that doth use to ride  
Out of this castle on the winged horse.  
Which when I heard, to them for help I cried,  
And prayed them of my case to take remorse,  
And that they would, if 'twere their chance to win,  
Set free my love that there was locked in.   

47  
And all my grief to them I did unfold,  
Affirming with my tears my tale too true:  
No sooner I my heavy hap had told,  
But they were come within the castles view,  
I stood aloof the battle to behold,  
And prayed to God good fortune might ensue.  
Beneath the castle lies a little plain,  
Exceeding not an arrow shoot or twain.   

48  
And as they talked who first should fight or last,  
They were arrived to the castle hill,  
At length Gradasso (whether lots were cast,  
Or that Rogero yielded to his will)  
Doth take his horn, and blew therewith a blast,  
The noise whereof the castle walls did fill.  
And strait with greater speed than can be guest,  
Came out the rider of the flying beast. 
Simile.    

49  
And as we see strange crane's are wont to do, 
Strange because of ● is a ● that g● sea. They 〈◊〉 triangle, ●nie wr●● Mag●●●gician.   
First stalk a while, ere they their wings can find,  
Then soar from ground not past a yard or two,  
Till in their wings they gathered have the wind,  
At last they mount the very clouds unto,  
Triangle wise, according to their kind:  
So by degrees this Mage begins to fly,  
The bird of jove can hardly mount so high.   

50  
And when he sees his time, and thinks it best,  
He talleth down like lead in fearful guise,  
Even as the falcon doth the fowl arrest,  
The dick and mallard from the brook that rise,  
So he descending with his spear in rest,  
Doth pierce the a●re in strange and monstrous wise,  
And ere Gradasso were thereof admonished,  
He felt a stripe that made him half astonished.   

51  
The Mage upon Gradasso broke his spear,  
Who strikes in vain upon the air and wind,  
Away he slew without or hurt or fear,  
And leave Gradasso many a pace behind.  
This fierce encounter was so hard to bear,  

Alfana the ●are Gradasso road ●, having vowed never to rule ●orse till ●e could ●et Bayard Re●alados horse.  That good Alfana to the ground inclined,  
This same Alfana was Gradassos' mare,  
The fairest and best that ever saddle bare.   

52  
Aloft the stars the sorc'rer doth ascend,  
And wheels about, and down he comes again,  
And on Rogero he his force doth bend,  
That had compassion on Gradassos' pain:  
So sore th'assault Rogero did offend,  
His horse the force thereof could not sustain,  
And when to strike again he made account,  
He saw his foe up to the clouds to mount.   

53  
Sometimes the Mage Rogero doth assail,  
Straightway Gradasso he doth set upon,  
And oft they strike again without avail,  
So quickly he at whom they strike is gone,  
He winds about as ships do under sail,  
His sails are wings, and rest he gives them none,  
But sets upon them in so sudden wise,  
That he amazed and dazzled both their eyes.   

54  
Between this one aloft, and two allow,  
This conflict did no little space endure,  
Until at last the night began to grow,  
With misty clouds making the world obscure:  
I saw this fight, 
Many 〈◊〉 wise sword are readier ●o believe strange reports of credible ●ersons then the ●olish.  the truth thereof I know,  
I present was there at, yet am I sure,  
That very few (except the wiser sort)  
Will credence give to such a strange report.   

55  
This heavenly hellish warrior bore a shield  
On his left arm that had a silken case,  
I cannot any cause or reason yield,  
Why he would keep it covered so long space:  
It had such force, that who so it beheld.  
Such shining light it striketh in their face,  
That down they fall with eyes and senses closed,  
And leave their corpse of him to be disposed.   

56  
The target like the carbuncle doth shine,  

Of this 〈…〉 The 〈…〉 head  Such light was never seen with mortal eye,  
It makes to ground the lookers on decline,  
Be they far off, or be they standing nigh:  
And as it closed their sight it closed mine,  
That 〈◊〉 a trance no little space was I.  
At last when I awaked and rose again,  
The air was dark, and voided was the plain.   

57  
The sorcerer hath ta'en them (I surmise)  
Into his castle, as is likely most,  
And by this light that dazzled all our eie●,  
My hope is gone, their liberty is lost:  
This is the truth, n● do I ought devise,  
You hear the same, I felt it to my cost,  
Now judge if I have reason to complain,  
That have and do endure such endless pain.   

58  
When as this Knight his doleful tale had done,  
He sat him down all chearlesse in the place,  
This was the Earl Pinnabel Anselmus son,  
Borne in Maganza of that wicked race,  
Who like the rest so lewd a course did run,  
He holp the more his lineage to deface:  
For only virtue nobleness doth dignify, 
V●rt●s vera nobi●.   
And vicious life a lineage base doth signify.   

59  
The Lady fair attentive all this while,  
Doth hearken unto this Maganz●ses tale,  
Rogeros' name sometime doth make her smile,  
Sometime again for fear she looketh pale:  
But hearing how a sorcerer base and vile,  
Should in a castle so detain him thrall,  
She pitied him, and in her mind she treated,  
And oft desired to hear the tale repeated.   

60  
When at the last the whole she understood,  
She said, sir Knight mourn not, but take some pleasure,  
Perhaps our meeting may be to your good,  
And turn your enemy unto displeasure:  
Show me this fort, for why it frets my blood,  
So foul a prison holds so fair a treasure.  
And if good fortune favour mine intent,  
You will right well suppose your travel spent.   

61  
Ah (said the Knight) should I return again,  
To pass these mountains hard and ouertwha●t?  
Though for myself it is but little pain,  
To toil my body having lost my hart:  
For you to go where as you may be slain,  
Or taken prisoner were a foolish pa●t:  
Which if it hap, yet me you cannot blame,  
Because I give you warning of the same.   

62  
This said he riseth up his horse to take,  
The noble Lady on the way to guide,  
Who means to venture for Rogeros' sake.  
Or death or thraldom, or what ere betide.  
But lo a messenger great haste doth make,  
That comes behind, and (tarry ho) he cried,  
This was the post that told to Sacra●ant,  
How she that foiled him was Dame Bradamant. 
1. Book. staff. 70.    

63  
This messenger brought tidings in great post,  
Both from Narbona and from Mompeleere,  
How they were up in arms along the cost  
Of Aquamort, and all that dwelled near,  
And how Marsilias' men their hearts had lost,  
Because of her no tidings they could bear:  
And (for her absence made them ill apaid)  
They sent to have her presence and her aid.   

64  

The 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  These towns and others many to the same,  
Between the streams of Rodon and of Vare,  
The Emperor had assigned this worthy dame,  
Committing them unto her trust and care.  
Her noble value got her all this fame,  
Because in arms herself she bravely bare,  
And so the cities under her subjection,  
This message sent, requiring her direction.   

65  
Which when she heard, it made her somewhat pause,  
Twixt yea and no she stood a pretty space,  
Of one side honour and her office draws,  
On th'other side love helps to plead the case,  
At last she means t'ensue the present cause,  
And fetch Rogero from th'enchanted place:  
And if her force cannot to this attain,  
At least with him a prisoner to remain.   

66  
In courteous sort her answer she contrived,  
With gracious words, and sent away the post,  
She longs with her new guide to have arrived,  
To that same place where both their loves were lost.  
But he perceiving now she was derived,  
From Clarimont that he detested most,  
Doth hate her sore, and feareth to the same,  
Lest she should know he of Maganza came.   

67  
There was between these houses ancient hate,  
This of Maganza, that of Clarimount,  
And each of them had weakened others state,  
By kill men in both of great account.  
This P●n●ab● (a vile and wicked mate,  
That all his kin in vices did surmount)  
Means with himself this damsel to betray,  
Or else to slip aside and go his way.   

68  
And this same fancy so his head did fill,  
With hate, with fear, with anger and with doubt,  
That he mistook the way against his will,  
And knew not how again to find it out,  
Till in the wood he saw a little hill,  
Bare on the top, where men might look about,  
But Bradamant such amorous passions feels,  
She followeth like a spaniel at his heels.   

69  
The crafty guide thus wandering in the wood,  
Intending now the Lady to beguile,  
Said unto her forsooth he thought it good,  
Sith night grew on● themselves to rest a while:  
Here is, quoth he (and showed which way it stood)  
A castle fair, and hence not many a mile:  
But tarry you a little here until  
I may descry the country from the hill.   

70  
This said, he mounted to the higher ground,  
And standing now the highest part upon,  
He cast about his eyes and looked round,  
To find some path whereby he might be gone.  
When unawares a monstrous cave he found,  
And strange cut out and ed in the stone,  
Deep thirty cubits down it doth descend,  
Having a fair large gate at lower end.   

71  
Such as great stately houses wont to have,  
Out of which gate proceeds a shining light,  
That all within most lightsome makes the cave,  
And all this while on this felonious knight  
This noble Lady due attendance gave,  
And never suffered him go out of sight.  
She followed Pinnabel hard at his back,  
Because she was afeard to lose the track.   

72  
When as this villain traitor did espy,  
That his designments foolish were and vain,  
Either to leave her, or to make her die,  
He thought it best to try a further train,  
Persuading her for to descend and try,  
What Ladies fair within the cave remain;  
For why (said he) within this little space  
I saw a goodly damsel in the place.   

73  
Both rich arrayed and very fair of hue,  
Like one of noble lineage and degree,  
And this her fortune made me more to rue,  
That here against her will she seemed to be.  
And when I thought for to descend and view,  
The cause of this her grief to know and see,  
I was no sooner from my horse alighted,  
But with infernal hags I was affrighted.   

74  
The noble Bradamant that was more stout,  
Then wary who it was did her persuade,  
Hath such desire to help a damsel out,  
That strait the cave she meaneth to invade,  
She finds by hap a long bough thereabout,  
Thereof a pole of mighty length she made,  
First with her sword she hews and pares it fit,  
That done she lets it down into the pit.   

75  
She giveth Pinnabel the bigger end,  
And prays him stand above and hold it fast,  
And by the same intending to descend,  
Upon her arms her whole weight she doth cast.  
But he that to destroy her did ●ntend,  
Doth ask if she would learn to leap a cast,  
And laughing, loosed his hands that were together,  
And wished that all the race of them were with her.   

76  
Yet great good hap the gentle damsel found,  
As well deserved a mi●d so innocent:  
For why the pol● strake first upon the ground,  
And though by force it shiverd all and rent,  
Yet were her limbs and life kept safe and sound,  
For all his vile and traitorous intent,  
Sore was the damsel mazed with the fall,  
As in another book declare I shall.   
In thi● second book in the combat between Renaldo and Sacrepant, 
The Moral.  we may observe how the passion of love, together with the terms that men stand upon for their reputation & credit, are oftentimes occasions of bitter quarrels: and in their sudden parting and great perplexity, that both of them were stricken into by the false tale that the spirit told them of Orlando, we may gather how very apt jealousy is to conceive and believe every false report. By Renaldoes obedience to Charles in going on embassage notwithstanding all his private affairs and affections, we may take example of dutiful obedience to our lawful Prince. And in that Pinnabel seeks to betray Bradamant, and to kill her by letting her fall into the cave, into the which she trusted he would have let her down safely and friendly, we may note two special things, one, that it is good to be wary into whose hands we commit the safeguard of our lives and state: the other, that base minded men being wickedly set on revenge, care not by what treason or villainy they work the overthrow of their enemies.  
For the History of this Canto, 
Story.  I will not affirm too precisely, for I find not in any credible author of Renaldoes embassage into England, neither is it very likely, if the King of England were then in Paris, (as in another place of this work is affirmed) that a Peer of France should be sent hither, and not rather some English noble man sent from the King to his other subjects in England, with directions and instructions from him.  
That Paris and Charles himself were in some distress about that time, is not unprobable, and that the Turks at their first arrival prevailed very far against the Christians, though it lasted but a while.  
As for Rogero, whom he toucheth in this book, and that is so much spoken of in this w●●le work, as Aeneas is in Virgil, though in both rather in fabulous and in Allegorical sense, then plainly and historicaly: yet I find it in very good Authors, that a man of that name was indeed the chief raiser of the house of Este the now Dukes of Perrara.  
For the Allegory, 
Allegory.  as I noted in the first book of Bayardo, so the same is still continued or rather repeated, namely, that the horse, by which is meant man's fervent and furious appetite, which is more plainly signified where it is said of the horse: 
His going only was to this intent,  
To show his master where the damsel went.  So that still this unbridled desire figured by Bayardo, leads Renaldo on foot, whereby is understood sensuality to pursue Angelica, with a base desire of the most base pleasure.  
In the shield, whose light amazed the lookers on, and made them fall down astonished, may be Allegorically meant the great pomps of the world, that make shining shows in the bleared eyes of vain people, and blind them, and make them to admire and fall down before them, having indeed nothing but shining titles without virtue, like painted sheaths with leaden weapons, or like straw without the grain: either else may be meant the flaring beauties of some gorgeous women, that astonish the eyes of weak minded men, apt to receive such loving impressions, as Atlanta's shield did amaze their senses that beheld it.  
For the Allegory of the horse, what is meant thereby, I reserve to another place, where I will follow it more at large then this little space will give me leave, and in that book where he is more treated of.  
The Allusion, 
Allusion.  to which this flying horse is referred, and from whence it is taken, is from Pegasus, the flying horse that Pindar writes of, bred of the blood of Medusa, on which beast Bellerophon was wont to ride, flying the false accusation of Pretus wife.  
Also the shield itself seems to allude to the fable of Medusa's head, that turned men into stones.   

  

THE THIRD BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fair Bradamant was fallen in Marlins' cave,  
Melissa meets her there her ancient friend,  
And there to her she perfit notice gave,  
Of such brave men as should from her descend.  
She told her where she should Rogero have,  
Whom old Atlanta had in prison penned,  
And from Brunello how to take the ring,  
That unto liberty her dear might bring.  

1  
OH that my head were so well stored with skill,  
Of such a noble subject fit to treat,  
Oh that my wits were equal to my will,  
To frame a phrase fit for so high conceit:  
Ye muses that do hold the sacred hill,  
Inspire my heart with flame of learned heat,  
While I presume in base and lowly verse,  
The names of glorious Princes to rehearse.   

2  
Such Princes as excel all Princes far,  
In all the gifts of body and of mind,  
Temprat in peace, victorious eke in war,  
Themselves most noble, come of noble kind.  
And such (except my guess do greatly are)  
As are by heavens eternal doom assigned,  
In wealth, in fame, in rule and in prosperity,  
To live themselves, their children and posterity.   

3  
Nor can I now their several acts most rare,  
Atcheeud by every one of them recite,  
No though my verse with Virgil's might compare,  
Or I as well as Homer could indite:  
With their great praise, great volumes filled are,  
With large discourse, by them that stories write.  
I only mean to show what was foreshown,  
Long ere their persons or their deeds were known.   

4  
But first of Pinnabel a word to speak,  
Who as you heard with traitorous intent,  
The bonds of all humanity did break,  
For which ere long himself was after shent,  
Thus while base minds their wrongs do basely wreak  
They do that once that often they repent,  
And curse that time, 
Horace dum penas odio per vi● festinas inulto.  a thousand times, too late  
When they pursued their unrevenged hate.   

5  
With fainting heart, (for sin is full of fear,)  
By stealing steps from hence he doth depart, 
Sentence.   
And as he goes he prieth here and there,  
His fearful look bewrays his guilty hart, 
Sentence: Ovid: beu quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu?   
Not yet his dread doth move him to forbear,  
To heap more sin upon this ill desert.  
Paid with fear, but touched with no remorse,  
Supposing she was slain, he takes her horse.   

6  
But let him go until another time,  
For I do mean hereafter you shall hear, 
Book 22. sta. 7●.   
How he was dealt with, when his double crime,  
In secret wrought, most open did appear,  
Now unto Bradamant I bend my time,  
Who with her fall, was yet of heavy cheer:  
And had been taught a gamball for the nonce,  
To give her death and burial at once.   

7  
Now when she came unto herself again,  
And had recovered memory and sense,  
She gets her on her feet, although with pain,  
In mind to seek some way to get fro thence,  
When lo, before her face she seeth plain,  
A stately portal built with great expense,  
And next behind the same she might descry,  
A larger room and fairer to the eye.   

8  

Merlin's tomb.  This was a church most solemn and devout,  
That stands on marble pillars small and round,  
And raised by art on arches all about,  
That made each voice to yield a double sound.  
A lightsome lamp that never goeth out,  
Did burn on altar standing in the ground:  
That though the rooms were large & wide in space,  
The lamp did serve to lighten all the place.   

9  
The noble damsel full of reverent fear,  
When as herself in sacred place she sees,  
(As one that still a godly mind did bear,)  

Christ our saviour.  Begins to pray to him upon her knees,  
Whose holy side was pierced with cruel spear,  
And who to save our lives his own did lose:  
And while she stays devoutly at her prayer,  
The sage Melissa doth to her repair.   

10  
Her gown ungyrt, her hair about her head,  
Much like a priest or prophetess arrayed,  
And in her book a little while she red,  
And after thus unto the damsel said:  
O thou by God's appointment hither led,  
O Bradamant, most wise and worthy maid,  
I long have looked here for this thy coming,  
Foretold thereof by prophet Merlin's cunning.   

11  

The description of Merlin's tomb, out of the book of king Arthur, but this is poetic all licence to feign is to be in France, for it is in Wales.  Here is the tomb that Merline erst did make,  
By force of secret skill and hidden art,  
In which sometimes the Lady of the lake,  
That with her beauty had bewitched his hart,  
Did make him enter fond for her sake,  
From whence he never after could depart,  
And he was by a woman over reached,  
That unto others prophesied and preached.   

12  
His carcase dead within this stone is bound,  
But with dead corpse the living soul doth dwell:  

Till dooms day.  And shall until it here the trumpet sound,  
That brings reward of doing ill or well.  
His voice doth live, and answer and expound,  
And things both present past and future tell,  
Resolving men of every doubtful case,  
That for his counsel come unto this place.   

13  
About a month or little more or less,  
It is since I repaired to Merlin's grave,  
Of him about the study I profess,  
Some precepts and instructions to have.  
And (for I willing was I must confess)  
To meet you at your coming to this caue●  
For which he did prefix this certain day,  
This moved me of purpose here to stay.   

14  
Duke Ammon's daughter silent stands and still,  
The while the wise Melyssa to her spoke,  
Astonished at this unusual skill,  
And doubting if she were a sleep or wake,  
A modest shame with grace her eyes doth fill,  
With which down cast, this answer she doth make:  
Alas what good or merit is in me  
That prophets should my coming so foresee?   

15  
And glad of this adventure unexpected,  
She followeth her guide with great delight,  
And strait she saw the stately tomb erected,  
Of marble pure that held his bones and spirit,  
And (that which one would little have suspected)  
The very marble was so clear and bright,  
That though the sun no light unto it gave,  
The tomb itself did lighten all the cave.   

16  
For whether be the nature of some stone,  
A dark some place with lightsomeness to fill,  
Or were it done by magic art alone,  
Or else by help of Mathematic skill,  
To make transparencies to meet in one,  
And so convey the sun beams where you will:  
But sure it was most curious to behold,  
Set forth with carved works and guilt with gold.   

17  
Now when the damsel was approached nyre,  
To this strange tomb where Merlin's bones were placed,  
Forth of the stones that shine like flaming fire,  
His lively voice such speeches out doth cast:  
Let fortune ever favour thy desire,  
O Bradamant thou noble maid and chaste,  
From out whose womb an issue shall proceed,  
That all the world in glory shall exceed.   

18  
The noble blood that came of ancient Troy, 
In the 〈◊〉 ●ucles of 〈◊〉 they 〈◊〉 gain gr●● from the 〈◊〉 Pri● By the 〈◊〉 these f●● 〈◊〉 us vnder● East, W● North 〈◊〉 South.   
By two clear springs in thee together mixed,  
Shall breed the flower, the jewel and the joy,  
Of all on whom the sun his beams hath fixed,  
Twixt those that heat, and those that cold annoy,  
From Tage to Ind, Danub and Nile betwixt,  
Emp'rors and kings, and dukes and lords for ay,  
Of this thy lineage carry shall the sway.   

19  
And many a Captain brave and worthy Knight,  
Shall issue from this stock, that shall restore  
By warlike feats the glory shining bright,  
That Italy possessed heretofore.  
And magistrates to maintain peace and right,  
As Numa and Augustus did before,  
To cherish virtue, vice so to assuage,  
As shall to us bring back the golden age.   

20  
Wherefore sigh God hath by predestination,  
Appointed thee to be Rogeros' wife,  
And means to bless thine heirs and generation,  
With all the graces granted in this life,  
Persist thou firm in thy determination,  
And stoutly overcome each storm of strife,  
And work his worthy punishment and pain,  
That doth thy lives delight from thee detain.   

21  
This said: the prophet Merline holds his peace,  
And gives Melissa time to work her will,  
Who when she did perceive the voice to cease,  
She purposeth by practice of her skill,  
To show the damsel part of that increase,  
That should with fame the world hereafter fill.  
And for this end she calls a great assemble,  
Ofsprights that might their persons all resemble.   

22  
Who strait by words of secret virtue bound,  

〈…〉  In numbers great unto the cave repair,  
Of whence I know not, whether under ground,  
Or else of those that wander in the air:  
Then thrice she draws about a circle round,  
And thrice she hallows it with secret praire.  
Then opens she a triple clasped book,  
And softly whispering in it she doth look.   

23  
This done she takes the damsel by the hand  
Exhorting her she should not be afraid,  
And in a circle causeth her to stand,  
And for her more security and aid,  
And as it were for more assured band,  
Upon her head some characters she laid.  
Then having done her due and solemn rites,  
She doth begin to call upon the spirits.   

24  
Behold a crew of them come rushing in,  
In sundry shapes with persons great and tall,  
And now they filled all the room within,  
So readily they came unto her call,  
When Bradamant to fear did strait begin,  
Her heart was cold, her colour waxed palls.  
But yet the circle kept her like a wall,  
So that she needed not to fear at all.   

25  
Howbeit Melyssa caused them be gone,  
From thence unto the next adjoining cave,  
And thence to come before them one by one,  
The better notice of their names to have,  
That at more leisure they may talk thereon,  
When as occasion so may seem to crave.  
Although (quoth she) this short time cannot serve  
To speak of every one as they deserve.   

26  

〈…〉  Lo here the first thy first begotten son,  
That bears thy favour and his father's name,  
By whom the Lombard's shall in fight be won,  
To Desiderius their king's great shame,  
Who shall at Pontyr make the streams to run,  
With blood in fields adjoining to the same,  
And shall revenge the deeds and minds unpure,  
Of such as did his father's fall procure.   

27  
And for this noble act among the rest,  
The Emperor shall give him in reward,  
The honours great of Calaon and Est,  

〈…〉  By which his family shallbe preferred.  
The next Vberto is whose valiant breast,  
shallbe unto the holy church a guard.  
Defending it with valiant heart and hand,  
To th'honour of 
* 〈…〉  Helperyan arms and land.   

28  

〈…〉  Alberto he is named that third comes in,  
Whose triumphs are most famous every where,  
Then his son Hugo that did Milan win,  
And for his crest two vipers used to bear,  
Next Atso is and next to him of kin,  
That erst of Lombardie the crown shall wear,  
Then Albertasso by whose means are won,  
The 
* 〈…〉  Beringers both father and the son.   

29  
To him shall Othons' favour so incline,  
He shall in marridge give to him his daughter,  
Now Hugo comes again, o happy line, 
Hugo, ij.   
And happy man that saved so great a slaughter,  
When at Christ vicar's rule Rome did repine,  
He daunteth them and so restored them after:  
The which by wit without the dint of sword,  
He shall effect in Othons' time the thurd,   

30  
Now Fulko comes that to his brother gave, 
Folco.   
His land in Italy which was not small,  
And dwelled in Almany his land to save  
Of Samsony, that unto him did fall  
A duke doom great that did with Castles brave,  
Accrue to him for want of issue male.  
By him that noble house is held and cherished,  
That but for him would be extinct and perished.   

31  
Then cometh Atso that misliketh war,  
But yet his sons Bertold and Albertasse, 
Atso Bertaldo Albertasso of Renaldo.   
With second H●nrie shallbe still at jar,  
And bring the Dutchmen to a woeful pass.  
Next young Renaldo shining like a star,  
shallbe unto the church a wall of brass,  
And work the utter overthrow and loss,  
Of wicked Fredrike named Barbarosse,   

32  
Behold another Atso shall possess, 
Atso.   
Verona with a stately territory,  
Of Oton and Honorius no less,  
shallbe a marquess made to his great glory,  
It would be long their names all to express,  
That shall protect the sacred consistory,  
And in most valorous and marshal manner,  
Display and eke defend the Church's banner.   

33  
Obyso next and Folko you may view, 
Obyso, Folco.   
With Henry's two, the father and the son,  
Both Guelphs that fruitful Humbrya shall subdue,  
And keep the dukedom there by conquest won.  
Behold him that the good state doth renew,  
Of Italy that late was quite undone.  
Called Atso sift that bravely overthrew,  
The cruel Esselino and him slew.   

34  
That cruel Esselyno that was thought, 
Atso.   
To have been gotten by some wicked devil,  
That never any goodness had been taught,  
But sold his soul to sin and doing evil,  
Comparing with the cruel acts he wrought,  
Fierce Nero were but mild and Sylla civil.  
Beside this Atso shall in time to come  
The power of second Fredrike overcome.   

35  
And then he shall his brother Albandrine,  
Unto the Florentines for money gage,  
And Othon with the faction Gebellyn,  
He shall suppress amid the furious rage,  
And raise the church, nor letting it decline,  
But spending to defend it all his age.  
For which good service he shall justly merit;  
The dukedom of Ferara to inherited   

36  

〈…〉  Next him Renaldo now ensu'th, whose lot  
shallbe at Naples to be made away,  
A death his verrtuous deeds deserved not,  
But woe to them that guiltless blood betray.  
Now followeth a'worthy crew and knot,  
Whose acts alone to tell would spend a day:  

〈…〉.  O●so, Nicolas and Alabrandme,  
Whose noble deeds shall honour much their line.   

37  

〈◊〉 2.  Then Nicolas is he that next ensueth,  
That ruled in tender years both near and far,  
That finds and eke revengeth their untruth,  
That sought his state by civil strife to mar.  
The sports and exercises of his youth,  
Are blows and fights, and dangers great & war,  
Which makes that ere to manly state he came,  
For martial deeds he gets the only name.   

38  

Lionel.  Lo Lionel the glory of his age,  
Maintaining peace and quiet all his time,  
And keeping that with ease by wisdom sage,  
To which some others by much pain do climb.  
That fettered fury and rebuked rage,  
That locks up Mars in walls of stone and lime:  
That all his wit, his care and travel bend,  
To make his subjects live in state content.   

39  

Hercules.  Now Hercles' comes, an Hercules indeed,  
Whose deeds shall merit ever during fame:  
That by his pains his country's ease shall breed,  
And put his enemies to flight and shame.  
Sharp to devise, to execute with speed,  
Both stout t'attempt, and patient to the same,  
No prince shall ever rule his country better,  
No prince had ever country more his debtor.   

40  
Not only that he shall their moorish grounds,  
By great expense to pasture sirme reduce,  
Not that the town with wall environ round,  
And store with things behoostull to their use,  
Not that when war in each place shall abound,  
He shall maintain them peaceably in truce,  
Not that he shall according to their ask  
Disburden them of payments and of tasking.   

41  
But that he shall more and above all these,  
Leave them behind him such a worthy race,  
As search within the circuit of the seas,  
You shall not find two to supply their place.  
So shall the one the other strive to please,  
So shall the one the others love embrace,  
As may for loving brotherly regard,  
With Castor and with Pollux be compared.   

42  
The elder of these two Alfonso height,  

Alfonso. Hyppolito.  The next of them Hyppolito we call,  
Both passing stout and valiant in fight,  
Both passing wise and provident withal:  
And both in due defence of country's right,  
Shall seem a bulwark and a brazen wall:  
They both shall have of enemies good store,  
They both shall still subdue them evermore.   

43  
Their mother (if I may a mother name,) 
〈…〉   
One more like Progne and Medea fell,  
Unto her endless infamy and shame,  
Against her son Alfonso shall rebel,  
And join with Venice force (for this to blame)  
Though for the same ere long they paid full well,  
For those they thought to hurt, they did this good,  
To make the ground more fruitful with their blood.   

44  
Nor far fro thence the Spanish soldier hired,  
By pastors purse and in that pastors pay,  
That with a forcible assault aspired,  
To take a sort, and eke the captain slay.  
But lo he comes and they perforce retired,  
And have so short a pleasure of this pray,  
Scarce one of them in life is left abiding,  
To carry notice of so heavy tiding.   

45  
His wit and valour shall him so advance,  
To have the honour of Romama field,  
Where by his means unto the force of France,  
The Pope and Spaniards, forced are to yield:  
And there in Christian blood, ò fatal chance,  
Shall horses swim, such number shall be keeld,  
Nor shall not men enough alive remain,  
To bury those shall be in battle slain.   

46  
The while his brother under Cardinals cap,  
Shall cover, nay shall thew a prudent head, 
〈…〉   
Hyppolito (I mean) who shall have hap,  
With band of men but small (yet wisely led)  
To give to the Venetians such a clap,  
As few the like in stories have been read.  
To take three times five Galleys at one ride,  
And barks and boats a thousand more beside.   

47  
Behold two Sygismonds' both wise and grave, 
〈…〉   
Alfonso next, whose fame is talked of rife,  
With his five sons, than Hercles' that shall have  
The king of France his daughter to his wife,  
That towards him, herself shall to behave, 
Hy●●●●   
Shall make him live most happy all his life.  
Hyppolito it is that now comes in,  
Not least for praise and glory of his kin.   

48  
Next Francis named third, Alfonso's two, 
Fran●● Alf●●   
With many others worthy of renown,  
The which to name might find one work to do,  
From Phoebus' rising to his going down.  
Now therefore if you will consent thereto,  
I here will end and send the spirits down:  
To this the worthy damsel said not nay,  
And strait the spirits vanished all away.   

49  
Then Bradamant, that all well marked had,  
Of whom herself should be the ancient mother,  
Did say, to learn she would be very glad,  
What two those were that differed from the other,  
That came with backward steps and looked so sad,  
Upon the good Alfonso and his brother.  
Melyssa sight, misliking that suggestion,  
That moved her to ask so grievous question.   

50  
And then as in a trance these words she spoke,  
O thou more worthy son of worthy sire,  
They are thy blood, on them compassion take,  
Let grace allwage, though justice kindle ire:  

〈…〉  Then unto Bradamant as new awake,  
I must (said she) deny you this desire,  
I say no more, content you with the sweet,  
For you this sour morsel is not meet.   

51  
Tomorrow when the Sun at break of day,  
With light shall dim the light of every star:  
I mean myself to guide you on your way,  
So as I will be sure you shall not are.  
The place whereas your love is forced to stay,  
Is from the salt sea shore not very far:  
That were you past a mile beyond this wood,  
The other way would easy be and good.   

52  
Of this nights stay the damsel was content,  
And in the cave with her she doth remain,  
And most thereof in Merlin's tomb she spent,  
Whose voice with talk did her still entertain:  
Emboldening her to give her free consent,  
To love where she should sure be loved again.  

〈…〉  Now 'gan the messenger of day to cro,  
When as her guide and she away did go.   

53  
The way they went was dark and unaccessible,  
By secret vaults and hollows of the hill,  
To find it out had been a thing impossible,  
But with a guide of knowledge great and skill:  
At last they came unto a path more passable,  
By which they cease not to ascend, untiil  
They quite had left the dark and loathsome place,  
And saw the beams of Phoebus' cheerful face.   

54  
And while that up this hill they slowly stalk,  
With pausing panting oft, and taking wind,  
To make less weary seem their wean walk,  
Melyssa still doth store of matter find,  
And now of this, and then of that doth talk,  
But chiefly she the damsel puts in mind,  
Of her Rogero, how he had been trained  
Into the prison where he now remained.   

55  
Atlanta that Magician strange is he  
That holdeth him (I trust) unto his cost,  
But had you Pallas strength or Mars (quoth she)  
And eke of armed men a mighty host,  
Yet to attempt by force to set him free,  
Your travel and your labour all were lost.  
Art must be won by art, and not by might,  
Force cannot free your well-beloved knight.   

56  
For first the castle mounted is on high,  
Impregnable with walls all over steeled,  
And next, the horse he rides hath wings to fly,  
And gallops in the air as in the field●  
And last he dazzleth every mortalleie,  
By hidden force of his enchanted shield,  
With light whereof men's senses are so dazed,  
With sight thereof they fall down all amazed.   

57  
In all the world one only mean hath been,  
And is yet still to work so rare a feat,  
A ring there is which from an Indian Queen,  
Was stoine sometime, of price and virtue great:  
This ring can make a man to go unseen, 
The ring was stolen from Angelica.   
This ring can all enchantments quite defeat:  
King Agramant hath sent his secretary,  
Unto Rogero this same ring to carry.   

58  
Brunello is his name that hath the ring,  
Most lewd and false, but politic and his wise, 
A machiavell secretary.   
And put in trust especial by his king,  
With it Rogeros' safety to devise:  
Which sith I wish not he, but you should bring,  
To bind him to you by this enterprise,  
And for I would not have the Turk protect him,  
Because I know he greatly doth affect him.   

59  
Do therefore this, when you do meet this man,  
Whose marks I wish in memory you bear.  
His statute is two cubits and a span,  
His head is long and grey, and thin of hair,  
His nose is short and flat, his colour wan,  
With beetle brow, eyes watery not with tear,  
His beard grows on his face without all stint,  
And to conclude, his look is all a squint.   

60  
Now when as you this comely man shall meet,  
As sure you shall within a day or two,  
You may with courteous words him seem to greet,  
And tell him partly what you mean to do:  
But speak not of the ring although you see't,  
For so you may the matter all undo,  
Then he great courtesy to you will offer,  
And strait his company to you will proffer.   

61  
But when unto the castle you come nigh,  
Then see you set upon him on the way,  
And take away the ring and make him die,  
Nor give him any time, lest he convey  
The ring into his mouth, and so thereby  
Out of your sight he vanish quite away.  
The worthy damsel makes her speeches well,  
And so the one the other bids farewell.   

62  
Next day she happed Brunello to espy,  
She knew him strait, she found him at her Inn,  
She grows to question with him by and by,  
And he to lie doth by and by begin,  
And she dissembles too, and doth d. nigh  
Her country, stock and name, and sex and kin.  
Brunello pleasantly doth talk and tipple,  
Not knowing he did halt before a cripple.   

63  
Now when they almost broken had their fast,  
She marking more his fingers then his eyes,  
When much good talk between them two had passed,  
The most whereof were false and forged hes,  
Behold mine host came unto them in haste,  
And told them news that made them sooner rise:  
But here I mean to make a little pause,  
Before I tell what was thereof the cause.   
〈…〉 may note in Bradamant a worthy example of devotion, that in her sudden mishap, had recourse 〈…〉. In the great praise of Rogero and Bradamant his posterittie, noblemen and gentlemen of good houses may take 〈…〉 father vertu us ancestors, and think themselves beloved of God, and blessed with great temporal blessings, 〈…〉 not from their worthy sure fathers. Also we may note, that commonly good parents bring good children.  
〈…〉 Melyssa brings Bradamant by intricate ways from the cave, and instructs her how to confound Atlantes 〈…〉 good and godly counsel makes men overcome all troubles, and enables them to withstand all wic●● 〈…〉 that Bradamant dissembles with Brunello, we may gather a lesson, which in this age we be too apt 〈…〉, name●, to dissemble with dissemblers.  
〈…〉 is diverse, 
Story.  it divers, and therefore I mean to note the principallest of them, as far as my little reading 〈…〉: and first for Merlin (called the English Prophet) I know many are hard of belief, and think it a meeresable that is written both of his birth, of his life, and chiefly of his death: for his birth, indeed I believe not that he 〈…〉 by an Incubus, yet the possibility thereof might be proved by this place: 
Bellarminde  ●rather held with the great clerk Bellarmine, that such birth is either impossible, or teacher to the great Antichrist when he shall come. But concerning his life, that there was such a man, a great 〈…〉 to King Arthur, I hold it certain: that he had a castle in ●shire called after him Merlinsburie, (now Marl●, 〈…〉 likely, the old ruins whereof are yet seen in our highway from Bath to London. Also the great stones of 〈…〉 and number, that he scattered about the place, have given occasion to some to report, and others 〈…〉 wrought by his great spill in Magic, as likewise the great stones at Stonage on Salis●●, 〈…〉, which the ignorant people believe be brought out of Ireland: and indeed the wiser sort can rather marvel at, 〈…〉 they were set there. But for the manner of his death, and place of his burial, it is so diversly written 〈…〉 countries chalienged, as a man may be bolder to say that all of them are saise, then that any of them 〈…〉 will have him buried in Cornwall, some in Wales (where they say he was borne,) Ariosto by Poetical licence, 〈…〉 or him in France, and the fiction of the tomb is taken of a former fiction in King Arthur's book, 〈…〉, that Merlin being exceedingly in love with the Lady of the Lake (to brag of his cunning) showed her one day 〈…〉 devices of his, a 〈◊〉 that he had made of sufficient capacity to hold him and his wife, and withal 〈…〉 a charm, which being pronounced in an order that he showed her, the tomb would close, and never again be opened. She having no mind to him, or rather indeed flatly hating him, grew on the sudden very gamesome with him, 〈…〉 him some extraordinary kindness, and in the end for want of better pastime would needs persuade him to 〈…〉 would hold them both, and so offered herself to go in with him: he suspecting nothing less than her malicious purpose, went imply in, and strait she shut him in with the cover, and bound it so fast with the charm, as it will never 〈…〉. This I thought good to set done for expounding the II. Staff of this book the plainer, not that any matter here 〈◊〉 worth the noting, without it be to warn men not to tell such dangerous secrets to women, except they 〈…〉 to imitate the wisdom of Cato in repenting it after. And thus much for Merlin. The rest of the book 〈…〉 a true history, and is a repetition of the pedegrue of Alfonso Duke of Ferrara, with some brief touches 〈…〉 of their great exploits in Italy: the exposition of all which, I will not pursue at length, as being 〈…〉 the learned this have read those stories, and not very pleasant to the ignorant, nor familiar to our nation. 〈…〉 some very few of them, such as I think most necessary, and omit the rest, or refer those 〈…〉 to inform themselves to some authors where they may read it more at large.  
Rogero 〈…〉 Bradamant, and this Rogero so much spoken of in this whole book, came with Charles the great into 〈…〉, where among other Venetian captains that holp to suppress Desiderius king of Lombardie: this Rogero 〈…〉 so good service, that the Emperor in reward gave him and his heirs the honours of Calaon and Este, near 〈…〉.  
The ●r●me came to be the crest of the viscounts of Milan by this occasion: Otho a valiant man of that family, in the 〈…〉 that Gedfrey of Bullen made to jerusalem, called the holy wars, did fight at the siege of jerusalem hand to hand with Voluce, 〈…〉 of the 〈…〉, and sue him, whose to make himself more terrible, did carry on his crest a huge viper deucuring of a 〈…〉. Ever since in memory hereof that house carries the viper.  
Betingats 〈◊〉 name there were three, but the chief man (meant here) was nephew to the first, and came after the death of 〈…〉 grandfather into Italy, and prevailed so far that he was proclaimed Augustus, and made his son King of ay 〈…〉 with title King of Romans: but Agapitus then Bishop of Rome, called in Otho King of the Almains I deliver Italy from the ●●ranny of the Beringars, who overcame them, and used them after with great clemency, till afterward the feeling bohenie fan usurping Pope t●t●rannize as before, the same Otho came again, and in fine desir 〈…〉, in which it seems Albertazzo did some great service.  
Of Fruderike Barbarossa Sabellicus a riteth, that he maintained octavius Antipapa (or usurping Pope) against Alexander, 〈◊〉 great in Italy in Italy, and much bloodshed, and that the Romans were so crushed in one battle that he 〈…〉 they would never be able again to hold up their heads. But after this, Barbarossa both prosecuted by his enemies, and 〈…〉 with the plague in his camp, was glad to fly into Germany: and coming back with new forces, 〈…〉, the confederates unquished and 〈…〉, and driven in the end to crave Pope Alexander's favour. Of this Alexander 〈…〉 make great bo●●t how they restored him, and have the story engraven or painted in one of their 〈…〉 Church's for the Pope saying that her in disgussed apparel, and lining closely in the town like a poor Priest, 〈…〉 Crano discovered him, and made him, be greatly honoured by the whole city, by whom as is a aforesaid 〈…〉.  
〈…〉 Guelss and Ghebellines is spoken of (though it would ask a long discourse to tell the original how it first grew) yet somewhat I must needs say of it: 
Redate of the ●● Messia de viris le●●e.  the faction first rose of a 〈…〉 between two Dutchman in Italy being natural brothers, though unnaturally falling out, and either drawing parties it grew in the end to such a faction's. as neither Sylla and Marius, or Caesar and Pompey in Rome, nor ours of Lancaster and York in England, nor any other grown of religion, or what cause soever besides, hath been more violent.  
Essellino a notable tyrant, whom one Musatto a Padoan in a tragedy he wrote, affirms to have been gotten by the devil: His cruelty was such, he would cut up women quick with child, and burned at one time 12000 men alive. He was after taken prisoner, and died of famine.  
Of Hercules of Este, as the praises are great he gives him, so it appears in Guychardine, they are well deserved. For when Charles the eight came into Italy like a thunder (as writers of those times call him) this Hercules with his prudent carriage so ordered himself, as he and his country escaped that tempest.  
Concerning the victory that this Hippolito had of the Venetians, I shall have more occasion to speak of it in the 40. book.  
The two that Bradamant asketh Melyssa of, were brothers to Alfonso Duke of Ferrara, their names are Ferdinand and Lulio: the story is this. It happened that being all young men, Hippolito and one of these younger brothers fell both in love with one Courtesan, but she entertained the love of the younger with most kindness; whereupon Hippolito asked her one day very instantly, what it was that moved her to prefer his brother afore him; and she said it was his beautiful eye: whereupon Hippolito made some of his pages to thrust out his eyes. Notwithstanding he afterward recovered his eyes, and finding no redress by complaining to Alfonso, he and one other brother conspired to kill him; but at the time of the execution, their hearts failed them, or their minds altered: and after the conspiracy being discovered, they were kept in perpetual prison.  
And in this he alludes to that of Marcellus in Virgil, Luctus ac quaeretuorum.   

  

THE FOURTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Bradamant overcomes the false Magician,  
And sets Rogero free, who by and by  
Leapt on a horse not knowing his condition,  
Who bore him quite from sight of any eye.  
Renaldo sailed as he had commission,  
To England ward, but borne by wind awry,  
At Callidon in Scotland he arrived,  
When fair Geneuras' soul death was contrived.  

1  

〈…〉 is rather an 〈…〉 then a 〈…〉 of dissem●●.  THough he that useth craft and simulation,  
Doth seldom bend his acts to honest ends,  
But rather of an evil inclination,  
His wit and skill to others mischief bends:  
Yet sith in this our worldly habitation,  

〈◊〉  We do not ever dwell among our friends,  
Dissembling doubtless oftentimes may save  
men's lives, their same and goods, and all they have.   

2  
If man by long acquaintance and great proof,  

〈…〉 and neces 〈…〉 as that of 〈…〉 in Tar●● time to 〈…〉 himself the tyrant. 〈…〉.  To trust some one man seant can be alured,  
To whom he may in presence or aloof,  
Unfold the secrets of his mind assured:  
Then doth this damsel merit no reproof,  
That with Brunello (to all fraud enured)  
Doth frame herself to counterfeit a while,  
For to deceive deceivers is no guile.   

3  
Now while these two did to confer begin,  
She to his fingers having still an eye,  
The host and other servants of the Inn,  

〈…〉 blazing 〈…〉 for the most 〈…〉 cause great 〈…〉.  Came on the sudden with a woeful cry,  
And some did gaze without, and some within,  
(As when men see a Comet in the sky)  
The cause of this their wondering and their crying,  
Was that they saw an armed horseman flying.   

4  
And strait by th'host and others they were told,  
How one that had in Magic art great skill,  
Not far from thence had made a stately hold,  
Of shining steel, and placed it on a hill,  
To which he bringeth Ladies young and old,  
And men and maids according to his will,  
And when within that castle they have been,  
They never after have been heard or seen.   

5  
No sooner can he spy a pretty maid,  
But strait he takes her up into the air,  
The which his custom makes them all afraid,  
That either are or think that they be fair.  
Those hardy knights that went to give them aid,  
Of which sort many hither did repair, 
Simile, Horace: Omnia te aducrusum spectantia nulla restrosum.   
Went like the beasts to the sick Lion's den,  
For all went in, but none returned again.   

6  
This tale in worthy Bradamant did breed  
A kind of pleasure and confused joy,  
In hope (which after she performed indeed)  
The sight of her beloved to enjoy,  
She prayed the host procure a guide with speed,  
As though each little stay did breed annoy:  
She swears that in her heart she longed to wrestle  
With him that kept the captives in his castle.   

7  
Because that you sir knight should want no guide,  
(Brunello said) I will myself be he,  
I know the way, and somewhat have beside,  
By which may fortune you may pleasured be:  
He meant the ring offorce and virtue tried,  
Although he meant not she the same should see.  
Great thanks (quoth she) that you will take the pain,  
In hope hereby the precious ring to gain.   

8  
Thus each from other hiding their intent,  
They forward set like friends by break of day,  
Brunello sometime foremost of them went,  
Sometime behind, as chanced on the way.  
Now had they certain hours in travel spent,  
When they arrived where the castle lay,  

〈…〉  Whereas mount Pyrene stands above the plain,  
So high as may discover France and Spain.   

9  
When is the castle did in sight appear,  
So strange, so fair, so stately, and so high,  
In which that knight whom the esteemed so dear,  
With many others, prisoner did lie.  
She thought her finest time drew very near,  
To take the ring, and make Brunello die.  
Wherefore with open force she doth assail him,  
Whose strength with age and fear soon 'gan to sail him.   

10  
Her meaning was the Caitise to have killed,  
But unto that her noble heart said nay,  
Small praise would come from blood so basely spilled,  
She means to get the ring another way:  
But first the bound him where he wild or nild,  
And though with tears he did for pity pray,  
Yet lest she him unto a tree fast tie,  
And with the ring away the strait did ride.   

11  
And being in the green fast by the tower,  
Strait (as the fashion was) her horn she blew,  
Out came that armed knight that present hour,  
And seeing there a challenger in view,  
He seemeth to assault her with great power,  
But by the ring she all his falsehood knew:  
She saw he carride neither sword nor spear,  
Nor any weapon that one need to fear.   

12  
He only carride at his saddle bow,  
A shield all wrapped in a crimson case,  
And read a book by which he made to show  
Some strange and strong illusions in the place:  
And many that these cunnings did not know,  
He had deceived and ta'en in little space.  
And could both swords and lances to appear,  
When neither word nor lances them were near.   

13  
But yet the beast he road was not of art,  
But gotten of a Griffeth and a Mate,  
And like a Griffeth had the former part,  
As wings and head, and claws that hideous are,  
And passing strength and force and venturous hart,  
But all the rest may with a horse compare.  
Such beasts as these the hills of Ryfee yield,  
Though in these parts they have been seen but ceil.   

14  
This monster rare from far theft regions brought  
This rare Magician ordered with such skill,  
That in one month or little more he taught  
The savage monster to obey his will:  
And though by comurations strange he wrought,  
In other things his fancy to fulfil,  
(As cunning men sultry each strange conclusion)  
Yet in this Griffeth horse was one collusion.   

15  
The Lady fair protected by the ring,  
Found all his sleights (although she seemed not so)  
Her purpose to the better pass to bring,  
And first she seems to ward a coming blow,  
And then to strike, and oft to curse the wing,  
That carride still away her flying so,  
And sith to fight on horseback did not boot,  
She seems as in a rage to light on foot.   

16  
The Necromancer, as his manner is,  
Disclosed at the last his shining shield,  
Supposing that the virtue would not miss,  
To make her (as it had done others) yield:  
So have I seen a crafty cat ere this, 
Simile.   
Play with a silly mouse o● house or field,  
And let it go a while for sport and play,  
But kill at last and bear it quite away.   

17  
I say that he the cat, the other mice,  
Resembled had in every former fight,  
But now this ring had made this one so wise,  
That when she saw the strange enchanted light,  
She falleth not of force, but of deurie, 
Sat at 〈…〉 art.   
As though she were atoned at the sight,  
And lay like one of life and sense bereaved,  
By which the poor Magician was deceived.   

18  
For strait he lighted from the flying horse,  
To take her as he had done many more,  
The shield and book in which was all his force,  
He left behind him at his saddle bow,  
But thinking to have found a senseless corpse,  
Amazed and dead, he finds it nothing so,  
For up the starts, so quite the case was altered,  
That with the cord he brought, himself was haltred.   

19  
And when with those self bonds she had him tide,  
By which he thought before her to have snared,  
She strong and young, he withered, old and dried,  
Alas an unmeet match to be compared,  
Forthwith determining he should have died,  
To strike his head from shoulders she prepared,  
Till she was moved to mercy with his tears,  
And with the sight of white and hoaty hairs.   

20  
For when he saw his force was overlaid,  
And that her strength was not to be withstood,  
O pardon life thou heavenly wight (he said) 
Sentence.   
No honour comes by spilling aged blood.  
Which words to mercy moved the noble maid,  
Whose mind was always merciful and good.  
Then why he built the castle she demanded,  
And what he was to tell her him commanded.   

21  
With woful words the old man thus replied,  
I made this castle for no ill intention,  
For covetise or any salt beside,  
Or that I loved rapine or contention,  
But to prevent a danger shall betide  
A gentle knight, I framed this invention:  
Who as the heavens hath showed me in short season,  
Shall die in Christian state by silthy treason.   

22  
Rogero named is this worthy youth,  
Whose good and safety sane I would advance,  
My name Atlante is to tell you truth,  
I bred him of a child, till his hard chance,  
And valiant mind (that breeds alas my ruth)  
With Agramant entist him into France.  
And I that (like mine own child) alway loved him,  
From France and danger sane would have removed him.   

23  
By art and help of many a hellish else,  
This castle for Rogero I did build,  
And took him as I meant to take thyself,  
But that with greater art I was beguiled,  
From dainty fare, and other worldly pelse,  
Because he should not think himself exiled,  
For company I brought him worthy wights,  
Both men and women, Ladies fair and Knights.   

24  
They have all plenty of desired pleasure,  
I bend to their contentment all my care,  
For them I spend my travel and my treasure,  
For music, clothes and games, and daintiesare,  
As hart can think, and mouth require with measure,  
Great store for them within this castle are.  
Well had I traveled, well my time bestowed,  
But you have marred the fruits that I had sowed,   

25  
But if your mind be gracious as your look,  
If stony heart bide not in tender breast,  
Behold I offer thee my shield and book,  
And flying horse, and grant my just request,  
Some two or three, or all the Knights I took,  
I give thee free, let but Rogero rest:  
Whose health whose wealth, whose sasty and welfare  
Have ever been (and ever shall) my care.   

26  
Your care (quoth she) is very ill bestown,  
In thraldom vile to keep a worthy wiglit:  
As for your gifts you offer but mine own,  
Sith by my conquest you are mine in right.  
Those dangers great you say to be foreshown,  

●entence. ● The. Moor. ●nque prescieris sands est nulla ●culeas. Quid ●scure juuat ● patiere 〈…〉?  And upon him in time to come must light,  
With figures cast and heavenly planets viewed,  
Cannot be known or cannot be eschewed.   

27  
How can you others harms foresee so far,  
And not prevent your own that were so nigh?  
I certain shall suppose your art doth are,  
And for the rest the end the truth shall try  
I now intent your matter all to mar,  
And that before these bonds I will untie,  
You shall set free and lose your prisoners all,  
Whom in this castle you detained thrall.   

28  
When as the poor old man was so distressed,  
That needs he must for fear and dread obey,  

〈…〉 bold opini● as conjurers and spirits in ●● or hollow ones, & by that ●orke their vange effects.  And that this same imperious dames behest,  
Could neither bear denial nor delay,  
To do as she commands he deems it best,  
And therefore takes th'enchanted place away.  
He breaks some hollow suming pots of stone,  
And strait the ways and buildings all were gone.   

29  
This done, himself eke vanished out of sight,  
As did the castle at that present hour,  
Then Ladies, Lords, and many a worthy knight,  
Were strait released from his enchanted power:  
And some there were had taken such delight  
In those so stately lodgings of that tower,  
That they esteemed that liberty a pain,  
And wished that pleasant slavery again.   

30  
Here were at freedom set among the rest,  
Gradasso, Sacrepant, two kings of name,  
Prasyldo and Iroldo that from th'Est  
Into this country with Renaldo came.  
Here Bradamant found him she loved best,  
Her dear Rogero of renowned same,  
Who after certain notice of her had,  
Did show to see her he was very glad.   

31  
As one of whom he great account did make,  
And thought himself to her most highly bound,  
Since sty put off her helmet for his sake,  
And in her head received a grievous wound,  
'twere long to tell what toil they both did take,  
Both night and day each other to have found,  
But till this present time they had no meeting,  
Nor given by word nor writing any greeting.   

32  
Now when before him present he beheld  
Her that from danger had him sole redeemed,  
His heart with so great joy and mirth was filled,  
The happiest wight on earth himself he deemed:  
And crystal tears from her fair eyes distilled,  
Embracing him whom she most dear esteemed.  
As oft we see a strong and sudden passion,  
Bring forth effects quite of another fashion.   

33  
The Griffeth horse the while upon the plain,  
Stood with the target at his saddle bow,  
The damsel thought to take him by the rain, 
Simile.   
But he than mounteth up, and like a crow  
Ghast by a dog forthwith descends again,  
And standeth still, or soareth very low,  
And when that some come nigh in hope to take him,  
He flies away that none can overtake him.   

34  
But near unto Rogero soon he stayed,  
Which by Atlanta's care was sole procured,  
Who for Rogeros' danger was afraid,  
And thinks his safety never well assured,  
Wherefore he sent this monster for his aid,  
And by this means from Europe him alured,  
To his welfare his cares and thoughts he bendeth,  
To succour and preserve him he intendeth.   

35  
Rogero from his horse forthwith alighted,  
(The horse he road on was Frontyno named)  
And with this flying horse was so delighted,  
That though he saw him wanton and untamed,  
Yet up he leapt, and soon was sore affrighted,  
He finds he would not to his mind be framed,  
For in the air the Griffeth soared so high,  
As doth the Falcon that at soul doth sly.   

36  
The damsel saire that now beheld her dear,  
Borne far away by force of monster's wing,  
Was sorrowful and of so heavy cheer,  

〈…〉 to heaven by an 〈…〉  That to their course her wits she scant could bring.  
The tale of Ganymed the once did hear,  
Whom Poets sane to tend the heavenly king,  
She doubts may true of her Rogero be,  
That was as comely and as fair as he.   

37  
As long as cysight could at all prevail,  
So long she viewed him still in all and part:  
But when his distance made the fight to sail,  
At least she followed him in mind and hart,  
To sob, to sigh, to weep, lament and wail,  

〈…〉  She never leaves these chances overthwart.  
And seeing plain her love and she were parted,  
She took Frontyno and away departed.   

38  
Now was Rogero mounted up so high,  
He seemed to be a mote or little prick,  
For no man could distinguish him by eye,  
Except his sight were passing sine and quick:  
All southerly this Griffeth horse doth fly,  

〈…〉  (Was nevermade that ferued man such a trick)  
But let him on his way, God speed him well,  
For of Renaldo somewhat I must tell.   

39  
Who all the while with raging tempest strived,  
Borne where himself nor no man else did know,  
By cruel stormy winds and weather drived,  
That day; and nights surceased no: to blow:  
At last in Scotland weary he arrived,  

●mou● ferrest S●otland.  Where woods of Callidony first do show,  
A famous wood wherein in times of old,  
Brave deeds were done by venturous knights & bold.   

40  
Here have those famous knights great honour won,  
At whose rare worth the world it self did wonder,  
Here were most valiant acts archieued and done,  
By knights that dwelled there near or far asunder,  
And many a man hath here been quite undone,  
Whose seeble force his enemy was under.  
Here were, as proved is by ancient charter,  
The famous Tristram, Lancelios and sir Arthur.   

41  
At this same wood Renaldo from his fleet,  
Well mounted on his Bayards back did part,  
He points his men at Berwick him to meet,  
The while himself alone with valiant heart,  
Sometime on horse back, sometime on his feet,  
Doth march in mind to do some worthy part,  
But seeing now the night came on so fast,  
Unto an Abbey he repairs at last.   

42  

Here you must begin to 〈…〉  The Abbot and his Monks with comely grace,  
As holy men of human manners skilled,  
Did welcome him, and in a little space,  
With costly rate his emptic stomach filled.  
〈…〉 strait inquired of the place,  
What feats of arms had there been late fulfilled,  
And where a man by valiant acts may show,  
I● his exploits deserve dispraise or no.   

43  
They said that in that wood and forest, find  
Adventures strange and feats of arms he might,  
But as the place, so are the actions blind,  
That oft their doings never come to light.  
But if (say they) we may persuade your mind,  
Attempt an action worthy of a knight,  
Where if you pass the peril and the pain,  
Eternal same shall unto you remain.   

44  
For if you would perform an act indeed,  
Whereby great name and honour may be won,  
Then this would be the best and noblest deed,  
That late or long time past was ever done:  
Our Prince's daughter standeth now in need,  
Of great defence, a danger great to shun,  
Against a knight Lurcanio by name,  
That seeks her life to take away and same.   

45  
This knight hath her unto the king accused,  
I think of malice rather than of right,  
That he hath seen how she herself abused,  
And closely took her lover up by night. 
This blodie● shanked be ● is desanul'● this Island 〈…〉 good whi●.   
Now by the laws that in this land are used,  
Except she have a champion that by might  
Within a month Lurcanio prove a liar,  
She shall be strait condemned to the fire.   

46  
The Scottish law that breedeth all this strife,  
Appoints that all of base or better sort,  
That take a man except she be his wife,  
And spends her time with him in Venus' sport,  
By cruel torment finish shall her life,  
Except she find some knight that will support,  
That she the heinous fact hath not committed,  
But that in law she ought to be acquitted.   

47  
The King for fair Geneura takes great thought, 
Gene●rad 〈…〉ter to the k● Scots.   
Both for her safety and her estimation,  
And seeks by all good means that may be wrought  
For her defence, and maketh proclamation,  
That by whose help from danger she is brought,  
(Provided he be one of noble nation)  
Shall have the goodly damsel for his wife,  
With huing large to keep him all his life.   

48  
But if within this month that now ensueth,  
(So little time for her defence is left her)  
No knight will come that will defend her truth,  
Then friends and same, and life will be bearest her,  
This enterprise would much commend your youth,  
The praise whereof would last a great while after:  
And from Atlanta's pillars unto Ind,  
A fairer Lady you shall never find.   

49  
Now then beside the honour and the praise,  
To have a state, may make you live content,  
The Prince's love (that helpeth many ways, 
Knight's 〈…〉 sworn to def● justice with ● sword, and ●● leeve the 〈…〉 sed.   
Whose honour now is half consumed and spent.  
Again true knights should help at all assays,  
When any harm to Ladies fair is meant.  
The very law of knighthood doth command you,  
To grant this aid that we do now demand you.   

50  
Renaldo pausd, and after thus he spoke,  
Why then (said he) must this fair damsel die,  
That for her true and secret lovers sake,  
Did condescend within his arms to lie?  
Accursed be they that such a law did make,  
Accursed be they that mean to live thereby,  
Nay rather point a punishment and pain  
For such as do their lovers true disdain.   

51  
If fair Geneura had her friend or no,  
I stand not now the matter to descide,  
Yea I would praise her had she done it so,  
That by her foes it had not been espied.  
Be as be may, my meaning is to go  
To fight for her, if I may have a guide  
That will but show me where is her accuser,  
And I shall quickly prove he doth abuse her.   

52  
I know not if the fact she have committed,  
Nor can I say in this the certain sure:  
But this I say, it ought to remitted,  
Much rather than she should distress endure.  
I further say, they were but meanly witted,  
That did so strait a statute first procure.  
I also say, this law they ought recall,  
In place thereof a better to install.   

53  
Sith like desire the fancies doth possess,  
Both of the male and of the female gender,  

● men should it a greater, withstanding Renaldoes ●on,  To do that thing that fools count great excess,  
And quench the flame that Cupid doth engender,  
To grant the men more scope, the women less,  
Is law for which no reason we can render.  
Men using many never are ashamed,  
But women using one or two are blamed.   

54  
This law I say is partial and nought,  
And doth to women plain and open wrong,  
I trust in God they shall be better taught,  

〈◊〉 this point like many are ● religion.  And that this law shall be revoked ere long.  
The Abbot and his Monks in word and thought,  
Allowed Renaldoes speech, both old and young:  
They all condemn the law, and partly blame  
The king that may and mendeth not the same.   

55  
Next morning when Renaldo doth perceive  
The Sun appear, and stars their heads to hide,  
He thanks them for his cheer, and taketh leave,  
And takes a target-bearer for his guide,  
For fear left unknown paths should him deceive.  
Himself all armed doth on Bayard ride,  
And to the Scottish court he goes a stranger,  
For to defend the damsel fair from danger.   

56  
And for they thought to take a way more nigh,  
They leave the common way a mile or twain,  
When suddenly they heard a piteous cry,  
Well like to one that feared to be slain.  
In haste they spur their horses by and by,  
Along the vale, and looking down the plain,  
A maid between two murderers they saw,  
That meant to take her life against all law.   

57  
The caitises put the damsel in great fear,  
And showed that they were come to end her days,  
Which made her weep, and shed full many a tear,  
To move their minds she trieth many ways:  
And though the fact a while they did forbear,  
Yet now they had removed all delays,  
When as Renaldo came unto her aid,  
And made the malefactors fore afraid.   

58  
Away they fled and left the wench alone,  
For dread of death paid and fore affrighted,  
Who all her cause of danger and of moan,  
Unto Renaldo strait would have recited,  
But so great haft he maketh to be gone,  
He gave no ear, nor from his horse alighted,  
But to ensue the journey first assigned him,  
He caused the guide to take her up behind him.   

59  
And now on horseback marking well her face,  
And marking more her gesture and behaviour,  
Her pleasing speech, and modest sober grace,  
She now hath won a great deal more his favour,  
And after he had rode a little space,  
To tell her hard adventure he would have her:  
And she began with humble voice and low,  
As more at large hereafter I will show.   
In this fourth book, whereas dissembling is praised, we may note in what sort and with what persons it is allowable, 
Moral.  seeing generally in itself it is a most unnoble and unworthy quality. In that Bradamant by the ring doth discover Atlanta's enchantments, and frustrate all his purpose, we nay note, how reason tempered with courage, prevails to the overthrow of all deceits and subtle practices. In Rogero, that was carried away unawares by the winged horse, we have an example to make us take heed of rash & unadvised enterprises. In Renaldoes speech, condemning the rigour of the law, that adultery was punished by death in women rather than in men, as we may with him justly mislike such partiality in laws: so we may note the manner and phrase of speech of young gentlemen (as Renaldo was) that make so light of their sweet sin of lechery, as they call it, not regarding how sour heavy punishment hangs over it, and what a foul reproach it is to both sexes. And so much for the Moral.  
For the History of this book, little is to be said of the time of Charles the great, because the book digresseth to other 
History.  matters: but whereas mention is made of Calledon forest in Scotland, and of King Arthur his knights, I thought it not amiss, as in the former book I told you, what I thought of Merlin that was Arthur's great counsellor, so now somewhat to touch, as the space will permit, the reports that are true and probable of king Arthur. It is generally written and believed that this Arthur was a notable valiant and religious Prince, and that he governed this Island in that rude age with great love of his people, and honour of foreign nations, he instituted an order of the knights of the round table only (as it seems) of some merriment of hunting, or some pleasant exercises. He was himself of stature very tall, as appears by the proportion of him left (as they say here in our country of Somerset) in a door of a Church by the famous Abbey of Glassenbury, in which Abbey his wife Queen Guenever was buried, and within our memory taken up in a coffin, with her body and face in show plainly to be discerned, save the very tip of her nose, as divers dwelling there about have reported. But what manner of death king Arthur himself died, it is doubtful, and that which they report seems merely fabulous, namely that he was carried away in a barge from a bridge called Pomperles, near the said Glassenbury, and so conveyed by ●●●no●ne persons, (or by the Lady of the Lake) with promise to bring him back again one day! upon which it seems the foolish people grounded their vain saying (King Arthur comes again.)  
For my part I confess myself to have been more inquisitive of such trifles then a wiser man would, and viewing that bridge and all that country about Glassenbury, I see good reason to guess, that all that country which now we call our moors (and is reduced to profitable and fertile ground) was sometime recovered from the sea, and might be navigable up to Glassenbury in those times: and so I suppose the said King being drowned there by some mishap, and being well beloved of the people, some feigned (to content their minds) that he was but gone a little way, and would come again: as the Senate of Rome, having killed Romulus for his tyranny, devised a tale of I know not what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to make the people believe he was turned to a god. 
Camd. in Britania was Somerses.  M. Camden the best antiquary of our time, writeth that king Arthur's body was taken up at the foresaid Glassenbury in the time of king Henry the second, which indeed is most credible, as he there proveth. But this I conclude, that this Prince was so worthy a man in his time, as not only true histories have greatly recommended to the posterity, but almost all Poetical writers that have been since, have mentioned this famous Prince Arthur of England, as a person of whom no notable exploit was incredible. And thus much for king Arthur.  
For the Allegory of this book, 
Allegory.  much might be said of Atlant, of his horse and his shield, but I will only touch what I think will be thought most worth the noting, and let pass the rest for each man's private conceit. Atlant by many of his gestures and actions here specified, may signify Cupid, or that fond fancy that we call love: and whereas he takes up such brave captains and soldiers, as well as women and weaklings: it seems consonant to that pretty fantastik verse of Ovid: 
Militat omnis amans & habet sua castra Cupido.  
All lovers warriors are, and Cupid hath his camp.   
Further, the wings of this strange beast called the Griphith horse, agree with Petrarks description of Cupid's wings: 
Sopra gli homeri havea sol due grand'ali, di colour mill.  
Upon his shoulders were two mighty wings, of thousand colours.   
Atlant takes, and imprisons those he takes. Love is as close and inextricable a prison as his.  
The ways to atlant castle are described to be craggy, headlong, and unpleasant. Such be the ways of that passion. The castle is said to be placed in the middle of a rocky mountain ●losse● in sunder: by which is meant, that this folly we speak of possesseth us, and dwells in us most of all about the middle of our age, as Dant saith, 
Nell mezzo del camin di nostra vita,  
Mi retrovai per una selua oscura,  
Che la dritta via era smarrita.  
While yet my life was in her middle race,  
I found, I wandered in a darksome wood,  
The right way lost with mine unstedy pace.   
This is that wandering wood, of which the doleful Petrarke complains so often in those his sweet mourning sonnets, in which he seems to have comprehended all the passions that all men of that humour have felt. And this he saith of it: 
Ond' Io son fatto vn' animal siluestro,  
Che co pie vaghi solitari e lassi,  
Porto il cor grave, e gli occhi humidi e bassi,  
All mondo che e per me un deserto.  
Thus I am grown a savage beast and vild,  
That still with wandering steps and solitary,  
A heavy heart and watered eyes do carry,  
About the world which is my forest wild.   
Also whereas it is said what plenty of all pleasures they had in Atlanta's castle, it signifieth, that delicious fare and such ●picuriall and idle life, are the chief nurses of this fond affection, according to that saying of Ovid, 
Otia si tollas periere cupidinis arcus,  
Contemptae●ue jacent & sine luce faces.  
Take idleness away, and out of doubt  
Cupid's bow breaks, and all his lamps go out.   
Finally, the fortification of the castle, the fuming pots of stone, the situation and height, and every thing that is said of the man, the horse, the house, the shield, are so easy to understand in allegorical sense, as I think it needless to proceed any further in this matter.  
For allusions, 
Allusion.  I find little to be said, sa●e of Geneura herself, which I will reserve to the next books.   

  

THE fifth BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  

Dalinda tells what sleights her Duke devised,  
To get with fair Geneura reputation:  
Lurcanio of his brothers fall advised,  
Accus'th her publicly of fornication.  
A Knight unknown in armour black disguised,  
Comes and withstands Lurcanios' accusation,  
Until Renaldo made all matters plain,  
By whom the unjust Duke was justly slain.   

1  
WE see the rest of living creatures all,  

Look more at Large in the end of the book, of this moral.  Both birds and beasts that on the earth do dwell,  
Live most in peace, or if they hap to brawl,  
The male and female still agreeth well.  
The fierce, the faint, the greater not the small,  
Against the law of nature will rebel.  
The ●auage Lions, Bears and Bulls most wild,  
Unto their females show themselves most mild.   

2  
What fiend of hell, what rage reigns here so rife,  
Disturbing still the state of human hearts?  
How comes it that we find twixt man and wife,  

S Te●. calls marriage be t●● Syn●●●a of the bed undefiled.  Continual jars bred by injurious parts?  
The undefiled bed is filled by strife,  
And tears that grow of words unkind and thwarts:  
Nay oft all care and fear is so exiled,  
Their guilty hands with blood have been defiled.   

3  
No doubt they are accursed and passed all grace,  
And such a● have of God nor man no fear,  
That dare to strike a damsel in the face,  
Or of her head to minish but a hair:  
But who with knife or poison would unlace  
Their line of life, or flesh in pieces tear,  
No man, nor made of flesh and blood I deem him,  
But sure some hound of hell I do esteem him.   

4  
Such were these thieves that would the damsel kill,  
That by Renaldoes coming was recovered:  
They secretly had brought her down the hill,  
In hope their fact could never be discovered,  
Yet such is God, so good his gracious will,  
That when she looked lest she was delivered,  
And with a cheerful heart that late was sorry,  
She doth begin to tell the woeful story.   

5  
Good sir (said she) my conscience to discharge,  
The greatest tyranny I shall you tell,  
That erst in Thebes, in Athens or in Arge,  
Was ever wrought, 
In these th● ties divers 〈◊〉 tyrannies 〈◊〉 been co●●  or where worst tyrants dwell:  
My voice and skill would fail to tell at large  
The filthy fact, for I believe it well,  
Upon this country Phoebus shines more cold,  
Because he doth such wicked acts behold. 
Ne tam 〈◊〉 equos tyrie 〈◊〉 iungit ab●●●    

6  
Men seek we see, and have in every age,  
To foil their foes, and tread them in the dust:  
But there to wreak their ranco● and their rage,  
Where they are loved, is foul and too unjust. 
Sentence.   
Love should prevail, just anger to assuage,  
If love bring death, whereto can women trust?  
Yet love did breed my danger and my fear,  
As you shall hear if you will give me ear.   

7  
For entering first into my tender spring  
Of youthful years, unto the court I came,  
And served there the daughter of our king,  
And kept a place of honour with good fame,  
Till love (alas that love such care should bring)  
Envied my stare, and sought to do me shame.  
love made the Duke of Alban seem to me,  
The furest wight that erst mine eye did see.   

8  
And (for I thought he loved me all above)  
I bent myself to hold and love him best,  

●●ce.  But now I find that hard it is to prove,  
By sight or speech what bides in secret breast,  
While I (poor I) did thus believe and love,  
He gets my body bed and all the rest.  
Nor thinking this might breed my mistress danger,  
I used this practice in Geneuras' chamber.   

9  
Where all the things of greatest value lay,  
And whore Geneura sleeps herself so metime,  
There at a window we did find a way,  
In secret sort to cover this our crime:  
Here when my love and I were bend to play,  
I taught him by a scale of cord to climb,  
And at the window I myself would stand,  
And let the ladder down into his hand.   

10  
So oft we meet together at this sport,  
As fair Geneuras' absence gives us leave,  
Who used to other chambers to resort  
In summer time, and this for heat to leave:  
And this we carried in so secret sort,  
As none there was our doings did perceive,  
For why, this window standeth out of sight,  
Where none do come by day nor yet by night.   

11  
Twixt us this use continued many days,  
Yea many months we used this privy train,  
Love set my heart on fire so many ways,  
That still my liking lasted to my pain.  
I might have found by certain strange delays,  
That he but little loved and much did feign,  
For all his sleights were not so closely covered,  
But that they might full easily be discovered.   

12  
At last my Duke did seem inflamed sore,  
One fair Geneura: neither can I tell,  
If now this love began or was before,  
That I did come to court with her to dwell.  
But look if I were subject to his lore,  
And look if he my love requited well,  

policy used stime to woe ●aid to win ●●stres.  He asked my aid herein no whit ashamed,  
To tell me how of her he was inflamed.   

13  
Not all of love, but partly of ambition,  
He bears in hand his mind is only bend,  
Because of her great state and high condition,  
To have her for his wife is his intent:  
He nothing doubteth of the king's permission,  
Had he obtained Geneuras free assent.  
Ne was it hard for him to take in hand,  
That was the second person in the land.   

14  
He swore to me, if I would be so kind  
His high attempt to further and assist,  
That at his hands I should great favour find,  
And of the king procure me what me list:  
How he would ever keep it in his mind,  
And in his former love to me persist,  
And notwithstanding wife and all the rest,  
I should be sure that he would love me best.   

15  
I strait consented to his fond request,  
As ready his commandment to obey,  
And thinking still my time employed best,  
When I had pleased his fancy any way:  
And when I found a time than was I priest,  
To talk of him, and good of him to say.  
I used all my art, my wit, and pain,  
Geneuras' love and liking to obtain.   

16  
God knoweth how glad I was to work his will,  
How diligent I followed his direction,  
I spared no time, no travel, nor no skill,  
To this my Duke to kindle her affection:  
But always this attempt succeeded ill,  
Love had her heart already in subjection,  
A comely knight did fair Geneura please,  
Come to this country from beyond the seas.   

17  
From Italy for service (as I hear)  
Unto the court he and his brother came,  
In tourneys and in tilt he had no peer,  
All Britain soon was filled with his fame.  
Our king did love him well and hold him dear,  
And did by princely gifts confirm the same.  
Fair castles, towns, and lordships, him he gave,  
And made him great, such power great princes have.   

18  
Our Sovereign much, his daughter liked him more,  
And Ariodant this worthy knight is named, 
Aetna and Veswio, two mountains that did cast out flames,   
So brave in deeds of arms himself he bore,  
No Lady of his love need be ashamed:  
The hill of Sicil burneth not so sore,  
Nor is the mount Veswio so inflamed,  
As Ariodantes heart was set on fire,  
Geneuras' beauty kindling his desire.   

19  
His certain love by sign most certain found,  
Did cause my suit unwillingly was hard, 
Vt ametis a●● bilu esto.   
She well perceived his love sincere and sound,  
Inclining to his suit with great regard,  
In vain I seek my Duke's love to expound,  
The more I seek to make the more I marred.  
For while with words I seek to praise & grace him  
No less with works she striveth to deface him.   

20  
Thus being oft repulsed (so evil sped I,)  
To my too much beloved Duke I went,  
And told him how her heart was fixed already,  
How on the stranger all her mind was bend:  
And prayed him now sith there was no remedy,  
That to surcease his suit he would consent,  
For Ariodant so loved the princely wench,  
That Neptune's floods uneath his flames could quench   

21  
When Polynesso (so the Duke we call)  
This tale unpleasant oftentime had hard,  
And found himself his likel'hood very small,  
When with my words her deeds he had compared,  
Grieved with repulse, and grieved there withal,  
To see this stranger thus to be preferred.  
The love that late his heart so sore had burned,  
Was cooled all, and into hatred turned.   

22  
In●●●ding by some vile and subtle train,  
To part Geneura from her faithful lover,  
And plant so great mislike between them twain,  
Yet with so cunning show the same to cover,  
That her good name he will so foul distain,  
Al●e nor dead she never shall recover.  
But lest he might in this attempt be thwarted,  
To none at all his secret he imparted.   

23  
Now thus resolved (Dalinda fair) quoth he,  

Sword●.  (I so am called) you know though trees be topped,  

The 〈…〉.  And throwded low, yet sprout young shoots we see,  
And issue from that head so lately lopped:  
So in my love it fareth now with me.  
Though by repulse cut short and shrewdly cropped,  
The pared tops such buds of love do render,  
That still I prove new passions do engender.   

24  
N● do I deem so dear the great delight,  
As I disdain I should be so reject,  
And lest this grief should overcome me q●ight,  
Because I fail to bring it to effect,  
To please my fond conceit this very night,  
I pray thee dear to do as I direct:  
When fair Geneura to her bed is gone,  
Take thou the clothes she ware and put them on.   

25  
As she is wont her golden hair to dress,  
In stately sort to wind it on her wire,  
So you her person lively to express,  
May dress your own and wear her head attire,  
Her gorgets and her jewels rich no less,  
You may put on t'accomplish my desire.  
And when unto the window I ascend,  
I will my coming there you do attend.   

26  
Thus I may pass my fancies foolish fit,  
And thus (quoth he) myself I would deceive.  
And I that had no reason nor no wit,  
His shameful drift (though open) to perceive:  
Did wear my mistress robes that served me fit,  
And stood at window, there him to receive.  
And of the fraud I was no whit aware,  
Till that fell out that caused all my care.   

27  
Of late twixt him and Ariodant had past,  
About Geneura fair these words or such,  
(For why there was good friendship in times passed  
Between them two, till love their hearts did such)  
The Duke such kind of speeches out did cast,  
He said to Ariodant, he marvelled much,  
That having always loved and well regarded him,  
That he again so thanklesly rewarded him.   

28  
I kn●w you see (for needs it must be seen)  
The good consent and matrimonial love,  
That long between Geneura and me hath been,  
For whom I mean ere long the king to move.  
Why should you fond thrust yourself between?  
Why should you rove your reach so fair above?  
For if my c●e were yours I would forbear,  
Or if I knew that you so loved were.   

29  
And I much more (the other strait replies)  
Do marvel you sir Duke are so unkind,  
That know our love, and see it with your eyes,  
(Except that wilfulness have made you blind)  
That no man can more sured knots devise,  
Then her to me, and me to her do bind,  
Into this suit so rashly are intruded,  
Still finding from all hope you are excluded.   

30  
Why bear you not to me the like respect,  
As my good will requireth at your hand?  
Since that our love is grown to this effect,  
We mean to knit ourselves in weddings ban●  
Which to fulfil ere long I do expect,  
For know I am (though not in rents or land)  
Yet in my Prince's grace no whit inferior,  
And in his daughters greatly your superior.   

31  
Well (said the Duke) errors are hardly moved, 
〈◊〉   
That love doth breed in unadvised breast.  
Each thinks himself to be the best beloved,  
And yet but one of us is loved best.  
Wherefore to have the matter plainly proved,  
Which should proceed in love, and which should rest,  
Let us agree that victor he remain,  
That of her liking showeth signs most plain.   

32  
I will be bound to you by solemn oath,  
Your secrets all and counsel to conceal,  
So you likewise will plight to me your troth,  
The thing I show you never to reveal.  
To try the matter thus they 'greed both,  
And from this doom hereafter not repeal:  
But on the Bible first they were deposed,  
That this their speech should never be disclosed.   

33  
And first the stranger doth his state reveal,  
And tell the truth in hope to end the strife,  
How she had promised him in woe and weal,  
To live with him, and love him all her life:  
And how with writing with her hand and seal,  
She had confirmed she would be his wife,  
Except she were forbidden by her father,  
For then to live unmarride she had rather.   

34  
And furthermore he nothing doubts (he said)  
Of his good service so plain proof to show,  
As that the king shall nothing be afraid,  
On such a Knight his daughter to bestow:  
And how in this he needeth little aid,  
As finding still his favour greater grow,  
He doubts not he will grant his liking after  
That he shall know it pleaseth so his daughter.   

35  
And thus you see so sound stands mine estate,  
That I myself in thought can wish no more,  
Who seeks her now is sure to come too late,  
For that he seeks is granted me before,  
Now only rests in marridge holy state,  
To knit the knot that must dure evermore.  
And for her praise, I need not to declare it,  
As knowing none to whom I may compare it.   

36  
Thus Ariodant a tale most true declared,  
And what reward he hoped for his pain.  
But my false Duke that him had foully snared,  
And found by my great folly such a train,  
Doth swear all this might no way be compared  
With his, no though himself did judge remain,  
For I (quoth he) can show signs so express,  
As you yourself inferior shall confess.   

37  
Alas (quoth he) I see you do not know  
How cunningly these women can dissemble,  

〈◊〉  They lest to love where they make greatest show,  
And not to be the thing they most resemble,  
But other favours I receive I trow,  
When as we two do secretly assemble,  
As I will tell you (though I should conceal it)  
Because you promise never to reveal it.   

38  
The truth is this, that I full oft have seen  
Her ivory corpses, and been with her all night,  
And naked lain her naked arms between,  
And full enjoin the fruits of loves delight:  
Now judge who hath in greatest favour been,  
To which of us she doth pertain in right,  
And then give place, and yield to me mine own,  
Sith by just proofs I now have made it known.   

39  
Just proofs? (quoth Ariodant) nay shameful lies,  
Nor will I credit give to any word:  
Is this the finest tale you can devise?  
What, hoped you that with this I could be dord?  
No, no, but sith a slander foul doth rise  
By thee to her, maintain it with thy sword,  
I call thee lying traitor to thy face,  
And mean to prove it in this present place.   

40  

The Duello a 〈◊〉 not bound ●swer a challenge for justification of any report 〈◊〉 can prove it 〈◊〉 true.  Tush (quoth the Duke) it were a foolish part,  
For you to fight with me that am your friend,  
Sith plain to show without deceit or art,  
As much as I have said I do intend.  
These words did gripe poor Ariodantes hart,  
Down all his limbs a shivering doth descend,  
And still he stood with eyes cast down on ground,  
Like one would fall into a deadly sound.   

41  
With woeful mind, with pale and chearlesse face,  
With trembling voice that came from bitter thought,  
He said he much desired to see this place,  
Where such strange feats and miracles were wrought.  
Hath fair Geneura granted you this grace,  
That I (quoth he) so oft in vain have sought?  
Now sure except I see it in my view,  
I never will believe it can be true.   

42  
The Duke did say he would with all his hart  
Both show him where and how the thing was done,  
And strait from him to me he doth depart,  
Whom to his purpose wholly he had won:  
With both of us he playeth so well his part,  
That both of us thereby were quite undone.  
First he tells him that he would have him placed  
Among some houses fallen and quite defaced.   

43  
Some ruynd houses stood opposed direct  
Against the window where he doth ascend,  
But Ariodant discreetly doth suspect  
That this false Duke some mischief did intend,  
And thought that all did tend to this effect,  
By treachery to bring him to his end,  
That sure he had devised this pretence,  
With mind to kill him ere he parted thence.   

44  
Thus though to see this sight he thought it long,  
Yet took he care all mischief to prevent,  
And if perhaps they offer force or wrong,  
By force the same for to resist he meant.  
He had a brother valiant and strong,  
Lurcanio called, and strait for him he sent,  
Not doubting but alone by his assistance,  
Against twice twenty men to make resistance.   

45  
He bids his brother take his sword in hand,  
And go into a place that he would guide,  
And in a corner closely there to stand,  
Aloof from other threescore paces wide,  
The cause he would not let him understand,  
But prays him there in secret sort to bide,  
Until such time he happed to hear him call,  
Else (if he loved him) not to stir at all.   

46  
His brother would not his request deny,  
And so went Ariodant into his place,  
And undiscovered closely there did lie,  
Till having looked there a little space,  
The crafty Duke to come he might descry,  
That meant the chaste Geneura to deface,  
Who having made to me his wont signs,  
I let him down the ladder made of lines.   

47  
The gown I ware was white, and richly set  
With aglets, pearl, and lace of gold well garnished,  
My stately tresses covered with a net  
Of beaten gold most pure and brightly varnished.  
Not thus content, the vail aloft I let,  
Which only Princes wear: thus stately harnished,  
And under Cupid's banner bend to fight,  
All unawares I stood in all their sight.   

48  
For why Lurcanio either taking care,  
Lest Ariodant should in some danger go,  
Or that he sought (as all desirous are)  
The counsels of his dearest friend to know, 
Sentence.   
Close out of sight by secret steps and ware,  
Hard at his heels his brother followed so,  
Till he was nearer come by fifty paces, 
So that he stood within ten paces of his brother.   
And there again himself he newly places.   

49  
But I that thought no ill, securely came  
Unto the open window as I said,  
For once or twice before I did the same,  
And had no hurt, which made me less afraid:  
I cannot boast (except I boast of shame)  
When in her robes I had myself arrayed,  
Me thought before I was not much unlike her,  
But certain now I seemed very like her.   

50  
〈…〉 that stood so far aloof,  
Was more deceived by distance of the place,  
A●d str●ght believed against his own behoof,  
Seeing her clothes that he had seen her face.  
Now ●et those judge that partly know by proof,  
The woeful plight of Ariodantes case,  
When Po●●ness● came by faithless friend,  
In both their sights the ladder to ascend.   

51  
I that his coming willingly did wait,  
And he once come thought nothing went amiss,  
Embraced him kindly at the first receipt,  
His lips, his cheeks, and all his face did kiss,  
And he the more to colour his deceit,  
Did use me kinder than he had ere this.  
This sight much care to Ariodante brought,  
Thinking Geneura with the Duke was nought.   

52  
The grief and sorrow sinketh so profound  
Into his heart, he strait resolves to die,  
He putteth the pummel of his sword on ground,  
And means himself upon the point to lie:  
Which when Iur●anio saw and plainly found,  
That all this while was closely standing by,  
And P●●messos coming did discern,  
Though who it was he never yet could learn.   

53  
He held his brother for the present time,  
That else himself for grief had surely slain,  
Who had he not stood night and come betime,  
His words and speeches had been all in vain.  
What shall (quoth he) a faithless woman's crime,  
Cause you to die or put yourself to pain?  

Not all women 〈◊〉 unless women  Nay let them go, and cursed be all their kind,  
Ay borne like clouds with every blast of wind.   

54  
You rather should some just revenge devise,  
As she deserves to bring her to confusion:  
Sith we have plainly seen with both our eyes,  
Her filthy fact appear without collusion.  
Love those that love again, if you be wise,  
For of my counsel this is the conclusion,  
Put up your sword against yourself prepared,  
And let her sin be to the king declared.   

55  
His brother's words in Ariodantes mind  
Seem for the time to make some small impression,  
But still the careless wound remained behind,  
Despare had of his heart the full possession.  
And though he knew the thing he had assigned,  

For 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 may be by the r●●es of Co●●enre●gi●●●  Contrary to Christened knights profession:  
Yet here on earth he torment felt so sore,  
In hell itself he thought there was no more.   

56  
An●'eeming now after a little pause,  
Unto his brother's counsel to consent,  
He fro● the court next day himself withdraws,  
And makes not one privy to his intent,  
His brother and the Duke both knew the cause,  
But neither knew the place whereto he went:  
divers thereof most diversly did judge,  
Some by good will persuaded, some by grudge.   

57  
seven days entire about for him they sought,  
seven days entire no news of him was found,  
The eight a peasant to Geneura brought  
These news, that in the sea he saw him drowned:  
Not that the waters were with tempest wrought,  
Nor that his ship was stricken on the ground.  
How then? Forsooth (quoth he) and therewith wept,  
down from a rock into the sea he leapt.   

58  
And further he unto Geneura told,  
How he met Ariodant upon the way,  
Who made him go with him for to behold  
The woeful act that he would do that day.  
And charged him the matter to unfold,  
And to his Prince's daughter thus to say,  
Had he been blind, he had full happy been,  
His death should show that he too much had seen.   

59  
There stands a rock against the Irish isle,  
From thence into the sea himself he cast:  
I stood and looked after him a while,  
The height and steepness made me sore aghast.  
I thence have traveled hither many a mile,  
To show you plainly how the matter past.  
When as the clown this tale had told and verifide,  
Geneuras' heart was not a little terrified.   

60  
O Lord what woeful words by her were spoken,  
Laid all alone upon her restless bed! 
Ovid Iu●●● tune fle●●● sinus at pri●● planxi.   
Oft did she strike her guiltless breast in token  
Of that great grief that inwardly was bred:  
Her golden tresses all were rend and broken,  
Recounting still those woeful words he said,  
How that the cause his cruel death was such,  
Was only this, that he had seen too much.   

61  
The rumour of his death spread far and near,  
And how for sorrow he himself had killed,  
The King was sad, the court of heavy cheer,  
By Lords and Ladies many tears were spilt.  
His brother most, as loving him most dear,  
Had so his mind with sorrow overfilled,  
That he was scantly able to refrain,  
With his own hands himself for to have slain.   

62  
And oftentimes repeating in his thought,  
The filthy fact he saw the other night,  
Which (as you heard) the Duke and I had wrought,  
I little looking it would come to light,  
And that the same his brother's death had brought,  
On fair Geneura he doth wreak his spite,  
Not caring (so did wrath him overwhelm)  
To lose the kings good will and all his realm●,   

63  
The king and nobles sitting in the hall,  
Right pensive all for Ariodants destruction,  
Lurcanio undertakes before them all,  
To give them perfect notice and instruction,  
Who was the cause of Ariodantes fall:  
And having made some little introduction,  
He said it was unchaste Geneuras' crime,  
That made him kill himself before his time.   

64  
What should I seek to hide his good intent?  
His love was such as greater none could be,  
He hoped to have your highness free assent,  
When you his value and his worth should see:  
But while a plain and honest way he went,  
Behold he saw another climb the tree,  
And in the midst of all his hope and suit,  
Another took the pleasure and the fruit.   

65  
He further said, not that he had surmised,  
But that his eyes had seen Geneura stand,  
And at a window as they had devised,  
Let down a ladder to her lovers hand,  
But in such sort he had himself disguised,  
That who it was he could not understand.  
And for due proof of this his accusation,  
He bids the combat strait by proclamation.   

66  
How sore the king was grieved to hear these news,  
I leave it as a thing not hard to guess,  
Lurcanio plain his daughter doth accuse,  
Of whom the King did look for nothing less:  
And this the more his fear and care renews,  
That on this point the laws are so express,  
Except by combat it be proved a lie,  
Needs must Geneura be condemned to die.   

67  
How hard the Scottish law is in this case,  
I do not doubt but you have heard it told,  
How she that doth another man embrace,  
Beside her husband, be she young or old,  
Must die, except within two fortnight's space,  
She find a champion stout that will uphold,  
That unto her no punishment is due,  
But he that doth accuse her is untrue.   

68  
The King (of crime that thinks Geneura clear)  
Makes offer her to wed to any knight,  
That will in arms defend his daughter dear,  
And prove her innocent in open fight.  
Yet for all this no champion doth appear,  
Such fear they have of this Lurcanios' might.  
One gazeth on another as they stand,  
But none of them the combat takes in hand.   

69  
And further by ill fortune and mischance,  
Her brother Zerbin now is absent thence,  
And gone to Spain (I think) or else to France,  
Who were he here, she could not want defence,  
Or if perhaps so lucky were her chance,  
To send him notice of her need from hence,  
Had she the presence of her noble brother,  
She should not need the aid of any other.   

70  
The King that means to make a certain trial,  
If fair Geneura guilty be or no,  
(For still she stiffly stood in the denial,  
Of this that wrought her undeserved woe)  
Examines all her maids, but they reply all,  
That of the matter nothing they did know.  
Which made me seek for to prevent the danger,  
The Duke and I might have about the stranger.   

71  
And thus for him more than myself afraid,  
(So faithful love to this false Duke I bore)  
I gave him notice of these things and said,  
That he had need for both of us beware.  
He praised my constant love, and farther prayed,  
That I would credit him, and take no care,  
He points two men (but both to me unknown)  
To bring me to a castle of his own.   

72  
Now sir, I think you find by this effect,  
How sound I did love him from my hart,  
And how I proved by plain course and direct,  
My meaning was not any ways to start:  
Now mark if he to me bare like respect,  
And mark if he requited my desert.  
Alas how shall a silly wench attain,  
By loving true to be true loved again?   

73  
This wicked Duke ungrateful and perjured,  
Beginneth now of me to have mistrust,  
His guilty conscience could not be assured,  
How to conceal his wicked acts unjust,  
Except my death (though causeless) be procured,  
So hard his heart, so lawless was his lust:  
He said he would me to his castle send,  
But that same castle should have been mine end.   

74  
He willed my guides when they were past that hill,  
And to the thick a little way descended,  
That there (to quite my love) they should me kill,  
Which as you say they to have done intended,  
Had not your happy coming stop their will,  
That (God and you be thanked) I was defended.  
This tale Dalinda to Renaldo told,  
And all the while their journey on they hold.   

75  
This strange adventure luckily befell  
To good Renaldo, for that now he found,  
By this Dalinda that this tale did tell,  
Geneuras mind unspotted clear and sound,  
And now his courage was confirmed well,  
That wanted erst a true and certain ground:  
For though before for her he meant to fight, 
A just quarrel is a great encouragement in fight.   
Yet rather now for to defend the right.   

76  
To great S. Andrews town he maketh haste,  
Whereas the King was set with ●ll his train,  
Most careful waiting for the trumpets blast,  
That must pronounce his daughter's joy or pain,  
But now Renaldo spurred had so fast,  
He was arrived within a mile or twain,  
And through the village as he then was riding,  
He met a page that brought them fresher tiding.   

77  
How there was come a warrior all disguised,  
That meant to prove Lurcanio said untrue,  
His colours and his armour well devised,  
In manner and in making very new:  
And though that sundry sundrily surmised,  
Yet who it was for certain no man knew:  
His page demanded of his master's name,  
Did swear he never heard it since he came.   

78  
Now came Renaldo to the city wall,  
And at the gate but little time he stayed,  
The porter was so ready at his call:  

Because of the 〈◊〉 that 〈…〉.  But poor Dalinda now grew sore afraid,  
Renaldo bids her not to fear at all,  
For why he would her pardon beg he said:  
So thrusting in among the thickest rout,  
He saw them stand on scaffolds all about.   

79  
It strait was told him by the standers by,  
How there was thither come a stranger knight,  
That meant Geneuras' innocence to try,  
And that already was begun the fight:  
And how the green that next the wall did lie,  
Was railed about of purpose for the sight.  
This news did make Renaldo hasten in,  
And leave behind Dalinda at her Inn.   

80  
He told her he would come again ere long,  
And spurs his horse that made an open lane,  
He pierced in the thickest press among,  
Whereas these valiant knights had given and ta'en,  
Full many strokes, with sturdy hand and strong,  
Lurcanio thinks to bring Geneuras' bane,  
The tother means the Lady to defend,  
Whom (though unknown) they favour & commend.   

81  
There was Duke Polynesso bravely mounted,  
Upon a cour●er of an excellent race,  
Six knights among the better sort accounted,  
On foot in arms do marshal well the place.  
The Duke by office all the rest surmounted,  
High Constable (as always in such case)  
Who of Geneuras' danger was as glad,  
As all the rest were sorrowful and sad.   

82  
Now had Renaldo made an open way,  
And was arrived there in lucky hour,  
To cause the combatto surcease and stay,  
Which these two knights applied with all their power.  
Renaldo in the court appeared that day,  
Of noble chivalry the very flower,  
For first the Prince's audience he prayed,  
Then with great expectation thus he said.   

83  
Send (noble Prince) quoth he, send by and by,  
And cause forthwith that they surcease the fight,  
For know, that which so ere of these doth die,  
It certain is he dies against all right.  
One thinks he tells the truth, and tells a lie,  
And is deceived by error in his sight,  
And look what cause his brother's death procured,  
That very same hath him to fight alured.   

84  
The tother of a nature good and kind,  
Not knowing if he hold the right or no,  
To die or to defend her hath assigned,  
Left so rare beauty should he spilt so.  
I harmless hope to save the faultless mind:  
And those that mischief mind to work them woe,  
But first o Prince to stay the fight give order,  
Before my speech proceedeth any farther.   

85  
Renaldoes person with the tale he told,  
Moved so the king, that strait without delay,  
The knights were bidden both their hands to hold,  
The combat for a time was caused to stay,  
Then he again with voice and courage bold,  
The secret of the matter doth bewray;  
Declaring plain how Polynessos' lechery  
Had first contrived and now betrayed his treachery.   

86  
And proffreth of this speech to make a proof,  
By combat hand to hand with sword and spear:  
The Duke was called that stood nor far aloof,  
And scantly able to conceal his fear;  
He first denies, as was for his behoof,  
And strait to battle both agreed were,  
They both were armed, the place before was ready,  
Now must they fight there could be no remedy.   

87  
How was the king, how were the people glad,  
That fair Geneura faultless there did stand,  
As Gods great goodness now revealed had,  
And should be proved by Renaldoes hand.  
All thought the Duke of mind and manners bad,  
The proudst and cruelest man in all the land,  
It likely was as every one surmised,  
That this deceit by him should be devised.   

88  
Now Polynesso stands with doubtful breast,  
With fainting heart, with pale dismayed face,  
Their trumpets blue, they set their spears in rest,  
Renaldo cometh on a mighty pace,  
For at this fight he finish will the feast,  
And where to strike him he designs a place:  
His very first encounter was so fierce,  
Renaldoes spear the tother's sides did pierce.   

89  
And having overthrown the Duke by force,  
As one unable so great strokes to bide,  
And cast him clean six paces from his horse,  
Himself alights and th'others helm untied,  
Who making no resistance like a corpse,  
With faint low voice for mercy now he cried,  
And plain confessed with this his latter breath,  
The fault that brought him this deserved death.   

90  
No sooner had he made this last confession,  
But that his life did fail him with his voy●e.  
Geneuras' double escape of foul oppression,  
In life and fame did make the King rejoice:  
In am of her to lose his crowns possession,  
He would have wished, if such had been his choice:  
To lose his realm he could have been no sadder:  
To get it lost he could have been no gladder.   

91  
The combat done, Renaldo strait untied  
His beaver, when the King that knew his face,  
Gave thanks to God that did so well provide,  
So doubtless help in such a dangerous case.  
That unknown knight stood all this while aside,  
And saw the matters passed in the place,  
And every one did muse and marvel much,  
What wight it was whose courtesy was such.   

92  
The king did ask his name because he meant,  
With kingly gifts his service to reward.  
Affirming plainly that his good intent,  
Deserved thanks and very great regard.  
The knight with much entreaty did assent,  
And to disarm himself he strait prepared,  
But who it was if you vouchsafe to look,  
I will declare it in another book.   
The very beginning of this book being as it were a moral of itself, 
Moral.  were sufficient for the point it treats of without any more speech to that purpose: but because the matter is such as cannot be too much spoken of, namely to persuade men to concord in matrimony, I must needs add a word or two thereof. And first for mine opinion, I profess that I think it a virtue for a man to be kind to his wife, & I am of the Censor Cato his mind, who being a marvelous ausiere man otherwise; yet pronounced flatly that a man could not be an honest man, that was not to his wife a kind man. And I will go thus much farther, that you shall hardly find a discreet loving husband, I mean (without dissimulation or flattery) but is withal a virtuous good minded man, be they of what calling they list: wherefore I honour matrimonial love in my superiors, I love it in my equals I praise it in my inferiors, I commend it in all, and to all of what sort or sex soever, & I wish them but to call to mind his comparison before set down in verse, and to this effect in prose, that if the male & female in beasts and foul, for the most part, live in concord & agreement, what a foul and worse than beastly thing is it, for man & wife to be ever brawling & snarling, (for as for smiting) I count it more than monstrous: & let all sorts embrace this honest love, not only commended but commanded by God, in holy Scriptures, where they are called both one flesh, to give us thereby to understand, that as we would not willingly break our own shins, nor let our finger ache if we could remedy the same, & if we see one strike himself, or knock his head to the wall, we think him Bidlem mad. So he that shall willingly grieve the wife of his bosom, or wickedly hurt her, we may think him far from a sober, & farther from an honest man. And even as if one have an ache or any grief in his toe or finger, strait▪ he doth lap that part in warm cloth, & ea seth it all he can, & cherisheth it more than before till it be sound again: so if any thing either ill don, or il takend perhaps though not il meant, (have bred a little pouting or lowering toward unkindness, we must lap up the part thus grieved in warm embracements, & heal it with sweet words. And if it be but a green wound, anoint it with the precious balsamum (which all good surgeons know to be a sovereign medicine for such griefs) and so we shall sound cure it without any maim or scar, but we must never come to the extremities of cutting or searing, except the disease grow to a Gangrena or some cankered malice unpossible to be cured.  
Another good moral observation to be gathered in this canto, is the choice of Cencuta, who being a great Lady by birth yet chose rather a gallant fair conditioned gentleman than a great Duke. For first it is no disparagement for the greatest Empress in the world to marry one that is a gentleman by birth, according to the old proverb, A gentleman may make a king and a clerk may prove a Pope. Secondly, if we mark generally the success of all marriages, we may find the saying of Themistocles true, Better is a man without money, than money without a man. To many and toto pitiful are the examples that we have hard of, I will not say seen, of those Ladies that to match themselves or their daughters on step higher nay but even the higher end of the same step higher than they might otherwise have done, have with that ambition undone them, making them live with great discontent, or to say the truth, flat misery, with their proud & unkind Lord. And yet cannot such evident & near examples move some both fair, & modest, & virtuous, to keep them out of such gilded gives. ●eleeue it Lady, to whomsoever I speak it, that a happy woman is seen in a white apron, as often as in an embroidered kirtle, & hath as quiet sleeps & as contented wake in a bed of cloth as under a sparuer of tissue. Boccasio speaking of the coyness of some grave widows, as well as nice damsels, saith as I remember in the labyrinth of lovers to this effect. Be a man (saith he) never so diseased, deformed, decrepit, unwholesome, unsavoury, yet if he have been either so good a storer for money, that he may leave his wife wealthy; or be so great in titles though a begar in living, that she may take her place the higher, they will (saith he) be contented to lay their so delicate and daintily preserved morsels, in such loathsome dishes to be daily smackt & slavered, binding themselves to suffer such a penance God knows how long, only to satisfy those humours of covetousness and pride, starving to their grief, the third humour (if they be so virtuous) that is by some thought the predominant humour in that sex, and many times dwells under the same roof with the other two. Yet surely I could rather commend his courtesan that he writes of in his Decameron, who having bargained with a Dutchman, one M. Bruffaldo, for seven days board and lodging at a great rate, having found him for one or two nights to be but an unsavoury bed fellow, she chose rather to lose those two nights hire, then to endure five more at so painful a price. But I doubt I grow too tedious while I shoot out such blots out of a Boccas. Now to go forward in the moral. You may note in Polynesso an envious and treacherous mind: in Ariodant the hurt of a credulous jealousy: in Lurcanio the vehemency of a wrong surmise. In Polynessos' intent to kill Dalinda, you may observe how wicked men often bewray their own misdeeds with seeking to hide them. In Geneuras' accusation and delivery, how God ever defends the innocent. And lastly in Polynessos' death, how wickedness ruins itself.  
For the history of this book, 
Story.  either the whole is a history, or there is no matter historical in it to be stood on.  
Allegory there is none in this book at all. 
Allegory.   
Allusion there is in this tale of Geneura, 
Allusion.  unto a story written in Alciats duello, of a matron in France accused in such sort, by two men, and a certain soldier of Barcelona came with a companion of his, and took upon them the defence of the woman, and being fight, the companion of the soldier fled: not withstanding he of Barcelona with his courage and virtue got the victory of the other two, and so in strange attire went home to his country unknown, to which Ariodant seems to allude. Some others affirm, that this very matter, though set down here by other names, happened in F●rrara to a kinswoman of the Dukes, which is here figured under the name of Geneura, and that indeed such a practice was used against her by a great Lord, and discovered by a damsel as is here set down. Howsoever it was, sure the tale is a pretty comical matter, and ha' ●bene written in English verse some few years past (learnedly and with good grace) though in ●erse of another kind, by M. George Turberuil.  
The rock from which Ariodant leapt into the sea, aliudeth to to the rock of Lewcade, where men that were mad for love leapt into the water, and washed away (〈◊〉 they thought) that fancy. Strabo calleth it faltus amatorius.   

  

THE sixth BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Geneurafaire to Ariodant is given,  
And he a Duke is made that very day.  
Rogero with the Griffeth horse is driven,  
Unto Alcynas' isle, and there doth stay.  
Amirtle in the middle strangely riven,  
Alcinas' frauds doth unto him bewray:  
Of which informed he thence would have departed,  
But by the way he finds his purpose thwarted.  

1  
Most wretched he, that thinks by doing ill,  
His evil deeds long to conceal and hide,  
For though the voice and tongues of men be still,  
By fowls or beasts his sin shallbe descried:  

〈◊〉 a Poet to this of.  And God oft worketh by his secret will,  

sword ubi se 〈◊〉 persomnia quentes 〈◊〉.  That sin itself the sinner so doth guide,  
That of his own accord, without request,  
He makes his wicked doings manifest.   

2  
The graceless wight, Duke Polinesso thought,  
His former fault should sure have been concealed,  
If that Dalinda unto death were brought,  
By whom alone the same could be revealed.  
Thus making worse the thing before was nought,  
He hurt the wound which time perhaps had healed.  
And weening with more sin the less to mend,  
He hastened on his well deserved end.   

3  
And lost at once his life, his state, and friends,  
And honour to, a loss as great or more.  
Now (as I said) that unknown knight intends,  
Sith every one to know him sought so sore,  
And sith the king did promise large amends,  
To show his face which they saw oft before,  
And Ariodant most lovely did appear,  
Whom they thought dead as you before did hear.   

4  
He whom Geneura woefully did wail,  
He whom Lurcanio deemed to be dead,  
He whom the king and court did so bewail,  
He that to all the realm such care had bred,  
Doth live; the clowns report in this did fail,  
On which false ground the rumour false was spread.  
And yet in this the peasant did not mock,  
He saw him leap down headlong from the rock.   

5  
But as we see men oft with rash intent  
Are desperate and do resolve to die, 
Sentence.   
And strait do change that fancy and repent,  
When unto death they do approach more nigh:  
So Ariodant to drown himself that meant,  
Now plunged in sea repent by and by,  
And being of his limbs able and strong,  
Unto the shore he swum again err long.   

6  
And much dispraising in his inward thought,  
This fond conceit that late his mind poslest,  
At last a blind and narrow path him brought,  
All tired and wet to be an hermits guest:  
With whom to stay in secretsort he sought,  
Both that he might his former grief digest,  
And learn the truth, if this same clowns report,  
Were by Geneura ta'en in grief or sport.   

7  
There first he heard how she conceived such griefs  
As almost brought her life to woeful end,  
He found of her they had so good belief,  
They thought she would not in such sort offend:  
He further heard except she had relief,  
By one that would her innocence defend,  
It was great doubt Lurcanios' acculation,  
Would bring her to a speedy condemnation.   

8  
And look how love before his heart enraged,  
So now did wrath inflame, and though he knew well  
To wreak his harm, his brother's life was gauged,  
He nathles thought his act so foul and cruel,  
That this his anger could not be assuaged,  
Unto his flame love found such store of fuel:  
And this the more increased his wrath begun,  
To hear how every one the fight did shun.   

9  
For why Lurcanio, was so stout and wise,  
Except it were for to defend the truth,  
Men thought he would not so the king despise,  
And hazard life to bring Geneuras' ruth,  
Which caused every one his friend advise,  
To shun the fight that must maintain untruth.  
But Ariodant after long disputation,  
Means to withstand his brother's accusation.   

10  
Alas (quoth he) Inever shall abide,  
Her through my cause to die in woe and pain,  
For danger or for death what ear betid,  
Be she once dead my life cannot remain,  
She is my saint, in her my bliss doth bide,  
Her golden rays my eyes light still maintain,  
Fall back, fall edge, and be it wrong or right,  
In her defence I am resolved to fight.   

11  
I take the wrong, but yet i'll take the wrong  
And die I shall, yet if I die I care not,  
But then alas, by law she dies ere long,  
O cruel laws so sweet a wight that spare not:  
Yet this small joy I find these griefs among,  
That Polinesso to defend her dare not,  
And she shall find how little she was loved,  
Of him that to defend her never moved.   

12  
And she shall see me dead there for her sake,  
To whom so great a damage the hath done:  
And of my brother just revengement take  
I shall, by whom this strife was first begun,  
For there at least my death plain proof shall make  
That he this while a foolish thread hath spun,  
He thinketh to avenge his brother's ill,  
The while himself his brother there shall kill.   

13  
And thus resolved, he gets him armour new,  
New horse and all things new that needful b●ene  
All clad in black, a sad and mournful hue,  
And crossed with wreath of yellow and of green,  
A stranger bore his shield that neither knew,  
His master's name nor him before had seen,  
And thus as I before rehearsed, disguised  
He met his brother as he had devised.   

14  
I told you what success the matter had,  
How Ariodant himself did then discover,  
For whom the king himself was even as glad,  
As late before his daughter to recover,  
And since he thought in joyful times and sad,  
No man could show himself a truer lover  
Than he that after so great wrong, intended  
Against his brother her to have defended.   

15  
Both loving him by his own inclination,  
And prayed thereto by many a Lord and knight,  
And chiefly by Renaldoes instigation,  
He gave to Ariodant Geneura bright.  
Now by the Duke's attaint and condemnation,  
Albania came to be the kings in right.  
Which duchy falling in so lucky hour,  
Was given unto the damsel for her dowry.   

16  
Renaldo for Dalindas pardon prayed,  
Who for her error did so sore repent,  
That strait she vowed, 
He●●e 〈◊〉 tale of G●●  with honest mind and stayed,  
To live her life in prayer and penitent:  
Away she packed, nor further time delayed, 
He ret●●● Renald●● st. 16. Forgets   
In Datia, to a nunnery there she went.  
But to Rogero now I must repair,  
That all this while did gallop in the air.   

17  
Who though he were of mind and courage stout,  
And would not easily fear or be dismayed,  
Yet doubtless now his mind was full of doubt,  
His hart was now paid, and sore afraid.  
far from Europa, he had travailed out,  
And yet his flying horse could not be stayed,  
But past the pillars xij. score leagues and more,  
Pitched there by Hercles' many years before.   

18  
This Griffeth horse a bird most huge and rare,  
Doth pierce the ●kie with so great force of wing, 
The E●ght 〈…〉   
That with that noble bird he may compare,  
Whom Poets feign Jove's lightning down to bring  
To whom all other birds inferior are,  
Because they take the Eagle for their king.  
Scarce seemeth from the clouds to go so swift,  
The thunderboltsent by the lightning's drift.   

19  
When long this monster strange had kept his race,  
Strait as a line bending to neither side,  
He spied an Island distant little space,  
To which he bends in purpose there to bide,  
Much like insemblance was it to the place,  
Where Arethusa used herself to hide,  
And seeks so long her love to have beguiled, ● 
Aret●●● in the 〈◊〉   
Till at the last she found herself with child.   

20  
A fairer place they saw not all the while,  
That they had travild in the air aloft  
In all the world was not a fairer isle,  
If all the world to find the same were sought:  
Here having travailed many a hundred mile,  
Rogero by his bird to rest was brought,  
In pastures green, and hills with cool fresh air,  
Clear rivers, shady banks, and meadows fair.   

21  
here divers groves there were, of dainty shade,  
Of Palm, or Orange trees, of Cedars tall,  
Of sundry fruits and flowers that never fade,  
The show was fair, the plenty was not small.  
And arbours in the thickest places made,  
Where little light, and heat came not at all:  
Where Nightingales did strain their little throats,  
Recording still their sweet and pleasant notes.   

22  
Amid the lily white and fragrant rose,  
Preserved still fresh by warm and temprate air,  
The fearful hare, and coney careless goes,  
The stag with stately head and body fair,  
Doth feed secure, not fearing any foes,  
That to his damage hither may repair,  
The Buck and do doth feed amid the fields,  
As in great store the pleasant forest yields.   

23  
It needless was to bid Rogero light,  
When as his horse approached nigh the ground,  
He cast himself out of his saddle quite,  
And on his feet he falleth safe and sound,  
And holds the horses rains, left else he might  
Flic quite away, and not again be found,  
And to a myrtle by the water side,  
Between two other trees his beast he tied.   

24  
And finding thereabout a little brook,  
That near unto a shady mountain stands,  
His helmet from his head forthwith he took,  
His shield from arm, his gauntlet from his hands,  
And from the higher places he doth look,  
Full oft to sea, full oft to fruitful lands,  
And seeks the cool and pleasant air to take,  
That doth among the leaves a murmur make,   

25  
Oft with the water of that crystal well,  
He seeks to quench his thirst and suage his heat,  
With which his veins inflamed did rise and swell,  
And ca●●d his other parts to fry in sweat:  
Well may it seem a marvel that I tell,  
Yet will I once again the same repeat,  
He traveled had above three thousand mile,  
And not put off his armour all the while.   

26  
Behold his horse he lately tied there,  
Among the boughs in shady place to bide,  
strove to go loose, and started back for fear,  
And pulls the tree to which the rains were tie,  
In which (as by the sequel shall appear)  
A human soul itself did strangely hide.  
With all his strength the steed st●ues to be loosed,  
By force whereof the myrtle sore was bruised.   

27  

birken out 〈◊〉.  And as an arm of tree from body rend,  
By peasant's strength with many a sturdy stroke,  
When in the fire the moisture all is spent,  
The empty places filled with air and smoke,  
Do boil and strive, and find at last a vent,  
When of the brand a shiver out is broke,  
So did the tree strive, bend, writhe, wring and break,  
Till at a little hole it thus did speak.   

28  
Right courteous knight (for so I may you deem,  
And must you call not knowing other name)  
I● so you are as gracious as you seem,  
Then let your friendly deed confirm the same,  
Unloose this monster, sent as I esteem,  
To add some farther torment to my shame.  
Alas, mine inward griefs were such before,  
By outward plagues they need be made no more.   

29  
Rogero mazed looked round about,  
If any man or woman he might see,  
At last he was resolved of his doubt,  
He found the voice was of the myrtle tree,  
With which abashed, though he were wise and stout,  
He said, I humbly pray thee pardon me, 
ovid. ●. Me●am. Quisq●●●s ● fa●●●●.   
Whether thou be some human ghost or sprite,  
Or power divine that in this woodhast right.   

30  
Not wilfulness, but ignorance did breed  
Thine injury, mine error in this case:  
And made me do this unadvised deed,  
By which unwares thy leaves I did deface:  
But let thy speech so far forth now proceed,  
To tell me who thou art that in this place,  
Dost dwell in tree amid the desert field,  
As God from hail and tempest thee may shield.   

31  
And if that ● for this amends may make,  
Or now or after, or by pain or art,  
I swear to thee by her, 
Bradamant. To whom Rog●●●●as a s●t●r.  and for her sake,  
That holds of me, and shall the better part,  
That I shall not surcease all pains to take,  
To work thy joy, or to assuage thy smart.  
This said, he saw again the nurtle shake,  
And then again he heard that thus it spoke.   

32  
Sir knight, your courtesy doth me constrain,  
To show to you the thing that you desire,  
Although I sweat (as you may see) with pain,  
Like greenest boughs upon the flaming fire,  
I will discover unto you her train,  
(Woe worth the time that ●uer I came nigh her)  
That did for malice and by magic strange,  
My lively shape to livelesle branches change.   

33  
I was an Earl, Astolfo was my name,  
Well known in France in time of war and peace,  
Orlando's cozen and Renalds, whose fame  
While time shall last in earth shall never cease.  
Of Oton king of English I'll I came,  
And should succeed him after his decease.  
Both comely, young, carelesle of worldly pelf,  
To none an enemy but to myself.   

34  
For as we turned from the Ester Isles,  
Whose banks are worn with surge of Indian wave,  
Where I and many more with witching wiles, 
This hath reference to the book called Orland●, Ina●●ora●o.   
Were strait enclosed in a hollow cave,  
Until Orlando did avenge the guiles,  
And found by force a mean his friends to save,  
We Westward went upon the shore and sand,  
That lieth on the Northside of the land.   

35  
And as we traveled homeward on our way,  
As chance did lead or destiny us drive,  
It was our fortune once on break of day,  
Hard by Alcynas' castle to arrive,  
Where she alone, to sport herself and play,  
Such kind of gins for fishes did cont●●ue,  
That though we saw no net, no bait, no hook,  
Yet still we saw that store of fish she took.   

36  
The Dolphin strong, the Tunnie good of taste,  
The Mullet, Stargeon, Salmon (princely fish)  
With purpose, S●ales, and Thornpooles came as fast,  
As she was pleased to command or wish.  
And still she took of each kind as they passed,  
Some strange for show, some dainty for the dish,  
The horsefish and the huge and monstrous whales,  
Whole mighty members harnessed are with scales.   

37  
Among the rest that were too long to count,  
We ●aw the fish that men Balena call,  
Twelve yards above the water did amount  
His mighty back, the monster is so tall:  
And (for it stood to s●●l) we made account,  
It had been land, but were deceived all,  
We were deceived, well I may rue the while,  
It was so huge we thought it was an ●le.   

38  
I sav this potent witch Alcyna took  
All ●●rt● o● fish without or net or aid,  
But only reading in a little book,  
O● mumbling words, I know not what she said,  
But se●●ng me, so well she liked my look,  
That at her sport but little time 〈◊〉 stayed,  
But 〈◊〉 forthwith to trap me by her skill,  
Which strait fe●l ●ut according to her will.   

39  
F●● toward me with pleasant cheer she came,  
In modest manner and in 〈…〉.  
And d●d withal her speech 〈◊〉 frame,  
And 〈…〉 to resort,  
O●● I would be partner of h●● g●me,  
She outred me to show me all the sport,  
And all the kinds of fish in seas that were,  
Some great, some small, some smooth, and some with hair.   

40  
And if you 〈◊〉 ● Mermaid fair to see,  
That can with song the raging storms appease,  
At yon● same little bank you may (quoth the)  
To which we two will safely pa●le with ease:  
(Th● bank which she pretends to show to me,  
Was that same ●ish the monster of the seas)  
And I that too much loved to adventure,  
Upon the fishes back with her did enter.   

41  
My cousin's 〈◊〉 and Ronaldo beckoned  
To draw me thence, I heard not what they said,  
But of their speech and signs I little reckoned,  
I had not wit enough to be afraid:  
But soon my courage was paid and weakened,  
I strait was ●aine in va●●e to cry for aid,  
The monstrous fish that ●eemd to me an I'll,  
Strait bore me from the shore full many a mile.   

42  
There was Ronald● like to have been drowned,  
Who 〈◊〉 to ●●ue me if perhaps he might,  
But ●o dainly of him and of the ground,  
A 〈◊〉 ud did take away the sight:  
〈…〉 and I with seas environed round,  
Did creuell on that monster all the night,  
And then with gracious speeches she began  
To gi●e me all the comfort that she can.   

43  
And thus at last to this place we repair,  
Of which by wrong Alcyna keeps possession,  
Deposing forcibly the rightful heir,  
(Her elder lawful sister) by oppression:  
The other two more vicious than fair,  
Are bastards, and begotten in transgression,  
I heard it told, and have it not forgotten, 
〈…〉   
She and Morgana were in incest gotten.   

44  
And as their first beginning was of sin,  
So is their life ungodly and defamed,  
Of law ●or justice passing not a pin,  
But like the heifer wanton and untamed,  
By war they seek their sister's right to win●e,  
Their elder sister Logistilla named,  
And have so far prevailed with their powers,  
They have of hers about an hundred towers.   

45  
And had er● this time taken all away,  
Save that the rest is strongly fenced round,  
For of one side the water stops the way,  
On th'other side the vantage of the ground,  
Which with a mighty bank doth make a stay,  
Much like the English and the Scottish bound:  
And yet the bastard sisters do their best,  
And labour still to spoil her of the rest.   

46  
And why, because they see her good and holy,  
They hated her because themselves are vicious,  
But to return, and tell you of my folly,  
That turned to me so hurtful and pernicious,  
I now again grew somewhat bold and jolly,  
I see no cause to fear or be suspicious,  
And finding she loved me by signs most plain,  
I wholly bend myself to love again.   

47  
When I her dainty members did embrace,  
I deemed then there was none other bliske,  
Me thought all other pleasures were but base,  
Of friends nor kin I had no want nor mis●e,  
I only wished to stand in her good grace,  
And have access her coral lips to kiss.  
I thought myself the happiest of all creatures,  
To have a Lady of so goodly features.   

48  
And this the more confirmed my joy and pride,  
That toward me she showed such love and care,  
By night and daily I was by her side,  
To do or speak against me no man dare,  
I was her stay, I was her houses guide,  
I did command, the rest as subjects are:  
She trusted me, alone with me she talked,  
With me within she sat, without she walked.   

49  
Alas why do I open lay my sore,  
Without all hope of medicine or relief?  
And call to mind the fickle joy before,  
Now being plunged in g●lfes of endless grief?  
For while I thought she ●o●d me more and more,  
When as I deemed my joy and bliss was chief,  
Her waving love away fro me was taken,  
A new guest came, the old was clean forsaken.   

50  
Then did I find full soon, though too to late,  
Her wanton, wavering, wily woman's wit,  
Accustomed in a trice to love and hate,  
I saw another in my seat to sit:  
Her love was gone, foregone my happy state,  
The mark is missed that I was wont to hit:  
And I had perfect knowledge then ere long,  
That to a thousand she had done like wrong.   

51  
And lest that they about the world might go,  
And make her wicked life and falsehood known,  
In divers places she doth them bestow,  
So as abroad they shall not make their moan,  
Some into trees, amid the field that grow,  
Some into beasts, and some into a stone:  
In rocks or rivers she doth hide the rest,  
As to her cruel fancy seemeth best.   

52  
And you that are arrived by steps so strange,  
To this unfortunate and fatal isle,  
Although in youthful sports a while you range,  
And though Alcina favour you a while,  
(Although you little look for any change,)  
Although she friendly seem on you to smile,  
Yet look no les●e, but changed at last to be,  
Into some brutish beast, some stone or tree.   

53  
Thus though perhaps my labour is but lost,  
Yet have ● given you good and plain advise,  
Who can themselves beware by others cost,  
May be accounted well among the wise:  
The waves that my poor ship so sore hath tossed,  
You may avoid by heed and good devise,  
Which if you do, than your success is such,  
As many others could not do so much.   

54  
Rogero did with much attention hear  
Astolfos speech, and by his name he knew  
To Bradamant he was of kindred near,  
Which made him more his woeful state to rue:  
And for her sake that loved him most dear,  
To whom from him all love again was dew,  
He ●ought to bring him aid and some relief,  
At least with comfort to assuage his grief.   

55  
Which having done, he asked him again,  
The way that would to Logistilla guide,  
For were it by the hills, by dale or plain,  
He thither meant forthwith to run or ride.  
Astolfo answered it would ask much pain,  
And many a weary journey he should bide,  
Because to stop this way Alcina sets  
A thousand kinds of hindrances and lets.   

56  
For as the way itself is very steep,  
Not passable without great toil and pain,  
So she that in her mischief doth not sleep,  
Doth make the matter harder to attain,  
By placing men of arms the way to keep,  
Of which she hath full many in her train.  
Rogero gave Astolfo many thanks,  
For giving him this warning of her pranks.   

57  
And leading then the flying horse in hand,  
Not during yet to mount a beast so wild,  
Lest (as before I made you understand)  
He might the second time have been beguiled:  
He means to go to Logistillas' land,  
A vertucus Lady, chaste, discreet and mild,  
And to withstand Alcina tooth and nail,  
That upon him her force might not prevail.   

58  
But well we may commend his good intent,  
Though missing that to which he did aspire, 
●uid● Carest successi●● oped quisquis ab cuen●● facts not●●●● pu●●●.   
Who judgeth of our actions by th'event,  
I wish they long may want their most desire.  
For though Rogero to resist her meant,  
And feared her as children fear the fire,  
Yet was he taken to his hurt and shame, 
Simile. petrarch.   
Even as the fly is taken in the flame.   

59  
For going on his way, behold he spies  
A house more stately than can well be told,  
Whose walls do seem exalted to the skies,  
From top to bottom shining all of gold,  
A sight to ravish any mortal eyes,  
It seemed some Alchemist did make this hold,  
The walls seemed all of gold, but yet I trow  
All is not gold that makes a golden show. 
Sense●●●    

60  
Now though this stately sight did make him stay,  
Yet thinking on the danger him foretold,  
He left the easy and the beaten way,  
That leadeth to this rich and stately hold,  
And to her house where virtue bears the sway,  
He bends his steps with all the hast he could:  
But er● he could ascend the mountains top,  
A crew of caitiffs' sought his way to stop.   

61  
A foul deformed, a brutish cursed crew,  
In body like to antic work dcuised,  
Of monstrous shape, and of an ugly hue,  
Like masking Machachinas all disguised.  
Some look like dogs, and some like apes in view, 
Look in the Allegory.   
Some dreadful look, and some to be despised,  
Young shameless folk, and doting foolish aged,  
Some nakd, some drunk, some bedlam like enraged.   

62  
One rides in haste a horse without a bit,  
Another rides as slow, an ass or cow,  
The third upon a Centauris rump doth sit.  
A fourth would fly with wings, but knows not how,  
The fifth doth for a spear employ a spit,  
sixth blows a blast like one that gelds a sow.  
Some carry ladders, others carry chains,  
Some sit and sleep while others take the pains.   

63  
The Captain of this honourable band,  
With belly swollen, and puffed blubbered face,  
Because for drunkennesle he could not stand,  
Upon a tortoise road a heavy pace:  
His sergeants all were round about at hand,  
Each one to do his office in his place:  
Some wipe the sweat, with faus some make a wind,  
Some stay him up before, and some behind.   

64  
Then one of these that had his feet and breast  
Of manlike shape, but like unto a hound  
In ●ares, in neck, and mouth, and all the rest  
Doth utter barking words with currish sound,  
Part to command, and partly to request  
The valiant knight to leave the higher ground,  
And to repair unto Alcynas' castle,  
Or else (forsooth) they two a pull would wrestle.   

65  
This monster seeing his request denied,  
Strake at Rogeros' beaver with a lance,  
But he that could no such rude jests abide,  
With Ball●sarda smote him in the paunch.  

〈…〉.  Out came the sword a foot on th'other side,  
With which he led his fellows such a dance,  
That some hoped headless, some cut by the knees,  
And some their arms, and some their ears did lose.   

66  
In vain it was their targets to oppose  
Against the edge of his enchanted blade,  
No steel had force to bear those fatal blows,  
Unto the quick the sword a passage made:  
But yet with numbers they do him enclose,  
Their multitude his force did overlade:  
He needs at least Briareus hundred arms  
To ●oile the foes that still about him swarms.   

67  
Had he remembered to unfold the shield,  
Atlanta car●●d at his saddle bow,  
He might have quickly overcome the field,  
And cauld them all without receiving blow,  
Like men dismayed and blind themselves to yield:  
But he perhaps that virtue did not know,  
Or if he did, perhaps he would disdain,  
Where force did fail, by fraud his will to gain.   

68  
But being full resolved not to yield  
Unto such beasts, but ere he parted thence  
He would his carcase leave amid the field,  

Sentence. 〈…〉.  And manfully would die in his defence,  
Then ●o good hap that fails the forward ceil,  
Provided him a mean to rid him hence.  
There came two Lady;, either like a Queen,  
And each of them most stately to be seen.   

69  

Look 〈…〉.  For each of them an Unicorn did ride,  
As white as Lilies, or unmolten snow,  
And each of them was decked with so great pride,  
As might most richly set them forth to show,  
But each of them was so divinely eide,  
Would move a man in love with them to grow,  
And each of them in all points was so choice,  
As in their sight a man would much rejoice.   

70  
Then both of them unto the m●●ow came,  
Whereas R●g●●●●ought with all that rout,  
And both of them those brutish beasts did blame,  
That ●ought to harm a knight so strong and s●ou●.  
R●ger●blu●hing ●blu●hing now with modest shame,  
Thanked them that had of danger holpt him out,  
And strait consented with those Ladies fair,  
Unto 〈◊〉 castle to repair.   

71  
Those ornaments that do set forth the gate,  
Embossed a little bigger than the rest,  
All are enriched with stones of great estate,  
The best and richest growing in the East,  
In parted quadrons, with a seemly rate,  
The collons' diamonds as may be guest:  
I say not whether counterfeit or true,  
But shine they did like diamonds in view.   

72  
About these stately pillars and between  
Are wanton damsels gadding to and fro,  
And as their age, so are their garments green,  
The black ox hath not yet trod on their toe,  
Had virtue with that beauty tempered been,  
It would have made the substance like the show:  
These maids with courteous speech and manners nice  
Welcome Rogero to this paradise.   

73  
If so I may a paradise it name,  
Where love and lust have built their habitation,  
Where time well spent is counted as a shame,  
No wise stayed thought, no care of estimation,  
Nor nought but courting, dancing, play and game,  
Disguised clothes, each day a sundry fashion,  
No virtuous labour doth this people please,  
But nice apparel, belly-cheer and ease.   

74  
Their air is alway temperate and clear,  
And wants both winter's storms, and summer's hea●e,  
As though that April lasted all the year,  
Some one by fountains side doth take his sea●e,  
And there with ●ained voice and careless cheer,  
Some sonnet made of love he doth repeat:  
Some others other where with other fashions,  
Describe unto their loves their loving passions.   

75  
And Cupid then, the captain of the crew,  
Triumphs upon the captives he hath got,  
And more and more his forces to renew,  
Supplies with fresh the arrows he hath short,  
With which he hits (his level is so true)  
And wounds full deep, although it bleedeth not:  
This is the place to which Rogero went,  
And these the things to which our youth is bend.   

76  
Then strait a stately steed of colour bay,  
Well limbed and strong was to Rogero brought,  
And decked with fair capparison most gay,  
With gold and pearl and jewels richly wrought,  
The Griffeth horse (that whilom to obey  
The spur and bit was by Atlanta taught)  
Because his journey long required rest,  
Was carried to a stable to be dressed.   

77  
The Ladies fair that had the knight defended,  
From that same wicked and ungracious band,  
Which as you heard at large before pretended,  
Rogeros' passage stoutly to withstand,  
Told now Rogero how that they intended,  
Because his value great they understand,  
Of him to crave his furtherance and a●d,  
Against their so that made them oft afraid.   

78  
There is (quoth they) a bridge amid our way,  
To which we are already very nigh,  

allegory  Where one Erifila doth all she may,  
To damage and annoy the passers by,  
A Giantess she is, she lives by prey,  
Her fashions are to fight, deceive and lie:  
Her teeth belong, her visage rough with hear,  
Her nails be sharp, and scratching like a Bear.   

79  
The harm is great this monster vile doth do,  
To stop the way that but for her were free,  
She spills and spoils, she cares not what nor who,  
That grief to hear, and pity is to see:  
And for to add more hatred her unto,  
Know this, that all yond monsters you did see,  
Are to this monster either sons or daughters,  
And live like her by robberies and slaughters.   

80  
Rogero thus in courteous sort replied,  
Fair Ladies gladly I accept your motion,  
If oth●rseruice I may do beside,  
You may command, I stand at your devotion:  
For this I wear this coat and blade well tried,  
Not to procure me riches or promotion,  
But to defend from injury and wrong,  
All such as have their enemies too strong.   

81  
The Ladies did Rogero greatly thank,  
As well deserved so stout and brave a knight,  
That proffered at the first request so frank,  
Against the gyantesse for them to fight.  
Now they drew nigh unto the rivers bank,  
When as Erifila came out in sight:  
But they that in this story take some pleasure,  
May hear the rest of it at further leisure.   
In Ariodants combat with his brother, we may note how the love of kindred often gives place to the love of carnality. In Dalindas going into religion, after she had her pardon, we may note, that amendment of life is necessary after true repentance. In Rogeros traveling three thousand miles, and then resting at Alcynas, we may observe how the thoughts of men ranging abroad into a thousand matters, lastly abide in the pleasantest.  
In Astolfos metamorphosis into a myrtle tree (which tree is said to be dedicated to Venus) we may note, how men given over to sensuality, lose in the end the very form of man (which is reason) and so become beasts or stocks: but these two last notes will be more aptly considered in the Allegory.  
History there is none in this book, 
●ie.  but the continuation of the tale of Geneura, amplified probably, though I think no way truly.  
The rest of this whole book is an Allegory, 
●●ri●.  so plain to those that will indeed look heedfully into it, as needs no exposition, and it is continued in the next book, and in a manner there expounded, to the understanding of any reasonable capacity, yet for plainness sake I will touch some things with my accustomed briefness, and leave the rest to the discreet reader to scan, and to apply to his own profit. First therefore of Rogero, (as we have in part touched before) we may understand the Griffeth horse that carried him, to signify the passion of the mind contrary to reason, that carries men in the air, that is in the height of their imaginations, out of Europe, that is, out of the compass of the rules of Christian religion and fear of God, unto the I'll of Alcyna; which signifieth pleasure and vanities of this world.  
The example of Astolfos mishap, and his good counsel which Rogero followed so slenderly, show how neither the counsels of friends, nor no examples, can for the most part stay a man in his youthful course, from that which he shall after surely repent. Rogeros' offering to go to Logestilla, which betokens virtue, signifies the good motives that men have often, by reading good books, or hearing good sermons to amend their lives: but then the monstrous crew that stoppeth Rogero, signifying the base conceits of men, and foul desires that assail them, as namely those sea●en sins which be called the deadly sins: by strong temptations and lewd suggestions, do put us out of that right way, or at least encumber us so as we proceed but slowly: howbeit these do not prevail so far, but that an honest and well given mind doth withstand them, and yieldeth not to them till the two Ladies riding upon Unicorns, which some understand by chaste love, or at the least a show of honourable love, or rather I suppose thereby to be meant ambition and desire of advancement, these two drive away all those base thoughts that assailed him, but yet they bring him at last unto the court of Alcina, where he is held fast, as shall be showed in the next book.  
By Erifila is meant covetousness, as the name itself shows, which must be beaten down ere we can come to honour or love.  
By Logestilla, that is invaded by the two bastard sisters, is meant allegorically, the true Christian religion; and there is another cozen of theirs called heresy, and the grandsire of them all, called Atheism, that are of late very busy with her. But she is defended with the water, which signifies the holy Scripture, and with the mountain, which in the Scripture itself is taken for preachers, as S. Augustine noteth upon the Psalms. I lift up mine eyes to the hills, whence cometh my salvation.  
The transformation of Astolfo, 
●●●  alludes to Cyrces' witchcrast in Homer.   

  

THE SEVENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
When foul Erifila was overcome,  
Rogero guided by two stately dames,  
Unto Alcynas' sumptuous court doth come,  
Where he his time in pleasure spends and games:  
Melissa him rebukes, he standeth dumb,  
And at her true reproofs he greatly shames.  
In fine by her good counsel and direction,  
He frees himself from that most foul subjection.  

1  
ALL they that to far countries do re●ort,  
Shall see strange sights, in earth, in seas, in skies,  

●●●mag●inesse  Which when again at home they shall report,  
Their solemn tales, esteemed are as lies.  

●● to those ●●not ●n●● the al●●●.  For ●●y the fond and simple common sort,  
Believe but what they feel or see with eyes,  
Therefore to them, my tale may seem a fable,  
Whose wits to understand it are not able.   

2  
But careless what the simpl● sots surmise,  
If they shall deem it ● device or deed,  
Yet sure to those that are discreet and wise,  
It will no wonder nor no passion breed:  
Wherefore my tale to such I do devise,  
And with them to the same to take good heed,  
For some there are, may fortune in this book,  
As in a glass their acts and haps to look.   

3  
For many men with hope and show of pleasure,  
Are carried far in foolish fond conceit,  
And waste their precious time, & spend their treasure,  
Before they can discover this deceit.  
O happy they that keep within their measure,  
To turn their course in time, and found retreat,  

〈◊〉.  Before that wit with late repentance taught,  
Were better never had then so dear bought.   

4  
A little while before I did rehearse,  
How that Rogero by two dames was brought,  
To combat with Erifila the feerse,  
Who for to stop the bridge and passage sought  
In vain it were for to declare in verse,  
How sumptuously her armour all was wrought,  
All set with stones, and guilt with Indian gold,  
Both fit for use, and pleasant to behold.   

5  
She mounted was but not upon a steed,  
Instead thereof she on a Wolf doth sit,  
A Wolf whose match Apuli● doth not breed, 
Horace. Qua● po●tentum 〈…〉.   
Well taught to hand, although she used no bit,  
And all of sandy colour was her weed,  
Her arms were thus (for such a champion fit)  
An ugly Toad was painted on her shield,  
With poison swollen, and in a ●able field.   

6  
Now each the other forthwith had descried.  
And each with other then prepared to fight,  
Then each the other scornfully decide,  
Each seeks to hurt the other all he might.  
But she unable his fierce blows to bide,  
Beneath the vizer smitten was so right:  
That from her seat ●ixe pac●s she was heaved,  
And lay like one of life and sense bereaved.   

7  
Rogero ready was to draw his sword.  
To head the monster lying on the sand.  
Until those dames with many a gentle word,  
Assuaged his heat and made him hold his hand:  
He might in honour now her life afford,  
Sith at his mercy wholly she doth stand:  
Wherefore sir knight put up your blade (say th●y)  
Le's pass the bridge and follow on our way.   

8  
The way as yet unpleasant was and ill,  
Among the thorny bushes and between,  
All stony, steep, ascending up the hill,  
A way less pleasant seldom hath been seen:  
But this once past according to their will,  
And they now mounted up upon the green,  
They saw the fairest castle standing by,  
That erst was seen with any mortal eye,   

9  
Al●yna met them at the outer gate,  
And came before the rest a little space,  
And with a countenance full of high estate,  
Salutes Rogero with a goodly grace,  
And all the other courtiers in like rate,  
Do bid Rogero welcome to the place,  
With so great shows of duty and of love,  
As if some god descended from above.   

10  
Not only was this palace for the sight,  
Most goodly, fair, and stately to behold,  
But that the people's curtsy bred delight,  
Which was as great as could with tongue be told.  
All were of youth and beauty shining bright,  
Yet to confirm this thing I dare behold,  
That fair Al●yna past the rest as far,  
As doth the Sun another little star.   

11  
A shape whose like in wax 'twere hard to frame,  
Or to express by skill of painters rare,  
Her hair was long, and yellow to the same,  
As might with wire of beaten gold compare:  

〈…〉  Her lovely cheeks with show of modest shame,  
With roses and with lilies painted are,  
Her forehead fair and full of seemly cheer,  
As smooth as polished ivory doth appear.   

12  
Within two arches of most curious fashion,  
Stand two black eyes, that like two clear suns shined,  
Of steady look, but apt to take compassion,  
Amid which lights, the naked boy and blind,  
Doth cast In's darts that cause so many a passion,  
And leave a sweet and curelesle wound behind:  

〈◊〉 Laudaret pacem 〈◊〉  From thence the nose in such good sort descended,  
As envy knows not how it may be mended.   

13  
conjoined to which in due and comely space,  
Doth stand the mouth stand with Vermilion hue,  
Two rows of precious pearl serve in their place,  
To show and shut, a lip right fair to view:  
Hence come the courteous words, and full of grace,  
That mollify hard hearts and make them new:  
From hence proceed those smile sweet and nice,  
That seem to make an earthly paradise.   

14  
Her breast as milk, her neck as white as snow,  
Her neck was round, most plum and large her breast  
Two ivory apples seemed there to grow,  
Full tender smooth, and fittest to be priest:  
They wave like seas, when winds most calm doth blow,  
But Arg●s self might not discern the rest,  

〈◊〉 Si qua latens 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉.  Yet by presumption well it might be guessed,  
That that which was concealed was the best.   

15  
Her arms due measure of proportion bare,  
Her fair white hand was to be viewed plain,  
The fingers long, the joints so curious are,  
As neither knot appeared nor swelling vain.  
And full to perfect all those features rare,  
The foot that to be seen doth sole remain, 
〈…〉   
Both slender, short, little it was and round,  
A finer foot might no where well be found.   

16  
She had on every side prepared a net,  
If so she walk, or laugh, or sing, or stand:  
Rogero now the counsel doth forget,  
He had received late at Astolfos hand:  
He doth at nought those wholesome precepts set,  
That warned him to shun Alcynas' land,  
He thought no fraud, no treason nor no guile,  
Could be accompanied with so sweet a smile.   

17  
The dame of France, whom he so loved erst,  
He quite forgets, so far awry he swerved:  
The tale Astolfo had to him rehearsed,  
He thinketh false, or else by him desarued:  
Alcynas' goodly shape his heart so pierced,  
She only seemed a mistress to be sarued:  
Ne must you blame Rogeros' inclination,  
But rather blame the force of incantation.   

18  
Now as abroad the stately courts did sound,  
Of trumpets, shagbot, cornets, and of flutes,  
Even so within there wants no pleasing sound,  
Of virginals, of vials and of lutes,  
Upon the which persons not few were found,  
That did record their loves and loving suits,  
And in some song of love and wanton verse,  
Their good or ill successes did rehearse.   

19  
As for the sumptuous and luxurious fare, 
The 〈◊〉 were 〈◊〉 sters, a 〈◊〉, apparem.   
I think not they that Nynus did succeed,  
Nor Cleopatra fair, whose riot rare,  
To Antony such love and loss did breed,  
Might with Alcynas any way compare,  
Whose love did all the others fa●re exceed,  
So deeply was she ravished in the sight,  
Of this so valiant and so comely knight.   

20  
The supper done, and tables ta'en away,  
To purposes and such like toys they went,  
Each one to other secretly to say  
Some word by which some pretty toy is meant,  
This helped the lovers better to bewray  
Each unto another what was their intent,  
For when the word was hither tossed and thither,  
Their last conclusion was to lie together.   

21  
These pretty kinds of amorous sports once ended,  
With torches to his chamber he was brought,  
On him a crew of gallant squires attended,  
That every way to do him honour sought.  
The chambers furniture could not be mended, 
〈…〉   
It seemed Arachne had the hangings wrought,  
A banquet new was made, the which once finished,  
The company by one and one diminished.   

22  
Now was Rogero couched in his bed,  
Between a pair of cambric sheets perfumed,  
And oft he hearkens with his wakeful head,  
For her whose love his heart and soul consumed:  
Each little noise hope of her coming bred,  

●ribus ●vocem ● & ●uenem credi●●.  Which finding false, against himself he fumed,  
And cursed the cause that did him so much wrong,  
To cause Alcyna tarry thence so long.   

23  
Sometime from bed he softly doth arise,  
And look abroad if he might her espy,  
Sometime he with himself doth thus devise,  
Now she is coming, now she draws thus nigh:  
Sometime for very anger out he cries,  
What meaneth she, she doth no faster high?  
Sometimes he casts least any let should be,  
Between his hand and this desired tree.   

24  
But fair Alcyna, when with odours sweet,  
She was perfumed according to her skill,  
The time once come she deemed fit and meet,  
When all the house were now asleep and still:  
With rich embroidered slippers on her feet,  
She goes to give and take of joys her fill,  
To him whom hope and fear so long assailed,  
Till sleep drew on, and hope and fear both, failed.   

25  
Now when Astolfos successor espied  
Those earthly stars, her fair and heavenly eyes,  
As sulphur once inflamed cannot hide,  
Even so the metal in his veins that lies,  
So flamed that in the skin it scant could bide:  
But of a sudden strait he doth arise,  
Leaps out of bed, and her in arms embraced,  
Ne would he stay till she herself unlaced.   

26  
So utterly impatient of all stay,  
That though her mantle was but cyprous light,  
And next upon her smock of lawn it lay.  
Yet so the champion hasted to the fight,  
The mantle with his fury fell away,  
And now the smock remained alone in sight,  
Which smock as plain her beauties all discloses,  
As doth a glass the lilies fair and roses.   

27  

bivious ●on of pleasure ●e offend ● ears ●his of a●ather ● unds have ●es been ●and of  And look how close the ivy doth embrace  
The tree or branch about the which it grows,  
So close the lovers couched in the place,  
Each drawing in the breath the other blows:  
But how great joys they found that little space,  
We well may guess, but none for certain knows:  
Their sport was such, so well they leer their couth,  
That oft they had two tongues within one mouth.   

28  
Now though they keep this close with great regard,  
Yet not so close but some did find the same,  
For though that virtue oft wants due reward,  
Yet seldom vice wants due deserved blame.  
Rogero still was more and more preferred,  
Each one to him with cap and curtsy came,  
For fair Alcyna being now in love,  
Would have him placed the others all above.   

29  
In pleasure here they spend the night and day,  
They change their clothes so often as they lust,  
Within they feast, they dance, dispo●t and play,  
Abroad they hunt, they balk, they ride, they just,  
And so while sensual life doth bear the sway,  
All discipline is trodden in the dust.  
Thus while Rogero here his time mispends,  
He quite forgets his duty and his friends.   

30  
For while Rogero bides in feast and joy,  
King Agramant doth take great care and pain,  
Dame Bradamant doth suffer great annoy,  
And traveled far to find him all in vain:  
She little knew Alcyna did enjoy  
Her due delights, yet doth she moon and plain,  
To think how strangely this same flying horse,  
Bore him away against his will by force.   

31  
In towns, in fields, in hills, in dales she sought,  
In tents, in camps, in lodgings and in caves,  
Oft she enquited, but yet she learned nought,  
She passed the rivers fresh and salted sea waves,  
Among the Turks she leaves him not unsought,  
(Gramercy ring that her from danger saves:)  
A ring whose virtue works a thing scant possible, 
Of this ring look the Table.   
Which holding in her mouth she goes invisible.   

32  
She will not, nor she cannot think him dead,  
For if a man of so great worth should die,  
It would some great report or fame have bred,  
From East unto the West, both far and nigh:  
It cannot sink nor settle in her head,  
Whether he be in seas, in earth or sky,  
Yet still she seeks, and her companions are  
Sorrows and sighs, and fears, and loving care.   

33  
At last she means to turn unto the cave,  
Where lie the great and learned Merlin's bones,  
And at that tomb to cry so loud and rave,  
As shall with pity move the marble stones:  
Nor till she may some certain notice have  
Of her beloved to stay her plaints and moans,  
In hope to bring her purpose to effect,  
By doing as that Prophet should direct.   

34  
Now as her course to poitiers ward she bend,  
Melyssa using wont skill and art,  
Encountered her, her journey to prevent,  
Who knew full well, and did to her impart,  
Both where her love was, and how his time he spent,  
Which grieved the virtuous damsel to the hart,  
That such a knight, so valiant erst and wise,  
Should so be drowned in pleasure and in vice.   

35  
O poisoned hook that lurks in sugared bait,  
O pleasures vain, that in this world are found,  
Which like a subtle thief do lie in wait,  
To swallow man in sink of sin profound:  
O Kings and peers, beware of this deceit,  
And be not in this gulf of pleasure drowned:  
The time will come, and must I tell you all,  
When these your joys shall bitter seem as ga●●.   

36  
Then turn your cloth of gold to clothes of hears,  
Your feasts to fasts, to sorrows turn your songs,  
Your wanton toys and smile into tears,  
To restitution turn your doing wrongs,  
Your fond secureness turn to godly fears,  
And know that vengeance unto God belongs,  
Who when he comes to judge the souls of men,  
It will be late alas to mend it then.   

37  
Then shall the virtuous man shine like the sun,  
Then shall the vicious man repent his pleasure,  
Then one good deed of alms sincerely done,  
Shall be more worth than mines of Indian treasure,  
Then sentence shall be given which none shall shun,  
Then God shall weigh and pay our deeds by measure,  
Unfortunate and thrice accursed they,  
Whom fond delights do make forget that day.   

38  
But to return unto my tale again,  
I say, Melyssa took no little care,  
To draw Rogero by some honest train,  
From this same place of feasts and dainty fare,  
And like a faithful friend refused no pain,  
To set him free from her sweet senseless snare,  

〈…〉  To which his uncle brought him with intent  
His destiny thereby for to prevent.   

39  
As oft we see men are so fond and blind,  
To carry to their sons too much affection,  

Sentence:  That when they seem to love, they are unkind,  
(For they do hate a child that spare correction)  
So did Atlanta, not with evil mind,  
Give to Rogero this so bad direction,  
But of a purpose, thereby to withdraw  
His fatal end that he before foresaw.   

40  
For this he sent him past so many seas,  
Unto the I'll that I before did name,  
Esteeming less his honour then his ease,  
A few years life then everlasting fame.  
For this he caused him so well to please  
Alcyna that same rich lascivious dame;  
That though his time old Nestor's life had finished,  
Yet her affection should not be diminished.   

41  
But good Melyssa on a ground more sure,  
That lou●d his honour better than his weal,  
By sound persuasions means him to procure,  
From pleasure's court to virtues to appeal:  

Simile.  As leeches good that in a desperate cure,  
With steel, with flame, and oft with poison heal,  
Of which although the patient do complain,  
Yet at the last he thanks him for his pain.   

42  
And thus Melyssa promised her aid,  
And help Rogero back again to bring,  
Which much recomforted the noble maid,  
That loved this knight above each earthly thing.  
But for the better doing this (she said)  
It were behoveful that he had her ring,  
Whose virtue was that who so did it wear,  
Should never need the force of charms to fear.   

43  
But Bradamant that would not only spare  
Her ring (to do him good) but eke her hart,  
Commends the ring and him unto her care,  
And so these Ladies take their leave and part.  
Melissa for her journey doth prepare,  
By her well tried skill in Magic art,  
A beast that might supply her present lack,  
That had one red foot and another black.   

44  
Such haste she made, that by the break of day  
She was arrived in Alcynas' I'll,  
But strait she changed her shape and her array,  
That she Rogero better might beguile:  
Her stature tall she makes, her head all grey,  
A long white beard she takes to hide the wile,  
In fine she doth so cunningly dissemble, 
Atlant 〈…〉 uncle 〈◊〉 master.   
That she the old Atlanta doth resemble.   

45  
And in this sort she waiteth till she might  
By fortune find Rogero in fit place,  
Which very seldom happed, for day and night  
He stood so high in fair Alcyna, grace,  
That she could least abide of any wight,  
To have him absent but a minute space,  
At last full early in a morning fair,  
She spied him walk abroad to take the air.   

46  
About his neck a carcanet rich he ware,  
Of precious stones, all set in gold well tried, 
A descript● an effer● courtur.   
His arms that erst all warlike weapons bare,  
In golden bracelets wanton were tie:  
Into his ears two rings conveyed are,  
Of golden wire, at which on either side  
Two Indian pearls in making like two pears,  
Of passing price were pendent at his ears.   

47  
His locks bedewed with waters of sweet savour,  
Stood curled round in order on his head,  
He had such wanton womanish behaviour,  
As though in Valence he had long been bred:  
So changed in speech, in manners and in favour,  
So from himself beyond all reason led,  
By these enchantments of this amorous dame,  
He was himself in nothing but in name.   

48  
Which when the wise and kind Melyssa saw,  
(Resembling still Atlanta's person sage)  
Of whom Rogero always stood in awe,  
Even from his tender youth to elder age,  
She toward him with look austere did draw,  
And with a voice abrupt, as half in rage,  
Is this (quoth she) the guerdon and the gain,  
I find for all my travel and my pain?   

49  
What was't for this that I in youth thee fed,  
With marrow of the Bears and Lions fell?  
That I through caves and deserts have thee led,  
Where serpents of most ugly shape do dwell,  
Where Tigers fierce and cruel Leopards bred,  
And taught thee how their forces all to quell:  
An Atis or Adonis for to be,  
Unto Alcyna as I now thee see.   

50  
Was this foreshewd by those observed stars,  
By figures and nativities oft cast,  
By dreams, by oracles that never arres,  
By those vain arts I studide in time past,  
That thou shouldst prove so rare a man in wars,  
Whose famous deeds to endless praise should last?  
Whose acts should honoured be both far and near,  
And not be matched with such another pear.   

51  
Is this a mean or ready way you trow?  
Which other worthy men have trod before,  
A Caesar or a Scipio to grow,  
And to increase in honour more and more?  
But to the end a man may certain know,  
How thrall thou art unto Alcynas' lore,  
Thou wearest here her chains and slavish bands,  
With which she binds thy warlike arms and hands.   

52  
If thou regard not thine own estimation,  
To which the heavens ordain thee if thou would,  
Defraud not yet thine heirs and generation,  
Of which I have thee oftentime foretold,  
Appointed by eterne predestination,  
Except thou do their due from them withhold,  
Out of thy loins and bowels to proceed  
Such men whose match the world did never breed.   

53  
Let not so many a worthy soul and mind,  
Framed by the wisdom of the heavenly King,  
Be hindered of the bodies them assigned,  
Whose of spring chief must of thy issue spring:  
Be not unto thine own blood so unkind,  
Of whose great triumphs all the world shall ring,  
Whose successors, whose children and posterity,  
Shall help our country to her old prosperity.   

54  
What good hath this great Queen unto thee done,  
But many other queans can do the same?  
What certain gain is by her service won,  
That soon doth fancy, sooner doth defame?  
Wherefore to make thee know what thou hast done,  
That of thy doings thou mayst have some shame,  
But wear this ring, and next time you repair  
To your Alcyna, mark if she be fair.   

55  
Rogero all abashed and mute did stand,  
With silent tongue, and look for shame down cast,  
The good enchantress took him by the hand,  
And on his finger strait the ring she placed,  
But when this ring had made him understand  
His own estate, he was so sore aghast,  
He wished himself half buride under ground,  
Much rather then in such place once be found.   

56  
But she that saw her speech took good effect,  
And that Rogero shamed of his sin,  
She doth her person and her name detect,  
And as herself (not Atlant) doth begin,  
By counsel and advice him to direct,  
To rid himself from this so dangerous gin:  
And gives him perfect notice and instruction,  
How these deceits do bring men to destruction.   

57  
She showed him plainly she was thither sent,  
By Bradamant that loved him in sincerity,  
Who to deliver him from bondage meant,  
Of her that blinded him with false prosperity.  
How she took atlant person to th'intent  
Her countenance might carry more austerity,  
But finding now him home reduced again,  
She saith she will declare the matter plain.   

58  
And unto him forthwith she doth impart,  
How that fair dame that best deserved his love,  
Did send that ring, and would have sent her hart,  
If so her heart his good so far might move,  
The ring this virtue had, it could subvert  
All magic frauds, and make them vain to prove  
Rogero as I said, no time did linger,  
But put the ring upon his little finger.   

59  
When truth appeared, Rogero hated more  
Alcynas' trumpries, and did them detest,  
Then he was late enamoured before,  
(O happy ring that makes the bearer blest)  
Now saw he that he could not see before,  
How with deceits Alcyna had been dressed,  
Her borrowed beauties, all appeared stained,  
The painting gone, nothing but filth remained.   

60  
e'en as a child that taking from the tree  
An apple ripe, and hides it in some place, 
Simi●●.   
When he returns the same again to see,  
After a seven-night or a fortnight's space,  
Doth scant believe it should the same fruit be,  
When rottenness that ripeness doth deface,  
And where before delight in it he took,  
Now scant he bides upon the same to look.   

61  
e'en so Rogero plainly now deseride,  
Alcynas' foul disgraces and enormity,  
Because of this his ring she could not hide,  
By all her paintings any one deformity:  
He saw most plainly that in her did bide,  
Unto her former beauties no conformity,  
But looks so ugly, that from East to West,  
Was not a fouler old misshapen beast.   

62  
Her face was wan, a lean and writhled skin, 
The deformity of pleasure when it is beheld with reason.   
Her stature scant three horseloaves did exceed:  
Her hair was grey of hue, and very thin,  
Her teeth were gone, her gums served in their steed,  
No space was there between her nose and chin,  
Her noisome breath contagion would breed,  
In fine, of her it might have well been said, 
Nestor lived as some retire 300 years.   
In Nestor's youth she was a pretty maid.   

63  
I fear her arts are learned now a days,  
To counterfeit their hair and paint their skin,  
But reasons ring their crafts and guiles bewrays,  
No wise men of their paintings pass a pin, 
Sentence.   
Those virtues that in women merit praise,  
Are sober shows without, chaste thoughts within,  
True faith and due obedience to their make,  
And of their children honest care to take.   

64  
Now though Rogero (as before I said)  
Detested sore the ugly witch's sight,  
Yet by Melyssas' counsel wisely led,  
He doth conceal the matter for a night,  
Till of provision he were better sped,  
With which he might more safely take his flight.  
And taking care his meaning close to hide,  
He doth forthwith his armour all provide.   

65  
And tells Alcyna he would go and try,  
If that he were not waxen gross or no,  
Because that idle he so long did lie,  
And never fought with any armed foe:  
His sword unto his girdle he doth tie,  
With armour on, a walking he doth go,  
And with a scarf about his arm he leapt  
The shield that in the cypress case was wrapped.   

66  
And thus arrayed, he cometh to the stable,  
And took a horse (as wise Melyssa taught)  
A horse as black as any ieat or sable,  
So made as if in wax he had been wrought,  
Most swift for course, and strong of limbs and able,  
This horse height Rabican was thither brought  
By Duke Astolfo, who by sorcery  

Ra●●em, lock the table.  Was turned late into a myrtle tree.   

67  
As for the Griffith horse that there was by,  
Melyssa wisheth him to let him stand,  
And saith, that she herself ere long would try  
To make him gentle to the spur and hand  
And that she would hereafter time espy,  
To bring it him, and let him understand,  
How he should do with very little pain,  
To make him yield to spur, to rod and rain.   

68  
She further said, his flight would be suspected,  
Except he let the flying horse to stay.  
Rogero none of all her words neglected,  
But did her counsel wise and sage obey:  
And so before his meaning was detected,  
From this misshapen hag he stole away,  
And means (if God will grant him so much grace)  
To be at Logestillas' in short space.   

69  
Such men of arms as watched at the gate  
He slew, the rest he suddenly assailed,  
He happy was scaped with a broken pate,  
They took their heels when as their hearts them failed.  
Alcyna now had notice all too late,  
Rogero was so far it nought availed:  
But in another book shall be contained,  
How him dame Logestilla entertained.   
In Erifila that is overthrown by Rogero and not killed, 
Moral.  we may observe, that the liberality that men make great show of in their youthful pleasures and entertainments, is not the true virtue that doth indeed quite extinguish and kill that monster of covetousness. In Alcyna and Rogeros lascivious love, from whom Rogero is glad at last to run away, we may note the notable allurements of fleshly sensuality, and take a good lesson to avoid them only by flying from them, as hath been in part touched before. Melyssas' good counsel, every young Rogero may apply to himself, and learn thereby to begun to Logestillas' in time, lest he be turned into some beast or tree, as these notable enchantresses do daily transform their followers. But of all this I will speak more at large in the Allegory.  
Concerning the History of this book, 
History.  there is no matter historical therein: Only where there is a comparison of the riot of Alcyna with that of the Persian kings, and that of Cleopatra, those to whom the story is not known, shall find an explanation thereof in the Table or Index.  
〈◊〉 before how by Erifila is meant covetousness, 
All 〈◊〉.  which our young gallants beat down but kill not, nay oft it riseth again and overcomes them, and makes them fall to mere rapine and extortion. Whereas in the eight staff, the way was said to be unpleasant (through that seem contrary to the saying of Hercules two ways of vice and virtue) yet no doubt but even in this way of pleasure, there be many ill favoured and dangerous passages, as one of the fathers well 〈◊〉 that a wretched worldling doth oftentimes toil more to go to hell for his labour, than a virtuous man doth to win heaven. The things that allure most to sensuality, are set down in order: in the ninth staff kind entertainment: in the tenth, 〈◊〉 building: in the eleventh and so forward to the sixteenth, artificial behaviour and exquisite beauty, set forth with all cunning, as Ovid saith, Et meruit formosa videri, that is, she deserved with the pain she took to seem hand some: in the eighteenth, music and wanton sonnets of love: riotous fare in the nineteenth, with all kind of delicacies to provoke venery: in the twentieth, wanton discourses and purposes, of which commonly their last conclusion is to lie together, as there is said: in the two and twentieth, perfumes and all effeminate delicacies, in all which we see, the eye, the care, the taste, the smelling, the feeling, the wit, the thoughts, all fed with their objects of delight, making men quite to forget God and all good counsel; as Rogero quite forgot Bradamant and the counsel of Astolfo. And sure it is worth the 〈◊〉 where it is find in the sixteenth staff, that the tale Astolfo late to him rehearsed, he thinketh false or else by him deserved. How young men that at the first have seemed very well given, very religious, continent and studious of all virtue and good learning, yet after when they come to be advanced to high favours or to great living, they despise all that was taught them before, and count religion but a policy, and philosophy but a folly, and the admonition of grave and 〈…〉 that reprove their ambition, or their sensuality, or their extreme covetousness, to proceed but of envy 〈◊〉 begin estate and felicity, which they would be glad to come to themselves and cannot. And surely if any will but take a note of any special persons, touched with any or with all three of these enormous vices, let them but mark if they have not in their whole lives and actions (and some perhaps in plain words) discovered this their contempt of religion and virtue undiscipline: I would this age were barren of examples of this kind.  
Now concerning the enchantments that bring men into this blindness to think Alcyna so fair a woman, it is nothing but 〈◊〉 of virtue, of beauty, of graciousness, that the foolish lover persuades himself that he seeth in the person or idol of his mistress, of which Petrarke saith, Da questi magi transformato fui: These are the witches that transformed me. The grief that Bradamant takes for Rogeros misspending his time, may note to us the grace and long sufferance of God, when man runneth astray after the worldly vanities. Melyssa that offereth her service to go to reclaim Rogero: doth figure unto us both preachers & philosophers, that show us by the ring (which hath been expounded before to be reason) our foul errors and our wandering courses, and so makes us see our own deformities, and the deformity of that we esteemed so dearly, as in this book you see what manner of monster Alcyna appeared in her own likeness, when the ring of reason had dissolved all enchantments. Infinite matter more might be applied in allegorical sense out of this book, if I would covet to stand upon every small matter, for as I said at the first, these two books be in a manner a mere allegory from the beginning to the ending.  
The coming of Melissa to Rogero alludeth to the coming of Mercury to Aeneas in Virgil, 
Allusion.  who was then at Carthage stayed by the love of Dydo as Rogero was here by Alcyna.  
The ring that had the virtue beside dissolving enchantments, to make one go invisible, alludeth to Gyges' ring, of which it is said, that by the help thereof he became King of Lydia.   

  

THE EIGHT BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Rogero fled: Melissa after stayed,  
Astolfo with some others to restore:  
Renaldo musters soldiers sent for aid,  
To Charles' the great, who never needed more:  
Angelica by drowsy hermit laid,  
Is ta'en and bound all naked to the shore:  
Orlando is so troubled with his dream,  
He leaves the service of his king and ream.  

1  
OH strange enchantments used now a days,  
Oh charmers strange among us daily found,  
That find so many charms and subtle ways,  
Wherewith they hold fond lovers hearts fast bound,  
Not with conjured spirits that they raise,  
Nor knowledge of the stars and skill profound,  
But blinding men's conceits, and them fast tying,  
With simulation, fraud, deceit and lying.   

2  
But he that had the rule and ring of reason,  
Should soon their frauds, their crafts and guiles discover,  
And find a hoard of foul and loathsome treason,  
To lurk within the show of such a lover:  
Well may they seem most lovely for a treason,  
When all their wrinkles they with painting cover,  
But unto men of wit and reason learned,  
Their subtleties shall quickly be discerned.   

3  
Rogero (as I said) in secret sort,  
With Ralucan out of the castle went,  
And made the watch and guard unpleasant sport,  
That most of them his coming might repent:  
Some had their arms, and some their heads cut short,  
All put to flight, the gates in pieces rend.  
And then unto the wood he entered, when  
He met by chance one of Alcynas' men.   

4  

〈…〉  This man did bear a falcon on his fist,  
With which he went on hawking day by day,  
To fly in field, or river as he list,  
The country full of game still yielded pray,  
He had a spaniel could not well be missed,  
And eke a hawking nag not very gay,  
And meeting good Rogero half disguised,  
That he was fled away he strait surmised.   

5  
The servant rideth on, and at their meeting,  
He asked Rogero why he road so fast,  
Rogero gave him very slender greeting,  
As though on such a squire he little passed:  
Well (quoth the falconer) though thou now art fleeting,  
I truster long to show thee such a cast,  
That with my dog, my falcon and my horse,  
I do not doubt to fetch thee back by force.   

6  
And first he lets the falcon take her flight,  
But Rabican as fast as she did fly,  
Then from his horse the falconer doth alight,  
His horse slew like an arrow by and by.  
Then went the dog, who was of course so light,  
As is the wind that bloweth in the sky:  
And last of all himself ran with such shift,  
It seemed the lightning's flame was not so swift.   

7  
Rogero thinketh it a foul disgrace,  
That any man should think he fled for fear,  
And more because he now was had in chase:  
Wherefore he doth a while the flight for bear,  
And manfully to them he turns his face,  
And seeing no man but the falconer there.  
And that no weapon in his hand he saw,  
He much disdained on him his sword to draw.   

8  
But strait the dog doth bite his horses heels,  
The hawk his head amazed with her wings.  
When Rabycan such strange foes forces feels,  
He riseth up before, behind he flings:  
Rogero thought the world had run on wheels,  

Rogeros, 〈◊〉  And Balisarda out at once he brings,  
But they, it seemed, so well were seen in fence,  
That all his blows to them brought no offence.   

9  
Both loath to stay, resolved not to yield,  
He takes his target from his saddle bow,  
And with the dazzling light of that same shield,  
Whose force Melyssa lately made him know,  
He made them fall as if their eyes were ceil,  
So that no farther let from them did grow,  
But having vanquished them this wise with ease,  
He now may ride at leisure where he please.   

10  
These foes once foiled, their forces overcome,  
Alcyna strait had notice of his flight,  
For of the watchmen one to her was come,  
That while these things were done did stand in sight.  
This made her stand like one half dead or dumb,  
And after put her into such a fright,  
That forthwith for avoiding further harm,  
Through all the town she made them cry alarm.   

11  
And calling oft herself a foolish beast,  
Because Rogero so from her was slipped,  
Sometime she beats her head, her face and breast,  
Sometime in rage her garments all the ripped:  
She calleth all her men from most to least,  
A part of whom unto the sea she shipped,  
And of the rest she makes a mighty band,  
To fetch Rogero back again by land.   

12  
All were so busy to this service bend,  
That none remained the palace fair to guard,  
Which greatly helped Melyssas' good intent,  
Which chiefly was as you before have hard,  
To set at large poor prisoners so long penned,  
Which now to do (she absent) was not hard,  
Dissolving all her circles and her knots,  
And stroying all her figures and her lots.   

13  
And thus in fields, in houses, and in woods,  
She set at large as many as she found,  
That had been turned, to trees, to stones and floods,  
And in that state by magic art fast bound:  
Likewise to them she rendered all their goods,  
Who when they saw themselves so clear unbound,  
Departing thence with all the hast they might,  
To Logestilia they arriu●d that night.   

14  
And first of all and chief of all the rest,  
The English Duke came to himself again,  
Because Rogero loved and wished him best,  
And lends the ring that makes enchantments vain,  
But good Melyssa could by no means rest,  
Until she could his armour eke regain,  
And that same famous worthy guilded lance,  
That had to him such honour done in France.   

15  
With which Argalia got no little fame,  
Who used oft the same in fight to bear.  
Now when Melyssa to the castle came,  
She found his other armour with the spear,  
And this atcheeued, the sage and friendly dame,  
Mounts on the Griffith horse without all fear,  
And Duke Astolfo mounting on his crupper,  
To Logestillas' came that night to supper.   

16  
Now was Rogero with no small a do,  
Tiring himself amid those craggy ways,  
And striving all that he with pain may do,  
To cut of all those loathsome long delays,  
That hindered him for sooner coming to  
That Lady fair whose virtues merit praise,  
Till near the Southern sea with much pain,  
He came unto a sandy desert plain.   

17  
Here was he plagued with thirst and parching heat,  
And with the sun reflecting on the sand,  
Which from the South upon the bank did beat, 
He follows warter ● staff 33.   
inflaming still the air on either hand,  
But leaving now Rogero in this sweat,  
That still I may not in one matter stand.  
To Scotland now I will return again,  
And of Renaldo talk a word or twain.   

18  
Great was his entertainment and his cheer,  
Made by the king and people of the land,  
Which feasts once done, the worthy valiant pear,  
As was his charge, doth let them understand,  
How Charles the great, whose state doth touch them near  
In no small need of their good aid did stand,  
And how for this he sent him to their nation,  
And to this tale he adds an exhortation.   

19  
Then was it answered him without delay,  
That for king Charles and for the Empire's sake,  
They all were ready to do all they may,  
And would for this behoof short order take,  
And oftred him to show (if he would stay)  
What store of horse and footmen he could make:  
Namely the king himself would be right glad,  
To go in person, but his age forbade.   

20  
Nor yet should age with him so much have done,  
As make him from the battle to abide, 
Zerb●●   
Save that he had a wise and valiant son,  
Well able such a band of men to guide,  
Whose value had already praises won,  
And of his youth was now in flower and pride.  
This noble toward imp he doth intend,  
As captain of his armed men to send.   

21  
Wherefore about his realm forthwith he sent,  
To get of horses and of men good store,  
With ships, and things to war most pertinent,  
As needful meat, and money needful more, 
Sentence   
The while Renaldo into England went,  
The king to Berwick company him bore,  
And men report that when they should depart,  
The king was seen to weep for tender hart.   

22  
Renaldo went with fair and prosperous wind,  

●able com● that for●ations ins● our Terms ● the ride ● so far up ●eur.  And passed along upon the English coast,  
Until he happed the noble Thames to find,  
Of which all London justly make their boast:  
Here he took land as first he had assigned,  
And in twelve hours journey riding post,  
Unto the Prince of Wales he was conducted,  
Whom of these matters fully he instructed.   

23  
The Prince that was Vicegerent to the King,  
(That Oton height) who sojourned now in France,  
From whom Renaldo did commission bring,  
To take up horse, and men, and ordinance.  
When he had once true knowledge of that thing,  
Which of all other he would most advance:  
He marshalled men of arms without delay,  
And points them meet at Calais by a day.   

24  

●lowes it in ● book, ● 62.  But here I must a while from hence digress,  
Lest to one tale my pen should still be bound,  
As good musicans do their skill express,  
By playing on the strings of divers sound:  
While Renald here is cheered with great excess,  
(As ever in the English land is found)  
I mean to tell how that fair Lady sped,  
That twice before from this Renaldo fled.   

25  

●ica.  I told you how Angelica the bright,  
Fled from Renaldo in a thick dark wood,  
How on a hermit there she happed to light,  
And how her sight reviv'd his aged blood:  
But she that took in him but small delight,  
Whose hoary hairs could do her little good,  
With this good hermit made but little stay,  
But turned her horses rains and went away.   

26  
The hermit seeing he contemned was,  
(Whom age long since, and love did newly blind)  
Doth spur a thousand times his silly ass,  
Who still remained more and more behind,  
And sith he saw he could not bring to pass,  
To stop her course (afflicted much in mind)  
In vain he doth his poor ass beat and curse,  
His trot was very bad, his gallop worse.   

27  
And being out of hope of coming nire,  
As having almost lost her horse's track,  
He studies now to compass his desire,  
With some rare strategeme to bring her back:  
Unto that art forthwith he doth retire,  
(That damned art that is surnamed black)  
And by his books of magic he doth make  
A little spirit the Lady overtake.   

28  
And as the hound that men the Tumbler name,  
When he a hare or conie doth espy,  
Doth seem another way his course to frame,  
As though he meant not to approach more nigh,  
But yet he meeteth at the last his game,  
And shaketh it until he make it die;  
So doth the hermit traverse all about,  
At every turn to find the damsel out.   

29  
What he intends to do, full well I wot,  
And mean ere long the same to you to show,  
The damsel traveled still that knew it not,  
The sprite to do his office was not slow,  
For strait within the horse himself he got,  
As she on sands of Gascoigne seas did go,  
The sprite that fully had postest the horse,  
Did drive her to the sea with all his force.   

30  
Which when the fair and fearful damsel saw,  
Although she tried full oft with rod and rain,  
Her palfrey from his dangerous course to draw,  
Yet seeing plainly she did strive in vain,  
With colour changed for anguish and for awe,  
And casting oft her look to land again,  
At last the sitteth still, nor further striveth.  
For needs they must go whom the devil driveth. 
Sentence.    

31  
In vain it was to strike the horse her bare,  
It was not done by that poor palfreys fault,  
Wherefore she tucks her garments, taking care  
Lest they should be bedewed with waters salt,  
Upon her hair, which then all loose she ware,  
The air doth make an amorous assault,  
The greater winds were still, I think of duty,  
That they acknowledge to so rare a beauty.   

32  
The waters more, the land still less she sees,  
At last she saw but one small piece of land,  
And that small piece in small time she doth lose;  
Now sees she neither shore nor any sand.  
Then cold despair all lively hope did freeze,  
When as her horse did turn to the right hand,  
And at the twilight, or not long before,  
Did bring her to a solitary shore.   

33  
Here she remaining helpless and alone,  
Among the fruitless trees and senseless rocks,  
Standing herself all like the marble stone,  
Save that sometime she tore her golden locks,  
At last her eyes to tears, her tongue to moon,  
She doth resolve, her fair soft breast she knocks,  
And blames the God of heaven and power divine,  
That did the fates unto her fall incline.   

34  
O fortune, fortune, (thus the damsel cried)  
Fill now thy rage and execute thine ire,  
And take this life that takest all beside,  
And let my death accomplish thy desire:  
I have and daily do thy force abide,  
Fear still my mind, travel my limbs doth tyre,  
And makes me think in this great storm and strife,  
That death were sweet to shorten such a life.   

35  
Can all thy malice do me further spite?  
Can any state be worse or more unstedy?  
That am from princely sceptre banished quite, 
Caesar put away his wife for suspicion, alleging Non solum à male, said a suspitior● ca●ond●rn.   
A helpless hap and hurt past all remedy,  
And worse than this, mine honour shining bright  
Is stained sore, and e'en defaced already,  
For though in act no ill I ever wrought,  
Yet wandering thus will make men think me nought.   

36  
What can a woman hold of any price,  
If once she lose her honour and good name?  
Alas I hate this beauty and despise,  
And with it never had been of such fame:  
Ne do I for this gift now thank the skies,  
By which my spoil and utter ruin came,  
Which cauld my brother Argal shed his blood,  
Ne could his arms enchanted do him good.   

37  

〈…〉.  For this the king of Tartar Agricane,  
Sought of my father Galafron the spoil,  
Who whilom was in India called great Cane,  
And after died with sorrow of the foil.  
For this I d●yly doubting to be ta'en,  
From place to place do pass with endless toil,  
And now to lose alas what hast thou left me,  
Since same, and goods, and friends are all bereft me?   

38  
If drowning in the sea were not a death  
Severe enough to quench thy raging spite,  
Then send some beast out of this desert heath,  
To tear my limbs and to devour me quite:  
I shall thee thank for stopping of my breath,  
If to torment me thou have no delight.  
These woeful words uttered the Lady bright,  
When strait the hermit came within her fight.   

39  
Who all the while had in a corner stood,  
And heard her make this piteous plaint and moan,  
Proceeding from her sad and mourning mood,  
Enough to move a heart as hard as stone:  
It did the senex fornicator good,  
To think that he was there with her alone,  
Yet ●o devoutly cometh this old carrion,  
As though it had been Paul or Saint Hillarion.   

40  
When as the damsel saw a man appear,  
In such a desert solitary place,  
She strait began to be of better cheer,  
Though fear and dread appear still in her face:  
And with a voice so loud as he might hear,  
She prayed him pity this her woeful case,  
Recounting all her dangers overblown,  
To him to whom they were already known.   

41  
No sooner had the hermit heard her out,  
But strait to comfort her he doth begin,  
And shows by many reasons and devout,  
How all these plagues were sent her for her sin:  
The while he puts his saucy hands about,  
Sometime her breasts, sometime her neck and chin,  
And more and more still gathering heart of grace,  
He offers boldly her for to embrace.   

42  
But she that much disdained this homely fashion,  
Doth stain her cheeks with red for very shame,  
Thrust back his carrion corpses without compassion,  
Reviling him with many a spiteful name,  
Who testy with old age and with new passion,  
That did him now with wrath and love inflame,  
Draws out a bottle of a strange confection,  
That fleepe procureth by a strong infection.   

43  
With this he sprinkleth both the damsels eyes,  
(Those eyes whence Cupid oft his arrows shot)  
Strait sound asleep the goodly damsel lies,  
subjecteth to the will of such a sot:  
Ne yet for aught he did or could devise,  
He could procure his curtal stir a jot,  
Yet oft he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her breast,  
And felt and saw the beauties of the rest.   

44  
The dullerd jade still hangeth down his head,  
Stirring or spurring could not make him prance,  
The sundrier ways he said, the worse he sped,  
His youthful days were done, he could not dance,  
His strength was gone, his courage all was dead,  
His weapon looked like a broken lance:  
And while himself in vain he thus doth cumber,  
He falleth down by her into a slumber.   

45  
But now another evil chance befell,  
(For one ill turn alone is seldom done) 
〈◊〉   
The which to th'end I may the better tell,  
Know this, about the setting of the sun,  
There is an I'll, Ebuda as men tell,  
Whose habitants are well-nigh all undone,  
By means that mighty Proteus thither sent  
An Ork that doth the people tear and rent.   

46  
Within this I'll, as ancient stories tell,  
(I not affirm how false they are or true)  
Sometime a king of mighty power did dwell,  
That had a daughter passing fair of hue,  
The which fair Lady Proteus liked so well,  
When her on sands in walking he did view,  
That though he dwelled in waters salt and cold,  
Yet fresh hot love on him had taken hold.   

47  
Which heat when all the sea could not assuage,  
He thought her milkwarm flesh could only quench,  
And (for he saw she was of lawful age)  
With her consent he forced the princely wench:  
Which sin did set her father in such rage,  
That strait condemning her in open bench:  
Her of her life he publicly bereaved,  
Nor spared the infant in h●r womb conceived.   

48  
This cruel act her lover so inflamed,  
On King and Island he doth wreak his spite,  
He sends that monster that before I named,  
With other beasts to stroy the Island quite:  
These monsters hurt their men, beat, killed and lamed,  
In fine put all the people in such fright,  
That to escape the beast devoid of pity,  
They left their fields, and fled unto their city.   

49  
And though men armed the gates and walls defend,  
Yet they within scant thought themselves secure,  
And sith their harms have neither ease nor end,  
And tired these tedious travels to endure,  
Unto Ap●llos oracle they send,  
To know how they their safety might procure,  
Who after humble suit and sacrifice,  
Answered them of Ebuda in this wise.   

50  
Blood guiltless spilled did breed great Proteus ire,  
Inflamed with love, and fed with beauty rare,  
Blood guiltless must be spilled to quench this fire,  
Till one be found may with the first compare:  
This you must do and if you peace desire,  
To take of damsels those that fairest are,  
And offer one a day upon the shore,  
Till he find one like unto that before.   

51  
This woeful answer breeding much despair,  
And more dislike within their careful hearts,  
To think that every day a damsel fair,  
Must for a prey be given without deserts:  
This is the cause that maketh them repair,  
(To find sufficient store) to sundry parts,  
And get them virgins fair and undefloured,  
Of this most ugly Ork to be devoured.   

52  
Now if this be of Proteus true or not,  
I mean not in defence of it to stand,  
But this is certain so, full well I wot,  
Men use this cruel custom in that land,  
And day by day a maid is drawn by lot,  
And left for prey upon the rock or sand,  
Unto the monster that doth them devour,  
e'en in their prime of youth and tender flower.   

53  
O wretched wights, whom subtle snares have brought  
To this unfortunate and fatal I'll,  
Where damsels fair and handsome out are sought,  
To serve for food unto a monster vile:  
Their pirates bring them home, their vessels fraught  
With such they take by force, or trap with wile,  
With which they fill their prisons and their towers,  
To have them ready at appointed hours.   

54  
Thus sending out their vessels day by day,  
It chanced that one of them with tempest tossed,  
Happed to arrive whereas the hermit lay  
With that fair Lady hard upon the cost:  
Oh cruel chance, oh precious peerless prey,  
Among the pirates either to be lost,  
Or to be carried to the fatal I'll,  
To be devoured of a monster vile.   

55  
That beauty rare that Sacrepant ay deemed  
More dear than living, liberty or life:  
That beauty rare that to Orlando seemed  
Most fit of all the world to be his wife:  
That beauty rare in India so esteemed,  
That bred so many a blow and bloody strife,  
Is now so quite of aid and comfort rest,  
Not one to speak a word for her is left.   

56  
The damsel fair drowned in a deadly sleep,  
Was ta'en and bound before she could awake,  
Also the drowsy friar, to make him keep  
Her company, away with them they take:  
This done, they launched out into the deep,  
And with this precious prey they homeward make,  
Where in a castle they detained her thrall,  
Until to die her luckless lot should fall.   

57  
Yet such great force her passing beauty had.  
Among these barbarous and savage wights,  
That they appeared sorrowful and sad,  
To weigh the danger of her doleful plights,  
It seemed all of them would have been glad,  
To have preserved her many days and nights:  
But such small store of others there remained,  
At last to offer her they were constrained.   

58  
Who can the woes, the tears, the plaints rehearse,  
The lamentations and the mourning sound,  
That seemed the heavens themselves with noise to pierce,  
To rend the rocks, and stir the steady ground?  
Her iu'ry corpse conveyed (as in a hear●e)  
By wailing wights, where they must leave it bound:  
The thought hereof in me such pang doth breed,  
I can no further in this tale proceed.   

59  
Wherefore I must some other matter find,  
Until my Muse her sorrow may assuage,  
For sure no cruel beast were so unkind,  
Nor Tiger in their greatest wrath and rage,  
Nor any cruel tyrant can we find,  
(Although there are good store in every age)  
That could behold or think without compassion,  
A Lady bounden in so vile a fashion.   

60  
Oh had Orlando notice of her smart,  
Who was to Paris gone to seek her out,  
Or those two knights whom late the fiend did part,  
The which for love of her together fought,  
They would for her use all pain, care and art,  
Of death nor danger they would put no doubt: 
He returns to Angelica; 10. b●oke. staff 78.   
But if they help not now, it is no wonder,  
Sith they and she were placed so far asunder.   

61  
Now in this time to Paris siege was laid,  
By famous Agramant Traianos' son,  
Of which at last they grew so sore afraid,  
The town had almost of the Turks been won,  
Had not their vows procured them heavenly aid,  
They had been ruined all and quite undone,  
The force of France had well-nigh then been foiled,  
The holy Empire had almost been spoiled.   

62  
For when that now the city was on fire,  
And when all hope of human help was past,  
Then mighty God forgetting wrath and ire,  
Upon their tears, repentance true, and fast,  
At Charles his humble prayer and desire,  
With help from heaven relieved them at the last,  
And sent such rain to aid the noble Prince,  
As field was seen before, and never since.   

63  
Now lay Orlando on his restless bed,  
And thinks with sleep to rest his troubled spirit,  
But still a thousand thoughts possessed his head,  
Troubling his mind, and sleep expelling quite:  
As circles in a water clear are spread, 
Simil●.   
When sunn● doth shine by day, and moon by night  
Succeeding one another in a rank,  
Till all by one and one do touch the bank.   

64  
So when his mistress entered in his thought,  
(A● lightly she was never thence away)  
The thought of her in him such circles wrought,  
A● kept him waking ever night and day,  
To think how he from India had her brought,  
And that she should thus on the sudden stray,  
No● that he could of her true notice know,  
Since Charles at Burdels had the overthrow.   

65  
The grief hereof did him most nearly touch,  
And caused him often to himself to say,  
What beast would have been overruld so much?  
That when I might have made her with me stay,  
(For why her love and zeal to me was such,  
That in her life she never said me nay)  
Yet I must suffer Namus for to guard her,  
As though myself but little did regard her.   

66  
I s●ould to Charles myself have rather scused,  
And as I did, have kept the damsel still;  
Or if excuses all had been refused,  
I might in stead of reason pleaded will:  
And rather than have been so much abused,  
All tho'e that should resist me slay and kill,  
At least I might have got her safer keeping,  
And not have let her thus be lost with sleeping.   

67  
Where bidest thou, where wanderst thou my dear?  
So young, so lovely, and so fair of ●ew?  

〈◊〉  Even like a lamb when stars do first appear,  
(Her d●me and shepherd being out of view)  
●leateth aloud to make the shepherd hear,  
And in her kind her evil hap doth rue,  
Until the wolf doth find her to her pain,  
The silly shepherd seeking her in vain.   

68  
Where is my love, my joy, my life's delight?  
Wanderst thou still● do not the wolves offend thee?  
Or needst not thou the service of thy knight?  
And keepest thou the flower did so commend thee?  
That flower that me may make a happy wight,  
That flower for which I ever did defend thee,  
That I forbore, to please thy mind (too chaste)  
Is not that flower (alas) now gone and passed?   

69  
O most unfortunate and wretched I,  
If they have ta'en that sweet and precious flower,  
What can I do in such a case but die?  
Yea I would kill myself this present hour,  
I would this world and that to come defy,  
Earth fi●st my coarse and hell my soul devour.  
And this unto himself Orlando said,  
With care and sorrows being overlaid.   

70  
Now was the time when man, and bird, and beast  
Gives to his traveled body due repose,  
When some on beds, and some on boards do rest,  
Sleep making them forget both friends and foes.  
But cares do thee Orlando so molest,  
That scarce thou canst thine eyes a little close,  
And yet that fugitive and little slumber,  
With dreams unpleasant thee doth vex and cumber.   

71  
He dreamt that standing by a pleasant green,  
Upon a bank with fragrant flowers all painted,  
He saw the fairest sight that erst was seen,  
I mean that face with which he was acquainted,  
And those two stars that Cupid fits between,  
Whence came that shaft whose head his heart hath tainted,  
The sight whereof did breed in him that pleasure,  
That he preferred before all worldly treasure.   

72  
He thought himself the fortunatest wight  
That ever was, and eke the blessedst lover:  
But lo a storm destroyed the flowers quite,  
And all the pleasant bank with hail did cover:  
Then suddenly departed his delight,  
Which he remained all hopeless to recover;  
She being of this tempest so afraid,  
That in the wood to save herself she strayed.   

73  
And there (unhappy wretch) against his will,  
He lost his Lady in unlucky hour:  
But her to find again he traveled still,  
Employing to her safety all his power,  
The woods and deserts he with plaints doth fill,  
And cried, alas, turned is my sweet to sour:  
And while these same and such like words he said,  
He thought he heard her voice demanding aid.   

74  
At this same voice (well known) a while he stayed,  
Then followed as the sound him guided most,  
With this mischance his mind was much dismayed,  
His body sore with to●le and travel tossed:  
When strait he heard another voice, that said,  
Now hope no more, for all thy hope is lost.  
And of the sudden waking with the sound,  
His eyes all full of watery tears he found.   

75  
So sore he was affrighted at this vision,  
That e'en as though it had been so indeed,  
And not a fancy vain or apparition,  
Thinking his Lady ●●ood of him in need:  
In secretfo●t he getteth all provision,  
To make repair unto her aid with speed:  
And (for he would not willingly be known)  
He took nor man nor armour of his own.   

76  
His coat of arms, of colour white and red,  
He lest behind for doubt of ill success,  
That if it fortund he but evil sped,  
At least the loss and ●oile should be the less,  
Upon his armour cypress black he spread,  
With colour sad, his sorrow to express.  
And thus disguild in sad and mourning hue,  
He parts, and biddeth not his friends adieu.   

77  
Not of king Charles, whose kinsman he is near,  
Nor taketh he his leave of Brandimart,  
Nor yet to kinsman kind, or friend most dear,  
Doth he his meaning open or impart:  
Nor until day did all abroad appear,  
Was Charles advised that he did depart.  
But in great rage and choler when he knew it,  
He swore and vowed Orlando sore should rue it.   

78  
A● which good Brandimart was greatly grieved,  
As one that deemed it was without de●art,  
And (that his friend by him might be relieved)  
To find him out from thence he strait doth part,  
For by his words, he certainly believed,  
That he could ease his friend Orlando's smart,  

●ledge wife ●naim 〈◊〉.  But this to Fiordeledge he not imparted,  
For fear that she his purpose would have thwarted.   

79  
This Fiordeledge of him was dearly loved,  
A Lady of great beauty and clear fame,  
Of parents good, of manners unreproved,  
Both wealthy, wise, and modest to the same,  
Yet taketh he no leave of his beloved,  
But early in the morning from her came.  
To turn that night was his determination,  
But was deceived of his expectation.   

80  
And when she waited had a month or more,  
Expecting his return, and all in vain,  
For love of him she was inflamed so sore,  
Alone she goes to find him out again,  
And many sorry haps she bid therefore,  
As in the story, shallbe showed plain,  
For of Orlando now I have to say,  
That is of more importance then both they,   

81  
Who having changed the arms he late did we are,  
Directly to the City gate he went,  
And told the Sentnell, softly in his ear,  
What was his name, and what was his intent:  
Who strait abast the bridge, without all fear,  
(Supposing sure his uncle had him sent:)  
And strait upon the Pagan camp he lighted,  
As in the book ensuing is recited.   
In the hard adventures of Angelica, 
●al.  we may note how perilous a thing beauty is if it be not especially guarded with the grace of God, and with virtue of the mind, being continually assailed with enemies spiritual and temporal: In Orlando's dream we may see how unquiet thoughts are bred in the minds of those that are given over to the passion of love or ambition, or whatsoever else may be understood by Angelica. Lastly in that Orlando abandons his Prince and country in their greatest extremity, we may observe the uncomely and careless acts that dishonest or unordinat love do provoke even the noblest unto, if once they get harbour in their minds, and be not overruled with reason and grace.  
In this book is little historical matter, 
●orie.  save of the distress of the Parisians, of which I will not greatly stand more than that I said before it is not improbable that they were about that time assailed by the Turk: 〈◊〉 for other matters that be here lightly touched, as the devotion of Paul or Hylarion, the sable of Proteus or such like, the table shall set it down more plain.  
The former Allegory is here continued of Rogeros flying from Alcyna, by which must still be understood, 
●gorie.  a man reforming his course of life, and flying from sensuality and pleasure●: now whereas it is said in this book that Alcynas' man or her falconer with his horse hawk and dog did impeach Rogeros' passage, I take it that by these four are meant the four passions that most trouble the mind when it begins to incline to virtue, namely by the servant fear may be understood, which is ever servile and base, by the hawk covetousness that is ever seeking new prey and is never satisfied: by the dog grief and discontentment that is alway biting and envying and grieving at others well doing: by the horse is understood inordinatioy, which is in another kind an enemy to virtue and constancy, for as soon is a temperate and moderate mind discovered in prosperity as in adversity, and (as Tully saith) a wise man is neither Aduersis rebus oppreslus nec elatus secundis: to which effect I remember a verse of my fathers, written to an Earl many years since.  
Such one is ware by what degrees he climes,  
Rather pleasant then proud in high estate,  
Rather bold then abashed in lowering times,  
And can in both so well uphold his state,  
As many would, but few can do or none,  
Of which few sort, I wish your Lordship one.  
But to proceed in the Allegory, these impediments that disturb men in their good course, are all but like owls or bats driven away with sun shine: for the light of understanding and the shining of true worthiness, or (as M. Dyer in an excellent verse of his termeth it) the light that shines in worthiness, dissolveth and disperseth these dusty impediments, that let a man in his journey to Logestillas' Court, that is, to the court of virtue, of temperance, of piety, where all good lessons are taught, as shallbe showed more plain in that part of this book, where Rogero comes to Logestilla  
By Melyssa that recovers from Alcyna Astolfos armour and the Lancia d'oro or Goldelaunce, and likewise restores Astolfo to his former state and shape by virtue of the ring, in the absence of Alcyna, by her (I say) we may understand some grave and ghostly counsellor, that with strong reasons and godly persuasions, having driven away for the time, a man's sinful thoughts and desires, takes occasion utterly to extinguish them and deliver a man from them with the same reasons, and to draw him to virtue and Religion. Alcynas' forces she prepares by sea and by land, signify the means our ghostly enemies use to bring us back again to our old vices (like the dog to his vomit) by land she follows him, and after by sea she encounters him, which briefly shows, that the remembrance of passed pleasures make a man often in peril to be drawn back as it were by land●, and then by sea (as a place of terror and danger) we are assailed with grievous adversities, as without special succour we should be quite cast away.  
Rogeros' hard travel, stony ways, and afterward the sweat and drought he abode, signify Allegorically the unpleasantness of the change of evil life to an austere course of living, which after notwithstanding is most exceeding comfortable and delightsome.  
The bawd●●rier that by his impotency more than his honesty saved Angelica's maidenhead, 
●usion.  is alluded by my author (as some have supposed) to some such Prelate in Italy of his acquaintance, and but for good manners sake might be alluded to some that have been so illuded by such good men that notwithstanding they might sue their writ of dotage yet will still be as forward as the youngest in that service. 
●d. amorum  Atque jacent pigro crimen onu●que toro.  
Angellicas' horse that carried her into the sea, Alludes to the bull that bore Europa such another voyage.   

  

THE NINTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Orlando hastes his journey when he hears,  
What costly food Proteus his Ork allows,  
But by the way moved with Olimpias tears,  
That did lament her late captived spouse,  
His hasty journey be a while forbears,  
To wreak her wrong upon her foe he vows,  
Which done, no longer in the place he tarries:  
Byreno false the fair Olympi● marries.  

1  
ALas what damage cannot Cupid bring  
A noble hart once thralled to his lore?  
That makes Orlando careless of his king,  
To whom of late most faithful love he bore.  
Who erst so gave & wise in every thing,  
And of the church a champion was before,  

〈◊〉 of un●●ue.  Now that in loves blind paths, he learns to plod,  
Forgets himself, his country and his God.   

2  
Feign would I him disburden of this blame,  
Glad in my faults a fellow such to find,  

●he per rodea: ●ehora ●deteriora  For to my good I feel me dull and lame,  
But prompt to ill, and swifter than the wind:  
He not be thinking him how great a shame,  
It was to leave his helpless friends behind,  
Went where the kings of Africa and of Spain,  
Didly in field encamped with all their train.   

3  
Yet not encamped I can them call, for why  
They lay abroad dispersed with the rain,  
Some twenty, ten, or eight together lie,  
Or six, or five, or four, or three, or twain:  
Some farther off, and some are lodged nigh,  
All wean with their former taken pain:  
He might have killed of them a worthy crew,  
Ne yet is Durindana once he drew.   

4  

〈◊〉  The cause was this, so noble was his mind,  
To murder men asleep he thought it base,  
He lets them rest, and seeks his love to find,  
By every person, and in every place,  
And those he meets, with words and speeches kind,  
(Describing her apparel and her face)  
He prays of all good fellowship to shoe,  
Or where she is, or whither she did go.   

5  
When light apporcht, and day began to break,  
By day he seeks her in the host of Turks,  
His passions strong, do make his reason weak  
Yield to the fit that in his fancy works.  
Some help it was, he could their language speak,  
By which the safer he among them lurks:  
His words, his weeds, so like to theirs were seen,  
As though that bred in Tripoli he had been.   

6  
But when he saw his staying was for nought,  
At three days end away from thence he flung,  
He left no town of France and Spain unsought,  
Ne yet this pain could aught assuage that pang:  
Him Autumn first this wandering humour brought,  
When fruits do fade, his fruitless love first sprang,  
And lasted still his force and rage renewing,  
Both all the spring and summer next ensuing.   

7  
Now having traveled as his custom was,  
From realm to realm, he came upon a day,  
Where as the river clear sometime as glass,  
That twixt the Britan's and the Normans lay,  
Was grown so high as now he could not pass,  
The snow and rain had borne so great a sway,  
By force whereof the bridge was overthrwowne,  
The passage stopped, the fords were overflown.   

8  
And looking round about the shore at large,  
Devising how to pass to th' other side,  
He saw a little way from thence a barge,  
That seemed toward him the course to guide,  
Of which a certain damsel had the charge,  
To whom with voice aloud Orlando cried,  
Entreating her because his haste was great,  
Within the barge him to afford a seat.   

9  
The maid affirmed no price the barge could hire,  
And to command it he had no commission,  
But promised she would grant him his desire,  
Upon a certain covenant and condition;  
Which was to undertake by sword and fire,  
For to destroy an Isle, without remission,  
A cruel I'll, Ebuda called by name,  
The wickedest place where ever creature came.   

10  
For know (quoth she) beyond the Irish land,  
There lies among the rest this graceless I'll,  
That yearly sends of wicked wights a band,  
To rob, to spoil, to fraud and to beguile:  
All women kind that happen in their hand,  
They give for food unto a monster vile,  

Lock in the end o● this book in the Allegory.  A monster vile that useth every day,  
To have a maid or woman for his prey.   

11  
Of merchants and of pirates that do come,  
They get them store, and of the fairest most:  
Now guess by one a day how great a some,  
Of women kind within this I'll are lost.  
If then of love you ever tasted cromme,  
Make one within the king of Ireland's host,  
That make them ready shortly to proceed,  
To take a fair revenge of this foul deed.   

12  
No sooner had Orlando heard her out,  
But vowed to be as forward as the first,  
To join himself with that same worthy rout,  

Sent 〈…〉.  And now (for love doth ever cast the worst)  
Within himself begins to cast this doubt,  
Lest that this wicked monster and accursed,  
Had got his Lady for a dainty bit,  
Because he heard no news of her a● yet.   

13  
And this conceit his mind so much possessed,  
And in his heart made such a deep impression,  

Sentence. A 〈…〉.  (For both in nature he did still detest  
All such as unto others do oppression)  
And much he feared his love among the rest,  
Might fall into the monsters vile possession,  
That strait he shipped, and by their due account,  
Within three days he past saint Michel's mount.   

14  
But having passed now the milk white sand,  
Of which the Isle of Albion takes his name,  
The wind that in the South before did stand,  
With ●o great fury to the Northwest came,  
In vain it was against the same to stand,  
And therefore to retire it was no shame,  
Back in one night the tempest drove them more  
Than they had sailed three days and nights before.   

15  
For when they saw it was no boot to strive  
Against the fury of so fierce a wind,  
They went even as the weather did them drive  
Until the stream of Antwerp they did find,  
Where they to land with safety did arrive:  
There lo, an aged man with years half blind, 
Here 〈◊〉 tale of 〈◊〉.   
Who deemed Orlando of that crew the chief,  
To this effect uttered to him his grief.   

16  
How that a certain dame of noble blood,  
Of virtue very great, of beauty rare,  
Of sober cheer and of behaviour good,  
(Though now oppressed with misery and care)  
Requested him, except his haste withstood,  
That she to him a matter might declare,  
In which to ask his wise advice she meant,  
To which Orlando quickly did consent.   

17  
The Lady's palace stood within the land,  
To which the Earl conducted was with speed,  
Where at the entry did the Lady stand,  
In mourning show, and sorrowful in deed,  
Who brought Orlando sadly by the hand,  
Into a chamber hanged with mournful weed,  
First him by her to sit she doth beseech,  
And then in rueful sort she used this speech.   

18  
First (worthy knight) I would you understood,  
I was the Earl of Holland's daughter dear,  
Who was to me so tender and so good,  
That though my brothers both were him as near,  
Yet my desire in nothing he withstood,  
Nor spoke the word that I was loath to hear:  
Thus whiles in state most steady I did stand,  
A certain Duke arrived in this land.   

19  
The Duke of Zealand and his arrant was,  
To Bisky there against the moors to fight,  
His age and beauty that did others pass,  
Moved me that had not tafted loves delight,  
Nor armed against his darts with steel or brass,  
To yield myself his prisoner without fight,  
Believing then as still I do and shall,  
That he to me doth carry love not small.   

20  
For while the winds contrary here him stay,  
Though nought for his, yet excellent for my drift,  
What time me seemed each week was but a day,  
The pleasant hours did slide away so swift,  
We kept ourselves together day by day,  
Till at the last we made us so good shift,  
That ere we parted we had so procured,  
Each was to other man and wise assured.   

21  
Byreno was from hence but newly gone,  
(So is my dear beloved husband's name)  
But that a great Ambassador anon:  
Directly ●om the king of Friesland came,  
To treat a certain marriage upon  
With other of that nation of good fame,  
That to my Sire from Holland did repair,  
That I might marry with his son and hair.   

22  
But I in whom faith took so deep a root,  
I could not change my new made choice and though  
I would, to strive with love it was no boot,  
That wounded me so lately with his bow,  
To stop the motions newly set on foot,  
Before they might to farther matter grow:  
I would not go, I flatly told my father,  
That I to die a thousand deaths had rather.   

23  
My loving sire that chiefest care did take,  
That all he did might me his daughter please,  
Agreeing to my will, and for my sake,  
My grief so new conceived to appease,  
Straightway the motion of this marriage broke,  
Which did so sore the Friesland king displease,  
He made sharp wars on Holland in short space,  
By force whereof he ruined all my race.   

24  
For first he is of limbs and body strong,  
To meet his enemies in open field,  
And then so politic in doing wrong,  
He makes their force unto his fraud to yield:  
He hath his other weapons strange among,  
A weapon strange, before this seen but ceil,  
A trunk of iron hollow made within,  
And there he puts powder and pellet in.   

25  

〈◊〉 def●of an ●h, being ●ing not 〈◊〉 be●mpis  All closed save a little hole behind,  
Whereat no sooner taken is the flame,  
The bullet flies with such a furious wind,  
As though from clouds a bolt of thunder came.  
And whatsoever in the way it find,  
It burns, it breaks, it tears and spoils the same.  

〈◊〉 the end ●eke in 〈◊〉.  No doubt some fiend of hell or devilish wight,  
Devised it to do mankind a spite.   

26  
And thus with this device and many other,  
In open field our battles twice he broke,  
And first in fight he slew mine elder brother,  
(The bullet through his curate way did make)  
And next in flight he took and killed the tother,  
Which caused my father's aged heart to quake,  
Who notwithstanding stoutly did intend,  
His honour and my safety to defend.   

27  
But in a hold that only now was left him,  
They him besieged that all the rest had won,  
And by sharp battle all the rest had rest him,  
Where to a loup one leveled so a gun,  
The blow thereof of life and sense bereft him,  
So swift it came as none the same may shun.  
A weapon vile, wherewith a foolish boy  
May worthy captains mischief and annoy.   

28  
Thus was my father and my brothers slain,  
Before this furious king his war would cease,  
And I sole heir of Holland did remain,  
Which made his former fancy more increase:  
He thinks by match with me my land to gain,  
And offered to my people rest and peace,  
If I Arbante marry would his son,  
Which I before refused to have done.   

29  
And I (as well for hatred I did bear,  
Most just to him and all his generation,  
By whom my fire and brothers killed were,  
By whom was spoiled and robbed all our nation,  
As that to break my promise I did fear,  
Which I Byreno made with protestation,  
That howsoever fortune's wheel should turn,  
Yet none should marry me till his return)   

30  
Made answer this, that if for every ill  
I now abide I should have thousands more,  
Though they my corpses with cruel torments kill,  
I would not break my promise given before.  
My countrymen persuade me change this will,  
First praying me, then threatening me full sore,  
Except I do, to yield me and my land  
(Desired prey) into mine enemy's hand.   

31  
But finding still their threats and prayers vain,  
And still that in my former mind I stayed,  
Me and my country by a privy train,  
Unto the king of Friesland they betrayed;  
Who thinking now with flat●●ie me to gain,  
First bid me not to fear or be dismayed,  
〈◊〉 ●red free to give me lands and life,  
〈◊〉 would be his son Arbantes wife.   

32  
Then I that see myself enforced so,  
Although I meant that death should set me free,  
Yet loath as unrevenged hence to go,  
On those that had so greatly injured me:  
Did muse on many means to help my woe,  
At last I thought dissembling best to be,  
Wherefore I feigned that I was relented,  
And that to have his son I was contented.   

33  
Among some servants that my father had,  
Two brethren strong and hardy I did choose,  
Most apt to do what ever I them bad,  
And for my sake no danger to refuse,  
For each of them was brought up of a lad  
Within our house, I did their service use  
In war and peace, and found their faiths as great,  
As were their hearts to any hardy feat.   

34  
To these two men I open made my mind,  
They promised me their service and their aid,  
One into Flanders went a bark to find,  
The tother with myself in Holland stayed:  
Now was our day for marriage assigned,  
When flying news the strangers made afraid,  
With many sails Byreno was reported,  
Into these parts newly to have resorted.   

35  
For when the first conflict and broil was fought,  
Wherein my brother cruelly was slain,  
I strait by letters with Byreno wrought,  
To make all speed to succour us from Spain.  
But while provision for each thing was sought,  
The Friesland king got all that did remain,  
Byreno hearing not what late was past,  
Conducts his navy hither in great haste.   

36  
The Fris●land king that heard of his repair,  
D●th leave the marriage for his eldest son,  
And to the sea he goes with navy fair,  
They meet, they fight the king of Friesland won,  
And to expel all comfort with despair,  
〈◊〉 prisoner ta'en, I quite undone,  
Abroad Byreno captive like was carried,  
At home unto his en'my I was married.   

37  
But when he thought in arms me to embrace,  
And have that due that wives their husbands owe,  
My servant standing in a secret place,  
Which I to him did for this purpose show,  
Affords him to his sport but little space,  
And with a Pole-axe strake him such a blow,  
That staggering strait, and making little strife,  
He left his love, his living and his life.   

38  
And thus this youth borne in unhappy hour,  
Came to his death as he deserved well,  
In spite of all his sire Cym●seas power,  
Whose tyranme all others did excel:  
Whose sword my sire and brothers did devour,  
And from my native soil did me expel,  
And meant to enter upon all my lands,  
While I by marridge should be in their hands.   

39  
But when we once performed had this deed,  
And taken things of greatest price away,  
Before that any noise or tumult breed,  
Out of the window we denied a way:  
And packing thence with all expedient speed,  
We came to sea before the break of day,  
Where as my servant waited with a barge,  
As he before received of me in charge.   

40  
I know not if 〈◊〉 took more grief,  
Or wrath or 〈◊〉 kindled in his mind,  
To 〈◊〉 his torn that lay past all relief,  
To find a● thing of value left behind,  
Then when his pride and glory should be chief,  
Then when to make a triumph he assigned,  
And hoping all were at a wedding glad,  
He finds them all as at a burial sad.   

41  
His hate of me and pity of his son,  

Sentence Horaece 〈…〉.  Torment him night and day with endless grief:  
But sith by tears no good the dead is done,  
And sharp revenge assuageth malice cheese,  
From doleful tears to rage he strait doth run,  
And seeks of all his sorrow this relief.  
To get me in his hands with subtle trains,  
Then me to kill with torments and with pains.   

42  
Those of my friends or servants he could find,  
Or that to me did any way retain,  
He all destroyed and left not one behind,  
Some hanged, some burned, and some with torment slain,  
To kill 〈◊〉 once he had assigned,  
O purpose only to procure my pain,  
But that he thought his life would be a net,  
The sooner me into his hands to get.   

43  
Wherefore he set a hard and cruel law,  
Except Byreno could in twelve months' space,  
Find means by fraud or forces me to draw,  
To yield myself a prisoner in his place,  
(Such Princes are that have of God no awe)  
Then die he should without all hope of grace:  
So that to save his life, my death alone  
Must be the means, for other can be none.   

44  
All that by pain or cost procure I could,  
With diligence I have already done,  
Six castles fair in Flanders I have sold,  
The money spent, and yet no profit won,  
I sought to bribe those that him kept in hold,  
But they my craft with greater craft did shun:  
I also moved our neighbours near and far,  
English and Dutch on him to make sharp war.   

45  
But those I sent when they long time had stayed,  
I think they would not, or they could not speed:  
They brought me many words, but little aid,  
My store decreased, but greater grew my need:  
And now (the thought whereof makes me afraid)  
That time draws nigh, when neither force nor meed,  
As soon as full expired is the year,  
From cruel death can safe preserve my dear.   

46  
For him my father and his sons were slain,  
For him my state and living all is lost,  
For him those little goods that did remain,  
I have consumed to my great care and cost,  
For him with heart's disease and body's pain,  
With troublous waves of fortune I am tossed,  
Now last of all I must lay down my life,  
To save my spouse from blow of bloody knife.   

47  
And finding that my fortune is so bad,  
I must to save his life lay down mine own,  
To lose mine own I shall be feign and glad,  
Where sorrow springs of seeds that love had sown;  
This only fear and doubt doth make me sad,  
Because I know not how it may be known,  
If I shall sure release Byrenos bands,  
By yielding me into the tyrant's hands.   

48  
I fear when he hath shut me in this cage,  
If all the torments I shall then endure,  
His fury to Byreno may assuage,  
Whose liberty I study to procure:  
I rather fear least following his rage,  
When he shall find he hath us both so sure,  
He will not care his oath and vow to break,  
Upon us both at once his wrath to wreak.   

49  
Behold the cause why I did long so sore  
To speak with you, demanding your advice,  
As I have oft of others done before.  
Yet found I none so hardy nor so wise,  
That would assure his freedom to restore,  
Whose love doth me to hate myself entice,  
The cause no doubt is this, they stand in fear  
Of those his guns, whose force no steel can bear.   

50  
But if your virtue do not disagree,  
With this your comely shape and manly show,  
Let me request you sir to go with me,  
Where I myself in prison shall bestow,  
And promise me to set Byreno free,  
If so the tyrant from his promise go.  
For I shall die with great content and joy,  
If by my death Byreno scape annoy.   

51  
Her doleful tale the damsel here did end,  

agne of ●ourage 〈◊〉 words  Which oft was interrupted with her tears:  
Orlando loving not the time to spend  
In idle talk, all answers long forbears,  
But in his mind he fully doth intend  
To foil her foes and rid her of her fears,  
He briefly said, that she should him command,  
To do much more than she did him demand.   

52  
He means not though that she herself should yield  
Unto the cruel tyrant as a pledge,  
Except his sword (that failed him but ceil)  
Had on the sudden lost his force and edge,  
He means (like common birders in the field)  
To catch the birds and never hurt the hedge,  
And thus resolved to do this worthy deed,  
From Flanders now by sea they go with speed.   

53  
The skilful Pilot doth the vessel steer,  
Sometime on th'one, sometime on th'other side,  
The Isles of Zealand some before appear,  
And some behind as fast themselves do hide,  
And strait to Holland they approached near,  
Orlando went to land, but bids her bide:  
His meaning is that she shall understand,  
The tyrant's death before she come on land.   

54  
Himself forthwith was mounted on a steed,  
A dark brown bay, with white star in his face,  
Both large and strongly limbed (like Flemish breed)  
But not so full of life nor swift of pace,  
Yet good enough to serve him at his need,  
When as his Briliador was not in place:  
And thus he came to Dordreck, where he found  
With men of arms the gates environed round.   

55  
The ways, the walls, with armed men watched were,  

●stos ●asis  For tyrants still are most of such condition,  
(And chiefly new) that ay they stand in fear,  
And further now some news had bred suspicion,  
How that an army great approached near,  
Well stored with men, and stuffed with munition,  
The which they said Byrenos cousin brought,  
By force his kinsman's freedom to have wrought.   

56  
Orlando wils a watchman carry word  
Unto their King, how that a wandering knight  
Desires to prove his force with spear and sword,  
Whom if the King could overcome in fight,  
Then he should have the Lady by accord,  
That slew Arbante on his wedding night:  
For he had taken her into protection,  
And could deliver her to his subjection.   

57  
But craved eke the King should bounden be,  
By promise firm (if he were overcome)  
To let his prisoner (called Byreno free,  
And of his message this was all the sum:  
And this was told unto the King, but he  
That of true virtue never tasted crumb,  
Bend all his will and wit against all reason,  
To falsehood foul, to false deceit and treason.   

58  
He makes account if he this knight can stay,  
The which to do he means great means to make,  
That then the Lady quickly get he may,  
And make him yield her for his safety sake:  
He sendeth thirty men a privy way,  
Him to enclose about and prisoner take,  
Who fetching compass to avoid suspicion,  
At last arrived where they had commission.   

59  
In this mean time with words he foded out,  
The worthy Earl, until he saw his men,  
According as he bade them come about,  
Enclosing all the way behind, and then  
Out of the gates he rusheth with a rout,  
Of men on horse and foot of three times ten, 
Simile.   
As hunters do enclose the beasts in woods,  
Or fishers do enclose the fish in floods.   

60  
So doth the king Cymosco care and strive,  
To stop the ways with all foresight and heed,  
And meaneth sure to have him ta'en alive,  
And thinks the same is such an easy deed,  
That of those guns with which he did deprive  
So many lives, he thinks there is no need,  
For such a weapon serveth very ill,  
Where he did mean to take and not to kill.   

61  
As cunning fowlers do the birds reserve, 
Simile.   
That first they take in hope of greater prey,  
And makes them for a bait and stale to serve,  
To take the rest by sport and pretty play,  
So means the king alive him to preserve,  
But unto this Orlando's force said nay:  
He means not to be handled in that sort,  
But breaks the nets and marreth all the sport.   

62  
The noble Earl with couched spear in hand,  
Doth ride where as he finds the thickest press,  
Two, three and four, that in his way did stand,  
The spear doth pierce, nor at the fifth doth cease,  
It passed the sixth the brodenesse of a hand,  
Nor that same handbredth maketh any peace,  
The seventh so great a blow therewith he strake,  
That down he fell and never after spoke.   

63  
e'en as a boy that shoots abroad for sport, 
Simile.   
And finds some frogs that in a ditch have bred,  
Doth prick them with an arrow in such sort,  
One after one until such store be dead,  
As that for more his shaft may seem too short,  
From feathers filled already to the head,  
So with his spear Orlando him besturd,  
And that once left, he draweth out his sword.   

64  
That sword that never yet was drawn in vain,  
Against whose edge doth armour little boot,  
At cu'ry thrust or blow he gave was slain,  
A man on horse, or else a man on foot.  
The edge whereof with crimson still doth stain,  
And where it lights it pierceth to the root.  
The Fri●eland king reputes him now too late,  
That he for hast his guns behind forgot.   

65  
With voice aloud, and many a boisterous threat,  
He bids them bring his gun, but none doth hear,  
Who once within the gate his foot can get,  
He dare not once peep out again for fear:  
But when he saw none by his words did set,  
And that almost they all departed were,  
He thought it best to save himself by flight,  
From ●o great force of this same furious knight.   

66  
He back retires, ne draws the bridge for haste,  
Because Orlando now approached so nigh,  
And had not then his horse him sped fast,  
As though he did not run but rather fly,  
Orlando would have made him sore aghast,  
Who caring not to make the poor sort die,  
Past by the rest and kept the King in chase,  
That saved himself by his good horses pace.   

67  
But yet ere long again he doth return,  
And brings with him his iron cane and fire,  
Wherewith he doth beat down, and bruise and burn  
All those whom he to mischief doth desire:  
He hopes this weapon well shall serve his turn,  
Yet for all this he means to come no nire,  

S●mil●.  But like a hunter privily doth watch,  
Where he the heedless beast may safest catch.   

68  
The King with this his engine lieth in wait,  
A weapon tearing trees and rending rocks,  
Whose force no fence can ward with any sleight,  
It gives so sound and unexpected knocks:  
Thus having lain at little at receipt,  
And watched his vantage like a crafty fox,  
When once the Earl within his reach he spied,  
He setteth fire unto his pieces side.   

69  
Strait like a lamp of lightning out it flies,  
And sendeth forth withal so great a sound,  
As seemed to shake the everlasting skies,  
And to remove the unremoved ground,  
The shot 'gainst which no armour can suffice,  
But breaketh all that in the way is found,  
Doth whiz, and sing, and kindles as it went,  
Yet did not that effect the tyrant ment.   

70  
For whether 'twere his overhasty speed,  
And too great will to hurt did make him swerver,  
Or whether fear possessed him in the deed,  
That not to guide his hand his heart could serve,  
Or whether God of mercy mere and meed,  
Was pleased his champion longer to preserve:  
It only strake the horse with so great pain,  
That down he ●ell and never role again.   

71  
The horse and horseman down together fell,  
down lay the horse, up quickly ro●e the knight,  
And on his feet was strait recovered well,  
More earnestly bend then before to fight,  
And as the stories of Antheus tell,  
In whom each fall increased more his might: 
〈…〉   
So though Orlando with his fall was troubled,  
His force and fury seemed to be doubled.   

72  
But when the king of Frizland plainly saw,  
How this bold knight grew fiercer than before,  
He thought it best by flight himself withdraw,  
His fainting heart with fear was pierced so sore:  
A side he turns the horses foaming jaw,  
Now full resolved to prove his force no more,  
Orlando with such speed doth him pursue,  
As doth an arrow from a bow of You.   

73  
And what he could not riding erst achieve,  
He doth the same and more upon his feet,  
And runs so swift as few men would believe,  
Except themselves had present been to see it,  
Until at last so hard he him did drive,  
He overtook him in a narrow street,  
And with his sword he cloven his head in twain,  
The senseless corpses doth on the ground remain.   

74  
Now as Orlando did this feat contrive,  
There grew new broils from thence a little distance,  
For then Byrenos cousin did arrive,  
With men on horse and foot for his assistance,  
And finding none that durst against him strive,  
He entered had the gates without resistance,  
So late a fear was in the people bred,  
That none of them durst come to make a head.   

75  
The silly Burghers knew not what to say,  
Nor who these were, nor what was their desire,  
Until the Zelanders themselves bewray,  
Both by their speech and manner of attire:  
Then made they peace, and promised them straightway,  
To do what ere the captain should require,  
Against the men of Fri●eland them to aid,  
Who yet in prison still Byreno stayed.   

76  
For why that people always had in hate,  
The king of Fri●eland and his men of war,  
Their Duke's late death, and altering their estate,  
Had moved their minds, but that that all did mar,  
Was overtaxing them is such a rate,  
As always breeds a great dislike and jar.  
Orlando twixt these men made such conclusion, 
〈◊〉   
As turned unto the Friesland men's confusion.   

77  
For strait to ground they threw the prison gate,  
They fetch the prisoners out without a key,  
Byreno to the Earl is not ungrate,  
With thanks a part of his due debt to pay:  
And then they go to show Byrenos state,  
To fair Olympia, that at anchor lay,  
For so the call they Lady chaste and fair,  
That of that country was undoubted hair.   

78  
She that was thither by Orlando brought,  
Without all hope of any such success,  
Who lately (silly creature) only sought,  
Her death might bring her lover from distress:  
Now was her safety and Byrenos wrought,  
When she supposed and looked for nothing less:  
The joy cannot with many words be told,  
Wherewith the tone the tother did behold.   

79  
The people do the damsel fair restore,  
Unto the state that unto her was due:  
But she that vowed herself for evermore,  
To be unto Byreno lover true,  
Persisting now as faithful as before,  
Nor fearing any harm that might ensue,  
Doth grant to him for love and mere affection  
Of her and her estate the full protection.   

80  
Byreno leaves his cousin in his place,  
To guide that country with sufficient guard,  
His loving wife in Zealand he will place,  
That done, with forces march to Friesland ward:  
And hopes to conquer it in little space,  
If that his fortune were not over hard,  
And that which most assured him of this thing,  
He had in hold the daughter of their king.   

81  
Whom he did mean to marry (as men say)  
Unto a younger brother of his name:  
Orlando shipped himself that present day,  
Byreno with him to his shipping came,  
And offered him a large part of the pray,  
Because his value chiefly won the same,  
Who nothing took but that same engine rare,  
Which we before to lightning did compare.   

82  
Ne took he this away because he meant,  
To prove the force thereof upon his foe,  
Or use the same when he to battle went,  
His courage would not suffer him do so:  
To hurl away the same was his intent,  
Where it mankind might never damage more:  
He lets nor powder nor the shot remain,  
Nor aught that did unto the same pertain.   

83  
And when that now the shelves and shallow shore,  
Some twenty leagues or there about was left,  
No land discerned behind nor yet before,  
Upon the right hand or upon the left,  
Because (said he) hereafter never more,  
May any knight of life and limb be rest  
By thee, or coward vaunt him with the stout,  
Lie there allow until I fetch thee out.   

84  
O cursed device found out by seem foul fend,  
And framed below by Belzebub in hell,  
Who by thy mean did purpose and intend,  
To ruin all that on the earth do dwell,  
From whence thou camest, I thither thee do s●nd:  
(This said) the piece unto the bottom fell:  
Orlando maketh all the speed he may,  
Himself unto Ebuda to convey.   

85  
I say the noble Earl in haste him hide,  
Unto that cruel I'll to find that wight,  
Whom he more loved then all the world beside,  
On whom his thoughts were running day & night,  
Nor would he by the way one whit abide,  
Lest of new stay might new occasion light,  
And cause him when he had his purpose mist,  
To cry with late repentance, had I wist.   

86  
His course he means of neither side to bend,  
Nor South nor North, such hast he means to make,  
But goes as that blind archer doth him send,  
That deep with dart of golden head him strake.  
And here a while to leave him I intent, 
He returns to Orlando in the xij. book st. 25.   
Returning to the match of which I spoke:  
For you may think I lost it in the carriage,  
If you should hear no more news of the marriage.   

87  
Great feasts were made in Holland, and great sport,  
Because of this new match and copulation;  
But greater shall in Zealand by report,  
For which there was great care and preparation:  
Yet would I not you thither should resort,  
Except you knew Byrenos inclination,  
For chances fell that spoilt all the cheer,  
As in the book ensuing you shall hear.   
In Orlando that at the first motion entertained the enterprise of Ebuda, we may learn to be prone and ready to a● honourable exploits: In his coming to succour the distressed Olympia, we may note how God sends unexpected relief to the honest afflicted: In Olympia we may see a rare mirror of constancy, which I doubt too few of her sex will imitate. By Cymoscos' tyranny and death, all Princes may take a warning, that no engines nor stratagems can keep a tyrant safe in his estate, but only clemency and bounty, that to lawful Princes breeds evermore love and loyalty in the subject.  
Concerning the invention of guns, he seemeth to insinuate that they have been invented long before the time that our writers speak of in Germany, which was about Richard the second his time: Virgil hath a verse in the sixth of the Aeneadoes, that sounds much to this effect, and myself have wondered at it many times, to see how plainly it expresseth the quality of a piece of ordinance. He tells that one Sallomoneus a Giant had an engine of war with which he imitated jupiter's thunder & lightning & surely this he would not have feigned, but that he heard of some such thing: the verse is this. Dum flammas iovis & sonitus imitatur Olympi. Some of our far traveled men tell us that they of China h●d use of pieces some thousands of years, which I could be willing to credit, save that they also tell of the records there si●ce before Adam's creation many years.  
Allegory I find none but of the I'll of Ebuda where women be given to monsters to be devoured, of which I will speak in another of the Cantos that follows of that matter.  
In the monstrous effects of gunnepowder he alludes perhaps to that huge damage done at Venice where their Arsenal or storehouse was blown up: as a like mishap though not so terrible, happened in the Tower my grandfather Sir john Markham being then Lieutevant of the Tower.   

  

THE TENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Wicked Byreno falls in love of new,  
And in an I'll his kind Olympia leaves:  
Rogero bids Alcynas' realm adieu,  
But Logestilla gently him receues:  
She shows him how to rule the horse that flew:  
He flying in the air, from thence perceives  
Renaldoes musters: after which he found  
Angelica unto the rock fast bound.  

1  
AMong the mirrors rare of loyal love,  
That present are, or have been in time past,  
Whose faith no force of fortune could remove  
With fawning cheer, nor yet with frowning blast:  
Olympia fair all others far above,  
By just desert requireth to be placed:  
Whose steadfast love (to say I dare be bold)  
Doth pass the patterns of the new or old.   

2  
How could she signs more evident impart,  
Unto Byreno of her loving mind?  
No, though she should have open laid he hart,  
Yet could she not have proved herself more kind:  
And if such love and duty, by desert  
May look of due like love again to find,  
Her faith requires unto Byreno shown,  
That he should seek her safety as his own.   

3  
Nor only not to leave her in annoy,  
Or her reject for any other dame,  
No not for her that bred the bale of Troy,  
Or any other of more worthy name,  
But her prefer before all worldly joy,  
Before his senses five, before his fame,  
Or any other thing of greater price,  
To be expressed by word or by device.   

4  
Now if Byreno did her well requite,  
If that he showed to her the like good will,  
If he regarded as he ought of right,  
To bend unto her liking all his skill,  
Nay if forgetting all her merits quite,  
Ungrate, unkind, he sought her life to spill:  
Behold I shall a tale to you recite,  
Would make a man his lip for anger bite. 
Sentence    

5  
And when that I shall have declared plain  
His cruelty, her loves unkind reward,  
I think you Ladies never will again  
Believe men's words, your hearts will wax so hard;  
For 
* Catull. Nil matuunt jurare nihil promittere parcunt. Ovid: jupiter ex alto periuria redet amantum. Tibullus-Veneris perturia vents irrita per terras & freta summa ferunt. Callimachus: juravit quidem, sed amatoria iuramenta deorum non subeunt aures.  lovers loved Ladies loves to gain,  
Do promise, vow and swear without regard,  
That God doth see and know their falsehood still,  
And can and shall revenge it at his will.   

6  
Their oaths but words, their words are all but wind,  
Uttered in haste, and with like haste forgotten,  
With which their faiths they do as firmly bind,  
As bundles are trust up with cords all rotten:  
Coyness is nought, but worse to be too kind,  
Men care not for the good that soon is gotten: 
Sentence.   
But women of their wits may justly boast,  
That are made wiser by an others cost. 
Sentence: Foelix quem sacrunt aliena pericula cautum. Ovid: Flammaque de stipula nostra brevisque fuit. Ovid: Venator sequitur fugientia capta relinquit.    

7  
Wherefore I wish you lovely dames beware,  
These beardless youths, whose faces shine so neat,  
Whose fancies soon like straw fire kindled are,  
And sooner quenched amid their flaming heat:  
The hunter chaseth still the flying hare,  
By hill by dale with labour and with sweat,  
But when at last the wished prey is taken,  
They seek new game, the old is quite forsaken. 
Simile.    

8  
Even so these youths, the while you say them nay,  
In humble sort they seek, they serve,  
They like, they love, they honour and obey,  
They wait, they watch your favours to deserve:  

Ovid: 〈…〉  A part they plain, in presence oft they pray,  
For lo●e of you they mourn, they pine and starve:  
But having got that erst they sought so sore,  
They turn their sails unto another shore.   

9  
Though this be true, I not persuade you tho,  
To leave to love, for that were open wrong,  
To cause you like a vine undressed to grow,  
Vncared for the brites and thorns among:  
But least on youths you should yourselves bestow,  
That never in one fancy tarry long;  

Sentence.  The mean is best, young fruits the stomach gripe,  
The elder cloy when they be over ripe.   

10  
I showed you in the tale I told you last,  
How that Byreno had Cymoscos' daughter,  
To marry whom a motion late was past,  
Because his brother loved and greatly sought her,  
But his own mouth was of too liquorish taste,  
To leave so sweet a morsel, having caught her:  
He thought it were a point of foolish kindness,  
To part withal, a piece of so rare fineness.   

11  
The damsel l●ttle passed fourteen year,  
Most tender, sweet and lovely, fresh and fair,  

Simile.  As when the budding rose doth first appear,  
When sunny beams in May make temprate air,  
〈◊〉 likes her face, her sober cheer,  
And used to her to make to oft repair,  
That e'en a● Brimstone quickly taketh flame, 
Simile.   
So 〈◊〉 took him to his perpetual shame.   

12  
The stream of tears that for her sire she shed,  
A flaming furnace bred within his breast,  
The 〈◊〉 she made, and doleful words she said,  
Doth breed his hope of getting his request,  
Thus soul desires with hopes as foul are fed,  

Simile.  As water hot from boiling strait doth rest,  
When liquor cold is powered in the pot,  
So with new love his old was quite forgot.   

13  
From flow to ebb thus turned was the tide,  
His late beloved Olympia loathsome grew,  
To look on her his heart could scant abide,  
His thoughts were all so settled on the new,  
Yet till the time might serve he thinks to hide,  
His filthy hate with fair and painted hue,  
And though in fancy he did her detest,  
Yet still great kindness he in show professed.   

14  

Ovid: Hit amor 〈◊〉. Of 〈◊〉  And if he showed the other signs of love,  
(Although such love was worse than any hate)  
Yet none there was herein did him reprove,  
But took his meaning in another rate,  
They though some good remorse his mind did move,  
In gracious sort to pity her estate,  
And that to her he charitably meant,  
Because she was so young and innocent.   

15  
O mighty God, how much are men mista'en? 
Ovid 〈◊〉 Met● Que● 〈◊〉 ca ● ipso sce● mens To● ditur ●   
How oft with feigned shows they are deceived?  
Byrenos wicked meaning and profane,  
For good and godly was of men received:  
The mariners their oars in hand had ta'en,  
And from the shore the ship was quickly heaved,  
To Zealand ward the Duke with all his train,  
With help of oars and sails doth pass amain.   

16  
Now had they lost the sight of Holland shore,  
And marched with gentle gale in comely rank,  
And (for the wind was westerly) they bore  
To come within the lieu of Scottish bank,  
When as a sudden tempest rose so sore,  
The force thereof their ships had well nigh sank,  
Three days they bore it out, the fourth at night  
A barren Island happened in their sight.   

17  
Here fair Olympia from her ship to sand,  
From sands he passeth to the higher ground,  
Byreno kindly led her by the hand,  
(Although his heart another harbour sound)  
They sup in their pavilion pitched on land,  
Environed with a tent about them round:  
The supper done, to bed do go they twain,  
The rest unto their ships return again.   

18  
The travel great she lately did endure,  
And had three days before her waking kept,  
And being now upon the shore secure,  
(Now glad of that for which ere long she wept)  
And taking her amid his arms secure,  
All this did cause that she the sounder slept,  
(Ah silly soul) when she was least afraid,  
Of her fall husband thus to be betrayed.   

19  
The treacherous Byreno, whom deceit  
And though of lewd intent doth waking keep,  
Now having time for which he long did wait,  
Supposing fair Olympia sound ●leepe,  
Unto his ships he hies with short retreat,  
And makes them all launch forth into the deep;  
And thus with wicked practice and unjust,  
He her forsook that chiefly him did trust.   

20  
Now were the sails well charged with the wind,  
And bear him lighter than the wind away,  
The poor Olympia now was left behind,  
Who never waked till that break of day,  
To lightsomness had changed the darkness blind,  
And sunny beams had driven the mist away,  
She stretched her arms between a sleep and wake,  
And thinks Byreno in her arms to take.   

21  
She findeth none, and drawing back again,  
Again she reached them out, but findeth none,  
Her leg likewise she reached out in vain,  
In vain for he for whom she feels is gone,  
Fear sleep expels, her eyes she opens plain,  
Nor yet she hears, she sees, nor feels not one,  
With which amazed, the clothes away she cast,  
And to the shore she runneth in great haste.   

22  
With heart dismayed, and seeing her before  
Her fatal hap, unto the sea she hies,  
She smote her breast, her hair she rend and tore,  
Now looking (for all lightsome were the skies)  
If ought she could discern, but even the shore;  
But even the shore, no other thing she spies:  
Then once or twice she called Byrenos name,  
Then once or twice the caves resound the same.   

23  
And boldly then she mounted on the rocks,  
All rough and steep, such courage sorrow brought,  
Her woeful words might move the stones and stocks,  
But when she saw, or at the least she thought,  
She saw the ships, her guiltless breast she knocks,  
By signs and cries to bring them back she sought,  
But signs and cries but little now avails,  
That wind bore them away that filled their sails.   

24  
What meanest thou (thus poor Olympia spoke)  
So cruelly without me to depart?  
Bend back thy course, and cease such speed to make,  
Thy vessel of her lading lacks a part:  
It little is the carcase poor to take,  
Since that it doth already bear the hart:  
Thus having by the shore cried long in vain,  
Unto the tent she back returns again.   

25  
And lying groveling on her restless bed,  
Moistening the same with water of her eyes,  
Sith two on thee did couch last night (she said)  
Why did not two from thee together rise?  
Accursed the womb that false Byreno bred,  
Accursed the day that first I saw the skies:  
What shall I do? what can I here alone,  
Or who (woe me) can mitigate my moan?   

26  
I see no man, nor any sign I see,  
That any man within this I'll doth dwell:  
I see no ship that hence may carry me,  
With (at the least) some hope of being well:  
I here shall starve, it cannot other be,  
And buried how to be I cannot tell;  
Ah how if wolves that wander in this wood,  
Devour my flesh, or drink my guiltless blood?   

27  
Alas I doubt, and stand e'en now in fear,  
Lest that some ravenous wolf that here abides,  
Some Lion, Tiger, or some ugly Bear,  
With teeth and claws shall pierce my tender sides,  
Yet what beast could with greater torment tear,  
Then thou more fierce than any beast besides?  
For they contented are but once to kill,  
But thou my life a thousand times dost spill.   

28  
But presuppose some vessel here arrive,  
And take me from this place for pity sake,  
And so perchance I may be left alive,  
The Bears nor Lions never shall me take,  
Yet will it be in vain for me to strive,  
Again to Holland my repair to make:  
Thou keep'st by force the place where I was borne,  
Whence by deceit thou brings me (false forsworn)   

29  
Thou tookst from me my living, by pretence  
And colour of thy friendship and alliance,  
Thy men of arms were paid by my expense,  
I gave thee all, such was my fond affiance.  
Or shall I turn to Flanders? sith from thence  
I sold myself, and am at flat defiance  
With all the nation, whom to set thee free,  
I quite forsook, that now ah woe is me?   

30  
Is there for me in Friesland any place?  
Where I refused for thee to be a Queen,  
The which refusal ruined all my race,  
As by the sequel was too plainly seen?  
O cruel hap, ò strange and monstrous case,  
The righteous God judge thee and me between,  
Was ever Tiger carried heart so hard,  
For so firm love to pay so foul reward?   

31  
But what and if some pirate wanting fear  
Of God and man, shall take me as a slave?  
Thou God forbid, let Tiger, Wolf and Bear,  
First carry me a prey into their cave,  
And there my flesh in pieces all to tear,  
That dying, I my chastity may save.  
This said, her raging grief her hands addresses,  
To offer force unto her golden tresses.   

32  
And even as Hecuba fell raging mad, 
Similes   
With grief of mind and sorrow sore oppressed,  
To see her Polydorus little lad,  
By kinsman's fraud and cruelty distressed:  
So raved Olympia fair, as though she had  
With twenty thousand devils been possessed:  
At last she sitteth on the rocks alone,  
And seems as senseless as the senseless stone. 
He follows this of Olympia where Orlando found her naked in Ebuda, book xi, staff 43. Rogero.    

33  
And in this state I mean to let her stay,  
Till of Rogero I have talked a while,  
Who traveled in the hot and sandy way,  
Full many weary and unpleasant mile:  
And now it was the middle of the day,  
When as upon the South side of the I'll,  
He saw three Ladies near a little tower,  
Did sport themselves within a pleasant bower.   

34  
These Ladies fair were of Alcynas' crew,  
And there refreshed themselves a little space,  
They had great store of wines both old and new,  
And sundry kind of junkets in like case:  
A pretty bark there lay within their view,  
That did attend their pleasures in the place,  
And wait when any little gale should blow,  
(For now was none) that they might homeward go.   

35  
Then one of these that had espied the knight,  
At such a time, and in such way to ride,  
With courteous speech invites him to alight:  
The second brings him wine on th'other side,  
And makes him far more thirsty with the sight,  
But these enticements could not cause him bid●,  
He fears Alcyna prisoner so might take him,  
If by this stay she happed to overtake him,   

36  

Simile.  Even as salt peeter mixed with brimstone pure,  
〈◊〉 strait when once it feels the fire,  

Simile.  Or as the sea with winds and air obscure,  
Doth we ●● and swell, and ever riseth hire;  
So they that law their words could not allure,  
H● noble mind to follow their desire,  
took high disdain that they were so contemned,  
And him of great discourtesy condemned.   

37  
And strait the third as in a raging mood  

〈…〉  Said thus, O creature void of all gentility,  
And borne (no doubt) of base unworthy blood,  
And bred where never used was civility,  
Ay during life fro thee depart all good,  
Nor ma●st thou die in quiet and tranquility,  
But burned ma●st thou be, or cut in quarters,  
Or driven to hang thyself in thine own garters.   

38  
With these and many bitter speeches more,  
They rail on him, and then they take their bark,  
And c●ast along upon the Southern shore,  
That they his passage and his course might mark.  
But he that now was gotten far before,  
Did little to their threats or curses hark:  
And notwithstanding all that they contrived,  
Yet to his ship in safety he arrived.   

39  
The Pilot doth Rogero much commend,  
That from Alcyna so himself did save,  
And as a wise and well experienced friend,  
Sound counsel and good precepts him he gave,  
And wished that he his time would better spend,  
And leave fond toys, embracing wise doom grave,  
And from the good the evil to discern,  
As I 〈◊〉 used men to learn.   

40  
There is the food that fills and never cloyeth,  
There is the love, the beauty and the grace,  
That maketh him most blest that them enjoyeth,  
To which compared, all either joys are base:  
There hope, nor fear, nor care the mind annoyeth,  
Respect of persons, nor regard of place:  
The mind still finding perfect contentation,  
That rests itself in virtuous contemplation.   

41  
There are (said he) some better lessons taught,  
Then dance, dallyings or dainty diet,  
There shall you learn to frame your mind & thought  
From will to wit, to temperance from riet:  
There is the path by which you may be brought  
Into the perfect paradise of quiet.  
This tale the Pilot to Rogero told.  
And all the while their course they forward hold.   

42  
But 〈◊〉 they see a navy under sail,  
Of ships that toward them in haste did bend,  
〈◊〉 wrathful striving tooth and nail.  
Doth think to fetch again her fleeting friend:  
But all her diligence could not avail,  
〈◊〉 to return doth not intend,  
And of her forces he was not afraid,  
Because that I 〈◊〉 sent him aid.   

43  
For strait a watchman standing in a tower,  
So high that all the hills and shore was under,  
Did ring the alarm bell that present hour,  
He saw her fleet, though distant far asunder:  
And when that now approached was their power,  
With cannon shot they made them such a thunder,  
That though Alcyna threatened much and braved,  
Yet was Rogero from her malice saved.   

44  
Then at his first arrival to the shore,  
Four damsels met him sent by Logestilla,  
Andronica that wisely sees before,  
And Fronesis the just, and chaste Drusilla,  
And she that boldly fights for virtues lore,  
Descending from the Roman race Camilla:  
And strait rushed out of men a worthy band,  
Ay priest to meet their foes on sea and land.   

45  
Within a large and very quiet bay,  
A navy was of vessels big and tall,  
That ready at an hours warning lay,  
To go to fight at any little call:  
And now there was begun a great affray,  
By land and sea the conflict was not small,  
Which did the realm in hurly burly set,  
Alcyna late did from her sister get.   

46  
'tis strange to see of wars the strange success,  
She that of late was counted of such might,  
Is now so driven in danger and distress,  
That scant she could preserve herself by flight,  
Rogeros parting brought her grief no less,  
Then did the foil, which both bred such despite,  
And such despair, to die she had intended,  
(If so she might) to have her torments ended.   

47  
And as herself the dame of Carthage killed,  
When as the Trojan Duke did her forsake:  
Or as her blood the Queen of Egypt spilled,  
For that so famous Roman captains sake:  
Even to Alcyna with like sorrows filled,  
Wished of herself with like death end to make,  
But (either ancient folk believed a lie,  
Or this is true) a fairy cannot die.   

48  
But leave we now Alcyna in this pain, 
Fleers Alcyna   
That from her elder sister fled apace,  
And to Rogero let us turn again,  
That was conducted to a better place,  
Where finding now that he did safe remain,  
He thanked God that gave him so much grace,  
To see his foes of forces all deprived,  
Himself within the castle safe arrived.   

49  
And such a castle that in starely show  
And costly substance others all surmounted,  
The value of the walls can no man know,  
Except he first upon the same had mounted:  
Men have not jewels of such price below, 
The 〈◊〉 gestilles ●   
For diamonds are to these but dross accounted,  
And Pearls but pelse, and Rubies all are rotten,  
Where stones of such rare virtue can be gotten.   

50  
These walls are built of stones of so great price,  
All other unto these come far behind:  
In these men see the virtue and the vice,  
That cleaveth to the inward soul and mind.  

●Palsus ●at, & ●famia ●uem? ●sum ●cem.  Who looks in such a glass, may grow so wise,  
As neither flattering praises shall him blind  
With tickling words, nor undeserved blame,  
With forged faults shall work him any shame.   

51  
From hence doth come the everlasting light,  
That may with Phoebus' beams so clear compare,  
That when the Sun is down there is no night,  
With those that of these jewels stored are:  
These gems do teach us to discern aright,  
These gems are wrought with workmanship so rare,  

●teriam ● opus.  That hard it were to make true estimation,  
Which is more worth the substance or the fashion.   

52  
On arches raised of porphyry passing high,  
So hie that to ascend them seemed a pain,  
Were gardens fair and pleasant to the eye,  
Few found so fair below upon a plain:  
Sweet smelling trees in order standing by,  
With fountains watering them in steed of rain,  
Which do the same so naturally nourish,  
As all the year both flowers and fruits do flourish.   

53  
No weeds or fruitless trees are in this place,  
But herbs whose virtues are of highest price,  
As sovereign sage, and thrift, and herb of grace,  
And time, which well bestowed maketh wise,  
And lowly patience, proud thoughts to abase,  
And hearts ease, that can never grow with vice.  
These are the herbs that in this garden grew,  
Whose virtues do their beauties still renew.   

54  
The Lady of the castle greatly joyed,  
To see the safe arrival of this knight,  
And all her care and travel she employed,  
That honour might be done him in her sight.  
Altolfo (in his passage less annoyed,  
Doth take in his acquaintance great delight,  
And all the other his good favour sought,  
That by Melyssa to themselves were brought.   

55  
Now having all themselves some days reposed  
In Logestillas' house, and taken rest,  
And finding all themselves right well disposed,  
To make return again into the West,  
The good Melyssa for them all proposed,  
Unto the mighty Lady this request,  
That by her leave without incurring blame,  
They might return them all from whence they came.   

56  
To whom dame Logestilla thus replied,  
That after they a day or two had stayed,  
She would for them most carefully provide,  
For all their journey furniture and aid:  
And first she taught Rogero how to ride  
The flying horse (of whom he was afraid)  
To make him pace or pass a full career,  
As readily as other horses here.   

57  
When all was ready now for him to part,  
Rogero bids this worthy dame farewell,  
Whom all his life time after from his hart  
He highly honoured and loved well.  
First I will show how well he played his part,  
Then of the English Duke I mean to tell,  
How in more time and with far greater pain,  
He did return to Charles his court again.   

58  
Rogero mounted on the winged steed,  
Which he had learned obedient now to make,  
Doth deem it were a brave and noble deed,  
About the world his voyage home to take.  
Forthwith beginneth Eastward to proceed,  
And though the thing were much to undertake,  
Yet hope of praise makes men no travel shun, 
Sentence.   
To say another day, we this have done.   

59  
And leaving first the Indian river Tana,  
He guides his journey to the great Catay,  
From thence he passeth unto Mangiana,  
And came within the fight of huge Quinsay;  
Upon the right hand leaving Sericana,  
And turning from the Scythians away,  
Where Asia from Europa first doth draw,  
Pomeria, Russia, Prutina he saw.   

60  
His horse that hath the use of wings and feet,  
Did help with greater haste home to retire,  
And though with speed to turn he thought it meet,  
Because his Bradamant did so desire,  
Yet having now of travel felt the sweet, 
Sentence:   
(Most sweet to those to knowledge that aspire)  
When Germany and Hungry he had past,  
He means to visit 
* Artosto calls v● ultima Ingleterra the uttermost countriy. So in time passed he old * Romances wrote. Et penitus toto divisos orl● Brigannos.  England at the last.   

61  
Where in a meadow on a morning fair,  
Fast by the Thames at London he did light,  
Delighted with the water and the air,  
And that fair city standing in his sight,  
When strait he saw that soldiers did repair,  
To muster there, and ask of a knight,  
That in the meadow he had met by chance,  
He understood that they were bound for France.   

62  
These be the succours (thus the knight him told)  
Renaldo sued for at his coming hither,  
With Irish men and Scots of courage bold,  
To join in hearts and hands and purse together.  
The musters ta'en and each man's name enrolled,  
Their only stay is but for wind and wether,  
But as they pass I mean to you to show them,  
Their names and arms, that you may better know them.   

63  
You see the standard that so great doth show, 
Ariosto doth but rove at th●se noble men's names, and if any of us should write of the noble men of that time, we should do the like.   
That joins the Leopard and the Flouredeluce,  
That chiefest is, the rest do come below,  
And reverence this according to our use:  
Duke Leonell Lord general doth it owe,  
A famous man in time of war and truce,  
And nephew dear unto the King my master,  
Who gave to him the Duke dorne of Lancaster.   

64  
This banner that stands next unto the kings,  
With glittering show that shakes the rest among,  
And bears in azure field three argent wings,  
To 〈◊〉 Earl of Warwick doth belong.  
This man the Duke of Gloucester's banner brings,  
〈◊〉 head, except my guess be wrong,  
The sierbrand the Duke of Clarence is,  
Thence the Duke of York doth claim for his.   

65  
The lance into three sundry pieces rend,  
Belongs unto the worthy Duke of Norfolk:  
The lightning longs unto the Earl of Kent,  
The ●●phin longs unto the Earl of Pembroke:  
The balance e'en by which just doom is meant,  
Belongs unto the noble Duke of Suffolk.  
The Dragon to the valiant Earl of Cumberland,  
The garland is the brave Earls of Northumberland.   

66  
The Earl of Arundel a ship half drowned,  
The marquess Barkly gives an argent hill:  
The gallant Earl of Essex hath the hound,  
The bay tree Derby that doth flourish still:  
The wheel hath Dorset ever running round,  
The Earl of March his banner all doth fill  
With Cedar trees: the Duke of Somerset  
A broken chair doth in his ensign set.   

67  
The Falcon hovering upon her nest,  
The Earl of Deu'nshire doth in banner bear,  
And brings a sturdy crew from out the West.  
The Earl of Oxenford doth give the Bear:  
The banner all with black and yellow dressed,  
Belongs unto the Earl of Winchester.  
He that the crystal cross in banner hath,  
Is sent from the rich Bishop of the Bath.   

68  
The archers on horse, with other armed men,  
Are two and forty thousand more or less,  
The other footman's number doubles them,  
Or wants thereof but little as I guess:  
The banners show their captains noble stem,  
A cross a wreath, an azure bat, a fesse,  
〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉, Edward bold and Harry,  
Under their guide the footmen all do carry.   

69  
The Duke of Buckingham that first appears,  
The next to him the Earl of Salibury:  
Burga● next a man well strick in years,  
And Edward next the Earl of Shrewsbury.  
Now 〈◊〉 about, and to the Scottish pears,  
Brave men, and well appointed you shall see,  
Where 〈◊〉 son unto the Scottish king,  
Unto the field doth thirty thousand bring.   

70  
All chosen men from many a shire and town,  
All ready to resist, assail, invade,  
Their standard is the beast of most renown,  
That in his paw doth hold a glittering blade,  
This is the heir apparent to the crown,  
This is the goodly imp whom nature made,  
To show her chiefest workmanship and skill,  
And a●ter broke the mould against her will.   

71  
The Earl of Otton cometh after him,  
That in his banner bears the golden bar:  
The spotted Leopard that looks so grim,  
That is the ensign of the Duke of Marre.  
Not far from him there cometh Alcubrin,  
A man of mighty strength and fierce in war,  
No Duke, nor Earl, nor marquess as men say,  
But of the savages he bears the sway.   

72  
The Duke of Trafford bears in ensign bright,  
The bird whose young ones stare in Phoebus' face: 
An 〈◊〉   
Lurcanio Lord of Angus, valiant knight,  
Doth give a Bull, whom two dogs hold in chase;  
The Duke of Albany give blue and white,  
(Since he obtained fair Geneuras' grace)  
Earl Bohune in his stately banner bears  
A Vulture that with claws a Dragon tears.   

73  
Their horsemen are with jacks for most part clad,  
Their horses are both swift of course and strong,  
They run on horseback with a slender gad,  
And like aspeare, but that it is more long:  
Their people are of war then peace more glad,  
More apt to offer then to suffer wrong:  
These are the succours out of Scotland sent,  
That with the noble Prince Zerbino went.   

74  
Then come the Irish men of valiant hearts,  
And active limbs, in personages tall,  
They naked use to go in many parts,  
But with a mantle yet they cover all:  
Short swords they use to carry and long darts,  
To fight both near and far aloof withal,  
And of these bands the Lords and leaders are,  
The noble Earls of Ormond and Kildare.   

75  
Some sixteen thousand men or thereabout,  
Out of the Irish I'll at this time went,  
Beside the other islands thereabout,  
Sweveland and Island other succours sent;  
To good king Charles, for why they stood in doubt,  
If he were conquered they should all repent,  
And still their numbers daily did increase,  
Of those that better like of war then peace.   

76  
Now while Rogero learns the arms and name  
Of every British Lord, behold a rout  
Of citizens and folk of all sorts came,  
Some with delight, and some with dread and doubt,  
To see a beast so strange, so strong, so tame,  
And wondering much, they compassed him about:  
They thought it was a strange and monstrous thing,  
To see a horse that had a grisons wing.   

77  
Wherefore to make the people marvel more,  
And as it were to sport himself and play,  
He spurred his beast, who strait aloft did soar,  
And bore his master Westward quite away:  
And strait he was beyond our English shore,  
And means to pass the Irish seas that day,  
Saint George his channel in a little while,  
He past, and after saw the Irish I'll.   

78  
Where men do tell strange tales, that long ago  
Saint Patrick built a solitary cave,  
Into the which they that devoutly go,  
By purging of their sins their souls may save:  
Now whether this report be true or no,  
I not affirm, and yet I not deprave.  
But crossing from hence to Island ward he found  
Angelica unto the rock fast bound.   

79  
Both nakt and bound at this same I'll of woe,  
For I'll of woe it may be justly called,  
Where peerless pieces are abused so,  
By monster vile to be devoured and thralled,  
Where pirates still by land and sea do go,  
Assaulting forts that are but weakly walled:  
And whom they take by flattery or by force,  
They give a monster quite without remorse.   

80  
I did declare not many books before,  
If you the same in memory do keep,  
How certain pirates took her at a shore,  
Where that chaste hermit lay by her asleep,  
And how at last for want of other store,  
Although their hearts did melt, and eyes did weep,  
Moved with a helpless and a vain compassion,  
Perforce they bound her on this woeful fashion.   

81  
And thus the caitiffs' left her all forlorn,  
With nothing but the rocks and seas in sight,  
As naked as of nature she was borne,  
And void of succour, and all comfort quite,  
No vail of lawn as then by her was worn,  
To shade the damask rose and lilies white,  
Whose colours were so mixed in every member,  
Like fragrant both in july and December.   

82  
Rogero at the first had surely thought,  
She was some image made of alla blaster,  
Or of white marble curiously wrought,  
To show the skilful hand of some great master.  
But viewing nearer he was quickly taught,  
She had some parts that were not made of plaster:  
Both that her eyes did shed such woeful tears,  
And that the wind did wave her golden hears.   

83  
To see her bound, to hear her mourn and plain,  
Not only made that he his journey stayed,  
But caused that he from tears could scant abstain,  
Both love and pity so his heart assayed,  

● O so●atenia ●inter tangun.  At last with words to mitigate her pain,  
Thus much to her in loving sort he said,  
O Lady worthy only of those bands,  
Wherewith love binds the hearts and not the hands.   

84  
And far unfit for these or any such,  
What wight was found so cruel and unkind,  
To banish all humanity so much,  
Those polished ivory hands in chains to bind,  
About that corpse whom none can worthily touch  
With hurtful hands, unworthy bands to wind?  
This said, she blushed, seeing those parts were spied,  
The which (though fair) yet nature strives to hide.   

85  
feign would she with her hand have hid her eyes,  
But that her hands were bound unto the stone,  
Which made her oft to break to woeful cries,  
(Sole remedy where remedy is none)  
At last with sobbing voice she doth devise  
To tell the knight the cause of all her moan: 
Sentence.   
But from the sea a sudden noise was heard,  
That this her speech and all the matter marred.   

86  
Behold there now appeared the monster great,  
Half underneath and half above the wave,  
As when a ship with wind and weather beat,  
Doth hasten to the haven itself to save:  
So doth the monster haste, in hope to eat  
The dainty morsel he was wont to have:  
Which sight so sore the damsel did appall,  
Rogero could not comfort her at all.   

87  
Yet with his spear in hand, though not in rest,  
The ugly Ork upon the brow he strake,  
(I call him Ork, because I know no beast,  
Nor fish from whence comparison to take)  
His head and teeth were like a bore, the rest  
A masle, of which I know not what to make,  
He gave him on the brow a mighty knock,  
But pierced no more than if it were a rock.   

88  
And finding that his blow so small hurt brings,  
He turns again on fresh him to aslay,  
The Ork that saw the shadow of great wings,  
Upon the water up and down to play,  
With fury great and rage away he flings,  
And on the shore doth leave the certain prey,  
The shadow vain he up and down doth chase,  
The while Rogero layeth him on a pace.   

89  
Even as an Eagle that espies from hi●, 
Simile.   
Among the herbs a party coloured snake,  
Or on a bank sunning herself to lie,  
To cast the elder skin, a new to make,  
Lies hovering warily till she may spy  
A vantage sure the venomed worm to take,  
Then takes him by the back, and beats her wings,  
Maugre the poison or his forked stings.   

90  
So doth Rogero both with sword and spear,  
The cruel monster warily assail,  
Not where he fenced is with grizzly hear,  
So hard as that no weapon could prevail,  
But sometime pricks him near unto his ear,  
Sometime his sides, sometimes his ugly tail;  
But nature had with such strong fences armed him,  
As all his blows but small or nothing harmed him.   

91  
So have I seen ere this a silly fly, 
Simile.   
With mastiff dog in summers heat to play,  
Sometime to sting him in his nose or eye,  
Sometime about his grizzly jaws to stay,  
And buzzing round about his ears to fly,  
He snaps in vain, for still she whips away,  
And oft so long she dallies on this sort,  
Till one snap comes and marreth all her sport.   

92  
But now Regero doth this sleight devise,  
Sith that by force he cannot make him yield,  
He means to dazzle both the monsters eyes,  
By hidden force of his enchanted shield,  
And being thus resolved, to land he flies,  
And from all harm the Lady fair to shield,  
He puts the precious ring upon her hand,  
Whose virtue was enchantments to withstand.   

93  
That ring that worthy Bradamant him sent,  
When she from false Brunello had it ta'en,  
With which Melyssa into India went,  
And wrought his freedom, and Al●ynas bane,  
That ring he lends the damsel, with intent  
To save her eyes by virtue of the same,  
Then takes he forth the shield, whose light so dazed  
The looker's o●, they fall down all amazed.   

94  
The monster now approaching to the shore,  
Amazed at this, resistance none did make,  
Regero hews upon him more and more,  
But his hard scales no harm thereby did take.  
Oh sir (said she) unloosen me before  
Out of this maze the monster do awake,  
And let your sword slay me this present hour,  
So as this monster may not me devour.   

95  
These woeful words moved so Rogeros' mind,  
That strait he did unloose the Lady fair,  
And caused her by and by to get behind  
Upon his horse, then mounting in the air,  
He leaves his Spanish journey first assigned,  
And unto little Britain doth repair,  
But by the way be sure he did not miss,  
To give her many a sweet and friendly kiss,   

96  
And having found a solitary place,  
A pleasant grove well watered with a spring,  
Which never herd nor herdman did deface,  
Where Philomela used still to sing,  
Here he alights, minding to stay a space,  
And hither he the Lady fair did bring,  
But sure it seemed he made his full account,  
Ere long upon a better beast to mount.   

97  
His armour made him yet a while to bid●,  
Which forced stay a more desire did breed,  
But now in him it was most truly tried,  
Oft times the greater haste, the worse the speed, 
〈◊〉   
He knits with haste two knots, while one untied.  
But soft 'tis best no further to proceed,  
I now cut off abruptly here my rhyme,  
And keep my tale unto another time.   
In Byreno that abandoned his kind Olympia in a desolate Island, 
Moral.  and fell in love with another, we may note an example of ingratitude, the monsirous fault of all faults, and most odious before God and man: and herein learn to abhor and detest this vice in him and in all others, that having received preferment or advancement, either by men or women, when they have done, shake them off like horses that be lame, or garments that be old, preferring one to the mill, the other to the dunghill: or as our Stukley said, make as much of his wife as he could, and if any could make more of her, they might take her, after he had gotten many thousand pounds by making much of her. In the spiteful words that one of Alcynas' women spoke of Rogero, we may observe the manner of want on worldlings, that if they see a young man live temperately, or go plainly, or speak devoutly, strait they say he is a base fellow, and one that knows not what belongs to a Gentleman: which foolish manner of phrase, by Rogeros' example we must learn to contemn, and know that such men are indeed base as think temperance, and sobriety, and devotion base qualities. Finally in Rogeros' travel about the world, we may see how commendable it is for a young gentleman to travel abroad into foreign nations, but yet we may note withal an inconvenience that comes many times with it, to see some Angelica's naked, that will tempt men of very staunch government and stayed years to that which they shall after repent, as Rogero did this his wantonness, as appears more plainly in the next book, where you shall find he lost both his horse and the ring by the ungratefulness of Angelica.  
For the matter historical of this tenth book, 
History.  there is little to be said, and nothing to be affirmed: for the succours sent to France from England, Scotland, Ireland, and many places thereabouts, though I cannot affirm precisely of the time, yet sure it is that many have been sent hence against the Turk to France and elsewhere. And whereas he speaks of S. Patrick the Irish Saint, I would have them that would know the story of him to look in Surius de vitis Sanctorum, and there they may see it at large: for mine own part, at my being in Ireland, where I tarried a few months, I was inquisitive of their opinion of this Saint, and I could learn nothing, other than a reverent conceit that they had of him, as becomes all Christians to have of devout men, and chiefly of those by whom they are first instructed in the Christian faith: but for his purgatory, I found neither any that affirmed it or believed it.  
Logestillas' castle, 
Allegory.  the ornaments thereof, the herbs of the garden, all these figure the true magnificence, glory, comfort, and utility of virtue. The four Ladies sent to rescue Rogero, are the four Cardinal virtues, which being well united together, are able to overthrow whole navies of vicious pleasures. And so whatsoever else is spoken of Logestilla in Allegory is taken for virtue.  
In Angelica tied to the rock, 
Al●sio●.  and delivered by Rogero, he alludes manifestly to the tale in Ovid of Andromade and Perseus, who with his shield turned the beholders into stones.   

  

THE ELEVENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Angelica doth hide herself away,  
By virtue of the ring Rogero lent her:  
Rogero sees a giant bear away,  
His spouse half dead, and greatly doth lament her:  
Orlando at the I'll of woe doth stay,  
Where many women meet but hard adventure:  
Here be the monster killed, Olympia freed,  
To marry whom Oberto soon agreed.  

1  
THe galiant courser in his full career.  
Is made by man, to stop with sl●nder reign:  
But man himself his lust and fond desire,  
Is seldom drawn by reason to refrain;  
'tis hard to stop, but harder to retire,  
When youthful course ensueth pleasure vain,  

Simile.  As Bears do break the hives and weak defences,  
When smell of honey cometh to their senses.   

2  
No marvel if Rogero could not hold,  
But that he would now take a little sport,  
That naked did Angelica behold,  
Within a grove alone from all resort;  
His love to Bradamant now waxeth cold,  
Or at the least is tempered in such sort,  
He means therewith at this time to dispense,  
And not to let this go a maiden hence.   

3  
Whose beauty was so rare as well it might,  

A notable St●●k.  Have made Zenocrates an Epicure,  
No marvel then if this same gentle knight,  
Could not so great temptation well endure:  
But while he hastend to his hoped delight,  
Of which he thought him in possession sure,  
There fell a strange and unexpected thing,  
By means Angelica did know the ring.   

4  
This was the ring that she with her had brought,  
To France, the very first time she was there,  
What time by aid thereof so well she wrought,  
She holp her brother to th'enchanted spear,  
By virtue of this ring she set at nought,  
Those magic arts, that men so greatly fear:  
With this Orlando County Palladine,  
She did release from wicked Dragontine,   

5  
By help of this invisible she went,  
Out of the tower where Atlant had her set: 
A● of 〈…〉 Or●   
For this same ring Brunello false was sent  
By Agramant, who longed the same to get,  
To tell that story is not my intent,  
For fear it might my other matter let,  
But certain 'tis, that when this ring was lost,  
In fortune's waves she had been ever tossed.   

6  
Now when she saw this ring was on her hand,  
She was so struck with marvel and with joy,  
That scarce she could discern and understand,  
If she were wake or if she dreamt sometoy:  
But to make trial how the case doth stand,  
And know if she this treasure doth enjoy,  
Into her mouth the ring she doth convey,  
And strait invisible she goeth away.   

7  
Rogero that each minute thought an hour,  
(His armour of, and ready for the play)  
Expecting now the damsel in a bower,  
Where he had pointed her for him to stay,  
Found all to late, that by the rings strange power,  
She had unseen conveyed herself away.  
He lent it her to save her eyes from blindness,  
And for reward she quits him with unkindness,   

8  
With which her act dipleasd and ill paid,  
He cursed himself, and chased in his mind:  
O cruel and unthankful wench (he said)  
Is this the love that I deserved to find?  
Dost thou reward him thus that brought thee aid?  
To thy preserver art thou so unkind?  
Take ring and shield, and flying horse and me,  
This only bar me not thy face to see.   

9  
This said, he goeth about where she had been,  
Still groping as the weather had been dark,  
Embracing oft the air his arms between,  
In steed of her, then heedful he doth hark,  
To find her by the sound that was not seen,  
And whence the same doth come he well doth mark.  
But on went she until it was her lote  
To come into a silly shepherds cote.   

10  
And though this same were far from any town,  
Yet there she quickly did herself provide  
Of meat and drink, and of a simple gown,  
Sufficient for the time her bare to hide,  
Not suiting for a Lady of renown,  
That had been ever clad in pomp and pride,  
Had gowns of crimson, purple and carnasion,  
Of every colour, and of every fashion.   

11  
But yet no kind of weed so base or ill is,  
Her of her princely beauty to bereave,  
They that so much extol fair Amarillis,  
Or Galate, do but them themselves deceive:  
Cease Tityrus to praise thy golden Phillis,  
Peace Melebe, this passes by your leave;  
Ye soldiers all that serve in Cupid's garrison,  
May not presume with this to make comparison.   

12  
Now here the damsel fair a palfrey hired,  
With other things most needful for her way,  
And means to her own home to have retired,  

● to An● the 12. ● staff.  From whence she had been absent many a day.  
The while Rogero now with travel tired,  
Lamenting he had lost so fair a prey,  
Doth seek his horse who had not long been idle,  
But in his master's absence broke his bridle.   

13  
Which when he found, the rains in pieces torn,  
The horse soared far away with mighty wing,  
How could such haps with patientness be borne,  
Of one great loss to find a greater spring?  
He sitteth in a dump, like one forlorn,  
For loss of her, his horse, and of his ring,  
Whose virtue great did make him much repent it,  
But yet much more her virtue that had sent it.   

14  
And in this rage he puts his armour on,  
And on his shoulder carrieth his shield,  
Pursuing that first path he lights upon,  
He found it brought him to a goodly field,  
On side whereof when he a while had gone,  
It seemed the wood adjoind some sound did yield,  
And still the near and nearer that he goes,  
The plainer sound he heard of sturdy blows.   

15  
A combat twixt a Giant and a Knight,  
He sees hard by most furiously begun,  
The Giant with a club doth think by might,  
The battle of the tother to have won;  
The tother with his sword and nimble fight,  
His furious blows with watchful eye doth shun.  
Rogero seeing this great inequality,  
Yet standeth still and shows no partiality.   

16  
But in his mind he wished the Knight to win,  
When lo the Giant with new fury fed,  
To lay on load with both hands doth begin,  
And with one blow he lays him down for dead,  
And strait in cruel sort he steppeth in,  
For to disarm him, and cut off his head:  
But when the Giant had the face disarmed,  
Rogero knew the party he had harmed.   

17  
He saw it was his Bradamant most dear,  
Whom this same Giant would have made to die,  
Wherefore with courage stout he steppeth near,  
The Giant to new combat to defy,  
Who either hears him not, or would not hear,  
Or meaneth not a conflict new to try,  
But took her up, and on his shoulders laid her,  
And so in haste away from thence conveyed her.   

18  
So have I seen a wolf to bear away  
A lamb from shepherds fold, so have I seen  
An Eagle on a silly Dove to pray,  
And soar aloft the sky and earth between:  
Rogero hies him after as he may,  
Until he came unto a goodly green,  
But th'other every step so much out stepped him,  
That in his view Rogero scantly kept him.   

19  
But now a while of him I speak no more,  
And to Orlando I return again, 
He comes to Rogero again in the 1● book, staff. 14.   
Who having lost the sight of Holland shore,  
Did hasten to Ebuda with much pain:  
I did declare not many books before,  
How he Cymoscos engine strange did gain,  
And to the bottom of the sea did throw it,  
That none might find it out again or know it.   

20  
And though his meaning and intent was so,  
Yet vain it was, as after was perceived,  
For why, that serpent vile our ancient so,  
That Eva first in Paradise deceived,  
Not much above two hundred years ago,  
(As we from our forefathers have received)  
From out the sea by necromancy brought it,  
And then in Almanie afresh they wrought it.   

21  
They wrought it both in iron and in brass,  
The cunning and the art increasing still,  
As oft by proof we find it comes to pass,  
The worse the work, the greater grows the skill, 
Sentence.   
And to each kind a name assigned there was,  
According to the first inventors will,  
To tell the names of all were but a trouble,  
Some demicanons, some are called double.   

22  
The Cul●erings to shoot a bullet far,  
The Falcon, ●aker, ●ini●n and the Sling,  
Not armed men, but walled towns to mar,  
Such 〈◊〉 force is in this hellish thing.  
Ye soldiers brave, and valiant men of war,  
Now cease to field your manly darts to bring,  
And get a harquebus upon your shoulder,  
Or el●e in vain you sue to be a soldier.   

23  
How didst thou find (oh filthy foul invention)  
A harbour ●afe in any human hart?  
Thou mak'st a coward get the soldiers pension,  
And soldiers brave thou robbest of due desert,  
Whole millions have been slain, as stories mention,  
Since first 〈◊〉 was this wicked art,  
France, Italy and England chief may rue it,  
Since first they used this art, and first they knew it.   

24  
The English bowmen may go burn their boes,  
And break their 〈◊〉, and cut in two the string,  
That weapon now may keep the corn from crows,  
That did the French at Agincourt so sting:  
But to that wight I wish a world of woes,  
That did to light, device so diu'llish bring,  
Let him be given into the hands of Satan,  
To be tormented ay with C●re and Dathan.   

25  
Now good 〈◊〉 though he greatly strived,  
With speed to get him to the I'll of woe,  
Yet first the Irish King was there arrived,  
By chance, or else that God would have it so,  
Because it might the better be contrived,  
On wrongful wights his judgements just to show.  
But when ● b●●● once in sight appeared,  
Orlando all the company strait cheered.   

26  
And putting off his arms of colour sable,  
He bids the master out to launch his boat,  
And in the same anchor strong and cable,  
With which he meanus unto this I'll to float,  
Not doubting (if luck serve) he will be able,  
To put the anchor in the monster's throat.  
And thus alone the noble Knight doth venture,  
Into the I●e ● buda then to enter.   

27  
Now was the time when as Aurora fair,  
Began to show the world her golden head,  
And look abroad to take the cool fresh air,  
〈◊〉 lying still in jealous bed,  
When as Orlando hither did repair,  
By two blind guides, Cupid and Fortune led,  
When lo unto the shore his shipboate turning,  
He seemed to hear a noise as one were mourning.   

28  
At which strange sound casting his eye aside,  
He might discern a goodly damsel naked,  
With arms abroad unto the rock fast tie,  
That what with cold and what with terror shaked,  
eftsoons the hideous monster he espied,  
Whose light might well have made stout hearts have quaked,  
Orland●●●nd ●●nd therewith is not 〈◊〉,  
Nor his high courage any w●●● abated.   

29  
He gets between the monster and his prey,  
That pray that he so hotly doth pursue,  
And (for before he was resolved what way  
He would attempt the monster to subdue)  
Upon his shoulder doth the anchor lay,  
And when he came within his ugly view,  
Even maugre all his malice, might and rancour,  
Into his open jaws he bears the anchor.   

30  
As they that dig in mine of coal or stone,  
The same in sundry places underprop,  
Lest it should fall when least they think thereon,  
And so their breath or else their passage stop:  
So is this anchor fastened in the bone,  
Both in the bottom of his mouth and top,  
That though he would again he could not close it,  
Nor wider open it for to unlose it.   

31  
Now having gagd his hideous chaps so sure,  
That out and in he can with safety go,  
He enters with his sword the place obscure,  
And there bestoweth many a thrust and blow,  
And as that city cannot be secure,  
That hath within her walls received her foe,  
No safer could this Ork be now from danger,  
That in his entrails hath received a stranger.   

32  
But gripped now with pangs of inward pain,  
Sometime he plungeth up unto the sky,  
Sometime he diveth to the deep again,  
And makes the troubled sands to mount on high:  
Orlando feels the sea come in amain,  
That forced him at last his swimming try,  
He swims to shore with body strong and able,  
And bears upon his neck the anchors cable.   

33  
And as a savage Bull that unaware  
About his horns hath now a cord fast bound, 
Simile.   
Doth strive in vain to break the hunter's snare,  
And skips, and leaps, and flings, and runneth round,  
So though Orlando with his strength so rare,  
Assayed to draw him nearer to the ground,  
Yet doth he fetch an hundred frisks and more,  
Ere he could draw him up upon the shore.   

34  
His wounded bowels shed such store of blood, 
The 〈◊〉 deed 〈◊〉 ●ed 〈◊〉 the s● at the 〈◊〉 wakes 〈◊〉   
They call that sea the red sea to this hour,  
Sometime he breathed such a sudden flood,  
As made the clearest weather seem to lower,  
The hideous noise filled every cave and wood,  
So that god Proteus doubting his own power,  
Fled strait fro thence, himself in corners hiding,  
Not daring longer here to make abiding.   

35  
And all the gods that dwell in surging waves,  
With this same tumult grow in such a fear,  
They hid themselves in rocks and hollow caves,  
Left that Orlando should have found them there:  
Neptune with triple mace by flight him saves,  
His charet drawn with dolphin's doth him bear,  
Nor yet behind Glaucus or Triton tarried,  
For fear in these new broils to have miscarried.   

36  
Those Islanders that all this while attended,  
And saw the monster drawn to land and ta'en,  
With superstition moved much, condemned  
This godly work for wicked and profane;  
As though that Proteus would be new offended,  
That had before, and now might work their bane.  
They doubt he would (thus fools their good haps consters  
Send to their land his flock of ugly monsters.   

37  
And therefore Proteus anger to appease,  
They mean to drown Orlando if they can,  
Whose deed they deemed his godhead did displease●  
And e'en as fire doth creep from bran to bran,  
Until the pile of wood it wholly cease,  
So doth this fury grow from man to man,  
That they concluded all upon the matter,  
To throw Orlando bound into the water.   

38  
One takes a sling, another takes a bow,  
This with a sword is armed, he with a spear,  
And some afore, and some behind him go,  
Some near approach, some stand aloof for fear:  
He museth much what his ungrateful so  
Should mean, for benefits such mind to bear:  
And inwardly he was displeased and sorry,  
To find such wrong where he deserved glory.   

39  
As little curs that bark at greatest Bear,  
Yet cannot cause him once his way to shun,  
No more doth he these curlike creatures fear,  
That like a sort of mad men on him run.  
And (for they saw he did no armour wear)  
They thought the feat would have been easily done,  
They knew not that his skin from head to foot,  
Was such to strike on it, it was no boot.   

40  
But when that he his Durindana drew,  
He laid there with about him in such sort,  
That strait their faintness and his force they knew,  
They found to fight with him it was no sport.  
Thrice ten of them at blows but ten he slew,  
Their fellows fled that saw them cut so short,  
Which foes thus foiled, Orlando now intended  
T'unloose the Lady whom he had defended.   

41  
But now this while, behold the Irish band  
Arrived near unto their chiefest city,  
Who had no sooner set their foot on land,  
But that forthwith they put apart all pity,  
And slew all sorts that came unto their hand,  
The fierce, the faint, the foolish and the witty,  
Thus were't just doom, or were it cruel rage,  
They spared of neither sex nor neither age.   

42  
Thus th'isle of woe is made a woeful I'll,  
And for the people's sake they plague the place,  
Orlando sets the Lady free the while,  
That there was bound in that unseemly case,  
To have been given unto the monster vile:  
And viewing well, he called to mind her face,  
And that it should Olympia be he guessed,  
But 'twas Olympia that had thus been dressed.   

43  
Distressed Olympia thus unkindly served, 
Olympia.   
Whom love and fortune made a double scorn:  
For first of him, of whom she best deserved,  
She was forsaken quite and left forlorn.  
And next by pirates taken and reserved,  
Of monster vile to be in pieces torn.  
And in this case the good Orlando found her,  
And then with great compassion he unbound her.   

44  
And thus he said, now tell what strange annoy,  
Or evil hap hath hurt thy happy reign?  
Whom late I left in solace and in joy.  
Why do I find in danger and in pain?  
How is the bliss that thou didst then enjoy.  
So changed and turned to misery again?  
And she in woeful manner thus replied,  
When shame her cheeks with crimson first had died:   

45  
I know not if my chance or else my choice,  
If fortune or my folly be in blame,  
Shall I lament, or shall I now rejoice,  
That live in woe, and should have did in shame●  
And as she spoke, the tears did stop her voice:  
But when again unto herself she came,  
She told him all the woeful story weeping,  
How false Byreno had betrayed her sleeping.   

46  
And how from that same I'll where he betrayed her,  
A crew of cursed pirates did her take,  
And to this wicked Island had conveyed her,  
For that same foul and ugly monsters sake,  
Where now it was Orlando's hap to aid her:  
She walked naked when these words she spake●  
Look how Diana painted is in tables,  
Among the rest of Ovid's pleasant fables.   

47  
Of whose sharp doom the Poet there doth tell, 
ovid. M●tam. 3.   
How she with horns Actaeon did invest,  
Because he saw her naked at the well:  
So stands Olympia fair, with face and breast,  
And sides, and thighs to be discerned well,  
And legs and feet, but yet she hides the rest.  
And as they two were talking thus together,  
Oberto king of Irish Isle came thither.   

48  
Who being moved at the strange report,  
That one alone the monster should assail,  
And gag him with an anchor in such sort,  
To make his strength, and life, and all to fail,  
Then draw him to the shore as ship to port:  
Is towd with ropes, without or oars or sail  
This made him go to find Orlando out,  
The while his soldiers spoiled all about.   

49  
Now when the King this worthy Knight did see,  
Though all with blood and water foul distained,  
Yet strait he guest it should Orlando be,  
For in his youth in France he had remained,  
And knew the Lords and Knights of best degree,  
In Charles his court a page of honour trained:  
Their old acquaintance cauld at this new meeting.  
They had a loving and a friendly greeting.   

50  
And then Orlando told the Irish king,  
How and by whom Olympia was abused,  
By one whom out of danger great to bring,  
She had no pain nor death itself refused,  
How he himself was witness of the thing.  
While they thus talk, Oberto her perused,  
Whose sorrows past, renewed with present fears,  
Did fill her lovely eyes with watery tears.   

51  

〈…〉  Such colour had her face, as when the Sun  
Doth thine on watery cloud in pleasant spring,  
And e'en as when the summer is begun,  
The Nightingales in boughs do sit and sing,  
So that blind god, whose force can no man shun,  
Sits in her eyes, and thence his darts doth fling,  
And baths his wings in her clear crystal streams,  
And sunneth them in her rare beauty's beams.   

52  
In the●e he heats his golden headed dart,  
In those he cooleth it, and tempered so,  
He levels thence at good Obertos' hart,  
And to the head he drawth it in his bow,  
Thus is he wounded deep and feels no smart,  
H●s armour cannot send to fierce a blow:  
For while on her fair eyes and limbs he gaped,  
The arrow came thet could not be escaped.   

53  

The description of Olympias beauty.  And sure Olympias beauties were so rare,  
As might well move a man the same to note,  
Her hair, her eyes, her cheeks most amorous are,  
Her nose, her mouth, her shoulders and her throat,  
As for her other parts that then were bare,  
Which she was wont to cover with her cote,  
Were made in such a mould as might have moved  
The chaste Hipolytus her to have loved.   

54  
A man would think them framed by Phydias arts,  
Their colour and proportion good was such,  
And unto them her shamefastness imparts  
A greater grace to that before was much:  
I cease to praise those other secret parts,  
As not so fit to talk of as to touch,  
In general all was as white as milk,  
As smooth as ivory, and as soft as silk.   

55  
Had she in valley of Idea been,  
When Pastor Paru hap did to befall,  
To be a judge three goddesses between,  
She should have got, and they foregone the ball.  
Had she but once of him been naked seen;  
For He●era he had not cared at all,  
Nor broke the bonds of sacred hospitality,  
That bred his country wars and great mortality.   

56  
Had she but then been in Crotana town,  

Zeuces look in the 〈◊〉.  When Zeuce● for the goddess junos' sake,  
To paint a picture of most rare renown,  
Did many of the fairest damsels make  
To stand before him bare from foot to crown,  
A pattern of their perfect parts to take,  
No doubt he would have all the rest refused,  
And her alone in steed of all have choosed.   

57  
I doubtless deem Byreno never viewed  
Her naked corpse, for certain if he had,  
He could not so all human sense exclude,  
To leave her thus alone in state so bad:  
But briefly all this matter to conclude,  
It seemed Oberto would have been full glad,  
In this her woe, her misery and need,  
To comfort her by either word or deed.   

58  
And strait he promised that he would attend her,  
And set her in her country if he may,  
And maugre all her enemies defend her,  
And take revenge on him did her betray.  
And that he might both men and money lend her,  
He would to pawn his realm of Ireland lay,  
Nor till she were restored ask no repayment,  
And strait he sought about to get her raiment.   

59  
They need not travel far to find a gown,  
For why immediately they found good store,  
By sending to the next adjoining town,  
The which his men of war had spoiled before,  
Where many a worthy Lady of renown,  
That had been naked tide unto the shore,  
And many a tender virgin and unfoiled,  
Were of their raiment and their lives despoiled.   

60  
And yet for all they were so richly gownd,  
Oberto could not clothe her as he would,  
No not in Florence (though it doth abound  
With rich embroideries of pearl and gold)  
Could any piece of precious stuff be found,  
Of worth to serve to keep her from the cold,  
Whose shape was so exact in every part,  
Even hard to match by nature or by art.   

61  
Orlando with this love was well content,  
As one that hither came with other end,  
For sith he missed Angelica, he meant  
His journey back to France again to bend,  
With them by ship to Ireland first he went,  
As in his way, and with the king his friend,  
Not hearing, had his love been here or no,  
For all were dead that could have told him so.   

62  
At both their suits be scant stayed there one day,  
His passing love such passions in him bred,  
But ere he went he doth Oberto pray  
To do for her as much as he had said,  
And parting so from thence he took his way,  
e'en as his fortune and his fancy led,  
But good Oberto need not be desired,  
To do as much or more than he required.   

63  
For few days passed but that with her he went  
To Holland, where he raised such commotion,  
That strait Byreno taken was and shent,  
Receiving on three trees a just promotion:  
And all those countries did forthwith consent,  
To swear them faith and be at their devotion.  
Thus of a Countess she is made a Prince,  
And lives in joy and solace ever since.   

64  
Orlando bends his course to British shore,  

●f the ●mpia.  Whence he not long before to ship did mount,  
Where he had left his famous Brilliadore,  
A goodly courser and of good account,  
No doubt of valiant acts he did good store,  
Though what they were I cannot here recount,  
For such a mind he carride still unto them,  
He cared not to tell them, but to do them.   

65  
But in what fashion he did pass the rest  
Of that unfortunate and fatal year,  
I say by me it cannot be expressed,  
Because thereof no record doth appear,  
But when the spring did ground with green invest,  
And sun in Gemini made weather clear,  
Then did he acts both worthy of reciting,  
And to be kept in everlasting writing.   

66  
From hills to dales, from woods to pastures wide,  
From waters fresh unto the salt sea shore,  
To seek his love he up and down doth ride,  
The less he finds he seeketh still the more;  
At last he heard a voice for help that cried,  
He draws his sword and spurs his Brilliadore,  
But to refresh the reader now 'tis reason,  
And stay my story to a better season.   
In the beginning of this eleventh book is a notable moral of temperance, 
Moral.  with two comparisons, one of the horse, another of the Bear, which I judge fit for this place rather to be repeated then expounded. If (saith he) a horse, with a little snaffle, may be stopped in his full career, what a shame is it for a man not to bridle his disordinate affections with reason, but to be like a Bear so greedy of honey, that he breaks down the hives, and devoureth the combs, till his tongue, eyes and jaws be stung, ready to make him run mad: so do young men devour with extreme greediness, these sensual pleasures, of venery, surfeiting, drinking, pride in apparel, and all intemperance, till in the end they are plagued with sickness, poverty, and many other inconveniences to their utter ruin and confusion. Wherefore in the person of Rogero young men may weigh the losses he had by following his present fancy to Angelica; namely his ring and his horse: by the tone is understood reason, by the other courage. In Angelica whose beauty so exceedingly shined in her poor apparel, you great Ladies may see, that your true natural beauties become you best, beside that it hath ever been counted a great sign of modesty and chaste disposition in women, to be rather cleanly then sumptuous in apparel, for the vain expense therein hath been often occasion both to corrupt the minds and manners of many not ill disposed. And therefore that excellent verse of Sir Philip Sidney in his first Arcadia (which I know not by what mishap is left out in the printed book) is in mine opinion worthy to be praised and followed, to make a good and virtuous wife. 
Who doth desire that chaste his wife should be,  
First be he true, for truth doth truth deserve,  
Then be he such as she his worth may see,  
And always one credit with her preserve:  
Not toying kind, nor causelessly unkind,  
Not stirring thoughts, nor yet denying right:  
Not spying faults, not in plain errors blind,  
Never hard hand, nor ever reins too light:  
As far from want, as far from vain expense,  
Tone doth enforce, the tother doth entice,  
Allow good company, but drive fro thence,  
All filthy mouths that glory in their vice.  
This done, thou hast no more but leave the rest,  
To nature, fortune, time, and woman's breast.  In which you see his opinion of the two extremities of want and vain expense.  
Of the invention of guns, 
History,  as I somewhat touched two books before, so here you see how he affirmath in a manner that they were invented in Germany. And so I have read, that the first time they were used was in the year 1391. in the Venetians war against the Genoa's, but it is marvel that the inventors name of so monstrous a thing is not known.  
Baken the great English necromancer wrote many years before that time, that he knew how to make an engine, that with salt peter and brimstone well tempered together should prove notable for battery, but he said he would not discover it, for fear it would be a mean to destroy all mankind.  
In the destruction of the I'll of Ebuda, 
Allegory.  and all that hath been said of it before, with the monsters that are said to devour women naked and forsaken, this Allegorical sense is to be picked out (though to some perhaps it will seem greatly strained.) By the Island is signified pride, and looseness of life, that they are brought to (by pirates) which signify flatterers, that go roving about to 'tice them hither, robbing them indeed of all their comely garments of modesty, and sobriety, and at last leave them naked upon the shore, despised and forsaken, to be devoured of most ugly and misshapen monsters signified by the Ork, as filthy diseases ', deformities, and all kind of contemptiple things, which monsters, a good plain friend, with an anchor of fidelitte will kill, as Orlando did this, and so cloth again the nakedness, that before pride and flattery made us lay open to the world.  
And whereas is it said that Neptune and Proteus fled from Orlando, 
Allusion.  it is meant that a true Christian drives a-away all superstitious idolatry, where soever he cometh.  
I find no Allusion worth the noting.   

  

THE TWELFTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Orlando doth pursue with great disdain,  
One that did seem his love by force to carry:  
Rogero led by such another train,  
With him doth in the charmed palace tarry:  
Orlando parting from the place again,  
He sees indeed her whom he fai●e would marry,  
Fights with Ferraw, and foils two Turkish bands,  
And finds fair Isabella in outlaws hands.  

1  
Fair Ceres when she hastened back again,  
From great Ideahomward to return,  
There where Enceladus with endless pain,  
Doth bear mount Aetna that doth ener burn,  
When she had sought her daughter long in vain,  
Whose loss so strange did make the mother mourn,  

●la duabus ●as p● 〈…〉 Sp●●undo 〈◊〉 ●er coach ●rpents.  She spoils for spite her breast, cheeks, eyes and hear,  
At last two boughs from Pine tree she doth tear.   

2  
In Vulcan's forge sly sets on fire the brands,  
And gives them power for ever to be light,  
And taking one a piece in both her hands,  
And drawn in coach by yoked serpents might,  
She searcheth woods and fields and seas and lands,  
And brooks and streams and dens devoid of light,  
And hearing here on earth no news to like her,  
At last she went to hell itself to seek her.   

3  
Were good Orlando's power to be compared,  
As well with Ceres as his loving mind,  
He would no pain, no place, nor time have spared,  
His dear beloved Angelyca to find,  
To go to rocks and caves he would have dared,  
And place to saints, and place to sends assigned,  
He only wanted one of Ceres' wagons,  
In which she carried was with flying dragons.   

4  
How he did search all France before he told,  
Now Italy to search is his intent,  
And Germany and Castill new and old,  
And then to Africa to paste he meant,  
And as he thus determined, behold  
He heard a voice that seemed to lament,  
And drawing nigh to understand what tiding,  
On a great horse he saw a horse man riding.   

5  
Perforce he bore upon his saddle bow,  
A Lady sorrowful and sore afraid,  
That cried a loud still making open show,  
Of inward grief and thus to him she said,  
O worthy wight (Lord of Anglante) know  
I die, I die, without you bring me aid,  
And then he thought coming more nigh to view her,  
It was Angelyca, and that he knew her.   

6  
I say not that it was, but that it seemed,  
To be Angelyca that thus was carried,  
But he that justly great disgrace it deemed,  
Thus in his sight, to have his mistress haryd,  
Whose love above all treasures he esteemed,  
To take revenge hereof he nothing taryd,  
But put his spurs to Bril●●adores sides,  
And in great haste to that same horseman rides.   

7  
With many bloody words and cruel threats,  
He bids that horseman to come back again,  
But he at nought his words and speeches sets,  
Rejoicing in so rich a got gain,  
The vilen still ground of Orlando gets,  
Until they came into a fair large plain,  
Wherein a house of great estate was built,  
The gate hereof in gorgeous sort was gilded.   

8  
The building all of marble fair was wrought,  
Most costly carved and cunningly contrived,  
To this fair house his prey the soul thief brought,  
Strait after him Orlando there arrived:  
Then he alights and all abcut he sought,  
For him that had him of his joy deprived,  
He maketh search in chambers all about,  
And galleries and halls to find them out.   

9  
Each room he finds set forth with rich array,  
With beds of silk, and gold of curious art,  
But yet he finds not that desired pray.  
The want whereof did sore torment his hart.  
There might he find with like affliction stray,  
Gradass●, Sacrepant and Brandimart,  
And fierce Ferraw postest with strange confusion,  
Procured in that place by strong illusion.   

10  
They all complain in anger and in rage,  
How of this house the master them hath used,  
One lost his horse, another lost his page,  
Another doubts his mistress is abused:  
Thus are they kept like birds within a cage,  
And stand with sense and wits and words confused,  
And many with this strange deception carried,  
Within this place both weeks & months had tarried   

11  
Orlando when he saw he could not learn,  
Where this same thief his mistress had conveyed,  
Thought she was carride out at some postern;  
Wherefore within no longer time he stayed,  
But walks about the cattle to discern,  
I● that were true of which he was asf aid:  
But as he ●alked up and down the plain,  
He thought he heard her call him back again.   

12  
And to a window casting up his eve,  
He thought he saw her face full of divinity,  
And that he heard her plainly thus to cry,  
Onoble wight of proved magnanimity,  
Help now, or never help, alas shall  
In mine Orlando's sight lose my virginity?  
Kill me, or let a thousand deaths befall me,  
Rather than let a villain so to thrall me.   

13  
These woeful speeches once or twice repeated,  
Caused him return into the house again,  
And searching once again he chaste and fretted,  
(Hope still assuaging somewhat of his pain)  
And oft he heard the voice that counterfeited  
The speech of his Angelica most plain,  
From side to side he followed still the sound,  
But of Angelica no sign he found.   

14  
Now while Orlando tarrid in this trance,  
In hope for to avenge his mistress harms,  
Roger● (who I told you had this chance)  
To see his Fradamant in giants arms,  
(Drawn to this place with such another dance)  
Namely by force of some unusual charms,  
Saw first the gvant in this castle enter,  
And after him he boldly doth adventure.   

15  
But when he came within the castle walls,  
And made much narrow search, as in such case,  
In garrets, towers, in parlours and in halls,  
And under stairs and many a homely place,  
Oft casting doubts what hurt his love befalls,  
Or left the thief were gone in this mean space,  
Forthwith he walketh out into the plain,  
And hears a voice recall him back again.   

16  
That voice that lately did Orlando make,  
Return in hope Angelica to find,  
Rogero now for Bradamant doth take,  
Whose love no less possessed his careful mind:  
And when the voice unto Gradasso spoke,  
Or Sacrepant, or Brandimart most kind,  
To every one of these it plainly seemed,  
To be her voice whom each one best esteemed   

17  
Atlanta had procured this strange invention,  
Thereby to keep Rogero from mischance,  
Because he saw, it was the heavens intention,  
That he by treason should be killed in France,  
Ferraw and those of whom I last made mention,  
With all whom value highest did advance,  
To keep him company he here detained,  
With good provision while they here remained.   

18  
And while these knights with strange enchanments bound  
Do here abide, behold the Indian queen  
Angelica that late her ring had found,  
(Whose vettue can her cause to go unseen, 
Angelica   
And also frustrate magic skill profound)  
Now longing home, where long she had not been,  
And being now of needful things provided,  
Yet wants she one that her might hom have guided   

19  
Orlando company she would have had,  
Or Sacrepant, she cared not which oftwaine,  
Not that of either's love she would be glad,  
For them and all the world she did disdain,  
But (for the way was dangerous and bad.  
In time of war to travel France and Spain)  
She wished for her own safety and her ease,  
To have the company of one of these.   

20  
Wherefore a while she travels up and down,  
To seek for them that long in vain had sought her,  
And passing many woods and many a town,  
Unto this place at last good fortune brought her,  
Where when she saw these knights of great renown,  
Thus seek for her, she scant abstains from laughter,  
To see Atlanta's cunning and dissembling,  
Her person and her voice so right resembling.   

21  
Herself unseen, sees them and all the rest,  
Now means she sure to take one of them two,  
But yet she knows not which (her doubtful breast  
Did stay as unresolved what to do)  
Orlando vellew could defend her best,  
But then this doubt is added thereunto,  
That when she once so highly had preferred him,  
She shall not know again how to discard him.   

22  
But Sacrepant although she should him lift  
High up to heaven, yet maketh the no doubt,  
But she will find some sleight and pretty shift,  
With her accustomed coyness him to lout:  
To him she goes, resolved of this drift,  
And strait the precious ring she taketh out  
From of her mouth, which made her go concealed,  
With mind to him alone to be revealed.   

23  
But strait came in Orlando and Ferraw,  
That both desired, her to have enjoyed,  
Thus all of them at once their goddess saw,  
Not being now by magick● art annoyed,  
For when the ring on finger she did draw,  
She made unwares all their enchantments void,  
These three were all in complete armour, save  
Ferraw no headpiece had, nor none would have.   

24  
The cause was this, he solemnly had sworn,  
Upon his head no helmet should be set,  
But that that was by stour Orlando worn,  

●-●rasano.  Which he did erst from Traian's brother get,  
Ferraw to wear a helmet had forborn,  
Since with the ghost of Argall he had met:  
Thus in this sort they came together armed,  
By virtue of her ring now all uncharmed.   

25  
All three at once do now the damsel view,  
All three at once on her would strait have seized,  
All three her faithful lovers were she knew,  
Yet with all three at once she is displeased,  
And from all three she strait herself withdrew,  
Who (haply) one at once would her have pleased,  
From henceforth none of them she thinks to need,  
But that the ring shall serve in all their steed.   

26  
She hastens hence and will no longer stay,  
Disdain and fear together make her swift,  
Into a wood she leads them all the way,  
But when she saw there was none other shift,  
Into her mouth the ring she doth convey,  
That ever holp her at the deadest list,  
And out of all their fights forth with she vanished,  
And leaves them all with wonder half astonished.   

27  
Only one path there was, and that not wide,  
In this they followed her with no small haste,  
But she first caused her horse to step aside,  
And standeth still a while till they were passed,  
And then at better leisure she doth ride,  
A far more easy pace, and not so fast,  
Until they three continuing still their riding,  
Came to a way in sundry parts dividing.   

28  
And coming where they found no further track,  
Ferraw, that was before the other two,  
In choler and in fury great turned back,  
And asked the other what they meant to do,  
And (as his manner was to brag and crack)  
Demanded how they durst presume to woe,  
Or follow her, whose property he claimed,  
Except they would of him be slain or maimed.   

29  
Orlando strait replied, thou foolish beast,  
Save that I see thou dost an helmet want,  
I would ere this have taught thee at the least,  
Hereafter with thy betters not to vaunt:  
Ferraw doth thanks him for his care (in jest)  
And said it showed his wits were very scant,  
For as he was he would not be afraid,  
To prove against them both that he had said.   

30  
Sir, said Orlando to the Pagan King,  
Lend him your headpiece, and ere we go hence,  
I will this beast in better order bring,  
Or sharply punish him for his offence.  
Nay soft (said Sacrepant) that were a thing,  
The which to grant might show I had no sense,  
Lend you him yours, for I'll not go to school,  
To know as well as you to bob a fool.   

31  
Tush (quoth Ferraw) fools to your faces both,  
As though if I had been disposed to wear one,  
I would have suffered (were you leive or loath)  
The best and proudest of you both to bear one,  
The truth is this, that I by solemn oath  
Upon a certain chance did once forswear one,  
That on my head no helmet should be done,  
Until I had Orlando's helmet won.   

32  
What (quoth the Earl) then seems it unto thee,  
Thy force so much Orlando's doth surmount,  
That thou couldst do the same to him, that he  
Unto Almonta did in Aspramount?  
Rather I think, if thou his face should see,  
Thou wouldst so far be wide of thine account,  
That thou wouldst tremble over all thy body,  
And yield thyself and armour like a noddy.   

33  
The Spanish vaunter (like to all the nation)  
Said he had often with Orlando met,  
And had him at advantage in such fashion,  
That had he lift he might his helmet get,  
But thus (quoth he) the time brings alteration,  
That now I seek, I then at nought did set,  
To take his helmet from him than I spared,  
Because as then for it I little cared.   

34  
Then strait Orlando moved in rightful anger,  
Made answer thus, thou fool and murrain liar,  
I cannot now forbear thee any longer,  
I am whom thou to find dost to desire,  
When met we two that thou didst part the stronger?  
Thou thoughtst me farther, thou shalt feel me nigher,  
Try now if thou be'st able me to foil,  
Or I can thee of all thy armour spoil.   

35  
Nor do I seek to take this odds of thee,  
This said, forthwith his helmet he untied,  
And hung the same fast by upon a tree,  
Then drew his Durindana from his side;  
And in like sort you might the Spaniard see,  
That was no whit abated of his pride,  
How he his sword and target strait prepared,  
And lay most manfully unto his ward.   

36  
And thus these champions do the fight begin  
Upon their coursers fierce, themselves more fierce,  
And where the armour joins and is most thin,  
There still they strive with sturdy strokes to pierce:  
Search all the world, and two such men therein  
Could not be found, for as old books rehearse,  
Their skins were such, as had they been unarmed,  
Yet could they not with weapons have been harmed.   

37  
Ferraw had in his youth enchantment such,  
That but his navel, hard was all the rest,  
Unto Orlando there was done as much,  
By prayer of some saint (as may be guest)  
Save in his feet, which he let no man touch,  
Take it for truth, or take it for a jest,  
Thus I have found it wrote, that they indeed  
Beware armour more for show then any need.   

38  
Thus twixt them two the fight continues still,  
Yet not so sharp in substance as in show;  
Ferraw employing all his art and skill,  
Sharp thrusts upon the tother to bestow:  
Orlando that hath ever strength at will,  
Layth on the Spaniard many a lusty blow:  
Angelica doth stand fast by unseen,  
And sees alone the battle them between.   

39  
For why the Pagan Prince was gone the while,  
To find her out, when they together fought,  
And by their strife, that he might both beguile,  
He hopes, and had conceived in his thought:  

〈…〉 against 27 book, 15 staff.  He rides away, and travels many a mile,  
And still his dear beloved mistress sought,  
And thus it came to pass that she that day,  
Was only present at so great a fray.   

40  
Which when she saw continue in such sort,  
Not yet could guess by aught that she did see,  
Which was most like to cut the other short,  
She takes away the helmet from the tree,  
And thinks by this to make herself some sport,  
Or they by this might sooner sundered be,  
Not meaning in such sort away to set it,  
But that the worthy Earl again may get it.   

41  
And with the same away from hence she goes,  
The while they two with pain and travel tired,  
In giving and in taking deadly blows,  
Ferraw (that missed the headpiece first) retired,  
And for he did most certainly suppose,  
That Sacrepant had ta'en it undesired,  
Good Lord (said he) what mean we here to do?  
This other knight hath cozened us two,   

42  
And unawares the helmet ta'en away.  
Orlando hearing this, doth look aside,  
And missing it, he doth believe straightway,  
As did Ferraw, and after him they ride:  
They came at last into a parted way,  
That in two parts itself doth there divide,  
Fresh track in both of them was to be seen,  
This of the Knight, that of the Indian Queen.   

43  
Orlando hap was to pursue the Knight,  
Ferraw, that was more lucky of the twain,  
Happened upon Angelica to light,  
Who to refresh her former taken pain,  
Fast by a fountain did before alight,  
And seeing suddenly the knight of Spain,  
Strait like a shadow from his fight the past,  
And on the ground the helmet left with haste.   

44  
But as the fight of her did make him glad,  
In hope by this good fortune her to get,  
So thus again to lose her made him sad,  
And showed that she did him at nothing set:  
Then cursed he as he had been raging mad,  
Blaspheming Tryvigant and Mahomet,  
And all the Gods adored in Turk's profession,  
The grief in him did make so deep impression.   

45  
Yet when he had Orlando helmet spied,  
And knew it was by letters writ thereon,  
The same for which Traianos' brother died,  
He takes it quickly up and puts it on,  
And then in hast he after her doth ride,  
That was out of his sight so strangely gone,  
He takes the helmet, thinking little shame,  
Although he came not truly by the same.   

46  
But seeing she away from him was fled,  
Nor where she was he knew nor could not guess,  
Himself from hence to Paris ward he sped,  
His hope to find her waxing less and less:  
And yet the sorrow that her loss had bred,  
Was part assuaged, the helmet to possess,  
Though afterward when as Orlando knew it,  
He swore great oaths that he would make him rue it.   

47  
But how Orlando did again it get,  
And how Ferraw was plagued for that crime,  
And how they two between two bridges met,  
Whereas Ferraw was killed at that time,  
My purpose is not to declare as yet,  
But to another story turn my rhyme:  
Now I must tell you of that Indian Queen,  
By virtue of her ring that goeth unseen.   

48  
Who parted thence all had and discontented,  
That by her means Ferraw his will had got,  
That she (with this unlooked for hap prevented)  
Left him the helmet, though she meant it not,  
And in her heart her act she sore repent,  
And with herself she laid alas God wot,  
I silly fool took it with good intention,  
Thereby to break their strife and sharp contention.   

49  
Not that thereby this filthy Spaniard might  
By help of my deceit and doing wrong,  
Keep that by fraud he could not win by might,  
Alas to thy true love and service long,  
A better recompense than this or right,  
From me (my good Orlando) should belong:  
And thus in this most kind and doleful fashion,  
She doth continue long her lamentation.   

50  
Now meaneth she to travel to the East,  
Unto her native soil and country ground,  
Her journey doth her other griefs digest,  
Her ring doth in her journey keep her found,  
Yet chanced she, ere she forsook the West,  
To travel near a wood, whereas she found  
A fine young man between two dead men lying,  
With wound in bleeding breast even then a dying.   

51  

〈◊〉 shall come 〈◊〉 her again in ● 19 book, ● staffee.  But here a while I cease of her to treat,  
Or Sacrepant, or of the knight of Spain,  
First I must tell of many a hardy feat,  
Before I can return to them again:  
Orlando's actions I will now repeat,  
That still endured such travel and such pain,  
Nor time itself, that sorrows doth appease,  
Could grant to this his grief an end or case.   

52  
And first the noble Earl an headpiece bought,  
By late ill fortune having lost his own,  
For temper or the strength he never sought,  
So it did keep him but from being known.  
Now Phoebus' charet had the daylight brought,  
And hid the stars that late before were shown,  
And fair Aurora was new risen when  
Orlando met two bands of armed men.   

53  
One band was led by worthy Manilard,  
A man though stout, yet hoary haired for age,  
Who with his men did make to Paris ward,  
He not for war, but fit for counsel sage:  
Alsyrdo of the other had the guard,  
Then in the prime and chief flower of his age,  
And one that passed all the Turkish warriors,  
To fight at tilt, at tourney or at barriers.   

54  
These men with other of the Pagan host,  
Had lain the winter passed not far fro thence,  
When Agramant did see his men were lost,  
By vain assaults unto his great expense,  
And therefore now he swears and maketh boast,  
That he will never raise his siege fro thence,  
Till they within that now had left the field,  
Were forced by famine all their goods to yield.   

55  
And for that cause, now summer comes again,  
He gets together all the men he may,  
With new supplies of Africa and of Spain,  
And some of France that did accept his pay,  
But that in order due they may remain,  
He points them all to meet him in one day,  
Who by commandment hither came in clusters,  
To make appearance at the pointed musters.   

56  
Now when Alsyrdo saw Orlando there,  
Inflamed with pride end glory of his mind,  
He longed strait with him to break a spear,  
And spurs his horse, but quickly he doth find  
Himself too weak so sturdy blows to bear,  
And wisheth now that he had stayed behind,  
He falleth from the horses back down dead,  
The fearful horse without his master fled.   

57  
Strait there was raised a mighty cry and shout,  
By all the soldiers of Alsyrdos' band,  
When as they see their captain (late so stout)  
Thrown down and killed by Orlando's hand:  
Then out of ray they compassed him about  
On every side in number as the sand,  
They that are nigh, with blows do him assail,  
And those aloof throw darts as thick as hail.   

58  
Look what a noise an herd of savage swine 
Simile.   
Do make when as the wolse a pig hath caught,  
That doth in all their hear cry and whine,  
They flock about as nature hath them taught:  
So do these soldiers murmur and repine,  
To see their captain thus to mischief brought,  
And with great fury they do set upon him,  
All with one voice, still crying, on him, on him.   

59  
I say the nearer fight with sword and spear,  
And those aloof send shafts and many a dart,  
But he that never yet admitted fear  
To lodge in any harbour of his hart,  
Upon his shield a thousand darts doth bear,  
And thousands more on every other part,  
Yet of them all makes no more care nor keep,  
Then doth a Lion of a flock of sheep.   

60  
For when at once his fatal blade he drew,  
That blade so often bathed in Pagan's blood,  
No steel there was of temper old or new,  
Nor folded clothes the edge thereof withstood,  
About the field, heads, legs, arms, shoulders flew,  
The surrowes all did flow with crimson flood,  
Death goeth about the field rejoicing much,  
To see a sword that so surpassed his sickle.   

61  
This made the Pagan rout so sore aghast,  
He that could swiftest run was best paid,  
And as they came, so fled they now as fast,  
One brother for another never stayed:  
No memory of love or friendship past,  
Could make one stay to give another aid,  
He that could gallop fastest was most glad,  
Not ask if the ways were good or bad.   

62  
Only one man there was in all the field,  
That had so long in virtues school been bred,  
That rather than to turn his back or yield,  
He meaneth there to leave his carcase dead:  
Old Manylard, who taking up his shield,  
Even as his valiant heart and courage led,  
Sets spurs to horse, and in his rest a lance,  
And runs against the Palladin of France.   

63  
Upon Orlando's shield his spear he broke,  
Who never stirred for all the manly blow,  
But with his naked sword again he strake,  
And made him tumble over the saddle bow:  
Fortune on virtue did some pity take,  
For why, Orlando sword fell flatling tho,  
That though it quite amazed and overthrew him,  
Yet by good hap it maimed him not nor flew him.   

64  
With great confusion all the other fled,  
And now of armed men the field was void,  
Save such as were or seemed to be dead,  
So as Orlando now no more annoyed,  
Went on his journey as his fancy led,  
To seek herein whose fight he only joyed,  
Through plains and woods, through sandy ways and miry,  
He travels making still of her inquiry.   

65  
Until it was his fortune toward night  

Here you should begin ●● read the ●ale of 〈◊〉.  To come fast by a mountain in whose side  
Forth of a cave he saw a glims of light,  
And towards it he presently doth ride:  
Then at the mouth thereof he doth alight,  
And to a bush fast by his horse he tied,  
He doubts, as ever love is full of fear,  
That his beloved Angelica was there.   

66  
e'en as the hunters that desirous are,  

Simala.  Some present pastime for their hounds to see,  
In stubble fields do seek the fearful hare,  
By every bush, and under every tree:  
So he with like desire and greater care,  
Seeks her that sole of sorrow can him free,  
He enters boldly in the hollow cave,  
And thinks of her some tidings there to have.   

67  
The entrance strait and narrow was to pass,  
Descending steps into a place prosound,  
Whereas a certain fair young Lady was,  
Kept by some outlaws prisoner under ground,  
Her beauty did the common sort surpass,  
So far as scant her match was to be found,  
So as that dark and solitary den,  
Might seem to be a paradise as then.   

68  
On her an aged woman there did wait,  
The which (as oft with women doth befall) 
This old 〈◊〉 was Gabr●● whom you 〈◊〉 but a bad 〈◊〉 the xxi book●.   
About some matter of but little weight,  
Did happen at that time to chide and brawl,  
But when they saw a stranger coming, strait  
They held their pieces, and were quiet all,  
Orlando doth salute them with good grace,  
And they do bid him welcome to the place.   

69  
Then after common words of salutation,  
Although at first of him they were afraid,  
Yet strait he entered in examination,  
By whom in that same cave they had been stai●  
And who they were in so unseemly fashion,  
That kept a comely and a noble maid?  
And said, he saw it written in her face,  
Her nurture and her lineage were not base.   

70  
She told him strait how long she there had been,  
And by what hap she had been thither brought,  
Amid her words the sighs do pass between,  
The coral and the pearl by nature wrought,  
Sweet tears upon her tender cheeks were seen,  
That came from fountain of her bitter thought:  
But soft, left I should do the Reader wrong,  
I end this book, that else would be too long.   

Moral.  In that Angelica would have chosen Sacrepant before Orlando, we may note how women for the most part in their choose follow rather some private respect, than the true worth of the men that offer themselves at their devotion. In th● so took away the helmet, with purpose to make sport with it, though at last Orlando by that means lost it against her will, we may see that things done in list, oft turn to earnest: and therefore that excellent rule of civility is evermore to be kept: 
Play with me and hurt me not,  
jeft with me and shan● me not.   

History.  In the quarrel between Orlando and Ferraw, we may see the common original of all quarrels, namely honour and women. Of Ferraw I spoke in the first book of his strength and stature, but whether it be true, or might be true, that his body should be made impenetrable by sorcery and witchcraft, I can neither assume it was so, nor maintain that it could possible be so, yet I know some that believe the contrary, and (as they think) upon good grounds: and some say it is a great practice in Ireland to charm girdles, and the like, persuading men that while they wear them they cannot be hurt with any weapon and who can tell whether the devil may not sometime protect some of his servants? but one notable example I have heard tending much to this effect: Rorie Oge (a notable rebel of Ireland) having taken in a vile and treacherous Parley, my valiant cousin sir Henry Harington prisoner, had one night his cabin or little hovel where he lay beset with one hundred soldiers of the said sir Henry his band, meaning to rescue their captain by force, sith the rebels demands for his delivery were such as sir Henry himself (being his prisoner) would not condescend unto, but would rather hazard his life as he knew he should: I say these hundred men well appointed, be set the house strongly, being made of nothing but hardels and dirt, yet the villain ere they could get in, got upin his shirt, and gave the knight xiv. wounds very deadly, and after got through them all without hurt, where a mouse almost could not have got between them: and I have heard it affirmed in Ireland, that it was with mere witchcraft.  

Allegory.  In the palace, where every one hath that he liketh best presented unto him, yet no man can enjoy it, is to be understood that he that follows his own vain desires without the rule of reason, shall ever run astray, and never attain to the true contentment he desires.  

Allusion.  In Orlando and Ferraw, he alludes to the fight of Cygnus and Achilles, who were both in like sort feigned to have been inusolable.   

  

THE THIRTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Orlando hears Zerbynos love to tell,  
Her strange misfortune and her hard adventure:  
These outlaws that in that vast cave did dwell,  
Orlando hanged, that had in prison penned her.  
Bradamant though Melissa did her tell  
Atlanta frauds, yet doth his Palace enter,  
Where she is stayed by force of atlant charms,  
While Agramant musters his men of arms.  

1  
Full venturous were the noble knights of old,  
And worthy that their same should ay endure,  
That durst with valiant heart, and courage bold  
Find cut in dens and places all obscure,  
Such as in courts we now but ceil behold,  
Fair dames, of beauty, mind and manners pure:  
As erst I told you how Orlando found,  
A brave young Lady hidden under ground.   

2  
Now in my former matter to proceed,  
I say when he had viewed her person well,  
And marked her face and haviour with great heed,  
He doth request the damsel fair to tell,  
Who was the author of so soul a deed,  
To force her in so unfit place to dwell:  
And the as plain and briefly as she can,  
In this sweet sort her woeful speech began.   

3  
Most worthy knight (she said) although I know,  
That I shall buy my speech to you full dear,  
(For sure I am, this woman here will show,  
My words to him that first did place me hear)  
Truth I will tell, though truth increase my woe,  

〈◊〉.  And make him look on me with angry cheers  
Despair hath ever danger all contemned,  
What should she fear that is e'en now condemned?   

4  
I am that Fabel that sometime was,  
A daughter dear unto the king of Spain,  
Well did I say I was, for now alas,  
I am the child of anguish and and of pain:  
Love, only love, this great change brought to pass,  
Love, only love, of thee I may complain,  
That flattering always in thy first beginnings, 
〈◊〉   
Yield'st certain loss in steed of hoped win.   

5  
Then in good state I spent my happy days,  
Noble and young, honest and rich, and fair,  
Now base, despised, poor, and wanting prays:  
Drowned in a dungeon of most deep despair,  
Thus love throws down, whom fortune hie doth raise 
Sentence.   
And mars the sport in which he is a plaire:  
He that in art of love did show his skill, 
ovid. Sentence.   
Saith love and majesty agrees but ill.   

6  
But that I plainly may declare my mind,  
Thus it fell out: my father twelve months since,  
To make a famous triumph had assigned,  
Unto the which came many a Lord and Prince:  
Now whether liking did mine eyes so blind,  
Or that his virtue did itself convince:  
Zerbin (me thought) the king of Scotland's son,  
In this same triumph honour chief had won.   

7  
The passing feats of arms I saw him do,  
In which he was compared with the best,  
His person and his beauty joined thereto, 
Gratius ● chro 〈◊〉 corport●●   
In which he far surpassed all the rest,  
Did cause that heno sooner did me woe,  
But I as quickly granted his request:  
Interpreters nor other means none wanted,  
To make the seeds to grow that love had planted.   

8  
When as these feasts and solemn shows were ended,  
My Zerbin back again to Scotland hasted,  
Wherewith how grievously I was offended,  
Well may you guess if ever love you tasted:  
But he that cannot be too much commended,  
Whose love to me no less in absence lasted,  
With purpose and with promise firm to marry me,  
Studed all means away from hence to carry me.   

9  
'twere vain he thought to ask me of my fire,  
(Zerbin a Christian, I a Sarazine)  
Our country law contrarid that desire,  
To which our loves so wholly did incline:  
This feat doth some new stratagem require,  
More heedful, secret, circumspect and fine:  
When love hath knit two hearts in perfect unity,  

●ntence. ovid. 〈◊〉 car●t effectu 〈◊〉 volvere duo 〈◊〉 Philip Sid● made it thus: ● why no selo● can that pre●nt, to which ● parties once ● full consent.  They seldom fail to find their opportunity.   

10  
An house of great estate in Bayon town,  
My father had with gardens sweet and fair,  
In which with large descents still going down  
Unto a river comes the garden stair,  
Here (if ill fortune on us do not frown)  
He means when I shall walk to take the air,  
Soon to surprise me walking in an ally,  
And so convey me to his armed galley.   

11  
But sith with him the case did then so stand,  
Not to be present at this enterprise,  
He sent me letters written with his hand,  
By Oderike of Byskie stout and wise,  
Expert in service both of sea and land,  
And wils me do as he should me advise,  
Whose faith he nothing doubteth to be found,  
As one to him by benefits much bound.   

12  
This firm and fast, and sure obliged friend,  
Of proved courage, value and of skill,  
Against the time appointed he doth send:  
And I that for their coming looked still,  
Against the time appointed did descend,  
To give him scope to work his masters will,  
And he accordingly came unespide,  
With armed men under the garden side.   

13  
I seeing them, myself most fearful sane,  
They seeing me, soon of their purpose sped,  
Those that resistance made, forthwith were slain,  
And some afraid and faint like cowards fled,  
The rest with me as prisoners do remain;  
Then strait we were unto the galley led,  
And gone so far we could not be recovered,  
Before my father had the fact discovered.   

14  
Of this departure I myself was glad,  
In hope ere long my Zerbin to have found,  
But lo a sudden tempest made us sad,  
And near to Rochel almost had us drowned,  
The master of the ship no cunning had,  
To keep the keel from striking on the ground:  
It booted not against the waves to strive,  
Upon sharp rocks the tempest doth us drive.   

15  
In vain it was to pull down all our sails,  
And on the foreboord close to couch the mast,  
No pain against the raging sea prevails,  
On land we look each minute to be cast:  
Divine help oft doth come, when human fails,  
And when in reason all releese is past:  
For doubtless I do deem by power divine,  
We were preserved in this dangerous time.   

16  
The Byskin that the danger well doth note,  
Doth mean a desperate remedy to try,  
He straightway launcheth out the little boat,  
He and two more go down therein and I,  
This done, he cuts the rope and lets her flore,  
Threatening with naked sword that he should die,  
That durst presume to give so bold adventure,  
Against our wills into the boat to enter.   

17  
The rope now cut, away the boat was carried  
By force of waves unto the shallow shore,  
And by great fortune none of us miscarried,  
So great a plunge I never scaped before,  
But they (poor souls) that in the galley tarried,  
Were drowned, the vessel quite in pieces tore,  
Where though my loss of stuff and jewels grieved me,  
My hope to see my Zerbin still relieved me.   

18  
Now being come to land (in luckless hour)  
And trusting only Oderikes direction,  
Love (that doth ever love to show his power,  
In tempering and distempring our affection)  
My good to ill, my sweet doth turn to sour,  
My hope to hurt, my health into infection:  
He in whose trust Zerbin so much relieth,  
Freezeth in faith, and in new fancy frieth.   

19  
Now whether first at sea this humour grew,  
Or else he moved was with new occasion,  
To have me here alone with so small crew.  
As from his will I could not make evasion,  
He bids all faith and honesty adieu,  
And yields himself unto this foul persuasion;  
And that he may his pleasure surely warrant,  
He sends the servants of a sleevelelle arrant.   

20  
Two men there were that had so lucky lot,  
With us into the shipbote to descend,  
One height Almonio, by birth a Scot,  
A valiant man, and Zerbius trusty friend,  
Odrike tells him that it beseemed not,  
So few upon a Princess to attend,  
And that the daughter of the King of Spain,  
Should go on foot and with so small a train.   

21  
Wherefore he wisheth him to go before  
To Rochel, there a palfrey to provide,  
And hire some men, a dozen or a score,  
Me to my lodging mannerly to guide:  
Almonio went, then was there left no more,  
But Coreb, one of wit and courage tried,  
In whom the Byskin put the more affiance,  
Because that he was one of his alliance.   

22  
Yet long he seemed in doubtful mind to hover,  
Feign if he could he would have rid him thence,  
At last he thinks so fast a friend and lover,  
Will with his friend's iniquity dispense:  
Wherefore he doth to him his mind discover,  
In hope that he would further his offence,  

Sentence.  And do as friends in our days have a fashion,  
Advance their pleasure more than reputation.   

23  
But he whose honest mind could not suppose,  
That Oderike had had so little grace,  
The fact not only threatens to disclose,  
But calls him false and traitor to his face:  
From bitter words unto more bitter blows,  
They came and fought together in the place,  
And ● in this prospect no whit delighting,  
Fled to the wood while they two were a fight.   

24  
Between them two the combat was not long,  
But ●o the worse cause the better sped,  
Whether he were more skilful or more strong,  
O●rike doth lay Corebo there for dead:  
That done, he runs the woods and seem among,  

Oud M●temer. 〈…〉  And follows fast the way that I had fled,  
I think that he god Cupid's wings did borrow,  
He made such haste to hasten on my sorrow.   

25  

His 〈◊〉 ●umors.  Fear made me swift, for sore I was afraid,  
Love made him twister run to overtake me,  
Then sore against my will my courie he stayed,  
Then sundrily both foul and fair he spoke me,  
Sometime he promised sometime he prayed,  

Oust de 〈…〉.  Sometime he threatened he by force would make me:  
With 〈◊〉, with gifts, with threats he oft did prove me,  
With ●at, with gifts, with threats he nought did move me   

26  
But when he could not with his words prevail,  
He doth resolve no farther time to stay,  
With open force he then did me assail,  
As doth a hungry Bear cease on his prey,  
And I de ended me with tooth and nail,  
And cries and skreeks, and all the ways I may,  
Not was I in mine own defence afeard.  
To scratch his eyes, and pull away his beard.   

27  
I know not if it were my skreech and cry,  
That might have well been heard a league and more,  
Or if it were their use that dwell there by,  
To come to seek some shipwrecks on the shore,  
But strait upon the hill we might descry,  
Come toward us of company good store,  
Which makes my Byskie man away to run,  
And to surcease his enterprise begun.   

28  

Prounbe.  Thus this unlooked for crew preserved me then,  
And hindered him of his umust desire:  
But I was saved as is the flounder when  
He leapeth from the dish into the fire.  
For though these barbarous and savage men,  
To touch my person did not once aspire,  
No virtuous thought did breed this moderation,  
But hope of gain and greedy inclination.   

29  
The leader of this miserable band,  
Did think his market will be raised much,  
In selling me, when men shall understand,  
He sells a maid whom none did ever touch,  
And now I hear a merchant is in hand,  
Of him to buy me if his luck be such,  
From whom into the East I shall be sent,  
Where to the soldan they will me present.   

30  
And in this sort her woeful tale she told,  
And mingled sighs with tears in rueful fashion,  
Expressed with such doleful words as would  
Have moved a stony heart to take compassion:  
It eased in part her mind, thus to unfold  
The bitter cause of her unpleasant passion.  
Now while Orlando to this tale attended,  
The crew of caitiffs' to the cave descended.   

31  
A barbarous and foul misshapen crew,  
Armed, one with a spit, one with a prong,  
Mouths, eyes and face, most ugly were to view,  
One had no nose, another's was too long,  
But when their leader somewhat nearer drew,  
And saw Orlando standing there among,  
Turning to his companion, he said,  
Lo here a bird for whom no net we laid.   

32  
Then to the Earl he said, I am right glad  
To find one so well armed in my cave,  
For long for such an armour longed I had,  
And surely now this I suppose to have:  
How think you, when my person shall be clad  
With this your coat, shall I not then be brave?  
Wherefore good sir, think not your welcome scant,  
That come so fitly to supply my want.   

33  
Orlando turning with a sour smile,  
Answered, his armour was of price too high,  
And that he greatly did himself beguile,  
That thought of him his armour there to buy:  
And as they nearer came, he stooped the while,  
And took a brand that in the fire did lie,  
And strait he threw it at the caitiffs' head,  
And laid him there along the floor for dead.   

34  
A short thick plank stood on a scrubby post,  
That served them for a board to drink and eat,  
And (for the same full heavy was and great)  
This like a coight at them Orlando tossed,  
It fell down there among them to their cost,  
They never saw before so strange a feat:  
By which scarce one of them escaped harm,  
In head, in leg, in breast, in side or arm.   

35  
So shall you see a country man that takes  
In time of spring a brickbat or a stone,  
And throws the same upon a knot of snakes,  
That he together clustered all in one,  
How great a spoil the stone among them makes,  
And those that scape, how quickly they be gone:  
So did Orlando with these peasants play,  
That glad were they that scaped to run away.   

36  
Those that could scape the heavy tables fall,  
Unto their feet commended their defence,  
Which were (as Turpin writes) but seven in all,  
Which seven were glad to run away from thence:  
But yet their flying brought them help but small,  
Orlando means to punish their offence,  
Their feet, nor yet their fence, could them so guard,  
But that he brought them to the hanging ward.   

37  
Now when the foresaid aged woman saw,  
In how bad sort these trends of hers were served,  
She was afeard, for well she knew by law,  
That no less punishment she had deserved,  

This verivous woman is spoken of again in the 20 Canto alone the 60. staff.  Forthwith from thence she stolen away for awe,  
And up and down the desert wood she swerved,  
Until at last a warrior stout her met,  
But who it was I may not tell as yet.   

38  
The tender damsel doth Orlando pray,  
Her chastity and honour to protect,  
Who made her go with him, and from that day,  

In the 23 book. Staff. 45.  Had unto her a fatherly respect:  
Now as they went, a prisoner by the way,  
They saw, whose name I may not now detect:  

Bradamant.  Now should I speak of Bradamant by right,  
Whom erst I left in such a doleful plight.   

39  
The valorous Lady looking long in vain,  
When her Rogero would to her return,  
Lay in Marsilia to the Pagans pain,  
Where every day she did them some shroud turn,  
For some of them in Provence did remain,  
And languedoc where they did spoil and burn,  
Till with her value she did them rebuke,  
Supplying place of captain and of duke.   

40  
Now on a day as she sat still and mused,  
The time of his appointment long expired,  
Doubting left she by him might be abused,  
Or that her company he not desired,  
And often whom she blamed, she strait excused,  
Thus while with careful thought herself she tired,  
Melissa whom she thought not to be near her,  
Came suddenly of purpose for to cheer her.   

41  
With pleasant countenance Melissa sage,  
Much like to those that carry welcome news,  
Wills her, her causeless sorrow to assuage,  
And good Rogeros' absence doth excuse,  
Swearing that she durst lay her life to gauge,  
He would not absent be, if he might choose,  
And that he did now in his promise haut,  
Was not by his but by another's fault.   

42  
Wherefore (quoth she) get you to horseback strait  
If you would set your faithful lover free,  
And I myself intent on you to wait,  
Till you his prison with your eye shall see,  
Whereas Atlanta, with a strange deceit  
Detaineth men, of base and high degree,  
And shows by strange illusion distressed,  
Each one the party whom he loveth best.   

43  
Each one doth deem he sees in great distress,  
His love, his friend, his fellow or his page,  
According as men's reasons more or less,  
Are weak or strong such passion to assuage,  
Thus do they follow this their foolish guess,  
Until they come like birds into a cage,  
Searching the palace with a pensive hart,  
The great desire not suffering them to part,   

44  
Now then (said she) when you shall once draw nigh,  
Where this same Necromancer strange doth dwell,  
He will your coming and the cause descry,  
And to delude you (mark me what I tell)  
He strait will offer there unto your eye,  
By help of some inhabitants of hell,  
Rogeros' person, all in woeful plight,  
As though he had been conquered in fight.   

45  
And if you follow, thinking him to aid,  
Then will he stay you as he doth the rest,  
But kill him therefore and be not afraid,  
For so you shall your friend deliver best,  
So shall your foe Atlanta be betrayed,  
In his own trap when as he looketh left,  
And fear not when he cometh by to strike him,  
Though he your dear resemble, and look like him   

46  
I know full well how hard 'twill be to try,  
And how your heart will fail, and hand will tremble  
When you shall go about to make one die,  
That shall Rogeros' shape so right resemble:  
But in this case you may not trust your eye,  
But all your spirits, and forces all assemble,  
For this assure you, if you let him go,  
You work your own and your Rogeroes wo.   

47  
The Proverb faith, one that is warned is armed,  
The which old saw, 
Sentence or Proverb.  doth prove by due construction,  
That they, that after warning had are harmed,  
Did ill regard or follow good instruction,  
Now Bradamant rides to the place so charmed,  
And vowed that old Magician's destruction,  
And that they may the tedious way beguile,  
They spend the time in pleasant talk the while.   

48  
And oft Melissa doth to her repeat  
The names of those that should be her posterity,  
That should in force, and deeds of arms be great,  
But greater in Religion and sincerity,  
Atchiving many a strange and worthy feat.  
And use both head, and hand, with great dexterity,  
In ruling just, and bountiful in giving,  
Caesar's in fight, and saints in godly living.   

49  
Now when Melissa sage such things did show,  
The noble Lady modestly replied,  
Sith God (quoth she) doth give you skill to know,  
The things that shall in future times betide,  
And means on me (unworthy) to bestow  
An issue such as few shall have beside,  
Tell me among so many men of name,  
Shall there no woman be of worthy fame?   

50  
Yes many a one (said she) both chaste and wife,  
Mothers to such as bear imperial crowns,  
Pillars and staves of royal families,  
Owners of realms, of countries and of towns,  
Out of thy blessed offpring must arise,  
Such as shallbe e'en in their sober gowns,  
For chastity and modesty as glorious,  
As shall their husbands be in war victorious.   

51  
Nor can I well, or do I now intent,  
To take upon me all their names to tell,  
For then my speech would never have an end,  
I find so many that deserve so well,  
Only I mean a word or two to spend,  
Of one or two that do the rest excel:  
Had you but talked hereof in Merlin's cave, 
For there she 〈◊〉 as the men 〈◊〉 was 〈…〉. 3.   
You should have seen the shapes that they shall have.   

52  
Shall I begin with her whose virtue rare  
Shall with her husband live in happy strife,  
Whether his valiant actions may compare,  
Or be preferred before her honest life?  
He fights abroad against king Charles at Tare,  
She stayed at home a chaste and sober wife:  
Penelope in spending chaste her days, 
Sent●●●.   
As worthy as Ulysses was of praise.   

53  
Then next dame Beatrice the wife sometime  
Of ●●dwickeSforze, surnamed eke the More;  
Wise and discreet, and known without all crime,  
Of fortune's gifts and natures having store:  
Her husband lived most happy all her time,  
And in such state as few have lived before:  
But after fell from being Duke of Millen,  
To be a captive fettered like a villain.   

54  
To pass the famous house I should be sorry,  

He calls bar 〈◊〉 be 〈◊〉 king's daughter.  Of Arragon, and that most worthy queen,  
Whose match in neither greek nor latin story,  
Or any writer else hath ever been:  
And full to perfit her most worthy glory,  
Three worthy children shall of her be seen,  
Of whom the heavens have pointed her the mother,  
Istell by name, Alfonso and his brother.   

55  
As silver is to tin, as gold to brass,  
As roses are to flowers and herbs more base,  
As diamonds and rubies are to glass,  
As cedars are to sallows: in like case  
Shall famous Leonora others pass,  
In virtue, beauty, modesty and grace:  
But above all, in this she shall excel,  
In bringing up her children passing well.   

56  

So●ule.  For as the vesseil ever bears a taste,  
Of that same juice wherewith it first was filled,  

So●ule.  And as in fruitful ground the seed grows fast,  
That first is sown when as the same is tilled:  
So look what lore in youthful years is placed,  
By that they grow the worse or better willed,  
When as they come to manly age and stature,  

Sentence.  Sith education is another nature.   

57  
Then next her niece, a fair and famous dame,  
That height Renata I may not forget,  
Daughter to Lews the xij. king of that name,  
Whom of the Britten Duchess he did get:  
Whose virtue great shall merit lasting fame,  
While fire shallbe warm and water wet,  
While wind shall blow, & earth stand firm & sound,  
And heavenly spheres shall run their courses round.   

58  
I pass all those that pass all these some deal,  
Whose souls aspiring to an higher praise,  
Despising pomp and ease, and worldly weal,  
In sacred rites shall spend their blessed days:  
Whose hearts and holy love and godly zeal,  
To heavenly joys, from earthly thoughts shall raise,  
That to good works, to prayer and pure divinity,  
Shall consecrate their lives and their virginity.   

59  
Thus doth Melyssa unto her discourse,  
Of those should come hereafter of her seed,  
And while they talked oft by intercourse,  
They in their journey onward do proceed,  
And oftentimes Melyssa hath recourse,  
To will her of Atlanta take great heed,  
And lest she should with faint and foolish kindness,  
Be led unwares in error and in blindness.   

60  
Now when they near approached to the place,  
Then Bradamant departed from her guide,  
And after she had rode a little space,  
She saw one brought with hands together tie,  
Exceeding like Rogero in the face,  
In voice, in stature, hair and all beside:  
Bound fast with chains between two giants led,  
That threttend him ere long he should be ded.   

61  
But when the damsel saw within her view,  
The lamentable state and hard condition,  
Of him whose face she certain thought she knew,  
She changeth strait her trust into suspicion,  
Doubting Melyssa of some malice new,  
Or hidden hate had given her such commission,  
To make Rogero for a greater spite,  
Be slain by her in whom he doth delight.   

62  
Is not this he (thus to herself she spoke)  
Whom still mine heart and now mine eyes do see?  
If my Rogero I can so mistake,  
I never shall have knowledge which is he:  
I either dream and am not now awake,  
Or else no doubt it can none other be,  
Melyssa? what, may not Melyssa lie?  
Shall I believe her tale, and not mine eye?   

63  
Now while that thus she thought, and thus she said,  
And in this unwise doubt did thus persever:  
She thought she heard him speak and ask for aid,  
Saying (my love) assist me now or never;  
What shall I in thy fight be so betrayed?  
Dost thou forsake me? then farewell for ever:  
These unkind words her heart so greatly daunted,  
She follows him into the house enchanted.   

64  
No sooner was she entered in the gate,  
But that the common error her possessed,  
wandering about the house betimes and late,  
Nor night nor day she taketh any rest;  
The strange enchantment brought her in that state,  
That though she saw the man that loved her best,  
And spoke with him, and met him every hour,  
To know the tone the tother had no power.   

65  

●book. ●ass. 18  But let not now the reader be displeased,  
Although I leave her in this charmed place,  
I, mean ere long her travel shall be eased,  

●mile.  And she shall see and know Rogeros' face.  
e'en as the taste with divers meats is pleased,  
So think I by this story in like case,  
The friendly reader shall be less annoyed,  
If with one matter long he be not cloyed.   

66  
With sundry threads a man had need to weave,  
To make so large a web as I intent,  
Wherefore all other matters I must leave,  
Of Agramant a little time to spend:  
Who sorely at the flour deluce did heave,  
And all his might to mar the same did bend,  
Sending for men to Africa and to Spain,  
Those to supply that in the field were slain.   

67  
Thus all on war his heart was wholly fixed,  
His new supplies with sundry captains led,  
Were come, with men of sundry nations mixed,  
With whom that no disorder may be bred,  
A day forvews and musters was prefixed,  
That every one might know his guide and head,  
Then fell they to their mustering and their viewing,  
As shall be showed you in the book ensuing.   
In this tragical discourse of Isabella (for it is in conclusion an excellent tragedy) young Ladies might take this good lesson, 
Moral  that though they make choice of most worthy men (as Isabella did) yet if it be without their parents good will, it seldom prospers, but is full of divers misadventures and hazards, that many times be the cause of their utter ruin. In that Oderike giveth place to his disordinate lust, forgetting all faith and loyalty, we may note the frailty of young men, and what unfit tutors they are for such charges, who when they have broken all the bands of faith and honesty, they think notwithstading they have made a sufficient excuse for the matter, if they may lay the fault upon (saving your reverence) Cupid In Corebo, that would not be won to consent to his friends desire in so foul a matter, we may take good example of faith and loyalty, that must neither for friendship nor kindred yield to any dishonourable act. In the execution of the thieves we may learn, that such an end is fit for men that live by robbery and spoil, and will take no honest travel for their living, as fit (to use the old Proverb) as a rope is for a these,  
The notable women that are so commended by Melissa in this book, 
History.  were of the house of Ferrara, & many of them worthy this exquisite praise that is here given them. The first he speaks of is the Duchess of Mantua, whose husband had a great victory at Tare a river of Italy, against Charles the right of France. Ariosto therefore compares her chastity with this victory, according to that excellent wise saying, it is a greater virtue to conquer ones own affections then to win cities.  
Beatrice wife to Lodowick Sforze of whom in the three and thirtieth book there is more said, only here he notes (which was true indeed) that during his wives life he lived more happy than he did after: for at her death began his misery  
Hercules of Este married Alfonso's daughter, of whom he had Alfonso Hippolito and Isabella.  
Concerning Renata, Lewis the xij. king of France married the Duchess of Britain, and had by her issue this Renata, one of whose offspring was after matched into the house of Austria, so as that Dukedom is in great danger to be gotten by the Spaniards, now that line of France that came of the elder sister is extinguished. But this is beside the book, only I thought good to touch the particular stock of some of these famous women, that my Author so much extolleth: as I have myself read of some of them in Guicciardin and Frances Vlloa that wrote the life of Charles the fist in Italian: and this I will note withal, that my author doth with great discretion commend three special virtues in the women of the house of Este. First devotion, for he allegeth that many of them entered into religion, and lived all their time denoutly, which he praiseth chiefly, though in the last place, saying. I pass all those that pass all these some deal. Next chastity. Penelope in spending chaste her days, as worthy as Ulysses was of praise. Thirdly education of children, as is likewise touched before in another place.  
The virtues that in women merit praise,  
Are sober shows without, chaste thoughts within.  
True faith and due obèdience to their make,  
And of their children honest care to take.  
Bradamant, that after Melissa's warning given unto her of Atlanta's illusion, 
Allegory.  yet is carried away with the sight of Rogero falsely represented unto her: signifies by allegory, that a Christian, having received ghostly counsel for the health of his soul, and is instructed in true belief, yet after, when the world and his own gross sense represents unto him some contrary imaginations, he thinks Melissa (that is, the preacher or instructor) doth but abuse him, and tell him a tale of Robin-hood, and so they are carried into the devils palace, where they find nothing but shadows and illusions.  
Where Orlando takes up a firebrand, and killed one of the outlaws therewith, 
Allusion.  it alludes to two like matters in Oui.  
Ecce rapit medijs slagrantem Rhetus ab aris, 
12. Met.   
Primitium torrem dextraque a part Charaxi,  
Tempora perfringit.— And in the xij. of Virgil.  
Obuius ambustum torrem Corineus ab ara  
Corripit, & venienti ebuso plagam●que ferenti,  
Occupat os flammis. Illi ingens barba reluxit  
Nidoremque ambusta dedit.—   

  

THE FOURTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Agramant mustering of his men, doth miss  
Two bands that by Orlando late were slain:  
Mandricard vows to be revenged of this,  
But by the way he haps to entertain  
Dame Doralice, whose beauty was his bliss.  
An Angel brings Renaldo and his train  
Unseen there where the Pagan did encamp,  
And sendéth discord to the Turkish camp.  

1  
AMong the fierce assaults, and cruel blows,  
That France hath felt from  
Africa and from Spain,  
In which so many men fed  
Wolves and Crows,  
That were on both sides in the battle slain,  
Although the French were foiled by their foes,  

●n the 1. book is ●s mentioned how Charlemagne left ●he field at Buriels, since w●●ch ●me they kept ●bet went and 〈◊〉 not come to 〈◊〉 battle. This Alfonso was Duke of Ferrara 〈◊〉 whom he speaks ●n the 3. book, brother to Hipolyto. Of this battle ●k Guicciard●n  That long they came not to the field again,  
Yet was this foil sore to the Pagans cost,  
For divers Lords and Princes that they lost.   

2  
So bloody was the victory they gate,  
That scant this joy did countervail that woe,  
And if we may compare things done or late,  
(Renowned Alfons) to things done long ago,  
Ravennas fall by fortune or by fate,  
In which your virtue great did flourish so,  
To win the 
* 〈…〉  field so bloody and so hard,  
With this of theirs may justly be compared.   

3  
For when the soldiers of the Spanish band,  
Whom then the Pope retained in his pay,  

By the honour of elded spur and 〈◊〉 understood ●ighthood. Pope 〈◊〉 gave 〈◊〉 arms the 〈◊〉 with ●ak●nes of gold.  Had almost got the victory in hand,  
The Frenchmen ready now to run away,  
Thou camest to succour with that noble band  
Of valiant youths, that merited that day  
The honour of the gilded spur and hilt,  
In recompense of blood so bravely spilled.   

4  
So didst thou bruise the 
* The king of A. ●gōs collars was allow and red.  Acorns rich of gold,  
So didst thou break the ●● yellow staff and red,  
So didst thou then the Flower de luce uphold,  
When as the captain was in battle dead, 
The laurel by the ancient Romans was given to him that had slain or taken above 5000 in battle. Civica corona was his that saved a citizen of Rome.   
For which the Laurel crown they ware of old,  
By just desert belongeth to thy head;  
And Civil crown, no less in honour precious,  
For saving unto Rome her own Fabricius.   

5  
Colonna named a collum true indeed,  
Unto the state of Rome and Roman name,  
Whom you by value took, and saved by meed,  
By which more honour true and worthy fame,  
Unto yourself you did procure and breed:  
Then in the overcoming all that came, 
In this battle the Spaniards deussed to have men placed in carts, & draving them violently on their enemies, disordered them.   
From Arragon, from Castill and Navarre,  
For all their spears and new devised car.   

6  
Now though we all our lives and safeties owe,  
To you that this great conquest did achieve,  
Yet our side did receive so great a blow,  
As scarce that joy this sorrow did relieve:  
And that the dames of France most plainly show,  
Whom this so bloody triumph still doth grieve,  
Witness their widows in their mourning gowns,  
And watery eyes in villages and towns.   

7  
King Lews of France had need in time prepare, 
Foys was slain as this battle.   
For captains new to these unruly bands,  
That wickedly without all fear or care,  
Of laws of God, of nature, or of lands,  
No sort, nor sex, nor age, nor order spare,  
From force of their unchaste and bloody hands.  
Christ's body in the sacrament they tore it,  
To bear away the silver plate that bore it.   

8  

Gu●●din sets down the ● orders of the soldiers at the sack of Ra●en●a.  Wretched Ravenna better had it been,  
That thou the French shouldst not at all resist,  
Thou mightst by Bresey have been warned I ween,  
Now thou a warning art for such as list,  
To shun like loss by thy mishaps foreseen,  
Not stubbornly in folly to persist;  
So Riminy and Faens were preserved,  
By marking in what sort thou hadst been served.   

9  
As now king Lews (I say) had need to send  
New captains to supply their rooms were dead,  
So then the Pagan Princes did intend  
To see their men from sundry countries led,  
And all disorders and defects to mend,  
To point them captains that do lack a head;  
First than Marsilio all his soldiers vieweth,  
And Agramant next after him ensueth.   

10  

The states of Spain are here set down in 〈◊〉 ●●stars.  The chief of those are of Marsilios' train,  
Are first the Catalins, men of great land,  
And of the best and noblest blood of Spain:  
The next that do to them in order stand,  
Are of Navarre, whose King was lately slain  
At Burdels by Renaldoes valiant hand,  
Marsilio sore laments the sorry case,  
And pointeth Isolir supply his place.   

11  

If any be 〈◊〉 ●o understand ●●se names. I refer him to the Table.  Bulligant governeth those of Lion,  
Grandomus for th● Algarbys doth provide,  
Marsilios' brother called Falsiron,  
Doth those of lesser Castille rule and guide:  
Those of Mallaga do attend upon  
Madrasso, so doth Civil all beside,  
There where as Beus water so abounds,  
As all about it makes them fruitful grounds.   

12  
T●ssora, Bari●end and Stordilan,  
Unto the field do bring their forces in,  
Granado this, Mai●rick he hath rane,  
The first to rule in Lisbon doth begin.  
Where Larbin late was brought unto his bane,  
Tessyra unto Larbin next of kin,  
Those of Gallicia Serpentine doth guide,  
Since valiant Maricold in battle died.   

13  
Those of Toledo and of Calatrave,  
Whom Synagon did lead not long ago,  
Now Matalist their government must have,  
Because that he was slain by Christian so:  
Then Pisardin a man in battle brave,  
With all the band of Salamance doth go,  
With many other soldiers of Pagenza,  
Of Auila, Zamorra and Palenza.   

14  
Those of the court and of Marsilios' train,  

Ferra●.  With those of Saragose, Ferraw doth guide,  
The chiefest flower, and the chief host of Spain,  
Well armed, well horsed, well furnished beside,  
With whom two kings that late had lost their rain,  
Morgant and Malsatise did there abide,  
And in the state of private men remained,  
And were by him most friendly entertained.   

15  
The name of many a Duke, and Lord and Knight,  
For brevity I purpose to omit,  
Such as were stout and hardy men in fight,  
Such as were wise and politic in wit,  
With th'earl of Sagunt Archidant that height,  
Langiran, Ammirant and Malagit:  
There was great Fulliron, Marsilios' bastard,  
That in that fight did show himself no dastard.   

16  
After the Spanish host was viewed and passed, 
Agr●●●ts 〈◊〉 star of African Note that the word past. in used 〈◊〉 there sundry ●●ces, down in the Apology.   
Before king Agramant, the next that came,  
Was one that all the rest in stature past,  
The governor and king of great Orane,  
Then came a band, whose leader small time passed,  
At Burdels field was brought unto his bane,  
Lamenting that the king of Garamant  
Was conquered by the Lady Bradamant.   

17  
Then came the third, and that a headless crew,  
Whose captain Argust was in battle slain,  
To this the second and the fourth, a new  
King Agramant doth leaders fresh ordain.  
But few there were that for these rooms did sew,  
So few sufficient men there did remain;  
Buraldo and Argonio for the best,  
And Ormida he chose among the rest.   

18  
Then came Brunello with a chearlesse face, 
Brunt●●●.   
And look for shame still fixed on the ground,  
For late he fell in Agramants disgrace,  
Who doubted that his faith had not been sound,  
Ere since he went unto th'enchanted place, 
Of this look be●● in the beginning of the ●● 〈◊〉.   
Where to a tree dame Bradamant him bound,  
Because he lost his ring, whose loss so grieved him,  
That though he told him true, he not believed him.   

19  
But Isolir the brother of Ferraw,  
That was the first that found him and untied him,  
Avouched to Agramant the thing he saw,  
How there by force some enemy had tie him,  
So as the King his anger did withdraw,  
Although he never after well could bide him,  
But swore the next offence that he committed,  
An halter should unto his neck be fitted.   

20  
With those of Esperie came Soridano,  
And D●ribon did come with those of set,  
With those of Nasomanie Prusiano,  
King Agricalt Amonios' charge did get,  
Malabusers came with them of Fisano,  
The rest doth Pinadure in order set,  
Ballastro those that followed erst Tardocco,  
Those of Canaria and of Morocco.   

21  
From Mulga and Arsilla others came,  
The first their former captain still doth hold,  
Unto the next the King a new doth name,  
One Corineus a trusty man and bold,  
Then Balivesse a man of evil fame,  
Clarindo next of whom great deeds ar● old, 
Sobr●●●.   
Sobrino next a man of elder age,  
In all the camp was none more wise and sage.   

22  
Those of Getulia came with Rimedont.  
With Maribaldo those of Bolga went,  
And those of Cos●a came with Balnifront,  
Their former Lord his life in battle spent:  
Then came the king of Algiers 
* ●od●mont a 〈◊〉 T●rze●●● 〈…〉 in the took ● was king of ●●ier, & 〈…〉 A. 〈◊〉.  Rodomont,  
That lately into Turkey had been sent,  
To bring some new supplies of horse and men,  
And back again was new returned as then.   

23  
In all the camp was not a man more stout,  
In all the camp was not a man more strong,  
Nor one of whom the French stood more in doubt,  
Was there the Turkish army all among,  
In Agramants nor in Marsilios' rout,  
Nor all the followers did to them belong.  
Beside he was (which made them dread him chief)  
The greatest enemy to our belief.   

24  
Then Puliano came, a gallant king,  
And Agramantes cousin Dardanell,  
Whether some Owl did at their window sing,  
Or other luckless bird I cannot tell,  
As oft we see it is an usual thing,  
That some presage ones mischief shall foretell;  
But sure it was prefixed in heaven on high,  
What time and hour next day they both should die.   

25  
Now all their bands were mustered saving two,  
Those of Noritia and of Tremisen,  
King Agramant doth marvel what they do,  
He knows not where to hear of them nor when:  
Now as he was dispatching hereunto  
Some messenger, behold one of the men,  
That served the king of Tremisen, in haste  
Came and discovered all that had been past.   

26  
Sir king (quoth he) by fortune and ill chance,  
The noble kings Alsird and Manilard,  

〈◊〉 Canto 12. 〈◊〉 l●●ter end.  Happened to meet a cruel knight of France,  
While with their bands they traveled hither ward,  
He overthrew them both, (oh hard mischance)  
And killed, and spoiled, and drove away their guard,  
And sure (quoth he) I think his force is such,  
To all your camp he would have done as much.   

27  
Among the rest that to this tale gave ear,  
There was a Prince that late from Africa came,  
To whom king Agramant great love did bear,  

〈◊〉.  And Mandricardo was the Prince's name,  
His heart was stout, and far from any fear,  
His body strong and able to the same,  
And that which greatest glory did him yield,  
He had in Sorry conquered Hector's shield.   

28  
Now that the messenger his tale had done,  
Which made the hearer's hearts for sorrow cold,  
This valiant Prince king Agricanes son,  
Strait was resolved (with heart and courage bold,  
That to win praise no pain did ever shun,  
Although his purpose secret he de did hold,  
To be revenged on this bloody knight,  
That had to many slain and put to flight.   

29  
He asked the messenger what clothes he ware,  
And in what ●●●tourd garments he was clad?  
Black (quoth the messenger) his raiments are,  
No plume nor bravery his helmet had:  
And true it was, Orlando's inward care,  
That made his heart so sorrowful and sad,  
Caused that his armour and his open shoes,  
Had like resemblance of his inward woes.   

30  
Marsilio had before a day or twain, 
Look hereof is the Allusion.   
Given unto Mandricard a gallant steed,  
His colour bay, but black his tail and main,  
Of Frizland was the dame that did him breed,  
The Sire was a villain brave of Spain:  
On this brave beast this brave man mounts with speed, 
A race of horses in Spain, called villain di Spagna interior to the gins.   
Swearing he will not to the camp turn back,  
Till he had found the champion all in black.   

31  
He meets the silly people in the way,  
Halting, or maimed, or weeping for their friends,  
Their woeful looks, their fearful hearts bewray,  
(Weeping in such a loss but small amends)  
But when he came where the dead bodies lay,  
In viewing of their wounds some time he spends,  
As witnesses of his strong hand that gave them,  
Him he envies, and pities them that have them.   

32  
e'en as a Wolf, by pinching famine led, 
Simile.   
That in the field a carreu beast doth find,  
On which before the dogs and rau'ns have fed,  
And nothing left but horns and bones behind,  
Stands still, and gazeth on the carcase dead:  
So at this sight the Pagan Prince repined,  
And curseth oft, and calls himself a beast,  
For coming tardy to so rich a feast.   

33  
But when the mourning knight not here he found,  
From thence he traveled many a weary mile,  
Until he found a meadow compassed round,  
With running streams that almost made an Isle,  
Save one small entrance left of solid ground,  
Which guarded was with armed men that while,  
Of whom the Pagan asketh why they stand,  
To guard the place with weapons in their hand.   

34  
Their captain viewing well his brave attire,  
Doth think he was a man of great regard,  
And said king Stordilano did then hire, 
Doraly●e.   
Into these parts his daughter dear to guard,  
Espoused to king of Sarza by her Sire,  
Who shortly for the marriage prepared:  
And here (quoth he) we do this passage keep,  
That none may trouble her while she doth sleep.   

35  
To morrow to the camp we mind to go,  
Where she unto her father shall be brought,  
Who means on Rodomont her to bestow,  
By whom this noble match is greatly sought.  
Now when the captain had him answered so,  
This Prince that setteth all the world at nought,  
Why then (quoth he) this maid be like is fair,  
I pray thee cause her hither to repair.   

36  
My haste is great, but were it greater far,  
Yet would I stay to see a pretty maid:  
Alas you miss your mark, your aim doth arr,  
(Gentle sir fool) to him the captain said:  
Thus first they 'gan with bitter words to jar,  
And then from blows but little time they stayed,  
For strait the Prince did set his spear in rest,  
And smote there with the captain through the breast.   

37  
And strait ways he recovered his spear,  
And at the next that came there with doth run,  
For why none other weapon he did wear,  
Since he the Trojan Hector's armour won,  
At what time he most solemnly did swear,  
To win the sword worn by Traianos' son,  
Caldoro Durindan, a blade of temper rare,  
That Hector erst, and now Orlando bare.   

38  
Great was the force of this Tartarian knight,  
That with his spear and weapon none beside,  
Durst with so many joined together fight:  
Yet sets he spurs to horse, and sloutly cried,  
Where is a man that dare withstand my might  
Who dares forbid me where I list to ride?  
And with that spear himself he so besturd,  
That small prevailed against him bill or sword.   

39  
But when his spear in pieces burst he saw,  
The trunchen huge he takes in both his hands,  
His blows were such, not blood but life to draw,  
All dead or fled, not one his force withstands:  

Simile.  As Hebrew Samson with the Assesiaw,  
Did heap● on heaps the proud Philisten bands,  
So Mandricard sinote oft with so great force,  
As one stroke killed both horseman and his horse.   

40  
Now though they took this thing in high disdain,  
To be thus conquered with a broken stick,  
Yet when they learned had unto their pain,  
It was in vain against the wall to kick,  
Though unrevenged lie their fellows slain,  
They leave the dead, rather than lose the quick:  
But he so eager was to kill and slay,  
That scant he suffered one to scape away.   

41  

Simile. 〈…〉  And as the reeds in marshes and lakes,  
Dried with the sun, or stubble in the field,  
When as by hap the fire among it takes,  
May not itself, against that fury shield;  
Fu'n so this crew, but small resistance makes,  
And e'en of force is d●u'n at last to yield,  
And leave her undefended to their shame,  
For whose defence they from Granata came.   

42  
Now when the passage open did appear,  
He hastens in the Lady fair to see,  
Whom he doth find in sad and mourning cheer,  
And leaning of her head against a tree,  
Al● down her cheeks ran streams of crystal clear  
She makes such moan as greater could not be,  
And in her countenance was plainly shown,  
Great grief for others harms, fear of her own.   

43  
Her fear increased when as he nearer drew,  
With visage stern and all with blood distained,  
The cries were great of her and of her crew,  
That to their gods of their ill haps complained,  
For why, beside the guard whom late he slew,  
She had, that privately with her remained,  
Laund'rers and nurses, playfellows and teachers,  
With learned Physicians, and heathenish Preachers.   

44  
Now when the Pagan Prince saw that fair face,  
Whose fairer was not to be found in Spain,  
He thinks if weeping give her such a grace,  
What will ash prove when she shall smile again?  
He deemeth Paradise not like this place,  
And of his victory he seeks this gain,  
To have his prisoner suffer him to woe her,  
And yield himself a prisoner unto her.   

45  
Howbeed he maketh her against her mind,  
Upon her ambling nag with him to ride,  
Her masters, maids, and servants left behind,  
And promised them he will for her provide,  
He will be servitor, and nurse, and hind,  
And playfellow, and governor, and guide,  
Adieu my friends (quoth he) I you enlarge,  
For of your Mistress I will take the charge.   

46  
The woeful folk all mourning part away,  
With scalding sighs, cold hearts and watery eyes,  
And one unto another thus they say,  
How deep revenge will her stout spouse devise,  
How will he rage to lose so fair a prey?  
Oh that he had been at this enterprise,  
No doubt but he would quickly wreak this slaughter  
And bring again king Stordilanos daughter.   

47  
Of this fair pray the Prince was well paid,  
Which fortune gate him joined to his might,  
And now it seemed his haste was well alaid,  
That late he made to meet the mourning knight,  
Before he road in post, but now he stayed,  
Bethinking where to rest himself that night,  
To find a place was now his whole desire,  
Where he might quench his lately kindled fire.   

48  
And first to comfort and assuage the pain,  
Of Lady Doralyce (so was her name●)  
He frames a tale and most thereof doth feign,  
And swears that he alured by her fame,  
Had purposely forsook his home and reign, 
M●   
And for her love into these quarters came,  
Not that he ought to France and Spain that duty,  
But only to the beams of her rare beauty.   

49  
If love deserveth love (quoth he) than I,  
Deserve your liking that have loved you long,  
If stock you do esteem, my stock is high,  
Sith I am son to Agrican the strong,  
If state may stand in steed, who can deny,  
To God alone our homage doth belong?  
If value in your choice be of behoof,  
I think this day thereof I have showed proof.   

50  
These words and such as love had then him taught,  
Who lent him eloquence to serve his turn,  
So sweetly in her tender fancy wrought,  
That in a little while she ceased to mourn,  
And first her fear assuaged, and then her thought,  
A pleasing look doth to her eye return,  
By which the Prince (in love no novice) guest,  
That she ere long would grant him his request.   

51  
Now doth the night approach, and Phoebus facé  
In Ocean sea begins itself to hide,  
The which did cause them somewhat mend their pace  
And on their way with greater speed to ride:  
And now they traveled had but little space,  

●gil. Etiam ●ma procul ●arum cul●● sumant.  When first a smoke and then a light they spied,  
Then came they where they heard the bandogs bark  
When as the air was now obscure and dark.   

52  
A few poor cottages where herdmen dwell,  
They find, and there together they alight,  
The houses poor, but such as very well  
Might serve them to repose them for a night,  
Their fare was mean, fit hunger to expel,  
To which the herdmen friendly them invite,  
As courtesy oft times in simple bowers  

〈◊〉.  Is found as great as in the stately towers.   

53  
But after supper what did pass between  
Dame Doralyce and Agricanes hair,  
May not be told, because it was not seen,  
But they may guess, that have with Ladies fair  
By night alone in place convenient been,  
Where to disturb them no man did repair,  
I doubt he did not so his passion bridle,  
To let so fair a dame lie by him idle.   

54  
But sure I am when day light did appear,  
They both arose well pleased and well content,  
And thanked the herdmen for their friendly cheer,  
And so from thence they both together went,  
Until they came unto a river clear,  

● follows in ●xxij book, ●● staff.  Before the forenoon of the day was spent,  
And riding down along the river side,  
Two horsemen with a damsel they espied.   

55  
But let them go, for why my high conceit  
Forbiddeth me long in one path to tread,  

●rement.  And calls me back of Agramant to treat,  
Who being newly troubled in his head,  
To hear there were from England succours great,  
Under the conduct of Renaldo led,  
To counsel called the Prince's sage and wise,  
Some remedy for mischiefs to devise.   

56  
They all conclude the next ensuing day,  
With sealing, ladders on the walls to mount,  
Lest dangers new be bred by long delay,  
And succours fresh hinder their first account:  
Thus Agramant, thus doth Marsilio say,  
Sobrino sage, and cruel Rodomont,  
Who to destroy Paris alone doth threat,  
And to pull down the sacred Roman seat.   

57  
And to this end they strait provide in haste,  
Innumerable ladders apt to scale,  
With timber towers upon great wheels so placed,  
As that they may approach the city wall,  
From whence they may broad bridges safely cast,  
And pass without all jeopardy to fall,  
And throw their balls compact of fiery matter,  
Then have they rams, the walls to bruise and batter.   

58  
But Charles, the day that went before that day,  
The paynim meant to do their worst and best,  
Did cause the Priests and friars mass to say,  
Did cause the people all to be confessed,  
And humbly prostrate unto God to pray,  
To save and pity them that were oppressed,  
And then they all received in Christian union,  
The blessed sacrament, that high communion.   

59  
Himself with Lords and Barons of great fame,  
(An humble fear of God in him so wrought) 
The example of the Prince doth much with the people. Charles his prayer   
In person publicly performs the same,  
And by example others duties taught,  
And calling on our saviours blessed name,  
O Lord (said he) though I myself be nought,  
Let not my sin, my wickedness and ill,  
Move thee thy faithful people's blood to spill.   

60  
And if it be thy sacred will (O God)  
To punish us for our so great transgression,  
And make us feel thy hand and heavy rod,  
At least defer this plague and just oppression,  
That by thy foes we be not overtrod,  
We that of thy true faith do make profession,  
Lest they blaspheme thy name (we overthrown)  
And say thou couldst not defend thine own.   

61  
So shall our fall make them thy law despise,  
So shall their wicked number still increase,  
So shall the power of Babylon arise,  
So shall thy sacraments and Gospel cease,  
Look on this people Lord with gracious eyes,  
Turn foils and wars to victories and peace,  
That when these dogs and runnegates be daunted,  
Thy tomb and temple may be daily haunted.   

62  
Alas our merits are of none effect,  
To pay a portion of our grievous debt,  
Except thy grace our weakness so protect,  
That our misdeeds out of thy sight be set.  
Lord heal our souls with grievous vice infect,  
Forgive our faults, our errors all forget,  
And though our sins the sands in number pass,  
Yet let thy mercy's greatness them surpass.   

63  
Thus prayed the Prince most sorrowful and sad,  
With humbleness of heart and great contrition,  
And to this prayer he then a vow doth add,  
Well suiting to his state and high condition.  
Nor small effect these vows and prayers had,  
For presently without all intermission,  
His Angel good up to our Saviour mounted,  
And there his vows and prayers all recounted.   

64  
And thousand prayers alike at that same time,  
By messengers alike to God were brought,  
When lo the goodness, and the power divine,  
That never shall, nor never vain was sought,  
His gracious care doth to their prayer incline,  
Those whom he made, and whom he dear had bought:  
Then to the Angel Michael strait he beckoned,  
Who not a little of his calling reckoned.   

65  
And thus he said, go thither strait in post,  
Where now in Picardy the Christens land,  
And so to Paris guide that English host,  
Let not their foes their coming understand,  
In this attempt shall Silence help you most,  
Will him this enterprise to take in hand,  
This done then see you find dame Discord out,  
And will her haste unto the Pagan rout.   

66  
And charge her there according to her skill,  
Among the best to sow such soul dissension,  
That they may one the other wound and kill,  
And fill their camp with brawls and with contention:  
Let some men like their entertainment ill,  
And grudge because they have no bigger pension,  
And let them all so vary out of measure,  
That they may do their Prince but little pleasure.   

67  
The blessed Angel not a word replies,  
But doth his makers holy will obey,  
Forthwith e'en in a moment down he flies,  
And where he goes the clouds do fleet away:  
But by the way he thinks and doth devise,  
Of every place where Silence find he may,  
Though he an Angel were he could not tell,  
Where this same enemy of speech doth dwell.   

68  
At last he fully doth himself persuade,  
To find him in some houses of devotion,  
That first for li●e monastical were made,  
Where godly men despisers of promotion,  
I ●well ●aire from all this worldly wicked trade,  
With minds abhorring flesh and fleshly motion,  
Where idle words should counted be a shame,  
And where on every wall they write his name.   

69  
Wherefore into an Abbey he doth go,  
And makes no question Silence there to find,  
And Peace and Charity, and Love also,  
And lowly thoughts, and well contented mind:  
But soon he was aware it was not so,  
All contrary their humours were inclined,  
For Silence in that Ab●ey doth not host,  
His name was only was upon a post.   

70  

T●● repro●● is 〈◊〉 most if them. 〈◊〉.  Nor Quietness, nor Humbleness, nor Peace,  
Nor Cha●●● nor godly love was here,  
They were 〈◊〉 es, ba●●● those times do cease,  
Now Cou● and Ea●e and Belly cheer,  
Pride, 〈◊〉 and Ang●r ● so increase,  
That silence 〈◊〉 and comes not near.  
With 〈◊〉 the Angel than doth view,  
And findeth Discord ●n this ●rew.   

71  
Her whom the heavenly King did will him find, 
Discord   
Next after Silence, her he findeth furst,  
To seek her out in hell he had assigned,  
Among the spirits damned and accursed,  
It sore did grieve his pure unspotted mind,  
Where he expected best, to find them worst,  
It seemed to him a thing uncouth and strange,  
In sacred place to find so great a change.   

72  
He knew her by her weed of sundry hue, 
Discords 〈◊〉 and descrip●●● Virgil. Ex● gaudens was 〈◊〉   
All patched with infinite unequal lifts,  
Her skin in sundry places naked view  
At divers rents and cuts, he may that lifts:  
Her hair was grey, and red, and black and blue,  
And hard, and soft, in laces some she twists,  
Some hangeth down, upright some standeth stating,  
As if each hair with other had been squaring.   

73  
Her lap was full of writs and of citations,  
Of processes, of actions and arrests,  
Of bills, of answers, and of replications,  
In courts of Delegates, and of Requests,  
To grieve the simple sort with great vexations  
She had resorting to her as her guests,  
Attending on her circuits and her journeys,  
Scriu'ners and clarks, and lawyers and attorneys.   

74  
The Angel calleth her, and bids her go,  
Unto the Turks as fast as she can high,  
Among their kings such seeds of strife to sow,  
As one of them may cause the to there die.  
Then he demandeth her if she do know,  
Within what place Silence doth use to lie,  
He thought that she that traveled much about,  
In stirring strife might hap to find him out.   

75  
I cannot call to mind (quoth she) as yet,  
That I have talked with Silence any time,  
I hear them talk of him, and praise his wit,  
And secretness to cover any crime;  
But my companion Fraud can serve you fit, 
Fraud   
For she hath kept him company sometime,  
And which was Fraud she pointeth with her finger,  
Then hence she hies and doth no longer linger.   

76  
Fraud showed in comely clothes a lovely look, 
Descript●●● of Fraud.   
An humble cast of eye, a sober pace,  
And so sweet speech, a man might her have took,  
For him that said, hail Marie full of grace,  
But all the rest deformedly did look,  
Full of all filthiness, and foul disgrace,  
Hid under long large garments that she ware,  
Close under which a poisoned knife she bore.   

77  
The Angel asketh her if she do know  
The place where Silence makes his habitation.  
Forsooth (quoth Fraud) he dwelled long ago  
With the wise sages of the Greekish nation,  
Archytas and Pythagoras (I trow)  
That chief to virtue had their inclination,  
And afterward he spent these latter yeer●  
With Carmelit and with Saint Bennet frier●.   

78  
But since these old Philosophers did fail,  
And these new saints their saintlike life did change,  
He sought new places for his most avail,  
And secret and uncertain he doth range:  
Sometime with thieves that true men do assail,  
Sometime with lovers that delight in change,  
Sometime with traitors he doth bide, and further,  
I saw him late with one that did a murder.   

79  
With clippers and with coiners he doth stay,  
Sometime in secret dens and caves obscure,  
And oft he changeth places day by day,  
For long he cannot in a place endure.  
But I can tell you one most ready way,  
Where you to find him out shall be most sure,  
〈◊〉 where as Sleep doth dwell, and out of doubt,  
At midnight you shall find him thereabout.   

80  
Though Fraud by custom use to lie and feign,  
Yet was this tale so evidently true,  
The Angel now no longer doth remain,  
But with his golden wings away he flew  
To Arabia, where in a country plain,  
Far from all villages and cities view,  
There lieth a vale with woods so overgrown,  
As scarce at noon the day light there is shown.   

81  

●ihouse of 〈◊〉.  Amid this dark thick wood, there is a cave,  
Whose entrance is with ivy overspread,  
They have no light within, nor none they crave,  
Here Sleep doth couch his ever drowsy head.  

●ub ●nesse.  And Sloth lies by, that seems the gout to have,  
And Idleness, not so well taught as fed,  
They point Forgetfulness the gate to keep,  

〈◊〉  That none come in nor out to hinder Sleep.   

82  
She knows no names of men, nor none will learn,  
Their messages she list not understand,  

〈◊〉  She knows no business doth her concern,  
There sentinel is Silence to this band,  
And unto those he coming doth discern,  
To come no near he beckons with his hand,  
He treadeth soft, his shoes are made of felt,  
His garment short, and girded with a belt.   

83  
To him the Angel goeth, and in his ear  
He tells him thus, jehovah bids you guide  
Renaldo, with the succours he doth bear,  
To Paris walls, so as they be not spied,  
Nor let the Pagans once suspect or fear  
Their coming, nor for it at all provide,  
And let them hear no incling of these foes,  
Until they find their force and feel their blows.   

84  
No answer Silence made, but with his head  
He made a sign, as who should say he would,  
And with the Angel strait himself he sped,  
In greater haste than can be thought or told,  
To Picardy, from whence the Angel led,  
That present day the bands of soldiers bold,  
To Paris walls, an hundred miles asunder,  
Yet no man was aware it was a wonder.   

85  
And Silence still surueyeth all the rout,  
Before, beside, behind, with great regard,  
And with a cloud doth compaste them about,  
No man of them was seen, no noise was heard,  
Then walketh he among the Pagans scour,  
And unto them that kept their watch and ward,  
And brought them somewhat (what I do not find)  
That made them for the time both deaf and blind.   

86  
Now while Renaldo came with so great haste, 
He returns to Renaldo in the 16 Cant. 24 staff.   
As well it seemed an Angel did him guide,  
And as he went, with so great silence past,  
As by his foes his coming was not spied:  
King Agramant had now his footmen placed  
By Paris walls, fast by the ditches side,  
He means the city to assail that day,  
On every side by all the means he may.   

87  
He that would take upon him to declare,  
Of Agramant host the certain number,  
That to destroy this City did prepare,  
Shall seem himself as frutelesly to cumber,  
As if he told what flowers in Hyble are,  
What fish in sea, what water drops in Humber,  
What stars in sky at midnight when it covers,  
The unchaste acts of close and secret lovers.   

88  
The alarm bell in every place doth ring,  
About the town with strange disordered sound,  
In Church's Matins they do say and sing,  
Some kneeling down, some groveling in the ground,  
If gold were unto God so grateful thing,  
As fond men think, no doubt there would be found,  
Enough in this extremity, that would  
Make all the saints new images of gold.   

89  
There might you see godly old men and just,  
Lamenting that their lives so long did last, 
Virg●●, Oterque quater que beats.   
And call them happy that were laid in dust,  
And buried many years and ages past;  
But gallant youths, devoid of all mistrust,  
Not with these perils any whit aghast,  
Whom enemies nor engines none appalls,  
Go to defend right manfully the walls.   

90  
Bold Barons, Earls and Dukes of great degree,  
With soldiers, foreigners, and of the town,  
Did come to Charles, and prayed him to agree,  
To let them out, and let the drawbridge down:  
Glad was king Charles their forward minds to see,  
To fight for Christ's religion and his crown,  
But yet as then he doth not think it best,  
In this one point to grant them their request.   

91  
He rather thinks it better them to place,  
The forces of the fierce assault to break,  
With distant bands a great or little space,  
According as the wall was strong or weak:  
Himself with cheerful vigour in his face,  
Unto them all most courteously doth speak,  
These he doth comfort, them he doth encourage,  
And fill the stout with hope, the faint with courage.   

92  

〈…〉 of Paris.  Fair Parislieth in a pleasant plain,  
e'en in the navel, rather in the hart  
Of France, the river cuts the same in twain,  
And makes an Island of the better part,  
The rest that doth in greatness more contain,  
A ditch and wall doth from the plain depart,  
King Agramant assaults the Western side,  
As having Westward gotten all beside.   

93  
Marsilio with the warlike bands of Spain,  
He points to keep the field in armed ranks,  
Sabrino sage and those with him remain,  
Are placed upon Sequans fruitful banks.  
Himself with an innumerable train,  
With ladders, bridges, faggots, bars and planks,  
Doth think to fill the ditch and make it level,  
And at the walls do keep unruly revel.   

94  
What should I speak of Rodomont most fell,  
Blaspheming God, not only scorning men,  
That knew to use a glittering blade so well,  
As I so well know not to use my pen:  
His deeds alone would ask a day to tell,  
That in few hours he did perform as then:  
As for the rest they came like swarms of flies,  
And filled the air with shouts and hideous cries,   

95  

A description of the a 〈◊〉 of a 〈◊〉 well defended.  And they no less provided are within,  
With rampers, bulwarks, and with double dikes,  
And where their foes to climb do once begin,  
They push them down with bills, with staves & pikes;  
If one be killed, another steppeth in,  
No man his place for fear of hurt mislikes,  
Some throw down bricks, some stones, some scalding water,  
And grieve them much with all, most with the later.   

96  
Some throw among them newly slacked lime,  
That burneth most when most it seems to quench,  
With pots of brimstone, pitch and turpentine,  
Annoying them with heat, and smoke, and stench,  
The rest are still employed, and lose no time,  
With wreathed stakes to fortify the trench:  
Thus all within were busy, all without,  
On both sides fortune standing still in doubt.   

97  
The while the king of Sarza brought about  
His own and men of divers other lands,  
Himself to show his might and courage stout,  

Rodomonts' de●●●.  That made him counted valiant of his hands,  
From Cupid● camp was not excluded out,  
But rather solely subject to such bands,  
A Lion geuls he gives in lofty banner,  
A Lady bridling him in lowly manner.   

98  
So by the beast he meant his own fierce mind,  
And by the dame his mistress fair was meant,  
The bridle was to show how love could bind  
His lofty heart, and bow it to her bent.  
He little knew, that showed himself so kind,  
How of his purchase others took the rent:  
He knew not Mandricard did plead possession,  
Of her to whom he makes this kind profession.   

99  
Strait to the walls are thousand ladders placed, 
Hearest 〈…〉 seal.   
With double ranks that two may climb at once,  
And up the soldiers get on them in haste,  
One shoulders up another for the nonce:  
He that goes slow, and he that climbs too fast,  
Are each in peril of a broken sconce.  
Their enemy's assailing still the hire,  
Their captains those that linger or retire.   

100  
Thus every one do clammer up the wall,  
For value some, and other some for fear,  
And some are slain, and some are made to fall,  
Repenting late that ever they came there:  
Fierce Rodomont alone (contemning all)  
No pain, no place for peril doth forbear,  
But rusheth on, more despratly then stoutly,  
Blaspheming God while others pray denoutly.   

101  
A pair of curates passing hard he ware,  
Made of an ugly Dragon's scaly skin,  
This armour his great ancestor first bore,  
He that to build Babel did first begin:  
(A tower whose height should with the clouds compare)  
And thought from God the rule of heaven to win:  
And to the same effect likewise he made,  
Of passing proof an helmet, shield and blade.   

102  
Thus Rodomont that came of Nimrods' kind,  
As proud and irreligious as was he,  
Regardeth not a passage safe to find,  
Or where the wall might weakest guarded be,  
But with a heart to mischief all inclined,  
Where he the same defended best doth see,  
(Protected with his shield) he makes no bones,  
To go through fire and water, darts and stones.   

103  
When once upon the battlement he was,  
Where all the wall was broad and largely paved,  
How did he slay the Christens then alas,  
How fierce he unto them himself behaved?  
His blade doth pierce their plates of steel and bras,  
All were not priests whose crowns that day were shaved,  
He killed alone so many as their blood  
Did cause the ditch to fill with crimson flood.   

104  
Beside the base sort, these men of name,  
At this same first conflict by him were slanie,  
Orgetto Duke, that late from Flanders came,  
Arnold and Hugo, two of Charles his train,  
And Lews that governed Provence with great fame,  
Walter and Denis, Hawnce of Satallaine,  
Some were thrust through, some had (past all relief)  
Their helmets and their heads clou'n to the teeth.   

105  
And some by force from off the wall he caft,  
Among the which was one Moschino height,  
That by his will would never water taste,  
But still in wine did put his whole delight  
But lo his luck was to be drowned at last,  
Within this dirty dish for further spite,  
And he that never water could abide  
In all his life, now here in water died.   

106  
Thus while that Rodomont did kill and slay,  
All that he found upon the utmost wall,  
His band of men the while had found the way,  
To pass the ditch and so the wall to scale.  
But now within another dike there lay,  
The sight whereof their courage did appall,  
For why the Christens sent such store of shot,  
As this same place did seem to them too hot.   

107  
The dike was dry, the bottom e'en and plain,  
Both sides were steep, but steepest next the town,  
At this the soldiers courtesy do strain,  
Which of them first shall venture to go down,  

● stratagem ●uch is now ●actised with gunpowder.  Within the citizens had made a train,  
With about great and cost of many a crown,  
That when the ditch with armed men was filled,  
W●h●eat and smother they should all be killed.   

108  
It cubits had in breadth thrice ten and more,  
And in the bottom there were closely placed,  
Barrels of pitch, brimstone, and oil good store,  
All matter quick to kindle, long to last.  
The captain led them all the way before,  
And thousand soldiers followed them as fast,  
But Rodomont as though he had had wings,  
Quite o'er the dike like to a grewnd he springs.   

109  
And being placed on the inner side,  
Armed and unarmed men to him are like,  
No steel there was his forces could abide,  
Death folowtheth every blow that he doth strike:  
Which when a while to their great cost they tried,  
They do of force abandon quite the dike,  
He follows slaying without all remorse,  
So sharp his sword, so furious is his force.   

110  
But when the soldiers thought the bank to mount,  
With scaling ladders, as they did the wall,  
They found themselves deceived of their account,  
For strait the fire works were kindled all,  
Whose sudden flames the clouds themselves surmount  
Which sight the Pagans greatly did appall;  
And to increase their terror and their wonder,  
It made a noise like to continual thunder.   

111  
The Christens do rejoice at this relief,  
To see their practice had succeeded well:  
The Pagans plagued, with heat, and smother chief;  
In great despair do roar aloud and yell:  
Thus twixt the noise of fire and cries of grief,  
They make an harmony most meet for hell.  
And here I mean to leave them in the fire,  
For to repose myself I now desire.   
In Mandricardo that after his great exploits achieved in other countries, 
Moral.  is still ready to hazard his person for more honour, may be observed, that ambition is as unsatiable as any other humour of man. In his wooing of Doralice, we may see how love makes men many times, not only valiant, but eloquent. In the assaulting and defending of Paris, is set down what sundry accidents happen when such populous cities come to so great extremity. In Charles that first makes his prayers to God, and after makes all provident preparation for defence of the town, we see a lively pattern of an excellent and worthy Prince, both for devotion and policy.  
Concerning the history, 
History.  I have quoted many things in the margin, as the straightness of room would permit, that the simplest reader may understand what is meant by the fourth staff: here only I will add a word of Ravenna, referring the reader that is desirous to be better informed hereof, to Guicciardin, who sets it down at large. Ravenna was besieged by the French under the conduct of one Fois, a notable captain of so young a man. The Spaniards and Pope julio took upon them to defend it, but in the heat of that assault Fois was slain: yet the soldiers either by force or by parley got into the town, and being within, they committed the notablest outrages that have been heard of, neither abstaining from rapes nor sacrilege. Concerning the Catalyns, whom he nameth foremost in the musters, they are the chief house in all Spain: and it is to be noted, that Spain is divided into five kingdoms, Navarre, Castill, Catalogna (which is now called Arragon) Portugal, and Granata. For Gallicia is counted none, because it had a king but a while. The rest of the strange names you may find in the table.  
In the description of Discord and Fraud, 
Allegory.  and finding Silence in the house of sleep, being long since banished from philosophers and divines; the allegory is so plain, as it were time lost to spend time to expound it, because it expounds itself so plainly: only I will observe one thing, in which mine Author is thought to keep an excellent decorum. For, making Discord and Fraud of the feminine gender, he still makes Silence the masculine; as the like pretty conceit is in our Cambridge Comedy Pedantius, (at which I remember the noble Earl of Essex that now is, was present) where the Pedantius himself, examining the Gramaticall instruction of this verse: Caedant arma togae, concedat laurea linguae, upon special consideration of the two last words, taught his scholar Parillus, that laurea, lingua sunt utraque foemininae generis, sed lingua potissimum, and so consequently silence might not by any means have been of the feminine gender.  
In Mandricardos' rape of Doralice, 
Allusion.  he alludes evidently to a notable villainy in the like kind, done by Caesar Borgia son to Pope Alexander the sixth. For one Caraccio a captain of Venice, having been lately contracted to a gentlewoman of good account, she came with an honourable train near to a city called Cesenna in Romagna: here Borgia with a band of men, set upon her company, and took her away by force, and neither by threats nor entreaty of the Venetian Ambassador would restore her again: the allusion holds in many parts, as first where he saith in the 29. staff. That Marsilio had given Mandricardo an horse. 
Of colour bay, but black the tail and main,  
Of Frizland was the mare that did him breed,  
The sire was a villain brave of Spain.  This notes Borgia, whose father was a Spaniard, his mother a Fleming, and he a mongrel bastard. In the one an thirtieth staff, in the simile of the Wolf, he noteth his cruelty: in the eight and fortieth staff where he saith, 
If state may stand instead, who can deny,  
Only to God our homage doth belong▪  In that he alludes plainly to the Pope that is reputed Christ's Vicar on earth.   

  

THE FIFTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fair Paris is assailed on eur'ie part,  
By those of Africa, and by those of Spain:  
From Logestill' Astolfo doth depart,  
And takes Calligorant in his own train,  
Then slew Orillo, that by Magic art  
reviv'd, when by the brothers he was slain:  
Stout Sansonet Astolfo kind doth use,  
But Gryphin of his mistress bears ill news.  

1  
TO win the field against our armed foes,  
Is counted honourable any ways,  
Although it be with policy or blows,  
Yet bloody conquests slain the captains praise,  

〈◊〉.  But chiefest honour doth belong to those,  
Whom Fortune to such height of hap doth raise,  
To have their foe suppressed and overthrown,  
With little loss and damage of their own.   

2  

●he spoke of 〈◊〉 the 3. 〈◊〉 you shall 〈◊〉 in Guye●● as large.  Such was the victory that you then gained,  
O stout Hyppolito you conquered so,  
When the Venetian Navy had obtained,  
With armed vessels all the stream of Poe,  
Your policy and value them constrained,  
With loss inestimable thence to go:  
Their mariners and soldiers all destroying,  
Our mariners and soldiers not annoying.   

3  
The Pagan ‛ Rodomont did want this skill,  
That forced ten thousand men the trench to enter,  
By his commandment sore against their will,  
Upon so perilous a place to venture,  
Where strait the smother doth their bodies kill,  
And send their sinful souls beneath the centre,  
Himself in safety sees them there a dying,  
Still swearing, cursing, heaven itself defying.   

4  

●emant.  Now Agramant an hot assault and fierce,  
Gave where he thought the same was lest expected  
He strives the walls to batter, break and pierce  
With engines strong, and rams thereto erected:  
Those kings whose names I did before rehearse,  
Brought men, some stout, & some with fear infected,  
And such as rather wish to stand aloof,  
Then wear a corselet of the surest proof.   

5  
But Agramant herein was much deceived,  
For where he thought them weak and unprepared,  
He found that manfully he was received,  
And that the king himself the place did guard, 
Charles.   
With thousands more ready to be bereaved  
Of life and limb, and such as nought regard,  
Before that they would take so great disgrace,  
As in their master's sight to lose their place.   

6  
But here I cease until another time, 
In the xvi book. in the xvi. staff.   
To tell of these assaults the hard success,  
Of damage like to both sides: now my rhyme  
Unto the English Duke I must address,  
Astolfo son of Oton whom sometime,  
Alcynas' witchcraft held in great distress,  
Who like another Cyrce men transformed,  
To trees, to beasts, and souls of shapes deformed.   

7  
You heard before how all her strange deceits,  
Melyssa sage did with the ring discover,  
And how she gave them also good receipts,  
As made them all their former shapes recover,  
How after having scaped all their sleights,  
They did no longer in such fancies hover,  
But to be surely able to resist her,  
They fled unto her virtuous elder sister.   

8  
Where when they had with comfort great remained,  
Desirous to their countries to retire,  
They asked leave of her, and leave obtained,  
Of her that never hinders just desire:  
But ere they went she friendly them constrained,  
With precious gifts to be endowed by her,  
Such guilts as were of precious price indeed,  
And all their lives should stand them all in steed.   

9  

〈◊〉  But chiefly to this English Duke she gave,  
Of secret skill a little written book,  
Containing many a precept wise and grave,  
The which of her most thankfully he took;  
These teach a man from charms himself to save,  
That in the same advisedly doth look,  
And that to find them out he may be able,  
The book had in the end a perfect table.   

10  
Beside this book on him she doth bestow,  
Another gift of as great price and more,  
A horn in which if he do once but blow,  
The noise thereof shall trouble men so sore,  
That all both stout and faint shall fly therefrom,  
So strange a noise was never heard before;  
When to the Duke these rare gifts were imparted,  
He humbly took his leave and thence departed.   

11  

Look● 〈◊〉 the Allegory.  And lest Al●●na should by force attempt,  
To bring him back or work him some disease,  
Andronica was with a navy sent,  
To waste him sat till he were past those seas,  
And virtuous So●hrosina with him went,  
To see him pass with safety and with ease,  
So good a conductor, so sure a guide.  
As was not found in all the world beside.   

12  
And thus she sailed along that Indian shore,  
And sees and ●ee●eth sight of sundry Isles,  
Those called fortunate and others more,  
That distant are, some few, some many miles,  
And for he never heard of them before)  
He asked his guide some questions others while,  
As whether from those Indian seas perchance,  
A ship may sail to England, Spain, and France.   

13  
She answered thus; to put you out of doubt,  
First know the earth itself it like an Island,  
In ●toned with waters round about,  

There is a previous 〈◊〉 beyond 〈…〉 one would for that be 〈…〉.  That compass in on every side their dry land,  
And though to this day no man hath found out,  
Nor thinks there can be any way but by land,  
Because they judge the lands length there is such,  
That it the other Hemispher doth touch.   

14  
Yet I foresee, et many ages pass,  
N●w in 〈◊〉 and masters new shall rise,  

* Sir Francis 〈…〉 the suns 〈…〉.  That shall find out that erst so hidden was,  
And that discover where the passage lies,  
And all the men that went before surpass,  
To find new lands, new stars, new seas, new skies,  
And ●asse about the earth as doth the Sun,  
To search what with Antipodes is done.   

15  
Behold I see the sign of holy cross,  
A sign within these quarters seen but ceil,  
I see where ten a thousand put to loss,  
And to th'imperial banner all do yield,  
I see in spite of every thwart and cross,  
The house of Arragon still wins the field,  
I see that fortune is disposed to lift,  
up unto heaven the name of Charles the fifth.   

16  
It pleaseth God to keep the ways unknown,  
Unto these parts as they have been and are,  
Until seven hundred years be overblown,  
What time he means to raise an Emperor rare,  
That shall both find and make them all his own,  
And one that shall most worthily compare,  
In war for courage, and in peace for justice,  
With trajan, with Aurelius or Augustus.   

17  
I see the will of heaven doth so incline,  
The house of Austria and of Arragon,  
Shall link together in a happy line,  
And be by match united both in one:  
I see a branch grow by the bank of Ryne, 
Charles the 〈…〉.   
Out of this house, as like there hath been none,  
Whose match (thus much to say I dare be bold)  
May not be found in writers new or old.   

18  
By him again Astrea shall be brought,  
And be restored from her long exile,  
And virtues that have long been set at nought,  
Shall reign and banish fraud deceit and guile; 
It was 〈◊〉 that 〈…〉 to conquer 〈◊〉 world, and 〈◊〉 to enter 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 Pope and 〈◊〉 to enter 〈…〉 and becomes Pope and Emperor both, so verse 〈◊〉 to 〈…〉, but a 〈…〉 of some 〈…〉   
For which great works by him so nobly wrought,  
God means to grant him all this earthly I'll,  
And under this wise Prince his dear anointed,  
One shepherd and one flock he hath appointed.   

19  
Which that it may the better be effected,  
He gives them Captains both by sea and land,  
That shall win places never yet detected  
And none shall dare their forces to withstand;  
Cortese first, by whom shall be erected,  
The Emp'rors' banner in the Indian sand,  
Who by his valiant hand and wise direction,  
Shall win and keep those Indies in subjection.   

20  
Lo, with the noble Marquis of Pescare,  
Prosper Colonna prosperous in fight,  
Loc him that may with both of them compare,  
Or be preferred if you do him right,  
I mean the Marquis Vast, whose value rare,  
In tender youthful years shall shine most bright,  
Like to a horse that running swiftest pace, 
Simile.   
Doth last set out, and first doth win the race.   

21  
In him shall faith and courage be so mixed,  
That when his years shall seem but young & tender  
As passing not the twenty year and fixed,  
Yet shall his fame and forces not be slender;  
On him shall eyes and hearts of men be fixed,  
To him shall towns and forts, and castles render,  
As to a Captain with such worth endued,  
As he alone the world might have subdued.   

22  

〈…〉  What should I speak of famous Andrew D'Orie,  
That to the pirates so much terror breeds,  
As Pompey so much praised in Latin story?  
This Andrew either matches or exceeds:  
What nobler name can be, what greater glory,  
Then to root out such hurtful cursed weeds?  
So as men may with safety and with ease,  
From Italy to Nilus pass the seas.   

23  
By his assistance, furtherance and his aid,  
In Italy Caesar a crown obtains,  
For which good service though he be well paid,  
Yet for himself thereby he nothing gains:  

● great praise ●need of D'Oria 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 more than his 〈◊〉.  The pain is his (ò noble mind well stayed)  
The profit to his country sole remains:  
And whereas some to rule their country sought,  
By him his country's freedom shall be wrought.   

24  
This love by him unto his country shown,  
In honour true shall more his name advance,  
Then both the Caesar's victories well known,  
In England, Spain, in Italy and France:  
For thought their enemies were overthrown,  
By valour oft, and oftentimes by chance,  
Yet this did blot their praise and make it less,  
That both their country's freedom did oppress.   

25  
Wherefore let them and others all beside,  
That tyrannize their countries be ashamed,  
And hanging down their heads, their faces hide,  
When they shall hear this noble. Andrew named,  
By whose rare temperate and happy guide,  
His country's peace and freedom shall be framed:  
And thus Andronica the Duke foretold,  
What men in future ages come there should.   

26  
The while with prosperous winds the vessels drived,  
Came first within the view of Persian shore,  
And then from thence their way they so contrived,  
They passed the gulf (so called long before)  
And there to land so happily arrived,  
Misdoubting of Alcynas might no more,  
He thanks these guide's the all the way defended him,  
And humbly to their Lady recommended him.   

27  
More woods than one, more fields than one he passed,  
More than one valley, more than one high hill:  
He meeteth the eves by night, by days as fast,  
That lie in wait poor travelers to kill:  
Of beasts, of serpent's huge he was aghast,  
That with their terror those wild deserts fill,  
But when he blew his horn they fled away,  
No man nor beast durst in the hearing stay.   

28  
He travels through the happy Arabia,  
So called for the store of spices sweet,  

phoenix.  There where the bird that burns and doth not die,  
To dwell of all the world hath thought most meet:  
Thence went he to the sea, that once was dry,  
Which Jacob's sons went through upon their feet, 
Red sea.   
Proud Pharaoh following them unto his cost,  
Himself and all his charets drowned and lost.   

29  
Fast by the banks of Traian's stream he rides,  
There where as Nilus doth receive the same,  
An horse of passing swiftness he bestrides,  
That was engendered twixt the wind and flame,  
Not such a beast in all the world besides,  
And Rabycano is this horse's name: 
Rabicano Astolfos horse of excellens swifines.   
Now as along the rivers bank he passed,  
He saw a boat make toward him in haste.   

30  
A simple hermit did the vessel steer,  
Whose beard with age was overgrown and grey,  
And when he came so nigh that he might hear,  
These words to him he fatherly doth say,  
My son if you do hold your safety dear,  
Except you mean to die this present day,  
Proceed no farther in the way you ride,  
But term over to the other side.   

31  
For if you do that fatal way proceed,  
You shall within a mile a giant meet, 
Caligorans.   
Whole stature other men doth far exceed,  
For why his height is counted fourteen feet,  
He makes a sport of every cruel deed,  
The flesh of man unto his taste is sweet,  
He eateth some alive, and some he slayeth,  
He quarter's some, and other some he slayeth.   

32  
Amid this cruelty he hath great sport,  
To use the service of a certain net,  
Which in the common way in secret sort,  
With dust and gravel covered he doth set,  
And then when strangers do that way resort,  
First if he may, behind them he doth get:  
And then with hideous outcries he them scares,  
Until they fall into his net unwares.   

33  
But having caught them once in such a cage,  
Of birth or merit he hath no respect,  
Of wealth nor sex, of country nor of age,  
No privilege from him can them protect, 
Look in the Allusion.   
Their carcases his hunger must assuage,  
Their skulls like monuments he doth erect,  
In posts and windows hanging them on pins,  
His chambers all are hanged with their skins.   

34  
Take then (my son) take then this other way,  
Where with more ease and safety you may go.  
Thanks (gentle Friar) the English Duke doth say,  
Yet can I not your counsel follow tho,  
Though danger bids go safest way one may,  
Yet what saith honour? honour saith not so,  
Let none retire with shame, thus honour seath, 
Sentence.   
The worst that can befall one is but death.   

35  
But contrary, if I may him entrap,  
As he to do to others doth devise,  
And take himself in his prepared trap,  
The good is great that hereof may arise.  
Well, quoth the hermit, God grant blessed hap,  
And send his Angel Michael from the skies,  
That may deliver him into thy hand,  
Or give thee strength his forces to withstand.   

36  
On 〈◊〉 the Duke blest by the simple Friar,  
Much trusting in his sword, more in his sound:  
And being now approached a little nigher,  
The cruel grants graceless house he found,  
●●●ond all with marrith ground and mire,  
His chambers all within were furnished round  
With skins and skulls of many a woeful head,  
Or such as evil chance had thither led.   

37  
Ash 〈◊〉 at by forest wild do dwell,  
Nail by on the heads and paws of Bears,  
And of their dangers do delight to tell,  
And call to mind their hardly scaped fears:  
So look who did in strength the rest excel,  
〈◊〉 grant kept some special limbs of theirs,  
The rest in ditches carelessly he throws,  
To 〈◊〉 and be devoured by dogs or crows.   

38  
〈…〉 is this giant's name)  
Stands looking at his gate with watchful eye,  
Rejoicing much when any stranger came,  
And namely now the Duke he doth espy,  
Not doubting but by him to do the same,  
He had to others done, and make him die;  
But first he seeks behind the Duke to get,  
And thinks hereby to drive him to the net.   

39  
When as the Duke the Giant fierce espied,  
He stand his horse and would not forward go,  
For fear left in the net he might be tie,  
Of which the hermit had forewarned him tho:  
Then blows he his horn of virtue tried,  
That in the heaters terror breeds and woe,  
Which to possessed his senses altogether,  
As strait he fled, and saw not where nor whether.   

40  
〈◊〉 with his heart he lost his eyes,  
And still he fled, and cares not how nor where,  
〈◊〉 to the place where that most strange net lies,  
Which he to take the Duke had placed there,  
Th●● has arms and all his members ties,  
Which when Astolfo saw (now out of fear)  
He lights and draws his sword, intending then  
To venge the death of thousand guiltless men.   

41  
But finding him so sure and strongly bound,  
He thought it were a base ungentle part,  
To stay a prisoner whom in bands he found,  
So as he could not stir, nor no way start:  
God Fulcan wrought this net in caves profound,  
Of flaming Aetna, with such skill and art,  
That though the wires did seem but small and weak,  
Yet could no force the same consume nor break.   

42  
I say this 〈◊〉 net then Vulcan wrought,  
When certain jealous thoughts his heart inflamed,  
His spouse the● with in Mars his arms he caught,  
And openly then made them both ashamed,  
At which prospect though many gods then laughed,  

Atque a●●qum 〈…〉.  Yet many wished in like sort to be shamed:  
She Mercury did after steal this net,  
His lovely Clora therewithal to get.   

43  
Fair Cloris who flies out before the morn,  
And sprinkleth air with smell of fragrant flowers,  
That in her lovely lap about are borne,  
From whence do fall the pleasant April showers:  
But Mercury, sith she his love did scorn,  
●ay with his net in wait not many hours,  
Till at the last by Nilus' banks he caught her,  
And there to dance la volta than he taught her.   

44  
The net in Anubs' temple he did leave,  
Where many years in safety it did bide,  
Until Calygorant not ask leave,  
And caring not what should thereof betide,  
Or this great relic did the church bereave,  
With all the plate and ornaments beside:  
And to this wicked use the net employed,  
By which the passengers were sore annoyed.   

45  
Now of this net Astolfo took a wire,  
And (like a thief) behind him tie his hands,  
Who now was meek as any could desire,  
And like a lamb by him most gently stands:  
At least the weight thereof himself might tyre,  
First having bound his prisoner sure in bands,  
He makes him carry that upon his back,  
And used him like a mule to bear a pack.   

46  
And thus he parteth thence triumphing so,  
And led the giant prisoner in a string,  
And all about the country him doth show,  
(A sight that to them all great joy did bring)  
To Memphis Pyramids he then doth go,  
Most famous for the tomb of many a King, 
Peter 〈◊〉 proverb 〈◊〉 the great Pyramid 〈…〉 furlongs 〈◊〉 thereforth 〈◊〉 in compass 〈…〉 more then in long of 〈◊〉   
More high in height then fifty times Paul's steeple,  
Then saw he Cayr so huge and full of people.   

47  
But not so peopled as they now report,  
That thousands in the streets by night do lie  
For want of room, yet builded in such sort,  
That every house is made three stories high,  
Where runnegates do dwell, that make a sport,  
Their saith and their salvation to deny:  
Of which the sultan for his own behoof,  
Keeps fifteen thousand lodging in one roof.   

48  
Thence went Astolfo to the banks of Nile,  
To Damyat a city thereabout,  
And here he heard within a dozen mile  
Oryllo dwelled, a hardy thief and stout, 
Oryllo.   
That robbed poor men, and killed them other while,  
As travelers of him stood sore in doubt,  
And (that which him with greater wonder filled)  
The common voice was he could not be killed.   

49  
Full many a thrust, full many a cruel blow,  
Of many men in fight he had endured,  
And unto many men great care and woe,  
And death itself he often had procured:  
Put his own body was enchanted so,  
As every wound he had forthwith was cured,  
I think some Fairy was his dame, or rather  
I think some Incubus had been his father.   

50  
The worthy knight this wicked creature sought,  
Until at last he came unto the place,  
Where then Orillo with two champions fought,  
The combat having held no little space,  
Yet at his hands they both had gained nought,  
Though both of them gave ●undry blows apace,  

〈◊〉 and A●●.  Their names were these that held this apparel tack,  
Griffin the white and Aquilant the black.   

51  
The Necromancer fought with vantage great,  
He road upon a cruel hideous beast,  
A Crocodile that flesh of men doth eat,  
And birds and beasts, and doth them all digest,  
Yet had the brethren thrown him from his seat,  
And ●urther had the Crocodile distressed:  
But him to wound and kill in vain they strived,  
For still his wounds did heal, and he revived.   

52  
Sometime they cloven his head by force in twain,  
As butchers cleave a bullocks with an axe,  
But strait he joineth both the parts again,  
As if they had been made of melting wax.  
Who so hath seen the Alchemists most vain,  
That work with Mercury their cunning knacks,  
Which quite dispersed, rejoineth every member,  
Would soon by this be made that to remember.   

53  
Fierce Aquilant among so many blows,  
With one, his head from off his shoulders strake,  
About he seeks and gropeth as he goes,  
And in the dust to find his head doth take,  
And finding it, he takes it by the nose,  
Or by the locks, nor more ado doth make,  
But sets it on as if it were but glued,  
And fights as if his forces were renewed.   

54  
Stout Griffin at a blow cuts off his arm,  
And takes it up and flings it in the brook,  
But he like one that had received no harm,  
Doth dive the same within the stream to look,  
Which found, he joins (I know not with what charm)  
Unto the place it late before forsook:  
Two dames stood by in white and black attire,  
The combat being fought at their desire.   

55  
These were the courteous dames that with great care  

●ding as 〈◊〉 the poet 〈…〉 as 〈…〉 ●thor fol●.  Had brought them up e'en from their swathing bands,  
For the●e two brothers did by fortune rate,  
In their first childhood chance into their hands:  
These two to Oliver Gysmonda bare,  
Though strait they were conveyed to foreign lands,  
Where these two Ladies kept them as their own,  
I need not tell at large a tale so known.   

56  
Now was the time that near approached the night,  
That makes each thing with shadow show obscure,  
So that not want of force, but want of light,  
Did cause the combat could no longer dure:  
The Ladies clad in garments black and bright,  
That (as I said) this conflict did procure,  
On this condition did them all dismiss,  
That to return next day they do not miss●.   

57  
But when that English Duke both saw and knew,  
The valiant youths Griffin and Aquilant,  
Not only by their arms he saw in view,  
But by their blows, of which they were not scant,  
He doth acquaintance old with them renew,  
And they no point of courtesy do want,  
For straightway by the Ladies he was led,  
To take with them a supper and a bed.   

58  
Then in a garden sweet they did provide  
Great store of dainty meats and costly wine,  
Fast by a cool and pleasant fountains side,  
As best agreeth with the summer time,  
The while the giant with strong chains they tied  
Unto the body of an ancient Pine,  
Lest he might hap to trouble and molest them,  
While they determined to refresh and rest them.   

59  
The board with rich and costly fare was filled,  
And yet their smallest pleasure was their meat, 
Sentence. For in deed at a wise man's board the smallest pleasure the guests have, is their cheer in comparison of the pleasing talk that happens either in mirth or gravity.   
The Knights in languages and learning skilled,  
Talk of Oryllo and the wonder great,  
To see one wounded so, and yet not killed,  
It seemed to them a dream and strange conceit,  
And e'en the wisest and most learned did wonder,  
How he rejoind his members cut in sunder.   

60  
Astolfo only in his book had read,  
(That book that taught all charms to overthrow)  
How this Oryllo never could be dead,  
While in his head one fatal hair did grow,  
But having pulled this hair from off his head,  
He should be subject unto every blow,  
Thus said the book, but precept there was none,  
Among so many hairs to find that one.   

61  
Astolfo joyful of this good instruction,  
Not doubting but by this to make him die,  
First makes some circumstance of introduction,  
And prays the brothers give him leave to try,  
If he could bring Oryllo to destruction,  
And they this friendly sure do not deny,  
Not doubting he alone would strive in vain,  
With him that late resisted had them twain.   

62  
Now had the Sun removed the night's dark vail,  
When as Oryllo turned to the field,  
And then the English Duke did him assail,  
Both fought on horseback, both with spear & shield.  
e'en than Oryllo felt his heart to fail,  
(A hap to him that happened had but field)  
e'en then some strange presage did him offend,  
That showed his days drew shortly to their end.   

63  
Their spears now broke their naked swords they drew,  
Astolfo lays on blows on him a main,  
About the field Oryllos' members flew,  
But he together gathers them again,  
And strait his fight and forces doth renew,  
The English Duke dismembering him in vain,  
Until at length one blow so lucky sped,  
That by his shoulders he cut off his head.   

64  
And having headed him so e'en and just,  
Strait with his head on horseback he doth mount  
And rides away, Orillo in the dust  
Doth grope to find the same as he was wont,  
But missing it and full of new mistrust,  
To overtake him yet he makes account,  
He ride● and would have cried ho tarry tarry,  
But in his hand the Duke his tongue doth carry.   

65  
But though his head were lost, he finds his heels,  
To spur and prick he never doth forbear,  
The headless body never stirs nor reels,  
Put sits as sure as if the head were there:  
The while the skull Astolfo pulls and peeles,  
Among such store to find th'enchanted hair,  
For in the hairs no difference was in sight,  
To know if he did take the wrong or right.   

66  
But sigh to make sure work he thought it best,  
He makes his sword serve for a barber's knife,  
To shave the skull therewith he doth not rest,  
Until he finished had the bloody strife:  
He cuts that hair by chance among the rest,  
That have that h●ld Orillo in his life,  
The face looks pale, devoid of lively heat,  
The body backward falls out of the seat.   

67  
This done, the Duke brought in his hand the head,  
Returning to the company again,  
And showed them where he left the carcase dead,  
Which when they saw with certain signs and plain  
A kind of envious joy in them it bred,  
For glad they were their enemy was slain,  
But inwardly they were displeased and sorry,  
That this sane Duke had got from them the glory.   

68  
The women also were not well content,  
That he had slain Orillo in the fight,  
Because 〈◊〉 had their first intent,  
Which was to stay these youths all means they might,  
In hope thereby some mischiefs to prevent,  
Which th●y foresaw should unto them alight:  
Strait all that country was with rumour filled,  
How th'English Duke Orillo fierce had killed.   

69  

T● have ●ard some 〈…〉.  For as in all those cities they douse,  
The keeper of the next adjoining fort,  
Sent by a Dove a letter of the news,  
From Damiat unto the nearest port,  
By which device most rare they cannot choose  
But hear and send with speed each true report:  
And thus in every country and in town,  
They do extol this English Duke's renown.   

70  
The worthy Duke the brothers doth persuade,  
From thence their courses into France to bend,  
To do the duty for which man was made,  
God's honour and their countries to defend,  
Which now the Turks and Pamims did invade,  
And near had brought the same to woeful end:  
Which counsel from so great a Prince proceeding,  
They follow strait with forwardness exceeding.   

71  
The women now with tears in watery eyes,  
Bid them farewell, and so they parted thence:  
And for they heard the holy city lies  
Not passing six or seven days journey thence,  
To take it in their way they do devise,  
To see the place, where for human offence,  
True God, true man, descending from above,  
Did die for us unworthy of such love.   

72  
And sith the way between was large and wide,  
And void of fruits for sustenance of man,  
They do good store of bread and wine provide,  
With needful things, as for the time they can,  
And on the giant's shoulders them they tide,  
Who like a sumpter horse them after ran,  
And on this sort with most devour intent,  
Like pilgrims to jerusalem they went.   

73  
Six days they traveled in their weary way,  
Nor seeing man, nor beast, nor bird alive,  
The seventh, immediate after break of day,  
In that most blessed city they arrive:  
Then visit they the tomb where jesus lay,  
When with his death he did us dead revive,  
And brought hell, sin and death into subjection,  
With suffering, dying and his resurrection.   

74  
Now while the tomb with great heed they behold,  
Bare head and feet in show of meek submission,  
And with more inward joy than can be told,  
Yet joined with a deep and sad contrition,  
That strake their hearts in awe and made them cold,  
With true remorse devoid of superstition,  
And with themselves they still continued musing,  
Each one himself in such like words accusing.   

75  
Why then, where thou dear Lord didst for our sake, 
A ●spand●.   
With water and with blood the ground distain,  
Shall not mine eyes some small amends to make,  
Shed tears in memory of so great pain?  
Oh drowsy heart that dost not now awake,  
Oh frozen heart that meltest not in rain,  
Oh stony heart that dost not now relent,  
Lament thee now, or else for ay lament.   

76  
Thus with an humble and repentant spirit,  
They tarride at the tomb no little space,  
When so the priest appeared in their sight,  
Whose office was to keep the holy place,  
Who seeing them so lowly and contrite,  
He doth impart to them this special grace,  
(Sith to amendment they were now resolved)  
Them of their sins forepast he absolved.   

77  
This done, they went about and viewed the town,  
Held in those happy days by Christian hands,  
Who striving now to keep each other down, 
A true 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉.   
With causeless wars do trouble sea and lands,  
Or losing or neglecting that renown,  
In which Gods honour and their safety stands:  
But letting this great enemy increase,  
By their ceil making, never keeping peace.   

78  
A gallant knight whom Sansonet they call,  
This city governed under Charles the great,  
Who then intended to repair the wall,  
And make the town a strong and stately seat:  
Astolfo gave to him the Giant tall,  
For strength and stature fit for such a feat,  
To serve his present purpose for the nonce,  
Unto the walls to carry heavy stones.   

79  
And Sansonet doth eke on him bestow,  
A curious belt and hangers for a blade,  
And spurs of gold, in substance rich and show,  
That for that knight were thought to have been made  

〈◊〉 George.  That slew the Dragon with a deadly blow,  
Which did the Lady chaste and fair invade:  
Thus gifts both given and ta'en on either part,  
Each from the other friendly doth depart.   

80  
Now going from jerusalem, behold  
They met a Greekish pilgrim by the way,  
That such ill news to good Griffino told,  
As made him out of temper all the day:  
It was his evil fortune, dear to hold,  
And give his heart unto her for a pray,  
That had a pleasing hue, and fair smooth skin,  
But false, unchaste, and treacherous within.   

81  
Her name was Origilla, whom of late  
He left at Constans of an Ague sick;  
And hoping now to find her in good state,  
He hears she hath him served a sluttish trick,  
As namely she had got a newfound mate,  
Not caring if that he were dead or quick:  
She thought that for her young years 'twas no reason,  
To lie alone in that sweet pleasant season.   

82  
This news his mind doth gripe, his heart doth bite,  
He mourns by day, by night he takes no rest,  
That breeds him pain that others breeds delight,  
And this torments him more than all the rest,  
He shames, and shuns to have it come to light,  
What was his grief that did him so molest.  
And this to keep it close the rather made him,  
Because from her his brother did dissuade him.   

83  
But all in vain, for he was wholly bend  
To follow her, although he knew her nought,  
Yet to himself he keepeth his intent,  
That secretly his going may be wrought:  
He vows to makes th'adulterer repent,  
Who now to Antiochia her had brought:  
But in another book I will express,  
Of his departure what was the success.   
In the beginning of this book was an excellent moral (if you observed it) showing how hurtful it is for a captain to be prodigal of his men, 
Moral.  and rash or headlong in his attempts: the former of which faults (that worthy and valiant gentleman) sir john Smith hath very gravely and justly reproved in some captains of our time, in that treatise that he wrote in defence of the use of long bows: and indeed it cannot be denied but bloody conquests are no praise to the conqueror: In token whereof the Lacedæmonians appointed, that he that won a bloody victory should sacrifice a cock; but he that overcame by policy without bloodshed, an ox: so much they preferred wisdom that is peculiar to man, before strength that is common to beasts. In Charles is to be noted the providence of a wise and valiant Prince: In Astolfo, that by the power of his horn rids the country of thieves and malefactors, we may learn to apply the talents are given us, to good uses: In Griffin, that after all his devotion at jerusalem, comes again to Origilla, we may note the frailty of flesh, and withal, that outward holiness without inward zeal availeth nothing.  
The history (set down here in manner of a prophecy) of the prosperous reign of Charles the fifth, 
History.  is too long to stand upon in this place, but iovius, Guycciardin, Vlloa, Surius, and Sleydan himself (though his enemy) do witness his great conquests, his happy discovery of the Indies, his notable captains, and the great felicity of his whole life: of which authors, because two are already in English, I imagine there be few that are like to read this, but have read the one of them, and consequently know as much to be true as I do here set down. And for the Indian voyages, we need not so much admire the captains of foreign nations, having two of our own nation that have both as forwardly adventured, and as fortunately performed them, namely, sir Francis Drake, whom I touched before, and young Master Candish.  
In that Logestilla giveth Astolfo at his departing a book to instruct him, and a horn to breed terror to his enemies; 
Allegory.  by the book is signified wisdom, whereby all charms and toys are discovered: and by the horn is understood justice, that indeed brings terror to all misdoers, and drives them out of the country. Further, whereas Logestilla sends Andronica and Sophrosina to safe conduct Astolfo, lest Aleyna should attempt any new matter against him, it is to be understood allegorically, that fortitude and temperance are the two most notable guides that we can have in this world to keep us from pleasures snares, or violent assaults. Also whereas Astolfo looks first in his book ere he take upon him the enterprise to fight with Orillus, it is to be understood, that good advice is to be taken before men undertake dangerous exploits.  
The house of Callygorant alludeth unto the den of Cacus in the seven. of the Aeneads in Virgil, 
Allusion.  
— Semperque recenti  
Caede tenebat humus, foribus affixa superbis,  
Ora virum tristi pendebant pallida tabo.   
Simon Fornatius thinks that in the person of Calligorant, he meant a subtle sophister that became an heretic, and corrupted many, but after recanting, did good service in the Church. The fatal hair of Orillus, though it be merely fabulous, yet hath it allusion to some truth: for besides that, divers Poets have written of some, whose life lay in their hair, as Nysus killed by his daughter, and Alcestis that could not die till Mercury cut off one hair: and of Dido likewise is said that Iris was sent to cut her hair to rid her out of her pain: besides these (I say) the Scripture testifies of the virtue of Samsons strength to have been in his hair, which is as strange for reason as any of the rest.  
Here end the notes of the xv. book.   

  

THE SIXTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Stout Griffin finds his subtle mistress straying,  
With vile Martano, but is pacified:  
The Turks and Christians all their force displaying,  
Do fight, on both sides many thousands died:  
Both man and house by sword and fire decaying,  
Do make a woeful sight on either side:  
Without the town the Christians plague the Turks,  
Within fierce Rodomont much mischief works.  

1  
GReat pains in love full many men have found,  
Of which myself have proved so great a part,  
As by my skill some good may hap redound,  
To such as are less skilful in this art:  
Wherefore what I affirm with judgement found,  
To breed just cause of less or greater smart,  
Believe what I set down for your behoof,  
Probatum est, I know 'tis trne by proof.   

2  
I do affirm, and have, and ever shall,  
That he that binds himself in worthy bands,  
Although his mistress show him grace but small,  
Although he find no favour at her hands,  
Sharp words, coy looks, small thanks, hope none at all,  
Though more and more aloof from him she stands  

●f this look in ●e moral more ● large. 〈◊〉  Yet so his heart and thoughts be highly paced,  
He must not mourn, no though he die disgraced.   

3  
Let him lament, let him mourn, pine, and die,  
Whom wanton wandering eyes, whom staring hear,  
Have made a slave, when under them doth lie,  
A heart corrupt, a tongue that false will swear,  

Simile.  Like wounded Dear in vain he seeks to fly,  
And in his thigh the shaft about doth bear,  
And this above the rest torments him chief,  
He is ashamed and dares not show his grief.   

4  
Such was the hap, such was the woeful state,  
Of Griffin now possessed with foolish love,  
He knew her mind and manners worthy hate,  
Yet could not he this fancy fond remove:  
His reason feign his passion would abate,  
But appetite is placed her above:  
That be she near so false, ingrate or nought,  
Yet needs of him she must be loved and sought.   

5  
Away he steals from hence in secret sort,  
Nor to his brother once adieu doth say,  
For fear lest that his brother would dehort  
Him from her love, as oft he did assay:  
And that his journey may be cut more short,  
He coasts the country for the nearest way,  
He travels all the day and half the night,  
Until Damascus came within his sight.   

6  
Fast by this town this trull he overtook,  
That lovingly with her new love did ride,  
And all old friends and lovers all forsook,  
He was her Champion, he her only guide:  
A man might boldly swear it on a book, 
Digu●m patella operculum, Or as the English proverb fasth. Like will to like quoth the devil to the coll●●.   
He were a husband fit for such a bride,  
He false, unconstant, treacherous, so was she:  
She had a modest look, and so had he.   

7  
He road all armed upon a stamping steed,  
With guilded barb that cost full many a crown;  
She ware no less magnificent a weed,  
A rich embrodied purple velvet gown;  
Thus to Damascus ward they do proceed,  
Where late there was proclaimed in the town,  
A solemn feast that should endure some days,  
For justs, for tilt, for turneyes, and for plays.   

8  
Now when the quean good Griffin had espied,  
(For whó she knew her squire would be to weak)  
Though sore paid, as scant she could it hide,  
Lest he his wrath on both at once should wreak,  
Yet as the time permits she doth provide,  
Consulting with her guide before she speak:  
And when they had agreed how to deceive him,  
With open arms she runneth to receive him.   

9  
And framing then her speech with great regard,  
To answer fit unto her gestures kind,  
Dear sir (quoth she) is this the due reward,  
My loyal love to you deserves to find?  
That from your sight I should a year be bard,  
Your sight that solely can content my mind?  
You left me grieved with a burning fever,  
But burning more in love of you for ever.   

10  
Where I your coming looked for long in vain,  
Each hour a day, each month did seem a year,  
And of your absence long I did complain,  
inquiring oft, if I of you could hear:  
Alas how full is careful love of pain?  
So sad mine heart, so heavy was my cheer,  
As being in despair which way to mend it,  
I loathed my life, and did desire to end it.   

11  
But lo how fortune when I looked least,  
Hath now provided me of double aid,  
And sent my brother, this most welcome guest,  
With whom I have without dishonour stayed,  
And now yourself whose presence makes me blest,  
For had your coming longer been delayed,  
So was my heart and soul to you inclined,  
That sure for grief I should have died and pined.   

12  
Thus flattering words where with her tongue abounds,  
Holp her in so good sort her tale to frame,  
That new on him the greater fault redounds,  
As glad he was to 'scuse himself fro blame,  
And her strong reasons founded on weak ground●,  
Do clear both her, and him that with her came,  
And makes him deemed a kinsman and a brother,  
That did his best to make this maid a mother.   

13  
So that he did not only not reprove  
Her that so trech'rously had him betrayed,  
So that he did not wreak as did behove,  
they'd alterer that false with her had played;  
But thinks it well if he the blame remove,  
Which to his charge so probably she laid:  
And as for him (love makes him see so blindly)  
He calls him kinsman, and salutes him kindly.   

14  
Thus Griffin of his love no whit abates,  
But keeps her company as with his own,  
Until they came within Damascus gates,  
Where none of them were seen before or known.  
The town was full of Lords and great states,  
The rumour of the feast so far was blown,  
Which that they might have more securely haunted,  
The king to all that came sat conduct granted.   

15  
But here I cease to talk of Origill, 
He follow 〈…〉 book 〈◊〉   
And of her mate with her as fitly met,  
As knavish jack could be for whorish gill,  
unchaste and false, as ever water wet:  
To flatter and dissemble passing skill,  
And all was fish that came into her net:  
Now here I leave good Griffin in her arms,  
And turn me to the Turkish men of arms.   

16  
I left where Agramant assaulted hard,  
A gate which he had hoped to have found,  
But weak and feeble, naked, unprepared,  
And easy to be beaten to the ground:  
I told you how king Charles the place did guard,  
Environed with selected soldiers round;  
As namely Guydons strong and Angilero,  
With Oton stout Ouolyo Berlingero.   

17  
Thus either band in sight of either king,  
Doth fight in hope of great reward and praise,  
And thinks such honour back that day to bring,  
As should themselves and all their offspring raise  
But such great store of darts the Christns fling,  
As still the Turks are foiled many ways,  
They die, and by their deaths do others teach,  
How hurtful 'tis to rove beyond their reach.   

18  
But ' Rodemont whose men consumed with fire,  
Do fill their master's mind with double rage,  
Yet to avenge theirs deaths doth so desire,  
As nought but blood his thirst of blood can suage:  
He spares not in the passion of his ire,  
Nor men nor women, order, sex nor age,  
Away do run the silly people crying,  
And leave their children, friends and wives a dying.   

19  
They happy were whose feet did serve them best,  
The fury of this cruel Turk to shun,  
For some were killed in the flight, the rest  
Unto the Churches or strong houses run,  
And lock the gates against so fierce a guest,  
That in the streets had so great mischief done:  
And of them all that had been slain in chase,  
Not one of them was wounded in the face.   

20  
But as the Tiger kills the fearful do, 
Simile.   
That but by flight cannot itself defend,  
Or as the Wolves do spoil the sheep: e'en so  
This cruel Turk their guiltless blood doth spend:  
They neither know to strike nor ward a blo,  
To hurt their foe nor yet to help their friend:  
Thus past the Pagan to S. Michel's bridge,  
And none there was his passage to abridge.   

21  
He kills alike the sinner and the good,  
The reverend father and the harmless child,  
He spills alike the young and aged blood,  
With widows, wives, and virgins undefiled,  
And though that all did yield and none withstood,  
Yet mercy from his mind was so exiled,  
He showed to such as things can truly value,  
Great signs of cruelty but none of value.   

22  
Nor doth the cruel rage and fury cease,  
With seeing of so many people slain,  
But rather still it grows and doth increase,  
Against those other that alive remain:  
Nor grants he to the Churches any peace,  
But e'en as though the walls could suffer pain;  
He maketh furious wars against the walls,  
And flings against them store of fiery balls.   

23  
Their houses all were built in Paris then,  
Of timber (and I judge this present hour  
Of brick and stone there are not six of ten)  
Which made the Pagan then to bend his power,  
To burn the houses, having killed the men:  
And though that fire do of itself devour,  
Yet he doth help the fire, and overthrew them,  
And those that lurked within he spoiled and slew them.   

24  
Had Agramant had like success without,  
As had within this wicked Rodomount,  
The walls of Paris had not kept him out,  
On which so oft he did assay to mount:  
But now this while the Angel brought about,  

〈◊〉  Renaldo stout the flower of Clarimount,  
Both with the English and the Scots supplies,  
As secretly as Silence could devise.   

25  
And that they might them more unwares assail,  
They cast a bridge a league above the town,  
And pass the river to their best avail,  
And so in battle order coming down,  
Not doubting if their footing do not fail,  
To get that day great glory and renown:  
And still among the ranks Renaldo rides,  
And for things needful evermore provides.   

26  
Two thousand horse in good Duke edmond's guide,  
And thrice two thousand archers he doth send,  
To get to Paris on the other side,  
To help within the city to defend:  
(The carriages and other lets beside,  
To leave behind a while he doth intend)  
These succours greatly help the town within,  
And at Saint Dennis gate they let them in.   

27  
Renaldo takes the conduct of the rest,  
Appointing each his office and his place,  
As in his skill and judgement seemeth best,  
Severing each band from other with a space:  
And seeing every one was prone and priest,  
As was to be required in such case,  
He calleth all the Lords and Leaders chief,  
And used to them this pithy speech and brief.   

28  
My Lords (quoth he) I need not to repeat  

●ldos oration ●8. staff. to the  Your weighty bisnesse unto you at large,  
I only say, you have just cause and great,  
To give God thanks, your duties to discharge,  
That here hath sent you, where with little sweat,  
But giving on our foes one valiant charge,  
You may obtain true fame and glory more,  
Then all your ancestors obtained before.   

29  
God, only God that gives and guides good chance,  
Hath offered unto you this good occasion,  
Your names and glories highly to advance,  
Which is in noble minds a strong persuasion:  
Behold the Kings of England and of France,  
Endangered greatly by the Turks invasion,  
Shut up in trenches and in walls with shame,  
You may set free to your immortal fame.   

30  
The very law of nature and humanity,  
Wills noble hearts to help the weak distressed,  
But more the laws and state of Christianity.  
Without your help now like to be oppressed,  
And right Religion turned to Turkish vanity,  
Of which what harms will grow, may soon be guessed  
Our temples fair with their foul idols filled,  
Our virgins (chaste by vow) deflowered and killed.   

31  
No mean, no stay, no end will be of slaughter,  
Of rapes and rapines wicked and unjust;  
No man shall keep his sister, wife or daughter,  
From out the reach of their unruly lust:  
But now if you these sorrows turn to laughter,  
And raise their honour trodden in the dust,  
They must owe you the freedoms and the lives,  
Of them, their friends, their children and their wives.   

32  
In ancient times a laurel Civic crown  
To him that saved one citizen they gave, 
Civica corona.   
If then they had such honour and renown,  
How many crowns shall you deserve to have,  
If (not a townsman, but) a noble town,  
And thousand innocents therein you saue●  
In you it lies them to preserve and cherish,  
That (but for you) in woe should pine and perish.   

33  
Which if they should (as God forbid they should)  
By these vile Saracens be overrun,  
Then were the Roman Empire bought and sold,  
The holy Church were spoiled and quite undone:  
In you it is these huge harms to withhold,  
By you alone must this exploit be done,  
Tread then this path of praise so large and ample,  
I'll lead the way, follow but mine example.   

34  
This speech by him pronounced with so good sprite,  
With voice so audible, with comely grace,  
Incensed them with such desire to fight,  
That tedious seemed to them each little space.  
And as we see in riding men delight  
To spur a horse although he run apace: 
Simile.   
So stirred Renaldo with this exhortation,  
Those of the English and the Scottish nation.   

35  
And having thus confirmed their forward hearts,  
And promised largely in his master's name,  
Great recompense to every man's deserts,  
Unto the river walls he closely came,  
His army he divides in sundry parts,  
Lest breach of order bring them out of frame.  
And with the Irish band he first indents,  
To spoil their lodgings, and to rob their tents.   

36  
The rest he thus in prudent sort divides,  
The ●award 〈◊〉 hath in government,  
The Duke of Lancaster the battle guides,  
The Duke of Clarence with the rearward went,  
〈◊〉 with some chosen men besides,  
〈◊〉 first the charge by general consent:  
This on a sudden they do raise a shout,  
And filled our side with courage, theirs with doubt.   

37  
〈◊〉 riding out afore the rest,  
(With ●●rd to do as much as he had said)  
Puts spurs to horse and sets his spear in rest,  
His only sight the Pagans greatly afraid,  
With fainting hearts pale looks and panting breast,  
They show most certain signs of minds dismayed,  
Yet stout king Pulians shows no token,  
Of heart astonished or courage broken.   

38  
But trusting to his strength, and void of foare,  
And ranging out in sight of all his band,  
He met him man to man, and spear to spear,  
He met him horse to horse, and hand to hand:  
But strait it plainly was discerned there,  
Sleight without force in little steed doth stand:  
This kind of fight was of a rougher sort,  
Then running of a course at til● in sport.   

39  
Thus was king Pulian overthrown and ta'en,  
To●●● small tenor of the Pagan host,  
Next came the king (that giant) of Oran,  
That of his goodly stature much doth best,  
But soon Renaldo brought him to his bane,  
His horse his weapon, and his life he lost;  
The horse was glad to find himself enlarged,  
And of his heavy burden to discharged.   

40  
Not was Renaldo of his sword more spare,  
Then 〈…〉 before himself he showed,  
His blade 〈◊〉 purced to the bare.  
When he his thrusts or deadly blows bestowed:  
No shields no coats of so good temper are,  
Nor cloth in hundred 〈◊〉 together sowed,  
That this same fatal blade of his withstood,  
But that at cu'ry blow it fetched the blood.   

41  
Nor did gerbino merit common praise,  
That of his value showed that day good proof,  
He met the stoutest Turks at all assays,  
On horse, on foot, at hand, and far aloof,  
Attempting and performing sundry waves,  
That might be for their harm and his behoof:  
And all his band in fight was fierce and hot,  
As is the nature of the valiant Scot   

42  
And thus their fiery heat and courage bold,  
Well showed by blows they to the Pagans gave,  
Did make their stomachs faint, their courage cold,  
And glad in th'end by flight themselves to save:  
For S●brin one in years and judgement old,  
(Though no less stout the these less age that have)  
Doth now a little with his band retire,  
To shun the fury of the Scottish fire.   

43  
The worthy Dukes of Albany and Mar,  
Ensued in valiant sort the good success,  
And with the same prevailed had so far,  
As they had brought the Turks to great distress,  
Till Isolir the new king of Navarre,  
Came with his band their fury to repress,  
And on that side the battle did restore,  
Almost now lost, at least declind before.   

44  
Then grew the fight on both sides firm and stable,  
Both sides defend, both sides alike invade,  
They cast on both sides darts innumerable,  
And make there with a dark unpleasing shade: 
Leonida 〈◊〉 same, being ● that the 〈◊〉 shot came 〈◊〉 as 〈…〉 see the 〈◊〉 them, 〈◊〉 merely, the● shall fight ● shade.   
An endless work it were to write the table,  
The Christens killed with bow, with bill, with blade,  
Sometime the sway goeth hither, sometime thither,  
Like waters driven with doubtful tides and wether.   

45  
When one is slain, his room another fills,  
When one is hurt, another takes his place,  
And he that now another smites and kills,  
* Falls dead himself within a little space: 
His 〈◊〉 deder at, 〈◊〉 longin the ● & express quas accepte● auras. O●● Met●●.   
Great heaps of bodies dead make little hills,  
The earth itself doth look with bloody face,  
The green wherewith it erst was overspread,  
Did turn to sanguine and vermilion red.   

46  
My pen would fail, and skill would be too scant,  
To tell the famous acts that Zerbin wrought,  
How his new brother. noble Ariodant,  
A fresh supply against the Pagans brought,  
And how still one supplying tother's want,  
Against the Turks with mutual forces fought,  
Then namely when the Prince was almost slain,  
By bastards two of Arragon in Spain.   

47  
Chelindo one, the other Moscow height,  
These two at once on Zerbin bent their force,  
In hope that if their hands could hit aright,  
To wound him sore, or at the least unhorsed,  
They wound him not, yet forced him to alight,  
For under him so sore they hurt his horse,  
To serve his Lord he was no longer able,  
But made the field his everlasting stable.   

48  
This foil and fall his courage more do whet,  
To lose the service of his trusty steed,  
But from the saddle quickly he doth get,  
His loss his wrath, his wrath revenge doth breed:  
He means not long to tarry in their debt,  
That to his horse did this unworthy deed,  
And first he gave to Moscow such a thrust,  
As made him tumble senseless in the dust.   

49  
But when Chelindo saw his brother ded,  
Revenge and fear in him together strove,  
His inward fear provoked him to have fled,  
Himself from danger imminent to save,  
But strait revenge another humour bred.  
Expelling fear, and makes him bold and brave,  
He spurs his horse in hope to overtunne him,  
But Zerbin slightly steps aside to shun him.   

50  
And such a blow he lent him as he passed,  
Upon his shoulders from the reredemaine,  
That horse and man unto the ground were cast,  
Whence neither of them rose alive again:  
And now the Spanish band came in so fast,  
As noble Zerbin had almost been slain,  
But Ariodante than himself besturd,  
And makes an open lane by dint of sword.   

51  
The while, the Duke of Clarence doth assail,  
Their rear that was by Baricondo led,  
The English archers shoot as thick as hail,  
Which to their horsemen great annoyance bred,  
On every side the Christens do prevail,  
On every side the fearful Pagans fled,  
Great store were slain, and many prisoners taken,  
Their battle now declined sore and shaken.   

52  
And had been lost had not Ferraw by chance  
Come to their aid as young Olimpio fell,  
Slain by a knight of Scotland or of France,  
A cruel knight, whose name I cannot tell:  
Ferraw was sore aggriueed at this mischance,  
He knew this youth, and loved him passing well,  
Because his skill in music was so choice,  
Both for sweet stroke, and for his pleasing voice.   

53  
Had not the humour of ambition vain,  
With crotchets new his foolish fancy filled,  
He might have better stayed at home in Spain,  
Then come abroad to be in battle killed:  
But thus we see they get but loss and pain,  
That deal in that in which they be not skilled,  
I wish musicians meddle with their songs,  
And pray the soldiers to revenge their wrongs.   

54  
Ferraw that saw ten thousand slain before,  
Without or fetching sigh or shedding tear,  
With this his minion's death was grieved so sore,  
As scarce he could e'en then to weep forbear,  
But he that killed him shall abvy therefore,  
By Macon and Lanfusa he doth swear,  
And strait performed it to the knights great pain,  
For with his pole-axe out he dashed his brain.   

55  
Nor so content, he runs among the press,  
And in his rage so many Scots he slew,  
That their late forwardness he did repress,  
And caused that they in hast themselves withdrew:  
Then to the tents was sent the king of Fefte,  
To make resistance to the Irish crew,  
That spoiled their lodgings having robbed the best,  
And went about to set on fire the rest.   

56  
Then when the stout King Agramant espied,  
The danger great he and his men were in,  
And how these new supplies on every side,  
Made his retire, and ground of them did win:  
To save his own in time he doth provide,  
And lets alone the walls and them within,  
Himself with Lords and other Prince's store,  
Came where Ferraw was entered late before.   

57  
And in such strength they do their forces link,  
And with such fury they restore the fight,  
That now the Scots began to fail and shrink, 
Renaldoes encouragement of the Scots.   
Save that Renaldo came e'en then in sight,  
And cried, O worthy Scots, and do you think  
To save yourselves by so unworthy flight?  
Will you so lose the honour late you won?  
Care you no more to save your master's son?   

58  
Do you regard no more your reputation,  
By you in sundry bloody battles got,  
To le●ue the flower and jewel of your nation,  
Amid his foes as if you loved him not?  
Ye shame yourselves and all your generation,  
If you distain you with so foul a blot,  
Turn, turn I say, and take some heart of grace,  
And meet and smite these paynim in the face.   

59  
They that before were sore with fear possessed,  
Were now so heartened, that with honest shame,  
Each one doth seem his safety to detest,  
Each one his mind with anger doth inflame,  
And where they left their captain half distressed,  
With this so forward guide as fast they came:  
So Zerbin rescue was from Turkish forces,  
And mounted strait one of the empty horses.   

60  
Renaldo that did ever take delight  
To set on those that were most strong and sto●t,  
When once king Agramant was come in sight,  
Him fro the rest forthwith he singles out:  
But when between them was begun the fight,  
They sundered were by those that stood about,  
I mean the Turks, who their chief Prince defended,  
Who else perhaps his reign e'en then had ended.   

61  
Now while without the walls the battle so,  
On either side with fury was renewed,  
Fierce Rodomont within did work such woe,  
More rueful sight with eye was never viewed;  
To wrack profane the holy temples go,  
He setteth fire on all, and to conclude,  
He did alone so spoil the goodly city,  
As might have moved a stony heart to pity.   

62  
And while King Charles that was far off from thence,  
Did entertain the new come English host,  
The which Renaldo sent for their defence)  
Behold there came a messenger in post,  
That looked like one bestraught of wit and sense,  
His voice with haste and fear was well-nigh lost,  
And when his broken words were pl●●●ly hard,  
Ah well away (he cries) we all are marred.   

63  
Some fiend of hell (for sure a fiend of hell  
It is that doth our city so destroy)  
Is sent from Belzebub with us to dwell,  
To work our utter ruin and annoy:  
This day we must bid all good days farewell,  
This day must be the last day of our joy,  
Lo yonder how our sacred temples smoke,  
Nor one in their defence dares strike a stroke.   

64  

Simile.  Look how a man would be amazed to hear  
A noise confused of backward ringing bells,  
And after find, when he approacheth near,  
New set on fire his house wherein he dwells;  
In such amazement and in such a fear  
Was Charles to hear the tale this poor man tells,  
And as he thither nearer came and nearer,  
He sees the buildings clearer burn and clearer.   

65  
Of hardy Squires he culls a gallant crew,  
And means to drive away this wicked wight,  
If man it be, or sprite with human hue,  
That doth unto the town this soul despite:  
Now came he where he plain might see in view,  
Men murdered, houses burnt, a woeful sight.  
But now although perhaps my story please you,  
To pause a little may refresh and ease you.   

Moral.  In the person of Griffino is described a young man besotted with love and affection of a vile strumpet, so as she easily persuades him, that he that indeed kept her so openly, as all the world spoke of it, was her brother, or her cosingerman, or some such matter as easily blinded his eyes, being bleared afore with affection: and in this kind, though I mean to touch none by name, yet I doubt not but many will feel themselves touched of both sorts; such as Griffino, that place their love in unworthy persons: and such as Martano, that under the name of kindred, are most vile and filthy adulterers, which how common it is now a days, this saying shows, turned now almost to a proverb, The nearer of kin, the sooner in: and that verse of Ovid, translated, or prettily turned by a pleasant Gentleman to this purpose, 
Tuta frequénsque via est sub amici fallere nomen,  
Tuta frequénsque licet sit via crimen habet.  
A safe and common way it is by kindred to deceive,  
But safe and common though it be, 'tis knau'ry by your leave.   
The great aphorism or maxim set down in the two last verses of the second staff of this book, was imitated by a Gentleman of our country in his younger days, 
Master Edward Dier a 〈…〉.  though a man ever of great wit and worth: his verse was this, 
Master Edward Dier a 〈…〉.  
He that hath placed his heart on high,  
Must not lament although he die.   
To which purpose, all that have written of this common place of love, and chiefly petrarch in his infinite sonnets, in the midst of all his lamentation, still had this comfort, that his love was placed on a worthy Lady: and our English Petrarke, Sir Philip Sidney, or (as Sir Walter Raulegh in his Epitaph worthily calleth him) the Scipio and the Petrarke of our time, often comforting himself in the sonnets of Stella, though despairing to attain his desire, and (though that tyrant hon●●● still refused) yet the nobility, the beauty, the worth, the graciousness, and those her other perfections, as made him both count her and call her inestimable rich; makes him in the midst of those his moans, rejoice even in his own greatest losses, as in his eighteenth sonnet, which many I am sure have read: 
With what sharp checks I in myself am shent,  
When into reasons reckonings I do go,  
And by such counts, myself a bankrupt know,  
Of all those goods which heaven to me hath lent,  
Unable quite to pay e'en natures rend,  
Which unto it by birthright I did owe,  
And which is worse, no good excuse can show,  
But that my wealth I have most idly spent:  
My youth doth waste, my knowledge brings forth toys,  
My wit doth strive tho'e passions to defend,  
With my reward (spoiled with vain annoys)  
I find my course to lose itself doth bend:  
I see, yet do no greater sorrow take,  
Then that I lose no more for Stellas sake.  And this much of this matter of love. In the conflict at Paris gate, in presence of both Princes, we may note how the General eye is a great encouragement to the soldier. In Renaldoes oration, we may observe that eloquence and learning is not only a great ornament, but sometime a great aid to a Captain. And for the speech itself, it is both pithy and methodical. For being (as they term it) of the deliberative kind, it lays down (though briefly, yet plainly if you mark it) the facility, 
History.  the commendation, the utility, and the necessity of that to which he persuades them.  
For historical matter, there is little in this book, only where he touches the weak buildings of Paris, being built so high and so sleight, it is evident they are so at this day, and doubtless it is a great blot in a magnificent city to see brown paper houses, which were a matter easily redressed in one age: as Augustus Caesar did at Rome, forbidding them to build but with stone, and making great provision for stuff and carriage for such as would build, at a reasonable price, as Suetonius setteth down at large: but this is not much to the purpose.  

Allegory.  Whereas Silence is said to be sent by God, with an Angel to conduct the Christian succours to Paris: by the Angel is meant allegorically God's assistance and grace, without which no victories can be obtained: and by Silence is understood wise secretness, to conceal our intent from our enemies, which is a great furtherance in war.  

Allusion.  For the Allusion of Martano, I refer it to the next book, where his cowardice is more largely touched.  
The end of the Annotations of the sixteenth Book.   

THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fierce Rodomont leave Paris is constrained,  
Martano at Damascus tilts most vilely,  
Stout Griffin thinks his running thereby stained,  
And goes fro thence, the while Martano slily  
Doth steal his coat and horse, and so obtained  
Great gifts, and of the king is graced highly:  
But Griffin taken in Martanoes clothing,  
Receives disgrace, each one his presence loathing.  

1  
THe most just God, when once man's sins do grow  
Beyond the boúds of pardon and of grace,  
Because that més his judgements just may know,  

Of Syll● & Marius cruelise read Plutark in their lives  No less than love, to rule on earth doth place,  

Helisgabalus sir named Varius, for his monstrous lechery, and his 〈◊〉 therein.  Vile Monsters such as tyrannize us so,  
With wrong the right, with lust they laws deface:  
For this same c●use were Sylla sent and Marius,  
The Nerons both, and filthy minded Varius.   

2  

Antoninus Bassianus slain for his beast 〈◊〉 and cruelty, for which his name 〈◊〉 so odious, that none was ever after him, so called.  For this Domician held in Rome the reign,  
And Antoninus of that name the last,  
And Massimin a base unworthy swain,  
To plague mankind in Princely throne was placed:  
For this in Thebes did cruel Creon reign,  
With other tyrant's more in ages past,  
For this of late hath Italy been won,  
By men of Lombardy, of Goth and Hun.   

3  

Of Esselin I spoke before in the notes of the third book.  What should I of unjust Attyla speak?  
Of Esselin, and of an hundred more?  
Whom God doth send his anger just to wreak,  
On us that still neglect his sacred lore.  
The times forepast long since, the present cake,  
Of such examples yields us woeful store,  
How we unthankful and unfruitful sheep.  
Are given to hungry ravening Wolves to keep.   

4  

* He means hereby Lodwickt 〈◊〉, that called in Charles the 8 out of France 〈◊〉 Italy.  Such Wolves as would not only by their wills,  
Seize all our goods and substance as their prey,  
But also send beyond the Alps high hills,  
For other Wolves more hunger starved than they: 
Thra●●● bia and 〈◊〉 were the 〈◊〉 where 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 where 〈…〉   
The bones of men that Thrasimeno fills;  
The fights of Treb and Cannae are but play,  
If with our bloody slaughters they compare,  
Of Adda, Mela, Ronco, and of Tare.   

5  
No doubt God in heavenly throne that sits,  
And thence our deeds and thoughts doth plainly see  
Us to be spoiled and conquered thus permits,  
By those that are perhaps as ill as we:  
But if to please him we would bend our wits,  
Then from these foes he soon would set us free,  
And we should see their punishment ere long,  
That us oppress by villainy and wrong.   

6  
But now to turn from whence I did digress,  
I told you how when Charles the news had hard,  
Of houses burnt, and men in great distress,  
By him that doth nor God nor man regard,  
Unto their aid he doth himself address,  
And choose some special men to be his guard,  
And meeting such as fled, their course he stayed,  
And these or such like words to them he said.   

7  
O simple fools, what mean you hence to run?  
Turn back for shame, turn back and do not fly,  
You choose the greater ill the less to shun,  
To live with shame, and may with honour die, 
〈◊〉   
What city have you left when this is won?  
What hope is left a fortune new to try?  
Shall one vile Pagan boast another day,  
That he alone bathe d●u'n you all away?   

8  
This said, he came unto the palace gate,  
Where now the Pagan Prince triumphant stood,  
Most like a serpent fierce that hath of late,  
His old skin cast and left it in the wood,  
Rejoicing now of his renewed state,  
Of his fresh strength, of young and lusty blood,  
He shows his forked tongue and comes apace,  
And every beast that sees him gives him place.   

9  
Thus scornful and thus proud the Pagan stands,  
With threats to spoil the Palace and deface,  
And not a man that once his force withstands,  
Until king Charles appeared in the place;  
Who looking on his old victorious hands,  
Said thus: and is now altered so the case,  
That these my hands that wont were to win,  
To yield and to be faint should now begin?   

10  
Why should the strength, the vigour and the might,  
That I was wont in you to feel now fail?  
Shall this same Panim dog e'en in my sight,  
My people slay, my dwelling house assail?  
No, first on me a thousand deaths alight,  
No death can make a princely heart to quail;  
And with that word with couched spear in rest,  
He runs and smites the Pagan on the breast.   

11  
And strait the other of the chosen crew,  
On every side the Pagan do beset,  

●he xviij staff. 5  But how he scaped, and what did then ensue,  
Another time i'll tell, but not as yet:  
For first some matters past I must renew,  
And namely Griffin I may not forget,  
And crafty Origilla with the tother,  
That was her bedfellow and not her brother.   

12  
These three unto Damascus came together,  
The fairest and richest town of all the East,  
What time great lords and knights repaired thither,  
Allured by the same of such a feast.  
I told you from the holy city hither,  
Was five or six days journey at the least:  
But all the towns about both small and great,  
Are not like this for state and fruitful seat.   

13  
For first, beside the clear and temprat air,  
Not noid with summers heat nor winter's cold,  
There are great store of buildings large and fair,  
Of carved stone most stately to behold,  
The streets all paved where is their most repair,  
And all the ground is of so fruitful mould,  
That all the year their spring doth seem to last,  
And brings them store of fruits of dainty taste.   

14  
Above the City lies a little hill,  
That shades the morning sun in early hours,  
Of waters sweet (which here we use to still)  
They make such store with spice and juice of flowers  
As for the quantity might drive a mill,  
Their gardens have fair walks and shady bowers:  
But (that which chief maintaineth all the sweets)  
Two crystal streams do run a mid the streets.   

15  
Such was the native beauty of the town:  
But now because they look for great resort,  
Of Princes and of Lords of great renown,  
They deck their city in another sort:  
Each Lady putteth on her richest gown,  
Each house with Arras hanged in stately port:  
The noble youths do stand upon comparison,  
Whose horse doth best, who wears the best caparis●   

16  
Thus Griffin and his mates come to this place,  
And first they view these shows with great delight,  
And after they had rode a little space,  
A courteous squire persuades them to alight,  
And prayeth them to do his house that grace,  
To eat and take their lodgings there that night:  
They thank him for his kind an friendly offer,  
And strait accept the curtsy he doth proffer.   

17  
They had set down before them costly meat,  
Of sundry wines there was no little store,  
Of precious fruits the plenty was so great,  
As they had seldom seen the like before:  
The while their host doth unto them repeat,  
The cause of all this feasting, and wherefore  
The king appointed all these solemn sports,  
To draw together knights of sundry sorts.   

18  
But Griffin (though he came not for this end,  
For praise and bravery at tilt to run,  
But came to find his fleeting female friend)  
Yet was his courage such he would not shun,  
In these brave sports some little time to spend,  
Where of well doing honour might be won,  
He promised strait though little were his leisure,  
Before he go to see and show some pleasure.   

19  
And first he asketh farther of the feast,  
If it were new ordained, or else of old?  
His host replieth thus (my worthy guest)  
I shall in brief to you this thing unfold:  
Our Prince the greatest Prince in all the East,  
Hath newly pointed this great feast to hold;  
This is the first, but all of his retinue,  
Mind each fourth month this custom to continue.   

20  
In token of great gladness and great joy,  
By all the city is the feast begun,  
In token of the danger and annoy,  
That Norandin (our king) did lately shun, 
Horandine, Here beginneth the tale of Lucina at this 20 ft. and endeth as the 50.   
Locked up four months where he could not enjoy  
The use of earth, of water, air nor sun:  
Yet at the four months' end by hap he scaped  
The death, with yawning mouth on him that gaped.   

21  
(But plain to show you whence did come the seed,  
Of which this danger seemed first to grow)  
Love did to Norandin this danger breed,  
The king of Cypress daughter pleased him so,  
Because her beauty did the rest exceed,  
To see her, 
Caesar's word was vent 〈◊〉 vice.  needs (in person) he would go:  
He saw, he liked, he wood, he won, he married her,  
And homeward then by ship he would have carid her   

22  
But lo a wind and tempest rose so sore,  
As three days space they looked to be drowned,  
And made them land upon an unknown shore,  
Where strait we pitched our tents upon the ground,  
And (for of trees and grass there was good store)  

〈…〉  The King in hope some venison to have found,  
Into the next adjoining wood doth go,  
Two pages bear his quiver and his boe.   

23  
His meaning was some stag or buck to kill,  
We wait his coming in the tent at ease,  
When suddenly such noise our ears doth fill,  
As winds in woods, and waves do make in seas,  
And ay more nigh us it approached, till  
We plain might see unto our sore disease,  
A monster huge that ran along the sand,  
Destroying all that in the way did stand.   

24  
This Ork (for so men do the monster call)  
Directed strait his course upon our tent,  
His eyes were out, how ere it did befall,  
But yet he was so quick and sharp of scent,  
As all his blindness holp not us at all,  
He hunteth like a spaniel by the vent,  
His scent is such as none can hope to shun him,  
His pace is such as no man can outrun him.   

25  

〈…〉  Thus whether they prepared to fight or fly,  
Or whether fear both sight and flight did let,  
He takes them as his prisoners by and by,  
Of forty, ten scarce to the ship could get,  
Among the other prisoners ta'en was I,  
Whilst I our Queen in safety would have set,  
But all in vain to fly, it did not boot,  
He was so quick of scent, and swift of foot.   

26  
As shepherds hang a wallet at their waist,  
So at his gudle hangs a mighty sack,  
In which the better sort of us he placed,  
The rest he bound together in a pack,  
And to his cave that was most huge and vast,  
He bears us (hopeless ever to come back)  
A comely matron in this den he had,  
Maids fair and foul, some poor, some richly clad.   

27  
Beside this female family of his,  
He hath a cave wherein he keeps his flock,  
That cave in length and largeness passeth this,  
Made all by hand out of the stony rock:  
And (for man's flesh his chiefest dainty is)  
Into the cave he safely doth us lock,  
The while he leads abroad his goats and sheep,  
Which in the fields adjoining he doth keep.   

28  
The King not knowing this, returned back,  
The silence that he found some fear did breed:  
But when he found his wife and men were lack,  
He then to sea did hast him with great speed:  
He sees plain signs of haste, of spoil, of wrack,  
Yet knows he not the author of this deed,  
Until he had his ship by hap recovered,  
Then by his men the fact was plain discovered.   

29  
When he had heard at last the woeful news, 
〈…〉   
How greatly was his heart surprysd with grief?  
What gods, what fortune did he not accuse?  
For all his losses but Lucyna chief?  
But dangers all and death he first will choose,  
Ere he than leave his love without relief,  
He either will her liberty procure,  
Or else he will like chance with her endure.   

30  
He leaves his ship and goes by land apace,  
There where the monster had his love conveyed,  
And often wails her hard and woeful case,  
Desiring and despairing of her aid.  
Now came he in the kenning of the place,  
And stands twixt half amazed and half afraid:  
At last he enters (love expelling fear)  
When by good hap the monster was not there.   

31  
His wife was there, who with compassion moved,  
Admonished him to make but little stay,  
But hasten thence if so his life he loved,  
Lest that her husband find him in the way:  
Yet from his purpose this him not removed,  
But to the sober matron he doth say,  
In vain you seek to drive me hence by terror,  
Desire hath hither brought me, and not error.   

32  
By my ill hap while I abroad was riding,  
The Orko bore away my dearest wife,  
I hither come of her to hear some tiding,  
Or having lost my love, to lose my life,  
I care not I, if she in life be biding,  
If she be dead, my death shall end this strife,  
Love in this point so resolute hath made me,  
You should but lose your labour to distwade me.   

33  
The gentle matron in this sort replies,  
Know this, thy wife in safety doth remain,  
But hard it is to compass or devise,  
Which way to get her from his hand again,  
His want of fight, his passing sent supplies,  
To strive with him by force it were but vain,  
He spoileth men, but women do not die,  
Save only such as strive away to fly.   

34  
But those he finds his company to shun,  
With hatred gr●●●e doth for ay pursue,  
Some he doth hang all naked in the sun,  
And day by day their torments doth renew;  
And some immediately to death are done,  
Both young and old, both foul or fair of hue,  
So that to seek to set Lucyna free,  
May harm her much, and little profit thee.   

35  
Wherefore my son depart the while thou may,  
(The matron saith) Lucyna shall not die,  
For hither shortly he will her convey,  
Where she shall far no worse than these and I,  
Depart? (quoth he) nay here I mind to stay,  
And fall what shall, I will my fortune try,  
And if my hap be such I cannot free her,  
At least I mean before I die to see her.   

36  
The matrons mind with much compassion moved,  
To see his loving and most constant mind,  
That from his purpose would not be removed,  
To bring him aid and comfort was inclined:  
And then she told him how it him behoved,  
If so to see his wife he had assigned,  
To use some such device as she would tell him,  
That when the Ork should come be might not smell him.   

37  
She had that hanged in the houses roof,  
The hairy skins of many a bearded goat,  
And knowing best what was for his behoof,  
Of one of them she makes him make a coat,  
And with goats suet for a further proof,  
To 'noint his body from the foot to throat:  
And in this sort his shape and savour hiding,  
He cometh to the place where we were biding.   

38  
Now night drew near, his horn the Ork doth blow,  
And all his herds came back unto his sold,  
And Norandin among the goats doth go,  
And enters in, love maketh him so bold,  
The Orko shuts the door, and leaves us so,  
Shut up as safe as in a tower or hold,  
Then doth the king at large unto his lover,  
His coming and the means thereof discover.   

39  
〈◊〉 doth not only not rejoice,  
To see her husband come thus strangely clad,  
But with most lamentable mournful voice,  
She blamed him that such peril ventured had,  
And swears that if she might have had her choice,  
She would alone have felt this fortune bad,  
And that before it somewhat eased her pain,  
To think that he in safety did remain.   

40  
Thus said Lucina fair with watered eyes,  
As seeming now more doleful than before;  
But Norandino in this sort replies,  
Thinkst thou my dear I loved thee no more?  
Yes sure, and will e'en now a mean devise  
Both thee and these to freedom to restore,  
And to deliver from this servile slavery,  
By help of this same skin and grease unsavoury.   

41  
And strait he taught us as himself had tried,  
Each one to kill a goat and take the skin,  
And outwardly to wear the hairy hide,  
And to be anointed with the grease within.  
Thus every one doth for himself provide,  
Before the sun did yet to shine begin,  
Then came the Ork and moved away the stone,  
And out the bearded goats came one and one.   

42  
The smelling Orko at the door doth stand,  
We passed like goats and make no noise nor speech,  
Yet oft he groped with his hideous hand,  
But poor Lucina could not choose but skreech;  
Or that he happed to touch her with his wand,  
Or else too roughly pawd her by the breech,  
So back he puts her strait, and locks her up,  
And swears that she should drink a sorry cup.   

43  
Himself drives out his flock (as wont he was)  
And we like goats among the goats do keep,  
And when as they were feeding on the grass,  
The monstrous herdman laid him down to sleep.  
Thus we escaped, but our good King alas,  
(That missed his love) doth nought but wail & weep  
And save that still he hoped of her relief.  
He would no doubt have died of very grief.   

44  
At night he turneth back with like desire,  
As he before had come to set her sree,  
And he conceals himself with like attire,  
From him that wants his instrument to see.  
The Ork inflamed with cruel rage and ire,  
And finds himself deceived thus to be,  
This recompense he points her for her pains,  
Upon that hill to hang each day in chains.   

45  
A cruel doom, but who could it resist?  
Away went we, each for himself afraid,  
But Noranaino ever doth persist  
In his first purpose of procuring aid,  
Lamenting that so narrowly he missed  
To ●●●g her out, among the goats he stayed,  
And like a goat (forgetting his estate)  
He goeth out early, and returneth late.   

46  
She sees him go and come, but all in vain,  
She maketh signs to him to have him part,  
He constantly resolveth to remain,  
The love of her possesseth so his hart,  
Despising danger and enduring pain,  
He hopeth hopeless still to ease her smart,  
At four months' end (good fortune so prepared)  
Gradasso in●●er came and Mandricard.   

47  
And (for her father was their loving friend)  
They gave this bold attempt to set her free,  
And to her father strait they do her send,  
Who was full glad and joyful her to see,  
And that her dangers had this happy end:  
But Norandino was more glad than he;  
Who with the goats no longer now did stay,  
But ●hile the Orko slept he stale away.   

48  
And now for joy of this great peril past,  
In which he stayed so woeful and forlorn,  
And that the memory thereof may last,  
To those that shallbe, and are yet unborn,  
(For never Prince before such woe did taste,  
Nor stayed so long in misery and scorn,  
And it shallbe just sixteen weeks tomorrow,  
That he remained in this woe and sorrow.)   

49  
Therefore I say the king prepares this sport,  
With very great magnificence and boast,  
Inviting hither men of every sort,  
Such as in chivalry excel the most,  
That far and near may carry the report,  
Of these great triumphs unto every cost.  
This tale the courteous host did tell his guest,  
Of him that first ordained the sumptuous feast.   

50  
In this and such like talk they spend the night,  
And then they sleep upon their beds of down,  
But when that once it shined clear and light,  
The trumpets sounded over all the town,  
And Griffin strait puts on his armour bright,  
Aspiring after same and high renown;  
His lewd companion likewise doth the same,  
To show a hope as well as he of fame.   

51  
All armed thus they came unto the field,  
And view the warlike troops as they did pass,  
Where some had painted on their crest and shield,  
Or some device that there described was,  
What hope or doubt his love to him did yield,  
They all were Christens then, but now alas,  
They all are Turks unto the endless shame,  
Of those that may and do not mend the same.   

52  
For where they should employ their sword and lance,  
Against the Infidels our public foes,  
God's word and true religion to advance,  
They to poor Christens work perpetual woes:  
To you I write, ye kings of Spain and France,  
Let these alone, and turn your force on those:  
And unto you also I write as much,  
Ye nations fierce, Zwizzers I mean and Dutch.   

53  

〈◊〉 great was the first 〈◊〉 was called the most Christian King for ●●ending the Church of Rome.  Lo, tone of Christian kings usurps a name,  
Another Catholic will needs be called:  
Why do not both your deeds declare the same?  
Why are Christ's people slain by you and thralled?  
Get back again jerusalem for shame,  
That now the Turk hath ta'en from you and walled  

Ferdinand's was the first 〈◊〉 was called Catholic, for driving the moors out of Granaia.  Constantinople get that famous town,  
That erst belonged to th'imperial crown.   

54  
Dost not thou Spain confront with Afrique shore,  
That more than Italy hath thee offended?  
Yet to her hart thou leavest that before,  
Against the Infidels thou hadst intended:  
O Italy a slave for evermore,  
In such sort marred as never can be mended,  
A slave to slaves, and made of sin a sink,  
And lotted sleep like men o'ercome with drink.   

55  
Ye Swizzers fierce, if fear of famine drive you,  
To come to Lombardie to seek some food,  
Are not the Turks as near? why should it grieve you  
To spill your foes, and spare your brother's blood?  
They have the gold and riches to relieve you,  
every yourselves with lawful gotten good,  
So shall all Europe be to you beholding,  
For driving them from these parts and withholding.   

56  

This ●ras Lee the 〈◊〉.  Thou Lion stout that hold'st of heaven the keys,  
(A weighty charge) see that from drowsy sleep  
Thou wake our realm, and bring her joyful days,  
And from these foreign wolves it safely keep,  
God doth thee to this height of honour raise,  
That thou mayst feed and well defend thy sheep,  
That with a roaring voice and mighty arm,  
Thou mayst withhold thy flock from every harm.   

57  
But whither roves my rudely rolling pe●,  
That wax so saucy to reprove such peers?  
I said before that in Damascus then  
They Christened were (as in records appears)  
So that the armour of their horse and men  
Was like to ours (though changed of later years)  
And Ladies filled their galleries and towers,  
To see the justs as they did here in ours.   

58  
Each strives in show his fellow to exceed,  
And to be gallant in his mistress sight,  
To see each one manage his stately steed,  
Was to the standers by a great delight:  
Some praise unto themselves, some shame do breed,  
By showing horses doings wrong or right,  
The chiefest prize that should be of this tilt,  
An armour was rich, set with stone and gilt.   

59  
By hap a merchant of Armenia found  
This armour, and to Norandin it sold,  
Who, had he known how good it was and sound,  
Would not have left it sure for any gold,  
(The circumstance I cannot now expound,  
I mean ere long it shall to you be told)  
Now must I tell of Griffin that came in,  
Just when the sport and tilting did begin.   

60  
Eight valiant knights the challenge did sustain,  
Against all comers that would run that day,  
These eight were of the Princes private train,  
Of noble blood, and noble every way,  
They fight in sport, but some in sport were slain,  
For why as hotly they did fight in play,  
As deadly foes do fight in battle ray,  
Save that the King may when he list them stay.   

61  
Now Griffins fellow was Martano named,  
Who (though he were a coward and a beast)  
Like bold blind Bayard he was not ashamed, 
Prioris.   
To enter like a knight among the rest,  
His countenance likewise in show he framed,  
As though he were as forward as the best,  
And thus he stood and viewed a bitter fight,  
Between a Baron and another Knight.   

62  
Lord of Seleucia the tone they call,  
And one of eight that did maintain the just,  
The Knight Ombruno height of person tall,  
Who in his vizer took so great a thrust,  
That from his horse astonished he did fall,  
And with his lively blood distained the dust:  
This sight amazed Martano in such sort,  
He was afraid to lose his life in sport.   

63  
Soon after this so fierce conflict was done,  
Another challenger strait steppeth out,  
With whom Martano was required to run,  
But he (whose heart was ever full of doubt)  
With fond excuses sought the same to shun,  
And showed himself a faint and dastard lout,  
Till Griffin egged him on, and blamed his fear,  
As men do set a mastiff on a Bear.   

64  
Then took he heart of grace, and on did ride,  
And makes a little flourish with his spear,  
But in the middle way he stepped aside,  
For fear the blow would be too big to bear:  
Yet one that would seek this disgrace to hide,  
Might in this point impure it not to fear,  
But rather that his horse not good and ready,  
Did shun the tilt, and ran not e'en nor steady.   

65  

●benes an ●ut Orator  But after with his sword he dealt so ill,  
Demosthenes him could not have defended,  
He showed both want of courage and of skill,  
So as the lookers on were all offended,  
And strait with hissing and with voices shrill,  
The conflict cowardly begun was ended:  
In his behalf was Griffin sore ashamed,  
His heart thereto with double heat inflamed.   

66  
For now he sees how much on him it stands,  
With double value to wipe out the blot,  
And show himself the more stout of his hands,  
Sith his companion showed himself a sot,  
His fame or shame must fly to foreign lands,  
And if he now should fail one little jot,  
The same would seem a foul and huge transgression,  
His mate had filled their minds with such impression.   

67  
The first he met Lord of Sidona height,  
And towards him he runs with massy spear,  
And gave a blow that did so heavy light,  
As to the ground it did him backward bear:  
Then came of Laodice another knight,  
On him the staff in pieces three did tear,  
Yet was the counterbuff thereof so great,  
The knight had much ado to keep his seat.   

68  
But when they came with naked swords to try,  
Which should the honour and the prize obtain,  
So Griffin did with deadly strokes him ply,  
At last he left him stomed on the plain.  
Straightway two valiant brothers standing by,  
That at Griffino took no small disdain,  
The tone Corimbo, other Tirse height,  
These two forthwith do challenge him to fight.   

69  
Successively them both he overthrew,  
And now men thought that he the prize would win,  
But Salintern that saw them down in view,  
To envy good Griffino doth begin,  
This man the stoutst of all the courtly crew,  
Doth take a spear in hand, and enters in,  
And to the combat Griffin strait defies,  
And scorns to have a stranger win the prize.   

70  
But Griffin chose one staff among the rest,  
The biggest and the strongest of a score,  
And with the same he pierceth back and breast,  
That down he fell and never stirred more;  

●ames the ●are those ●the prince 〈◊〉  The King that loved and esteemed him best,  
Laments his death, and maketh moan therefore,  
But yet the common sort were feign and glad,  
That knew his mind and manners were but bad.   

71  
Next after him two others he doth meat,  
Ermofilo the captain of his guard,  
And Carmond Admiral of all his fleet,  
With these a while he had a conflict hard,  
The first unhorsed was left upon his feet,  
The other with a blow was almost marred.  
Thus of eight challengers remained but one,  
The rest were quite subdued by him alone.   

72  
This one was he of whom at first I spoke,  
Lord of Seleucia a valiant man,  
This one to Griffin did resistance make,  
And long it was ere aught of him he won,  
But one blow on his head so fierce he strake,  
As he likewise to stagger now began,  
Had not the King made them to have been parted,  
Sure Griffin had him killed ere he had parted.   

73  
Thus all those eight, that all the world defied,  
By one alone were vanquished and slain,  
So as the King was forced to provide,  
An order new for those that do remain;  
(By parting runners some on either side)  
For yet was spent not passed an hour or twain,  
Lest this his triumph should have end too soon,  
He makes them spend therein the afternoon.   

74  
But Griffin full of wrath and discontent,  
Back to his host with his companion came,  
The praise he won did him not so content,  
As he was grieved at his companions shame:  
Wherefore to leave the town they do consent,  
While men were busy looking on the game,  
And to a little town fast by he goes,  
And means himself a while for to repose.   

75  
The travel sore he had before endured,  
So great a weariness in him had bred,  
And such desire of sleep withal procured,  
As strait he got him to his naked bed.  
The while Martano to all fraud enured,  
And using aid of her mischievous head,  
(as he did sound sleep) devisd the while  
A stratagem most strange, him to beguise.   

76  
They do conclude to take Griffinos' steed,  
And cote, and every warlike implement,  
And that Martano in Griffinos' steed,  
Himself to Norandino shall present.  
This they devisd, this they performed in deed,  
And boldly back again Martano went,  
In Griffins armour stoutly stepping in.  
As did the Ass that ware the Lion's skin. 
In Aesop's fabloes    

77  
He rusheth in among the thickest press,  
An hour before the setting of the sun,  
The King and all the rest straightway do guess,  
That this was he that had such honour won:  
And strait great honour they to him address,  
And cause the like by others to be done,  
And his base name, not worthy to be named,  
About the town with honour was proclaimed▪   

78  
Fast by the King he rideth cheek by cheek,  
And in his praise they songs and verses make,  
In Hebrew tongue, in Latin and in Greek.  
And now this while did Griffin hap to wake,  
And seeing that his armour was to seek,  
He first begins some small mistrust to take,  
Yet hardly could it sink into his reason,  
That she had given consent to such a treason.   

79  
In fear and doubt no little time he hovered;  
But when his host the truth had plain declared,  
And that he saw the falsehood plain disovered,  
By which she had in follies bands him snard,  
Then truth showed plain that love before had covered,  
And to revenge this wrong he strait prepared,  
But wanting other furniture (perforce)  
He took Martanoes armour and his horse.   

80  
And back unto Damascus he doth ride,  
Arriving there within an hour of night,  
And entering at the gate upon the side,  
The palace of the King stood plain in sight,  
Where then the King a banquet did provide,  
For many a Duke and Lord, and valiant Knight,  
And Griffin boldly sat among the rest,  
Forgetting that he ware the scorned crest.   

81  
And taken for the man whose coat he ware,  
His presence did the better sort offend,  
Of which when vile Martano was aware,  
That of the table sat at th'upper end,  
And sees that to disgrace him they forbore,  
And think him his companion and his friend:  
His friendship and acquaintance he renounced,  
And this hard doom of him he strait pronounced.   

82  
Sir King (quoth he) it seems that for my sake,  
You graciously forbear to do him shame,  
That of his baseness shameful proof did make  
This day, and now again confirms the same:  
But you the matter and the man mistake,  
I know not him, his nation, nor his name,  
By chance I met him only on the way,  
I never saw him I, till yesterday.   

83  
Wherefore might I herein your grace advise,  
You should a sample make him for the rest,  
That here presents unto your princely eyes,  

A fit counsellor for a Prince.  Himself unworthy, and unwelcome guest,  
Let him tormented be in cruel wise,  
(This is my doom) let him be hanged at least,  
And unrevenged let him not be borne,  
That knighthood should receive so great a scorn.   

84  
Thus much the vile and base Martano seth,  
And Origilla soothed it with as much,  
And wished an halter stop the villain's breath.  
Nay (quoth the King) the sin is nothing such,  
As is in law or reason worthy death,  
His life or yet his liberty to touch:  
This, for example's sake I think it meet,  
To do him some disgrace in open street.   

85  
And strait he rounds a Sergeant in his care,  
And secretly appoints him what to do,  
Who came forthwith unto the table where  
Griffino sat, and made no more ado,  
But leadeth him, that no such thing did fear,  
A secret prison and a sure unto,  
And for that night he clapped him up in fetters,  
Where thieves do use to lie and evil debtor.   

86  
Next day Martano that did greatly dread,  
Lest this his foul device would come to light,  
If Griffin should be heard his cause to plead,  
Therefore as soon as Phoebus shined bright,  
(Pretending business) away he sped,  
And leaves Griffino in this woeful plight:  
But ere he goes, the King to him imparts  
No small rewards for his, not his deserts.   

87  
But let him go his ways, and do not doubt, 
M●●●● with a 〈◊〉 book, 31 〈◊〉   
That this unknown and unrevengd shall be:  
Strait was Griffino from the jail put out,  
And carted so as all men might him see,  
Tide hand and foot, and people all about,  
Of which the most were but of mean degree,  
Also the armour whence this error came,  
Was hauled about unto his farther shame.   

88  
With many filthy words they him revile,  
From filthy tongues, that hard it is to stop,  
And showed him round about the town the while,  
At every cross, and house, and stall and shop:  
Then thinking him for ever to exile,  
They led him of that hill unto the top,  
And there his bonds they lose with great disgrace,  
And then they will him pack him thence apace.   

89  
With scornful sound of basin, pot and pan,  
They thought to drive him thence like Bees in swarms,  
But when he was untied than he began  
To make them know their error to their harms,  
Then he did lay about, and play the man,  
Now having use of both his warlike arms,  
But in what sort the them dismayed and scared,  
Within another book shall be declared.   
In the beginning of this book, 
Moral.  he shows how God doth plague people oftentimes, by sending tyrants and most wicked and cruel Princes to rule over them; which as it is indeed the greatest punishment a country can have, so of the contrary side, may be in l●●esort concluded, that countries cannot have a more ample blessing of God, nor a greater testimony of his favour, then to have a merciful Prince, that loveth the people, and is careful of their peace and profit: and as mine author com●plameth of the misery of Italy, oppressed by tyrants, so chose I might take occasion to magnify the felicity of our realm of England for the gracious and mild government of our Sovereign, save that so high and plentiful a matter, requires an entire treatise, and not so broken a discourse as I use in these brief notes, and therefore Ireserue it wholly for another work of mine own, if God give me ability to perform it: but now to the matter of this book. In that Rodomont kills and massacres the people, without resistance, or without any man to make head against him, we may mark how fitly and properly the multitude may be likened to sheep, not only in that they be shorn, and fleeced every year for their wool, and sometime pinched to the quick by the greedy shearers, but also that when they should come to defend themselves, their houses, and children, from invading of the enemy, they run away like sheep, from the noise of the barking of a little cur, until their shepherd come and defend them.  
In the tale of Norandine, that for his fair Lucina's sake did hazard his life so manifestly, and after was contented to Lap himself up in a goats skin, and to anoint himself over with goats suet, we may note how hearty love and affection, will make a man disdain nothing, be it never so base. In Martanoes cowardice, and crafty undermining of Griffino, we may mark how cowardly fellows be commonly treacherous, and privy underminers. And in that Norandine (a good natured and affable Prince) did condemn Griffino to prison, without once calling him to answer for himself, we may take an excellent good note (as my author hath done upon this matter in the next book) how hurtful a thing it is in a common wealth when a magistrate (and specially a Prince) shall hear such a Martanist as Martano, or such a Gil as Origilla was, whisper them in their ears, & give malicious and untrue (though probable) informations against well deserving men: And sure, though some hold opinion that these kind of people (called informers) be to be cherished, as necessary servants of the state, though defamed otherwise, and even confessing themselves, that it is no honest man's office; yet for my part, I have heard wise men say, that such men are hurt full to the state in policy, and make more malconrents, than they discover; and I am sure it is far from the rules of Christian charity, and to be controlled even by heathenish civility. Tully speaking of the like men saith, Anseribus cibaria publicè locantur & canes aluntur in Capitolio. Likening them, to be as necessary to keep in the common wealth, as geese and dogs in the Capitol: yet as Tully there noted, if the dogs barked without cause, at such as came of devotion to worship the Gods, than their legs ought to be broken: And even so these dogs, these bloodhounds, nay bloodyhounds, that bite in their barking, if they shall at any time snap at such as come to honour and serve their Prince, it were pity their legs should be broken; for though they fall lame, yet they can be carried in coaches and horslitters; marry if their necks were broken, the Realm should (I think) have a fair riddance of them. But I will end this note with a verse of that pleasant Poet martial, written above 1500 years since to Caesar, who had then banished promoters out of Rome: the which verse (I confess) concurs with my opinion.  
Turba gravis paci, placidae\'que inimica quieti,  
Quae semper miseras sollicitabat opes,  
Tradita Getulis, nec coepit arena nocentes,  
Et delator habet quod dabat exilium,  
Exulat Ausonia profugus delator ab urbe,  
Impensis vitam, Caesaris annumeres.  
To this effect in English, after my plain manner of versifying.  
The vile Promoters, foes to peace and enemies to rest,  
That with false tales, do never cease, men's goods from them to wrest,  
Are banished hence full many a mile, to barren place and waste,  
And he that others did exile, that self same cup doth taste;  
O happy Rome, that such hath lost, as mischief still contrive,  
But Caesar was at too much cost, to let them scape alive.  
And thus much for the moral.  
History I have none to stand upon in this book save such as either are already touched in the margin, 
●●●●●orie.  or else to be found in the Table.  
Allegory there is none.  
But the allusion is noted by one Simon Fornarius at very great length, 
●●●sion.  and the substance of all is this, that indescribing this notable triumph and feast of Norandino, he covertly describeth the notable tilting and turneying of certain of the Medici's in Florence, and how one Gentleman of Florence played such a part as Martano, shunning the tilt, and did indeed vomit for fear, and was laughed at for his labour. Also the number of the challengers agreed of Norandinos and this; so as it is evident that Fornarius saith right of the matter.  
Here end the notes of the xvij. Canto.   

  

THE EIGHTEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Now Griffin's known and felt: Algyre doth threaten  
The Tartar Prince: Charles fighteth and prevails:  
Martano like a coward is well beaten,  
Marfisas' force Damascus warriors quails:  
From thence with tempest tossed, and weather beaten,  
Both she and Griffin and Astolfo sails:  
Medor and Cloridan with care and pain,  
Seek for the carcase of their master slain.  

1  
MOst worthy Prince your virtues high and rare,  
With tongue and pen I praise, and ever shall,  
Although my words and verse inferior are,  
In number and in worth to match them all:  
But all above this one I do compare,  
And far prefer, and pure divinest call,  
That giving gracious ear to those are grieved,  
Yet every tale is not by you believed.   

2  
Oft have I heard your highness hath refused,  
Although the same most earnestly were sought  
To hear the guiltless absent man accused,  
(And when a great complaint to you was brought)  

〈◊〉 exceellent ●use in a prince  You have the matter and the man excused:  
Suspending still your judgement and your thought,  
And keeping till the truth were truly tried,  
Ever one ear for the contrary side.   

3  
Had Norandino had so great a grace,  
As not to credit tales so lightly told.  
He had not offered Griffin this disgrace,  
No though thereby he might have gained gold:  
But so doth rashness virtue oft deface,  
As here was proved that was said of old;  
The silly people bear the scourge and blame,  
Oft when their Princes do deserve the same.   

4  
For Griffin (as in part I told before)  
When as his hands and feet were once untied,  
Did deal about of blows and thrusts such store,  
As well was he could for himself provide,  
His wrath was such as none he then forbore,  
The old, the young, the strong, the feeble died:  
And they that laughed before to see him carted,  
Now for their labour whinde as much and smarted.   

5  
The people faint and mazed fled away,  
From him whom late they did deride and scorn,  
He followed them and killed them by the way,  
Dastards more meet to die, then to be borne.  
But in this chase a while I let him stay, 
He comes to Griffin the ●●st. of 〈◊〉 book.   
Triumphing now that lately was forlorn:  
Of Rodomont now somewhat must be spoken,  
On whom at once I said eight spears were broken.   

6  
Eight spears at once upon the scaly skin,  
Did light, and divers darts were thrown aloof,  
For spears and darts he passeth not a pin,  
Such was his strength, so sure his armours proof:  
But when he saw that more and more came in,  
To part from thence he thinks his best behoof,  
For why on every side they do assail him,  
That needs at length his breath and strength must fail him.   

7  
e'en as the Lion's whelps that see a Bull, 
Simile.   
Are at the first of his great strength afraid,  
But when they see their sire to tear or pull,  
His throat and sides, they run their sire to aid,  
And fly upon his face and horned skull,  
Till prostrate on the ground they have him laid:  
So now when Charles himself was in the place,  
Each one took arms, each one took hart of grace   

8  
Who so hath seen a huge well baited Bear,  

Simile.  With many dogs, men standing close about,  
When he by hap the stake or cord doth tear,  
And rusheth in among the thickest rout,  
How suddenly they run away with fear,  
And make a lane to let the Bear go out:  
He might (I say) compare by such a sight,  
The manner of this Pagans fight and flight.   

9  
He rusheth out, and with his two hand blade,  
He flourisheth about in so fierce sort,  
That soon a way for him to pass was made,  
To hinder him his way it was no sport,  
And those that by the way did him invade,  
Except they shifted better, were cut short:  
Thus in despite of Charles and all his realm,  
He came unto the banks of Sequans stream.   

10  
And standing from the bank a little distance,  
That few or none behind could him enclose,  
An hours space and more he made resistance,  
Against king Charles, whose power still greater groo●  
Till in the end in hope of no assistance,  
Displeased, but not disgraced away he goes:  
He takes the river fretting in his mind,  
That he had left a man alive behind.   

11  
And so he swelled in anger and in pride,  
That he had thought to turn him back again,  
And to have mounted on the other side,  
And all that should withstand him to have slain:  
But lo a messenger he then espied,  
That made him from that rash attempt refrain,  

It follows in the 15●● of t●● book  But who did send him, and what word he bore,  
I mean to you another time declare.   

12  
But first what Discord did I mean to show,  
Who as you heard was by the Angel sent  
Among the Pagans, seeds of strife to sow,  
And as she was commanded thither went:  
Yet leaving Fraud behind the coals to blow,  
Lest all the fire of strife should quite be spent,  
And to augment his strength, as much as may be,  
He carried Pride with him out of the Abbey.   

13  

Go ●deputies.  Pride leaves Hypocrisy to keep his place,  
And thus these ia●ing friends together go,  
And when they traveled had a little space,  
They found by hap dame jealousy also,  
That met a dwarf that run a trudging pace,  
e'en as she wandered idly to and fro:  
And learning unto whom this page was sent,  
To go with him she quickly did consent.   

14  
You call to mind (for sure you cannot choose,  
But call to mind so late a written story)  
How Mandricardo Doralice did use,  
And kept with joy whom he did win with glory:  
She secretly sent notice of this news,  
(Though afterward herself perhaps was sorry)  
To Rodomont, and sharply him incited,  
To venge her rape as I before recited.   

15  
The messenger arrived then by hap,  
When from the stream the Pagan did ascend,  
And told him all the tale of her mishap,  
And how another did possess his friend:  
Cold jealousy strait entered in his lap,  
And Pride with Discord do the matter mend,  
Alleging if he put up this disgrace,  
Then let him near look Lady in the face.   

16  
Like as a Tiger that her young hath lost, 
Simile.   
Surprised by hunter's hand and borne away,  
Doth follow on the foot through every cost,  
No dikes nor waters wide can make her stay:  
So Rodomont with love (and anger most)  
Inflamed, could endure no more delay,  
And though he want his horse, that did not boot,  
To cause him stay, he rather goes on foot.   

17  
He means what ever horseman next he spied,  
To take his horse offrend or else of foe,  
At this is Discord pleased, and said to Pride,  
That she was glad their business co●ned so:  
I will (quoth she) a horse for him provide,  
An horse shall cost him dear enough I trow;  
But what of him and of that horse befell, 
It followeth the 23 book 23. 〈◊〉   
Another time not now I mean to tell.   

18  
This while the most renowned Christian king,  
That had expulsed the Pagan from the town,  
His valiant men of arms about doth bring,  
And on the sudden lets the draw bridge down,  
And with afresh assault their foes so sting,  
While fortune smiled on him, on them did frown,  
That they had run away like men dismayed,  
Had not Ferraw courageously them stayed.   

19  
My mates in arms (quoth he) brethren and friends, 
Ferraw 〈…〉   
Proved valiant heretofore, now hold your place:  
More happy far is he his life that spends,  
In honour, then that keeps it in disgrace;  
Lo me your general that here intends,  
No way to stain the blood of Spanish race;  
The pattern follow that I show you furst,  
And then I care not, let them do their worst.   

20  
Thus in that part Ferraw the fight renewed,  
And draws with him the chosen Spanish band,  
That oft in Christian blood their hands imbrued,  
And none almost but they, did now withstand:  
But destiny can never be eschewd,  
As may by their success be rightly scanned;  
Behold Renaldo comes, and as he came, 
Ovid 〈◊〉 Hector 〈…〉   
It seemed he carried lightning fierce or flame.   

21  
Nor long before Almontes' valiant son,  
height Dardanell, had slain a Christian knight,  
And proud of that his glory lately won,  
And of this good success he had in fight,  
About the field he carelessly did run,  
Until he happed to see a woeful sight,  
He saw Alfeo yielding up the ghost,  
A youth whom he esteemed and loved most.   

22  
Lurcanio was the man that did the deed,  
And Dardanell to venge it doth intend,  
Lurcanio followed on and took no heed,  
The other all on him his force doth bend,  
And with a weighty spear, him and his steed,  
Unto the earth together he doth send,  
And pierced his thigh, and put him in such pain,  
As scant he able was to rise again.   

23  
But Ariodant (that dear his brother loved)  
And sees him in such pain and danger lie,  
Was there with all in wrath so greatly moved,  
He meaneth to avenge his hurt, or die:  
But though that he attempted oft and proved,  
Yet could he not to Dardanell come nigh,  
For still of other men, the throng and number,  
Did him in this attempt molest and cumber.   

24  
No doubt the heavens had Dardanell ordained,  
To perish by a more victorious hand;  
Renaldoes blade must with his blood be stained,  
And was, as after you shall understand:  
By him this praise and glory must be gained,  
The fame whereof must fill both sea and land:  

Follows in this 〈◊〉, 68 staff.  But let these western wars a while remain,  
And of Griffino talk we now again.   

25  
Who taught those of Damascus to their harms,  
What wrong they did to cart him in such sort,  
They fill the town with uproars and alarms,  
men's mouths and ears were full of this report:  
The King brings forth five hundred men in arms,  
And sends five more to fortify the fort:  
For why this tumult brought him in persuasion,  
That sure some host of men did make invasion.   

26  
But when he saw no men, no host, no band,  
No troops of horse, the city to invade,  
Only one man (well known) that there did stand,  
And of his people such a slaughter made,  
(Moved with remorse) he stretcheth out his hand  
Naked, in show of peace, as is the trade,  
And openly his rashness he lamented,  
That such a knight to harm he had consented.   

27  
And Griffin when to find he now begun,  
The King was of so good an inclination,  
And that the wrong to him before was done,  
Not of his own, but others instigation:  
To make a friendly concord doth not shun,  
Because hereby he lost no reputation:  
And there he tarid at the king's request,  
To cure his wounds and take a little rest.   

28  
This while his brother Aquilant the black,  
That with Astolfo still in jewrie stayed,  
And sees his brother now so long did lack,  
Was in his mind all sad and ill paid:  
They heard no news of him, they found no track,  
Though wait about in every place was laid,  
Until the Greekish pilgrim they had met,  
By whom of him some inkling they did get.   

29  
He told them how a certain wanton dame,  
Height Origilla, with a ruffian knave,  
That kept her openly without all shame,  
Yet going in apparel fine and brave,  
These two (the pilgrim said) together came,  
From Antioch (as forth in speech they gave)  
And to Damascus than they meant to go,  
But what became of them he did not know.   

30  
And further unto Aquilant he told,  
How he Griffino met this other day,  
And did to him the matter all unfold,  
And how forthwith Griffino went his way,  
With chase enough, and swearing that he would  
Kill this same vile adultrer if he may:  
No sooner had his speech the pilgrim ended,  
In post to follow, Aquilant intended.   

31  
In post he followed to Damascus ward,  
And when he traveled had a day or twain,  
(Behold that God that ever doth reward  
The good with blessings and the bad with pain)  
That graceless couple that before you heard,  
Betrayed Griffino with that devilish train,  
Into the hands of Aquilant did give,  
While they in pleasure most securely live.   

32  
I say that Aquilant by God's permission,  
Doth meet the vile Martano on the way,  
His horse, his coat, and outward apparition,  
So like unto Griffino every way,  
That Aquilant at first without suspicion,  
Went to embrace him, and began to say,  
Brother well met, I joy of your welfare,  
Your absence bred in me much fear and care.   

33  
But when he saw the tother not replied,  
But shrunk away like one that were afraid,  
Ah traitor villain, yield thyself he cried,  
Thou hast my brother spoiled and betrayed,  
Tell me (thou wretch) doth he in life abide?  
To whom in humble sort Martano said,  
(With fainting hart, with quaking voice & trembling  
Yet in the midst of all his fear dissembling)   

34  
Oh pardon sir, your brother is alive,  
And like to live, and hath no hurt, nor shall,  
The truth is this, I being loath to strive  
With him, because I found him stout and tall,  
Did with no ill intent this drift contrive,  
To save myself and do him hurt but small,  
For this same woman's sake that is my sister,  
With open force not daring to assist her.   

35  
It grieved me to see how he by lust  
Did her abuse whom nature made me love,  
And for I thought it was both meet and just,  
Her from this wicked custom to remove,  
And sith I did his value great mistrust,  
I thought it best by policy to prove:  
I stale his horse and coat while he was sleeping,  
And so conveyed her quite out of his keeping.   

36  
Well might Martano bear away the bell,  
Or else a whetstone challenge for his dew,  
That on the sudden such a tale could tell,  
And not a word of all his tale was true,  
Put yet in show it all agreed well,  
Save one which Aquilant most certain knew  
Was false, and he in vain did seek to smother,  
He was her bedfellow, and not her brother.   

37  
With hand and tongue at once he doth reply,  
And in one instant he both strake and spoke,  
I know (quoth he) vile villain thou dost lie,  
And on the face so fiercely him he strake,  
He makes two teeth into his throat to fly;  
Then with great violence he doth him take,  
And him and her he binds in bitter bands,  
Like captives carried into foreign lands.   

38  
And thus in haste unto Damaseo riding,  
He swears that he these bands would not unbind,  
Till of his brother he do hear some tiding,  
Whom in Damascus after he did find;  
Who now with cunning Physic and good guiding,  
Was almost healed in body and in mind,  

〈◊〉  And when he saw his unexpected brother,  
They both saluted and embraced each other.   

39  
And after they had made in speech some sport,  
About full many a foolish accident,  
(For Aquilant had heard a large report  
Of Griffins carting, and his punishment)  
At last he asketh Griffin in what sort  
They should this couple worthily torment;  
To hang and draw, and burn their privy parts,  
Was not too much for their too foul deserts.   

40  
The King and all his Council thought it good,  
Because their fault was such so open known,  
That they should publicly dispill their blood,  
And their deserts might publicly be shown:  
But yet that motion Griffin strait withstood,  
Pretending private causes of his own,  
Only he wished Martano should be stripped,  
And at a cart drawn through the street and whipped.   

41  
And as for her, although she had deserved  
A punishment as great as he, or more,  
Yet was the sentence of her doom reserved  
Until I ucina came, and not before:  
So that by Griffins mean she was preserved,  
So great a sway love in his fancy boat:  
Here Aquilant by Griffin was procured,  
To bide with him until his wounds were cured.   

42  
Now Norandin that all his power still bends,  
To honour Griffin all the means he may,  
And with great courtesy to make amends,  
For that disgrace he did him th'other day;  
To make another triumph he intends,  
Set forth with pomp and state, and rich array:  
And that the same may she to foreign nations,  
He notifies it strait by proclamations.   

43  
At four weeks end the triumph should begin,  
The fame whereof about so far was blown,  
Without the land of jewrie and within,  
At last unto Astolfo it was known,  
Who ask Sansonets advice herein,  
Whose wisdom he preferred before his own,  
At last for company they both agree,  
To go together these same justs to see.   

44  
Now as they went upon their way, behold  
They met a gallant and a stately dame,  
With whom this Duke acquainted was of old, 
Marfisa.   
Marfisa was this noble Lady's name:  
She traveled like a Knight, her heart was bold,  
Her body passing strong unto the same,  
And when she knew both why and where they went,  
To go with them she quickly did consent.   

45  
And thus these three their journey so contrive,  
As just against the day and solemn feast,  
Together at Damascus they arrive,  
Each one well mounted on a stately beast,  
The King that specially did care and strive,  
To honour Griffin more than all the rest,  
By all the means and ways he could devise,  
Augmented much the value of the prize.   

46  
And where it was▪ as I before declared,  
A single armour rich and finely wrought,  
Now Norandino at this time prepared,  
To set it out with things not lightly bought;  
To this he adds a horse most richly barbd,  
By rider's skill to great perfection brought,  
Well shaped, well marked strong limbed, and passing swift,  
The beast alone, fit for a Princess gift.   

47  
All this he did, because great hope he saw,  
That Griffin once again the prize would win,  
But than was verifide the old said saw,  
Much falls between the Chalice and the chin: 
Proverb Quid Me● 〈…〉 inter ●spam●   
For when Marfisa (void of fear or awe)  
Without had viewed this armour and within,  
And finds it had been hers by marks well known,  
She seizeth strait upon it as her own.   

48  
The King that ill so great disgrace could brook,  
Did show himself there with much discontent,  
And with a princely frown and angry look,  
His silence threatened that she should repent,  
And in so great despite the thing he took,  
That strait some sergeants unto her he sent,  
With soldiers, some on foot and some on horse,  
Deceived much in her sex, more in her force.   

49  
For never did a child take more delight, 
Simile.   
With gaudy flowers in time of spring to play,  
Nor never did young Lady brave and bright, 
Simile. The first 〈◊〉 similes 〈…〉   
Like dancing better on a solemn day,  
Then did Marfisa in the sound and sight  
Of glittering blades and spears delight to stay:  
And this did cause her take therein more pleasure,  
Because her strength was great beyond all measure.   

50  
Those few that were to apprehend her sent,  
And punish her for this unlawful deed,  
Were cauld their coming quickly to repent,  
And others by their harms took better heed:  
The armed Knights most diversly were bend,  
Some standing still to mark what this would breed,  
Some to the sergeants thought to bring relief,  
Or whom were Griffin and his brother chief.   

51  
The English Duke doth deem it were a shame,  
To leave Marfisa in this dangerous case,  
Sith chiefly for his company she came,  
And Sansonet doth deem it like disgrace,  
Wherefore they mean how ere the matter frame,  
Not leave her unassisted in the place,  

〈◊〉  Astolfo had a charmed spear all gilt,  
With which he used oft to run at tilt.   

52  
The virtue of this charmed spear was such,  
Besides the gild bright and fair of hue,  
That whom so ere the head thereof did touch,  
Strait him from off his horse it overthrew,  
Griffino first although disdaining much,  
He quite unhorsed, nor who it was he knew:  
Then Aquilant that to revenge it meant,  
Unto the ground in manner like was sent.   

53  
Thus did these warriors three themselves behave,  
But chief Marfisa, who would never rest,  
But would in spite of all, the armour have,  
Nor once vouchsafed to ask it or request;  
She doth the King and all his nobles brave,  
And when the best of them had done his best,  
On every side she beat the people down,  
And from them all made way out of the town.   

54  
Sansonet and Astolfo did the like,  
King Norandinos men of arms pursue,  
The foolish people cry stop, kill and strike,  
But none comes near, but stand aloof to view:  
A narrow bridge there was, this place they pike,  
And to defend it against all the crew,  
Till Griffin came, having his horse recovered,  
And by some marks the English Duke discovered.   

55  
And strait his brother Aquilante came,  
And of Astolfo both acquaintance take,  
And then in civil terms they somewhat blame  
Her little count she of the King did make,  
Astolfo friendly told to them her name,  
And in defence of her some words he spoke,  
The rest that came marvel to what it tends,  
To hear them talk together now like friends.   

56  
But when that Norandinos soldiers hard  
Her name, so dreaded over all the East,  
They surely thought that they should all be marred,  
And that the city would be ta'en at least,  
Therefore they pray the King to have regard.  
But now Marfisa (moved by request  
Of those two brothers) friendly doth consent,  
Herself before the Prince for to present.   

57  
And thus without much reverence she spoke,  
Sir King, I marvel what your highness meant,  
A prize and gift of such a thing to make,  
As is not yours without I give consent:  
The arms this armour hath plain proof do make,  
Namely a crown into three pieces rend:  
Once I put off this armour in a way, 
That thief was Brune●o, as is as large set down 〈◊〉 Boyardos' book   
To chase a thief that stale from me a pray.   

58  
Then said the King, fair dame the truth is so,  
Of one Armenian merchant I them bought,  
I make no question be they yours or no,  
Nor needs for proof more witness to be brought,  
For though they were not, I would them bestow  
On you, if so the same by you were sought:  
As for Griffino unto whom I gave them,  
He shall be pleased I hope, and not to have them.   

59  
I will him recompense some other way,  
And give him gifts of as great worth or more;  
Thanks to your highness Griffin strait doth say,  
Preserve me in your grace, I ask no more:  
But when Marfisa saw that every way  
They honoured her, she changed her mind before,  
To show magnificence she used this drift,  
That he must take this armour as her gift.   

60  
And thus good friends all turned back again,  
And then with double joy the feast they hold,  
In which chief praise did Sansonet obtain,  
The other four did then themselves withhold,  
Wishing the praise should unto him remain,  
And then with greater cheer than can be told,  
By Norandino they were nobly feasted,  
And there themselves they well reposed and rested.   

61  
seven days or eight the King them entertained,  
And those once past, of him their leave they take,  
The which with gifts and honour great obtained,  
Unto the town of Tripoli they make,  
And in one company these five remained,  
And mind not one the other to forsake,  
As long as one of them was left alive,  
Until in France they safely should arrive.   

62  
And strait they get a vessel for their hire,  
A merchant's ship new laden from the West,  
The master of the ship an ancient fire,  
Consented to their wills with small request,  
The wind as then served fit for their desire,  
And blows a gentle gale all from the East,  
So that with filled sails in little while,  
They came as far as Cypress, Venus I'll.   

63  
Here every place was full of odours sweet,  
Of gardens fair, of spice of pleasant taste, 
Cypress an I'll cosecrate to Venus.   
The people lustful (for dame Venus meet)  
From tender years to doting age do last,  
With wanton damsels walking in each street,  
Inviting men to pleasure and repast,  
From hence again they loosed, at what time  
Don Phoebus' charet unto th'East did climb.   

64  
The weather still was temperate and clear,  
A pleasant gale their swelling sails did fill;  
No sign of storm or tempest did appear,  
To such as in the weather had best skill:  
But lo the weather oft doth change her cheer,  

〈◊〉  even as a woman oft doth change her will,  
For suddenly they had such storms of wether,  
As if that heaven and earth would come together.   

65  
The air doth on the sudden grow obscure,  
But lightened oft with lightnings dreadful light,  
And save their hourglass kept them reckoning sure  
'twas hard for to discern the day from night:  
The desperate mariners do all endure,  
As men enured to the waters spite,  
The heavens above, the waves beneath do roar,  
Yet are not they dismayed one whit therefore.   

66  
One with a whistle hanged about his neck,  
Shows by the sound which cord must be undone,  
And strait the shipboy ready at a beck,  
Unto the tops with nimble sleight doth run,  
The other mariners upon the deck,  
Or at the steer the coming waves do shun,  
And then by turns they pump the water out,  
By pain and care preventing every doubt.   

67  

He return to them in the 〈◊〉 book. 34 〈◊〉.  Now while this noble crew with tempest tossed,  
Went in the sea as wind and weather drove,  
And look each minute to be drowned and lost,  
The Christians with a fresh assault and brave,  
Set on the Pagans sorely to their cost:  
Who now began the worse side to have,  
But chiefly then their courage 'gan to quail,  
When noble Dardanelloes life did fail.   

68  

Renaldo  Renaldo him had noted from the rest,  
Full proud of slaughter of so many foes,  
And to himself he said 'tis surely best,  
To crop this weed before it higher grows,  
Therewith he sets his fatal spear in rest,  
And cries to Dardanello as he goes,  
Alas poor boy, much woe to thee they bred,  
That left to thee that shield of white and red.   

69  
He try if you defend those colours well,  
(He saith) which if with me you cannot do,  
Against Orlando fierce. I can you tell.  
For to defend them will be great ado.  
Thus said Renald, and noble Dardanell,  
In valiant wise thus answered thereunto,  
Know this (quoth he) that these my colours I  
Will bravely here defend, or bravely die.   

70  
With that he spurred his horse (as this he spoke)  

Dardanello 〈…〉  And with great force Renaldo did assail,  
But lo the staff upon his armour broke,  
So as his blow but little did avail,  
But strait Renaldoes spear a way did make,  
And pierce the double folds of plate and mail,  
And went so deep into the tender skin,  
The life went out there where the staff went in.   

71  
Look how a purple flower doth fade and dry, 
Simile. Hou● 〈…〉 of a poppy.   
That painful ploughman cutteth up with shear,  
Or as the Poppeys heads a side do lie,  
When it the body cannot longer bear;  
So did the noble Dardanello die,  
And with his death filled all his men with fear,  
As waters run abroad that break their bay, 
Simile.   
So fled his soldiers breaking their array.   

72  
They fly unto their tents with full persuasion,  
That of the field the mastery was lost,  
Wherefore to fortify against invasion,  
They spare no time, no travel, nor no cost;  
Now Charles by forehead means to take Occasion, 
Sentence 〈◊〉 Fro●e 〈◊〉 oft ●ost 〈◊〉 Occasus 〈◊〉   
And follows them full close with all his host,  
And coming to their tents so bravely ventured,  
That he with them themselves almost had entered.   

73  
Had not his valiant attempt been stayed,  
By over hasty coming of the night,  
So that of force as then it was delayed,  
And either side was driven to leave the fight,  
But with this difference, all the Turks dismayed,  
And newly gathered from their fearful flight,  
The Christians on the other side pursewing,  
And day by day their hope and power renewing.   

74  
The number of the Turks that day were slain,  
Was more than fourscore thousand (as they say)  
Their blood did fat the ground of all that plain,  
And makes the ground more fertile to this day:  
Among the dead some men half dead remain,  
Left there for thieves and robbers as a pray,  
Within the Pagan camp great moan they make,  
Some for their friends, some for their kinsfolks sake.   

75  
Two youths there were among so many more,  
Whose friendship fast and firm, whose faithful hearts  
Deserved to be placed the rest before,  
And to be praised for their good deserts,  
Their names were Cloridano and Medore, 
Cloridano. Medore.   
Both borne far hence, about the Ester parts,  
Their parents poor, and not of our belief,  
Yet for true love they may be praised chief.   

76  
The elder of the two height Cloridan,  
An hunter wild in all his life had been,  
Of active limbs, and eke an hardy man,  
As in a thousand men might well be seen:  
Medoro was but young, and now began 
〈…〉 both 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 such 〈…〉   
To enter too, of youth the pleasant green,  
Fair skinned, black eyed, and yellow curled hear,  
That hanged in lovely locks by either ear.   

77  
These two among the rest kept watch that night,  
And while the time in sundry speech they spent,  
Medoro oftentime most sadly sight,  
His master's death did cause him so lament,  
Oh (said Medoro) what a woeful spite?  
What cruel scourge to me hath fortune sent?  
That Dardanel Almontes' worthy son,  
So suddenly should unto death be done?   

78  
Behold his noble corpse is left a prey,  
To be devoured by the Wolf and crow,  
A food too fine to be so borne away,  
But I shall remedy that hap I trow,  
I'll find the mean his corpse thence to convey,  
I am resolved myself will thither go,  
That for the good he did me when he lived,  
At least his corpse by me may be relieved.   

79  
When Cloridano heard this saying out,  
He stood amazed, and musing in his mind,  
In tender years to find a heart so stout,  
Unto so dangerous attempt inclined,  
And strait dissuades him, casting many a doubt,  
To make him change the thing he had assigned,  
But still Medoro doth resolve to try,  
To bury Dardanell, or else to die.   

80  
When Cloridan so resolute him found,  
Of his own frank accord he vow doth make,  
To follow him in broken state and sound,  
And never him to leave or to forsake;  
And strait they two do leave this fenced ground,  
And pointing new supplies their rooms to take,  
They find the Christian camp lie all neglected,  
Like those that fear no harm, nor none suspected.   

81  
I say those Christens that the watch should keep,  
Lay as they cared not for foe nor friend,  
Their senses so possessed with wine and sleep,  
That none of them their office did attend:  
But Cloridan that saw them drowned so deep,  
(Said thus,) Medoro, now I do intend,  
To get for our great loss, this small amends,  
To kill some foes, that killed all our friends.   

82  
Stand thou and watch and harkeu every way,  
And for the rest let me alone to try,  
This said, he goes where one Alfeo lay,  
That took upon him knowledge in the sky,  
By which he dreamt he should live many a day,  
And in his wives beloved bosom die,  

astronomer  But all was false his cunning him deceived,  
For now this Pagan him of life bereaved.   

83  
And many more whom here I do not name,  
That sleep on boards, or making straw their bed:  
At last where wretched Grillo lay he came,  
That on an empty barrel couched his head,  
Himself had empted late before the same,  

●●unkard.  A deadly sleep the wine in him had bred,  
The Turk his sword within his bowels fixed,  
Out came the blood and wine together mixed.   

84  
Near Grillo slept a Dutchman and and a Greek,  
That all the night had plied the dice and drink,  

●gamsters.  To both of them at once he did the leek,  
That dreamt perhaps of seven, and of sysefinke:  
They had been better watched all the week,  
Then at so bad a time as this to wink:  

〈…〉  Death certain is to all the Proverb seath,  
Uncertain is to all the hour of death.   

85  
Look how a Lion fierce with famine pined,  
That comes unto a flock of silly sheep,  
Where neither fence, nor people he doth find,  
Doth spoil the flock the whil● the shepherds sleep;  
So Cloridano with as bloody mind,  
That found those hushed that watch and ward should keep,  
Could not his cruel rage and malice bridle:  
Nor was this while Medoros' weapon idle.   

86  
For he that did disdain to make to die,  
Those of the common and the baler sort,  
Came there where Duke Labretto then did lie,  
Embracing of his Lady in such sort,  
As ivy doth the wall, they lay so nigh,  
Now sound sleeping after Venus' sport,  
So close, the air could not have come between;  
Medore their heads at one blow cuts off clean.   

87  
Oh happy state, 
Boccaccio hath the like concess to this.  o life, o death most sweet,  
For sure I think their souls embracing so,  
In heavenly seat do oft together meet,  
And in good peace and love did thither go.  
Then next a captain of the Flemish fleet,  
And th'earl of Flaunders sons with other more,  
Medoro killed, and so far forward went,  
He came but little from the Emp'rors' tent.   

88  
But lo they both with shedding blood now tired,  
And fearing least at length some few might wake,  
Ere long time past, both by accord retired,  
And mind their first attempt in hand to take,  
(As both, but as Medoro chief desired)  
Most secretly unto the field they make,  
They mean although they both were faint & weary,  
The noble Dardanelloes corpse to bury.   

89  
The heaps of men that in the field remain,  
Some dead, and some between alive and dead,  
Had made their labour to have been in vain,  
Had not the moon showed out her horned head,  
So bright, as clear discovered all the plain,  
That then was covered with vermilion red,  
Were it a chance or else his earnest prayer,  
That made the moon at that time shine so fair.   

90  
Now after search by Phoebe's friendly light,  
The good Medore espied him on the ground, 
Phoebe the name of the 〈◊〉.   
Who when he saw that grievous woeful sight,  
He was for sorrow ready there to sound;  
And out he cries, alas o worthy wight,  
Not worthy, in this sort to have been found,  
Now my last duty, do I mean to pay,  
And then to say, farewell to you for ay.   

91  
Thus spoke Medoro shedding many a tear,  
And minding now no longer time to tarry,  
The loved corpse doth on his shoulders bear,  
And Cloridano holp the same to carry,  
And they that erst were stout and void of fear,  
Were waxen now so timorous and wary,  
Not for their own, but this dear burdens sake,  
That every little noise did cause them quake.   

92  
This while the noble Zer●in, having chaste  
His fearful foes while others were a sleep,  
That had his heart on virtues lore so placed,  
As did to noble deeds him waking keep,  
Came with his troup where these two made great haste  
By hills, by dales, by stony ways and steep,  
The carcase of their Lord to bear away,  
When much it wanted not of break of day.   

93  
The Scots that were of noble Zerbins' band,  
And saw two men go laden down the plain,  
Make after them a gallop out of hand,  
In hope to light upon some prey or gain:  
When Cloridano spying o'er the land,  
Did say 'twas best to let the corpse remain,  
Alleging that it was a foolish trick,  
In saving one dead man to lose two quick.   

94  
And herewithal his hold he letteth slide,  
And thinks Medoro would the same have done,  
He means himself in the next wood to hide,  
And toward it in great hast he doth run;  
But good Medoro that could not abide,  
To leave the office he so late begun,  
Although with double pain and duller pace,  
With all the burden fled away in chase.   

95  
And to the wood the nearest way he went,  
In hope to get it er the horsemen came,  
But now his breath and strength were so far spent,  
As they had very near him overta'en,  
Yet in his deed he doth no whit relent,  
To leave his Lord he counts it such a shame.  
But they that think this story worth the reeding,  
Must take a little respite in proceeding.   

Moral.  In this eighteenth book, we may note first how hurtful a thing it is to a Prince or great Magistrate to judge without hearing both sides: and contrary how great a praise it is in them to do (as Alexander is noted to have used) to keep one care for the adverse party, or (as we term it) for the defendant. In the punishment of Martano, we may note how false accusers ever come to some filthy end, as their vile and filthy lives deserve. In Norandine, that finding he had done Griffino wrong, is willing to make ●amends for it, and to be friends with him, we may see a notable example of princely clemency, which I could wish all Christian Princes to follow, though in deed commonly they do quite contrary; and rather where they do one wrong, make amends with a greater, according to that heathenish (nay devilish) saying of Machiavelli, that whom you have done a great injury to, him you must never pardon, but still persecute. (Tempora tempora quod monstrum aluistis?) Oh times what a monster have ye bred? how far is this doctrine from his, that taught to forgive, not seven times, but seventy times seven times?  
Lastly in Medoro, we may note a notable example of gratitude towards his masters dead corpse, in hazarding his own life to bury it; which is indeed (though he were a heathen) a most Christian act, and one of the works of charity commended in the Scripture, as namely in Tobia; who was greatly rewarded and blessed for it: And further we may note in all ages, burial hath been thought a most necessary thing, and religious: but of Medoros' gratitude I shall speak more in the next book.  

History.  Concerning the description of the I'll of Cypress, set down in 63. staff, where it is praised for the pleasantness of it, as all that write of it do testify, and Horace proves it was called Venus I'll, in this verse to Venus: 
— Regina Gnidi Paphiq  
Sperne dilectam Cipron, etc.—   

Allegory.  We may observe a good Allegorical sense, in that Rodomont is first assailed by jealousy, then how jealousy breeds Discord, and how Pride increaseth it, still edging it forward: saying what a shame is it to put up such an injury? and what will the world say of it? and who could bear it? these be the whetstones to sharpen revenge, and to kindle the coals of strife. Also we note how mine Author prettily noted, that Discord and Pride, when they went from the Abbey, left Fraud and Hypocrisy for their sufficient deputies in their places; for where Fraud works, there never wanteth seed of strife: and where Hypocrisy is, there wants no pride, though it be not plainly discovered.  

Allusion.  In Dardanellos meeting with Renaldo and encountering him, and after being slain by him, he altogether alludes to the conflict between Troilus and Achilles. 
Infoelix puer atque impar congressus Achilli.   
The end of the annotations of the 18. book.   

  

THE NINETEENTH BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Angelica doth heal, and wed Medore:  
Marfisa, with that other worthy crew,  
Lands (after travel long) upon the shore  
Of Amazons: where when the law they knew,  
Stout Guidon, that came thither late before,  
Fought with Marfisa, who his nine men slew;  
But when the combat ceased, for want of light,  
Then Guydon prayeth them lodge with him that night.  

1  

divers have 〈◊〉 to this off●ct of the fickle ●as of friends: but specially 〈◊〉. Donecer is fa●● m●ltos numer abis a●●●cos: Tempora tisue 〈…〉  NOne can deem right who faithful friends do rest,  
While they bear sway & rule in great degree,  
For these both fast and feigned friends are priest,  
Whose faiths seem both of one effect to be:  
But than revolts the faint and feigned guest,  
When wealth unwinds, and Fortune seems to flee,  
But he that loves indeed remaineth fast,  
And loves and serves when life and all is past.   

2  

H●race. Vulg●● 〈…〉 retro 〈◊〉.  If all men's thoughts were written in their face,  
Some one that now the rest doth overcrow,  
Some other eke the wants his soverains grace,  
When as their Prince their inward thoughts should know:  
The meaner man should take the betters place,  
The greater man might stoop and sit below.  
But tell me now how poor Medoro sped,  
That loved his master both alive and ded.   

3  
In vain he sought to get him to the wood,  
By blind and narrow paths to him unknown,  
Their swift, and his slow pace the same withstood,  
Forced by the burden that he bore alone.  
But now, when Cloridano understood  
Medoros' case, he made for him great moan,  
And cursed himself, and was full ill paid,  
That he had left his friend devoid of aid.   

4  
Medoro all about so strait beset,  
To leave his loved load was then constrained,  
But all in vain he sought fro thence to get,  
His master's carcase that behind remained,  
Was unto him so fierce and strong a let;  
It stayed his weary steps, and him retained,  
e'en as a Bear that would defend her whelp, 
Simile.   
About doth hover though she cannot help.   

5  
So good Medore about the corpse did hover,  
The while that Cloridano cometh back,  
And (for the day was dawned) he might discover,  
How greatly his Medore, his help did lack;  
Wherefore to do his best him to recover,  
He takes his bow and quiver from his back,  
And at a Scot he took his aim so well,  
He strake him in the brain that down he fell.   

6  
The fall and death so sudden of the Scot,  
Amated much the courage of the rest,  
And much they marvelled whence should come this shot,  
And sore this accident did them molest:  
But Cloridan for this forbore them not,  
But shot another in, about the breast,  
The which inflamed Zerbinos' mind so sore,  
That for revenge he would have slain Medore,   

7  
And fastening in his golden curled hear,  
His warlike hand, thou shalt said he abvy,  
Thou shalt the penance and the burden bear  
Of him, that here hath made my men to die:  
Yet for all this, Zerbino did forbear  
To kill him, when he saw with gracious eye,  
His sweet sad look, and hearkened to his speech,  
That in this sort for pardon did beseech.   

8  

〈◊〉 account 〈◊〉 been 〈◊〉 burial, 〈◊〉 so that forbid it over 〈◊〉 most de●●● tyrants, ●● of 〈◊〉.  Sir knight (he said) for thy Messias sake,  
I thee do pray and earnestly conjure,  
So much compassion now on me to take,  
To let me give my Lord his sepulture:  
I little care what spoil of me ye make,  
What pains or tortures I myself endure,  
I only sue, so long my life to save,  
As I may lay my master in his grave.   

9  
Now while Medoro spoke these words and such,  
Whereby Zerbino was to mercy moved,  
And to his favour was inclined much,  
As one that gratefulness had ever loved,  
A vile base swain so rudely did him touch,  
As him not only from his place removed,  
But with his staff most rudely overthrew him,  
That every one do deem him dead that view him.   

10  
This fact did so Zerbinos' mind offend,  
That presently the villain he did chase,  
And to have killed him he did intend,  
And had, but that the other fled apace:  
But when that Cloridano saw his friend,  
With bleeding wound lie prostrate in the place,  
He means himself no longer now to hide,  
But e'en to die by dear Medoros' side.   

11  
And as he purposed, so he did indeed,  
For fight manfully he there was slain,  
The Scots do onward on their way proceed,  
Medoro half alive doth now remain:  
And still his breast in woeful sort doth bleed,  
The staff had cut therein so large a vain,  
And sure he had bled out his life and all,  
But for one rare good hap did him befall.   

12  
For lo, a damsel came, though meanly clad,  
In shepherds weeds, yet fresh and fair of favour,  
And such a one as in those base clothes had,  
A show of princely birth and high behaviour,  
She finding him lie there in case so bad,  

〈◊〉  Did think it charity to be his saviour:  
This was (if you forget) the Lady fair,  
That of Cataya was undoubted hair.   

13  
I showed you by what hap she got the ring,  
And how the same had filled her with such pride,  
And her into so high conceit did bring,  
That all her suitors now she flat denied,  
She careth not for Earl, nor Duke, nor King,  
Orlando she and Sacrepant defied,  
But chiefly she would blush and be ashamed,  
If she but happed to hear Renaldo named.   

14  
So great her folly grew, so vain her pride,  
As she esteemed all the world at nought,  

〈◊〉  The which when once the blind boy had espied,  
(Not blind when any mischief may be wrought)  
He will no longer this presumption bide,  
And for a fit occasion long he sought,  
And finding this, he thought himself now sped,  
And up he draws his arrow to the head.   

15  
Now when this Indian Queen did the●● behold  
A lovely youth lie dying in the place,  
His body feeble in a mortal cold,  
A deadly pale amid his lively face,  
A kind of passion strait on her took hold,  
That moved her mind to pity this his case,  
And much the rather when he did declare  
The woeful cause that bred him all this care.   

16  
She having learned of Surgery the art, 
This art at sir P. Sidney noteth in his Arcadia, was in great estimation in time past.   
An art which still the Indians greatly prize,  
Which fathers to their children do impart,  
Whose knowledge in tradition chiefly lies,  
Which without books the children learn by hart,  
I say Angelia doth then devise,  
By skill she had in juice of herbs and flowers,  
For to renew Medoros' lively powers.   

17  
And calling to her mind she late had seen,  
An herb whose virtue was to staunch the blood, 
Of Dittamy Virgil speaks 8. Aenead. D●ttamum generax Cresca carpit ab ●da.   
As Dittamie, or some such herb I ween,  
That for such purpose wholesome was and good,  
Straightway she seeks this herb upon the green,  
With all the haste and diligence she could,  
And finding it, she takes thereof a branch,  
Whose virtue was the course of blood to staunch.   

18  
Then coming back again, she met by hap,  
A silly shepherd seeking of his cow,  
That broke out of his ground at some small gap,  
And now was strayed he knew not where nor how,  
She prays him take the herbs were in her lap,  
(A servitor more fit to serve a sow)  
And bear her company unto the place,  
Where poor Medoro lay in dangerous case.   

19  
Then from their horse she and the shepherd light,  
And strait between two tiles those herbs she bruised  
And took the juice between her fingers bright,  
And so into the wound the same infused,  
Whose virtue great reviv'd Medoros' sprite,  
To find himself so well and kindly used,  
That doubt it was which most his wound did salve,  
The precious surgeon or the precious salve.   

20  
And now he had recovered so much force,  
As what with hers, and with the shepherds aid,  
He clamerd up upon the shepherds horse,  
Howbeit in the place so long he stayed,  
Until he saw his loved master's corpse,  
Into a grave with Cloridanos laid;  
And then, and not before he did agree,  
To do as he by her should pointed be.   

21  
From thence unto the shepherds house she went,  
And made her patient eke with her to go,  
And there to bide with him she was content,  
Till he were clearly rid of all his woe,  
But in this while she felt her heart relent,  
With sundry quames that wont not be so,  
And when his comely parsonage she saw,  
A secret heat she felt her heart to gnaw.   

22  
For while she healed his wound, another dart  
Did wound her thoughts and high conceits so deep,  
As now therewith was ravished her proud hart,  

ovid. 1. Metam. Herm●●● quod null●s 〈◊〉 est n●r 〈…〉.  Possessing it although she wake or sleep:  
Her wound to heal, there was no herb nor art,  
For more and more like flame the same doth creep,  
Yet her chief care is him to help and cure,  
That all this torment doth to her procure.   

23  
Thus while Medoro better grows and better,  
She feels herself tormented more and more,  
And he that for his love to her was debtor,  
Is he alone that plagueth her so sore:  
Wherefore though modesty awhile did her let,  
Yet now perforce no further she forbore,  
But plainly to Medoro told her grief,  
And at his hands as plainly asked relief.   

24  
O stout Orlando, valiant Sacrepant,  
O fierce Ferraw, ò hunderds more beside,  
Where are those valiant acts of which you vaunt?  
Where is your pomp, your glory and your pride?  
One poor Medore, all your desires doth daunt,  
One poor Medore doth all your power deride,  
And she whom all of you have wooed in vain,  
To woe Medoro doth not now disdain.   

25  
She suffers poor Medoro take the flower,  

Ovid ●n Fedras 〈…〉 pomaria car pere raniu; & 〈◊〉 pr●●am, del●gere v●g●● v●s●m.  Which many sought, but none had yet obtained,  
That fragrant rose that to that present hour  
Vngatherd was, behold Medoro gained,  
And over her to give him perfect power,  
With sacred rites a marriage was ordained,  
And with the veil of this so sacred order,  
She covers this her folly and disorder.   

26  
Now when the solemn marriage was done,  
Of which god Cupid asked the banes (I trow)  
She going forward as she hath begun,  
Continued there with him a month or more,  
From rising to the setting of the Sun,  
With him she doth sit, talk, lie, stand and go,  
Forgetting to all maidenly sobriety,  
That she of him could never have satiety.   

27  
If in the house she stayed, then would she crave  
Med●r● in the house with her to stay,  
It in the field she walk, then must she have  
M●●●r● lead or guide her in the way:  
And by a river in the shady cave,  
They oft did use to spend the heat of day:  

Virg 〈◊〉  Like to that cave where (shunning stormy wether)  
The Trojan Duke and Dido met together.   

28  

T●ere is not ●●●asure in pleasure itself of one may not ●vtter as, (as 〈…〉 in men● up to 〈◊〉 & were bound to say nothing of it as ●●● return he would be serve for it.  Amid these joys (as great as joys might be)  
Their manner was on every wall within,  
Without on every stone or shady tree,  
To grave their names with bodkin, knife or pin,  
Angelica and Medore, you plain might see,  
(So great a glory had they both therein)  
Angelica and Medore in every place,  
With sundry knots and wreaths they interlace.   

29  
Now when she thought in this well pleasing place,  
She had already made sufficient stay,  
And, for she longed to do Medore that grace,  
To give to him her kingdom of Catay,  
From whence she had been absent so long space,  
From this poor house she means to go away,  
Yet minds she ere she go, her host to please,  
With whom she found such pleasure and such ease.   

30  
Angelica had since she was a girl,  
Worn on her arm (as for Orlando's sake)  
A bracelet rich, of precious stone and pearl,  
Which as a token she of him did take,  
And though she had it of this worthy Earl,  
Yet did she thereof chiefest reckoning make,  
Not that the giver she did much esteem,  
But for the gift was rich, and so did seem.   

31  
By her this bracelet many years was worn,  
Not only in her time of peace and joy,  
But e'en when she remained most forlorn,  
And subject to each danger and annoy,  
Fu'n then when nakt as ever she was borne,  
The Orko came in hope her to enjoy:  
This bracelet (wanting store of coin and pence)  
She gives her host as for a recompense.   

32  
Next day betime she getteth on her way,  
And makes Medoro sole her Lord and guide,  
He kept her company both night and day,  
And none but he with her did go and ride;  
Their meaning is at Berselon to stay,  
A port in Spain, until they may provide  
A vessel, that with help of oar and wind,  
May them transport from Spanish seas to Ind.   

33  
But ere they were arrived at this port,  
They met a mad man of his wit bestraught,  
Besmeared with dirt and mire in filthy sort,  
His outward sense expelled with inward thought:  
This mad man made them but ill-favoured sport,  
And had made worse, had he them rightly caught,  
But as it was he put them in great danger, 
Of this 〈◊〉 find 〈◊〉 29. book 〈◊〉   
And flies at them as dogs do at a stranger.   

34  
But how she scaped and away did get  
With her new love, hereafter I declare:  
For why Marfisa I may not forget,  
And those with her that in the tempest are, 
Marfisa, Griffin, Aquilant, Sansonet, Astolfo.   
With Griffin, Aquilant and Sansonet,  
And th'English Duke that hath the horn so rare,  
Which five I left in danger and disease,  
Tossed terribly in the tempestuous seas.   

35  
Now while the wind continued blowing hard,  
And of his rage did small or nothing bate,  
The master sets his compass and his card,  
And calls to counsel first the master's mate,  
And then the mariners of best regard,  
Consulting of the weather and their state,  
And every one doth tell his guess and thought,  
Near to what coast the tempest had them brought.   

36  
Some say Lymisso, Tripoli some say,  
Some say Satila, full of rocks and sands,  
And swear that all of them were cast away,  
Except they keep aloof from off those lands;  
This causeth some to curse, and some to pray,  
And lift to heaven their woeful hearts and hands,  
Their stuff nor merchandise none care to save,  
But hurl the same into the greedy wave.   

37  
Well might they boast of iron heart and breast,  
That could at such a time be void of fear,  
The stout Marfisa at that time confessed,  
She wished with all her heart not to be there,  
So sore the swelling seas did them molest,  
As though it would the ship in pieces tear,  
Nor was there any sign the wind would cease,  
And that the sea would grant them any peace.   

38  

〈◊〉 was wort to ●● manner in 〈◊〉 dangers.  One makes a vow to visit holy tomb,  
Another to Galicia vows to go,  
Unto Saint james, some others unto Room,  
Or other hallowd places that they know.  
The matriners fear nought but want of room,  
Sea room they wish, then care they for no more,  
At four days end it cleared and waxed fair,  
Or were't the season, or their earnest praire.   

39  
And as the weather grew more clear and clear,  
They did discover plain a goodly cost,  
And to the port as they drew near and near,  
Borne in by tide, their sails and tackle lost,  
Behold a goodly city did appear,  
With towers and stately buildings of great cost,  
Of which when once the master was aware,  
It bred in him no little fear and care.   

40  
To cast his anchor strait he doth provide,  
For vain it was to labour to go back,  
The vessels wanted sails to stem the tide,  
The tempest had put all thing so to wrack,  
And yet he feared on the other side,  
They of the town would sure be on his jack;  
In fine so full his mind was of confusion,  
He knew not whereupon to make conclusion.   

41  
Now while he stood confused in this sort,  
The English Duke demands what cause of doubt  
Made him refuse so fair and safe a port,  
And strive against the stream to keep still out?  
Sir (quoth the master) briefly to report  
To you the cause, know this, that hereabout,  
And namely in that city dwells a nation,  
That use a barbarous and cruel fashion.   

42  

● country of Amazons, a mad law 〈◊〉.  They call them Amazon's that here do dwell,  
Here women guide, and rule, and govern all,  
The men from government they do expel,  
Some they do kill, the rest keep bond and thrall,  
He sole shall scape that runs at tilt so well,  
As first to make ten men of theirs to fall,  
And next in venery and flesh delight,  
Can satisfy ten women in one night.   

43  
And if a man perform the first of these,  
And have such hap to overthrow the men,  
And yet at night his force do fail to please,  
In act of generation damsels ten,  
He must be killed or drowned in the seas,  
Or kept a prisoner in some cave or den;  
But they that both perform, shall have their lives,  
And those ten damsels ever for their wives.   

44  
When as the pilot out his tale had told,  
Of women that delight in spoil and murder,  
The English Duke could hard his laughter hold,  
To hear of so fantastical an order,  
And all the five affirmed strait they would  
Land at this place, and go by sea no further,  
Each place to them was safe and out of fear,  
Where they might have the use of sword and spear.   

45  
But all the shipmen carried other minds,  
As men that better were to storms enured,  
And would have thought their lives in waves & winds  
More than in conflicts and in fights assured:  
But whether reason leads, or causes binds,  
Or that the better part the same procured,  
The ship with broken mast and tackle torn,  
By force of tide into the haven was borne.   

46  
No sooner was the vessel in the port,  
But strait a galley ready for such need,  
Stored with artillery of every sort,  
And one that could both row and sail with speed,  
Did board them, and (to make the matter short)  
A woman clad in grave and ancient weed,  
As old as Sibyl, 
Sibilla and Hecula very old women.  or as Hector's mother,  
Spoke in effect these words with many other.   

47  
My friends (quoth she) or yield or look to die,  
For hope is none to scape away by flight,  
But thus if any of you mean to try, 
Cornelius Agrippa in the vanity of sciences, writes that Hercules made fifty moulds women in one night.   
If he alone can vanquish ten in fight,  
And afterward with twice five maidens lie,  
And of them maids make women in one night,  
Then such a one shall rule among us chief,  
And save his friends from punishment and grief.   

48  
But if that any shall the fact attempt,  
And fail but in the first or in the last,  
Then he shall die because of his contempt,  
And into prison ye shall all be cast.  
They made her answer all they were content,  
Not one man there was therewithal aghast,  
For in both kinds the knights had so been proved,  
As with the danger they were nothing moved.   

49  
The English Duke with these three youths of France,  
Strait for this enterprise themselves prepare,  
But chief the Duke that doubted no mischance,  
By virtue of his book and horn most rare:  
Marfisa eke (though for the second dance  
She was not fit) so manly mind she bore,  
As she would needs her force and fortune try,  
And swore her sword all weapons should supply.   

50  
And strait they all agreed some lots to draw,  
And to conclude on her the hazard fell,  
But she that quite was void of fear and awe,  
Did promise to perform her office well:  
This sword (quoth she) shall abrogate this law,  

Alexander cut 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in p●ec● 〈◊〉 ne could 〈◊〉, called Go●●dio● 〈◊〉.  And plague them all that in this city dwell,  
And to undo these doubts I will provide,  
As Alexander Gordius knots vatide.   

51  
No fortreiner hereafter shall bewail  
The wicked law of this ungodly land:  
This said, she putteth on her coat of mail,  
In hope alone against ten men to stand.  
Then came the ten were pointed to assail,  
But he that was the foremost of the band,  
As far as by appearance might be guest,  
Was one that far surpassed all the rest.   

52  
His horse was black as pitch, or polish ieat,  
Save in one foot, and in his brow a star,  
A shining spot of white, not very great,  
A lofty rain, an eye that threatened war;  
Such as the horse, such was his own conceit,  
His sorrows did exceed his joys so far,  
And deadly care so drowned his small delight,  
As did the black the little spot of white.   

53  
This knight (that ever vantage did eschew)  
Would not accompany those other nine,  
But standeth still on horseback taking view,  
Which way the victory did most incline:  
Marfisa road a horse of dainty hue,  
Given unto her of late by Norandine,  
His colour pied powdered with many a spot,  
Small head, fierce look, clean limbed, and lofty trot.   

54  
Now when that given of battle was the sign,  
On her alone all nine at once did fly,  
And she alone sustained the force of nine:  
The tenth (I said) was quiet standing by,  
As one that did against that use repine,  
When more than one should seek to make one die;  
And with the first encounter thus she sped,  
She laid down four of them on ground for ded.   

55  
The fist she justles, and by force unhorses,  
And with a trunch the sixth she gave a blo.  
That to the ground both man and horse enforces,  
With mazed head, and faltering feet to go.  
The standers by admire her passing forces,  
And chief their wives that law them killed so,  

Simile.  For as a chainshot sweeps all in the way,  
So with those nine Marfisa then did play.   

56  
She bathed he blade in blood up to the hilt,  
And with the same their bodies all she mangled,  
All that abode her blows, their blood was spilled,  
They scaped best that here and thither wrangled,  
Or those whose horses overthrown at tilt,  
Lay with their masters on the earth entangled.  
Thus of nine enemies remained none,  
For all were killed, or maimed, or overthrown.   

57  
The knight that was arrayed in black attire,  
And stood aside, and saw this hardy fight,  
To show that he for fear did not retire,  
But to make known his curtsy shining bright,  
Strait steppeth out, and first he doth desire  
To speak with her whom he esteemed a knight,  
For he could not imagine nor suppose  
A woman could have given such manly blows.   

58  
And thus he saith, me seems the odds too great,  
That I of you should take to fight straightway,  
Sith both your horse and you are in a sweat,  
Mine offer is to respite you a day,  
Till you may be refreshed with rest and meat,  
That with mine honour fight with you I may,  
For I should think myself disgraced sore,  
To vanquish one wearid and spent before.   

59  
Wearied and spent (quoth she) alas the while,  
Think you I am so wearied and so spent?  
Your courteous offer causeth me to smile,  
To think how quickly you will it repent;  
You do deceive yourself, and much beguile,  
To think that I to pause would be content,  
I doubt not you shall find but little cause,  
(When you have tried) to offer me to pause.   

60  
Well, said the knight, if you will try it strait,  
That you accept, I cannot well refuse:  
Forthwith two spears of mighty strength & weight  
Were brought, and he doth bid Marfisa choose:  
Now was the Sun four hours past his height, 
Ac●●lch reserve 〈◊〉 and Ga●l●   
When as these two began their spears to use,  
The trumpets sound, they set their spears in rest,  
And each determining to do their best.   

61  
The spears in spells and sundry pieces flew,  
As if they had been little sticks or cane,  
Yet of the blows to both did hurt ensue.  
Their steeds were well-nigh brought unto their bane,  
Quite overthrown in all the people's view,  
As though their legs had quite fro them been ta'en,  
So both their horses tumbled on the ground,  
Yet both themselves from hurt were safe and sound.   

62  
An hundred and an hundred knights and more,  
Marfisa had subdued (it was well known)  
Yet such a chance she never had before,  
To have her horse so strangely overthrown:  
Also the knight that black apparel wore,  
Doth marvel whence this great mishap was grown,  
And not a little wondered at her force,  
That had so stoutly overthrown his horse.   

63  
Forthwith on foot the combat they apply,  
In which the tone the tother doth not spare,  
And either thinks to make the other die,  
And either of the tother doth beware.  
But all the while among the standers by.  
Appeared great attentiveness and care,  
For never could they guess from the beginning,  
Which of the two was in best hope of winning.   

64  

〈◊〉 conceit tl. at 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉.  Now 'gan Marfisa to herself to say,  
It happy was that he before stood still,  
For had he holp the other nine to day,  
No doubt with me it could have been but ill,  
That now alone so hard doth hold me play,  
As scant I save myself with all my skill,  
Thus to herself the stout Marfisa thought,  
And all the while courageously she fought.   

65  
Contrary, to himself the knight thus seth,  

〈◊〉 conceit that 〈◊〉 had of 〈◊〉.  'twas well for me, that he before was spent,  
For had he been but fresh in perfect breath,  
I doubt me that ere this I had been shent,  
Surely (thought he) I scant had scaped death,  
If he to rest himself had given consent.  
No question I did great advantage take,  
That he refused that offer I did make.   

66  
Thus did the combat long twixt them endure,  
And neither party boasted of their gain,  
Until the night's dark shadow and obscure,  
Did cover city, wood, and vale, and plain,  
And that that rest to all thing doth procure,  
Did force them two to respite this their pain;  
And first the knight thus said, what can we do?  
Behold how night is come to part us two.   

67  
You may said he one night prolong your life,  
And longer not, such is the cursed law,  
Against my will (God knows) I hold this strife,  
And now I fear and have no little awe,  
Lest every one that was to them a wife,  
Whom late you killed, will from your beds you draw  
For every one of those unhappy men,  
Whom erst you slew was husband unto ten.   

68  
So that for those same nine that you have slain,  
Nine times ten women seek revenge to take:  
Wherefore I wish that you and all your train,  
Within my roof this night abode do make,  
For so perhaps from wrong they will abstain,  
If not for right, at least for reverence sake.  
I'll take your offer sir, Marfisa saith,  
So that hereof to me you give your faith.   

69  
That as in fight you show your value great,  
As I have proved in this present place,  
So I may find your words without deceat,  
Lest falsehood should your noble deeds deface: 
〈◊〉   
I will accept your lodging and your meat,  
And will persuade my fellows in like case;  
But rather than for fear you should it think,  
Le's fight it out by light of torch and link.   

70  
And thus in fine they all of them agreed,  
That unto him that night they would be guest:  
Strait to a sumptuous palace they proceed,  
By torch light brought to chambers richly dressed,  
But when that each put off their warlike weed,  
Then each of them with wonder was possessed:  
She, that the knight did by his face appear,  
To be a boy of age but eighteen year.   

71  
And he, when by her hair her sex he knew,  
Wondered to see a woman of such might,  
As namely that in sight nine tall men slew,  
And after had with him prolonged the fight:  
And either pleased the others view,  
Behold the one the other with delight,  
Then each desired the others name to learn,  
As in th'ensuing book you shall discern.   
In the first staff of this Canto, 
Moral.  is an excellent moral of the pro●fe of friends, which my father many years since did translate almost word for word as I have set it down, applying it to his master, the worthy Lord Admiral Seymor: and because the verse was my fathers, I count I may without usurpation claim it by inheritance. He applied it to that noble peer (very aptly) divers ways: both for his life, and for his death, but specially (which I count worthy the noting) for his servants, who loved him so dearly, that even in remembrance of his honourable kindness, they loved one another exceedingly: and my father I remember, but a week before he died, which was in the year 1582. wrote with his own hand the names of those were then living of the old Admiralty (so he called them that had b●ne my Lords men) and there were then xxxiiij. of them living, of which many were knights and men of more revenue than himself, and some were but mean men, as armourers, artificers, keepers, and farmers; and yet the memory of his service, was such a band among them all of kindness, as the best of them disdained not the poorest, and the meaner had recourse to the greatest, for their countenance and aid in their honest causes, and many of them are even now living, and yet it wants little of forty years since that noble man was put to death. His picture my father gave after to the Queen's Majesty that now is, with a pretty verse written on it, and it hangs now in the gallery at Somerset house.  
That there were Amazons, 
History.  I think no man doubreth that hath read of Alexander's conquests.  
In Angelica's wedding of Medore I gather this Allegory, 
Allegory.  Angelica is taken for honour, which brave men hunt after, by blood, and battles, and many hardy feats, and miss it: but a good servant with faith and gratefulness to his Lord gets it. 
Allusion.   
Cloridan and Medore allude to Euryalus and Nisus in Virgil's Aeneads.  
The end of the notes of the nineteen. book.   

  

THE twentieth BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
With Guidon all his worthy guests agree,  
To break from th' Amazons the morrow morn:  
Astolfo doubting lest it would not be,  
Doth drive them thence and scares them with his horn:  
Zerbino laughs Gabrina gay to see;  
Marfisa seems to take it in great scorn,  
And 'gainst his will commits her to his guiding,  
By whom he hears of Isabella tiding.  

1  
RIght wódrous deeds by divers dames were done,  
In times of old, as well by sword as pen,  
Whereby their glory shined like the sun,  
And famous was both far and near as then,  

Harpalite and Camilla two no. table warriors.  The fame Harpalice in battle won,  
Camillas worth is eke well known to men,  

Corinna and Sappho, learned ●tuets.  Corinnas' praise, and Sappho are discerned,  
Above the rest, because they both were learned.   

2  
What art so deep? what science is so high,  
But worthy women have thereto attained?  
Who list in stories old to look, may try,  
And find my speech herein not false nor feigned,  
And though of late they seem not to come nigh,  
The praise their sex in former times have gained,  
No doubt the fault is either in backbiters,  
Or want of skill and judgement in the writers.   

3  
For sure I see in this our present age,  
Such virtuous parts in their sweet sex to grow,  
The young so sober, and the rest so sage,  
And all so chaste, as writers shall (I know)  
Have work enough to fill full many a page,  
With their great praise that from their worth will flow,  
To win the fame their ancestors did lose,  
And pass Marfisa not in few degrees.   

4  
But now ●o turn my speech to her again,  
I say that when the knight did ask her name,  
She made him answer, and did not disdain,  
To tell both what she was, and whence she came,  
Yet (as her fashion was) both brief and plain;  
She saith thus to the knight; I called am  
Marfisa: and she need to say no more,  
For all the world had heard the rest before.   

5  
The tother, 
Here beginneth the tale of the Amazons.  when his turn to speak came in,  
First making long and farther circumstance,  
In such like manner doth his tale begin,  
(And sighing deep) you all have heard perchance,  
Both of my father's house and of my kin,  
Of fame in Italy, in Spain and France:  
Forsure I am the house of Clarimount,  
In all the world is known and of account.   

6  
He that Charello and Mambrino slew,  
And did their kingdom's ruin and deface, 
Renaldo brother to Guidom, but not by the same venture.   
Out of one stock with me together grew,  
Although we were not all borne in one place,  
For why at lster flood (to tell you true)  
My father me begat, and in that case,  
My mother great with child he left behind,  
And went to France by help of sail and wind.   

7  
Thus seu'nteene years I lived like one exiled,  
Until I able was to break a lance,  
And for that place me seemed too base and vild,  
I mean to seek my friends and kin in France:  
They name me Guidon savage of a child, 
Guidon Se●ate, look in the table   
As yet I could not much my name advance,  
For hither by a tempest I was borne,  
As you were now, with ship and tackle torn.   

8  
Here first Argillon with nine me● I killed,  
A leau'n months since, and that same day at night,  
The office of an husband I fulfilled,  
Unto ten Amazons in flesh delight;  
This done, to take my choice then was I willed,  
Of any ten that pleased best my sight,  
And these remain my wives, and must until  
One come that me with other nine can kill.   

9  
Unto the knights this seemed a maru'lous story,  
And much they wondered at this government,  
They marvel that so great a territory,  
For want of men was not consumed and spent:  
They thought no less the women would be sorry,  
For want of men, to live so continent;  
'twas strange one man sufficed ten of these,  
Sith one with us can scant one woman please.   

10  
And strait they were inquisitive to know,  
When first this foolish order there began,  
And upon what occasion it did grow,  
That women in that country ruled man?  
Then Guidon answered thus, I shall you show  
The whole discourse as briefly as I can,  
According as myself have heard the same,  
Since (by mishap) into this realm I came.   

11  
When as the greeks had quite defaced Troy,  
And after twice ten years returned home,  
(For ten whole years in danger and annoy,  
Of surging seas they up and down did room)  
They found their wives that had but little joy,  
So long a time, to live and lie alone,  
Each one a lusty lover to have chosen,  
Lest with the cold they might be starved and frozen.   

12  
Their houses full of bastard brats they see:  
In fine, they purpose after consultation,  
To pardon all their wives and let them free,  
But for these boys that bred some altercation,  
To drive them out a door they do agree,  
And make them seek a foreign habitation;  
It was contrary much to their desires,  
That others brats should warm the at their fires.   

13  
Thus some thrown out. some close their mothers keep  
In corners, from their angry husband's sight,  
And when as elder years on them do creep,  
Each one betakes him to his most delight;  
Some plough, some get them herds of goats & sheep  
Some sciences, and some do learn to fight.  
Thus every one betook him to some trade,  
As he assigns that all the world hath made.   

14  
Among the rest that Art of war ensue,  

Look in the Histor●e of this book.  Phalanto son of Clytaemnestra Queen,  
But eighteen years of age, and ●resh of hue,  
And in the flower of youths well pleasing green,  
This one to him an hundred gallants drew,  
And getting ships and things that needful been,  
With writs of Mart (a thing that breeds much sorrow)  
He gets him to the sea, in mind to borrow.   

15  
Now while Phalanto with his cursed fleet,  
Abode at sea with that more cursed train;  
It fortund at that time that they of Crete,  
Had Idumeo driven out of his reign,  
Wherefore for better strength they thought it meet,  
Phalanto and his men to entertain.  
They give to him great hire, and great reward,  
The city of Ditea for to guard.   

16  
Ditea was a town of great estate,  
Rich and frequented with no small resort,  
And yields in plenty large, betimes and late,  
Of sundry kinds of pleasures and of sport;  
And as they all men used, so in like rate,  
They used their soldiers in so friendly sort,  
As though they had agreed by sound accords,  
To make them all their masters and their Lords.   

17  
But chief they found with women so great grace,  
As they won most of them unto their lure;  
But when the wars were ended in short space,  
And that their pay no longer did endure,  
They all prepared to leave this pleasant place,  
Which to the damsels did great grief procure;  
To lose their husbands, brother, or their father,  
Then these new lovers every one had rather.   

18  
And when they saw they could not make them stay,  
By no device of theirs, nor no request,  
They do agree with them to steal away,  
And take such things as were of value best;  
Thus came these damsels laden with their prey,  
And thence to sea, and were now gone at left  
An hundred leagues, with these new lawless lovers,  
Before Ditea this their flight discovers.   

19  
The wind so good then for their purpose blew,  
Phalanto quickly landed in this cost,  
And here the amorous and wanton crew,  
Unto their loves of this their lewdness boast;  
But now that saying was confirmed true,  
That pleasant things do often cloy the most: 
Sentence.   
And there can be a greater clog to no man,  
Then to be weary of a wanton woman.   

20  
Wherefore like men that were, and had been ever,  
Of gain most greedy, sparing of expense:  
They secretly consulting do endeavour,  
To take the goods, and then to steal from thence.  
Thus while the women still in love persever,  
They that regard not pleasure more than pence,  
Lode with their wealth, of which there was good store  
Stale to the sea, & left them on the shore.   

21  
Sore were the damsels daunted and dismayed,  
When once they saw their loves had the forsaken, 
Souen●●   
For what more spite can be, then be betrayed  
Of him to whom one hath herself betaken?  
And sith they find that weeping doth n●t aid,  
They mean betime some order shallbe taken,  
What they shall do, and how hereafter live,  
And every one doth strait her verdict give.   

22  
One home to turn again doth think it best.  
And to their kin and friends them to submit,  
And with repentance pardon to request,  
And vow the like fault never to commit;  
Another that good motion doth detest,  
And swears it showed the mover had no wit,  
And that with greater honesty or ease,  
They might go drown them headlong in the seas.   

23  
Among the rest one Orontea height,  
That lineally of Minos was descended,  
And past the rest in beauty and good spirit,  
And had less grievously than they offended,  
For to Phalanto she her troth did plight,  
And to have been his honest spouse intended:  
This one declareth thus her resolution,  
And makes the rest put it in execution.   

24  
She wishes them to tarry in this land,  

The commodity's of a gos●scats of a ci●e.  That had both fruitful earth and pleasant air,  
And fountains sweet, and woods on every hand,  
And meadows green, and pastures fresh and fair,  
Beside large hau'us, where ships at ease might stand,  
To which the merchants often made repair,  
By tempest driven, well laden with good traffic,  
Of things that come from Egypt and from Africa.   

25  
Wherefore this place she minds not to forsake,  
But that they may as chiefly they desire,  
A sharp revenge on men for ever take,  
They vow to put to sack, to sword and fire,  
Such ships as to their haven repair do make,  
And kill the men, and this they all conspire:  
And still when any come, this trade they use,  
Nor left a man alive to carry news.   

26  
But when this cruel law some years had lasted,  

There were too m●● spea●ers 〈◊〉; in their Parliam●● when they made such a law as ●●●y ●ive driue●●ot●ange 〈…〉.  Which they had meant to have confirmed for ay,  
They find that they so fast consumed and wasted,  
That this their barren kingdom would decay,  
Except to find some remedy they hasted,  
And having long consulted on the way,  
They mean of this their law to bate some rigour,  
Yet leave the substance still in strength and vigour.   

27  
And thus they do, they choose among such men,  
As tempests drive to this their wicked nation,  
Some few as were so lusty, as with ten  
They could perform the act of generation,  
All in one night, the rest into a den  
They cast, and kill them in most cruel fashion,  

The Romans did use to build altars to all the affections of the mind, as fear, ●ope, and such like.  And build unto revenge a solemn altar,  
And over this they make them stretch a halter.   

28  
Such men as live are to this order sworn,  
To kill all such as hither shall repair,  
And all men children that to them are borne,  
They sell or change as in an open fair,  
So when some die with age and weakness worn,  
Then other women do the want repair,  
Their power and number thus doth still increase,  
Their wealth & pomp augmented, with long peace.   

29  
But after many years it thus befell,  
Elbanio, one of Hercles' noble race,  
A comely tall strong man, and favoured well,  
And in his speech and manners passing grace,  
Arrived where these homicids do dwell,  
And ere he knew the fashion of the place,  
The cruel sergeants took him as they found him,  
And like a felon hand and foot they bound him.   

30  
It fortund as they carried him to slaughter,  
Among the rest that did the same behold,  
Was Alessandra, Oronteas daughter,  
A fine young girl, about twice eight year old,  
Elbanio humbly as he went besought her,  
To be a mean this foul death to withhold,  
That like a man he might be killed at least,  
And not be drawn to slaughter like a beast.   

31  
To beg my life (quoth he) it were a vanity,  
(Which in your service I would gladly spend)  
Where human hearts be void of all humanity,  
But all the suit that I to make intent,  
(Which to deny were too too much immanity)  
Is this, that thus my life I may not end,  
But with my sword in hand to fight with men,  
With seven at once, or eight, or nine or ten.   

32  
This he to her, thus she to him replies,  
Though to mankind we all profess hostility,  
Yet think not (this she spoke with watery eyes)  
That all our hearts are void of all gentility,  
What Progne or Medea could despise 
Progne and Medea two cruel bloody women.   
Your passing beauty, courage and nobility?  
And were my fellows all so ill inclined,  
Yet I myself would bear a better mind.   

33  
And though the rigour of our law be such,  
That no man can obtain a pardon free,  
And e'en this small you ask, to grant is much,  
If our law strictly should observed be,  
Yet such remorse I feel my heart doth touch,  
To grant thy suit if others will agree  
Although I fear thou wilt in such a strife,  
Prolong thy pain, and not preserve thy life.   

34  
Oh (said Elbanio) blessed were such a day,  
That in the field my manhood I might try,  
Could but your credit carry such a sway,  
Not ten, but ten times ten I would defy.  
This said, she caused the execution stay,  
And to her mother goes she by and by,  
With thousand stings of Cupid in her breast,  
And unto her expoundeth his request.   

35  
Straight Orontea doth her counsel call,  
And in such sort thereof to them she spoke,  
In guarding of our haven and city wall,  
'tis good that of the strongest men we take: 
Oronteas oration in Elbanios' behalf.   
Therefore to know who be most stout and tall,  
I think it very good some proof to make,  
For else we shall unto ourselves do wrong,  
To save the weaker men, and kill the strong.   

36  
And who can wish to make a better trial,  
Then for one man to fight with five and five,  
And if he vanquish them and make them die all,  
'twere certes meet he should be kept alive:  
Thus Orontea said, and they reply all,  
That in this point with her they cannot strive,  
Save old Artemia (carrion withered jade)  
Misliked the motion, and this answer made.   

37  

Artemias' oration against Elbanio.  The cause that first we did some men admit,  
Was not to keep our hau'ns or city wall,  
For we ourselves have strength enough and wit,  
To keep our town (I trust) and ever shall.  
Were we as well for procreation fit,  
Without man's help, not one should live at all;  
Now for necessity some few we spare,  
Such as most able for that service are.   

38  
This motion quite gainsaith our ancient law,  
To keep one man as strong as half a score:  
How many women would he keep in awe?  
Had we ten such we should bear rule no more.  
And further, 'tis an old and certain saw,  
Both used and proved many years before,  

Sentence.  That they that give a weapon to their stronger,  
Are like themselves to carry rule no longer.   

39  
But put the case this one by our consent,  
And his good hap ten of the others kill,  
How shall an hundred widows than lament,  
That long must he alone against their will?  
If he an hundred women would content,  
Then him to save I should not think it ●ll,  
Then were he to be loved, admired and wondered,  
If he alone could satisfy an hundred.   

40  
This cruel speech did all the rest displease,  
And loath they were Elbanio should be slain,  
His comely shap their sharpness did appease,  
And chiefly she that over all did reign,  
Doth seek herein her daughter's mind to please,  
With many reasons answring her again,  
And point by point did all her speech confute,  
And in the end obtained her daughter's suit.   

41  
Thus to Elbanio pardon they impart,  
Provided if he overcome the men,  
And after bravely play the husband's part,  
Not with an hundred women, but with ten.  
Elbanio thanketh them with cheerful hart,  
Then was he freely loosed from the den:  
In fine, when all things ready were ordained,  
In both exploits the conquest he obtained.   

42  
Then Allessandra, in whose tender mind  
Love had already made so deep impression,  
With other nine, were unto him assigned.  
And princely mace was put in his possession.  
But first by solemn vow they do him bind,  
To hold this law for ever by succession,  
To sacrifice all men, save such as try,  
To kill ten men, and with ten women lie.   

43  
And though that many have in ages past  
Attempted both, yet few have had success,  
To scape the first exploit, and try the last,  
In which to fail, the danger were no less,  
But he that both performs, forthwith is placed  
In princely seat, and free from all distress:  
And this their law (as by records appears)  
Already lasted hath two thousand years.   

44  
The last but I, that held this cursed place,  
Argillon height, whom I in combat killed,  
And him and his thereby I did displace,  
And then their rooms with me and mine I filled,  
Where we have tarrid now a tweluemoneths' space,  
Among these wights of goodness all unskilled,  
And lead a life full of disdain and scorn,  
As better had been never to be borne.   

45  
For why these dallyings and wanton toys,  
That wont are to please our foolish youth,  
With costly fare, gay clothes, and Venus' joys,  
Of which repentance is the fruit ensueth,  
Doth breed to me but anguish and annoys,  
And pensive cares, 
Non bon● y●● ful●● leberi● vendu●r ●me.  and ever during ruth;  
And chiefly when unto my mind I call,  
My liberty is lost, and I a thrall.   

46  
To lose my lusty time in this vile place,  
Removed from kin and friends, and country far,  
A woeful and remediless disgrace,  
Moved by some ill aspect of angry star, 
Simile. This Simile Ta●● 〈…〉   
e'en as a stallion kept for breed and race,  
Whom some mishap hath made unfit for war,  
By loss of fight and foundering of his feet,  
For service quite unable and unmeet.   

47  
The while this tale the savage Guidon told,  
The English Duke that all this while stood by, 
The end of the Amazons tale.   
And heard his speech, and did his face behold,  
And noted all his grace with watchful eye,  
And made by all these observations bold,  
He runneth to embrace him by and by,  
And said, dear cousin, I were much to blame,  
Except I loved the house from whence you came.   

48  
Your mother could not tie a better lace  
About your neck, to make your lineage known,  
Then this your value in this present place,  
Against Marfisa in the battle shown:  
I am Astolfo one of Ammo●s race,  
Friend to your house, and kinsman of your own,  
I much rejoice to find by this mischance,  
So near a kinsman so far off from France.   

49  
But he that otherwise would have been glad,  
To meet a friend, a Prince of kin so near,  
Now on the other side he was full sad,  
And showed the same in countenance and cheer,  
For every way the sequel must be bad,  
For if he win they die, the case is clear,  
And if he do not win, he is but ded,  
Thus by one's good the tother's harm is bred.   

50  
On th'other side his years and tender age,  
Did all of them so far with pity move,  
And did Marfisas' heat so much aslwage,  
Her enmity was well-nigh turned to love:  
At last she makes a motion wise and sage,  
Which was, that all to scape by force should prove,  
She swears if he would take part with his cozen,  
Not all the town could vanquish that half dozen.   

51  
Most glad (said Guidon) I would take your part,  
Though vain it is against so great a number,  
To enterprise by force hence to depart,  
Their very multitude will us so cumber:  
For often (to the terror of mine hart)  
Ten thousand armed women I do number  
Here in the streets, and with as many more,  
They do defend the port, the haven and shore.   

52  
Tush (quoth Marfisa) this I not regard,  
Were they in number as the sands of seas,  
To valiant hearts no enterprise is hard,  
Take you but part, and join with me and these.  
Yes, answered Guidon, be I made or marred,  
Or be't with pain, with danger or disease,  
I will take part with you, but if I may,  
I would advise you to a safer way.   

53  
If we this matter wisely take in hand,  
This is the safest way that I do know,  
They let no men to touch the salt sea sand,  
Lest any should attempt from hence to go:  
And sith 'tis hard their forces to withstand  
I'll try a better way than that, I trow,  
Among my ten I have one special wife,  
Upon whose trust I venture dare my life.   

54  
She shall a bark provide in secret sort,  
And other needful things for us prepare,  
And when as to the tiltyard they resort,  
And of our fight in expectation are,  
We suddenly will make unto the port,  
And ship ourselves ere any be aware:  
To lead the way myself I am content,  
So you and yours to follow will consent.   

55  
Marfisa strait and all the rest agreed,  
That Guidon for that time should be their guide,  
And that accordingly they would proceed,  
As he for them had promised to provide:  
Though (said Marfisa) saving this my weed,  
My shape and sex from all of them doth hide,  
I know myself from harm could be excused,  
And of them all both welcome and well used.   

56  
But now (said she) such part I mind to take,  
As you shall taste (how good or bad it prove)  
That night with his Aleria Guidon spoke,  
(So was her name that bore him chiefest love)  
And points that she provision good should make,  
For things that needful were for their remove.  
And she no time, nor pain, nor travel spared,  
But out of hand a galley strait prepared.   

57  
And that her fellows might no fraud suspect,  
To go to seek a prize she doth pretend,  
And with great diligence she doth direct,  
All means to serve their passage to defend:  
And they within no time nor mean neglect,  
To bring their stout designment to an end  
Thus every one their charge so well attended.  
That ere the morning all was done and ended.   

58  
No sooner came the dawning of the day,  
But that those Amazons like bees in swarms,  
That seek new dwellings in the month of May,  
So came they well appointed all in arms,  
To see an end of that unended fray,  
Not looking for such new and strange alarms,  
For strait those six I named and all their train.  
Came with intent to scape or else be slain.   

59  
First Guidon breaks the way to all the rest,  
Soon after him Marfisa did ensue,  
Then Sansonet and th'English Duke were priest,  
And next two brothers came, than all the crew;  
But yet with numbers they were so oppressed,  
Both with the shafts they shot, and darts they threw,  
That notwithstanding all they had devised,  
They were in danger great to be surprised.   

60  
But when the English Duke the danger saw,  
Unto himself these words or such he said,  
I see our foes in troops together draw,  
I see our friends are weakened and dismayed,  
Now will I strike our enemies in awe,  
Now will I bring out friends unlooked for aid,  
With this he took his horn and blew a blast,  
That made the hearers every one aghast.   

61  
So great a terror in their minds was bred,  
That strait as if with spirits they had been scared,  
This way and that confusedly they fled,  
And left the gates without defence or guard,  
As tumults often are at stage-plays bred, 
Simile.   
When false reports of sudden fires are heard,  
Or when the overladen seats do crack,  
One tumbling down upon another's back.   

62  
One breaks a leg, another breaks an arm,  
And some are choked and stifled in the press,  
Some kill themselves for fear of further harm.  
And whence the danger comes they cannot guess,  
But all of them in hast themselves unarm,  
And unto fearful flight themselves address:  
Nor women only with this feat are punished,  
But even the men themselves were all astonished.   

63  
Yea even Marfisas courage, late so fierce,  
(So great a virtue this enchantment bad)  
That strange and sudden fear the same did pierce,  
And she by flight to save herself was glad:  
The knights likewise whom late I did rehearse,  
And all the men, as if they had been mad,  
To seaward fled as doth a fearful Dove, 
Simile.   
When any noise doth scare her from about.   

64  
Thus doth the blast annoy both friends and foes,  
Yet so as all the men to shipboard went:  
〈◊〉 still about the city goes,  
For them to terrify is his intent,  
And more and more in all the streets he blows,  
And chiefly those where they do most frequent,  
The while his trends were now to shipboard gotten,  
And launched out, and him had quite forgotten.   

65  
The ship A●era did before provide,  
And Guidon taking ship with all the rest,  
Would not con●ent near to the shore to bide,  
Put stale away with dreadful fear possessed.  
Now came the Duke unto the waterside,  
And seeing all were gone, he thought it best  
Some other mean and way to take in hand,  
By which he might convey him home by land.   

66  

He●roceed●●h to 〈…〉 22 〈◊〉, 〈…〉.  But how he gate him home, and there did speed,  
When from those countries he was come to France,  
And how his horn did stand him in great steed,  
Defendng him from danger and mischance,  
Hereafter I will show, n●w I proceed  
To her whose deeds do still her name advance,  
I mean Marfisa stout, that made great haste  
To shun the hearing of the fearful blast.   

67  
But when they were removed from the shore,  
By help of sails and oars, so great a space,  
As now the fearful sound was heard no more,  
Each thought them guilty of a great disgrace,  
And of their fear they were ashamed so ●ore,  
One shunned to look another in the face,  
The while their bark had so good wind and wether,  
As all arrived in Tyrrhen seas together.   

68  
And to Marfisa thence by sea they went,  
Where Brai●mant bore all the rule and sway,  
Who late as governess was thither sent,  
Though thence she had been absent many a day:  
For h●d she present been, by her assent,  
Vnenterta●●d they should not go away.  
Here when they were refresh: with meat and rest,  
Marfisa took her leave of all the rest.   

69  
And said she thought it great disgrace and shame,  
So many in one company to see,  

Simile.  For crows (quoth she) and pigeons do the same,  
And ●eere, and sheep, and beasts that fearful be,  
But Falcons that do fly at stately game,  
With other birds and beasts in their degree,  
That fear not others force, and trust their own,  
Shun company, and l●ue to go alone.   

70  
But yet the rest that were of other mind,  
Together kept, and bad the Dame farewell,  
Until by hap a castle they did find,  
Wherein a Lord of great estate did dwell,  
That in appearance courteous seemed and kind,  

Of th● he spea●es sard●r in the 22. book, 41 stasse.  But not in acts, as after I shall tell,  
For he surprised them all that night asleep,  
And made them swear a cruel law to keep.   

71  
The while Marfisa on her way doth ride,  
Apparelled like a knight of some renown,  
And as she passed by the river side,  
She met a woman in a tawny gown,  
Ill-favoured, crooked, old and hollow eyed,  
Her forehead furrowed with continual frown,  
Her body tired with travel and ill fare,  
Her guilty mind afflicted more with care.   

72  
This filthy hag, this carrion withered jade,  
Was she whom in the cave Orlando found, 
Gabrin●.   
When of the thieves such massacre he made,  
That kept fair Isabella under ground:  
This wretch that holp them in that wicked trade,  
And feared the plague that might on her redound,  
Fled from all company for fear of danger,  
Until she happed to light upon this stranger.   

73  
And for she saw her clad in strange array,  
Though graceless, yet she gathers heart of grace,  
And at the ford her coming she doth stay,  
And when Marfisa came unto the place,  
Sir knight (for so she seemed) I shall you pray,  
(Said this old bag) to do me so much grace,  
That on your horse behind you I may ride,  
Till I be past the stream on th'other side.   

74  
Marfisa that was ever from her cradle,  
Of courteous kind, doth grant her desire,  
And made her clamber up behind her saddle,  
To pass the river and a filthy mire,  
That to●●● horse had almost been a stable:  
And when they were ascended somewhat higher,  
They met a fair young Lady with a Knight,  
Both richly clad, both comely to the sight.   

75  
But both their minds were false, their manners bad,  
And therefore matched together very fit,  
For he was Pinnabell, that lately had  
Fair Bradamant deceived at Merlin's pit. 
In the second book.   
She was his love, for whom he was so sad,  
When Bradamant on him did hap to hit,  
Till after by this noble Damsels mean,  
That strange enchantment was dissolved clean.   

76  
This Lady that was Pinnabelloes love,  
And was both proud and scornful of behaviour,  
And sees this hag, did strait her laughter move,  
To scorn her writhled skin and evil favour:  
For which Marfisa stout doth her reprove,  
And with a sharp reply she strait doth brave her,  
Because (quoth she) I fin● thou dost disdain her,  
Against thy knight and thee I will maintain her.   

77  
I say this woman fairer is than thou,  
Now let thy knight come fight in thy defence,  
For I by force my saying will avow,  
And if that I prevail, ere thou go hence,  
Thou shalt thy horse and garments all allow  
To this old woman for a recompense.  
Then Pinnabell to fight doth him address,  
Because in manhood he could do no less.   

78  
But when they met (Marfisas passing force,  
Was such) she quickly vanquished the knight,  
And overthrew him quite beside his horse.  
This done, she makes the stately dame to light,  
And with the aged woman clothes to scorse,  
At which the tone took sport, the other spite,  
She took likewise the Lady's ambling nag,  
And thereupon she sets the trotting hag.   

79  
Who in this youthful tire and rich array,  
Doth look in show more ugly than before,  
Thus three days with Marfisa she did stay,  
Before they happed to meet with any more;  
The fourth they met Zerbino on the way,  
The Scottish Prince that would have saved Medore,  
And now in anger great the Scot pursued,  
That in his presence proved himself so rude.   

80  

Zerbino.  Now though Zerbino were but ill paid,  
Yet was he strait with laughter great surprised,  
To see an aged woman so arrayed,  
In youthful clothes as though she were disguised:  
And to Marfisa merrily he said,  
Sir knight it seemeth you are well advisd,  
To get so fair a piece to carry by you,  
As you are sure that no man will envy you.   

81  
The woman seemed some hundred years of age,  
Her withered skin such store of wrinkles had,  
And like an ape or monkey in a cage,  
So looked she in this apparel clad:  
But now she looked worse, when with new rage,  
Her eyes inflamed were, and she half mad:  
For what more spite can be a woman told,  
Then if one say she looketh foul and old?   

82  
Marfisa seemeth wroth (to make some sport)  
And thus she saith, surcease your standrous tongue,  
Your virtue of her beauty cometh short,  
She is (in spite of you) both fair and young:  
And if you dare contrary my report,  
Or that hereby you feel your courage stoung,  
I will maintain against you every word,  
On horse, or foot, by spear or else by sword.   

83  
Zerbino at this challenge did but laugh,  
And said he would not lose their friendship so:  
'tis fit (quoth he) that swine should feed on draff,  
I am not I, so mad and fond I trow,  
For her to draw a sword or break a staff,  
But as you came you may together go:  
No doubt you are a fitly matched pair,  
If you as lusty be as she is fair.   

84  
Wherefore I list not pain and travel take,  
To get a conquest better lost then won:  
Then (answered stout Marfisa) I will make  
Another offer which you may not shun,  
On this condition let us for her sake,  
A course at field one with the other run:  
That if you win than I will keep her still,  
If I, than you shall serve he while she will.   

85  
Content (quoth Zerbin) and with that they ran,  
With couched spears, and met amid the plain;  
But Zerbin had the worse, Marfisa won,  
As better horsed, and stronger of the twain:  
Who seeing Zerbin down, she then began,  
To talk with him and jest with him again,  
Behold (quoth she) I here to you present,  
This lovely damsel for your more content.   

86  
Now see you keep your promise and your troth,  
To this fair dame to be a champion true,  
And do not break the bands of sacred oath,  
And so (quoth she) for now I bid adieu.  
Zerbin was moved with shame and anger both,  
Shame for his foil, a thing most strange and new:  
And wrath for her whom he thereby did gain,  
Which he might deem the greater loss of twain.   

87  
Then of his mistress new he doth inquire, 
Though it is n●● set down how Gabrina knew Marfisa to be a woman, yet it is to be gathered that in 3. days company thee might know it.   
What knight it was that did him overthrow,  
She willingly did grant him his desire,  
Supposing to his grief might greater grow,  
It was a Lady in a knight's attire,  
Marfisa height (quoth she) that laid you low,  
The which strange news I think not much did lack  
To make his armour blush upon his back.   

88  
Upon his horse in anger great he gets,  
And cursed himself he had not sit more sure,  
He bites his lips, and inwardly he frets, 
Simile.   
And she in him more anger to procure, 
Horace hath this sinulitude of a● ass.   
With biting words his discontentment whets;  
Yet he doth for his oath sake all endure,  
Like tired horse he quiet all abides, 
Demitto auriculas, ut ●●ique mentis a sellus. But this of a horse is more wort●●●.   
That hath the bit in mouth, and spurs in sides.   

89  
At last into this bitter plaint he burst,  
On thee o fortune well I may complain,  
And call myself unhappy and accursed,  
That dost at once two plagues for me ordain,  
Two plagues that of all plagues I count the worst,  
As first this foil, my former fame to stain;  
And having lost a Lady of rare features,  
To have this mistress, foulest of all creatures.   

90  
She, 
He had heard news that Isabella was drowned by some flying report.  whose surpassing beauty well deserved,  
All worldly bliss, whose match was never found,  
She from misfortune could not be preserved,  
But that by cruel storms she must be drowned,  
And this, who if she had been rightly served  
Aught longer this, have fed worms under ground,  
Thou hast these many years and still dost save,  
That I by her at last this plague might have.   

91  
By these and such like words as Zerbin spoke,  
That aged woman gives a sured guess;  
That this was he, to whom, and for whose sake,  
Fair Isabella (kept erst in great distress,  
There where Orlando did from thieves her take)  
Was wont so great affection to profess,  
And to describe his parts and shape so true,  
As every one might know him at a view.   

92  
And now that by his words she plainly found,  
That this was Zerbin, and that he believed  
Fair Isabella was in tempest drowned,  
With which conceit she saw he sore was grieved,  
She that did know her to be safe and sound,  
Yet meaning not his grief should be relieved,  
She telleth only that that would disease him,  
And doth conceal that which she thought would please him.   

93  
You sir (quoth she) that me so greatly scorn,  
If you but knew what tidings I could tell,  
Other whom you lament as dead and lost,  
You would both speak me fair and use me well:  
But first I will with horses wild be torn,  
And suffer all the pains of earth and hell,  
Before that I will condescend to show it,  
Or then by me you ever come to know it.   

94  
Look how a gentle grewnd, that doth assail  

Simile.  And flies upon a stranger at the furst,  
Will on the lodaine faun and wag his tail,  
If ●o of bread one proffer him a crust:  
So Zerbin that before on her did rail,  
And bitterly unto her face her cursed,  
Now he inteates her, and doth pray and flatter,  
To give him farther notice of the matter.   

95  
At last with long entreaty she replies,  
And faith, fair Isabella is not ded,  
But so she lives, that sure she death envies:  
And never hope to have her maidenhed,  
For I have seen (quoth she) with these mine eyes,  
How twenty lawless men her captive led,  
And every one might have her at their pleasure,  
As having liberty, and lust, and leisure.   

96  
Ah wicked hag, thou knowst it is a lie,  
And yet behold how thou canst paint it out,  
Thou knowst that none of them with her did lie,  
Thou knowst Orlando thence did fetch her out:  
And made the malefactors all to die,  
That of her danger now there was now doubt.  
But now alas this lying story bred,  
A thousand jealousies in Zerbines' head.   

97  
He asked herwhere and when his love she saw,  
He speaks her oftentimes both soul and fair;  
But not a word more could he from her draw,  
Neither by threatening words, nor yet by prayer:  
He feels a corzie cold his heart to gnaw,  
His little hope was turned to great despair:  
And thus this old ilfavord spiteful Callet, 
Callet is a nickname that they use to a woman, is signifies 〈◊〉 Irish a witch.   
Gave good Zerbino such a choking fallet.   

98  
What patience thus provoked could have borne,  
At such a woman's hands so vile a spite?  
And save he was unto her service sworn,  
No doubt he would have done her then her right.  
Thus she of malice full, and be of scorn,  
Went on their way, until they met a knight:  
But what became hereof if you will know,  
The book ensuing shall the sequel show.   
In the tale of Phalanto and his company, 
Moral.  women may note the notable inconstancy of young men's dishonest loves, how sweet and pleasant so ever they be at the first. In Pynabello and his wife that scorned Gabrinas old age and deformity, we may observe the soul sin and the just punishment of pride and contempt of others. In the good Zerbino, that for his promise sake suffers himself to be so notoriously abused of a spiteful malicious old wretch, we may mark a notable example of a man true and faithful of his word.  
In the beginning of this book he reciteth the names of four women famous, 
History.  two for war, two for learning, and indeed there have been many more, excellent in either kind: as Thomeris that killed Cyrus, Zenobea, Hipsicratea wife to Mythridates, Deborah the Hebrew, whom the Scripture commendeth; Valesca queen of Boemia, Thenca queen of Slavonia, Amalasunta queen of the Goths: All these are famous for their wise government. And for learning divers women have greatly excelleds as Eriana, Aspasia, Cleobulyna, Theana, Leontio, Manto, Hicostrata, Carmenta, the Sibyls, Sulpicia. But for a perfect pattern of excellency in both kinds, both in governing the common wealth most wisely, peaceably, prosperously, and skill in all kind of learning, and languages, Greek, Latin, French, Italian and Spanish I may say it truly, and without flattery, that our gracious sovereign is to be preferred before any of them, yea before all of them, and therefore may justly be called the rewell, or rather the wonder of all her sex.  
All the Allegorical matter of this book is only in Astolfos horn, 
Allegory.  of which I have spoken before this.  
The tale of the Greeks coming home from Troy, 
Allusion.  and finding so many bastards, alludes to a like hap that fell unto the Spartants when they made war on the Messenians; from whence one in deed named Falanto or Phalanto with other bastards called Parthenians went to the Oracle to know what they should do, and were directed by the said Oracle to go to Tarentam: Their answer they received of the Oracle was this, 
Statireum, & pingue solum, tibitrado Tarenti  
Incolere, & latè sedem per japygasaedes,  So as they taking heart upon this, went from Sparta, and as some think built the city of Tarentum.  
The end of the notes upon the xx. book.   

  

THE XXI. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Most worthy Zerbin by his promise bound,  
Defends Gabrina most unworthy wight,  
And for her sake he overthrows to ground  
Hermonida, unlucky Flemish knight:  
Who doth to him her most lewd life expound,  
Increasing by his speech, her cruel spite:  
Yet still the good Zerbino travels with her,  
And many a weary mile they road together.  

1  
NOr Iron nails make fast a plank or board  
More firm, nor cords a burden surer bind,  

〈…〉  Then faith once given by promise or by word,  
Ties most assuredly the virtuous mind,  
Old times to us good store of samples ford,  
How praise divine was unto faith assigned,  
And how in garments white she still was painted,  
That echimal spot or stain might show her tainted.   

2  
Faith ever should be kept in secret sort,  
Although to one, or whether given to more,  
Although in deserts far from all resort,  
Or else a judge or multitude before:  
What though the witness wants to make report?  

Real the mora● upon u●● the end of the book.  Yet must we keep our covenant evermore,  
As well by word and private protestation,  
As by record and public obligation.   

3  
And so did Zerbin as before I told,  
His promise firm unuiolate preserve,  
And though Gabrina was both foul and old,  
Though her misdeeds all rigour did deserve:  
Yet he his faith and promise firm doth hold,  
And left his former business her to derue,  
Till as they traveled on the way by chance,  
They met a Flemish knight late come to France.   

4  
The knight of statute comely was and tall,  
And in his shield he bore an azure bend,  
His name Ermonida they use to call,  
It seemed he was not this old woman's friend,  
For strait his fight her heart did to appall,  
Unto her guide her life she doth commend:  
And prayed him (as he promised) to vouchsafe,  
From this her enemy to keep her safe.   

5  
This man (quoth she) my guiltless father killed,  
For malice only that to me he bore:  
This man my only brother's blood hath spilt,  
Because he wished my safety and welfare:  
Yet with revenge his rage cannot be filled,  
But still he seeks to work my farther care.  
Well (quoth Zerbino) be of better cheer,  
For none shall do thee harm whilst I am hear.   

6  
Now when the knight of Flaunders saw that face,  
That of all faces he did most detest:  
With me to combat in this present place,  
You must prepare (quoth he) and try your best,  
Or yield to me this woman void of grace,  
That as she hath deserved she may be dressed:  
If you resistance make you will be slain,  
For so it falls to such as wrong maintain. 
Sentence.    

7  
Zerbino courteously doth thus reply,  
Bethink yourself with more consideration, 
Sentence.   
To make a woman of your hand to die,  
What stain it is to knightly reputation;  
As for the combat if you needs will try,  
Her to defend is my determination:  
For I am sworn to fight in her defence,  
And therefore cannot with mine oath dispense.   

8  
This and to this effect much more in vain  
He spoke, him from his purpose to persuade,  
At last they were so kindled with disdain,  
That one the other fiercely did invade:  
Zerbino was the stronger of the twain,  
And strake the tother through the shoulder blade,  
So as he fell half dead and half alive,  
Not able any more with him to strive.   

9  
But Zerbin doubting left he had been dead,  
With much compassion from his horse did light,  
And first he loosed his helmet from his head,  
And seeketh to revive him if he might;  
Who looking firmly on Zerbino, sed,  
I cannot much lament that such a knight,  
Hath hurt me in this fight and overthrown,  
In whom such value and such worth is shown.   

10  
In this alone my hap I do lament,  
That it should be for such a woman's sake,  
And much I marvel that you would consent,  
To your protection such a one to take,  
Which I am sure you would full sore repent,  
If I to you her deeds should open make,  
And that you should so greatly damage me,  
For such a wicked caitive as is she.   

11  

Here beginneth the tale of Gabrina.  And save my voice and strength will fail I doubt,  
Before my tale will come to perfect end,  
I will declare if you will hear it out,  
The wicked life of this ungracious send;  
I had a brother valorous and stout,  
In Holland borne, who (for he did intend  
To win by service honour and renown)  
Heraclio served that bare of Greece the crown.   

12  
A noble Gentleman Argeo height,  
Near the confines of Servia did dwell,  
Who in my brother took so great delight,  
That in short space they were acquainted well,  
Argeo married had this cursed wight,  
Of whom the present story I do tell,  
And took in her (unworthy) so great pleasure,  
As past the bands of reason and of measure.   

13  

Simile. Ou●●ed il is 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉 places O●e in 〈◊〉 Tu● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 cum sine pondere succi, Mob●●us ventis 〈◊〉 fac●ia volani.  But she more light than leaves in Autumn season,  
That every blast doth blow about and change,  
Against all wively care, all cause and reason,  
Because she doth delight herself in change,  
With wicked hart and head full fraught with treason,  
So far she lets her raging love to range,  
She sues to have my brother to her lover,  
And doth to him the foul desire uncover.   

14  

* A●● in the third of the ●●tamor. No ●● 〈◊〉 sroudes a 〈◊〉, I am● male ho. 〈◊〉. ventus.  But neither doth a rock more firmly stand  
Upon the shore against the surging wave,  
●●Nor doth the Cedar more upon the land  
Resist the tempest that doth rage and rave,  
Then doth my brother her desire withstand,  
Though she at sundry times the same doth crave,  

●Simile  And though she seeketh many a mean and trial,  

●Simile.  Yet still she turneth with a flat denial.   

15  
At last it fell (as oft it doth befall  
To valiant men that love to fight and quarrel)  
My brother was sore wounded in a brawl,  
So that it seemed his life was in some apparel:  
Wherefore he gets within the castle wall,  
Both that his friend might know & venge his quarrel,  
And other needful things may be procured,  
By which his hurt might be the sooner cured.   

16  
Now while my brother stayed in this ill state,  
His friend Argeo sometime absent thence,  
This woman early visits him and late,  
And offers him good store of pounds and peace:  
But he that always villainy did hate,  
And would not do his friend so great offence,  
Thought (as in evil cases is the best)  
Of two great mischiefs to choose out the left.   

17  
He means to leave Argeos friendship quite,  
And get him home again from whence he came,  
Or hide himself where this most wicked wight  
Shall never see his face nor hear his name:  
This, though it grieved him, as it ought of right,  
He chooseth as a way less worthy blame,  
Then yielding to her lust for to abuse her,  
Or to her loving husband to accuse her.   

18  
Wherefore (though of his wound both saint and weak)  
He doth resolve to part with constant mind,  
He gets him thence, and not a word doth speak,  
And leaves this filthy minded beast behind:  
But fortune ill his purpose good doth break,  
And altered quite the course he had designed,  
Home came her husband finding her alone,  
Complaining grievously and making moan.   

19  
Her cheeks with tears all blubbered were and red,  
Her looks did show her mind was ill paid,  
Her locks all torn did hang about her head,  
With which her loving husband fore afraid,  
Did ask her oft what chance such change had bred,  
Till at the length the wicked wretch thus said,  
With spiteful heart, with wicked voice & trembling,  
And feigned a cause, the cause itself dissembling.   

20  
Alas (quoth she) what should I seek to hide  
My wicked act and heinous deadly sin, 
juvenal in his 13. satire, Paena au●em vehemens as mulio 〈◊〉 illu Nocte die● s●um portare in pectore restem. ovid. Paenis●s & fa ●o ●quror ●pse 〈◊〉.   
Which though from you, and all the world beside,  
I could conceal, yet doth the soul within,  
And conscience grudge, a burden such to bide,  
So as the inward torment I am in,  
Doth pass the plague or penance far away,  
That mortal man upon my sin can lay.   

21  
If so a sin of right you may it name,  
That one is forced unto against her will,  
But thus it is, your friend that hither came,  
(I thinking he had thought nor meant none ill)  
Enforced me to my perpetual shame,  
Against all laws, all honesty and skill:  
And doubting that I would the fact bewray,  
Forthwith he gate him hence and fled away.   

22  
But though my body he have so desild,  
Yet is my mind from sin devoid and clear,  
Although from sight of men I am exiled,  
Nor dare I once in public place appear:  
This ●a●d, with thousand names she him revild,  
So that Argeo that the tale did hear,  
Believed it, and strait withal intended  
To punish him that never had offended.   

23  
He taketh horse forthwith and folowtheth post,  
All on revenge his mind was wholly bend,  
And for he perfectly did know the cost,  
And for my brother fair and softly went,  
He met him in an hour at the most,  
Bidding him stand or elíe he should be shent:  
My brother would distwade him if he might,  
But all in vain, Argeo needs would fight.   

24  
The tone was strong and full of fresh disdain,  
The other weak and l●th to hurt his friend,  
So that himself defending long in vain,  
My brother was constrained to yield in th'end:  
And thus at last he prisoner doth remain,  
And yields, himself unable to defend:  
Which seen, Argeo doth surcease to strike,  
But speaketh unto him these words or like.   

25  
God never let my heart so far be moved,  
With rightful wrath that I thy blood should spill,  
Since once I thee esteemed well and loved,  
Whom once I loved, I will never kill:  
And though thy act may justly be reproved,  
The world shall see my goodness by thine ill,  
For be ●t love, or be it in disdain,  
I will be found the better of the twain.   

26  
Another mean then death to use I mind,  
In panishing this sin and soul misdeed,  
This 〈◊〉 (with willow bands he there did find)  
He makes a hurdle fit to le●ue such need,  
On which my brother's body he doth bind,  
That with old hurts and new did freshly bleed;  
And to his castle he doth him convey,  
In mind to keep him there a prisoner ay.   

27  
Yet though with him a prisoner he remained,  
In other things he felt no lack nor want,  
Save that his liberty was him restrained:  
But ●o, this wretch that late did him supplant,  
And to her husband so of him complained,  
Thought she would try if he would yet recant,  
And ●tor at her command she had the keys)  
She goes to him, and thus to him she says.   

28  
Now sir (quoth she) I trust you feel the fruit,  
That this your foolish constancy hath wrought,  
Had you not better been to grant the suit,  
That I in friendly ●ort so often fought?  
You see us vain to argue or dispute,  
Say what you can, you are a traitor thought●  
And he to whom you showed so great fidelity,  
Imputes to you treason and infidelity.   

29  
I think both for your ease and reputation,  
You had been better granted my request,  
You see you have a sorry habitation,  
And in the same for ever look to rest,  
Except you change your first determination,  
And mollify your stony hearted breast,  
Which if you yet will do, I do assure you,  
Both liberty and credit to procure you.   

30  
No, never hope, no said Filandro, never,  
(So my unhappy brother's name they call)  
In vain to change my mind you do endeavour,  
And though Argeo caussesse keep me thrall,  
Yet I in faith and troth will still persever,  
Sufficeth me, that he that seeth all, 
Horace s●, Marus 〈◊〉 esto, nilco-● sib●, nulia 〈◊〉 scer● culp●.   
Doth know mine innocency and doth see me,  
And when he list can both reward and free me.   

31  
I care not though the world of me think ill,  
I hope another world will make amends,  
Yet let Argeo slay me if he will,  
Or let him (as it seemeth he intends)  
Though wrongfully, in prison hold me still,  
Yet one day he will find he hurts his friends,  
And know by proof how he hath been beguiled,  
When truth appears, 
Sentence.  and time brings forth her child.   

32  
Yet for all this, this woman void of shame,  
Did cease no whit Filandro still to tempt,  
And oftentimes in vain to him she came,  
And ever turns repulsed and with contempt,  
And in this frantic fancy she doth frame  
A thousand sleights to further her attempt,  
And many things in mind she doth revolve,  
Before on any one she do resolve.   

33  
Six months entire she doth herself absent,  
Nor ever came Filandro to entice,  
Which made him hope that she was now content  
To cease her suit, and follow his advice;  
But lo, 
Sentence.  how fortune (that is ever bend  
To further wicked persons in their vice)  
Doth unto her a fit occasion lend,  
To bring her wicked lust to woeful end.   

34  
There had been hate and enmity of old,  
Between her husband and another knight,  
Morando called, who often would be bold,  
If so Argeo absent were a night,  
To come with force and to assault his hold,  
Or thereabout to do him some despite:  
But if he were at home, than all that whiles  
He came not near him by a dozen miles.   

35  
Wherefore to be revenged on this his so,  
That often did him wrong and great outrage,  
Argeo gives it out that he will go  
Unto jerusalem on pilgrimage:  
And from his house disguysd he parted so,  
In secret sort without or man or page,  
And every night comes in at the postern,  
That none but she his coming might discern.   

36  
Thus all the day he wànders all about,  
In woods, in groves, in pastures here and thither,  
To see if he could find Morando out,  
That in his absence used to come hither:  
And far he keeps himself from any rout,  
Until that darkness doth obscure the wether,  
Then would he get him home a secret way,  
Of which his wife did keep a privy key.   

37  
Thus all but she Argeo absent thought,  
By which his wicked wise with wont skill,  
Another means and new occasion sought,  
To bring to pass her foul unbridled will:  
With weeping eyes (her eyes to weep she taught)  
And all with tears her bosom she doth fill,  
Then came she to my brother and complained,  
That (but he help) her honour would be stained.   

38  
Nor mine alone, but mine Argeos too,  
Who were he here (quoth she) I would not care,  
You know what harm Morando wonts to do,  
When as mine husband's absence makes him dare,  
And now behold the caitive me doth woe,  
And to entrap me sets full many a snare,  
And offered servants great reward and hire,  
So they would help to further his desire.   

39  
And hearing that Argeo was away,  
And would continue so no little space,  
He came within the castle wall to day,  
(His absence gave him so much heart of grace)  
Where, had my husband been but in the way,  
He durst not only not have showed his face,  
But sure he would not have presumed at all,  
To come within a kenning of the wall.   

40  
And what by message he before had done,  
Now face to face by mouth he doth the same,  
So as I hardly know which way to shun,  
That which to do, would breed my endless blame.  
Had not my sugared speech his favour won,  
By feigning ay my will to his would frame,  
He would perforce have had his foul intent,  
Which now he hopes to get by my assent.   

41  
I promised him (but promise made for fear  

Sentence.  Is void) and I performance never meant,  
But so that act I made him to forbear,  
Which he to do by force was fully bend.  
Now if you be a friend, or ever were,  
Unto Argeo, you may this prevent,  
Not only save mine honour thus distressed,  
But his to whom such love you have processed.   

42  
Which if you me deny, than I may say,  
Not honesty, of which your boft you make,  
But cruelty did cause you say me nay,  
And of my suit so small regard to take:  
And that you were not moved any way  
With friendship's rule, or for Argeos sake:  
Although twixt us it might have secret been,  
But now my shame must needs be known & seen.   

43  
Tush (quoth Filandro) this is more than need,  
To vie such circumstance in such a case,  
As I began, so mean I to proceed,  
And though Argeo hold me in disgrace,  
Yet unto him I not impute this deed,  
But ready will be still in time and place,  
To do him service any way I may,  
So you but show to me the mean and way.   

44  
Sir then (said she) the way were this, to kill  
Him that doth seek my husband's shame and mine,  
Which you may easily do, if so you will  
A while unto my words your ear incline:  
I have put off his coming hither, till  
It be betwixt the hours of ten and nine,  
What time I promised him so to provide,  
To let him in, so as he were not spied.   

45  
Now then my counsel is, that you do stay  
Here in my chamber, until I procure  
Him to disarm himself, so as you may  
Slay him with small ado, and make him sure.  
This is (quoth she) the only ready way,  
And safest for yourself, I you assure:  
To this device Filandro doth assent,  
Thinking hereby his friends hurt to prevent.   

46  
Now more and more approached the cursed night,  
When as his wife (if I a wife may call)  
This hellish hag and foul infernal spirit,  
Did place my brother armed behind a wall,  
And as she wished, e'en so it fell aright,  
For ill device amiss doth seldom fall; 
Sentence.   
Her husband in the evening somewhat late,  
Entered his castle at the postern gate.   

47  
Filandro at one blow cuts off his head,  
Taking him for Morando in exchange,  
She stands fast by that him had thither led,  
Nor shows in word or gesture any change:  
Argeo there remaineth slain and ded,  
And killed by him (ò chance most hard and strange)  
That while he friendly thought to do him good,  
Most cruel and unfriendly shed his blood.   

48  
Now when this seat had thus been brought to pass,  
Gabrina (so is this good woman's name)  
That doth in craft the fiends of hell surpass,  
Unto my brother for his weapon came,  
Which he delivered as his promise was,  
And that once done, than she without all shame,  
Prays him to take in hand a lighted candle,  
And view him well whom he so ill did handle.   

49  
There first he saw how he had killed his friend,  
A fight that made him at the heart repent,  
And she afresh the matter to amend,  
Doth threat, except he would to her assent,  
That she should bring his life to shameful end,  
For to accuse him of this fact she meant,  
Wishing him though his life he did despise,  
To shun a shameful death if he be wise.   

50  
Filandro mazed, and full of fear did stand,  
When of his error he was first ware,  
He thought at first to kill her out of hand,  
By whom he was entrapped in such a snare,  
But she had got his weapons in her hand,  
And to defend herself did strait prepare:  
But sure he could have found it in his hart,  
By piecemeal to have torn her every part.   

51  

Simile. T● one S●s an I● used in a 〈◊〉 poem, Non grau● mourns 〈◊〉 mole, &  Like as a ship in midst of seas oppressed,  
Between two winds that do together strive,  
Can have no time of respito or of rest,  
But goes what way the stronger wind doth drive:  
So now Filandro doubting which was best,  
To die, or in such sort to bide alive,  
Stood long in doubt, and neither way did bend,  
Yet chose the worier bargain in the end.   

52  
His reason open lays before his face,  
The danger great if once the fact were known,  
Beside the infamy and great disgrace,  
That would about the world of him be blown:  
Beside to choose he had but little space,  
So as his wit and sense was scant his own:  
At last he doth conclude what ever come,  
To swallow this vnlau'ry choking plum.   

53  
Wherefore against his will, enforced by fear,  
He promiseth to take her for his wife,  
And unto her he solemnly doth swear,  
To marry her if now she save his life:  
And (for it was not safe to tarry there)  
When once the murder should be published rife,  
He turns unto the place where he was borne,  
And leave; behind him infamy and scorn.   

54  
And still he carried in his pensive heart,  
His friend's mishap, lamenting it in vain,  
How for a just reward of such defart,  
A Progne and Medea he did gain;  
And save his oath restrained him in part,  

Horace. ● ane p●us & ang●●.  No doubt he would the wicked hag have slain:  
But yet he hated her like to ade or snake,  
And in her company small joy did take.   

55  
From that to this, to laugh or once to smile,  
He was not seen, his words and looks were sad,  
With often sighs, and in a little while,  

Orestes looks in the history.  He grew much like Orestes, when he had  
First slain his father by his mother's guile,  
Then her, and last of all fell raging mad,  
With spirits vexed so was my brother's head,  
Still vexed till sickness made him keep his bed.   

56  
But when this cursed strumpet plainly saw,  
How small delight in her my brother took,  
She doth her servant love from him withdraw,  
And in short space that fancy she forsook:  
And lastly she resolves against all law,  
So soon as she can sit occasion look,  
To bring Filandros' life to woeful end,  
And after her first husband him to send.   

57  
An old Physician full of false deceit, 
This of the P●. sition u 〈◊〉 word taken as of the x. booked Apul● gi●● Ass, and ● here●●●ther very ap●ly suseried to ●e●tifie his tale, ● and to paint forage lewdness of a v●ld woman.   
She findeth out most fit for such a feat,  
That better knew to give a poisoned bait,  
Then for to cure with herbs or wholesome meat:  
Him, that for gain most greedily doth wait,  
By proffers large she quickly doth entreat,  
To take upon him this ungracious cure,  
With poisoned cup to make her husband sure.   

58  
Now while myself was by, and others more,  
This old Physician came to him ere long,  
And brought a cup, in which was poison store,  
And said, it cordial was, to make him strong:  
But lo, Gabrina that devisd before,  
e'en in the prize of wrong, to do some wrong,  
Before Filandro of the cup did taste,  
Stepped twixt the leech and him in no small haste.   

59  
And taking in her hand against his will,  
The cup in which the poisoned drink was placed,  
She said, good Doctor do not take it ill,  
That I require you first the drink to taste,  
I will not have my husband drink, until  
You have yourself before him ta'en the taste:  
I will (said she) be certain by the rood,  
That this you give him, wholesome is and good.   

60  
Now in what pickle think you was the leech?  
The time was short to take a sound advice,  
He might not use persuasion now nor speech,  
He durst not tell how she did him entice,  
Nor could he guess what was herein her reach,  
To make him taste first of the poisoned spice,  
Wherefore to take a taste he thought it best,  
And then he gives my brother all the rest.   

61  
Even as a hawk that hath a partridge trust  
In griping talents, sits and plumes the same, 
Simile.   
Oft by a dog whom she doth not mistrust,  
Is killed herself and reaved of her game:  
So this Physician graceless and unjust,  
While he to greedy gain his mind doth frame,  
Was used by her even as he well deserved,  
And so I wish all such Physicians served.   

62  
The poor old man that felt his stomach ache,  
Began to take his leave, and homeward hasted,  
He thinks some strong Antidoton to take, 
〈◊〉 is a med●● taken to 〈◊〉 sickness.   
Against the poisoned cup he lately tasted:  
She swears his home return he may not make,  
While th' operation of the potion lasted,  
And that she will see plainly ere he go,  
If so it do her husband good or no.   

63  
By humble sure and offers he doth try,  
That with her licence he may thence depart,  
But all in vain, his suit she doth deny:  
Now had the liquor well-nigh touched his hart,  
Wherefore perceiving plainly he must die,  
He doth the secret to us all impart:  
Thus to himself he did the same at last,  
Which oft he did to others in time past.   

64  
And strait in little space my brother died,  
And after him died this same false Physician.  
We that had heard and seen the matter tried,  
Of which myself before had some suspicion;  
Both hand and foot we then this monster tied,  
And bring her unto such as had commission,  
Where her confession, and our accusation,  
Made them pronounce her doom of condemnation.   

65  
Thus in the gail in fetters she was laid,  
Adjudged to be burned at a stake,  
Thus (said the knight) and more he would have said  
How she escaped, and how she prison broke,  
But so he fainted, as they were afraid,  
He would have sounded as those words he spoke:  
Wherefore his page him to his horse doth lift,  
And then to bind his wounds they make a shift.   

66  
Then Zerbin took his leave and made a skuse,  
That he had hurt the knight in her defence,  
Affirming he had done, as is the use,  
To save his charge from damage and offence:  
And that thenceforth with him he would have truce,  
This said, he took his leave and parted thence,  
And promised him with words of great civility,  
To further him unto his best ability.   

67  
Sir (said the knight) for this I do you thank,  
And wish you of that woman to beware,  
Left that she serve you some such slipper prank,  
As may procure your farther woe and care:  
For hard shall any scape from danger frank,  
That in her company long season are:  
Gabrina silent all the while stands by, 
Sentence.   
For hard it is to prove the truth a lie.   

68  
Thus hence they part, and for his promise sake,  
At her commandment Zerbin doth attend,  
And wished in heart, the devil might her take,  
Though with his hand he must her still defend:  
And those last words the knight of Holland spoke,  
To give him warning of the cursled send,  
Do fill his mind with so great grief and spite,  
That now he scant could well abide her fight.   

69  
And this same old and weather beaten trot,  
Perceiving how Zerbino was inclined,  
Would not once yield or be behind a jot,  
In spiteful wishing, nor in evil mind:  
Her eye and tongue and look conceal it not,  
Not yet her deeds as after he did find,  
Thus in this harmony and concord good,  
It was their hap to travel through the wood.   

70  
Now when the time approached near the night,  
They heard a noise of bustling and of blows,  
Caused as they guessed by some brawl or fight,  
But where it was yet neither of them knows,  
Zerbino longed much to see the fight,  
And thither wards in no small hast he goes,  
And in no less, Gabrina maketh after,  
As shallbe showed you more at large hereafter.   
A more necessary moral (as I think) cannot be found for our age we now line in, 
Moral.  then that, with which this book begins: namely, of the keeping of faith, and promise, which even among Turks and heathen Philosophers hath been religiously kept; and yet among us ' that call ourselves Christians, and boast of an extraordinary light of the Gospel, is often most irreligiously broken: so that as Ovid faith of his time in ironical manner.  
Aurea nune verè sunt secula, plutimus auro  
Venit honos, auro conciliatur amor:  
In Enlish thus,  
This may indeed, be called the age of gold,  
For honour, love and all, for it is sold.  
So may I say, this is a notable time for credit, for now generally (even with some of the better sort) men's words be as good as their obligations: namely, neither of both worth the taking for a farthing. Secondly, in Filandro we may note a special good nature and inclination, that would rather abandon a place which he liked very well, then either break the laws of friendship and hospitality; or accuse the wife to her husband. In his kill Argeo, and all the tragical proceedings of the wicked Gabrina, we may note the monstrous effects of an unbridled affection in a mischievous woman, that killed both her husbands, and lastly the Physician, and still continued working fresh mischief till her death, as after followeth.  
Orestes, whom he spoke of in the 55. staff of this 21. book was son of Agamemnon, 
History.  who being slain by the treachery of his wife Clytaemnestra, Orestes in revenge there of killed his mother, and after that, was himself tormented with furies, or rather with his conscience for so horrible an act, and so fell mad, and was healed again; and after, that notable accident of Pylades and him fell out.  
Simon Fornarie affirmeth that in this tale of Gabrina, my author doth allude to a woman of like lewdness, 
Allusion.  living in his time, and by Argeo and Filandro to be meant two Gentlemen of Naples; but the truth is, the tale is almost verbatim, taken out of Apuleius golden Ass. Specially for that part of the Physician: Sed uxor, quae iampridem nomen uxoris cum fide perdiderat, medicum convenit quendam norae persidie qui iam multarum palmarum spectatus praelijs, magna dextrae suae trophoea numerabit, as I before noted on the 57 staff.  
The end of the notes upon the xxj book.   

  

THE XXII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Astolfo doth dissolve the charmed place,  
And spite of Atlant, sets his prisoners free:  
Then Bradamant doth see Rogeros' face:  
To help an unknown knight they craved be;  
But by the way Rogero in short space,  
Subdued four knights, of worth and good degree,  
That were by Pinabell in prison held,  
Whom Bradamant with just revengement killed.  

1  
YE courtly dames, that are both kind and true,  
Unto your loves, if kind and true be any,  
As sure I am in all your lovely crew,  
Of so chaste mind, there are not over many;  
Be not displeased with this that doth ensue,  
For neither must I leave it, neither can I,  
And bear with me for that I said before,  
When on Gabrina I did rail so sore.   

2  

ovid. Parc●te paucarum disfundere crimina in omnes.  Mine earnest words, nor yet her great offence,  
Cannot obscure in honour and clear fame,  
Those few, whose spotless lives want no defence,  
Whom hate nor envy no way can defame:  

judas Iscariot.  He that his master sold for thirty pence,  
To john nor Peter breeds no blot nor blame:  
Nor men of Hipermestra, worse have thought,  

Hipermestra one of the 50 Sisters. Loo●● in the Story of this book.  Although her sisters were unchaste and nought.   

3  
For one that in this verse I shall dispraise,  
As driven by course of this my present story,  
Whole hundreds are whom I intent to praise,  
And magnify their well deserved glory,  
If this than be offensive any ways,  
To all or any, I can be but sorry:  
Now of the Scottish Prince a word or two,  
That heard a noise, and went forthwith thereto.   

4  
Between two mountains in a shady dale,  
He doth descend that way the noise him led,  
But when he came he saw upon the vale,  
A Baron lately slain and newly ded.  
But ere I enter further in this tale,  
I first must tell you how Astolfo sped:  
Whom late I left in that most cursed city, 
He come to that matter in the 25 Book. st. 29.   
Where women murder men without all pity.   

5  
I told you how his horn with mighty blast,  
Not only all his foes had driven away,  
But also made his friends so sore aghast,  
As not the stoutest of them there durst stay:  
Wherefore (I said) he was constrained at last,  
Alone to get him homeward on his way,  
Forthwith on Rabicano he doth mount,  
An horse of which he makes no small account.   

6  
His horn that serves him still at all assays,  
He carries with him and his learned book,  
First by Armenia he goes his ways,  
Then Prussia and the way of Thrase he took,  
So that within the space of twenty days,  
The stream Danubio he quite forsook:  
Then from Boemia ward he doth decline,  
Unto Franconia and the stream of Rhyne.   

7  
Then through Ardennas' wood to Aquis grave,  
And thence to Flanders where he shipping found,  
What time a North-east wind did blow to brave,  
As set him soon in sight of English ground:  
So that no whit annoyed with wind nor wave,  
His native soil received him safe and sound:  
He taketh horse, and oer the Sun was down,  
At London he arrived the chiefest town.   

8  
Here at his first arrival strait he hears,  
How that the Turks fair Paris did besiege,  
And how his sire (a man well stroke in years)  
Was there, and sent for aid to raise the siege:  
And how of late the Lords and chiefest pears,  
Were gone with new supplies to help their liege,  
But little stay he makes these words once hard,  
But taketh ship again to Calais ward.   

9  
And for the wind served then not very well,  
They were by force thereof borne quite aside,  
So that the master scant himself could tell,  
What course he held, they were borne down so wide,  
Yet at the last so lucky it befell,  
Within a kenning they some land had spied,  
And drawing near they found the town of Rouen,  
Where presently the Duke took land alone.   

10  
And crossing through a wood when time drew near,  
That neither day could well be called nor night,  
He happed to find a crystal spring and clear,  
And by the side thereof he did alight,  
With mind to quench his thirst and rest him hear,  
As in a place of pleasure and delight,  
He ties his horse unto a tree, and thinketh  
To have him tarry safe there while he drinketh.   

11  

Sentence. Mul●a cadune enter caelicem supremari● labra.  Strange things may fall between the lip and cup,  
For scant Astolfo yet had wet his lip,  
But from a bush a villain started up,  
Untied the horse, and on his back doth skip:  
The Duke that scant had tasted yet a sup;  
And finds himself thus ta'en in such a trip,  
Forgets to drink, and follows in a rage,  
For wrath not water doth his thirst assuage.   

12  
The little villain that the horse had got,  
(Like one that did in knavish pranks delight)  
Although he might have run yet did it not,  
Because Astolfo should not lose his sight:  
But with false gallop, or a gentle trot,  
He leads the Duke unto that place aright,  
Where many knights and Lords of high degree,  

Atlantti caste●●.  Without a prison, more than prisoners be.   

13  
Astolfo, though his armour doth him cumber,  
Yet fearing lest he might arrive too late,  
In following the villain doth nor slumber,  
Until he came within the palace gate,  
Where (as I said) of Lords no little number,  
Were wandering up and down in strange estate:  
Astolfo of their presence doth not force,  
But runneth up and down to find his horse.   

14  
The crafty villain was in no place found,  
Though many a homely place for him was sought,  
Yet still the Duke doth search the palace round,  
And for his beast he takes no little thought:  
At last he guessed it was enchanted ground,  
And as by Logestilla he was taught,  
He took his book and searcheth in the table,  
How to dissolve the place he might be able.   

15  
And strait in th'index for it he doth look,  
Of palaces framed by such strange illusion,  
Among the rest, of this (so saith the book)  
That it should never come unto confusion;  
Until a certain stone away were took,  
In which a spirit was kept by strange inclusion,  
And if he did but lift the threshold stone,  
The goodly house would vanish and be gone.   

16  
The Duke not doubting now of good success,  
goeth to the threshold where the stone was laid,  
And which it was he presently doth guess,  
And then by force to move it he aslaid:  
But Atlant, that expected nothing less,  
And sees his bold attempt, was sore afraid,  
And strait an hundred means he doth devise,  
To hinder him from this bold enterprise.   

17  
He makes the Duke, by this his devilish skill,  
To seem of divers shapes unto the rest,  
To one a darse, of face and faucurill,  
To one a giant, to a third a beast,  
And all their hearts with hatred he doth fill,  
He thinks by them the Duke should be distressed:  
By seeming unto every one the same,  
For which each one into the palace came.   

18  
Behold Rogero stout, and Brandimart, 
Rogero. Bradama●●.   
Prasildo, Bradamant, and others more,  
Upon Astolfo set with cruel hart,  
As to revenge themselves upon their foe:  
But with his horn the Duke then played his part,  
And brought their lofty stomachs somewhat low:  
But had not th'horn procured him this exemption,  
No doubt the Duke had died without redemption.   

19  
For when they heard the strange and fearful blast,  
They forced were for fear away to run, 
Simile   
As fearful Pigeons fly away aghast  
When men do ring a bell or shoot a gun;  
The Sorcerer himself was not the last,  
That sought by flight the fearful noise to shun:  
Yea such it was, that neither rat nor mouse,  
Durst tarry in the circuit of the house.   

20  
Among the horses that did break their bands,  
Was Rabican of whom before I told,  
Who by good hap came to Astolfos hands,  
Who was full glad when of him he had hold,  
Also Rogeros Griffith horse there stands,  
Fast tied in a chain of beaten gold,  
The Duke, as by his book he had been taught,  
Destroyed quite the house by magic wrought.   

21  
I do not doubt but you can call to mind,  
How good Rogero lost this stately beast,  
What time Angelica his eyes did blind,  
Denying most unkindly his request:  
The horse that sored swifter than the wind,  
Went back to Atlant whom he loved best,  
By whom he had been of a young one bred,  
And diligently taught, and costly fed.   

22  
This English Duke was glad of such a pray,  
As one that was to travel greatly bend,  
And in the world was not a better way  
For him to serve his purpose and intent;  
Wherefore he meaneth not to let him stray,  
But takes him as a thing from heaven him sent,  
For long ere this he had of him such proof,  
As well he knew what was for his behoof.   

23  
Now being full resolved to take in hand,  
To travel round about the world so wide,  
And visit many a sea and many a land,  
As none had done, nor ever should beside,  
One only care his purpose did withstand,  
Which caused him yet a little time to bide,  
He doth bethink him oft, yet doth not know  
On whom his Rabicano to bestow.   

24  
He would be loath that such a stately steed  
Should by a peasant be possessed or found,  
And though of him he stood then in no need,  
Yet had he care to have him safe and sound,  
In hands of such as would him keep and feed;  
While thus he thought and looked about him round,  

Of this you shall see more in the 23. book. 7 staff.  Next day a while before the Sun was set,  
A champion all in arms vowares he met.   

25  
But first I mean to tell you what became  
Of good Rogero and his Bradamant,  
Who when again unto themselves they came,  
The palace quite destroyed of old Atlant:  
Each knew and called the other by their name,  
And of all courtesies they were not scant,  
Lamenting much that this enchanted palace,  
Had hindered them so long such joy and solace.   

26  
The noble maid to show herself as kind,  
As might become a virgin wise and sage,  
Doth in plain terms as plain declare her mind,  
As thus, that she his loves hear will assuage,  
And unto him herself in wedlock bind,  
And spend with him all her ensuing age,  
If to be christened first he were content,  
And afterwards to ask her friends consent.   

27  
But he that would not only not refuse  
To change his life for his beloved's sake,  
But also if the choice were his to choose,  
To lose his life and all the world forsake,  
Did answer thus, my dear, what ere ensues  
I will perform what ere I undertake,  
To be baptizd in water or in fire,  
I will consent if it be your desire.   

28  

Though Rogero in here willing to be baptised, and after still deferred it, you must note be knew not in what danger 〈◊〉 master was in ● afterwards in the xxv. book.  This said, he goes from thence with full intent,  
To take upon him christened state of life,  
Which done he most sincerely after meant,  
To ask her of her father for a wife;  
Unto an Abbey strait their course they bent,  
As in those days were in those places rise,  
Where men devout did live with great frugality,  
And yet for strangers kept good hospitality.   

29  
But ere they came to that religious place,  
They met a damsel full of beauty cheer,  
That had with tears bedewed all her face,  
Yet in those tears great beauty did appear,  
Rogero, that had ever special grace  
In courteous acts and speech when she came near,  
Doth ask other what dangers or what fears,  
Did move her so to make her shed such tears.   

30  
She thus replies, the cause of this my grief,  
Is not for fear or danger of mine own,  
But for good will, and for compassion chief,  
Of one young knight, whose name is yet unknown,  
Who if he have not great and quick relief,  
Is judged into the fire to be thrown,  
So great a fault they say he hath committed,  
That doubt it is it will not be remitted.   

31  
The fault was this, there was good will between  
Him and the daughter of the King of Spain,  
And left his love should be descried and seen,  
He finely doth himself a woman sane,  
And went and spoke as if he had so been,  
And thus he played (to tell the matter plain)  
The maid in show, the man in deed so well,  
That in a while he made her belly swell.   

32  
But out alas, what can so secret be,  
But out it will when we do least suspect? 
Sentence.   
For posts have ears, and walls have eyes to see,  
Dumb beast and birds have tongues ill to detect, 
Sentence.   
First one had found it out, then two or three:  
And look how fire doth creep that men neglect, 
Simile.   
So this report from mouth to mouth did spring,  
Till at the last it came unto the king.   

33  
The King strait sends a trusty servant thither,  
Who making search when they two were in bed,  
Found out the troth and took them both together,  
Found him a man, and found her belly sped,  
Away they carred her I know not whether,  
Away unto the prison he was led,  
And must be burnt this day or else to morrow,  
The thought whereof doth move my mind to sorrow.   

34  
This made me purposely to come from thence,  
And not to see one of so comely shape,  
So sharply punished for this small offence,  
As if it were for murder or for rape,  
Nor any hope could sink into my sense,  
How possible it were for him to scape,  
And who could see or think without compassion,  
A fine young youth tormented in such fashion?   

35  
'twas strange to think how nigh this tale did touch  
The noble Bradamants most tender hart,  
It seemed she pittide this man's state as much,  
As if her brother had played such a part: 
It was 〈◊〉 her brother, ●● you 〈◊〉 seen, 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉 25. book.   
Some cause there was to make her fancy such,  
As afterward at large I shall impart:  
And strait she makes this motion, that they twain  
Might save this woeful youth from being slain.   

36  
Rogero much commends her noble mind,  
And to the mourning damsel thus they said,  
We both are to this enterprise inclined,  
If fortune serve we will the young man aid,  
But when they saw that still the mourned and whined,  
Tush (quoth Rogero) cease to be afraid,  
'tis more than time that we were going hence,  
Not tears but force must serve for his defence.   

37  
These comfortable words Rogero spoke,  
With that his warlike look and manly show,  
Did cause her heart of grace forth with to take,  
Yet still she doubts which way were best to go,  
Not that she feared the right way to mistake,  
For all the ways she perfuly did know,  
To turn the way she came she was afraid,  
Lest in the way they haply might be stayed.   

38  
There are (quoth she) two waves unto the place,  
Of which the stone is easy, fair and plain,  
The other foul, and far the greater space,  
Yet at this time the safer of the twain,  
But yet I fear, except God send more grace,  
That ere we thither come, he may be slain:  
Thus stood this damsel still, not little musing,  
Between the nearer way and safer chase.   

39  
Rogero that was resolute and stout,  
Did ask what reason moved her to persuade  
Them two to take the farther way about;  
And strait way she to them this answer made,  
Forsooth (said she) the cause that moves my doubt  
Is this, I fear that some will you invade,  
By means that Pinnabell (Anselmus son)  
Hath here of late a custom lewd begun.   

40  
As namely that who ever that way ride,  
Of what estate soever or degree,  
Must lose their horses first, and then beside  
Most of their clothes and raiment spoilt be.  
Four valiant youths of strength, and courage tried,  
Are sworn to this, so that no he nor she  
Can pass that way without this evil payment,  
That he must weapons lose, and she her raiment.   

41  
The custom is, as yet but three days old,  
By Pinnabello and his wife devised,  

This was 〈…〉 Gal●●na, 〈◊〉 you might read before in the latter end of this 20. lo●ke.  Who meeting haply (as I heard it told)  
A knight, or one in knightly clothes disguised,  
With whom a woman ugly to behold,  
And by this couple scorned and despised,  
This Pinnabell the worse had of the quarrel,  
His wife was spoiled of horse and of apparel.   

42  
This spite enraged so the woman's mind,  
That wishing to revenge, not knowing how,  
Yet wrath and folly so her sense doth blind,  
That strait she makes a foolish solemn vow,  
And he that was to evil deeds inclined  
No less than she, doth of the same allow:  
The vow was this, for anger of this foil,  
A thousand others in like sort to spoil.   

43  
That very night came to that house by chance,  
Four valiant knights as ever armour bare,  
To fight on horse or foot with sword or lance,  
But few many with the worst of them compare,  
These four I say were first that led this dance,  
By night surprised ere they were aware,  
Both Griffin, Aquilant and Sansonet,  
And Guidon Savage, scant a man as yet.   

44  
These four in show he gently entertained,  
And makes them friendly countenance and cheat,  
With courteous speech and friendly manner feigned,  
As if he loved them well and held them dear:  
But while secure they in their beds remained,  
And when Sun rising now approached near,  
He did beset the lodging where they lay,  
And took their armour and their clothes away.   

45  
And further bound them in that present place, 
Pinnabels' l●w.   
Both hand and foot as if they prisoners were,  
And ere he did those causeless bonds unlace,  
He makes them solemnly to vow and swear,  
To keep this order for a twelvemonth's space,  
That whosoever happened to come there,  
They four endeavour should with all their forces,  
To take away their raiment and their horses.   

46  
To this by solemn oath are sworn they four,  
Constrained thereto by this their cruel host,  
And though herewith they were offended sore,  
Yet must they swear for fear of farther cost,  
Already not so few as twice a score,  
Their horses and their furniture have lost,  
And none as yet so able have been found,  
But one of these have laid him on the ground.   

47  
But if some one do hap so strong to be,  
To make his party good with one of those,  
Then strait the order is, the other three  
Must him assist, thus none unconquerd goes.  
Wherefore if you will be advist by me,  
'tis best to shun this way as I suppose,  
Sith each of these is such as I recited,  
How great think you will be their force united?   

48  
But presuppose that you their force withstand,  
As your great courage makes me think you might,  
Yet needs it hinder must the cause in hand,  
And make you tarry here about all night:  
Sith then this case so dangerously doth stand,  
I would persuade you now to shun this fight,  
Lest while you in this enterprise remain,  
The poor young man may fortune to be slain.   

49  
Tush quoth Rogero, have no doubt at all,  
Let us endeavour still to do our best,  
And then hap good or ill, fall what may fall,  
Let God and fortune govern all the rest: 
Sentence.   
I hope this enterprise I finish shall  
So well, as I shall eke do your request,  
And there arrive to save him in good time,  
That should be burned for so small a crime.   

50  
This said, he gets him on the nearest way,  
Fast by the place where Pinnabell doth dwell,  
And at the bridge they forced were to stay,  
And strait a man (whose name I know not well)  
Came out in haste, and stand to them doth say,  
And then begins their order them to tell,  
Persuading them, if they will shun the peril,  
To yield in peace their horses and apparel.   

51  
Peace (quoth Rogero) leave thy foolish prating,  
A tale already known thou dost repeat,  

Sentence.  Children with bugs, and dogs are seared with rating,  
With me it small avails to brag or threat,  
I lose but time with thee to stand debating,  
Show me the men that mind to do this feat,  
My haste is such that long I may not stay,  
Wherefore I pray you bid them come away.   

52  
Lo here comes one of them, this old man said,  
And as he spoke the words, out came a knight,  
A tall strong man, all armed from foot to head,  
His armour like a furnace shined bright,  
His colours that he ware were white and red,  
This was the first, and Sansonet he height,  
And for he was a man of mighty strength,  
Two massy spears he brought of mighty length.   

53  
The one of these he to Rogero gave,  
The other to himself he doth reserve,  
Then each, in hope the victory to have,  
Do spurt their steady steeds that will not swerver,  
Rogeros' shield from wounding doth him save,  
The others did him not so well preserve,  
The spear both pierced his shield and pricked his arm,  
And overthrew him to this further harm.   

54  
You do not sure, nor cannot yet forget,  
What of Rogeros' shield before I told,  
That made the fiends of hell with toil to sweat,  
And shined so bright as none could it behold,  
No marvel then though valiant Sansonet,  
Although his hands were strong and hart were bold,  
Could not prevail so strong a shield to pierce,  
Of so great force as late I did rehearse.   

55  
This while was Pinnabell approached nigh  
To Bradamant, and asked of her his name,  
That in their sight his force so great did try,  
To overthrow a knight of so great fame.  

Sentence.  (Lo how the mighty God that sits on high,  
Can punish sin when least men look the same)  
Now Pinnabel fell in his enemy's hands,  
When in his own conceit most safe he stands.   

56  
It was his hap that self same horse to ride,  

Of this ye might made in the end of the ●. book.  Which eight months passed from Bradamant he stale,  
Then when he falsely let the pole to slide,  
At Merlin's cave (if you did mark the tale)  
But now when she that traitor vile had spied,  
That thought by treachery to work her bale,  
She stepped forthwith between him and his castle,  
And swears that she with him a pull would wrestle.   

57  
Look how a fox, with dogs and hunters chaste, 
Simile.   
That to come back unto her hole did ween,  
Is utterly discouraged and aghast,  
When in her way she nets and dogs hath seen:  
So he that no such peril did forecast,  
And sees his so stepped him and home between,  
With word him threatening and with sword assailing,  
Doth take the wood his heart and courage failing.   

58  
Thus now on flight his only hope relying,  
He spurred that horse that chief his trouble bred,  
No hope of help, and yet for help still crying,  
For doubt of death almost already ded,  
Sometime the fact excusing or denying,  
But she believing not a word he said,  
None in the castle were of this aware,  
About Rogero all so busied are.   

59  
This while forth of the gate came th'other three,  
That to this law so solemnly had sworn,  
Among the rest that came was also she  
That caused this law, full of disdain and scorn,  
And none of these but sooner would agree  
With horses wild to be in pieces torn,  
Then to distain their honour and good name,  
With any act that might be worthy shame.   

60  
Wherefore it grieved them to the very gall,  
That more than one at once should one assail,  
Save they were sworn to run together all,  
If so the first of victory did fail:  
And she uncessantly on them did call,  
What mean you sirs (quoth she) what do you ail?  
Do you forget the cause I brought you ●●ther?  
Are you not sworn to take part all together?   

61  
Fie, answered Guidon, what a shame is this?  
Let rather me alone my fortune try,  
And if of victory I hap to misle,  
At my returning back then let me die.  
Not so quoth she, my meaning other is,  
And you I trust will not your word deny:  
I brought you hither for another cause,  
Not now to make new orders and new laws.   

62  
Thus were they urged by this scornful dame,  
To that which all their hearts abhorred sore,  
And which they thought to them so great a shame,  
As never like had chanced them before;  
Al●o Rogeros words increased the same,  
Upbraiding them, and egging more and more,  
And ask why they made so long delay,  
To take his armour and his horse away.   

63  
And thus in manner forts and by constraint,  
They came all three Rogero to invade,  
Which act they thought would sore their honours taint,  
Though full account of victory they made,  
Rogero at their coming doth not faint,  
As one well used through dangers great to wade,  
And first the worthy Oliveros' sons,  
With all their force against Rogero runs.   

64  
Rogero turned his horse to take the field,  
With that same staff that lately overthrew  
Stout Sansonet, and with that passing shield,  
That Atlant made by help of hellish crew,  
That shield, whose aid he used very ceil,  
Some unexpected danger to eschew:  
Twice when Alcynas' kingdom he forsook,  
Once when the Indian Queen fronth'ork he took.   

65  
Save these three times he never used the aid  
Of this his shield, but left it covered still,  
If he abroad, or if within he slaid,  
He never left it open by his will.  
As for these three, he was no more afraid  
Or all their strength, their number nor their skill,  
Nor made no more account with them to fight,  
Then if they had seemed children in his sight.   

66  
And first he met the younger of the twain,  
That Griffi● height, who had to great a blo,  
As in the saddle he could scant remain,  
But quite amazed reeled to and fro;  
He strake Rogero but it was in vain,  
For why, the stroke fell overthwartly so,  
That quite beside Rogeros' shield it slipped,  
But yet the case it all to tore and ripped.   

67  
Now when the renting of the silken case,  
In which Rogero used the shield to hide,  
Had cast out such a light in each man's face,  
That none of them the force thereof could bide,  
They fell down all amazed in the place,  
Admit they sit, or stand, or go, or ride,  
Rogero with the cause not yet acquainted,  
Did marvel how his foes so soon had fainted.   

68  
But when he once was of the cause aware,  
And how the cover of his shield was rend,  
By mean whereof it open lay and bare,  
And thence such light unto the lookers sent:  
He looks about where his companions are,  
Because forthwith to get him thence he meant,  
I mean his Bradamant and that same maid,  
That for that youth did erst demand his aid.   

69  
But his beloved as then he found not, where  
He erst had left her when he went to just,  
And when he plainly saw she was not there,  
And that that happened he could not mistrust,  
He parted thence, and with him he doth bear  
The maid that made to him the suit so just,  
Who lay that tune amazed with the rest,  
With sudden blazing of the light distressed.   

70  
He takes her kirtle, and with it doth hide  
The light that did so dazzle all their eyes,  
That light on which to look none could abide,  
As if two Suns had shone at once in skies:  
Fortwith himself all malcontent doth ride,  
To have this combat ended in such wise,  
As might imputed be to Magic art,  
And not his prowess or his valiant hart.   

71  
Now while this thought such passions did him yield,  
That though he had indeed most bravely done,  
Yet men would think the glory of the field,  
Not by his valiantness to have been won,  
But by the force of that enchanted shield,  
That cast a light more piercing than the Sun,  
I say as thus he thought, he passed by  
A large deep well, that by the way did lie.   

72  
A well at which the beasts in summer's heat  
Did use their thirsty drought to quench and cool, 
ovid. Atque 〈◊〉 pasto pascal antecib●.   
And chew again their undigested meat,  
And walk about the shallows of the pool.  
Here did Rogero oft these words repeat,  
Thou shield, that late didst make me such a fool,  
To cause me get a conquest with such shame,  
Lie there (quoth he) with thee go all my blame.   

73  
With that he threw the shield into the well,  
The well was deep, the shield of mighty weight,  
That to the bottom suddenly it fell,  
The water over it a monstrous height:  
But lo dame Fame the thing abroad doth tell,  
How he because he would not win by sleight,  
But by mere value, had his target drowned,  
Where it should never afterward be found.   

74  
Yet many (that had heard the strange report)  
Of those that dwelled thence, some far, some nire,  
To seek the target thither did resort,  
And to have found it out had great desire,  
But it was cast away in such a sort,  
As none unto their purpose did aspire,  
For why the maid that only did behold it,  
And knew which well it was, yet never told it.   

75  
But when the knights came to themselves again,  
And were awake, and one the other saw,  
That late were vanquished with so little pain,  
As if to him they had been men of straw,  
They wondered much what troubled had their brain,  
And all of them did thence themselves withdraw,  
And all that day they argue and devise.  
How that same light should dazzle so their eyes.   

76  
This while came notice of the woeful fall  
Of Pinnabell, whom Bradamant had killed,  
With which they greatly were displeased all,  
Not knowing why or who his blood had spilt;  
His wife and sire that heard what was befall,  
His son, her spouse, the place with outcries filled,  
And cursed and chafed with too late repentance,  
That none on Pinnabell had given attendance.   

77  
Now when the damsel justly had him slain,  
And ta'en away his horse, sometime her own,  
She would have turned the way she came again,  
But that the same was unto her unknown;  
To purpose small, she travels with great pain,  
To seek it out, as after shall be shown:  
For here to stay is my determination,  
And pause a little for my recreation.   
In the person of Bradamant, 
Moral.  that was so readily inclined to the aid of a young man, though then we unknown to her, we may note, how to a noble disposition, a little persuasion sufficeth, to move them to the succour of such as are distressed. in Pinabello and his wife, that thought to revenge the scorn they received, with doing the like scorn to others, we may see, how base and dunghill dispositions follow not any course of value or true reputation, but only to wreak their malice on some body, not caring whom: as they are wont to tell of Will summer (though otherwise a harmless fool) that would evermore if one had angered him, strike him that was next him. Lastly in Bradamant that met Pinabell by hap, riding on the same horse that he had stolen from her long before (what time he left her for dead) and thereby now discovered him, and killed him, we may note a most notable example of divine justice, in the like cases, as many times it falleth out, and in this Poet you shall find many of them: as Polynessos' death in the fifth books; Martanoes punishment in the eighteenth book, Marganorres execution in the seven and thirtieth book: all which examples (whether true or feigned) have this chief scope and end, to make men know that there is a divine power, that will judge and punish the actions of men, be they never so secure or so secret; and only the clear conscience it is that assureth a man of his estate, both in this world and in the world to come: and he that feareth not that divine power, it is unpossible that he can live free of most wicked acts. That wise and honourable counsellor Sir Walter Mildmay, as in all other things he showed himself an uncorrupt man to his end, so his writings and sayings were ever spiced with this reverent fear of God: for ex abundantia cordis os loquitur: and among other of his (worth the noting) of which he himself gave me a little volume when I was a boy of Eaton college (the which since his death have been published in print) but one special verse he had to that effect in Latin, and was by me put into English at the request of that honourable Gentleman his son in law, Master William Fitzwilliams. 
Vltio peccatum sequitur, delinquere noli,  
Nam seelus admissum poena severa premit:  
Quod si fortè Deus, patiendo differat iram,  
Sera licet veniat, certa venire solet.  
Fly sin, for sharp revenge doth follow sin,  
And wicked deeds, do wrathful dooms procure:  
If God stay long ear he to strike begin,  
Though long he stay, at last he striketh sure.  A worthy saying of a most worthy man, and thus much for the moral.  
Hipermestra was daughter to Egittus, this Egittus had fifty daughters, 
History.  who caused them all to be married to Danaos fifty sons, and being commanded by their tyrannous father, killed them all in one night, only Hipermestra refused to obey so filthy a commandment, and saved her husband, whose name was Linus.  
Astolfo that with help of his book dissolves the enchanted palace, 
Allegory.  and with his horn drove away those that assaulted him and put him in great danger, signifieth allegorically (as I have in part touched before) how wisdom with the help of eloquence, discovereth the craftiest, and tameth the wildest. Further in that Rogero casteth away the enchanted shield, and refuseth the use thereof, the Allegory thereof signifieth, that though a man for necessity sake, sometimes be driven to take some helps of no very honourable sort, and sometimes to reliue himself with policies scarce commendable, yet one should when that urgent necessity is past, hurl such conceit from him where it may never be found again, as Rogero flung his shield into that well; and so fame shall blow abroad our noble mind in so doing, as it did Rogeroes for refusing an aid of such force.  
The end of the Annotations upon xxij. book.   

  

THE XXIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Astolfo on the Griffith horse doth mount:  
To Zerbin Pinnabellos death is laid;  
Orlando saveth him: fierce Rodomount  
Frontyno takes from Bradamantes maid:  
The Paladyn and Mandricard confront;  
They part by chance, and each from other strayed:  
Orlando falls stark mad, with sorrow taken,  
To hear his mistress hath him quite forsaken.  

1  
LEt every one do all the good they can,  
For seldom cometh harm of doing well,  
Though just reward it wanteth now and than,  
Yet shame, and evil death it doth expel,  
But he that mischieveth another man,  

Sentence. The Latin pro● 〈…〉.  Doth seldom carry it to heaven or hell:  
Men say it, and we see it come to pass,  
Good turns in sand, shrewd turns are writ in brass.   

2  

Sentence.  Seeled mountains meet, but men may often meet,  

Look in the moral of the former book, where this 〈◊〉 touched more largely.  (The Proverb saith) and who so sets a trap,  
May catch himself, as here you plainly see eed  
In him, that thought this dame in woes to wrap,  
But hurts himself; a punishment most meet;  
God still defending her from all mishap:  

Sentence.  God her preserved, and will all those preserve,  
As shun all vice, and him sincerely serve.   

3  
It little did avail to Pinnabell,  
To be amid his kinsfolk and his friends;  
And near the castle, where his fire did dwell,  
Where every one, him honours and attends,  
Lo here the end of him doth plainly tell,  

Sentence.  How wicked lives have often wretched ends:  
But to proceed, I said when he was slain,  
The noble damsel sought her way again.   

4  
Which when she saw she could by no means know,  
But more and more uncertainly did rove;  
And sees the sun was now declining low;  
She means that night to rest her in the grove:  
And sleep sometime, or else sometime (I trow)  
To look on Mars, on Saturn, or on jove, 
Meaning the Planets.   
But chiefly, whether she awakes or sleeps;  
Rogeros image in her heart she keeps.   

5  
Oft times she fretting to herself would say,  
Lo; hare with me far more prevailed hath,  
Then love could do, that now have lost my way,  
And left my comfort to avenge my wrath;  
Nor had my wit so much forecast or stay,  
To take some mark of my foretrodden path:  
I did (quoth she) as fools are wont to do,  
Take one shrewd turn to do another two. 
Sentence.    

6  
These words and many like to these she spoke,  
To pass the rest of that her restless night,  
Till stars 'gan vanish and the dawning brake,  
And all the Easter parts were full of light,  
Then at adventure she her way doth take,  
Not knowing yet if it were wrong or right;  
And having traveled in that way some miles,  
By hap Astolfo came that way the while. 
Astolfo.    

7  
He rides the winged horse, but in his hand,  
He leads the famous Rabican behind;  
And e'en as then, in great doubt he did stand,  
Where to bestow a beast of so good kind:  
She knowing him, went to him out of hand,  
With words, with shows, and with embracements kind,  
And joyed to find this kinsman of her own,  
And unto him herself she maketh known.   

8  
Astolfo much rejoiced at this their meeting,  
Then one the other asked of their well fare,  
And after their long talk, and friendly greeting,  
In which each showed of other loving care:  
Sith I (quoth he) intent hence to be fleeting,  
To see what sights in foreign countries are,  
This horse of me, I shall request you take,  
Till I return, and keep him for my sake.   

9  
Also he said, this corselet and this spear,  

〈…〉 sear called Lauced 〈…〉.  With you I leave till I return again,  
(This spear the son of Galafren did bear,  
Whom as you heard before Ferraw had slain,)  
With head whereof, if any touched were,  
Strait ways to fall to ground they must be feign,  
All these he left behind to make him light,  
Before that he begins to take his flight.   

10  

He returns to 〈◊〉 book about the 88 staff. Simile.  Thus leave once ta'en, away the Duke doth sore,  
First low, and after still more high and high,  
Till at the length she could him see no mores  
So doth the Pilot first, with watchful eye,  
Guide out his vessel softly by the shore,  
While he doth think the rocks and shallows nigh:  
But after when he dreads no more such doubts,  
He sails apace, and claps on all his clouts.   

11  
Now when the Duke was from the damsel gone,  
What she might do she mused in her mind,  
And carefully she meditates thereon:  
How she may take the journey first assigned,  
And not neglect her kinsman's charge; anon  

One horse of Astolfa, the other her own that she took from Penabell.  A wandering peasant 'twas her hap to find,  
To him she doth betake the horses spare,  
Though of the ways they both unskilful are.   

12  
Her meaning was to go to Vallumbrose,  
As first her love and she concluded had,  
Whom there to find she certain doth suppose;  
Whom there to find, she would have been full glad,  
But lo a quite contrary course she goes,  
And sees a sight that made her then full sad,  
Her father's house Montalbanie she spied,  
In which as then her mother did abide.   

13  
If she shall forward go, approaching nire,  
She shallbe stayed there, she stands in doubt,  
If she stand still, or backward do retire,  
She fears to meet acquaintance there about;  
If she be stayed, she feels such burning fire,  
Of longing love as cannot be put out:  
She chanced amid these thoughts, and many other,  
To meet Alardo there her younger brother.   

14  
This meeting in her mind bred much vexation,  
When as she found her brother her had spied,  
And made her alter her determination,  
Which that she might from him the better hide,  
She used some common words of salutation,  
And to Montalban with him she doth ride,  
Where as her mother, full of care and fear,  
Had wished, and waited for her coming there.   

15  
But all those kind embracings and those kisses,  
She had of parent, kinsmen kind, and friends,  
She deems of little value to those blisses,  
That she had lost, and thought them small amends:  
But sith to meet Rogero now she misles,  
To send a messenger she now intends,  
Some such to whom she may commit the charge.  
To tell her mind unto her love at large.   

16  
And if need were to pray him in her name,  
As he had promised her, to be baptized,  
And to excu'e, that thither she not came,  
As they together had before devised:  
Besides his horse Frontino, by the same,  
She sent a horse of goodness nor despised,  
No horse in France or Spain esteemed more,  
Bayardo sole except, and Brigliadore.   

17  
Rogero (if you call it well to mind)  
What time the Griffith horse he first did take, 
In the fourth book.   
That soared away as swift as western wind,  
And forced him quickly Europe to forsake,  
That gallant beast Frontino left behind,  
Whom Bradamant then, for his master's sake,  
took home, and with much care and costly feeding  
Made him by this time, fair and fat exceeding.   

18  
And strait her maids and women servants all,  
That skilful were to few, to weave, and knit,  
She doth to work in haste together call,  
And she herself among them all doth sit,  
To work a net, of art and cost not small,  
For his caparison to make it fit:  
When this was done, and finished, strait way after,  
She calls her nurse Callitrifeas daughter.   

19  
This maid knew best her mind of all the rest,  
And off had heard her praising to the skies,  
Rogeroes comely shape, and valiant breast,  
His sugared speech, sweet face, and lou'ly eyes,  
This maid with secrets all she trusted best,  
On this maids secrecy she much relies;  
Hyppalea named was this trusty maid,  
Her then she called, and thus to her she said.   

20  
Hyppalea mine, you know of all my crew,  
Of women servants, I esteem you most,  
As one that hath been secret, wise, and true,  
(A praise of which we women seld can boast)  
My meaning is to make a choice of you,  
To have you to Rogero ride in post;  
And unto him mine absence to excuse,  
And show, that I could neither will nor choose.   

21  
Yourself (quouth she) may ride a little nag,  
And in your hand lead by Frontino spare,  
And if perhaps some fool willbe so brag,  
As that to take the horse from you he dare,  
To make him that he shall no farther wag,  
But tell who owes the horse, and do not care:  
She thought Rogero was of so great fame,  
That every one would quake to hear his name.   

22  
Thus when Hypalca was instructed well,  
Of all that to her arrant did belong,  
And that no more remained behind to tell,  
She took her horse, and there she stayed not long,  
In ten miles' space (so lucky it befell)  
None offer made to do her any wrong,  
No traveler, no knight, nor peasant stayed her,  
Nor once with word or deed so much as frayed her.   

23  
About the time the Sun to South did mount,  
She met (poor soul) a knight, unto her cost,  

●domene.  That Turk most terrible called Rodomount,  
That followed armed on foot, a page in post;  
Who when he saw a horse of such account,  
He God blasphemd and all the heavenly host,  
That such a gallant serviceable beast,  
In some man's hand, he had not found at least.   

24  
He had before professed by solemn vow,  
When wanting horse, he traveled on his feet,  
That were't from knight, or knave that drives a plough,  
To take perforce the next horse he should meet:  
Yet though he liked the horse, to take this now,  
And rob a mayb thereof, he thought unmeet,  
He sees her lead a horse, and he doth lack,  
And oft he wished his master on his back.   

25  
I would he were (quoth she) he soon would make,  
You change your mind, and glad to get you hence,  
And you should find how much you do mistake.  
Your strength and force to offer him offence.  
And who (quoth he) is this, of whom you 〈◊〉  
Rogero she replies: forsooth, and sense  
So great a champion is the horses own  
I may (said he) then take him with 〈◊〉 honour.   

26  
To take his horse (quoth he) I now intent,  
For of a horse you see I stand in need:  
And if I find it true as you pretend,  
That he so stout a champion is in deed,  
I Rodomont this action will defend,  
Now on my present journey I proceed,  
And where I go my virtues shine so bright,  
He soon may find me if he list to fight.   

27  
This said, with cruel threats, and part with force,  
He got his will, full sore against her will,  
And strait he mounteth up upon that horse,  
She cursing followed him, and banning still,  
But of those curses he doth little force;  
Then winners boast, when leesers speak their fill,  

Sentence.  Best pleased was he, when as she wished him worst,  

Sentence.  As still the fox fares best when he is cursed.   

28  
But what she saith he little doth regard,  
Suppose she cursed, or prayed, or railed, or cried,  
He seeks out Doralice and Mandricard,  
And had the little dwarf to be his guide,  
No little haste he maketh thitherward:  
But here a whilemine author steps aside, 
He comes to Rodomont 24. book. 78. staff.   
And to that place of purpose makes digression,  
Where Pinabell was shriu'n without confession.   

29  
The noble Dame no sooner left the place,  
Where late this caitive by her hand was slain,  
But Zerbin there arrived in little space, 
Zerbin.   
With old Gabrina, 
Gabrina.  who perceiving plain,  
One murdered, strait he followed the trace,  
(Lest murder unrevenged should remain)  
He minds if fortune be so much his furderer:  
To be revenged sharply on the murderer.   

30  
Gabrina to the quarry strait approacheth, 
Quarry is a word properly signifying the soul, that the halke hath kold, and sometime by metaphor is used for a dead body.   
Look all about, searching the corpse and prying,  
(As one that still on every gain encroacheth)  
To win both by the living and the dying,  
In purses and in pokets all she pocheth,  
Of him that murdered on the ground was lying,  
As having this, conjoined to other evils,  
In covetise to pass the very devils.   

31  
She would have had his cote and armour feign,  
Save that she knew not how them to have hidden,  
But from great part of that desired gain,  
By want of leisure she was then forbidden;  
Howb'it she did convey away his chain,  
And oer Zerbino back again was ridden,  
She put it safely where it was not seen,  
Her upper gown and peticore between.   

32  
And sore it grieved her to leave the rest,  
But now Zerbino was returned back,  
And for the time drew nigh of taking rest,  
And night came now to spread his mantel black,  
To seek some lodging out they thought it best,  
Of which, 
Altariva was Anselmus house father a Pinabell.  in that wild country was great lack,  
They leave the valley, and they came that night,  
Unto a castle Altariva height.   

33  
They thither went, and long they had not stayed,  
But in came people with great exclamation,  
With woeful news, that many hearts dismayed,  
And filled their mouths and eyes with lamentation,  
How Pinabell was murdered and betrayed,  
And lost his life, & worldly habitation.  
And strait they brought the corpse with light of torches  
And led the same through all the courts & porches.   

34  
Great were the plaints, the sorrow and the grief,  
By kindred made, by tenants and his friends;  
But by his father, old Anselmus chief,  
Who, though revenge be but a small amends,  
And his sons life was now past all relief,  
By search to find the murderer he intends,  
Zerbino hereof makes himself a stranger,  
As well to shun suspicion as danger.   

35  
Now when the funerals in stately sort,  
Ordained were with pomp and superstition  
To which great store of people did resort,  
And all that would, had frank and free permission,  
Strait with oyes, a crier doth report,  
Thereto assigned by that Earl's commission,  
That who so could the murderer bewray.  
Should have a thousand ducats for his pay.   

36  
This news from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear,  
(As news are wont to do) did fly so fast,  
That old Gabrina, being present there,  
Among the rest, heard of it at the last:  
Who either for the hatred she did bear,  
To good Zerbino, for some matters past,  
Or else for gain of that so great reward,  
Strait to destroy Zerbino the prepared.   

37  
And that she might more surely him entrap,  
With th'earl himself to speak she doth request,  
And probably, she tells how this mishap,  
Was by Zerbino wrought his new come guest:  
And strait she pulled the chain out of her lap,  
Which sole might serve to verify the rest:  
That aged fire, that all the tale believed,  
Was sore enraged herewith, not only grieved.   

38  
And lifting up his handsunto the skies,  
With age now feeble, feeble now with woe,  
With fainting voice he spoke, and watery eyes,  
(My son) thou shalt not unrevenged go:  
And while in bed secure Zerbino lies,  
Not thinking he had been betrayed so,  
With armed men his lodging was beset,  
He naked ta'en, as is bird in vet.   

39  
With as great cruelty as could be shown,  
His princely arms were pinioned last behind him,  
And to a dungeon deep he strait was thrown,  
And that vile place, to bide in was assigned him,  
Until the sentence of his death were known:  
In fine Anselmus (so did passion blind him)  
(Her likely tale, his wrath so rashly leading)  
Condemned him, and never heard him pleading.   

40  
Thus was this worthy Prince without all cause,  
Condemned to die (such is the woe full being,  

Sentence.  Where hests of lawless lords, must stand for laws,  
Though from all laws and reason dilagreeing)  
Now near and near his execution draws,  
And gazing people, greedy still of seeing,  
In clusters march and follow all confused,  
On horse, on foot, as at ●uch time is used.   

41  
But lo how God that ever doth defend,  
Those innocents that put in him their trust,  
A help unlooked for did thither send,  
And freed him from this doom of death unjust:  
Orlando did e'en then the hill ascend,  

Orlando. Isabell.  Orlando is the man that save him must,  
And at that time there did with him remain,  
The daughter of Galego, king of Spain.   

42  
This was that Isabella, whom he of late,  
Recovered from the outlaws in the cave:  
And having brought her out of that ill state,  
Yet still he promised care of her to have,  
And whatsoever danger or debate,  
To him befell, yet her still did save:  
Orlando all that great assembly saw,  
That did the knight to execution draw.   

43  
He thither went and ask of him the cause,  
Why he was drawn unto a death so cruel,  
Forsooth (Zerbino said) against all laws,  
I am condemned if you the matter knew well,  
Anselmus rage, that will admit no pause,  
Unto this flame, doth kindle all the fuel:  
Believing falsely that I slew his son,  
Whereas by me (God knows) it was not done.   

44  
Thus Zerbin said, and said it in such sorr,  
As made Orlando vow him to relieve,  
For very apt he was, each ill report,  
Of any of Maganza to believe;  
Each house still thought to cut the the other short,  
Each house still sought the other how to grieve:  
Each house long time, had ta'en a pride and pleasure,  
To work the other danger and displeasure.   

45  
Unloose the knight ye caitiffs' (strait he cried)  
Else look for death to be your due reward:  
What man is this (quoth one) that gapes so wide●  
And speaks to soolishly without regard?  
Were he of steel, of strength and temper tried,  
And we of straw, his suit might hap be hard.  
This said, he taketh up a mighty lance,  
And runs against the Palladine of France.   

46  
Orlando ran at him with couched spear,  
And though his armour were both good and sure,  
As namely that Zerbino erst did wear,  
Yet was the stroke too grievous to endure,  
For though the beaver did it stiffly bear,  
Yet did the blow a greater hurt procure:  
For on the cheek, it gave him such a check,  
That though it pierced not, it broke his neck.   

47  
Nor at that course did all his fury cease,  
Six other of that spear the force then felt,  
Then with his sword among the thickest press,  
Such store of thrusts, and deadly blows he dealt,  
That many in the place did strait decease;  
And e'en as snow against the Sun doth melt,  
So melted they and fainted in his fight, 
Simile.   
That in an hour he put them all to flight.   

48  
When they were fled, he set Zerbino free,  
Who would have kissed the ground whereon he trod,  
And done him reverence humbly on his knee,  
But that the Earl such curtsy him forbade:  
But yet he thank him in the highest degree,  
As one he honoured most, excepting God:  
Then did he put his armour on again,  
Which late was worn by him that there was slain.   

49  
Now while Zerbino there a little stayed,  
Preparing with Orlando to go hence,  
Behold fair Isabella, that princely maid,  
That all the while had stayed a little thence,  
And sees no farther cause to be afraid,  
Game near, & brought greatioy and great offence  
By divers passions bred of one desire,  
Some cold as ice, and some as hot as fire.   

50  
For where before Zerbino thought her drowned,  
Now certain he rejoiced very much,  
To see her in his presence safe and found,  
And that her misadventure was not such:  
But weighing in whose hand he had her sound,  
A jealous fear forthwith his heart doth touch,  
And inwardly a greater anguish bred,  
Then late it had, to hear that she was ded.   

51  
To see her in the hands of such a knight,  
It greatly did him anger and displease,  
From whom to offer, her to take by might,  
It were no honesty now haply ease,  
But for Orlando's sake he ought of right,  
All passions, both of love and wrath appease;  
To whom in thankfulness it were but meet,  
To lay his hands under Orlando's feet.   

52  
Wherefore he makes no words, but on he goth  
In silent sort, till coming to a well  
To drink they lighted, being thirsty both,  
And each his drought with water doth expel,  
But when the damsel saw and knew for troth,  
That was Zerbino whom she loned so well,  
(For when to drink his beaver he untied)  
Strait she her love had through his beaver spied.   

53  
With open arms she runs him to embrace,  

〈◊〉 de fastis: 〈◊〉 viri collo 〈◊〉 pependit 〈◊〉  And hangs about his neck a pleasant yoke,  
And speechless she remained a pretty space,  
And with her crystal tears (before she spoke)  
Surprised with joy, she all bedewed his face,  
And long it was ere into speech she broke,  
By which the noble Earl did plainly see,  
That this could no man but Zerbino be.   

54  
Now when she had again her vital spirits,  
And that she able was her mind to show,  
First she Orlando's great deserts recites,  
That rescued her from place of shame and woe,  
Commending him above all other knights,  
That undefiled had preserved her so,  
And prayed her dear, when she had made recital  
Of his good deeds, to make him some requital.   

55  
Great thanks were given, and proffers great there were  
Of recompense and service on each ●●de,  
But lo a hap that made them speech forbear,  
For why an armed knight they had espied:  

Mandricardo.  'twas Mandricardo that arrived there,  
Who as you heard, these many days did ride  
To seek this Earl, till meeting by the way  
Fair Doralice, a while it made him stay.   

56  

In the 14. book.  You heard how Mandricard sought out the track,  
(Moved thereunto by envy and disdain)  
Of this fierce knight, apparelled all in black,  
By whom the king of Tremysen was slain,  
And those Noritians all, so put to wrack,  
As few of them unwounded did remain,  
And now he found him as it came to pass,  
Yet knew he not that this Orlando was.   

57  
But marking well the signs and tokens like,  
To those he heard, of such as thence were fled,  
You are (quoth he) the self same man I seek,  
By whom so many of my friends are ded:  
I have (he said) traveled above a week  
To find you out, and now at last am sped,  
You are the man that I have sought (I guess)  
And lure your manly look doth show no less.   

58  
Sir (quoth Orlando) though I want your name,  
A noble knight you are it may be guest,  
For sure a heart so thirsting after fame,  
Is seldom bred in base unnoble breast:  
But if to see me only now you came,  
I strait herein will grant you your request  
And that you may behold me to your fill,  
I will put off mine armour if you will.   

59  
But when you well have viewed me all about,  
If yet you have a farther mind to try,  
Which of us two can prove himself most stout,  
And first in field can make the to their fly:  
Attempt it when you lift, and make no doubt,  
But hereunto right soon agree shall I:  
That (quoth the pagan) is my mind indeed,  
And thus to fight together they agreed.   

60  
But when Orlando viewed the Pagan king,  
And law no pole-axe at his saddle bow,  
No sword by side, no bow, nor dart, nor sling,  
But e'en a spear, he needs of him would know,  
When that were burst, unto what other thing  
He then would trust, to give or bear a blow:  
Tush (quoth the pagan prince) you need not fear,  
But I will match you only with the spear.   

61  
I have (quoth he) an oath most solemn sworn,  
Since first the noble Hector's arms I won,  
That by my side should never sword be worn,  
Nor other iron weapon, till I can  
Get Durindana by Orlando borne,  
Though how he gate it, well I cannot scan,  
But since he gate it, great reports do fly,  
That noble deeds of arms he doth thereby.   

62  
No less (quoth he) I sane on him would wreak  
My father's death, whom falsely he betrayed,  
For well I wot my sire was not so weak,  
With any Christian to be overlaid:  
At this Orlando could not choose but speak,  
It is a lie (quoth he) that thou hast said,  
I am Orlando, and I will not bear it,  
This sword is Durindan, win it and wear it.   

63  
And though this sword is justly wholly mine,  
Yet for this time I frankly do agree,  
A while it shall be neither mine nor thine,  
And if in combat you can vanquish me,  
Then take't, and thereat I shall not repine:  
This said, he hanged the sword upon a tree,  
indifferently between them both to stand,  
Until the strife by combat might be scanned.   

64  
Now one at th'other run with couched spear,  
And on the headpiece each the other strake,  
The staves in sundry pieces rend and tear,  
But by the blows the men small hurt do take:  
And now the trunchens only left them were,  
And at four blows the trunchens likewise broke,  
Thus when they saw all other weapons missed,  
At last they were enforced to fight with fist.   

65  

Simile  So have I seen two clowns fall at debate,  
About some watercourse or mark of land,  
And either clap the tother on the pate,  
With crabtree staff, or with as crabbed hand;  
Such of this conflict was the present state,  
And each of them doth to his tackle stand,  
And being tired with giving fruitless stripes,  
At last they flatly fell to handy gripes.   

66  
The Pagan, part by sleight and part by force,  
Thought to have done as Hercles' in time past,  
To fierce Antheus did, 
Antheus. Look in the History.  and th'earl enforce,  
To yield himself, or leave his horse at last.  
Orlando that could surely sit his horse,  
With all his strength bestrides the saddle fast,  
Yet did the Pagan heave him with such strength,  
That all his gyrses broken were at length.   

67  
Down came the Earl, yet kept his saddle still,  
Nor what had happened was he well aware,  
But as he fell, intending by his will,  
Unto the Pagan king to work some care,  
He meant (but his attempt succeeded ill)  
To overthrow the horse the Pagan bare,  
But missing hold, the horse unhurt remains,  
Yet off he pulled his head stall and his rains.   

68  
The horse that had at liberty his head,  
Runs over ditch and valley, hedge and wood,  
As partly fear, and partly courage led,  
For nothing was that his mad course withstood:  
But Mandricard still beats him on his head,  
And e'en as if he speech had understood,  
He threatens him (except he stay) to beat him,  
And with fair speech sometime he doth entreat him.   

69  
But all was one, three mile outright he road,  
Ere he could make the harebrain horse to stay,  
Or cause him once to make a small abode,  
But more and more he gallops still away:  
At last with haste the horse and eke the load  
Fell down into a ditch, and there they lay,  
Both horse and man all foiled and tayd with dirt,  
Yet neither horse nor man had any hurt.   

70  
This while Dame Doralice that saw her guide  
Thus post away against his will amain,  
She thought it were not safe behind to bide,  
And therefore followed him though with great pain,  
And seeing that he could no farther ride,  
Because his wilful horse did want a rain,  
She prays him take her horse's rain and bit,  
●or mine (quoth she) will go though wanting it.   

71  
Much did the Pagan praise her gentle offer,  
Yet did refuse it as a part too base,  
To let her want and take her bridle of her,  
He thought it were to him a great disgrace.  
But lo good chance a better mean did proffer,  
Gabrina came unwares unto the place,  
She that betrayed of late the Scottish Prince,  
And heard (of like) of his delivery since.   

72  
And therefore fearing punishment and blame,  
And clogged with guilty conscience, 
Qui 〈…〉  fled the light,  
Until by hap vowares she thither came,  
And on this couple fortuned to light:  
They could not choose but make great sport & game,  
To see so strange and unagreeing sight,  
As such a withered old ilfavord hag, 
Simia is 〈◊〉, the old 〈◊〉   
To ride in purple on an ambling nag.   

73  
He that of right or wrong did little pass,  
Means with her store his lack there to supply,  
Nor once demanded who or what she was,  
But takes away her bridle by and by:  
She skreecheth out, and weeps, and cries alas,  
e'en ready fearing hurt, unhurt to die:  
Hereafter I shall tell you what became on her, 
He comes 〈◊〉 24. 〈◊〉 31. 〈◊〉   
Now for a farewell I do wish a shame on her.   

74  
This while Orlando had his girses mended,  
And new provided what before did lack,  
And mounting on his horse, a while attended  
To see iflo the Pagan would come back;  
But seeing that he came not, he intended  
To follow him, and find him by the track:  
But first (as one that well good manners knew)  
He bade Zerbino and his spouse adieu.   

75  
feign would Zerbino with this Earl have gone,  
And take such part of every hap as he,  
But that the noble Earl hereof would none,  
And said there could not more dishonour be,  
Then for a knight to shun to fight alone;  
Wherefore he would not thereunto agree:  
Thus Zerbin loath doth from this Earl depart,  
Poor Isbell shedding tears for tender hart.   

76  
But ere they went, this Earl Zerbino prayed,  
If first he happed on Mandricard to light,  
To tell him how long time for him he stayed,  
And meant to seek him out again to fight,  
Now that his coming was so long delayed,  
He meant to Paris ward to go that night,  
To Charles his camp, where if he would inquire of him  
At any time he should be sure to hear of him.   

77  
Thus much be prayed, and thence away he went,  
To seek out Mandricard, but found him not,  
And (for the day now more than half was spent,  
The Sun and season waxing somewhat hot)  
A shady grove he found, and there he meant  
To take some ease, but found small ease God wot:  
He thinks his thirst and heat a while to suage,  
But found that set him in worse heat and rage.   

78  
For looking all about the grove, behold  
In sundry places fair ingrau'n he sees,  
Her name whose love he more esteems then gold;  
By her own hand in barks of divers trees,  
This was the place wherein before I told,  
Medoro used to pay his surgeon's fees,  
Where she, to boast of that that was her shame,  
Used oft to write hers and Medoros' name.   

79  

〈◊〉 the use of ●●iting in trees, good Poets 〈◊〉 testified. propertied. Vos 〈◊〉 testies, si 〈◊〉 habet arbour 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & Arta 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of Eron. 〈◊〉 serumatà 〈…〉 〈◊〉.  And then with true love knots and pretty poses,  
(To she how she to him by love was knit)  
Her inward thoughts by outward words discloses,  
In her much love to show her little wit.  
Orlando knew the hand, and yet supposes  
It was not she that had such posts writ;  
And to beguile himself, tush, tush (quoth he)  
There may be more Angelica's then she. 
ca●●    

80  
Yea, but I know too well that pretty hand,  
Oft hath she sent me letters of her writing:  
Then he bethinks how she might understand  
His name and love by that same new inditing,  
And how it might be done long time he scanned,  
With this fond thought so sondly him delighting.  
Thus with small hope, much fear, all malcontent,  
In these and such conceits the time he spent.   

81  
And ay the more he seeks out of his thought  
To drive this fancy, still it doth increase,  

〈◊〉  e'en as a bird that is with birdlime caught,  
Doth beat her wings, and strives, and doth not cease  
Until she hath herself all overwrought,  
And quite entangled in the slimy grease:  
Thus on went he, till him the way did bring  
Unto a shady cave and pleasant spring.   

82  
This was a place, wherein above the rest,  
This loving pair, leaving their homely host,  
Spent time in sports that may not be expressed,  
Here in the parching heat they tarrid most,  
And here Medore (that thought himself most blest)  
Wrote certain verses as in way of boast:  
Which in his language doubtless sounded pretty,  
And thus I turn them to an English ditty.   

83  
Ye pleasant plants green herbs, and waters fair,  
And cave with smell, and grateful shadow mixed,  
Where sweet Angelica, daughter and heir  
Of Galafronne, on whom in vain were fixed  
Full many hearts, with me did oft repair  
Alone, and naked lay mine arms betwixt;  
I poor Medore, can yield but praise and thanks,  
For these great pleasures found amid your banks.   

84  
And pray each Lord whom Cupid holds in prey,  
Each knight, each dame, and every one beside,  
Or gentle or mean sort that pass this way,  
As fancy or his fortune shall him guide,  
That to the plants, herbs, spring, and cave he say,  
Long may the Sun and Moon maintain your pride,  
And the fair crew of Nymphs make such purveyance,  
As hither come no herds to your annoyance.   

85  
It written was there in th'Arabian tongue,  
Which tongue Orlando perfect understood,  
As having learned it when he was but young,  
And oft the skill thereof had done him good,  
But at this time it him so deeply stung,  
It had been well that he it never could,  
And yet we see, 
Sentence  to know men still are glad,  
And yet we see much knowledge makes men mad.   

86  
Twice, thrice, yea five times he doth read the time,  
And though he saw and knew the meaning plain,  
Yet, that this love was guilty of such crime,  
He will not let it sink into his brain,  
Oft he peruled it, and every time  
It doth increase his sharp tormenting pain,  
And ay the more he on the matter mused,  
The more his wits and senses were confused.   

87  
e'en then was he of with well-nigh distraught,  
So quite he was given over unto grief,  
(And sure if we believe as proof hath taught, 
Sentence.   
This torture is of all the rest the chief)  
His spirit was dead, his courage quailed with thought,  
He doth despair and look for no relief;  
And sorrow did his senses so surprise,  
That words his tongue, and tears forsook his eyes.   

88  
The raging pang remained still within,  
That would have burst out all at once too fast:  
e'en so we see the water tarry in  
A bottle little mouthed, 
Simile.  and big in waist,  
That though you topsie tur●y turn the brim,  
The liquor bides behind with too much haste,  
And with the striving oft is in such taking,  
As scant a man can get it out with shaking.   

89  
At last he comes unto himself anew,  
And in his mind another way doth frame,  
That that which there was written was not true,  
But writ of spite his Lady to defame,  
Or to that end, that he the same might view,  
And so his heart with jealousy inflame:  
Well be't who list (quoth he) I see this clearly,  
He hath her hand resembled passing nearly.   

90  
With this small hope, with this poor little spark,  
He doth some deal revive his troubled spirit,  
And for it was now late, and waxed dark,  
He seeks some place where he may lie that night,  
At last he hears a noise of dogs that bark,  
He smells some smoke, and sees some candle light, 
Virgil ●th the like. But 〈◊〉 described with more particulars E●iam summa pro●ul vill●rum culmina sumat.   
He taketh his Inn, with will to sleep, not eat,  
As filled with grief, and with none other meat.   

91  
But lo his hap was at that house to host,  
Where fair Angelica had lain before,  
And where her name on every door and post,  
With true love knots was joined to Medore,  
That knot his name whom he detested most,  
Was in his eye and thought still evermore:  
He dares not ask, nor once the matter tuch,  
For knowing more of that he knows too much.   

92  

〈…〉  But vain it was himself so to beguile,  
For why his host unasked by and by,  
That saw his guest sit there so sad the while,  
And thinks to put him from his dumps thereby,  
Beginneth plain without all fraud or guile,  
Without concealing truth or adding lie,  
To tell that tale to him without regard,  
Which divers had before with pleasure heard.   

93  
As thus, how at Angelica's request  
He holp unto his house to bring Medore,  
Who then was sorely wounded in his breast,  
And she with surgery did heal his sore:  
But while with her own hands the wound she dressed,  
Blind Cupid wounded her as much or more,  
That when her skill and herbs had cured her patient,  
Her cureless wound in love made her unpatient.   

94  
So that, admit she were the greatest Queen  
Of same, and living in those Easter parts,  
Yet so with fancy she was overseen,  
To marry with a page of mean deserts;  

Sentence.  Thus love (quoth he) will have his godhead seen,  
In famous Queens, and highest Princes hearts:  
This said (to end the tale) he showed the jewel  
That she had given him, which Orlando knew well.   

95  
This tale, and chiefly this same last conclusion,  

A phrase of speech used in the Latin. In●●●● securim.  Was e'en a hatchet to cut of all hope,  
When love had after many a vain collusion,  
Now for his farewell lent him such a rope  
To hang himself, and drown him in confusion,  
Yet feign he would deny his sorrow scope,  
And though a while to show it he forbears,  
It breaketh out at last in sighs and tears.   

96  
And as it were enforced he gives the rain  
To raging grief upon his bed alone,  
His eyes do shed a very shower of rain,  
With many a scalding sigh and bitter groan,  
He slept as much as if he had then lain  
Upon a bed of thorns and stuffed with stone.  
And as he lay thereon and could not rest him,  
The bed itself gave matter to molest him.   

97  
Ah wretch I am (thus to himself he said)  
Shall I once hope to take repose and rest me  
In that same house? yea e'en in that same bed  
Where my ungrateful love so lewdly dressed me?  
Nay, 
Vulture is that bird that we call R●●●●bus there are divers kinds of them.  let me first an hundred times be ded,  
First wolves devour and vultures shall digest me.  
Strait up he starts, and on he puts his clothes,  
And leaves the house, so much the bed he loathes.   

98  
He leaves his host, nor once doth take his leave,  
He fared so ill, he bids them not farewell,  
He leaves the town, his servants he doth leave,  
He rides, but where he rides he cannot tell.  
And when alone himself he doth perceive  
To weep and wail, nay e'en to howl and yell,  
He doth not cease to give his grief a vent,  
That inwardly so sore did him torment.   

99  
The day the night to him were both aleeke,  
Abroad upon the cold bare earth he lies,  
No sleep, no food he takes, nor none would seek,  
All sustenance he to himself denies.  
Thus he began, and ended half the week,  
And he himself doth marvel, whence his eyes  
Are fed so long with such a spring of water,  
And to himself thus reasons on the matter.   

100  
No, no, these be no tears that now I shed,  
These be no tears, nor can tears run so rife,  
But fire of frenzy drawth up to my head,  
My vital humour that should keep my life;  
This stream will never cease till I be dead,  
Then welcome death and end my fatal strife:  
No comfort in this life my woe can minish,  
But thou who canst both life and sorrow finish.   

101  
These are not sighs, for sighs some respite have,  
My gripes, my pangs, no respite do permit,  
The blindfold boy made me a seeing slave,  
When from her eyes my heart he first did hit.  
Now all inflamed, I burn, I rage and rave,  
And in the midst of flame consume no whit:  
Love sitting in my heart a master cruel,  
Blows with his wings, feeds with his will the fuel.   

102  
I am not I, the man that erst I was, 
〈◊〉 hath the 〈◊〉 〈…〉 ille 〈…〉 qui 〈…〉   
Orlando, he is buried and dead,  
His most ungrateful love (ah foolish lass)  
Hath killed Orlando, and cut off his head:  
I am his ghost, that up and down must pass,  
In this tormenting hell for ever led,  
To be a fearful sample and a just,  
To all such fools as put in love their trust.   

103  
Thus wandering still in ways that have no way,  
He happed again to light upon the cave,  
Where (in remembrance of their pleasant play)  
Medoro did that epigram engrave.  
To see the stones again, his woes display,  
And her ill name, and his ill hap deprave,  
Did on the sudden all his sense enrage,  
With hate, with fury, with revenge and rage.   

104  
Straightways he draweth forth his fatal blade,  
And hews the stones, to heaven the shivers flee,  
Accursed was that fountain, cave and shade,  
The arbour and the flowers and every tree:  
Orlando of all places havoc made,  
Where he those names together joined may see,  
Yea to the spring he did perpetual hurt, 
Ovid deserting the death of 〈…〉- Subl●●●●di●● Soder 〈◊〉 〈…〉 capiliss Perg 〈◊〉 express 〈◊〉 cebeg Romans, 〈◊〉 christian 〈◊〉 〈…〉   
By filling it with leaves, boughs, stones and dirt.   

105  
And having done this foolish frantic feat,  
He lays him down all weary on the ground,  
Distempered in his body with much heat,  
In mind with pains that no tongue can expound,  
Three days he doth not sleep, nor drink, nor eat,  
But lay with open eyes as in a sound.  
The fourth with rage, and not with reason waked,  
He rends his clothes, and runs about stark naked.   

106  
His helmet here he flings, his poulderns there;  
He casts away his curates and his shield:  
His sword he throws away, he cares not where,  
He scatters all his armour in the field:  
No rag about his body he doth bear,  
As might from cold or might from shame him shield,  
And save he left behind this fatal blade,  
No doubt he had therewith great havoc made.   

107  
But his surpassing force did so exceed,  
All common men, that neither sword nor bill,  
Nor any other weapon he did need,  
Mere strength suffisd him to do what he will,  
He roots up trees as one would root a weed:  
And e'en as birders laying nets with skill, 
Simile.   
Pair slender thorns away with easy strokes,  
So he did play with ashes, elms and oaks.   

108  
The herdmen and the shepherds that did hear,  
The hideous noise and unacquainted sound,  
With fear and wonder great approached near,  
To see, and know, what was hereof the ground  
But now I must cut off this treatise hear,  
Lest this my book do grow beyond his bound;  
And if you take some pleasure in this text,  
I will go forward with it in the next.   
In Bradamants sorrow for want of Rogero, 
Moral.  we may note how it falleth out many times, that over great desire of revenge, worketh to ourselves as great displeasure, as we wished to our enemies. In Rodomont, that would not take the horse from Hippalca, till he knew that a brave champion was the owner thereof; we may note, that though wrong be in deed a thing reprovable, to whom soever it is done, yet it is far more tolerable, or at least excusable, to be done to ones equal, then to poor or inferior persons. In Zerbinos' happy deliverance, from a shameful death, by Orlando's means, we may observe that which can never be too much observed, namely how divine providence never fails the innocent. In all the proceedings of Zerbino and Isabella, a pattern might be taken of gratitude, of constantness, and of noble and princely inclination.  
Of Hercules and Antheus, 
History.  though the original itself seem but fabulous, yet thus it is written, that they two wrestling, Hercules perceived that Antheus strength increased by falling to the ground, and therefore to take him from his force, he took him up in his arms, and so held him from the ground till he had utterly vanquished him. Plutarch in the life of Sertorius saith this Antheus was threescore cubits high.  
In Astolfo, 
Allegory.  that put off his armour, and gave away his spare horse, and all his superstitious weapons, when he was to take the Griffith horse, and fly about the world, may be gathered a good allegorical sense, or rather it may be called theological; namely that he that will betake himself to so high a profession, as to teach and study the high mysteries of Christian religion, and live in contemplation of heavenly things, should cast away the burdenous clog of all worldly encumbrances, and to use the phrase of our Saviour himself, (leave father, wife and children) and whatsoever else may be a hindrance to our proceedings in that kind: but this discourse is fit for another place, and myself also handled it more amply in a little dialogue of marriage that I made in mine young days, and therefore here I will cut it off for avoiding tediousness. Concerning Orlando madness there is a notable allegory to be gathered thereof, of which (because I now have taken upon me to go thorough with the whole work.) I will defer to speak till I come to restoring of his wit again: which I count more proper for this subject.  
But in the manner of his falling mad, 
Allusion.  my author hath (in mine opinion) showed himself his craft's master, setting it out, very pathetically, or (to speak English) passionately. Further there is in it a notable Peripetia, which signifies the agnition, or taking knowledge of a sudden mutation of fortune, either good or bad to a contrary extreme: of which kind there be many examples, but specially one, to which mine author seems to allude. Namely that of Oedipus in Sophocles; for when a messenger came to him, to tell him how by the death of Polybus he was elected king of Corinth, Oedipus refused to come thither, for fear of committing incest with his own mother (of which the Oracle had foretold him) the messenger thinking to clear him of that scruple; unadvisedly told him whose son he was (which he knew not before) and thereby now knew certainly that, which before he mistrusted, namely that he had lain with his mother, whereupon in deed he fell stark mad, and was after recured as appears in the story.  
Here end the first twenty-three. books of Ariosto.   

  

THE XXIIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
The noble Zerbin, pardon doth afford  
To Odrik and Gabrina, graceless pair:  
A Turk with him fights, for Orlando's sword,  
He dies, in arms of Isabella fair.  
Fierce Rodomont with sundry passions stirred,  
Doth fight with cruel Agricanes hair,  
But them in their chief rage their mistress parted,  
From whence to aid their Prince they both departed.  

1  

Sentence.  WHo so shall set on Cupid's snares his foot,  
Must seek to draw back, lest it be caught,  
And madness mere, in love to overshoot,  

〈◊〉: Virgil ●aith of Dido. ●ri ●infoelix Dido total vagatur ●rbe furens.  The fool hath felt, the hath ever taught, wise hath ever taught,  
And though in all alike, it take not root,  
Yet all shall find that love's a thing of nought,  
For sure, 
Sentence.  it is an open sign of madness,  
To have an others pleasure breed thy sadness. 
Sentence.    

2  
Now though effects prove not in all alike,  
Yet all are mad in sort, all go astray,  

Simile.  As in a wilderness where men do seek,  
And more and more in seeking loose their way,  
Wherefore let no man this my wish mislike,  
In whom fond love, shall carry long the sway,  
I wish for due reward, such doting dolts,  
Like wilful prisoners, store of iron bolts.   

3  
Some man perhaps will say, what soft my friend,  
You spy our faults, in your own errors blind;  
And true it is, yet speak I to this end,  
To bring us both into a better mind.  
As for myself I hope ere long to mend,  
And from these bands, in time myself unwind:  
Though it hath ta'en in me such root, I prove it,  
As hard 'tis on the sudden to remove it.   

4  
I showed you in the book that went before,  
By what mishap Orlando warred mad,  
And lost not only care of virtues lore,  
But reason, wit, and all the sense he had:  
His armour he dispersed, his clothes he tore,  
The very clothes, wherewith his corpse was clad:  
And though he wandered, all unarmed and naked,  
Yet at his presence, all the country quaked.   

5  
The countrymen that heard the noise aloof,  
Of trees, that with their fall, made no small crack:  
Came near, and saw by plain and open proof,  
His monstrous strength, by their so monstrous wrack,  
And strait they found it best for their behoof,  
With all the hast they could, to get them back,  
For those he caught he did this lesson teach, 
Sentence.   
To keep a loof from out a mad man's reach.   

6  
Away they fled, but he pursued so fast,  
That some he caught, and some surprised with fear,  
Stood still (as oft it happens) all agost,  
Not knowing how to hide themselves nor where:  
Some other ploughmen seeing what had passed,  
Thought it but little with to tarry there,  
But climbed (for fear) their houses and their churches  
Not trusting strength, of elms, of beech, & burches   

7  
Among the rest he takes one by his heel.  
And with his head knocks out another's brain,  
Which caused both of them such pain to feel,  
As till doom's day they never shall complain;  
Another with his fist he made to reel,  
Till pain itself made him past sense of pain,  
And when the men fled all away afeard,  
Then with like rage he set upon their herd.   

8  
The voice of men, the bellow of beast,  
About the country raised so great a sound,  
As might have well been heard five leagues at least,  
And all the people strait were raised round;  
Each man providing (as he could) the best,  
And for the present time might then be found,  
With bows, with bills, with staves, & pikes, & prongs  
To be revenged, on these outrageous wrongs.   

9  

Simile.  Look how the waves are driven by western blast,  
And one and one, do rise still more and more,  
Until their force so great be at the last,  
They sprinkle all the banks, and beat the shore,  
So now these country's folk came in so fast,  
By two, and three, a dozen and a score:  
Till at the last they grew so great a number,  
Their very multitude themselves did cumber.   

10  
But when they saw their force could do no good,  
And that his skin so strange protection had,  
That though they smote thereon they drew no blood  
They thought, that they might worse be thought then mad,  
To fight with one that all them so withstood,  
Wherefore they parted home dismayed and sad.  
The madman went unto the nearest village,  
Although he cared not for spoil or pillage.   

11  
And finding no man there, nor small nor great,  
For all were fled away from thence for awe;  
As famine forced him, he sought out some meat,  
And were it fine or course, the first he saw,  
In greedy sort he doth devour and eat,  
Not caring if it roasted were or raw,  
And when thus homely he had ta'en repast,  
About the country bedlam-like he passed.   

12  
He fears both man and beast without regard,  
He takes swift goats and fallow Dear in chase,  
Sometimes a Lion fierce, a bore, a pard,  
He kills by strength and swiftness of his pace.  
At last he came where as a knight did guard,  

He returneth to Orlando in the 29 book the 41. staff.  The passage of a bridge, and by the place,  
Had built a tower of no small work and charge,  
As shallbe showed hereafter more at large.   

13  
Now must I tell what hap Zerbino had,  
Who with fair Isabella together road,  
A long that place where this good Earl fell mad.  
But by the way, these two made some abode,  
Where they beheld two men in armour clad,  
That drive a horse that bore a woeful load,  
A knight a prisoner to Zerbino known,  
That had been once a servant of his own.   

14  

Oderik taken prosoner & brought to Zerbino.  This prisoner Oderik of Biskie height,  
In whom the Prince had put so great a trust,  
He made chief choice of him, as of a knight,  
That of his promise would be firm and just.  
But he (fond beast) esteeming small delight,  
And fruitlesie hope, of his unbridled lust,  
Above his sacred oath and promised fealty,  
Would have deflowered her against all lealtie.   

15  
Fair Isabella by hap e'en then was telling,  
How in the boat she desperately was saved;  
And having scaped the stormy seas and swelling,  
How treacherously this wretch himself behaved,  
That (had not outlaws thereabout been dwelling)  
He would have forced her, unto that he craved,  
And e'en as these, or some such words she said,  
She saw the man she spoke of captive led.   

16  
Those two that led the wicked O'drik tide,  
Knew well their Lord when as they came in view,  
Both by the Lady, that was by his side,  
And by the rampant Lion red of hue,  
Borne by the Prince, not for a show of pride,  
But his as from his predecessors dew,  
They light, and with a curtsy to the ground,  
And cap in hand, salute their Lord thus found.   

17  
Zerbino knew and called them both by name,  
Corebo tone, Almonio other height,  
Which two with Isabella from Bayon came,  
In conduct of that most unworthy wight.  
And strait Almonio thus his speech doth frame,  
My Lord (said he) I shall to you recite,  
Some little part, of that unpleasant story,  
That till this hour, had made my heart full sorry.   

18  
Sith (thanked be God) this Lady here doth live, 
Almonios' speech   
Who felt these storms, and therein chiefly smarted,  
I know that she thereof could notice give,  
And hath oer this to you the same imparted;  
I only shall declare what did me grieve,  
And what had happened, since from her I parted,  
What time by this vile wretches lewd intent,  
For horse and men to Rochel I was sent.   

19  
And as I went, so back I turned in haste,  
With men and horse as good as I could get,  
To seek them out mine eyes about I cast,  
But yet mine eyes on them I could not set,  
Their track I found, and following that full fast,  
It brought me to a wood where as I met,  
My fellow Coreb, panting then and groaning,  
This caitiff cursing and himself bemoaning.   

20  
He told me how, he fight in defence,  
Of Isabella, was so sorely wounded,  
That from that place he had not stirred sense,  
And how with bleeding much, he oft had sounded,  
At which report I took so great offence,  
That in my wits I was wellnigh confounded.  
And to revenge, my heart so sharp was whet,  
That Corebs danger quite I did forget.   

21  
But when in vain this wretch I long had sought,  
To Coreb I returned back again,  
Who was so weak, and low by bleeding brought,  
That scant the life did in his limbs remain.  
For which his woeful state, I took great thought,  
As one that deemed it fitter to ordain,  
Some Priests and Friars, burial to procure him,  
Then Surgeons or Physicians that might cure him.   

22  
Yet him unto the town at last I carried,  
Where, by such help our friendly host procured,  
It pleased God, Corebo not miscarried,  
But of his grievous hurts was sound cured;  
Which done, no longer in those parts we tarried,  
But being there by sundry men assured,  
That Odrick in Alfonso's court was biding,  
We thither went to hear of him some tiding.   

23  
And there I challengd Odrick face to face,  

Great praise in 〈◊〉 Prince to pro●●●● innocent 〈◊〉 not malesa●●●.  And by the noble justice of the King,  
And chiefly (as I deem) by God's great grace,  
That only rules and governs every thing,  
I took him prisoner in the present place,  
From whence alive I did him hither bring,  
For why that king that heard his great offence,  
Did grant us liberty to bring him thence.   

24  
I might have stain him, as he well deserved,  
But yet I choosed rather of the twain,  
Unto your doom to have his life reserved,  
That you might point him death with worthy pain,  
And much I joy that luck so well hath served,  
That we so safe have found your grace again,  
And much more I rejoice, if much more may be,  
At health and welfare of this noble Lady.   

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 viewed the prisoner with an heedful eye,  
And much it did his grief of mind increase,  
To think a friend could stray so far awry.  
Then sighing deep; what Odrick is this true,  
Wherewith (quoth he) Almonio chargeth you?   

26  

Odrick speech.  The caitive, humbly prostrate on the ground,  
Forgive my Lord (said he) your servants crime,  

Sentence.  What wight on earth can void of fault be found?  
What Saint is such as doth not sin sometime?  
tween good and bad this difference sole is found,  
That good men sin but ceil, and mend betime,  

Sentence.  The bad man (making scruple none nor question)  
Yields wilfully to every lewd suggestion.   

27  
If you to me some fortress had committed,  

Simile  And I the same had wittingly betrayed,  
I grant such fault were not to be remitted,  
But if I had with force been overlaid,  
Then sure I am my case would have been pittyd,  
At lest no sin should to my charge be laid,  

Sentence  For when the enemy is once the stronger,  
'tis vain to make resistance any longer.   

28  
Even so my Lord, my faith I ought to guard,  
No other than a fortress or a hold,  
Put in my charge with careful watch and ward,  
As long as strength will serve me it to hold:  
And so I kept my faith with due regard,  
Nor was I any way to be controlled,  
Until at last I was so strong assailed,  
That faith gave place, and fancy then prevailed.   

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 love all other passions doth excel,  
But sure if it were ever plainly tried,  
That humble speech doth often wrath expel;  
Now Odricke found of lowly words the fruit,  
That holp him to obtain so hard a suit.   

30  
Zerbino stood a while in mind confused,  
To punish or to pardon his offence,  
Sometime his thoughts all clemency refused,  
Sometime the love and service done long since,  
Assuaged his wrath, and rothers' fault excused,  
And moved him with his folly to dispense:  
And still as rage did kindle fire of wrath, 
Sentence.   
To quench it mercy store of water hath.   

31  
Now while in this same doubt Zerbino stayed,  
Behold by hap Gabrina there was brought,  
She that of late had this good Prince betrayed,  
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 having lost the rains, wherewith to stay him.   

32  
The beastly wretch cried help, and out alas,  
While thus her horse ran over fields and lands,  
But when the Scottish Prince saw who she was,  
And how she thither came he understands,  
He gave God thanks that so had brought to pass,  
To give those two at once into his hands,  
Which two, for their misdeeds above the rest,  
He had great cause to malice and detest.   

33  
And after he had made a little pause,  
Unto his servants turning thus he said,  
Sirs, Odricke shall not die, although by laws  
His fact deserves no less uprigtly weighed,  
For sith he faith affection was the cause,  
Content I am, on love the fault be laid,  
The sin to which a man by love is driven, 
Sentence.   
So much the rather ought to be forgiven.   

34  
The force of strong affection hath ere this  
Distempered, yea and sometime overthrown  
A wiser and a staider head than his,  
As is to me by mine experience known,  
And that here in he did his duty miss,  
I must confess, the fault was part mine own,  
That gave to him such charge, and did not know  
How quickly flaming heat can kindle tow. 
Sentence.    

35  
Then to the caitive Odricke thus he spoke,  
Here I forgive thee, and do thee enlarge,  
But yet the penance I will have thee take, 
Odricks' punishment.   
Is this, to take this woman in thy charge,  
And swear to me thou shalt her not forsake,  
For one whole year, but this thine oath discharge,  
And that thou shalt if any would offend her,  
Do thy devoir, and unto death defend her.   

36  
This was the punishment on him he laid,  
And certainly this same had been cnow,  
If so the circumstance were duly weighed,  
And Odericke had right performed his vow.  
For why so many men she had betrayed,  
And done such sins even from her youth till now,  
That wheresoever they had together traveled,  
In her defence he must at last be gravelled.   

37  
Thus Zerbin let this wicked couple go,  
And thinks sufficiently to plague them both,  
But swears if ever he did hap to know,  
That he therein should violate his troth,  
His flesh should serve as feeding for the crow,  
A fit reward for such as break their oath.  
Thus went this honest couple thence together,  
Lurking in corners, wandering here and thither.   

38  
But what in th'end of these same two became,  
I know not, and mine author doth not write,  
I only heard a speech, or flying fame,  
That when they once were quite from Zerbius fight,  
Odricke (to shun the quarrels and the shame,  

Gabrinas' death.  That by her company on him might light)  
Did hang her up, and after in short space,  
Almonio made him run the self same race.   

39  
The Prince that feign some tidings would have heard  
Of that Earl Palladine, who other day,  
Fought hand to hand with lofty Mandricard,  
Until his rainlesse horse bore him away,  
Doth travel on his way to Paris ward,  
Though fair and soft, and lingering by the way,  
And his two servants he doth send before,  
And kept with him his Lady and no more.   

40  
They road not far but that they found the cave,  
And that same pleasant arbour and the spring,  
At which Medoro used such sport to have,  
With that fair daughter of the Indian king;  
Where she their names together did engrave,  
All tide with true love knots (a wondrous thing)  
They look, and see the stones, the words and letters  
All cut and mangled in a thousand fitters.   

41  
And as they musd hereon, they might espy  
Orlando's armour and his famous blade,  
Height Durindana on the ground to lie,  

Hector.  That sword that first for Hector had been made,  
They saw where Brigliador was feeding by  
Upon the grass amid the pleasant shade:  
This sight did make them both exceeding sad,  
Yet little did they deem that th'earl was mad.   

42  
Had they but seen one little drop of blood,  
They would have surely thought he had been stain,  
But while in this most careful doubt they stood,  
Behold there came a country silly swain,  
That with no little speed ran through the wood,  
And scaped the mad man's fury with great pain;  
He told them how a man bestraught of senses,  
Had done these outrages and great offences.   

43  
And further gave them perfect information,  
And told each circumstance at their request:  
Zerbino standeth still in admiration,  
And as the manner is, himself he blest,  
And with great grief of mind and lamentation,  
He takes the sword and armour, and the rest,  
And Isabella helpeth them to gather,  
And so they lay them on a heap together.   

44  
This while by hap came by fair Fiordeliege, 
Fiordeliege.   
Who (as I told before) with pensive hart,  
Went to seek out her loved Lord and Liege,  
I mean Orlando's friend, King Brandimart,  
Who leaving Paris in the woeful siege,  
To seek Orlando did from thence depart,  
Till Atlant to that cage him did entice,  
Which he had framed by magical device.   

45  
The which enchantment being now defeated, 
Astolfo de 〈◊〉 this enchantments Book 22.   
By good Astolfos value and his skill,  
And all the knights as I before repeated,  
At liberty to go which way they will,  
King Brandimart, though much in mind he fretted,  
To think how long in vain he had stood still,  
Back unto Paris ward his course he turned,  
Yet missing her, the way that he returned.   

46  
Thus (as I said) fair Fiordeliege by chance,  
Saw much of that which happed, and heard the rest,  
How that same worthy Palladine of France,  
With inward giefe of mind and thought oppressed,  
Or by some other great and strange mischance,  
Went like a man with some ill spirit possess,  
And she likewise inquiring of the peasant,  
Herd all the circumstance, a tale unpleasant.   

47  
Zerbino being far from any town,  
Hangs all Orlando's armour on a Pine,  
Like to a 
At the b●r●l of knights of ● order, or great persons, they 〈◊〉 up their arms with a sword a beadpeece.  Penon, and lest any clown  
Or peasant vile should take a thing so fine,  
He writeth upon the tree, Let none take down  
This armour of Orlando Palladine;  
As who should say, if any man attempt it,  
Orlando would ere long cause him repent it.   

48  
And having brought this worthy work to end,  
And ready now to take his journey hence,  
Fierce Mandricard happed thither to descend, 
Mandricard.   
And when he saw the tree, he asked of whence  
Those weapons were? which known, he doth intend  
To take away good Durindana thence,  
He steps unto the tree and takes the sword,  
Nor so content, he adds this spiteful word.   

49  
Ah fir (quoth he) this hap doth make me glad,  
My claim unto this sword is not unknown,  
And though before I no possession had,  
Yet now I lawfully seize on mine own:  
Alas poor foolo, and doth he feign him mad?  
And hath away his sword and armour thrown,  
Because he was not able to maintain it,  
And was afeard that I by force would gain it?   

50  
Zerbino crieth out, what? peace for shame,  
Take not his sword, or think not I will bear it,  
If by the coat of Hector so you came,  
You stale it, and unworthy are to wear it:  
Tush (quoth the Pagan) I will bear that blame,  
As for your threatening, do not think I fear it:  
Thus tones sharp answers, tother's sharp replying,  
Made them to fall to terms of flat defying.   

51  

The combat between Mandricard & Zerbino.  And either showing signs of plain hostility,  
Prepares the tother fiercely to invade,  
Zerbino with his skill and great agility,  
His party good against the Pagan made,  
And voided all the blows with much facility,  
Though having great disvantage in the blade,  
And in that armour massy so and strong,  
That in times passed to Hector did belong.   

52  
Look how a Grewnd that finds a sturdy Boar,  
Amid the field far straying from the heard,  
Doth run about, behind him and before,  
Because of his sharp tusks he is afeard:  
So Zerbin that had seen oft heretofore  
That blade, and of the force thereof had heard,  
With heedful eye to shun the blows he watched,  
Because he was in weapons overmatched.   

53  
Thus warily this worthy Prince did fight,  
And though by heedful skill he scaped oft  
The furious blows of this Tartarian knight,  
Yet lo, at last one blow came from aloft,  
And Durindan so heavy did alight,  
As pierced through the hard unto the soft,  
A finger deep, and went in length a span,  
down 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 breast amain,  
And of his curates all the former part  
With crimson stream of blood it did distain:  

〈◊〉  So have I seen her hand that to mine hart  
Hath been a cause of anguish and much pain,  
When she a purple seam or flower hath drawn,  
In silver kirtle, or in sleeve of lawn.   

55  
The wound was great, but yet did greater show,  
Which fight fair Isabella much amated,  
The Prince that seemed not the same to know,  
With force increased rather then abated,  
Upon the Pagan's brow gave such a blow,  
As would no doubt have made him checked & mated  
Save that (as I to you before rehearsed)  
His armour was not easy to be pierced.   

56  
The blow was such as caused him to reel,  
And on his stirrups stagg'ringly he stood,  
Had not his armour been of passing steel,  
The blow would sure have entered to the blood,  
The grievous pain that he thereof did feel,  
Did put him in so fierce a raging mood,  
So that for all Zerbinos skill and sleight,  
He wounded him in places seven or eight.   

57  
Which when his loving Isabella saw,  
She went to Doralice, and her doth pray,  
The fury of her husband to withdraw,  
And join with her to part the bloody fray,  
Who both because she was in fear and awe,  
Lest yet the Prince her spouse endanger may,  
And for of nature kind she was and meek,  
Of that good motion she doth not mislike.   

58  
Thus those two Ladies this fierce battle parted,  
In which the prince received many a wound,  
Though being (as he was) most valiant hearted,  
He never gave the Pagan inch of ground:  
From thence each couple presented departed,  
Fierce Mandricard to pagan camp was bound, 
He turns to Mandricard in this book, 76. staff.   
To Paris ward the Prince, but driven to stay,  
By reason of his bleeding by the way.   

59  
Dame Fiordeliege that stood this while aloof,  
And saw how Mandricard prevailed had,  
And how the Prince had fought with evil proof,  
Departed thence all sorrowful and sad,  
Reviling Mandricard with just reproof,  
That of this evil gotten sword was glad,  
And wished that her husband Brandimart,  
Had present been to take Zerbinos' part.   

60  
But as she traveled homeward to the camp,  
She saw the noble Palladine of France,  
Not like himself, but of another stamp,  
Besmeared and nakt as antics wont to dance:  
Quite was extinguished the shining lamp,  
Of virtue bright that did his name advance: 
He returns to Fiordeliege and Orlando both, in the 29 books, 44 ▪ staff.   
This fight in Fiodeliege much sorrow bred,  
But tell me now how good Zerbino sped.   

61  
Who on his way with painful steps proceeding,  
With Isabella only and no more,  
His former taken hurts still freshly bleeding,  
Which now with cold were stiff and waxed sore,  
And yet this grief in him the rest exceeding,  
To think that sword of which I spoke before,  
Should maugre him, be by a Turk poslest.  
I say this grieved him more than all the rest.   

62  
Now 'gan the dreadful pangs of death assail him,  
So great a stream of blood his wound had drained,  
His eyes were dim, his speech began to fail him,  
Strong hart to yield to weak limbs was constrained:  
What can poor Isabella do but wail him?  
She blamed the heavens and fates that had ordained  
Her to escape such dangers and such harms,  
And now to have her dear die in her arms.   

63  
Zerbino though he seant could draw his breath,  
Yet hearing her lamenting in such fashion,  
Doth open his closed lips, and thus he seath,  
Both showing then, and moving much compassion:  
So might I (my dear love) e'en after death,  
Be dear to thee as I do feel great passion,  
To think when as my death from hence shall reave me,  
Alone in woe and danger I shall leave thee.   

64  
Might I have left thee in some safer place,  
I should esteem my death a blessed hap,  
And that the hean'ns had given me special grace,  
To end my life in thy beloved lap,  
Now grieves it me to think of thine hard case,  
In what a world of woes I thee shall wrap,  
When I must die, and leave thee here alone,  
And none to help thy harm or hear thy moan.   

65  
To this the woeful Isabella replies,  
With watered eyes, and heart surprised with anguish,  
Her face to his, and joining her fair eyes  
To his that like a withered rose did languish,  
No thought (said she) my dear in thee arise  
For me, for know I neither do, nor can with  
Thee to survive, I will be thine for ever,  
Life could not, and death shall not us dissever.   

66  

Horace hath the like to this. Ah re, me si partemanima rapit. Maturier vis, quid mor●● alteral  No sooner shall thy breath thy breast forsake,  
But I will follow thee I care not whither,  
Grief or this sword of me an end shall make,  
And if some stranger after shall come hither,  
I hope of us such pity he will take,  
To lay our bodies in one ' grave together:  
This said, about his neck her arms she clasped,  
And draws the fainting breath that oft he gasped.   

67  
The Prince enforcing his forefeebled voice,  
Said thus, I thee conjure my sole delight,  
By that dear love that made me first thy choice,  
And thee from native soil to take thy flight,  
If ever in my love thou didst rejoice,  
If to command thee I have any right,  
That thou still live (as long as God shall grant thee)  
And not despair how ever fortune daunt thee.   

68  
Th'almighty God, from danger and from ill,  
Hath hitherto, and will (I trust) thee save;  
e'en as he sent that noble Earl to kill  
Those caitiffs' that did keep thee in their cave,  
And faued thee from the Biskins wicked will,  
First having thee preserved from salt sea wave,  
Live then my dear, and trust in him above,  
And while you live be mindful of my love.   

69  
These latter words his lips had scantly passed,  
When death unto his heart was softly crept;  

〈◊〉  And as the lamp goeth out when oil doth waste,  
So quietly the noble Zerbin slept:  
What tongue can tell how sore she was aghast,  
How she lamented, wailed, mourned and wept,  
To her own eyes and fair hair doing force,  
When as she saw her dear a senseless corpse?   

70  
And grief had set her in so great a rage,  
With Zerbins' sword she thinks an end to make  
Of her own life, her sorrow to assuage,  
Neglecting those last words Zerbino spoke,  
But lo, a certain saintlike parsonage,  
That sword from hand, that thought from hart doth take,  
A certain godly hermit and devout,  
That was by hap abiding thereabout,   

71  
Who came and said, oh damsel leave despair,  
Man's nature weak, and women's sex is frail,  
Fear him that rules both heaven, and earth, and air,  
Who saith the word, and his word cannot fail,  
That those that unto him for help repair,  
And put their trust in him, shall never quail:  
Then showed he her, to prove his saying true,  
Examples out of Scriptures old and new.   

72  
Of saintlike women that in time of old, 
Looks in the story of the 〈◊〉   
Their lives and prayer in chastity had spent;  
And further to the damsel fair he told,  
And proved and showed by reasons evident,  
That worldly things are vain and have no hold,  
Alone in God is joy and true content:  
In fine, he makes to her this godly motion,  
Her future life to spend in true devotion.   

73  
His godly speech by help of heavenly grace,  
Poured in her heart by high divine infusion,  
Wrought such effect, and found so great a place,  
She ceased to seek or work her own confusion,  
But leaving the profession of her race,  
Professed herself a Christian in conclusion;  
She gave herself to prayer and pure divinity, 
There is 〈◊〉 made 〈◊〉 marriage, therefore 〈◊〉 (being a 〈◊〉 though 〈◊〉 to her gra●●   
And vowed to God her life and her virginity.   

74  
Yet did she not remove out of her thought,  
The fervent love Zerbino had her borne,  
But by the hermits help the corpse she brought,  
And thinks it sin to leave it so forlorn,  
And in some village thereabout she bought  
Sweet balms to fill the flesh all cut and torn,  
Then in a Cypress coffin she doth close it,  
Not being yet resolved where to dispose it.   

75  
That aged fire, though being wise and stayed,  
Yet would not trust in his own stay so well,  
To carry such a fair and goodly maid  
To sojourn with him in his little cell,  
'twere peril great (thus to himself he said)  
That fire and straw should nigh together dwell,  
Wherefore he means to Province her to carry,  
And there to place her in a monastery.   

76  
But as he thitherward with Isbell went, 
He 〈◊〉 bell in the 〈◊〉 book. 90 〈◊〉   
And by the way devoutly did her teach,  
All things unto religion pertinent,  
And of the same most learnedly did preach,  
Behold a Pagan fierce with soul intent,  
This purpose and their journey doth impeach,  
As I shall show more largely afterward:  
Now back I must return to Mandricard.   

77  
Who having ended that same cruel fight,  
In which the worthist Prince alive was slain,  
Soon after by a shady bank did light,  
And turned his horse a grazing on the plain,  
Dame Doralice in whom he took delight,  
Alone with him in that place did remain,  
When looking suddenly by chance aside,  
An armed knight come toward them she spied.   

78  
She guest, but yet she knew not by the view,  
Who it might be, until she spied her page,  
That came with him, then certainly she knew,  
'twas Rodomont, full of revenge and rage,  
Wherefore unto her knight she nearer drew,  
And said (my Lord) mine honour I dare gage,  
That yond is Rodomont mine ancient lover,  
Who thinks by fight from you me to recover.   

79  
Look how the Falcon in the air doth mount,  
When she espies a Bittor or a Herne,  
So when this Prince espied Rodomount,  
And by his haste his fury did discern,  
Like one that made of conquest full account,  
He starteth up with visage grim and stern:  
Strait armed, and horsed he is, his foe to meet,  
In hand the reins, in sterops are his feet.   

80  
When as the tone the tother came so near,  
As each might hearken what the tother sed,  
Fierce Rodomont spoke loud as he might hear,  
With threatening gesture, both of hand and head:  
And said, be sure I'll make thee buy it dear,  
That with a short vain pleasure hast been led,  
To do to one so foul and open wrong,  
That can and will it wreak on thee ere long.   

81  
The Tartar Prince that for him little cared,  
Made answer thus, in vain you me do threat,  
Poor boys with words, or women may be scared,  
Not I that fight as willingly as eat,  
Prove when you please I am not unprepared,  
At any time for any warlike feat,  
On horse, on foot, in field, or in the list,  
I shallbe ready, try me when you list.   

82  
Thus words bred wrath, and wrath engendered blows,  
And blows increased their sharp avenging will,  
e'en as the wind that first but calmly blows,  
But after more and more increasing still,  
At last it trees and houses overthrows,  
And seas and lands with tempest it doth fill:  
So cruel grew the fight them two between,  
Whose match might hardly in the world be seen.   

83  
Their hearts were stout, so were their bodies strong,  
Desire to win, in both a like was great,  
One doth maintain, other would venge his wrong,  
And love their fury equally doth whet,  
In equal poise the fight endured long,  
Nor each of other any gain could get,  
But each of them so firmly kept his ground,  
As if each inch thereof had cost a pound.   

84  
Among an hundred blows the Tartar smit,  
Of which small hurt to Rodomont did rise,  
Yet one at last so heavily did hit,  
Upon his helmet, over both his eyes;  

● phrase to 〈◊〉 fire out of e●es and to 〈…〉 see 〈◊〉 a● noon.  His senses all were so amazed with it;  
He thought he saw more stars than are in skies,  
And almost down he was e'en in her fight,  
For whom he first began this cruel fight.   

85  
But as a strong and justly tempered bow, 
Simile.   
Of Pymount steel, the more you do it bend,  
Upon recoil doth give the bigger blow,  
And doth with greater force the quarrel send,  
e'en so the Sarzan king that stooped so low,  
As highly to revenge it doth intend,  
And to acquit himself of this disgrace,  
He striketh at the Tartar Prince's face.   

86  
So fierce he strake, in this so furious mood,  
An inch or little more above his fight,  
That save those arms of Hector were so good, 
Another phrase to strike one to make him think it night, as the Spaniard that had but one eye, having the tother strike ●n 〈◊〉 at tennis, said Buenas Noches.   
No doubt that blow had finished all the fight,  
But so aston'd therewith the Tartar stood,  
He could not tell if it were noon or night:  
And while in this amazement he abode,  
The tother ceaseth not to lay on load.   

87  
The Tartars horse that saw the glittering blade,  
That Rodomont about his head so tossed,  
Did start aside, and with a turn he made,  
Rescued his master, sore to his own cost,  
down with the blow falls this unlucky jade,  
And with his starting he his life hath lost:  
To ward his head he wanted Hector's shield,  
And therefore dead he tumbleth on the field.   

88  
Now came his master to himself again,  
Inflamed with greater anger than before,  
To see his horse so pitifully slain,  
But Rodomont forbears him near the more.  
But spurs on him, and thinks with fury main,  
To bear him down, but he so strongly bore  
The push, and thrust withal Frontino back,  
He made his master glad to leave his back.   

89  
Thus now with minds more aliened 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 have imbrued  
Fell rancour wrath and pride do still increase,  
And death of one or both must have ensued,  
Ere either of them would from thence have started,  
Had not a certain messenger them parted.   

90  
One that had traveled all about the cost,  
To seek them out, to ask their help and aid,  
To raise the siege, that by the Christian host,  
Unto the camp of Agramant was laid:  
Yet though he came in peace, and cake in post,  
To speak to them at first he was afraid,  
And though his office were sufficient warrant,  
Yet to themselves he dares not do his arrant.   

91  
But seeing Doralice, to her he told,  
How Agramant, Marsilio, Stordylan,  
And others more, like men penned up in hold,  
Were in great danger to be killed or ta'en,  
Wherefore he wisheth her for to unfold,  
Thus much to them, that sought each others bane:  
And to persuade them to so good accord,  
As they might go to help their sovereign Lord.   

92  
She that a woman was of passing spirit,  
And knew that neither of them would offend her,  
Stepped them between, and charged them stay the fight,  
As they their honour and her love did tender,  
And help their king, that is in woeful plight,  
And end this fray begun of cause so slender,  
At least defer so long to try this quarrel,  
Till Agramant their king were out of peril.   

93  
When she thus much to them declared had,  
Then doth the messenger declare the rest,  
And other strong persuasions he doth add,  
And doth expound to them their king's request,  
Alleging that their absence made him sad,  
That but they help, the camp would be distressed,  
And that if they to rescue him neglected,  
A present ruin were to be expected.   

94  
With his report and with her strong persuasion,  
The hardy knights the combat do defar,  
Till Agramant be freed from this invasion,  
And all the Christian forces moved are,  
Thus of this friendly truce she is occasion,  
That first was causer of their deadly war;  
To her they bind themselves by solemn oath,  
That until then, they will be quiet both.   

95  
There Discord was and Pride, and what they may,  
They do this league to interrupt and break,  
But at that time, Love bare so great a sway,  
That to withstand him, they were both to weak:  
In vain it was to argue and gainsay,  
When once dame Doralice the word did speak,  
By her persuasion, firmly they agreed.  
Like friends upon their journey to proceed.   

96  
One only want there was, that let them sore,  
Which was that Mandricardos' horse was ded,  
But lo e'en then, came thither Brygliadore,  
That since his master's madness there had fed,  
Full glad the Prince of Tartar was therefore,  
Of such a horse, so quickly to be sped:  
But lest my tale with tediousness molest you,  
I wish you lay aside the book and rest you.   

Moral.  In the great offence of Oderike, and the notable clemency of Zerbino in pardoning the same, we may note in the one the great frailty of men in offending (specially in this kind of fleshly concupiscene,) in the other a notable magnanimity as well as mercy in forgiving him: For that (indeed) is true clemency in a Prince, to forgive that offence that is committed against his private (as they call it) that is, against his own person, rather than that, which is done against the law, for that is rather partiality and injustice, than clemency. Secondly we may observe 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 Orlando's sword, in which conflict he receives his death's wound, and though indeed, all that is told of this couple, tendeth to a tragical end, yet is it withal set down by my author in a sort, to move so great compassion, that it seems all that read it are as it were in love with them, and lament their so unfortunate end; which hath made me say sometimes (in sport) to some of mine honourable friends, that if I could without wronging mine author, I would surely have sane their lives, or given them a more fortunate end: though (to say true) sith an end is of necessity due to all mankind, what more honourable death can a Prince have, then by a wound in fight, specially for a good quarrel? what more sweet death, then in her beloved arms whom he was betrothed to, and intended to marry? what more happy reward, than same and love 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. book, yet that notable title that is there given her (the martyr of chastity) makes her so famous, and her virtue so admirable, as she could never have wished a better end if she had lived as long as Hecuba. Wherefore if it be true that Ovid said of Cadmus, 
— Scilicet ultima semper,  
Expect and a dies homini, dicique beatus  
Anteobitum nemo, supremaque funera debet.  
In English thus,  
Our only dying day, and end doth show  
If that a man have happy been or no.  Then (I say) by the death of these two, though in show unfortunate yet in deed most glorious, they may be called happy. Lastly, for the end of this moral, we may take one special observation of great integrity in the religious man, that converted her to the faith, and yet afterward would not trust himself alone with her; for in the fleshly conflicts and temptations, the only way to conquer, is to play the coward and run away, and thus much for the moral.  

History.  The examples of the virtuous women that are praised by the hermit (though not named) in the 72. Staff of this book, are many, recited in the Scripture itself: as namely the blessed virgin Marie, Anne, and Magdalen, all which be took themselves most devoutly to the service of God, and therefore are worthy to be canonised for examples of chastity and zeal of religion.  

Allegory.  In the sudden parting of the fray between the two famous rivals, only upon the commandment of Doralice, with whom they were both exceedingly in love, thus allegorically is supposed to be meant that the strongest passions that are, as anger, and revenge, or what else soever, are often overmastered with love.  

Allusion.  The 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 unquam,  
Busta meae videam nee sim tumulandus ab illa.  
Here end the notes of the xxiv. book.   

  

THE XXV. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Rogero saveth (to his fame and glory)  
His spouses' brother, that had else been ded:  
Who doth recount to him the woeful story,  
That so great danger unto him had bred:  
His cousin cheers them, though himself were sorry,  
Next morn, they arm them all from foot to head,  
Good Malagige, and Vivian to relieve,  
Whose thraldom did their kinsmen greatly grieve.  

1  
THe strife is great that grows in youthful mind,  
When honour falls at variance with affection,  

Love and ambition two strong 〈◊〉  Nor could it yet be known or well defined,  
Which passion keeps the tother in subjection,  
For both allure, both do our judgements blind,  
And both corrupt the heart with strong infection:  

〈◊〉  Yet lo sometimes these hurts procure our weal,  
e'en as one poison doth another heal.   

2  
For here you see these princes that of late,  
strove fiercely tone the tother to subdue,  
Agreed to respite this their sharp debate,  
And to repair unto the Turkish crew,  
To succour Agramants distressed state,  
To whom th●y aught in duty to be true,  
And vet herein love claimeth half the praise,  
For she commanded them to go their ways.   

3  
And on they went without more disagreeing,  
Fair Doralice with these her servants twain,  
The tone in suit, one in possession being,  
And yet as then in concord they remain:  
At last they came unto a place, where seeing  
Four knights themselves did solace on a plain,  
(Or which two were unarmed, two armour bare)  
With them a Lady was of beauty rare.   

4  

He cometh to 〈◊〉 a ●aine in be 16. book.  With these a while they stayed, but who these wear,  
And what they did, and whither then they went,  
A little while to tell I do forbear,  
For to Rogero now my tale is meant,  
Who would no more the shield enchanted bear,  
But in the well did drown it, with intent  
That men might know his valiant deeds of arms  
Were done by force of virtue, not of charms.   

5  
He scant had gone a mile or little more,  
From this same well, but that he met a post  
From Agramant, of which there went good store,  
The Captains to recall unto the host,  
He told him how the king (besieged sore,  
And like if succour come not to be lost)  
Commanded him as his true Lord and liege,  
To come without delay to raise the siege.   

6  
Much was Rogero with the message moved,  
And divers passions strove within his mind,  
He feign would have his Prince's siege removed,  
Yet loath he was to leave his love behind;  
But be his doing praised or reproved,  
He was so to the present cause inclined,  
First with his guide he goes to stay the slaughter,  
Of him that had deflowrd Marsilios' daughter.   

7  
They came unto the place an hour er night,  
Where this same execution should be done,  
A castle that belonged to Charles of right,  
But late the Spanish king the same had won,  
And kept it in the mids of France by might,  
By countenance of the great Trainos' son:  
Rogero cometh in, and none denied him,  
Because they knew the damsel that did guide him.   

8  
There first he saw prepared a flaming fire,  
In which they meant to burn the woeful youth,  
He thought so small a sin did not require  
Such punishment, no more it doth in truth:  

〈◊〉 was Fuchar●●, to, Brada●ats ●●her, but ev●● like Brabant 〈…〉 You look in 〈◊〉  But when he marked his face and his attire,  
And heard and saw the manner of his ruth,  
Now sure I know (quoth he) I am not I,  
Or this is Bradamant that here should die.   

9  
'tis certain she, I see which way it went,  
Belike while I at yonder castle stayed,  
She hither came afore me, with intent  
To bring unto the prisoner here some aid,  
For which (poor soul) herself should now be shent,  
Yet I am glad and very well paid,  
That I am hither come in so good season,  
To save her that should die against all reason.   

10  
And even with that, most furiously he files  
With naked sword upon the gazing rout,  
Who over standeth in his way, he dies,  
With so great force he hurls his blade about:  
Then strait the prisoners fetters he unties,  
Nor was there one so hardy or so stout,  
That once durst make resistance or forbid it,  
No not so much as ask him why he did it.   

11  
As fearful fowl that in the sunshine bright,  
Sat pruning of themselves upon a bank,  
When as a Falcon doth among them light,  
Fly without care of order or of rank:  
So when these caitiffs' saw this noble Knight,  
Forthwith they from his manly presence shrank,  
So did their fearful hearts and courage fail them,  
When as they felt Rogero once assail them.   

12  
No marvel though, for why Rogeros' force  
Was not as men's that now born later are,  
The strength of Lion, Bear, or bull or horse,  
Were nothing, if with his they do compare,  
And chief sith now he doth himself enforce,  
To do as much as he or can or dare,  
Hereby from danger thinking to recover,  
Her unto whom he was professed lover.   

13  

Here you may begin the tale Furdispina.  Now when the youth from danger quite was freed,  
And all that sought his death away were fled,  
He thanks the author of this worthy deed,  
And thanketh her that had him thither led  
Then, when of help he stood in greatest need,  
When otherwise he doubtless had been dead,  
And executed like a malefactor,  
Agnizing him his Lord and benefactor.   

14  
And furthermore he doth Rogero pray,  
To let him understand his name and nation;  
Rogero musing to himself doth say,  
What meaneth this so strange congratulation?  
In face, in shape, in gesture, in array,  
This is my love, I see no alteration,  
Yet strange it is her voice should be so changed,  
More strange that she from me is so estranged.   

15  
It doubtless is not she, for if it were,  
Could she within three hours my name forget?  
Wherefore to tell his name he doth forbear,  
Until he may more perfect notice get:  
And thus he said, I have I know not where,  
Seen you ere this, and I bethink me yet  
Where it might be, for sure I know your face,  
Though now I have forgot the time and place.   

16  
Most noble sir (said other) I agree,  
You may have seen me, though I know not when,  
I rather judge it should my sister be,  
That fights and carries arms as well as men:  
My mother at one birth bore her and me,  
And we be both so like, that now and then  
Our servants, yea our father and our mother  
Have ta'en us in exchange the tone for tother.   

17  
Chiefly since in her head she had a wound,  
For which she was constrained to cut her hair,  
'twere long the circumstances to expound,  
How she was hurt and healed, by whom and where;  
Since that between us difference none is found,  
Save sex and names that from our birth we bear,  
She Bradamant, I Richardet am called,  
She sister, and I brother to Ronald.   

18  
And further if you please, I shall you tell,  
As we do onward on our journey go,  
A strange mishap that unto me befell,  
By being ta'en for her not long ago;  
A hap that at the first I liked well,  
But after wrought my danger great and woe:  
Yes with good will, Rogero said, and than  
Young Richardet to thus his tale began.   

19  
It happened (as in part I touched before)  
My valiant sister passing through a wood,  
Was hurt with certain Saracens so sore,  
As had her cost almost her vital blood,  
Which wound to cure, her tresses short she wore,  
For so as then her surgeon thought it good;  
The wound once cured for which her head was bold  
Abroad to go again she waxed bold.   

20  
And having traveled till the heat of day,  
All clad in armour, as her manner was,  
At noon she took occasion to make stay,  
Fast by a watery stream as clear as glass,  
And putting off her helmet, down she lay,  
Upon a pleasant bank well clothed with grass,  
And steep at last her heavy eyes did close,  
The place inviting her to take repose.   

21  
Now while she did there fast asleep remain,  
There happened to arrive unto that place,  
The daughter of Marsilio king of Spain,  
That there by chance was hunting in the chase,  
And seeing signs of manhood very plain,  
With that her sweet and amiable face,  
As horse, and sword, and target all of steel,  
A little amorous passion she doth feele.   

22  
And taking then my sister for a man,  
As by all circumstances well she might,  
She offers her all curtsy that she can,  
And asked her if in hunting she delight;  
And then to choose a standing they began,  
And finding one far off from others sight,  
She opened more plainly that affection,  
That had her heart already in subjection.   

23  
And save her maiden modesty forbade,  
She would the same in words have plainly told,  
Howb'it with sighs, with rueful looks and sad,  
And silent signs she doth her grief unfold:  
And when she thus long time discoursed had,  
Surpried with hope, she could no longer hold,  
But steps unto her, and gives her such a kiss,  
As that alone shows what her meaning is.   

24  
My sister at the first doth think it strange,  
That such a suit should unto her be made,  
And finding she had ta'en her in exchange,  
She thinks it best (before she further wade,  
Or let the tother's humour further range)  
Tell troth, for thus she doth herself persuade,  

Of this look ●● the moral of the book.  'tis better to be known a Lady gentle,  
Then to be deemed a base man and ungentle.   

25  
For what could be more cullen-like or base?  
Or fitter for a man were made of straw,  
Then standing in a fair young Lady's grace,  
To show himself a cuckoo or a daw,  
And lose occasion both of time and place?  
My sister therefore that this ill foresaw,  
And knew she wanted that, that her should aid,  
Told her by circumstance she was a maid.   

26  
And thus she told her how the worthy same,  
Hippolita and stout Camilla won,  
In deeds of arms, moved her her mind to frame,  
To do the like while others sowed and spun:  
And that she thought it to her sex no shame,  
To do as women of such worth had done;  
She told her this, in hope this would appease her,  
But this alas did so much more disease her.   

27  
For why the fancy was so firmly fixed,  
That in her mind she had before conceived,  
By means of speech had passed them betwixt,  
That sore it grieved her to be thus deceived,  
Before her fear with some good hope was mixed,  
But now e'en hope itself was her bereaved:  
And this is one extremest point of grief,  

Sentence  Still to despair and hope for no relief.   

28  
He that had heard her woeful plaint and moan,  
Must needs have greatly at the same been grieved,  
Ah woe is me (she said) that I alone  
Should live in such despair to be relieved:  
In passed times I think there hath been none,  
In time to come it will not be believed,  
That love should make by such a strong infection,  
One woman bear another such affection.   

29  
O Cupid, if thou didst my state ennis, 
Look in the 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉   
And that thou hadst a mind me to torment,  
To send such pains as others more do try,  
At least me think thou shouldst have been content:  
Shall in so many ages none but I,  
Yield of so uncouth love such precedent?  
The female with the female doth not wish  
To couple, nor in beast, nor foul, nor fish.   

30  
I sole am found in earth, air, sea, or fire,  
In whom to strange a wonder thou haft done,  
On me thou showst the power of thine ire,  
And what a mighty conquest thou hast won.  
The wife of Nynus had a strange desire, 
Look in the story of the 〈◊〉   
To join in copulation with her son;  
Fair Myrrah by her fire was made a mother,  
And made Adonis both her son and brother.   

31  
Pasyphae, except it be a tale,  
Was buld, enclosed in a wooden cow;  
Yet in all these the female sought the male,  
But nature doth my fancy disallow;  
No Dedalus could remedy my bale,  
Nor art can frame, nor sense imagine how,  
This knot dame nature hath so firmly knit,  
It cannot be dissolved by any wit.   

32  
This Fiordispina fair (so was her name)  
In piteous sort her woeful state doth wail,  
My sister unto her, her speech doth frame,  
As chiefly to her comfort might avail:  
And wished her this unbridled will to tame,  
Sith nature could not suffer it prevail,  
And that she would let that desire be daunted,  
Which possibly by no means could be granted.   

33  
All this but all in vain my sister said,  
To seek that fancy from her mind to wrists;  
She that for comfort cared not, but for aid,  
Doth more and more herself vex and molest:  
Now night grew on as they together stayed,  
What time all creatures seek repose and rest,  
The Lady prays my sister for her sake,  
A lodging at her castle then to take.   

34  
To this request doth Bradamant assent,  
And so together to that place they came,  
Where I (but that you did my harm prevent) 
That place was Marsilies catch where Richerdet should 〈◊〉 been burned   
Should have been cast into the burning flame:  
She that all kindness to my sister meant,  
By many outward curtsies showed the same:  
And caused her to wear a woman's weed,  
That men might know that she was one indeed.   

35  
For why the semblance false she saw before,  
Of manly shape to her was so pernicious,  
She would now see her in those weeds no more,  
The rather eke left folk should be suspicious,  
(If she had been ashewd the weed she wore)  
Left that they two did live together vicious:  
She further was by physic rules assured,  
That contraries by contraries are cured.   

36  
But nought could salve that fore, nor suage her woes,  
That night they lay together in one bed,  
But sundry and unlike was their repole,  
One quiet slept, the tother's troubled h●d  
Still waking, or if she her eyes but close,  
That little sleep strange dreams and fancies bred:  
She thought the gods and heaven would so assist her,  
Into a better sex to change my sister.   

37  

〈◊〉  As men tormented with a burning fever,  
Do dream with drink they suage their grievous thirst,  
But when they wake, they feel their thirst persever,  
And to be greater than it was at first;  
So she whose thoughts from love, sleep could not sever,  
Did dream of that, for which she wake did thirst,  
But waking felt and found it as before,  
Her hope still less, and her desire still more.   

38  
How fervently did she to Macon pray?  
What vows did she unto her prayer anuex?  
If so by mighty miracle he may,  
Her bedfellow turn to a better sex?  
Now near approached the dawning of the day,  
When she in vain herself doth grieve and vex:  
And so much more her passion grew the stronger,  
Because my sister now would stay no longer.   

39  
When Fiordispina saw she would be gone,  
She caused a gallant jennet to be brought,  
All richly barbd, and furniture thereon,  
Which with her own hand partly she had wrought,  
This frankly she bestoweth her upon,  
My sister takes it kindly, as she ought,  
And takes her leave, and on her way doth get,  
And home she came that night ere Sun was set.   

40  
We that long time of her had heard no tiding,  
I mean her mother, brothers, and her kin,  
Do welcome her, and ask of her abiding,  
Why she so long from us had absent been?  
Who strait from us the troth of nothing hiding,  
Doth tell us how great danger she was in;  
And opened from the ending to beginning,  
The course of all her losing and her winning.   

41  
As namely first how hardly she had sped,  
And in a conflict had received a wound,  
For which she was constrained to pole her head,  
Before her health she could recover found;  
She told how fortune afterwards her led,  
Where that fair huntress had her sleeping found;  
She told us how the Lady did her woe,  
And all the circumstance that longed thereto.   

42  
To hear this story I was passing glad,  
For why at Saragoza I had seen  
This Fiordispina, and some knowledge had  
Of her likewise when she in France had been,  
And liked her well, yet was I not so mad,  
In vain to set my love on such a Queen:  
But now again I gave that fancy scope,  
When by this tale I had conceived some hope.   

43  
Love was my counsellor that me advised,  
My meaning secret I to none impart,  
This was the stratagem that we devised,  
This was the plot, the cunning, and the art,  
To go in Bradamantas' clothes disguised,  
And for a while to play the woman's part:  
I knew my face my sisters so resembling,  
Would be the better help for my dissembling.   

44  
The day ensuing ere it yet was light,  
I took my way, my love and fancy guiding,  
I there arrived an hour before 'twas night,  
Such hap I had, such hast I made in riding:  
No sooner came I in the servants sight,  
But well was he of me could carry tiding:  
They look (as Princes oft to give do use)  
Some recompense for bringing so good news.   

45  
Strait out she came, and met me half the way,  
And took me fast about the neck and kissed me,  
And told me how in this my little stay,  
In anguish great and sorrow she had missed me,  
Than she did cause me alter mine array,  
In which with her own hands she doth assist me;  
A cawl of gold she set upon my crown,  
And put on me a rich and stately gown.   

46  
And for my part to help the matter, I  
Did take great heed to all I did or said,  
With sober cast I carried still mine eye,  
And bore my hands before me like a maid:  
My voice did serve me worst, but yet thereby  
Such heed I used, my sex was not bewrayed:  
And thus arrayed, my Princess led me with her,  
Where many Knights and Ladies were together.   

47  
My look and clothes did all them so beguile,  
They all had thought I had a woman been,  
And honour such was done to me that while,  
As if I were a Duchess or a Queen:  
And (that which made me oftentime to smile)  
Some youths there were of years & judgement green  
That cast upon me many a wanton look,  
My sex and quality they so mistook.   

48  
At last came meat, both store of flesh and fish,  
What kinds of both to tell I overslip,  
I maidenly razed here and there a dislr,  
And in the wine I scant do wet my lip,  
The time seemed long that stayed my wanton wish,  
And still I doubted taking in some trip;  
When bed time came, she told me I must be  
Her bedfellow, the which well pleased me.   

49  
Now when the maids and pages all were gone,  
One only lamp upon the cupboard burning,  
And all costs clear, thus I began anon:  
Fair dame I think you muse of my returning,  
And cause you have indeed to muse thereon,  
For yesterday when I did leave you mourning,  
I think both you and I did think as then,  
We should not meet again till God knows when.   

50  
First let me tell you why from you I went,  
Then why I come, hereafter I shall show:  
Dear Lady (thus it was) I did lament  
Your fruitless love on me was placed so,  
And though I could have ay been well content,  
To wait on you, and never part you fro,  
Yet since my presence did but make you languish,  
I thought mine absence minish would your anguish.   

51  
But riding on my way, I somewhat strayed,  

〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉  As fortune and adventure did me guide,  
And so I heard a voice that cried for aid,  
Within a thicket by the river side:  
A satire taken had a naked maid,  
And with a twisted cord her hands had tie,  
And in his usage seemed so to threaten her,  
As if he would have killed her strait and eaten her.   

52  
I rushed to them with naked sword in hand,  
And death to him, and freedom I did give her,  
She diving under water out of hand,  
Vnrecompenst thou shalt not me deliver,  
Quoth she, for I will have you understand,  
I am a Numph that dwell here in this river;  
And for this curtsy I do much regard you,  
And am well able richly to reward you.   

53  
Ask of me what you list, and I will give it,  
For I upon the elements have power;  
I can with charms bring down the Moon, believe it,  
I can suage storms, and make fair weather lower,  
What is so hard, but my skill can achieve it?  
To drain the sea, or build in air a tower?  
Yea cu'n with simple words (and if I will)  
I can enforce and make the Sun stand still.   

54  
When as the Nymph had made me this great offer,  
(Lo Lady what great love to you I bore)  
I neither asked with gold to fill my coffer,  
Nor victory, of which some greedy are,  
This favour only I demanded of her,  
To make me able to assuage your care:  
Nor named I any means for fear of erring,  
The only way and means to her referring.   

55  
No sooner this request to her I told,  
But in the christ all stream again he dived,  
And sprinkled me with drops of water cold,  
Which to my skin so sooner were arrived,  
But I was changed from that I was of old,  
And of my former state I was deprived;  
I felt, I saw, yet seant believe I can,  
That of a woman I was made a man.   

56  
And saving that e'en now I am so nigh you,  
As you may quickly prove my tale not feigned,  
Else you might think I said it but to try you:  
Now so, since I for you this wish obtained,  
Ask what you please, I nothing shall deny you,  
Enjoy that which my love for you hath gained:  
When I had pleaded thus, and she had heard it,  
On sight of evidence she gave her vardit.   

57  
As one whose state is overwhelmd with debt, 
Simile.   
By lending or by spending out of measure,  
That looks each hour when prouling shreeus will set  
Himself toward, and of his goods make seizure,  
If some unlooked for gain he hap to get,  
By some man's death, or by some trovie treasure,  
Is so surprised with joy, he scant doth know,  
If true it be, or if he dreamt so.   

58  
So she that now did see, and feel, and touch,  
That which she long had longed for in vain,  
It overfild her mind with joy so much,  
It seemed in a trance she did remain;  
Therein her incredulity was such,  
As to resolve her I did take much pain:  
If these be dreams (quoth she) for these dreams sake  
I ever wish to dream and never wake.   

59  
Not sound of drum, of trumpet, or of phife,  
Nor warlike instrument of any sort,  
Did sound alarm to our friendly strife,  
But dovelike billing followed lovely sport,  
This battle hazards neither limb nor life,  
Without a ladder I did seal the fort,  
And stoutly plant my standard on the wall,  
And under me I made my so to fall.   

60  
If that same bed were full the night before  
Of tears, of plaints, of anguish and annoys,  
No doubt but now it had in as great store,  
Both smile, sports, and solaces and joys:  
No ivy doth embrace the pillar more,  
Then she did me, nor Apes can find more toys,  
Then we young fools did find to make us merry,  
Till joy itself of joy did make us weary.   

61  
The thing twixt us did secret long remain,  
And certain months this pleasure did endure,  
Till some had found, and told it to my pain,  
As you well know that did my life assure:  
Yet I confess great grief I still sustain,  
Not knowing how her safety to procure.  
This Richardetto to ‛ Rogero told, 
The end of 〈◊〉 ●ale of F●●dispina.   
And all the while their journey on they hold.   

62  
By that time Richardettos tale was done,  
They 'gan up to a little hill to mount,  
And when an hour and more was set the Sun,  
They came unto the castle Agrismount,  
Kept then by Aldiger the bastard son  
Of Bovo, 
Aldiger  of the house of Clarimount,  
A wise and sober man and of good quality,  
And bountiful in keeping hospitality.   

63  
And after he had bid them welcome both,  
One as his kinsman, other as his friend,  
I hear ill news (quoth he) that I am loath  
To tell to you, lest it should you offend:  
But thus it is, to let you know the troth, 
Bertolage of 〈◊〉 house of Magaza.   
I hear that Bertolage doth sure intend  
To buy the prisoners that Ferraw hath ta'en, 
Malagigi and Vimea.   
As namely Malagige and Viviane.   

64  
Lanfusa taketh upon her to sell them,  
And as I hear tomorrow is the day,  
Unto your brothers I sent one to tell them,  
But they be absent hence so far away,  
As ere they come, from hence they may expel them,  
I am too weak to force, too poor to pay,  

〈◊〉  My love is great, to wish all good unto them.  
But power so small, as good I can none do them.   

65  
Young Richardetto much misliked the news,  
So did Rogero for the tother's sake,  
And when he saw they both were in a muse,  
Nor knew what counsel, or what course to take,  
No fear (quoth he) let me this matter use,  
On me this enterprise I'll undertake,  
So I shall handle this affair so handsome,  
This sword alone shall pay your kinsman's ransom.   

66  
This spoke Rogero his companions cheering,  
But notwithstanding Aldiger, his host,  
Gave to those lofty promises such hearing,  

Proverbs.  As if there were great boast and little roast:  
Which unto Richardetto plain appearing,  
Who knew his value, greater than his boast:  
Good cozen if you knew him well that said it,  
You would said he unto his word give credit.   

67  
Then Aldiger on better information,  
Gave care and credit to his noble guest,  
And made him cheer to suit his reputation,  
And placed him at the board above the rest:  
And supper done, he was in seemly fashion,  
In chamber lodged, of all the house the best,  
The master of the house in nothing scant,  
His worthy guest will suffer nothing want.   

68  
Now was the time when all men foundest sleep,  
Rogero only cannot sleep a wink,  
For cares and thoughts that him do waking keep,  
And in his troubled brain profoundly sink;  
The siege of Agramant doth pierce him deep,  
And what dishonour men of him may think,  
And deem his heart but faint, his faith but fickle,  
To leave his sovereign inso woful pickle.   

69  
Had he revolted at some other time,  
Men might have thought that true religion moved him,  
None could have it imputed as a crime,  
Nor no man probably could have reproved him:  
Now, when his master's fortune did decline,  
And when to aid him chiefest it behooved him,  
Fear, men will think, his change procured chief,  
Nor just remorse, nor zeal of true belief.   

70  
This troubled him, and little less than this,  
It troubled him, to think of his dear hart,  
Whom now by evil fortune he doth miss,  
Nor cannot once salute ere he depart;  
Wherefore to write to her his purpose is,  
And so to her at large his mind impart,  
Both that of him she may have certain news,  
As that he may his sudden going excuse.   

71  
The chamberlains both prudent and discreet,  
Upon Rogero quick attendance gave,  
Providing him of needful things and meet,  
Ink, paper, light, and what he else would crave:  
Then (as the manner is) he doth her greet, 
Rogeros' letter to Bradamant.   
Upon the front, as letters use to have;  
Thus after very hearty commendations,  
Or some such phrase of friendly salutations.   

72  
Then tells he her how that the Turkish Prince,  
Had for his aid, by special message sent,  
Who is besieged, and hath been long time since;  
And how to rescue him is his intent:  
Lest men of cowardice might him convince,  
That he away in time of danger went:  
And now would leave his lawful Lord and liege,  
Then when his enemies did him besiege.   

73  
He prayeth her to weigh, how foul a deed,  
How full it were of infamy and shame,  
To yield his Prince no aid in such a need,  
That sent to him of purpose for the same:  
He wished her for her own sake to take heed,  
That no such stain might spot her spouses' name,  
That being she, so true and so sincere,  
She should no blemish in her husband and bear.   

74  
He further doth his zeal to her protest,  
As erst he had in word so now in writing,  
And swears that when his Prince were undistrest,  
The siege quite raised, by concord or by fight,  
That foolish people might not make a jest,  
To his reproach, that common speech reciting,  
Rogero loves to take the lurer side, 
Proverb.   
And turns his sails, as fortune turns her tide.   

75  
I shall (he writes) when that time doth expire,  
Which in a month I hope will be effected;  
Find some occasion from them to retire,  
And of no breach of honour be suspected.  
Then shall I full accomplish your desire,  
And do, as I by you shallbe directed:  
This only for my honour I demand thee,  
And after this thou ever shalt command me.   

76  
These things, and like to these Rogero wrote,  
As then by hap came in his troubled head,  
To certify his love of his estate,  
And of the cause that his departure bred:  
By that time he had done, it was full late,  
And then again he got him to his bed,  
And closed his eyes, when he had closed the letter,  
And after took his ease a great deal better.   

77  
Next day they all arose at break of day,  
With mind to go to set their kinsmen free,  
And though Rogero earnestly did pray,  
That none might take that enterprise but he,  
Yet both the other stiffly said him nay,  
And there unto by no means would agree,  
Unto the place assigned they ride together,  
And by the time appointed they came thither.   

78  
The place they came to was a goodly plain,  
In which no tree nor bush was to be seen,  
Here Bertolage did point to take them twain,  
As was agreed Lanfuse and him between,  
But first they met, while here they did remain,  
One that a Phoenix bare in field all green,  
With armour fair embossed, and guilt with gold,  
As in the book that follows shall be told.   
In this xxv book, 
Moral.  in Rogeros' valiant proceeding for the delivery of Richardetto (though as than not known to him what he was) may be noted a wonderful courage and promptness to honourable exploits: In the great likeness of face of Bradamant and Richardetto (though this be but a fiction) yet we may observe the rare, and (as it were) cunning workmanship of nature; admirable, as well in making so many sundry countenances, one unlike another: as also sometimes in making some so exceeding like, which indeed though it seldomer fortunes, and sooner altars in brother and sister; yet in two brothers, it is seen many times, and therefore not improbable to be written, as it is here for the forenamed couple. I have heard in England of the two Tremaines not many years past: I have known myself two of the Wraths in Eaton school, and lately in her majesties court two Tracies, two proper and valiant young Gentlemen; whom myself being familiarly acquainted with, yet I could very hardly know one from the other. But to come to the tale of Richardetto and Fiordispina, (which name signifieth as much as the flower of thorn, and not unapt for her prickling condition) I must confess my author showeth in the tale, rather pleasant wit, than any sober gravity, and the best I can say is this, that it is a bad matter not very ill handled. But as I undertook in the beginning to make special note of all she good matters by which the honest reader might take profit, so I think it as convenient, where any light and lascivious matter falls (as this is surely one) to temper it in such sort, or at least to salve it so, as it may do least hurt. Namely, I would not have that xxv. staff by misapplying it, made worse: being perhaps bad enough at the best. 
For what can be more cullen like and base,  
And fitter for a man were made of straw,  
Then standing in a gallant Lady's grace,  
To show himself a cockow or a daw,  
Losing occasion both of time and place? etc.  This taken, as many will take it, may seem but lewd doctrine, but thus it ought and may be honestly taken, that he that in good honourable sort (as put the case in the way of marriage) may obtain the love of some worthy Lady, and stands in her high savour, and then will be so bashful, either for want of wit or heart, to lose that opportunity, he may be in good reason endued with those gentle titles; nevertheless to understand it generally were ungodly, considering the Scripture commendeth to us the example of joseph, that refused his mistress kindness. But to conclude the moral of this tale, we may note how full of doubts and fears these unlawful pleasures are, how soever some men like better, to hunt by stealth in another man's walk, then to have the fairest course that may be at game of their own.  
The examples that Fiordispina recites of other women's unlawful lusts, 
History.  preferring them before her own, for their possibility (she being unpossible) are confirmed by divers authors, as of Nynus wife Semiramis, that lusted after a horse: Nynos wise after a bull, and other such tales, though I think untrue, or rather cullerd by such names: as in that of Pasiphae, it is thought she loved one that was called Taurus (to say a bull) and thereupon the light headed Poets, that have a privilege as free for the pen, as painters have for the pencil, make a great wonder of it, whereas perhaps indeed it was but even an ordinary matter, that is daily (or at least nightly) committed, by many in these times.  
Thus tale of Fiordispina alludes to that in the ninth of the Metamorphosis of Iphis, 
Allusion.  and the complaint she makes is much taken from thence, and is wonderful finely written by Ovid, as you may read there more at large.  
Vix\`quetenens lachrimas; quis me manet exitus inquit,  
Cognita quam nulli, quam prodigiosa novaeque,  
Cura tenet Veneris? si dij mihi parcere vellent,  
Perdere debuerant: si non & perdere vellent,  
Naturale malum saltem, & de more dedissent,  
Nec vaccam vaccae, etc.  
Here end the notes of the xxv. book.   

  

THE XXVI. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
The learned Malagige strange riddles shows,  
To his companions out of Merlin's well:  
With Mandricard the Sarzan thither goes,  
And each took quarrels new, as there befell:  
For Discord seed of strife among them sows,  
But Doralices horse, by fiend of hell  
Affrighted, doth his mistress bear away,  
Which caused the Pagans both break off the fray.  

1  
RIght worthy dames there were in times of old,  
That more esteemed of virtue then of wealth,  
But now our iron age is all for gold,  
For bad, and worse, in sickness and in health,  
But she that will that elder custom hold,  
And leave this new, deserves where ere she dwelleth,  
Here in this life to have a happy choice,  
And in the next for ever to rejoice.   

2  
Such was the noble Bradamantas' mind,  
Who sought not after wealth and rich ability,  
Nor state, nor pomp, that many women blind,  
But after virtue pure, the true nobility:  
And well deserved he to find her kind,  
That showed in him such proofs of high gentility,  
And took upon him actions for her sake,  
Which time to come for miracles may take.   

3  
Rogero (as before I did recite)  
With Aldiger and Richardetto came,  
To rescue those two prisoners (if they might)  
That should be sold with great reproach and shame.  
I told you how they met a gallant knight,  

〈◊〉.  Whose shield had painted that same bird of fame,  
That still renews itself, and never dien  
And only one, in all the world there flie●.   

4  
Now when this knight was of these three aware,  
That stood like men new placed in battle ray,  
He comes to them, and seeing what they are,  
Will there (quoth he) some one of you assay,  
If so his value can with mine compare,  
With staff, with sword, or any any other way?  
If any will, come then, and let us try it,  
If none, then say so quickly, and deny it.   

5  
Sir answered Aldiger, I were content,  
To try myself with you, about or two,  
But we three came not here for this intents  
We come, a greater feat than this to do,  
And at this time, a little time misspent,  
May hinder us, and little pleasure you,  
We three intent (if God do say Amen)  
Two take two prisoners from six hundred men.   

6  
Sure (said that other) if you mind indeed,  
So great an enterprise to take in hand,  
No doubt it doth of valiant mind proceed,  
And pittiet ' were, your purpose to withstand:  
I rather shall assist you in this deed,  
If you vouch safe to make me of your band,  
And by my service I will quickly show,  
Good proof if I deserve such grace or no.   

7  
Perhaps that some would know, and if they may,  
What valiant knight this was that did entreat,  
To take Rogeros' part in such a fray,  
Whereas the danger could not be but great.  
Now she, not he, hereafter I must say,  
Marfisa was, 
Marfisa  of whom I did repeat,  
How she both fought, and foiled a little since,  
And with Gabrina, charged the Scottish Prince.   

8  
Rogero stout, and they of Clarimount,  
Of her and of her offer well esteemed,  
She joined with them, they making full account  
That she had been of that same sex she seemed.  
Strait ready on their horses backs they mount,  
They see aloof a cornet (as they deemed)  
Of horse, and mingled some on foot together,  
And all of them directly tending thither.   

9  
Their march, their ensigns, pennons, and their flags,  
Did cause for moors they known were & descried,  
Amid this crew, upon two little nags  
The prisoners rode with hands behind them tide,  
That must be changed for certain golden bags,  
That Bertolage had promised to provide;  
Come (saith Marfisa) to the other three;  
Now let the feast begin, and follow me.   

10  
Soft (quoth Rogero) there be wanting some  
Of those that to the banquet must be bidden,  
And to begin afore the guests be come,  

〈◊〉.  In reason and good manners is forbidden;  
By this, the other crew had overcome  
The hill, that late before from them were hidden,  
These were the traitorous wretches of Magaunse,  
And now was ready to begin the dance.   

11  
Maganza men of one side, merchant like,  
Brought laden moils with gold and costly ware,  
The Moors their prisoners brought with sword & pike  
Environed round about with heed and care;  
The Captains meet with mind a match to strike,  
The prisoners present at the bargain are,  
And now are bought and sold (for aught they know)  
To Bertolage their old and mortal foe.   

12  
Good Aldiger and noble Ammon's son,  
Could hold no longer seeing Bertolage,  
But both together at him they do run,  
With hearts all set on fierce revenge and rage,  
His force nor fate their fury could not shun,  
Their spears his armour and his breast did gauge,  
down falls the wretch, his wealth him cannot save,  
Such end I wish all wicked wretches have.   

13  
Marfisa and Rogero at this sign,  
Set out without expecting trumpets blast,  
And with two staves of strait well seasoned Pine,  
Twice twenty men unto the ground they cast;  
The Captain of the moors doth much repine,  
They of Maganza murmured as fast:  
For each side deemed, as they might in reason,  
That this had happened by the tother's treason.   

14  
Wherefore each side with wrath and fury kindled,  
Upbraiding tone the tother with untruth,  
With swords and bills, pel mel together mingled,  
Do fight, and then a bloody fray ensu'th,  
The Moorish Duke was by Rogero singled,  
A man e'en then in prime and strength of youth,  
But youth, nor strength, nor armour could not save him,  
From such a blow as good Rogero gave him.   

15  
Marfisa doth as much on other side,  
And in such sort besturd her with her blade,  
That look which way soever she did ride,  
An open lane for her the people made:  
If any were so stout the brunt to bide,  
Yet soon they found their forces overlaid;  
Through coats of proof they proved her sword would enter,  
She sent their souls below the middle centre.   

16  
If you have seen the honey making Bees  
To leave their hives, and going out in swarms, 
Simile. Virgel wrises that Bees do fight set battles many times.   
When as their kings and masters disagrees,  
And they make camps in th'air like men at arms,  
Strait in among them all the Swallow flees,  
And eats and beats them all unto their harms:  
So think Rogero and Marfisa then,  
Did deal among these bands of armed men.   

17  
Now Aldlger and Richardet no less,  
Upon Maganza met chants lay on load,  
Both free to set their kinsmen from distress, 
Horace: Cana perus & angus.   
And for they hated them like snake or toad,  
They that the cause nor quarrel could not guess,  
And saw their Captain dead, made short abode:  
Their plate, their coin and treasure all they yield,  
And were the first that faintly left the field.   

18  
So fly from Lions silly herds of Goats, 
Simile.   
That have devoured and spoiled them at their list,  
And torn their sides, their haunches and their throats,  
Yet none of them their fellows dare assist:  
So fled these men, and cast away their coats,  
And weapons all, and durst no more resist:  
Nor matuell if these two had Lion's hearts,  
That ready find such two to take their parts.   

19  
Whose acts at large to tell I do refrain,  
At which that age did not a little wonder,  
And now to tell them, men would think I feign,  
Yea though my words their actions far were under:  
For at one blow oft horse and man was slain,  
From head to foot whole bodies clou'n in sunder,  
And either standing on their reputation,  
Bred for their foes a costly emulation.   

20  
Still tone of them marked tothers valiant deed,  
And each of tother fell in admiration,  
She deems him Mars, or one of Mars his seed,  
And far above all human generation:  
And save he was deceived in her weed,  
He would have given her equal commendation,  
And likened her, as well he liken might,  
Unto Bellona for her valiant fight.   

21  
Thus of two bands these four the battle won,  
And all their stuff and carriages they got,  
The prisoners loosed, their bands were all undone,  
Their foes all foiled, such is their happy lot:  
The man was well whose horse could swiftest run,  
Small count they make of amble or of trot:  
The tone side leave their gold on asses laden,  
The tother of their captives are forboden.   

22  
The noble vanquishers do seize the prey,  

Fl●nders hath 〈…〉.  Which was both rich and sumptuous to behold,  
Of Flanders work an hanging rich and gay,  
(To hang a stately room) of silk and gold;  
They also found rich clothing and array,  
That should have been unto Lanfusa fold,  
And namely 'mong the rest a gallant gown,  
Embroidered round with cost of many a crown.   

23  
They further found good victuals and good store,  
Wine bottles cool and fresh, and good of taste,  
With which (not having eat that day before)  
They do agree to bait and break their fast,  
And every one prepares himself therefore,  
And to that end their curates they unlast:  
Now when Marfisa had put off her beaver,  
To be a woman every one perceive her.   

24  
Her golden hair trust up with careless art,  
Her forehead fair, and full of stately grace,  
Her eye, her lip, and every other part,  
So suiting to her comely shape and face,  
As bred e'en then in each beholder's hart,  
A reverend love and wonder in like case;  
And strait they asked her name, the which she told them,  
And with as great delight she doth behold them.   

25  
But she herself far more than all the rest,  
Rogeros' shape and person doth regard,  
His value great, his unappalled breast,  
Before the others all she much preferred,  
To him alone her speeches she addressed,  
Of him alone she would her speech were hard:  
Thus she in him, and he delighted in her,  
The while the other had prepared their dinner.   

26  
The place they dined in was a pleasant cave,  
And one of four that famous Merlin wrought,  
Where he in milk white marble did engrave  
Strange stories, which things future strangely taught,  
The very images seemed life to have;  
And saving they were dumb you wield have thought  
Both by their looks and by their heely features.  
That they had moved, and had been living creatures.   

27  

Of this look in the Allegory.  From out a desert wood an ugly beast  
There seemed to come, whose shape was thus defined  
An asles cares, a wolte in head and breil,  
A carcase all with pinching 〈◊〉 pined,  
A Lions grizzly raw, but all the test  
To fox like shape did seem to be inclined:  
In England, France, in Italy and Spain,  
Yea all the world this monster seemed to reign.   

28  
Where ere this cruel monster set his foot,  
He killed and spoiled of every sort and state,  
No height of birth or state with him did boot,  
He conquered kings and clowns, all in a rate,  
Yea this beasts power had ta'en so deep a root,  
It entered in Christ's vicar's sacred gate,  
And vexed Cardinals and Bishops chief,  
And bred a scandal e'en in our belief.   

29  
Unto this beast men seemed to bow and bend,  
This beast broke through each wall and every sense,  
No city could itself there from defend,  
Strong castles made from it but weak defence,  
In fine, her power did seem so far extend,  
That many were so fond and void of fence,  
To think and to believe this monster fell,  
Had power of all things both in heaven and hell.   

30  
But when this beast had ranged a while, behold  
One wearing on his head a laurel crown,  
With three that wore the flower de luce of gold,  
Embroidered richly on their purple gown,  
And with these three a stately Lion bold,  
Did join his force to put the monster down;  
The titles and the names that them concerned,  
Might in their garments plainly be discerned.   

31  
One that with sword the beast thrusts in the paunch,  
Was he whose praise no time shall ever smother,  
Francis the first of that name king of France,  
Of Austria Maximullen is another,  
Then Charles' the fist that with a mighty lance  
Smites through the beast, from tone side to the tother:  
The fourth that in the breast with arrow wounds him  
Was Henry th'eight, 
Of King H●●● the 8 〈◊〉 history of the book.  the writing to expounds him.   

32  
Leo the tenth, the Lion fierce is called,  
Who chaste him, and fast caught him by the ear,  
And in the chase the beast so tired and galled,  
As others took him while he held him there:  
By this the world seemed freed that erst was thralled,  
By this men seemed secure and void of fear,  
Seing that beast whose look late made them tremble  
Stroyd by the power of this so brave assemble.   

33  
This story so set forth (as I have told)  
With costly workmanship, great pleasure bred,  
In all their minds that did the same behold,  
And on this sight more than their meat they fed,  
And chief Marfisa wished to hear it told,  
What men these were, if men already dead,  
Or else a prophecy of things ensuing,  
〈◊〉 ●●dden skill, laid open to each man's viewing.   

34  
The Malagigi was by them requested,  
As one in Mathematics seen right well,  
And had the method thereof so digested,  
As he all hidden mysteries could tell,  
To show what monster thus the world molested,  
And who be these that him from earth expel:  
For though they saw their names, they did not know them,  
But he they knew by his great skill could show them.   

35  
Know then (quoth he) that these whose names appear  
In marble pure, did never live as yet,  
But long time hence, after six hundred year,  
To their great praise in princely throne shall sit,  
Merlin the English prophet placed them here  
In Arthur's time, and by his passing wit,  
Set here (as yet) their vuperformed deeds,  
And noted all their names upon their weeds.   

36  
This beast you saw, had first her habitation  
Beneath amongst the wicked fiends of hell,  
And stayed there till that wicked generation,  

〈◊〉 saith of the ●ge. ●unemque ●●sculumina & ● aurae 〈◊〉 humum 〈◊〉 signavit 〈◊〉 messor.  (I mean the iron age) on earth did dwell,  
When none durst trust without an obligation,  
When fraud first came 'tween them that buy and sell,  
And when the mighty (to their great reproach)  
First on the poor men's livings did encroach.   

37  
Then first this monster cruel got abroad,  
And ever since her power doth still increase,  
And wheresoe'er she maketh her abode,  
There is no friendship firm, nor godly peace;  

fruit of co●●●●nesse and 〈◊〉.  Conscience and justice under foot are trod,  
Good government and wholesome laws do cease,  
That Python Phoebus killed with thousand darts,  
Was monster less than this by thousand parts.   

38  
Thus Malagigi said, and then he told  
Who those should be that should the monster kill,  
That should come then when as the world were old,  
That should renew each good, and mend each ill,  
Whose names in sacred stile to be enrolled  

〈…〉 in the 〈◊〉.  Deserve, and to be praised and honoured still,  
That should in time to come, as he did construe,  
With bounty kill that miserable monster.   

39  
Those five I named, and more by five times five,  
Mine author names, that holp to slay the beast.  
Rogero and the rest the time did drive,  
In such like talk during the present feast,  
And ere they rose, behold there did arrive  
Unto this cave unwares another guest,  

〈◊〉  By name that maid from whom of late by force,  
Fierce Rodomont had ta'en Rogeros' horse.   

40  
She having heard by hap upon the way,  
Her mistress brother was at Merlin's cave,  
Where she had been herself an other day,  
Not thinking now Rogero there to have;  
Him when she saw, she not one word doth say  
To him, nor any show or inkling gave,  
Like one that knew so well to do her arrant.  
As she durst go, sometime beside her warrant.   

41  
But unto Richardet she frames her tale,  
Yet so as other might her speeches hear,  
How one from her a gallant courser stale,  
Which Bradamant her mistress held full dear,  
The horse (quoth she) Frontyno she did call,  
And I had led him thirty mile well near,  
Marsilia toward, where she bade me stay,  
And pointed me to meet me at a day.   

42  
So fond was I, I feared no man's force,  
Nor doubted no man's will to do me wrong,  
When once I should but show them how the horse  
Unto Renaldoes sister did belong:  
Yet one fierce Pagan void of all remorse,  
Met me, and took him from me, and ere long  
Did meet a foe, with whom I fight left him,  
That hath I hope by this of life bereft him.   

43  
Rogero with this tale was so much moved,  
That scant hereof Hyppalca made an end,  
But Richardetto strait by him was moved,  
Yea and conjured, as he would be his friend,  
That this attempt might sole by him be proved,  
And (but this damsel) none might him attend:  
That she may bring him to the Pagans sight,  
That took away her horse against all right.   

44  
Stout Richardet (though thinking too much wrong, 
Sentence.   
So oft to let another undertake  
Those enterprises that to him belong)  
Yet sith so earnestly Rogero spoke,  
He gives consent, and other stayed not long,  
But of the company his leave doth take,  
And leaves them all, in wonder great to see,  
That such high worth could in a young man be.   

45  
Now when Hyppalca was quite out of sight,  
She opened to Rogero all the troth,  
How she that counts him her beloved knight,  
And voweth to be his by solemn oath,  
Sent her of purpose to him this last night,  
Which she before concealed (as being loath  
Her mistress brother should her counsel know,  
How she that horse upon him did bestow.)   

46  
She told him how that he that took the steed,  
Did add these proud and scornful words beside,  
Because it is Rogeros horse indeed,  
So much the rather on the horse I ride,  
And if he will be grieved at this my deed,  
Tell him I do not mind myself to hide,  
For I am Rodomont (he said) whose name  
Where ere I pass filleth the world with fame.   

47  
One might have seen it in Rogeros' face,  
In how great dudgeon this great wrong he took,  
Both for the gift and giver in like case,  
And gross abuse, for which he did not look:  
He thinks what infamy and foul disgrace  
It were to him, so great despite to brook;  
Which if he would, then justly eu'rybody,  
Might take him for a dastard and a noddy.   

48  
Wherefore with heart upon revenge full set,  
He followeth forthwith his female guide,  
She that did think the fray unparted yet,  
That Rodomont and Mandricardo tried,  
By dark blind ways, the nearest she could get,  
Unto the place directly she did ride,  
But as you heard, they had deferred the quarrel,  
And hasted thence to help their Liege from peril.   

49  
And as I touched before, 
Rodomont. Mandricard. Doralice.  their hap them brought  
Unto the foresaid Merlin's famous cave,  
There where before good Malagigi taught,  
What secret meaning all the pictures have:  
Now had Marfisa (by the rest besought)  
Put on a woman's garment passing brave,  
Which lately for Lanfusa had been made,  
And so attired, refreshed her in the shade.   

50  
When that Tartarian Prince had spied this dame,  
Strait in his mind he plots this new found drift,  
I will (thought he) by conquest win the same,  
And give her Rodomontee as my gift,  

Sentence.  (As though that love were but a sport and game,  
That might be sold and changed for a shift)  
For why (he thought) what needs a man complain,  
If losing one, he do another gain?   

51  
Wherefore the tother's damage to repair,  
And that he might his own in quiet have,  
And for Marfisa seemly was and fair,  
As no man need a dame more comely crave:  
He doth forthwith unto them make repair,  
Denouncing strait the challenge stout and brave,  
That he with those four knights at tilt would run,  
Till they slew him, or he their Lady won.   

52  
Strait stepped out Malagige and Vivian,  
Both priest in her defence to break a spear,  
Not fearing to encounter man to man,  
With those two Pagans they saw present there;  
But when the fray between them now began;  
Pierce Rodomont stood still and doth forbear,  
As coming thither with another mind,  
And not to change his purpose first assigned.   

53  
Now of the brothers Vivian was the first,  
That with great might the Pagan did invade,  
Upon whose crest in vain his spear he burst,  
His blow no hurt it did, no sign it made,  
His force was least, so was his fortune worst,  
For Mandricard (more perfect in his trade)  
With so great strength and skill his spear enforced,  
That he was overthrown and quite unhorsed.   

54  
To venge his brother, Malagigi thought,  
But of his thought he quickly was deceived,  
His force thus ouermatcht prevailed nought,  
From off his saddle he was quickly heaved.  
Next. Aldiger his coming dearly bought,  
For in his side a great wound he received,  
So down upon the grass he fell half dead,  
His visage waxing pale, his armorred.   

55  
Then Richardetto came with mighty lance,  
And proved himself by his great force to be  
Worthy the name of Palladine of France,  
As oft his foes did feel, his friends did see;  
But at this time one overthwart mischance  
Did hap, that down among the rest lay he,  
His horse wherein he put so great a trust,  
Fell down with him, and tumbled in the dust.   

56  
When at no other champion did appear,  
But all were overthrown in this late fight,  
Thinking this conquest now obtained clear,  
Without more stay he from his horse doth light,  
And coming unto her with smiling cheer,  
Fair dame (quoth he) you now are mine by right,  
You cannot it deny, or once excuse it,  
For by the laws of battle so we use it.   

57  
Indeed (Marfisa said) it were no wrong,  
And I were yours I grant by law of war,  
If I were theirs, or did to them belong.  
That you have foiled in this present jar,  
But I shall make you know I hope ere long,  
You miss your mark, your aim did greatly are,  
I am mine own, mine owner is within me,  
He that will have me, from myself must win me.   

58  
I handle can (quoth she) both sword and spear,  
And have ere this made more than one man bleed,  
Then called she for her armour which was there,  
Which by a page was brought to her with speed,  
Off goeth her gown, and for she still did wear  
A slender truss beneath her woman's weed,  
Her well shaped limbs therein were plainly seen,  
In shape like Mars, 
Cleopatra.  in face like Egypt's Queen.   

59  
When at all pieces she was armed round,  
She vauteth nimbly up into her seat,  
And twice or thrice she makes her horse to bond,  
To bate a little of his furious heat,  
And makes a turn or two above the ground,  
Then turns she to her so to do her seat;  
Such was (adjudge) Pentheseleas fight,  
Against Achilles' famous Greekish knight.   

60  
Thus each themselves upon their horse advances,  
And with their couched spears forthwith they run,  
up in a thousand splinters flies the lances,  
But unto them no hurt at all is done:  
The Pagan greatly marvels how it chances,  
That she should scape, and curses Moon and Sun;  
And she with her success as ill content,  
Blasphemeth eke the heavens and firmament.   

61  
Then they assayed with swords most dreadful dint,  
To wound the tone the tother, and to kill,  
Their strokes were such as might have pierced the flint,  
And to their force was joined passing skill:  
They lay on load amain, and do not stint,  
The sound doth all the place with echo fill,  
But never was it more for their behoose,  
To have their armour of to passing proof.   

62  
But while they now did most apply the fray,  
Fierce Rodomont doth step them both betwixt,  
And blames him much for making such delay,  
Of that which late by him was firmly fixed;  
And then with courteous speech he her doth pray,  
With lowly words and lofty, quaintly mixed,  
That she would help to aid Traianos' son,  
Whose tents were in much danger to be won.   

63  
To this request Marfisa doth assent,  
As well to help king Agramant thereby,  
As for she came to France with that intent,  
The forces of the Palladines to try;  
This while Rogero, wroth and malcontent,  
After the stealer of his horse doth high;  
And having found of him the perfect track,  
He sends again his guide Hippalca back.   

64  
And for he thought that none could do it better,  
The messenger he makes her of his mind,  
And sends by her his lately written letter,  
Protesting he will still continue kind,  
And that he doth himself acknowledge debtor,  
And would himself to her for ever bind,  
He only prays her for a time excuse  
His absence, which he would not, might he choose.   

65  
With this dispatch Hippalca went her way,  
And came to mount Albano that same night.  
Rogero made but very little stay,  
Until he had Frontino in his sight;  
Which seen and known, forthwith there was no way,  
But he will have his horse again, or fight  
With him, that had with so unnoble force,  
The damsel robbed of the gallant horse.   

66  
And strait in show of war he couched his spear,  
And to his face the Pagan he decide,  
But Rodomont doth patiently forbear,  
e'en as a job, and all his words abide:  
Not that of him he had one spark of fear,  
For his great value often had been tried,,  
But that the danger of his Lord and King,  
Weyd more with him then any other thing.   

67  
Wherefore he gently tells him for what cause  
He may not fight, and him exhorted to,  
What all divine, and what all human laws,  

〈◊〉 his di●ressent Prince.  Unto his Prince commands a man to do.  
I (said Rogero) am content to pause,  
In this respect, and make a truce with you,  
So that this horse again to me you render,  
Which so to take, your reason was but slender.   

68  
Now while these two herein do square and brave,  
The Tartar king doth unto them approach,  
And when he saw what arms Rogero gave,  
He set another brabble strait abroach:  
Mine are (quoth he) these arms that now you have,  
How dare you on my titles thus encroach?  
They cause why Mandricardo spoke these words,  

〈◊〉 Eagle.  Was that Rogero gave the King of burds.   

69  
An Eagle argent in a field of blue,  
Rogero gave, whilom the crest of Troy,  
As one that thence derived his pedegrew,  
And did by due descent the same enjoy;  
But hereof Mandricardo nothing knew,  
Or nought believed, and called it but a toy,  
And took it as an injury and scorn,  
To see the same by any other worn.   

70  
For he himself did give, as for his cote,  

The Eagle was ●●nd to bear up sword to jupiter.  That bird that bareup Ganymede on high,  
Ere since he won (as I before did note)  
Don Hector's arms, and won such praise thereby,  
The good success hereof makes him afloat,  
So that he did Rogero strait defy,  
I shall (quoth he) some better manners teach thee,  
Then in such saucy sort to over reach thee.   

71  
As wood well dried will quickly fall on fire, 
Simile.   
If so a man a little do it blow;  
So was Rogero kindled now in ire,  
To hear the Pagan reprehend him so;  
Thou thinkst (quoth he) to have thy fond desire,  
By charging me now with a double so,  
But know that I my party good will make,  
From him mine horse, from thee mine arms to take.   

72  
Did not we two about this matter board?  
And then to take thy life I did abstain,  
Because that by your side I saw no sword;  
But now sith you begin this brawl again,  
This shall be fight in deed, that was but word,  
And that your crest shall turn you to much pain,  
Which unto me descent and propagation  
Hath left, but you do hold by viurpation.   

73  
Nay thou usurpst, the tother strait doth say,  
And with that word he Durindana drew,  
That sword that erst Orlando flung away,  
And then a cruel fray was like ensue:  
But strait the other two did cause them stay,  
And chiefly Rodomont did seem to rue,  
That Mandricard of lightness showed such token,  
That twice by him his promise had been broken.   

74  
First when to get Marfisa he had thought,  
He had conflicted more than twice or thrice,  
And now with other quarreled for nought,  
About a bird or some such fond devise:  
Nay then (quoth he) if needs you would have fought,  
We two should try the title of our prize,  
Which by consent should stand still undecided,  
Until our Prince's safety were provided.   

75  
Wherefore for shame do as you have agreed,  
And let us cease and lay all quarrels by,  
And when our Prince from danger shall be freed,  
Then first between us two the matter try,  
And after if you hue, you may proceed  
To fight it out with him, and so will I:  
Though well I wot, when I have done with you,  
But little will remain for him to do.   

76  
Tush (saith the Tartar Prince) for him nor thee,  
Nor all the world beside, I pass one straw,  
For though you fight, or though you do agree,  
Of neither of you both I stand in awe,  
As water in a spring, 
Simile.  so strength in me  
Shall still supply much more than you can draw;  
I hope by that time I have done my feat,  
From head to foot with blood ●le make you sweat.   

77  
Thus one ill word another doth draw on,  
And wrathful Mandricard them both defier  
Rodomont would have peace, but they would none,  
If this speak sharp, than that more sharp replies;  
If one strife be compounded, yet anon  
Another strife as bad or worse doth rise;  
In vain Marfisa labours to compound them,  
For more and more untoward still she found them.   

78  

Simile.  e'en as the painful husbandman doth think,  
By care to keep the river in his bounds  

Medew and a●●able ground.  That swells with rain, ready to pass the brink,  
And overflow his mowd or sowed grounds,  
He strengthens every place that seems to shrink,  
Yet more and more the water still abounds,  
And while he stops one vent, another groweth,  
Till over all perforce at last it floweth.   

79  
So when the dame, of whom I last made mention,  
Saw how Rogero stout and Mandricard,  
With Rodomont continued in contention,  
And each would seem for other two too hard,  
She willing to compound this sharp dissension,  
Persuades them, but they little it regard,  
For still as one at her request forbears,  
The other two are at it by the ears.   

80  
When as she saw their fury still increase,  
Let either us (quoth she) our Prince assist,  
And in the mean time let all quarrels cease;  
Or if you in this fury still persist,  
Then I with Mandricard will have no peace.  
Do herein (quoth Rogero) as you list,  
For I resolved am to have my horse,  
Although it be by fair means or by force.   

81  
Then do (said Rodomont) your worst and best,  
For with that horse to part I not agree,  
But here before you all I do protest,  
That if our King by this stay damaged be,  
And that for want of aid he be distressed,  
The cause thereof did not proceed of me;  
Rogero little ways his protestation,  
But firmly holds his first determination.   

82  
And at the Sarzan furiously he flies,  
And with his shoulder gave him such a thrust,  
He lost his stirrups, and so loosed his thighs,  
That hard he scaped lying in the dust.  
What? hold Rogero, Mandricardo cries,  
Either not fight, or fight with me you must,  
And in great rage, as that same word he spoke,  
Rogeros' beaver with great might he strake.   

83  
The blow was such, as made him forward lean,  

Rodomont was son of Vlie●● king of Algiov.  And ere that he himself again could rear,  
Upon him smote the son of Vlyen,  
With so great strength as no strength might it bear  
That had his armour been of temper mean,  
No doubt they had an end made of him there:  
Rogeros hands fly open with senseless pain,  
The tone his sword, the tother leaves his rain.   

84  
His horse away bears him about the green,  
And Balisard his blade is left behind:  
Marfisa that had to Rogero been  
Fellow in arms that day, was grieved in mind,  
To see him used so hardly them between,  
And being strong of limbs, and stout by kind,  
She smiteth Mandricardo on the crown  
So hard, as wants not much to fell him down.   

85  
After Rogero Rodomont doth get him,  
And now Frontino had well-nigh been won,  
But by the way stout Richardetto met him,  
And with him joined his cousin Bovos' son;  
Tone justles him, and further off doth set him,  
The tother, namely Vinian, doth run,  
Unto Rogero that by this was waked,  
And lends his sword unto his right hand naked.   

86  
Now back he doth return, enraged with scorn,  
Minding to pay his damage home again, 
Simile.   
e'en as a Lion, whom the Bull hath borne  
Upon his head, is full of fierce disdain,  
Flies at him still, nor fears his cruel horn,  
His anger making him forget his pain,  
And on his beaver with such force he thundered,  
As though he wield his head in twain have sundered.   

87  
And sure he had performed it very near,  
If Balisarda had been in his hand,  
Which he let fall, as you before did hear.  
Now when as Discord saw how things did stand,  
She thinks no peace can possibly be here,  
And taking Pride her sister by the hand,  
Now sister let us turn us to our Friars,  
For here (quoth she) are raised sufficient fires.   

88  
And so away they went, and let them go:  
And let me tell you how Rogero sped,  
Who gave to Rodomont so fierce a blow,  
That such a great amazement in him bred,  
That twice or thrice he reeled to and fro;  
Frontino with his senseless master fled,  
Also his sword had fallen out of his fist,  
But that a chain did tie it to his wrist.   

89  
This while Marfisa held the other rack,  
And yet on either side the conquest swayed,  
Each had so good an armour on their back,  
Of piercing it they need not be afraid,  
Yet by a chance Marfisa happed to lack,  
And likewise happed to have Rogeros' aid,  
For in a turn she made, her horse did trip,  
And in the dirt upon one side did slip.   

90  
And as again he laboured up to rise,  
The cruel Tattar justled him so cross,  
That on his side the horse constrained lies,  
Foundering again upon the slimy mos●e;  
Which when Rogero from aloof espies,  
How near she was to danger great and loss,  
He steps to Mandricard, fiercely assailing him,  
While Rodomont stands mazed, his senses failing him,   

91  
The Tartar doth as fiercely him resist,  
But yet Rogero strake so great a blow,  
Both to avenge himself and her assist,  
Whom Mandricardo happed to overthrow,  
That sure I think that blow had little mist,  
Quite to have clou'n him to the saddle bow,  
Save that the Tartars armour was so hard,  
And that Rogero wanted Balisard.   

92  
By this the Sarzan king again did wake  
And seeing none but Richardetto near,  
He calls to mind how for Rogeros' sake,  
That youth to him was troublesome while ear.  
Strait with great rage he toward him doth make,  
Minding to make him buy that curtsy dear:  
And sure good Richardetto had repent it,  
But that his cousin with great art prevented it.   

93  
His cofin Malagige, whose skill was great,  
In all that doth to magic art pertain,  
With words that he without book could repeat,  
Did conjure up a sprite of hellish train,  
And by this means he works a passing feat:  
For (though he named no place) he doth ordain,  
This spirit in Doralices horse to enter,  
And bear her thence away at all adventure.   

94  
The spirit thus conjured, quickly doth his part,  
Into the damsels gentle nag he crept,  
And so his quiet nature did pervart,  
That one the sudden thirty foot he leapt,  
And ten foot high, yet with so easy start,  
That Doralicee still the saddle kept,  
Yet cried she out, in doubt to have miscarried,  
For in the devils name she thence was carried.   

95  
Forthwith to help her Rodomonte goeth,  
Because she fled, and cried to him for aid,  
To stay behind the Tartar is as loath,  
For fear between them he may be betrayed,  
He leaves Rogero and Marfisa both,  
Nor in the place so little time he stayed,  
As to accord with them upon some truce,  
Or make at least some mannerly excuse.   

96  
This while Marfisa was got up again,  
And now she means to venge her on her so,  
But he was gone, at which in great disdain,  
She frets and chaces, that he had served her so,  
Rogero chases as much, for all in vain,  
He knew it would be, after them to go:  
They know their steeds (and this doth grieve them more  
Cannot out run Frontin & Brighadore.   

97  
Wherefore supposing (as it was indeed)  
That they were gone unto the Turkish host,  
To follow them forthwith these two agreed,  
Though not to follow as they went in post,  
Not doubting but when Agramant were freed,  
At leisure them to meet, and to their cost:  
They onward go, but yet Rogero meant,  
To bid his friends farewell afore he went.   

98  
Down from his horse he gently doth descend,  
And Richardetto he aside doth take,  
And promised him for ay to be his friend,  
And to his noble sister for his sake:  
To whom (said he) I pray you me commend,  
Yet in such pretty sort the same he spoke,  
His inward love was not thereby detected,  
Nor her great love to him, one whit suspected.   

99  
Thus solemn leave once ta'en on either side.  
And proffers of great love and curtsy made,  
To him was hurt, and all the rest beside,  
As still among great nobles is the trade,  
Rogero with Marfisa on doth ride,  
But how they did the Christian camp invade,  
And what great loss did Charles thereby receive,  
In next ensuing book you may perceive.   
In the xxvi. book I observe that Aldiger did discreetly refuse the challenge of Marfisa, 
Moral.  which might perhaps have hindered his better purpose in rescuing of his kinsmen. In Hippalca we may note the wisdom of a wary messenger, that knows as well to hold her peace as to speak. Lastly in Rogero, Rodomont, Mandricard and Marfisa, the confused effects of discord.  
The Princes named by mine author to be killers & vanquishers of the miserable monster (as I called it) by which avarice is meant, 
History.  are so famous in all writings of this age, that I need not speak of them, specially our king Henry the eight, whose bounty and magnificence can never be forgotten while this realm shall be peopied, or any histories read.  
This description of the monster of covetousness, is (in my fancy) very well handled by mine Author, 
Allegory.  far beyond the like in Dant who maketh her only like a Wolf, pined with famine; But Ariosto goeth farther, and more significantly, describing her first to be ugly, because of all vices it is the most hateful; ears of an ass, being for the most part ignorant, or at the least careless of other men's good opinions; a Wolf in head and breast, namely ravenous and never satisfied; a Lion's grisly jaw, terrible and devouring; a fox in all the rest, wily and crafty, and timorous of those that are stronger than himself: all which applications are so proper and so plain, as it is needless to stand upon them.  
Some very fond have surmised, 
Allusion.  and published the same in print, that this was alluded to the Bishop of Rome, but how absurd that imagination is, the praise of the Pope, then living, following in the 32. staff doth plainly show. But Fornarius supposeth it to be meant rather by some temporal Prince of Italy, that with his covetousness oppressed the people, and therefore might be, not unfitly, termed such a monster.  
Here end the notes of the xxuj. book.   

  

THE XXVII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Rogero and those other Pagan kings,  
Make Charles again to Paris walls retire:  
Among the Turks new seed of quarrel springs,  
And kindles in their hearts a quenchless fire:  
Which all their camp in great disorder brings.  
Agramant to appease them doth desire;  
Fierce Rodomont doth leave the camp in wrath,  
Because his mistress him forsaken hath:  

1  

〈◊〉 wits 〈◊〉 sudden them 〈◊〉.  AMong the many rare and special gifts,  
That in the female sex are found to sit,  
This one is chief, that they at sudden shifts,  
Give best advice, and show most ready wit:  
But man, except he thinks and chews, and fifts,  
How every part may answer other fit,  
By rash advice doth often overshoot him,  
And doth attempt the things that do not boot him.   

2  
Good Malagigi thought he had done wisely,  
In making Doralice to Paris fly,  
But if he had the matter weighed precisely,  
(Though Richardetto was preserved thereby)  
He would have sure confessed it done unwisely,  
His safety with so great a loss to buy:  
For by this act (which he then not forethought)  
A loss unspeakable to Charles was wrought.   

3  
Alas how much might he have better done,  
If he had made the fiend the wench convey,  
Unto the fall or rising of the Sun?  
To West, or East, or any other way,  
Where Rodomont and Agricanes son,  
From Paris walls might have gone far astray?  
But he that ever wisheth Christens evil,  
So at this time did prove himself a Devil.   

4  
The siend her silly horse most slily entered,  
And, not before prescribed any place,  
He quickly all the company distempered;  
Nor bore he her away a common pace,  
But over brooks, and streams, and ditches ventured:  
She crying still for aid as in such case,  
Nor leaves her beast to fling, run, snore and stamp,  
Until she quite was past the Christian camp.   

5  
There did she come e'en as she could desire,  
Among the midst of Agramantes train,  
And there at last she found the king her sire,  
That of Granata did possess the reign:  
The while her lovers both themselves do tyre,  
And in pursuing her do take great pain,  
By tracing her with as great toil and care,  
As huntlmen do with pleasure trace the Hare.   

6  
Now Charles 'tis time for thee to look about,  
Unto thy walls and strengths in time betake thee,  
Thou never canst escape this plunge, I doubt,  
Except thou stir up quickly, and awake thee,  
Thy strength, the lamps of France are quenched out  
I mean thy friends & champions chief forsake thee,  
Orlando thou, his wits have him relinquished,  
And all his virtues drowned and quite extinguished.   

7  
Likewise Renaldo, though not fully mad,  
Yet little less than mad seeks there and hear●,  
For fair Angelica, and is full sad,  
To see that he of her no news can hear; 
Lib. 2.   
For why a certain old enchanter had,  
Told him a forged tale, that touched him near,  
How she, to whom of love he made profession,  
Was in Orlando's keeping and possession.   

8  
This made him at the first so loath to go,  
To England, whither he was sent for aid;  
This made him back again to hasten so,  
Then when the Turks his presence so dismayed,  
And thinking after that, some news to know,  
By privy search the Nunneries all he laid,  
And Castles all, in Paris and about,  
To see if he by search could find her out.   

9  
But when he heard of her no news nor tiding,  
And that Orlando there likewise did want,  
He could in Paris make no longer biding,  
Doubting his rival sought him to supplant,  
But up and down about the country riding  
Sometime to Brava, sometime to Anglant,  
Snpposing still Orlando her had hidden,  
Lest of his pleasure he might be forbidden.   

10  
And thus the wicked fiend his time espied,  
To give the Christens such a fatal blo,  
When as these two, in whom they most affide,  
Were absent now their Prince and country fro;  
further for soldiers of the Turkish side,  
All that were valiant men, or counted so,  
Were all against this time enticed hither,  
Wholly uniting all their force together.   

11  
Gradasso stout, and Sacrapantee fierce,  
That in that charmed castle long had dwelled,  
Which th'English Duke, as I did late rehearse,  
Dissolved quite, and caused like snow to melt.  
These two likewise the Christian camp do pierce,  
The forces of these two the Christens felt.  
Rogero and Marfisa made less haste,  
And so it happened▪ they arrived last.   

12  
The first two couple near the Christens tents,  
Did meet, and then after long consultation,  
Each unto other showing their intents,  
They all conclude with on determination,  
And all of them to this give their consents.  
In spite of all the Christian generation,  
To succour Agramant their Lord and Liege,  
And maugre Charles his might, to raise the siege.   

13  
Strait in one crew they four together knit,  
Break through the christian watch by force amain,  
Neither in hugger mugger did they it,  
But crying loudly, Africa and Spain,  
They lay on load, and every one they hit,  
Dead or astonished doth there remain:  
Alarm then all o'er the camp was rung,  
Though few could tell the cause fró whence it sprung.   

14  
Some thought the Gascoigns or the Swissers bold,  
By mutiny had made some insurrection,  
And their surmise unto the Emperor told,  
Who came with mind to give them due correction  
But when he did the bodies dead behold,  
Incurable until the resurrection,  
He standeth still like one with wonder mazed,  
And on their woeful wounds long time he gazed.   

15  
e'en as a man that with a bolt of thunder, 
Simile.   
Hath seen his dwelling house smit unaware,  
Strait searcheth with no little fear nor wonder,  
Which way the bolt did pass that cauld his care:  
So Charles that saw men's bodies cut in sunder,  
Inquires, of so great wounds who authors are,  
And when he knew how few they were that did it,  
Did wish himself there present to forbid it.   

16  
This while Marfisa on another side,  
With good Rogero do them sore impeach,  
And through the camp in spite of them they ride,  
Killing or wounding all within their reach:  
As in a migne that lies close unespide, 
Simile.   
With trains of gunpowder men make a breach:  
Or as a tempest goes along by coast, 
Simile.   
So suddenly these two brake through the host.   

17  
Many that scaped the other four by flight, 
〈◊〉   
In flying, 
Mors & 〈…〉 Virg.  fell unwares upon these twain;  
And felt by proof that neither flight nor fight,  
Can save a man ordained to be slain. 
Stat 〈◊〉 dies.   
e'en as a Fox, whom smoke and fire doth fright,  
So as he dare not in the ground remain, 
Simile.   
Bolts out, 
〈…〉 the Fox 〈◊〉  and through both smoke & fire she flieth,  
Into the Tariers' mouth, and there he dieth.   

18  
Thus last of all, by this most noble pair,  
The Christian army once again was sundered,  
And then to Agramant they all repair,  
Who welcomes them, and at their value wondered.  
Now hope and courage, drive away despair,  
One Turk, of Christens strait defied an hundred,  
So great a boldness in their mind doth rise,  
By help and succour of these new supplies.   

19  
Strait way on both sides out their men were brought  
Their standards and their banners all displayed,  
And there that day a bloody field was fought,  
And neither side made show to be dismayed,  
For hopes alike in either army wrought,  
Tones passed conquests, tother's present aid.  
But fortune on the Christens so did frown,  
That they again were driven unto the town.   

20  
The passing force of cruel Rodomount,  
The strength and value great of Mandricard,  
Rogeros' virtue, that doth all surmount,  
Gradassos' courage of no small regard,  
Marfisas' heart, of principal account,  
The skill of Sacrepant, with best compared,  
These were the causers of good Charles his loss,  
And sent the Christens whom by weeping cross. 
Proue●●e.    

21  
Great store were drowned in Sequana with haste,  
The bridge so narrow was for to receive them,  
Wishing (as Dedals son had in time passed)  
Some wings wherewith aloft in air to heave them,  
Some thrusting, strove to get them in so fast,  
That strength & breath, & life at last did leave them  
But that, where by king Charles was chiefly shaken,  
Was this, that many Palladyns were taken.   

22  
Thus fortune once again did turn the wheel,  
The good king Charles had her, but could not hold her,  
And of this foil this hurt he then did feel,  
It fainter made his friends, his foes the bolder:  
The Marquis of Vienna true as steel,  
Was at that service wounded in his shoulder,  
And many hurt, but none did play his part,  
So well that day, as valiant Brandimart.   

23  
He stoutly bore it out, no little space,  
And when he saw there was no other way,  
Then to the fury prudently gave place,  
And spared himself, against another day:  
Now once again is Charles in woeful case,  
Now once again to Paris siege they lay.  
Young Orphaus, and old widow's prayer and cries,  
Again unto God's heavenly throne arise.   

24  
The Angel Michael, was but ill apaid,  
Finding the cause of those good Christens tears,  
He thought his maker was but ill obeyed,  
And that he may be blamed therefore he fears;  
He calls himself deceived and betrayed,  
By her should set the Pagans by the ears,  
From which (it seemed) now she did so vary,  
As she had rather done the quite contrary.   

25  
e'en as the Servitor whose love and zeal, 
〈◊〉   
More than his memory may be commended,  
Forgetting in some weighty cause to deal,  
That by his Lord to him was recommended,  
Would with new care his former fault conceal,  
That er his master know, it may be mended:  
So this good Angel, went not up to God,  
Till he had done as much as he was bod.   

26  
To seek dame Discord he doth leave the sky, 
〈◊〉 again 〈◊〉 & beaten.   
And to the Abbey he returns again,  
Where her amid the monks he might espy,  
That change old officers, and new ordain:  
She laughs to see their portises to fly,  
Ready to knock out one another's brain:  
The Angel takes her by her painted locks,  
And with great fury gives her many knocks.   

27  
He broke a crosses handle on her crown,  
And grievously doth beat her, back and side,  
The wretch upon her mary bones falls down,  
At th'Angels feet, and mercy, mercy cried:  
Pack to the Pagans then, that siege yond town,  
(Quoth he) and see that you among them bide,  
For if this place again thou ever trouble,  
Assure thyself, thy payment shallbe double.   

28  
Though Discords back and arms were sore with beating  
Yet thence with all the hast she could she went;  
Sore terrifid with that great Angels threating,  
Doubting again in like sort to be shent:  
Yet in this haste, behind her not forgetting,  
Bellows and coals, in steed of those were spent,  
By which in many minds, and hearts invincible,  
She quickly kindle might a fire inquenchible.   

29  
Rogero, Mandricard, and Rodomount,  
'Gan now their former quarrels to renew,  
As making of the Christians small account, 
Discord among the Pagan 〈◊〉.   
That unto Paris walls themselves withdrew:  
Wherefore to Agramant they do recount  
Their quarrels, & the grounds of whence they grew,  
Each one by challenge his just cause averring,  
The combats order to the king referring.   

30  
Also Marfisa doth the king entreat,  
That she may end her combat first begun,  
With as great haste thereof, and as great heat,  
Against the Tartar, Agricanes son:  
This she desires with haste and instance great,  
As one that thinks, great wrong to her was done,  
If in regard of any state or power,  
She should attend one day, or yet one hour.   

31  
But Rodomont allegeth that of right,  
He first should end the matter with his rival,  
Sith by accord they first deferred the fight,  
Till time might serve, after their here arrival:  
No less Rogero for his horse takes spite,  
And swears, that whether they agree or strive all,  
To take Frontino, no man should restrain him,  
Or else to fight with him that doth detain him.   

32  
Further, the matter farther to entangle,  
The argent Eagle in the azure field,  
Gave to the Tartar matter more to jangle,  
And quarrel with Rogero for his shield:  
And so confusedly he then did wrangle,  
As though with all at once he would the field,  
And in his fury sure he had attempted it,  
But that the king's commandment flat prevented it.   

33  
Who first with grave and friendly admonition,  
To peace and good atonement did exhort them,  
But when beyond all means of composition,  
He saw that wrath and fury did transport them,  
To certain Marshals, he doth give commission,  
According to the law of arms to sort them:  
And of all ways, this was not thought the worst,  
To try by lots, which two should combat furst.   

34  
Four little scrolls were put into a pot,  
The first had Rodomont and Mandricard;  
Rodomont and Rogero next they wrote;  
The third Rogero was and Mandricard;  
The fourth pair that must try the present lot,  
Was stout Marfisa joined to Mandricard:  
When lots were cast, these two first out were ta'en,  
Fierce Rodomont and son of Agrican.   

35  
Mandricard and Rogero next they find,  
Rodomont and Rogero next was said:  
Mandricard and Marfisa stayed behind,  
With which the stately dame was ill paid:  
Nor was Rogero well content in mind,  
Doubting that when they first their parts had played,  
The combat will be such between them two,  
He and Marfisa should have nought to do.   

36  
Not far from Paris, lay a level ground,  
That was in compass scant a thousand paces,  
This plain with rails, and bars was compassed round,  
And tents therein were set with equal spaces,  
With scaffolds raised upon the outward bound,  
To give to lookers on convenient places:  
Now came the time these strifes should be decided,  
Among those knights, those tents were thus divided.   

37  
In the pavilion bordering on the East,  
Stands Rodomont with visage stern and grim,  
Ferraw and Sacrepant were ready priest,  
To put his scally serpents hide on him:  
In other tent that was upon the West,  
Gradasso and stout Falsyron do trim,  
With Hector's arms so stately and so fair,  
The valiant Prince, king Agricanes hair.   

38  
On one side in a high tribunal seat,  
Do sit the kings of Africa and Spain,  
With Stordilan and other Princes great,  
Both feared and followed of the Turkish train:  
Happy was he that day, that could but get,  
A place to sit or stand although with pain,  
On rigged of house, or wall, or top of tree,  
In so greatpresse, the goodly show to see.   

39  
On other side sat Ladies of great name,  
In stately sort, to see and to be seen,  
That out of divers realms and countries came,  
To visit or attend the Spanish queen:  
There Doralyce was placed, 
Tully noting a man of light behaviour, said he was a man of two colours.  that lovely dame,  
Who wears a rob of crimson cut on green,  
Yet was the crimson stained in such a fashion,  
It rather seemed inclining to carnation.   

40  
Among the rest Marfisa sat that day,  
In short light clothes most sumptuously arrayed,  
The fashion of such kind, as well it may  
Become a warrior, and yet a maid,  
Hippolita (I think) used such array,  
When in the field her banner she displayed,  
Thus each thing was prepared for the fight,  
And each man was prepared for the sight.   

41  
An Herald in his coat of arms steps out, 
Gradasso and Mandricard fell out, about the sword.   
And of the law of arms expounds the guise,  
Professing to resolve each little doubt,  
That in such case accustoms to arise:  
The people gazing standeth all about,  
Attended with listening ears, and longing eyes,  
When from the tent of valiant Mandricard  
Behold a sudden noise and stir was hard.   

42  
The cause was this, the king of Sericane,  
Who (as before I did rehearse) was one,  
That holp to arm the son Agricane,  
Taking his sword in hand to put it on,  
Saw written in the handle, Durindane,  
And looking more advisedly thereon,  
He saw Almontes' arms graven on the blade,  
The which strange sight him greatly wonder made.   

43  
And glad he was when once he did espy it,  
(The chiefest cause that first to France he came)  
Although before he never could come by it;  
Wherefore he questions strait upon the same,  
If Mandricardo won it, or did buy it?  
Who in this sort his answer then did frame:  
I with Orlando for this sword did quarrel,  
And ear I had it, put my life in peril.   

44  
Further unto this answer he doth add,  
A farther lie, his glory to increase,  
How that Orlando for the fear he had,  
That for this sword he never should have peace,  
Had thrown away the sword, and feigned him mad, 
〈…〉   
That thereby he might cause his quartel cease:  
Doing herein, 
〈…〉  as is the Castor wont,  
Bite of his stones, when he is nearly hunted.   

45  
Well (quoth Gradasso) what Orlando meant,  
I cannot now discuss, nor do I know,  
But sure I am it is not mine intent,  
Now I have found it here to let it go,  
The money, men, munition I have spent,  
Deserve as good a thing as this I trow:  
You did but find it, you yourself confess it,  
And now I challenge it and do possess it.   

46  
If you deny my claim, here I will prove it,  
This field the court, this list my pleading bar,  
My plea is such, as no writ can remove it,  
My judged must be the sequel of the war.  
War said tother, who can better love it  
Then I? these words to me as music are,  
If so the king of Sarza will agree,  
To stay his combat, till I fight with thee.   

47  
Be sure I'll answer thee, and all beside.  
That dare presume to offer me offence:  
With that Rogero stepped between and cried,  
Ho sirs, with this I mind not to dispense,  
Or let the fight proceed, as lots have tried,  
Or I myself will put you to your fence:  
Shall he deny the sword and shall I yield,  
That you shall wear mine Eagle on your shield?   

48  
Wherefore preserve that order first agreed on,  
From which in honour, you may no way start,  
Or if to break it further you proceed on,  
I break will all, if you do break a part.  
Tush (quoth the Tartar) threats we have no need on,  
If Mars were in you both, and took your part,  
Yet both should find it folly to attempt,  
Me of my shield, or sword once to prevent.   

49  
And with that word forthwith he bent his fist,  
And on Gradassos' hand so fierce he strake,  
That suddenly, or ear Gradasso wist,  
He made him unawares the sword forsake:  
Who much repined he thus his purpose mist,  
And that so unprepared he could him take,  
And much more grieved it him, that this disgrace,  
Was offered him in such an open place.   

50  
Wherefore to be avenged of so great wrong,  
He steppeth back and out his sword he draws,  
The tother doth no farther time prolong,  
Though in respect of order there was cause,  
Nay which was more, he thought himself so strong  
To fight with all at once, he asked no pause,  
But to them both at once he makes defiance,  
In his own strength he had so great affiance.   

51  
This man is mad, but let me with him try it,  
Gradasso said, I'll make him wise again:  
Nay softly (quoth Rogero) I deny it,  
For this same combat doth to me pertain:  
Stand back saith tone, saith other nay not I yet,  
Back you; yet both still in their place remain:  
Thus do these three with malice great and spite,  
Strangely begin a combat tripartite.   

52  
And sure to much confusion it had grown,  
Had not some men, more stout perhaps then wise,  
Themselves among them undiscreetly thrown,  
With courage great, but yet with small advise,  
To succour others danger with their own:  
Yet could no force them part, nor no devise,  
Till Agramant himself, their dreaded Lord,  
In person came their quarrel to accord.   

53  
The reverence great that unto him they bear,  
Made them forthwith their forces to restrain,  
Who strait the causes of these broils did hear,  
And to compound them sought, but all in vain,  
For scant Gradasso could be made forbear,  
The sword so long with other to remain,  
Until the fight were ended now in hand,  
Of which the sequel could not yet be scanned.   

54  
Scarce had the king with words of great persuasion,  
This quarrel new begun, a while appeased,  
But that another strife, by new occasion,  
In Rodomontes' tent them all diseased:  
An hurlyburly and a fierce invasion,  
There grows between two Princes sore displeased,  
Between stout Sacrepant and Rodomount,  
As I to you will presently recount.   

55  
King Sacarpant, as late before I told,  
Helping to arm the cruel Sarzan king,  
With those self arms that Nimrod ware of old,  
From whom this Prince, his pedigree did bring,  
Whiles he (I say) did curiously behold  
His furniture, and every other thing,  
That to his horse, or unto him belong,  
To see they might be sure and firm, and strong.   

56  
While he, that stately steed Frontino viewed,  
That proudly champing stood upon his bit, 
〈…〉 & froena 〈◊〉 spumantia 〈◊〉.   
And all his rains with snowlike some be dewed,  
Without regard, whose hands embroidered it,  
A thought unpleasant in his mind renewed,  
And to his heart did seem full near to sit,  
He thinks this horse was very like in sight,  
To one of his, that Frontlat whilom height.   

57  
And more and more with heedful look still eyeing,  
The marks and shape, and colour of the steed,  
After his long and very curious prying,  
He saw and knew it was his horse indeed:  
Which horse from him (than at Albracca lying)  
Brunello stale, for want of better heed;  
And showed him an unusual cunning knack,  
To steal his horse while he sat on his back.   

58  
Brunello stale that time more things beside,  
By name Orlando's sword height Balisard,  
Angellicas' fair ring, of virtue tried,  
Which she recovered as before you heard:  
Likewise a sword e'en from Marfisas' side:  
This done, he gave Rogero afterward,  
Orlando's sword, and this horse to the same,  
But to Frontino first he changed his name.   

59  
Now then I say, when Sacrepant was sure,  
This horse was Frontlat that sometime was his,  
And that the marks he saw did him assure,  
That he therein took not his mark amiss,  
To hold his peace he could not long endure,  
But said; good sir, know mine Frontino is,  
Stolen late from me, as I can make good proof,  
Although (I trow) mine own word is enough.   

60  
One at Albracca stale from me this steed,  
Yet for our late acquaintance I consent,  
Because I see that now you stand in need,  
That you shall use him now I am content:  
Conditionally, that first it be agreed,  
You shall acknowledge him not yours, but lent,  
Else here I claim him as my goods and chattel,  
And will defend my right in open battle.   

61  
The Sarzan king, that past (I think) in pride,  
All kings and knights that ever carried sword,  
And past (I think) in strength and courage tried,  
All samples that old stories us afford,  
Made answer thus; if any man beside,  
Durst unto me have spoken such a word,  
He should have found, I took it in such scorn,  
He had been better have been speechless borne.   

62  
But for our late begun acquaintance sake,  
I am content this at your hands to bear,  
So as you this, do as a warning take,  
The like attempt hereafter to forbear,  
And if you will but hark what end I make,  
With Mandricardo, than I do not fear,  
But you shall see such sample of my force,  
Shall make you glad, to pray me take your horse.   

63  
Then villainy is courtesy with thee,  
(Saith Sacrepant inflamed with high disdain)  
When you be offered fair you cannot see,  
Wherefore my purpose is, I tell you plain,  
My horse shall service do to none but me,  
And with these hands I will my right maintain: 
A latin proverb Dentibus & v● gutbus.   
And that is more, if these same hands should fail,  
I will defend my right with tooth and nail.   

64  
Thus galling speech, between them multiplying,  
Till each last word, the former worse made,  
At last they sell to acts of flat defying,  
And tone the tother fiercely doth invade:  
Rodomont on his strength and arms relying;  
Yet other so defends him with his blade,  
And makes it so about his head to hover,  
That seems alone his body all to cover.   

65  
e'en as a charter wheel that runs apace, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   
Seems to the eye all solid, firm and sound,  
Although twixt every spoke there is a space,  
Concealed from our sights by running round:  
So Sacrepant seemed armed in that place,  
Though armour then about him none was found,  
So dexterously himself he then besturd,  
As well it stood upon him with his sword.   

66  
But quickly Serpentino and Ferraw,  
With naked sword in hand, stepped them betwixt,  
With others more that present were and saw,  
As friends of either part together mixed.  
Yet them no force, nor prayer could once withdraw,  
Their lofty hearts were on revenge so fixed,  
And wrath had quite so put them out of frame,  
Till Agramant to them in person came.   

67  
Upon the sight of him, their sovereign Lord,  
They both agreed their fury to withhold,  
Who strait persuaded them to good accord,  
And much good counsel to them both he told:  
But peace and good persuasions they abhorred,  
And either on his manhood made him bold;  
Their king doth but among them lose his wind,  
For more and more he froward them doth find.   

68  
By no means Sacrepant will be entreated,  
Unto the Sarzan king his horse to lend,  
Except that he (as I before repeated)  
To borrow it of him, would condescend:  
The tother at this very motion fretted,  
And swears nor heaven, nor he should make him bend,  
To seek to have by prayer or request,  
A thing of which by force he was possessed.   

69  
King Agramant doth ask by what mischance,  
He lost his horse, or who it from him stale?  
The tother opened all the circumstance,  
And blushed for shame, when as he told the tale;  
Namely, how late before he came to France,  
One took him napping, as it did befall,  
And vnderpropt his saddle with four stakes, 
A 〈…〉 & possible to be true.   
And so from under him his courser takes.   

70  
Marfisa, that was come to part this fray,  
Hearing of this stolen horse among the rest,  
Was grieved in mind for why that very day,  
Her sword was stolen as she most truly guessed;  
And then king Sacrepant she knew strait way,  
Whom erst she knew not, and that gallant beast,  
For which of late those two began to fight,  
She knew, and said belonged to him in right.   

71  
While these things passed thus, the standers by,  
That oft hereof had heard Brunello boast,  
Strait in such sort to him did cast their eye,  
As turned greatly to Brunellos cost:  
By which Marfisa plainly did descry  
Him, by whose theft her sword she late had lost,  
To be Brunello, whom she saw there sitting,  
Among great Lords, a place for him unfitting.   

72  
She heard, and much it grieved her to hear,  
How for these thefts and many more beside,  
The king rewarded him, and held him dear,  
Whereas in law for them he should have died:  
These news so greatly changed Marfisas' cheer,  
That hardly she her wrath could longer hide,  
Let Agramant accept it as he will,  
She minds Brunello presently to kill.   

73  
Strait way she armed is from head to heel,  
And makes her page her helmet close to clasp,  
To him she goes, and with her glove of steel,  
She gives him such a blow as made him gasp,  
And while the pain hereof doth make him reel  
With her strong hand, his weak corpse she doth grasp  
As doth the Falcon fierce the Mallard gripe,  
To which a while before she gave a stripe.   

74  
With fury great from thence away she flings,  
While he for help, and oft for mercy cried,  
But will he, nill he, him away she brings,  
Like to a thief with hands together tie,  
Where Agramant among the meaner kings,  
Sat like a judge their causes to descide,  
Then making some obeisance for good manner,  
She speaketh thus in short but stately manner.   

75  
Sir king, I mind to hang this thief your man,  
That by desert should long ere this have died,  
For when he stolen that horse from him, e'en than  
He stolen my sword that hanged by my side:  
But if there any be, that dare or can  
Deny my words, or say that I have lied:  
Here in your presences I do desire,  
To try by combat whether is the liar.   

76  
But lest some should, as some by fortune may,  
Affirm I choose this time to make new strife,  
Alone at such a time, on such a day,  
When other quarrels in the camp are rife,  
I am content a day or two to stay,  
And to prolong this wretched caitiffs' life,  
To see if any man will him defend,  
And after sure to hang him I intent.   

77  
I mean (quoth she) to bring him three mile hence,  
And keep him as a prisoner in yond tower,  
And with his life I promise to dispense,  
For two days space, and longer not an hour,  
If any list to fight in his defence,  
There let him come and try my force and power:  
Away she galloped when she this had said,  
And on her saddle bow the wretch she laid.   

78  
The King was sore displeased at this attempt,  
And much it did his princely mind enrage,  
And minds himself to wreak so great contempt,  
Until Sobrino, 
〈◊〉 a sage 〈◊〉 seller.  one both grave and sage,  
Told him in wisdom he must be content,  
His choler in this matter to assuage;  
And said it were a base part for his highness,  
To fight for one sprung up by theft and slyness.   

79  
Yea though before hand he were sure to win,  
Yet would such victory dishonour have,  
Because a woman vanquished were therein:  
Wherefore (quoth he) if you his life might save,  
With one words speech, to speak that word were sin;  
For sure she doth but law and justice crave:  
And Princes never do themselves more wrong, 
〈…〉 most true 〈◊〉   
Then when they hinder justice, or prolong.   

80  
You may (said he) to satisfy your mind,  
Send after her, in manner of request,  
And promise her, that if just cause you find,  
He shall be hanged, and so all strife may rest;  
But if to this you find her not inclined,  
Give her her will, for so I think 'tis best;  
So that she firmly in your friendship bide,  
Hang up Brunello, and all thieves beside.   

81  
This good direction Agramant obeying,  
Went not himself, nor sent none to molest her,  
But yet according to Sobrinos' saying,  
He sent a messenger that might request her:  
Himself the while doth travel in allaying,  
The tumults fierce that all his camp do pester:  
Pride laughs at this, and Discord so rejoices,  
As up to heaven fly their eternal voices.   

82  
Five men most resolute have set their rest,  
To be the first that will begin the fight,  
The strife so intricate, as would molest  
Apollo to descide or set it right.  
Yet Agramant still strives to do his best,  
And to compound the matter if he might:  
And thus to end the matter he begun,  
Twixt Rodomont and Agricanes son.   

83  
He makes to them this good and friendly motion,  
That sith for Doralice they only strove,  
They would agree to stand at her devotion,  
And let her take her choice which she will have,  
And that once made, to raise no more commotion.  
This pleased them both, to this consent they gave;  
A certain hope and trust them both alluring,  
Each on himself of her firm love assuring.   

84  
The Sarzan king doth think, that needs she must  
Give sentence on his side, and be his own,  
Sith oft he had in turneys and in just,  
Her favours worn, and his affection shown:  
How can she love (thinks he) or put her trust  
In one, whom she scant three days space hath known?  
Not was alone his own opinion such,  
But all the camp beside did think as much.   

85  
They all think Mandricardo overseen,  
And made no question but she would reject him:  
But he that knew what past had them between,  
And found that she did inwardly affect him,  
Was sure, although his service were unseen,  
And done by night, that she would not neglect him:  
Wherefore of her good will he nothing doubting,  
Did scorn their scorns, and flowered at their flouting.   

86  
Thus having put the matter in her choice,  
And put the choice in her own declaration,  
She with a sober look and lowly voice,  
Chose Mandricard, against all expectation:  
The Tartar prince here did much rejoice,  
But all the rest were filled with admiration,  
And Rodomont himself was so astounded.  
As hardly he could lift his eyes from ground.   

87  
But when his wont wrath had driven away  
That bashful shame that died his face with red,  
Unjust he calls that doom, and cursed that day,  
And clapping hand upon his sword, he said,  
This better arbitrate our matters may,  
Than women's foolish doom by fancy led, 
Sentence.   
Who oftentimes are so perverse in choosing,  
They take the worst, the offered best refusing.   

88  
Go then (quoth Mandricard) I little care,  
I hope that fight shall yield you like success:  
And thus again to fight they ready are,  
But Agramant doth soon that rage repress,  
And said, upon this point again to square,  
Quite were against all laws of arms express:  
And Rodomont he sharply then controlled,  
That in his sight was against law so bold.   

89  
The Sarzan king that saw himself that day,  
So noted by those Peers with double scorn,  
Both from his Prince, whom he must needs obey,  
And her to whom so great love he had borne,  
With fury great he flings from thence away,  
And counts himself disgraced and quite forlorn:  
Of all his train two men he only taketh,  
The king, the camp, the place he quite forsaketh.   

90  
And as a Bull his loved herd that leaves, 
Simile.   
By his strong rival forced to be gone; 
Lucan hath the like of 〈◊〉 Bulls in his 2 book of Pharsalia.   
Among the trees all clad with thickest leaves,  
Doth hide himself, and seeks to be alone:  
So he, whom shame of comfort all bereaves,  
Flies sight of men yet still he thinks thereon;  
And chief when he remembers what disgrace,  
His mistress did him in so open place.   

91  
Rogero gladly would have him pursued,  
To get his horse, but yet he doth refrain,  
Lest men should think he had the fight eschude,  
That did twixt Mandricard and him remain:  
But Sacrepant whom no cause doth include,  
Pursues the Sarzan king, the horse to gain:  
And doubtless had outgone him that same day,  
But for mishap that chanced by the way.   

92  
A damsel fell by hap into a river,  
And was in peril great to have been drowned;  
He lighting from his horse back to relieve her,  
Leapt in, and brought her out all safe and sound:  
But doing this good act, her to deliver,  
Scarce all that day his horse again he found,  
His horse got loose, and he with all his cunning,  
Could scantly catch him in six hours running.   

93  
At last with much ado he doth him get,  
And after Rodomont he than doth make;  
But where, and how long after him he met,  
And how the Sarzan did him prisoner take,  
I may not now proceed to tell as yet:  
First tell we what vild words the Sarzan spoke,  
That called his Prince and mistress both unkind,  
And for her fault doth rail of all her kind.   

94  
With scalding sighs, that inward pangs bewrayed,  
He breathes out flames in places where he goes,  
From rocks and caves his plaints doth echo aid,  
And takes compassion on his rueful woes;  
O women's wits, 
Rodoments' 〈◊〉 against women.  how weak you are (he said)  
How soon to change you do yourselves dispose?  
Observers of no faith, nor good direction,  
Most wretched all that trust in your protection.   

95  
Could neither service long, nor sured love,  
By me above a thousand ways declared,  
Thy fickle mind to fastness so far move,  
But wilfully to let thyself be snared?  
If reason could have led thy mind to prove,  
Was Mandricard with me to be compared?  
Hereof can reason be alleged by no man,  
But this alone, my mistress is a woman.   

96  
I think that nature, or some angry God,  
Brought forth this wicked sex on earth to dwell,  
For some great plague, or just deserved rod  
To us, that wanting them had lived well:  
As in the worms, an Adder, Snake and Toad:  
Among the beasts, Bears, Wolves and Tigers sell:  
And makes the air the Fly and Wasp to breed,  
And tars to grow among the better seed.   

97  
Why did not Nature rather so provide,  
Without your help that man of man might come,  
And one be grafted on another's side,  
As are the Apples with the Pear and Plom?  
But Nature can no mean nor rule abide,  
But still the must exceed in all or some;  
Full easy 'tis the cause thereof to render,  
For Nature self is of the woman's gender.   

98  
Yet be not therefore proud and full of scorn,  
O womankind, that men come of your seed;  
The fragrant Rose growth on the pricking thorn, 
Similia. Sentence. Vergol 〈…〉.   
The Lily fair comes of a filthy weed;  
In loathsome soil men sow the wholesome corn;  
The basest mould, the fairest flower doth breed:  
Ungrateful, false and crafty y'are and cruel,  
Borne of our burning hell to be the fuel.   

99  
These words, and like to these the Pagan fierce,  
Doth spend amid his rage and frantic fumes;  
And like a mad man did the same rehearse,  
Sometime in high, oft times in base tunes:  
I tremble to set down in my poor verse,  
The blasphemy that he to speak presumes;  
And writing this I do, know this that I  
Full oft in heart do give my pen the lie.   

100  
But passion did this Pagans sense so blind,  
And left within the same so sharp a sting,  
That he not only blamed his love unkind,  
But also raged against his sovereign King,  
And cursed him, and wished in his mind,  
That fortune so great woes on him might bring,  
That he might lose his state and princely crown,  
And see his country turned quite upsidowne.   

101  
And being to such miseries once brought,  
And with adversity assailed so sore,  
That then by him his freedom might be wrought,  
And that he might his former state restore,  
That Agramant might by such proof be taught,  
Of faithful friends indeed to set more store,  
And learn to know, that such a friend as he,  
Deserved in right and wrong preferred to be.   

102  
Thus blaming oft his Lord, more oft his love,  
To his own native soil his course he bent,  
But changing place, could not his sorrow move,  
Nor travels pain, his pain of mind relent;  
It seemed his horse Frontino well to prove,  
Before his bridle should be drawn, he meant,  
To Sonna he doth ride without a bait,  
And minds fro thence to pass to Provence straight.   

103  
And there to cast away all care and cark,  
And all his anguish quickly to appease,  
For Africa he will himself embark,  
And pass the large Mediterranean seas;  
But, for the weather now waxed dim and dark,  
First in his Inn he minds to take his ease,  
For all the counntry, e'en as far as Spain,  
In Agramantes power did then remain.   

104  
Now he resolves to lodge about the cost,  
And long he is not of a place to seek,  
For strait he was invited by an host,  
To take his house, if so it might him like:  
It pleased the Pagan well, to hear him boast,  
That he had Corsic wine, and French and Greek,  
For though he were a Turk in all the rest,  
Yet did he like French fashion drinking best.   

105  
The pleasant host, that was indeed of those,  
That can with double diligence attend,  
As having saved, amid both friends and foes,  
His goods, and gained by that which both do spend:  
When by that princes view he did suppose  
Him some great man, he strait abroad did send,  
And thither doth his kin and friends request,  
To help to wait, and welcome such a guest.   

106  
But lo, his guest fits musing all apart,  
And of his Mistress runneth all his thought,  
Which (though he would forget) spite of his hart,  
He thinks on still, so strong the fancy wrought:  
The standers by are not so malypart,  
To talk to him, till he occasion sought:  
Which having found, up from his chair he started,  
And salutations to them all imparted.   

107  
Then asked he many questions of them all,  
And as occasion served, discourses varid;  
But still we find, and ever find we shall, 
Sentence.   
By thought of heart the speech of tongue is carid:  
For last to treat of marridge he doth fall,  
And asketh of the men if they be married:  
And if they be, he prayeth them to declare,  
Of their wives truths, what their opinions are.   

108  
Strait all of them made answer they had wives,  
And but mine host, all praised the happy state;  
And said they were the comforts of their lives,  
That draw a happy yoke without debate:  
A playfellow, that far off all grief drives,  
A steward, early that provides and late;  
Both faithful, chaste, and sober, mild, and trusty,  
Nurse to weak age, and pleasure to the lusty.   

109  
Tush (quoth mine host) under your good correction,  
(Most noble guest) these fellows say not right,  
But either with fond love, or foul subjection,  
So blinded are, they take the black for white:  
I once myself, was touched with this infection,  
But now I see, that then I wanted sight:  
And now I know, as being better taught,  
That theirs and mine be all unchaste and nought.   

110  
For as the Phoenix is a bird alone, 
Simile. 〈◊〉 saith, Rara 〈◊〉 in terris 〈…〉.   
And of that kind, the whole world hath no more;  
So (think I) of all wives there is but one,  
That liveth chaste in love and virtues lore:  
He blest may be, that lighteth her upon,  
Small hope (think I) there is in so scant store,  
That many should have one of such a kind,  
Of which in all the world but one I find.   

111  
ay once so blinded was, as now be these,  
Till by good hap unto my house there came;  
A Gentleman of Venice from the seas,  
Francis Valerio was he called by name:  
He knew, and could declare them all with ease,  
All women's wiles, and stories to the same,  
He had of old, and of the later times,  
To show both wives, and single women's crimes.   

112  
He said, and bade me hold it as my creed,  
That all of them are false, if they be trides  
If some seemed chaste, it did of this proceed,  
They had the wit to do, and not be spied,  
And knew, by deep dissembling, and good heed,  
With sober looks their wanton lusts to hide:  
And this to prove he told me such a tale,  
As while I live, I still remember shall.   

113  
And if it like you sir, to lend me ear,  
In my rude fashion, I shall it recite,  
Right glad (quoth Rodomont) by heavens I swear,  
For thou hast hit my present humour right:  
Wherefore (said he) sit down I pray thee there,  
For in thy speech already I delight:  
But hear I end this book, for doubt I have,  
That in his tale, mine host will play the knave.   
In this book we may observe, 
Moral.  how important a thing it is in an army, to have store of good leaders; as Livy noteth of the old remains: Fortiorem rem Romanam ducibus esse, quam militibus. That the strength of the romans, consisted more in Captains, then in soldiers. In quarrels that grew in the camp upon trifling causes; we may note a fault that many of English Servitors (though otherwise brave men) have many times been noted of in their foreign service, where they very seldom agree together, but seek to disgrace one another. In Agramant, we may note a princely majesty, in compounding such controversies. In Rodomonts' bitter invective against women, we may see how passionate extremes love and hate be. In mine Host, we note how such base fellows are still ready to feed the humours of Princes, though it be in shameful vices, or manifest errors.  
Hippolita to whom Marfisa is compared, 
History.  as also the whole country of Amazons, and their laws, I have spoken of elsewhere: this is that Hippolita, that was brought by Theseus to Athens, and there had a son called Hippolytus.  
In that he feigneth, 
Allegory.  that the sprite entering into Doralices horse, conveyed her into the camp of the Pagans, to the great damage of the Christians, we may thereby note how that ghostly enemy doth indeed watch (as the scripture saith) like a roaring Lion whom he may devour, to do mankind all the hurt that may be; and therefore, we must not give him an inch, lest (as the proverb saith) he take an ell.  
In the solemnity of their combats and preparation, 
Allusion.  Fornarius noteth, that he alludes to a ' policy, used by Isabella wife to Ferdinando, king of Spain. She, to make her men of arms more valiant and courageous, caused them to fight with the Moors in the very sight of their Ladies and Mistresses, and partly thereby expulsed the moors out of Granata. But for Doralices rejecting of Rodomont, and choosing Mandricard; it alludes to a like thing, written by Plutarch in his love discourses, where Calysto was taken and Strato refused: of which afterward ensued the death of all three.  
Here end the notes of the xxvij. book.   

  

THE XXVIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fierce Rodomont hears of his prating Host  
A lying tale, to women's great disgrace:  
Unto Algiers he minds to pass in post;  
But by the way he finds more pleasing place,  
Fair Isabella passeth by that cost;  
The Pagan changeth mind, and sues for grace:  
The Hermit warns her keep her vow and oath,  
At which the Pagan Prince is passing wroth.  

1  
YOu Ladies, ye that Ladies hold in prize,  
Give not (perdie) your ear to this same tale,  
The which to telll, mine Host doth here devise,  
To make men think your virtues are but small:  
Though from so base a tongue there can arise,  
To your sweet sex, no just disgrace at all;  

〈◊〉.  Fools will find fault without the cause discerning,  
And argue most, of that they have no learning.   

2  
Turn o'er the leaf, and let this tale alone,  
If any think the sex by this disgraced,  
I write it for no spite, nor malice none,  
But in my Author's book I find it placed;  
My loyal love to Ladies all is known,  
In whom I see such worth to be embraced,  
That theirs I am, and glad would be therefore,  
To show thereof a thousand proofs and more.   

3  
Peruse it not, or if you do it reed,  
Esteem it not, but as an idle table;  
Regard it not, or if you take some heed,  
Believe it not, but as a foolish fable:  
But to the matter, thus it was indeed,  
When all the guests were cheered at the table;  
Near Rodomont (so was the Pagan named)  
down sat mine Host, and thus his tale he framed.   

4  

〈◊〉 of Astol 〈…〉.  Astolfo, whilom king of Lombardy,  
To whom his elder brother left his rain,  
Was in his youth so fresh and fair to see,  
As few to such perfection could attain:  
Appelles' match, or Zeuces he might be,  
That such a shape could paint without much pain, 
Two excellent painters.   
Great was his grace, and all the world so deemed it,  
But yet himself of all men most esteemed it.   

5  
He did not of his sceptre take such pride,  
Nor that degree that common men are under,  
Nor wealth, nor friends, nor meaner kings beside,  
That there about dwelled near or far asunder:  
But of his beauty, which he would not hide,  
At whole rare worth, he thought the world did wonder,  
This was his joy, and all that he intended,  
To hear his comely face and shape commended.   

6  
Among his courtiers, one above the rest,  
Fausto by name; by birth a Roman knight:  
Who hearing oft so praised, as they know best,  
His face, and hands, and all that praise he might,  
The king did bid him tell at his request;  
Near or far of, if he had seen that wight,  
That in all parts so perfectly was wrought:  
But he was answered as he little thought.   

7  
My Liege (quoth Fausto) plainly to declare,  
Both what myself doth see, and others say,  
But few with your rare beauty can compare,  
And that same few were none, were one away:  
jocundo height, a man of beauty rare,  
And brother mine, excepting whom, I may  
Prefer your grace before all other creatures,  
But he doth match or pass you for his features.   

8  
The king to hear such tidings strange it thought,  
As having still till that day kept the prize,  
And with a deep desire strait ways he sought,  
To know this man, and see him with his eyes:  
In fine, with Fausto so far forth he wrought,  
To bring him to his court he must devise:  
Although (quoth he) to bring my brother to it,  
I shall be sure of work enough to do it.   

9  
The cause is this, my brother never went  
Forth of the gates of Rome scant all his life,  
And such small goods as Fortune hath him lent,  
He hath enjoyed in quiet, free from strife,  
Left by our sire, and them he hath not spent,  
Nor yet increased, his gains are not so rife:  
And he will think it more to go to Pavy,  
Then some would think to th' Indies in a Navy.   

10  
But I shall find it hardest when I prove,  
To draw him from his loving wife away;  
To whom he is so linked in chains of love,  
That all is vain, if once his wife say nay:  
But yet your grace is so far all above,  
You shall command me, certes all I may.  
Thanks (quoth the king) and addeth such reward,  
As might have moved any to regard.   

11  
Away he posts, arriving in few days  
At Rome, and to his brother's house he went,  
And with such earnest words his brother prays,  
That to return with him he doth consent:  
Also his sister's love he so alleys,  
That she doth hold her peace, as half content,  
Beside great thanks, laying before her eyes,  
Preferments large, that hereof might arise.   

12  
jocundo now resolved to go his way,  
Gets men and horse against he should depart,  
Sets forth himself with new and rich array,  
As still we see nature adorned by art.  
His wife at night in bed, at board by day;  

Sentence.  With watery eyes to show a sorry hart,  
Complains his absence will so sore her grieve,  
Till his return she doubts she shall not live.   

13  
Ay me, the thought (quoth she) makes me so afraid,  
That scant the breath abideth in my breast;  
Peace my sweet love and life (jocundo said)  
And weeps as fast, and comforts her his best:  
So may good fortune ay my journey aid,  
As I return in threescore days at least:  
Nor will I change the day I set thee down,  
No though the king would great me half his crown   

14  
All this might not assuage this woman's pain,  
Two months were long, yea to to long she cries,  
Needs must I die before you come again,  
Nor how to keep my light can I devise:  
The doleful days and nights I shall sustain,  
From meat my mouth, from sleep will keep mine eyes:  
Now was jocundo ready to repent,  
That to his brother he had given consent.   

15  
About her neck a jewel rich she ware,  
A cross all set with stone in gold well tried,  
This relic late, a Boem Pilgrim bare,  
And gave her father other things beside:  
Which costly things he kept with no small care,  
Till coming from jerusalem he died:  
And her of all his goods his heir he makes,  
This precious cross to her goodman she takes,   

16  
And prays him for her sake to wear that token,  
And think on her: the man that was most kind,  
Received it with more joy than can be spoken,  
Although he needed not be put in mind,  
For why no time, nor no state sound nor broken,  
Nor absence long, a mean should ever find,  
To quail his love, not only while his breath  
Maintains his life, but neither after death.   

17  
That very night that went before the morrow,  
That they had pointed surely to depart,  
jocundos wife was sick, and sounds for sorrow,  
Amid his arms, so heavy was her hart;  
All night they wake, and now they bid Godmorrow  
And give their last farewell, and so they part;  
jocundo on his way with all his train,  
His loving wife doth go to bed again.   

18  
Scant had jocundo road two mile forthright,  
But that his cross, now came into his mind,  
Which on his pillow he had laid last night,  
And now for haste had left the same behind:  
He would devise to 'scuse it if he might,  
But no excuse sufficient could he find:  
But that his love must needs be much suspected,  
To find the precious jewel so neglected.   

19  
When no excuse within his mind could frame,  
But that all seemed frivolous and vain;  
To send his man, he counted it a shame,  
To go himself it was but little pain:  
He stayed, and when his brother did the same,  
Ride soft (quoth he) till I return again:  
For home again I must, there is no nay,  
But I will overtake you on the way.   

20  
Th'affair is such as none can do but I,  
But doubt you not, I will return as fast;  
Away he spurs as hard as he could hy,  
Alone without or man or page, for haste:  
Now had the suns new rising cleared the sky,  
With brightest beams, ear he the stream had passed,  
He hies him home, and finds his wife in bed,  
Full sound asleep, such cares were in her head.   

21  
He draws the curtain softly without sound,  
And saw that he would little have suspected;  
His chaste and faithful yoke-fellow he found  
Yoked with a knave, all honesty neglected:  
Th'Adulterer, though sleeping very sound,  
Yet by his face was easily detected:  
A beggars brat, bred by him from his cradle,  
And now was riding on his master's saddle.   

22  
Now if he stood amazed and discontent,  
Believe it ye, to try that would be loath;  
For he that tries it, doubtless will repent,  
As poor jocundo did, who was so wroth,  
That out he drew his sword, with just intent,  
For their ungrateful act to kill them both:  
But lo, the love he bore her, did withstand,  
Against his heart, to make him hold his hand.   

23  
O ribald love, that such a stave couldst make,  
Of one that now was subject to thy force;  
He could not break her sleep for pities sake.  
That broke all bonds of faith without remorse;  
But back he goes before they did awake,  
And from his house he gets him to his horse:  
Love so pricks him, and he so pricks his steed,  
He overtakes his company with speed.   

24  
His look is sad, all changed is his cheer,  
Full heavy was his heart they well perceived,  
They see no cause of grief, nor guess they near,  
And they that guess most likely are deceived;  
They thought he went to Rome, but you do hear  
How at Cornetto he his hurt received:  
Each man espied that love procured that passion,  
But none descried the manner nor the fashion.   

25  
His brother deems that all his grief doth grow,  
Because his loving wife is left alone;  
But he a clean contrary cause doth know,  
Her too much company did cause his moan:  
He bends his brows, his looks he casts allow,  

〈…〉 saith 〈◊〉 Clodius, 〈…〉 ulcere  With pouting lips, and many a grievous groan;  
In vain doth Faustus' comfort seek to bring him,  
For why he knows not where the shoe doth wring him.   

26  
He gives a salve afore the sore is found,  
His plasters are as poison to the smart;  
He seeks to heal, and wider makes the wound,  
He names his wife, but her name kills his hart:  
Gone was his taste, his sleeps do grow unsound,  
Nature decayth, and little helpeth art;  
And that fair face that erst was of such fame,  
Is now so changed, it seemeth not the same.   

27  
His eyes are sunk so deep into his head,  
It made his nose seem bigger than it should,  
His flesh doth shrink, his bones do seem to spread,  
He was so changed, as more cannot be told;  
At last an ague makes him keep his bed,  
And bait at Inns more often than he would:  
His fair complexion now is pale and withered,  
Much like the Rose that yesterday was gathered.   

28  
With this mishap was Fdustus sore aggrieved,  
Not only for his brother's woeful state,  
But fearing of his Prince to be reproved,  
Unto whose grace he undertook so late,  
To show the goodliest man, as he believed,  
Now grown uncouth, by force of inward bate:  
Yet as they could, their way they so contrived,  
That at the last in Pavia they arrived.   

29  
He would not straightway show him to the King,  
Lest every one might deem his judgement small,  
But sent by letters notice of the thing,  
And what mishap his brother was befall;  
How scant alive he could him thither bring,  
A secret grief so greatly did him gall,  
And with an ague pulled him down so sore,  
He seemed not now the man he was before.   

30  
And yet behold this noble King is glad,  
That he is come, and means to make him cheer,  
As if he were the dearest friend he had,  
So sore he had desired to see him hear;  
Nor would the worthy natured Prince be sad,  
In praise of beauty to have found a Pear;  
He knew jocundos beauty had excelled,  
But that by this disease it was expelled.   

31  
He placeth him to his own lodging nigh,  
He visits him each day and every hour,  
Great plenty of prou●sio the doth buy,  
To welcome him he bendeth all his power:  
But still jocundo languishing doth lie,  
His wives misdeeds makes all his sweet seem sour,  
No songs, no sights, which oft he heard or saw,  
One dram of this his dolour could withdraw.   

32  
Fast by his lodging was, amongst the rest,  
A fair large room, which very few did use,  
Here would he walk, as one that did detest  
All pleasing sights, and comforts all refuse:  
Here the wide wound he bore within his breast,  
With thousand thoughts unpleasant he renews;  
Yet here he found, which few would have believed,  
A remedy for that which had him grieved.   

33  
For at the upper end of this old hall,  
There was a place of windows void, and light,  
Save that the lime new molten from the wall,  
Let in a little beam that shined bright,  
Here did he see, which some may think a tale,  
A very strange and unexpected sight,  
He heard it not, but saw it in his view,  
Yet could he scant believe it should be trow.   

34  
For at the chink was plainly to be seen,  
A chamber hanged with fair and rich array,  
Where none might come but such as trusty been,  
The Princess here in part doth spend the day,  
And here he saw a Dwarf embrace the Queen,  
And strive a while, and after homely play:  
His skill was such, that ere they went asunder,  
The Dwarf was got aloft, and she lay under.   

35  
jocundo standeth still as one amazed,  
Supposing sure that he had seen a vision,  
But seeing plain when he a while had gazed,  
It was an act, and not an apparition:  
Good God (said he) are this Queen's eyes so dazed,  
To love a dwarf, more worthy of derision?  
Whose husband is a Prince of worthy fame,  
So brave a man, such love? now fie for shame.   

36  
He now began to hold his wife excused,  
His anger now a little was relented:  
And though that she her body had abused,  
And to her servant had so soon consented;  
Not her for this, but he the sex accused,  
That never can with one man be contented; 
Junenal saith of one Iberina. unus Iberinae vir suffuit? cuius illud, Extorquebus ut haec oci●o contenta sit uno.   
If all (quoth he) with one like stain are spotted,  
Yet on a monster, mine was not besotted.   

37  
The day ensuing he returned thither,  
And saw the dwarf courageous still and jolly;  
Eke he another day repaired hither,  
And still he found the Queen committing folly:  
He oft returns, he finds them oft together,  
They cease not work, on days profane nor holy:  
Yea which was strange, the goodly Queen complained  
That of the dwarf she found she was disdained.   

38  
One day when in the corner he had stayed,  
He sees her come all sad and malcontent,  
Because the dwarf his coming still delayed,  
For whom of purpose twice before she sent,  
Once more she sends, this answer brings the maid,  
Forsooth unto his play he is so bend,  
That for mistrust at Chess to lose a shilling,  
To come to you the apes face is not willing.   

39  
jocundo, who before had still been sad,  
Upon this sight became of better cheer;  
The pains, the plaints, the cloudy storms he had,  
Away were blown, the coast began to clear:  
Most ruddy fair he cheerful grew and glad,  
That angelic his beauty did appear,  
So as the King and others thought it strange,  
In so short time to find so great a change.   

40  
Now as the King desired much to know,  
The mean whereby his hurt so soon was healed,  
No less jocundo did desire to show,  
And would not have the thing from him concealed,  
So as his choler might no greater grow,  
Then his had been, when as it were revealed:  
But first he made him swear on his salvation,  
Upon the parties to use no castigation.   

41  
He made him swear, for aught he heard or saw,  
Wherewith his mind might fortune be diseased,  
Yet from his choler so much to withdraw,  
As that in show he may not seem displeased,  
Nor punish it by might nor yet by law,  
Not first nor last, but hold himself appeased,  
So as th'offenders might not have suspected,  
That their misdeeds were to his grace detected.   

42  
The King so sure, by oath so solemn bound,  
As one that little thought his Queen so stained,  
jocundo first his own grief doth expound,  
Why he so long so doleful had remained,  
And in whose arms his own wife he had found,  
And how the grief thereof so sore him pained,  
Had not that salve uplookt for been applied,  
Of that conceit no doubt he should have died.   

43  
But lying in your highness house forlorn,  
I saw (quoth he) that minisht much my moan;  
For though it grieved me to wear a home,  
It pleased me well, I ware it not alone:  
This said, he brought him where the wall was torn,  
And showed him that, that made his heart to groan,  
For why the dwarf did manage with such skill,  
Though she curvets, he keeps his stirrup still.   

44  
Much did the King this foul prospect mislike,  
Believe my word I say, I need not swear,  
Horn wood he was, he was about to strike  
All those he met, and his own flesh to tear;  
His promise to have broken he was like,  
If of his oath he had not had some fear;  
But unrevenged all must now be borne,  
For on his Agnus Dei he had sworn.   

45  
Now to jocundo gently he doth speak,  
Good brother mine, advise me what to do, 
He calls 〈◊〉 ●●ther, because 〈◊〉 were back of 〈◊〉 soci●●●.   
Sith I am bound by oath I may not wreak  
The fact, with such revenge as longs thereto;  
Forsooth let's try if others be as weak,  
(jocundo said) and make no more ado:  
This was the counsel he did give the King,  
Into their order other men to bring.   

46  
We both are young, and of such pleasing hue,  
Not to be matched with such another pair;  
What she will be so obstinately true,  
But will be won with youth, and being fair?  
If youth and beauty both do miss their due,  
The want herein our purses shall repair:  
Let us not spare our beauty, youth and treasure,  
Till of a thousand we have had our pleasure.   

47  
To see strange countries placed far apart,  
Of other women eke to make some trial,  
Will ease the pain that whilom pierced our hart,  
And salve out sore, there can be no denial:  
The King that longed to ease his new found smart,  
Consented strait, and to avoid espial,  
Himself, the Knight, two pages, and no more,  
Out of the Realm forthwith disguised go.   

48  
Away they passed through Italy and France,  
And though the Flemish and the English land,  
And those whose beauties highest did advance,  
Those still they found most ready to their hand:  
They give, they take, so lucky is their chance,  
They see their stock at one stay still to stand:  
Some must be wood forsooth they were so chaste,  
And some there were that wooed them as fast.   

49  
In countries some a month or two they tarried,  
In some a week, in others but a day;  
In all of them they find the women married,  
Like to their wives, too gentle to say nay:  
At last, because they doubt to have miscarried,  
They mean to leave this sport and go their way;  
They found it full of danger and debate,  
To keep their standings in another's gate. 
Sentence.    

50  
They do agree to take by common voice,  
Some one whose shape and face may please them both,  
In whom without suspect they might rejoice;  
For wherefore (quoth the King) should I be loath,  
To have yourself a partner in my choice?  
I must have one, and I believe for troth,  
Among all women kind there is not one,  
That can content herself with one alone.   

51  
But of some one, we two might take our pleasure,  
And not enforce ourselves beyond our ease,  
But as they say, 
〈◊〉.  take meat and drink, and leisure,  
And by our doings, other not displease;  
Well might that woman think she had a treasure,  
That had us two, her appetite to please;  
And though to one man faithful none remain,  
No doubt but faithful they would be to twain.   

52  
The Roman youth much praised the Prince's mind,  
And to perform it, seemed very feign,  
Away they posted as they had assigned,  
By town and city, over hill and plain,  
Till at the last a pretty piece they find,  
The daughter of an Innkeeper in Spain,  
A girl of person tall, and fair of favour,  
Of comely presence, and of good behaviour.   

53  
She was new entering in the flower and pride,  
Of those well pleasing youthful years and tender,  
Her father many children had beside,  
And poverty had made his portion slender,  
And for them all unable to provide,  
It made him soon consent, away to send her;  
The price agreed, away the strangers carry her,  
Because the father money wants to marry her. 
〈◊〉 that 〈…〉 makes some 〈◊〉.    

54  
In concord great she did with them remain,  
Who took their pleasure one and one by turn,  
As bellows do, 
〈◊〉 of a smith 〈◊〉.  where Vulcan's wont pain,  
By mutual blast doth make the metal burn:  
Their meaning is, now they had traveled Spain,  
By Syphax realm to make their home return;  
And having left Valenza out of sight,  
At fair Zativa they did lodge at night.   

55  
The masters go abroad to view the town,  
And first the Churches for devotions sake;  
And then the monuments of most renown,  
As travelers a common custom take:—  
The girl within the chamber sat her down,  
The men are busied, some the beds do make,  
Some care to dress their wearid horse, and some  
Make ready meat against their masters come.   

56  
In this same house the girl a Greek had spied,  
That in her father's house a boy had been,  
And slept full often sweetly by her side,  
And much good sport had passed them between;  
Yet fearing lest their love should be descried,  
In open talk they durst not to be seen,  
But when by hap the pages down were gone,  
Old love renewed, and thus they talk thereon.   

57  
The Greek demands her whither she was going,  
And which of these two great estates her keeps?  
She told them all, she needs no further wooing,  
And how a night between them both she sleeps:  
Ah (quoth the Greek) thou tellest my undoing,  
My dear Fiametta, and with that he weeps; 
Fiametta.   
With these two Lords wilt thou from Spain be banished?  
Are all my hopes thus into nothing vanished?   

58  
My sweet designments turned are to sour,  
My service long, finds little recompense;  
I made a stock according to my power,  
By hoarding up my wages, and the pence  
That guests did give, that came in lucky hour;  
I meant ere long to have departed hence,  
And to have asked thy fires good will to marry thee,  
And that obtained, unto a house to carry thee.   

59  
The wench of her hard fortune doth complain,  
And saith that now she doubts he sues too late:  
The Greek doth sigh and sob, and part doth feign,  
And shall I die (quoth he) in this estate?  
Let me enjoy thy sweetness once again,  
Before my days draw to their doleful date●  
One small refreshing ere we quite depart,  
Will make me die with more contented hart.   

60  
The girl with pity moved, thus replies,  
Think not (quoth she) but I desire the same;  
But hard it is, among so many eyes,  
Without incurring punishment and shame.  
Ah (quoth the Greek) some means thou wouldst devise,  
If thou but felt a quarter of my flame,  
To meet this night in some convenient place,  
And be together but a little space.   

61  
Tush (answered she) you sue now out of season,  
For every night I lie betwixt them two,  
And they will quickly fear and find the treason,  
Sith still with one of them I have to do.  
Well (quoth the Greek) I could refute that reason,  
If you would put your helping hand thereto,  
You must (said he) some pretty excuse devise,  
And find occasion from them both to rise.   

62  
She first bethinks herself, and after bad  
He should return when all were found asleep,  
And learned him, who was thereof right glad,  
To go and come, what order he should keep.  
Now came the Greek as he his lesson had,  
When all was hushed, as soft as he could creep,  
First to the door, which opened when he pushed,  
Then to the chamber, which was softly rushed.   

63  
He takes a long and leisurable stride, 
Imitanon of Ovid in 1. de fallu. Surget amans 〈…〉, vestigia furum. Suspenso 〈…〉 gradus.   
And longest on the hinder foot he stayed,  
So soft he treads, although his steps were wide,  
As though to tread on eggs he were afraid;  
And as he goes, he gropes on either side,  
To find the bed, with hands abroad displayed,  
And having found the bottom of the bed,  
He creepeth in, and forward goeth his head.   

64  
Between Fiametta's tender thighs he came,  
That lay upright, as ready to receive,  
At last they fell unto their merry game,  
Embracing sweetly now to take their leave;  
He road in post, ●e can he bait for shame,  
The beast was good, and would not him deceive,  
He thinks her pace so easy and so sure,  
That all the night to ride he could endure.   

65  
jocundo and the King do both perceive  
The bed to rock, as oft it comes to pass,  
And both of them one error did deceive,  
For either thought it his companion was:  
Now hath the Greek taken his latter leave,  
And as he came, he back again doth pass,  
And Phoebus' beams did now to shine begin,  
Fiametta rose and let the pages in.   

66  
Now with jocundo 'gan the King to jest,  
Brother (quoth he) I doubt we do you wrong,  
It were more time for you to take your rest,  
That have this night a journey road so long.  
jocundo answers him again in jest,  
Oh for you do mistake, you sing my song;  
Take you your ease, and much good do your grace,  
That all this night have rid a hunting pace.   

67  
ay, quoth the King? I would in faith I swear,  
Have lent my dog a course among the rest,  
But that I found yourself so busy were,  
And road so hard, you could not spare the beast.  
Well (said the Knight) it seemeth me to bear,  
Although you break your promise and behest,  
Yet privy quips and taunts there needed none,  
You might have bid me let the wench alone.   

68  
One urged so far, the tother so replied,  
That unto bitter words their tongues were moved,  
Scarce one forba●e to say the tother lied;  
And plain to try whose truth should be reproved,  
They called the girl, the matter to decide,  
Who was afraid, as welled her behoved;  
And she must tell, they standing face to face,  
Which of them two deserved this disgrace.   

69  
Tell (quoth the King) with grim and angry sight,  
Not fear not him nor me, but tell us true,  
Which of us two it was, that all this night  
So gallantly performed all his due.  
Thus either deeming he did hold the right,  
They looked both, which should be found untrue: 
Her 〈…〉 made her think the fault found.   
Fiametta lowly laid herself on ground,  
Doubting to die because her fault was found.   

70  
She humbly pardon crane's for her offence,  
And that they pity would her woeful case,  
That she with pity moved to recompense  
His love, that lasted had no little space,  
And who it was, she told them, and of whence,  
Had this ill luck in this unlucky place,  
How she had hoped that though they happed to wake,  
Yet for his partner either would it take.   

71  
The King and his companion greatly mused,  
When they had heard the practice so detected,  
And their conceits not little were confused,  
To hear a hap so strange and unexpected:  
And though no two were ever so abused,  
Yet had they so all wrathful mind rejected,  
That down they lay, and fell in such a laughter,  
They could not see nor speak an hour after.   

72  
And when at last their stomachs and their eyes  
Watered and ached, they laughed had so much,  
Such shifts (quoth they) these women will devise,  
Do what we can, their chastity is such:  
If both our cares could not for one suffice,  
That lay betwixt us both, and did us touch,  
If all our hairs were eyes, yet sure they said,  
We husbands of our wives should be betrayed.   

73  
We had a thousand women proved before,  
And none of them denied our request,  
Nor would and if we tried ten thousand more,  
But this one trial passeth all the rest:  
Let us not then condemn our wives so sore,  
That are as chaste and honest as the best,  
Sith they be as all other women be,  
Let us turn home, and well with them agree.   

74  
When on this point they both were thus resolved,  
They gave the Greek, Fiametta for his wife,  
And tide the knot that cannot be dissolved,  
With portion large, to keep them all their life:  
Themselves went home, and had their sins absolved,  
And take again their wives, and end all strife.  
And thus mine Host the pretty story ended,  
With which he prayeth them not to be offended.   

75  
The Pagan Prince, of whom I erst made mention,  
Was pleased with this story passing well,  
And heard the same with heed and great attention,  
And praised it, and said it did excel,  
And swears he thought no wit nor no invention,  
No pen could write, no tongue attain to tell,  
By force of eloquence, or help of art,  
Of women's treacheries the hundredth part.   

76  
But at the table sat another guest,  
Of riper years, 
A 〈…〉 women.  and judgement more discreet,  
Who such untruths to hear could not digest,  
And see their praises so trod under feet;  
Wherefore his speech he presently addressed  
Unto his host, and said, we daily meet  
With slanders, and with lying fables told,  
And this is one, to say I dare be bold.   

77  
Nor thee, nor him that told thee, trust I will,  
No though in other things he gospel spoke,  
I dare affirm it well, that evil will,  
Not any trial that himself could make,  
Moved him of all the kind to speak so ill,  
Belike for some one naughty woman's sake:  
But he that would enter in women's praise,  
On higher steps aloft his stile might raise.   

78  
But tell me now, if any one of you  
That married are, have not awry yet stepped?  
No scarce a man, that hath not been untrue,  
And with some other woman hath not slept:  
Nay that is more, they woe, they seek, they sew,  
They try, they tempt those that be safest kept,  
Yet women seek not after men I ween,  
(I mean not such as common harlots been.)   

79  
Surely the man on whom your tale you father, 
Ovid saith. 〈…〉.   
Cannot himself, nor other men excuse,  
Who still to take an unknown piece had rather,  
Although there own, were better far to choose:  
But if themselves were wood, I surely gather,  
Such courtesies, they never would refuse,  
But rather strain themselves beyond their might,  
Such kindness, with more kindness to requite.   

80  
But be't some woman breaks chaste wedlock's laws,  
And leaves her husband, and becomes unchaste,  
Yet commonly it is not without cause,  
She sees her man, in sin his substance waste;  
She feels that he, his love from her withdraws,  
And hath on some (perhaps) less worthy placed,  
Who strikes with sword, the scabbard then may strike,  
And sure love craveth love, 
Sentence.  like asketh like.   

81  
Indeed in their behalf, agree would I,  
That all wives that adultery do commit,  
Should by a law, condemned be to die,  
If so their husband's guiltless be of it.  
But if that men unpunished walk awry,  
doubtless in sense and reason 'tis not fit,  
The weaker sex should for this sin be vexed,  
Do as you would be done to, 
Sentence.  saith the text.   

82  
Yet when a man is bend to speak his worst,  
That in despite he can of women say,  
He calls them but incontinent and cursed,  
No greater fault, he to their charge can lay:  
To rob, to spoil, houses to break and burst,  
Whole Cities, towns, and countries to betray,  
Usure, murder, all such sins appear,  
Proper to men, women of them are clear.   

83  
This said this grave wise man, and would have told  
Some story to the same, his speech to verify,  
Of women that had lived till they were old,  
Chastely and virtuously, and with sincerity,  
But that the cruel Turk, did him behold,  
With so grim look as did the poor man terrify,  
And made him hold his peace with threats & terror,  
Yet hating inwardly the Pagans error.   

84  
These brabbles ended, night on them did creep,  
To rest they went having their bodies fed:  
But Rodomont scant all the night could sleep,  
For cares, that ran still in his troubled head,  
His unkind mistress him doth waking keep,  
She troubles him, whether he lie on bed,  
Whether he go, or ride, or sit, or stand,  
Whether it be, by water or by land.   

85  
But though himself could take but little rest,  
Yet of his horse he takes no little care,  
Both that he should be diligently dressed,  
And have good provender, to mend his fare:  
To go by water now he thought it best,  
Himself to ease, and his good horse to spare,  
That horse he got, as he might justly vaunt,  
Spite of Rogero, and of Sacrepant.   

86  
He takes a bark, 
Horace xvi. Ode 2 〈◊〉. Quid 〈…〉 cadentes sole 〈…〉 quu 〈◊〉 Se quoquefugit. Scandis 〈◊〉 virto sa naves cura: nec 〈◊〉 equitum 〈◊〉.  and down the pleasant stream  
Of Sonna he doth pass, with wind and ore,  
Great hast he makes, to get to his own Ream,  
But changing place doth help him near the more;  
In sleep, of her unkindness he doth dream,  
A wake, he sighs and still renews the sore:  
To talk was best, and yet not much the better,  
Say what he list, yet cannot he forget her.   

87  
Annoyed by boat, again he taking land,  
Vienna, Lions, and Valenza passed,  
(All which then were in Agramantes hand,  
His late good hap, had so them all aghast:  
To Aquamort, he turns on his right hand,  
And thence he will to Algiers turn in haste,  
And in his way, his journey to abridge,  
He past avignon, at the sumptuous bridge.   

88  
Not far from Mompelier a town he saw,  
Of Bacchus, 
That is to say, stored with corn and wine.  and of Ceres well beloved.  
Though then so spoiled by soldiers that for awe,  
The dwellers all, themselves ●ro thence removed:  
Also there was a Church for Christian law,  
But yet the Priests (in this to be reproved)  
To save themselves, their Church had quite forsaken,  
So as the same by Rodomont was taken.   

89  
This seat this place, did so the Pagan please,  
That here he mind: to make his firm abode;  
For of the tone side, he might see the seas,  
On other side, the ground with corn well load;  
Here all provisions he might find with ease,  
Here he doth cause his men his stuff unload,  
And makes that Church (oh horrible abute)  
Serve him, to his profane ungodly use.   

90  
Now standing pensive, in this pleasing place,  
As still he used, he saw a Lady fair,  
(Though mourning, yet most full of pleasing grace) 
Isabella.   
Who with a Frire, made thither her repair:  
A goodly horse, they led a soft flow pace,  
And as they went, he taught her many a praire:  
That horse did bear a coffin on his back,  
All overspread in mourning sort, with black.   

91  
methink by this description you may guess,  
Who this same Frire, and who this damtell is,  
Yet for more plainness sake, I will express  
Her name, lest any may the matter miss:  
'twas Isabella, who did late profess,  
That state that leadeth straight to heau'nlie bliss, 
Christianity.   
He was the Frire, that to that mind converted her,  
When as despair, had almost quite subverted her.   

92  
Within the mourning coffin was enclosed,  
His corpse, whom she so loved alive and dead,  
And though to grief she seemed all disposed,  
Though all in black, she went from foot to head,  
Yet in that woeful show there was disclosed,  
So worthy grace, as in the Pagan bred  
A fancy, moving such an alteration,  
As made him change his first determination.   

93  
For where before he did dispraise and scorn  
All women, now again he doth commend  
That sex, that doth indeed the world adorn:  
His second love to place he doth intend  
On this, sith that his first hath him forlorn;  
Here now he hopeth all his woe to end, 
Simile. 〈…〉 pesius.   
And with this passion to drive out the tother,  
As men do drive out one nail with another.   

94  
And strait in mildest manner that he can,  
Saluting her, he asked what cauld her pain?  
And she the woeful tale to tell began,  
How her true love by Mandricard was slain,  
For whose sake she would never marry man,  
But serve God all her life that doth remain,  
The Pagan laughs at that the damsel faith,  
As one that knows no God, and hath no faith.   

95  
And greatly he her good intent controlled,  
Affirming her to merit as great blame,  
As doth the miser, that hoards up his gold,  
And neither doth himself employ the same,  
And yet from those that would, doth it withhold:  
So shut not up yourself (quoth he) for shame;  
Fierce Lions, Bears, and serpents that have stings,  
Should be shut up, not fair and harmless things.   

96  
The godly Frire, that took no little care,  
Lest this ill speech might turn her to small good,  
With new exhortings, bade her to be ware,  
That such enticements strongly be withstood:  
And for that end, forthwith he doth prepare,  
A sumptuous mess of ghostly inward food:  
But this vile Pagan did no sooner taste it,  
But up again, his squeamish stomach cast it.   

97  
And seeing that the speeches of this Frire,  
(Whom he could make by no means hold his peace)  
Seemed greatly to contrary his desire;  
Wrath kindled, and at last did so increase,  
That this poor priest got but a forie hire.  
But he are a while my story now shall cease,  
Lest my mishap or punishment be such,  
As was this Priests, for talking overmuch.   
In jocundo and Astolfo both, may be noted the vanity of beauty in men, and how weak a protection it is, 
Moral.  against the blow that never smarteth, as some have termed it. ●urder, in jocundos wife, that after all the great protestations of kindness, was taken in bed with his man, we may note the fraud as well as frailty, of some of that sex. In Fiametta, that lying between a king and a knight, took up a Tapster into her bed, I cannot tell what to note, but that which Ovid faith. 
Non caret effectu, quod volvere duo.  
Nought can restrain, consent of twain.   
In the Queen of Lombardie, that bestowed her love so basely, we may see that no state nor degree is privileged from shame and slander, except virtue and grace from above, do keep them from such enormous offences. Further we may see it is a very desper at enterprise, to think by any restraint, to keep an unchaste woman from putting in practise her lewd desires. Lastly the defence of women, by the grave wise man, too truly proveth, that though many women are bad, yet many men are worse, and therefore if every one would mend one (as the Proverb saith) all shall be mended. And as for Rodomonts' new love, it shows that no passion grows so strong by accident, to remove & take away a natural disposition.  
History nor Allegory, 
Allusion.  not scant any thing that is good, can be picked out of this bad book: but for Allusions they come in my mind so plentifully, as I can scant tell how to make an end when I am once entered into them: Only I will touch one or two, (so fill up this page withal) that allude to that point of jocundos patience, in leaving the adulterer unpunished, and his wife reproved, taking her in so shameful an act. As I have heard of one of honest calling (But nameless he, for blameless he must be) that finding one in bed with his wife, and seeing evidently, that she had played false at tables, and borne a man to many, drew out his dagger resolutely, and swore a great oath, that if he had not been his very friend, he would at least have killed him: and when he had done he put up his dagger again, and went about some other business. Another, hearing one was newly gone out of his house, that had done that for him, which no body desires to do by a deputy, took his sword and his buckler and followed in a great rage, and having overtaken him, laid adultery to his charge: the man so hotly pursued, and so hardly charged, confessed it was true: with which the tother (being fully satisfied, as it seemed with his honest confession) left him, swearing if he had denied it, he would not so have put it up.  
Here end the notes of the xxviij. book.   

  

THE XXIX. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fair Isabella, to lose her head is glad,  
To save her chastity from Pagan's might:  
To pacify her ghost, the Pagan sad,  
Doth make a bridge at which falls many a knight:  
Orlando cometh thither, being mad,  
And in the water both together light.  
From thence the madman onward still proceeds,  
And by the way doth strange and monstrous deeds.  

1  
OH thoughts of men, unconstant and unstable,  
As subject unto change, as Western wind,  
In all designments fond, and variable,  
But chiefly those, that love breeds in the mind:  
Lo he that late devild all he was able,  
To slander and deface all women kind,  
Yet now with them whom he so sore revild,  
e'en on the sudden he is reconciled.   

2  
Indeed (most noble Dames) I am so wroth,  
With this vile Turk, for this his wicked sin,  
For speaking so great slander and untruth,  
Of that sweet sex, whose grace I feign would win,  
That till such time, he shall confess the troth,  
And what a dammed error he was in:  
I shall him make be so in conscience stoung,  
As he shall tear his flesh and bite his tongue.   

3  
But with what folly he was then possessed,  
The sequel of the matter plain doth show;  
For he that yesterday himself professed,  
To all the kind, a sworn and open foe:  
Now to this stranger, one in state distressed;  
Whose birth, whose kin, whose name he doth not know,  
With one small glance, & sober cast of ●y,  
Was so enthralld, he woos her by and by.   

4  
And as new fancy doth his heart inflame,  
So to new speech it doth his tongue direct,  
A new discourse, new reasons he doth frame,  
With great persuasions, but to small effect:  
For still the godly Frire refutes the same,  
Exhorting her such speeches to neglect,  
And fast to hold her purpose good and holly  
Of serving God, and leaving worldly folly.   

5  
He faith the way of death is large and spacious, 
Sen●●●   
But that to life is strait and full of pain.  
But Rodomont that saw him so audacious,  
In spite of him this doctrine to maintain,  
Steps to him, and with hand and tongue ungracious,  
First bids him get him to his cell again,  
Then his long beard, grown on his aged chin,  
All at one pull, he pilleth from the skin.   

6  
And so far forth his wrath and fury grew,  
He wrings his neck, 
Simile.  as pincers wring a nail,  
And twice or thrice about his head him threw,  
As husband men that thrash, 
Simile.  do toss a flail:  
Reports most divers afterwards ensue,  
But which be true, and which of truth do fail,  
Is hard to say: some say he was so battered,  
That all his limbs about a rock were scattered.   

7  
Some say that to the sea he hurled him,  
Though diverse furlongs distant from the place,  
And that he died, because he could not swim:  
Some others tell, some saint did him that grace,  
To save his life, and heal each broken limb,  
And to the shore did bring him in short space.  
The likelihood hereof, who list may way,  
For now of him, I have no more to say.   

8  
Thus cruel Rodomont that had removed  
The babbling Frire that did him so much spite,  
The fearful damsels love to win he proved,  
By all kind words and gestures that he might;  
He calls her his dear heart, his sole beloved,  
His joyful comfort, and his sweet delight,  
His mistress and his goddess, and such names,  
As loving knights apply to lovely dames.   

9  
Her reasons he doth courteously confute,  
(Love soon had made him such a learned clerk)  
In phrases mannerly he moves his suit,  
And still his suit was leveled at one mark, 
〈◊〉   
And though he might by force have plucked the fruit,  
Yet for that time he doth but kiss the bark:  
He thinks it will more sweet and pleasing make it,  
If she do give him leave before he take it.   

10  
Wherefore a while he is content to pause,  
In hope by time to win her love and grace:  
She deems herself like mouse in cats sharp claws,  
In stranger's hands, and in as strange a place;  
She sees he feared not Gods nor human laws,  
Nor had no pity of her woeful case,  
That only for his lust would her persuade,  
To break the vow that she to God had made.   

11  
Her heart and eyes, oft times to heaven she lifts,  
And prays the blessed Virgin and her Son,  
To save her from this Pagans filthy drifts,  
That unto her no villainy be done:  
She doth bethink her of an hundred shifts,  
How she his beastly lust may safely shun,  
That like an open gulf on her did gape,  
So as it seemed unpossible to scape.   

12  
She finds out many scuses and delays,  
That to prolong, which feign she would prevent,  
Sometime in humble manner him the prays,  
That to release her he would be content:  
But being still repulsed at all assays,  
At last she doth a way and meanesinuent,  
Not only how to shun that present shame,  
But merit to herself eternal name.   

13  
Unto the cruel Turk that now began  
From all good course of courtesy to serve,  
She cometh in the meekest sort she can,  
And faith, if he her honour will preserve, 
〈◊〉   
(Which is the part of each true valiant man)  
She would of him that favour well deserve,  
And give him such a gift as in due measure,  
Should far surpass this momentary pleasure.   

14  
But if you needs will me deflower, I wis  
(She said) when you have done you will repent,  
To think how fond you have done amiss,  
And lost that might have bred you true content  
As for your carnal love, you need not miss  
More fair than I, and fitter for your bent,  
But in ten thousand, one you shall not know,  
That such a gift upon you can bestow.   

15  
I know (quoth she) an herb, 
Look in the Allusion.  and I have seen  
A little since the place where as it grew,  
That boiled upon a fire of cypresle clean,  
And mixed with elder berries and with rue;  
And after strained harmlesle hands between,  
Will yield a juice, that who in order dew,  
Anoint therewith, shall never damage feel,  
By flame of fire, nor yet by dint of steel.   

16  
I say if one therewith anoint him thrice,  
These strange effects thereof will straight ensue,  
Provided always that in any wise  
He must each month the liquors strength renew:  
I have the way to make it in a trice,  
And you shall see by proof that it is true;  
This thing I think should joy you more to gain,  
Then if you conquered had all France or Spain.   

17  
And now for my reward of you, I pray  
Let me obtain this favourable meed,  
To swear that you henceforth will not assay  
My chastity, by either word or deed:  
Foll Rodomont thinks this a blessed day,  
And hopes he now shall never armour need,  
And swears he will her honour safe defend,  
Though to perform it he doth not intend.   

18  
Yet till she might this work bring to effect,  
He doth himself against his mind enforce,  
And that she might no violence expect,  
He doth not offer any sign of force;  
But that once doire, his oath he will neglect,  
For of an oath he never had remorse;  
But specially he thought it least disgrace,  
His oath to violate in such a case.   

19  
He makes to her a solemn protestation,  
And with most damned oaths the same doth bind,  
That he will never do her molestation,  
If she procure a juice of such a kind:  
This sink so deep in his imagination,  
Of Cygnius and Achilles runs his mind, 
They are foyd so have been so enchanted that they could feels no pain of fire nor steel.   
For by this means he doth himself assure,  
Such privilege as they had to procure.   

20  
Poor Isabella glad of this delay,  
By which a while her chastity she shields,  
Receiving this his promise, goeth straightway  
To seek these herbs amid the open fields,  
In every bank and grove, and hedge and way,  
She gathers some, such as the country yields;  
And all the while the Pagan walketh by,  
And to the damsel casteth still an eye.   

21  
And lest she should want cypress wood to bunie,  
He with his sword cuts down whole cypress trees,  
And in all other things to serve her turn,  
That each thing may provided be he sees:  
Now with her herbs she made her home return,  
The cauldrons are on fire (no time to lose)  
She boils and perboyles all those herbs and flowers,  
In which he thought there were such hidden powers.   

22  
At all these ceremonies he stands by,  
And what she doth he many times doth look,  
The smoke and heat at last him made so dry,  
That want of drink he could no longer brook,  
Greek wines there were, and those he doth apply,  
Two firkins late from passengers he took,  
He and his men by drinking both that night,  
Their heads full heavy made, their hearts full light.   

23  
Though by their law they are forbidden wine,  
Yet now that here they did the liquor taste,  
They thought it was so sweet and so divine,  
That Nectar and that Manna far it passed:  
At that restraint they greatly do repine,  
That did debar them of so sweet repast,  
And at their own law and religion laughing,  
They spend that night carousing and in quaffing.   

24  
Now had fair Isbell finished that confection,  
Which this gross Pagan doth believe to be,  
Against both steel and fire a safe protection:  
Now sir (she said) you shall the trial see,  
And that you may be sure that no infection  
Is in these drugs, you first shall prove by me,  
I shall you show thereof so perfect trial,  
As you shall see the proof past all denial.   

25  
Myself (quoth she) mind first to take the say,  
That you may see I do not feign nor lie,  
Then after on yourself you prove it may,  
When you have made a witness of your eye:  
Now therefore bid your men to go away,  
That none be present here but you and I,  
And thus, as with herself she had appointed,  
Her neck and brefts, and shoulders she anointed.   

26  
Which done, in cheerful sort she open laid  
Her naked neck before the beastly Turk,  
And bade him strike, for she was not afraid,  
She had such skill and trust in this rare work:  
He vnadu●d, and haply overlaid  
With wine, that in his idle brain did work,  
Was with her speech so undiscreetly led,  
That at one blow he quite cut off her head.   

27  
The head where love and all the graces dwelled,  
By heedless band is from the body severed,  
Alas whose heart at such hap could not melt?  
Yea that is more, the head cut off endevered  
To show what pleasure of her death she felt,  
And how she still in her first love persevered:  
Thrice from the floor the head was seen rebound,  
Thrice it was heard Zerbines' name to sound.   

28  
His name to whom so great love she did bear,  
As she to follow him would leave her life,  
To whom us hard so say if that she were  
A truer widow or a kinder wife;  
O soul that didst not death nor danger fear,  
(A sample in these latter times not rise)  
To save thy chastity and vowed truth,  
e'en in thy tender years and greenest youth.   

29  
Go soul, go sweetest soul for ever blest,  
So may my verse please those whom I desire,  
As my poor Muse shall ever do her best,  
As far as pen can paint, and speech aspire,  
That thy just praises may be plain expressed  
To future times. Go soul to heaven or higher;  
And if my verse can grant to thee this chartir, 
Isabella 〈…〉 of.   
Thou shalt be called of chastity the Martyr.   

30  
At this her deed so strange and admirable,  
He that above all heavens doth ay remain,  
Looked down, and said it was more commendable  
Than hers for whom Tarquinio lost his reign.  
And strait an ordinance inviolable,  
Ay to be kept on earth he doth ordain,  
And thus he said, e'en by myself I swear,  
Whose power, heaven, earth, spirits, men and Angels fear,   

31  
That for her sake that died of this name last,  
Who ever shall hereafter bear that name, 
A prop●●●● all 〈◊〉 sid bease the 〈◊〉 of Isabella.   
Shall be both wise and continent and chaste,  
Of faultless manners, and of spotless fame,  
Let writers strive to make their glòrie last,  
And oft in prose and verse record the same,  
Let Helicon Pindus, Parnassus' hill,  
Sound Isabella, Isabella still.   

32  
Thus said the Highest, and then there did ensue  
A wondrous calm in waters and in air,  
The chaste soul up into the third heaven flew,  
Where Zerbin was, to that the did repair:  
Now when the beastly Turk saw plain in view,  
How he had proved himself a womanslayre,  
When once his drunken furfet was digested,  
He blamed himself and his own deed detested.   

33  
In part to satisfy for this offence,  
And to appease her ghost as 'twere in part,  
Although he thought no pardon could dispense,  
Not punishment suffice for such desert;  
He vows a monument of great expense,  
Of costly workmanship and cunning art,  
To raise for her, nor minds he to go further,  
Than that self church where he had done the murder.   

34  
Of that self place he minds her tomb to make,  
And for that cause he gets of workmen store,  
For love, for money, and for terrors sake,  
Six thousand men he set to work and more;  
From out the mountains massy stones they take,  
With which well wrought, & hewed, & squared therefore  
With high and stately arch that church he covers,  
And in the midst entombs the blessed lovers.   

35  
And over this was raised with curious sleight,  
A Pyramid, a huge and stately tower,  
Which tower an hundred cubit had in height,  
By measure from the top unto the flower;  
It seemed a work of as great charge and weight,  
As Adrian made, 
Moles 〈◊〉 now called 〈◊〉 Se●● 〈…〉  to boast his wealth and power,  
Of goodly stones, all raised in seemly ranks,  
Upon the edge of stately Tiber banks.   

36  
Now when this goodly work was once begun,  
He makes a bridge upon the water by,  
That of great depth and force did ever tun,  
In former time a ferry there did lie,  
For such as would a further circuit shun,  
And pass this way more easy and more nigh;  
The Pagan takes away the ancient ferry,  
And leaves for passengers, not boat, not wherrio.   

37  
But makes a bridge where men to row are wont,  
And though the same were strong, & of great length,  
Yet might two horses hardly meet a front,  
Nor had the sides a rail or any strength,  
Who comes this way he means shall bide a bront,  
Except he have both courage good and strength,  
For with the arms of all that this way come,  
He means to beautify fair Isabels tomb.   

38  

〈◊〉 of He 〈◊〉 by means 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉  A thousand brave Achievements he doth vow,  
Where with he will adorn this stately work,  
From whom he taketh all these spoils or how,  
He cares not whether Christian or Turk.  
Now was the bridge full finished, and now  
His watchmen on each side in corners lurk,  
To make him know when any one comes near,  
For all that come, he means shall buy it dear.   

39  
And further his fantastic brain doth think,  
That sith by drinking wine he did that sin,  
In am thereof he now would water drink,  
As oft as by mishap he should fall in:  
For when he should unto the bottom sink,  
The top would be an ell above his clun,  
As who should say, for every evil action  
That wine procures, were water satisfaction.   

40  
Full many there arrived in few days,  
Some men, as in the way from Spain to France,  
Some others fond thirsting after praise,  
In hope by this exploit their names t'advance,  
But Rodomont doth meet them both the ways,  
And such his value was so good his chance,  
That still as many men as there arrives,  
Lost all of them their arms, and some their lives.   

41  
Among the many prisoners that he took,  
All those were Christians to Algyre he sent,  
And willed his men safely to them to look,  
Because ere long himself to come he meant;  
The rest, save that their armours they forsook,  
All harmless back into their countries went:  
Now while such feats were by the Pagan wrought,  
Orlando thither came of wits bestraught.   

42  
At that same instant that Orlando came,  
Was Rodomont all armed save his head,  
The naked Earl with wits quite out of frame,  
Leaps o'er the bar, and went (as folly led)  
To pass the bridge, the Pagan him doth blame,  
For his presumption, and withal he said,  
Stay saucy villain, proud, and undiscreet,  
For such as thee, this passage is not meet.   

43  
For Lords and knights and squires of good estate,  
This bridge was built, and not for thee thou beast:  
He that no sense had in his idle pate,  
Not heeding what was said still onward priest:  
I must (the Pagan thinks) this fool's pride bate,  
It seems belike he thinks I am in jest,  
And thereupon he makes the madman towards,  
And minds to drown him, sith he was so frowards.   

44  
He little looked to find a match so hard,  
Now while they two together 'gan to strive,  
Behold a gallant dame of great regard,  
At that same bridge by fortune did arrive,  
Fair Fiordeliege, that late before had hard,  
How love did of his wits this Earl deprius,  
She hither came to seek out Brandimart,  
That now in Pari, was with pensive hart.   

45  
And thus this Lady (as before I told)  
Came at that season to this dangerous place,  
And knew this Earl, when she did him behold,  
And wondered much to see him in such case:  
Now held Orlando with his foe hard hold,  
In vain the Pagan strives him to displace,  
And grinning, to himself he said at length,  
Who could have thought, a fool had such strength?   

46  
And stretting that he had his purpose mist,  
He doth by sleight the madmans' force assay,  
Sometime he puts his hand below his twist,  
Sometime above, sometime another way:  
Orlando stands unmoved, do what he list;  
The Pagan seemed to do by him that day ',  
As doth the Bear, 
Simile.  that would d●g up the tree,  
From whence she fell, but fees it will not be.   

47  
Orlando full of force, though void of sense,  
About the middle took the Pagan fast,  
And heaves him up from ground, & so from thence,  
Into the stream himself he backward cast:  
Unto the bottom both do sink from whence  
Each one was glad to get him in great haste,  
Orlando nakt and light, swum like a fish,  
So that he soon got out as he would wish.   

48  
And being out, away he strait doth run,  
Not tarries he to hear, or to expect,  
If men do blame or praise that he had done,  
But follows on his former course direct:  
This while the Pagan drank vie half a tun  
Of water, ere he could himself erect,  
And hardly he escaped being drowned,  
So heavy armed, and in place so profound.   

49  
Now, while the Pagan swimmeth for his life,  
Fair Fiordeliege with sad and pensure hart,  
A lively pattern of a virtuous wife,  
Doth search the sepulchre for Brandimart,  
She took her time while they fell first at strife, 
mantel is a vesliment of solemamitie we use by Princes.   
And up and down she looked in every part,  
But here she finds not arms not yet his mantel,  
Not meets with such as of him tidings can tell.   

50  

He returns to Fiordehege in the 〈◊〉 book, slesse 36. and after again 〈◊〉 51.  But leave we her awhile thus mourning sad,  
And seeking him each where save where he was,  
And tell we now what hap Orlando had,  
And what strange feats his fury brought to pass,  
You might perchance believe that I were mad,  
If none of his mad pranks I overpass.  
Which were so strange, and in so great a number,  
As you to hear, and me to tell would cumber.   

51  
I only shall some few of those recite,  
As to my present purpose shall pertain:  
The madman westward held his course forthright,  
Strait to the hills that sever France fro Spain,  
He seldom baits, but travels day and night,  
So much he was distempered in his brain,  
And by the mountains side as he did pass,  
He met two young men driving of an ass.   

52  
This ass they laden had with clefts of wood,  
Fast bound upon his burden bearing back;  
They seeing one run nakt as he were wood,  
Amid their way, they cried, ho sirrah back,  
But he makes answer neither bade not good,  
For sense and understanding he did lack,  
But with his foot, the poor ass he so spurned,  
That both his load and him he overturned.   

53  
He tossed him like a football up on hy,  
Whence down he fell and broke his neck with it;  
Then at the men he doth with forie fly,  
Of which the tone had better hap than wit,  
For down the rock the tone leapt by and by,  
Deep threescore yards, and by the way did hit,  
Upon a bank of furze, grown in the place,  
And seapt with only scratching of his face.   

54  
The tother that of fear like passion feels,  
Did think to clammer up upon the rock,  
But strait Orlando takes him by the heels,  

Simila.  And pulls him down and beats him like a stock,  

Simila.  As fishers use to beat their sliding Eels,  
And e'en as fawlkners tear some time a cock,  
To give unto their hawks their entrails warm,  
So he tears leg from leg, and arm from arm.   

55  

Stapidious, that is so say vunderfull.  These same and other like, stupendious deeds,  
He put in practice while those hills he passed,  

Viste, that is so say huge or great.  e'en such as speech and credit all exceeds,  
His fits so furious were, his strength so vast:  
So far unto the westward he proceeds,  
That to the sea, he now was come at last,  

Two son was 〈◊〉 〈…〉  e'en to the sandy shores of Tarracona,  
That leadeth right the way to Barcelona.   

56  
Upon those sands (such was his made conceit)  
He purposed with himself a house to build,  
And being noyed with the parching heat,  
He thinks with sand his skin therefrom to shield:  

Oesis the maid that the sy'de be aseth bet● 〈…〉.  Strait with his hands he digs him out a seat,  
And though the oes his body all defiled,  
Yet with that mould his members all he covered,  
That nothing but his head could be discovered.   

57  
Now as he lay half burid in the sand,  
(For save his head, the rest was all unseen,)  
There thither came, as in their way by land,  
Medoro with Angelica his Queen.  
She not aware what in her way did stand,  
(O● her lost lovers boasting then I ween)  
Came unto him so near and on such sudden,  
That upon him her horse had welny trodden.   

58  
But seeing strait up start a naked man,  
The fight did her greatly amaze and fright,  
She knows him not, nor guess at him she can,  
She thinketh sure, he is some hellish sprite:  
Rough grifly heard, eyes staring, village wan,  
All parched, and sun burnt, and deformed in fight,  
In fine he looked (to make a true description)  
In face like death, 
Simile.  in cull or like a Gyptian.   

59  
But she at this strange fight (as erst I said)  
Did gallop thence as fast as she could ride,  
And screeching loud, she crieth out for aid,  
Unto Medoro her beloved guide:  
The mad Orlando was not ill paid,  
When such a pretty damsel he had spied:  
Though he no knowledge nor remembrance had,  
How this was she, for whom he first fell mad.   

60  
Yet, as delighted with her pleasing hue,  
And liking well to see so fair a face,  
With great desire he strait doth her pursue,  
e'en as a hound the fear full Doc doth chase,  
Medoro moved herewith, his rapier drew,  
And after this mad fellow rides apace,  
And with his horse he thinketh down to tread him,  
And with his blade he thinketh to behed him.   

61  
But by effect, chose he found,  
That he without his host his reckoning made,  
The madman shrinketh not an inch of ground,  
And his bare skin was harder than the blade,  
Yet suddenly when as the madman found,  
That one behind his back did him invade,  
He turned and with his fist so smote the horse,  
As made him lie on ground a senseless corpse.   

62  
And in a trise he back again doth go,  
To catch Angelica who spurs with speed,  
And thinketh still her palfreys pace too slow,  
For such a turn, and so it was indeed,  
For had it gone like arrow from a boe,  
It hardly could have holp her at this need;  
At last her only hope was in the ring,  
For now to help her was none other thing.   

63  
The ring that never failed her at her need,  
Did make her now to vanish out of sight.  
But whether that it were for want of heed,  
Or that the suddenness did her affright,  
Or that her beast did founder with the speed,  
Or that she did determine to alight,  
Of all these which it was I cannot tell,  
But topsy-turvy from the beast she tell.   

64  
Had she fallen shorter, or on other side,  
In likelihood the madman had her caught,  
Which if he had, she doubtless should have died,  
But great good fortune her delivery wrought:  
But now another beast she must provide,  
For this another pace will soon be taught,  
Orlando full doth her pursue so fast,  
That needs he must ou'rget her at the last.   

65  
As for Angelica I take no care,  
I know that she a beast long will not lack,  
But rather steal one, as she did that Mare,  
That now in madmans' hands will suffer wrack.  
To follow her Orlando doth not spare,  
Till he her stayed and leapt upon her back,  
Then galloped he as long as she was able,  
And lets her rest in neither field not stable.   

66  
Until at last in leaping o'er a ditch,  
The poor Mare put her shoulder out of joint,  
He with his fall, took neither ache not stitch,  
Nor of the bruise he passeth not a point;  
Nor seeketh he for turpentine or pitch,  
The poor beasts bruised members to anoint,  
Though he might see with this fall he had marred her,  
Yet feign he would, she should have borne him farther.   

67  

〈◊〉 Quantum 〈◊〉 we sagitta 〈◊〉 poorest.  At last on his own shoulder her he laid,  
And bore her so about an arrow shoot,  
But feeling then that she too heavy weighed,  
He leadeth her and lets her go on foot,  
She limping follows him, and still he said;  
Come on, come on, but little did it b●●t,  
At last to make her, her flow pace to alter,  
About his right leg he doth her halter.   

68  
And tells her now with ease she follow may,  
And so to harry her he doth begin,  
The sharp stones lying in the rugged way,  
Fret of her hair, and afterward the skin,  
The beast misused thus, lives scarce a day:  
Orlando hath her tide unto his shin;  
He sees not, nor he knows not she is ded,  
But on he draws her as his fury led.   

69  
And sure he would have served her such a tuch,  
I mean his mistress, if he could have caught her,  
Had not the virtue of that ring been such,  
As how to walk invisible it taught her:  
Ah curled be that ring, and cursed as much  
Be he that so unluckily it brought her;  
Else sure Orlando had revenged then,  
Her often wrongs, to him and other men.   

70  
Yet why wish I this curse on her alone?  
I would the like might hap to all the kind, 
Ovid de arte aur. Fallute fallenies ex magna parto profaenum suns genus.   
For in a thousand good there is not one,  
All be so proud, unthankful and unkind,  
With flinty hearts; careless of others moan,  
In their own lusts carried most headlong blind,  
But more herein to speak I am forbidden, 
Verisas' odium purse. Terense.   
Some time for saying truth one may be chidden.   

Moral  In the death of Isabella is a not able example of chastity, which I must confess I have endeavoured to set forth to the uttermost of my poor skill, of a special love and reverence I bore to the name, having had an Isabella to my mother, and such an Isabella, as if nature did not make me to partial a praiser, I would boldly affirm (both for the honourable place she lived in, and for the virtuous sort she died in) to be worthy to whom the prophecy in the 31. staff of this 29. book may be worthily applied: As a better pen than mine, approved by this made Epitaph and intiled in this sort:  
A true report of mistress Isabella Harington, sometime of her Maiesties-priute chamber, written by a credible person that was well acquainted with her conditions.  
A body chaste, a virtuous mind, a temperate tongue, an humble hart,  
Secret and wise, faithful and kind, true without guile, mild without art,  
A friend to peace, a foe to strife, a spotless maid, a matchless wife.  
And thus much for the name of Isabella. In Rodomont we may see effects of incoustancie, sensuality and drunkenness, all which end (for the most part) in fruitless repentance.  

History  Whereas this fact of Isabella is preferred before that of Lucretia, who killed herself after she was destoured, I think that no man can justly make any comparison between them; for the story, I will not stand long upon to recite it being so well known, but refer the studious reader, either to Livy who writes it in prose very faithfully, or to Ovid de Fallis, where it is also recorded very Poetically and passionately.  
Quidfaciat, pugne● vincetur foemina pugnans;  
Clamet? at in dextra qui vetet ensis erat.  
Aufigiat? positis urgentur pectora palmis,  
Tum primum externa pectora tacta manu.  

Allegory  Some perhaps will pick a pretty Allegory in the confection that Isablla made, and in deed it is a pretty receipt, if it be well marked: It is in the 15. staff: an herb, which she named not, (suppose it to be trettifollie or prettifolly) mingled with elder berries and rue, (which may signify sage counsel and repentance) and strained between harmless hands, which betokens innocency, boiled on a fire of Cypress, which the ancient Romans used at funerals, and therefore may be taken either for death, or persecution, or martyrdom: this confection used in due order will be a good Antidoroner medicine, against fire and sword: under which is signified, all the perils and adversities of the world.  

Allusion  The death of Isabella alludeth, or in deed is merely taken from the like example of one Brasilla of Durazzo, that in the self same sort deceived a soldier, and was killed herself: as Fornarius noteth at large.  
Here end the notes of the xxix book.   

  

THE XXX. BOOK  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Strange feats by mad Orlando are achieved,  
Fierce Mandricard is by Rogero slain:  
Himself so hurt, that all the camp believed,  
He had been dead the foremost of the twain:  
His love with his long absence sore is grieved:  
To break his word his wounds do him constrain:  
Renaldo with his kinsfolk and his friends,  
To set his Prince at liberty intends.  

1  
WHen men with wrath and sudden pangs of ire,  
Permit themselves to be o'erwhelmed & drowned,  
And hot revenge that burns like flaming fire,  
Moves hearts to hurt, or tongs or hadns to wound,  
Though after to amend it they desire,  
Yet place of pardon seldom can be found: 
〈◊〉 Paleno. 〈…〉 the end 〈…〉.   
Ah (worthy Ladies) I do you beseech,  
To pardon that my former foolish speech.   

2  
For I am grown like a diseased man,  
That when he finds by physic no relief,  
And now no more with patience suffer can,  
The burning torture of his lingering grief  
Doth fall to rave and rage, and curse and bau,  
Blaspheming God, renouncing his belief: 
〈◊〉 Neseit 〈…〉.   
But when that fit is past, then would he feign,  
But ah he cannot call it back again.   

3  
Yet Ladies of your clemency I hope,  
I pity shall not only pardon find,  
Although I somewhat serve from reason's scope,  
And rash words flow from unadvised mind:  
She only bear the blame that slays my hope,  
And for true service shows herself unkind:  
That I did speak was partly of compassion, 
〈◊〉 is in 〈◊〉, as much compassion, ●●●fecung of 〈◊〉   
With sympathy moved of Orlando's passion.   

4  
Who (as I partly did before declare)  
In monstrous sort, surveyed Marsilios' reign,  
And wrought great woe, great danger, and great care,  
To all the then inhabitants of Spain:  
I told you how he drew the silly Mare,  
Tide to his leg, till she was dead with pain:  
And how he had so small sense in his head,  
He drew her after him when she was dead.   

5  
But coming to a great deep running water,  
He was constrained to let her there abide,  
And (for he swims as perfect as an Atter)  
He quickly passed to the other side,  
Where then a herdman came his beasts to water,  
And on a curtal he himself did ride:  
And though he saw the madman and did view him,  
Yet being naked he would not elchew him.   

6  
The madman prayeth him that he would spare  
His hor●e; that they two might together cope:  
I left (quoth he) on other ●●de my Mare,  
And fast about her neck I left a rope:  
I left her dead; but yet with heed and care,  
Of her recovery there is good hope:  
The herdman laugheth at his senseless words  
And unto him no answer he affords.   

7  
Ho (saith Orlando) fellow, dost not hear?  
I must thy curtal have, thou needst not laugh:  
And with that word approaching somewhat near,  
The crabbed herdman with a crabtree staff,  
Gave him a bastinado on his care,  
Which put the mad Earl into such a chafe,  
That with his fist he made the herdman reel,  
Till pain itself made him no pain to feel.   

8  
This done he leapeth on the horses back,  
And at adventure on he takes his way,  
Where ere he comes he putteth all to wrack,  
His horse tastes neither provender nor hay:  
But though this tired; a horse he may not lack,  
The next he meets by force he takes away:  
To strive with him it was but little boot,  
He is resolved not to go a foot.   

9  
He passeth to the straits of Zibeltar,  
Or Zibelterra (call it which you will)  
And as he went, with force of open war,  
Towns he did burn, and all the dwellers kill:  
Ten years will hardly make that he would mar  
Within one hour, and thus he traveled still,  
Till on a day, riding upon the sand,  
He saw a ship new loosed from the land.   

10  
The air was clear and mild, and calm the wether,  
And certain Gentlefolk had hired the bark,  
With mind to take their solace there together,  
And to return again ere it were dark:  
The madman cries, ho sits let me come thither:  
His deeds, his words, they neither mark nor hark,  
Or if they did, you may be sure they thought,  
They would not cumbered be with such a fraught.   

11  
He hallows after them, and whopes and hails,  
To have them stay, & with fair words doth woe them,  
Glad might they be they went with oars and says,  
For might he come, he surely would undo them,  
The fool that sees how small his speech prevayls,  
Beats on his horse, and means to ride unto them:  
In vain his horse would shun this hard adventure,  
But he perforce makes him the sea to enter.   

12  
First he his feet doth wet, and then his knees,  
And next his belly, after that his back,  
Now scant his nose one in the water sees,  
And full he lays him on; poor horse alack,  
That either in these seas his life must lose,  
Or swim to Africa et he can turn back:  
At last with swimming tired, with water cloyed,  
His belly filled, till limbs of life were void.   

13  
The horse unto the bottom quickly funke,  

Fortunasavet 〈◊〉, as the Latin preverbe 〈◊〉.  And had for company his buthern drowned,  
If fortune that help frantic men and drunk,  
Had not him safe conveyed to Afrique ground:  
Orlando at the danger never shrunk,  
But to the shore he swum both safe and sound:  
It happy was the seas were then so still,  
Else had the Earl been drowned for all his skill.   

14  
Now being safe arrived at the shore,  
Near Setta straight he ranged o'er the cost,  
And did such deeds as he had done before,  
On other side to many poor men's cost;  
At last he came where as he found great store,  

Hereu 〈◊〉 to Orlando in the 39 book 36 staff.  Of warlike weapons, and a mighty host:  
But how with them this madman disagreed,  
I may not in this book to tell proceed.   

15  
And further how Angelica the fair, 
There is 〈◊〉 of Angelica this work.   
Did meet her love again, and what a Lord  
He grew, by matching with so great an hair,  
And lived with her in love and sweet accord,  
(Although in birth an unfit matched pair)  
I leave for other Muses to record:  
For now I must address myself to tell,  
What haps in Agramantes camp befell.   

16  
I told you two books past, or there about,  
How Mandricard was Doralices choice:  
And how in face of all the Pagan rout,  
She gave that doom, that made him much rejoice,  
For she was deemed for beauty (out of doubt)  
The best in Europe by the common voices  
Now chief since fair Angelica was fled,  
And worthy Isabella lost her head.   

17  
But yet this pleasure was not so entire,  
But that it sauced was with some annoy,  
For wrath and envy set his heart on fire,  
And much abated of his present joy:  
It spite's him that Rogero dare aspire,  
To give his coat, being a berdlesse boy:  
And further that the king of Sericane,  
Should openly lay claim to Durindane.   

18  
And first Rogero will by no means yield,  
By no entreaty, nor by no request,  
That Mandricard should carry that same shield  
Which had the Argent Eagle on the crest,  
Except he first could win it in the field:  
On other side Gradasso doth not rest,  
But he will be the first to try by fight,  
Which of them two had to the sword most right.   

19  
With Agramant Marsilio took great pain,  
In all or part these quarrels to appease,  
But when they saw their labour was in vain,  
To govern or persuade with one of these:  
The chance (quoth Agramant) shall make that plain,  
For which you strive, and e'en as fortune please,  
So let it be, and let some lots be cast,  
Which two or three, shall fight the first or last.   

20  
And yet this just request deny me not,  
Before the matter any further goth,  
(Though now you be so violent and hot,  
That speech of peace and all accord you loath)  
To grant that who shall combat first by lot,  
May losing lose, and winning win for both:  
This motion, most indifferent must seem,  
Sith both their vallews equal we esteem.   

21  
This motion neither of them do mislike,  
And strait Gradassos' and Rogeros' name,  
Upon two scrolls were writ so passing like  
You would have judged them both to be the same:  
A boy of fourteen year of age they pike,  
To draw the lot, and he that first out came,  
Must fight with Mandricard, and make it known,  
He fights for tother's title and his own.   

22  
When on this order all parts were agreed,  
The lot to fight upon Rogero fell,  
Which hap great grief did in Gradasso breed,  
Although in show he seemed to take it well:  
chose it did all joy exceed,  
The joy Rogero had, it so befell:  
So well of his own value he believed,  
He joyed at that at which the tother grieved.   

23  
But yet Gradasso doth with great regard,  
Both favour and advane Rogeros' side,  
And showeth him how he must lie to ward  
A coming blow, how he might slip a side:  
How for a thrust he may be best prepared:  
Which blows be firm, and which be falsiside,  
When best time is to follow thrust or blow:  
How one may best take vantage of his foe.   

24  
The rest of that same day that did remain,  
Ensuing this same course of casting lots,  
They spent as pleased each man's pleasing vain,  
In talk, or banqueting, or tossing pots:  
To see this fight the people glad and feign,  
Clammer the scaffolds, gazing still like lots,  
Some for desire do co●ne by break of day,  
And some all night within the place do stay.   

25  
Thus (as I say) these simple fools do long,  
To see the combat these brave knights betwixt,  
And blame the stay, and think the time too long,  
That for the same the Heralds had prefixed:  
But sober men that knew what did belong  
To such exploits, whose wiser heads were fixed,  
On public good, this quarrel much lament,  
And traveled all they can it to prevent.   

26  
And chief Marsilio and Sobrino sage,  
Advise king Agramant to stay the fight,  
And these same champions fury to assuage,  
And to take up the quarrel if they might:  
Forewarning him when he must battle wage,  
With Charles of France, the loss of one such knight,  
Will do him greater hurt and damage then,  
Then would the loss of thousands and other men.   

27  
But Agramant knew all was true they spoke,  
And sane he would their counsel wise obey,  
But could not tell his grant how to revoke:  
Only he doth in courteous sort them pray,  
That he may strike with them so great a stroke,  
Either to end or to defer the fray;  
And yield the rather unto his persuasion,  
Because it rose upon so light occasion.   

28  
Or if they did esteem such toys so far,  
As though they matters were of true renown;  

〈◊〉 is almost the 〈◊〉 cause why morals between 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 states be so 〈◊〉 taken up  That yet they would the fight so long defar,  
Until the son of Pipen were put down:  
And till they conquered had the Realm by war,  
And ta'en from him his mantle and his crown,  
This motion had in likelihood taken place,  
Save each thought first consent would be disgrace.   

29  
Above them all and more than all the rest,  
That in this sort their speech in vain had spent:  
Fair Doralyce doth Mandricard request,  
That to the kings desire he would assent:  
She doth exhort, entreat, persuade, protest,  
She doth complain, and languish, and lament:  
To think that by his over haftie choler,  
She still must live in anguish and in dolour.   

30  
How can I hope (said she) that ere I shall, 
Dorayces speech to 〈◊〉 Mandricard to peace.   
Live any hour in solace and in joy?  
When still I see you ready be to brawl,  
With every man, for every trifiting toy:  
The Sarzans foil doth me no good at all,  
My choice of you hath bred me more annoy:  
To end that quarrel, ah what did it boot,  
Sith strait another quarrel is on foot?   

31  
I simple fool, in mind was proud and glad,  
That such a Prince, so brave a man as you,  
For love of me his whole state ventured had;  
But now I find by this that doth ensue,  
That I had far more reason to be sad,  
Sith each like cause, like danger doth renew;  
And not my love, but your own native fury,  
To bide such hard adventures did procure ye.   

32  
But if your love be such as in your speech,  
You do profess, and in your open show:  
Then by that love I humbly you beseech,  
And by that fancy which too well I know,  
Doth e'en my heart and soul with love bewitch,  
Let not this quarrel any further grow:  
I see not why it should you so molest,  
To see your Eagle in anot hers crest. 
〈◊〉.    

33  
If needs you will attempt this hardy feat,  
And venture life upon a thing ●o vain,  
Then hazard that you make must needs be great,  
But none, or very small can be the gain:  
But if that fortune change her fickle fear,  
Think then, o think, what woe shall I sustain?  
There never yet was Emperor or king,  
Could boast that he had Fortune in a string. 
Sentence.    

34  
But if that life be unto you less dear,  
Then is a painted bird upon a shield;  
Yet for my sake, whom it doth touch more near,  
Let me entreat you to this motion yield:  
If you were stain, what joy could I have hear?  
Death sole from woe, both could & should me shield  
Not fear I death; my only grief would be,  
Before my death thy woeful end to see.   

35  
Thus earnestly fair Doralycee dealt,  
All that same night, as in his arms she lies,  
And as she spoke, the tears distil and melt,  
In warrie streams, down from her crystal eyes:  
The Tartar that no little passion felt,  
T'o comfort her faith all he can devise:  
And wipes her checks, and her sweet lip dothkisse,  
And weeps for company, and answers this.   

36  

M●●●uards 〈◊〉.  Ah do not grieve thyself so sore (my dear)  
Ah do not grieve thyself for such a toy,  
Pluck up thy sprights, and be of better cheer,  
There is no cause of fear mine only joy:  
No though that all the kings and captains hear,  
Had sworn my death, and vowed mine annoy:  
Yet all the kings and captains I would vanquish,  
Why then should you causeless in sorrow languish?   

37  
What, did not I with trunchen of a spear,  
(You know yourself whether I say the truth)  
Not having sword nor other weapon there,  
Win you from all your guard? and shall a youth,  
A beardless boy, cause you my safety fear,  
And breed in you so unadvised ruth?  
Well might you deem I were a dastard lout,  
If of Rogero I should stand in doubt.   

38  
Gradasso, though unto his grief and shame,  
Yet if one ask him can it not gainsay,  
That when he last unto Sorya came,  
I met and took him prisoner by the way,  
Yet he is of another manner same,  
Then is Rogero, you yourself will say:  
I had him there a prisoner at my will,  
And if I listed might have kept him still.   

39  
And lest I should of this good witness want,  
Beside Gradasso, there be hunderds more,  
As namely Isolyr, and Sacrepant,  
Whom I set free and had great thanks therefore:  
Also the famous Grissin and Aquilant,  
That there were taken, but few days before:  
With divers more both Turkish and baptized,  
That by my force were taken and surprised.   

40  
Their wonder in those countries still doth last,  
Of that great value I that time did show,  
And should I now a doubt or peril cast?  
Am I in greater danger now you trow?  
Shall one young youth me hand to hand aghast?  
Shall I now doubt his force, or fear his blow?  
Now having Durindana by my side,  
And Hector's armour on my back beside?   

41  
Why did not I, as pointed was by lot,  
With Rodomont first bloody barrel wage?  
That by his ill success you might forewot,  
The speedy end of this young sorry page.  

They say in Latin Malder●nat●● pursue verbu.  Dry up these tears (my dear) and bring me not,  
Before the combat at such an ill presage:  
Nor think an Eagle on a target painted,  
Moves me hereto, but doubt of honour tainted.   

42  
Thus much said he, but she such answer made him,  
With words expressing such aloving moan,  
As were not only able to persuade him,  
But might (I think) have moved a marble stone:  
The force was great wherewith she did invade him,  
In fine so far she conquers him alone,  
He grants thus far to be at her devotion,  
If peace be offered, to accept the motion.   

43  
And so I think indeed he would have done,  
Had not Rogero early in the morn,  
Got up before the rising of the Sun,  
And entered in the lists, and blown his horn,  
To show that he the battle would not shun,  
And that Jove's bird by him was justly borne:  
Which either he will carry on his shield,  
Or else will leave his carcase in the field.   

44  
But when the Tartar fierce did hear that found,  
And that his men thereof had brought him word:  
He thinks great shame should unto him redound,  
If any treaty he of peace afford:  
Arm arm he cries, & strait he arms him round, 
〈…〉 Ae 〈◊〉   
And by his side he hangs his trusty sword:  
And in his countenance he looks so grim,  
Scarce Doralyce herself dares speak to him.   

45  
And armed at all pieces, up in haste  
He gets, and that same courser he bestrides, 
Orlando.   
That was that Christian champions in time past,  
Who now doth run his wit and sense besides:  
And thus he comes unto the lists at last,  
The place that all such quarrels still decides,  
The king and all his court soon after came,  
And now ere long begins the bloody game.   

46  
Now on their heads their helmets are made fast,  
Now are the Lances put into their hands,  
Now was the token given by trumpets blast,  
Which both the horse and horseman understands:  
Now in a full carryre they gallop fast,  
And either strongly to his tackle stands:  
Now with such force the tone the tother strake,  
As though that heaven did fall, and earth did shake.   

47  
The Argent Eagle comes on either side, 
Look inside Allussion.   
With wings displayed on either captains shield,  
The bird which jove (men say) was seen to ride,  
(Though better winged) o'er the Thessalian field:  
As for their mighty strength and courage tried,  
Their massy spears sufficient witness yield:  
Nor strud they more with those tepestuous knocks,  
Then wind stirs towers, or waves do stur the rocks.   

48  
The splinters of the spears flew to the sky,  
(As Turpin writeth that was present there)  
And were on fire by having, been so nigh,  
Unto the scorching of the fiery Sphere:  
The champions out their swords draw by and by,  
As those that neither sword nor fire did fear,  
And either thrusteth at the tother's face,  
And seeks by force the tother to displace.   

49  
They never sought to hurt each others steed,  
Not that they made together such accord,  
But that they deemed it an unworthy deed,  
Not worthy of a worthy knight or Lord:  
Of base revenge they count that act proceed,  
And meet of noble minds to be abhorred.  
So that in those days none were known to kill  
A horse, except it were against his will.   

50  
Upon their vizers both do strike at once,  
And though the same were firm and plated double,  
As being made of proof and for the nonce,  
Yet did the force of such fell strokes them trouble;  
And still they lay on load as thick as stones  
Of hail, that often turn the corn to stubble:  
I think it needless further to allege,  
It they have strength, or if their swords have edge.   

51  
Yet long they fought together in that field,  
Ere any sign of any blow was left,  
Such wary heed each took himself to shield;  
But Durindan at last fell with such hest,  
Full on the circle of Rogeros' shield,  
That half way through the argent bird it cloven,  
And pierced the coat of male that was within,  
And found a passage to the very skin.   

52  
The cruel blow made many hearts full cold,  
Of such as wished well to Rogeros' part,  
For most of those that stood by to behold,  
Rogeros favoured in their mind and hart,  
So that afore to say one might be bold,  
If fortune follow would the greater part,  
Fierce Mandricard were slain, or else should yield,  
So that this blow offended half the field.   

53  
But surely some good Angel I believe,  
The force of this so fearful stroke abated,  
Rogero though the wound him somewhat grieve,  
Yet was his mind therewith no whit amated,  
Great usury he mindeth him to give,  
And that the strife may quickly be debated,  
He frankly strikes with his whole force and might,  
Full on the helmet of the Tartar knight.   

54  
With so great force and fury came the blow,  
As to the teeth no doubt had clou'n his head,  
Saving by what mishap I do not know,  
But want of heed that too much haste had bred,  
It lighted flatling on him, else I trow,  
That struck alone had him most surely sped,  
But as it was it made his head so idle,  
He opened both his hands and loosed his bridle.   

55  
Good Brigliadore that felt the slacked rain,  
(I think still mourning for his master's change)  
Ran up and down at random on the plain,  

〈…〉.  His senseless rider suffering him to range;  
Who when he came unto himself again,  
And saw his 〈◊〉 to run a course so strange,  
A spurned Viper hath not so much wrath,  
Nor wounded Lion, as the Tartar hath.   

56  
He claps the spurs to Brigliadoros' side,  
And on his stirrups he himself advances,  
And to his so with fury he doth ride,  
And up on high his right arm he inhances,  
To strike a blow; but when Rogero spied  
His arm lie open. as oft in fight it chances,  
He chopped his swords point under tother's arm,  
And pulled it out with blood both wet and warm.   

57  
By which he did not only maim his so,  
By letting blood upon so large a vain,  
But bated much the fury of the blo,  
Which notwithstanding fell with force so main,  
As made Rogero stagger to and fro,  
And mazed his head, and dazd his eyes with pain;  
And much it was that time for his behoose,  
To have his helmet of so good a proof.   

58  
But having now again recovered force,  
And as it were new wakened from his dream,  
Upon the Tartar Prince he turned his horse,  
And on his thigh he strikes with strength extreme,  
That through the steel he did the sword enforce:  
Out spins the blood in pure vermilion stream,  
Nought could avail enchanted Hector's arms,  
Against this sword with stronger tempered charms.   

59  
The Tartar feeling to his great disease,  
His body wounded as he little thought,  
Did rage as terrible as do the seas, 
Simile.   
With highest winds and strongest tempests wrought,  
He curleth heavens, his smarting pangs to ease,  
The shield that had the bird for which he fought,  
Away he hurleth from him for the nonce,  
And to his sword he lets both hands at once.   

60  
Ah (quoth Rogero) too plain trial this is,  
That to that Eagle thou no title haste,  
That first didst with thy sword cut mine in pieces,  
And now thine own away from thee dost cast:  
Thus much said he, but whatsoever he sees,  
He must the force of Durindana taste,  
Which fell upon his forehead with such might,  
A mountain might have seemed to fall as light.   

61  
I say the blow upon his forehead fell,  
But yet his beaver saved it from his face,  
It happened at that time for him full well,  
That in the hollow there was so much spaces,  
Yet harmless quite to scape him not befell,  
For why the sword that ever cuts apace,  
Did pierce his plated saddle, and beside  
An inch did enter into Rogeros' side.   

62  
Thus each with crimson had his armour died,  
And blood did stream from both a double way,  
Yet hitherto it could not be descried,  
On whether side would chances balance sway:  
At last Rogero did that doubt decide,  
With that same sword that ever home doth pay,  
And where the tother's target wants, there just  
Rogero pays him with a speeding thrust.   

63  
The blade, 'gainst which prevails no Magic are,  
His curates priest, and ribs and flesh it tore,  
And found a passage to the naked hart:  
Now must the Tartar Prince for evermore  
In sword and painted shield forsake his part,  
Not only so, but that which grieves him more,  
He must forsake his much beloved life,  
More loved honour, and most loved wife.   

64  
The wretch yet unrevenged did not die,  
But gave hard recompense ere he departed,  
At good Rogeros' head he doth let fly,  
And had (no doubt) the same in sunder parted,  
Save that his arm was maimed, and so thereby  
Much of his force from thence had been divarted,  
Much of his force diverted was from thence  
Before, when for his arm he wanted fence.   

65  
But as it was, yet to to hard it fell,  
And caused the noble knight great pain to feel,  
His helmet it did cleave, though plated well,  
And made for prose of tough well tempered steel,  
And in the very skull it clove a spell,  
Two fingers deep, and made him backward teele,  
He backward falls, the pain was so exceeding,  
With grievous wound his head most freshly bleeding   

66  
Rogero was the first that tumbled down,  
And Mandricardo fell a good while after,  
All thought Rogero dead, because his crown  
Still bled, but chiefly Strodilanos daughter  
joys, that her spouse had won this fights renown,  
Now hopes she, she shall turn her tears to laughter,  
And as she thought, so was the common voice,  
So that the Tartars friends did all rejoice.   

67  
But when there did appear by certain signs,  
The lief man living, and the dead man slain,  
Then Doralycee wrings her hands and whines,  
And grief came there, and comfort here again:  
The chiefest part, whose favour all inclines  
Unto Rogero, are full glad and sane,  
And gratulate his good success, and grace him,  
And run to him, and in their arms embrace him.   

68  
Nor was this show of love, dissimulation,  
But true unsained kindness, and good faith,  
But yet Gradassos' saint congratulation,  
Makes men surmise he thinks not as he faith:  
He secretly envies such reputation,  
Though outwardly the slatterer he playeth,  
And curseth (were it destiny or chance)  
That to this enterprise did him advance.   

69  
But Agramant that ever did before,  
Do him great honour, and him well esteem,  
Now he doth him admire, extol, adore,  
So highly of his value he doth deem:  
In him alone he puts affiance more,  
Then all his camp together it should seem,  
Now that the seed of Agricane was spent,  
And Rodomont gone thence a malcontent.   

70  
What should I tell the praise that many a Lady  
Gave of this knight, of Africa and of Spain?  
Who knew that Mandricardo was no baby,  
And saw him now by this man's value stain;  
Yea doleful Doralyce herself (it may be)  
Save that for modesty she must resraine,  
Would have been moved with a small request,  
To speak as well of him as did the rest.   

71  
I say it may be, but I cannot tell,  
For why before unconstant she was proved:  
And sure Rogeros' parts did so excel,  
As any, Lady doubtless might have moved.  
While other lived, perhaps she liked him well,  
But now to seek a new it her behoved,  
Such one as she herself might able warrant,  
To ride both day and nightly on her arrant.   

72  
Now brought the King Rogero with great care  
To his own tent, that there he may be cured,  
The best Physicians thither sent for are,  
To search his wounds, they strait his life assured:  
The shield and arms that Mandricardo bore,  
The which this bloody battle first procured,  
All save the sword that was Gradassos' right,  
Were hanged up by his bed's head that night.   

73  
Howbeit that brave courser Brigliadore,  
Rogero needs would give unto the King,  
Who took it thankfully, and set more store  
By that same steed than any such like thing:  
But hereof now a while I treat no more, 
He 〈◊〉 Rogeros' 〈◊〉 in the 〈◊〉 35. books.   
First must you hear what news the maid did bring,  
(I mean Hyppalca) to her mistress dear,  
Whom love had made to be of heavy cheer.   

74  
She told her first what hap to her befell,  
How Frontine by a Turk was ta'en away:  
And after, how she found at Merlin's well  
Richardo and Rogero that same day,  
To whom she did her hard adventure tell.  
And how Rogero went with her straightway,  
To win the horse out of the Pagans fist,  
But at that season he his purpose mist.   

75  
Also she told to Bradamant the cause,  
Why her dear love himself did now absent,  
Who promised her, to take a little pause,  
And then her mind most thoroughly content:  
In sine Hyppalca from her bosom draws  
That letter which was to her mistress sent,  
Who so much less did seem to like the letter,  
Because she would have liked his presence better.   

76  
For sith before she did himself expect,  
Now paper in his steed to have and ink,  
It caused her to fear and to suspect,  
And made some doubts into her thoughts to sink,  
Yet liked she well the meaning and effect,  
And kissed the letter oft, and sure I think,  
Had burnt it with the heat of her desire,  
Save that the tears she shed did quench that fire.   

77  
She read the writing o'er, five times or six,  
The words, the phrase, the sense her pleased so well,  
And then she made the maid, each time betwixt,  
The message that Rogero sent to tell,  
And save he did so short a time prefix  
To come to her, and ay with her to dwell,  
I think she never would have ceased mourning,  
Till she had seen or heard of his returning.   

78  
Rogero to Hippalca promised had,  
Fifteen, or twenty days at most to stay,  
And her, to tell her mistress so he bade,  
But swearing to come sooner if he may  
But nearethelesse good Bradmant is sad,  
Still doubting chances to prolong that day.  

Sentence.  All things (said she) to fortune are subjecteth,  
And chief in wars that are by chance directed.   

79  
Ay (my Rogero) who could once have thought,  
Sith I more than myself esteemed thee,  
That thou by any means couldst have been brought,  
To bear thy very foes more love than me?  
Whom thou should hurt, by thee their help is sought  
Whom thou should save, by thee they spoilt be;  
Needs must I blame thy negligent regarding,  
As well in punishing as in rewarding.   

80  
Traiano slew thy fire, I think thou knowest,  

● this you may 〈◊〉 more on the 〈◊〉 end of the ●5. book.  (For sure the stones it know) yet to his son,  
Thou thinkst in honour thou such duty owest,  
That thou must see no hurt may him be done:  
Is this sufficient a revenge thou trowest,  
Thinkst thou true fame can by such facts be won?  
Lo unto what thy show of honour tends,  
To serve thine enemies, and slay thy friends.   

81  
Thus Bradamant spoke to her absent love,  
With passion great, and evermore her maid,  
With reason seeks that fancy to remove,  
Assuring her she need not be afraid:  
And wishing her with patient mind to prove,  
If so he would not do as he had said,  
And that she would in all things hope the best, 
Sentence.   
And then to God and fortune leave the rest.   

82  
With this good speech of hers, and strong persuasion,  
She doth his coming till the day expect,  
Which good Rogero broke, not by occasion  
That he his word and promise did neglect;  
But that which happed against his expectation,  
His wounds had bred so dangerous effect,  
But chief the same he last took in his head,  
Which made him forty days to keep his bed.   

83  
Now Bradamant doth wait the twenty days,  
And stayed at Montalbano with her mother,  
And making still enquiry many ways,  
If she might hear some news of one or other,  
But none she heard, save that which to his praise,  
Was told her after by her younger brother,  
Which though she joyed to hear, as was most meet,  
Yet mingled was some sour with that same sweet.   

84  
For why the value of Marsisa stout,  
Which did assist them greatly, as he told,  
To win their kinsmen from the moorish rout,  
That unto Bertolage should have been sold,  
This bred in Bradamantes mind some doubt,  
And strake into her heart a iealiouse cold;  
Because 'twas said they two together went  
To Agramant, that in his camp was penned.   

85  
For though she could not choose but greatly praise her,  
That did herself so stout and valiant prove,  
Yet one the tother side, her beauty frays her,  
Lest he perhaps on her might set his love:  
But yet in fine, hope of his promise stays her,  
So that in twenty days he did not move  
From Montalbano, and in that same space, 
Renaldo.   
There thither came the chief man of her race.   

86  
I mean not chief of birth, but chief of name,  
For two there were, in birth more old than he,  
Renaldo unto Montalbano came,  
His brothers, cousins, and his friends to see,  
Whom he had heard by speech of flying fame,  
Now safe arrived at that place to be,  
And how Rogero and Marsisa wrought  
Their liberty, when they were sold and bought.   

87  
Wherefore he came to see them face to face,  
And understand with them how each thing stood,  
It seemed he was as welcome to the place,  
As is the swallow to her tender brood, 
Simile.   
That almost starved and in sorry case,  
Have long expected sustenance and food,  
And when they there had stayed, a day or twain,  
Both they and he to Paris went again.   

88  
Alardo and Guichiardo, Richardet,  
And Malagigy and good Viviane,  
Close after this brave Lord themselves do get,  
And Bradamant with them they would have ta'en,  
But she alleged she could not come as yet;  
(But hopes ere long they should be overta'en)  
She prays them for that time content to hold them;  
For why she was not well at ease she told them.   

89  
And true it was, she was not well at race,  
Not that she had a fit of any fever,  
Or any other corporal disease,  
It was a fit of love, that burneth ever;  
Whole heat no herb nor physic can appease;  
This fit did her from that brave crew dissever:  
But in another book I shall repeat,  
What succour they did bring to Charles the great.   
In this thirtieth book, in Orlando's mad pranks (though they be feigned things) we may note, what hard and impossible matters are attempted, 
Moral.  and sometime achieved by mad men, of which the reason is doubtful; a natural reason is given (though many will doubt thereof) that the cause of their extraordinary strength, is that nature (Intendens omnem vim) as they term it, that is to say, bending her whole force at one instant, doth by that means double the strength and ability to any hard and unmeasurable matter: as we see men often at the pangs of death (through otherwise but weak) yet so strong that three or four men cannot hold them: or as men sometimes in a fear leap over a wall, or down from a window without harm, which at another time would break their necks. Another reason of mad men's unreasonable strength, is metaphysical, or supernatural, and that is when they are possessed with spirits, of which there are many examples. In Agramant that endeavours to end two quarrels with one combat, we may observe, that it beseems the wisdom of a Prince, either to take up quarrels and civil dissensions between their great subjects absolutely, or at least to draw them to as speedy a trial, and with as little damage as may be.  

History and Allusion.  Concerning the Eagle about which the two champions strove who should bear it for his arms or Cognizance (as we term it) he seems to allude to the civil wars that were between Caesar and Pompey, where as Lucan complaineth in his excellent Poem, 
— Infestisque obuia signis  
Signa, pares aquilas & pila minantia pilis,  For the romans Ensign was the Eagle, and it is strange that is reported by credible writers, how in a battle fought near Thessalia, between Brutus and Cassius of the one side, and Octavius and Anthony of the other side, two Eagles were visibly seen fight in the air with their beaks and talents, in most fierce manner: And finally, that of Anthony's side prevailed, and put the other to flight.  
Here end the notes of the XXX. book.   

  

THE XXXI. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Unwares doth Guidon with Renaldo fight,  
But afterward is by his brethren known,  
By whose great courage, and united might,  
The Turks are vanquished and overthrown.  
Good Brandimart seeks out that woeful knight,  
Whose wits by love distraught, are not his own,  
Is ta'en, and of his life was in great peril.  
Renaldo and Gradasso fall to quarrel.  

1  
WHat state of life more pleasing may we find, 
Against isalofic.   
Then theirs, that true and hearty love do bear?  
Whom that 
Marriage.  sweet yoke doth? fast together bind,  
That man in Paradise first learned to wear:  
Were not some so tormented in their mind,  
With that same vile suspect, that filthy fear,  
That torture great, that foolish frenzy,  
That raging madness, called jealousy.   

2  

Dulcia non me. rust qus non 〈…〉  For every other sour that gets a placo,  
To seat itself amid this pleasant sweet,  
Doth help in th'end to give a greater grace,  
And makes loves joy more gratful when they meet,  

Simile.  Who so abstains from sustenance a space,  
Shall find both bread and water relish sweet:  

Sentence.  Men know not peace not rightly how to deem it,  
That have not first by war been taught t'steeme it.   

3  
Though eyes want sight, of that they would see feign,  
The thought yet sees, & hearts with patience take it,  
Long absence grieves, yet when they meet again,  
That absence doth more sweet and pleasant make it:  
To serve and sue long time for little gain,  
(So that all hope do not e'en quite forsake it)  

Sentence.  One may endure, for when the pain is past,  
Reward, though long it stay, yet comes at last.   

4  
The sharp repulses, and the deep disdains,  
And all the torments that in love are found,  
At last with pleasure recompense the pains,  
And make far more contentment to abound:  
But if this hellish plague infect the brains,  
Though afterward it seem both whole and sound,  
The quality thereof is so mischieous,  
The very though is to a lover grievous.   

5  
This is that cruel wound, against whose smart,  
No liquors force prevails, nor any plaster,  
No skill of stars, no depth of Magic art, 
Zarae●●●enses of 〈◊〉   
Devised by that great clerk Zoroaster:  
A wound that so infects the soul and hart,  
As all out sense and reason it doth master;  
A wound whose pang, and torment is so durable,  
As it may rightly called be incurable.   

6  
This is a plague that quickly doth infect  
All lovers hearts, and doth possess their thought,  
As well with causeless, as with just suspect  
By this, a man to madness mere is brought  
Oh plague, by whose most damnable effect,  
In deep despair to die have divers sought;  
Oh jealousy, that didst without desert,  
Possess the noble Prailamantes hart.   

7  
Not for the tale her maid or brother told,  
Which made with in her mind a sharp impression,  
But other news that made her heart full cold,  
How her love of new love did make profession;  
As I more plain hereafter shall unfold.  
For now I needs a while must make digression,  
To brave Renaldo, that to Paris ward  
Did march, with that same crew of great regard.   

8  
The day ensuing ere it yet was night,  

〈◊〉 Savage.  They met an armed knight upon the way,  
A Lady fair accompanid the knight,  
His armour all was black, save that there lay  
A thwart the breast a wreath of Argent bright.  
And strait the foremost man in their array,  
Which Richardetto was, as then did chance,  
He challenged with him to break a lance.   

9  
The gallant youth that never man refused,  
Strait turned his horse, a space for course to take,  
As one that (for his time) had often used,  
Such feats as this to do and undertake:  
Renaldo standeth still, and them perused,  
To see which knight the fairest course would make,  
Now Richardet thinks, if I hit him just,  
I shall this gallant tumble in the dust.   

10  
But otherwise it then to him befell,  
And of his reckoning he was quite deceived,  
The tother knew to hit, and sit so well,  
That Richardet was from the saddle heaved:  
Alardo seeing how his brother fell,  
Did think t'avenge the foil that he received,  
But he likewise inferior did remain,  
His arm was bruised, his shield was rend in twain.   

11  
Guicchiardo next, the self same fortune tried,  
And was constrained unto the ground t'encline,  
Although to him Renaldo loudly cried,  
Stay, hold your hands, for this course should be mine.  
Vivian and Malagige, and more beside,  
That at their kinsman's foil did much repine,  
Would then have fought with this same stranger knight,  
Save that Renaldo claimed it as his right.   

12  
And said my friends, we must to Paris haste;  
But to himself he said, it were a jest,  

● would not 〈◊〉 upbraid 〈◊〉  For me to stay till all they down were cast  
By one and one, I'll fight and they shall rest;  
This said, he spurs his horse and cometh fast,  
And as he runs he sets his spear in rest;  
The tother doth as much, and either's spear,  
The stroke doth in a thousand pieces tear.   

13  
The horsemen with the stroke stur not an inch,  
They both had learned so perfectly to fit,  
But on their horses it did shrewdly pinch,  
Yet Bayard searce his course doth intermit,  
The tother's horse had such a perilous wrinch,  
That marred him quite, and broke his back with it,  
His master that was greatly grieved to see't,  
Forsakes his seat, and takes him to his feet.   

14  
And to Renaldo, that with naked hand  
Came toward him in show of truce, he said,  
Sir knight I give you here to understand,  
I liked so well this horse that here is ded,  
I think it would not with mine honour stand,  
To leave him unrevengd, which hath me led  
To challenge you, e'en as you are true knight,  
That you will answer me again in fight.   

15  
Renaldo answered, if your horse you lost,  
The only cause of this your quarrel be,  
Then comfort you, for of mine only cost,  
Your want herein shall be supplied by me,  
With such a horse, as I may boldly boast,  
To be as good a one as cre was he:  
Not so fit, said the tother, you mistake it,  
I will expound my mind, and plainer make it.   

16  
Though I lykt well my serviceable horse,  
Yet sith he now is in this conflict flame,  
Think not that of his death I so much force,  
As that alone moves me to fight again;  
But in plain terms on foot to true your force,  
As well as erst on horseback I would sane.  
Renaldo, that of no man's force accounted,  
Without delay strait from his horse dismounted.   

17  
And sith (quoth he) I see your noble mind,  
Of this my company hath no suspicion,  
They shall go on, and I will stay behind,  
And so will fight with you on e'en condition.  
This said, his band to part thence he assigned,  
Who went their way upon their Lord's commission,  
Which bred great admiration in the stranger,  
To find a man so little fearing danger.   

18  
Now when his standard quite was out of sight,  
And all Renaldoes company was gone,  
Then hand to hand they do apply the fight,  
With force and fury great they lay it on;  
Each marvels at the tother's passing might,  
And yet of either side the gain is none,  
They felt the blows so heavy and so hard,  
That glad they were to lie well to their ward.   

19  
Thus these two knights, for honours only sake,  
Together combat in such eager fort,  
That every little error they should make,  
Endangered life in this unpleasant sport:  
An hour and half this travel they did take,  
Each labouring to cut the other short,  
And in his mind Renaldo marvels much,  
Who this should be, whose skill and force was such.   

20  
And, save that he could not with his reputation,  
He would have wished the battle at an end,  
And offered of a truce communication,  
And of his unknown foe have made his friend:  
Likewise the tother felt such inclination,  
Now finding scarce he could himself defend,  
That he repented has rash hardy part,  
And would have had a truce with all his hart.   

21  
It waxed dark there fell an evening mist,  
So that at last they neither of them know,  
When he did hit aright, or when he missed,  
Nor how to give, nor how to ward a blow:  
When first Renaldo wished him to desist,  
Sith now the Sun descended was so low,  
And that the combat might be now reiourned,  
Till Phoebus were about the world returned.   

22  
Offering (at which the stranger greatly musd,  
And his rare courtesy therein commended)  
To lodge him where he should both be well used,  
And like a man of honour well attended:  
The tother his great curtsy not refused,  
And so between them two the fray was ended:  
And strait Renaldo gave him as his gift,  
His page's horse, that was both strong and swift.   

23  
Thus on they road unto Renaldoes tent,  
And grew acquainted ere they thither came,  
By means in certain speeches as they went,  
Renaldo happened to tell his name;  
By which the stranger knew incontinent,  
That this was that same Palladine of same,  
And that himself was to Renaldo brother,  
By father's side alone, and not by mother.   

24  
The savage Guidon, this brave warrior height,  
That traveled had full many a hundred mile,  
With those two brothers, named the black and white,  
And Sansonet, until by craft and guile  
They were surprised, as you heard last night,  
And made against their wills to wait a while,  
For maintenance of laws unjust and bad,  
That wicked Pinnabell devised had.   

25  
Now when as noble Guidon certain knew  
That this Renaldo was, whom he before  
Desired long to see, he much did rue  
That he had done, and did lament it sore:  
A blind man would not be more glad to view  

Simile.  The light, he doubted he should near see more,  
Then Guidon in his mind was well paid,  
To see this knight, and thus to him he said.   

26  
What stranger mishap, what sinister adventure,  
Hath bred this fault in me, my noble Lord,  
That I with you into this strife should enter,  
With whom I ought to have all kind accord?  
I am your father's son, not by one venture,  
I ever have your name and stock adored,  
Guidon I height, Constanza was my mother,  
Borne beyond Euxin seas, and yet your brother.   

27  
Wherefore I pray, pardon my fond offence,  
That have in steed of duty offered wrong,  
And tell me wherein I may recompense  
This oversight, and I will do ere long:  
Renaldo that had heard of him long since,  
And to have seen him did not little long,  
Embraced him, and not only did forgive him,  
But commendation great and praise did give him.   

28  
He said his value was a perfect sign,  
To show himself in fight so fierce and stout,  
That he was truly come of that same line,  
Whose noble brute was blown the world about:  
For if your manners did to peace incline,  

Sent. Nes imbellem fero'es progemerant aguila columba●.  Then had there been (said he) more cause of doubt,  
The fearful Hart comes not of Lion's seed,  
Nor doth a silly Dove a Falcon breed.   

29  
Thus fell they two acquainted on the way,  
And talked together friendly as they went,  
But neither did their talk the journey stay,  
Nor did their riding make their speech relent,  
Until they came where all their brothers lay,  
When as a great part of the night was spent,  
Who with great joy and pleasure did behold them,  
And chief when who this was Renaldo told them.   

30  
For though he must to them (no doubt) have ever  
Been very welcome as a brother dear,  
Yet could he be to them more welcome never,  
Then now, what time as you before did hear,  
They all did mind to do their best endeavour  
To rescue Charles that was of heavy cheer:  
Wherefore for this one cause above the rest,  
He was unto them all a welcome guest.   

31  
Thus now the day ensuing on went Guidon,  
joining himself unto Renaldoes crew,  
And as to Paris walls they forward ride on,  
They met two valiant youths that well him knew:  
Further with them conferring, they descried one,  
A Lady richly clad, and fair of hue:  
These warlike youths had Gismond to their mother, 
Griff●●. Aguiland, Fur de 〈◊〉.   
White Griffiin, and black Aquilant his brother.   

32  
Now Guidon knew them, and to them was known,  
As having been together many days,  
By whom they were unto Renaldo shown,  
And praised for gallant men at all assays:  
As in your judgement, likewise in mine own,  
(Renaldo said) these youths do merit praise,  
For they have oft been proved two perfect warriors,  
As well in spite as sport, at tilt and barriers.   

33  
Renaldo did by their apparel know them,  
Tone ever wearing white, the other black,  
And friendly countenance he now did show them,  
Chiefly because the King did succour lack:  
Wherefore into his band he doth bestow them,  
That band that to the Turks must bring much wrack,  
And they do join them to Renaldoes banner,  
Forgetting all old jars in loving manner.   

34  
Between the house of Ammon and these twins,  
About one Truffaldin a jar there fell,  
The matter at the first not worth two pins,  
Wherefore the circumstance I will not tell,  
But now Renaldo their affection wins,  
By using them so courteously and well,  
For courteous speech and usage mild and kind, 
Sentence.   
Wipes malice out of every noble mind.   

35  
Now after these another knight there came, 
Sansonet.   
Height Sansonet a man of great account,  
Who welcomed was, and took it for no shame,  
Of stout Renaldoes band himself to count:  
While this thus past, behold the gallant dame,  
That knew this noble Lord of Clarimount,  
(For she was one that all the French Lords knew)  
Told him a tale that made him greatly rue.   

36  

●●debege to 〈◊〉  My Lord (sai● she) I bring you sorry tiding,  
He whom the Church and Empire held so dear,  
Runs all about, in no one place abiding,  
Of sense and argument deprived clear:  
He naked goes, not natures secrets hiding,  
Which me to tell, and you must grieve to hear,  
Orlando, that same light and lamp of France,  
Hath lost his wits, God knows by what mischance.   

37  
His arms and sword that he away had thrown,  
As things by him left and forsaken clearly,  
I saw a courteous knight, to me unknown,  
But one (it seemed) that loved Orlando dearly,  
Them gather where they scattered were and sown,  
And e'en of charity as seemed merely,  
In triumph wise on tree he hanged the same,  
And underneath he graved Orlando's name.   

38  
But strait the sword that hanged on the tree,  
With force and scornful speech away was ta'en,  
(As I can witness well that did it see)  
By Mandricard the son of Agricane:  
Think you what hurt this will to Europe be,  
That once again the Turks have Durindane;  

●●was Zarbano  The gentle knight strove long with him to save it,  
But in the end was forced to let him have it.   

39  
I saw Orlando late in monstrous guise,  
To run about uncouth and all unclad,  
With strangest clamours and most hideous cries:  
In fine I do conclude that he is mad;  
And save I saw it so with these mine eyes,  
I would not trust if any told it had.  
She further told how she had seen him later,  
With Rodomont to tumble in the water.   

40  
And last of all she told him she had heard,  
How that about this sword there grew some strife,  
Between Gradasso stout and Mandricard;  
And how the Tartar having lost his life,  
The sword was given Gradasso afterward,  
As over all the Pagan camp was rife:  
And having ended this so sad narration,  
Thereto she addeth this short exhortation.   

41  
That he and every one that were not foe  
To stout Orlando, would take so much pain,  
In Paris or elsewhere him to bestow,  
Till he had purged his distempered brain:  
Mine husband Brandimart (said she) I know,  
To do him any good himself would strain:  
Thus Fiordeliege spoke, the loving wife  
Of Brandimart, that loved her as his life.   

42  
At this strange tale and woeful accident,  
Such inward grief the good Renaldo felt,  
That with the thought, his heart incontinent  
Did seem like snow against the Sun to melt,  
And with all speed he might, to go he meant,  
And by all means he might so to have dealt,  
To seek Orlando, whom if he can find,  
He hopes to bring him to a better mind.   

43  
But sigh he now had thither brought his band,  
Or were't the will of God, or were it chance,  
He first doth mind to end the cause in hand,  
And rescue Paris and the king of France;  
Wherefore he makes his men all quiet stand  
Till night, 
They use in camp to divide the night into four watches.  what time himself will lead the dance,  
And then between the fourth and second watch,  
He means at once the matter to dispatch.   

44  
He makes his men lie close for all that day,  
By way of Ambuscado in a wood,  
And ease themselves and horses all they may,  
And take the sustenance of rest and food,  
The place within three leagues of Paris lay,  
And when the Sun was set, he thought it good,  
What time the world doth use his lesser lamp,  
To Paris ward to move his silent camp.   

45  
And as he purposed, he performed in deed,  
For strait himself, with that same gallant grew,  
Set out by night, as first they had decreed,  
In silent sort suspicion to eschew.  
Now came the time that they must do the deed,  
Now near unto the Turkish camp they drew,  
When first the heedless Sentinels entrapping,  
They killed them all, because they took them napping.   

46  
The watch once slain they are no longer dumb,  
But after stout Renaldo soon they came,  
They sound the trumpet, and strike up the drum,  
And calling still upon that noble name,  
That often had the Pagans overcome,  
(I mean Renaldoes house of Montalbane)  
Which cry he cauld both his own men to quicken,  
And that the Turks might in more fear be stricken.   

47  
Himself well mounted on his famous horse,  
Doth press amidst the Pagan Princes tents,  
And with his own, and with his horses force,  
He treads them down, and all in pieces rents,  
Unarmed or armed he kills without remorse,  
Who ever cometh in his way reputes,  
The drowsy men half armed make poor resistance  
Against so brave a man with such assistance.   

48  
For why, beside those men I named before,  
Whose virtue and whole value oft were shown,  
Renaldo had six hundred men and more,  
All perfect trained, of strength and courage known,  
Which about Clarimont he kept in store,  
For his own use and causes of his own,  
Though at this need his Princes turn to furnish,  
He soon agreed his own towns to unfurnish.   

49  
And though Renaldo had no great revenue,  
The which chief sinews unto war affords, 
Sentence.   
Yet kept he still six hundred in rennue,  
What with good usage and with gentle words,  
That all of them did still with him continue,  
At his command with lances, horse and swords;  
Nor was there any that from him away went,  
Though divers others offered greater payment.   

50  
Now think when this brave crew the Turks assailed,  
At unawares half wake or half asleep,  
How that same name and that same noise them quailed,  
How here they fled and there, with hold and keep:  
But smally flight, and less their fight prevailed;  

Simile  But even as Goats from Lions, or as sheep  
From Wolves make small defence, such in comparison  
These Pagans made against Renaldoes garrison.   

51  
On other side king Charles (that by espial)  
Had notice of Renaldoes coming hither,  
With all that crew so noble and so loyal,  
That to his aid combined were together,  
With divers Lords came forth in person royal,  
And all his men of arms likewise came thither:  
Eke Brandimart, rich Monodontes heir,  
Did with king Charles unto the field repair.   

52  
Whom when his spouse, that near about did ho●er,  
Had found out by his standard and his arms,  
And plainly saw it was her dearest lover,  
She rusheth in among the men of arms,  
And unto him herself she doth discover,  
Who strait embraced her in open arms;  
And leaving then the battle drew apart,  
That each to other might their minds impart.   

53  
And after sweet embracing oftentimes,  
They did confer together of their state:  
Overtue of those unsuspicious times,  
When Ladies early wander might and late,  
And yet be faultless deemed, and free of crimes,  
Where now each small suspect turns love to hate,  
Yea e'en for all their watching and safe keeping,  
They doubt their wives do wake while they are sleeping.   

54  
Among the conference this couple had,  
The Lady did unto her spouse unfold,  
How his good friend Orlando was fallen mad,  
How she herself his madness did behold,  
His running naked, careless and unclad,  
Not credible had any else it told,  
But credible it was now she had said it,  
For in far greater things he gave her credit.   

55  
She further did to Brandimart recount,  
How she had seen the bridge the Pagan made,  
(I mean the cruel Pagan Rodomount)  
Upon the stream so deep as none could wade,  
Where he the passengers of best account,  
Did from each side with fury great invade,  
And with the spoils of those he killed and took,  
Did beautify a tomb made by the brook.   

56  
And last she told how with his strength extreme,  
Orlando heaved the Turk armed from the ground,  
And so with him fell backward in the stream,  
With peril great there to have both been drowned,  
From whence Orlando went about the Ream,  
Where his mad parts would make him soon be found.  
This tale in Brandimart did breed such sorrow,  
He stayed not for the next ensuing morrow.   

57  
But taking for his guide fair Fiordeliege,  
And being ready armed, as than he was,  
He goeth to seek that foresaid perilous bridge,  
In mind (what ever hap) the same to pass,  
Where many men their lives line did abridge,  
As in such dangers soon it comes to pass:  
No sooner came he to the utmost ward,  
But Rodomont had notice by his guard.   

58  
He greatly did to hear such news rejoice,  
And strait he cometh forth with warlike gesture,  
And bids him with a loud and scornful voice,  
Unto the tomb to yield his arms and vesture,  
Or threatens him if he refuse this choice,  
To make him drink beyond all good disgesture:  
But Brandimart his threats did nothing fear,  
And makes no answer, but with couched spear.   

59  
Then strait to horse's side he sets the spurs,  
The horse he road upon Batoldo height,  
The horse though good, yet snores, and starts & stirs,  
Much scared with narrow bridge and waters sight:  
Eke Rodomont his good Frontino spurs,  
Who never starts, as used to this fight,  
Although the bridge did shake all under feet,  
When in the middle way these knights did meet.   

60  
Their spears that were of firm well seasoned wood,  
With so great force upon their armour strake,  
That though their horses were both strong & good,  
Yet both fell from the bridge into the lake,  
Quite overwhelmd with water and with mood,  
Yet neither horseman did his horse forsake;  
Long tarried they within the stream below,  
To search if any Nymph dwelled there, I trow.   

61  
This had not been the first time nor the fifth,  
That from this bridge the Turk had been thrown down,  
Wherefore his horse and he could better shift,  
For neither horse nor he did doubt to drown;  
For where the stream was most profound and swift  
He often had been plunged above his crown,  
Which made his horse and him the more audacious  
Amid the stream, although profound and spacious.   

62  
He knew by proof (for he had tried it oft)  
Where all the shelves, and where the channel lay,  
Which parts were gravelly, and which were soft:  
The other ignorant, was borne away,  
Tossed here and there, now low, and then aloft,  
The while the Pagan greedy of his prey,  
At all advantages doth still assail him,  
Whose horses footing more and more did fail him.   

63  
At last with plunging and with striving tired,  
He backward fell into the weeds and mud,  
Where he was like to have been drowned and mired,  
Save that his spouse that by the river stood,  
In humble wise the Pagan Prince desired,  
And in most earnest manner that she could,  
e'en for her sake, whose ghost he did adore,  
To help her worthy knight unto the shore.   

64  
Ah gentle fit, if ever you did taste,  
Or love (she said) or of a lovers passion,  
Save that same knight, on whom my love is placed,  
And let him not be drowned in so vile fashion:  
Suffice it you, your tomb will be more graced,  
With one such prisoner of such reputation,  
Then hunderds other, that shall here arrive;  
Then take his spoils, and save himself alive.   

65  
These words that might have moved a stone I think,  
Moved him to rescue noble Brandimart,  
Who without thirst had ta'en such store of drink,  
As from his limbs, his life did welny part:  
But ere he brought him to the rivers brink,  
He caused him with his sword and arms depart,  
And made him swear now he was in his power,  
To yield himself true prisoner to his tower.   

66  
The dame of comfort all was quite be reaved,  
When as she saw how ill her spouse had sped,  
And yet less grief of this chance she conceived,  
Then if he had been in the water dead:  
She calls herself the cause that he received  
This harm, that fond had him thither led,  
Into a place of danger such and iopardie,  
As needs must hazard either life or liberty,   

67  
About the place in vain she long did hover,  
Then parted she in mind to seek some knight,  
Of Charles his camp, that might her loss recover,  
And prove himself, though not more strong in fight  
At least more fortunate than was her lover:  
Long did she travel all that day and night,  
And eke the day ensuing, ere she met one,  
Yet was it her good hap at last to get one.   

68  

〈◊〉 Bradr●●, as appears ●●be 35. book. stanze.  A champion in a rich attire she met,  
All wrought with withered leaves of Cypress tree,  
Hereafter I will tell you, but not yet,  
What wight this was, whether a he or she:  
Now turn I to the camp, lest I forget  
The noble knights that set their sovereign free;  
I mean Renaldo and his new come brother,  
With cunning Malagige and many other.   

69  
Unpossible it was account to keep,  
Of those were killed that night, and those that fled,  
Fierce Agramant was wakened from his sleep,  
And with all speed that might be, up he sped,  
He weighs the peril and the danger deep,  
His soldiers run away near making head:  
Marsillo, with Sobrino and the rest,  
Wish him to fly, for fear he be distressed.   

70  
Advising him, sith fortune now 'gan frown,  
Unto this tempest wisely to give place,  
And go to Arly, or some other town,  
So strong to dure assault no little space:  
So might he save his person and his crown,  
As first was to be cared for in such case;  
And then with wisdom warily proceeding,  
To wait till time might serve of better speeding.   

71  
Thus Agramant, to so great danger brought,  
Well knew not what to do, nor what to say,  
But did as by his counsel he was taught,  
And in great haste conveyed himself away:  
The while much woe unto his men was wrought,  
The Christens them discomfit, kill and slay:  
The darkness caused the number be unknown,  
That in this fight were killed and overthrown.   

72  
With haste full many were in water drowned,  
That saw there was no safety in the land,  
More succour in their heels then hands they found  
Against such fierce assailants few durst stand;  
But greatest damage did to them redound,  
By those six hundred of Renaldoes band:  
Who did distribute strokes in so great plenty,  
As every one of them massacred twenty.   

73  
Some think that Malagigi played his part,  
In this conflict not wounding men nor slaying,  
But making of their foes by Magic art,  
To hear so huge a noise of horses naying,  
Such found of Drums, such shouts from every part,  
As all the world had vowed their decaying:  
By which they all were stricken in such fear,  
As not a man of them durst tarry there.   

74  
Yet though the Turkish Prince fled thence so fast,  
The brave Rogero, he would not forget,  
But caused him from danger to be placed,  
And on an easy paced horse him set:  
Thus now the Turks were by the Christens chaste,  
And glad they were a walled town to get:  
But yet Gradasso and his valiant band,  
Did still unto their tackle stoutly stand.   

75  
Nay, which was more, when as he understood,  
How that Renaldo Palladine of France,  
Was he that shed such store of Turkish blood,  
He was so glad he ready was to dance;  
He thanks his Gods that were to him so good,  
To send him this so much desired chance,  
By which he hopes and makes account most clearly,  
To win that horse Renaldo held so dearly.   

76  
For why, Gradasso king of Serycane,  
Long since to France came with an army Ryal,  
With only hope to conquer Durindan,  
That famous blade of so good proof and trial:  
And eke Renaldoes courser to have ta'en,  
That Bayard height: and now when by espial,  
He knew Renaldo was on that beast mounted,  
The conquest sure, the horse his own he counted.   

77  
So much the rather, for that once before,  
About this matter they had made a fray,  
Fast by the sea upon the sandy shore;  
(To tell the circumstance I may not stay)  
But Malagigi thence his cousin bore,  
And did into a barge him sale convey:  
And thereupon Renaldo ever since,  
Was ta'en but for a coward by this Prince.   

78  
Wherefore in hope so rich a spoil to reap,  
Two hours before the rising of the son,  
All armed on Alfana he doth leap,  
And with his lance to death are divers done;  
On French the moors, on moors he French doth heap,  
And all he meeteth he doth overrun:  
So did ambition set his heart on fire,  
To meet Renaldo, such was he desire,   

79  
Soon after this each met with spear in rest,  
(But neither then at first the tothers knew)  
Each broke his spear upon the other crest,  
Unto the heavenly car the splinters flew:  
Then with their swords either was ready priest,  
(Their lances thrown away, their swords they drew)  
Each laying on the other so fell strokes,  
As if not knights had fought, but clowns field oaks.   

80  
Gradasso though he knew him not by sight,  
(For yet the morning beams were not displayed)  
Yet did he gues●e both by the horses might,  
And those fierce strokes the tother on him laid;  
Wherefore with words that savord scorn and spite,  
He strait begins Renaldo to upbraid:  
And said he had his challenge disappointed,  
And not appeared at the day appointed.   

81  
Belike you thought I should have met you never,  
But now (said he) you here are met right well,  
Assure yourself I will pursue you ever,  
Were you ta'en up to heaven, or down to hell;  
No height nor depth, should hinder mine endeavour,  
I mean to find you out where ear you dwell,  
To shun the fight with meit doth not boot,  
Until you leave your horse and go on foot.   

82  
At this his speech, were divers standing by,  
As Guidon, Richarder, and others more,  
Who would have slain Gradasso by and by,  
Had not Renaldo stepped them before,  
And said in wrath, what masters am not I,  
Well able wreak my private wrongs therefore?  
Then to the Pagan gently thus he spoke,  
And wished him mark the answer he did make,   

83  
Who ever faith, that I did fight eschew,  
Or ●hew defect of value any way,  
I say and do avouch he faith untrue,  
And I will prove by combat what I say;  
I came unto the place to meet with you,  
No ● cuses I did seek, not no delay,  
And frankly here to you I offer fight,  
But first I wish you were informed right.   

84  
Then took he him aside, and more at large,  
He told what happened him and how by art,  
His cousin Malagige into a barge  
Conveyed him, and forced him to depart:  
In fine himself, of blame quite to discharge,  
He brought him out to witness every part,  
And then to prove that this was true indeed,  
He offered in the combat to proceed.   

85  
Gradasso that both courteous was, and stout,  
Gave ear unto the tale Renaldo told,  
And though it seemed he stood thereof in doubt,  
Yet him in all his speech he not controlled:  
But in conclusion, having heard it out,  
He doth his former purpose firmly hold:  
Which was by combat fierce to try and know,  
If so he could Bayardo win or no.   

86  
The Palladine that passed not a point  
Of no man's force, to meet him gave his word:  
The place in which to meet they did appoint,  
Was near a wood, and by a pleasant ford,  
There only added was a further point;  
Which was that Duriudan, Orlando's sword,  
Should to Renaldo as of right accrue,  
If he the Pagan overcame or slew.   

87  
Thus for the present time departed they,  
Until the time approached of pointed fight,  
Although Renaldo friendly did him pray,  
To rest him in his tent that day and night:  
And offered frank safe conduit for his stay,  
So courteous was this same courageous knight:  
Gradasso greatly praised the noble offer,  
But yet refused the curtsy he did proffer.   

88  
The fear was great that secretly did lurk,  
In all the minds of all Renaldoes kin,  
Who knew the strength and cunning of this Turk  
Was such, as doubt it was which side should win:  
Feign Malagigi by his art would work,  
To end this fray, before it should begin:  
Save that he feared Renaldoes utter enmity,  
In so base sort for working his indemnity.   

89  
But though his friends did fear more than was meet,  
Himself assured himself of good success:  
Now at the pointed time and place they meet,  
Both at one very instant, as I guess,  
And first they kindly do embrace and greet  
The tone the tother with all gentleness,  
But how sweet words did turn to bitter blows,  
The next book saving one, the sequel shows.   

Moral.  In the xxxi, Canto I find little worth any special noting, but that which in the beginning of the book is said against 〈◊〉, which is one of thethree incurable diseases noted in our old English Proverb: From Heresy, frenzy, and Icalsousie, good Lord deliver me. The rest of the book hath no new matter, but such as hath been noted before: and therefore I will end this little space with this short note.  
Here end the Notes of the xxxj.   

  

THE XXXII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Good Bradamant Rogero long expecteth,  
But heareth news that touch her very nigh,  
How he all other loves beside neglecteth,  
To wed Marfisa, thus the farne doth fly:  
To Arly Bradamant her course directeth,  
To kill Marfisa, or herself to die:  
Three kings and Vllany, she doth subdue,  
Those with her spear, and this with passing hue.  

1  

The first fifty slaves of this 32. book are of one the● translator as you shall be noted in some part of the notes upon this book.  I Now remember how by promise bound,  
Before this time, I should have made you know,  
Upon what cause fair Bradamant did ground,  
The realouse humours over charged her so:  
She never took before so fore a wound,  
She never felt before such bitter woe,  
No not the tale which Richardett, told her,  
In such a fit, and so great pangs did hold her.   

2  
To tell you first, when I should have begun,  
Renaldo called my tale another way;  
No sooner with Renaldo had I done,  
But strait with Guidon I was forced to stay:  
From this to that, thus unawares I ton,  
That I forgot of Bradamant to say:  
But now I mean to speak of her before  
I speak of those two champions any more.   

3  
Yet needs I borrow must a word or twain,  

Look hereof in the Moral.  How Agramant to Arly d d retire,  
And gathered there the few that did remain,  
Escaped from the fury of the fire:  
Where not far off, from Africa nor Spain,  
He plants as fit as he could we I desire,  
For lying on a flood so near the seas,  
Both men and victual were supplied at ease.   

4  
To muster men. Marsilio had commission,  
That may supply the place of them were lost,  
Of ships of war there was no small provision,  
Soon had he gathered up a mighty host:  
There was no want of armour and munition,  
There was no spare of labour nor of cost,  
That with such taxes, Africa was sessed,  
That all the Cities were full sore oppressed.   

5  
And further Agramant, that he might win  
Fierce Rodomont, to aid him with his power,  
Did offer him a match of his near kin,  
King Almonts daughter with a Realm in dower,  
But he his proffer weys not worth a pin,  
But keeps the bridge and doth the passage scour,  
That with his spoils the place was welny filled,  
Of those he had dismounted, ta'en, and killed.   

6  
But fair Marfisa took another way:  
For when she heard how long the siege had lasted,  
How Agramant his camp at Arly lay,  
How both his men were slain, and store was wasted,  
She sought no cause of any more delay,  
But thither strait without inviting hasted,  
Her purse and person offering in the fight,  
In just defending of his crown and right.   

7  
She brings Brunello, and the king she gave him,  
Who had given cause of very just offence,  
Ten days and ten, she did of curtsy save him,  
To see who durst to stand in his defence;  
But when y no man made the means to have him,  
Though she to kill him had so good pretence,  
She thought it base, her noble hands to file,  
Upon an abject dastard, and a vile.   

8  
She will defer revenge of all his wrong;  
And unto Arly brought him to the king;  
Whose joy to tell, would ask a learned tongue,  
Both for the aid, and present she did bring:  
(For show whereof, before it should be long,  
He offered her to make Brunello wring:  
And at what time she pleased to appoint,  
To have him sent to crack his chiefest joint.)   

9  

〈◊〉 the 〈…〉  Unto some desert place he banished was,  
To serve for meat for carrion crows and pies,  
Rogero that had helped him oft (alas)  
Now cannot hear his piteous moans and cries:  
He lies sore wounded, as it comes to pass,  
And littles knows where poor Brunello lies:  
And when he understands thereof at last,  
It is so late already it is past.   

10  
This while what torments Bradamant endured,  
Those twenty days, how did she wail and mourn?  
Against which time she thought herself assured▪  
Her love to her, and to the faith should turn:  
She makes no doubt but he might have procured,  
Within that space to make his home return,  
(Yea though he were in prison kept or banished)  
If troth and care of promise were not vanished.   

11  
In this long looking she would often blame,  
The fiery coursers of the heavenly light,  

in the 〈◊〉 of this book saith thus men's: sum fruel● lumps re● Lauserum 〈◊〉 He●●esse.  She thought that Phoebus wheels were out of frame,  
Or that his chariot was not in good plight:  
Great josuahs' day seemed shorter than these same,  
And shorter seemed the false Amphitrions' night:  
Each day and night she thought was more than doubled  
So fancy blind, her sense and reason troubled.   

12  
She now envies the Dormouse of his rest,  
And wished some heavy sleep might overtake her,  
Where with she might most deadly be possessed,  
Till her Rogero should return to wake her:  
But waking cares ay lodged in her breast,  
That her desired sleep did quite forsake her:  
To sleep so long doth so much pass her power,  
She cannot frame her eyes to wink one hour.   

13  
But turns and tosses in her restless bed,  
(Alas no turning turns her cares away)  
Oft at the window she puts forth her head,  
To see how near it waxeth unto day;  
When by the dawning, darksome night is fled,  
She notwithstanding stands at that same stay:  
And during all the time the day doth last,  
She wishes for the night again as fast.   

14  
When fifteen days were of the twenty spent,  
She grows in hope that his approach is nigh,  
Then from a tower with eyes to Paris bent,  
She waits and watches if she can descry  
At least some messenger that he hath sent,  
May bring the news where her sweet heart doth lie:  
And satisfy her mind by what hard chance,  
He is constrained to stay so long in France.   

15  
If far aloof the shine of armour bright,  
Or any thing resembling it she spies,  
She straightway hopes it is her only knight,  
And wipes her face and clears her blubbered eyes:  
If any one unarmed do come in sight,  
It may be one from him, she doth surmise:  
And though by proof she find each hope untrue,  
She ceaseth not for that, to hope anew.   

16  
Sometime all armed she mounteth on her steed,  
And so rides forth in hope to meet her dear,  
But soon some fancy her concert doth feed,  
That he is past some other way more near:  
Then homeward hasteth she with as much speed,  
Yet she at home no news of him can hear:  
From day to day she passeth on this fashion,  
Hither and thither tossed with her passion.   

17  
Now when her twenty days were full expired,  
And that beside were passed some days more,  
Yet not Rogero come, whom she desired,  
Her heart with care and sorrows waxed sore;  
With cries & plaints, the woods and caves she tired,  
Her breasts she beat, her golden locks she tore,  
Not while these gripes of grief her heart embrace,  
Doth she forbear her eyes or Angel's face.   

18  
Why then (quoth she) beseems it me it vain,  
To seek him still, who thus from me doth slide?  
Shall I esteem of him that doth disdain,  
My suit, and scorn the torments I abide?  
Him, in whose heart a hate of me doth rain,  
Him, that accounts his virtues so well tried,  
As though some goddess should from heaven descéd  
Before that he his heart to love would bend?   

19  
Though stout he is, he knows how well I love him,  
And how I honour him with soul and hart,  
Yet can my hot affection nothing move him,  
To let me of his love possess some part:  
And left he might perceive it would behove him,  
To ease my grief, if he did know my smart,  
To give me hearing of my plaint he fears,  
As to the charm the Adder stops his ears.   

20  
Love; stop his course that doth so loosely range,  
And flit so fast before my sorry pace;  
Or with my former state else let me change,  
When I sought not to track thy tedious trace:  
I hope in vain; remorse to thee is strange,  
Thou dost triumph upon my piteous case:  
For hearts thy meat, 
Sentence against love.  thy drink is lovers tears,  
Their cries the Music doth delight thine ears.   

21  
But whom blame I? it was my fond desire,  
That first entist me to this kill call,  
And made me past my reach so far aspire,  
That now I feel the greater is my fall:  
For when aloft my wings be touched with fire,  
Then farewell flight and I am left to fall:  
But still they spring, and still I upward tend,  
And still I see my fall, and find no end.   

22  
Desire quoth I? myself I was too light,  
To give desire an entrance in my breast,  
Who when he had my reason put to flight,  
And of my heart himself was full possessed,  
No room for joy is left, or heart's delight,  
Since I do harbour this untruly guest,  
Who though he guide me to my certain fall,  
The long expectance grieves me worst of all.   

23  
Then mine the fault be, if it be a fault,  
To love a knight deserves to be beloved,  
With all good inward parts so richly fraught,  
Whose virtues be so known, and well approved;  
And more, whom would not his sweet face have caught?  
Myself, I must confess, his beauty moved:  
What blind unhappy wretch were she would shun,  
The pleasing prospect of the precious Sun?   

24  
Beside my destiny which drew me on,  
By others sugared speech I was entrained,  
As though I should by this great match anon,  
Another Paradise on earth have gained:  
But now their words into the wind be gone,  
And I in Purgatory am restrained:  
Well may I Merlin curse the false deceiver,  
Yet my Rogero I shall love for ever.   

25  
I hoped of Merlin's and Melissa's promises,  
Who did such stories of our race foretell:  
Is this the profit of believing prophecies,  
And giving credit to the spirits of hell?  
Alas they might have found them better offices,  
Then me to flout that trusted them so well:  
But all for envy have they wrought me this,  
So to bereave me of my former bliss.   

26  
Thus sighs and lamentations are not feigned,  
Small place was left for comfort in her breast:  
Yet spite of sorrows hope was entertained,  
And though with much a do, yet in it priest;  
To ease her mourning heart when she complained,  
And giving her sometimes, some little rest,  
By sweet remembrance of the words he spoke,  
When he was forced of her his leave to take.   

27  
The minding of those words did so recure,  
Her wounded heart that she was well content,  
For one months' space his absence to endure,  
Yea when his days of promise quite were spent:  
Yet still she looked for him you may be sure,  
And many a time that way she came and went,  
Till by the way at last such news she hard,  
That all the hope she had before, was marred.   

28  
For she by chance did meet a Cascoigne knight,  
That in the wars of Africa was caught,  
One that was taken captive in that fight,  
Then when fore Paris the great field was fought.  
What she requires to know, he could recite,  
But careless of the other news he brought,  
Of her Rogero chiefly she inquires,  
To hear of him is all that she desires.   

29  
Of whom the knight could let her understand,  
(For in that Court he late his life had led)  
How Mandricard and he fought hand to hand,  
And how much blood on either part was shed:  
And though by wounds himself in peril stand,  
That he subdued his foe, and left him ded.  
Now if with this, his story he had ended,  
Rogeros' excuse had very well been mended.   

30  
But he proceeds to tell, how one was there,  
A Lady height Marfisa in the field,  
Whose fame for martial acts did shine most clear,  
Whose beauty rare to few or none did yield.  
Rogero her, she held Rogero dear,  
They never were asunder or but ceil;  
And that they two, as every one there saith,  
The tone the tother plighted have their faith.   

31  
And if Rogero once were whole and sound,  
Their wedding should be celebrated with speed;  
That such a pair as yet was never found,  
And happy they should come of such a seed:  
How much it joyed the Pagan Princes round,  
To think upon the race they two should breed,  
Which likely were all others to excel  
In feats of arms that erst on earth did dwell.   

32  
The Gascoigne knight of all that he had said,  
Himself had reason to believe was sooth,  
So general a fame thereof was spread,  
There were but few but had it in their mouth.  
Some little kindness she did use, had fed  
Their foolish humours of this false untrowth;  
Still fame will grow if once abroad it fly, 
〈◊〉   
Although the ground be troth or be a lie.   

33  
They came indeed together to this fight,  
And many times together they were seen,  
For he was warlike, stout and worthy knight,  
And she a gallant, fair, and dainty Queen,  
By which, suspicion never judging right,  
Did gather strait they had assured been:  
And specially because when she departed,  
To visit him she was so soon reverted.   

34  
Of just suspect their reason was put slènder,  
If they had weighed well their virtues rate,  
Though of his wounds she seemed to be so tender,  
And of his danger had so great a care;  
Against bad tongues no goodness can defend her,  
For those most free from faults, 
Sentence  they lest will spare,  
But prate of them whom they have scantly known,  
And judge their humours to be like their own.   

35  
Now when the knight avowd the tale he told,  
(And yet in truth you know 'twas but a tale)  
The damsels heart was touched with shivering cold,  
The little hope she had away it stale,  
Almost in sound her seat she scarce could hold:  
With mourning cheer, and face both wan and pale,  
She said no more: but mad with grief and ire,  
Her horse she turned, and homeward did retire.   

36  
And all in armour on her bed she lies,  
She wished a thousand times she now were ded,  
She bites the sheets to damp her sobs and cries,  
The Gascoigns news still bearing in her head:  
Her heart is swollen, and blubbered be her eyes,  
With trickling tears bedewed is her bed,  
When grief would be no longer holden in,  
Needs out it must, and thus it doth begin.   

37  
Ah wretched me, whom might a maiden find,  
In whom she might be bold to put her trust?  
Since you Rogero mine, become unkind,  
And tread your faith and promise in the durst;  
You only you, mine eye so far did blind,  
I still esteemed you faithful, true and just:  
Ah never wench that loved so sincerely,  
Was in requital punished so severely.   

38  
Why (my Rogero) why do you forget?  
(Sith you in beauty pass each other knight,  
And do in feats of arms such honour get,  
As none can match your chivalry in fight)  
This golden virtue with the rest to set,  
By which your glorious name will shine more bright  
If as in other graces you abound,  
So in your promise constancy were found?   

39  
This is the virtue breeds most estimation,  
By which all other virtues show more clear,  
As things most fair do lose their commendation,  
Which by the want of light can not appear:  
What glory was it by false protestation,  
Her to deceive whose Saint and God you were?  
Whom your fair speeches might have made believe  

〈◊〉.  That water would be carride in a seeve.   

40  
From any heinous act wouldst thou restrain,  
That murder'st her who bears thee so good will?  
How wouldst thou use thy foe, that thus in pain,  
Dost let thy friend to be tormented still?  
Thou that with breach of faith thy heart dost stain,  
No doubt thou dost not care for doing ill;  
Well this I know, that God is ever just,  
He will ere long revenge my wrongs I trust.   

41  
For why, unthankfulness is that great sin,  
Which made the Devil and his angels fall,  
Lost him and them the joys that they were in,  
And now in hell detains them bound and thrall:  

〈…〉  Then mark the guerdon thou art like to win;  
For why like faults, like punishment do call,  
In being thus unthankful unto me,  
That always was so faithful unto thee.   

42  
Besides of theft thyself thou canst not quit,  
If theft it be to take that is not thine;  
The keeping of my heart no that's not it,  
That thou shouldst have it I do not repine,  
Thyself thou stalst, which I can not remit,  
Thyself thou know'st thou art, or shouldst be mine,  
Thou know'st damnation doth to them belong,  
That do keep back another's right by wrong.   

43  
Though thou Rogero do forsake me so,  
I can not will nor choose but love thee still;  
And since there is no measure of my woe,  
Death is the only way to end mine ill;  
But thus to cut of life, and thou my foe  
It makes me do it with a worse will;  
Yet had I died when best I did thee please,  
I should have counted death, no death but ease.   

44  
When with these words she was resolved to die,  
She took her sword in hand for that intent,  
And forced herself upon the point to lie;  
Her armour then her purpose did prevent,  
A better spirit checked her by and by:  
And in her heart this secret reason went,  
O noble Lady borne to so great same,  
Wilt thou thus end thy days with so great shame?   

45  
Nay rather if thou be'st resolved to die,  
Unto the camp why dost thou not repair,  
Where bodies of brave knights in heaps do lie?  
Lo there to honour the directest stair,  
The loss of life with glory thou mayst buy,  
To die in thy Rogeros' sight were fair,  
And happily by him thou mayst be slain,  
So he that wrought thy woe, may rid thy pain.   

46  
Thou mayst be sure Marfisa there to see,  
Who hath so falsely stolen away thy friend;  
If first on her thou couldst revenged be,  
With more contented mind thy days would end.  
Unto this counsel she doth best agree,  
And onward on this journey strait doth tend,  
She takes anew device that might imply,  
A desperation, and a will to die.   

47  
The colour of her bases was almost,  
Like to the falling whitish leaves and dry,  
Which when the moisture of the branch is lost,  
Forsakenly about the tree doth lie,  
With Cypress trunks embroidered and embossed,  
(For Cypress once but cut will always die)  
A fine conceit, she thinks to represent,  
In secret sort her inward discontent.   

48  
She took Astolfos horse and Goldélance,  
As fittest both for this her present feat,  
That spear could make the bravest knight to dance,  
And caper with a ●uch beside his seat.  
But where Astolfo had it, by what chance,  
Or why he gave it, need I not repeat,  
She took it, notwithstanding her election,  
Not knowing of that magical confection.   

49  
Thus all alone without both Squire and page,  
Thus furnished she set herself in way,  
To Paris ward she traveled in a rage.  
Whereas the camp of Sarzins lately lay,  
And (as she thought) kept up king Charles in cage,  
Not understanding how before that day,  
Renaldo aiding Charles with Malageege,  
Had forced them from thence to raise their siege.   

50  
Now had she left mount Dordon at her back,  
When little way behind her she descried,  
A gallant Damsel following of her track,  

〈◊〉 Loose in the 〈◊〉, of this shield of gold.  A shield of gold unto her saddle tide;  
Of Squires and other servants none did lack,  
And three brave knights were riding by her side,  
But of the Squires that overtook her last,  
She asked one what those were that by her past.   

51  
And strait the worthy Lady it was told,  
How from Pole Attic that same damsel came,  
Sent from a Queen, with that fair shield of gold,  
Unto king Charles (that there was known by fame)  
But so, as he must this condition hold,  
That on a knight he must bestow the same,  
Such one as he in his imagination,  
For prowess deemed most worthy reputation,   

52  
For she of Island I'll that holds the reign,  
And is (and knows it) that the is most fair,  
Doth think she should her worth not little stain,  
And her great fame and honour much impair,  
It any knight her I'll and her should gain,  
Except he stood so high on honours stair,  
As that he were adjudged in feats of war,  
The prymer man, and passing others far.   

53  
Wherefore the cause she sends to France is this,  
She thinks if she shall find one any where,  
That in the Court of France he surely is:  
And therefore she doth send to greet him there.  
As for those three, because you shall not miss,  
To know the truth, He tell you what they were:  
They were 3 kings, of whom great fame there goth,  
Or Norway one, one Swethland, one of Goth.   

54  
These three, though far they dwell from Island I'll,  
Yet love of that same Queen hath brought the hither,  
This I'll is called Perduta otherwhile,  
Because the seamen lose it in foul weather:  
These kings hued from their country in exile,  
And to this Queen were suitors all together:  
And she that knew not well how to forbid them,  
With this same pretty shift from thence she rid them.   

55  
She saith, she minds to wed for her behoose,  
That wight that most excels in warlike action,  
And though (quoth she) you show no little proof,  
Or value here (as 'twere in private faction)  
Yet I must have you tried more far allofe,  
Before my mind can have full satisfaction:  
Wherefore I mean myself and crown to yield,  
Alone to him that bringeth back my shield.   

56  
This is the cause that these three kings did move,  
Each one to come from to remote a nation,  
With purpose firm their utmost force to prove,  
To win the golden shield with reputation,  
Or lose their hues, for that fair Lady's love,  
If that they failed of their expectation.  
When he had told her thus, he her forsook,  
And soon his company he overtook.   

57  
The Damsel road a softer pace behind,  
And so as in a while she lost their sight,  
And often she revolved in her mind,  
The tale the fellow told, with small delight.  
She doubts this shield bestowed in such a kind,  
Will be in France a cause of brawl and fight,  
That this willbe a means she greatly fears,  
To let her kin together all by th'ears.   

58  
This fancy moved her much, but more than this,  
That formerie alouse fancy did her move,  
That her Rogeroes kindness altered is,  
That on Marsisa he had placed his love:  
This so postest her sense that she did miss  
Her way, nor never thought as did behove,  
Till night was almost come, and Sun nigh set,  
Where she a lodging for herself may get.   

59  
e'en as an empty vessel that was tie, 
Simile.   
Unto the wharse, with some old rotten cable,  
If that the knot do hap to break or slide,  
So that to hold it be no longer able,  
Is borne away, as please the wind and tide:  
So Bradamant, with mind and thoughts unstable,  
Was in such muse, as she the right way mist,  
And so was borne, where Rabicano list.   

60  
But when she saw the Sun was almost set,  
She took more heed, and ask of a clown,  
(A shepherd that by hap there by she met)  
Where she might lodging get er Sun went down  
The shepherd made her answer, that as yet  
She was almost a league from any town,  
Or other place where she might eat or lodge,  
Save at a Castle called sir Tristrams lodge.   

61  
But every one that list, is not assured,  
Thought he do thither come, to stay therein,  
To martial feats they must be well mured.  
With spear and shield they must their lodging win:  
Such custom in the place hath long endured,  
And many years ago it did begin,  
Wherefore 'tis good that one be well advised,  
Ere such an act by him be enterprised.   

62  
In brief thus is their order, 
〈…〉  if a knight  
Do find the lodgings void, they him receive,  
With promise, that if more arrive that night,  
Either he shall to them his lodging leave,  
Or else with each of them shall prove in fight,  
Which of them can of lodging to there reave:  
If none do come that night he shall in quiet,  
Have both his horsemeat, lodging, and his diet.   

63  
If four or five do come together first,  
The Castle keeper them must entertain,  
Who cometh single after, hath the worst,  
For if he hope a lodging there to gain,  
He must (according to that law accursed)  
Fight with all those, that did therein remain:  
Likewise if one come first, and more come later,  
He must go fight with them yet near the later.   

64  
The like case is, if any maid or dame  
Do come alone, or else accompanied,  
Both they that first, and they that latest came,  
Must by a lurie have their beauties tried:  
Then shall the fairest of them hold the same,  
But to the rest that come shall be denied:  
Thus much the shepherd unto her did say,  
And with his finger showed to her the way.   

65  
About three miles was distant than the place,  
The damsel thither hasts with great desire;  
And though that Rabicano troth apace,  
Yet was the way so deep and full of mire,  
The snow and drift still beating in their face,  
She later came than manners good require;  
But though it were as then both dark and late,  
She boldly bounced at the castle gate.   

66  
The porter told her that the lodgings all  
Where filled by knights that late before them took,  
Who now stood by the fire amid the hall,  
And did ere long to have their supper look:  
Well (answers she) then have they cause but small  
(If they be supperless) to thank the cook;  
I know (quoth she) the custom, and will keep it,  
And mean to win their lodging ere I sleep yet.   

67  
The Porter went and did her message bold,  
To those great states then standing by the fire,  
Who took small pleasure when they heard it told,  
For thence to part they had so small desire;  
Now chiefly when 'twas rainy, dark and cold;  
But so their oath and order did require,  
That they must do it, were it cold or warm,  
And therefore quickly they themselves did arm.   

68  
These were those three great kings, whom that same day  
Dame Bradamant had seen but few hours past,  
Thought they had sooner finished their way,  
Because she road so soft, and they so fast.  
Now when they were all armed, they make no stay,  
But all on horseback mount themselves at last:  
No doubt but few in strength these three did pass,  
Yet of those few, sure one this damsel was.   

69  
Who purposed (as it seemeth) nothing less,  
Then in so wet and in so cold a night,  
To lack a lodging and sleep supperless:  
Now those within at windows see the fight,  
The men themselves on horseback do address,  
To look thereon, for why the Moon gave light:  
And thus at last, though first 'twere somewhat late,  
They did abase the bridge and open the gate.   

70  
e'en as a secret and lascivious lover, 
〈◊〉   
Rejoiceth much, when after long delays,  
And many fearest, in which his hope did hover,  
He hears at last the noise of pretty keys:  
So Bradamant that hopes now to recover  
A lodging, for the which so long she stays,  
Did in her mind in such like sort rejoice,  
When as she heard the watchful porters voice.   

71  
Now when those Knights and some few of their train,  
Were past the bridge, the dame her horse doth turn  
To take the field, and then with speed again,  
With full career she doth on them return,  
And couched that spear, yet never couched in vain,  
For whom it hits it still doth overturn;  
This spear her cousin, when he went from France,  
Gave unto her, the name was Goldelance.   

72  
The valiant king of Swethland was the first  
That met her, and the next the king of Goth,  
The staff doth hit them full, and never burst,  
But from their saddles it did heave them both;  
But yet the king of Norway sped the worst,  
It seemed to leave his saddle he was loath,  
His girses broke, and he fell upside down,  
In danger with the mire to choke and drown.   

73  
Thus with three blows, three Kings she down did bear,  
And hoist their heels full high, their heads full low,  
Then entered she the castle void of fear,  
They stand without that night in rain and snow;  
Yet ere she could get in, one caused her swear  
To keep the custom, which they made her know;  
And then the master doth to her great honour,  
And entertainment great bestowed on her.   

74  
Now when the Lady did disarm her head,  
Off with her helmet came her little cawl,  
And all her hair her shoulders overspread,  
And both her sex and name was known withal,  
And wonder great and admiration bred  
In them that saw her make three Princess fall:  
For why she showed to be in all their fight,  
As fair in face as she was fierce in fight.   

75  
e'en as a stage set forth with pomp and pride, 
Simile   
Where rich men cost, and cunning art bestow,  
When curtains be removed that all did hide,  
Doth make by light of torch a glittering show;  
Or as the Sun that in a cloud did bide, 
Simile   
When that is gone, doth clearer seem to grow:  
So Bradamant when as her head was barest,  
Her colour and her beauty seemed rarest.   

76  
Now stood the guests all round about the fire.  
Expecting food, with talk their ears yet feeding  
While every one doth wonder and admire,  
Her speech and grace, the others all exceeding;  
The while her host to tell she doth desire,  
From whence and whom this custom was proceeding,  
That men were driven unto their great disquiet,  
To combat for their lodging and their diet.   

77  
Fair dame (said he) sometime there ruled in France  
King Feramont, whose son a comely knight,  
Clodian by name, by good or evil chance,  
Upon a lovely Lady did alight:  
But as we see it oftentimes doth chance,  
That jealousy in love mars man's delight;  
Thus he or her in time so jealous grew,  
He durst not let her go out of his view.   

78  

Simile  Nor ever Argus kept the milk-white cow  
More strait, then Clodian here did keep his wife,  
Ten Knights eke to this place he doth allow,  
Thereby for to prevent all casual strife;  
Thus hope and fear between, I know not how,  
As he prolongs his self tormenting life,  
The good sir Tristram thither did repair,  
And in his company a Lady fair.   

79  
Whom he had rescue but a little since  
From Giant's hand, with whom he did her find,  
Sir Tristram sought for lodging with the Prince,  
For then the Sun was very low declind:  

Simile.  But as a horse with galled back will wince,  
e'en so our Clodian with as galled mind  
For casting doubts and dreading every danger,  
Would by no means be won to lodge a stranger.   

80  
When as sir Tristram long had prayed in vain,  
And still denied the thing he did demand,  
That which I cannot with your will obtain,  
In spite of you (said he) I will command;  
I here will prove your villainy most plain,  
With lance in rest, and with my sword in hand:  
And strait he challenged the combat then,  
To fight with Clodian and the other ten.   

81  
Thus only they agreed upon the case,  
If Clodian and his men were overthrown,  
That all then presently should void the place,  
And that sir Tristram there should lie alone:  
Sir Clodian to avoid so great disgrace,  
The challenge took, for why excuse was none:  
In fine, both Clodian and his men well knocked,  
And from the castle that same night were locked.   

82  
Triumphant Tristram to the Castle came,  
And for that night, as on his own he ●eased.  
And there he saw the Princess, lovely dame,  
And talked with her, who him not little pleased:  
This while sir Clodian was in part with shame,  
And more with thought and jealous fear diseased,  
Disdaining not in humble sort to woe him,  
By message mild to send his wife unto him.   

83  
But he, though her he do not much esteem,  
For why, by means of an enchanted potion,  
Isotta fairest unto him did seem,  
To whom he vowed had his whole devotion:  
Yet for he did the jealous Clodian deem  
Some plague to merit, he denied his motion;  
And swears it were no manners nor no reason,  
A Lady to unlodge at such a season.   

84  
But if (saith he) it do his mind offend,  
To lie all night alone and eke abroad,  
Tell him I will this other Lady send  
To him, that shall with him make her abode:  
Now tell him that to keep this I intent,  
The which to win, I have such pain bestowed;  
'tis reason that the fairest should remain  
With him that is the strongest of us twain.   

85  
Clodian in mind was wondrous malcontent,  
Used so not like a Prince but like a patch,  
That puffing, blowing up and down he went  
All night, as one were set to keep a watch: 
〈◊〉   
But whether he do chase or else lament,  
He found the Knight for him too hard a match.  
Next day sir Tristram let him have his wife,  
And so for that time finished was the strife.   

86  
For openly he on his honour swore,  
That he her honour had that night preserved,  
Although discourtesies he had before  
Had at his hands a great revenge deserved;  
Yet in that Clodian had lodged out of door,  
He was content that penance should have served;  
He nevertheless took it for no good excuse,  
To say that love was cause of such abuse.   

87  
For love should gentle make rude hearts and base, 
Sentence   
And not in gentle mind breed humours vile:  
Now when sir Tristram parted from the place,  
Sir Clodian meant to stay there but a while,  
But to a knight that stood much in his grace,  
He grants the keeping of this stately pile:  
Keeping one law for him and for his heirs,  
With every one that to the place repairs.   

88  
That namely ever he that was most strong,  
Should there be lodged, and she that was most fair,  
And that the rest should take it for no wrong,  
To walk abroad into the open air:  
This is the law which hath endured long,  
And no man may the strength thereof impair:  
Now while the man this story did repeat,  
The steward on the board did set the meat.   

89  
The board was covered in a stately hall,  
Whose match was scarce in all the country seen,  
With goodly pictures drawn upon the wall,  
All round about, but chiefly on the screen;  
These they did look on, with delight not small,  
And would have quite forgot their meat I ween,  
Save that their noble host did them advise,  
To feed their bellies first, and then their eyes.   

90  
Now as they down did at the table sit,  
The master of the house began to lower,  
And said they did an error great commit,  
To lodge two Ladies come in sundry hour;  
Needs one must be put out, where ere it hit,  
And go abroad into the cold and shower:  
The fairest (sith they came not both together)  
Must bide, the foulest must go try the wether.   

91  
Two aged men and women more beside  
He called, and bade them quickly take a view,  
Which of the twain should in the place abide,  
And namely which of twain had fairest hew:  
This lurie do the matter soon decide,  
And gave their verdict, as it was most true,  
That Bradamant passed her in hue as far,  
As she excelled the men in feats of war.   

92  
Then spoke the knight unto the Island dame,  
Whose mind was full of timorous suspicion,  
I pray you think it not a scorn or shame,  
For hence you must, there can be no remission.  
Poor Vllany (so was the damsels name)  
Doth think she now is driven to hard condition,  
Yet in her conscience true she knew it was,  
That Bradamant in beauty her did pass.   

93  

〈◊〉  e'en as we see the Sun obscured sometime,  
By sudden rising of a misty cloud,  
Engendered by the vapour breeding slime,  
And in the middle region then 
* 〈◊〉 when the 〈◊〉, ascend as 〈◊〉 as ice middle 〈◊〉 strait 〈◊〉 grow to 〈◊〉 a great 〈◊〉 in them, 〈◊〉 makes the 〈◊〉 bear them 〈◊〉 though they 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 as we see 〈…〉.  embowd:  
So when the damsel plainly saw that time,  
Her presence in the place was not allowed,  
She was so changed in countenance and in cheer,  
That e'en unlike herself she did appear.   

94  
But much astonyd with the sudden passion,  
She ready was to found in all their fight;  
But Bradamant that would not for compassion  
Permit that she should go abroad that night,  
Did say, this trial was of no good fashion,  
And that the judgement hardly could be right,  

〈◊〉  When men observe not this same chief regard,  
As not to judge before both parts be hard.   

95  
ay, that on me do take her to defend,  
Say thus, that be I fair, or less or more,  
I came not as a woman, nor intent  
As woman now to be adiugded therefore;  
Who knows may sex, except I condescend  
To show the same? and one should evermore  

〈◊〉  Shun to confirm things doubtful, or deny it,  
When chiefly others may be harmed by it.   

96  
Yet who can say precisely what I am?  
For many men do wear their hair as long,  
And you do know that as a man I came,  
And all my gestures to a man belong;  
Wherefore in giving me a woman's name,  
To both of us perhaps you may do wrong;  
Your law points women (if their right be done)  
By women, not by warriors to be won.   

97  
But yet admit it were as you do guess,  
That I indeed were of the female gender,  
Though that it is so, I do not confess;  
Should I to her my lodging then surrender,  
If that my beauty of the two were less?  
No sure, in that the reason were but slender:  
The price that unto virtue longs of duty,  
Should not be ta'en away for want of beauty.   

98  
And if your law were such, that needs of force,  
Unto the fairest lodging should be given,  
Yet at this feast I tarry would perforce,  
And from my lodging I would not be driven:  
Wherefore mine argument I thus enforce,  
That this same match between us is not even,  
For striving here with me, the case is plain.  
She much may lose, and little she may gain.   

99  
And where the gain and loss unequal is,  
The match is evil made in common sense:  
Wherefore I think it were not much amiss,  
With this same law for this time to dispense;  
And if that any dare mislike of this,  
Or seem to take the matter in offence,  
I will with sword be ready to maintain,  
That mine advice is good, and his is vain.   

100  
Thus noble Ammon's daughter moved with pity  
In her behalf, who to her great disgrace  
Should have been sent, where neither town nor city  
Was near almost in three leagues of the place,  
Framed her defence so stout and eke so witty,  
That to her reason all the rest gave place;  
But chief the peril great and hazard weighing,  
That might have grown to them by her gainsaying.   

101  
As when the Sun in summer hath most power, 
Simile   
And that the ground with heat thereof is nued,  
For want of rain the dry and parched flower  
Doth fade, and is as 'twere of life deprived,  
But if in season come a fruitful shower,  
It riseth up, and is again revived:  
So when the damsel this defence did hear,  
She waxed fair again, of better cheat.   

102  
And thus at last they fell unto their feast  
In quiet sort, for none did come that night,  
To challenge any of them, or molest,  
No traveler, nor any wandering knight;  
All merry were but Bradamante least,  
Fell jealousy bard her of all delight,  
Her stomach so distempting, and her taste,  
She took no pleasure of that sweet repast.   

103  
When supper ended was, they all arise,  
Although perhaps they would have longer sat,  
Save for desire they had to feed their eyes:  
And now the night was spent and waxed late,  
The master of the house in seemly wise,  
Doth call for torches to set out his state,  
And strait with torch light filled was the hall,  
But what they saw, hereafter show I shall.   
The first fifty staves of this book I may call mine, as the Poet Martial sai●● in a little Epigram of his, of a Gentlewoman's periwig, fifteen hu●dred years since, I think the verse was this, or such another,  
Esse suos jurat, quos emit Galla capillos,  
Dic sodes, numquid peierat illa mihi?  
To this effect in English:  
The goodly hair that Galla wears,  
Is hers, who would have thought it?  
She swears it is, and true she swears,  
For I know where she bought it.  
And so may I as truly swear these are mine for they were given me by my brother (Francis Harington) who made them for a proof of his vein in this kind; and if his sloth had not been as blameworthy, as his skill is praiseworthy, he had eased me of much of the pain that I took with the rest: and me thinks when I read his and mine own together, the phrase agrees so well, as it were two brothers. Though he (in his modesty) would needs give his elder brother leave to take all the pains, and praise (if there were any,) following herein the example of divers, indeed studious and learned Gentlemen, that have either disdained to bestow so much pains on another man's work, or at least would not lose so much time from more grave or more profitable studies; or (which perhaps is the chiefest reason) because they feel, that though it is but a sport to write now and then a little odd sonnet, yet it is some labour to write a long and settled stile: as Tully saith of writing in prose; Stilus est optimus dicendi magister, sed laboris magni est, quem plerique fugimus. Writing is the best schoolmaster for eloquence, but (saith he) it is a painful thing, and that most of us cannot away withal. And yet I find (having written in both kinds now and then, as my slender capacity would serve me) that prose is like a fair green way, wherein a man may travel a great journey and not be weary; but verse us a miry lane, in which a man's horse pulls out one leg after another with much ado, and often drives his master to light to help him out: but I shall travel anon so far in this green way, that I shall be out of my right way, or at least beside my matter; and therefore I now come to the moral.  

Moral.  In the Moral of this xxxij. book, in the person of Agramant we may note, how a General must not upon one foil or one ill day (as they call it) despair of his affairs, or abandon his enterprise, but betake him to some strong place of advantage, till they may make head again. In which kind, the old Romans (conquerors of the world) above all other things showed their unconquered minds; and specially then, when Terentius Varro had received that great foil and overthrow by Hannibal, as Livy noteth in the end of the xxij. book. Quo in tempore ipso, adeò magno animo civitas fuit, ut Consuli ex tanta called (cuius ipse magna causa fuisset) redeunti, & obuiam itum frequenter ab omnibus ordinibus sit, & gratiae actae, quòd de republica non desperasset. Cui si Carthaginiensium ductor fuisset, nihil recusandum supplicij foret. What time (saith Livy) the city was of so great courage, that the Consul returning from so mighty an overthrow (of which himself had been a great occasion) yet was publicly and solemnly met by all the companies, and had special thanks given him because he despaired not of the common state: who had he been captain of the Carthaginians, no punishment had been too much for him. Further, in Brunello that had sometimes been Agramants secretary, and yet now was hanged for justice sake, we may note, that wicked men, thought they be sometime advanced by their Princes to great honours and wealth, yet when their oppressions and thefts shall be plainly bolted out and manifestly proved, law will have his course, and justice must be done. And yet we see also in this book, in Bradamants defence of Vllany against the law of sir Tristrams lodge, that for the most part laws are but like Spider's webs, taking the small Gnats, or perhaps sometime the fat flesh flies, but Hornets that have sharp stings and greater strength, break through them.  

History.  Of josuas' day, which he toucheth in the xi. staff, the holy Scripture speaks of, how he made the Sun stand still. But for the false Amphittios' night, though it seem mere fabulous as it is told, that jupiter made the night three nights long, to take the more pleasure of Alcmene, yet me think it is worth the observation, how the very profane and vain writings of old times do concur with the sacred Scriptures; for whensoever the birth of Hercules was, which I dare not affirm to have been at that time, and yet by computation il will not fall long after. For Hercules was a great while before the last Trojan wars, and many old writers agree, that Priamus lived in David's time, and sent to him for succour: but howsoever that may be proved for the certain time of his birth, certain it is, when the Sun stood still in one part of the world, then in reason at their Antipodes and in the other Hemisphere it must needs be night all that while. And if the Sun were almost down when josua spoke (as it may be conjectured) because he would not fear want of light to pursue his enemies until the Sun were near setting, than it might be even in the same Hemisphere within a few degrees. As for example, it is night one hundred miles Eastward sooner than it is so far Westward by a good while: (as they that are Astronomers can easily resolve the simplest that is.) But to be short, it is verified by many writers, that there was one night observed to be longer than her fellows, which night either Hercules was borne upon, or else was feigned to be begotten upon, and therefore they surnamed him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of that night that was as long as three nights. But this I submit to the judgement of learned Divines.  

Allegory.  The colour and embroidery of Bradamants bases in the 47. staff, betokening desperation is there showed, I need not long to stand upon: for as for those hidden mysteries of colours, with their applications, of blue to constancy, twanie forsaken, white to virginity, and the rest, they are very well known to all our gallant Gentlemen, who often have more cost in their clothes, and wit in their colours, than coin in their coffers, or learning in their heads.  

Allusion.  Of the Island Queen that sent the shield of gold to France, which Bradamant thought would but breed quarrels, Fornarius noteth, that mine Author did therein covertly allude to a matter between England and France, for Ariosto lived in Henry the eight his time, and maketh very honourable mention of him. But thus it was. After the death of jews of France, Marie the younger sister of K. Henry the eight remaining his Dowager, our King sent for his sister to come into England: but Francis the first, loath she should go out of France, in respect of the great dower she should carry with her, which by the custom of that country was a third part of the revenue of the Crown; and yet fearing to have wars with king Henry, made this offer, that if he would send some brave man at arms that could win her in the field, he should have her: our King made no dainties to accept the offer, and making it known to his Court, Sir Charles Brandon took the matter on him, and in fine overcoming four French men, with the frank consent of both Kings married the Queen Dowager, and was here in England (as we all know) made Duke of Suffolk; of whose offspring there remain yet some most worthy branches, but the like to him for arms and cavallary (as we term it) is my noble good Lord, the Lord Strange, whose value and virtue need not this my barren and brief testimony.  
The end of the annotations upon the xxxij. book.   

  

THE XXXIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fair Bradamant sees graven by passing art,  
The future wars of France upon a screen.  
Bayardos' flight the combat fierce doth part,  
Renaldo and the Serican beweene.  
Astolso having past the greater part  
Of all the world, and many countries seen,  
Unto Senapos kingdom last arrives,  
And from his board the foul Harpias drives.  

1  

Of these famous drawers look on the history of this book.  TYmagoras, Parrhasius, Polignote,  
Timant, Protogenes, Apollodore,  
With Zewces, one for skill of special note:  
Apelles eke, placed all the rest before:  
Whose skill in drawing, all the world doth note,  
And talk of still (to writers thanks therefore)  
Whose works and bodies, time and death did waste,  
Yet spite of time and death their fames doth last.   

2  
With others that in these our later days  
Have lived, as Leonard and john Belline,  
And he that carves and draws with equal praise,  
Michael more than a man, Angel divine,  
And Flores, whom the Flemings greatly praise,  
And Raphael and Titian passing fine,  
With divers others that by due desert,  
Do meant in this praise to have a part.   

3  
Yet all these cunning drawers with their skill,  
Could not attain by picture to express,  
What strange events should happen well or ill,  
In future times, no not so much as guess:  
This art is proper unto Magic still:  
Or to a Prophet, or a Prophetess.  
By this rare art, the British Merlin painted  
Strange things, with which our age hath been acquainted.   

4  
He made by Magic art, that stately hall,  
And by the self same art he could to be,  
Strange histories engraved on the wall,  
Which (as I said) the guests desired to see.  
Now when they were from supper risen all,  
The pages lighted torches two or three,  
Making the room to shine as bright as day.  
When to his guests the owner thus did say,   

5  
I would (quoth he) my guests, that you should know,  
That these same stories that here painted are,  
Of future wars the sequels sad do show,  
That shall to Italy bring woe and care:  
Whereas the French full many a bloody blow  
Shall take, while others they to harm prepare,  
As Merlin here hath laid down, being sent  
From English Arthur, chief for this intent.   

6  
King Feramont that was the first that past  
The stream of Rhine with army great of France,  
And being in possession quiet placed  
Of all those parts, stirred with so lucky chance,  
Strait in ambitious thought began to cast,  
His rule and sceptre higher to advance.  
Which that he might to pass the better bring,  
He made a league with Arthur English king,   

7  
Informing him how that his meaning was, 
This part 〈◊〉 a fiction, for 〈…〉 was 〈◊〉 years afore Arthur.   
Of Italy the rule and crown to get,  
And asked his aid to bring the same to pass,  
Which never had achieved been as yet.  
Now Merlin that did all men far surpass  
In Magic art, his purpose sought to let,  
For Merlin had with Arthur so great credit,  
He thought all Gospel was, if once he said it.   

8  
This Merlin than did first to Arthur show,  
And then by Arthur was of purpose sent,  
To Fieramont of France, to let him know  
The cause why he misliked his intent.  
As namely, many mischiefs that would grow,  
To all that now, or that hereafter meant,  
The like attempt, advising him abstain  
From certain trouble, for uncertain gain.   

9  
And that he might his courage more appall,  

〈◊〉 Thereof in 〈◊〉 history of this 〈◊〉.  And quite remove him from this enterprise,  
He made by Magic, this so stately hall,  
Adorned as you see in sumptuous wise,  
And drew these histories upon the wall,  
That what he saw in mind, they might with eyes,  
And thereby know, that in Italian ground,  
The flower de luce can near take root profound.   

10  
And how as often as the French shall come,  
As friends to aid and free them from distress.  
So oft they shall their foes all overcome,  
And fight with honour great, and good success:  
But be they sure to have that place their tomb,  
If so they come their freedom to oppress;  
Thus much the owner of the house them told,  
And so went on, the story to untold.   

11  

〈◊〉  Lo first how Sigisbert in hope of gain,  
And promises of Emperor Mauricius,  
Doth pass the mountains with a mighty train,  
With mind to Lombardie to be pernicious:  
But Ewtar drives him back by force again,  
When he of such attempt is least suspicious,  
So that his enterprise is quite reversed,  
Himself doth fly, and leave his men dispersed.   

12  
Next after him the proud Clodoveus went,  
And had with him one hundred thousand men,  
But him doth meet the Duke of benevent,  
With scarce for every hundred soldiers, ten,  
Who doth entrap him in an ambushment,  
So as the French might well be likened then,  

〈◊〉 in the 〈◊〉  While Lombard wines too greedily they took,  
To fish beguiled with a baited hook.   

13  

〈◊〉 host 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 plague.  Straight Childibertus with a mighty host,  
Doth come with mind to wipe away this blot:  
But of his gainings he may make small boast,  
For of his purpose he prevailed not:  
His enterprise by heavenly sword is croft.  
The plague doth grow among his men so hot,  
What with the burning fever, and the flux,  
Of sixty men, there scant returneth six.   

14  
Another picture lively doth express,  
How that king Pepin and king Charles his son,  
Fought both in Italy with good success;  
Not with intent that Realm to overrun,  

〈◊〉 Astolso was 〈◊〉 proud 〈◊〉 of Lambar●.  But to set free Pope Steu'n from sharp distress,  
And wrongs, that by Astolso were him done,  
One tames Astolso that was Steu'ns' oppressor,  
To there takes Desiderius his successor.   

15  
Behold another Pepin yet an youth,  
Not like his father, doth that Realm invade, 
This happened as the siege of Rialto an Island near Venice, where he would have made the bridge.   
And thinking to procure their woeful ruth,  
Of ships and boats a mighty bridge he made:  
But mark what ill success to him ensueth,  
Ear he through his great enterprise could wade,  
A tempest did his massy work confound,  
His bridge was broken, and his soldiers drowned.   

16  
Lo Lews of Burgundy, descending there  
Where, as it seems he taken is and bound,  
And he that takes him, maketh him to swear,  
That he shall near bear arms 'gainst Latian ground 
Lews of Burgendie and 〈◊〉 eye: 〈◊〉 cut for his 〈◊〉.   
Lo how he breaks his oath without all fear,  
Lo how again his foes do him confound,  
And like a moldwarpe, make him lose his eyes:  
A just reward for such as oaths despise.   

17  
See here how Hugh of Arly doth great fears, 
Hugo of Arly ouer●●rowne by the Beringars.   
Driving the Beringars from native soil,  
Forcing them twice or thrice to change their feats,  
And cause the Huns and Baviers back recoil:  
But greater force at last his acts defeats,  
First he compounds, and after all his toil,  
He dies, not after long his heir doth ta'en,  
But yieldeth up his crown to Beringarie.   

18  
Lo hear another Charles that by persuasion, 
Look of this in the history is.   
Of evil shepherd, sets on fire the fold,  
And kills two kings in this his fierce invasion,  
Manfred and Corradin, which makes him bold:  
But his own faults of his fall gave occasion;  
His cruelty was such, so uncontrolled,  
That he and his were all killed (as they tell)  
e'en at the ringing of an eu'niong bell.   

19  
Now after these about one hundred years,  
For so the space between, did seem to say,  
From France, one shall invade those famous peers,  
The Viscount Galleasses, 
This man that invedeth the Galleasses was the Earl of Arm●●ake.  and shall lay  
Siege unto Alexandria as appears.  
By those that here do stand in battle ray.  
Lo how the Duke preventing every doubt,  
Provideth strength within, deceit without.   

20  
And with this wary policy proceeding,  
He doth the Frenchmen at advantage take,  
Not finding his ambushment, and not heeding,  
Together with the Lord of Arminake,  
Who dieth of his hurts with overbleeding:  
Lo how the stream of blood there spilled doth make,  
A sanguine colour in the stream of Poe,  
By means Tanarus into it doth go.   

21  
After all these, one comes that Maria height, 
Look at Maria in the history.   
And three that do of Anjou howl proceed.  
All these to those of Naples do much spite,  
Yet none of these can brag of their good speed:  
For though to French they join some Latian might,  
Of greedy sort, that with their crowns they feed,  
Yet still for all their pain and their expense,  
Alfonso and Ferdinando drive them thence.   


Charles the eight look in the history.  22  
Lo Charles the eight descending like a thunder,  
down from the Alps with all the flower of France,  
And conquering all (to all men's passing wonder)  
Not drawing once a sword, nor breaking lance,  
(Except that rock that Typheus' lieth under  
While he to high himself, strove to advance)  
This I'll and castle both, that Iskia height,  
Defended was by Vasto gallant knight.   

23  
Now as the master of the castle told,  
And pointed out each story in his place,  
It came into his fancy to unfold,  
The worthy praise of Alva's noble race;  
Which (as for certainty they all did hold)  
Wise Merlin prophesied, who had the grace,  
To show before hand, both with tongue and pen,  
What accidents should hap, and where, and when.   

24  

This is spoken in praise of the Louse of Alua.  And namely that this knight whom here you see,  
Defending so the castle and the rock,  
As though he feared not those same fires that flee,  
As far as Fare, but them did scorn and mock.  
From this same knight there shall descend (quoth he)  
Out of the root of this most worthy stock,  
A knight shall win such fame and reputation,  
As all the world shall hold in admiration.   

25  

Of these 〈◊〉 in the Table.  Though Nereus were fair, Achilles' strong,  
Though Ladas swift, though Nestor was most wise,  
That knew so much, and lived had so long;  
Though bold Vilsses could both well devise,  
And execute what doth to war belong,  
Though Caesar, bounty praised be to the skies,  
Yet place to give all these may think no scorn,  
To one that shall in Iskia I'll be borne.   

26  
And if that ancient Creta may be prow,  

jupiter nephew to Celus.  Because that Celus nephew sprang therein:  
If Thebes of Bacchus' birth doth vaunt so loud,  
And Hercules; If Delos of their twin:  
Then may that I'll no less be well allowed,  
To vaunt itself, that hath so happy been,  
To have that marquess borne within that place,  
On whom the heavens shall power so great a grace.   

27  
Thus Merlin used to tell and oft repeat,  
How he should be for such a time reserved,  
When Roman Empires high and stately seat,  
At lowest ebb should be, and well-nigh starved;  
That his rare parts again might make it great,  
And that by him it might be safe preserved,  
Which that you may see plainly to his glory,  
Mark in this table the ensuing story.   

28  

Lodowicke's Scorse the notablest dissembler and 〈◊〉 that ever was though before Alathia 〈◊〉 time. Look the History.  Lo here (said he) how Lodowick doth repent,  
That he had thither brought king Charles the eight,  
Which at the first he did but with intent  
To weaken, not to press with so hard weight  
His ancient foe; for now 'gainst Charles he went,  
Making new leagues according to his sleight.  
He thinks to take him prisoner by the way,  
But Charles by force through them doth make his way.   

29  
But yet the soldiers that behind him stayed,  
Had not the like good fortune nor success,  
For Ferdinando grew by Mantuan aid  
So strong, that soon he did the French distress:  
To whose great grief, this marquess was betrayed  
By Gypsen vile, when he feared nothing less, 
Look in the History of 〈◊〉.   
Which doth in Ferdinand so great grief breed,  
As doth his joy of victory exceed.   

30  
Next after these, he shows them Lews the twelfth,  
That pulls out Lodowick Storse with mighty hand,  
And gets by force, what he had got by stealth, 
Of Lews the 〈◊〉 look the 〈◊〉.   
And plants the flower de luce in Millen land;  
Yet he no long time there in quiet dwelleth,  
The great consalvo with a Spanish band,  
His Captains and Lieutenants oft repulses,  
And in the end from Millen quite expulses.   

31  
Lo here (which I forgot before to show)  
How Lodwickes' friends, and his own men betray him,  
One sells his castle never striking blow; 
Sforse 〈…〉 common 〈◊〉 apparel 〈◊〉 Swisser, 〈◊〉 betrayed.   
The Swissers eke that might away convey him,  
And had his pay, and did him service owe,  
For filthy lucre's sake they do bewray him;  
Whereby without once breaking of a lance,  
Two victories came to the king of France.   

32  
Lo how by favour of his mighty king, 
Caesar Borgia Duke 〈◊〉 a notable 〈◊〉 man.   
The bastard Caesar Borgia grew full great,  
And doth the necks of many nobles wring  
Of Italy, that had most ancient seat.  
Lo how this king doth eke the acorns bring  
To Bulloign, 
By the 〈…〉 who gave 〈◊〉 for their 〈◊〉.  lo how with another feat,  
He doth the Genowais in fight subdue,  
And maketh them their late revolt to rue.   

33  
Lo here not far from thence, how all the field,  
With dead men's bones is healed at Geriadad, 
This battle 〈◊〉 Geriadad, 〈◊〉 the distressed state of 〈◊〉 look in the History.   
How all the cities unto Lews do yield,  
How Venice to shut up her gates is glad;  
And searse herself from this great storm can shield:  
Lo how the Pope (his part that herein had)  
Doth take away unto his great rebuke,  
Modone and more, from good Ferrara's Duk●.   

34  
At which king Lews (with rightful choler moved)  
Gives Bulloign to the Bentivols again,  
And thence to Breskie all his force removed,  
And succours to Felsina doth ordain,  
What time the Church's soldiers felt and proved,  
The French men's force unto their much pain:  
Lo after where both armies meet to fight,  
Near Chassie shore, to try their utmost might.   

35  
On this side France, on that the power of Spain  
United is, and deadly blows ensue,  
The ditches all seemed filled with bodies slain,  
A hap to make a stonic heart to rue;  
Long time in doubt doth victory remain,  
Which way the sway would carry no man knew, 
Of this he 〈◊〉 before 〈…〉 book.   
Till by the virtue of Alfonse alone,  
The French prevail, the Spanish (forced) are gone,   

36  
Lo how the Pope his lip doth bite for grief,  
Because the French men do Ravenna sack;  
Lo how he sent to Swizzers for relief,  
Lo how they come and drive the French men back;  
And they that with their treason caused chief  
Of Lodiwike the overthrow and wrack,  
To make some mends for that they erst had done,  
Unto the father's place restore the son.   

37  

〈◊〉 the first.  But lo a prince of France then new created,  
Meets with the Swizzers to their much cost,  
And so their courage quailed, and force abated,  
As all the nations seemed well-nigh lost;  
And of their title that them animated,  
Those villains vile hereafter need not boast,  
Defenders of the Church, tamers of Kings,  
They cleped were, now clipped are their wings.   

38  
Lo how the French king Francis in despite  
Of all the league, fair Millen doth surprise,  
Bourbon defending it from Geno as might;  
Lo while this King doth practise and devise,  
Some great exploit, while by foul oversight,  
His lawless men the town did tyrannize;  

〈…〉 of Millen 〈◊〉 cruelty  Their having too much pride, and want of pity,  
Doth cause them suddenly to lose the city.   

39  
Lo yet another Francis Sforse, a man  
Like to his Grandfire both in acts and name,  
Who to drive out the Frenchmen well began,  
And Millen did recover with great fame;  
Lo France again endeavour all they can,  
To win with praise that they had lost with shame,  
But Mantua's worthy Duke on Tyrian stream,  
Cut off his way, and kept him from that Realm.   

40  
Young Frederick, yet but a beardless boy,  
Scant having on his chin a little down,  
Lo how he saves Pavia from annoy,  
When furiously the French besiege the town;  
He makes their earnest plots turn to a toy,  

〈◊〉 called the 〈◊〉 of the sea.  The Lion of the sea he beateth down:  
Lo here two Marquesses both of one blood,  
Both borne to do their country endless good.   

41  
The first of these is that Alfonso's son,  
That by the Negro erst you saw betrayed,  
Behold what feats of arms by him are done,  
How at their greatest need he them doth aid,  
How oft he hath on Frenchmen glory won,  
That of his very name they seem afraid:  
The tother that so mild doth look in sight,  
Is Lord of Vasto, and Alfonso height.   

42  
This is that worthy knight, of whom I told,  
Then when I did the I'll of Iskia show,  
Of whom I said that Merlin had foretold  
To Feramont what he by skill did know,  
That when this world were worn and waxen old,  
And Rome and Italy were brought most low,  
Then he should spring, who to his endless praise,  
Their foes should overthrow, and them should raise.   

43  
Lo how he with his cousin of Pescare,  
And with Colonnas' prosperous aid no less,  
The French and Dutch that at Bycocca are,  
Do foil and slay, and drive to great distress;  
Lo how again the French men do prepare, 
Francis invasion of Italy with two armies.   
With new attempts to mend their bad success,  
One camp the king in Lombardie doth make,  
And with another Naples he would take.   

44  
But she that useth men as wind doth dust, 
Fortune.   
First take it up and blow it very high,  
And from that highest place strait when she lust,  
She throws it down whereas it first did lie:  
She makes this king devoid of all mistrust,  
Think he hath men an hundred thousand nigh, 
King Francis overthrown 〈◊〉 Pavia, deceased by his mustermasters in the number of his soldiers   
At Pavia siege believing others musters,  
(But woe to kings whose servants are no juster.)   

45  
So while this noble Prince mistrusts no harm,  
His wicked Captains greedy gain to win,  
Cauld that the soldiers in the night alarm,  
Came to their colours slow and very thin;  
Within their tents they feel their skirmish warm,  
The wary Spaniards soon had entered in  
With those two guides, with whom they durst assay,  
In hell or else in heaven to break a way.   

46  
Lo how the chief nobilities of France  
Lie dead on ground, a cause of many tears,  
How many an harquebus, a sword and lance,  
This stout king hath alone about his ears:  
His horse slain under him by hard mischance,  
And yet he nothing yields nor nothing fears,  
Though all the host assaulted him alone,  
And all the reskues and supplies were gone.   

47  
The valiant King defends him on his feet, 
Francis taken prisoner.   
Bathing his blade long time in enemies' blood,  
But virtue that with too much force doth meet,  
Must yield at last, it cannot be withstood;  
Lo him here prisoner, lo how in a fleet  
He passeth into Spain the salt sea flood,  
Whence Vasto doth the chiefest honour bring,  
Of the field won, and of the prisoner king.   

48  
Thus both that host the king had thither brought,  
And that he meant to Naples to have sent,  
Were both dispersed quite, and came to nought,  
Much like a lamp when all the oil is spent. 
Simile   
Lo how the King again so well hath wrought,  
He leaves his sons for pledge, and homeward went,  
Lo how abroad he doth new quarrels pike, 
Meaning the king of England.   
Lo how at home some do to him the like.   

49  
Lo here the woeful murders and the rapes,  
That Rome doth suffer in the cruel sack,  
Where neither thing profane nor holy 'scapes, 
The sack of Rome by Bourbou, who was the first man that was killed.   
But all alike do go to spoil and wrack:  
The league that should relieve, sits still and gapes,  
And where they should step forward, they shrink back:  
Thus Peter's successor by them forsaken,  
Is strait besieged, and at length is taken.   

50  
The King sends Lautrek, new supplies to gather,  
Not that he should to Lombardie do aught,  
But that he might set free the holy father,  
That to so low an ebb so soon was brought:  
But Lautrek should have come a little rather,  
The Pope's own coin hath his own freedom bought,  
Lautrek attempts to conquer Naples town,  
And soon turns all that country upside down.   

51  
Lo how a fair Imperial navy bends  
His course to succour the distressed town,  
But Doria back with heave and ho them sends,  
And some of them doth burn, and some doth drown:  
Lo, fickle fortune once again intends  

This pestilous mortali●● grew by potsoning a water near to Naples, and then stopping the course of it, made ●● overflow all the marish grounds, and so infected the air that Lautreck and all h●● men died of us.  To change her cheer, and on the French to frown,  
With agews, not with swords they all are slain,  
Scarce of an hundred one turns home again.   

52  
These and such stories had the stately hall,  
In marble rich engraved on the screen,  
As were too tedious to recite them all,  
Though then by them they were perusd and seen;  
Their wonder great, their pleasure was not small,  
And oft they read the writings were between,  
That in fair Roman letters all of gold,  
The circumstance of every picture told.   

53  
Now when the Ladies fair and all the rest,  
Had seen and asked as much as they desired,  
Their host doth bring them to their rooms of rest,  
Where sleep renews the strength of bodies tired,  
Only Duke Ammon's daughter could not rest,  
Though bed were soft, room warm, and well attired,  
Yet still she tossed from left side to the right,  
And could not sleep one wink all that same night.   

54  
With much ado her eyes at last she closed, 
Bradamanti dream of Rogero.   
Not much afore the dawning of the day,  
And as she slept, she in her sleep supposed  
Rogero present was, and thus did say,  
My dear, what ails thee to be thus disposed,  
That false belief in thee doth bear such sway?  
First shall the rivers to the mountains clime,  
Ere I will guilty be of such a crime.   

55  
Beside she thought she heard him thus to say,  
Lo I am come to be baptizd, my love,  
And that I seemed my coming to delay,  
Another wound, and not a wound of love,  
Hath been the cause of my constrained stay,  
Suspicions vain, and causeless fear remove:  
With this the damsel waked, and up she started,  
But found her dream, and lover both departed.   

56  
Then freshly she doth her complaints renew,  
And in her mind thus to herself she spoke,  
Lo what I like, are dreams vain and untrue,  
And in a moment me do quite forsake;  
But ah, what me offends is to to true,  
I dream of good, but none I find awake,  
How are mine eyes alas in so ill taking,  
That closed see good, and nought but evil waking?   

57  
Sweet dream did promise me a quiet peace,  
But bitter waking turneth all to war;  
Sweet dream deluded me, and soon did cease,  
But bitter waking plagues, and doth not are:  
If falsehood ease, and truth my pains increase,  
I wish myself from truth I still might bar,  
If dreams breed joy, and waking cause my pain,  
Ay might I dream, and never wake again.   

58  
Oh happy wights whom sleep doth so possess,  
As in six months you never open eye,  
For sure such sleep is like to death I guess,  
But waking thus, is not like life (think I)  
How strange are then the pangs that me oppress,  
That sleeping seem to live, and waking die?  
But if such sleep resemblance be of death,  
Come death and close mine eyes, and stop my breath.   

59  
Now were those Easter parts of heaven madered,  
Where Phoebus beams do first begin appear,  
And all the thick and rainy clouds were fled,  
And promised a morning fair and clear:  
When Bradamant forsook her restless bed,  
And giving for her lodging and good cheer,  
Right courteous thanks unto her noble host,  
She leaves his house, and minds to part in post.   

60  
But first she found how that the damsel fair,  
The messenger that supped with her last night,  
Was gone before, with purpose to repair  
To those three knights that lately felt her might,  
When she did cause them caper in the air,  
Driven without stirrups from their steeds to light,  
She found they had all night to their great pain,  
Abide the wind, the tempest and the rain.   

61  
And that which greatly did increase their grief,  
Was that while those within had cheer great store,  
They and their horse lacked lodging and relief:  
But that which did offend their stomachs more,  
And was indeed of all their sorrows chief,  
Was lest the maid (of whom I spoke before)  
Would tell their mistress of their hard mischance,  
They had at their arrival first in France.   

62  
And having full resolved and designed,  
To die or venge the foil received last night,  
To th'end the messenger might change her mind,  
(The messenger that Vilania height)  
Who thought their force and value far behind  
The vaunts that they had made of their great might,  
Therefore as soon as Bradamant they spied,  
Strait each of them to combat her defied.   

63  
Not thinking though she should a damsel be,  
For of a damsel gesture none she used;  
The Lady gently spoke unto them three,  
And thought her haste the fight might have excused,  
But they did urge her still so far, that she  
Without disgrace could not have it refused;  
Wherefore she couched the golden headed lance,  
And from their saddles made them all to dance.   

64  
And for that time thus ended was that fray,  
For she sets spurs to horse, and road so post,  
That ere they rose, she quite was gone away:  
They that their seats had twice together lost,  
Were so ashamed they knew not what to say:  
For why, they wont were to make their boast,  
No knight of France should able be to stand  
Against the worst of them, with spear in hand.   

65  
But Vllania further them to taunt,  
That Bradamant a Lady was, them told,  
Now sirs (said she) you that were wont to vaunt,  
From Panlladins to win the shield of gold,  
Lo how a woman's forces can you daunt,  
Now is (I hope) your lofty courage cold:  
Sure for those knights you be too weak a match,  
When one poor damsel you can overmatch.   

66  
What need (said she) be further trial had,  
You have already that for which you came,  
Except that any of you be so mad,  
To join a future loss, to present shame;  
Or if perhaps ye would be feign and glad,  
To end your lives by men of worthy fame:  
Trow you that vanquished are by woman's hand,  
Renaldo or Orlando to withstand?   

67  
Now when as Vllanie declared had,  
How that a damsel them had overthrown,  
With grief and with disdain they were so mad,  
That scarce their wits and senses were their own:  
Each one himself, of armour all unclad,  
Their horse turned loose, their swords away were thrown,  
And vowed for penance of so great, disgrace,  
To touch no armour in a twelvemonth's space.   

68  
They further vow they ne'er will ride again,  
No not when that same year should be expired,  
Although the way were mountany or plain,  
And though the way were gravelly or myred,  
Until they could by force of arms regain  

〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 again in 〈◊〉 book the 〈◊〉.  Such horses, as for service are required,  
And furniture for three such champions meet;  
Till than they vowed to travel on their feet.   

69  
Thus wilfully they walked while others road,  
But Bradamant went on, and that same night,  
She at a castle maketh her abode  
Near to the way that leads to Paris right:  
Hear by her host, the Lady fair was showed,  
How Agramant was vanquished in the fight:  
Good meat, good lodging, and good news she had,  
Yet eat she not, nor slept, nor was she glad.   

70  

〈◊〉 comes to ●●radamant in 〈◊〉 35. book 31. 〈◊〉.  But now of her so much I must not say,  
That I forget my story out to tell,  
Of those two knights that met this other day,  
And tied their horses at the running well:  
No lands nor towns were causes of their fray,  
Nor who in rule nor office should excel,  
But e'en that he that strongest was of twain,  
Should Bayard win, and Durindana gain.   

71  
There needs no sign of war, nor trumpets sound, 
Gradasso and Renaldo fight.   
To warn them when to strike or when to pause,  
No Heralds need to limit out the ground,  
Nor read them lectures of their warlike laws.  
They met as they by promise firm were bound,  
And each his weapon at one instant draws,  
And then they laid about them strong and nimble,  
Blows bred their smart; and smart their wrath did kindle.   

72  
Two blades more firm in trial, and more sure,  
Could not in all the world have been prepared,  
That having been as these were, put in ure,  
Would not have been in pieces burst and marred:  
But both these blades were of such temper pure,  
So keen, so tough, and there withal so hard,  
They might a thousand times at hard-edge met,  
And neither blade thereby a gap would get.   

73  
Renaldo quick, hither and thither goes,  
And often time was forced to change his place,  
And traverse ground, for why the weight he knows  
Of Durindana, that would cut apase:  
Gradasso ever gave the stronger blows,  
But other still to scape them had the grace;  
Or if they hit, they hit in some such part,  
Where though they made great sound, they caused no smart.   

74  
Renaldo with less strength but far more art,  
Strake once or twice the Pagan on the arm,  
And with a thrust had surely pierced his hart,  
Save that his armour strenghtned was by charm,  
So that no mail out of his place would start:  
But while each sought to do the other harm,  
A sudden noise did part their earnest quarrel, 
Their parting.   
They looked and saw Bayardo in great apparel.   

75  
I say they looked about and spied at length,  
Bayardo fight with a monstrous fowl,  
Bigger than he, her beak three yards of length,  
In other shape and making like an owl,  
Her talents huge and sharp, and of great strength,  
The feathers of her wings all black and foul,  
Her eyes like fire, a long and hideous tail,  
Her wings so huge, they seemed like a sail.   

76  
Perhaps it was a fowl, but I think not,  
Nor ever heard I erst of such a bird,  
Only so Turpin calls it well I wot,  
If any will credit to him afford:  
Rather I deem that Malagigi got  
Some spirit infernal, that himself had stirred,  
To come in shape as I did show before,  
Because the champions fierce, might fight no more.   

77  
Reynaldo eke himself believed the same,  
And with his cousin Malagige fell out,  
And to his charge laid not a little blame,  
And gave him evil language thereabout,  
The tother swore by him that heavens did frame,  
It was not he, to put him out of doubt,  
But were it fowl, or were it a foul devil,  
Certain to Bayard it did work much evil.   

78  
The horse that was puissant, broke his rain,  
When as the sharpness of her claws he feels,  
And what wish terror moved and what with pain,  
He yerketh at her fiercely with his heels:  
She soared aloft and down she comes again,  
And strikes him so, that Bayard almost reels,  
And sith of other fence no mean he had,  
He runs away as if he had been mad.   

79  
Unto the nearest wood he right doth run,  
And still the feathered beast him held in chase,  
Till the thick boughs holp him her gripes to shun,  
So that she gave him over in short space,  
And seeing that her sport with him was done,  
She sored up on high and left this place,  
And to another coast her flight doth frame,  
Where as she thought to find some other game.   

80  
Gradasso and Renaldo when they saw,  
The horse was fled that caused all the fray,  
Do by consent themselves from thence withdraw,  
To find Bayardo out and if they may:  
But first each promised to observe this law,  
That he that found him first of both, should stay  
At this same well, till other should come thither,  
And then again to fight it out together.   

81  
Thus when each had his word to th'other past,  
That they would meet there at their coming back,  
They after go, but Bayard ran so fast,  
As soon they lost the sight of any track:  
Gradasso road and therefore made more haste;  
The Palladine that his good horse did lack,  
Remained behind, all sad and grieved more,  
And malcontent then ere he was before.   

82  
And when he traveled had about in vain,  
In body weary, discontent in mind,  
With loss of all his travel and his pain,  
He turneth to the place they first assigned,  
In hope the tother would return again,  
And bring the horse, if so he could him find:  
But when he saw his looking did not boot,  
He traveled back unto the camp on foot.   

83  
But yet Gradassos' pain succeeded well,  
For why, a while afore the lights decaying,  
He passed near the place, as it befell,  
Where in a cave he found him by his naying,  
Still fearing that same monstrous imp of hell:  
He takes him thence, and then but little weighing  
His promise made, he turns another way,  
And to himself in secret thus doth say.   

84  

Look on the Moral.  Let them that list hold things in strife and war,  
I mean to hold mine own with peace and ease,  
Only to get this horse, I came so far,  
And past so many lands, and many seas:  
My promise breach to me shallbe no bar,  
To keep that I so quietly do seize;  
If he desire to win his horse again,  
To come to India let him take the pain●.   

85  
As safe as France hath been for me now twice,  
So safe for him shallbe my Serycane,  
I thither wish him come if he be wise,  
Else of Bayardo now his leave is ta'en:  
If he will have him he shall know the prize,  
Now mine Bayardo is and Durindane:  
This said, he mounted on the steed so warly,  
And by another way went back to Arly.   

86  
Where finding ships new rigged, to seaward bend,  
Though then at anchor in the harbour lying,  
With those rich spoils, to pass the seas he meant,  
In all post hast into his country hying:  
Hereafter you shall hear which way he went, 
He 〈…〉 in the 〈◊〉 book 43 〈…〉   
And of his last conflict and of his dying:  
Now him I leave, Renaldo and all France,  
And tell you what did to Astolfo chance.   

87  
Who mounted on his stately winged steed,  
Well tamed late by Logestillas' wit,  
took perfect view of France with passing speed,  
And saw how every town of worth did sit,  
Which having well observed, and marked with heed,  
From Rhine to Pyren mount, he thought it fit,  
In manner like, all over Spain to ride,  
And many countries of the world beside.   

88  
To Arragon he passed through Navarre,  
Each man that saw him wondering at the sight,  
Then Taracon he did dicery not far  
Upon his left hand, Biskie on his right,  
Where Castill, Lisbon, and Galicia are,  
And Cordove near, and Seville see he might,  
Which divers crowns now joined in on reign,  
Are governed by the mighty king of Spain.   

89  
There saw he Gades where erst by Hercles' hand,  
Two pillars, marks for Mariners were placed,  
Then over Atlant sea, to Egypt land,  
And over Africa forthwith he passed,  
And saw where Balearick Isles do stand,  
Then traveled to Euiza with like haste,  
And to Arzilla ward he thence departeth,  
Quite o'er that sea, that it from Spagna eparteth,   

90  
Oran he saw, Ippon, Morocco, Fez,  
Algiers, Buzea, and those stately towns,  
Whose Princes with great pomp and pride possess  
Of divers Provinces the stately crowns,  
He saw Byserta, and Tunigi no less,  
And flying over many dales and downs,  
He saw Capisse and Alzerbee I'll,  
And all the Cities to the flood of Nile.   

91  
Tripoli, Bernick, Tolomit, and all  
Between the sea and Atlas woody sides,  
Then on the Cereneys he right doth fall,  
And past Carena mounts, and more besides;  
Then crossing o'er the barren fields and pall,  
Where sands with wind do ebb and flow like tides,  
The tomb of Battus he doth leave behind,  
And Ammon's temple now worn out of mind.   

92  
Then came he by another Tremisen,  
That follows eke of Mahomet the law,  
Unto another Ethyopia than  
He went, the which before he never saw,  
That differs both in language and in men:  
From thence he toward Nubia then did draw,  
Dobada and Coallee just between,  
Of which these Christened, and those Turkish been.   

93  

〈◊〉 begins the 〈◊〉 of Senapo 〈◊〉 Herpia●.  The bord'rers still are armed in heat and cold,  
Senapo yet of Ethyop is the chief,  
And hath great store of jewels and of gold,  
And much he varies not from our belief;  
For he those principles most firm doth hold,  

〈◊〉 Matthew 〈…〉 to the 〈◊〉, & because 〈◊〉 Gospel he 〈◊〉 be shall 〈…〉 you with 〈…〉 holy ghost &) there. ● 〈◊〉 they use to 〈◊〉 the sign 〈◊〉 Cross into 〈◊〉 par● of their 〈◊〉  That can defend from everlasting grief:  
Here is it (if mine author be no her)  
Where they do use to be baptizd with fire.   

94  
The Duke here lighted after travel long,  
And to Senapos stately Court was led;  
The castle was more sumptuous than strong,  
And admiration more than terror bred;  
The locks, bars, chains, and all that did belong  
Unto the bridge and gates from foot to head,  
Which we make here of iron to endure,  
Was there fair wrought in massy gold most pure.   

95  
And though they have great store of metals fine,  
Yet were the chambers and the lodgings here  
Borne up with crystal columns, that did shine  
All o'er the stately court most bright and clear;  
A stately border caused unto the eine  
Red, white, green, blue, and yellow to appear,  
Enriched with divisions for the nonce,  
Of Ruby, Smarag, Zaphyr, Topas stones.   

96  
Most orient pearls and gems of passing price,  
Were sprinkled on the pavements here and there,  
Hence balm doth come hence other precious spice,  
Which from jerusalem men wont to bear;  
Hence cometh musk, for odours sweet and nice,  
And amber pure, that some in bracelets wear;  
And finally all things grow there in plenty,  
That in this country are esteemed most dainty.   

97  
Most true it is, else some have written lies,  
The sultan to this King doth tribute pay,  
For that in this King's power alone it lies,  

〈◊〉, some think 〈◊〉 that was 〈◊〉.  Great Cayre and fertile Egypt to decay,  
Because that by those means he may devise,  
He may turn Nile from them another way:  

〈◊〉 or Giau, 〈◊〉 is to say in 〈◊〉 language 〈◊〉, because 〈◊〉 commands 〈◊〉. kings.  This Prince Senapo there is called of many,  
We call him Prester john or Preter jany.   

98  
Of all the Kings that ever there did reign,  
This King excelled in riches and in treasure,  
But loss of sight made all his comforts vain,  
And barred him every taste of worldly pleasure,  
And this did much increase his care and pain,  
And grieved him indeed beyond all measure,  
That all his wealth and treasure not prevented,  
But that with famine he was ay tormented.   

99  
For when this Prince, as hunger mere him drew,  
Did but prepare himself to drink or eat,  
Strait of Harpias came a cursed crew,  
With mighty wings, 
Virgil: Polluitore dipes.  huge paws, and bellies great,  
And all the dishes quite they overthrew,  
And greedily devoured all the meat;  
And that they left they did so file and slaver,  
As few could brook the sight, 
Look in the Allegory.  but none the saver.   

100  
The cause was this, why his great plague was such,  
Because in youth (when men most careless are)  
Finding himself to be extolled so much,  
And passing other Kings in wealth so far,  
So foul a pride his lofty heart did touch,  
Against his maker, he would needs move war,  
To which intent a mighty power he led,  
Unto that mount whence Nilus hath his head.   

101  
He had been told, and did it firm believe,  
That on that mount, whose top did touch the sky,  
Was that same place where Adam dwelled and Eve,  
Before their fall did cause them thence to fly:  
He hoping some rare conquest to achieve,  
A mighty host prepared by and by,  
With mind (so high his heart with pride did swell)  
To make them tribute pay that there did dwell.   

102  
But high jehova, their foul pride repressed,  
And down he sent his Angel that same night,  
Who slew an hundred thousand for the least,  
And him condemned for ay to lose his sight;  
Then sent he monsters vile him to molest,  
Those ugly monsters, that Harpias height,  
Which so devour and so spoil all his meat,  
Scarce they permit him once to drink or eat.   

103  
And that which drove him into mere despair,  
Was that one told by way of prophecy,  
How those foul creatures ever should repair  
Unto that place, till time they might espy  
A gallant knight all armed in the air,  
Upon a winged beast aloft to fly:  
And for that this unpossible he deemed,  
Past hope of help, himself he then esteemed.   

104  
Now when the people saw from every wall,  
And from each tower the strangely flying knight  
He happy thought himself, that first of all  
Could tell the king of this unused sight;  
Who strait the prophecy to mind did call,  
And with the sudden joy, forgetting quite  
His trusty staff, went groping with his hand.  
To welcome him that now came down to land.   

105  
Astolfo being lighted, nearer drew,  
And as he was the great court entering in,  
Behold the King stood ready in his view,  
And kneeling down, to speak did thus begin,  
O heavenly Angel, o Messias new,  
Though I deserve not pardon for my sin,  
Yet think to us is proper to offend,  
To you, to pardon those that will amend.   

106  
My guilt so heavy on my conscience lies,  
I dare not sue thou shouldst my sight restore,  
Though well I wot that thou couldst heal mine eyes  
That art of those that ay stand God before,  
Let then this plague my want of sight suffice,  
And let me not be starved thus evermore,  
At least from me these filthy monsters drive,  
And let me eat with quiet while I live.   

107  

Ovid of Aeneas coming to S●billa.  And I do vow a temple unto thee,  
Of marble fair to build here in this place,  

Templa tibi statuam, tribuātib● 〈◊〉 honours: but this 〈◊〉 spoken more Christian like.  Whose gates and cover all of gold shall be,  
Adorned with costly jewels in like case,  
Named by thy name, and graved that men may see  
Thy miracle, which no time shall deface:  
Thus saith the prostrate King that nothing sees,  
And gropes to have embraced Astolfos knees.   

108  

Also Sibi●as answer is not unlike thu.  The Duke to him thus friendly doth reply,  
Nor Angel I, 
Neo dea suncertè, nec sacri thur● honore.  nor new Messias am,  
Nor come from heaven, but mortal man am I,  
And thrall to sin, unworthy so high name;  
But for your sake, 
Humanum dignare capus ne 〈◊〉 errs.  my best skill I will try,  
To kill or drive those fowl from whence they came,  
Which if I do, give God, not me the praise,  
That for your help did hither guide my ways.   

109  
For him your Churches and your altars make,  
That must of duty, Church and altars have:  
This said, he up from ground the King doth take,  
And went with him and other Baron's grave:  
Straightways of meat provision new they make,  
For so the hungry King in haste doth crave,  
In hope that now the monsters would be quiet,  
And not to interrupt him at his diet.   

110  
Forthwith a sumptuous dinner was prepared,  
In stately sort great store and of the best,  
Senapo hopes Astolfo can him guard  
From those foul fowls that did him so molest;  
But lo a sudden noise forthwith was heard,  
The sent of those same viands that were dressed,  
Had brought them thither ere the men were able  
To set down all the dishes on the table.   

111  

The description of the Harpias.  Of them came seven together in a knot,  
With woman's faces, wan with deadly cold,  
So hunger-starved, as death itself might not  
Be at first sight more hideous to behold,  
Their wings were great, but foul black wings God wot,  
Their talents sharp to gripe, but strong to hold,  
A large foul paunch, a filthy tail and long,  
From whence there came an odour mighty strong.   

112  
As sudden heard, so sudden were they seen,  
For on the table all at once they fell,  
And spoiled the meat, and from their wombs uncleen  
Cast loath some filth to see, irksome to smell:  
The Duke with blade of metal sharp and keen,  
Strikes at the monsters, thinking them to quell;  
But all in vain, his bootless blade turned back,  
As he had smitten on a woollen sack.   

113  
Some rau'nously devoured the sweet repast,  
And did so eager fill their greedy gorge,  
That by and by they were compelled as fast,  
The same in beastly manner to disgorge:  
The woeful King thinks now all succour past,  
Till good Astolfo swore by sweet Saint George, 
Astolfo 〈◊〉 after the 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 nobility 〈◊〉 George.   
Sith force was vain, he would another way,  
To drive these monsters from the king assay.   

114  
The horn, which ever he about him bears,  
He means against these monsters to employ,  
He caused the King and his to stop their ears  
With molted wax, that no noise them may noy,  
Else might his blast have bred in them such fears,  
To drive them thence, and all the land destroy;  
Then caused he them prepare another feast,  
An up he gets him on his winged beast.   

115  
The steward that did know his mind by signs,  
Straightways another dinner doth address,  
With store of dainty meats and costly wines,  
But in a trise more soon than one could guess,  
The filthy flock, as famine them inclines,  
Came down and seized upon the costly mess;  
But strait Astolfo blew them such a blast,  
As on the sudden made them all aghast.   

116  
The noise into their open ears so entered,  
That had no means to stop them nor defence,  
As so their stomachs and their tastes distempered,  
They fled, as fear expelled all other sense;  
The English Duke to follow them adventered,  
And winding still his horn, he chaste them thence,  
To that hills foot, whence Nilus first doth fall,  
If so that Nile have any head at all.   

117  
About the bottom of this mighty mount,  
There is a cave descending like a well,  
By which (as dwellers by do oft recount)  
A speedy passage one may have to hell;  
To this the monsters fled, and made account  
Within this cave safe from the noise to dwell,  
Which seen, Astolfo from his beast alighted,  
And ceased the blowing that them so affrighted.   

118  
And for he did with heed the caves mouth mark,  
He nearer doth approach unto the same,  
And with a listening ear he than doth hark,  
If any sound from thence unto him came;  
The entrance looked all like a dungeon dark,  
With smoke that seemed to come from smothered flame:  
But more of this hereafter I will treat,  
For now this book begins to be too great.   

Moral.  In this xxxiij. book there are many things worth the observation, both for historical matter, as also in Allegorical sense, and therefore I would not stand long in the Moral: Only this note I will take of Gradasso for breach of his promise, in not bringing the horse back to the fountain, as was covenanted between them: that many brave and valiant men, such as he is here described to be, how ever they stand upon terms of honour and value, yet if they may obtain their purpose without blows, they will many times dispense both with honour and honesty: which yet I judge rather an example to shun, than a precedent to be followed. And in Senapo, that through riches and abundance grew so insolent, that he would needs think to conquer Paradise; we may see the course of young careless men, that being left rich by their parents, or else advanced (unworthily in their own consciences) to some extraordinary fortunes, strait in conceits begin to despise the divine providence (as Senapo assaulted Paradise) and dispute with their profane tongues, not against this or that religion, but against all religion, having no● argument so probable indeed and so forcible, as that which the Poet martial reciteth of one Silius: 
Nullos esse Deos, inane coelum  
Affirmat Silius, probatque quod se  
Factum, dum negat haec, videt beatum.   
Thus in English: 
That heaven is void, and that no gods there are,  
Silius affirms, and all his proof is this,  
That while such blasphemies pronounce he dare,  
He liveth here in ease and earthly bliss.  But this matter I shall touch more at large in the Allegory.  
For the histories touched in this book they are many and divers, 
History.  but the special drift that mine author hath in this book, is to note how those kings of France that have come to invade Italy, and to make a conquest thereof, or of any part thereof, have had ever ill success, and been either taken or foiled: and of the other side, those that have come to rescue them, and take their parts, have many times brought back honour and victory. Now first mine author for the finer bringing in of the matter fathers it upon Merlin our English prophet (as they term him) of whom I have spoken before in the notes of the third book, alleging that he by Magic framed that sumptuous hall, and therein painted upon the screen thereof all these stories of the time to come.  
First he recites all the excellent drawers of the time past, taking by that, occasion to praise the excellent workmanship of some of his own time: their names he reciteth huddling together; but here I will particularly touch them for their sakes that have not read of them, and are desirous to know of whence they are.  
Timagoras was a Calcydonian, 
Timagoras.  and was the first that is specially noted to have compared his cunning with another of the same science, and to have had the glory from him.  
Parrhasius an Ephesian, 
Parrhasius.  noted specially for his excellent shadowing and giving good proportion to the countenance, and in the outermost lines of the face, which is a great point of that art.  
Polygnotus I find no extraordinary thing to speak of, 
Polignotus:  only I read that he used first to draw women in white garments, and had a special grace in making the opening of the mouth.  
Timant, 
Timant.  they praise his wit as much as his work, for making in a great table the picture of Iphigenia standing at the altar to be sacrificed; and having drawn all the standers by very sad, and with woeful countenances, and specially her uncle; when he came to her father, he made him with a scarce afore his face, signifying thereby that his grief was greater than could be seen in his countenance.  
Protogenes was borne in Sycaunum a country subject to the Rhodians, 
Protogenes.  he was noted for somewhat too much curiosity and tediousness (a fault our countrymen be much noted of, that they know not when their work is well:) howbeit his work was held in such price, that Demetrius lying at the siege of Rhodes, and having opportunity offered him to have fired the town on that side where a table of his drawing did hang, he raised his siege rather than he would burn the table.  
Appollodore was so excellent (as Pliny writeth of him thus) that he opened the door of cunning in that art, 
Apollodore.  by which Zewces afterwards entered into it in the city of Heraclia. 
Zewces.  The story of the strife between Zewces and Parrhasius Zewces. is well known I, think to all, but yet I will briefly set it down: Zewces to show his workmanship, brought a table, wherein he had painted grapes so naturally, that the birds came and pecked at them, thinking them to be grapes indeed: the other had drawn only a curtain, such as they use to have before pictures to keep them from the dust; which curtain looked so like a true curtain, that Zewces being proud of the judgement of the birds, bade him now to remove his curtain to show his picture; but being quickly aware of his error, with a kind of noble bashfulness, granted the prize to his adversary, confessing it was more to deceive a workman then a bird.  
Appelles' borne at Coas, 
Appelles.  was held in such reputation for his drawing, that Alexander the great gave commandment that none should make his picture but only Appelles. He began the image of Venus, and died ere it was done, leaving the imperfect work so full of the perfection of his art, that no man durst ever take upon him to end it: so as even to this day if any begin a work in any kind with any felicity, and after leave it unfinished, they strait liken him to Appelles. Now having spoken so much of all these famous men of old times, it were an enuiovis part to say nothing of those of this age, that have been famous, and are named by mine author also: wherefore I would touch one or two of them.  
Leonard Vinci was a Florentine, 
Leon. Vinci.  a goodly man of person, and so excellent in the Idea or the conceived form of his work, that though he could finish but few works, yet those he did had great admiration.  
Also there was Andrew Mantinaea (whom I forgot to put in by oversight in his due place, 
Andr. Mant.  but I will make him amends here) who being but of mean parentage and very poor, yet his aptness to this kind being made known to the Marquis of Mantua, and encouraged by his liberality (the special nurse of all good arts) grew most excellent in it: and beside other rare works that is seen and shown of his in Rome and in Mantua, he is said to be the first that devised cutting in brass, which how curious a thing it is, the pictures in this book may partly testify.  

Gian Belline.  Gian Belline was a Venetian, and was the more famous because Mahomet (king of the Turks) was so far in love with a table of his drawing, that he sent for him, but the Venetians would not spare him: mary they sent a brother of his, a very good workman. Now (albert the Turks are by their laws forbidden images) yet was this Prince so in love with that picture I spoke of, that when the other drawer came to him, he made him draw both his own picture and the Turks, and so after sent him back again, both highly commended and rewarded.  

Michael Agnolo.  Michael Agnolo (we pronounce it Michael Angelo) was the rare man of this age for drawing and carving both, attaining to the excellency of the art very young, and doing many notable works: but three be most famous, one was carving of an Image of Pity in Rome, another was a Giant in Florence, the third was a picture of certain naked men that went to wash themselves in Arno, and hearing of a sudden alarm in the camp, they made haste to put on their clothes: in which picture were contained all the gestures, looks and motions that men could imagine would happen in such an accident: his father surnamed him Angelo in his cradle, as a presage of some great excellency above ordinary that he should grow to. Raphael and Sebastian were but his scholars, though both very perfect: all which I have the more willingly noted, and at more length than I was wont in the former books in like matters so lightly touched, both because myself (I must confess) take great pleasure in such works (as pleasing ornaments of a house, and good remembrances of our friends) as also to show in what great reckoning that science hath been with Emperors and great Princes, and with Prelates and religious persons: howsoever some austere or rather uncivil persons, will seem either to condemn it or contemn it. And though indeed this Realm hath not bred any Michael Angelos, nor men of such rare perfection as may deserve his title: 
Michael (more than a man) Angel divine.  Yet I may say thus much without partiality, for the honour of my country, as mine author hath done for the honour of his, that we have with us at this day one that for limming (which I take to be the very perfection of that art) is comparable with any of any other country. 
M. Hilliard.  And for the praise that I told you of Parrhasius for taking the true lines of the face, I think our countryman (I mean M. Hilliard) is inferior to none that lives at this day as among other things of his doing, myself have seen him in white and black in four lines only set down the feature of the Queen's majesties countenance, that it was even thereby to be known; and he is so perfect therein (as I have heard others tell) that he can set it down by the Idea he hath, without any pattern; which (for all Apelles privilege) was more (I believe) than he could have done for Alexander. But I am entered so far into pictures, that I know not how to get out again: and though there be so much other story in this xxxiij. book as will ask some time, yet I thought better to set down this of these not able men here altogether, for those that have a mind to read it, then to have turned them over to the Table, where they must look one in one place, and another in another, according as the names would fall out in order of Alphabet. But now to the French story.  

12. staff.  Clodoveus was the first king of France, after that Clodoveus that first received the Christian Religion. This Prince, what time Grimoaldo Duke of benevent had civil wars in Lombardy with Perderite and Gondiberto two brothers, taking this opportunity, made war on Grimoaldo: but Grimoaldo doubting his strength to meet them in the field, with a notable stratagem vanquished them: he feigned as if he fled and forsook his tents, leaving them full of victual and strong wines, which the French men so eagerly devoured, and drank so devoutly of the wine, that it made them sleep more sound that night than was for their safety: for the Duke of benevent set on them in the dead of the night, and so more by force of his wine then of his weapons vanquished them.  

18. staff.  In the time of Pope Vrban the fourth, mentioned covertly in the 18. staff, one Charles Duke of Anjou was called into Italy by the said Pope, and pronounced King of Sicily. But in a short time having done many great feats, the Sicilians conspired against him by the means of one john of Procida, and murdered them all with great cruelty at the sound of an evensong belleso as it is to this day a byword used in Italy if any notable cruelty be done, that is withal suddenly executed, they call it the Sicilians evensong: for they did at one evensong kill not only all the Frenchmen, but also all the women they thought to be with child by them.  

21. staff.  The Earl of Marca, mentioned in the 21 staff, married Queen joan of Naples (the matter for the strangeness of the precedent, I thought worth the noting) this joan being sister to Charles the third, and heir general to the Crown of Naples, was contented, for avoiding the foul infamy that she had by her over great familiarity, and the too much inward acquaintance of one Pandolfo a mean man, to marry with one james Earl of Marca, and of the blood royal of France: but first she indented with him, that he should only have the bare title of King, but she would have the government wholly in her hands: he being once in possession, broke his covenant, and would needs govern all: but she by the help of Francis sforse, in the end deprived him of the whole, and sent him back into his country again, where the poor Gentleman was glad to make himself an Hermit.  

28. staff.  Lodwick Sforse spoken of in the 28. staff, for emulation of the king of Naples, first brought Charles the eight into Italy, and made him so strong, that in the end he was not able to get him out again. This Lodwick his manner was still to be plotting of new devices, to set other Princes at variance: now taking part with one side openly, and feeding the other with money secretly; never fast friend to any, never so proud as when with his smooth tongue and fair promises he had beguiled some plain and open man, not so fine headed as himself. Now though we might perhaps note some men of our time held for notable wise men, and leaning much to this kind of course, yet I see small encouragement, either by his beginning, or proceeding, or ending, why any should think him worth the following: he began an usurper, he lived a dissembler, he died a beggar, and (which is worse) a prisoner. Further it is noted in Guichiardine that he spent (as I remember) eight hundred thousand Ducats in that kind I spoke of, setting Princes together by the ears: and he got this for his labour, that no Prince loved him, as appeared when being ten years a prisoner in France, no man ever made suit in a manner for his liberty. Wherefore Tully saith to Anthony in one of his Phillippiks, Te miror Antone, quorum acta imiteris corum exitus non perhorrescere. I marvel (saith he) friend Anthony, that you are not afraid of their ends, 
29 staff.  whose evil acts you do follow. So surely I would wish none of my friends neither in print not public affairs, to follow those halting courses, but hold it for a maxim, that he that is not a true friend, shall not have a true friend.  
The Marquis of Pescara touched in the xxix. staff, at the assault of Castellnovo in Naples, being impatient of all stay, bargained with an Ethiopian slave to burn the French navy, and to let him in at the Church called Santa Croce, but the slave having greater rewards given him of the Frenchmen, betrayed him, and shot him in with a forked arrow, and so killed him.  
In the xxxiij. staff where he speaks of Geriadad, 
33. staff.  where Liviano the Venetian Captain was taken, I will refer the reader to Guicciardine for the whole discourse of the matter, beginning at the league of Cambray. But the substance of the matter briefly is this: Maxmilian the Emperor, Jews king of ●rance, and all the kings of Europe in effect, together with Pope julio, made a league at Cambray, combining themselves against the Venetians, and indeed prevailed so far against them, that they left them almost nothing in terra firma as they call it, dividing all their towns, some to the king of Spain, some of the Pope, some to jews himself, divers to the Emperor, and two or three to the Duke of Ferrara. But in the end (as commonly in songs of so many parts they cannot long keep perfect harmony, but that some song out of tune) so it fell out, that in parting the spoils, they of the league could not well agree among themselves, and so gave breath to the Venetians, who thereby recovered much of their state again.  
In the xxxvij. staff he speaks of the overthrow of the Swissers, 
37. staff.  that had been before wonderful proud of their glorious title given them by the Pope, who sent them the Pontifical banner, with this title unto it, De●enders of the liberty of the Church, against the pride of Princes. But after that king Francis came into Italy and besieged Milan, the Swissers that were in the town refusing to make a peace with him, which he offered them, coming after to battle were overcome, and seven thousand of them slain.  
In the xliiij. staff and so forward for three or four more, 
44. staff.  he mentions the battle of Pavia, where the king of France was taken, a thing so generally known as I need not stand long on it: only mine author touches one chief oversight of this kings, which was, that his muster masters deceived him in the number of his men: but howsoever it was, sure it is this Prince was a most worthy man, and wanted no quality of an excellent king, valiant and bountiful and such a favourer of learned men, that the Italians termed him, Padre e madre, the father and mother of learning and liberal sciences.  
In the xlix. staff he toucheth the sack of Rome, 
49. staff.  which the Duke of Bourbon was ring leader of, though himself was at the very first assault slain, with a harquebus shot in the head, but the other Captains sacked the town, and in fine drove the Pope to his ransom. And thus much for the story of this book: now I come to the Allegory.  
divers excellent good Allegories may be taken out of this pretty fiction of Prester jannie, 
Allegory.  called Senapos. One is, as I partly touched in the moral, when men through wealth and honour grow proud, and despisers of God and religion, whose state is damnable and incurable, except a flying knight come down from heaven, I mean some Angel of God, or special grace of God, to remove these monsters and monstrous opinions out of their minds. The punishment of blindness laid upon him for that his presumptuous assaulting Paradise, shows that no men are in deed more blind, than those that think they see so much more than other men, specially when they enter into that wilful blindness, of not seeing the way to their own salvation. Italy had been noted long to have had many irreligious men in it, and no marvel, for our old English proverb is, the nearer the Church, the further from God: yet surely those despisers of religion, are themselves despised of many: in so much as it is grown for a by word among them; when they speak of such a man, they will say, Oh, he is grown a profound wise man, he begins now not to believe in Christ, thereby Ironically noting his passing folly. I would stand longer in applying all the particulars of this Allegory, but that I doubt I am somewhat to tedious in these notes already.  
In the Harpias that snatch away the meat from the mouth of this king, 
Allusion.  he alludes (as himself expoundeth plainly in the beginning of the next book) to the Swissers and other strangers that spoil Italy. But a like story, which this may seem to allude unto, is told of Calai and Zet, sons of Orithya daughter to Erictheus king of Athens, who are said to have delivered Phineus king of Thrace from the Harpias in such a like sort.  
Here end the annotations upon the xxxiiij. book.   

  

THE XXXIIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Astolfo hears of Lydias plague in hell,  
Until the smoke annoyed and fold him so,  
That he was feign to wash him at a well;  
Which done, to Paradise he strait doth go,  
Where he doth meet Saint john, who doth him tell  
Strange things, and as strange things to him doth show:  
And there Orlando with the doth receive,  
And sees the fatal threads the sisters weave.  

1  
OH foul Harpias, greedy, hunger starved,  
Whom wrath divine, for iust revenge hath sent  
To blinded Italy, that hath deserved  
For sins both old and late, so to be shent.  
The sustenance that should for food have served,  
For widows poor and orphans innocent,  
These filthy monsters do consume and waste it  
Oft at one meal, before the owners taste it.   

2  
He doubtless guilty is of grievous sin,  
That first set open that long closed cave,  
From which all filth and greediness came in  
To Italy, and it infected have;  
Then ended good, then did bad days begin,  
And discord foul so far off all peace drove,  
That now in wars, in poverty and pain,  
It long hath taride, and shall long remain.   

3  
Until she can her slothful sons awake,  
From drowsy sleep, that now themselves forget,  
And say to them, for shame example take,  
Let others valiant deeds your courage whet:  
Why should not you the like acts undertake,  
As in time past did Calai and Zet?  
That erst like aid to Phineas did bring,  
As did Astolfo th' Ethiopian king.   

4  
Who having driven away these monsters fell,  
From blind Senapos boond, as erst I told,  
And chased them so far, until they fell  
Into the cave most fearful to behold;  
That fearful cave that was the mouth of hell,  
To hearken at the same he waxed bold,  
And heard most woeful mourning, plaints and cries,  
Such as from hell were likely to arise.   

5  
Astolfo minds into the place to enter,  
And visit those that have foregone this light,  
And pierce the earth eu'nto the middle centre,  
To see if aught may there be worth the sight;  
For why he thought what need I sear to venture,  
That have this horn with which I can affright  
Fowl Satan, Cerberus with treble chaps,  
And safely keep myself from all mishaps●   

6  
He ties his flying beast fast by the rains, 
Near begins the tale of Lydia.   
With mind to hell itself to bid defiance,  
His horn fast tie about his neck remains,  
In which much more than sword he puts affiance:  
But at his very entrance he complains  
Of that same smoke that bred him much annoyance,  
That savourd strong of brimstone and of pitch,  
Yet still Astolfo goeth through stitch.   

7  
But still the farther that he forward goes,  
He feels the smoke more noisome and more thick,  
That in himself he 'gan now to suppose,  
If further he should wade he should be sick;  
When lo a shadow seemed to disclose  
Itself to him, of somewhat that was quick,  
And to his thinking hither waved and thither,  
Much like a carcase hanged long in wether.   

8  
The English Duke that had desire to know,  
If so he saw a body or a vision,  
Strake with his sword thereat so fierce a blow,  
As would indeed thereof have made division,  
If it had been as it did seem in show:  
But when he saw his sword made no incision,  
He guessed that it was (by that blows giving)  
A passed spirit, not a body living.   

9  
Then heard he how thus woefully it said,  
Oh you that to these lower parts descend,  
Bring us no hurt, though you can bring no aid,  
And be not so to those whom none can friend.  
The Duke amazed, both hands and footsteps stayed,  
And said unto the ghost, so God thee send  
Some speedy ease of this thy painful smart,  
As thou wilt deign to tell me who thou art.   

10  
And if to work your good lay in my lot,  
Above or here I should be glad to do it.  
Ah (said the ghost) my plague with such a knot  
Is tie, as mortal strength cannot undo it,  
Yet your request deny you will I knot,  
Because you have so great a mind unto it,  
I will declare to you my stock and name,  
And eke the cause why to this place I came.   

11  
My name is Lydia, borne of princely birth,  
And bred in pomp and solaces delightful,  
Though now in place excluded from all mirth,  
I lie condemned by God's high doom and rightful,  
Because while I did live above on earth,  
Unto my love I showed myself so spiteful;  
And many more be here for like offences,  
As he that all doth rule, their plague dispenses.   

12  

Anaxarite, for love of whom I phi● hanged himself in the I'll of Cyprus.  Here lies that fair, but cruel Anaxaritee,  
Whose corpse a stone divine revenge did make,  
Her ghost in smoke that no light ay shall clarify,  
Doth most severe, but most just penance take,  
Because she could without all sense of charity,  

Daphne in the first book of Ovid's Metamorphosis.  Behold her lover hanging for her sake:  
Here Daphnce lies, that now reputes her shunning  
Of Phoebus, whom she scaped with overunning.   

13  
Too tedious it would be for me to tell  
The several names of every female spirit,  
That for reward of their hard hearts, in hell  
Appointed are such portions to inherit.  
Yet far more are the men that there do dwell,  
For like offence, who for their evil merit  
Are placed much more low, though somewhat nie them,  
Where sum doth smother them, and flame doth fry them,   

14  
And reason good, for sith our sex is weak,  
The greater sin it is us to deceive,  
As 
‖ Theseus forsook Anadne. jason for sook Hipsiphile, and after Medea.  Theseus and jason well can speak,  
And he that 
* Aentas forsook Dido. 〈…〉 to 〈◊〉, deflowered Tha●ar, and after, despised her. & put her away, for which he was slain by Abs●●●●  Latin did of rule because,  
With him, on whom fair Absalon did wreak  
The wrong that ravished Thamar did receive,  
With divers that of tone and other gender,  
Refused or left their loves for causes slender.   

15  
But that I may particularly touch  
The cause that brought me to this endless pain,  
My beauty while I lived, and pride was such,  
As none or few did to the like attain,  
And both of them in me excelled so much,  
'twas hard to say which greater was of twain;  
But this I know full well my proud mind grew,  
Out of conceit of my well pleasing hue.   

16  
It happened that a valiant knight of Thrace,  
In state and living of the better sort,  
And hearing praise of my praiseworthy face,  
Confirmed oft by more than one report,  
He purposed, and performed it in short space,  
Unto my father's kingdom to resort,  
That he might sue to me, and only serve me,  
In hope by his great value to deserve me.   

17  
In gallant sort when he to Lydia came,  
And saw with eye what he had heard with ear,  
He calleth scant report, and niggard fame,  
That did to him so barren tidings bear:  
And ravished with my look he strait doth frame  
Himself to wait in court, and tarry there,  
And showed such worth, and used such behaviour,  
As justly might deserve my father's favour.   

18  
Exceeding was his service and desert, 
Look in the ●all of the 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉   
If to a grateful prince it had been done,  
So perfectly he had of war the art,  
That for my fire, by his conduct he won  
All Caria, and of Cilicia part,  
And after these exploits, he then begun,  
For recompense of these his merits rise,  
To pray my father I might be his wife.   

19  
My father him repulsed with answer sour,  
Because to match me higher was his will,  
Not to a private knight, whose chiefest dower  
Was virtue, of whose worth he could not skills,  
His greedy thoughts did nought but gain devour,  
And covetise the branch and root of ill,  
Made him no more regard his virtuous suit,  
Then doth an Ass the sound of sweetest Lute. 
Simile.    

20  
Alcesté (so was named the worthy Knight)  
took this so foul repulse in great disdain,  
Proceeding thence, from whence he ought of right  
Expect great recompense for his great pain;  
Wherefore he parted thence in great despite,  
And vowed revenge, nor was his vow in vain.  
Unto th' Armenian king he thence doth go,  
My father's emulous and ancient so.   

21  
Him, ready to accept each light occasion,  
He soon persuades, without all intermission,  
To make upon my father fierce invasion.  
And make him chief Lieutenant by commission:  
And having won him thereto by persuasion,  
They thus agreed of spoils to make partition,  
As namely all the towns he won should be  
The kings, and for himself he asked but me.   

22  
This legue thus made, what woes my sire he wrought,  
I know not how in speeches to express,  
Four royal armies quickly came to nought,  
Dispersed or dead in half a year and less;  
In fine Alcesté by his value brought  
My father and his friends to such distress,  

●verbe used 〈◊〉.  They took them to a fort with such small treasure,  
As in so Scarbrow warning they had leisure.   

23  
When here a while he us besieged had,  
To such despair he then my father drove,  
To yield me up he would have been full glad,  
To be his wife, yea e'en to be his slave;  
Nor would my fire have thought the bargain e bad,  
If half the Realm with me for dower he gave,  
So sore he feared, ere long to lose it all,  
And die in woeful bands a captive thrall.   

24  
Wherefore in season to prevent the worst,  
Me that had been the cause of all this ill,  
He minds to offer to Alcesté furst,  
To win thereby his favour and good will:  
I went (for why none other do I trust)  
With mind herein my sire's mind to fulfil,  
And offer mine own self at his devotion,  
With half the Realm, if he accept the motion.   

25  
Alcesté hearing I came him to look,  
Against me forth he comes all pale and trembling,  
Not like a conqueror was then his look,  
But rather a captived man resembling;  
Which when I found, my first plot I forsook,  
For well I saw that this was not dissembling,  
With lowering look, I held my peace awhile,  
Then fit for his estate I framed my stile.   

26  
I waxed bold the more I see him faint,  
And first I cursed this unlucky love,  
And of his cruelty I made complaint,  
Which harmed my friends, and chief that he would prove  
Against my will to have me by constraint,  
I further did most sharply him reprove,  
That he so parted with the first denial,  
And never sought to make new friendly trial.   

27  
I told him that his manners were to fierce,  
That though my father his just suit denied,  
Because perhaps his nature is perverse,  
And would not at the first attempt be plied,  
He should not though, all his good deeds reverse,  
But rather aught with constancy have tried,  
By patient suffering, and by painful serving,  
To come unto reward of well deserving.   

28  
And if my father would not have been won,  
I would (I said) his favour have procured,  
And would have prayed him, to make him his son  
If I had found his love to me had dured;  
Or else in secret I would that have done,  
By which of me he should have been assured;  
But sith he needs would try another mean,  
I told him plain, my love was altered clean.   

29  
And though I now came in this humble sort,  
To yield my body, as the price of peace,  
Because my father, whom he held to short,  
Entreated me to sue for his release;  
Yet did I vow to ma● his hoped sport,  
And if to offer force he would not cease,  
I swore that rather I myself would kill,  
Then grant such joys constrained against my will.   

30  
These words and such as these to him I spoke,  
Finding my power was over him so great,  
Wherewith I did him as repentant make,  
As ere was Saint, in Hermit's desert seat:  
He fell down at my feet, and prayed me take  
His naked dagger, and did me entreat,  
To stab him with the same into his hart,  
To take just vengeance of his lewd desert.   

31  
Now when I saw him at this pass, I thought  
To follow this great conquest to his end,  
And strait a little hope to him I brought,  
Of favour, if his error he would mend,  
And if my father's freedom might be wrought,  
And state restored, and he continue friend,  
And not attempt hereafter to constrain me,  
But with his serviceable love to gain me.   

32  
He promised hereof he would not miss,  
And back unto my sire, me safe did send,  
Nor once presumed he my mouth to kiss,  
Think you, how he unto my yoke did bend;  
I think that love played well his part in this,  
And needed not for him, more arrows spend;  
Hence strait unto th' Armenian king he went,  
Whose all the win should be, by consent.   

33  
And in the mildest manner that he could,  
He prayeth him to grant his good assent,  
That my poor sire might Lydia quiet hold,  
And he would with Armenta be content.  
The king Alcesté sharply then controlled,  
And in plain terms, he told he never meant,  
To cease that bloody war at any hand,  
While that my father had a foot of land.   

34  
What if (said he) Alcestes wavering brain,  
Is turned with woman's words: his damage be it:  
Shall I therefore loose all a whole years gain  
At his request? I never will agree it:  
Again Alcesté prays him, and again  
But all in vain, he sees it will not be yet;  
And last he waxed angry, and did I swear,  
That he should do it, or for love or fear.   

35  
Thus wrath engendered many a bitter word,  
And bitter words, did breed more bloody blows,  
Alcesté in that fury drew his sword.  
And strait the guard on each side him enclose,  
But he among them, to himself besturd,  
He flew the king, and by the help of those  
Of Thrace, and of Cilicia in his pay,  
Th'armenians all, he put to flight that day.   

36  
And then his happy victory pursuing,  
First he my father's friends did all enlarge,  
And next the Realm within one month ensuing,  
He got again, without my father's charge;  
And for the better shunning and eschewing,  
Of all unkindness, with amends most large,  
For recompense of all harms he had done,  
He gave him all the spoils that he had won.   

37  
Yea fully to content him to his ask,  
In all the countries that did near confine,  
He raised such sums of coin, by cursed tasking,  
As made them grieve, and greatly to repine.  
The while my hate, in lous fair vizer masking,  
In outward show, I seemed to him incline;  
Yet secretly I studied to annoy him,  
And many ways devised to destroy him.   

38  
In steed of triumph by a privy train,  
At his return to kill him we intended,  
But from such fact, fear forced us to refrain,  
Because we found he was so strongly friended;  
I seemed of his coming glad and feign,  
And promised when our troubles all were ended,  
That I his faithful yoke-fellow would be,  
In woe or weal, to take such part as he.   

39  
Wherefore I prayed him first that for my sake,  
He would subdue some of our private foes,  
And he each hard exploit doth undertake,  
And now alone, and then with few he goes,  
And safe returns, yet oft I did him make,  
To fight with cruel Giants, and with those  
That past his strength oft with some monstrous beast,  
Or Dragon fell, that did our Realm molest.   

40  
Don Hercles' never by his cruel Aunt,  
Nor by the hard Euristeus, was so wrought, 
Hercules labours appossed, by his Aunt juno and Euristeus his half brother.   
In Lerna, Thrase, in Nemea Eremaunt,  
Numid, Etolia, Tebrus where he fought,  
Not Spain, nor no where else, as I might vaunt,  
With mild persuasion, but with murdering thought,  
I made my lover still to put in ure,  
In hope hereby his ruin to procure.   

41  
But as the Palm the more the top is priest, 
Simile.   
The thicker do the under branches grow,  
e'en so the more his virtue was oppressed,  
By hard attempts, the brighter it did show:  
Which when I found, forthwith I thought it best,  
Another way to work his overthrow,  
A way by which in deed I wrought the fear,  
Which yet I shame and sorrow to repeat.   

42  
Against all such as bare him best affection,  
I secretly did still his mind incense,  
And ever one and one, by my direction,  
I made him wrong, till all were driven from thence:  
So was his heart and soul in my subjection,  
So had my beauty blinded all his sense,  
Had I but winked, or up my finger held,  
He had not cared whom he had hurt or killed.   

43  
Now when I thus had foiled my father's foes,  
And by Alcesté, had Alcesté won,  
And made him for my sake, forsake all those,  
That for his sake no high attempt would shun;  
I than began myself plain to disclose,  
And let him know what wise thread he had spun  
With bitter spiteful words, I all to rated him,  
And told him plain, that in my heart I hated him.   

44  
And that I wished his life and days were ended,  
And would have killed him, if I could for shame,  
Save then I should of all men be condemned,  
Because his high deserts were of such fame;  
Yet him and them I utterly contemned,  
And loathed to see his face, or hear his name,  
And swore I would wish him thenceforth no better,  
Nor hear his message, nor receive his letter.   

45  
At this my cruel usage and ungrate,  
He took such grief that in a while he died;  
Now for this sin, he that a I sin doth hate,  
Condemns me here in this smoke to be tied,  
Where I in vain repent myself too late,  
That I his suit so causlesllie denied,  
For which, 
The 〈◊〉 tale.  in smoke eternal I must dwell,  
Sith no redemption can be had from hell.   

46  
Here Lydia this her woeful tale doth end,  
And faded thence; now when her speech did cease,  
The Duke a farther passage did intend,  
But this tormenting smoke did so increase,  
That backward he was forced his steps to bend,  
For vital spirits already did decrease,  
Wherefore the smoke to shun, and life to save,  
He clammerd to the top of that same cave.   

47  
And lest those woman faced monsters fell,  
Might after come from out that loathsome ledge,  
He digged up stones, and great trees down did fell,  
(His sword sufficing both for axe and fledge)  
He hewed and broke, and laboured it so well,  
That 'gainst the cave, he made a thick strong hedge,  
So stopped with stones, and many a ragged rafter,  
As kept th'Harpias in, a great while after.   

48  
But now the Duke, both with his present toil,  
That did with dirt and dust, him all to dash,  
And with the smoke that erst did him so foil,  
As black as foot, was driven to seek some plash,  
Where he himself might of his clothes despoil,  
And both his raiment, and his armour wash,  
For why the smoke, 
Look to the Allegoria.  without and eke within,  
Did taint his clothes, his armour, and his skin.   

49  
Soon after he a crystal stream espying,  
From foot to head he washed himself therein,  
Then up he gets him on his courser flying,  
And of the air he more and more doth win,  
Affecting heaven, all earthly thoughts defying:  
As fishes cut the liquid stream with fin, 
Sumile.   
So curreth he the air and doth not stop,  
Till he was come unto that mountains top.   

50  
This hill nigh touched the circle of the Moon,  
The top was all a fruitful pleasant field,  
And light at night, as ours is here at noon,  
The sweetest place that ever man beheeld;  
(There would I dwell if God gave me my boon) 
〈◊〉 description ●ad. sc.   
The soil thereof most fragrant flowers did yield,  
Like Rubies, Gold, Pearls, Sapphires, Topas stones,  
Crisolits, Diamonds, jacints for the nonce.   

51  
The trees that there did grow were ever green,  
The fruits that thereon grew were never fading,  
The sundry coloured birds did sit between,  
And sing most sweet, the fruitful boughs them shading:  
The rivers clear as crystal to be seen,  
The fragrant smell; the sense and soul invading,  
With air so temperate and so delightsome,  
As all the place beside was clear and lightsome.   

52  
Amid the plain a palace passing fair  
There stood, above conceit of mortal men,  
Built of great height into the clearest air,  
And was in circuit twenty mile and ten,  
To this fair place the Duke did strait repair,  
And viewing all that goodly country then,  
He thought this world, compared with that palace,  
A dunghill vile, or prison void of solace.   

53  
But when as nearer to the place he came,  
He was amazed at the wondrous fight,  
The wall was all one precious stone, the same,  
And then the carbuncle more sanguine bright;  
O workman rare, o most stupendious frame,  
What Dedalus of this had oversight?  
Peace ye that wont to praise the wonders seven  
Those earthly kings made, this the King of heaven.   

54  
Now while the Duke his eyes with wonder fed,  
Behold a fair old man in th'entry stood,  
Whose gown was white, but yet his jacket red,  
The tone as snow, the tother lokt as blood,  
His beard was long and white, so was his head,  
His countenance was so grave, his grace so good,  
A man thereby might at first sight suspect,  
He was a Saint, and one of Gods elect.   

55  
He coming to the Duke with cheerful face,  
Who now alighted was for reverence sake,  
Bold Baron (said the Saint) by special grace,  
That suffered waste this voyage strange to make,  
And to arrive at this most blessed place,  
Not knowing why thou didst this journey take,  
Yet know that not without the will celestial,  
Thou comest here to Paradise terrestial.   

56  
The cause you come a journey of such length,  
Is here of me to learn what must be done,  
That Charles and holy Church may now at length  
Be freed, that erst were well-nigh overrun,  
Wherefore impute it not to thine own strength,  
Nor to thy courage, nor thy wit, my son,  
For neither could thy horn nor winged steed,  
Without God's help stand thee in any steed.   

57  
But at more leisure hereof we will reason,  
And more at large I mind with you to speak,  
Now with some meat refresh you, as is reason,  
Left fasting long may make your stomach weak;  
Our fruits (said he) be never out of season:  
The ●uke rejoiced much, and marvelled eke,  
Then chief when by his speeches and his cote,  
He knew was he that the fourth Gospel wrote.   

58  
That holy john whom Christ did hold so dear,  
That others thought he death should never see,  
Though in the Gospel it appears not clear,  
But thus he said, What if it pleased me,  
O Peter, that thy fellow tarry here,  
Until my coming, what is that to thee?  
So though our Saviour not directly spoke it,  
Yet sure it was, so every one did take it.   

59  
He here assumed was in happy hour,  
Whereas before Enoch the Patriarch was,  
And where the Prophet bides of mighty power,  
That in the fiery coach did thither pass:  
These three in that so happy sacred bower,  
In high felicity their days did pass,  
Where in such sort to stand they are allowed,  
Till Christ return upon the burning cloud.   

60  
These saints him welcome to that sacred seat,  
And to a stately lodging him they brought;  
And for his horse likewise ordained meat,  
And then the Duke himself by them was taught,  
The dainty fruits of Paradise to eat,  
So delicate in taste, as sure he thought  
Our first two parents were to be excused,  
That for such fruit obedience they refused.   

61  
Now when the Duke had nature satisfied,  
With meat and drink, and with his due repose,  
(For there were lodings fair, and all beside  
That needful for man's use man can suppose)  
He gets up early in the morning tide,  
What time with us allow, the Sun arose,  
But ere that he from out his lodging moved,  
Came that disciple whom our Saviour loved.   

62  
And by the hand the Duke abroad he led,  
And said some things to him, I may not name,  
But in the end (I think) my son he said,  
Although that you from France so lately came,  
You little know how those in France have sped, 
He saith, your Orlando, because he was his cousin: Sentence.   
There your Orlando quite is out of frame,  
For God his sin most sharply now rewardeth,  
Who most doth punish whom he most regardeth.   

63  
Know that the champion your Orlando, whom  
God so great strength and so great courage gave,  
And so rare grace, that from his mothers wome,  
By force of steel his skin no hurt might have,  
To th'end that he might fight for his own home,  
And those that hold the Christian faith to save;  
As Samson erst enabled was to stand,  
Against Philistines for the Hebrew land.   

64  
This your Orlando hath been so ungrate,  
For so great grace received, unto his maker,  
That when his country was in weakest state,  
And needed succour most, he did forsake her  
For love (O woeful love that breeds God's hate)  
To woe a Pagan wench, with mind to take her,  
And to such sin this love did him entice,  
He would have killed his kinsman once or twice.   

65  
For this same cause doth mighty God permit  
Him mad to run, with belly bare and breast,  
And so to daze his reason and his wit,  
He knows not others, and himself knows least:  
So in times past our Lord did deem it fit,  
To turn the king of Babel to a beast,  
In which estate he seven whole years did pass,  
And like an ox did feed on hay and grass.   

66  
But for the Palladins offence is not  
So great as was the King of Babel's crime,  
The mighty Lord of mercy doth allot  
Unto his punishment a shorter time,  
Twelve weeks in all he must remain a sot,  
And for this cause you suffered were to climb  
To this high place, that here you may be taught  
How to his wits Orlando may be brought.   

67  
Here you shall learn to work the feat I warrant,  
But yet before you can be fully sped,  
Of this your great, but not forethought on arrant,  
You must with me a more strange way be led,  
up to the Planet, 
The Moons the lowest Planet.  that of all stars errant  
Is nearest us, when she comes over head,  
Then will I bring you where the medicine lies,  
That you must have to make Orlando wise.   

68  
Thus all that day they spent in divers talk,  
With solace great, as never wanteth there,  
But when the Sun began this earth to baulk,  
And pass into the other hemisphere,  
Then they prepared to fetch a further walk,  
And strait the fiery charet that did bear  
Elias, when he up to heaven was carried,  
Was ready in a trice, and for them tarrid.   

69  
Four horses fierce, as red as flaming fire,  
Th'Apostle doth into the charet set,  
Which when he framed had to his desire,  
Astolfo in the car by him he set,  
Then up they went and still ascending hire,  
Above the fiery region they did get,  
Whose nature so th' Apostle than did turn,  
That though they went through fire, they did not burn.   

70  
I say although the fire were wondrous hot,  
Yet in their passage they no heat did feel,  
So that it burnt them, nor offends them not;  
Thence to the Moon he guides the running wheel,  
The Moon was like a glass all void of spot,  
Or like a piece of purely burnished steel,  
And looked, although to us it seemed so small,  
Well-nigh as big as earth and sea and all.   

71  
Here had Astolfo cause of double wonder,  
One, that that region seemeth there so wide,  
That unto us that are so far asunder,  
Seems but a little circle, and beside,  
That to behold the ground that him lay under,  
A man had need to have been sharply eide,  
And bend his brows, and mark e'en all they might,  
It seemed so small, now chiefly wanting light.   

72  
'twere infinite to tell what wondrous things 
This 〈◊〉 greeing 〈◊〉 English 〈◊〉 we uses, th● wits are be● the M●● they have ●● up things ● circle of the Moon.   
He saw, that passed ours not few degrees,  
What towns, what hills, what rivers and what springs,  
What dales, what palaces, what goodly trees;  
But to be short, at last his guide him brings,  
Unto a goodly valley, where he sees  
A mighty mass of things strangely confused,  
Things that on earth were lost, or were abused.   

73  
A storehouse strange, that what on earth is lost,  
By fault, by time, by fortune, there is found,  
And like a merchandise is there engrossed, 
Look in the Allegun.   
In stranger fort than I can well expound;  
Not speak I sole of wealth, or things of cost,  
In which blind fortunes power doth most abound,  
But e'en of things quite out of fortune's power,  
Which wilfully we wast each day and hour.   

74  
The precious time that fools misspend in play,  
The vain attempts that never take effect,  
The vows that sinners make, and never pay.  
The counsels wise that careless men neglect,  
The fond desires that lead us oft astray,  
The praises that with pride the heart insect,  
And all we lose with folly and misspending,  
May there be found unto this place ascending.   

75  
Now as Astolfo by those regions past,  
He asked many questions of his guide,  
And as he on tone side his eye did cast,  
A wondrous hill of bladders he espied; 
Pride of Pr● and 〈◊〉 their 〈◊〉.   
And he was told they had been in time past,  
The pompous crowns and sceptres full of pride,  
Of monarchs of Assiria, and of Greece,  
Of which now scantly there is left a piece.   

76  
He saw great store of baited hooks with gold, 
Gifts gives Prince's 〈◊〉 of re●●.   
And those were gifts that foolish men preferred,  
To give to Princes covetous and old,  
With fondest hope of future vain reward:  
Then were there ropes all in sweet garlands rolled, 
〈…〉 〈◊〉   
And those were all false flatteries he hard,  
Then heard he crickets songs like to the verses, 
〈…〉   
The servant in his master's praise reherses.   

77  
There did he see fond loves, that men pursue, 
〈…〉   
To look like golden gives with stones all set,  
Then things like Eagles talents he did view, 
〈◊〉 words.   
Those offices that favourites do get:  
Then saw he bellows large that much wind blue,  
Large promises that Lords make, and forget, 
Great 〈…〉   
Unto their Ganimeds' in flower of youth,  
But after nought but beggary enfewth.   

78  
He saw great Cities seated in fair places, 
〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉.   
That overthrown quite topsy-turvy stood,  
He asked and learned, the cause of their defaces  
Was treason, that doth never turn to good:  
He saw fowl serpents, with fair women's faces,  
Of coiners and of thieves the cursed brood,  
He saw fine glasses, 
●courturs.  all in pieces broken,  
Of service lost in court, a woeful token.   

79  
Of mingled broth he saw a mighty mass,  
That to no use, all spilled on ground did lie,  
He asked his teacher, and he heard it was,  
The frutlesse alms that men give when they die:  
Then by a fair green mountain he did pass,  
That once smelled sweet, but now it stinks perdy,  
This was that gift (be't said without offence)  
That Constantin gave Silvester long since.   

80  
Of birdlymd rods, he saw no little store, 
〈◊〉 gift in understood the 〈◊〉 of Rome. ●●h Constan●●● Pope ●●ster, which ●ur now ●●ursinnes. ●● because of ●●.   
And these (O Ladies fair) your beauties be,  
I do omit ten thousand things and more  
Like unto these, that there the Duke did see:  
For all that here is lost, there evermore  
Is kept, and thither in a trise doth flee,  
Howbeit more nor less there was no folly,  
For still that here with us remaineth wholly.   

81  
He saw some of his own lost time and deeds,  
But yet he knew them not to be his own,  
They seemed to him disguised in so strange weeds,  
Till his instructor made them better known:  
But last, the thing which no man thinks he needs,  
Yet each man needeth most, to him was shown,  
By name man's wit, which here we lose so fast,  
As that one substance, all the other past.   

82  
It seemed to be a body moist and soft,  
And apt to mount by every exhalation,  
And when it hither mounted was aloft,  
It there was kept in pots of such a fashion, 
●● 〈◊〉 kept 〈◊〉, like oil.   
As we call jars, where oil is kept in oft:  
The Duke beheld with no small admiration,  
The jars of wit, amongst which one had writ,  
Upon the side thereof, Orlando wit.   

83  
This vessel bigger was then all the rest,  
And every vessel had ingrau'n with art,  
His name, that erst the wit therein possessed:  
There of his own the Duke did find a part,  
And much he musd and much himself he blest,  
To see some names of men of great desert,  
That think they have great store of wit, and boast it,  
And here it plain appeared they quite had lost it.   

84  
Some lose their wit with love, some with ambition,  
Some running to the sea, great wealth to get,  
Some following Lords, and men of high condition,  
And some in fair jewels rich and costly set:  
One hath desire to prove a rare Magition,  
And some with Poetry their wit forget,  
Another thinks to be an Alchemist,  
Till all be spent, and he his number mist.   

85  
Astolfo takes his own before he goes,  
For so th'evangelist did him permit;  
He set the vessels mouth but to his nose,  
And to his place, he snuffed up all his wit:  
Long after wise he lived as Turpin shows,  
Until one fault he after did commit,  
By name the love of one fair Northern lass, 
This is written in the fourth book of the five Cantos, aided to Ariosto, which many think were 〈◊〉 of his doing, and are veris unperfect.   
Sent up his wit unto the place it was.   

86  
The vessel where Orlando's wit was closed,  
Astolfo took, and thence with him did bear,  
It was far heavier than he had supposed,  
So great a quantity of wit was there;  
But yet ere back their journey they disposed,  
The holy Prophet brought Astolfo, where  
A palace (seldom seen by mortal man)  
Was placed, by which a thick dark river ran.   

87  
Each room therein was full of divers fleesis,  
Of will, of lint, of silk, or else of cotton,  
An aged woman spun the divers peecis,  
Whole look and hew, did show her old and rotten: 
Simile.   
Not much unlike unto that labour, this is,  
By which in Summer, new made silk is gotten,  
Where from the silk worm his fine garment taking  
They reave him of the clothes, of his own making.   

88  
For first in one large room a woman span  
Threads infinite, of divers stuff and hue;  
Another doth with all the speed she can,  
With other stuff, the distanes still renew:  
The third in feature like, and pale and wan,  
Doth sever fair from foul, and old from new:  
Now who be these? the Duke demands his guide.  
These be the fatal sisters, he replied;   

89  
The Parcees that the thread of life do spin,  
To mortal men, hence death and nature know  
When life must end, and when it must begin:  
Now, she that doth divide them, and bestow  
The course from finer, and the thick from thin,  
To that end works, that those that finest grow,  
For ornaments in Paradise may dwell,  
The course are cursed to be consumed in hell.   

90  
The Duke did further in the place behold,  
That when the threads were spent that had been spun,  
Their names in brass, in silver, or in gold,  
Were wrote, and so into great heaps were done;  
From which a man that seemed wondrous old,  
With whole loads of those names away did run,  
And turned again as fast, the way he went,  
Nor never weary was, not ever spent.   

91  
This aged man did hold his pace so swift,  
As though to run, he only had been borne,  
Or had it given him as a special gift;  
And in the lappet of his cloak were borne,  
The names of men, with which he made such shift;  
But now a while I crave to be forborn,  
For in the book ensuring shallbe showed,  
How this old sire his carriage ill bestowed.   
In this xxxiiij. 
Moral.  book, is to be noted in the tale of Lydia, the punishment of ingratitude, and what an odious sin the same is, in the sight of God and the world: also here are to be observed many kinds of ingratitudes: as first of her despising of Alcestes long service, and approved good will, and secondly of the father's ingrate recompenses, for his great deserts by services in the wars, in which kind, it is not only slanderous, but dangerous for a Prince to show a niggardly mind, and much more a contemptuous disposition. For though indeed no subject (rightly considering his duty) ought to be moved by any ingratitude or injury of his severaigne, to forget his allegiance, yet seeing the nature of most men, and specially of brave and resolute minded men, is subject to the passion of revenge, and can hardly bridle the same when they shall find themselves (as they think) disdained, or their services not well regarded: therefore the wisest and safest way, and sittest for the Majesty of a Prince, is to be liberal in rewarding, or at least thankful in accepting such men's services, and to consider that love and bounty, are stronger bands of allegiance, then fear and duty.  
Concerning the History of this book, 
History.  I have quoted some briefly by the side, and some is so plain it expounds itself: only I mean to add a word or two what at I have read, concerning that which is here delivered by mine author, about the Assumption of S. john. First, how far the Scripture toucheth the same in the Gospel, every one knoweth, and how upon the speech of our Saviour (if I will be tarry till I come, what is that to thee) it was noised among the Disciples, that that Disciple should never see death. After this, as other of good credit have delivered, S. john lived till he was an hundred year old, and then made himself a tomb, and entered thereinto alive in presence of many, and on the sudden, a light shone all about the place, and took the tomb for the time, quite from their sights: but the light being gone, the coffin was found empty, and the body of that Saint was no more seen upon the earth. Whereupon it was certainly thoughtthat he was taken up into heaven or Paradise, as Enoch and Elias were. Though this of S. john be not recorded in the Scripture (nor no more is the assumption of the blessed virgin) and consequently, no man is bound to believe it, as an article of our Creed: Yet for mine own opinion, I think it may be very true, and I would in such cases believe a great deal more than I need, rather than anything less them I ought; for the tone (if it be a sin) is surely pardonable, but the other doubtless is very damnable. But I will briefly note the Allegory that is meant hereby.  
First, 
Allegory.  whereas Astolfo washeth himself in a christ all well of clear water, before he can fly up to Paradise, it signifieth, that after a man shall by remorse, and devout consideration, weigh and behold the filthiness of his sin, he must then wash himself with the clear spring water of prayer and repentance; and then and not before, be may mount to Paradise: which may here be understood the comfortable peace of conscience, the only true Paradise of this world. And whereas Astolfo cometh to S. john (whose name signifieth grace) to receive by his help Orlando's lost wits, for so it is set down that that was the secret cause why he was guided thither, though unawares to himself: thereby it is to be understood, that no hope nor means is left for any man that hath lost his wit, with following the vanities and pleasures of this world (as diverse careless christians do, in forgetting and omitting their duties to God, which is the very highest point of folly,) I say there is no mean for them to recover their wit again, but only by the help of this S. john, that is this, grace of God, which can miraculously restore it again.  
In the description of S. john's apparel (His gown was white, but yet his jacket red, The tone was snow, the other lookr as blood, etc.) by the red is signified charity, which burneth with Zeal and seruentinesse of love; by the white is meant virginity and pureness of life.  
All those things that he saines to have been showed Astolfo in the circle of the Moon, are but similitudes, and likeness of such follies, as he that will mark them well, shall easily discern.  
The old man that ran away so fast with the Printed names of men, and flung them in the dark stream, figureth time, as in the next book mine author very artificially explanet bit: affirming in the person of S. john, as if it were (as our proverb faith) as true as the Gospel, that the only defence against the malice of time, is the pen of the learned: and that same out lasteth, and out styeth all things: as the well learned Gentleman, and my very good friend M. Henry Constable wrote in his Sonnet to the now king of Scotland. 
Where others hooded with blind love do fly  
A low on ground, with buzzard Cupid's wings,  
A heavenly love from love to love thee brings,  
And makes thy Muse to mount above the sky.  
Young Muses be not wont to fly so hy,  
Age taught by time, such sober ditty sings,  
But thy youth flies from love of youthful things,  
And so the wings of time doth overfly.  
Thus thou disdainest all worldly wings as slow,  
Because thy Muse with Angels wings doth leave  
Times wings behind, and Cupid's wings below,  
But take thou heed, lest Fame's wings thee deceive,  
With all thy speed from Fame thou canst not slay.  
But more thou flees, the more it follows thee.   
For the punishment of Lidy as ingratitude by hanging in the eternal smoke, 
Allusion.  makes me call to mind a story of the Emperor Severus as I remember, who hearing that a favourite of his accustomed to promise many men great furtherancein their suits, by his favour with the Prince, and having taken their reward, his promise vanished into the air like a vapour, and left the poor suitors nothing but his vain breathed words: the just Emperor caused him to be smothered to death with smoke, saying Fumo percat, qnifumum vendidit. Let sum him choke, that selleth smoke.  
Here end the annotations upon the xxxiiij. book.   

  

THE XXXV. BOOE.  
THE ARGUMENT.  

Saint john the praise of writers doth recount:  
Bradamant doth with good success recover  
The prisoners, that were ta'en by Rodomount:  
This done, she sends a challenge to her lover,  
And sends withal an horse of good account,  
Which makes Rogero long in doubt to hover;  
The while, before his face the fall he saw,  
Of Serpentine, Grandonio, and Ferraw.   

1  
Fair mistress who for me to heaven shall fly,  
To bring again from thence my wandering wit,  
Which I still loose, since from that piercing eye,  
The dart came forth that first my heart did hit?  
Nor of my loss, at all complain would I.  
Might I but keep that which remaineth yet,  
But if it still decrease, within short space,  
I doubt I shall be in Orlando's case.   

2  
Yet well I wot where to recover mine,  
Though not in Paradise nor Cynthia's sphere,  
Yet doubtless in a place no less divine,  
In that sweet face of yours, in that fair hear,  
That ruby lip, in those two starlike cyne,  
There is my wit, I know it wanders there;  
And with my lips, if you would give me leave,  
I there would search, I thence would it receive,   

3  
But to return unto that English Prince,  
Whom (if you do remember) with S. john,  
By ugly stream I left a little since,  
The fatal sister spinners looking on,  
Who sometime do prolong, and sometime mince  
Our thread of life, I say he saw anon,  
Among a million more, 
The golden fleece  one passing fleece,  
More sine then that that jason brought to Greece.   

4  
So shone the thread that from that fleece out came,  
No gold, nor Orient pearl could look so bright,  
Astolfo much desired to know his name,  
And time of birth, that to that thread had right.  
Straightways this answer unto him doth frame,  
He that the dark apocalypse did write;  
The number of his birth shall noted be,  
When twenty shallbe ta'en from M and D.   

5  
And as the fleece which here so fair doth show,  
In finest substance pasteth all the rest;  
So shall the person that the same doth owe,  
Make that same age in which be liveth, blest,  
For all the gifts that nature can bestow,  
Or with which study can a man invest,  
Shall powered be on him with large proportion,  
Assigned from above, to be his portion.   

6  
There stands (said he) near to the banks of Poe, 
Perr●●,   
A village now of small or none account,  
Whose moorish seat the stream doth overflow,  
But in that time that I to you recount,  
Unto a City of such state shall grow,  
As all the neighbour towns it shall surmount;  
Nor sole in walls, and buildings fair and stately,  
But in good arts of old found out, or lately.   

7  
Nor think you this preferment to proceed,  
By peradventure, or as it were by chance,  
But e'en as a thing by God himself decreed,  
For one man's sake, his native soil t'advance;  
As still we see those that good fruits will breed, 
Simile.   
Do grass the stock, and prune & pike the branch,  
Or as the goldsmith polisheth the metal, 
Simile.   
In which he minds a gem of price to settel.   

8  
For near shall soul that shall to earth descend,  
With mortal garment be more comely clad,  
Never did God a soul from hence down send,  
That more choice gifts, nor more rare virtues had  
Then this, which unto him he doth intend,  
That shall his country and his friends make glad,  
Hippolito of Est his name shall be,  
To whom the heavens such favours do decree.   

9  
For all those virtues great that wont are,  
To set forth divers, diversly divided,  
Shall joined be in this same man most rare,  
Unto such place, by heavens appointment guided;  
Maintained shall studies be by his great care,  
All quarrels cease, and broils shall be decided,  
Whose virtues all, if I to tell prolong,  
Orlando should expect his wit too long.   

10  
Thus much the follower of jesus spoke,  
The while Astolfo those same webs doth view,  
From whence our lives end and beginning take:  
One spun, one cut, the third doth stuff renew.  
Then came they to the foul and loathsome lake,  
Dark, deep and miry, of a deadly hue,  
Where was the aged man, that never stinted  
To carry bundles of the names imprinted.   

11  
This was the man, whom (as I told before)  
Both use and nature so swift paced had made,  
He never rested, but ran evermore,  
And with his running he did use this trade;  
A heap of names within his cloak he bore,  
And in the river did them all unlade;  
Or (plain to speak) away he cast them all  
Into this stream, which Lethee we do call.   

12  
This prodigal old wretch no sooner came  
Unto this cursed rivers barren bank,  
But despratly, without all fear of blame,  
Or caring to deserve reward or thank,  
He hurled therein full many a precious name,  
Where millions soon into the bottom sank,  
And scant in every thousand one was found,  
That was not in the gulf quite lost and drowned.   

13  
Yet all about great store of birds there flew,  
As vulture's carrion crows, and chattering pies,  
And many more of sundry kinds and hue,  
That made lewd harmony with their loud cries:  
These, when the careless wretch the tresor threw  
Into that stream, did all they could devise,  
What with their talents some, and some with beak  
To save some names, but find themselves too weak.   

14  
For ever as they sought themselves to raise,  
To bear away those names of great renown,  
The weight of them so heavy downward ways,  
They in the stream were driven to cast them down,  
Only two swans sustained so great a praise,  
In spite of him that sought them all to drown,  
These two do still take up whose names they list,  
And bore them safe away, and never mist.   

15  
Sometime all under that soul lake they dived,  
And took up some that were with water covered,  
And those that seemed condemned, they reprieved,  
And often, as about the bank they hovered,  
They caught them ere they to the stream arrived:  
Then went they with the names they had recovered,  
up to a hill that stood the water nigh,  
On which a stately Church was built on high.   

16  
This place is sacred to immortal fame.  
And evermore a Nymph stands at the gate,  
And took the names, wherewith the two swans came,  
(Whether they early come, or whether late)  
Then all about the Church she hanged the same,  
Before the sacred image, in such rate,  
As they might then well be assured for ever,  
Spite of that wretch in safety to persever.   

17  
Astolfo had a great desire to know 
The exposition of the former Allegoris.   
The mysteries most high, and hidden sense  
Of that old man, that still ran to and fro,  
And precious things so lewdly did dispense,  
And of the birds, and of the nymph also,  
That from the swans took names, and bore them  
And therefore asked what they signified, thence,  
To whom the man of God thus wise replied:   

18  
Know first (said he) there cannot wag a straw  
Below on earth, but that the sign is here;  
And each small act doth correspondence draw,  
Although in other show it doth appear:  
That aged man, that running erst you saw,  
And never baits, nor resteth all the year,  
To work the like effects above is bound,  
As time doth work below upon the ground.   

19  
When here the fatal thread of life is spun,  
Then doth below the life of man decline,  
There same, and here their names in metal done,  
Would make them both immortal and divine,  
Save here this aged sire, that so doth run,  
And there below, time doth thereat repine,  
He here flings all the names into a puddle,  
Time there doth all in dark oblivion huddle.   

20  
And e'en as here Rau'ns, Vultures, Pies and Crows,  
And such like birds, endeavour all they may,  
To save those names that worthiest they suppose,  
But wanting strength, the names still downward sway:  
So there promoters, ruffians, bawds, and those  
That can the parasites and jesters play,  
That by great Lords are oft more made of, than  
The true and plain, and virtuous minded men.   

21  
And these (forsooth) good fellows call you must,  
Because they learn like Asle and Pork to be, 
The Ass with bear any thing, the Pork ●ed● himself 〈◊〉.   
But when their Lords be laid full low in dust,  
Their line of life cut off by sisters three,  
Yea oft by their own surfeiting and lust,  
Then these same goodly squires of base degree,  
In their vile mouths, their names bear up and down  
A while, and after in oblivion drown.   

22  
But as the swans that here still flying are,  
With written names unto the sacred port,  
So there Historians learned, and Poets rare,  
Preserve them in clear fame and good report;  
O happy Princes, whose foresight and care  
Can win the love of writers in such sort,  
As Cesar did, so as you need not dread,  
The lake of Lethe after ye be dead.   

23  
But surely God their reason so doth blind,  
And takes from them all sense of wit and skill,  
That when their rooms on earth they have resigned,  
Death both their bodies and their fames might kill;  
Where at the least some fame would stay behind,  
(Admit in part their manners were but ill)  
Had they but wit to get some grace with Cirra, 
C●●aatount on 〈◊〉 of Par 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 Muses.   
Their fame should sweeter smell then nard or myrrha.   

24  
Perhaps Aencas was not so devout,  
Nor Hector nor Achilles were so brave,  
But thousands have as honest been and stout,  
And worthy by desert more praise to have;  
But those fair lands and castles out of doubt,  
That their successors unto writers gave,  
Made them so famous over foreign lands,  
Canonized by the Poets sacred hands.   

25  
Augustus Cesar was not such a saint,  
As Virgil maketh him by his description,  
His love of learning seus th' that complaint,  
That men might justly make of his proscription;  
Nor had the shame that Nero's name doth taint,  
Confirmed now by a thousand years prescription,  
Been as it is, if he had had the wit,  
To have been frank to such as Poems writ.   

26  
Ilind Homer writes how Agamemnon fought,  
And wan at last great Troy that long resisted;  
And how Penelope, though greatly sought  
By many suitors, yet in faith persisted:  
Yet sure (for aught you know) he might have taught  
The contrary to this if he had listed,  
That Troy prevailed, that Greeks were conquered clean,  
And that Penelope was but a quean.   

27  
On other side, we see Queen Dido's name,  
That worthy was indeed to be commended,  
Is subject now to slander and to shame,  
Because that she by Virgil is not friended.  
But on this point I now more tedious am,  
Then I was ware, or then I had intended,  
For I love writers well, and would not wrong them,  
And I myself do count myself among them.   

28  
I wrote a volume of my master's praise,  
For which to me he hath not been ungrate,  
But to this height of honour me doth raise,  
Where (as you see) I hue in happy state;  
I pity those that in these later days  
Do write, when bounty hath shut up her gate,  
Where day and night in vain good writers knock,  
And for their labours oft have but a mock.   

29  
So as indeed this reason is the chief,  
That wits decay, because they want their hire, 
Sentence.   
For where no succour is, nor no relief,  
The very beasts will from such place retire.  
Thus said the saint, 
This is 〈◊〉 such as 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉  and (as it were with grief  
Of such offence) his eyes did flame like fire,  
But turning to the Duke with sober lastre,  
He pacified himself a little after.   

30  
But here I leave Astolfo safe and sound  
With holy john, 
He 〈◊〉 Astolfo 〈◊〉 38 boo●●. ●● staff.  for forthwith leap must I,  
As far as from the Moon unto the ground,  
My wings would fail it still I soared so high:  
Now come I unto her that had the wound,  
That ever smarting wound of jealousy,  
I told she had, 
Canto xx● staff 69.  when last of her I spoke,  
Unhorsed three kings with goldelaunces stroke.   

31  
And how she lay all at a castle sad,  
Although in vain she sought her grief to smother,  
How at that place she perfect knowledge had,  
That Agramant was foiled by her brother,  
And that to fly to Arlie he was glad,  
With good Rogero and with many other;  
This made her unto Provence then to haste,  
Because she heard that Charles pursued him fast.   

32  
Now unto Provence onward as she went,  
A comely damsel in her way she viewed, 
〈◊〉   
Who though she looked like one that did lament,  
Yet could not grief her comely grace exclude;  
This dame had traveled long, with this intent,  
To find some knight that from the Pagan ●ude,  
(Fierce Rodomont, that prisoner held her lover)  
By force of arms again might him recover.   

33  
Now when the comfortless dame Bradamant  
Had met a dame as comfortless as she,  
Such sympathy she felt of grief, that scant  
She kept in tears, so sad a sight to see,  
She asked her what misfortune or what want,  
Of her sad plight, unworthy cause might be:  
Fair Fiordeliege that for a knight did hold her,  
The circumstance of all the matter told her.   

34  
And in most rueful sort she did recount,  
Both of the tomb and bridge the woeful story,  
And how the cruel Pagan Rodomount  
Had taken him, for whom she was so sorry,  
Not that he could in value him surmount,  
That for his value had obtained much glory,  
But that the Pagan not to strength did trust,  
But to a bridge and vantages unjust.   

35  
Wherefore most noble minded knight (said she)  
If such you be, as by your speech I guest,  
Help my dear spouse from bondage vile to free,  
And plague the Pagan that doth him oppress;  
Or if you cannot so, yet counsel me,  
Where I may find some aid for my distress,  
Some knight so stout of heart, and strong of hand,  
As may this cruel Sarazen withstand.   

36  
So shall you do a brave and noble deed,  
That wandering knights, do think they ought of due,  
So might you aid a worthy man indeed.  
And one in love most faithful and most true:  
As for his other praise, it is no need  
For me to tell mine own griefs to renew,  
Sith well I know, they plainly are appearing,  
To all that have their sense of sight and hearing.   

37  
The worthy Dame, that thirsted still for praise,  
Agrees to take this hard exploit in hand,  
As one that ready was at all aslayes,  
On horse, on foot, by water or by land:  
For either thus, she shall her glory raise,  
If so she shall the Pagans force withstand,  
Or die she shall, which danger less doth move her,  
Because she thinks Rogero doth not love her.   

38  
And thus she said, most lovely loving Dame,  
Gladly I shall my utmost forces prove,  
To succour one that merits so great same,  
Yet of his praises chiefly me doth move,  
Because you give him such a noble name,  
That he is true and faithful in his love:  
Which sith you speak by trial, I must ween so,  
Else I durst swear no man alive had been so.   

39  
These last words ending with a scalding sigh,  
A sigh that came indeed from grievous thought,  
Then on they went, till they approached nigh  
The perilous bridge, that Rodomont had wrought:  
And strait the watch descried them from ●on high,  
And blew a horn, by which the Pagan thought,  
That travelers were come the bridge to pass,  
Came out all armed, as his manner was.   

40  
But when that he one all in armour saw,  
He greets them loud with this lewd salutation:  
Ho stay, and ere you pass observe this law,  
Unto this tomb, humbly to make oblation,  
Of horse and arms, with fear and reverent awe:  
Else with this spear expect sharp castigation.  
She, that before had heard of Isabels death,  
And of this tomb, thus stoutly to him seth.   

41  
Ah damned wretch, why should the innocent,  
Endure the penance of thy grievous guilt?  
Thyself shouldst die, or suffer punishment,  
That killed'st her, if please her ghost thou wilt:  
Her soul (upon my soul) would be content,  
If by my hand thy guilty blood were spilled,  
More than with all the armours, men, and horses,  
That thou dost win by thy unlawful forces.   

42  
And so much more it will accepted be  
To her, if thou by my right hand mayst die,  
Because I am a woman as was she,  
And only come on thee my force to try:  
But let us first upon these points agree,  
That if you hap to vanquish me, than I  
Shall suffer at your hands, so and no more,  
Then other prisoners have done before.   

43  
But if I vanquish you (as sure I trust)  
Then I will have the spoil of all the rest,  
And make your horse, and arms, a gift more just,  
Upon the tomb of her for ever blest:  
And then withal, to me you promise must,  
That all your prisoners strait shall be released.  
When thus the Dame her mind had signified,  
Thus the fierce Turk mildly to her replied.   

44  
Fair Dame, you seem to me to speak but reason,  
And thereto I my frank assent afford:  
But true it is, that I for fear of treason,  
My prisoners all, have sent from hence aboard,  
So as I cannot free them at this season,  
But firmly here to you I pass my word,  
If you foil me, of which there is small reobertie,  
I will send word to set them all at liberty.   

45  
But if I conquer you, as sure I shall,  
(For so it is most likely, and most meet)  
I will not hang your armour on the wall,  
Nor send you hence a prisoner in my fleet,  
I will remit to you my conquest all.  
For that fair faces sake, and look so sweet;  
Suffice it that this courtesy may move thee,  
Where now thou seemest to hate me, the to love me.   

46  
Be not (fair Dame) in your own strength be guilded,  
I offer not such grace to every stranger,  
For I am strong; at this the damsel smyld,  
But such a smile, as showed not mirth, but anger;  
And whether courage had all fear exyld,  
Or that despair made her to doubt no danger;  
She spurred her horse, nor other answer made him,  
But with her spear in rest she doth invade him.   

47  
This so did move the cruel Rodomount,  
Upon his horse he doth himself advance,  
Not making doubt, but that he would dismount,  
Out of her seat, the noble Dame of France;  
But he was quite deceived of his account,  
No sooner was he touched with Goldelance,  
But e'en as if of strength he had been reaved,  
Quite from the saddle backward he was heaved.   

48  
But yet the Dame herself in danger was,  
To fall into the stream so swift and fleet,  
By means the bridge so narrow was to pass,  
That hardly two at once thereon could meet;  
But Rabican, whose swiftness did surpass  
All four foot beasts, did firmly keep his feet:  
Although so strait and narrow was the bridge,  
He was constrained to run upon the ridge.   

49  
Now when the Pagan lay thus overthrown,  
She turned to him, and sporting, thus she spoke,  
Now sir (said she) I hope it may be known,  
Of us two which the worse cause did take.  
But he, like one whose wits were not his own,  
He either could or would no answer make;  
But still he stood, looking on ground and musing,  
Neither his foil denying, nor excusing,   

50  
And having walked some half a dozen paces,  
He suddenly cast all his armour off,  
And hurls it 'gainst the stones, and it defaces,  
That scant he left unbroke one piece thereof:  
Determining after such foul disgaces,  
To hide himself, and go a great way of:  
But ere he went, he granted full commission,  
To free his prisoners without intermission.   

51  
So thence he went, and what of him became, 
He comes not to 〈◊〉 the later end of the last 〈◊〉 where Rogers killeth him.   
Or what he did, no notice clear I have,  
But only this, that e'en for very shame,  
He long lived close, within a secret cave;  
The while his arms by that victorious Dame,  
Were hanged up at the tomb, for triumph brave,  
The other arms and furnitures among,  
That erst to Pagan Princes did belong.   

52  
But for all those that were from Christens won, 
Brandimart so● to Monodants.   
She laid them up, and did in safety set,  
Among the which was Monodantes son,  
And Olivero and stout Sansonet,  
Who late before with ill success did run,  
So that the Pagan did their armour get,  
And them themselves as prisoners did convey,  
Unto Algirie, far from thence away.   

53  
Among the rest that had their armour lost,  
Was Sacrepant, the fierce Circassen Prince,  
Who sought for Frontlet, to his pain and cost,  
And with the Pagan fought but little since;  
But being foiled, he quite forlooke that coast,  
Where men, of such disgrace might him convince,  
And with great shame (but what could shame him boot  
He came on horseback, & went théce on foot.   

54  
Wherefore ashamed in such sort to return,  
He minds to follow that his former quest  
Of her, whose love long since his heart did burn,  
Although her love he never yet possessed:  
For still her froward mind did ever spurn,  
Against his earnest, and most just request. 
He speaks no more of Sacrapa●●.   
Of her return he late had heard the news,  
(I know not how) but now he her pursews.   

55  
And let him her pursue, for I proceed,  
Of noble Bradamantes acts to tell,  
Who having done this brave and worthy deed,  
To free the passage where so many fell,  
She wrote it, so as every one might read,  
How all the circumstance thereof befell;  
Which having done, than she demands to know,  
Which way Dame Fiordeliege did mind to go.   

56  
Who strait her purpose, unto her unfolding,  
Told her, to pass the sea by ship shement,  
At Arly, lest the Turk his word not holding,  
Might keep her spouse too long in prison penned:  
Then shall you (saith the Dame) be more beholding  
To me, for sure (said she) 'tis mine intent,  
Unto that town to guard you in your passage,  
So you will do for me, but one embassage.   

57  
And that withal, you me this grace afford,  
To give Rogero this same horse from me,  
And say an unknown champion sends him word,  
To challenge him that all the world may see  
He hath been false of promise and of word;  
Of which, our combat shall the trial be:  
And tell him plainly there is no denial,  
But that by challenge I will make this trial.   

58  
This say, and say no more; and if he ask  
My name, then tell him plain you may not tell;  
The while mine arms shall serve me for a mask,  
This I desire, do t●●s and so farewell;  
This is (said Fior ●●ege) an easy task  
From you, that have of me deserved so well,  
As binds me both to this that you demand me,  
And to what ever else you would command me.   

59  
This said, she takes the bridle in her hand,  
And with her leads Frontino on the way,  
Until they both came to the salt sea sand,  
That next unto the town of Arly lay;  
But Fiordeliege goes to the town by land,  
And Bradamant doth in the suburbs stay,  
To th'end she may convenient respite give her,  
To him the horse, and message to deliver.   

60  
Who when the bridge and gate she quite had past,  
She prayeth one of those that kept the ward,  
To bring her to Rogero in great haste,  
And through the town of curtsy her to guard  
This done, she to Rogero came at last,  
And did her message with most due regard,  
And gave Frontino, and then went her way,  
Nor would she once to hear his answer stay.   

61  
Rogero standeth still all in a muse,  
The messenger and message so beguile him,  
He wonders who it is, that both doth use  
Such courtesy, and yet withal revile him,  
He thinks the party doth him much abuse,  
With foulest blot of breach of word to file him:  
And of all others, lest of all he thought,  
That Bradamant of him the combat sought.   

62  
To think it Rodomont he was inclined,  
But yet it could not sink into his reach,  
Why of a sudden he should be so kind,  
And wherein he could blame his promise breach;  
And save with him, he cannot call to mind,  
With whom he had of friendship any breach:  
The while the Lady with a stately scorn,  
In token of defiance, blew her horn.   

63  
Straightways the news to Agramant doth fly,  
That one without did challenge some within,  
And Serpentine, that then by chance was by,  
Asked leave to fight, with sured hope to win,  
And swears the knight should yield, or else should by  
And then the people flocked both thick and thin,  
And stood upon the walls, with young and old,  
Between these two the combat to behold.   

64  
Out Serpentino came in brave array,  
And bravely with his spear in rest he ran,  
But at the first encounter down he lay,  
The horse runs leer away without the man,  
But noble Bradamant, the horse doth stay,  
And back restore: then finely as she can,  
She prays him to king Agramant to speak,  
To send a stronger knight, sith he was weak.   

65  
The mighty kings of Africa and of Spain,  
That from the wall the courteous act did view,  
From praising of the same could notrefraine,  
Though none of them, thereof the author knew;  
Now Serpentino back returned again,  
And to his Prince he told his message true,  
How that same champion did desire to fight,  
With some more stout and more renowned knight.   

66  
And then Grandonio fierce of Volaterne,  
The proudest knight that Spain long time had bred  
Obtained next place, and with a visage stern,  
And threatening voice thus to the damsel said:  
Your curtsy small reward for you shall earn;  
For either here in fight you must be ded,  
Or at the least, I will you prisoner bring,  
Unto Marsilio, of great Spain the king.   

67  
Well (answered she) keep these your threats in store,  
Your villainy my curtfie shall not let,  
But that i'll friendly monish you before,  
That back again unto your king you get,  
Ere that your ●all, may make your body sore;  
And say that I desired to have met,  
A man indeed of courage, and of worth,  
And not yourself, not him that last cameforth.   

68  
This her reply so mild, and yet so bitter;  
The Pagan with more fury did inflame;  
With spear then speech, he thought an answer fitter  
And toward her in full career he came,  
Intending sure, some deadly blow to hit her;  
But she that was accustomed to this game,  
Bore well his blow, and with her Goldélance,  
She taught him how the somerlaut to dance. 
●sout is a 〈◊〉 tha●●● is to●●●●se to cast ●selues for● the●● heels their head.    

69  
But yet his horse, that lose about did run,  
She brought him back, and thus to him she said,  
Lo sir, you had been better to have done  
My message, when I courteously you prayed;  
Yet here I will release my prisoner won,  
So you will tell your king that I have stayed,  
To combat with a man in fight well seen,  
And not with novices, of skill so green.   

70  
The lookers on that sure thought nothing less,  
Then that a virgin so could guide a spear,  
With murmurings their wonder great express;  
Still aiming with surmises who it were;  
Some Brandimart, and some Renaldo guess,  
Or others whom the Turks had cause to sear,  
But most they would Orlando have suspected,  
Save they had heard his senses were distracted.   

71  
Next stout Ferraw desired to have the place,  
Not that he hoped the conquest to have won,  
But that these knights may have the less disgrace,  
If I (quoth he) shall do as they have done:  
A strong swift horse he takes, and sure of pace,  
Well made to bear the shock, and free to run,  
The choicest of an hundred that he kept,  
And thus all armed upon the beast he leapt.   

72  
Against the female champion forth he goes,  
And first they interchangeably salute,  
Please it you (said the Lady) to disclose  
Your name to me? that shall be all my suit:  
He (that what longs to civil manners knows,)  
To satisfy her therein was not mute,  
And I refuse you not, then said the tother,  
Although I rather would have had another.   

73  
Whom? (quoth Ferraw) Rogero (she replied)  
And scarce she fully could bring forth his name,  
But that a blush with rosy colour died  
Her lovely cheeks, with secret honest shame:  
(Further she addeth) him whole value tried,  
And so much praised, was cause I hither came;  
None else I seek, nor for none else care I,  
Only his manhood I desire to try.   

74  
She spoke the word in plain and simple sense,  
Which some perhaps will subtlie wrest awry,  
Well (said Ferraw) yet now ere I go hence,  
Let me with you have leave on ecourse to try;  
To see if I can make no more defence,  
Then those whom last you made one art to lie,  
If I fall as did they, than I will send,  
That gentle knight, that may our error mend.   

75  
Her beaver open was while they confard,  
At which, when her the Spaniard well had viewed,  
And marked her beauty worthy of regard,  
He was already more than half subdued:  
He thought an Angel of the heavenly guard,  
Could not with greater beauty be endued;  
Against her spear, what fence can he devise,  
That is already conquered with her eyes?   

76  
Now took they field, and ran with all their force,  
And now Ferraw is from his saddle borne,  
The damsel doth of curtsy stay his horse,  
The Spaniard lieth like a man forlorn;  
But back he must unto the king perforce,  
Nor true to do his message doth he scorn;  
He tells Rogero plain before them all,  
How this same knight only for him doth call.   

77  
Rogero who it is yet little knowing,  
In haste to make him ready doth begin,  
A settled hope of conquest plainly showing,  
Willing to fight, with mind assured to win:  
As for their foils, and their fowl overthrowing,  
That went before, he weighed them not a pin;  
But how they met, how kindly him she served,  
Unto the book ensuing is reserved.   
In the beginning of thu book, 
Moral.  after the excessive praises of Hippolito, he returns to the former matter of the force of time, the Allegory whereof I will continue in this place: only for the Moral, I will touch two special faults, which mine author reproves in men of the better sort, one is the great account they make of Parasites, Promoters, and jesters, and such like; for their baseness and filthiness, likened to the ass anporke: and other is their venery and drunkenness, which he noteth by these words, anzi venere e bacco: I Englsh it, by their own surffeting and lust; because surfeiting contains both kinds of excess in meat and drink. And surely I must grant, that our Realm of England hath been noted sorriot in meats, many years since, and not without cause (though not alone) for Plato found the like fault with Italy in his time. but for this other vice of drinking, which, with the name of a health, overthrows all health and sobriety, it is nor grown as usual and more dious than the tother, and I doubt it will not so easily be driven out, as it is suddenly crept in. I have beard a pretty tale not impertinent to this matter, of a Gentleman that had his son at the University, who being be like of so good a conscience (as most of us are in that kind) to take but a little for his money, and growing (as it seemed) more in years, then either in learning, or good manners: his tutor to discharge his duty, sent his father word, how he misdoubted the young man's well doing, because he found him given to dicing and gaming: the father was sorry, but yet answered, that he hoped when his son grew to have more wit, he would leave that, or at least not lose by it. The next news he heard of his amendment, was that now he began to follow women: this touched the father somewhat nearer, yet he replied again, that he made no question but he would leave that ere long for his own ease, and therefore yet he would not despair of him. The last news he heard, was that he began to mend his former two faults; but that now he fell to bilbing and drinking. Out upon the villain (said the father) I will surely disinherit him: for that fault the elder he waxeth, the more he willbe subject to it. Wherefore I conclude this Moral with this exhortation: that if wit cannot make men leave play, nor their own ease make them eschew venery; at least let the ugliness, openness, and beastliness of this sin make them leave it; which hath no defence, nor no praise: I say praise, because the Scripture saith, The wicked man i● praised in his wickedness But I never heard praise ascribed to a drinker, but the well bearing of drink; which might be a good praise for a brewer's horse, or perhaps a brewer's man, but sure it is a small boast for a Gentleman. 
Augustus Caesar was not such a Saint, etc.   
Of Augustus Caesar's faults both Suetonius, 
History.  and Plutarch have written at large, and I am loath to renew the memory of them, except I did also recite his many virtues, which made large recompense for his few vices: sufficeth it to affirm that which mine author saith, that his bounty and love to learned men covered his faults: and of his bounty, among other things witnesseth the saire Palace he gave Virgil, with a goodly Manor, or rather indeed territory, in the field called Ager Cremonensis, near Mantua.  
Whereas it is said, in the person of S. john. 
But yet (for aught you know) he might have taught  
The contrary to this, 
Staff. 26.  if he had listed,  
That Troy prevailed, that Greeks were conquered clean,  
And that Penelope was but a quean.   
True it is that one Dion an Historiographer, writeth to that effect, and enforceth very far to prove, that the Greeks had the worse end of the staff, and only that Homer favouring the Greeks, wrote the contrary. Further some have carped at Penelope's chastity (for what may not a malicious with carp at?) and they say Homer himself insinuateth somewhat of her lightness; where he saith in his Odisseas, that she objected unto her suitors that none of them could shoot so strong a shoot as her husband: but howsoever it is, for my part, seeing it hath been received so long for a truth, that Penelope was a chaste and virtuous wife, I will not take upon me (by S. john) to write the contrary, though mine author make S. john to cast a doubt of it.  
Of the Allegory I have not much to say, because mine author himself expounds it so plainly; only I'pray you mark how rightly and with what decorum, 
Allegory.  he likens promoters, and Parasites, to vultures, carrion crows, and chattering pies, as likewise in the beginning of the 34 book, he likeneth them to Harpias. 
The sustenance that should for food have served,  
For widows poor, and orphans innocent,  
These filthy monsters do consume and waste it,  
Olt at one meal, before the owners taste it:   
As if one would say, the gifts and rewards that belong to old servitors, and well deserving soldiers, are catched at the volise by these ravenou, birds, and never come to the ground, or if they do, they make so false a bound, that a man shall make a fault in offering at them, and many times hazard both game and set for them.  
Bradamant a woman overcoming Rodomont a most terrible Turk, 
Allusion.  alludes to the notable History of judith, that cut off Holofernes head: which story, the Lord Du Bertas, and rare French Poet, continued into an excellent Poems in French, and the same is translated into a very good and sweet English verse, by one M. Thomas Hudson, which work I the rather mention, because in the 6. book of the vice of surfeiting, which I reproved afore in the Moral, it is not ably described and with all sharply rebuked as followeth: 
O plague, O poison to the warrior state,  
Thou mak'st the noble hearts effeminate,  
While Rome was ruled by Curioes' and Fabrices,  
Who fed on roots, and fought not for delices,  
And when the only Cresson was the food,  
Most delicate to Persia, than they stood, etc.   
Here end the annotations upon the xxxv. book.   

  

THE XXXVI. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Duke Ammon's daughter with revenge full hart,  
Doth meet Marfisa, minding her to kill,  
Until the battles joined on either part,  
And so did sunder them against their will:  
Bradamant and Rogero talk apart:  
Marfisa gets of both great evil will,  
By troubling them, but when she knew her brother,  
She reconciled is to tone and tother.  

1  
'tIs meet a gentle heart 
Against cruelty  should ever show,  
By courtesy the fruits of true gentility,  
Which will by practice to an habit grow,  
And make men do the same with great facility:  
Likewise the dunghill blood a man shall know,  
By churlish parts and acts of incivility,  
Whose nature apt to take each lewd infection,  
Custom confirms, 
Sentence.  and makes ill in perfection.   

2  
Of courteous acts, old stories he that reeds,  
In ancient times shall find there hath been store,  
But in our days of bloody cruel deeds,  
Is greater plenty than hath been before;  
For charity brings forth but barren seeds,  
And hatred still is sowd in so great store,  
That when the fruits of both come to be reaped,  
The tone is scarce, the tother over heaped.   

3  
What fierce Barbarian Tartar, Moor or Turk,  
Could use more cruelty than now of late, 
Look in the History of this book concerning this cruelty he complains of.   
In Latin land Venetian force did work?  
Not by consent of the wise men of state,  
But by the filthy nature that did lurk  
In wicked hirelings, and a hidden hate;  
I speak not of the damage and defaces,  
They did by fire in all our pleasant places.   

4  
Though that revenge was foul and to to cruel,  
And chief against Hippolito, who late,  
When Caesar sieged Padua, as they knew well,  
And brought it to low ebb and woeful state,  
He both withdrew the matter all and fuel,  
And quenched the fires kindled by deadly hate,  
Preserving many a Church and many a village,  
By his rare clemency from fire and pillage.   

5  
Not those I mean, nor many actions more,  
That cannot be excused or defended,  
But such an act as stones might weep therefore,  
As oft as it is talked of or reinembred:  
Then when my Lord his household sent before,  
There where his foes were secretly assembled,  
And left their vessels on the saltish land,  
While in ambushment close they lay on land.   

6  
As Hector and Aeneas did by fire  
Assault the Greekish fleet with hardy fight, 
The first 〈◊〉 this b●●k● 〈◊〉 tenth staff, 〈◊〉 ●● were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉.   
So saw I two, whose hearts to fame aspire,  
(One Alexander, other Hercles' height)  
Assault their foes, and drive them to retire,  
Unto their trenches, nay within them quite,  
But one of them returned thence full hard, 
P● 〈◊〉 both 〈…〉 Cantel●●● 〈◊〉 carried 〈◊〉 danger 〈◊〉 his will, 〈◊〉 be repr● 〈◊〉 cruelty th● 〈◊〉 b● to 〈…〉 ●ing it 〈◊〉 Insign D● 〈…〉.   
The tother of returning clean was bard.   

7  
For Ferussine scaped, Cantelmo stayed,  
O Duke of Sore, what sore grief didst thou find,  
To see thy noble son lo soul betrayed,  
Among a thousand blades left there behind?  
His naked neck on side of galley laid,  
And chopped off: now surely in my mind,  
When that same bloody stroke his neck smit off,  
You felt like stroke e'en with the fight thereof.   

8  
Slavonian vile, where didst thou learn to know  
Such laws of war? within what Scuthian land,  
Use men to kill a prisoner taken so,  
That yields, and hath no weapon in his hand?  
Or was it such a grievous sin you trow,  
The foes of his dear country to withstand?  
Why hast thou Sun, so long on this age shined,  
That breeds of Atrews and Thyestes' kind?   

9  
Barbarian vile, that killed so sweet a youth,  
To satisfy thy rancour and thy rage,  
So rare a youth, as to confess the truth,  
His match could not be found in this our age;  
Whose beauty might have bred sufficient ruth,  
Fierce Poliphemus anger to assuage,  
But not fierce thee, more cruel and more fell,  
Then any monsters that in deserts dwell.   

10  
The valiant men did study in time past,  
With clemency their honours to increase,  
And hate no longer than the fight did last, 
〈◊〉   
With victory revenge did ever cease:  
So Bradamant, of whom I told you last,  
The prisoners she had ta'en, did still release,  
And stayed their horses when themselves were down,  
And sent them back again into the town.   

11  
And prayed them but her challenge to deliver,  
Unto Rogero, and to call him out,  
Who meant with spear in rest her answer give her,  
Unto her challenge that she sent so stout.  
Now when the other knights were all together,  
In presence of the kings, they cast a doubt,  
Who this should be, and then they ask Ferraw,  
That talked with her, and her bare visage saw.   

12  
Sure (said Ferraw) it is not tone nor other,  
Of those on whom before your thoughts were set;  
I took it first it was Renaldoes brother,  
Who is in years a very youth as yet:  
But now I rather judge it is another,  
For so much force is not in ‛ Richardet,  
I think it is his sister by her usage,  
Who I have heard is like him much in visage.   

13  
She hath ere this of value had great fame,  
Renaldo and the Palladins among,  
I must confess I found it to my shame,  
Her, than her brothers to be far more strong:  
Rogero, when he heard them her to name,  
Was guilty strait that he had done her wrong,  
And blushed in countenance with bashful grace,  
And oft his heart shot blood into his face.   

14  
Yea fear invaded him, not fear of danger,  
For force he feared not of any wight,  
Of Turk nor Christian, countryman or stranger;  
The very cause of this his doleful plight 
〈◊〉   
Was love, for love fears nothing more than anger,  
He doubts lest she conceived not of him right:  
Thus waving thoughts his mind do both ways carry,  
If so he better were to go or tarry.   

15  
The while Marfisa that was present there,  
And ever had a forward will to just,  
Could now no longer from the same forbear,  
Though seeing some before her lie on dust.  
For all their falls did breed in her no fear,  
So much in her great value she did trust,  
Wherefore least good Rogero might prevent her,  
First she rides forth, and in the lists doth enter.   

16  
And mounted on her horse came swiftly running,  
Unto the place where Bradamant did stay,  
With panting heart to wait Rogeros coming,  
With mind to take him prisoner if she may,  
She thinks how she might guide her staff with cunning,  
As with her stroke do him least hurt she may:  
Thus cometh out Marfisa, nothing fearing,  
Upon her lofty crest the Phoenix bearing.   

17  
Or that thereby to boast her strength she meant, 
The device of the Phoenix may be applied either to pride or shastesie.   
Of her rare strength, of which the took some pride,  
Or else thereby to note her chaste intent  
She had, a warlike virgin still to bide;  
But Bradamant, who first to meet her went,  
And not to be Rogero now espied,  
Did ask her name, and by her name she knew  
That this was she that made her love untrue.   

18  
Or to say better, whom she did surmise,  
To be the sole withholder of her dear,  
Her whom she hates, 'gainst whom her blood doth rise,  
And minding now to make her buy it dear,  
With fury great and rage at her she flies;  
And that she may make all suspicions clear,  
With couched spear she fiercely runneth on her,  
And means to kill her, or to die upon her.   

19  
Marfisa was constrained with the stroke,  
To kiss the ground as those before her had,  
Which to such rage her courage did provoke,  
That with disdain she seemed as one half mad;  
Nor knowing how so great a foil to cloak,  
She draws her sword with an intention bad,  
But Bradamant cry'th out with lofty hart,  
What dost thou traitor? thou my prisoner art.   

20  
And though I used curtsy to the rest,  
To use it unto thee I am not tide,  
Whosemind (as I have heard) is e'en a nest,  
Wherein is bred all villainy and pride:  
Look how great waters rage and do not rest, 
Simile.   
When as the winds do strive against the tide,  
So raged Marfisa rather more than less,  
And for mere spite could not a word express.   

21  
But hurls about her blade with all her force,  
Not caring what she strikes, nor where, nor how,  
Upon the horseman or upon the horse,  
Her rage in her no reason did allow:  
And Bradamant as void of all remorse,  
With mind to break that, that refuld to bow,  
Ran at her with the spear that would not miss,  
And made her once again the ground to kiss.   

22  
But once again upon her feet she getteth,  
And with her sword revengement she intends,  
Each fall she hath, her fury sharper whetteth,  
Yet still she falls, and can have none amends,  
Nor goldelance his wont force forgetteth,  
For all it touches, to the ground it sends;  
Had not the spear been (as it was) enchanted,  
It could not so Marfisas' force have daunted.   

23  
Some of our men were hither come the while,  
I mean some of the Christian host, that lay  
Encamped near the town within a mile,  
So as the walls of Arlie see they may,  
And thinking (for her sex did them beguile)  
Some knight of theirs maintained so great a fray,  
They thither came with will and with delight,  
To see so fierce and well maintained a fight.   

24  
Whom when as Agramant from far espied,  
And thinks they came to bring their knight assistance  
He thought it best in wisdom to provide,  
If they should offer force to make resistance;  
Wherefore he pointed some that of their side,  
May stand from that same place a little distance,  
Of this last crew Rogero was the first,  
With whom the damsel so to fight did thirst.   

25  
And seeing now how fierce the combat gro'th,  
Betwixt these two, to whom he wished none ill,  
Although in sundry kinds he favoured both,  
For tone was love, the tother bore good will;  
To suffer them to fight he was full loath,  
Although for honours sake he must be still,  
Else sure he could have found it in his hart,  
To step between them, and the fray to part.   

26  
But they that with him from the city came,  
And saw the Christian champion was so strong,  
Stepped in betwixt her and the other dame,  
And so withdrew Marfisa them among,  
Which act the other Christens did inflame,  
So that with mind to venge so foul a wrong,  
They stepped in to: thus both sides cried alarm,  
And soon the skirmish waxed fresh and warm.   

27  
Such as before were armed, out do run,  
They that unarmed were, their armour take,  
And some run out on foot, on horseback some,  
Each to his standard doth himself betake;  
The divers sound of trumpet and of drum,  
That doth the horsemen, this the footmen wake,  
But Bradamant is malcontent and wrath,  
To think Marfisa thus escaped hath.   

28  
Then looked she wishly all about the place,  
To find out him that caused all her care,  
At last she knew him though not by his face,  
Yet by the argent ●agle that he bore,  
And viewing well his person and good grace,  
His goodly stature and his feature rare,  
She raged to think another should possess it,  
And in these secret words she doth express it.   

29  
Shall any other than that sweetlip kiss? 
Brad● comp●nt 〈…〉 Poss● 〈◊〉 sp 〈◊〉 N●● 〈◊〉 qu●●spand●.   
And I in love thereof still mourn and pine?  
Shall any other than possess my bliss:  
Shalt thou another's be if none of mine?  
No certes, rather than to suffer this,  
Thou by my hand shalt die, or I by thine,  
If in this life we shall be joined never,  
Death only be the mean to join us ever.   

30  
Although that thou shouldst fortune me to kill,  
Thy death by right should pacify my spirit,  
For laws appoint, who guiltless blood do spill,  
Shall for reward the doom of death inherit;  
Yet still I shall sustain the greater ill,  
For I should guiltless die, but thou by merit,  
I killing thee, kill one that hates me merely,  
Thou killing me, kill'st one that loves thee dearly.   

31  
Why shouldst not thou (my hand) be strong and bold,  
That by thy stroke his hard heart may be riven?  
Who unto me sharp wounds and manifold,  
In time of loves sweet peace and truce hath given,  
And doth eu'a now with stony heart behold  
The woeful state to which poor I am driven,  
Heart now be stout to take thy just revenge,  
Let this one death thy thousand deaths avenge.   

32  
With that at him she runs, but first aloud,  
Defend thyself (Rogero false) she said, 
She 〈◊〉 perp● 〈◊〉 as 〈◊〉.   
And think not thou shalt scape with spoils so proud,  
Of heart subdued of a silly maid.  
Rogero, who to her himself had vowed, 
Diss● 〈…〉 perfia● poss●.   
And to offend her greatly was afraid,  
Held up his gauntlet unto her in token,  
That he with her desired to have spoken.   

33  
He would her wrath with kind words have appeased,  
And showed her how the cause he broke his day,  
Was that with grievous wounds he lay diseased,  
Which forced him against his will to stay;  
But at this time she was so sore displeased,  
She would not hearken what he had to say,  
But with her spear in rest, on him she runneth,  
Who such unkind encounter greatly shuneth.   

34  
But when he saw she was so rash and heady,  
And that her choler now so great did grow,  
That she was in her full career already,  
He puts his spear in rest, at least for show,  
And forward set●, but when she was e'en ready,  
Him to have given a sharp disgraceful blow,  
(Or that it were that she e'en then recanted,  
Or that her heart to harm him courage wanted)   

35  
She bore her lance aloft quite o'er his crest,  
And so of purpose that same course she missed,  
Yet so, as by the manner might be guest,  
She could have hit him furer, had she list,  
And wrath and rage still boiling in her breast,  
To bend her force 'gainst him she did desist,  
But in that mood no little harm she works,  
Unto the other soldiers of the Turks.   

36  
In little time, she with her gilded lance  
Had caused three hundred men on ground to lie,  
So that the conquest to the part of France,  
Was thought to have been gained sole thereby:  
Rogero seeks her out, and last by chance,  
He speaks to her, and faith, my dear I die,  
But I may talk with you, what have I done  
Alas, that you my conference should shun?   

37  
As when the Southern wind with lukewarm blast, 
〈◊〉.   
Doth breath on hills where winter long had dwelled,  
Resolves the rocks of ice that hung so fast,  
And all the new made mounts of snow doth melt:  
So with this gentle prayer, though spoke in haste,  
The damsel such an inward motion felt,  
That suddenly her hardened heart did soften,  
As unto women kind it chanceth often.   

38  
Yet answer made she none, but held her peace,  
She only turned Rabican aside,  
And hasting to get out of that same press,  
She beckoned him that after her he ride:  
Thus went she thence, with mind inclined to peace,  
Unto a valley, where on either side,  
A grove of Cypress so e'en set was seen,  
As if they all of one false stamp had been.   

39  
Amid this grove a goodly sepulture  
Was built, which these fair Cypress trees did shade,  
Of Porphyry and marble white and pure,  
And fair engrau'n, to show why it was made;  
But of the tomb she took no care nor cure,  
But there expected in the open glade,  
Until Rogero having made good haste,  
Approached the wood and damsel at the last.   

40  
●ut of Marfisa now I must you tell,  
Who having got by this her hor'e again,  
Her lofty heart with rancour great did swell,  
To be revenged of this foul suffered stain,  
And seeing where she went, as it befell,  
And how Rogero followed her amain,  
She little thinketh that it is for love,  
But rather that they may the combat prone.   

41  
Wherefore to follow them she thinks it best,  
So as she came almost as soon as they,  
But what a redious and unwelcome guest  
She seemed to both, one soon conjecture may:  
Much sure it did the Dordon dame molest,  
Who sole to her Rogeroes faults did lay,  
She deemed that to come thither nothing moved her,  
But that Rogero in ill sort had loved her.   

42  
And false, Rogero she again doth name,  
And was it not enough false man, said she,  
That of thy falsehood I should here by same,  
But that I with these eyes the same should see?  
But sith I find thou dost thy actions frame,  
To drive me with unkindnesses from thee,  
I am content to die, but ere I die yet,  
She that did cause it, dearly shall abvy it.   

43  
Thus as a Viper angry and malicious, 
Simile.   
With mind indeed to do her best to kill  
Her, that was come in manner so suspicious,  
(Though she came more for wrath, the for goodwill)  
With gilded lance she gives a blow pernicious,  
That quite unhorsed her for all her skill,  
Backward Marfisa fell, and in the dirt,  
Her beaver stuck, but had no further hurt.   

44  
Duke Ammon's daughter that resolves to die,  
Or kill her fo, so much herself forgetteth,  
That thinking to dispatch her by and by,  
Before her head out of the mire she getteth,  
The golden lance she will no farther try,  
But throws it down, as wrath her courage whetteth,  
And to perform the feat, her sword she draws,  
Therewith of fear to cut away the cause.   

45  
But ere she came so near, Marfisa met her,  
Like one with rage, with spite and scorn half mad,  
To think that now again she sped no better,  
And that a while before she sped so bad;  
So that Rogero could by no means let her  
From fight, which to stop great will he had,  
But both of them with choler were so blinded,  
They fought like bedlam folk, and desperate minded.   

46  
They came unto the half sword at the first,  
And with their rage forgetting rules of skill,  
Their overmuch desire to do their worst,  
Was only cause that they could do none ill;  
Their hearts were ready for despite to burst,  
And either purposing to die or kill,  
Did leave her sword aside, in mind supposing,  
With stab to kill each other at the closing.   

47  
Rogero sunders them, and both entreateth,  
To pacify themselves, but all in vain,  
Then of their daggers he them both defeateth,  
And by persuasions moved them both again;  
Sometime he speaketh fair, sometime he threateth,  
Except they will at his request abstain;  
But these viragoes will not thee desist,  
Though weapons want, they fight with feet and fist.   

48  
He steps between again, and back he draws,  
Now one, and then the tother by the sleeves,  
And makes them both against their wills to pause,  
At which Marfisa not a little grieves;  
Herself too greatly wronged in the cause,  
And him to be too partial she believes;  
Wherefore his friendship she doth quite disclaim,  
And open wars with him she doth proclaim.   

49  
And taking up her sword, in terms most vile,  
She saith he plays the churlish villains part,  
And that he greatly doth himself beguile,  
To think her fight against her will to part,  
She swears she will, within a little while,  
Of his own folly make him feel the smart;  
And that she will henceforth so short him curb,  
He shall not dare her combat to disturb.   

50  
Rogero still bare all her words as words,  
And sought by speech her to have pacified;  
But seeing that it needs must come to swords,  
And that with blows, not speeches she replied,  
No longer time to walking he affords,  
But to his weapon he himself applied,  
And being moved now with rightful anger,  
To save himself, he oft put her in danger.   

51  
But near did spectacle breed more delight,  

These two cities he names charsly because by means of the store of learned men, they had many notable devices presented on their stages and theatres.   
In stately Rome or Athens so well learned,  
Then Bradamant did take to see this fight,  
In which she now apparently discerned,  
That of their love she had not judged right;  
Now jealousy, and all that it concerned,  
Suspicion, fear, mistrust, and wrath, and franzie,  
Are of the sudden quite put from her fancy.   

52  
And taking up her sword she stands not far,  
With mind not yet awhile the fray to part,  
She thinks in him she sees the God of war,  
Such grace Rogero used, such skill such art:  
And other seemed in that unpleasant jar,  
Some hellish fury, (so she played her part)  
Yet true it is that he awhile forbore her,  
Nor did his worst, but did of purpose spare her.   

53  
He knew the secret virtue of his blade,  
Which he had tried in many battles well,  
That evermore a way and entrance made,  
Whose charm all charmed arms did far excel;  
Wherefore he doth not fiercely her invade.  
With bloody blows, nor fearful thrusts and full,  
But flatling still he cauld his blows to light,  
Till once he was of patience put out quite.   

54  
For once Marfisa, with intention shroud,  
Strake with such fury at Rogeros' beaver,  
That with that blow she very plainly showed,  
That to have killed him she did her endeavour,  
Rogero with his argent Eagle trowd,  
From danger of the stroke himself to sever,  
But though the shield broke not, gramercy charm,  
Yet underneath the shield it stound his arm.   

55  
It happy was Don Hector's shield was there,  
Else had she put him unto further pain,  
Scarce could he now the massy target bear,  
Scarce now the silver bird he could sustain:  
Now he intends no longer to forbear,  
But hurleth out a foyne with force so main,  
In rage with that late blow so fierce and bitter,  
Woe unto poor Marsisa, had it hit her.   

56  
I know not what good Angel did her keep,  
The thrust missed her, and in a tree it strake,  

The like in V●●gil of Polidorus. Germatum lectwymabulis vox cuditiar tumulu & vox redita sertur ad aures.   
And entered in the same a shastman deep,  
And on the sudden all the hill did quake:  
A secret horror on them all did creep,  
They see the hill, the trees and tomb to shake,  
Till from that sepulchre a voice proceeding,  
Spoke unto them, all human voice exceeding.   

57  
The voice to them with no small terror cried,  
File not your hands nor hearts with so great sin,  
It is a kind of cruel parricide,  
To seek to kill, and be so near of kin:  
Wherefore I charge you lay all hate aside,  
And mark my speech, and all contained therein,  
I say you both were gotten of one seed,  
One womb you bore, one breast you both did feed.   

58  
My dear Rogero, my Marfisa dear,  
Let not the sister seek to kill the brother,  
But learn of me some things that touch you near,  
Which former times in ignorance did smother;  
Your sire Rogero height, who that same year,  
He got you of dame Gallacell your mother,  
Was by your uncles of his life deprived,  
Who also your destruction thus contrived.   

59  
They put your mother in a steerlesse boat,  
Who was as then of you twain great with child,  
And in the Ocean wide they let her float,  
There to be starved or drowned in waters wild:  
But lo how fortune holp the luckless lot,  
And ere you yet were borne, upon you smiled,  
For why against all hope or expectation,  
Your mother made a happy navigation.   

60  
And being safe arrived at Syrtee shore,  
There at one burden she brought forth both you,  
And then (as if she ought this world no more)  
Her blessed soul to Paradise up flew;  
But there by hap (to God be thanks therefore)  
Was I at hand, and when the cause I knew,  
I did as much, ere I the place did leave,  
As such a barren soil would give me leave.   

61  
Your mother then in dust of earth I leapt,  
(Our ancient mother) whereto all must go, 
Sentence.   
And in my cloak your little selves I wrapped,  
To seek some means to nourish you, when lo,  
A Lioness that late had whelped there happed,  
To come in sight while I went to and fro,  
Her did I make to leave her proper whelps,  
And give you suck, then wanting other helps.   

62  
Ten months and ten in forests wild and moorish,  
The Lion's tets you used were to suck,  
I after learned with wild flesh you to nourish,  
Such as I could, of Bea●es, or Stag and Buck;  
But when you now began in strength to flourish,  
One day while I was lack, by evil luck,  
A band of fierce Arabians coming thither,  
Would have conveyed you both from thence together.   

63  
But thou Rogero when thou sawst them coming,  
Didst save thyself from that mishap by flight,  
But thou Marfisa, not so swiftly running,  
Wert ta'en, and quickly carried out of sight,  
To fetch thee back again I wanted cunning,  
For which I soride many day and night,  
But as the loss of tone did make me sad,  
So of the other greater care I had.   

64  
Ah my Rogero, thou thyself canst tell,  
If thine Atlanta loved thee while he lived,  
I saw the stars some evil haps foretell,  
That thou shouldst have which me not little grieved:  
Yet I endevord still, as thou know'st well,  
That by my means thou mightst have been relieved,  
But finding thee still contrary inchned,  
For very grief at last I died and pined.   

65  
But here I built this tomb afore I died,  
Where I foresaw you two should make this fray;  

〈◊〉 he whom 〈…〉   
And being dead, to Charon loud I cried,  
To suffer in this wood my ghost to stray,  
Until this fight, to me foresignified,  
Should happen, which was done this present day,  
Now shall my soul from hence depart in peace,  
Now Bradamant thy jealousy may cease.   

66  
Thus said the voice, and left them all amazed,  
With wonder great, and strangeness of the case,  
And when a while each had on other gazed,  
They met in kindest manner, and embrace;  
Nor Bradamant herself, who erst was crazed  
With jealousy, now took it in disgrace,  
To see her spouse, when he most kindly kissed her,  
Now well assured that she was his sister.   

67  
Thus they agreed at last, and either twin,  
Do call to mind some acts of childish years,  
What they had said and done, where they had been,  
Which e'en with tender heart did move their tears;  
At last the worthy brother doth begin  
To tell Marfisa what great love he bears  
To Bradamant, whom he to wed intends,  
And so at length he made them faithful friends.   

68  
Then all parts pacified so well at length,  
Marfisa doth entreat her noble brother,  
To tell to her the story more at length,  
Or that so strange exiling of her mother,  
And if their fire were slain by fraud or strength,  
And who it was that wrought the tone or tother,  
For sure (said she) I think I never heard it,  
Or childishness did make me not regard it.   

69  
Rogero tells her, how of Trojan race,  
From Hector they be lineally descended,  

〈◊〉, some 〈◊〉 was killed 〈◊〉 V●sse● of this 〈◊〉 the Story 〈◊〉 Allusion.   
By means Astyanax (of special grace,  
That scaped Viysses and the snares intended,  
Did leave a child of like years in his place)  
And from that country to the sea descended,  
And came to Sicill after travel long,  
And took Mesina, and grew very strong.   

70  
His offspring still increasing in renown,  
Calabria ruled in part, and thence to Phare,  

〈◊〉 called 〈…〉 of Mars.  And came at last to dwell in Mars his town,  
And many a noble Emperor and rare,  
In stately Rome have worn th'imperial crown,  
Of such as from this stock descended are,  
From Constance and from Constantine accounting,  
To Pepin and his son, them all surmounting.   

71  
Rogero first, and jambaron of these, 
In this narration my Author follows not any true story, but a work entitled Almose, which not withstanding has to some credits, though ●ot muc●.   
Rows, Rambaldus, and Rogero again,  
Of whom (as Atlant told) saved from the seas,  
Our mother by the shore brought forth us twain,  
Their acts in ancient stories they that please  
To look, may find them there recorded plain;  
Then tells he how there came king Agolant,  
With Almont, and the fire of Agramant.   

72  
How that King's daughter, a most noble maid,  
In feats of arms so valorous did prove,  
That divers Palladines she overlaid;  
And then with that Rogero fell in love,  
And of her father's anger not afraid,  
Did match in Christian state, as did behove,  
How after this one Beltram sought by treason,  
Incestuous love of her without all reason.   

73  
And for that cause his brothers and his sire,  
And his own native soil he did betray,  
And open Risa at his foes desire;  
Which being ta'en, and leizd on as a pray, 
Risa is a city of good importance in the country of Rb●gium, ●●are, mounts Appen●●r●.   
Fierce Agolant and his inflamed with ire,  
took Gallacell our mother where she lay,  
Six months with child, and put her in a boat,  
And in the Ocean wide they let her float.   

74  
Marfisa all this while with gladsome cheer,  
Unto her new known brother's tale attended,  
And in her mind rejoiced much to hear,  
That of so noble house she was descended,  
From which Mongrana came, as doth appear,  
And that of Clarimount so much commended,  
Which houses both, long in great fame had flourished,  
For divers noble persons they had nourished.   

75  
But when of Agramant she heard him say,  
How both his grandsire, uncle, and some other,  
Consented had their father to betray,  
And in so cruel sort to use their mother,  
She could not suffer any longer stay,  
But breaking off his tale, said noble brother,  
(With your good favour) you have too much wrong  
To leave your father unrevenged so long.   

76  
If not in Almont nor Traianos' blood,  
You can avenge this ill sith they be gone,  
Yet ought you to avenge it on their brood;  
Live you, and let you Agramant alone?  
This blot, except it quickly be withstood,  
Will shame you ever, if it once be known,  
That he that did this wrong not only liveth,  
But that to you he entertainment giveth.   

77  
But for my part (said she) by Christ I vow,  
(Whom as my father did, so serve I will)  
That I will not leave arms, till I know how  
To venge my fathers and my mother's ill;  
And much I shall lament, and do e'en now,  
If in that Pagan camp you tarry still,  
Or ever should be seen therein hereafter,  
Except it were to work their harm and slaughter.   

78  
Oh how did Bradamant at this rejoice,  
Advising him to follow that direction,  
And to give ear unto his sister's voice,  
To leave so vile a place, and base subjection,  
And cleave to Charles as to the better choice,  
Who gladly would receive him in protection,  
Of which (she said) one sure sign she did gather,  
She heard him often so extol his father.   

79  
Rogero answers thus with great regard,  
(My dear) to have done this at first I ought,  
But then indeed the troth I had not hard,  
Whereby I might my duty have been taught:  
Now sith that Agramant hath me preferred,  
If his destruction should by me be sought,  
That am his servant and a daily waitor,  
The world might justly deem I were a traitor.   

80  
But this my meaning was, and so it is,  
To find some means I may (with honour) part,  
Which when I have, then sure I will not miss,  
To come and to requite your great desert;  
And that (quoth he) I had performed ere this,  
Save that a cause (of which I felt the smart)  
Enforced my stay, the wounds the Tartar gave me,  
So as my friends had much to do to save me.   

81  
As she knows well that holp me at my need,  
And every day did sit by my bed's side:  
Thus much he said, but they that took good heed  
To all he said, in earnest sort replied,  
Howbeit at the last it was agreed,  
That he so long with Agramant should bide,  
Till he some honourable cause might find,  
To leave his master and to change his mind.   

82  
Well (quoth Marfisa) if he needs will go,  
Then let him go, but I will you assure,  
That shortly I will use the matter so,  
He shall not long with Agramant endure:  
This said she unto Bradamant, but though  
She told not how she would the same procure:  
Thus for that time Rogero broke this parley,  
And turned his horse to turn again to Arlie.   

83  
When lo they chanced a sudden cry to hear,  
Proceeding from the next adjoining vale,  
The voice did seem, when they approached near,  
To be some damsels that for help did call:  
But who it was, hereafter you shall hear,  
For now of force I must cut off my tale,  
And pray you my abruptness to excuse,  
For in the next you shall hear further news.   
In the beginning of this Canto, he speaks against cruelty, 
Moral.  the most unnoble thing that can be used in peace or war: for though war of itself is and must needs be bloody in the heat thereof, yet hath it ever been detested and contrary to all warlike discipline, to kill those that have no weapon in hand. Wherefore noble Princes will ever make fair wars, as Pirthus said in Ennius: 
Quorum virtuti belli fortuna pepercit:  
Horundem me libertati parcere certum est.  
Whose life the fortune of the wars doth save,  
Frankly I grant that they their freedom have.   
Cruelty ever proceeds from a vile mind, and often from a cowardly heart, that have nothing in their minds nor mouths but Mortui non mordent, which beside it is unchristen, is also false: for the Scripture saith, The blood of Abel cried for vengeance; and it is a better approved proverb in England, blood will have blood.  
In Bradamant we further note the bad effects of jealousy. In Rogero, that after his long forbearance, at last thought to be revenged on Marfisa, we may see that Laesa patientia fit furor: Patience provoked turns to fury.  

History.  Cantelmus whose death he so much bewailed, was taken in an ambushment by the Venetian army, having very courageously sallied cut (though iovius writes it was against his will) with another companion of his, who scaped very hardly. Cantelmus had his head chopped off on the side of a galley in sight of his father, against which cruelty Ariosto justly inveigheth. Astyanax son of Hector (as the most credible authors write) was thrown down from a high tower by Ulysses, who in his bloody policy thought good that none of the race of Priamus should be left alive: but my author here, by Poetical licence (for I know no historical ground of it) saith that he was saved, and a boy put in his steed; and that thence (forsooth) are descended many houses of great account. But this is not credible, and the precedent thereof is perilous, as I will show in the Allusion.  

Allegory.  By atlant parting the fray between the brother and sister, we may in Allegorical sense understand, that when divers that are near of kin fall at variance, there is nothing so available for reconciling of them, as the memory of some of their worthy ancestors, which in well disposed minds will stir a great reverence, and be a strong motive unto them to give over their unnatural contentions.  

Allusion.  Concerning the saving of Astyanax, it puts me in mind of one or two perilous examples recorded in our Chronicles, of the like device of one Perkin Warbeck, who feigned himself to be Richard the younger son of Edward the fourth, that was murdered in the Tower. But what a trouble grew by that puppet for a time, may there be seen, which the Chronicles set out very largely.  
Here end the annotations upon the xxxuj book.   

  

THE XXXVII. BOOK  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Rogero with his sister and his spouse,  
Find Vllanie half stripped and strangely used,  
Strait each of them, but chief Marfisa vows  
To be anenged on him that her misused:  
She hears the law that women none allows;  
She finds the man that hath the sex refused:  
She plagues the tyrant, for his proud behaviour,  
And makes another law in women's favour.  

1  
IF worthy Ladies would but take such pain,  

The praise of 〈◊〉.  In studies that immortal glory raise,  
As they do often take in matters vain,  
Deserving none at all, or little praise,  
Which notwithstanding that they might obtain,  
They have employed many nights and days;  
To have thereby some trifling want supplied,  
That niggard nature had to them denied.   

2  
And further, if they could with their own pen,  
Set forth the worthy praise of their own kind,  
And not to be beholding unto men,  
Whom hate and envy often so doth blind,  
To make us hear the good but now and then,  
But every place full of their ill we find;  
Then sure I judge, their praises would be such,  
As hardly men should have attained so much.   

3  
For many writers do not only strive,  
Too highly to extol our sex's fame.  
But that they think they must withal contrive,  
To publish women's blemish and their blame;  
As fearing haply, lest they might arrive,  
By their most due desert, to greater name;  
And so they might thereby obscure our praise,  
As doth a cloud the suns bright shining rays.   

4  
But yet, for all such sparing pens do write,  
Or lavish tongue's can speak in their disgrace,  
Enforcing every ill report for spite,  
That may their credit's slander and deface,  
We still shall find their glory shining bright,  
We still shall see, it keeps a worthy place,  
Though wanting of that height the greater part,  
To which it should attain to by desert.   

5  
Harpalicé and Thomeris beside, 
L●●ke 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉.   
With those that Turnus did and Hector aid,  
Besides that dame that in an Ox's hide,  
The first foundation of fair Carthage laid,  
Zenobia eke, and she that quailed the pride  
Of Assur, and both Ind and Persia frayed:  
I say there have been many more than these,  
That have been famous both by land and seas.   

6  
Nor only Rome and Greece have bred such store,  
Of faithful matrons, chaste, and stout, and wise,  
But all the world beside, some less, some more,  
From whence it sets, to where the Sun doth rise:  
Though now their names obscured are so sore,  
That few or none are laid before our eyes:  
And all because that they in those days wrote,  
Were envious, and false, and full of hate.   

7  
Yet cease not Ladies, ye that virtue love,  
To follow that your course, and so good way,  
And let not fear your minds from it remove,  
That your great fame hereafter may decay;  
For true it is, 
〈◊〉  as we do daily prove,  
No good nor ill can still stand at a stay;  
Though writers in time past were not your friends,  
The present time shall make you large amends.   

8  
The worthy writers of this present time,  
Have set your worthy praises so to view,  
Some in grave prose, and some in learned time,  
As none shall need this want hereafter rue:  
And though they were infected with this crime,  
Yet in this age, so learned are some of you,  
So well acquainted with the noble muses,  
You could yourselves remedy such abuses.   

9  
And if I should recite the names of those,  
That by the writers of our times are praised,  
Or that themselves have wrote in verse or prose,  
And have their own and others glory raised,  
As I might please some few, so I suppose,  
I might be blamed of others, and dispraised,  
Or in omitting some, to do them wrong,  
Or reckoning all, too tedious wax and long.   

10  
Shall I then all omit? that were not well,  
Sith that to please them all I do desire:  
Then will I choose some one, that doth excel  
The rest so far, as none may dare envy her;  
Whose name doth in such height of honour dwell,  
As hard it is, for any to come nigh her,  
Whose learned pen such privilegde can give,  
As it can make e'en those are dead to live.   

11  
For e'en as Phoebus shines on every star,  
Yet on his sister casts his fairest light,  
So eloquence and grace ay shining are,  
Much more on her, than any other wight,  
And maketh her to pass the rest as far,  
As Phebé doth the other stars in night,  
Her light so splendent is, and so divine,  
As makes another Sun on earth to shine.   

12  

〈◊〉 in the 〈◊〉.  Victoria is her name, a most fit name,  
For one in triumphs borne, in triumphs bred,  
That passeth Artimesia in the fame  
Of doing honour to her husband ded;  
For though she did erect a wondrous frame,  
For her Mausoleo, with a Py●amed,  
Yet which is more? to lay the dead in grave,  
Or else from death, with learned pen to save?   

13  
If Laodame, and if Brutus wife,  
Argia, Arria, and Euadne chaste,  
Be to be praised, as they are so rise,  
Because when as their husband's days were passed,  
They willingly forsook this mortal life:  
Then in what height must she of right be placed?  
That such a gift unto her spouse doth give,  
That being dead, she still doth make him live.   

14  

〈◊〉 e●ui 〈◊〉 Achilles, be●●se be had such 〈◊〉 asset of 〈◊〉.  And if the great Macedon envy bare,  
Unto Achilles, for Meonian Lyre,  
Much more to noble Francis of Pescare,  
He would have borne, whose praise is sounded hire;  
By such a wise, so virtuous, chaste, and rare  
As e'en thy soul itself could not desire,  
A louder trump thy praises out to sound,  
Sith hardly can a match to this be found.   

15  
But to conclude both these and others praise,  
That I may follow on my present story,  
I say that both in these and former days,  
Fair dames have merited great fame and glory;  
Which though by writers envy much decays,  
Yet need you not therefore now to be sorry,  
Because amongst us all it is intended,  
That this foul fault hereafter shallbe mended.   

16  
Now of Marfisa and of Bradamant,  
I mean to tell, that still were so victorious,  
As both my voice too faint, and skill too scant  
Would be, to count their famous deeds & glorious;  
Yet shall good will so far supply my want,  
As I will reckon those were most notorious,  
And were my might agreeing to my mind,  
I would deserve as well of all their kind.   

17  
If you remember, I declared erst,  
How good Rogero purposed to return,  
And how he heard the sound I then rehearsed,  
Of some that seemed woefully to mourn;  
Which wailing so his mind with pity pierced,  
As he a while his journey did adjourn,  
Both that to know the parties he desired,  
And meant to succour them, if cause required.   

18  
With him those dames the noble cousins went, 
He makes them cousins though v●ry far of, which we count indeed the noblest tinred, though not the kindest.   
And when they nearer came unto the place,  
They saw three damsels woefully lament,  
Apparelled strangely and in sorry case,  
Their clothing all, had been clipped of and rend,  
up to their navels, to their foul disgrace,  
They sitting on the ground and durst not rise,  
To hide their secret parts from strangers eyes.   

19  
As Vulcan's son (by Pallas appointment nursed) 
Ericthonian son of Vulcan, devised a coach to Ind 〈◊〉 redlegges which were like surpā●●. Aglaurs look the Table.   
Whom (without mother) got of earth he had,  
(For whom Aglaur was plagued, because she durst,  
Look on him when the Goddess had forbade)  
Sat in a coach (by him devised surst)  
To hide his legs, that were deformed and bad:  
So sat the woeful maids their secrets hiding,  
Scarce from the ground, to lift their looks abiding.   

20  
The foul prospect, did with great wrath inflame,  
The worthy dames when they did plain it view, 
Peslus gardens are at a Castle so called in Luca●●s, and bear ros●s 〈◊〉 ini●● year.   
And in the maids behalves, they blushed for shame,  
As do in Peslus gardens roses new:  
But Bradamant, when as more near she came,  
Was grieved more, for one of them she knew,  
Whose name was Vllanie, that since a while,  
Was unto France sent from the Island I'll.   

21  
She also knew both tother in effect,  
For she had met them trau'ling on that cost,  
But yet her speech she chiefly did direct,  
To Vllan●, whom she regarded most;  
And asked her what vile wight did so neglect  
All law, and had all human nature lost,  
As that without remorse he could abide,  
To leave that bare, that nature seeks to hide?   

22  
Poor Villainy, that both by speech and sight,  
The worthy damsel Bradamant did know,  
To be a Lady, whom she saw last night,  
To give three Princes such an overthrow;  
When first a while she sobbed had and sight,  
The manner and the matter plain doth show,  
How people near that place, did ill entreat them,  
And clip their clothes, and also whip and beat them   

23  
Fast by (said she) the Castle you may see,  
Where they do keep, that us so ill did use,  
As for the shield of gold and Princes three,  
That came to win it, she could tell no news:  
We only meant to trudge on foot (said shé)  
To make complaint of those did us abuse,  
Unto the noble Christian Emperor Charles,  
Who punish will I trust such lawless castles.   

24  
Brave Bradamant and stout Marfisa longs,  
To go immediately unto this place,  
And be avenged on such enormous wrongs,  
Done as they deem, to all the sex disgrace:  
Rogero eke, that knows well what belongs,  
Unto the law of knight hood, in such case,  
(To succour all that are by wrong oppressed,  
But chiefly women) goes without request.   

25  

Look in the Alligorie of the application of 〈◊〉.  With one consent, they all put off their bases,  
Which served the maidens very fit to hide,  
The secret parts, of those same privy places,  
That modesty to show cannot abide.  
Then Bradamant strait way behind her places,  
Fair Villainy, and makes her so to ride,  
Marfisa and Rogero take the pain,  
Behind themselves, to place the other twain.   

26  

Here begins the tale of Marganor that made the law against women.  The dame of Dordon led them all the way,  
The tother two do follow with great haste,  
But Villainy showed where the Castle lay,  
To which they many a hill and valley past.  
But now so much was spent of that same day,  
That they were quite benighted at the last,  
At night to take a village they were glad,  
Where they good meat, good drink, good lodging had.   

27  
But when to look about them they began,  
They none could see but women in the place,  
The women dr●st, brought all, and not a man,  
In all the village that did show his face:  
Among themselves they on the matter scan,  
And much they mused at so strange a case,  
Among so many, fair, foul, young, and old,  
As there they saw, not one man to behold.   

28  
I think that jason never marvelled more, 
jasons men were called Argonaus●, because they ●ost in a ship called Argo.   
Nor those his Argonauts, that with him came,  
Then when they first arrived at Lemnos shore,  
Where they found none but women void of shame,  
That had their sires, and brethren slain before,  
And did a common wealth of women frame:  
Then did Rogero with the Ladies wonder,  
To see no men, but women such a number.   

29  
Wherefore (when first they had in seemly sort,  
Provided raiment for the damsels three,  
If not so sumptuous, certes not so short,  
But to conceal that which men should not see)  
Then they desired some dweller there, report  
To them, what might the cause and reason be,  
Why in this town there were allowed no men,  
And in this sort the woman answered then.   

30  
This order at the which you seem to wonder,  
Was by a tyrant pointed for our pain,  
A tyrant, whose subjection we are under,  
Who by his proclamation doth ordain,  
From mother's sons, from husband's wives to sunder;  
And in such hard exile we must remain,  
And suffer not by merit, but by force,  
From our dear spouses, such a long divorce.   

31  
Thrice have the trees with winter been deleaved,  
Since we have been into this place confined,  
Of husbands, fathers, and of sons bereaved,  
So sore the tyrant hateth all our kind;  
And if that any chance to be perceived,  
(As some perhaps there be, that are so kind)  
To come but once to look upon his wife,  
The man and woman both, shall lose their life.   

32  
The lawless wretch, that makes this cruel law,  
Dwells two leagues hence, and is of such behaviour,  
As from his purpose no man can him draw,  
How much so ever he be in his favour;  
He doth all women from his land withdraw,  
As if he were infected with their savour,  
He is so fierce, so sturdy, and so strong,  
That none dare once protect, whom he will wrong,   

33  
And which is strange, he useth stranger's worst,  
If any happen to his house arrive,  
(It seems he hath of women's blood some thirst)  
For though he let them part from thence alive,  
Yet first with whipping, and with usage cursed,  
He doth their torment, and reproach contrive:  
Wherefore if you your safeties do regard,  
I wish you not to travel thitherward.   

34  
At this Marfisa and the Dordon dame,  
Were much incensed, and did desire to know,  
How he was called, and whence his fury came,  
That made him first to such a madness grow:  
The woman maketh answer thus, his name  
Is Marganor, and if you please I'll show  
The whole discourse: to this they all agreed,  
And she then on her tale, did thus proceed.   

35  
This Marganor, that makes full many weep,  
Was bloody from his buth by disposition,  
But yet a while he did dislemble deep,  
That of the same there was but some suspicion;  
His sons did make him it the closer keep,  
Because they were of contrary condition,  
Both bounteous, frank, & courteous, of good quality,  
Of stranger's lovers and of hospitality.   

36  
Fair dames and knights that happed to pass this way,  
Were still by them so friendly entertained,  
That by such kind of courteous usage, they  
The love and praise of every one had gained;  
Their honours also farther to display,  
The sacred right of knighthood they obtained;  
Both stout, both strong, comely and of good stature,  
Not wanting ornaments of art or nature.   

37  
Cylandro and Tanacro named they are,  
And long they lived with no dishonour stained,  
And longer had, if they had been so ware,  
As not in Cupid's snares to have been trained;  
This foolish passion foiled all their welfare,  
The passion men call love, this them constrained,  
To change the worthy course they had begun,  
And do that by the which they were undone.   

38  
It happened that there thither came a knight,  
Belonging to this Emperor of Greece,  
Who brought with him a Lady fair and bright,  
Of good behaviour, and a lovely piece,  
With whom Cylandro fell in love that night,  
And fully bend of her to have a fleece,  
He thought her beauty so possessed his hart,  
That he should surely die, if she depart.   

39  
And, for he deemed it labour lost to pray,  
To open force he doth himself dispose,  
And secretly all armed, unto the way  
Where other needs must pass, afore he goes,  
And seeing him he would no longer stay,  
But trusting to his manhood, comes to blows,  
Not seeking vantage, but with lance to lance,  
He minds to try of fight the doubtful chance.   

40  
Not thinking though but with his sure running,  
To beat him down, and bear away his wife,  
But this same knight, that in this art was cunning,  
Did pierce his shield, and rest him of his life:  
The news hereof unto his father coming,  
Filled all the court with plaints and sorrows rife;  
At last, when long the time had been deferred,  
By his great ancestors they him inte●ed,   

41  
Nor did this foul mishap and ill success,  
Make Marganor to minish aught his port,  
Tanacro still did courtesy profess,  
To strangers all, and used them in good sort:  
But lo, it chanced within a year and less,  
A noble Baron thither did resort,  
A comely man of parsonage to see,  
With him a Lady fair as fair might be.   

42  
And to her beauty her behaviour fitted,  
Her looks are modest, manners sober are,  
Her words are ware, and show her sharply witted;  
Likewise her Lord, himself most comely bare,  
As fit to whom the charge should be committed,  
Of one in shape and qualities so rare:  
He height Olindro, Lord of Longavilla,  
The lovely Lady named was Drusilla.   

43  
No less Tenacro doted on this Dame,  
Then had his brother done on that before,  
But that foul end to which his brother came,  
Made him more wary, though not honest more;  
By former good report that bred him fame,  
And all his passed praise, he sets no store:  
Be fame, be virtue trodden in the dust,  
So he may but fulfil his present lust.   

44  
Thus caring only to avoid the danger,  
In which he saw before his brother died,  
He secretly that night waylaid the stranger,  
There as he knew next day he needs must ride,  
Not meaning his own person to endanger;  
In fine, the Baron that to save his bride,  
Did stoutly give and take full many a wound,  
At last they left foul murdered on the ground.   

45  
Drusilla seeing her dear Olindro ded,  
In deadly sound unto the ground she sank,  
But thence in courteous sort the men her led,  
Whom to have killed her, she would give more thank:  
But grief in her such will to die had bred,  
That wilfully she leapt down from a bank,  
To kill herself, but poor soul could not die,  
But all her head and face was brusd thereby.   

46  
Tanacro gets some surgeons and Physicians,  
To look unto her health, and hurts to cure,  
He causeth her to hear most rare musicians,  
To cheer her heart, and solace to procure:  
He makes great brags of her so chaste conditions,  
With mind by marriage to make her sure;  
He thinks a woman of so virtuous life,  
Must not be termed a leman, but a wife.   

47  
To marry her he inwardly intends,  
This outwardly in show he doth make known,  
And evermore he highly her commends;  
And though her grief was by his doings grown,  
He saith he will for this make large amends,  
And that he will her love, and be her own:  
But still the more that on that point he grateth,  
The more in heart she him detests and hateth.   

48  
But yet her hate did not so blind her wit,  
But that to keep it close she took good heed;  
She knew full well she must dissemble it,  
If she will be revenged of him indeed:  
Wherefore until the time may serve her fit,  
She seems unto his meaning half agreed,  
And did in show the same so smoothly carry,  
That lastly the consented him to matrie.   

49  
Sweet peace and love were written in her eyes,  
Revenge and hate were in her heart engraved,  
To kill him, in her thought she doth devise,  
When with most kindness she herself behaved:  
He needs must die, needs die in any wise,  
But e'en thus long to live of God she craved:  
How can I better end my life (she seth)  
Then in revenging my dear husband's death?   

50  
Thus seeming to forget all former wrong,  
She cheerfully expects the wedding day,  
As though that she did for this marriage long,  
And so she did, although another way,  
She shortens all that might the time prolong,  
And paints herself, and tricks her trim and gay:  
She only craved thus much for Christ his passion,  
She might be married of her country fashion.   

51  
Not that her speech herein indeed was true,  
That such the custom was as she pretended,  
But she doth mind to forge a custom new,  
With trust assuredly to be revenged  
On him, that her beloved husband slew;  
Revenge, revenge was all that she intended:  
She pray'th, she might observe her country guise,  
Which in this sort, she doth to them devise.   

52  
The widow that to marry new intends,  
According as our country law allows,  
Must first appease the ghost whom she offends,  
I mean (saith she) that of her former spouse,  
And make unto his spirit some amends,  
By Dirges, trentals, masles, prayers, and vows,  
In that same Church, whereas his bones be resting,  
Then may she marry new, without molesting.   

53  
But when of her new spouse she takes the ring,  
The Priest in sight of all that stand about,  
Of hallowd wine a bottle than must bring,  
And in the Chalice he must power it out;  
Then over it he must both say and sing,  
Effectual prayers, and Psalms, and hymns devout,  
Then must the woman take it of the Vicker,  
And drink unto her spouse the blessed licker.   

54  
Tanacro liketh well of this her motion,  
Respecting little how much it imported,  
To let her marry with so strange devotion,  
He only wished to have the season shorted;  
And not mistrusting that same hallowd potion,  
To cut of all delays he her exhorted,  
Each makes like haste, though sundry in construction,  
He to her wedding, she to his destruction.   

55  
Among her women servants that were there,  
Drusilla had one old ilfavord trot,  
She calleth her, and bade her in her ear,  
That some strong sudden poison may be got,  
You know (said the) to get it, how and where,  
Convey it safe into some pretty pot,  
For I (quoth she) have found the way and skill,  
The wicked son of Marganor to kill.   

56  
And doubt not, I know how to save us both,  
As I will let thee know at better leisure,  
The woman doth the feat though seeming loath,  
Save only that it was her mistress pleasure:  
Then for a cup of Candie wine she goth,  
And mingles this and that in so due measure,  
As made it with but little alteration,  
Not sour in taste, yet sure in operation.   

57  
Now came Drusilla on the wedding day,  
With gorgeous gowns and costly jewels decked,  
There where Olindros' corpse entombed lay,  
Raised high on columns as she did direct:  
The Priest began the solemn Mass to say,  
To which came great resort, without suspect,  
And Marganor himself now most contenting,  
Came with his son and friends the place frequenting.   

58  
When all the solemn rites to end were brought,  
Then in a cup of massy gold and fine,  
The Priest powered out, as she before had taught,  
The cursed poison, with the blessed wine;  
She soberly drinks a convenient draft,  
Enough to do the feat she did design,  
Then to Tanacro with a lovely cheer,  
She gave it, who supped up the chalice clear.   

59  
And rendering then the chalice to the Frire,  
He thought in open arms her to embrace.  
But then she suddenly began retire,  
Then her sweet looks, and words so full of grace,  
Were gone, her eyes did seem to flame like fire,  
Then wrath and spite were written in her face,  
She cries with grisly look, and voice unpleasant,  
Avaunt, and touch not me thou traitor peasant.   

60  
Thoughtst thou of me solace to have and sport,  

Dr●sillas 〈◊〉 at h●● death.  And bring me cause of torment, tears, and woe,  
No, now I trow that I have cut thee short,  
That drink was poison, if you do not know:  
But ah this death is of too gentle sort,  
And I too noble hangman am I trow,  
A hangman ought with halter stop thy breath,  
This was for thee, too honourable death.   

61  
My only sorrow is that ere I died,  
My sacrifice was not in full perfection,  
And that thy wicked sire and more beside,  
Did not with thee, taste of that strong confection:  
But pardon me (my dear dead spouse) she cried,  
If I have failed for fault of good direction,  
If I perhaps have not done all I should do,  
Yet sure I have performed all I could do.   

62  
And look what I do want in all or part,  
In working him torture condign, and shame,  
I hope the world to come, with greater smart,  
Will pay it him, and I shall see the same,  
Thus much she said, and then with cheerful hart,  
Still calling on her former spouses' name,  
Take here in worth (said she) this sacrifice,  
That thy poor wife did for thy sake devise.   

63  
And of our Lord for me a place obtain,  
In Paradise, with thy most blessed spirit,  
And if he say that none must there remain,  
But they that by good works the same inherit;  
Tell him I have a cruel tyrant slain,  
Of tyrant's death I bring with me the merit;  
To kill a tyrant, what can be more glorious,  
Or in the sight of God more meritorious?   

64  

〈◊〉 the death 〈…〉.  Thus much she said, and fell dead therewithal,  
And being dead, she kept a cheerful look,  
And sure to her the comfort was not small,  
That for her spouse so sharp revenge she took.  
I know not if Tanacro in his fall,  
Did follow her, or else her overtook,  
He overtook her sure, as may be thought,  
That drank the bottom, and the greater draft.   

65  
Fallen Marganor that heard his sons last groan,  
And seeing him lie dead past all relief,  
Made at the first so great and grievous moan,  
As though he would have died of very grief:  
Two sons he had of late, now hath he none,  
Two women had hereof been causes chief,  
One moved the first to hazard life, the tother  
With her own hands gave poison to his brother.   

66  
Love, pity, grief, disdain, and hate, and wrath,  
Desire of death and of revenge together,  
The doleful parent so enraged hath,  
Like to the roaring seas in foulest wether:  
Feign to Drusilla he would do some scathe,  
But she was dead before, yet goes he thither,  
As blinded hate did him still forward prick,  
He seeks to harm the corpse that was not quick.   

67  

sword"  e'en as a snake whom speate to ground doth nail,  
Doth bite the steel and wood that sense hath none,  
Or as a dog that doth a man asfaile,  
If one do fling at him a stick or stone,  
Doth run and bite the same without avail,  
Till he that hurled it is past and gone:  
So Marganor more fierce than dog or snake,  
Seeks on the senseless corpse revenge to take.   

68  
And when that harrying it, and all to tearing,  
Could not in any part his wrath assuage,  
e'en in the Church on us, no such thing fearing,  
He draws his sword, and in his senseless rage,  
Doth hew and mangle women, none forbearing,  
For dignity, for beauty, nor for age;  
While we cried out, and at his fury wondered,  
He thirty killed, and hurt and maimed an hundred.   

69  
So sorely of his people he is dreaded,  
That no man dare against his acts oppose him,  
Unto his will he is so firmly wedded,  
That for the time stark mad ye would suppose him;  
Who would reform him, hanged shall be & headed,  
For guerdon of his pain, when once he knows him:  

〈…〉.  His servants do, as doth the proverb say,  
When fury runs, le's fury have her sway.   

70  
But when at last himself was almost tired  
With killing us, though void of all remorse,  
Then by his friends request he was desired,  
And as it were constrained by honest force;  
And to his castle he himself retired,  
Appointing there this law of our divorce,  
And clemency forsooth he doth it call,  
In that he did forbear to kill us all.   

71  
Thus whether they obeyed or else repined,  
Men are from wives, babes from their dames divided,  
And hither all the women be confined;  
This town of purpose is for us provided,  
Where if that any man to love inclined,  
And by a good and kind affection guided,  
Come but to see his wife, and thereby show it,  
Woe be to him if Marganor may know it.   

72  
And worse than this, 
Marganors law against woman.  he hath ordained an order,  
Such one I think was never heard before,  
All women that are ta'en within his border,  
Must first be whipped with rods till they be sore,  
And then he doth their vestments disorder,  
By clipping them behind and eke before;  
And so away he sendeth them half stripped,  
When first they have been beaten well and whipped.   

73  
And if that any hope to have assistance,  
Or bring some knights them to defend and save,  
Forthwith he killeth them and their assistants,  
As sacrifices on his children's grave:  
So as no hope there is to make resistance,  
For evermore he if he list can have  
At his command, of men a mighty power,  
By name one thousand e'en within an hour.   

74  
And further all men in his realm he takes,  
By either fair persuasions or by fear,  
Upon the Sacrament to swear he makes,  
That ay they shall to women hatred bear.  
Now for your own and these fair Lady's sakes,  
judge you if you have reason to forbear,  
Unto his castle nearer to approach,  
Except you will be shamed with foul reproach.   

75  
This tale so much did move the warriors three,  
With pity first, and then with high disdain,  
That save it was so dark they could not see,  
They would have gone e'en then him to have slain:  
Now for that night they rest, but they decree,  
So soon as Phoebus should return again,  
To arm themselves, and boldly to adventure,  
Upon the tyrants hold by force to enter.   

76  
Now as they were about their horse to take.  
They saw before them at the mountains root,  
Some twenty men, that no great haste did make,  
But some on horseback were, and some on foot,  
All armed, these three them soon did overtake,  
Before they full had rode an arrow shoot,  
And then they saw how they did bear by force,  
An aged beldame on a sumpter horse.   

77  
This was forsooth Drusillas' chamber maid,  
That to her mistress that same poison gave,  
And being then mistrustful and afraid,  
What strange effect it fortune might to have,  
Upon the wedding day from Church she stayed,  
And so by secret flight herself did save,  
And kept herself three years from law and trial,  
Till Marganor had found her by espial.   

78  
What cannot gain and hope of money work? 
Sentence.   
First by his coin he learned where she lay,  
Then with his coin he set these men a work,  
Who in this sort did fetch her thence away,  
And of a Lord (in whose land she did lurk,  
With promise that she safely there should stay)  
With coin of that same Baron her he bought;  
Ah noble men, can nobles make you nought?   

79  
Look how the great and stately stream of Poe, 
〈◊〉.   
The nearer he unto the sea descends,  
When Lambra, Tycin, Adda, with some more,  
Fall into him, and their due tribute sends,  
The broader and the deeper still doth grow:  
●u'nso the more that Marganor offends,  
The greater will in these three champions breeds,  
To be avenged on so vile misdeeds.   

80  
Yet first to free this woman they intent,  
Who else (at least) should have been hanged in chains,  
Strait on those lowts all three their forces bend,  
They couch their spears, and slack their horses reins:  
An host of men could scarce such force defend;  
Much less a sort of dastard hireling twaines:  
Wherefore they cast away then warlike tools,  
Their carriage left, and went away like fools.   

81  
e'en as a greedy wolf that runneth laden 
Simile.   
With his desired prey unto his den,  
That finds unwares the way to him forboden,  
By hunting dogs, or by the hunting men,  
Hurls down his prey, and by the paths untrodden  
Doth she for life; so did these cullions then,  
Not only that their prisoner enlarge,  
But leave their horses and their other charge.   

82  
Some, others force, some their own fear unhorses,  
By means whereof they did at ease provide,  
For those three damsels good convenient horses,  
That yesterday behind them three did ride:  
Also Rogero that old trot enforces,  
(Though she in vain refused and denied)  
To go with them, lamenting sore and wailing,  
But all her lamentation nought availing.   

83  
Now were they come unto the town at length,  
About the which there was no ditch nor wall,  
Yet were the houses built in breadth and length  
Both orderly and very strong withal;  
A castle in the midst of mighty strength,  
Stood on a rock that ouerlookt them all:  
To this they march with great desire and longing,  
Because it was to Marganor belonging.   

84  
Within this town no sooner set they feet,  
But that the guard that kept the watch, began  
Behind them step, and chained fast the street:  
Some others, with the greatest haste they can,  
Called Marganor, that strait came them to meet,  
With guard of many a tall and sturdy man,  
Who with a speech but short, yet full of pride,  
The lewd law of his City signifide.   

85  
Marfisa who before band had agreed, 
sword"   
Upon the matter with the other two,  
Sets spurs to horse, and galloping in steed  
Of making answer, makes no more ado,  
But being of her person strong indeed,  
Employing neither lance nor sword thereto,  
With bended fist she gives him such a box,  
As stonid him, and would have field an ox.   

86  
Nor doth Rogero, nor the dame of France,  
Grant to the others any time of ease,  
But chief the damsel that with goldelance,  
Doth throw to ground as many as she please;  
No man there was that durst himself advance,  
To stand unto the shock with one of these;  
Rogero seven, she threw down seven times seven,  
e'en as if thunder had fallen down from heaven.   

87  
The hurtless people to their houses fled,  
The heartless soldiers followed them as fast,  
None stayed behind but those were maimed or dead,  
And Marganor alone was left at last,  
And by Marfisa now is captive led,  
Who (with his arms behind him pinioned fast)  
Gave him Drusillas' maid to be tormented,  
And would have burnt the town, had they consented.   

88  
But all consent the law to abrogate,  
The people easily were won thereto,  
And to accept one of another rate,  
Which there was ratified with small ado,  
His law and him they did detest and hate,  
Yet as him list they were content to do,  
As still we see the foolish common use, 
〈◊〉.   
Obey him best that doth them most abuse.   

89  
And why, they dare not one another trust,  
Nor tell to one another their complaints,  
They let him kill and banish whom he lust;  
Ones goods he takes, another's house he taints,  
The silent soul yet cries for vengeance just  
Unto the mighty God and to his Saints,  
Who though they seem in punishing but slow,  
Yet pay they home at last, with heave and how.   

90  
So now these silly souls inflamed with ire,  
With speech and deeds do make their stomachs known,  
And (as the proverb saith) each man bears fire,  
To burn the tree the wind hath overthrown.  
Ye Princes that to tyrannize desire,  
Mark this man's end, and make his case your own,  
Believe it well, that God doth ever send  
Unto a wicked life a wretched end.   

91  
Out came the young and old, the great and small,  
In words and works to do him great disgrace:  
He that so terrible was erst to all,  
Is now despised of all (a wondrous case)  
Yea those three warriors had ado not small,  
To keep him now from killing in the place;  
Not that they cared to have his life preserved,  
But unto greater pains they him reserved.   

92  
They gave him bound unto that woman aged,  
That erst upon Drusilla did attend,  
And to those three, whose, minds were yet enraged,  
Whom whipped and stripped he lately thence did send;  
These with sharp goads and knives his body gauged,  
And to torment him, all their wits did bend,  
Now some cast stones, and some with needle's prick him,  
Some scratch, some bite, with feet some spurn & kick him.   

93  
e'en as a brook new swollen with rage of rain,  
Or with a sudden thaw of melting snow,  
Ort bears down rocks and trees with force so main,  
As herds do'h drown and houses overthrow,  
A drought doth come, and then that brook again  
Abates his pride, and is at last so low,  
A woman, yea a child with small ado,  
May pass the same, and never wet their shoe.   

94  
So Marganor that erst in pomp and pride,  
Made hearts of men to quake when he was named,  
To lowest ebb now turned sees his tide,  
His comb now cut, his fury now is tamed;  
Now kennel-rakers scorn him, and deride,  
To look men in the face he is ashamed,  
Small children, yea the babes, be not afteard,  
To pill away his hair from head and beard.   

95  
The while Rogero with those champions twain,  
The castle summoned that did gladly yield,  
Here Vllanie recovered again,  
Which lately she had lost, her golden shield:  
Here met they those three kings, which to their pain  
Dame Bradamant had twice ou'rthrowne in field,  
At the same castle, where before I told  
She won their lodging, and made them lie cold.   

96  
Since which, on foot unarmed they vowed to go,  
Which want, fair Vllanie from death did save,  
For all that went with armed men guarded so,  
Were sacrificed on Tanacros grave;  
Yet better of the twain it was to show,  
The parts that modesty concealed would have,  
For why both this and every other shame, 
〈◊〉.   
Is half excused, if force procure the same.   

97  
Marfisa strait a Parliament did call 
Mafisas' law for women.   
Of all the town, and made them take an oath,  
Of high and low, rich, poor, and great and small,  
Although they were content, or else were loath,  
That to their wives they should be subject all;  
That in their houses and the City both,  
The women should have rule, such power, such graces,  
As men are wont to have in other places.   

98  
She further made this notable decree,  
That lodging, meat and drink should be forbade  
To travelers, of whatsoe'er degree,  
Admit they go on foot, or that they road,  
(Within that town) except they first agree  
To swear by some great Saint, or else by God,  
That they should evermore be women's friends,  
And foe unto their foes to their lives ends.   

99  
And whatsoever stranger there arrives,  
Must further swear, before they go their way,  
If, or they have, or mean to marry wives,  
That evermore they shall their wills obey:  
This must they keep on peril of their lives,  
For why she vows to come ere twelvemonth's day,  
And if she find her law broke in that City,  
To lack and burn the same without all pity.   

100  
This done, the warriors three did hasten hence,  
But yet their going they so long deferred,  
Until Drusillas' corpse was ta'en from thence,  
Where (as it seemed) it was but homely berred,  
And order ta'en, with cost and good expense,  
Her spouse and she might nobly be interred,  
With Epitaphs, by which was signified,  
In how great honour they both lived and died.   

101  
Marfisa made her law in marble fair,  
Upon a pillar to be written down,  
And then Rogero with the warlike pair  
Of damsels, took their leaves of all the town:  
But Vllanie her garments doth repair,  
And stays to make some new and costly gown,  
She thinks to come to Court were great dishonour,  
Except she had some sumptuous clothing on her.   

102  
Therefore she stayed behind, and in her power  
Was Marganor, by those same warriors given,  
Who had new torments taught him every hour,  
And was at last by his sharp judges driven,  
To leap down headlong from a mighty tower,  
Where all his bones and flesh were broke and riven:  
Of him nor these I have no more to say,  
But of those three that went the other way.   

103  
The rest of that same day together riding,  
And half the next in company they spent,  
Until they found a way in twain dividing,  
One to the camp t'other to Arlie went; 
Ovid de ●●istibus. Sape vale dicto rursus suns multa loguutus.   
Here oft they take their leaves, yet still abiding,  
For ever parting makes friends ill content:  
In fine the knight the way to Arlie took,  
They to the camp, and thus I end this book.   
In this xxxv ij. book, 
Moral.  the praises of women are set down to the encouragement of all virtuous minded young Ladies, and likewise the miserable end of Marganor and his two sons, for their unbridled lust and cruelty, to the terrifying of all great men that dispose themselves to lawless and tyrannous behaviour. Lastly in the law made for women, we may see that that sex is capable of rule and government, and not to be excluded from the highest degree thereof (as a noble learned, and learned noble man hath most amply and excellently proved in a discourse of his, which I happened by fortune to light upon, 
Lord Harris Howard. History.  though as yet I think imparted to few.)  
Concerning the history of this book, first it should seem that the whole book itself was inserted into the rest of the work by mine author, to take occasion thereby to speak in praise of women, and specially of the Lady Vittoria, wife to the famous Francis of Pescard: but concerning the famous women by him briefly touched, I will here set down as briefly as I can their story.  
Arpalice or Harpalice a woman of Thrace, whose father being taken prisoner by the Geties, a nation of Scythia, with great courage and expedition recovered him from their hands, of whom Virgil speaks in his Aeneads: 
velure qualis equos Threissa fatgat  
Harpalice volucrem●; suga pr●euertitur Haebrum.   
Tomeris Queen of the Massagetians. Cyrus became a suitor to her, to marry her but she thinking (as it was most likely) he wooed not her, but her kingdom, refused him: hereupon Cyrus made war on her. Tomeris sent her son against him, who was taken by Cyrus with an ambushment, and slain. But she feigning as though she fled for fear, drew Cyrus to the straits of the hills, where (they write) she slew his whole army, being two hundred thousand men, and left not a man alive to carry news; and after in revenge of her son, she put Cyrus' head into a great bowl of blood, using that well known speech: Satia te sanguine quisanguinem sitijsti, Fill thyself with blood that didst thirst for blood. In the 5. staff. 
With those that did Turnios and Hector aid.   
Those two were Camilla and Pentheselea, of both which Virgil writes in the Aeneads: 
Pentheselea surens, medijsque in millibus ardet  
Bellatrix, ardétque viris concurrere virgo.  
She that in compass of bulls hide, etc.   
That was Dido: The story is well known of Pygmalion's cruelty in mardering Sycheus for hope of his money, but Dido warned in a dream by the gift of Sycheus, took away all the gold, and fled with divers confederates to Lybia in Africa, and there bargained to buy as much ground as she could compass with a bulls hide: which bargain being made, she cut the hide into an infinite company of small thongs, and so built the famous city of Carthage within that compass, as Virgil noteth: 
Mercatique locum facti de nomine Birsen,  
Taurino quantum poterant circundare tergo.   
Zenobia Queen of the Palmirens, widow, or as we call it, dowager of Odenatus: She rebelled against the Roman Empire, and fought many battles very prosperously; but afterward by Aurelianus she was besieged in the city of Palmira, and in her flight from thence she was taken and brought to Rome in Triumph.  
She that lnde and Assure frayed: this was Symiramis wife of Nynus, who was a notable warrior; had not her unbridled lust of the flesh stained the honour of her other virtues, which as it became her own destruction, so it hath left a notable example to all other Princes of her sex, to take heed and eschew the like infamy, and specially (though they be above all positive laws) yet not to pollute the laws of nature.  

Allegory.  In that it is said Marfisa and Bradamant put off their bases, therewith to hide the privities of the damsels, it may thereby be understood, that the virtues of some excellent women are so great, as not only serve themselves to make them famous and most honourable, but also extend themselves so far, as to serve to hide and cover the deformity of others not so well appareled with the garments of honour, and so (as it were with works of supererogation) beautify those that had defects of their own.  

Allusion.  Concerning the great praise mine author ascribeth to Madam Vittoria: 
Whose learned pen such privilege can give,  
As it can cause those that are dead to live.   
And for that cause preferreth her before Porcia wife of Brutus, and a divers others that died voluntary soon after their husbands, it was because she wrote some verses in manner of an Epitaph upon her husband after his decease: In which kind, that honourable Lady (widow of the late Lord john Russell) deserveth no less commendation, having done as much for two husbands. And whereas my author maketh so great boast only of our learned woman in Italy, I may compare) besides one above all comparison, 
The four daughters of Sir Anthony Cook. Lady Burke. Lady Ru●t●ll. Lady Bacon. Blistris Kelly. grew.  that I have noted in the twentieth book) three or four in England out of one family, and namely the sisters of that learned Lady, as witness that verse written by the meanest of the four to the Lady burly, which I doubt if Cambridge or Oxford can mend.  
Si mihi quem cupio cures Mildreda remitti, 
She wrote to 〈◊〉 Lady Bobe, to send a 〈…〉 of her 〈…〉 wall, where be dwele, end to, 〈◊〉 his going 〈◊〉 son.   
Tu bona, tu melior, tu mihi sola ●oror:  
Sin malè ceslando retines, & trans mare mittis,  
Tu mala, tu peior, ta mihi nulla soror.  
Is si Cornubiam, tibi pax sit & omnia laeta,  
Sin mare Ciciliae nuncio bella. Vale.  
In the 14 staff.  
And if the great Macedon envy bare,  
Unto Achilles for Meonian lyre, etc.  
This place M. Alexander Nevell imitated, in his verses upon Sir Philip Sidneys funerals, with far sharper conceit than mine author here useth it. For whereas the now King of Scotland had written among, that pretty Epitaph of the foresand Knight: 
Vidit ut extinctum nuper Cytherea Philippum,  
Flevit, & hunc Martem credidit esse suum,  
Abripuit digitis gemmas, collóque monile,  
Martriterum nunquam seu placitura foret:  
Mortuus humana qui lusit imagine divam,  
Quid faceret iam sivideret ille rogo?   
To this effect in English, 
When Venus saw the noble Sidney dying,  
She thought, it her beloved Mars had been:  
And with the thought thereof she fell a crying,  
And cast away her rings and carcanet clean,  
He that in death a goddess mocked and grieved,  
What had he done (trow you) if he had lived?   
The verse hath a fine conceit, and perhaps better than it shows for. Now (as I say) M. Nevell praising Sir Philip Sidney in the like manner, useth the like application, as mine author doth in this place, preferring his fortunateness in this kind, before his, whom Alexander envieth: for he saith (as I remember) 
Plectra canant alios, cecinerunt sceptra Philippum,  
Ista coronatis sunt carmina digna cothurnis.  
Harps, other praise; a sceptre his doth sing,  
Of crowned Poet, and of Laureate king.   
Concerning the tale of Drusilla, it is taken out of Plutarch, and thought a true Story: it is both in the Courtier of Castaglion and in Apuleius; but somewhat amplified by mine author.  
The end of the annotations upon the 37. book.   

  

THE XXXVIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Marfisa doth present herself before  
King Charles, and in his presence is baptised:  
Astolfo doth Senapos sight restore,  
By whom such hardy feats are enterprised,  
That Agramant therewith molested sore,  
Is by Sobrino finally advised,  
To make a challenge on Rogeros' head,  
To end the troubles that the war had bred.  

1  

〈…〉  Fair Ladies, you with gracious ear that hear,  
My present story, now me seems I see,  
By this unwóted changing of your cheer,  
That with Rogero you offended be,  
For thus again departing from his dear,  
And that you take the same as ill as she,  
As though you thought, and durst affirm it boldly,  
That fire of love in him did burn but coldly.   

2  
And sure had he been moved hereunto,  
By any other cause, then that I told,  
No though thereby he had attained to  
Rich Crassus' wealth, or richer Croesus' gold,  
Yet would I think (as now it seems ye do)  
loves darts in him had ta'en but shallow hold:  
For so sweet joy, as this was to be thought,  
With gold nor silver never could be bought.   

3  
But when ones honour shall thereon depend,  
Then should it merit not excuse but praise,  
And chief when one so truly may pretend,  
He cannot save his honour otherways:  
And that same woman that herself should bend,  
To stop the same by prayer, or by delays,  
Should give just cause to every one to guess,  
Her love were little, or her wit were less.   

4  
For if a woman should of him she loves,  
Esteem the life and safety as her own,  
(I speak of such, whose choice no change removes,  
And whose affections are not rashly grown)  
Then sure much more in reason it behoves,  
That of his honour should more care be shown;  
By how much more, it should in due account,  
Both pleasures all, and life itself surmount.   

5  
In following of his Lord so faithfully,  
Rogero did but e'en as he was bound,  
And if he should have left him then, think I  
He should have done it but on slender ground▪  
What though Almonti made his father die?  
On Agramant that fault could not redound,  
Who had for all his ancestors offences,  
Given to Rogero many recompenses.   

6  
He did but well in going to his Lord,  
And she as well (it cannot be denied)  
In that she thereto granted her accord,  
Which she might hap have stopped, had she replied,  
That from the same her liking had abhorred;  
What now she wants, henceforth may be supplied,  
But if that honour have one minutes slain, 
Sentence.   
An hundred years scant can it cleanse again.   

7  
Now while ●Rogero unto Arly went,  
As duty bound him to Traianos' hair,  
Unto the Christian camp incontinent,  
Rogeros' spouse and sister (noble pair)  
As loving friends and co●ns now they went,  
And unto Charles his tent they did repair;  
Who minds by siege, or battles doubtful chance,  
To drive these tedious troubles out of France.   

8  
When in the camp it was made known and bruited,  
That Bradamant was come, her noblest brothers  
Came forth to her, and kindly her saluted,  
With Guidon, though they came of sundry mothers;  
And she, as for her sex and calling suited,  
Did resalute both them, and divers others,  
By kissing some, and speaking to the best,  
And making friendly gestures to the rest.   

9  
But when Marfisas' name was heard and known,  
Whose noble acts e'en from Catay to Spain,  
And over all the world beside were blown,  
To look on her all were so glad and feign,  
With press and thrust not few were overthrown;  
And scarce aman could in the tents remain,  
But heaving, shoving, hither-ward and thither,  
To see so brave a pair as these together.   

10  
Now when to Charles his presence come they be,  
Upon her knee Marfisa did decline,  
And (as Turpino writes) no man did see,  
Her knee to touch the ground before that time,  
To none of any calling, or degree,  
Not unto Christian Prince or Sarazine:  
She only doth esteem king Pippins son,  
As worthy whom such honour should be done.   

11  
But Charles arose, and met her half the way,  
And in kind stately sort did her embrace,  
And set her by his side that present day,  
Above the Princes all, and gave her place.  
Then voided was the room that none might stay,  
But Lords and knights well worthy so great grace,  
Excluding all the saucy base sort,  
And then Marfisa spoke in such like sort.   

12  

Marfisas' oration.  Most mighty Caesar, high renowned and glorious,  
That from our Indies, to Tyrinthian shore,  
From Scythia, frozen full with breath of Boreas,  
To Aethiopia scorching evermore,  
Mak'st thy white cross, so famous and victorious,  
By value much, but by thy justice more;  
Thy praise (O Prince) and thy renowned name,  
Were cause from countries far I hither came.   

13  
And to say troth, flat envy moved me chief,  
Because thy power to reach so far I saw,  
I must confess I took disdain and grief,  
That any Prince that favoured not our law,  
And was to us of contrary belief,  
Should grow so great, to keep us all in awe:  
Wherefore I came with mind to have destroyed thee,  
Or by all means I could, to have annoyed thee.   

14  
For this I came, for this I stayed in France,  
To seek your ruin and your overthrow,  

She means the voice out of the 〈◊〉, in the later end of the 26. book.  When lo a chance (if such a thing can chance)  
Made me a friend and subject or a so,  
I will not stay to tell each circumstance,  
But this in substance, it did make me know,  
That I, your bloody enemy Marfisa,  
Was daughter to Rogero late of Ryla.   

15  
He by my wicked uncles was betrayed,  
And left my woeful mother big with child,  
Who near to Syrté down her belly laid,  
As strangely saved, as wrongfully exiled;  
She brought a twin, a man child and a maid,  
We fostered were, seven years in forest wild,  
By one that had in Magic art great skill, 
〈◊〉.   
But I was stolen from him against his will.   

16  
For some Arabians sold me for a slave,  
Unto a Persian king, whom (grown in years)  
Because he my virginity would have,  
I killed him and all his Lords and Peers  
And then such hap, God and good fortune gave,  
I got his crown and arms, as yet appears;  
And ere I fully was twice ten year old,  
Seven crowns I got beside, which yet I hold.   

17  
And being envious of your endless fame,  
(As er●t I told) I came with firm intent,  
By all the means I could, to quail the same,  
And haply might have done the hurt I meant;  
But now a better mind, that mind doth tame,  
Now of my malice I do much repent,  
Since by good hap, I lately understood,  
That I was near allied to you in blood.   

18  
And sith I know my father was your man,  
I mean no less than he did, you to serve,  
As for the hate and envy I began,  
To bear you I now the same reserve,  
For Agramant, and all the harm I can,  
To all his kin, that do the same deserve,  
Because I now do know, and am assured,  
His ancestors my parent's death procured.   

19  
This said Marfisa, and withal, did add,  
That she would be baptised out of hand,  
And when that Agramant she vanquished had,  
Return (if Charles to pleased) to her own land,  
And christian them, and farther would be glad,  
Against all those that would Christ's law withstand,  
Ay to bear arms, with vow that all her gain,  
To Charles and holy Church should ay remain.   

20  
The noble Charles of tongue as eloquent,  
As wise in head, as valorous in heart,  
Did much extol the Lady excellent,  
And all her kin and sire by just desert:  
And of her former speech incontinent,  
Most graciously he answered every part,  
Concluding that he would for ever after,  
Accept her as his cousin, and his daughter.   

21  
And her again he did embrace of new:  
And kilt her forehead as his child indeed: 
It was the 〈◊〉 in the old time, for 〈◊〉 then 〈◊〉 or of 〈◊〉, in the 〈…〉.   
It long would be to tell how brave a crew,  
From Clarimount, and Mongrane did proceed,  
To welcome her, or when Renaldo knew  
Marfisas' name, what joy in him did breed,  
He calls to mind what force in her he found,  
Then when Albracca he besieged round.   

22  
It long would be to tell of Guidons' joy,  
With Griffin, Aquilant and Sansonet,  
That leapt with her their land that do destroy.  
Those men that in their Realm they hap to get:  
No less did Malagige and Vinian joy,  
Remembering how she joined with Richardet,  
To rescue them, as long before I told.  
When unto Bertolage they had been sold.   

23  
Now was prepared against th'ensuing day,  
A place, as was by Charles himself devised,  
Set stately forth, and hanged with rich array,  
Where this most worthy dame should be baptized,  
Then Bishops were employed by whom she may,  
Be taught the Christian faith and Catechised,  
And all that day a learned Clerk and Preacher,  
The principles of Christian faith did teach her.   

24  
Then Turpin Archbishop of chief account,  
In his robes pontificial doth baptise her,  
Charles with great reverence standeth by the fount,  
And what to answer, he did still advise her.  

〈◊〉 to 〈…〉 book 10.  But now 'tis time that to the Moon I mount,  
For that receipt, must make Orlando wiser,  
From whence the Duke, descending by strange bias,  
Came with S. john in charet of Elyas.   

25  
And by his guide he back again was led,  
And keeps still in his hand that pot or jar,  
That should again make wise the mased head,  
Of that same Palladin well seen in war.  
Likewise the Saint unto Astolfo sed,  
assoon as they alighted from the car,  
That with an herb (of which there grew great store)  
He should again Sonapos sight restore.   

26  
For which, and for his former great desert,  
He should have men t'assault Biserta land,  
He teacheth him those people unexpart,  
He should so train, to make them to his hand:  
He further learned him the way and art,  

●he unstable 〈◊〉, look in the 〈◊〉.  How he might safely pass th'unstable sand:  
And plainly thus S. john, from point to point.  
What th'English Duke should do, did him appoint.   

27  
Then did Astolfo take his winged steed,  
And of the Saint devoutly took his leave,  
And soaring down, he makes no little speed,  
To do that which in charge he did receive;  
So far by Nilus' banks he doth proceed,  
Until that Nubia he did plain perceive;  
And following the course of that same stream,  
Came to Senapo, head of that same Ream.   

28  
Great was the pleasure, triumph, and the joy,  
Senapo took when he thereof had word,  
Remembering well the trouble and annoy,  
The foul Harpias brought him at his boo●d:  
But when he made him eke his sight enjoy,  
And did so rare a grace to him afford,  
That by his means his eye sight was restored him,  
He worshipped him and like a God adored him.   

29  
Nor only did he give him soldiers then,  
Wherewith he might Biserta town invade,  
But for each one he asked he gave him ten,  
That soon two hundred thousand men he made:  
Scarce had the fields room for so many men,  
But footmen all ●●o is that countries trade,  
For horses in that Region are but dentie,  
But Elephants and Camels they have plenty.   

30  
Now that same day that went before the day,  
In which the men of Nubia made account,  
To march on forward, some part of their way,  
Astolfo on his Griffith horse doth mount;  
And Southward he doth pass, and doth not stay,  
Until he came near to a mighty mount:  
At foot whereof a vast cave he doth find, 
Look in the Allusion.   
Which was the lodging of the Southern wind.   

31  
The mighty cave had but a narrow mouth,  
At which the Duke (as Christ's Apostle taught)  
Did watch so long, until the wind of South,  
Came home to ease his spirits overwrought,  
To enter in, Astolfo him allowth,  
But when anon, to have come out he thought,  
Within a leather sack the Duke had placed  
At that caves mouth, he caught and tied him fast.   

32  
The Palladin, full proud of such a pray,  
Returns to Nubia ward, before 'twas night,  
And to the Negroes than he showed the way,  
Appointing them how they should travel right;  
He victuals doth and carriages convey,  
All safe unto that hill, that Atlas height;  
Quite o'er those fields where many have been found,  
With wind for want of water, 
Because the wind ● as wont to 〈◊〉 the sand sometimes in such sort as it 〈◊〉 the men that went in it.  more than drowned   

33  
And being come unto the mountains side,  
There, where he might discover all the plain,  
He doth his bands and companies divide,  
And chooseth those that are most apt to train,  
And those he parts and putteth them aside,  
And orders for the rest he doth ordain,  
Then he in fight of all the hill ascendeth,  
And looked like one that some great feat intendeth.   

34  
And kneeling down (as one that did believe,  
His prayer should granted be, as well as hard)  
He prayed his master their great want relieve:  
Then casting stones that were before prepared, 
●uid. Metam. 7. Sa● a quu hoc credat 〈◊〉 protests 〈◊〉   
(What cannot firm belief in Christ atcheeve?)  
The very stones (a thing to credit hard)  
Did grow, and hue, and move by hidden cause,  
And had both bellies, legs, and necks, and jaws.   

35  
And naying loud, filled all the place with sound,  
Of horse, some bay, some roan, some daple grey,  
And of all them were ready horses found,  
The spur, the wand, the leg and voice t'obey;  
To stop, to start, to pass carrier, to bound,  
To gallop strait, or round, or any way:  
Thus were the men well horsed, with little pains,  
For every horse had saddle, bit and rains.   

36  
Thus by this virtuous Duke, within one hour,  
Were fourscore thousand footmen, horsemen made,  
With which so great and unexpected power,  
Full fiercely he all Afrique did invade,  
And burnt and spoiled full many a town and tower,  
All giving way to his victorious blade,  
Until three Princes, Agramants vicegerents,  
Made head against the Duke, with their adherents.   

37  
The king of Aldyzer, and he of Fierce,  
With stout Bransardo, all three mighty kings,  
That find their enemies to grow so fierce,  

He turns to Astolfo in the next book, 18 staff.  Do send their Lord by sea, word of these things.  
A little fricket strait the waves doth pierce,  
And of these evil news quick notice brings  
To Agramant that lay that time in Arlie,  
Besieged by an army strong and warlie.   

38  
Who hearing of his country's woeful case,  
And by his absence what did them betide,  
He called his Lords and Princes to the place,  
Consulting how for this harm to provide;  
And looking once or twice with stately grace,  
Now on the tone, then on the other side,  
But on Marsilio and Sobrino chief,  
In such like words he told to them his grief.   

39  

Agramants Oration.  Although I wot it worst beseems of all,  
A General to say, I had not thought,  
Yet so say I, for when a harm doth fall.  
Beyond the reach of human sense or thought,  
Then sure the blame is either none or small,  
And in this compass may my fault be brought:  
My fault it was, Africa to leave unarmed,  
If of the Nubians now they could be harmed.   

40  
But who could think (but God that understands  
The things to come as well as those are passed)  
So great an host could pass to many lands,  
That were from us so great a distance placed?  
Twixt whom and us lies those unstable sands,  
That dangerously are moved with Southern blast,  
Yet are they come, and have so far prevailed,  
Byserta self is now by them assailed.   

41  
Now on this point your counsels here I crave,  
If so I shall all fruitless hence retire,  
Or try before I go, if I can have  
The crown of France, to which I do aspire,  
Or how I may at home my country save,  
And this destroy, which is my most desire;  
If any know the mean, then speak he to it,  
To th'end that we may know the best, and do it.   

42  
Thus much the son of great Traiano spoke,  
And on Marsilio fixed his eyes, that he  
As chief in place, thereby might notice take,  
That first by him he would advised be:  
Who when he had stood up for reverence sake,  
And bowed his body, and withal his knee,  
down sat him in his honourable seat,  
And spoke such words as I shall here repeat.   

43  
What ever fame doth bring, 
Mars●●n 〈◊〉 to persuade 〈◊〉 to 〈…〉 wars in 〈◊〉  of good or ill,  
To make it greater it doth ever use,  
Wherefore (my sovereign Lord) I never will  
Be bold or bashed with hearing flying news,  
But move such doubt and such assurance still,  
As though I would not all reports refuse,  
Yet would I think the truth of other sort,  
Then as so many mouths shall make report.   

44  
And I believe each tale so much the less,  
By how much more from likelihood it doth are:  
Now in this present cause let any guess,  
It like it be, a king that dwells so far,  
Could come with such an host, as they express,  
To Africa, so often used to war,  
And pass those perilous sands, 
Look in the stone.  where to his cost,  
Cambyses erst did lose his mighty host.   

45  
But they be Nubians, let it be allowed,  
By miracle come in a shower of rain,  
Or closely carried thither in some cloud,  
Sith by the way none saw so large a train:  
Hath Africa ever to such people bowed?  
Must they have aid to drive them home again?  
I sure may think you kept a sorry garrison,  
If them and yours between there be comparison.   

46  
I rather think th'Arabians are come down,  
From those their hills, and done some spoil or waste,  
And ta'en some men, & burned some baggage town,  
But small resistance finding as they passed,  
And that Bransardo for his own renown,  
Whom as your deputy you there had placed,  
For one sets down one hundred in his letter,  
To th'end that his excuse may seem the better.   

47  
But if you will but send some ship or twain,  
That but your standard may therein appear,  
No doubt but they will high them home again,  
By that time these but weigh their anchors here,  
If they Arabians, that can bide no pain,  
Or if they Nubians be, the case is clear,  
Who only taken have this heart of grace,  
To know your person absent from the place.   

48  
This therefore is the sum of my persuasion,  
Make sure the conquest here ere you go hence,  
Charles can no more endure your sharp evasion,  
Now that his nephew is distraught of sense:  
Now by the forehead let us take Occasion,  
Lest after all our travel and expense,  
He hide away his hair, 
〈◊〉.  and turn his bald.  
And we unprovident be thought and called.   

49  
With these so wary words, and such as these,  
The subtle Spaniard laboured to persuade,  
The king of Africa not to pass the seas,  
Till of the wars in France and end were made:  
But sage Sobrino, that espied with ease,  
How deep he seemed in shallow streams to wade, 
Th●●●, how strongly be 〈◊〉 forced 〈◊〉 reasons.   
Respecting private more than public cause,  
Did answer thus after a little pause.   

50  

〈◊〉 or 〈…〉 made him 〈◊〉 France 〈…〉 to his 〈◊〉.  My Liege, when first to peace I counselled you,  
I would I had not been so true a Prophet,  
Or if my sayings needs must prove so true,  
I would you had believed them for your profit;  
Not Rodomont with that rash youthful crew  
Of Alcyrd, Marbalust, that then did scoff it,  
Whom now I wish here present, face to face,  
But chiefly ‛ Rodomont I wish in place.   

51  
He that then undertook to make all France,  
But like the dust that flies before the wind,  
He that did vow, in heaven or hell, your lance  
To follow, nay to leave it far behind,  
Now when he should the matter most advance,  
Unprofitably lurks in corners blind,  
And I that then (because I told you true)  
Was called a coward, still abide with you.   

52  
And still I will abide, what ere ensueth,  
During this life, which though made weak with age,  
I will not fear, against the strongest youth  
That lives in France, in your defence to gauge;  
Nor yet can any charge me with untruth,  
Not from the proudest Prince to poorest page,  
And well I wot, I have done more than some,  
That promised much ere they were hither come.   

53  
Thus much I say, thereby more plain to prove,  
That what I then did say, or now impart,  
Came from true service, and of loyal love,  
And not of faint, much less of hollow hart:  
Now I advise you hence with speed remove,  
And that you homeward in all hast depart,  
For well you wot, that wisdom it is none,  
In winning other men's, to lose ones own.   

54  
Yet know not I why we should call it winning,  
If of our losses just account we yield,  
Thirty two kings we were at the beginning,  
A third part now scarce tarries in the field;  
And we ourselves here up in corners pinning,  
Scant safe within these rampires can us shield,  
We so decay except in time we cease,  
At last we shall be driven to sue for peace.   

55  
Orlando is not there, 'tis true, what tho?  
Had he been there, we had all died ere this,  
His want doth but prolong our overthrow,  
By other men, our state in danger is:  
They have Renaldo there, that plain doth show  
His force and courage not much less than his,  
There are his cousins, all the Palladins,  
Eternal terror to our Saracens.   

56  

〈…〉.  They further have a man in strength and hart,  
(I needs must praise my foe against my will)  
A second Mars, I mean king Brandimart,  
Whose great puissance joined to active skill,  
Myself in single fight have found in part,  
And further proof have seen by others ill:  
Besides, Orlando wanted long ago,  
Since which we more have lost then won you know.   

57  
Now if we sped no better in time past,  
We shall speed worse hereafter I do dread,  
We see Gradasso over sea is past.  
And that the valiant Mandricard is dead;  
Marfisa hath forsaken us at last,  
And Rodomont, of whom it may be said,  
Were but his faith with force to be compared,  
The rest might in a manner have been spared.   

58  
Now when as so great helps and succours fail us,  
So many thousands of our soldiers slain,  
And all supplies that should at all avail us,  
Already come from Africa and from Spain;  
They have of late got four new knights to quail us,  
Compared with any of the Christian train,  
Four knights that if you search from hence to Ind,  
Four knights to match these four you shall not find   

59  
I know not if you ever heard before,  
Of Oliveros' sons, and Sansonet,  
With Guidon savage, whom I value more  
Than all their other succours that they get,  
From Almanie the higher or the lower,  
Although such aids at nought we cannot set,  
And we do plainly see before our eyes,  
That every day they may have fresh supplies.   

60  
We may assure ourselves if any more  
We take the field, our side goes to the pot,  
For if when we were two for one before,  
Yet we must needs confess we gained not,  
Now they so much increased have their store,  
With foreign power, both English, Dutch and Scot,  
What can we hope but after all our toil,  
To have bad recompense of shame and toil.   

61  
Yet all is well, if you will part betime,  
And hie you home before it prove too late;  
But if you tarry any longer time,  
You here will lose your men, at home your state:  
Now if to leave Marsilio seem a crime,  
For fear the world condemn you for ungrate,  
To save him harmless you for peace must sue,  
Which they will so accept, if so will you.   

62  
But if you think such motion may not stand,  
With honour of your state and high degree,  
And hope by sight to make a surer hand,  
Which yet how it succeeded hath your see;  
Yet seek at least to have the upper hand  
By this device, and herein follow me:  
Put all the quarrels trial, if you can,  
To one, and let Rogero be the man.   

63  
I know, and you do know, and so we all  
Do know, that our Rogero hath such might,  
No Christian can so sturdy be or tall,  
As hand to hand to conquer him in fight:  
But if you mean to make war general,  
Though he in strength far pass each other knight,  
Yet in the fight he but for one can stand,  
And what is one against a mighty band?   

64  
I think it best, if so you think it good,  
To offer this to Charles that if he will,  
If with his worthy courage so it stood,  
For saving those, whom you on both sides kill,  
And shunning of the shedding guiltless blood,  
Which both of you, on each side daily spill,  
Each side to choose one champion at whose apparel,  
To make a full conclusion of the quarrel.   

65  
Provided first, that which so ere of these  
Shall die, his Prince shall pay the other tribute:  
I know this motion will not Charles displease,  
For all his Lords, will thereunto contribute;  
And this would work our safety, and our ease,  
For to Rogero, so much I attribute,  
That such his value is, this cause so ius●  

Antagonist is derived from a Greek word signifying the adversary that fights hand to hand.  Were Mars Antagonist, yet yield he●●●st.   

66  
These words Sobrino spoke with such effect,  
As Agramant thereto gave his consent,  
And then Interpreters he did direct,  
Who strait to Charles with such a challenge went:  
Charles means not such occasion to neglect,  
He thinks the combat won incontinent,  
He had such store of champions, near the latter,  
Unto Renaldo he commits the matter.   

67  
Glad were both armies of this new accord,  
Henceforth to live in quiet they intent,  
And either part doth praise his sovereign Lord,  
That of these broils would make so speedy end.  
Each one in mind these foolish bralls abhorred,  
That made them thus in wars their days to spend,  

Sentence, Dulce bellum the ●pertu.  Each man could say, and no man then denied it,  
That war is sweet to those that have not tried it.   

68  
Renaldo, he in mind doth much rejoice,  
To think his Prince had done him such a grace,  
To make of him above so many choice,  
For trial of ●o great importing case:  
And though Rogero were by common voice,  
The chief man deemed of all the Turkish race,  
And hand to hand had killed Mandricard,  
Renaldo this, but little did regard.   

69  
But good Rogero he was nothing glad,  
Though of so many gallant men and stout,  
His king to his great praise, him chosen had,  
Above all other knights, and pikt him out;  
His heart was heavy, and his look was sad,  
Not that in mind he ought did dread or doubt,  
Renaldoes forces, or Orlando either,  
No scarce and if they had been both together.   

70  
But this procured his grief, because he knew,  
Renaldo brother was unto his dear,  
Who did her plaints with letters oft renew,  
And charged him so deep, as touched him near:  
Now if he should to old wrongs, add this new,  
To kill Renaldo, than the case is clear,  
She should have so great reason to reprove him,  
He doubts she never will hereafter love him.   

71  
Now if Rogero do in silent sort,  
Lament this combat ta'en against his will,  
No doubt his spouse which heard this sad report,  
Was worse apaid than he, at least as ill;  
She beats her breast, and breaks her tresses short,  
And many tears with sorrow she did spill,  
And calls Rogero oftentimes ungrate,  
And curseth evermore her cruel fate.   

72  
It needs must turn unto her grief and pain,  
Who ere is overcome, who ever win,  
She dare not think Rogero can be slain,  
Her heart such anguish doth conceive therein;  
And if it pleased Christ so to ordain,  
For chastising his wretched people's sin,  
That man should die, that of her house was chief,  
Besides his death, that brought a further grief.   

73  
A grief that was indeed beyond all measure,  
To think she never might henceforth for shame,  
Go to her spouse, without the flat displeasure,  
Of all her kin and house of whence she came:  
And when she weighed the case at better leisure,  
Each thing to her seemed worse and worse to frame,  
For why she knew, her tongue that knot had tied,  
That while she lived, might never lose, nor slide.   

74  
But that dear friend of hers, that never failed,  
To help at chiefest needs, the noble maid,  
I mean the sage Melissa, so prevailed,  
That Bradamantés grief was part alaid,  
For when she knew the cause, and what she ailed,  
Against the time, she promised her aid;  
And undertook, that of that bloody quarrel,  
To her nor hers, there should ari●e no apparel.   

75  
This while the gallant knights against the fight,  
Themselves, and eke their weapons do provide,  
The choice whereof did appertain in right,  
Unto the champion of the Christian side,  
Who, as a man that took but small delight,  
(Since he had lost his famous horse) to ride,  
Did choose to fight on foot, and in this sort,  
All armed, with axes long, and daggers short.   

76  
Or were it chance, or were it in regard,  
That Malagige advised him thereto,  
Because he knew the force of Balysard,  
Or power all charms of armour to undo,  
(Of whose sharp edge you have ere this time hard)  
But this they did appoint between then two,  
About the place likewise they do agree,  
A plain near Arlie walls, the same to be.   

77  
Now when Aurora left the loathed bed, 
Look in the Table.   
O● Titan (unto whom she hath no list)  
To th'end that no disorder may be bred,  
On either side the marshals part● he list,  
At end whereof, were rich pavilions spread,  
Where nothing that belongs to stare was missed,  
And distant from each tent a little space,  
On either side, they did an altar place.   

78  
Not long time after this, in battle ray,  
The Turkish army with their king came out,  
Glistering in gold, and stately rich array.  
In show, with all Barbarian pomp set out,  
A swift Arabian horse, of colour bay  
He road, and by his side Rogero stout,  
Road cheek by cheek, and to his greater same,  
On him to wait, Marsilio thought no shame.   

79  
His helmet (for the which the Tartar died,  
Slain by Rogero as I did rehearse)  
(Which since a thousand years, and more beside,  

〈◊〉 Ho●●●● Virgels 〈◊〉.  Was celebrated in more stately verse)  
Marsilio carried, by Rogeros' side,  
Well mounted on a Spanish jennet fierce,  
His arms, and all that did thereto belong,  
Some other states, divided them among.   

80  
On other side came worthy Charlemagne,  
From out his tents, strongly entrenched, anon,  
And all his bands of men he did ordain,  
So as if to battle he should then have gone:  
About him was of Peers a noble train,  
Renaldo in the mids, with armour on,  
That only helmet erst from Mambryn ta'en,  
Was by Vggero borne, the noble Dane.   

81  
Two axes, both alike in each respect,  
Salemon and Duke Namus bear before,  
The Chieftains on each side their men direct,  
To keep within their limits evermore;  
And in the midst, was left a large prospect,  
Between each company, and room good store,  
For present death it was, if any venture,  
Save those two champions, in the list to enter.   

82  

〈◊〉 challeges ●●●ade, the 〈◊〉 appoints 〈◊〉 th' part 〈◊〉 must 〈◊〉, and bring 〈◊〉 weapons, and the challenger 〈◊〉 choice 〈…〉.  When second choice of weapon (as was fit)  
Was given Rogero to avoid suspect,  
Two Priests before the rest came forth, to wit,  
Of each side one, and one of either sect,  
Each had a book, ours had Christ's holy writ,  
Theirs Alcoran, with errors foul infect,  
With ours came forth the Christian Prince devout,  
With that of theirs, the king of Turks came out.   

83  
Now first king Charles near to his altar stands,  
And this great protestation there did make,  
And lifts to heaven both heart, and eyes and hands,  
O God, O Christ, that suffered'st for our sake,  
O blessed Lady, that in swathing bands,  
Heldst him that mortal flesh of thee did take,  
And didst nine months enclose that high divinity,  
In sacred womb, still keeping true virginity.   

84  
Be witnesses, that here I make it known,  
And promise faithfully for me and mine,  
To Agramant, and who so ere shall own  
The crown of Africa in ensuing time,  
That if my champion shall be overthrown,  
To pay to them, each year of gold most fine,  
Ten horslode, and forthwith the wars to cease,  
And evermore hereafter to have peace.   

85  
And if I fail, then let the fearful wrath  
Of both, on me at once this folly wreak,  
And work unto my sect all woe and seath,  
That all ensuing ages plain may speak,  
Lo what a plague, and just reward he hath,  
That durst his oath to you, and promise break:  
This said, his hand he laid upon the book,  
And up on heaven he fixed his steadfast look.   

86  
When this was done, than all departed thence,  
There where the Turks had with much superstition  
Adorned their altar with no small expense;  
And their king Agramant, with like condition,  
Vowed never after this, to do offence  
To Charles, but pass the seas with expedition,  
And ay keep peace, and equal tribute pay,  
If that Rogero vanquished were that day.   

87  
And in like sort he did protest aloud,  
And called on Mahomet, his Idol great,  
And by that book, that his Priest held, he vowed  
To keep most duly all he did repeat:  
This done, to part from thence were all allowed,  
And either Prince retired to his seat;  
Then in like sort they swear the champions both;  
And thus much in effect contained their oath.   

88  
Rogero promiseth, that if the fight,  
By Agramant shall be disturbed or parted,  
That never after he will be his knight,  
But serve king Charles, and be to him true hearted.  
Renaldo in like sort his faith doth plight,  
That if to him, Charles' any aid imparted,  
Before that one of them were overcome,  
That then himself to Agramant would come.   

89  
Now when these ceremonies all were ended,  
Then every man departed to his side,  
And then the warriors only now attended,  
The trumpets sound, that battle signifide;  
Which when both heard, than each of them intended,  
To show the utmost of his value tried:  
Now sounds the steel with blows, not few nor soft,  
Now they themselves, strike low and now aloft.   

90  
Sometime they would beguile the tone the tother,  
With mind unto their strength, to add their art,  
They proffer at one place, and strike another,  
Invading still the least defended part:  
But good Rogero, that against the brother,  
Of her did fight, that did possess his hart,  
Did oft bestow his blows, with such regard,  
Most thought Renaldo was for him too hard.   

91  
He seemed readier to ward then strike,  
For he himself well knew not what he meant,  
To kill Renaldo, that he did not like,  
To die himself that was not his intent:  
But now I hope that none will it mislike,  
Sith in this book so much time hath been spent,  
And lest my tediousness may some molest,  
In this ensuing book to hear the rest.   

Moral.  In the beginning of this book is set down how great a regard a man ought to have of true honour indeed, namely to do nothing ● herein it may be justly touched: not as our young gallants in these days, that stand upon their puntoes in tristing matters, having neither honour in their hearts, nor truth in their mouths. No doubt but to a noble nature and disposition, honour in the tenderest thing that may be: And therefore it may well of them be said: 
Ma all honour chimancha in un momento,  
Non puo in cento annisatisfar, ne in cento.  
But if that honour have one minutes stain,  
An hundred years scant can it cleanse again.   
But as in Religion, the true usage thereof us most necessary to the good of the soul, but heresies and superstition be most damnable; so in this desire of worldy reputation, the good and considerate regard thereof, is the most worthy and Gentlemanly thing that can be: but the vain and frivolous maintenance thereof is as ridiculous and to be scorned. For example, imagine some man so chaste, (as Caesar was called) omnium mulierum vir, or to use our homely English phrase (as the town Bull of the Parish) so true of his word, as he that Heywood writes of that kept all the commandments, and namely that concerning false witness, 
With witness false thou hurtest none, for why,  
Each word thou spakest, each man doth know a lie.   
So temperate in eating and drinking that he surfeits but once a week, vidz. from Saturday to Saturday; and endued with other magnifical qualities, as swearing and gaming, and now and then (of the gentleness of his nature) not scorning a Panders occupation. Can you marvel (I say) if such ●●an stand somewhat nicely upon his honour, if he be touched therein? but the true honourable person indeed, will neither give just cause of offence, nor bear any wrong or disgrace; and whosoever sails either in the first of these, for want of stayed government, or faints in the later of these, for want of true courage, let him know his honour goeth lame on one leg, only the first of these two mayms may be cured, but the tother is called a privy maims, and is utterly incurable.  
Concerning the Orations of Agramant, Marsilio, and Sobrino, a man might make a long, & not unnecessary discourse of the matter, but that I have taken upon me to note, and not to discourse: First therefore in Agramant we may observe how young courageous Princes (such as he is described to have been) are egged on by their grand minions (to whom peace is a penance) to war upon other men's countries, and many times leave their own unguarded: In which kind, fools sometimes give wiser counsel than they. As in the time of that good king of France Francis the first, they report that when he invaded Italy, he consulted with his counsel, where he were best to enter Lombardy: some advising one way, some another, a fool standing by, and hearing their consultation, came in amongst them and swore that they were all fools: for (saith he) here is every man that adviseth the king how to enter into Italy, but none of you takes care how he shall get out again: this though accounted (as it was) but a fools bolt for the time, yet proved too true afterward: for in that journey the king was taken, and was sent prisoner to a Castle in Spain called Madrillo.  
In Marsilio and Sobrino, we may see the qualities of a good counsellor to a Prince, and a bad, one having only a regard to his own private, the other plain and faithful, and careful for his Prince's best safety. In that Sobrino the good and faithful counsellor, adviseth to make an end of the war one way or other, either by taking or paying tribute, one may observe that indeed it is no policy for Princes, but the utter ruin & beggaring of their Realms, to prolong their wars, & to trifle away money & time in such serious causes, & be as uncertain in the end as in the beginning. The saying of a noble & wise councillor (another Sobrino) in England, is worthy to be remembered, that with a pretty tale he told, utterly condemned such lingering proceedings. The tale was this, a poor widow (said he) in the country, doubting her provision of wood would not last all the winter, & yet desiring to roast a joint of meat, & a hen one day to welcome her friends, laid on two sticks on the fire, but when that would not scarce heat it, she fetched two more, & so still burning them out by two and two (whereas one faggot laid on at the first would have roasted it) she spent four or five faggots more than she needed; & yet when all was done, her meat was scorched of one side, and raw of the other side: her friends ill content with their fare, and she enforced ere winter went about, to borrow wood of her poor neighbours, because so many of her own faggots were spent.  

History  Croesus' was the king of Lydia, who thought himself happy for his riches: but Solon was of another opinion, and therefore thought a fool by him, till in the end Croesus being bound at a stake, to be burned by his victorious enemy, he cried out on the name of Solon, and through that thick and dark smoke, he could see that wisdom, which before his eyes dazzled with foolish worldly felicity could not see.  
Crassus called also the rich Crassus, a Citizen of Rome, his saying was, that no man was rich that could not with his bare revenue maintain a Royal army: which if it be a true saying, I doubt whether any Prince Christened at this day be rich. Crassus' in reproach of his covetousness, had molten gold poured into his mouth by the Parthians, who took him prisoner and slew him. Cambyses son of Cyrus' king of Persia having conquered Egypt, invaded the Ammonians with a great army, but for want of victuals was forced to give over his enterprise. Further he sent an army before him of fifty thousand men, with commandment to destroy the Temple of jupiter Amon, and they entering the deserts of that country were never seen again, so as it was thought that while they sat at dinner in the field, a furious Southern wind raised such store of dust and sand, as overwhelmed them and quite covered them.  

Allegory.  In the miracles done by Astolfo, is meant Allegorically, that a man guided by virtue, and assisted by grace, makes all kind of creatures to serve his turn.  

Allusion.  His turning of stones to horses, alludes to the like thing in Ovid's Metamorphosis, where Prometheus and Epimetheus made men of stones. 
Inque brevi spacio superorum numine saxa,  
jacta viri manibus faciem traxere virorum,  
Et de foemineo reparata est foemina iactu.   
In his taking the Southern wind in a bag, it alludes to a like thing in Homer's Odisseas of Ulysses, that had the wind bound in a bag, and some say the Sorcerers near the North sea, use to sell the wind to sailors in glasses, and it is so common among them, that they will laugh as much at those that believe it not, as we would be to hear one tell it.  
The end of the annotations upon the 38. book.   

  

THE XXXIX. BOOK  
THE ARGUMENT.  
King Agramant breaks oath, and is constrained,  
Unto his native soil by sea to fly,  
Where then Astolfo many towns had gained,  
And at Biserta siege as then did lie:  
Orlando thither cometh, madly brained,  
But th' English Duke did cure him by and by:  
Brave Dudon, with his navy made of leaves,  
Meets Agramant, and hotly him receives.  

1  
WHat tongue can tell, or learned pen express?  
The woes, to which Rogero now did run?  
In mind, and body, driven to such distress,  
That of two deaths, the tone he cannot shun:  
If he be slain, and if he kill no less,  
Both ways he sees he shall be quite undone:  
By shame in death, and if he win and live,  
By that offence he shall his true love give.   

2  

Renaldo.  The other knight whom no such thoughts encumbered  
Lets frankly fly his blows without regard,  
In so great store as was not to be numbered,  
No time, no place, nor no advantage spared:  
Rogero seemed to him, as if he slumbered,  
Small list he had to strike, but all to ward,  
And if he did, in such a place he strake,  
His blow great sound, but little sign did make.   

3  
The Pagan Lords now doubt it will go wrong,  
They see the combat so unequal grow,  
Renaldo seemed too lusty and too strong,  
Rogero seemed too lazy and too slow.  
But Agramant that sat the rest among,  
Doth ●ret, and fume, and chase, and sweat, and blow,  
Doth blame Sobrino chiefly, whose persuasion,  
Was of this combat chief and sole occasion.   

4  

Melissa.  This while Melissa sage, whose skill was great  
In Magic art, repaired to the place,  
And with some secret words she did repeat,  
She changed her voice, her statute, and her face,  
In mind hereby to work a wondrous feat;  
She seemed all armed, in a Dragon's case,  
In sword, in shield, in show, in every thing,  
She seemed Rodomont the Sarzan king.   

5  
To woeful Agramant she strait doth ride,  
(In likeness of an horse, she road a spirit)  
And coming to his presence, loud she cried,  
(My Liege) this was too fowl an oversight,  
To match a beardless boy so meanly tried,  
With such a famous and renowned knight,  
And chief in matter that imports so much,  
As doth the whole estate of Africa touch.   

6  
Wherefore that you in time this loss may save,  
Permit the combat to proceed no more,  
Let Rodomont the blame and blemish have,  
Of breaking that, which you so rashly swore;  
Now each man show how well his sword can shave,  
Now I am here, each man is worth a score.  
These words in Agramant had so much force,  
That without more advice, he strait took horse.   

7  
And thinking sure fierce Rodomont was there,  
Forthwith the Christens host he doth invade,  
Of oath nor promise he hath now no fear,  
This one man's presence him so bold had made:  
Each man doth in a moment couch his spear,  
Or charge his pike, or draw his glittering blade:  
Melissa having set them thus together,  
With this illusion vanished (God knows whither)   

8  
The two stout champions when they plainly saw,  
●heir combat, that all quarrel should descide,  
Disturbed against all promise, and all law,  
They cease all force, and lay all wrath aside,  
And by consent, themselves they do withdraw,  
Until it might more plainly be descried,  
In whether Prince of faith were found such want:  
In aged Charles, or youthful Agramant.   

9  
And each of them of new doth vow and sweat,  
That unto him that first did covenant break,  
They will for ever endless hatred bear,  
And join together such offence to wreak:  
The while the hosts of neither side forbear  
To make quick trial who be strong or weak,  
For lightly at the first conflict they shoe,  
Their hearts if they be resolute or no.   

10  

〈◊〉  Even as a grewnd which hunters hold in slip,  
Doth strive to break the string, or slide the collar,  

〈◊〉 be 〈◊〉 or hu●●●●●●cau●e he 〈…〉 〈◊〉.  (That sees the fearful Dear, before him skip,  
Pursewd belike with some Actaeon's scholar)  
And when he sees he can by no means slip,  
Doth howl, and whine, and bites the string for choler  
In such like case within the tents did stay,  
Marfisa with dame Bradamant that day.   

11  
All that same day unto that present hour,  
They had beheld with great despite and pain,  
Such tempting baits yet had they not the power,  
To set their foot in that forbidden plain:  
But now they do the field on each side scour,  
Though erst for duties sake they did abstain,  
Now finding such a true and just excuse,  
That Agramant had lewdly broke the truce.   

12  
Marfisa ran the first quite through the breast,  
And made the spear come forth a yard behind;  
Then with her sword she flies among the rest,  
There chief where most resistance she doth find:  
And Bradamant puts Goldélance in rest,  
With like effects, but of another kind,  
For all she touched therewith she overthrew,  
And yet not one among them all she slew.   

13  
Thus these two warriors ever as they went,  
Subdued their enemies, and kept them under,  
Who ever met them surely should be shent,  
And each of them at tother's force did wonder:  
But being both to sharp revengement bend,  
At last they part themselves, and went asunder,  
Each by herself, such high exploits performing,  
As gave the Turks long after cause of mourning.   

14  

〈◊〉  As when the Southern winds do melt the snow,  
Congealed on tops of mountains many days,  
It often happens that two streams do flow,  

Or vie, A prase to say 〈◊〉 which 〈◊〉 go faster.  And taking in their course, two sundry ways,  
At last so violent and furious grow,  
That bearing down, and breaking usual bays,  
They wast the fields, and seem on vie to run,  
By which of them most damage may be done.   

15  
e'en so these twain, incensed with rage and wrath,  
And each in several acts their forces trying,  
Do work the Turks, no little woe and scathe,  
And leave them overthrown, or maimed, or dying:  
Scarce Agramant the power by this time hath,  
(Say what he list) to keep his men from flying,  
Himself not shrinking though, nor once retiring,  
But evermore for Rodomont inquiring.   

16  
By only his advise and exhortation,  
(For so the unadvised Prince doth think)  
He broken had his solemn protestation,  
He marvels now, to find him so to shrink;  
Likewise Sobrino with great lamentation,  
(Religion in his mind so deep did sink)  
Retyrd to Arly, evermore protesting)  
His faultless mind, that perjury detesting.   

17  
Marsilio eke unto his country fled,  
The shameful promise breach, of Agramant  
Strake in his mind such superstitious dread,  
He leaveth him to bear the brunt, who scant  
Against the Christian soldiers could make head:  
That no supplies of foreign powers did want,  
With Palladines among them fierce and bold,  
Mixed like rich gems in fair embroidered gold. 
Simile.    

18  
But now a while I linquish this conflict, 
He turns to Agramant in this ●ooke the 64.st.   
And pass beyond the seas without a bark,  
For to this tale I am not tied so strict,  
But that I will repeat (if you will hark)  
Astolfos acts, who forward daily pricked,  
With new made horsemen, as (if you did mark)  
I told you erst, and did all Afrique waist,  
Until three kings resisted him at last.   

19  
The king of Algazer, and stout Bransard,  
Did levy powers, such as in hast they could,  
And put them all in arms without regard,  
That some to young were found and some to old;  
Yea from the musters, women scant were spared,  
For Agramant (as hath before been told)  
With hope of vain revenge, without advise,  
Of able men, unpeopled Africa twice.   

20  
Thus few were there, and of those few were there,  
(So quite his country weal he did neglect)  
The greater part unskilful, arms to bear,  
As was more plainly proved in effect,  
For at first brunt they fled from thence for fear,  
In hope Biserta walls should them protect:  
Brave Bucifer was taken in the fight,  
Bransardo scaped, and saved himself by flight.   

21  
For Bucifer alone, he took more grief,  
Then all the rest (he did him so esteem)  
Because Biserta asked great reliese,  
For which this Bucifer most fit did seem,  
Who was in all those parts of credit chief;  
Wherefore Bransardo feign would him redeem,  
He many ways doth cast, but none conclude on,  
Till at the last he did remember Dudon.   

22  
This Dudon was by blood and birth a Dane,  
But yet esteemed the Palladins among,  
He lately at the Bridge was prisoner ta'en,  
Where Rodomont the sturdy Turk and strong,  
Brought many worthy men unto their bane:  
To Africa Dudon than he sent ere long,  
Now Bransard thinks (nor was his thought amiss)  
Stout Bucifer by change to get for this.   

23  
He perfect notice had, by true espial,  
The Nubians leader was an English Lord,  
Who love a Dane (there can be no denial)  
And once were Danes, as writers do record:  
Wherefore he sends a messenger for trial  
Unto Astolfo, who doth soon accord,  
To free his kinsman, whom he loved so dearly,  
And joined was in blood to him so nearly.   

24  
Thus Dudon by the English Duke was freed,  
Who afterward his service did employ,  
Now (as Saint john had wild him to proceed)  
He sought to work the Turks some more annoy:  
And that he might set Provence free with speed,  
Which Agramant and his did then enjoy,  
He maketh of his men a new election,  
Whom he may ●●nd to free them from subjection.   

25  
And having chosen forth some men of these,  
As best from his huge army might be missed,  
Whose number was so great, as he at ease  
With half of them three Africa's might resist:  
He caused them to be trained for the seas,  
And praying God his purpose to assist,  
That night was showed Astolfo in a vision,  
How he of ships might make a large provision.   

26  
Next day the weather being fair and calm,  
Astolfo walketh to the salt sea shore,  
And holding in his hands in either palm,  
Great store of leaves that he had ta'en before,  
Of Bays, of Cedar trees, of Oak, of Palm,  
Into the sea he flung them in great store;  
O metamorphosis beyond all credit,  
O admirable power divine that b●ed it!   

27  
No sooner had the water wet the leaves,  
But presently they changed their former hue,  
The veins that were in them, each man perceives  
To grow to ribs and posts in order due,  
And still at each end sharp each lease reccaves,  
e'en of a sailing ship proportion true:  
And of the ships as many sorts there wear,  
As there were trees that those same leaves did bear.   

28  
A miracle it was to see them grown  
To ships and barks, with galleys hulks and crayes,  
Each vessel having tackling of their own,  
With sails and oars to heipe at all assays.  
The Duke provided, when it once was known,  

Those two islands have store of good sailors.  Both mariners and masters in few days,  
For with his present pay he soon alured  
From Sard and Corsie men to ●eas enured.   

29  
Those that took shipping then, were counted more  
Than six and twenty thousand strong of hand,  
Great Admiral was Dudon, who before  
Had learned the service both of sea and land:  
Now while they lay at anchor nigh the shore,  
To wait when wind would for their purpose stand,  
It fortuned a man of war came by them,  
Full load with prisoners, and cast anchor nigh them.   

30  
These were those prisoners whom fierce Rodomount  
(As oft I have declared) did daily get,  
When at the bridge he did them so dismount,  
And sometime backward in the river set:  
Here were (among some more of good account)  
Brave Brandimart and worthy Sansonet,  
With Oliver, and some I now not touch,  
Both French, Italian, Gascoigne knights and Dutch.   

31  
The master of the bark had first assigned,  
His prisoners at Algiers to unload,  
But being driven by over blowing wind,  
far past the place, he thought to make abode  
Near great Biserta, where he thinks to find  
None but his countrymen within the road;  
To which he thinks himself as welcome guest,  
As Progne is unto her chirping nest. 
Simile.    

32  
But after, when th'imperial bird he saw,  
Conjoined to the Pard and flower of France,  
He was abashed, and looked pale for awe,  
Much like to him that waking new, doth chance  
On poisoned serpent tread, 
Simile.  and same would draw  
Himself from thence, for fear of more mischance; 
Virgi● Im●●●sum 〈◊〉 qui sentious ●●guim, Pressie humi mitens, etc.   
He quakes, and from the serpent doth retire,  
Whose poison swells, and eyes do flame like fire.   

33  
But now the wretched Pilot could not fly,  
And less could keep the prisoners he had caught,  
For both himself, and all they by and by,  
Unto the place against his will were brought,  
Whereas the Duke and Dudon then did lie,  
Who welcomed well the Christens as they ought,  
And he that brought them thither, for his pains,  
Was made a galley slave, and bound in chains.   

34  
Thus were the knights most friendly entertained,  
And greatly welcomed by Otons' son,  
Who horse and furniture for them ordained,  
And caused to them great honour to be done:  
Eke Dudon with these knights some days remained,  
And thinks the time so spent, not lost but won:  
His journey purposely three days deferring,  
To spend the same with these brave knights conferring.   

35  
By their relation he doth understand,  
In what estate King Charles and th'empire stood,  
What are the hau'ns, where he may safely land,  
And where they thought the same would be withstood.  
Thus while discreetly on each point they scanned,  
And each man told what he thought ill or good,  
There suddenly rose in the camp alarm,  
The cause unknown, but each man cried, arm, arm.   

36  
The Duke Astolfo with his noble crew,  
That at that time conferring were together,  
Strait armed themselves, and out their swords they drew  
And went inquiring hither still and thither,  
To learn of whence this sudden tumult grew,  
But yet no cause they could suspect or gether,  
At last they saw a madman stare and stamp,  
That nakt alone did trouble all the camp.   

37  
Those that had seen him first belike did flout him,  
But when some few unto their cost had found,  
That with a bat he so did play about him,  
His blows made many fall in deadly sound:  
They now began so much to dread and doubt him,  
That they had given to him no little ground,  
And none of them to meet him had the hearts,  
They only shot at him, or cast some darts.   

38  
The noble Duke, and those with him did see,  
The wondrous force and most stupendious wrack,  
The madman wrought, and marvelled much that he  
Alone could drive so many souldeirs back:  
When lo, a Lady of no mean degree,  
Road towards them attired all in black,  
And unto Brandimart she came in haste,  
And clasped her arms about his neck full fast.   

39  
I know you know, without my further showing,  
This was the spouse of noble Brandimart,  
Who ever since his woeful overthrowing,  
By Rodomont, did with a pensive hart,  
Seek his release, till at the last she knowing,  
(As I before did more at large impart)  
How he beyond the seas was prisoner sent,  
Herself at Arly to take shipping meant.   

40  
But while that loving purpose she pursewth,  
Bardino met with her, an Eastern knight,  
Who brought up Brandimart in tender youth,  
And kept him at a Castle (Sylvan height)  
He hearing at her mouth at large the truth,  
And how in Africa they find him might,  
They soon agreed, no long time overslipping,  
To seek him out and so forthwith took shipping.   

41  
No sooner they on Afrique shore did land,  
(Bardino sage, and faithful Fiordeliege)  
But first the people let them understand,  
Astolfo great Biserta did besiege,  
With many a Captain brave, and gallant band;  
Likewise a brute of Brandimart their liege  
Was spread, that he was there arrived newly,  
But none was able to confirm it truly.   

42  
Until so long they traveled on the cost,  
At last she found and saw him with her eyes,  
Among those Lords, amid the Nubian host,  
With which such joy did in her thoughts arise,  

〈…〉.  As vital spirits did fail in her almost,  
Not any word to speak could she devise,  
But hanged about his neck a burden sweet,  
And he as lovingly his spouse did greet.   

43  
Full glad was he to see her, and as glad  
To see his ancient tutor and his friend,  
And further talk with them he would have had,  
But he was forced to make a speedy end,  
By means the man that naked ran and mad,  
Did keep such rule as did them all offend.  
Fair Fiordeliege that looked with eye more curious,  
Cried, ah my dear, this is Orlando furious.   

44  
Astolfo eke when as he did behold him,  
And saw how madly he about did range,  
And no man durst him meet, nor none could hold him,  
He wondered greatly at the sight so strange,  
And by the marks that erst Saint john had told him,  
He knew it was the man; but such a change  
There was in all his shape, from top to toe,  
He rather seemed a beast, more than a man in show.   

45  
Astolfo strait did call unto the rest,  
And said my Lords, this man that you had viewed,  
Orlando is: at this themselves they blest,  
And every one his woeful pickle rued:  
Well (said the Duke) to help our friend is best,  
And not to wail; and therefore to conclude,  
Come join your force to mine, and let us take him  
And I do hope ere long I'll sober make him.   

46  
To this they soon assent, and Brandimart,  
With Sansonet and Olivero jolly,  
And Dudon closed him round, on every part,  
But he as full of strength, as fool of folly,  
At Dudon strake, and save the blow in part  
Was broke by Oliver, and fell not wholly  
On Dudon, sure I think that staff accursed,  
His shield his headpiece, head and all had burst.   

47  
His shield it broke, and thundered on his skull,  
That noble Dudon there withal fell back,  
But Sansonet strake with his sword so full,  
That of the staff three yards he made him lack:  
Now Brandimart thinks backward him to pull,  
And leaps behind, a pick pack, on his back,  
And holds his arms: the Duke doth then devise,  
To hold his leg, and Oliver his thighs.   

48  
Orlando shakes himself, and with a spring,  
Ten paces off, the English Duke he cast,  
But Brandimart from him he could not fling,  
That was behind him, and did hold him fast,  
But yet with Oliver he was to bring,  
For with his fist he smote him as he passed,  
That down he fell, and hardly scaped killing,  
From mouth, nose, eyes, the blood apace distilling.   

49  
Of headpiece strong he never had more need,  
For sure he could not have escaped death,  
Except it had a good one been indeed.  
This while Astolfo now had taken breath,  
And Dudon both who late for want of heed,  
Were by Orlando tumbled on the heath,  
With Sansonet, that pared his staff so well,  
All these at once upon Orlando fell.   

50  
Good Dudon that endeavours him to cast,  
With Brandimart, about his shoulders hangs;  
Astolfo and the rest his arms hold fast,  
He seeks to lose himself with sudden pangs:  

Simile.  Who so hath seen a Bull with mastiffs chaste,  
That in his ears have fixed their cruel fangs,  
How he doth run, and roar, and with him bears  
The eager dogs, that still hold fast his ears.   

51  
Let him imagine that Orlando now,  
In such sort drew the warriors on the plain;  
But Oliver, that had the broken brow,  
Again on foot recovered up again,  
Did cast within his mind a reason how,  
To do with ease, that they did seek with pain:  
He doth bethink a way, that will not miss  
To do the feat: and his device was this.   

52  

〈…〉 a long 〈…〉  Full many a halser, and full many a cord  
With sliding knots all knit he doth provide,  
And to the legs and arms of this mad Lord,  
He made them on the sudden to be tied;  
And than their ends on each side by accord,  
They all of them amongst themselves divide.  
Thus were those Princes feign to do unto him,  

Simile.  As Smiths do to an ox, when they do shoe him.   

53  
Then ●ell they on him when he lay on ground,  
And then they bind him sure, both hand and foot:  
Orlando when he felt himself thus bound,  
Doth strive in vain, for striving will not boot,  
Astolfo that doth mean to make him sound,  
And saw his skin look black as any soot,  
Requested them unto the shore to bear him,  
Which soon was done, for now they need not fear him.   

54  
Then seven times was he washed in the place,  
And seven times dipped over ears and head,  
To get the scurse from of his skin and face,  
Which with his naked going had been bred:  
Then with some herbs, the Duke got in this space,  
He made them stop his mouth, for why he said,  
For certain secret reasons that he knows,  
He must not fetch his breath but at his nose.   

55  
Then kneeling down as if he asked some boon  
Of God, or some great Saint, that pot he brought,  
Which he had carride●r● beyond the Moon,  
The latre, in which Orlando's wit was caught,  
And closed it to his nostrils, and estsoone,  
He drawing breath, this miracle was wrought,  
The jar was void, and emptied every whit,  
And he restored unto his perfect wit.   

56  

〈◊〉  As one that in some dream or fearful vision,  
Hath dreamt of monstrous beasts, and ugly fends  
Is troubled when he wakes with superstition,  
And feareth what such ugly sight intends,  
And lying wake, thinks of that apparition,  
And long time after in that fancy spends:  
So now Orlando lay, not little musing,  
At this his present state, and uncouth using.   

57  
He holds his peace, but lifting up his eyes,  
He sees his ancient friends king Brandimart,  
And Oliver, and him that made him wise,  
All whom he knew, and loved from his hart;  
He thinks, but cannot with himself devise,  
How he should come to play so made a part,  
He wonders he is nakt, and that he feels,  
Such store of cords about his hands and heels.   

58  
At last he said, 
Look in the story.  as erst Sileno said,  
To those that took him napping in the cave,  
Solute me: with countenance so stayed,  
And with a cheer so sober and so grave,  
That they unloosed him, as he them prayed,  
And suffered him his liberty to have,  
And clothed him, and comforted his sadness,  
That he conceived of his former madness.   

59  
Thus being to his former wits restored,  
He was likewise delivered clean from love;  
The Lady whom he erst so much adored,  
And did esteem all earthly joys above,  
Now he despised, yea rather quite abhorred:  
Now only he applies his wits to prove,  
That fame and former glory to recover,  
Which he had lost, the while he was a lover.   

60  
This while Bardino told to Brandimart,  
How that his father Monodant was dead,  
And how his brother Gylyant on the part  
Of all that those East Isles inhabited,  
Him sent of purpose these news to impart,  
And pray him (as he ought) to be their head:  
Sith all the world had not a Realm more wealthy,  
Nor any Prince could wish a seat more healthy.   

61  
Wherefore (saith he) dear sir, it is most meet,  
That you should now repair to your own home,  
For home though homely 'twere, 
Sentence.  yet is it sweet,  
And native soil is best: you would not room  
About the world, did you once taste and see't,  
Thus much he said, but Brandimart in whom,  
True love & great renown were bands more strong  
Than private profit, answered this ere long.   

62  
My brother's message, and your friendly pain  
I kindly take, but lo; my word is past,  
With Charles and with Orlando to remain,  
And them to serve while these garboils do last:  
Now in my steed, I will my brother reign,  
Let him be my viceroy, and I will hast,  
When once these wars are at a final end,  
To come, and there my life with them to spend.   

63  
Thus these did part, and next ensuing day,  
Went Dudon with his fleet to Provence ward,  
Orlando with the British Prince doth stay;  
And when the state of those same wars he hard,  
Unto Biserta strait a siege they lay,  
But evermore Orlando had regard,  
That (as Astolfo followed his advise)  
To give him th'honour of each enterprise.   

64  
But how they did the great Biserta win,  

〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 of Bi●eria 〈◊〉 book 〈◊〉.  When they assaulted it, and on which side,  
How at the first assault, the men within  
Did yield, and durst no longer trial bide,  
I cannot farther now proceed herein,  
But must defer it to another tide:  
Now I do purpose unto you to show,  
How Agramant received an overthrow.   

65  
Who was well-nigh abandoned of his men,  
e'en in the very fury of the fight,  
For why Marsilio and Sobrino then  
Were gone, in mind to save themselves by flight;  
In walled towns they feared themselves to pen,  
But went to sea with all the hast they might,  
And many Princes of the Turkish train,  
The sample follow given them by these twain.   

66  
Yet Agramant did bear it out a space,  
But when he saw there was no other shift,  
Then from his enemies he turned his face,  
To get into the town was all his drift:  
Him Bradamant pursewd a wondrous pace,  
Still spurring Rabican, that ran full swift,  
She wished upon his corpse to venge the wrong,  
In keeping of her dear from her so long.   

67  
On other side Marsisa road as fast,  
To venge though late, her father's woeful end,  
She makes her horse to feel she is in haste,  
But each of them doth miss that they intent:  
He got within the gates and made them fast,  
And then to sea he doth himself commend,  
He sees he was not able to withstand,  
The forces of his enemies by land.   

68  
As two courageous Pards, that held in chase  
An Hart, or bearded Goat upon a plain,  
That scaped then by swiftness of his pace,  
With no small wrath, and chase turn back again,  
As though they thought they had a great disgrace,  
In that they followed had the prey in vain,  
So did the damsels chase, and sigh, and fret,  
That they to Agramant no near could get.   

69  
But though he scaped their hands, yet sure the rest  
Escaped not, full dearly then abvying,  
Some wounded in the side, in back, and breast,  
Some slain out right, some worse than dead a dying,  
How sorily (pooresoules) had they been dressed,  
Whose safety was not wrought, no not by flying,  
For Agramant, himself more sure to save,  
To shut the City gates commandment gave.   

70  
He made the bridges cake to be cut down,  
On Rodon stream, that was both large and deep,  
Ah woeful subjects unto tyrant's crown,  
Who that they may their persons safely keep,  
Regard not if their people swim or drown,  
But deem of them like beasts, or silly sheep,  
That so themselves they pamper may and cherish,  
They care not if their men in millions perish.   

71  
'twas infinite the number that was slain,  
In this same last conflict, nor fewer drowned,  
While they attempted despratly in vain,  
To pass the stream, so broad and so profound;  
Of which great slaughter yet the signs remain,  
For daily near to Arlie walls are found,  
Huge heaps of dead men's bones, and of their skulls,  
Whose flesh was then devoured, by crows and gulls.   

72  
Now Agramant made speedy preparation,  
And caused his ships forth in the deep to launch,  
Providing all that longs to navigation,  
In mind for ay to bid farewell to France:  
Two days the wind, stopped his determination,  
The third it served, and then he did advance  
His sails, and every one did ship his ore,  
And so away they parted from the shore.   

73  
Marsilio doubting lest his Realm of Spain,  
Should now be driven to pay this costly shot,  
And fearing to be forced to sustain,  
That storm alone, which fell in France so hot;  
Doth land at Valence, where he did ordain  
All furniture, that might for war be got,  
Repairing all his towns against that war,  
That after him, and all his friends did mar.   

74  
But Agramant, his ships to Africa bent,  
Ill armed, half void of men, but full of grief,  
For most of them were sad and malcontent,  
Three parts of four, were lost past all reliese:  
And though for fear perhaps, of being shent,  
None dare in public speak to his repriese,  
Yet secretly, their burning hate to cool,  
Some called him proud, some cruel, some a fool.   

75  
But (as I say) they speak this in their sleeves,  
For fear of blame, except some two or three,  
That each to other open dare their grieves,  
Yet wretched Agramant, he doth not see,  
How he is scorned; but he still believes,  
That he is loved, and why, because that he,  
Saw never looks but fawningly disguised, 
Look in the Moral.   
Herd never words, but fainingly devised.   

76  
Now he was fully purposed in his landing,  
To leave Biserta and seek harbour nigher,  
Because he late had perfect understanding,  
The Nubians spoiled those parts with sword and fire  
Wherefore for doubt of dangerous withstanding,  
He meant to shun that port, and land far higher,  
And thence withal unto his parts addicted,  
To bring relief unto the town afflicted.   

77  
But lo his cruel fate, doth overthrow  
His counsel sage, and quite his hope deceives,  
For while scant wind did make him sail but slow,  
Stout Dudon with that navy made of leaves,  
Met him full butt, that no such thing did know,  
And with a fierce assault him there receives,  
Enforcing him to unexpected fight,  
In that dark, cloudy, and tempestuous night.   

78  
For Agramant no spy all had till now,  
Of these same ships, and would have deemed a fable,  
If one had told him of a little bow,  
To make a hundred ships, a man was able:  
Wherefore he sailed on he cared not how,  
And doubts no foe but wave, and wind unstable,  
And not expecting such strange sudden stops,  
He never let his watchmen in his tops.   

79  
On other side, our men that had espied,  
Their enemies, at sea an hour ere night,  
Came with great speed, although all undeseride,  
For cu'tie ship kept close their fire and light:  
At last when as they saw their time, they tried  
Their utmost force, and with full sails they light  
On their toes shipping, that at first did shrink,  
And many did unto the bottom sink.   

80  
Now Dudons men began to play their parts,  
Some using fire, some heavy stones, some steel,  
Upon the Turks fell such a storm of darts,  
As they before, the like did never feel:  
On our side God, with courage filled their hearts,  
On their side, each man's hart was in his heel,  
They stood amazed with fear, and quite astonished,  
The time now come their old sins should be punished.   

81  
Thus Agramant is closed on every side,  

Description of a 〈◊〉, e● fight.  With many a pike, and sword, and hook, and axe,  
The stones that fell from high, made breaches wide,  
And much sea entered at the new made cracks,  
But most the fire, which they could least abide,  
That takes in pitched boards, and wreathed flax,  
To kindle very quick, but slow to quench,  
annoyed them sore with heat, & smoke, & stench.   

82  
Some over board do fall in water cold,  
And there are drowned: some take them to their swimming,  
But on another bark while they take hold,  
They now full fraught, and fearing overtrimming,  
With cruel sword (a foul sight to behold)  
Cut of their bands, with which they now were climbing,  
The bleeding stumps all mangled there remained,  
And with fresh blood, the water salt was stained.   

83  
Some few to save their lives that had desire,  
Or at the least, to lose them with least pain.  
Do leap in water to escape the fire,  
Till with new sear of drowning, they again,  
Unto the flaming shipwrecks do retire,  
And there, with much a do are glad and feign,  
To catch some burning board: and being loath,  
To die of either death, they die of both.   

84  
Some one for fear of sword, or axe, or pike,  
Doth all in vain, unto the sea betake him,  
For why some stone, or arrow, or such like,  
Ere he be far from thence, doth overtake him:  
But least the reader haply may mislike,  
My too long tale, this motion I would make him,  
That to another season he defer,  
To hear the sequel of this bloody war.   

Moral  In Rogeros' irresolute fight, may be noted how necessary it is for a man before he go to fight, to put on a good and firm resolution, and chiefly of the goodness of his cause. In Agramants breach of the oath and promise, we may see how odious a thing it is before God and man to be Foedifragi, Truce-breakers; which maketh them indeed, to be forsaken of their friends, prosecuted with great malice of their enemies, loathed, detested, and scorned of their own subjects, and in the end breeds their utter confusion. In that Agramants soldiers do mutiny against him and revile him secretly, and he notwithstanding thinks himself to be well beloved of them, and well thought of, we may see in what a lamentable case those Princes are, that (as is said of them) 
Never see looks, but fawningly disguised,  
Never hear words, but fayningly devised.   

History.  Of the History of this book, first for Sileno that was Virgil's Schoolmaster, it is written of him, he was one day laid to sleep, after he had been made drunk with wine, and his scholars merrily bound him, whereupon he waking said that verse, 
Soluite me pueri, satis est potuisse videri.   
Concerning this great battle at Arlie, certain it is (as divers Historiographers have noted it) that there remain to this home, great heaps of bones, betokening some great slaughter of men in that place: but when it should be done, I cannot precisely affirm.  

Allegory  In that Mehsla by the help of the devil, taking upon her a false image of Rodomont, moved Agramant to break truce, the Allegory thereof is, that they be devils or devilish persons, that will move Princes to break their word and their promise.  
Of Orlando's restoring to his wit, which indeed is the chief Allegory of all the book, and where-upon the book taketh th● name, Orlando Furioso, this in brief is the meaning thereof.  
Orlando a man of noble birth, Earl of Auglant, nephew to Charles the great, falls so far in love with Angelica, by which (as I have often noted) is meant pleasure, or honour; that he loseth his wits and becomes mad: by which may be meant any s●lly that young men fall into with love, with prodigality, with ambition or vain studies; (which are at large recited in the 34. book.) Astolfo with the receipt he had of S. john, makes him wise again, that is, by the grace of God and by the Gospel, which teacheth us how to despise all these worldly things, and either quite leave them or turn them to our good and benefit.  

Allusion.  The sea fight which is in the later end of this book described, is like that which Lucan sets forth in the civil wars between Caesar and Pompey: or rather indeed, to that he speaks of in the next book of Cardinal Hippolito against the Venetians.  
Here end the annotations upon the 39 book.   

  

THE XL. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Great Agramant doth fly, and in his flight  
Would kill himself, but Sobrin him forbade,  
Biserta being fired, a woeful sight:  
At last they meet Gradasso in a road,  
They send a challenge, three to three to fight,  
Unto Orlando, where he than abode;  
Rogero fights with Dudon to set free  
seven kings, whom bound in chains he chanced to see.  

1  
'tWere long (my Lord) to tell of all that fought,  

Look in the History of the similitudes.  In that sea fight, and certes all the while,  
That I should tell it you, I should be thought,  
To bear pots (as they say) to Samos I'll,  
Where earthen vessels in great store are wrought.  
Or Owls to Athens, Crocodiles to Nile:  
For more than can of this by me be told,  
Yourself have caused many to behold.   

2  
Your faithful people had a long prospect,  
When all a day upon the stream of Poe,  
Your men, as your great value did direct,  
The shipping of your foes assaulted so,  
That with their blood the stream they did infect,  
And brought upon them all, a world of woe;  
Then both yourself, and others plain did see,  
How sundry deaths, in fights of sea there be.   

3  

Ariofso was sent post to Rome to pacify Pope julio the second, which he toucheth in one of his satires. The Lion's teeth and paws meaning the Venccians, called the Lions of the sea.  It was not then indeed, my hap to see't,  
(Sent then to Rome six days before in post,  
To crave then, at the holy father's feet,  
Relief and aid against so great an host)  
And in that time your grace with them did meet,  
In such a sort, so sorely to their cost,  
And so you pared the lions teeth and paws,  
That since that time to fear we had no cause.   

4  
But Aifonsin, and M●ore that saw the same,  
A●sranio, Hannibal, and Lerbinet,  
Albert, 
Three of the name of An●.  and Baygn, and three that bear my name,  
Declared to me the conquest you did get:  
Also their banners, monuments of fame,  
Which offered in the Churches you did set,  
With fifteen Galleys ta'en a thousand botes,  
Of that rich conquest, give us open notes.   

5  
He that had seen the fire and wondrous wreak,  
That at that time was wrought upon your foes,  
When for your few, their many were too weak,  
He might describe the deaths and divers woes,  
Of Agramantés host, of which I speak,  
And of their great and grievous overthrows,  
Then when amids the surging waves and salt,  
Stout Dudon in the night did them assault.   

6  
When first the fight began, the night was dark,  
But when the flame upon the pitch took hold,  
The fire gave light, and did so clearly spark,  
That Agramant might plainly now behold  
His enemies, and their great number mark,  
Incredible, if any had it told:  
Wherefore in season to prevent the worst,  
He changed the course he had intended furst.   

7  
And choosing out a vessel swift of sail,  
And placing there his things of greatest price,  
With Brigliadore (sith all hope now doth fail)  
To steal from thence he closely doth devise:  
And while that Dudon doth his men assail,  
In all the hast he can, away he flies,  
His men the sword, the sea, the fire destroys,  
And he is fled that caused their annoys.   

8  
And in that Bark, with him Sobrino fled,  
Who much complained and was not little grieved,  

〈…〉.  That that which he before so truly said,  
Yet then by Agramant was not believed:  
But tell we now how good Astolfo sped,  
And what exploits Orlando had atcheeved,  
Who counselled so to raze Biserta town,  
That it might never noy th'imperial crown.   

9  

〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  And so it was in public sort proclaimed,  
That the third day th'assault they should expect,  
Astolfo had some ships before ordained,  
(For Dudon had not all) for this effect,  
And these same ships with Sansonet remained,  
A man that could by sea and land direct,  
Who road at anchor near Biserta shore,  
But distant from the haven a mile and more.   

10  
The British Duke, and valiant Palladine,  
That like good Christens used evermore,  
To pray to God for grace and aid divine,  
Proclaimed in the camp, three days before,  
That to assault the town they did assign,  

〈…〉.  By fast and public prayer, Christ to adore,  
And crave his aid against that wicked town,  
That they might raze it quite and beat it down.   

11  
And having ended that their solemn fast,  
And made their vows, accustomed in such case,  
Then friendly they together take repast,  
And each his friend, and parent doth embrace,  
And spoke as if those words should be their last,  
The kindly tears, oft trickling down their face,  
And every one resolved by and by,  
Either to win the town, or in the place to die.   

12  

〈…〉.  Also the wretched Priests within the town,  
With sayned show of foolish superstition,  
Pray unto Macon, that he do not frown  
On them: and vow to him on that condition,  
Great Holocausts, with cost of many a crown,  
Of him they seek to have their sins remission,  
And as if he the fates could mend or alter,  
They offer sacrifices on his altar.   

13  

〈◊〉 Terms of 〈◊〉 Priest.  Then when they were by their great Cady blest,  
They went (but faintly) to their City wall,  
Yet did the fair Aurora take her rest,  
And scarce the Eastern coast yet looked pale,  
When Sansonet, Astolfo, and the rest,  
That had the needful things provided all,  
The noble enterprise did take in hand,  
And did assault the town by sea and land.   

14  

〈…〉.  Biserta hath this manner situation,  
Two parts thereof with water are enclosed,  
Two parts with goodly wall of ancient fashion,  
But not so strong, as one would have supposed:  
And though to make new strength and reparation;  
The king Bransardo all the town disposed,  
His time and warning were so short and small,  
He could do little good, or none at all.   

15  
Astolfo did appoint the Nubian king  
Such wise to noy the keepers of the wall,  
With darts, and Turkish bows, and many a sling,  
That from the battlements he drove them all,  
That now he might both horse and footmen bring,  
Upon the ditch in peril none or small;  
And each according to his power and skill,  
Brought matter wherewithal the ditch to fill.   

16  
Some faggots brought, 
Helm is the best of the straw with which they thatch houses.  & some brought store of helm  
Some heavy stones, & some light planks and boards  
And lest the stream their work might overwhelm,  
They turned it away by other fords;  
Great store of wood there grew in that same Realm  
The which to them great store of stuff affords,  
And now that Proverb see performed you might,  
That many hands make heavy works but light. 
Proverbs.    

17  
The Nubians fierce impatient of all stay,  
And by desire of gain all headlong led,  
The peril great and danger do not way,  
But each man clapps his target on his head:  
And then their battery to the walls they lay,  
With rams, and engines strongly furnished,  
With which to shake the walls they do begin,  
Nor were they all unfurnished within.   

18  
Darts, stones, and planks, yea e'en their houses tile,  
They flung down on them, when; they drew more near  
By which they broke and pierced otherwhile,  
Their engines huge, so as it might appear,  
Dame Fortune seemed at first on Turks to smilé,  
But after soon again she changed her cheer,  
No sooner night was gone, and Sun once up,  
But that they tasted of another cup.   

19  
Then on each side they had so hot a charge,  
As hardly they were able to sustain:  
Sansonet of the shipping had the charge,  
And he by sea assaults them to their pain;  
And, for their power was great, and place was large,  
Each Captain took with him a several train,  
Thereby the more to trouble all their foes,  
And of their virtue, to make larger shoes.   

20  
And for that special cause, they do divide,  
Their mighty host into four several parts,  
To th'end that by that means it might be spied,  
Which men had stout, and which had fainting hearts,  
Great towers on mighty wheels did seem to ride,  
Drawn with great force like ordinary carts,  
And Elephants did carry towers so tall,  
As did in height surpass the City wall.   

21  
A scaling ladder Brandimart doth bear,  
And climes himself and causeth others clime:  
For what man having such a guide, could fear;  
Each man to stay doth think it heinous crime:  
The ladder's strength was weighed by no man there,  
Each roung a man, and some bears two sometime:  
Now Brandimart to conquest wholly bend.  
Gets to the top, and wins a battlement.   

22  
With hand and foot he clammerd in such sort,  
He won a batlement and did it keep;  
Then with his sword he made them all such sport,  
As caused the lookers on, not laugh, but weep:  
The ladder now charged with too great resort,  
Standing aslope, and not upright and steep,  
Broke in the midst, so that save Brandimart,  
All of them fell, unto their pain and smart.   

23  

Look in the Allusion.  Their Captain though, with this no whit dismayed,  
Keeps still his place though he the hap did mark,  
Although he saw his men him could not aid,  
Though he alone were all their shooting mark;  
His men below cried out to him, and prayed  
Him to retire, but he no whit could hark,  
But boldly from the wall into the town,  
Which was thrice ten foot deep, he leapt down.   

24  
As if the pau'ment had been straw, not stone,  
So leapt he down, so nimble and so light,  
And being there, laid so about alone,  
He made them all give place unto his might:  
Of those that fought he killed many a one,  
The rest thought best to save themselves by flight,  
But they that saw him leap down from without,  
Within their minds were full of dread and doubt.   

25  
Straightways about the camp a rumour spread,  
From mouth to mouth, & man to man doth come,  
And same doth fly, and flying gathers head,  
Of that hard feat, that Brandimart had done;  
And comes at last whereas Orlando led  
His band, and after to king Otons' son,  
And then to Olivero, never ceasing,  
But in her going still her tale increasing.   

26  
All these, but chief Orlando all among,  
That Brandimart in mind did dearly love,  
An● hearing it from thence they tarrid long,  
It would be hard his danger to remove;  
Unto the walls set scaling ladders strong,  
Resolved now their utmost force to prove;  
And up they mount, with looks so grim and bold,  
As scant their enemies durst them behold.   

27  

Simil●.  As when the seas are wrought with sturdy wind,  
The venturous vessel tossed with many a wave,  
Is sometime smote before, sometime behind,  
And each surge strives a passage free to have;  
The fearful Pilot with astonished mind,  
Knows not which way himself he should behave,  
Till at the last one surge the whole possesseth,  
And to both Pilot, ship, and all oppresseth.   

28  
So when those three, of whom before I spoke,  
Had got the wall, they did the soldiers teach,  
To follow them, and so large path did make,  
As thousands of them now the wall did reach:  
This while the monstrous rams the walls did shake  
In other places, and made such a breach,  
That now in many parts without resistance,  
They might to Brandimart bring good assistance.   

29  
Look how that stream surnamed of streams the king, 
Simile. Po● called king of 〈◊〉.   
With damage great above his banks doth grow,  
When some strong wind, or tied of highest spring,  
Makes him beyond accustomed bounds to flow,  
And thereby hurt unto the fields doth bring,  
And drowneth flocks, and houses overthrow,  
Then trees do harbour fish, as new come guests,  
Where flying birds were wont to build their nests.   

30  
So now Biserta walls were far too weak,  
To save the City from both sword and fire;  
The valiant Captains first the Ice do break,  
To follow whom, the soldiers do aspire;  
And what with will their ancient wrongs to wreak  
And what with hope of booties, and desire,  
They ruined soon that City, that had been  
Of Africa, the sole triumphant Queen.   

31  
Now multitudes lay slain in every street,  
And with the blood that of their wounds did run,  
The channels flowed vermilion under feet;  
But when the fire to take had once begun,  
No doubt it was a woeful sight to feet,  
What spoil upon the town by fire was done:  
Such cries, such plaints were over all the City,  
As might have moved any hearts to pity.   

32  
Their helpless Gods now under foot were trodden,  
Their sacred jewels taken all for pray,  
The conquerors come forth of houses, laden,  
With gold, with plate, with fair and rich array;  
And though the soldiers flatly were foreboden  
Fowl beastly lust, this was to them no stay,  
Young children and old matrons could not scape,  
Deflowering forced, nor ungodly rape.   

33  
Stout Olivero with a sound blow slew,  
King Bucifer, and brought him to his end,  
Bransardo killed himself, when as he knew,  
The City could not now itself defend;  
Astolfo did in single fight subdue  
Fuluo, and took him prisoner in the end:  
These three were those, whom (as before you hard)  
King Agramant those countries left to guard.   

34  
But Agramant, 
Agramant.  who as before I told,  
Stole from his men, and so away did sail,  
When as he did these flames from far behold,  
Much did the state of that same town bewail;  
But when a messenger did plain unfold,  
How far his foes in Africa did prevail,  
He would have slain himself, of woes to rid him,  
Save that the sage Sobrino did forbid him.   

35  
Ah sir said he (in friendly sort him chiding)  
Drive from your worthy mind such wretched thought, 
Sobrin●s Oret●● to Agraman●, persuade him not to kill himself.   
What could be to your foes more welcome tiding,  
Then that yourself, your own destruction sought?  
They doubt, while you in safety are abiding,  
But hard to keep, that they have easily caught;  
Not one of them but dreads, and greatly fears,  
That Africa while you live, cannot be theirs.   

36  
Your death would all your friends of hope deprive,  
(The only help that in our case is left)  
All they have got, while you remain alive,  
They can but count it robbery and theft:  
But if you die, who shall against them strive?  
Both Africa lost, and we of hope are reft:  
Wherefore though for yourself you life abhorred,  
Live for our sake (at least) my sovereign Lord.   

37  
The soldan sure will help your cause t'advance,  
To him you may for men and money send,  
Be sure he will be loath the king of France  
Should nest in Africa, being not his trend:  
If Norandino knew of your mischance,  
He would both men, and horse, and money send,  
The states of Media, Persia, and Armenia,  
With Arabia, will help you with their menie.   

38  
These words than spoke the grave wise man and old,  
To move his Prince a better mind to carry,  
And bade him cheer himself, and still he told,  
What hopes there were (though sure he thought contrary)  
He saw and knew their comfort was but cold,  
That long they use to pray, and sue, and tarry,  

〈◊〉.  Who having lost their crowns, to sue are feign  
To other kings, to help them home again.   

39  

〈…〉.  Both Hannibal and jugurth samples be,  
To Princes all, that trust in foreign aid,  
With Lodowick Sforce whom this last age did see,  
Unto a stronger Lodwicke foul betrayed:  
Wherefore unto that sentence I agree,  
That Duke Alfonso of Ferrara said,  
A greater sign of folly is not shown,  

〈◊〉.  Then trusting others force, distrust ones own.   

40  
Wherefore in that conflict and bitter war,  
In which he found Christ's Vicar not his friend,  
And that the Venice state with him did larre,  
And he that promised him to defend,  
From Italy was driven and absent far,  
Yet never would Alfonso condescend,  
To put himself in other men's subjection,  
And leave his state to foreign powers protection.   

41  
But Agramant of comfort all bereft,  
Forsook the shore, and launched to the deep,  
To think in what estate his Realm was left,  
Does make him bitterly to wail and weep,  
From right hand now they sailed unto the left,  
And Eastward all the night their course did keep,  
Until a storm that rose within a while,  
Did cause them harbour in a little I'll.   

42  
A little Isle void of inhabitants,  
But full of Hates, and Coneys, and of Dear,  
With coverts great, of trees and slender plants,  
That had not been cut down in many a year:  
Else there was nothing to supply their wants,  
Only some tokens plainly did appear,  
That fishers used there their nets to dry,  
The while the fish in sea do quiet lie.   

43  
Here only in the harbour they did find,  
A ship that had been weatherbeaten sore,  
Gradasso forced by contrary wind, 
Gradasso.   
Came in that ship from Arly late before,  
With princely gesture, and behaviour kind,  
Each king salutes the tother on the shore;  
For well they loved together, and were late,  
Fellows in arms near Paris walls and gate.   

44  
The king of Sericane with no small grief,  
Did hear the story of their late distress,  
And which did comfort Agramanté chief,  
His person offered these harms to redress,  
But that he shall in Egypt find relief,  
He greatly doubts, and thinketh nothing less,  
Pom●eys example teacheth you (he said) 
Pompey berraied in Egypt.   
That banished men find there but sorry aid.   

45  
But sigh the case so stands, and that you say,  
English Astolfo with a Nubian host,  
And mad Orlando, who this other day  
As I did hear, for love his wit had lost,  
Have done such hurt, I have bethought a way,  
That at this time I think will profit most:  
I will Orlando challenge hand to hand,  
Who (sure I am) in my hands cannot stand.   

46  
Were he once dead, the rest I count as straw,  
And for the Nubians, though I cannot dream  
How they should come, yet know I how to draw  
Them back again from yours, to their own Ream  
Those other Nubians, whom a divers law  
Sunders from these, as well as Nilus' stream,  
Shall with Arabian and Macrobian forces 
The Arabian horse is of great account.   
Assail them, (these have gold, & those good horses,   

47  
The king of Africa praised this offer kind,  
And called it a good and blessed storm,  
That caused him such a friend as this to find,  
And thanks him for his offer: but the form  
Of it (he said) doth no whit please my mind,  
No thought thereby I might all harms reform,  
And that I might Biletta town regain,  
I would not do mine honour such a stain.   

48  
If any man must challenge him, than I  
It is, that am in honour tie unto it,  
And whether I shall kill or else shall die,  
I am resolved, surely I will do it:  
Nay then sir (said Gradasso) I will try  
Another way, if you assent but to it,  
We two will make one challenge thus: to fight  
Against Orlando and some other knight.   

49  
So I be one (then Agramant replied)  
I care not, though I second be or furst,  
For in the world is not a man beside,  
To trust whose courage more than yours, I durst.  
Sobrino that stood all the while aside,  
Into such speech, upon the sudden burst,  
Hath age (quoth he) brought me in such contempt,  
To be excluded from so brave attempts   

50  

Look in the Moral of this.  Disgrace me not so much, to leave out me,  
Age hath not ta'en away my vigour clean,  
Skill and experience good companions be,  
Age knoweth whatsoever youth hath been;  
Wherefore let me be one, and you shall see,  
That I am stronger, than perhaps you ween:  
To this request of his they soon agree,  
And so they send their challenge three to three.   

51  
They send a Herald, as it is theuse,  
The challenge to Orlando stout to bear,  
With number like to meet at Lippaduse,  
And so by combat, end all matters there:  
The while each side should grant the other truce,  
And all acts of hostility forbear;  
This Lippadusa is a little I'll,  
Distant from Afric shore some twenty mile.   

52  
The Herald made good haste, and went apace,  
And used all help of oars and sails he could,  
And coming to Orlando with good grace,  
His message and the challenge plain he told:  
Amids Biserta in the market place,  
He found him parting sums of coin and gold,  
(Of that same sacked town the many spoils)  
Unto his men for guerdon of their toils.   

53  
Now when Orlando this brave challenge hard,  
He did accept it, and did much rejoice.  
And gave unto the Herald in reward,  
Of many sumptuous gifts great store and choicer  
He knew before the death of Mandricard,  
And heard of Durindan by common voice,  
How that Gradasso had it, whom to find,  
A voyage unto th'Indies he assigned.   

54  
But knowing that he need not go so far,  
And that his great good fortune so had wrought,  
That he should send to offer single war,  
Whom he far of had purposed to have sought;  
He now doth hope that long they should not bar  
Him of his sword, that he so dear had bought,  
Eke Brighadore he hopes now to regain,  
That did in Agramantés hand● remain.   

55  
He chooseth for hi● friends to take his part,  
In this so great and dangerous a fray,  

O●●uero cousin to Orlando.  His cousin, and that faithful Brandimart,  
Both whom he oft law tried before that day;  
Armours and horse, and swords on every part,  
He seeks to get for them the best he may,  
For none of them had armour of his own,  
As I before this time have made it known.   

56  
Orlando when he first of all fell mad,  
Lost both his sword and armour that same hour,  
The tothers twain, the Sarzan taken had,  
And now they were safe locked up in a tower:  
In Africa their armour was but bad,  
The wars in France did daily theirs devour:  
They seldom had in those parts any store,  
And Agramant what was, had had before▪   

57  
Such as he could, though it were old and rusty,  
He caused to be scowrd and furbished new,  
And every day with his companions trusty,  
He talked of the fight that should ensue.  
One day, as in a morning fresh and lusty,  
They walked upon the shore, they saw in view  
A great ship under sail with treble top,  
Sail to the shore, without all stay or stop.   

58  
No sailors, passengers, nor any guide,  
Within the ship to be discovered were,  
But as the tempest drove her and the tide,  
She came, 
He comes to 〈◊〉 again in the next book, 〈◊〉 24. staff.  and safely so arrived there:  
But here a while the empty ship shall bide,  
And these three knights, because the love I bear  
Unto Rogero and Renaldo both,  
To overpass them longer makes me loath.   

59  
You heard how they themselves aside did draw, 
Roger●.   
And of their own accords their combat cease,  
When as they saw, against all right and law,  
On either side the battle to increase:  
They were so earnest, neither of them saw  
Which side was first, that broke their vowed peace:  
Wherefore they ask of those that near them came,  
Which king of this foul breach should have the blame.   

60  
Rogero had a valiant trusty man,  
That served him with faithfulness and care,  
Who never since the combat first began,  
Had lost the sight of him, and being ware  
Of this new breach, with all the speed he can,  
He did his master's sword and horse prepare,  
And brought it him, and wished him to use it,  
But for that day Rogero did refuse it.   

61  
Howbeed from thence he did his course direct,  
And promise with Renaldo doth renew,  
That if his king were fi●st did oath neglect,  
And showed himself in promise so untrue,  
That he would leave him and his wicked sect;  
This said, he bad Renaldo then adieu,  
Demanding all he met, who was in fault,  
Of this ungodly and unjust assault.   

62  
Of all the world he hears it plainly spoken,  
How that of youthful Agramantés part,  
The law of arms, and late sworn truce was broken  
Which now was turned unto his loss and smart:  
Yet thinks he, men would deem it were a token  
In him of faint or of unfaithful hart,  
To leave his Master in so great distress,  
Although his falsehood had deserved no less.   

63  
The thought thereof drove him to no small muse,  
If better 'twere for him to go or tarry,  
If he do go, he much shall her abuse  
Whom he so oft had promised to marry;  
Again he thinketh that he cannot choose,  
In his return to Africa but miscarry,  
He knows how perjury offendeth God, 
〈◊〉.   
How over it ay hangs a heavy rod.   

64  
On other side, he fears the great disgrace,  
Men would impute to him his Lord to leave,  
And think it comes of fearful heart and base:  
What if some men perhaps his excuse receive,  
When they do know, and understand the case?  
Yet most will say, he doth his Lord deceive:  

〈◊〉.  And that a man such promise may forsake,  
As at the first, unlawful was to make.   

65  
All that same day, and all that night ensuing,  
He did the matter with himself debate,  
His love, his Lord, on either side renewing  
The doubtful question, each in divers rate:  
But noble mind, the greater shame eschewing,  
Chose lastly to relieve his master's state,  
Much loved he Bradamant, much thought he on her,  
But more he loved his duty and his honer.   

66  
Wherefore resolved to depart the Ream,  
He sought at Arly, ships him to transport,  
But neither at the sea, nor in the stream,  
Could he there find a ship of any sort,  
For Agramaut in haste and fear extreme,  
Had all from thence, or burnt them in the port,  
Which when Rogero once did understand,  
He went unto Marsilia-ward by land.   

67  
In Arly, nor from Arly all the way,  
He saw no living Turk, but many a corpse,  
He mindeth at Marsilia, if he may,  
To get a ship, by fair means or by force,  
That into Africa shall strait convey  
Him and Frontino, his well tried horse:  
But while such thoughts he in his mind contrived,  
Great Dudon with his navy there arrived.   

68  
That Dudon, whom king Agramant on seas  
Met to his cost, when erst his men were slain:  
He fled, his friends ta'en prisoners, and in theale  
Seven kings that erst in Africa did reign;  

〈…〉.  A man as then, might hardly cast a pease  
Into that stream, or any little grain,  
The Navy, and the prizes, in such number,  
Did so the river pester up, and cumber.   

69  
But Dudon self was newly come on land,  
And his chief prisoners he had set on shore,  
And as in way of triumph made them stand,  
The chief behind, the meaner set before,  
With soldiers guarded of his choicest band,  
Who with their warlike voices evermore,  
Made that same town, and all the places round,  
Of Dudons' praise, and Dudons' name to sound.   

70  
Rogero when he saw these bands appear,  
First thought it was the fleet of Agramant,  
But when as he approached now more near,  
He saw how much his guess of truth did want;  
He sees his captives friends, with heavy cheer,  
Bambyrage, Agricalt, and Ferurant,  
Balastro, Rimedont, and Manilard,  
And Nasamon, that wail their hap so hard.   

71  
Rogero●ould ●ould by no means it endure,  
To see in misery his noble friends,  
He doubts his prayer no succour can procure,  
And therefore he to try his force intends:  
His lance he presently doth put in ure,  
With which not few unto the ground he sends;  
His sword he draws, and therewith in short space,  
He doth an hundred hurt, kill, maim, displace.   

72  
Now Dudon hears the noise, the harm doth see,  
Done by Rogero, yet to him unknown,  
He sees his men displaced and foiled be,  
And by one only man their hurt is grown:  
He takes his horse, and to that end that he  
May venge these harms, or join thereto his own,  
He setteth in his rest, a mighty lance,  
To prove himself a Palladine of France.   

73  
He bids his men in order to retire,  
That of the field they two may have good scope:  
Rogero, that to rescue did desire  
His friends and now had put them in some hope:  
And seeing virtuous Dudon did aspire,  
In combat hand to hand with him to cope,  
Did deem he was the Captain chief and guide,  
And with great courage toward him did ride.   

74  
First Dudon came, but when he nearer came,  
And saw Rogero had no spear in sight,  
He cast away his own, as counting shame  
To use advantages in any fight.  
Then saith Rogero to himself, this same  
Is token of a most brave minded knight;  
And sure, except mine aim be much amiss,  
One of the Palladines of France he is.   

75  
Wherefore he minds, ere any more ensue,  
Or any force of either part were done,  
To learn his name: and ask him, he knew  
How that he was the Dane Vggeros son;  
Now (saith good Dudon) let me know of you  
Your name, before our combat be begun:  
Rogero in like sort him satisfied,  
And so they both each other then defied.   

76  
Now Dudon had that Axe or iron Mace,  
Wherewith he won such fame in many fights,  
As proved him to be of that same race  
Of Palladines, so brave and worthy knights:  
Rogero hath the sword that cuts apace,  
And frustrateth all charms, where ere it lights,  
So that he had the vantage, had he used it,  
But for that time, it seemed he refused it.   

77  
The cause was this, he was aseard perchance,  
It would offend his loving Bradamant,  
For being skilful in the lines of France,  
He knew that Dudons' mother washer Ant:  
So though this conquest might his name advance,  
He doubts her love, it may not little daunt:  
For Turpin thinks, this was the only reason,  
That Dudon scaped killing at that season.   

78  
Rogero never foined, and seldom strake,  
But flatling, and his sword was so good steel,  
The back so thick, as it no hurt did take,  
Yet oft therewith he made good Dudon feel  
Such thundering knocks, at caused his head to ache,  
And made him ready many times to reel,  
But least much reading may annoy your eyes,  
To lay this book aside I you advise.   

Moral.  In Agramant that from being so victorious, fell into so great extremity, Princes may consider the great mutability of Fortune: or to speak more truly and Christianly, they may see how God can overthrow them, when in their own conceits they are at the very highest. In that their folly is dispraised that trust to others protection, and stand not upon their own strength, the lamentable examples of many Princes that we have heard of in this age, and some that we have seen, may prove the truth of that principle; nor doth it only hold in Princes affairs, but even in the case of meaner subjects, according as a good friend of mine, perhaps upon some good, or (peradventure) bad experience of his own, wrote many years since: 
If you be wise, this rule well mind,  
Trust none for you to sue or pray,  
Not friend most fast, nor kin most kind,  
In that yourself can do or say.  Further whereas Sobrino notwithstanding his age, is chosen to be one of the three in the challenge, offering himself thereto, we may note thereby, that old men are not only to be honoured for their wisdoms, but also employed in service for their constant courage, if themselves be willing thereto, and not to be contemned or scoffed, (a vice that our time is too much given unto (specially by young men that think they know all things, and indeed know less than nothing. It is a tale well ●●●●ne, and worthy to be well marked, how one day, the people of Athens being set in their theatre to behold plays, two ol● men came in, & no man once offered to give them place, till they came where the Lacedaemonian Ambassadors sat: they strait rose, and in reverence of their grey heads not knowing the men, they gave them place, which act when the people Commended with great applause, the sorenamed Ambassadors gave them that pretic tuch, which hath ever since stuck by them; That the Athenians knew what was honest and commendable, but would give others leave to do it.  

History.  In the first staff of this book, he useth three similitudes to this effect, as we say in English, to fling water into the Teams 
To bear pots (as is said) to Samos I'll,  
(Where earthen vessels in great store are wrought)  
Or Owls to Athens, Crocodyles to Nile.  Of Samos vessels I will recite only that verse that was made of Agathocles: 
Fama est, sictilibus ornasse Agathoclea regem  
Atque abacum Samio saepe onerasse luto,  
Fercula gemmatis cum poneret horrida vasis,  
Et misceret opes, pauperiemque simul  
Querenti causam, respondit rex ego qui sum  
Sicaniae, figulo sum genitore natus.  
Fortunam reverenter habe, quicunque repent  
Dives, ab exili progrediere loco.  Concerning the Owls of Athens, Tully useth the phrase Hoc est Athenas noctuam mittam. But the saying rose not so much for the plenty of those birds, as because they had a coin stamped with the same; as appears in Plutarch in the life of Lysander, where it was laid to the charge of a grèat officer named Gilippus, that he roosted too many Owls in the penthouse of his house, which was indeed, money that he had stole in that kind of coin, and hidden there.  
The Crocodiles of Nilus are famous, neither are any of those beasts in any other river, but one in Africa called Senega that falls into the Atlantic Ce. amand because it hath Crocodiles, some hold it for an arm of Nilus, though, in my opinion, with as little reason, as some say Lundy the Isle between Cornwall and Wales, to be part of Ireland, because it hath no snakes in it. Of the Crocodile I count this worth the noting, that being bred of an egg, he groweth to be twelve or fourteen foot long, which no creature doth beside. Hannibal being overcome by Scipio, fled to Antiochus, and doubting of by sickle disposition went to Prusia king of Bithynia, who by his counsel and policy overcame Eumenes in a sea fight, which benefit and service notwithstanding, the said Prusia would have betrayed him to the Romans, but Hannibal seeing no means of escape, took poison, which he carried about him of purpose in a ring, and so made away himself.  
jugurth likewise betaking himself to the protection of Boccus king of Mauritania his son in law, was by him taken and bound, and delivered to Sylla, who carried him to Marius, in whose triumph he was after led at Rome, and forced (as some write) to leap off an high arch, or as other will have it, starved after inprison.  
Pompey being vanquished by Caesar, fled to Egypt to Ptolomey, whose father had been much beholding in times passed to Pompey, but he for fear of Caesar's displeasure made his head to be cut of.  

Allegory.  In Rogero that notwithstanding all his oaths and promises to marry Bradamant, and become a Christian, yet with a regard of worldly reputation is carried away, and taketh shipping into Africa, may be allegorically understood, how our sense and understanding, not having the help of grace to confirm it, is carried away into the sea of errors, and t●●ssed with waves of divers passions, and in the end suffers shipwreck as here Rogero did, though after delivered by prayer and faith, as is showed in the next book.  

Allusion.  The great peril that Brandimart was in, leaping of the wall of Biserta into the town, alludes to the like fact of Alexander, who was in the like peril at the City of Ossidracus in India; where also (as justin testifieth) he received a very dangerous wound.  
The end of the annotations upon the 40. book.   

  

THE XLI. BOOK  
THE ARGUMENT.  
His prisoners Dudon to Rogero gives,  
Who in a tempest all were drowned quite,  
Rogero only escapes the storm, and lives,  
And then is Christened, and belleves aright.  
Near Lippadusas' steep and craggy clyves,  
Six valiant knights, a combat fierce do fight,  
Where Sobrine hurt, the marquess lame on ground,  
Good Brandimart receives a deadly wound.  

1  

Simile.  THat odor sweet wherewith an amorous youth  
Of either sex, their garments do perfume,  
Or head or beard, when (full of loving ruth)  
In flames of Cupid's fire they do consume:  
We say that odor perfect was in truth,  
And of his goodness we do much presume,  
If so a good while after it be felt,  
And that the sweetness be long after smelled.   

2  

Simile. The Icarus was not son of Dedilus, but of Bacchus.  That pleasant juice that Icarus unwife,  
Did cause his men (to his great harm) to taste,  
And did the Gauls to Italy entice,  
Where they committed so great spoil and waste,  
Was doubtless perfect good, and of great price,  
If so at twelumonths' end it pleasant last.  
The tree that doth his leaves in winter nourish,  

Simile.  Without all question did in summer flourish.   

3  
The bounty that so many hundred year,  

Horace sauh, 〈…〉 forsibus. Est in lunencis est in equis patris 〈◊〉 etc. That virtue is clemency and gratefulness.  In your most Princely stock did ever shine,  
Is to the world an open proof and clear,  
That he, from whom was first derived your line,  
Was sure a great, and worthy minded Pear,  
And had that noble virtue and divine,  
Which chiefly makes a man so rare and odd,  
As in that one, they most resemble God.   

4  
I showed you in the book that went before,  
How good Rogero took great care and heed,  
That as in other acts he showed great store  
Of virtues rare, that other men exceed,  
So in this fight he showed as much or more,  
Then he had done in any other deed:  
With noble mind ambitious to all good,  
For glory thirsting still, but not for blood.   

5  
Good Dudon found (for well discern he might)  
How that Rogero him to hurt forbore,  
How though he had great vantage in the fight,  
Yet that to use the same he still did spare;  
Wherefore though he were ouermatcht in might,  
Yet therewithal he showed this special care,  
That though Rogero were in force superior,  
Himself in curtsy would not be inferior.   

6  
Perdie sir let (saith he) our combat cease,  
Your curtsy hath already conquered me,  
I cannot win, and therefore seek I peace;  
And I (saith other) will to peace agree:  
I only crave this grace, that you release,  
Those seven, whom standing there in bonds I see,  
Those were the kings, whom late near Afrique shore  
Had taken been a day or two before.   

7  
At his request thus Dudon gave remission,  
But ere they went, he made them first to swear,  
That neither they, nor none by their permission,  
'Gainst any Christian state, should armour bear;  
He gave them also leave on like condition,  
To take the choicest vessel that was there,  
Who no convenient season overslipping,  
For Africa immediately took shipping.   

8  
Thus had those kings their ransoms all remitted,  
And with Rogero shipped themselves that day,  
And then to faithless winds themselves committed,  
They weigh their anchors, and their sails display:  
A friendly gale at first their journey fitted,  
And bore them from the shore full far away:  
But afterward within a little season,  
The wind discovered his deceit and treason.   

9  

〈…〉.  First from the poop, it changed to the side,  
Then to the prore, at last it whirled round,  
In one place long it never would abide,  
Which doth the Pilots wit and skill confound:  
The surging waves swell still in higher pride,  
While Proteus flock did more and more abound,  
And seem to them as many deaths to threaten,  
As that ships sides with divers waves are beaten.   

10  
Now in their face the wind, strait in their back,  
And forward this, and backward that it blows,  
Then on the side it makes the ship to crack,  
Among the Mariner's confusion grows;  
The Master ruin doubts, and present wrack,  
For none his will, nor none his meaning knows,  
To whistle, beckon, cry, it nought avails,  
Sometime to strike, sometime to turn their sails.   

11  
But none there was could hear, nor see, nor mark,  
Their ears so stopped, so dazzled were their eyes,  
With weather so tempestuous and so dark,  
And black thick clouds, that with the storm did rise  
From whence sometime great ghastly flames did spark,  
And thunderclaps, that seemed to rend the skies:  
Which made them in a manner deaf and blind,  
That no man understood the Master's mind.   

12  
Nor less, nor much less fearful is the sound,  
The cruel tempest in the tackle makes,  
Yet each one for himself some business found,  
And to some special office him betakes:  
One this untied, another that hath bound,  
He the Main bowling, now restrains, now slakes:  
Some take an oar, some at the pump take pain,  
And power the sea into the sea again.   

13  

〈…〉  Behold a horrible and hideous blast,  
That Boreas from his frozen lips doth send,  
Doth backward force the sail against the mast,  
And makes the waves unto the skies ascend:  
Then broke their oars and rudder eke at last,  
Now nothing left from tempest to defend,  
So that the ship was swayed now quite aside,  
And to the waves laid open her naked side.   

14  
Then all aside the staggering ship did reel,  
For one side quite beneath the water lay,  
And on the other side the very keel,  
Above the water plain discern you may.  
Then thought they all hope past, & down they kneel  
And unto God to take their souls they pray,  
Worse danger grew then this, when this was past,  
By means the ship 'gan after leak so fast.   

15  
The wind, the waves, to them no respite gave,  
But ready every hour to overthrow them,  
Oft they were hoist so high upon the wave,  
They thought the middle region was below them;  
Oft times so low the same their vessel drove, 
Vir. 1. Aenead Praeseniemque 〈…〉 omnia moriem.   
As though that Charon there his boat would show the  
Scant had they time and power to fetch their breath,  
All things did threaten them so present death   

16  
Thus all that night they could have no release,  
But when the morning somewhat nearer drew,  
And that by course, the furious wind should cease,  
(A strange mishap) the wind then fiercer grew,  
And while their troubles more and more increase,  
Behold a rock stood plainly in their view,  
And right upon the same the spiteful blast,  
Bore them perforce, which made them all aghast.   

17  
Yet did the master by all means assay, 
They that have been at the sea do understand these phrases   
To steer out roomer, or to keep aloof,  
Or at the least to strike sails if they may,  
As in such danger was for their behoof.  
But now the wind did bear so great a sway,  
His enterprises had but little proof:  
At last with striving yard and all was torn,  
And part thereof into the sea was borne.   

18  
Then each man saw all hope of safety past,  
No means there was the vessel to direct,  
No help there was, but all away are cast,  
Wherefore their common safety they neglect,  
But out they get the ship-boat, and in haste,  
Each man therein his life strives to protect,  
Of King, nor Prince no man takes heed or note,  
But well was he could get him in the boat.   

19  
Among the rest, Rogero doth suppose  
The safest way to be, to leave the ship,  
And being in his doublet and his hose,  
He nimbly down into the boat did skip,  
But after him so great a number goes,  
Before they could the rope unwind or slip,  
The boat at length did sink with overlading,  
And to the bottom carried all her lading.   

20  
'twas lamentable then to hear the cries,  
Of companies of every sort confused,  
In vain to heaven they lift their hands and eyes,  
And make late vows, as in such case is used,  
For over them the wrathful sea doth rise,  
As though to give them ear it had refused,  
And made them hold their peace by hard constraint,  
And stopped the passage whence came out the plaint.   

21  
Some swam a while, some to the bottom sank,  
Some float upon the wave, though being ded,  
Rogero for the matter never shrank,  
But still above the water keeps his head,  
And not far off he sees that rocky bank,  
From which in vain he and his fellows fled:  
He thither laboureth to get with swimming,  
In hope to get upon the same by climbing.   

22  
With legs and arms he doth him so behave,  
That still he kept upon the floods aloft,  
He blows out from his face the boisterous wave,  
That ready was to overwhelm him oft.  
This while the wind aloof the vessel drove,  
Which huld away with pace but slow and soft,  
Fró those, that while they thought their death to shun  
Now died perhaps before their glass was run.   

23  
O hopes of men uncertain, vain and frail,  
The ship that all forsook; as quite forlorn,  
When all her wont guides and helps did fail,  
Her sailors drowned, and all her tackle torn,  
A safe course held with broken mast and sail,  

He turns to Rogero again in the 47 staff of 〈◊〉 book.  And by an Eddie from the rock was borne,  
And e'en as if the storm had changed his mind,  
It went with merry gale afore the wind.   

24  
And where with mariners it went awry,  
Now wanting them, it went to Africa right,  
And came on land unto Biserta ny,  
And gently on the sands it did alight,  

Orlando.  What time Orlando then was walking by,  
Conferring with his fellows of their fight,  
The which was undertaken by them three,  
Against three Princes of no mean degree.   

25  
And for they saw the ship was fast on ground,  
They took a boat and went on her aboard,  
With mind to question whither she was bound,  
Or what good merchandise she can afford;  
But under hatches lading none they found,  
Save good Rogeros' armour, horse, and sword,  
Which he behind him left, when in bad taking,  
He took the boat, the ship itself forsaking.   

26  
Orlando viewed them well with good regard,  
And having chiefly marked the noble blade,  
He knew it was that famous Ballisard,  
With which he did some years before invade,  

All this hath reference to B●●●●. does book.  Fallarius garden, spite of all her guard,  
Who by strong charms, the sword and garden made  
It may be you er this have heard the tale,  
And how this sword from him Brunello stale.   

27  
And after to the good Rogero gave it,  
Who late had left it in this woeful wrack,  
Glad was Orlando now again to have it,  
That oft had trial both of edge and back;  
He deemed that God, did e'en of purpose save it,  
Now to supply therewith his present lack:  
And after oft he said, and thought indeed,  
That God did send it him at so great need.   

28  
At so great need, when as he was to fight,  
Against Gradasso king of Sericane,  
Who had, beside his great and passing might,  
Renaldoes horse, and fearful Dudrindane.  
Rogeros' armour though it looked bright,  
Yet was it not as thing so precious ta'en,  
As being prisd more for the sumptuous show,  
Then for the goodness, which they did not know.   

29  
And sith himself for armour did not care,  
And never did the dint of weapon fear,  
He doth that armour to his cousin spare,  
But not the sword, for that himself doth wear:  
The horse, that was of shape and goodness rare,  
Had Brandimart, and thus divided were,  
Among these three, in guerdon of their pains,  
An equal share, and portion in the gains.   

30  
Now each prepared against the day of fight,  
Brave furniture, with cost of many a crown:  
Orlando on his quarter, bare in sight,  
High Babel's tower with lightning stricken down: 
Look in the 〈◊〉.   
His cousin had a Lime hound argent bright,  
His Lime laid on his back, he couching down,  
The word or Mot was this, until he cometh,  
The rest was rich, and such as him becometh.   

31  
But Brandimart, who as I erst made mention,  
Had heard his father's death, went all in black:  
Of braveries he now had no intention,  
Left men might think, he did discretion lack,  
He eared for no device, nor new invention,  
Nor 〈…〉 clothing on his back,  
He 〈…〉 one border richly set  
〈…〉, but darkened over with a net.   

32  
A net that Fiordeliege his dearest Queen,  
With her own hands against that day did make, 
Fiordeliege,   
But neither then, nor all the time between,  
That first she undertook it for his sake,  
Till she had done it, was she ever seen  
To laugh, or smile, or any joy to take:  
Her heart still heavy was, her look still sad,  
And yet herself did know no cause she had.   

33  
But still in fear, and still in doubt she is,  
Her spouse by death, shall now from her be sunderd:  
Oft times herself hath seen him be, ere this,  
In greater fights, an hundred and an hundred,  
Yet never did her heart so give amiss,  
Wherefore at her own fear she greatly wondered:  
And e'en that reason made her fear the more,  
Because she was not used to fear before.   

34  
Now when each thing in order fit was set,  
The champions three were shipped with their horses:  
Unto Astolfo and to Sansonet,  
The charge was left of all those Christian forces,  
But doleful Fiordeliege, although as yet  
To hide her sorrow, she herself enforces,  
Yet when the wind away the vessel bears,  
She bursteth out to open cries and tears.   

35  
With Sansonet Astolfo took much pain,  
To bring her to her chamber from the shore,  
Who lying on her bed, she still doth plain,  
That she hath lost her spouse for evermore:  
To seek to comfort her it was in vain,  
For talking made her fear increase the more,  
But now the worthy champions in this while,  
Were safe arrived at Lippadusa I'll.   

36  
No sooner set they foot upon the land,  
But (on the Eastern side) they pitched a tent,  
Because perhaps that part was nearest hand,  
Or else upon some politic intent:  
On other side, with such an equal band,  
Came Agramant: but sith this day was spent,  
They all agreed all fight to be forborn,  
Until the very next ensuing morn.   

37  
A watch was charged then on either part,  
That neither side the tother may deceive,  
But ere it yet was dark, king Brandimart,  
(Though not without Orlando's special leave)  
Doth mean a wondrous favour to impart  
To Agramant, if he the same receive:  
For why the tone the tother oft had seen  
As friends, and had in France together been.   

38  
Now after joining hands, and salutation,  
The noble minded Brandimart begun  
To use unto the Turk an exhortation,  
That with Orlando he the combat shun:  
Affirming unto him with protestation,  
Would he believe but in the Virgin's son,  
That he both present peace would then assure him,  
And all his Realms in Africa safe procure him.   

39  

〈…〉.  Because you are, and have been dear to me,  
Therefore (he saith) this counsel you I give,  
And sith I follow it myself you see,  
Thereby you may be sure I it believe;  
Christ is my God, a God indeed is he;  
An Idol Mawmet is, that doth not live:  
Wherefore dear Sir, I do desire to move  
From errors foul, yourself and all I love.   

40  
This is indeed the way of truth and life,  
All other ways but this, do lead astray;  
Why should you live in error and in strife,  
When in true peace, and knowledge live you may?  
Tempestuous cares this world hath ever rife,  
And if your present state you would but way,  
You plainly may perceive your venture such,  
As you to win but little hazard much.   

41  

〈…〉 of 〈◊〉.  What if you could the son of Milo kill?  
Or us that come with him to win, or die?  
Think you that then you shall have all you will?  
Think you your state you can restore thereby?  
No sure, the state of Charles is not so ill,  
But that he quickly can our lack supply;  
Wherefore dear Sir, unto my counsel listen,  
All would be well, if you would be a Christian.   

42  
Thus much said Brandimart, and more beside  
He would have said, to peace him to exhort,  
Save that with scornful speech, and full of pride,  
Fierce Agramant this wife, did cut him short;  
A madness mere it is (thus he replied)  

〈…〉.  In you, or any man that in such sort,  
Will counsel and advise men what to do,  
Not being called of counsel thereunto.   

43  
And where you say, to this love moved you chief,  
That you have borne, and still do bear to me,  
Herein you pardon must my hard belief,  
While in Orlando's company you be;  
I rather think despair, and spite, and grief,  
Hath moved you hereunto, because you see,  
Your soul is damned to eternal fire,  
To draw us thither with you you desire.   

44  
What victories, or else what overthrows,  
I shall hereafter have, God only knoweth,  
Not you nor I, nor yet Orlando knows,  
God only where he lift, the same bestoweth●  
But as for me, no fear nor foolish shows,  
Shall daunt my courage, how so ere it goeth,  
Die first I will with torment and with pain,  
Much rather than to yield, my stock to stain.   

45  
Now when you list, depart from hence you may,  
As little thanked, as slenderly rewarded,  
And if to morrow you the Champion play  
No better, nor no more to be regarded,  
Then you have played the Orator to day,  
Orlando sure will be but weakly guarded;  
And these last words, in manner such he said,  
As that thereby much choler he bewrayed.   

46  
Thus parted they, and rested all that night,  
But ready they were all by break of day,  
All armed, and ready for the future fight,  
Small speech was used, no lingriug, nor no stay,  
They couch their spears, & run with all their might:  
But while I tell you of this bloody fray,  
I doubt I do unto Rogero wrong,  
To leave him swimming in the sea so long.   

47  
The gallant youth had laboured many an hour, 
Rogero.   
To swim, and save himself from being drowned,  
The surging wave still threats him to devour,  
But guilty conscience more doth him confound;  
He thinks that God will of his mighty power,  
Sith he foreslowed when he was on ground,  
To be baptizd in waters fresh, and fitter,  
To souse him now in waves both salt and bitter.   

48  
He now remembers he had plighted troth,  
To Bradamant, nor done as he had spoken,  
How to Renaldo he had made an oath,  
And that the same by him was foully broken;  
Most earnestly he now reputes them both,  
And calls to God for mercy, and in token  
Of true contrition voweth out of hand,  
To be baptizd, if ere he come to land.   

49  
And that he would renounce all Turkish laws,  
Nor 'gainst a Christian Prince once weapon carry,  
But serve king Charles, and aid the Church's cause,  
And from the same hereafter not to vary,  
And never seek delay or farther pause,  
His virtuous spouse Dame Brandamant to marry.  
('twas strange) no sooner he this vow had ended,  
But that his strength increased, & swimming mended.   

50  
And where before he greatly was afraid,  
That those same surging waters him would drown,  
He thinketh now they do his swimming aid:  
And sometime rising, sometime going down,  
He passeth on with courage undismayed,  
And scarce he seemed once to wet his crown:  
That so with cunning part, and part with strength,  
He reached to the little I'll at length.   

51  
The rest of all his company was drowned,  
Nor ever was a man of them seen more,  
But by God's only grace, Rogero found  
This little Isle, and clammerd up the shore:  
And finding it a small and barren ground,  
A new fear rose, no less then that before,  
Lest in a place of needful things too seant,  
He should be starved with penury and want.   

52  
But yet with constant mind and unappald,  
Resolved to suffer all that God would send,  
Upon the rock with much a do he crald,  
And got upon the level ground in th' end;  
When lo an aged man, whose head was bald,  
And beard below his girdle did descend,  
That was an Hermit that did there inhabit,  
Came forth to him in godly reverent habit.   

53  
And coming near he cried, o Saul, o Saul,  
Why persecutest thou my people so?  

In the Acts of the Apostles  As erst our Saviour spoke unto Saint Paul,  
Then, when he gave to him that blessed blow.  
Behold how God when pleaseth him can call,  
From sea, from land, from places high and low,  

Sentence.  When you did ween him farthest he was nighest,  
So strong an arm, so long reach hath the highest.   

54  

Of age and devotion ●oo●e in the Moral.  Thus spoke this Hermit so devout and old,  
Who by an Angel in his sleep that night,  
Of good Rogeroes coming was foretold,  
And of all chances should on him alight,  
With all his valiant actions manifold,  
That he had done, and should perform in fight,  
And of his death, and of his noble race,  
That should succeed him after in his place.   

55  
Now (as I said) this wise, this Hermit spoke,  

jugum Christi sua●e.  And part doth comfort him, and part doth check,  
He blameth him, that in that pleasant yoke,  
He had so long deferred to put his neck,  
But did to wrath his maker still provoke,  
And did not come at his first call and beck,  
But still did hide himself away from God,  
Until he saw him coming with his rod.   

56  
Then did he comfort him, and make him know,  
That grace is near denied to such as ask:  
(As do the workmen of the gospel show,  
Receiving pay alike for divers task)  
Provided that our prayer of zeal do grow,  
And serve not as a viser or a mask:  
This did the man of God Rogero tell,  
And so from thence he led him to his cell.   

57  
The cell a chapel had on th' Eastern side,  
Upon the Wester side a grove or berry,  
Forth of the which he did his food provide,  
Small cheer God wot, wherewith to make folk merry  
Yet forty year he had that living tried,  
And yet thereof it seemed he was not weary:  
But eating berries, drinking water clear,  
He had in strength and health lived fourscore year.   

58  
Now kindled had the man of God some wooed,  
And on his board he set a little fruit,  
The youth to dry his clothes, not far of stood,  
For why, to change he hath no other suit;  
Then he by th' old man's teaching understood  
The faith, and how to Christ he must impute  
The pardon of his sins; yet near the later,  
He told him he must be baptizd in water.   

59  
And so he was the next ensuing day,  
And afterward he rested in that place  
A while, and with the man of God did stay,  
Resolving him of every doubtful case:  
Sometime of heaven, and of the later day,  
Sometime of earth, and of his noble race,  
That should in time to come, hold mighty Reams  
As was revealed to him in former dreams.   

60  
And further unto him he doth repeat,  
How his chief house should be surnamed Esté, 
The house of 〈◊〉   
Because in time to come king Charles the great,  
Should say to them in Latin words, Hic este,  
Which is as much to say, be here the seat,  
In which you shall hereafter ever rest ye,  
And many future things to him he told, 
He turns 〈◊〉 to Rogero in the 43. book. 188●   
Which were too long for me now to unfold.   

61  
This while Orlando and king Brandimart,  
With marquess Olivero, 
The combat of the six knight  as I told,  
Met with those three of the contrary part,  
Young Agramanté and Gradasso bold,  
With good Sobrino, who for valiant hart,  
Gives place to few of them, though being old;  
Each spurrres his horse, that ran a wondrous pace,  
And of their blows resounded all the place.   

62  
In this same course, each played his part so well,  
That up to heaven flew shiverd every lance,  
The hideous noise did cause the seas to swell,  
And some report, 'twas heard as far as France;  
Gradasso and Orlando as befell,  
Did meet together, were it choice or chance;  
The match seemed e'en, save that their horses differ,  
And made Gradasso seem to run the stiffer.   

63  
The weaker horse on which Orlando road,  
Was bruised so with this so fearful shock,  
As now he could no longer bear his load,  
But sinking down, lay senseless with the knock;  
Orlando then did make but small abode,  
His courser lying senseless like a stock,  
Sith that with neither rains nor spurs he stirred,  
He left his saddle, and drew forth his sword   

64  
With Agramant the marquess hand to hand  
Did most, between them equal went the game,  
Sobrino was by Brandimartés hand,  
Cast from his horse, I know not how it came,  
But at that time it could not well be scanned,  
If so the horse or horseman were to blame:  
But whether beast or rider wanted force,  
Sobrino certain down was from his horse.   

65  
King Brandimart near offered once to tuch  
Sobrino, when he saw him down in view,  
But to Gradasso that had done as much  
Unto Orlando, in great hast he flew;  
The marquess fight with Agramant was such,  
As which side had the vantage no man knew,  
For when their staves were shiverd all and rent,  
Their axes then they used incontinent.   

66  
Orlando who by hap a horse did lack,  
And saw Gradasso bend another way,  
Whom Brandimart did hold so hardly tack,  
That he enforced him thereby to stay;  
I say the Palladine then looking back,  
Saw old Sobrino standing in his way,  
And toward him he goeth with look so fierce,  
As though his eye, as well as sword could pierce.   

67  
Sobrino 'gainst the force of such a man,  
Sought with his surest ward himself to save,  

〈…〉  And as a Pilot doth the best he can,  
To shun the fury of the surging wave,  
e'en so this well experienced Turk began,  
Himself in this great danger to behave,  
With sword and shield his best defence he made,  
Against the fearful edge of that same blade.   

68  
Which blade, of such an edge, in such an arm,  
No marvel if to pierce it seldom fail,  
Against the which in vain was any charm,  
For though his shield was steeled, his cote of mail,  
Yet quite through shield and armour it did harm,  
To save his shoulder all could not avail.  
But he to wound Orlando was not able,  
For God had made his skin impenetrable.   

69  
The valiant Earl redoubled still his blow,  
And thinks from shoulders off to cut his head,  
He, that the force of Clarimont did know,  

〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 the house 〈◊〉.  Gave backward, or his ground still traversed,  
But in his traversing he was so slow,  
That with one blow he laid him down for dead,  
The blow fell flatling, but with force so main,  
As crushed his helmet, and amazed his brain.   

70  
Down fell Sobrino backward on the ground,  
From whence long time it was ere he arose,  
Orlando thinks that he was safe and sound,  
And that he was stark dead he doth suppose:  
Wherefore since single foe he no where found,  
Unto Gradasso presently he goes,  
To whom king Brandimart in arms, and horse,  
In sword, inferior was, perhaps in force.   

71  
But yet the noble minded Brandimart,  
Upon Rogeros' horse Frontino mounted,  
With that same Saracen so played his part,  
As if his forces he but little counted:  
And sure Gradasso not in skill, not hart,  
But in his sword and armour him surmounted:  
Enforcing him ofttimes to stand aloof,  
Because his armour was of no good proof.   

72  
But good Frontino bore away the bell,  
For being ready to the rider's hand,  
It seemed where ever Durindana fell,  
Frontino had such wit to understand,  
That ever more he did escape it well:  
But all this while it hardly could be scanned,  
In other twain on which side fortune works,  
In Olivero, or the king of Turks.   

73  
Orlando had (as late before I told)  
Left good Sobrino on the ground for ded,  
Wherefore on foot he goes with courage bold,  
To succour Brandimart if ill he sped;  
But in the way by hap he did behold,  
Sobrinos' horse that without rider fled,  
Orlando strait into the saddle vaulted,  
Not looking if he went upright or halted.   

74  
One hand his sword, the tother holds his rain,  
And so he rideth to Gradasso ward,  
Who when he saw him come, did not refrain,  
But to encounter with him strait prepared:  
To fight with one of them, or else with twain,  
It seemed he little reckoned nor cared;  
He minds and hopeth to effect it soon,  
To make them both to think it night ere noon.   

75  
Yet for a while king Brandimart he leaves,  
And turns him to the Earl, and with a thrust  
Whereas his armour weakest he perceives,  
There doth the fierce Gradasso hit him just,  
And entered, but his cunning him deceives,  
Orlando's skin be pierced never must.  
But when with Ballisard Orlando strake,  
His helmet, coat of mail, and shield he broke.   

76  
So that both in his face, his breast, and side,  
He wounded sore the king of Sericane,  
Who marvels much what strange chance did betide  
For never erst such sore hurt he had ta'en:  
He thought there could not be a blade beside  
To pierce his coat, he having Durindane;  
And sure that blow had him dispatched clearly,  
If it had had more strength, or come more nearly.   

77  
He sees that now he must take better heed,  
And not trust armour, but a surer ward,  
To seek to save himself he now hath need,  
And look unto his limbs with more regard:  
Now while twixt them the fight did thus proceed,  
Good Brandimart did see he might be spared,  
Wherefore to breathe himself he then retired,  
Still ready t'ayd each part, if cause required.   

78  
Now had Sobrino long lain in a trance,  
With that same bruise, and with that bloody wound,  
Given him by that great Palladine of France,  
That at two blows had laid him on the ground,  
With much a do he doth himself advance,  
And standing on his feet, and looking round,  
He thought his Master was in weakest case,  
And to his aid he moves his silent pace.   

79  
At Oliveros' back he comes unspide,  
Who sole on Agramant did fix his eyes,  
And that same horse that Oliver did ride,  
He hought behind in such despiteful wise,  
That wanting strength, he fell down on his side,  
And was not able any more to rise:  
And which was worse than his unlooked for fall,  
His foot hung in the stirrup therewithal.   

80  
Sobrino doubled then his blows again,  
Thinking from shoulders off his head to pair,  
But yet the steel made that attempt but vain,  
That Vulcan tempered erst, and Hector ware:  
King Brandimart at Sobrin runs amain,  
When of his doings he was well aware,  
And overthrew him quite, and stoutly smote him,  
But th'old fierce man, soon on his feet up got him.   

81  
And once again at Oliver he flies,  
And once again he thinketh him to kill,  
Or at the least cause him he shall not rise;  
But he that had his better arm at will,  
Laid with his sword about him in such wise,  
As that he kept himself from further ill  
And made his foe, that was of no great strength  
Stand distant from him, almost twice his length.   

82  
The marquess hopes ere long to ease his pain,  
If he can cause Sobrino stand aloof,  
Who bled so fast, as now from fight t'abstain  
He thought it would be best for his behoof:  
Now Olivero all his force doth strain,  
And to get loose he maketh many a proof,  
But still his foot was fast to his great hurt,  
And still the horse lay tumbling in the dirt.   

83  
This while king Brandimart doth go to find  
Traianos' son, and now he hath him found,  
Frontino now before, and strait behind,  
That good Frontino that can turn so round:  
The horse was sure and of a passing kind,  
The Southern kings was ready, strong, and sound:  
He had that famous courser Brigliadore,  
The which Rogero gave him late before.   

84  
But sure the Turk great odds in armour had,  
For he had one of proof, well tried, and sure,  
And Brandimartés was indeed but bad.  
Such as he could in warning short procure,  
Wherefore to change it now he would be glad,  
And that he shall, his heart doth him assure:  
So that he waxed stouter still and bolder,  
Though Agramant had hurt him in the shoulder.   

85  
Gradasso further had about his thy,  
Him given a blow, not to be ta'en in sport,  
But yet the king did so the fight apply,  
And laid on load in so courageous sort,  
As that he wounded his left arm thereby,  
And pricked his right hand (thus they report)  
But all this was but May game and delight,  
Unto Gradassos' and Orlando's fight.   

86  
Gradasso hath Orlando half disarmed,  
And made him with one blow his shield forsake,  
He could not wound him, for his skin was charmed,  
But yet his headpiece on both sides he broke:  
But him Orlando hath in worse sort harmed,  
Beside that hurt of which before I spoke,  
He hath drawn blood of him in many a place,  
As namely in breast, in throat, and in his face.   

87  
Gradasso sees himself with blood besmeared,  
And smarting pain in many places found,  
And sees that Earl like one that nothing feared,  
Stand whole, and quite unwounded safe and sound;  
Wherefore with both his hands his sword he reared,  
With mind to cleave him, rather than to wound,  
And e'en as he desired, with all his strength,  
He strake him on his head, at half sword length.   

88  
And sure had cloued him to the saddle bow,  
Had it another then Orlando been,  
But now as if it had fallen flatling thee,  
The blade rebounded from him bright and clean,  
But yet that Earl was dazed so with the blow,  
I think some stars on ground by him were seen;  
He lost his bridle, and his sword had missed,  
Save that a chain did bind it to his wrist.   

89  
The horse on which the good Orlando road,  
Was eke so scared with the fearful sound,  
As there he durst no longer make abode,  
But on the sands at random runneth round,  
And bears Orlando as a senseless load,  
That with the pain still stood as in a sound,  
And had Gradasso little harder spurred,  
He might have ta'en the Earl ere he had stirred.   

90  
But as he road, he saw king Agramant,  
Unto extremest point of danger brought,  
For why the valiant son of Monodant,  
Had loosed his beaver, and such hold had caught  
Upon his gorget, that but small did want,  
e'en with one stab his last end to have wrought:  
For why the noble minded Christian Prince,  
Had won his sword from him a good while since.   

91  
Gradasso doth no more that Earl pursue,  
But maketh haste king Agramant to aid,  
And unto Brandimart that nothing knew,  
Nor of no such misfortune was afraid,  
He comes behind his back quite out of view,  
And both his hands at once on sword he laid,  
And in that sort, he strake with all his might,  
Full on the helmet of the noble knight.   

92  
Oh heavenly Father grant a resting place  
In Paradise, for this thy Martyr's spirit,  
That having run all his tempestuous race,  
He may with thee an harbour safe inherit.  
Ah Durindan, hadst thou so little grace,  
So ill to quite thy noblest Masters merit,  
That in his sight thou could of life deprive,  
His best and kindest friend he had alive?   

93  
The sword did pierce a double plate of steel,  
That little less was then two fingers thick,  
Good Brandimart 'gan with the blow to reel,  
It pierced had so deep unto the quick,  
His brains all cut therewith he plain did feel,  
And down he fell like one most deadly sick;  
A stream of blood out of the grievous wound,  
Ran forth, and died with crimson all the ground.   

94  
By this Orlando waked, and behild  
His Brandimart that lay now a la mort:  
He sees the Sericane that him had killed,  
This angered him, and grieved him in such sort,  
'twas hard to say which more his stomach filled,  
His wrath or grief; but time to mourn was short,  
That grief gave place, and wrath bore chiefest sway  
But now I think it best a while to stay.   
In this book may be noted the notable fondness of those men, that in avoiding of the less danger, fall into the greater, as 
Moral.  they did that forsook the ship, and leapt into the boat, where they were all cast away, and the ship itself saved. In that Rogero in his extremity of danger, feeleth a remorse of conscience, & strait hath recourse to God by prayer and vow, it is a good precedent for others to do the like, though indeed most men are apt to do so, but all the matter is, to perform the effect of their vow & promise to God after, for that few care for, according to that saying, made a proverb in Italian, 
Scampato il pericolo giabbato il santo,  
When danger is scaped, the Saint is— mocked.  But the example of Rogero may move us to more true devotion; and this speech of the good old Hermit, let every one apply to himself that hath need of it, and it may fortune do him as much good as a sermon; for indeed it is most sweet and comfortable and very true doctrine, and well beseeming the person of a devout old man (as I called him in the 54 staff) for seldom goeth devotion with youth, be it spoken without offence of our Peckedevanted Ministers: as there goes an old tale of three things that a blind man could see, for when his boy told him that there was brought a verse brave horse, then saith the blind man, I see he is far: the boy marveled how he knew it; next he told him, there came by a passing fair woman, than I see she is young (quoth the blind man) well guessed Master said his boy. Lastly, came by a devout preacher: Sir quoth the boy, here comes a good Priest, than he is old said the blind man, and that guess was so right, the boy was afraid his Master had had his eyes again. For indeed age and bodies chastised with fasting and study, are companions of devotion: as a friend of mine was wont to say in Italian, 
Dio mi guarda Da medico rognoso,  
Dio mi guarda Da alchumista stracciato,  
Dio mi guarda Da monacho ingrossato.  God defend me from a mangy Physician, (for the Physician that cannot cure the itch in himself, will hardly cure other greater diseases in another.) From a ragged or beggarly Alchemist, for he that cannot get himself good clothes, will hardly turn lead into gold. From a corpulent or fat fed Friar: for he that feeds his own body fat, is not likely to give of the best spiritual food of the soul.  
In Brandimart that laboureth to persuade Agramant to peace, we may note a noble disposition, and excellent good nature, that being very stout, and treating of peace (as they say) with his sword in his hand, yet endeavoured to take up the qûarrell before it came to blood, which though it be a thankless office many times (as here it happened to Brandimart to be scorned for his labour) yet ought not that to terrify a good mind from so honest an office. And sure the cause why great quarrels rise upon small matters, between great personages, and are afterward so long ere they be reconclied, and so hollowly reconciled at last; is that some of a wicked policy, seek to keep them at variance, thinking it (as the proverb saith) best fishing in troubled waters: but neither S. Peter that was the good fisher of men nor his Master, were of that opinion, but do say contrarily, Beati pacifici.  
Of the house of Este, 
History.  it was first called Ateste, but after (as mine Author hath delivered) it was turned to Este, by reason of that speech, Hic este Domini, and Fornarius writing upon this place affirms the same.  
In the devices or impreises of Orlando and Olivero, 
Allusion.  may be noted the decorum they used, for Orlando being a known and approved warrior, gives a more terrible device, yet referring the honour to God, in most Christian manner, of striking down and confounding his enemies with lightning. Olivero whose device is the spaniel, or lyam hound couching with the word fin che vegna, doth with great modesty show thereby, that the spaniel or hound that is at commandment, waiteth, till the fowl, or dear he stricken, and then boldly leapeth into the water, or draweth after it by land: so he being yet a young man, waited for an occasion to show his value, which being come, he would no longer couch, but show the same.  
In this kind we have had many in our time, as the happy 17. day of November can witness, that have excelled for excellency of device: of which if I should speak at large, it would ask a volume by itself. Myself, have chosen this of Olivero for mine own, partly liking the modesty thereof, partly (for I am not ashamed to confess it) because I fancy the spaniel so much, whose picture is in the device, and if any make merry at it. (as I doubt not but some will) I shall not be sorry for it: for one end of my travel in this work, is to make my friends merry, and besides I can allege many examples of wise men, and some very great men, that have not only taken pictures, but built cities in remembrance of serviceable beasts. And as for dogs, Doctor Caynes a learned Physician and a good man, wrote a treatise in praise of them, and the Scripture itself hath vouchsafed to commend Tobias dog.  
Here end the annotations of the 41. book   

  

THE XLII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Orlando of his conquest takes small joy,  
Which caused him his dearest friend to want:  
Loves divers passions, breed no small annoy,  
To stout Renaldo and good Bradamant:  
She wishing her Rogero to enjoy,  
He th' Indian Queen, but soon he did recant,  
Taught by disdain: at last in Latian ground,  
The Palladine kind entertainment found.  

1  

sword  WHat iron band, or what sharp hard mouthed bit,  
What chain of diamond (if such might be)  
Can bridle wrathfulness and conquer it,  
And keep it in his bounds and due degree?  
When one to us in bonds of friendship knit,  
And dearly loved, before our face we see,  
By violence or fraud to suffer wrong,  
By one for him too crafty, or too strong.   

2  
And if before we can such pang digest,  
We serve sometime from law, and run astray,  
It may be well excused, sith in one's breast,  
Pure reason at such time bears little sway:  
Achilles when with counterfeited crest,  
He saw Patroclus bleeding all the way,  
To kill his killer was not satisfied.  
Except he haled and tore him all beside.   

3  
So now a little since when in his brow,  
Alfonso wounded was with cursed stone,  
And all his men and soldiers thought that now,  
His soul from earth to heaven had been up flone,  

〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 of this book.  They killed and spoiled, they cared whom nor how,  
Strong rampires, walls, to them defence were none,  
But in that fury they put all to wrack,  
Both old and young, and all the town to sack.   

4  
Our men were so enraged with this fall,  
To think they had their Captain lost for ay,  
That to the sword they put both great and small,  
That happened then to come within their way:  
And so their fortune did prevail withal,  
That they the Castle did regain that day,  
In fewer hours, to their great fame and praise,  
Then had the Spaniards got it erst in days.   

5  
It may be, God ordained (as I guess)  
That he that time should wounded be so sore,  
To punish that same sin and foul excess,  
His foes committed had a while before,  
When Vestidell forlorn and in distress,  
Did yield, and should have had his life therefore▪  
Yet was he killed when they had him surprised,  
By men whose greater part were circumcised.   

6  
Wherefore I justly may conclude thus much,  
That nothing can more hotly kindle wrath,  
Then if one shall the life and honour touch,  
Of our dear friend, or do him wrong or scathe.  
Now (as I said) Orlando's grief is such,  
And such occasion of just grief he hath,  
He sees his friend, for lack of better heeding,  
Lie flat on ground, and almost dead with bleeding.   

7  
As the Nomadian Shepherd, 
Simile.  that a Snake,  
Along the grass and herbs hath sliding seen,  
Which late before with tooth most poisoned strake  
His little son, that played upon the green,  
Doth bruise and beat, and kill him with a stake:  
So goes this Earl with blade most sharp and keen  
And yet far more with wrath an choler whet;  
And Agramant, was then the first he met.   

8  
Unhappy he that in his passage stood,  
His sword was gone as I declared before,  
Himself besmeared all with his own blood,  
Brave Brandimart had wounded him so sore;  
Orlando comes, and in his wrathful mood,  
With Ballisard, that pays home evermore,  
He strikes (by fortune were it or by art)  
Just where the shoulders from the head do part.   

9  
Loosed was his helmet, as I erst did tell,  
That like a Poppy quite fell off his head,  
The carcase of the Lybian Monarch fell  
down to the ground, and lay a long stark ded,  
His soul by Charon, ferrie-man of hell,  
To Plut●s house or Stygian lake was led.  
Orlando stayed no whit, but strait prepared,  
To find Gradasso eke with Ballisard.   

10  
But when Gradasso plain beheld and saw,  
Of Agramant the woeful end and fall,  
He felt and unaccustomd dread and awe,  
Who never wont was to fear at all;  
And e'en as if his own fate he foresaw,  
He made the Palladine resistance small:  
Fear had so mazed his head, and dazed his sense,  
That for the blow, he quite forgot his sense.   

11  
Orlando thrust Gradasso in the side,  
About the ribs, as he before him stood,  
The sword came forth a span on other side,  
And to the hilt, was varnished all with blood,  
By that same thrust alone it might be tried,  
That he that gave it was a warrior good,  
That with one thrust did vanquish and subdue,  
The stoutest champion of the Turkish crew.   

12  
Orlando of this conquest nothing glad,  
Doth from his saddle in great haste alight,  
And with a heavy heart and countenance sad,  
He runs unto his dear beloved knight,  
He sees his helmet cut, as if it had  
Been cloven quite with axe (a woeful sight)  
And e'en as if it had been made of glass,  
And not of steel, and plated well with brass.   

13  
The Palladine his helmet then unties,  
And finds the skull clou'n down unto the chin,  
And sees the brain all cut before his eyes;  
Yet so much breath and life remained within,  
That he is able yet before he dies,  
To call to God, for mercy for his sin,  
And pray Orlando join with him in praying,  
And ufe to him this comfortable saying.   

14  
My dear Orlando, see that to our Lord,  
Thou in thy good devotions me commend:  
Likewise to thee commend I my dear Fiorde-  
And liege he would have said, but there did end;  
Strait Angels voices with most sweet accord,  
Were heard the while his spirit did ascend,  
The which dissolved from this fleshly mass,  
In sweetest melody to heaven did pass.   

15  
Orlando though he should rejoice in hart,  
Of this his end so holy and devout,  
Because he knew his loving Brandimart,  
Was taken up to heaven, without all doubt,  
Yet flesh and blood in him so played their part,  
That without tears he cannot bear it out,  
But that he needs must show some change in cheer,  
To lose one more, than any brother dear.   

16  
This while Sobrino bruised in his head,  
And wounded sorely in his side and thy;  
Upon the ground so great a stream had bled,  
It seemed his life in peril was thereby;  
And Olivero little better sped,  
On whom his horse still overthrown did lie,  
He striving, but his striving did not boot,  
To get at liberty his bruised foot.   

17  
And sure it seems he had been worse apaid,  
Had not his doleful cousin quickly come,  
And brought to him, both quick and needful aid,  
Before the pain had him quite overcome:  
His foot that long had in the stirrup stayed,  
Was there withal so void of sense, and numb,  
That when he stood upright, he was not able,  
To touch the ground, much less tread firm & stable.   

18  
So that indeed Orlando in his hart,  
But little joy of so great conquest had,  
He wails the death of his dear Brandimart,  
And that his kinsman was in state so bad:  
Now lay Sobrino, though alive in part,  
Yet with a look so chearlesse and so sad,  
And so much blood his aged veins had bled,  
That doubtless in few hours he had been ded,   

19  
Save that Orlando with compassion moved,  
To see him lie so lost, and so distressed,  
Gate him such needful things as best behoved,  
And charitably made his wounds be dressed:  
So kindly, that some kinsman dear beloved,  
And not his foe, a man might him have guessed:  
Such was this Earls good nature, 
A true praise a noble mind.  fierce in fight,  
But fight once done, from malice free or spite.   

20  
The horse, and bodies of the other twain,  
He took away, and left their men the rest,  
To be disposed to their own private gain,  
Or to inter their Lords, as they thought best.  
But here, that in my story I do feign,  
Frederick Fulgoso (as I hear) hath guest, 
Look in the story.   
Sith at this I'll he late arriving found,  
In all the same no level foot of ground.   

21  
Nor doth he probable it deem or take,  
That six such knights as had in arms no pear,  
On horseback should a combat undertake,  
Where no one foot of plain ground doth appear.  
To which objection I this answer make,  
That then, in times now past seven hundred year,  
Plain ground there was, but now some inundation,  
Or earthquake might procute this alteration.   

22  
Wherefore Fulgoso, honour of thy name,  
Bright Fulgor, causing all thy stock to shine,  
If in this point thou hadst imputed blame  
To me, perhaps before that Prince divine,  
From whom thy countries good and quiet came,  
And did it first to love and peace incline,  
Inform him now, that e'en perhaps in this,  
My tale of truth or likelihood doth not miss.   

23  

〈◊〉 to Or. 〈◊〉 43. 〈◊〉. 144.  This while Orlando looking from the shore,  
A little Frigate did far of deserie,  
That both with sail, and with the help of ore,  
Unto that I'll, seemed in great haste to fly;  
But ere of this I tell you any more,  
I must to France as fast as I can high,  
To see if they be merry there or sad,  
Now they from thence the Turks expulsed had.   

24  

〈◊〉.  First let us see how faithful Bradamant,  
Doth take his absence whom she loveth most,  
Who in his oath, due care of faith did want,  
Which he had ta'en in sight of either host:  
Now sure she thinks his love and faith too scant,  
To hear he quite had left the Christian cost:  
If in his public oath he be unjust,  
Whereto alas, then whereto can she trust?   

25  
And still returning to her former plaints,  
And still bemoaning her unlucky fate,  
With which herself she too too well acquaints,  
She calls herself accursed, and him ungrate,  
Yea blaming God himself, and all his Saints,  
For not redressing this her woeful state,  
She scarce abstains high blasphemy to speak,  
That God unjust, and that Saints powers are weak.   

26  
Then she Melissa (absent) doth reprove,  
And cursed that Oracle's persuasion blind,  
That leapt her in this Labyrinth of love,  
Whence she herself by no means can unwind,  
But to Marsisa all the rest above,  
She open lays her stomach and her mind,  
With her she chides and utters all her choler,  
And yet she prays her comfort this her dolor.   

27  
Marsisa comforts her in all she may,  
And tells her what a virtue Patience is,  
And partly doth excuse Rogeros stay:  
And further giveth her her faith in this,  
That if she find he wilfully delay,  
She will constrain him mend all is amiss,  
Or if she find that he refuse to do it,  
To fight with him and so compel him to it.   

28  
With this she did in part her pain assuage,  
For why it is in sorrow great relief,  
To those of either sex or any age,  
To have some friend, to whom to tell their grief,  
But now if Bradamant be in such rage,  
No less is he that of her house was chief,  
I mean Renaldo, that cannot expulse  
loves fire, from every sinew, vein and pulse.   

29  
I think I need not now to you repeat,  
A thing by me so often told before,  
By name that love and that affection great,  
That to Angelica Renaldo bore:  
Nor did her beauty cause so much his heat,  
As did that spring of which he drank such store,  
Now all the other Palladines were free  
From all their foes, now Cupid's thrall is he.   

30  
An hundred messengers he sends about,  
Himself the while an hundred ways more riding,  
To ask of her, or else to find her out,  
Who hath her now, or where is her abiding.  
At last, because he thinketh out of doubt,  
That Malagige of her can learn some tiding,  
He asketh him (but blushing sore with shame)  
If he knew what of th'Indian Queen became.   

31  
His cousin wonders at so strange a case,  
And in his mind thereon long time he mused,  
That when Renaldo had both time and place,  
Her offers large and kind he still refused,  
When both herself did sue to have his grace,  
And many of his friends persuasions used:  
And Malagige himself among the rest,  
Had proved him oft with prayer and with request.   

32  
The rather eke, because Renaldo then,  
By taking her, had set his cousin free,  
Who then was kept close prisoner in a den,  
And for that cause in peril slain to be;  
He marvels that he now would seek her, when  
No hope, nor cause there was, and further he  
With angry look, did bid him call to mind,  
How in this point he had been too unkind.   

33  
But good Renaldo now quite of tune,  
Pray'th him old quarrels from his mind to move,  
And doth most earnestly him importune,  
Unto his help, his skill and books to prove:  
Which made his cousin so much more presume,  
Upon his reconcilement and true love,  
And promised to assist him if he may,  
And for his answer he prefixed a day.   

34  
And strait from thence he goeth unto the place,  
Where he was wont the spirits to conjure,  
A strong vast cave, in which there was great space,  
The precepts of his Art to put in ure:  
One sprite he calls, that of each doubtful case  
Of Cupid's court, could give him notice sure:  
Of him he asked what bred Renaldoes change,  
By him he heard, of those two fountains strange.   

35  
And how Renaldo by misfortune led,  
First happened of that hateful spring to drink,  
Which his dislike of that fair Lady bred,  
And made her love, and proffered service stink:  
And how again, by some ill star misled,  
He drank of th'other spring, which caused him think  
Her only to be loved and admired,  
Whom erst he hated more than cause required.   

36  
Moreover he to Malagigis showed,  
How that same famous Indian Queen (nay quean)  
Had on a Pagan youth herself bestowed,  
Of parentage, of state, of living mean:  
And how from Spain they in a galley rowed,  
All Christendom and Spain forsaking clean,  
And passing both with safety and with ease,  

Look in the story.  (In venturous barks of Catalyn) the seas.   

37  
Now when Renaldo for his answer came,  
His learned cousin seeks him to persuade,  
Unto some better thought his mind to frame,  
Nor further in this gulf of love to wade;  
Alleging what a slander and a shame,  
It was to fancy one herself had made,  
Not like a Queen, but like a vile maid Marian,  
A wife, (nay slave) unto a base Barbarian.   

38  
In fine he said, she was to th'Indies gone,  
With her Medoro, and was wellnigh there:  
Renaldo not a little musd thereon,  
Yet all the rest he could with patience bear,  
And for the pain, he counts it small or none,  
So he at last might find her any where;  
Wherefore of it he had no care not keep,  
Nor could that make him once to break his sleep   

39  
But when he heard that one of birth so base  
Had with his mistress laid his knife a board,  
It seemed this strake him speechless in the place,  
He was not able to pronounce a word:  
His heart did quake within, his lips like case  
So trembled, answer he could none afford;  
But overcome with anguish of the passion,  
He flung away from thence, in careless fashion.   

40  
And much lamenting this her foul abuse,  
He vows to follow her what ere ensue,  
But yet to Charles he feigneth this excuse,  
That sith Gradasso, of his word untrue,  
Had ta'en his horse contrary to the use  
Of valiant Knights, he means him to pursue;  
Alleging that it were his great dishonour,  
To let Bayardo have a foreign owner.   

41  
And that a Turk should boast another day,  
That he by fight did him thereof bereave.  
King Charles (though loath) yet could not say him nay  
To such an honest suit, but gave him leave;  
Which ta'en, alone from thence he goes his way.  
And all his friends in Paris he doth leave:  
With Guidon, Dudon stout to him do proffer  
Their company, but he refused their offer.   

42  
Away he goes alone, yet not alone.  
Griefs, tears, and plaints, still his companions are:  
And oft in heart he bitterly doth groan,  
To think that erst he should so little care,  
For her great love, which wilfully foregone,  
He now esteems at rate so high and rare,  
He could have wished (thus was his mind perplexed)  
But one day to enjoy, and die the next.   

43  
Then he bethinks with no less grief, nayrage  
How she could find in that her lofty hart,  
To set her love on such a sorry page,  
The merits all, and service put apart,  
Done unto her e'en from her tender age,  
By men of high renown and great desert:  
Thus with a fired hart, and watered eyen,  
He road until he touched the banks of Rhyne.   

44  
E'er long into Ardenna woods he enters, 
Look in the Allegory.   
Soon after he Basylea quite had past:  
Ardenna woods, whence many come repenters,  
And in that forest have been sore aghast,  
To travel through the same Renaldo venter's,  
When suddenly the sky did overcast,  
And there arose a black and hideous storm,  
And then appeared a monster of strange form.   

45  
She seemed of woman's shape, but in her head,  
A thousand eyes she had, that watch did keep,  
As many ears, with which she hearkened,  
Her eyes want lids, and therefore never sleep,  
In steed of hair, her crown snakes overspread,  
Thus marched she forth of the darkness deep,  
Her tail one Serpent bigger than the rest,  
Which she with knots had tied about her breast.   

46  
This fight, Renaldoes mind paid so sore,  
He feels his heart already 'gan to fail him,  
And sith it never had done so before,  
He marvels what, (the goody ear) now should ail him:  
Yet still his mind misgave him more and more,  
To see the monster coming to assail him,  
He nathlesse countersets his wont boldness,  
Though quaking hands bewrayed his inward coldness   

47  
The monster strait assaulted him, much like  
To one that parfet was and skilled in fence,  
And when again he with his sword did strike,  
He misled, and could do her none offence.  
Much doth Renaldo this ill match mislike,  
And little wants to quite distract his sense,  
Right blows and reardemaine he striketh many,  
But yet he cannot hit her right with any.   

48  
The monster sticks a Serpent in his breast,  
That strake his heart in to a freezing cold,  
Another fixed is below his crest,  
And on his neck and shoulders taketh hold;  
Renaldo thinks to get him gone is best,  
And spurs away with all the speed he could,  
But that vile monster was not lame to find him,  
But overtook him, and leapt up behind him.   

49  
And whether he go strait, or go he wide,  
The monster fitteth sure and holds him fast,  
He knows not how to be from her untied,  
Nor any mean within his mind can cast,  
His heart e'en quakes within him, and beside  
That he was with this hideous plague aghast,  
He sorrowd so not knowing how to mend it,  
He loathed his life, and did desire to end it.   

50  
He spurs amain, and purposely he takes  
The rugged ways, the worst that he could find,  
By craggy Rocks, and hills, through briars & brakes  
Through copsies thick, by narrow paths and blind,  
But sure the knight the matter much mistakes,  
He cannot from the monster him unwind:  
And like it was, great harm had him betided,  
Had not for him, been help in time provided.   

51  

〈◊〉 is 〈◊〉 in the 〈…〉 this book.  For lo a knight, unto his succour went,  
All armed in shining steel, and on his shield,  
He bore a yoke in sundry pieces rend,  
And flames of fire all in a yellow field,  
So weaponed he was, as if he meant  
To make all that encountered him to yield,  
A sword and spear he had, and to the same,  
A Mace from whence he threw continual flame.   

52  
His Mace was stored with everlasting fire,  
That ever burned, and did never waste,  
No other weapon needed one desire,  
To make good way with, wheresoeu'r he passed,  
And sure Renaldoes danger did require  
Quick remedy, wherefore the knight doth haste:  
And when he saw this monster and did view her,  
With his stiff spear forthwith he overthrew her,   

53  
But this same fall did her no whit annoy,  
Wherefore to use his spear he now misliketh,  
He only will his fiery Mace employ,  
And with that same the monster foul he striketh:  
Then she no longer could her force enjoy,  
Renaldo while she fled, occasion piketh,  
To scape away, as him that knight persuaded,  
While he this monster more and more invaded.   

54  
Now when the knight had with his fiery Mace,  
Driven back this monster to her darksome den,  

〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  Where she for spite doth beat her head and face,  
Repining at the good of other men,  
Then to Renaldo he doth ride apace,  
And when he had soon overta'en him, than  
He offered in kind sort, with him to ride,  
From out the darksome places him to guide.   

55  
But when Renaldo was from danger free,  
And that same knight by whom his safety came,  
So courteously to come to him did see,  
His speech to him in kind words he did frame,  
And gave him many thanks in high degree,  
And then besought him he might know his name,  
That th'Emperor and all his court might know,  
What knight did so great grace on him bestow.   

56  
The knight in courteous manner thus replied,  
I would not you should take it in displeasure,  
That I my name from you a while shall hide,  
But ere the shadow grow a yard by measure,  
I shall you tell: thus onward still they ride,  
Renaldo being pleased to stay his leisure,  
So long they went together till they found,  
A crystal spring that ran along the ground.   

57  
At which full oft the herdsmen, that did dwell  
Near those same woods, 
Of this Well you heard in the first book.  have in their loving fits,  
Drunk love away, with tasting of that well,  
And of those passions purged clean their wits:  
Now (for the knight that road with him could tell  
That for Renaldoes ill, this Physic fits)  
He doth advise him there to stay a space,  
And make that well their bait and resting place.   

58  
Renaldo of the motion well allowth,  
And lighteth strait, and to the well doth go,  
Both for that heat and travel bred his drought,  
And that the monster had disturbed him so;  
Unto the crystal well he puts his mouth,  
And greedily drinks down five gulps or more,  
And from his breast doth with one draft remove,  
His burning thirst, and his more burning love.   

59  
Now when that other knight that with him went,  
Saw him lift up himself from that same brook,  
And found he did his foolish love repent,  
And that he now that humour quite forsook,  
Then to declare his name he was content,  
And looking with a grave and lofty look,  
He said, Renaldo, know I height Disdain,  
That came to lose thee from loves foolish chain.   

60  
This said, he vanished from Renaldo quite,  
His horse nor him he could not after see,  
Renaldo marvels at this wondrous sight,  
And looks about, and saith, what where is he?  
At last he thinks 'tis some familiar sprite,  
That by good Malagigis scent might be:  
To rid him of that tedious care and woe,  
That many months had him afflicted so.   

61  
Or else that God to him this help did lend,  
Of his especial grace and loving kindness,  
As erst he did unto Tobias send,  
His Angel to deliver him from blindness:  
But let it Angel be, or be it send,  
Renaldo takes against him no unkindness:  
He thanks and praises it, and doth acknowledge,  
To have received of him grace, wit, and knowledge   

62  
Now, that same great mislike and hate returned,  
Of fair Angelica, whom late he loved,  
Now he despised her and greatly scorned,  
To think that he for her one foot had moved:  
Yet onward into India ward he iourn,  
As for Bayardos' sake it him behoved:  
Because both honour did compel him to it,  
And to his Prince he undertook to do it.   

63  
He rides to Basile next ensuing night,  
Where very late before, some news were hard,  
How that Orlando challenged was to fight,  
And for that fight, how he himself prepared,  
Not, that Orlando news here of did write,  
But one that came from Sycill thitherward,  
Affirmed he had heard the same reported,  
By many that to Sicily resorted.   

64  
These news do set on edge Renaldoes hart,  
He feign would present be at this conflict,  
He feign would take therein Orlando's part,  
To whom he bounden was in bands most strict,  
Of friendship, of alliance and desert:  
Wherefore he takes post horse, and spurred and pricked,  
And changed both beasts, & guides each ten miles' end  
And toward Italy he still doth bend.   

65  
At Constance he did pass the stream of Rhine,  
And then beyond the Alpes, he soon doth go,  
To Mantoa, and ere the Sun decline,  
He passed over the stately stream of Poe,  
Here he did doubt and did not soon design,  
If he should travel all the night or no:  

H●ere you must begin, to read the tale of the Man●● in knight that had the married man's ●uppe.  Till at the last a well behavourd knight,  
And full of courtesy, came in his sight.   

66  
This knight forthwith unto Renaldo went,  
And asked him if he were a married man,  
Renaldo marvels what the question ment,  
But answered yea, than other strait began,  
And prayed him, that he would be then content,  
To be his guest, at such cheer as he can:  
Offering to show him, while with him he tarride,  
A sight well pleasing unto all were married.   

67  
Renaldo glad so good a bait to make,  
And no less willing, haps most rare to hear,  
Would not the offer of this knight forsake,  
Of entertainment good, and friendly cheer,  
But onward with him doth his journey take,  
Until he saw a goodly place appear,  
So well set forth, both for the show and sense,  
As seemed not for a private man's expense.   

68  
The porch was all of porphery and Tut●h,  
On which the sumptuous building raised was,  
With Images that seemed to move, see, tuch,  
Some hewed in stone ●ome carved and cut in brass,  
Likewise within, the beauty was as much:  
Beneath a state●y arch, they strait did pass,  
Unto a court that good proportion bare,  
And was each way one hundred cubits square.   

69  
And either side a Porch had passing fair,  
That with an arch, is on two cullomns placed,  
Of equal size they seemed every pair,  
Yet sundry works which them the better graced;  
At each of these a wide, large easy stair,  
Without the which, all buildings are defaced,  
And those same stairs so stately mounting, led  
Each to a chamber richly furnished.   

70  
The cullomns hie, the chapters guilt with gold,  
The cornishes enriched with things of cost,  
The Marbles set from far, and dearly sold,  
By cunning workmen carved and embossed,  
With Images, and antikes new and old,  
(Though now the night thereof concealed most)  
Show that that work so rich beyond all measure,  
Could scant be builded with a Prince's treasure.   

71  
But nothing did so much the fight enrich,  
As did the plenteous fountain, that did stand  
Just placed in the middle, under which  
The Pages spread a table out of hand,  
And brought forth napry rich, and plate more rich,  
And meats the choicest of the sea or land:  
For though the house had stately rooms full many,  
In summer season this was best of any.   

72  
This fountain was by curious workmen brought,  
To answer to the rest with double square,  
Eight female statues of white marble wrought,  
With their left hands, an azure sky up bare,  
Which raining still, expelled heat and drought,  
From all that under it, or near it are,  
In their right hands, 
That 〈◊〉 nifieth plea●●●● cop●a cornu● Of Amalt●● look in the 〈◊〉  was Amalthea's horn,  
By every one of those eight statues borne.   

73  
Each of these statues rested both their feet,  
Upon two Images of men below,  
That seemed delighted with the noise so sweet,  
That from the water came, that there did flow,  
They also seemed the Lady's low to greet,  
As though they did their names and virtues know:  
And in their hands they hold long scrolls of writings  
Of their own pennings and their own enditings.   

74  
And in fair golden letters were the names,  
Both of the women wrote, and of the men,  
The women were eight chaste and sober dames,  
That now do live, but were unborn as then:  
The men were Poets that their worthy fames,  
In time to come, should praise with learned pens  
These Images bore up a brazen tressel,  
On which there stood a large white Marble vessel.   

75  
This took the water from the azure sky,  
From whence, with turning of some cock or vice,  
Great store of water would mount up on high,  
And wet all that same court e'en in a trice;  
With sight of these Renaldo fed his eye,  
So that his host could scarcely him entice,  
To feed his stomach, 
Il Sala●● 〈◊〉 the Italian 〈◊〉.  yet he oft him told,  
His meat would mar and salads would be cold.   

76  
Than down at last they sat them at the board,  
And pleasant talk did help digest their meat,  
His host that was no niggard, did afford  
Great store of delicates, to drink and eat,  
And all this while Renaldo spoke no word,  
Although he did it oft in mind repeat,  
And though his tongue did itch, to pray him tell,  
What 'twas that would please married men so well.   

77  
At last he put him mannerly in mind,  
Of that he first did promise him to show,  
e'en than he plainly saw his host incliude  
To inward grief, and did more pensive grow,  
With secret sighs, and leaving half behind;  
At last a Page came in with curtsy low,  
And bears a standing cup of gold most fine,  
Without of gems, and full within of wine.   

77  
With this, the Master of the feast did smile,  
And on Renaldo looked with pleasant cheer,  
But one that well had marked him that while,  
Might see more grief than mirth, in him appear:  
Now noble guest (quoth he) within a while,  
You shall see proved, a strange conclusion hear,  
That needs must be full welcome to be tried,  
By all that are in bonds of wedlock tied.   

78  
For sure I think (he said) each husband ought,  
Make search if so his wife esteem him dearly,  
If same, or shame, by her to him be brought,  
If man or beast, he be reputed merely:  
The burden of the horn though it be thought  
To weigh so heavy, and to touch so nearly,  
No doubt but many get them in their marriage,  
Yet feel them not, they be so light in carriage.   

79  
But if a man by certain signs may know,  
How that his wife to him is true and just,  
He hath more cause more kindness her to show,  
Then he that lives in right, or wrong mistrust:  
For some without a cause do jealous grow,  
Whose wives are chaste, and free-from lawless lust:  
And some that for their wives truth durst have sworn,  
Have for their labours, in their head a horn.   

80  
Now sir, if you believe your wife is true,  
As sure till one do find contrary proof,  
I think both you, and all men ought of dew,  
For that no doubt is best for their behoose,  
Here you shall see it tried within your view,  
For which I prayed you harbour in my roof:  
This cup (said he) if you desire to know it,  
By drinking in the lame, will clearly show it.   

81  
Now drink hereof, and prove this passing skill, 
Actaeon's arms were horne● given him by Diana, whereupon a pleasant fellow wrote this deslicke of one that had married a light housewife. Th●●da ●e credit denisse, sed illa D●ana est, Namque Acteoneum da● 〈◊〉 Gau●● caput.   
For if Actaeon's arms, be on your crest,  
Do what you can, you shall the liquor spill,  
Beside your mouth, upon your lap and breast,  
But if your wife be chaste, then drink your fill,  
No such mischance your draft will then molest.  
Thus much he said, and fixed on him his eyen,  
And thinks Renaldo sure would spill the wine.   

82  
Renaldo half alured to assay,  
To find a thing, which found he might repent,  
Did take in hand the golden cup strait way,  
As if to quasse it off, were his intent:  
Yet first he doth the certain danger way,  
To which by tasting such a cup he went.  
But give me leave a while some breath to take,  
Before you hear what answer he did make.   
This book begins with a Moral against wrath, and revenge, excusing rather then allowing them that yield to that bloody passion: but let all noble minded men (I speak to men of the sword) if they do as Orlando did, revenge the death of their dear friend, yet after take example of Orlando's clemency towards Sobrino, whom (after the fury of the combat was past) he made to be cured. Tully in his Oration pro Marcello, hath many excellent sayings to this effect, to ●raise Caesar and, all such as being able to revenge, yet rather choose to forgive: as in one place he saith, verum animum vincere, iracundiam cohibere, victoriam temperare, etc. Haec quifaciat, non ego eum summis viris comparo, sed simillimum Deo judico. To overcome the passions of the mind, to bridle one's anger, to moderate the victory, etc. who doth these things I compare not him to the best sort of men, but I liken him to God himself. Further in the same oration he calls wrath an enemy to wisdom; and our common English proverb saith, the hasty man never wanteth woe: all which I allege rather to prove mine authors saying true: that it is hard to bridle wrath, and to temper revenge; and consequently the more commendable for those that can do it: according to the saying, pulchra quae difficilia; and therefore the more noble and great a man is either in birth or fortune, the more honourable it is for him to be spare and not bloody in revenge; Posse & nolle nobile. And even in this last book, you read how hurtful desire of revenge falls of time to him that desireth it; for Agramant came of purpose into France to be revenged upon Charles, and was as you see, first expelled out of that Realm, and after bereft of his life.  
Of Alfonsoes' hurt you may read in Guycchardin, 
History.  and how his men recovered the Bastia from the Spaniards, who had certain moors with them at that time; and therefore he saith (of men whose greater part were circumcised.) Fulgoso, or Fregoso, was Archbishop of Salerne, and as it seems, had carped at Ariostos verse of Lyppadusa: but he defends the matter prettily, alleging that an earthquake, or inundation had destroyed all the level ground. The like reproof had Virgil about the haven of Mongibello, which he describes at the root of that hill, where indeed there was none: and the like excuse is made for him, that it filled with the continual casting up of stones out of the burning hill. Catalani are the chief house of Spain, alleged here by the Poet, for their good success in discovering the Indies, though indeed the Portugals Lusitani not Catalani deserve the praise of it.  
The monster that assaulted Renaldo signifies jealousy that he had, 
Allegory.  that another possessed his love: the knight that delivered him was Disdain, that with the heat of noble courage, signified by the fiery Mace, overthrew the monster, and drove him quite away: it is so plain in the verse it needs no exposition.  
The cup that Renaldo was offered, 
Allusion.  puts me in mind of the like fancy, in the History of Herodotus in the second book, briefly it is thus. Pharaoh King of Egypt, having by ill hap, lost his eyesight, was advised (by some Oracle) to bathe his eyes in the urine of a chaste woman. Wherefore first he proved his wives, and after divers other great Ladies, but he found none did him good but one poor gentelwoman, wherefore being recovered of his fight, he put all the other to death, and married that one: but because the matter of the cup is continued in the next book, I shall speak more to this effect, in my notes upon the same.  
Here end the notes of the XLII. book.   

  

THE XLIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Renaldo hears two tales to like effect,  
Tone of a Bargeman, other of a knight:  
Both proving that rewards will soon infect  
The minds of chastest dames, and make them light:  
To Lippaduse he doth his course direct,  
But first Orlando finished had his fight:  
That Hermit that Rogero did baptise,  
Healed Oliver, and Sobrine in likewise.  

1  
O Cursed, o greedy, o unsatiable  

〈◊〉  Desire of gain, I do not marvel sure,  
If thou the base and filthy minds art able,  

〈◊〉 men.  To cause to stoop unto thy carrion lure,  
Sith oft we see some persons honourable,  
Can scarce thy weak and base assaults endure,  
Who if they could thy foul enticements shun,  
No doubt but they great glory should have won.   

2  

〈◊〉 men.  Some men can measure earth, and sea, and sky,  
And tell the change and cause of every season,  
And wade so far with wit, or mount so hy,  
They search both heaven & hell with depth of reason  
But when thou comest in place, then by and by,  
Thou putst their dainty tastes so out of season,  
They place their whole delight, their hope, their health  
In only scraping and in heaping wealth.   

3  

〈◊〉.  Another man in wars hath great renown,  
And gets the conquest in each bloody strife,  
And wins this fortress, and that walled town,  
Opposing his stout breast to perils rife,  
Thou only conquerst him, and thrusts him down,  
And keepest him thy prisoner all his life:  

〈◊〉 professions  Some men, excelling in each art and study,  
Thou dost obscure, with base desires and muddy.   

4  

〈…〉.  What should I speak of dames of worth not small,  
That having lovers, men of great deserts,  
Oppose their honours, as a brazen wall,  
Against their suits with unrelenting hearts?  
But come some miser, base deformed squall,  
That save his riches, 
Omid. Aureanuns ver●●unt seculap●urimus 〈◊〉 Venit hones, 〈◊〉 amor. Dana● had a 〈◊〉 of gold fell in her lap. Look in the Table.  hath no worthy parts,  
They break the wall, and make therein a gap,  
To take the shower that fell in Danae's lap.   

5  
Nor without cause hereof complain do I,  
Take me that can, for I do rightly take it,  
Nor from my matter do I serve awry,  
Or by a vain digression do for sake it:  
Yet to my former speech I not apply,  
But tending to a future tale I spoke it:  
Now let me tell you of Renaldo first, 
One thirst was for were, the tother to know his wives c●●st●●e.   
That with one draft would suage his double thirst   

6  
But whether that his courage did him fail,  
Or that on more advise, 
Sentence 〈◊〉 to that 〈◊〉 M●lut● bene posi●um ne move as Sentence.  he changed mind,  
He thought and said, what should it one avail,  
To seek a thing he would be loath to find?  
My wife a woman is, their sex is frail,  
I yet am to believe the best inclined;  
I know I cannot better my belief,  
And if I change it, it will be my grief.   

7  
What good may come by such a strait espy all,  
Into my senses surely cannot sink,  
Much hurt may come, there can be no denial,  
Let nothing sever those whom God doth link: 
Sentence.   
Wherefore to make so unaccustomd trial,  
Were sin, and tempting God as I do think:  
Then drink this cup, (quoth he) that lift, not I,  
I am not, nor I mind not to be dry.   

8  
God would such skill from mortal men be hid,  

Simile..  And e'en as Adam wrought his overthrow,  
By tasting fruit, that God did him forbid,  
So he that curiously will search to know,  

This was well considered of Renaldo.  All that his wife hath said, or what she did,  
May fortune at the last himself beshrew:  
And shall confound himself (this think I verily)  
And live in sorrow, that did erst live merrily.   

9  
Thus much said good Renaldo, and withal  
He thrust away that hateful cup of wine,  
And then he saw of tears, a stream not small,  
Flow from the master of that house his eyen:  
Which passed, he said, now foul may them befall,  
That first procured this misery of mine:  
To prove (which I shall sorrow all my life)  
That, which bearest me of my dearest wife.   

10  
Why was not I (said he) with you acquainted,  
Ten years ere this, to take advise so sound,  
Before my heart was thus with sorrow tainted,  
Of which no ease can now, nor end be found:  
But that you may, as in a table painted,  
Behold my griefs, I will to you expound,  
What cauld this mine uncomparable woe,  
And then you sure will pity me I know.   

11  
Not far from hence you left a little town,  
About the which there runs a pretty lake,  
That falls into this stream of great renown,  

B●naco.  But from Banaco first his head doth take,  
Erected when those walls were beaten down,  

Cadmus' son of Agenor, turned into a Dragon, bult the town of ●●●bs.  That erst Agenor's dragon there did make;  
There was I borne of house and stock not base,  
Though of mean wealth inferior to my race.   

12  
But though to me dame Fortune was but spare,  
That by my birth small wealth to me there grew,  
Yet Nature did with bounty great and care,  
Supply that want, by fair and comely hue,  
My seemly parsonage, my beauty rare,  
To me the liking of full many drew:  

Sentence. Take such, Laus pr●prio sordescit ●re, and Catovold verse. Nec te collcudes nec te culpaveris ipse.  My qualities thereto, were acquaint and jolly,  
Although I know to praise one's self is folly.   

13  
Within this town a great rich man did tarry,  
Well learned, and wise, and old beyond all credit,  
For ere he died, he on his back did earrie,  
Full sixscore years and eight at least, he said it:  
An hundred years he lived solitary,  
But after that (you know what humour bred it)  
He loved a dame, and with his wealth so wrought her  
That at the last he got of her a daughter,   

14  
And lest the daughter should prove like the mother,  

Sentence.  To sell her chastive for filthy pelf,  
Which whosoever sells, it quite undoth her,  
Although she thinks she doth enrich herself,  
Therefore he bred her far from sight of other,  
And by the help of many a hellish elf,  
Which by his skill in Magic, he could master,  
He built this house of Touch and Alabaster.   

15  
He caused chaste old women, 
chaste old 〈◊〉 for if they 〈◊〉 been unchaste 〈◊〉 their youth, be but ill ●●●nesses.  her to nourish  
In this same house, in which she grew so fair,  
And in those years when youth doth chiefly flourish,  
He let not any thither to repair,  
That were in looks, or speech, or manners whorish,  
But contrary, he caused in Marble fair,  
Or else on tables to be drawn and carved,  
All such whose chastities had praise deserved.   

16  
Nor only such as have in ancient times,  
Been patterns true of manners chaste and pure,  
And have opposed against all fleshly crimes,  
Most chaste and virtuous thoughts (a buckler sure)  
By which their name to such high honour climbs,  
As their great praise shall evermore endure:  
But such as shall excel in times to come,  
Of which those eight, that erst you saw be some. 
These eight 〈◊〉 those that supported the sound in the xlij book▪    

17  
Now when this aged sire had with his skill,  
Procured his daughter be thus choicely bred,  
It was my hap, (shall I say good or ill?)  
That I was deemed most worthy her to wed;  
And that old man bore her so great good will,  
He gave to me this house thus furnished, 
It was a fair demain.   
With needful things within it and without it,  
And all the lands in twenty mile about it,   

18  
But her own shape, so pleased my heart and eyen,  
That for the rest I did but little care,  
For needle works, and for embrodries fine, 
Pallas was excellennt on 〈◊〉 works Look in the Table.   
I think her skill with Pallas might compare;  
To hear her play or sing, a thing divine  
It was, her stroke so sweet, her voice so rare:  
In other sciences, her skill was such,  
As was her fathers, or almost as much.   

19  
Great was her wit, no less than wit, her favour,  
As might in senseless stones affection move,  
To this she had a sweet and kind behaviour,  
As more than all the rest engendered love, 
Sentence.   
It seemed her sole delight was in my favour,  
Out of my sight, she was most loath to move:  
So lived I, and still had lived so,  
But that myself did work myself this wo.   

20  
For when her father finished had his life,  
Full five years after I had got his daughter,  
Then grew the causes of this woeful strife,  
That unto sorrow turneth all my laughter;  
For when I doted most upon my wife,  
And of the world the chiefest jewel thought her,  
A dame of noble birth, of person seemly,  
Did hap to fall in love with me extremely.   

21  
This dame, for passing skill in Magic art,  
Was comparable to the best Magition,  
But yet for all her skill, my constant hart,  
She could not move nor turn on no condition:  
To cure her malady, or ease her smart,  
I still refused to be her Physician,  
Because, the medicine that of me she sought, 
Look in the Allusion.   
As injury unto my wife I thought.   

22  
Yet was her beauty much, I must confess,  
And great her offers she to me did make,  
Beside the love she did to me profess,  
Would move a man some care of her to take;  
But my wives love, did me so firm possess,  

〈◊〉  I all rejected, only for her sake,  
And that which most to her my liking drew,  
Was that I found her still so kind and true.   

23  
The good opinion, and the strong surmise,  
I had of my wives chastity and truth,  
Would without doubt, have made me to despise  

〈…〉  The Dame, whose beauty bred to Troy such ruth,  
And all the wealth, though laid before mine eyes,  
That juno offered to the Trojan youth,  
Yet my refusal, and her oft repulses,  
No part of her great love, from her expulses.   

24  
Melissa, so was this enchantress name,  
Perceiving still in vain to me she sewed,  
Once finding me at leisure, to me came,  
And in most cunning sort, her suit renewed,  
And secretly she kindled jealous flame  
Within my breast, which oft I since have rued.  
She saith, I do but well so true to be  
Unto my wife, if she were so to me.   

25  
But how know you (saith she) your wife is true,  
That of her faith as yet no proof have made,  
You never let her go scant from your view,  
When none can come to vice her to persuade,  
Nor none can see her, none to her can sew,  

〈◊〉  'tis easy to resist where none invade,  
To praise her truth untride, is too much haste,  
Your care, and not her virtue keeps her chaste.   

26  
But get you but from home some little while,  
That men to sue to her might take occasion,  
And thinking you are absent many a mile,  
With letters and with gifts to make invasion,  
And then if you shall find in her no guile,  
Except she yield to gifts, and to persuasion,  
So she have hope to do it unespied  
Then think your wife is chaste, when that is tried.   

27  
With these and such like words th'enchantress sly,  
Did make me do that hath me undone,  
By name, to give consent my wife to try,  
If so she could by such assaults be won:  
But how shall I be well assured (said I)  
To know at my return, what she hath done,  
And whether she, with these so great assays,  
Have at my hands deserved blame or praise.   

28  
Forsooth (saith she) I will on you bestow,  

〈◊〉 bro●● king 〈◊〉 of C●n●●ll 〈…〉  A drinking bowl, not much unlike that cup,  
With which Morgana made her brother know,  
Genewras fraud, when he thereon did sup.  
Who drinks hereof, his wives truth plain shall know  
If she be chaste, he drinks the liquor up,  
But if a cuckold to carouse doth think,  
He sheddeth in his bosom all the drink.   

29  
Now ere you go, the cup I wish you taste,  
And you shall drink, perhaps and shall not spill,  
Because as yet, I think your wife is chaste,  
As never being tempted unto ill:  
But try again when as a month is past,  
And you shall see I trow, a pretty skill,  
For than I grant, that if you drink it cleanly,  
Above all men, you blessed are not meanly.   

30  
I took her offer, and I took the say,  
Of that same cursed cup, with sweet success,  
I find my wife unspotted to that day,  
As I myself was sure, and she did guess:  
Now strait (quoth she) to part from hence away,  
For one or two months' space, yourself address,  
Then try at your return, how you have sped,  
If you drink clean, or if the drink you shed.   

31  
But now this parting such a penance seemed,  
As I in deed could by no means endure,  
Not that of my dear wife, I ought misdeemed,  
For her of all the rest, I thought cocksure;  
But that her company I so esteemed:  
Well then (Melissa saith) I will procure,  
If you will do, but what I shall you teach,  
That you shall change your clothes, your shape, and speech.   

32  
And so you shall yourself to her present,  
And make yourself a plain and perfect proof.  
I foolishly to this device assent,  
And so it happed that hence, not far aloof,  
A knight of large revenue and of rent,  
Dwelled at Giabana, fit for this behoof, 
Giabana, it is to be pronounced jabana, a 〈◊〉 upon the river of Dae.   
His parsonage was brave, his purse well lined,  
His years but young, to Venus all inclined.   

33  
That gallant youth had one day been a halking,  
His hawk by hap, into my garden flew,  
He coming thither, found my wife a walking,  
And much he liked her, at the very view;  
But when he had a while with her been talking,  
To burning love, his warm affection grew,  
That after that, full many ways he proved her,  
If his request to grant, he could have moved her.   

34  
But having still such short and sharp repulses,  
He means no more, in that fond suit to wade,  
But from his thought, her shape he not expulses,  
That first to give the bold attempt him made;  
So well Melissa knew to touch my pulses,  
To take his form, she doth me soon persuade,  
I strait was changed I know not how nor where, 
Look in the Allusion.   
In face, in clothes, in speech, in eyes, in hear.   

35  
Now having to my wife a tale devisd,  
As though to th'East I then my journey took,  
And being like this youth, so strange disguised:  
In gate, in voice, apparel, and in look,  
I came as sly Melissa me advisd,  
And she did like my Page or Lackey look,  
Upon her arm she bears a little flasket,  
In which, of jewels rich she hid a casket.   

36  
I that well knew each room, came in securely,  
Into the house, my Page and I together;  
There where my Lady sat alone demurely,  
For neither groom as then, nor maid was with her  
Than I expound my suit, and that more surely  
She might bele●ue my words, I needs would give her,  
Pearls Rubies, Diamonds of passing price,  

Sentence.  The wicked baits, to draw good minds to vice.   

37  
I bade she should esteem this gift but small  
To that she might of me in time expect:  
I said, her husband's absence fit did fall,  

Sentence.  And wisdom bids occasion not neglect:  
I prayed her weigh my constant love withal,  
Which long had lasted, though without effect,  
And last, I swore I had some grace deserved,  
That had so long, that had so truly served.   

38  
At first she blushed, and looked with lowering cheer,  
And would not hearken, but did still retire,  
Lutth ' Orient Pearls, and stones that shone so clear,  
Did mollify her heart, to my desire:  
She softly saith, but so as I might hear,  
That for the thing, which I so oft require,  
She grant it would, and would on me bestow it,  
So she were sure that none beside might know it.   

39  
This answer was to me a poisoned dart,  
To strike my soul, in desperate disease,  
And strait my heart, my head, and every part,  
I felt a frozen jealousy to seize:  
And presently Melissa by her art,  
Restored my shape (as she could do with ease.)  
How looked my wife (think you) when by my trapping  
She found herself thus foully taken napping.   

40  
We both do look like ashes, pale and wan,  
We both stood dumb, we both cast down our eye,  
Scarce able was my voice (do what I can)  
To serve my turn, while I did think to cry:  
Then wouldst thou wife unto another man,  
Mine honour sell, if he the same could by?  
She held her peace, and answer made me none,  
But only wept and made a piteous moan.   

41  
The shame was much, but much more the disdain,  
That of my foolish usage ta'en she hath,  
Within due bonds she could not it contain,  
But that it broke to spite, to hate, to wrath:  
Resolved with me no longer to remain,  
When Phoebus' charet trod his Western path,  
That evening in a small barge of her own,  
Down stream she swimmeth, as if she had flown.   

42  
Betimes next day she doth unto that knight,  
Herself present, that her before had loved,  
In whose disguised shape, I her last night,  
Both 'gainst mine owu, and 'gainst her honour proved  
You well may judge it was a welcome fight  
To him, that long before such suit had moved,  
From thence she sends to me this message plain,  
That she would never come at me again.   

43  
Ah woe was me, for from that hour to this,  
She bides with him, where me they lout and scorn,  
And I that could not see my sugared bliss,  
Now by foregoing it, am quite forlorn;  
Nor can I say but just my penance is,  
Which still grows more, and will till I be worn,  
And sure one year, of life had quite bearest me,  
Save for one only comfort that was left me.   

44  
This only comfort brought me some relief, 
〈…〉   
That for the space of ten years, all my guests,  
(Though many of their wives had great belief)  
Yet still they shed the drink upon their breasts:  
To find so many partners in my grief,  
Assuageth much the pain that me molests,  
Your only self hath been the only stranger,  
That hath refused a draft of so great danger.   

45  
My overmuch desire to sist my wife,  
In so precise, and in so strait a sort,  
Doth cause that now I shall not all my life,  
Live on good hour, endure it long or short▪  
Glad was Melissa that procured this strife,  
But soon I turned and marred all her sport,  
For finding she, was of my harm procurer,  
I hated her, and could no more endure her.   

46  
But she that finds herself disdained merely,  
Where she had hoped to have found reward,  
And me, whom she professed to love so dearly,  
Her love and kindness nothing to regard,  
The grief hereof did ●uch her mind so nearly,  
To leave this country she forthwith prepared,  
And ever since far hence she is abiding,  
Whereas of her, we hear no news nor tiding.   

47  
Thus told the woeful knight, in doleful wise,  
This rueful tale unto his noble guest,  
Who with compassion moved, thus replies;  
Melissa counsel certes was not best,  
That did without discretion you advise,  
To anger wasps, or so to stir their nest, 
Sentence it is 〈◊〉 Latin, 〈…〉   
And you yourself did greatly overshoot you,  
To seek a thing, whose finding would not boot you   

48  
What marvel is it if your wife were won  
With gifts, and were to lightness soon alluered?  
Is she the first (think you) that so hath done?  
No, nor the fiftieth be you well assured,  
Yea, minds full sound have wanted power to shun  
Such baits, and have not such assaults endured:  
Have you not heard of men that have for gold,  
Their masters and their friends most dearest sold?   

49  
You should not with a dart so fierce assail,  
If her defend herself to see you sought, 
Horace 〈◊〉 per 〈◊〉 dios are satellite & perr●●●● 〈◊〉.   
What, know you not stone walls cannot avail,  
Nor steel, if gold be to the batt'ne brought?  
Now sure yourself of duty more did fail,  
In tempting her, than she in being caught,  
Perhaps if she had tempted you ●o sore,  
Your folly would have been as much or more.   

50  
Thus spoke Renaldo, and withal he rose,  
And prayed he might be take him to his rest,  
He minds a while himself there to repose,  
And after to depart he doth request;  
Small time he hath, and that he would dispose  
With great regard, for so he thinks it best:  
The gentle knight doth tell him when it please him  
He may within his chamber rest and ease him.   

51  
But if you will unto my counsel hark,  
And that you have (as you pretend) such haste,  
I will appoint for you a little bark,  
That shall with oars convey you safe and fast,  
There may you sleep the while you find it dark,  
And when your stomach serves you, take repast:  
Thus may you, down the stream in safety sliding,  
Win one whole night, & save a whole days riding.   

52  
Renaldo this good offer doth accept,  
And gave him hearty thanks, than took his barge:  
He found his host with him had promise kept,  
And makes of needful things provision large:  
No sooner was he settled, but he slept,  
But yet before he gave the stearman charge,  
If that to sleep too long it did befall him,  
When he came near Ferrara, then to call him.   

53  
Now did the knight of France in quiet sleep,  
And past by divers towns of count the while,  
And still the barge a pace most swift doth keep,  
Upon that hand, where Poe make divers Isles:  
And now the Rosy colour 'gan to creep  
To th'eastern sky, when having past some miles,  
Bandano then the steersman waked Renaldo,  
When they discovered both rocks of Tealdo.   

54  
Whereon when as the knight his eye had fixed,  
He saith, O happy place that I behold,  
Of which, by view of wandering stars and fixed,  
My cousin Malagigis oft foretold,  
How that by heavenly doom it was prefixed,  
On thee to lay such blessings manifold,  
As that thy glory to such height should rise,  
Of Italy to hold the chiefest prize.   

55  
Thus good Renaldo spoke, the while his boat  

〈…〉  Down that same stream did swim, or rather fly,  
And when the knight came nearer he did note  
The place, that seemed then all waist to lie,  
And with a moorish water all on float:  
Yet did he much rejoice thereof, for why,  
He knew that that same town in future time,  
Ordained was to great renown to climb.   

56  
His cousin Malagige and he whileare,  
Had past that way, what time his cousin told,  
That when the Ram had ta'en the golden sphere,  
That fourth is placed in height, seven hundred fold,  
Then should there be the bravest Island there,  
That ever sea, or stream, or lake did hold,  
So well replenished that none should dare,  
With this Nausicas Island to compare.   

57  
And that it should for building fair, 
Of these you may look the table if you be not instructed in the history.  disgrace  
Tiberius I'll, that Capry they do call,  
And that th'Helperides should give it place,  
For passing fruits, and sundry sorts with all:  
Beside, more store of beasts, for use or chase,  
Then Circe's erst did keep in field or stall,  
That Venus with her son, and all the Graces,  
Should choose this seat, and leave all other places.   

58  
And that a certain Prince should this fulfil,  
So provident, so stout, so wise, so stayed,  
As having power united to his will,  
Should with strong Rampires fence the town (he said)  
That foes should have no force to work her ill,  
Nor she should never need of foreign aid: 
This is said to the praise of Alfonso Duke of Ferrara   
And that the man by whom this must be done,  
Should be both Hercles' Site, and Hercles' son.   

59  
Thus while the knight of France with great delight,  
Did call to mind, what should another day,  
Upon that happy City there alight,  
His watermen did give so lusty way,  
That of the place he soon had left the sight,  
And keeping on the right hand all the way,  
They went beyond Saint George's in an hour,  
And passed by Giabanas ditch and Tower.   

60  
And now Renaldo, as doth oft befall,  
That one conceit another out doth drive,  
Began the knight to memory to call,  
That last did him kind entertainment give,  
That had just cause this City more than all  
To hate, and should have still while he did live: 
In this City 〈◊〉 he that kept his wife.   
The cursed cup he further called to mind,  
In which men may their spouses' falsehood find.   

61  
And last of his hosts later speech he thought,  
Concerning that same cup, and how they sped,  
I mean his guests, that that same trial sought,  
Into their bosoms still the liquor shed:  
Now he doth half repent he missed the draft,  
Yet was he glad thereof, for why (he said)  
Had it fallen well, what had I got thereby?  
If not, in what a case had then benel?   

62  
I now believe so well, as having tried  
With good success believe I better should not;  
So that I might have well been damnified,  
But by my trial mend my state I could not:  
But what grief had it been if I had spied, 
Clarice wife to Renaldo.   
By my most dear Clarice, that I would not?  
Much may they lose, 
Sentence  but gains get small or none,  
That will in play a thousand lay to one:   

63  
These later words so loud and plain he ●pake,  
(Though to himself) that he that steered the boat,  
Who to his speech and gestures heed did take,  
The words, and meaning of his words did note:  
Wherefore a further cause of speech to make,  
As one that though he ware a hu'rie cote,  
Yet was well spoken, and of good bold spirit,  
He strait doth fall to reason with the knight.   

64  
In fine, the sum of all their argument,  
Was that his wit was much to be controlled,  
That sought to make too great experiment,  
Of women's truths, more than their force can hold:;  
For she that can with chaste and firm intent,  
Maintain her truth, against assault of gold,  
Might e'en as easily defend the same,  
Against a thousand swords in midst of flame.   

65  
To this the Bargeman said, you sure may swear it,  
They must not be assailed with darts so fierce,  
For their solt breasts, too tender are to bear it,  
Sith coats of sounder proof, such shot will pierce:  
And sure a pretty tale (if you would hear it)  
I could (saith he) to this effect rehearse,  
Of one who though his wife had sore offended,  
By her, in greater sin was apprehended.   

66  
I mean the tale of that Adonio, which  
The great grift gave unto the judges wife,  
A little dog that made his owner rich,  
A thing that in these parts is known so rife,  
The knight replied, mine ears to hear it ich,  
For never yet I heard it in my life:  
Then if it please you, hear it now you shall,  
The steersman said, and thus began his tale.   

67  

Here begins the Steersman ●ale. Ulpian wrote of the 〈◊〉 law.  There was a learned Lawyer, called by name  
Anselmus, borne here in our neighbour town,  
That so long studied Ulpian, till he came,  
To be a judge, and wear a scarlet gown,  
And having won great wealth he wooed a dame,  
For beauty and for state of great renown;  
They wedded were, for better and for worse,  
So he her person liked, so she his purse.   

68  
Her qualities and haviour past the rest,  
She seemed all of lovelynes composed,  
Not fit indeed for him, that was to rest,  
And to his books, more than to sports disposed:  
Wherefore foul jealous thoughts his mind possessed,  
And that his wife played false, he still supposed,  
Yet cause was none, of her so to misdeem,  
Save that too fair, and witty she did seem.   

69  
Now in the self same City dwelled a knight,  
(Too near a neighbour to this man of law)  
That was of that same stock descended right,  
That had their offspring from the serpent's jaw,  

Of Manto look in the History.  From whence the Fairy eke, that Manto height,  
And built our City, doth her lineage draw,  
This knight that was Adonio called by name,  
Was much enamoured on the lovely dame.   

70  
And that he might attain this Lady's love,  
He doth begin to spend beyond all measure,  
In clothes, in feasts, his calling far above,  

This Tiberius was a ruft, and a C●●●●●ā Prince, look in the Table.  In shows, in plays, to do his mistress pleasure:  
To bear the charge thereof it would behove,  
To have that Emperor Tiberius' treasure,  
So as I ween ere winter's twain were passed,  
His lands were quite consumed, he spent so fast.   

71  
Wherefore compelled to strike his lofty sails,  
He suddenly surceased his stately port,  
The house, now that the Lords revenue fails,  
Stood solitary, quite without resort:  
There were no Feasants, Partridges, nor quails,  
His pittance now was grown but bare and short,  
And he that erst was king of all this feasting,  
Played lest in sight, now doubting of arresting.   

72  
And therefore loathing to be known or seen,  
He purposed in this place not long to tarry,  
But with a mind to leave his country clean,  
He stolen away fro thence all solitary:  
Her only love, that of his heart was Queen,  
In all his woes he still with him doth carry,  
But lo, when as his Ebb did seem most low,  
Good fortune made his tide most high to flow.   

73  
For as he wandered here and there abroad, 
Ovid in the third of the 〈◊〉 hath a tale of 〈◊〉 vesias that 〈◊〉 smi●ing of two snakes changed his shape.   
He saw how that a sturdy clown and stout,  
With sturdy staff, laid on no little load,  
Upon a bush, still beating there about:  
Adonio in the place makes some abode,  
And ask the cause, of that same country lout,  
Who told him that a monstrous snake and huge,  
Had taken that same bush for a refuge.   

74  
And told him further, he that stir did make,  
With mind to find, and kill it ere he part.  
Adonio for his crest did give the Snake,  
And therefore loved and favoured Snakes in hart,  
As from whose kind he did his gentry take;  
Wherefore unto the clown he doth impart  
His mind so far, at last he him persuaded,  
To let alone the Snake he so invaded.   

75  
This done, he went as he was bend before,  
far from his country, where he was unknown,  
And so endured till seven whole years and more,  
Of woe, and want, quite o'er his head were blown:  
But that great love he to his mistress bore,  
Him forced, though now all out of fashion grown,  
With bushy beard, lean cheeks, & ragged clothes,  
To turn unto the place that most he loathes.   

76  
In this mean time, our town had cause to send,  
Some sage Ambassador unto the Pope,  
That must upon his Holiness attend,  
And for his suit to take a whole year scope:  
The judge by lot was chosen to that end,  
(O cursed lot that killed all his hope)  
To shun this office he tries many shifts,  
By scuses, promises, by prayers and gifts.   

77  
But finding that he strove against the stream,  
At last against his will, he takes the place,  
Though to depart into another Ream,  
It seemed unto him, a grievous case:  
His jealousy there with grew most extreme,  
Misdoubting his wives truth, so long a space,  
Yet nath'les her, in grave and friendless speech,  
To have great care thereof, he doth beseech.   

78  

〈◊〉.  He saith, a woman cannot take upon her,  
With beauty, riches, nor with high Nobility,  
To claim the true deserved praise of honer,  
If chastity do fail by her fragility,  
This is the virtue that defends her owner,  
And now she may (he saith) with great facility,  
Attain great praise, and show thereof great proof,  
While he is forced, to stay so far aloof.   

79  
These words he spoke, and many such as these,  
Thereby to move her, to continue true,  
And she (poor soul) yet free from such disease,  
His parting thence, did much lament and rue;  
She swears that sooner men should drain the seas,  
Then draw her mind so to forget her due,  
Yea first she will e'en die the death she saith,  
Much rather than to falsify her faith.   

80  
The judge appeased with this her protestation,  
Began to have of her the less mistrust,  
But yet his fond and jealous inclination,  
So moves him, that search further needs he must:  
He had a friend that could by conjuration,  
Foretell of future matters true and just:  
That were it skill in Magic, or in stars,  
His guess was such, as that it seldom arres.   

81  
He speaketh to that friend to this effect,  
That he his wives nativity would cast,  
To learn if he did right or wrong suspect,  
That she would in his absence live unchaste:  
The man thus prayed, the figure doth erect,  
And in their place the Planets all he placed,  
Anselmus leaves him busy, and next day,  
Doth come to hear him what he hath to say.   

82  
'twas long before th'Astronomer would speak,  
As loath to speak, that would the judge offend,  
With many scuses frivolous and weak,  
He shifts him off, but urged by his friend,  
He told him flatly she would wedlock break,  
And that she would to him prove false in th'end,  
Not moved by beauty, not by suit desired,  
But e'en for lucre's sake directly hired.   

83  
Now when Anselmus former bad belief,  
Was newly reconfirmd by Spheres supernal,  
It doubtless did so much augment his grief,  
I think his torture past the pains infernal:  
And more than all the rest, this grieved him chief,  
And to his heart a corsive was eternal,  
To think that Avarice should her entice,  
Upon her chastity to set a price.   

84  
Yet to prevent all that such mind might breed,  
Most earnestly he bendeth all his power,  
For (as they say) man is compelled by need,  

〈◊〉 selum 〈◊〉 est.  To rob the Church, and hallowed things devour,  
His jewels, plate, and stock that did exceed,  
He put all in her hands, that present hour,  
And made it all her own by deed of gift,  
And told her plain what was herein his drift.   

85  
He saith he gives it her on this condition,  
Not that she should strive to increase or mend it,  
For why (he said) she should have free commission,  
To sell, to give, cast it away, and spend it,  
But only that she should avoid suspicion,  
Of wedlock breach, and by no means offend it,  
On this condition, all he then bequeathes her,  
That he may find her such as now he leaves her.   

86  
He further doth her earnestly exhort,  
That presently when he is gone away,  
She should for more eschewing of resort,  
Not any longer in the City stay,  
But at his country house, where in good sort,  
Till his return the season pass she may:  
Belike, he thought in tilers of the ground,  
And country swains, enticements none are found.   

87  
His lovely wife Argia, all this space,  
Still hanging on his neck while he did speak,  
With kindly tears bedewed all his face,  
And much it grieved her to be judged so weak,  
And to be deemed so devoid of grace,  
That in his absence she would wedlock break,  
Her manners have not been so light and vicious,  
She saith, to move him to be thus suspicious.   

88  
I should too long in this one matter dwell,  
If all that past between them two at large,  
When he departed, I to you should tell,  
Still itterating that his former charge:  
Now on his way he goes, God speed him well,  
The grief was great that d●d his heart surcharge,  
But thus they part, her eyes all full of tears,  
His mind of jealousies, and thousand fears.   

89  
This while Adonio looking pale and wan,  
As erst I told, and over grown with hear,  
To travel to his country-ward began,  
In hope that no man now would know him there,  
He travels in the secretest sort he can,  
Unseen, unknown, till he arrived where,  
He rescued had the snake, seven years before,  
That by the clown pursued was so sore.   

90  
Arriving at this place by break of day,  
He saw a Lady walking near the lake,  
Who though she seemed attired in strange array,  
Yet for some great estate one would her take,  
Her countenance did such majesty bewray:  
She toward him with stately gate did make,  
And looking on him with a gracious cheer,  
She spoke these words so loud as he might hear.   

91  
Gentleman, though you do not know my face,  
Yet am I bound to you, and am your friend,  
I am your cousin, and of Cadmus' race  
Our royal stock doth lineally descend,  
I am that Manto, that in yond same place,  
To build that town did first begin and end,  
And Mantua, according to my name,  
'tis called, as you perhaps have heard by fame.   

92  

Of Fairies, look on the History.  I am a Fairy, and to make you know,  
To be a Fairy what it doth import,  
We cannot die how old so ere we grow:  
Of pain and harms of every other sort  
We taste, but yet no death we nature owe;  
But which is worse than if our lives were short,  
Each seu'nth day we constrained are to take,  
Upon ourselves the person of a snake.   

93  
To be transformed to Serpents ugly hue,  
That creepeth still, and on his belly goth,  
Is such a grief to us, to tell you true,  
Not one of us but then to live doth loath.  
Now that I further may declare to you,  
From whence this kindness that I spoke of, growth,  
Know this, what day we have this cursed shape,  
We hardly dangers infinite escape.   

94  

Thence comes the saying (cane pe●●● & angue)  No living thing is loathed more than they,  
So that no sooner one of us is spied,  
But we are chaste and hunted out strait way,  
And if we find no place ourselves to hide,  
They lay on load, and beat us so that day,  
That we the pain thereof long after bide,  
And who would not rather one death have choosed,  
Then beaten evermore to be and bruised?   

95  
Now Sir, the benefit that I confess  
I have received, in which your merit stands,  
Was this some seven years since, or not much less,  
As you did wander o'er these woods and lands,  
You saved me from danger and distress,  
I should have suffered at a villains hands:  
Who though he could not slay me, near the latter,  
Did seek with cudgel me to bruise and batter.   

96  
For why those days that we be snakes (she saith)  
And creeping groveling, bellies on the ground,  
The heavens, that other times our hest obay'th,  
Denies their aid, in us no force is found:  
Sometimes the Sun at our commandment stay'th,  
The steady earth doth move and runneth round,  
And we can by our power, cause in a trise,  
IIse turn to flame, and fire congeal to Ise.   

97  
Now hear I come, your curtsy to require,  
Which seven years since, I to me done did note,  
Now to reward you I have power and might,  
While I am free from serpent's cursed cote,  
Three times your father's wealth, you shall ere night  
Possess, and I will set you so afloat,  
You never shallbe poor, to your lives end,  
But ever have the more, the more you spend.   

98  
And (for I know that in your former knot,  
In which love bound you first, you still are tie)  
I will direct you so, by ways I wot,  
Your suit shall not be unto you denied.  
Now that the jealous judge at home is not,  
Go thither strait, and I will be your guide,  
She now is●t her husband's country village,  
Attending there good huswifrie and tillage.   

99  
She further doth at large to him devise,  
How he shall go, in what apparel clad,  
How he shall tempt her, in what manner wise,  
And how to grant his suit, she should be glad;  
Then told she how she would herself disguise,  
For why, for ever in her power she had,  
Except the days, in which she was a snake,  
What shape she lift, upon herself to take.   

100  
Thus she disguish him like a Pilgrim poor,  
That on his shoulders doth a wallet bear,  
And doth for God's sake beg from door to door,  
A gown of Friars grey she made him wear,  
A strange apparel for a gallant wooer:  
Into an Island dog, with shagged hear,  
As white as Ermine, and the pretiest else,  
That ever nature made, she changed herself.   

101  
And thus unto Argias they resort,  
First to some utter rooms, in which were biding,  
The Hinds and labourers of meaner sort,  
Hear he with certain pipes of his providing,  
His dog made dance, and make such pretty sport,  
That glad was he could bring his mistress tiding,  
Who needs would see as much as they had seen,  
Such was the Doctor's destiny I ween.   

102  
Adonio to her presence thus admitted, 
Look in the Allusion.   
Commands the dog which in all points obeyed,  
His turns, his dances, and his gestures fitted,  
So due and just, to all the Pilgrim said.  
They musd to see a dog so rarely witted,  
And marking still the qualities he played,  
In seeing them they take great mirth & pleasure,  
And praised the little dog beyond all measure.   

103  
Much wonder first but after much desire,  
Bred in the judges wife, the dog to get,  
She bids the nurse the dog to buy or hire,  
And try what price the man thereof would set:  
Dame (said the Pilgrim) had your mistress by her,  
In coined gold, as much as ever yet,  
A woman's thought did wish, it would not boot,  
Of this same dog of mine to buy on foot.   

104  
And plain to show that that was true he said,  
And that it rather better was then worse,  
He took her strait aside with him and prayed,  
The dog to give two ducats to the nurse,  
The dog but shook his ears, and out he laid  
The gold; there take and put it in thy purse  
Adonio saith, and think what price is able,  
To buy a dog that is so profitable.   

105  
What ere I ask, this dog to me will bring,  
Embroidered gowns and kittles cloth of gold,  
A chain of pearl, a jewel, or a ring,  
In shorter time than it can well be told;  
Yet tell my Lady this, she hath a thing,  
For which alone my Spaniel can be sold,  
To pay me gold or coin, I count it dodging, 
This was pl●●● dealing.   
But I will sell it her, for one night's lodging.   

106  
This said, he sent by her as for a token,  
A gem of passing price, then newly made;  
The nurse rewarded thus, and fairly spoken,  
And used (perhaps) to traffic in such trade,  
Went back there with, and having fitly broken  
The matter first, her mistress doth persuade,  
To buy the dog, and said she might archieue it,  
With such a price, as is no loss to give it.   

107  
At first, the fair Argia backward drew,  
As partly, being loath to break her faith,  
And partly doubting all could not be true,  
The which the tattling nurse before her laith;  
But she with oaths doth her first tale renew,  
And that such offers seldom come the saith,  
In fine she won her mistress to agree,  
Next day more privately the dog to see.   

108  
Adonios' next appearance in the place,  
Became the Doctor's ruin and confusion,  
Such ducats, such spur rials in like case,  
Such gems he showed indeed, or by illusion,  
He mollified thereby my Lady's grace,  
And moved her make the bargain in conclusion,  
And this did (than perhaps) the rather move her,  
When as she knew he was her ancient lover.   

109  
Thus her true lovers presence, and his prayer,  
The comforts of her nurse, that whorish drudge,  
The great rewards he presently did pay her,  
The absence long of that same jealous judge;  
And lastly, hope that sure none would bewray her,  
Wiped from her conscience scruple all and grudge,  
So that she took his dog, and for his laber,  
Gane him free leave to play upon her taber.   

110  
Thus now Adonio frankly reaped the fruit,  
Of that fair Ladies love that he had won,  
The which he followed still with sweet pursuit,  
Unto their like both: this while the Sun,  
Before the judge full ended had his suit,  
Through twice six signs his yearly course had run,  
And home he came at last, suspecting sore,  
That which th'Astronomer had told before.   

111  
But ere unto his own house he would go,  
First of th'Astronomer to ask he meant,  
If so his wife had taryd chaste or no,  
Since he from home on his embassage went:  
The cunning man, that meant the troth to show,  
Doth calculate, to see how stars were bend,  
And when that he the planets well had viewed,  
That she had played the quean, he doth conclude.   

112  
And that it was befallen as he foreshowed,  
How she, with mighty gifts and bribes alured,  
Herself upon another had bestowed.  
The wretched judge, with no small grief endured,  
To hear these news, & though too true he trowed  
The same, yet seeking to be more assured,  
He calls the nurse aside, at his home coming,  
And seeks to sist her with no little cunning.   

113  
With divers circumqu●ques and devices,  
He seeketh of the nurse to find the trace,  
But she in speech so wary and so nice is,  
As one be like well studied in the case,  
That all his cunning speech her not entices,  
But that she still denied with shameless face,  
That which the knew, and whereof her persuasion  
Had been in part, though not the chief occasion.   

114  
When as the jealous judge long time in vain,  
Had tempted her with promises and gifts,  
And that he saw for all his search and pain,  
He found less certainty, the more he sifts,  
He doth expect to try a further train,  
As one not unacquainted with such drifts,  
He watched a time, when they should fall to brawling, 
Sentence.   
As still where women are, is oft befalling.   

115  
And as he thought indeed so fell it out,  
The testy nurse one day not pleased well,  
Came unto him at their next falling out,  
And of her own accord, the truth doth tell:  
Think you, when as the judge had heard her out,  
How he did chafe, and fret, and fume, and swell,  
So near unto his heart and brain it sits,  
It little wanted to have reaved his wits.   

116  
And in this agony resolved to die,  
And finish both his own days and his wives,  
And so his grief, and her great shame thereby  
To wipe away, with ending both their lives,  
He turneth to the City by and by,  
As that same desperate desire him drives,  
And thence a trusty servant with instruction,  
He sends of purpose for his wives destruction.   

117  
He bids him tell Argia in his name,  
That on the sudden he was fallen so sick,  
That but to him without delay she came,  
The doubt was great she should not find him quick●  
Wherefore her journey with more speed to frame,  
To ride behind this man, who in a thick,  
That was right in the way unto the City,  
Had charge to kill her there without all pity.   

118  
And strait accordingly the servant went,  
To say and do, as much as he was bidden,  
But she foretold of that their fell intent,  
(For nothing from her little dog was hidden)  
And taught withal, the same how to prevent,  
Away with this savie servant she is ridden,  
And in few hours arrived at the wood,  
Where he was purposed to have shed her blood.   

119  
Then did he tell to her his masters will,  
And drew his sword a speedy death to give her,  
He only offered, ere he would her kill,  
To grant her time, to pray God to forgive her:  
I cannot tell you by what manner skill,  
She did herself forth of his hands deliver,  
But gone she was, he seeking all about,  
And for his life he could not find her out.   

120  
Back went the fellow, with astonished face,  
With trembling heart, and courage all dismayed,  
And made his master, at the wondrous case,  
No less than he had been afore afraid,  
He knew not how; by Fairy Mantos' grace,  
His wife could when she list, have help and aid,  
For why the nurse that did the rest unfold,  
I knew not why, but this she never told.   

121  
The Doctor now was plagued with grief extreme,  
Far more than ever he had felt before,  

Proverb.  What erst was but a mote, is now a beam,  
Nor he one jot revenged is the more;  
His shame will now be blazed o'er all the Ream,  
And all men now, will laugh at him therefore,  
The former error might have been concealed,  
But this to all the world will be revealed.   

122  
He thinks that sure, upon this plain detection,  
Of his felonious mind, of which I spoke,  
She will, to keep her out of his subjection,  
To some great Lord, forthwith herself betake,  
And live in spite of him, with such protection,  
And so a mocking stock of him to make,  
But most he doubts, lest to some man she goth,  
As is a lecher, and a ruffian both.   

123  
Wherefore so soul a mischief to prevent,  
He spares no pain, no travel nor no cost,  
To every town, in Lombardie he sent,  
With letters and with messages in post;  
And further, he himself in person went  
To seek his wife that was so strangely lost,  
But all in vain, for why other abiding,  
No inkling he could hear, nor any tiding.   

124  
And to conclude, at last he called his man,  
That man that made to him the strange report,  
And bids him show the place, and if he can,  
Where his lewd mistress vanished in such sort:  
The servant strait to lead the way began,  
And to the place, together they resort,  
But (which was strange) where erst he left a wood,  
A wondrous stately Palace now there stood.   

125  
The fair Argia caused had this space,  
Her Fairy to erect there for her pleasure,  
An house of Alabaster in the place,  
Adorned and guilt, with cost beyond all measure:  
'twere hard to think, much less to tell with grace,  
What beauty was without, within what treasure;  

M● master was the knight of Mantoes, at whose hou●e Renaide supped.  My master's house, from whence last night you came,  
Was but a paltry Alehouse to this same.   

126  
Of costly Arras, there was so great plenty,  
Of beds of silk, embroidered, fresh, and new,  
As furnished chambers, more than ten times twenty,  
And halls, and whatsoever was in view,  
Cups, candlesticks, and bowls of stones most dentie,  
Of precious substance, and of sundry hue,  
To be employed for eating, and for drinking,  
And store of gold, and silk beyond all thinking.   

127  
Now sir, the wretched judge, as I said erst,  
That out to seek his wife had here assigned,  
And finds this house, in state as I rehearsed,  
Where he had nothing thought, but woods to find,  
With wonder great his mazed head was pierced,  
And doubted not a little in his mind,  
If so himself were sleeping then or waking,  
Or if his troubled brain, were in due taking.   

128  
He sees a Gipsen standing at the door,  
All blab-lipt, beetle browed, and bottle nozed,  
Most greasy, nasty, his apparel poor,  
His other parts, as Painters are disposed,  
To give to Aesop; such a Blackamoor  
Could not be seen elsewhere, as he supposed,  
So vile avilage, and so bad a grace,  
To make e'en Paradise alothsome place.   

129  
Anselmus seeing none but this same drudge,  
Went unto him, and praith him make it known,  
Whose house is this: the Gipsen tells the judge,  
That he himself, the stately house doth own:  
The judge, that he doth mock him sure doth judge  
And prays the certain truth to him be shown:  
The Negro doth affirm with many an oath,  
That that which he had said before, was troth.   

130  
And that he plainly might the truth perceive,  
He prays him view the house at better leisure,  
And offereth him free liberty and leave,  
Of any thing was there, at his own pleasure,  
For him or for his friends, to take and leave,  
And e'en as of his own, to make free feature:  
The Doctor marvels that such liberality,  
Could be in one, of so base show and quality.   

131  
But yet the judge, so fair and kind entreated,  
In friendly sort, doth from his horse alight,  
And sees the house, as I before repeated.  
With wonder great, and with as great delight,  
So richly hurnished, so Princely seated,  
So bravely built for use, as well as sight,  
And every part with other so agreeing,  
He could not satisfy his eyes with seeing.   

132  
Now when the judge came back again, he told  
He near saw house, so pleasing to his eye,  
And swears he thought that ten times Crasus gold,  
Were scant a price, so rare a house to buy:  
Yet may (the Negro saith) this house be sold,  
Though not for coin (for not for coin care I)  
Yet for some other ware, which sure I guess,  
You will esteem at price a great deal less.   

133  
In fine, he made to him the like request,  
As Sodomites did make for guests of Lot;  
The judge his motion doth and him detest,  
Who though five times repulsed, yet ceaseth not,  
But him with so large offers still he priest,  
That in conclusion, like a beastly sot,  
So as it might be done, in hugger mugger,  
The judge agreed, the Negro him should ().   

134  
Argia that there by unseen had stayed,  
And seen him fallen into the sin forenamed,  
Disclosed herself, and sharply did upbraid  
His filthy fact, that justly might be blamed;  
A judge (said she) reputed wise, and stayed,  
Sione thus? where with the Doctor was so shamed,  
He wished the earth would cleave unto the centre,  
That he to hide himself, therein might enter.   

135  
But she exclaimeth on him still anew,  
For his more shame, and for her more excuse,  
And said, what punishment were fit for you,  
For this foul sin, against all nature's use?  
That did no less than death to me think dew,  
For such a small and natural abuse,  
With one that loved me, and whose gift was such,  
As ten such houses are not worth so much.   

136  
If one death did unto my fault belong,  
One hundred deaths were fit to thine to give,  
And though myself am in this place so strong,  
That if I list, thou shouldst no longer live,  
Yet will I do to thee no further wrong,  
But pardon thee, and thou shalt me forgive,  

〈◊〉 used for 〈◊〉 reckonings. 〈◊〉 used 〈◊〉.  And quite each other, all old debts and driblets,  
And set the hare's head, against the goose gyblets.   

137  
And let henceforth peace follow in effect,  
As aught to be between the man and wife,  
Not ever tone to other once object,  
Our former fault in all our future life:  
The judge was glad, and did it not neglect,  
To take this friendly end of cursed stri●e;  
Thus as good friends, they lived many a year,  
And while they lived, they loved each other dear.   

138  
And there the steersman did his story end,  
With which he moved the worthy knight to lastre,  
Who blamed the Doctor, that did so offend,  
And talked of the same a good while after:  
But much he did Argias wit commend,  
Or at the least, the with of her that taught her,  
To make the judge into that net fall in,  
In which herself was fallen with far less sin.   

139  

'Tis lake is Pa ●●, of which 〈◊〉 speaks, 〈◊〉 the store 〈◊〉 but now 〈◊〉 almost dry.  Now when the Sun 'gan mount unto the South,  
A little Table in the ßarge was spread,  
And then the knight began to feed his mouth,  
When sleep his eyes, and talk his ears had fed:  
The Mantuan at his charges, him allowth,  
All fine Acates that that same country bred,  
The while his swimming vessel doth forsake  

* You is called 〈◊〉 of Lon●●●●● Filo, 〈◊〉 Poe runs 〈◊〉 six mile 〈◊〉.  The pleasant country, and unpleasant lake.   

140  
From thence, he held his course still forward right,  

* The standing 〈◊〉 to Ra●●●● 12. mile 〈◊〉 has now it is 〈◊〉 navigable.  The River running strait as any line,  
Which when they passed had with speedy flight,  
Upon the other hand they did decline:  

* ●pan● writes of 〈◊〉 calls it 〈◊〉 M●ssanisa.  And by a ditch, and standing pool in sight,  
Ere of that day, were spent full hours nine,  
Vnro Ravenna as they were commanded,  
They went, and there the brave Renaldo landed:   

141  
Although Renaldo could but seldom boast,  
Of store of coin, yet now such store he had,  
As to the Bargemen of his friendly host,  
He gave a largesse such, as made them glad:  
From thence to Rimini, he went in post,  
And changing horses still, now good, now bad,  
That night at Mountefior, he did but sup,  
And so t'Vrbyno, ere next Sun was up.   

142  
Then Caglie, and from thence the Alpes he passed,  
Then th'Vmbrys and Etruscians, thence to Rome,  
And so by Bark, to Ostia in great hast  
He went, and to that City he doth come,  
Which good Aeneas many ages past, 
That Cisie is called Trapania.   
Ennobled with his fire Anchyses tomb:  
Then strait by sea he went unto this I'll,  
Where I did leave Orlando, since a while. 
Orlando.    

143  
I mean that I'll, that Lippadusa height,  
Wherein the famons warriors, three to three,  
The combat that I spoke of erst did fight,  
The which Renaldo longing sore to see,  
With oars and sails, made all the hast he might,  
But yet for all his haste, it would not be,  
The wind did for his purpose serve so slack,  
More than an hour too late it kept him back.   

144  
So that e'en much about that time he came,  
When as Orlando had that conquest won,  
In which unto his everlasting same,  
Two Turkish Princes, unto death were done;  
Yet was some sorrow mingled with the same,  
Both for the death of Monodantés son,  
And Oliveros hurt, of which he found  
Such grief, he could not set his foot to ground.   

145  
Now as the Earl Renaldo did embrace,  
He could not choose, but shed a stream of tears,  
When as he showed him, in the present place,  
Good Brandimart, to whom such love he bears,  
Lie newly slain, with pale and lifeless face:  
Likewise to weep, Renaldo not forbears,  
To see his death, and eke his cousins bruise,  
So grievous, that his foot he could not use.   

146  
Renaldo comforts them in all he may,  
Although himself of comfort tasted least,  
And chief to think by his unlucky stay,  
He was come tardy, to so great a feast:  
This while the woeful servants did convey,  
Their master's corpses, to the town distressed,  
I mean Bisetta, where they made it known,  
Which side prevailed, and which was overthrown.   

147  
Of this same conquest that Orlando won,  
Astolso and stout Sansonet were glad;  
Yet joyed they not, so as they would have done,  
If Brandimart his death then had not had:  
The fall of noble Monodantés son,  
Strake them into a dump and made them sad,  
But who shall now impart to Fiordeliege,  
The woeful loss, of her dear Lord and liege?   

148  

Fiordeliege her dream.  Herself had dreamt a strange dream overnight,  
Which did her mind, in fearful sort dismay,  
She dreamt the bases of her loved knight,  
Which she embroidered black this other day,  
With spots of red were powdered all in sight,  
And on the same, like storm of hailstones lay;  
That she had done it so, she sure believed,  
And with the thought thereof, was greatly grieved.   

149  
She further thought, that to herself she said,  
Did not my Lord command me black to make it,  
What meant I then to mixed it so with red,  
And in so strange a manner to mistake it?  
And ill presage in her this fancy bred,  
And for an evil token she did take it,  
Then came these news which none imparted with her,  
Till th' English Duke, and Sansonet came thither.   

150  
When they came in, and that she well had heeded  
Their count'nances, in such a conquest sad,  
No further news, no further notice needed,  
To make her know, they brought her tidings bad:  
Forthwith her grief, and sorrow so exceeded,  
Scarce any power her vital spirits had,  
But presently in pale, and deadly sound,  
She fell in woeful trance upon the ground.   

151  
But when that life came to his course again,  
Her tender checks, and her fair hair she tore,  
Oft calling on his loved name in vain,  
Whose loss had bred in her such woeful care,  
She screeches and cries out, with grief and pain,  
Like those with devils that possessed are,  

Maenads, were they that sacrificed to Bacthus.  Or as the Maenads, with sound of home,  
In furious manner all about were borne.   

152  
This man, and that, to lend she doth entreat  
A knife, wherewith herself she murder may,  
Strait to the haven she runs with fury great,  
There where the bodies of the dead kings lay,  
With mind to mangle them, and bruise and beat:  
Then to the sea she will, there is no nay,  
And pass to Lippaduse, and there abide.  
And end her life, by Brandimarts dear side.   

153  
Ah Brandimart my loved Lord (she said)  
What meant I without me, to let thee part?  
Ay me unlucky wretch, in that I stayed,  
And was not present there, to take thy part;  
Mine eye might unto thee, have been an aid,  
My voice might have assisted thee in part,  
And if Gradasso thee behind had stricken,  
One cry of mine, might thee both warn & quicken   

154  
Or else perhaps, so well I might have sped me,  
As to have stepped the blow and thee between,  
If thou hadst scaped, although it did behed me,  
I would have said, that it had happy been:  
Now die I will, though death no whit can stead me,  
And though I know, my death is fruitless clean,  
Whereas if I had died in thy defence,  
My death had profit bred, and not offence.   

155  
And if the heavens had been so hard in this,  
That I could not have holp thee in the place,  
At least my last farewell, and solemn kiss,  
I should have given thee, and thy lovely face,  
Bedewed with tears, and ere to heavenly bliss,  
They soul had flown, I should have had the space,  
To say, depart from hence in peace my dear,  
And know, I have not long to tarry hear.   

156  
Is this (dear Brandimart) is this thy reign, 
Damagyre the Realm of which Brandamart was King.   
Of Damagyre, whose sceptre I should take?  
Is this the dower, thou dost to me or deign?  
Is this the royal seat, of which you spoke?  
Ah fortune hard, how frivolous and vain,  
Dost thou my hopes, and my designments make?  
Ah why cease I, sith so great good is rest me,  
To cast away what ever else is left me?   

157  
With this, again so great her fury grew,  
She made upon herself a fresh assault,  
And her fair hair, she rend, and tore anew,  
As if her hair, had been in all the fault,  
e'en from her tender cheeks the blood she drew,  
Still dewing them, with watery tears and salt:  
But let her here awhile lament, and mourn,  
For to Orlando I must now return.   

158  
Who with his kinsman that did now require,  
Some cunning Leech his grievous wound to cure,  
And (for to Brandimar: he did desire,  
To give an honourable sepulture,)  
To that hill went that doth the night with fire  
Make clear, and doth the day with smoke obscure, 
The mount Aetna, in Sicily.   
And so the wind did favour his intent,  
In twenty hours, he came to Agringent.   

159  
Here when they were down from their ships alighted,  
The Sun e'en then preparing to go down,  
They sent abroad and in great haste invited,  
The chief Nobility of all the town:  
Strait at the shore, of torches store was lighted,  
And many men of honour and renown,  
When as Orlando to the shore returned,  
Went with him to the corpse, and with him mourned   

160  
There Bardyn stood, a man well strick in years,  
And in such sort to wail he did persever,  
That with abundant shedding of his tears,  
Men thought he would have lost his eyes for ever;  
To blame the heu'ns, and stars, he not for bears,  
But roaring like a Lion in a fever,  
Tear his grey hair, and all about it sprinkled,  
And spared not his aged skin, and wrinkled.   

161  
When as the Palladine approached near,  
Strait doubled was the mourning noise and cry,  
Each strived who should most sorrowful appear,  
And every one lift up his voice on high;  
Orlando with more heavy heart, than cheer,  
Still keeping fixed on the bear his eye,  
When silence first, by signs procured he had,  
Pronounced these words, with mourning voice & sad   

162  

〈◊〉 fa●● Orat. o●●●●●mart.  O stout, o dear champion mine, and friend,  
That here art dead, but liv'st in heavenly seat,  
Where thy great joys shall never have an end,  
Nor ever be impaird with cold or heat:  
Yet pardon me in that I do offend,  
To wail my woe, and misery so great,  
My sorrow is not, for thy parting hence,  
But that myself am so long absent thence.   

163  
To think that he is severed now so far,  
In whom I joyed, this doth my pain increase,  
I was with thee, in tempests, and in war;  
Why am not I with thee in calm and peace?  
O miry flesh, that me from bliss doth bar,  
Why cannot I obtain a like release,  
Sith still I was copartner of thy pain,  
Why am I kept from part of so great gain?   

164  
To you the happy guerdon, and the gain,  
To us the loss, and damage all is left,  
France, Germany, and Italy complain,  
Their chief defence, and their chief buckler rest:  
How shall my Prince, and uncle now sustain,  
(Deprived of so good help) so great a heft,  
Thy loss of succour hath bereaved wholly,  
Both holy Church, and eke the Empire holy.   

165  
The Pagans whom thou dantedst in thy life,  
How will they gather heart now with thy death?  
How will they stir new storms of fearful strife,  
Now having so good means, to gather breath?  
But how great sorrow, will thy dearest wife  
Sustain? me thinks I hear e'en now she seth  
I am to blame, and that she hates me most,  
And saith by me, she hath her world's joy lost.   

166  
Yet Fiordeliege, this comfort may revive  
Both thee, and all that for his death are sorry,  
That all the valiant knights that him survive,  
Have cause to envy, and admire his glory:  
The Deccis, nor the knight, that leapt alive  

〈◊〉, leoke 〈…〉  In Curtain lake, so praised in Latin story,  
Nor Codrus by the greeks so magnified,  
With greater praise, nor honour never died.   

167  
These words, and such as these Orlando spoke,  
The while the Fryres, both white, & black, and grey  
A solemn, and a long procession make,  
In goodly rank, and in devout array:  
That God to heaven, the dead man's spirit take,  
Requiem aeternam, for his soul they pray,  
And tapers in the midst, before, behind,  
Did cause that knight, like to the noon day shined.   

168  
Then divers Earls, and knights, the hearse uphold,  
All over which a mantle rich was spread,  
Of purple silk, embroidered brave with gold,  
And with fair pearl, and stone well garnished,  
Of equal cost and beauty to behold,  
The coffin was, that held the body ded,  
Provided by the Palladine to be,  
Fit for his calling, and his high degree.   

169  
Three hundred people, of the poorer sort,  
Of dweller: that inhabited the town,  
Unto the funerals did then resort,  
And unto each was given a mourning gown;  
An hundred Pages, mounted in good sort,  
On warlike steeds, clothed to the ground adown,  
And both the Pages, and the gallant steeds,  
From top to toe, were clad in mourning weeds.   

170  
Then bare they divers banners fair displayed,  
And painted divers arms, that he obtained  
From armed bands alone, without all aid,  
And had to Caesar and to Peter gained:  
With hunderds more, all in black gowns arrayed,  
To whom were divers offices ordained,  
And last Renaldo, and Orlando came,  
But Olivero stayed (for he was lame.)   

171  
It long would be ere I could it rehearse,  
And tell what ceremonies used wear,  
Nor can I comprehend [] well in verse,  
How orderly they were accomplished there:  
Unto the chiefest Church, they bore a hearse,  
The while nor old nor young, to weep for bear,  
His nobleness, his value, and his youth,  
Did breed in all their hearts, so wondrous ruth.   

172  
Now when the women finished had, and done,  
Their bootless weeping, and their fruitless pain,  
The Priest had said, their Kyrieleisonne,  
And all the rites, that there-unto pertain:  
The carcase of great Monodantes son,  
So chested, on two columns to remain  
Orlando caused, till time he might procure,  
A costly, and more stately sepulture.   

173  
From Sicily Orlando not departs,  
Till he for Touch, and Porpherle had sent,  
And all that were most skilful of those arts,  
Had talked with all, and told them his intent:  
Then Fiordeliege coming to those parts,  
Her time, her travel, and her treasure spent,  
To make the tomb most stately for her spouse,  
At which to spend her future time she vows.   

174  
And sith her plaints and tears were never tired,  
In that self place she mean, her days to pass,  
And for her husband's soul, she still desired  
Continual Dirges, and perpetual Mass;  
From company herself she quite retired,  
And to the place (such her devotion was)  
That by the tomb, she built a little cell,  
In which till death, she purposed to dwell.   

175  
Orlando divers messages did send  
To her, and after that in person went,  
To fetch her into France, and did pretend,  
That her to place with Galeran he meant, 
Orlando's mother   
Or if the time, in prayer she still would spend,  
He would a Nunnery build for that intent,  
Or that he would, if so she so had rather,  
Attend her to her country, and her father.   

176  
But at the tomb she tarride obstinate,  
And would trow thence by no mean be removed,  
Still doing, saying, both betime and late,  
Penance and prayers, for him that she so loved,  
Till death in th' end, cut off her doleful date,  
And sent her soon, to find her dear beloved:  
But now the knights of France, from Sicill parted,  
For loss of their companion heavy hearted.   

177  
And Oliver still of his foot complained,  
For why no salve, nor surgery prevailed,  
But that he was with grief so greatly pained,  
They doubted that his life would then have failed:  
Thus while they all in doubtful dump remained,  
The man that steered the bark in which they sailed,  
Did make to them this motion sage and wise,  
And they agreed to follow his advise.   

178  
He told them that not far from thence there dwelled,  
An Hermit in a solitary place,  
That so in sanctity of life excelled,  
That he could remedy each doubtful case;  
Diseases divers were by him expelled,  
Dumb, blind, and lame were healed such was his grace  
And that he could with one sign of the cross,  
Alloy the waves when they do highest toss.   

179  
In fine, he told them sure there was no doubt,  
To find relief, e'en present at the hands  
Of that same man, so holy and devour,  
As scarce his match, was found in many lands.  
Orlando having heard the Pilot out.  
Inquired of the place which way it stands,  
And presently the place to him was showed,  
And toward it, in hast they sailed and rowed.   

180  
Next morning they discovered all the I'll,  
But kept aloof, so as their ship might float,  
And there they cast their anchor, and the while,  
Conveyed the wounded marquess in a boat,  
Upon the shallow waves, scant half a mile,  
Unto the blesled Hermits simple coat,  
That very Hermit, that before but late,  
Had brought Rogero unto Christian state.   

181  
The man of God, that had his dwelling hear,  
Came forth, and met Orlando at the gate,  
And welcomed him, with kind and friendly cheer,  
Enquiring of his arrant, and their state,  
(Although to him, it was apparent clear:  
For God that night, had sent his Angel late,  
To tell the Saint thereof) Orlando said,  
His arrant was, to get his kinsman aid.   

182  
Who had a great and grievous maim received,  
In fight for the Empire, and the saith,  
And was of hope and comfort, quite bereaved.  
Be of good cheer (the godly Hermit saith)  
Who trust in God shall never be deceived;  
Yet ointment none unto his hurt he layeth,  
But first to Church he goeth, and makes his prayer.  
Then with great boldness, doth to them repair.   

183  
And calling on that treble sovereign name,  
Of God the Father, Son and holy Ghost,  
He blessed the knight, that maimed was and lame,  
(Oh wódrous grace, of which Gods saints may boast)  
Strait to his use each vain and sinew came,  
No part of all his former strength was lost,  
And as it pleased God, of his great grace,  
Sobrino present was then in the place.   

184  
And being now so weak with bleeding brought,  
That e'en his vital spirits were almost spent,  
And seeing plainly such a wonder wrought,  
So great, so gracious and so evident,  
To leave his Macon he thereby was taught,  
And to confess our Christ omnipotent,  
He prayed in most contrite, and humble manner,  
To be a soldier under Christian banner.   

185  
The just old man did grant him his request,  
And Christened him and did his health restore,  
At which Orlando stout, and all the rest,  
Rejoiced much, and praised God therefore.  
Rogero eke as joyful as the best,  
Increased in devotion more and more,  
To see those mysteries divine, and Oracles,  
Confirmed so by plain apparent miracles.   

186  
Thus all this company in sweet comfort,  
In this same blessed Hermit's house do stay,  
Who doth them all, most fatherly exhort,  
To bend their whole endeavours all they may,  
That in this Inn, where man's abode is short,  
They seek to wash away the dirt and clay,  
That some call life, and greatly do commend,  
And sole to heaven, their eyes and hearts to bend.   

187  
Then sent Orlando to his ship in haste,  
For bread and wine, and other dainty dishes,  
And this old man, whom abstinence and fast,  
Had made forget the taste of beasts or fishes,  
Of charity, they prayed some flesh to taste,  
And he therein consented to their wishes,  
And when they all had eat to their contents,  
They found discourse of sundry arguments.   

188  
And as in speech it often doth be fall,  
That one thing doth another bring to light,  
Rogero was at last known to them all,  
For that Rogero, that excelled in fight;  
The first that him to memory did call,  
Was Sobrin, who did know him well by sight:  
The next that knew his lovely look and stately,  
Was good Renaldo, that fought with him lately.   

189  
They all do come to him with friendly face,  
When of his Christendom they understand,  
And some do kiss him, others him embrace,  
In kindest sort, some take him by the hand,  
But chief Renaldo strives, to do him grace:  
Yet if that you desire to understand,  
Why more than all the rest Renaldo sought it,  
Turn over the leaf and there you shall be taught it.   
In the tale of the Mantuan knight may be gathered this good moral, 
Moral.  that it is no wisdom to search for that a man would not find: and how the first breach commonly of the sweet concord of matrimony, groweth of jealousy, I must confess, these be two knavish tales that be here in this book, and yet the Bee will pick out honey out of the worst of them. For mine own part I have ever been of opinion, that this tale of the Mantuan knight, is simply the worst against women in all the book, or rather indeed that ever was written. The host's tale in the xx viij book of this work, is a bad one: M. Spencer's take of the squire of Dames, in his excellent Poem of the Fairy Queen, in the end of the seven. Canto of the third book, is to the like effect, sharp and well conceited; in substance thus, that his Squire of Dames could in three years travel, find but three women that denied his lewd desire: of which three, one was a courtesan, that rejected him because he wanted coin for her: the second a Nun, who refused him because he would not swear secreacie, the third a plain country Gentlewoman, that of good honest simplicity denied him: which also hath some likeness with that of Pharaoh I spoke of in the notes upon the 42. book: but this of the Mantuan knight passeth them all, if you mark the secret drift of it: showing how a woman of so excellent education, so great learning, so rare beauty, so fine wit, so choice qualities, so sweet behaviour, so abundant wealth, so dearly beloved by her husband, could so easily be conquered with the sight of three or four jewels: and then for his comfort, how for ten years after, he being a great house keeper, all his married guests that came to him spilled the drink in their bosoms. This tale (admitting it to be true or probable) would argue women to be of exceeding covetousness, but lo how easily all this is not only to be excused for them, but retorted upon men: for assuredly it is only the covetouseness of men, that maketh women (as we interpret it) to sell their chastities: for women indeed care for nothing but to be loved, & where they assure themselves they are loved, there of their kind and sweet dispositions, they bestow love again. Now because men can protest and swear, and vow that which they think not, therefore no marvel if women are hard of belief, and thick listed to hear them: but when they come to give things that cost money, and that the coin begin to walk, which they are sure men esteem so dearly, as they venture both body and soul for it many times, than no marvel if they believe them, and think them to be in good earnest, and consequently yield to that they denied before. But to go forward with the rest of the moral, both men and women may gather this moral out of both these tales; that as all vice is odious and base, so that which a body is hired unto, is most shameful and detestable.  
Of the Fairy Manto I cannot affirm any thing of truth, 
History.  whether she were a Fairy or a Prophetess, but this I find wrtiten of her, that when Thebes was razed by Alexander, this Manto daughter of Tyresia, being learned in Magic as well as her father, came unto that part of Italy, where Mantua is now, and there her son Ocnus (as Virgil will have it) built that City, and called it after his mother's name. 
Ille etiam patrijs ignem ciet Ocnus ab oris,  
Fatidicae Mantus, & Thusei filius amnis,  
Qui muros; matrisque dedit tibi Mantua nomen.  Concerning those brave men with whom Orlando compareth Brandimart, the Deccis. M. Curtius, and Codrus of the Deccis, one of them had a dream or vision, that told him how in the battle which he was to fight next day with the Latins the Captain of one side, and the army of the other side should perish, whereupon he being then Consul, ran wilfully on his enemies and was slain, and so got the victory for the Romans. His son Decius did the like after him: Curtius leapt into the gulf, that was prophesied should never be stopped, till the most precious jewel the Romans had were thrown: into the same.  
Codrus died thus, the Dorians having war with the Athenians, the Oracle told them of Athens, that if Codrus were slain by the enemies, than the Athenians should have the victory: this news being noised in the Dovians camp, they gave strait charge that none should kill Codrus; but he minding to die for the defence of his country, countersaited himself like a peddler, or such like, and came to the camp of enemies, and picking a quarrel there of purpose with some of the soldiers, was slain among them.  
The cup presented to Renaldo, 
Allusion  is allegorically to be understood for suspicion, which whosoever drinketh of, it is great odds he sheds it so into his bosom, as he shall drink the worse after it while he lives, and therefore Renaldo said well, 
Drink of the cup, (quoth he) that list, not I I am not, nor I mind not to be dry.   
For the Mantuans tale, 
Allegory.  it is not unlike to that of Shafalus in Ovid's Metamorphosis, in the seventh book, where he tells how in the like sort changed by necromancy, he tempted his wife so far, 
Dum census dare me promitto, loquendo  
Muneraque augendo, tandem dubitare coegi.  I have heard of a Gentleman that would needs court his own wise in a mask, causing her to be told he was some other man; and made love so long to her, till he found himself more gracious with her, than he had cause to beast of.  
As for the Fairy Manto, whether there be any Fairies or no, I will not dispute the matter, but I have heard strange tales reported by credible persons, of these witches and spirits whatsoever they be; and I have heard it often among the simpler sore, that he that can please the Queen of Fairies; shall never want while he lives; and it seems the like opinion hath crept into other countries, though taken but as a fable, or as the saying is, 
It may be in my Paternoster indeed,  
But sure it never shall come in my Creed.  Marry for the shaghaird dog, that could dance to please Ladies so well, and had such pretty qualities, I dare undertake my servant Bungy (whose picture you may see in the first page of the book, and is known to the best Ladies of England) may compare with any Pilgrim's dog that served such a saint this seven year: only he wants that quality to shake ducats out of his ears. But now to leave these toying tales, and fall to the soberer matter, the solemn suneralls of Brandimart and Orlando's mourning, alludes to the burial of Pallas, or Pallante in Virgil: Bardino to Acetes: and Orlando to Aenas: but this here is set forth with denout and Christian terms, and therefore more to be commended.  
Here end the notes of the 43. book.   

  

THE XLIIII. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Renaldo to Rogero gives his sister,  
Against Duke Ammon and their mother's will:  
Rogero doubting lest he should have missed her,  
Vows Leon and his father both to Kill:  
He leaveth France, and to the stream of Ister,  
He rides and travels in those parts, until  
He found the Bulgars fight with the greeks,  
And aideth those, because he these mislikes.  

1  
OFt times we see, in house of mean estate,  

Of friendship.  In fortune bad, and chances overthwart,  
That men do sooner lay aside debate,  
And join in sound accord with hand and hart,  
The prince's courts, where riches gender hate,  
And wild suspect, that loving mind doth part,  
Where charity is clean consumed and vanished,  
An friendship firm, is quite cast out and banished.   

2  
Hence comes it that twixt Princes and great Lords,  
Agreements all, and covenants are so frail,  
Today Kings, Popes, and Emperors make accords  
Tomorrow deadly wars, with tooth and nail:  
And why? their thoughts still vary from their words,  
They keep not oaths, but for their own avail:  
Nor weigh they wrong or right, or reckon of it,  
But as the same may turn to their own profit.   

3  
Now though such men, as yet were never taught,  
What friendship is, nor ever knew the same,  
(For friendship never grows where there is nought  
But shows disguised, in earnest or in game)  
Yet if ill fortune them so low have brought,  
To meet in meaner place, they strait do frame  
Their proud hy minds to friendship true and plain,  
Which erst they knew not, or they did disdain.   

4  
The saintlik man, had in his Cell more power,  
His guests in firm and sound accord do bind,  
Than others should have had in Princely bower:  
And more, this friendship was of such a kind,  
That ever after, from that present hour,  
e'en to their ends, they all agreed in mind:  
Appearing to this old man and devout,  
As white within, as Swans are white without.   

5  
He found them all both gentle kind, and meek,  
And not in sort of which I erst complained,  
Of those that never think and speak alike,  
But ever go with speech, and visage feigned.  
They clear forgot all grudge, and old mislike;  
No sign, nor memory thereof remained:  
But love together, as if they had come,  
All of one seed, and lain all in one worn.   

6  
But good Renaldo could by no means rest,  
To show Rogero kindness great and love,  
Both for his prowess great, and valiant breast,  
Which hand to hand, in fight he late did prove:  
And for his curtsy, that did pass the rest,  
And was praise worthy all the rest above:  
But chief the cause was this, because he found,  
His friends to him had sundry ways been bound.   

7  
He knew, for often he had heard it told,  
How first Rogero saved Richardet,  
Whom then Marsilio kept in cruel hold,  
Because with child he did his daughter get:  
And further, Bovos sons should have been sold,  
But them Rogero did at freedom set:  
These things in honour true, and reputation,  
He knew were matters of great obligation.   

8  
And though before he could no kindness show  
To him, while he professed himself a Turk,  
Yet now that him a Christian he did know,  
He would now let his love no longer lurk:  
Which when the Hermit saw, he was not slow,  
A farther kindness, them between to work: (them)  
He moves them (sith he so good friends had seen  
That he might make affinity between them.   

9  
He said it was foreshowd him from on high,  
That by the joining their two lines in one,  
Such offspring should arise, as under sky  
To pass or match the same, there should be none;  
Wherefore, he wisheth them, that by and by  
By his advise, they would agree thereon:  
Renaldo at his motion strait allows,  
That Bradamant should be Rogeros' spouse.   

10  
Orlando, Olivero soon to that,  
Gave their good will, and favour, and assent,  
Affirming that all France may joy thereat;  
They little knew how good Duke Ammon meant,  
To match his daughter higher far, and that  
King Charles thereto did willingly consent:  
To Leon namely Constantynos' hair,  
Emperor of Greece, who sought the Lady fair.   

11  
Duke Ammon meant not such a match to shun,  
But yet his answer he a while deferred,  
Until such time as with his absent son,  
He had on such a weighty cause conferred:  
Not doubting but he thereto would be won,  
And glad to have his sister so preferred;  
But yet, though herein he did nothing doubt him,  
Yet would he not resolve thereon without him.   

12  
But now Renaldo absent from his father,  
And ignorant of that imperial plot,  
Unto Rogero promised her the rather,  
Because his present friends mi●●kt it not;  
But chief that he by th' Hermit's speech did gather,  
That God ordained it by eternal lot;  
And of his father firmly he believed,  
At such alliance he could not be grieved.   

13  
All that same day and night, and half the next,  
They made abode with that same saintlike fire,  
Still preaching, teaching them the blessed text,  
Expounding every place at their desire:  
The mariners with their long tarrying vexed,  
Oft sent to pray them to the ship retire,  
Because the wind blew well to serve their turn,  
Compelling them in fine, to make return.   

14  
Rogero that had lived in long exile,  
(Now glad to do as that old man would have him)  
Doth bid farewell, and left that happy I'll,  
When he had learned that faith that sole must save him,  
Orlando unto him his sword this while,  
And Hector's arms, and good Frontino gave him,  
Both to declare his love so much the more,  
And that he knew they had been his before.   

15  
And though the Palladine in common sense,  
Had juster claim unto the blade enchanted,  
As having won it in his own defence,  
Forth of the garden with foul spirits haunted,  
Whereas Rogeros' title and pretence,  
Came from Brunello, that of theft was taunted,  
Yet gave he it of his good nature merely,  
Although his right thereto appeared clearly.   

16  
Then by the holy man they all were blessed,  
And to their ship they made their back repair,  
Their oats for waves, their sails for winds addressed,  
Which then blew very temperate and fair:  
No fear of wrack, no doubt to be distressed;  
No need there was of vows, or yet of praire:  
But here I lean them sailing in fair wether,  
Till th' English Duke and them I bring together.   

17  
Who when the victory he understood  
Orlando got, of which he was less glad,  
Because the same was won with so much blood,  
And sith now France no fear of Africa had;  
To send Senapo home he thought it good,  
And therefore with a countenance grave and sad,  
Yet kind and friendly he did give him thank,  
For lending him his aid, so free and frank.   

18  
And Dudon sent a little while before,  
All that his great triumphant Navy back,  
Wherewith he plagued had the Turks so sore,  
And brought them all to ruin great and wrack:  
Which ships no sooner touched that Afric shore,  
And quite disburdened of the people black,  
But every ship his shape forsakes and leaves, 
Look in the Allegory, of miracles.   
And all of them were turned again to leaves.   

19  
And now on parting were the Nubian bands:  
Some mounted, some on foot pel mell together,  
The winds that wont to move the troublous sands,  
Astolfo gave their king in bags of leather,  
So firmly tied, and in so sured bands,  
As fear they need not any change of weather:  
And willed him, when they were past all ieoperty,  
That they should grant unto the wind his liberty.   

20  
Turpino writes that they no sooner came,  
Unto the mountain Atlas stony root,  
But that their horses, stones again became,  
And so they all went home again on foot:  
But after how each thing with them did frame,  
In this discourse to tell it shall not boot:  
Now tell we of your English Dukes proceeding,  
Of his return to France, and of his speeding.   

21  
Who having rulers for those parts ordained,  
That might as pleased, them ruin or repair,  
No longer then in Africa remained,  
But unto France he quickly did repair:  
By land or sea, to travel he disdained,  
But with his winged beast he cuts the air,  
And quickly came to Province where he did,  
As much as erst th' Evangelist did bid.   

22  
Which was that entered into Province, he  
Should take away his saddle and his rains,  
And grant him liberty, and set him free,  
And put him now unto no further pains:  
For Cinthia's sphere, in which our lost wits be,  
That maketh of our losses greatest gains,  
Had made his horn long since to lose his sound,  
That now no virtue in the same was found.   

23  
Now th' English Duke unto Marsilio came,  
And just at that same time arrived there,  
When those three Palladines of worthy same,  
With Sobrin and Rogero landed were:  
Much was their joy, yet lessoned was the same,  
And outward shows thereof they do forbear:  
So great a sadness in them all it bred,  
To think their friend king Brandimart was ded.   

24  
But Charles that from Sicilia notice had,  
How those two kings were slain, and Sobrine taken,  
And Brandimart deceased (which made him sad)  
And that Rogero had the Turks forsaken;  
Was in his mind now well paid and glad,  
That such a poise, he from his neck had shaken,  
Which for a long time had so grievous weighed,  
As he therewith was wellnigh overlayed.   

25  
Wherefore to do them honour, as was meet,  
That with their courage did his crown sustain,  
He sent his Peers and nobles them to greet,  
Unto the very confines of his reign:  
Himself in person, after did them meet,  
With Lords and Princes of his chiefest train:  
And near the town, the Queen with many a Lady  
Came forth, to do them honour all that may be.   

26  
King Charles himself with cheerful friendly face,  
The Palladines, their kinsfolk and their friends,  
The noble men, and people mean and base,  
To make them for their merits some amends,  
With friendly shouts did fill up all the place,  
Each man and every child his voice extends,  
And cried on those two houses of account,  
That of Mongrana, and of Clarimount.   

27  
Now to the Prince Rogero they did bring,  
And told him how he was apparent hair  
To Risa, and of that great house did spring:  
And while they spoke these words, Marfisa fair  
Saluted him in presence of the King,  
But Bradamant (who thither did repair)  
Yet kept herself aloof with more respect,  
Lest openly she should her love detect.   

28  
Then Charles doth welcome him with words most sweet,  
And used him like a man of rare account,  
And for he was alighted on his feet,  
For reverence sake, again ' he made him mount;  
And cheek by cheek, to ride through every street:  
He knew and joyed, that at the sacred fount,  
Rogero by the hermit was baptized,  
As he by former letters was advised.   

29  
In triumph and in feasts they spent the day,  
And riding through the town at sundry hours,  
Some straw green leaves, or rushes in the way,  
Some cast down garlands made of sundry flowers.  
The streets were hanged all with rich array,  
And damsels from the windows high and towers,  
To gratulate their prosperous deeds and haps,  
Cast showers of Roses from their tender laps.   

30  
At every corner, market-cross or gate,  
High arches triumph-like were new erected,  
Some of Bysertas fall and woeful state,  
Which they had overthrown and quite dejected:  
Some of the combat that was fought so late,  
With plays and new devices unexpected:  
Thus dedicate, and thus entitled wholly,  
To those Redeemers of the Empire holly.   

31  
With grateful sound, of instruments and voice,  
With sundry sweet and musical consorts,  
The people show how greatly they rejoice,  
With jubiles, and shouts, and plays, and sports.  
Then Charles and all his knights, and Baron's choice  
To his own house, and his own court resorts;  
And there with tilting, turneiss, and with plays,  
They spent a few of then ensuing days.   

32  
Renaldo taking time, upon a day, 
Renaldo motio\ns the marriage for Bradamant.   
The marriage matter to his father broke,  
And told him he had promised by the way,  
His sister should for spouse, Rogero take:  
By which, alliance such procure they may,  
As men may count great folly to forsake:  
In which himself the further did proceed,  
Because Orlando was thereto agreed.   

33  
With much disdain this speech Duke Ammon hard,  
Affirming, he presumptously had done,  
To promise so, sith he had now prepared,  
To match her to the Greekish Emp'rors' son:  
And not this private knight, who he had hard,  
Had not one foot of land scant under Sun: 
Sentence. The common opinion of the people   
Alas (quoth he) poor gentry small avails,  
And virtue less if land and riches fails.   

34  
But chiefly Ammon's wife, dame Beatrice,  
Doth call her son ungrate and arrogant,  
And thinks to work so by her wise advise,  
To make an Empress of her Bradamant:  
Renaldo much condemneth that device,  
Nor will not of his word one tittle want: 
Look of this in the Moral.   
But said his sister (under their correction)  
Would therein ruled be by his direction.   

35  
The mother (in her daughter much beguiled)  
Persuades with her, and comforts her to say,  
That she will rather die and be exiled,  
Then match someane, when higher match she may  
She saith, she will not take her for her child,  
If she will let her brother bear such sway:  
Wherefore (saith she) be bold, and do deny it,  
And with your brother, give me leave to try it.   

36  
Poor Bradamant doth silent stand and still,  
She dares not scarce in thought, for reverence sake,  
Gainsay her mother, or withstand her will,  
On other side, she dare not promise make,  
Of that, which to perform did pass her skill,  
And was above her power to undertake:  
No power she had in this, nor great nor small,  
For long ere this, love sealed on it all.   

37  
She dares not give consent, nor yet deny,  
She only sighs, and answer maketh none,  
But when she is alone that none are by,  
Unto herself she makes a piteous moan;  
She makes her breasts and her fair hair to try  
In part her grief, for why she beats the tone  
In spiteful wife, the other short she tears,  
And thus she speaks amid her plaints and fears.   

38  
Woe me, shall then my will and fancy vary  
From hers, whose will should rule and govern mine?  
Shall my will to my mothers be contrary,  
Or that di'daine, my mother doth design?  
Shall I presume with such a man to marry,  
At whom my parents both do so repine?  

Sentence.  What fouler blot can stain a damsels praise,  
Then when her parents will, she disobayes?   

39  
Shall then my mother's reverence, and my sites,  
Make me my dear Rogero to forget?  
And to new loves, new hopes, and new desires  
Be take myself, and him at nought to set?  
Or shall the reverence which their age requires,  
And which myself hath borne them ever yet,  
Be now forgot, and I be wholly bend,  
To mine own joy, and solace, and content?   

40  

〈◊〉 meliora 〈◊〉 Dese●●●a Siqu●r  I know (alas I know) my duty well,  
But power I have not to perform the same,  
My fancy reasons rule doth quite expel,  
And my well ordered thoughts, put out of frame:  
And tyrant Love, 'gainst whom who dare rebel,  
Makes me cast off all fear of others blame:  
My speech, my deeds, my thoughts he doth dispose,  
And ruleth them, against my will God knows.   

41  
To Ammon daughter, and to Beatrice  
I am, but unto Love I am a slave,  
Though I do now refuse their wise advise,  
Of them I may hereafter pardon have:  
But if I Love resist, who knows the price,  
Or who can me from his great fury save?  
He will not stay to hearken to my scuses,  
But slay me presently, for such his use is.   

42  
With much ado, and with long time I drew  
My dear Rogero, to the Christian faith,  
What profit doth thereof to me ensue,  
It still ill hap my purpose good gainsaith?  

Simile.  So doth the Bee, not for himself renew,  
The honey that in combs he safely laith:  
But sooner of my life they shall me reave,  
Then force me my Rogero dear to leave.   

43  
But though herein I disobey my mother,  
And father to, which I to do am loath:  
What though? yet I therein obey my brother,  
That is reputed wiser than they both:  
Orlando eke, for me speaks tone and tother,  
And favour will this match, how ere it goth;  
And sure I am, the world doth of them twain,  
Make more esteem than all our house again.   

44  
Sith then the world esteems and calleth those,  
The glory and the flower of Clarimount,  
Less shame it is for me, as I suppose,  
If that I suffer men of such account,  
Of me in marriage matters to dispose,  
That all my kin in credit do surmount:  
Beside they have the word directly spoken,  
But to the Greek the matter is but broken.   

45  
But now if Bradamant herself torment,  
And doth her evil hap bewail and blame,  
No doubt Rogero is as malcontent,  
Who had some privy inkling of the same:  
He secretly doth his ill state lament,  
And curseth fortune that unconstant dame,  
That had for wealth, so sparing left his lot,  
Which divers base unworthy men had got.   

46  
In each thing else that nature man can grant,  
Or that is got by industry or art,  
He knoweth, and each man saith that none canvaunt daunt,  
To have a greater, no nor such a part:  
His strength was such, no strength the same could  
His person past his strength; his noble hart,  
His Princely manners, and his brave behaviour,  
Won each man's love, each man's applause & favour.   

47  
But this same vulgar sort untaught and rude,  
That as them list distribute praise and shame,  
And (save the wise and learned) I include 
Sentence.   
All men that live on earth, within that name;  
For miters, states, nor crowns, may not exclude,  
Popes, mighty kings, nor Keysars from the same: 
Sentence.   
But only wisdom grave, and learning clear,  
Gifts given from heaven, that are not common hear   

48  
This vulgar sort (to tell my meaning out)  
That saving wealth and riches, nought admire, 
Sentence. Of the com●●●● oppon of mak●●● marriage.   
And nothing think praise worthy them without,  
And in their base conceits can look no hire:  
That be one ne'er so learned, so wise, so stout,  
Well shaped as eye can see, or heart desire,  
Well borne, well qualitied of sober carriage,  
They nought esteem all these in case of marriage.   

49  
Well (saith Rogero) if that Ammon needs  
Will make an Empress of his daughter dear,  
At least this hast he makes, is more than needs,  
Let him yet give me respite but one year:  
And if in that same year, I do such deeds,  
That both the son and sire, I vanquish clear:  
When both their crowns I conquered I have & won  
Then I may worthy be, to be his son.   

50  
But if he strait the marriage do effect,  
With Constantinos heir in so great haste,  
And will Renaldoes promise quite neglect,  
And eke his Cousins, which so few days past,  
Before that blessed man of Gods elect,  
And that good marquess, they did bind so fast:  
If they shall wrong me so, what then shall I?  
What can I do in such a case but die?   

51  
What should I do? shall I then be avenged  
Of him that me contraries in this wise?  
Let me be blamed herein, or commended,  
Let me therein be deemed a fool or wise:  
But would my state alas, be then amended  
By th' old man's death? no, no, far otherwise:  
I doubt this would not work my more content,  
But rather contrary my first intent.   

52  
My first intention was, and yet is still,  
That Bradamant should bear me love, not hate,  
Now then if I her father here should kill,  
Or ought attempt against her brother's state:  
Had she not cause of me to think then ill,  
And to refuse me for her spouse and mate?  
What shall I do? alas then shall I bear it?  
Ah no pardie, first I will die I swear it.   

53  
And yet I will not die, but I'll destroy  
That Leon that procured my harm and woe,  
And is desturber of my chiefest joy,  
Him and his father I will kill also:  

〈◊〉  Fair Helen to the lover lewed of Troy,  
Not cost so dear, nor longer far ago,  

〈…〉 the slory.  Proserpin cost Perythous price so high,  
As I will cause them this my grief to buy.   

54  
But were it possible (my dear) that thou,  
Canst leave thine own Rogero for this Greek?  
Yea though that all thy brothers did allow  
This match, which Ammon doth so fond seek?  
Yes yes, I fear that thine own mind doth bow  
To his desire, and could far better leek,  
When with thyself, thou dost these offers scan,  
To have a Caesar then a private man.   

55  
Can then the dignity and glorious name,  
Of pompous shows, and of imperial seat,  
The noble heart of Bradamant so frame,  
Her value rare, and virtue to defeat,  
And go from her first promise, to her shame,  
Which me she made with many vows and great?  
No sure I know she will them all forsake,  
Much rather than unsay, that once she spoke.   

56  
These words Rogero spoke, and many such,  
And oftentimes he spoke them in such sort,  
That divers overhard him, in so much  
That they were told, by more than one report  
To Bradamant, whom they did chiefly touch,  
Who took them not (you may be sure) in sport:  
But as her private grief was great before,  
So this report of him did grieve her more.   

57  
But most it grieved her and above the rest,  
That he mistrusted she would him forsake,  
At any man's commandment or request,  
And specially for this same Grecians sake:  
Wherefore to move this scruple from his breast,  
And this foul error from his mind to take,  
She gate her pen and ink one night full late,  
And to Rogero such like words she wrote.   

58  
My dear, as erst I was I still will bide, 
Bradamants lett●r, Rogier qual sempre fui tall esser voglia.   
While life shall dure, yea e'en when life is past,  
Though toward me, love show his grace, or pride,  
Or fortune raise me up, or downward cast:  
My stable faith, shall never fail nor slide,  
For calm, nor storm, but as a Rock stand fast,  
Against the surging waves still unremovable,  
So shall my faith stand firm and unreprovable.   

59  
First shall a file, or knife of drossy lead,  
The Diamond to sundry figures carve,  
Ere any chance by Fortune's frailty bred,  
Or power of love, shall cause my course to serve:  
First shall the streams run back unto their head,  
Ere I will justly such a blame deserve:  
Or ere I shall, for chances good or ill,  
Give my consent to change my settled will.   

60  
To thee Rogero mine, a good while since,  
Of me, and of my heart I gave dominion,  
I should myself of lightness great convince,  
If I so suddenly could change opinion:  
As for my true allegiance, sure no Prince,  
Is faithfuller beloved of dearest minion:  
For me you need no fortress nor no tower,  
To be defences against foreign power.   

61  
You need no bands of men to entertain,  
To keep this fortress, strength enough have I,  
For riches make on me assault but vain,  
So base a price, no gentle heart can buy:  
Nor noble birth, nor name of crown or reign,  
Which oft doth dase the common people's eye,  
Nor beauty, to the which light minds incline,  
Though greater see I never shall then thine.   

62  
No, fear not, no man power shall ever have,  
My heart to other figure to transform,  
Love did your shape therein so deep engrave,  
As now it can receive none other form:  
My heart is not of wax, for why Love gave,  
(When to his work he did it first conform)  
An hundred strokes with cheessell and with male,  
Ere he could fetch therefrom one little scale.   

63  
Pure ivory, gems, and every hardest stone,  
That most withstandeth steel, a man may burst,  
But other figure yet receive they none,  
Then that to which they form were at furst:  
My heart is not unlike a precious stone,  
Or Adamant, or what so cutteth worst:  
Love sooner shall it break in thousand splints,  
Ere other beauties bring it to new prints.   

64  
These words she wrote, and many more to these,  
That him with faith, with love, with hope so fed,  
Of force to cure each desperate disease,  
Or rather to revive him being ded:  
But when they thought them safest from the seas,  
And in the haven securely harboured,  
A new and sudden tempest rose so sore,  
As drove them back to sea from sight of shore.   

65  
For worthy Bradamant that had assigned,  
To show her meaning plain was, and direct,  
And calling wont courage to her mind,  
And quite rejecting womanly respect,  
Came unto Charles, and spoke in such a kind;  
My Liege, if ere my service did effect,  
Ought worth your highness thanks, at your command  
Let not your grace deny me one demand.   

66  
But promise me, upon your Princely faith  
And royal word, which I may surely trust,  
To grant one suit, what ere your handmaid praith,  
And I will promise that it shall be just.  
(Beloved worthy maid, the Emperor saith)  
Your many services confess I must,  
Deserve no less, and frankly here I vow it,  
If of my Realm you ask part, I'll allow it.   

67  
My suit is that your highness will not yield,  
That I (said she) may any husband have,  
That shall not first of all, with spear and shield,  
Or else with sword in hand him so behave,  
As that he can withstand me in the field,  
Behold the only favour that I crave;  
I would be his that proves himself so stout,  
The rest may be content to stand without.   

68  
Most noble maid (the Emperor strait replied)  
Thy stout demand, well to thy mind doth suit,  
Wherefore by me it may not be denied,  
It is so noble and so just a suit:  
Now (for she sought not this her suit to hide)  
All they that heard thereof, sure were not mute,  
But e'en ere night it published was so rise,  
As it was known to Ammon and his wife.   

69  
And thereupon they presently conceived,  
Against their daughter, great disdain and wrath,  
For by such motion plainly they perceived,  
She to Rogero most devotion hath:  
Wherefore to th'end she might be quite bereaved  
All hope, to follow that forbidden path,  
From out the court they trained her by a slight,  
And sent her to their castle that same night.   

70  
This was a fortress that but few days past,  
The Prince had given to them upon request,  
Between Perpignan and Cirtasso placed,  
And near the sea, not of importance lest:  
Here as a prisoner they did keep her fast,  
With mind to send her one d●y unto th'East,  
They purpose, will she, nill she, she must take  
Don Leon, and Rogero quite forsake.   

71  
The Damsel, though not kept with watch or guard,  
Yet bridled with the Parents awful rain,  
Did keep her close, with good and due regard,  
And of their rigour did no whit complain:  
But yet to this her thoughts were full prepared,  
To bide imprisonment or any pain,  
Or death itself, by torture or by rack,  
More rather then from promise to go back.   

72  
Renaldo finding that his subtle fire,  
Had ta'en his sister thus from out his fist,  
Nor able as his promise did require,  
Rogeros' suit to further and assist,  
Forgets he is his son, and in his ire,  
Rebukes his Parents, but say what he list,  
They are content to give the words to losers, 
Sentence.   
But in their daughter's match they will be choosers.   

73  
Rogero hearing this, and greatly fearing,  
Lest Leon should by love, or by constraint,  
Possess his Lady by his long forbearing,  
He minds (but none he doth therewith acquaint,)  
To give a speedy death to Leon, 
Fard' Aug●dius, for m● the Empire were dead, deified them called them which import much as s●●  swearing  
That he of Caesar, will make him a saint,  
And that he will, except his hope deceive him,  
Of sceptre, life, and love, and all bereave him.   

74  
And in his mind resolved full thereon,  
Don Hector's armour that from Mandricard  
He late had won, forwith he putteth on,  
Frontino cake he secretly prepared:  
But Eagle on his shield he would have none,  
I cannot tell you well in what regard;  
In steed thereof an argent Unicorn,  
In field of Gewls by him, as then was borne.   

75  
One only trusty servant and no more,  
He takes with him his purpose to conceal,  
He giveth him in charge where ere he go,  
That he his name to no man do reveal:  
Thus Mosa, Rhyne, he passed with pace not slow,  
And Austria, to th'Vngarian common weal:  
And upon Ister's bank, such speed he made,  
That in a while he came unto Belgrade.   

76  
Where Sava doth into Danubia fall,  
And all along that stream he might discover  
Ensigns and banners all Imperial,  
That nigh the stream in numbers great did hover:  
Great was their multitude, and Grecians all,  
Who with a hope that city to recover,  
Which late before from them the Bulgars won,  
Were thither brought by th'Emperor and his son.   

77  
Twixt Belgrade, and the stream in warlike ranks,  
The Bulgars stood e'en to the monntaines' ridge,  
Both armies watered at the rivers banks,  
The greeks endevord there to cast a bridge;  
And for that end prepared boats and planks,  
The Bulgars sought their purpose to abridge:  
Scarce had Rogero viewed them well, and seen them,  
But that there fell a skirmish hot between them.   

78  
The Greeks were four to one, beside they have  
Good store of boats with many a plank and board,  
And to the place a sharp assault they gave,  
And mean to pass although there were no ford:  
But this was but a policy, and brave,  
For Leon so this while himself besturd,  
That with a compass that about he fet,  
Both he and his, the stream passed without let.   

79  
With little less than twenty thousand men,  
Along the banks he secretly doth ride,  
And gave to them a fresh alarm then,  
Unlooked for, unwares, and unespide:  
No less the Emperor Constantino, when  
He saw his son, on land on other side,  
By joining plank to plank, and boat to boat,  
With all his power, an easy passage got.   

80  
The Bulgar Captain that Vatrano height,  
And was a valiant warrior and a wise,  
Endevord both by policy and fight  
To bear the bront, but nothing could suffice:  
For Leon both by multitude and might,  
Unhorsed him, and ere he could arise;  
Sith he to yield him prisoner did disdain,  
Among a thousand swords he there was slain.   

81  
Till then, the Bulgars valiantly made head,  
But when they saw their king and Captain slain,  
So great a terror in their minds was bred,  
In their faint hearts no courage did remain:  
Rogero seeing how the Bulgars fled,  
And none to stay or bring them back again:  
To help the weaker part resolveth briefly,  
For hate of Constantine, but Leon chiefly.   

82  
He spurs his horse that like the wind doth run,  
And makes them stand, that fled with fainting breast,  
And having spied one braver than the Sun,  
A gallant youth, more forward than the rest:  
(This same was Constantinos sisters son)  
At him Rogero runs with spear in rest:  
He broke his shield and coat like brittle glass,  
And through his body made the spear to pass.   

83  
He leaves him dead, and Ballisard he draws,  
And with that blade he showed himself so stout,  
Who meeteth with him, to repent have cause,  
He presseth in among the thickest rout;  
Ones skull he cleaveth to the very jaws,  
Heads, legs, and arms flew all the field about:  
The stream that erst did run as Crystal clear,  
Vermilion now doth to the sight appear.   

84  
No man that saw, much less that felt his blows,  
Dare once make head against them, or resist them,  
Rogero in the field triumphant goes,  
The Bulgars now march freely where it list them:  
Nor was there one amongst them all that knows,  
What wight it was that did so well assist them:  
This change they saw procured in little space,  
Who lately fled, now held their foes in chase.   

85  
The young Augustus standing on a hill,  
A place above the rest much eminent,  
Seeing one man his men to slay and kill,  
And that their loss and flight was evident:  
He wonders at his courage and his skill,  
And thinks that God had sure some Angel sent,  
To plague the Grecians for their old offences,  
And for the Bulgars succours and defences.   

86  
He sees both by his arms and Unicorn,  
That sure he was a knight of foreign Nation,  
And where as some, more hate would him have born  
He rather held him in more admiration:  
His heart, whom virtuous thoughts did still adorn,  
And ever was of noble inclination,  
Made him extol him for his deeds of arms,  
Although his men by him received such harms.   

87  
e'en as a babe, 
Simile.  whom sometime moved with ire,  
The mother beats with rod; or with it chafeth,  
Runs not unto the sister, nor the fire,  
But to the Mam, and sweetly her embraceth:  
So now though Leon's men are made retire,  
And though Rogero killeth them and chaseth, 
This was a true noble nature.   
Yet his great value maketh Leon love him,  
Much more than hate him, for the harm he doth him   

88  
But if that Leon love him and admire,  
Me thinks he hath but sorry recompense,  
For why Rogeroes hope and sole desire,  
Is to do Leon damage and offence:  
He looks for him, and oft he doth inquire,  
Which way he was, but still the diligence,  
And long experience of the wary Greek,  
Do cause Rogero him in vain did seek.   

89  
Don Leon saw his soldiers fly so fast,  
He sounds retreat, and to his father sent  
A messenger forthwith, in all post hast,  
And of his message this was chief content;  
To let him understand how things had past,  
And wish him fly for fear of being shent:  
Likewise himself and his, hast all they may,  
Back o'er the stream themselves then to convey.   

90  
But yet for all his haste, his men were slain,  
And some with haste were drowned in the stream;  
The Bulgars now did conquerors remain,  
That erst in peril were to lose their Ream:  
The knight of th'unicorn, they All see plain,  
Caused all their good; wherefore with joy extreme,  
To him they go acknowledging indeed,  
That all their glory did from him proceed.   

91  
Some kiss his hands, and some do kiss his feet,  
And in most humble manner him salute,  
They think for him a praise divine were meet,  
And power divine they do to him impute:  
They send their chiefest Captains him to meet,  
And all of them to him do make this suit:  
And up to heaven their joyful voices ring,  
That he would be their Captain, guide, and king.   

92  
Rogero unto them this answer made,  
That he will be their guide as they think best,  
But that he will not come into Belgrade,  
Nor staff, nor sceptre touch at no request,  
Until that Leon that did them invade,  
He have once slain, or ta'en him at the least:  
For why a thousand miles for this alone,  
He ridden had, and other cause had none.   

93  
This said, forthwith he biddeth them adieu,  
And would no longer stay at their desiring,  
But that way Leon fled, did him pursue,  
(For flight it was indeed, and not retiring)  
How beit Leon and his men that knew,  
What in such case for safety was requiring,  
Broke down the bridge, when they the stream had past  
And so as then they made the passage fast.   

94  
Rogero failing of his first intent,  
Did seek some place to pass to other side,  
Along that stream till all that day was spent,  
And all that night uncessantly doth ride:  
Be time next morn unto a town he went,  
To ease his wearied body, and beside,  
To make his horse amends for so great wrong,  
In keeping him without a bait so long.   

95  
Vngardo, one of reckoning good and state,  
Held this same town to Constantino dear,  
And footmen had, and horsemen got of late,  
Since of these wars he did first tidings hear:  
Rogero finding none to watch the gate,  
More boldly entered finding passage clear:  
The town itself within he likewise found,  
With meat and drink, and lodging to abound.   

96  
Now where Rogero lodged that same night,  
One of Romania, happened there to host,  
That present was at that precedent fight,  
When as Rogero holp the Bulgars host:  
And at that time did him so sore affright,  
That though of his escaping he might boast;  
Yet still he feared him, and still did doubt him,  
And still he thought that Unicorn about him.   

97  
Wherefore when as he saw that shield, he knew  
This was the man that e'en before so late,  
So many of the Grecian army slew,  
Straightway he hasted to the castle gate:  
And that he may have audience, he doth sew,  
For matter that concerns the Realm and state:  
But when he was admitted, what he told,  
Within the book ensuing isle unfold.   

Moral.  How truly and upon how just cause mine author blameth Princes for their weak keeping promise, and their continual breaking of leagues (be they made ever so solemnly) I think our present time can witness, in which it is hard to say, whether any two Princes in Europe at this day be assured each of others love: the reason is plaive, 
They weigh not wrong nor right, nor reckon of it,  
Further than it may tend to their own profit.  And as the fault is theirs, so sure they have a great punishment for it, which is, that they live in perpetual fear one of another, and ever one jealous of another's greatness: it was a happy time (if ever there was a time) when it was otherwise.  
In dame Beatrice we may note the notable ambitious humour of women, specially in matching their children above their calling, which I touched more at large in the notes of the fist book: neither are the wiser sort of men free from this folly, for if they may match their daughters, so as they may say my Lord my son, they think they have God almighty by the toe (as the proverb saith) whereas many times they have the devil by the claw: but those that glory so to make their sons their Lords, I would have them hear that verse of Martial to one that called his father his Lord.  
servum te dicis natum ingenueq fateris,  
Cum dicis dominum Sosibiane patrem.  
A slave thou art by birth, of this I gather,  
For evermore thou sayst, my Lord my father.  

History.  Perythous would needs take upon him by the help of Theseus to steal away the daughter of the king of Molossus, but being both taken, Pirithous was devoured by Cerberus a great dog that the said king kept, and Theseus was after resived by Hercules: thence arose the fable that they went to hell together to steal Proserpina, for so was that king's daughter named.  

Allegory.  In the many lets that Rogero hath ear he can get Bradamant, the Allegory is continued from the beginning to the end of the whole work, to show how hardly a man comes to a true contentment and peaceable state in this world (which is figured in the match with Bradamant man having still enemies bodily or ghostly to hinder or interrupt the same.  

Allusion.  In Bradamants constant love to Rogero, he alludes to a Lady of the house of Colonna, that married Luigy Gonzaga against the Pope's will, and many of his adherents.  
Here end the notes of the 44. book.   

  

THE XLV. BOOK  
THE ARGUMENT.  
The noble Leon doth Rogero save,  
In Theodoras' cruel prison penned;  
Soon after, Leon doth Rogero crave,  
To win him Bradamant: he doth assent:  
And fought with her xij. hours a combat bran;  
Of which he after did so sore repent,  
In sorrow great, he thought to end his life,  
To think another should possess his wife.  

1  

The unstablines of Foriune.  Look how much higher Fortune doth erect,  
The climbing wight, on her unstable wheel,  
So much the nigher may a man expect,  
To see his head, where late he saw his heel:  
Polycrates hath proved it in effect,  
And Dionysius that too true did feel:  
Who long were lulled on high in Fortune's lap,  
And fell down suddenly to great mishap.   

2  
On other side the more a man is pressed,  
And utterly ou'rthrowne by Fortunes lower,  
The sooner comes his state to be redressed,  
When wheel shall turn and bring the happy hour:  

Look in the Allusion.  Some from the block have grown to be so blessed,  
Whole realms have been subjecteth to their power,  
As Marius and Ventidius sample is,  
In former age, and Lews of France in this.   

3  
That Lews of France (the story well is known)  

Look in the slorie.  That to Alfonso's son, did give his daughter,  
Who was at Saint Albinos overthrown,  
And e'en with much ado escaped slaughter;  
A like misfortune by like danger grown,  
Coruino scaped but a little after:  
And having past that moment by good chance;  
One ruled Hungary, the other France.   

4  
'tis manifest in stories new and old,  
That good and ill, each other do succeed,  
And worldly bliss hath but a slender hold,  
Wherefore a man of wisdom, will take heed;  
And on his fortune never be too bold,  
Although his state and riches far exceed:  
Nor yet in fortune ill, despair or doubt,  
For evermore her wheel doth turn about.   

5  
Rogero, as I lately did repeat,  
Now having both repulsed the son and fire,  
Grew to such pride therewith, and such conceit,  
(Ambition evermore aspiring hire,)  
He thinks by fortune and his force so great,  
To kill Don Leon, which was his chief desire,  
And for that purpose aid he asketh none,  
But thinketh sure, to do the fear alone.   

6  
But she that cannot suffer nor abide,  
That any long should of her favour boast,  
Now in the midst of all his praise and pride,  
When in her favour he affied most,  
Did cause him of this knight to be descried;  
Who went unto Vngardo strait in post,  
And told him how that man that put to flight  
The Greekish host, would lie in town that night.   

7  
He said, 'twas happened e'en as one could wish,  
If so they marred not all by ill contriving,  
That he was taken now as is a fish,  
That to the net approacheth without driving;  
Or rather lays itself into the dish,  
And makes resistance none, nor any striving,  
Much did the Captain at these news rejoice,  
And showed the same by gesture and by voice.   

8  
And presently provision such he made,  
That good Rogero taken was that night,  
And kept as prisoner now in Novengrade,  
(For so the town where he was taken height)  
What should he do? when armed men did invade  
Him naked and a sleep, with so great might:  
Vngardo strait doth send this joyful tiding,  
To Constantin, at Beltrich now abiding.   

9  
For since his forces late were beaten down,  
He thought it safest, quickly to withdraw  
Unto some strength, or to some walled town,  
(For of the Bulgars now he had such awe)  
He doubted they would hazard e'en his crown,  
Now having such a guide as erst he saw,  
And this same town was strong, and did pertain,  
To him, whose son was by Rogero slain.   

10  
But when this message of their Captains taking,  
By letters and by Post, was brought to him,  
He was therewith, in such a joyful taking,  
He thought he now in seas of milk did swim;  
His face that pale, his heart that erst was quaking,  
Upon this news, it cheerful was and trim;  
The Bulgars now he counts as overthrown,  
The victory he judgeth sure his own.   

11  
As doth the father joy, so doth the son,  
Of this good hap, though for a further end,  
He hopeth this brave knight may now be won  
By courtesy, to be his faithful friend,  
He needeth not envy (if that were done)  
King Charles the great, (he thinks) but e'en contend,  
Both with his Palladines, ●nd all his garrison,  
For flower of Chivalry, to make comparison.   

12  
But Theodora was of other mind,  
Don Leon's Ant, whose son Rogero slew,  
For she with choler carried headlong blind,  
And for his loss, whose death she most did rue,  
To Constantin her Lord, and brother kind  
She went, and at his feet herself she threw,  
And when she first had made a piteous plaint,  
She with her suit, this wise did him acquaint.   

13  
I will not rise from these your feet (she seth)  
My liege, until you grant me power to wreak  
Myself on him, that brought my son to death,  
And did with cruel spear, his bowels break:  
Besides he was your nephew, while his breath  
Did dure, you saw his love, and service eke,  
Your highness knows, it were too great a wrong,  
To let his death be unrevenged long.   

14  
You further see, that God of goodness mere,  
Had caused that wretch, the camp thus to forsake,  
And come like bird to bait (the case is clear)  
Whereas Vngardo did him prisoner take,  
Because my only son, I loved so dear,  
Might not go unrevenged to Stygian lake:  
Then give me him (my Lord) and be content,  
I suage my grief, with his sharp punishment.   

15  
Her plaints and moan, so well she doth devise,  
So forcibly and heartily she prayed,  
Nor would not stir from thence in any wise,  
(Although the noble Emperor did, and said  
e'en all he could, to make her thence arise)  
That sith she would by no means be denayed,  
But still renewed her suit, with piteous weeping,  
He granteth her the prisoner in her keeping.   

16  
And thus at last, to make the matter short,  
He sendeth for the knight of th'unicorn,  
And gave him her, whose chief delight and sport,  
Was to devise to work him woe and scorn;  
All common deaths were of too mild a sort,  
To have him hanged, and all in pieces torn,  
And on each gate, to set a quartered limb,  
She thought it was not plague enough for him.   

17  
Chained hands and feet, and vecke, she locked him up  
In dungeon void of light, but full of stink,  
With mouldy bread, she made him dine and sup,  
And gave him puddle water for his drink:  
She shortly means, that he a sorry cup  
Shall taste, but till she may herself be think  
The kind of death, she giveth him a keeper,  
Whose rancour was as deep as hers, or deeper.   

18  
Oh had Duke Ammon's noble daughter known,  
Of her Rogeroes now distressed state,  
Or if it had been to Marfisa shown,  
Who loved him dear, though in another rate,  
Both tone and tother, thither would have flown,  
And would not cease to ride be times and late,  
To rescue good Rogero, and assist,  
Let Ammon and his wife, say what they list.   

19  
Now Charles the great, began to call to mind  
His promise, by the which himself was bound,  
That husband none should ever be assigned  
To Bradamant, but he in fight were found  
Her match, and (as kings use in such a kind)  
He published the same by trumpets found,  
O'er all his Empire, sending proclamations,  
That soon the same, did fly to foreign nations.   

20  
Thus much the writing made men understand,  
That no man Bradamant to wife should get,  
But one that would attempt with sword in hand,  
From rising of the Sun, until it set,  
Her force in single combat to withstand;  
Which if that any could, there was no let,  
But she agrees, and Charles himself allows,  
That such a one should have her for his spouse.   

21  
This Article was likewise there set down,  
That they should name the weapon if they list,  
For why her value was of great renown,  
To fight on horse, on foot, in field, in list,  
Duke Ammon now that to withstand the crown,  
Wants force and will, no longer doth resist,  
But after long discourses with his daughter,  
Compelled in fine, back to the Court he broughther   

22  
Her mother eke, though wroth and malcontent,  
Yet both for nature, and for honour's sake,  
Good store of costly clothes incontinent,  
Both gowns and kirtles she for her doth make;  
Thus Bradamant with both her parents went,  
Unto the Court, where she small joy did take,  
She scarce esteemed it a Court to be,  
When that her lover there she could not see.   

23  

〈◊〉.  As one that saw in April or in May,  
A pleasant garden, full of fragrant flowers,  
Then when fresh earth new clad in garments gay,  
Decks every wood and grove, with pleasant bowers  
And comes again on some December's day,  
And sees it marred, with winter's storms and showers,  
So did this Court to Bradamant appear,  
When as she saw Rogero was not hear.   

24  
She dares not ask of any man for fear,  
Lest such a question might her love accuse,  
How beit secretly she dareth ear,  
To others talk, as in such case men use:  
Each man saith gone he is, but none knows where,  
For to the Court, of him there came no news,  
And he himself, when as he thence departed,  
His purpose unto no man there imparted.   

25  
Oh in what fear and rage these news do set her,  
To hear Rogero was in manner fled,  
She thinks that sure, because he could not get her,  
And that her father nay, to him had said,  
That now he sought of purpose to forget her,  
And shun her sight, that all his sorrow bred;  
She thinks that he from thence himself withdraws,  
For this alone, and for none other cause.   

26  
But more than all, this doubt her heart assails,  
That he was gone to seek some foreign love,  
And sith that of his purpose here he fails,  
To speed some otherwhere he strait would prove  

Simile.  As from a board men drive out nails with nails,  
So with new love he would her love remove;  
But strait another thought that thought gainsaith,  
She thinketh her Rogero full of faith.   

27  
And thereupon herself she reprehends,  
That she her lover should so much abuse,  
Thus in her mind, one fancy him defends,  
And then another, doth him sore accuse,  
And she her thought to either fancy lends,  
And in great doubt she is, which part to choose;  
But when a while she had herself bethought,  
She leaneth most, unto best pleasing thought.   

28  
Then chief, when in her mind she doth repeat  
Rogeros' promise, which he bade her trust,  
She thinks to him the injury is great,  
That causelessly she now should him mistrust,  
And e'en as he were present, she doth beat  
Her breast that still doth harbour thoughts unjust,  
Myself hath sinned (she saith) which now I curse,  
But he that caused it is cause of worse.   

29  
Love was the cause (quoth she) that in my hart,  
Your face and grace engraved hath so seemly,  
And therewith hath set forth each virtuous part,  
Beseeming thee so sweetly and so trimly,  
That sure no dame, that knows well what thou art,  
Can choose but fall in love with thee extremely,  
And therewithal, with all her power endeavour,  
To win thy love, and make thee hers for ever.   

30  
Oh if that love had graved thy thoughts so well,  
As it hath graved thy visage in my mind,  
In how great joy, and bliss should I then dwell,  
For well I know, that they be true and kind;  
Then jealousy, the only plague of hell,  
(To which alas I am too much inclined)  
Should quickly cease, and I should free me from it,  
Nor would I in my heart, once think upon it.   

31  
But as a miser hoarding up his treasure, 
Simile   
Doth doubt in absence still, that thieves be there,  
So I when thou that art mine only pleasure,  
Art absent far from me (I know not where)  
I strait suspect, and strait I doubt false measure,  
And strait my hope grows less, & more my fear  
Which though I think both bootless, and unjust,  
Yet still I doubt, and still I do mistrust.   

32  
But yet no sooner shall the pelasing light,  
Of thy sweet countenance come unto mine eyes,  
O thou my joy, o thou my lines delight,  
(Though where thou art I cannot now devise)  
But that true hope, false fear shall put to flight,  
And knowledge plain, all doubts shall satisfy,  
Come then my dear, and hasten thy returning,  
Ere hope & fear shall waste me quite with mourning   

33  
As when the night hath spread her mantle black, 
Simile.   
Faint hearted folk, are wont to be afraid,  
But when again the daylight doth come back.  
They seem of better cheer, and well appayd:  
So I do faint, when as my dear I lack,  
But in his presence I am undismayed:  
Come then my dear Rogero, come unto me,  
Before that hope and doubt do quite undo me.   

34  
As in the night, each little fiery spark, 
Simile.   
May plainly be discerned with our eyen,  
But when the day doth come we then shall mark,  
That all are dampt and do no longer shine,  
So kindles fear, in mind with doubt made dark,  
Until my Sun in my Horizon shine  
Turn then my dear, and with thy light illume me,  
And drive away this care that doth consume me.   

35  
As when the Sun declines to South most low, 
Simile.   
The land doth jeese the beauty that she had,  
And winter storms breed rain, and ise, and snow,  
The pleasant birds all silent sit and sad:  
So when as thou from me far of dost go,  
O shining Sun, whose beams do make me glad,  
A thousand fears but all unjust and vain,  
Make winter in my heart, to my great pain.   

36  
Shine then on me, O my clear Sun, and bring  
Thy beams more nigh, this snow and ise to thaw,  
Refresh these branches withered in their spring,  
And do no more thyself so far withdraw:  
As Philomena dolefully doth sing, 
〈◊〉   
When as her young ones all destroyed she saw,  
Or as the Turtle early mourns and late,  
When she hath lost her dear beloved mate.   

37  
So noble Bradamant still mourns and plains,  
With fear Rogeeo had her love rejected,  
And with salt tears her lovely cheeks distaines,  
Yet secretly, for fear to be detected:  
Oh had she known that he was bound in chains,  
And every hour a cruel death expected,  
What grief of mind think you, would she then take,  
That was so grieved already for his sake!   

38  
But lo, the heavenly goodness so ordains,  
That Theodoras' rage, and cruel spite,  
Against her prisoner, whom she keeps in chains,  
And means to kill with torture all she might,  
Reserving him alive for greater pains,  
Came to the ear of Caesar's son one night,  
And put into his heart to save and cherish,  
And not to suffer so great value perish.   

39  
The noble Leon that Rogero loves,  
(Not knowing though that this Rogero was)  
Whom his rare virtue, and great value moves,  
Which he did think, all human far to pass,  
Devising sundry ways, this one he proves,  
And by the same, he brought the feat to pass,  
So that his cruel Ant could not espy him,  
Nor once complain that she was wronged by him.   

40  
He speaketh in the secretest sort he can,  
Unto the bloody wretch that kept the keys,  
And prayeth him show him the condemned man,  
For why he must examaine him he says:  
A knight a valiant man that was his man,  
He taketh with him fit for all bold assays,  
The cruel layler, that no fraud suspected,  
In all points did as Leon him directed.   

41  
He leads him secretly unto the den,  
Where good Rogero was in prison penned,  
Nor took he with him any of his men,  
But as their guide, the foremost of them went:  
Who when they saw the time best served, then  
No longer to defer th'occasion meant,  
But unawares they at advantage catch him,  
And with a sudden stab they do dispatch him.   

42  
Then open they the trap door out of hand,  
And down they let the ladder that was by,  
And Leon with a lantern in his hand,  
Of light concealed, went where the knight did lie,  
Fast bound upon a grate with bitter band,  
Not in the water, but thereto so nigh,  
The very damp was such, that one might guess,  
That ●ole would kill him, in a month or less.   

43  
With great compassion Leon him embraced,  
And said, sir knight, the virtue you have shown,  
With sured knots, my love hath knit and laced  
To you, since first the same to me was known,  
So as my heart and thoughts are wholly placed,  
To seek your safety, rather than mine own,  
Venturing, your welfare and your love to win,  
To lose my fires good will, and all my kin.   

44  
To tell you true, the Emp'rours' son I am,  
Leon by name, as yet to you a stranger,  
To set you free, of purpose now I came,  
And put my person, and my state in danger  
That both my father greatly me may blame,  
And look upon me evermore with anger;  
The loss at Belgrade which you wrought him late,  
Makes him to bear to you so sharp an hate.   

45  
These sugared words, and many more beside,  
Which were for me too tedious to repeat,  
He spoke, and then his bands he all untyde,  
And secretly he caused him move his seat:  
Rogero in this wise to him replied,  
Your courtesy is such, your gift so great,  
To give me life, that you shall ay command it,  
When ever it shall please you demand it.   

46  
Thus Leon in this secret sort unknown,  
Rogero from the prison doth convey,  
And sent him to a castle of his own,  
Whereas he might secure in silence stay,  
Until this tumult all were overblown,  
And till again for him regain he may,  
His arms and gallant horse, and famous blade,  
Kept by Vngardo, Lord of Noueng●ade.   

47  
The keeper slain, the next ensuing morn,  
The prison gates, from off the hinges heaved,  
The chains, and manacles, in pieces torn  
Each man might see, but none by whom perceived  
All thought that Leon had him hatred borne,  
Wherefore of him, they no mistrust conceived,  
The cause he had of hate, each man doth know,  
By name his late received overthrow.   

48  
At this great courtesy that Leon used,  
Rogero wonders much, and thinks it strange,  
And sore he was in mind and thought confused,  
And suddenly he feels a wondrous change,  
His heart relented, and all hate refused,  
And turned it all to love, by sweet exchange,  
What erst malicious, cruel was, and hateful,  
Is turned now to kind, and mild, and grateful.   

49  
So deep into his head and heart it sinks,  
That it possessed all his soul and sense,  
On this he studies when he wakes or winks,  
How he may do to him some recompense:  
To spend e'en all his future days (he thinks)  
Sole in his service, and in his defence,  
Could not requite, no scarce the twentieth part,  
Of so great curtsy, and so great desert.   

50  
In this mean while, the news was come from France,  
Which Charles had notifide to many a nation,  
Of her that would be wooed by sword and lance,  
In single fight (so said the proclamation:)  
Don Leon was quite out of countenance,  
To hear of this her strange determination,  
And as a man that well his own strength knows,  
Himself too weak for her he doth suppose.   

51  
And long debating how he might supply,  
His want of force and courage, by his wit,  
In fine he purposed with himself to try,  
This new made fréd, whose name he knows not yet,  
Although he well could witness with his eye,  
That for no brave exploit he was unfit,  
He hopeth by his manhood and his aid,  
To conquer and to have that hardy maid.   

52  
But two things he must do before he goes,  
One is the mind of this same unknown knight,  
Unto this hardy enterprise dispose,  
The tother is to bring him to the fight  
So secretly, as none might it disclose,  
And all that while to keep himself from fight;  
First then, in earnest sort he doth entreat  
Rogero take on him this hardy feat.   

53  
Much might the Greek prevail by eloquence,  
The which he used to lead him thereunto,  
But more prevailed the bond of recompense,  
So firm as no time ever could undo,  
That though the motion bred him great offence,  
And seemed a thing unpossible to do,  
With gladder look than heart he doth reply,  
Dear sir, I nothing may to you deny.   

54  
Though he no sooner had this word pronounced,  
But that he felt such grief did gripe his hart,  
As if damnation were to him denounced,  
Such pangs he had, such torture and such smart:  
But yet his promise given he not renounced,  
Nor from the same once purposed to depart,  
For first a thousand deaths he meant to choose,  
Then one request of Leon's to refuse.   

55  
die sure he shall (he thinks) for if he leave  
His love, he knows he cannot bide alive,  
For either sorrow will of life him reave,  
Or if that nature shall with sorrow strive,  
Of his own hands he will his death receive,  
And so his soul from hated harbour drive,  
Each other thing on earth, to him seems possible,  
But missing her, to live he thinks impossible.   

56  
Then die he must, only he doubts what kind  
Of death, were for his state and fancy best,  
Once this conceit did come into his mind,  
To lay in fight his naked open breast:  
Might she him slay, he deemeth in his mind,  
That such a death, in death might make him blest,  
But then he sees what follow would of this,  
That noble Leon, should his purpose miss.   

57  
And then himself of promise eke should fail,  
Which was not to dissemble, but endeavour  
That Leon in his wooing might prevail,  
And make dame Bradamant his own for ever:  
Thus though that divers thoughts his mind assail,  
Yet wholly in that thought he doth persever,  
That moveth him most plain to deal and true,  
And to all other thoughts he bids adieu.   

58  
This while Don Leon with his father's leave,  
With such retinue as his state required,  
Of knights and squires, his native soil did leave,  
And went to see the dame he so desired:  
Rogero did of him before receive,  
His arms and horse, and in strange clothes attired,  
Day after day they so their journey frame,  
That it the last to Paris walls they came.   

59  
Don Leon to the City would not go,  
But near unto the same he pitched a tent,  
And by embassage made the king to know,  
How he was come, and unto what intent:  
King Charles was glad, and did his gladness show  
With gifts, and unto him in person went:  
Don Leon tells what did his coming breed,  
And prays he may dispatched be with speed.   

60  
And that King Charles that noble maid would cause,  
To come the day ensuing to the field,  
That would (against all common wedlock's laws)  
Be wood and won, with only sword and shield:  
King Charles her calls, and she that asked no pause,  
Unto the motion willingly did yield,  
And so accordingly next day she came,  
Unto the lists prepared for the same.   

61  
That day that went before the day of fight,  
Rogero passed with as great content,  
As doth a man condemned spend the night, 
Simile.   
The which before his execution went,  
He choosed to fight all clad in armour bright,  
Because as then to be unknown he meant,  
And (for to hurt her, was not his pretence)  
Save sword, he used no weapon of offence.   

62  
Lance he would none, not that he feared the lance  
Which first Argalia, than Astolfo bore,  
Which forced men beside their seat to dance,  
And unto many men procured great care,  
For neither he that used it first in France,  
Nor any of those other, was aware,  
How all those fears were by enchantment done, 
The same Lan●a d'oro, was sometime king Galafrons, father of Angelica.   
Save that same king, that gave it to his son.   

63  
Likewise Astolfo and the Dordon dame,  
That with that spear full many did unhorsed,  
Thought not that it from Necromancy came,  
But from their flight, and their own proper force,  
They thought with any spear to do the same:  
But now Rogero did both spear and horse  
Refuse, because if he had used his own,  
He thought it would by Bradamant be known.   

64  
Needs must the damsel call to mind the steed,  
For why she kept him long at Clarimount,  
And used him with her own hands to feed,  
And made of him a special dear account:  
Wherefore Rogero that took special heed,  
To go unknown refused on horse to mount,  
Or any other thing by which he may,  
Unto his dearest love himself bewray.   

65  
He further needs another sword would take,  
For well he knew against his Ballisard,  
No steel, nor armour none, defence could make,  
Whose edge so keen, whose metal was so hard,  
Of that new sword likewise he (for her sake)  
Rebates the edge, so great was his regard,  
And thus himself both weakening and disguising,  
He came into the field at Phoebus rising.   

66  
And that each one for Leon might him note,  
Until the controversy were decided,  
He wears upon his back Don Leon's cote,  
The golden Eagle with the head divided,  
(Their making both was like, from foot, to throat)  
Thus when all things were readily provided,  
The tone presents him in the open green,  
The tother kept him close, and was not seen.   

67  
But Bradamant now far in other rate,  
Herself in readiness for fight doth set,  
And if the knight do his sword's edge rebate,  
As fast the damsel her sword's edge doth whet:  
She wisheth with a heart most full of hate,  
Her sword a passage to the quick would get,  
Yea comfort her it would and do her good,  
If she with every blow could draw the blood.   

68  
e'en as a Barbrye horse that runs a race,  
And for the sign thereof hath long expected,  
Against his will, doth stay his running pace,  
With swelling nostrils and with ears erected:  
e'en so the noble damsel in like case,  
That of Rogeros' presence nought suspected,  
Did swell with wrath, and burns like flaming fire,  
Unto the combat, such was her desire.   

69  

〈◊〉  And as ofttimes upon some fearful clap  
Of thunder, strait a hurlewinde doth arise,  
And lifts the waves aloft, from Thetys' lap,  
e'en in a moment up unto the skies,  
The Herdman doubting of some great mishap,  
About some tree, or cave, close hidden lies,  
So Bradamant with rage of anger driven,  
Aslayld Rogero when the sign was given.   

70  

〈◊〉  But never did a stiff and aged oak,  
Against the Northern blast more firmly stand,  

〈◊〉  Nor better doth a rock, endure the stroke,  
Of surging waves, still wallowing to the land,  
Then good Rogero, guarded in the cloak  
Of Hector's arms, her forces did withstand,  
Though she still laid on load with spite and hate,  
Upon his arms, his sides, his breast, and pate.   

71  
Sometimes she gives a blow, sometime a thrust,  
According as her vantage most she spied,  
And still she watched, if she could hit him just  
Between the plates, or where the same were tie;  
'twas well the core was such as one might trust,  
For she doth search it still on every side,  
And inwardly she fretteth in her mind,  
That nought fell out of that she had assigned.   

72  
So shall you see some men besiege a town, 
Simile.   
Well walled, and strongly flankt with rampires main,  
Assault it oft, and strive to batter down  
Some towers or gates, with peril great and pain,  
And waste their time, and spending many a crown,  
To lose their men about the same in vain,  
No more the damsels force did now prevail,  
To pierce a plate, or to unrivet nail.   

73  
Sometime forth of his helmet and his shield,  
She made the sparks of fire fly out in sight,  
Still smiting him with blows not soft, nor ceil,  
Sometime at rear demain, and oft down right,  
As thick as hailstones that upon the field,  
Or on the tiled houses do alight:  
But still Rogero close lies to his ward,  
And not to hurt her, still he hath regard.   

74  
Oft standing still, now turning, then retiring,  
He makes his foot accompany his fist,  
With sword, with shield, with slip (cause so requiring)  
He wards the blows, or shuns them as him lift;  
And ever not to damage her desiring,  
When he might hit, of purpose still he missed,  
Yet in such wife, that she herself was ware,  
And all the rest, that he the same forbore.   

75  
But Bradamant when she herself bethought,  
What was contained in th'Emperors Edict,  
That whosoeu'r with her a whole day fought,  
Should have her at the end of such conflict,  
With all her force endevord still and sought,  
To gall her adversary and afflict;  
And now the more she troubled was in mind,  
To see the Sun to West so low declined.   

76  
And as her hope still less and lesser grew,  
So her desire increased still more and more,  
Her loving adversary to subdue,  
That she had fought with all the day before:  
As labourers whose work by task was dew, 
Simile.   
That loyterd have and now are sad therefore,  
When night draws on bestir their lazy bones,  
Until their strength, and light fail both at once.   

77  
Alas good Bradamant, if thou didst know,  
The man to whom thou wishest so much ill,  
That in this fight hath been thy friendly foe,  
And winneth thee (perhaps against his will)  
Thou wouldst first have killed thyself I trow,  
Then of his blood one little drop to spill,  
Thou that distst now so curse him and beshrew him  
Wouldst neither of them do, if thou didst know him   

78  
But Charles and all his Lords, with full persuasion  
That this so valiant champion, Leon was,  
To praise him highly now they take occasion;  
And sith his strength did hers so greatly pass,  
They think for her, there now was no cuasion,  
The matter brought to such a narrow pass,  
Each man esteems this match for her most fit,  
Each man allows, each man commendeth it.   

79  
Now 'gan Don Phoebus dip his golden rays,  
(To suage their burning) in the Western seas,  
When Charles himself comes to them both & prays  
The damsel now her fury to appease,  
And giveth sentence, that without delays,  
Don Leon may her marry when he please:  
Rogero doth himself no whit disclose,  
But armed full back to the tent he goes.   

80  
Don Leon, brotherly doth him embrace,  
And then he holp him to untie his beaver,  
And with great kindness kissed all his face,  
And said that he was bound to him for ever,  
And that no time, such merit could deface,  
Which to reward he would for aye endeavour,  
Affirming frankly of his own mere motion,  
That all he had, should be at his devotion.   

81  
I never can such courtesy requite,  
Scant in this life (he saith) or in the next,  
No though I should surrender all my right  
Unto my crown, and all thereto annexed.  
Rogero, that in speech took small delight,  
And was with inward passion so perplexed,  
Restored to him his arms, that he had worn,  
And took again his shield of th'unicorn.   

82  
Pretending (as he truly might pretend)  
He weary was, and would himself repose,  
And therefore to his tent unto that end,  
All private unaccompanyd he goes;  
At midnight horse to take he doth intend,  
At midnight privily from bed he rose.  
And armed, and mounted thence away departed,  
But why nor whither, he to none imparted.   

83  
And thus away he secretly doth ride,  
And gives Frontino leave to choose the way,  
Now near a wood, then by the river side,  
(He never looking to what coast it lay)  
He feign would die, and still come death he cried,  
He thought death only could his pain allay,  
He only wished death, to end his grief,  
That while he lives, is sure past all relief.   

84  
Ah wretch (said he) of whom can I complain,  
For sudden reaving me of all my bliss?  
Shall I so great an injury sustain?  
Of whom else shall I be avenged for this?  
I did the fault, and now I feel the pain,  

Sentence.  Nor can I say, but just the torment is,  
For punishment doth properly belong,  
To him that is the author of the wrong.   

85  
But had I done myself the wrong alone,  
I might perhaps forgive myself the same,  
Though surely cause, nor reason there is none,  
To pardon such a fact, so worthy blame:  
But now I have to her been cause of moan,  
To suffer that, it were perpetual shame;  
So though I should no just revengement take  
For mine own cause, yetmust I for her sake,   

86  
This wrong revenge I may, I will, I must,  
By only death, sith this offence was such;  
To die, I soon shall find the way I trust,  
The care thereof, my mind no whit doth touch:  
Oh that I had long since been laid in dust,  
Ere that I injured my dear so much,  
I would I had been put to death before,  
When I was prisoner unto Theodore.   

87  
If I had then been martyred and tormented,  
With all the plagues her malice could devise,  
At least my dear, my death would have lamented,  
With tears, from out her christ all streaming eyes:  
Now when she knows, that I have thus consented  
To Leon, to betray her in this wise,  
My part of her, unto a stranger giving  
She will have cause to hate me dead and living.   

88  
Now while the knight did thus lament and plain,  
The Easter parts of heaven, with light were cleared,  
And Phoebus from his golden house again,  
Lift up his head, wherewith all creatures cheered,  
Betake them to their ordinary pain:  
And then unto Rogero it appeared,  
That he was in a wood, a most fit place,  
For one of such a mind, in such a case.   

89  
He lights, and off he takes Frontinos saddle,  
And gives him liberty, and thus he says,  
My gallant beast so good, so serviceable,  
As I have found thee still at all assays,  
Go, hear I set thee free, and were I able,  
As I am willing, to set forth thy praise, 
Pegasus, lockes● the Table.   
Thou doubtless shouldst not need that horse envy,  
That was ta'en up from earth unto the sky.   

90  
Nor should Arion's praises make thee sorry,  
Nor Cillarus that Castor did bestryde,  
Nor any praised in Greek, or Latin story,  
For why (thy shape and readiness beside)  
Of all these famous steeds not one can glory,  
As thou mayst do, it cannot be denied,  
Of them none passeth thee in commendation,  
Nor justly challenge can such reputation.   

91  
Thou hast been cherished and loved dear,  
By such a Nymph, so fair and so divine,  
As all the world can hardly show her peer,  
She hath thee fed, with that fair hand and fine,  
I mean my love, but ah why live I here,  
Sith now I may no longer call her mine?  
No longer mine she is, ah cruel word,  
Why end not I my days by mine own sword?   

92  
Now if Rogero thus himself tormented,  
And cauld the birds and beasts, to moon his plaint,  
For none but birds and beasts, the place frequented,  
Whom he with his great sorrow might acquaint;  
No doubt the damsel was as ill contented,  
And made a greater, or as great complaint,  
Sith for herself she nothing hath to say,  
Why she to Leon longer should say nay.   

93  
Yet all means possible she means to try,  
Before that she will her Rogero leave,  
And make king Charles and all his Lords to lie,  
And Leon of his promise to deceive:  
Or if the worst shall hap, she means to die,  
And with her hands of life herself bereave,  
For present death she rather meant to choose,  
Then her beloved Rogero to refuse.   

94  

〈◊〉  How cometh it to pass (said she) my dear,  
That at this time thou art so far from hence?  
How can a thing which all the world did hear,  
So strangely be concealed from thy sense?  
If thou hadst heard it, sure thou wouldst appear;  
For that my drift, that was my sole pretence,  
Ah my ill fortune evermore accursed,  
What can I deem, but e'en the very worst.   

95  
Why then Rogero mine, can you alone,  
Not know that all the world doth know beside,  
For had you known it strait you wouldst have flown  
Of purpose hither combat to have tried;  
Thou sure art ta'en, or slain, for third is none:  
It may be, Leon that thy praise envied,  
Hath like a traitor, set for thee a trap,  
And thou art ta'en therein by some mishap.   

96  
I got this grace of Charles to marry none,  
But one that were in fight for me too hard,  
A slured thou shouldst be that only one,  
For no man's force but thine I did regard;  
I thought none else could vanquish me alone,  
But lo how God doth this my pride reward,  
That he that never erst in all his life  
Did manly deed, hath won me for his wife.   

97  
If I be won and vanquished, because  
He matched still my force at all assays,  
But Charles doth not judge rightly of the cause,  
And therefore I must seek some new delays;  
Ah if I now put in some caffling clause,  
I shall be called unconstant all my days,  
But fickleness in maids is seldom wondered,  
Nor am I first that vide it, by an hundred.   

98  
Sufficeth me that in the being true  
Unto my love, I others all excel,  
And pass the patterns either old or new,  
Or near or far, e'en wherefoned they dwell:  
Then will I bid that constancy adieu,  
That may be hindrance to my doing well,  
So I and Leon may not match together,  
Let me be deemed as wavering as the wether.   

99  
This Bradamant unto herself doth say,  
And olt she breaks her speech with sighs and tears,  
And that night that ensued that luckless day,  
To sleep or close her eye lids she for bears,  
But when Apollo's beams had driven away  
Nocturnus shades, 
Nocturnal farn●● to be the god of the night.  then lo supernal spheres,  
By which all human actions are directed,  
Brought help to her, when least it was expected.   

100  
For why Marfisa, that brave minded dame,  
The next day came and sowed new seeds of strife,  
Alleging that it was great wrong and shame,  
A foreigner should have her brother's wife;  
And swears herself could not endure the same,  
And that she would by combat gauge her life,  
According as the law of arms allows,  
To prove Rogero was her lawful spouse.   

101  
And if dame Bradamant would it deny,  
She faith, she will it to her face aver,  
As having witness been with ear, and eye,  
That good Rogero was aslured to her  
With words, as folks in marriages apply;  
And adding she would unto law refer,  
If so the damsel to her noble brother  
Affianced, might justly take another.   

102  
Now whether this she spoke were false or true,  
I know not, but she spoke it with intent,  
To stop the marriage likely to ensue  
With Leon, which she studied to prevent:  
Some thought perhaps that Bradamant it knew,  
And that 'twas done in part by her consent,  
As having no more safe nor honest way,  
Unto her left, to lay Don Leon nay.   

103  
In evil part these news the Emperor took,  
And called for the damsel by and by,  
And told her what Marfisa undertook,  
(And lo by hap, Duke Ammon then stood by)  
She fixed on the ground her silent look,  
And to the question, said nor no nor I,  
That by her gesture, every one did take,  
That that was true, that erst Marfisa spoke.   

104  
This made Orlando and Renaldo glad,  
In hope that this might prove a lawful mean,  
To make the match which they forepromist had,  
And hinder this new match, and dash it clean:  
For sith Duke Ammon those first banes for bad,  
And unto Leon's side did wholly lean,  
To use pretence of law, they both had rather,  
Then take by force, the damsel from her father.   

105  
For if that this pretence may stand for good,  
The neck of Leon's match it then would break,  
And move no cause of war, or shedding blood:  
But Ammon in great wrath, thus wise doth speak;  
This is a tale indeed of Robin-hood,  
Which to believe, might show my wits but weak,  
But think not that I will be so belotted,  
Though this were true, that you have vainly plotted.   

106  
For presuppose, which yet I not confess,  
My daughter was by folly so alluted,  
And that they are, which none of wit could guess,  
Each unto other, man and wife assured:  
I pray you yet, the time more plain express,  
When this was done, how long it hath endured,  
This (sure I am) 'tis but a tale devised,  
Except it were before he was baptized.   

107  
And if 'twere done before his Christian state,  
To stand unto the same I am not tied,  
Wherefore this caveat is put in too late,  
Her own desire she hath not had denied:  
Now 'tis not fit, a Prince of such estate,  
As for her sake, adventerd to have died,  
Should your emperors promise be deluded,  
And by such craft, be from his right excluded.   

108  
You should have spoken then of this contract,  
Before our king had sent his proclamation,  
I mean not thus to have my credit cracked,  
For more than so, I weigh my reputation:  
Thus pleaded he against that precontract,  
The which to break was his determination,  
To either part his ear the Emperor lends,  
Yet partially, to neither side he bends.   

109  

Simile. Outd. Qusha succincts ubi truxinsibilat Eurus. Murmura pi●atu 〈◊〉, ve●qualia ●lu●tus 〈◊〉 qu●e●ac●●● si quu procul aud●at illos A wonder lasts nine ●ay●s.  Look what a murmur winds do make in woods,  
When Zephyrus mild blasts among them are,  
Or when one heats from far the saltish floods,  
When Aeolus and Neptune are at square:  
So did the common people in their moods,  
Talk of these matters, and the same compare,  
And as the manner is (for nine days space)  
This was the news and talk in every place.   

110  
This man Rogero, Leon that defends,  
According to the fancies of the men,  
But yet it seemed Rogero had most friends,  
Scarce had the stranger one, for tother's ten,  
But as I said, the king to no side bends,  
And having duly weighed the matter then,  
He points the marriage day to be deferred,  
The case unto his Parliament referred.   

111  
Next day Marfisa made another offer,  
Sith that none could, during her brother's life,  
Wed Bradamant, and be assured of her,  
Her brother should (for ending of the strife)  
To Leon hand to hand, the combat proffer,  
So she might be the last survivors wife;  
And he that other could in battle kill,  
Enjoy her might alone at his own will.   

112  
Charles unto Leon doth impart these news,  
As he before the other did impart,  
That offer Leon meant not to refuse,  
But saith he take it would, with all his hart,  
He minds again the matter so to use,  
The knight of th'unicorn should play his part,  
He little knew that in great care and anguish,  
The noble knight did now consume and languish.   

113  
But missing him, he quickly did repent,  
That he accepted had that stout defiance,  
And therefore strait to seek the knight he sent,  
In whose tried force he put his whole affiance;  
Him to Rogero to oppose he meant,  
And all his friends and all his strong alliance:  
Wherefore to shun both danger great and scorn,  
He sent to seek the knight of th'unicorn.   

114  
To all the Cities, and the the towns he sends,  
And all the villages were there about,  
And mounting on his horse himself intends  
To go in person and to seek him out,  
But neither he nor all Regeroes friends,  
In France, had ever light on him I doubt,  
Had not Melissa holp him at his need,  
As in the book ensuing, you may reed.   

Moral.  This book began with an excellent Moral, of the unstableness and variety of Fortune, which as it is plainly set down and notably proved by examples, so if a man will rightly apply it to his own state, I know not whether any thing in this whole work hath been, yea or can be said to better purpose, not only for humanity, but in some sort for divinity. For in matters of the world who knoweth not, that the wisest counsel a man can give, and the wisest course a man can take is this, Vtnecoppressus sis adversis rebus necelatus secundis, neither to be abashed with adversity, nor puffed up with prosperity: and in divinity (as the most learned divines have written) the two only rocks at which our vessels make shipwrade, the Silla and Charybdis that drown so many thousand Christians in this their worldly passage, are these two extremes, of presumption and despair: between which two, he that can keep his course even, it is unpossible be should miscarry, but by wonderful, and even most wilful negligence.  
In the great courtesy used by Leon toward Rogero, and afterward by Rogero toward him, as is showed both in this book and the next, we may note first the wonderful effects of virtue, that breeds love, not in strangers only, but even in enemies: secondly we may see that a man of a true noble nature, thinks himself more bound to requite a benefit, then to revenge an injury. For to fail in revenge often proceedeth of virtue, but to be unthankful, is a most hateful thing even in the greatest, and can never proceed but from a most vile nature.  
In Charles may be noted the just and moderate proceeding of a wife and discreet Prince, who when the controversy about Bradamant began to grow so intricate, that it was hard to discover where the right was, in the hearing of the matter, he showed no manner of partiality, and in the end referred 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the determining of the free Court of Parliament, thereby showing, that he presumed not too far of his own wit, and that he meant to have the matter heard openly and indifferently; and yet he did wisely remove from himself, the envy and grudge that might grow to him by giving a definite sentence in a cause so ambiguous, which a wise Prince will eschew as much as may be, specially when the matter shall concern great personages.  
Polycrates, 
History.  was king of Samos, a man so exceeding fortunate, that he took no exploit in hand were it never so difficult, but be brought it to the end he desired, so as being willing (as it seemed) to moderate this great envy of his fortune, with a voluntary mishap, he threw one day into the sea a jewel of exceeding great value, with purpose to lose it, and thereby to frame to himself a cause of sorrow: but his good fortune would not suffer it, for a Fisherman, not long after bringing him a fair fish for a present, this jewel was found in the belly of that fish, and so most strangely recovered. Yet behold, this fortunate Polycrates going with an army against Darius, was taken prisoner by one Orontes one of Darius' Captains, and after hanged upon the top of a high mountain: doubtless a notable example for such as make fortune their Goddess (if any such there be) who have indeed, no reason to think they are advanced by fortune, but even the guiltiness of their own base and vicious minds, worthy of no part of Polycrates advancement, but even his last.  
Dionysius a tyrant of Sicily (and son of that tyrant that spoilt the Churches, and took away a cloak of gold from jupiter, saying, a cloth cloak was lighter for summer, and warmer for winter: and took away Aesculapius' golden beard, saying, it was a saucy part for him to have a long beard, and his father Apollo to ha●e none.) This Dionysius (that we may see how well the children of them prosper, that scorn the false gods and believe not in the true) continued his father's tyranny in Syracuse, and was by them enforced to fly the Realm; so as being a runagate having no means to live, he went to Corinth, and lived there a private and mean life: as in the life of Tymoleon in Plutarch is set down at large, and is very well worth the reading, for the many pretty sayings and pleasant scoffings that were given him, and some returned by him again: as that, of one that in derision coming into the room where Dionysius sat (in a blind tavern, or alehouse) shook his gown, (so they used to do, that came to the presence of tyrants, to show they had no weapons about them) tush saith Dionysius, this was needless at your coming in, but at your going out it would not be amiss, to see if you steal nothing with you. Yet this virtue Dionysius had, (if a tyrant can have any virtue) that he bore his adversity not only patiently, but even pleasantly, which is surely praiseworthy, according to that I spoke before in the Moral, not to be abashed with evil fortune, which also Dionysius himself confessed he had gotten by Philosophy: and sure it is a point of good courage to be able to bear adversity, according to that saying: 
Fortiter ille facit, qui miser esse potest.   
Of Marius I need not speak much, considering how largely his whole life is set down in the forenamed Plutarkes lives, only I will add a word of Valerius Maximus opinion of his fortune. Nothing in the world (saith he) could be more variable than the state of Marius: For if you will place him among the unfortunate, you shall find him most miserable, if among the happy, you shall find him most fortunate.  
Two examples are alleged by mine author of this age. jews the 12. of France, and Mathias Coruino of Hungary. Of these two a word: Charles the 8. king of France conceiving some displeasure against the Duke of Orleans, father to to this jews, cut off his head, and was in some doubt and mammering if he should not do as much to his son, yet after many hard adventures, it was his hap at last to be king of France.  
Mathias Coruino was kept in close prison by Vladislaus king of Hungary, because his elder brother had slain the Earl of Cyglia, uncle to the said king, but the king dying young and without issue, this Mathias was made of a prisoner, a Prince: but of this kind of sudden change, our Realm hath one example, that passeth not only these, but all (I think) that have been heard of, or written: and that is the Queen's most excellent Majesty that now is, who from the expectation of a most undeserved death, came to the possession of a most renowned kingdom: for what greater extremity could one come from? or what greater felicity might one come to? She that was sent for from Asbridge, with commandment to be brought either alive or dead, she that was committed to the Tower of London, she that was so often and so straightly examined: she that demanded if the Lady janes' scaffold were taken down, doubting to play on the same such another Pageant; she that doubted murdering if her keeper had been an ill disposed man, she that sent word to her servants that came to know how she did (tanquam ovis:) last, she that wrote in the window at Woodstock with a Diamond: 
Much suspected by me, quoth Elizabeth prisoner:  
Nothing proved can be, quoth Elizabeth prisoner:  Became of the sudden a crowned Queen, with greater applause, then either jews in France, or Coruino in Hungary, and not only hath reigned, but doth reign most happily. All which her highness troubles, myself have the better cause to remember, because the first work I did after I could write Latin, was to translate that story out of the book of Martyrs into Latin, 
This little book was given to her Majesty.  as M. Thomas Arundel and Sir Edward Hobby can tell, who had their parts in the same task, being then scholars in Eaton as I was, and nmaely that last verse I remember was translated thus: 
Plurimi de me malè suspicantur,  
Attamen de me mala non probantur.  
Elizabetha  
carcere clausa.  And thus much for example of the change of fortunes.  
In Bradamants fight against Rogero, 
Allegory.  we may see how our opinion blinded with a false supposition, striveth oftentimes most vehemently against that it would be loath to overthrow, if it were rightly informed.  
The cruel mind of the Theodora, alludes to the cruelty of another Theodora, 
Allusion.  wife to justinianus, who exercised all those cruelties (that this intended against Rogero) upon Pope Vigilius.  
Here and the notes of the xlv. book.   

  

THE XLVI. BOOK.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Leon by search, doth good Rogero find,  
And having learned the cause of his annoy,  
He grants to him his love in manner kind,  
Whom now Rogero, sweetly doth enjoy:  
Only the Sarzan king with hateful mind,  
Comes to disturb Rogeros' ease and toy,  
Nevertheless he is decciued of his account,  
In fine, Rogero kills fierce Rodomount.  

1  
NOw if my compass, and my card be true;  
I am not fatre from that desired cost,  
Where I shall pay my vow, and promise dew,  
Unto my Saint, of whose great grace I boast.  
I looked erst with pale, and chearlesse hue,  
For fear in this wide Ocean to be lost,  
But now me think I see, I now see surely  
The haven, in which I harbour shall securely.   

2  
Hark, hark, what peals of Ordinance great and Guns,  
Are shot in token of congratulation,  
Hark how they sound the Trumpets, & the Drums,  
To gratulate my happy navigation:  
See how on either shore the people runs,  
To see me after my long per'grination,  
Behold a crew of peerless knights, and dames,  
Now I discern them, now I know their names.   

3  
But least my ship should perish in the port,  
As oft it doth befall for want of heed,  
I will go forward in my first report,  
And tell to you how well the prince did speed  
That sought Rogero, who in woeful fort,  
Did pine and languished, and wished indeed,  
Sith that dame Bradamant he might not marry,  
To die all comfortless, and solitary.   

4  
But sage Melyssa that had ever sought,  
To make that match (as often hath been fed.)  
And evermore did take great care, and thought,  
That good Rogero Bradamant might wed,  
By her great skill in Magicko art so wrought,  
She had continual notice how they sped;  
Two spirits she did employ for that intent,  
And still as one came home, another went.   

5  
By them, she quickly had intelligence,  
How he had ta'en so inward grief and great,  
He taryd in a wood with firm pretence,  
To pine himself away, with want of meat:  
Melyssa parteth presently from thence,  
And with some secret words she did repeat,  
In likeness of a horse a spirit she took,  
And to met Leon, that for him did look.   

6  
And thus she said to him, sir, if you be  
So gracious, as your semblance makes me ween,  
If your good mind with your good looks agree,  
If so you have not lost all pity clean,  
Come then, o'come and help and join with me,  
To aid the bravest knight, that ere was seen,  
Who for one courteous part that he hath done,  
(Except you help) is like to beundone.   

7  
The noblest, stourest, and the prowest knight,  
That ever carried shield, or blade forth drew,  
The seemlyest, and most worthy minded wight,  
That ever was in age, or old, or new,  
Is like to perish in most woeful plight,  
Except he may relieved be by you;  
Come quickly then, unto his aid perdy,  
And suffer not so brave a man to die.   

8  
Don Leon strait supposed in his mind,  
That this same knight, of whom the stranger spoke,  
Was he whom long he sought and could not find,  
And be for whom such care himself did take:  
Melissa leads the way, he close behind  
Doth follow her, and so good shift they make,  
That in some twain, at most in three hours riding  
They came there where Rogero was abiding.   

9  
Now being at the place to which they hafted,  
They both alighted there, with mind to stay.  
There saw they how he pined away and wasted,  
For in two days before, nor all that day,  
No liquor he had drunk, nor meat had tasted,  
But in his armour on the ground he lay,  
And made a pillow of that noble shield,  
With th'unicorn upon vermilion field.   

10  
Here as I said, he lay along and mused  
On his own misery, and on that wrong,  
With which he had his love so much abused,  
And bites for grief, his hands, and lips, and tongue;  
And his conceits, and wits were so confused,  
To set his thoughts upon one thing so long,  
And having on his grief so firmly fixed them,  
He saw not them, although he were betwixt them.   

11  
Don Leon hearkened to his lamentation,  
And heard him often call himself unkind,  
And saw him vex himself in such a fashion,  
As unto pity great his heart inclined:  
He finds that love bred all this molestation,  
But yet whose love it was he did not find,  
He heard how sundry times himself he blamed,  
But all that while his love he never named.   

12  
And therefore pitying much his woeful case,  
Although awhile he silent stood and mute,  
Yet after stood before him face to face,  
And with great lovingness doth him salute,  
And with affection great doth him embrace,  
Entreating him, and making special suit,  
That he would tell him plain, and make him know,  
What cause had bred him so great grief and woe.   

13  
Rogero loath to live, resolved to die,  
Prays Leon now to trouble him no more,  
But he most sweetly doth to him reply,  

Sentence.  That God hath made a salve for eu'uie sore,  
If men would learn the same how to apply,  

Sentence.  And that no one thing may avail man more,  
To cure a grief, and perfectly to heal it,  
Then if he do unto some friend reveal it.   

14  
And sure (said he) I take it in ill part,  
Because you trust not me, that am your friend,  
Not only, since with your late friendly part,  
You bound me unto you, to my lives end,  
But was e'en then, when you with hateful hart,  
At Belgrade siege did me and mine offend,  
Think not but I will still procure your good.  
Both with my lands, my friends, and with my blood.   

15  
Why should it grieve you to declare your grief,  
To one that may perhaps your loss repair:  
Bad haps are holp with hope, and good belief, 
Sentence.   
Wherefore a wise man never will despair:  
I hope myself shall bring you some relief,  
By force, by policy, or else by prayer,  
When all means have been tried, and all hope passed  
Then die, at least keep that unto the last.   

16  
These words so earnestly Don Leon spoke,  
And with such efficacy him he prayed,  
Beleeching him, his friendly counsel take,  
That other now, with kindness overlaid,  
Was forced an answer unto him to make;  
But in his answer, suddenly he stayed,  
And slammerd twice, ere he could bring it out,  
Despair still moving him to causeless doubt.   

17  
Good sir (he said) when I my name shall show,  
As I do mean, and that e'en by and by,  
You will be then full well content I trow,  
To grant me leave and liberty to die:  
I am Rogero (if you needs will know)  
That went from France (and if I shall not lie)  
Mine arrant was, your fire and you to kill,  
And would have done it, had I had my will.   

18  
And all because endeavoured I then supposed,  
Your only life, did let me of my love,  
Man purposes, but all things are disposed, 
Sentence,   
By that great God, that fits and rules above:  
Behold it hapst I was in prison closed,  
And there I did your noble curtsy prove,  
For there you did me such a great good turn,  
As all my haved into love did turn.   

19  
And having bound me with so great desert,  
And ignorant, that I Rogero was,  
You did your secrets unto me impart,  
And prayed me win for you, that warlike lass,  
Which was all one, as to have asked my hart;  
Yet lo for you, I brought the same to pass,  
Now take her to yourself, and much good do you,  
More good than to myself, I with unto you.   

20  
But yet withal forbid me not to die,  
As now I trust I shall, ere many hours,  
For live as well without a soul can I,  
As without her, that holds my vital powers:  
And sure 'tis best for your, behoof, for why  
While I do live, she is not lawful yours,  
For we two are betrothed, and law allows,  
One woman, but of one to be the spouse.   

21  
Don Leon with these news was so accrazed,  
He seemed in a trance, he knew not how,  
And on Rogero steadfastly he gazed,  
Not ever moving lip, nor hand, nor brow,  
But like an Image long he stood amazed,  
That some hath hallowd to perform his vow,  
This act of his, so courteous he doth ween,  
He thinks the like before had never been.   

22  
So that he did not (when he knew his name)  
Repent him of the good he had him done,  
But rather greatly did increase the same,  
Proceeding in the course he had begun:  
Wherefore to show from how great stock he came  
And that he was indeed an Emperiors son:  
Although in other things he was inferior,  
In courtesy, he means to be superior.   

23  
And thus (he said) my dear Rogero know,  
If I as well had known your person, when  
As by your means I had an overthrow,  
And that you foiled me and all my men:  
Yet that great virtue that you there did show,  
Should e'en in manner like have moved me then;  
And so I would all malice have removed,  
And so I would your virtue great have loved.   

24  
That once I did dislike Rogeros' name,  
Before I knew you, I must needs confess,  
But that I now continue should the same,  
Assure yourself I purpose nothing less:  
And if when first I to the prison came,  
To set you free from danger and distress,  
I known had all the truth, yet than I vow,  
I would have done the same I will do now.   

25  
And surely, if I would have done it then,  
When I had reason to have borne you hate,  
Much rather now I ought to do it, when  
Not doing it I should be most ungrate,  
And most unthankful of all other men;  
Sith you your love, your life, and whole estate,  
Have freely given for me, but as you gave it,  
Of me again, so freely you shall have it.   

26  
More due to you then me, the Damsel is,  
Whom though I much esteem of due desert,  
Yet not so much, that if I her do miss,  
Straightways the grief thereof should kill my hart:  
Nor shall your death advantage me in this,  
Sith you in her already claim such part,  
That lawfully while you abide in life,  
She can by no means be another's wise.   

27  
As for my part, first I will quite forsake  
Both her, and all my worldly joys beside,  
Then it shall once be said, that for may sake,  
A noble knight of so great worth had died:  
This only thing I could unkindly take,  
That you that had before my kindness tried,  
Would rather choose to end your days with grief,  
Then at my hands have comfort and reliese.   

28  
These words Don Leon spoke, and many more,  
Which now would be too tedious to recite,  
Refuting good Rogero evermore,  
That in conclusion, being vanquished quite:  
He said, I yield, and i'll resist no more,  
I will not die; but when shall I requite  
Your courtesy, that twice to me have given  
My life, when I to greatest woe was driven?   

29  
Now had Melissa caused to be brought,  
Both cordial meats, and wines of her puruaying,  
And made him take the same, who now with thought,  
And tasting long, was e'en almost decaying:  
His horse likewise (as nature hath them taught)  
Came where he heard the other horses naying:  
Don Leon cauld his lackeys him to get,  
And then his saddle on his back to let.   

30  
And so Rogero with Don Leon's aid,  
With much ado, did clammer to his feat,  
So greatly was his former strength decayed,  
With which he overthrew an army great:  
And lately did withstand that warlike maid,  
So weakly weaponed, as I did repeat:  
And thus with all convenient speed they might,  
They brought him to an Abbey that same night.   

31  
Where all the night, and three days that ensewd,  
They stayed, and had of needful things good store,  
Until Rogero had his strength renewed,  
Which had with fasting long, been weakened sore:  
Then privily among them they conclude,  
To turn to Paris, where the night before,  
A few Bulgarians, came with an embassage,  
And this was all the substance of their message.   

32  
They said how that the people of their Nation,  
To whom Rogero late such aid did bring,  
Beyond all hope, beyond all expectation,  
Had therefore chosen him to be their king:  
Rejecting all their own king's generation,  
And all his royal race (no usual thing)  
So much they loved him, so well they leek him,  
And therefore sent to Charles his court to seek him.   

33  
Rogeros lackey that had been their guide,  
Told cake his master's friends how he had sped,  
As namely how the greeks he damnifide,  
And how the Bulgars having lost their head,  
Chose him for king, how he alone did ride,  
To Novengrade, where he was rane in bed,  
And unto Theodora was presented,  
Who purposed to have him sore tormented.   

34  
And how, he heard it commonly was spoken,  
That he his cruel keeper closely slew,  
And that the Prison gates were rend and broken,  
And he was gone, but whither no man knew:  
Now while Rogeros' man such things did open,  
Rogero closely out of all men's view,  
Did come to town, and there that night did stay,  
And he and Leon, came to Charles next day.   

35  
Don Leon arm in arm Rogero led,  
(Thus it was then devised them between)  
With that self cote, and arms appareled,  
That were of late by all the people seen,  
Then when dame Bradamant had combated  
With Leon, (as they falsely then did ween)  
That battered sword, that cote, that plume all torn,  
That headpiece now, was by Rogero worn.   

36  
By which each man e'en at first fight surmised,  
This was that knight that had the Lady won,  
Don Leon self bore faced, undisguised,  
Came richly clothed, like an Emp'rors' son,  
And with retinue not to be despised:  
And when he had to Charles due reverence done,  
Rogero by the hand he then did take,  
On whom all eyes were fixed, and thus he spoke.   

37  
This is that stout and well approved knight,  
That did with Bradamant fight hand to hand,  
Whom sith she never took nor put to flight,  
But that he did twelve hours her force withstand,  
(Most worthy sir) to have her aught of right,  
If your edict we rightly understand:  
And therefore now accordingly he cometh,  
To lay his claim to her, as best becometh.   

38  
Besides his right by proclamation known,  
That justly doth all others claim debar,  
I think the value that he now hath shown,  
Proves his sufficiency in feats of war:  
If love may win her, she is sure his own,  
His love to her doth pass all others far;  
And here he stands prepared to aver,  
By law or force, that he hath right to her.   

39  
King Charles and all his court did greatly muse  
At this, for why till then they little thought,  
That he before did them so much abuse,  
But that himself had that same combat fought:  
This while Marfisa, that with flying news  
Of this same strange report was thither brought,  
Scant him to end his speech she would permit,  
But presently this wife she answered it   

40  
Sith now Rogero absent is from hence,  
That might his right against this knight defend,  
And prove that this is but a vain pretence,  
Because the strife shall not so easily end:  
I that his sister am, in his defence,  
And in defence of this same cause intend,  
To fight with whomsoever in this place,  
As shall deny his title or disgrace.   

41  
And these last words she spoke with such desdaine,  
That some that knew her nature (hasty ever)  
Did fear she scantly would e'en then refrain,  
But without leave to kill him strait endeavour:  
Now Leon thinks it best no longer feign;  
And forthwith pulling of Rogero beaver,  
Lo here himself now ready priest (he said)  
To answer all shall to his charge be laid.   

42  

Smile look in the history.  As old Aegeus at his cursed board  
Amazed sat, to find his spouses' wile,  
When to his son she poison did afford,  
And if he lingered had a little while,  
And had not known the handle of his sword,  
Had killed his son, he gate by Pitheus' guile:  
So stood Marfisa mazed in the place,  
When as she saw and knew Rogeros' face.   

43  
And strait she runs, and on his neck doth fall,  
And long it was ere from him she could part,  
Renald ', Orlando, Charles, afore them all  
Embraced him, and welcomed from their hart:  
Good Dudon, Oliver, with joy not small,  
And old Sobrino, health to him impart,  
Eke all the other Lords and knights, and squires,  
To bid him welcome show most prompt desires.   

44  
Don Leon that in speech was eloquent,  
When every one had done his gratulation,  
Begins to tell to Charles incontinent,  
And all the rest, Rogeros' commendation:  
And how he to the Bulgars succour lent,  
(To no small damage of the Greekish nation)  
And showed such noble courage and such force,  
As him to love Rogero did enforce.   

45  
So as when he was after ta'en and brought,  
To her that vowed with torment him to slay,  
Himself in spite of her, and all that sought  
To hurt Rogero, brought him safe away:  
For which kind part of his, Rogero thought  
Himself so bound to him, that he last day,  
Did him that courtesy that sure doth pass,  
The greatest courtesy that ever was.   

46  
He further doth from point to point declare,  
What for his sake, Rogero had achieved,  
But after this, with anguish great and care,  
The loss of his beloved so sore him grieved  
As he to pine away did strait prepare,  
Had not his sorrow been in time relieved:  
All which so ruefully Don Leon sed,  
Scarce was an eye, but tears with blindness shed.   

47  
Then spoke he to that obstinate old man,  
I mean Duke Ammon, that fair Lady's fire,  
And with all skill, and Rhetoric he can,  
He woos his love, and pacifies his ire:  
That by entreaty at the last he won,  
Himself to go in person, and desire  
Rogeros' pardon; praying him in th' end,  
To take him for his father-in law and friend.   

48  
This while to Bradamant the joyful tiding  
Was quickly brought, by more than one report,  
Who in her chamber all her sorrow hiding,  
Eschewd all solace, shunning all resort:  
Whereby the blood about the hart abiding,  
Was drawn now thence in such a sudden sort,  
And this unlooked for joy so overfild her,  
That e'en the suddenness had almost killed her.   

49  
Quite speechless, lifeless sinking to the ground,  
(So strange a quame her tender heart did feel)  
And she in whom such force was lately found,  
For want of strength did here and thither reel;  
But ne'er did thief with hands together bound, 
Smile.   
Condemned to the rope, the axe, or wheel,  
And blindfold, looking every hour to die,  
joy more to hear some man a pardon cry.   

50  
The houses of Mongrane, and Montalbane,  
Rejoice at these their branches newly knit,  
But by Maganza comfort small is ta'en,  
For in their hearts they sorry were for it:  
Anselmus, Falcon, Gynamus, and Gane,  
Dissembling yet their thoughts with crafty wit  
But for a time of vengeance they do watch,  
As doth the Fox, the hurtless hare to catch.   

51  
Beside old quarrels and their ancient hate,  
New matters done of late did them displease,  
Although the king, and wife men of the state,  
For common quiet, did the same appease:  
The death of Pynabello slain but late,  
And Bertolage, did much their minds disease:  
Yet now in show they do dissemble deep,  
And close in mind they do their malice keep,   

52  
In this mean time, th'Ambassadors that came,  
To Charles' his court, by those Bulgarian sent,  
Rejoicing now that thing so well did frame,  
In humble manner to Rogero went:  
And did salute him king, as in the name  
Of all their countrymen incontinent,  
And so accordingly did lowly greet,  
Their new made Prince, and kneeled at his feet.   

53  
They told him how their Sceptre and their Crown,  
Was safely kept, alone for his behoof,  
In Adrianopolis their chiefest town:  
And for they knew by many a former proof,  
That Constantito strove to keep them down,  
They pray him not to stay so far allofe;  
Affirming boldly that if he were there,  
The forces of all Greece they would not fear.   

54  
Rogero granteth them their just request,  
And promised to defend them from the greeks,  
And vows if God permit, to do his best,  
To be with them within some thirteen weeks:  
But Leon bids them set their heart at rest,  
He tells them that their choice so well he leeks,  
He on his Princely word will undertake,  
Twixt Constantino and them, firm peace to make.   

55  
Thus each thing framed now in so good sort,  
As could be wished by thought, or by devise,  
But neither did Rogeros good report,  
Get favour with ambitious Beatrice,  
Nor parsonage that past the common sort,  
Nor feats of arms, in which he won the prize;  
And of the which, all Europe now did ring,  
But only this, to see him made a king.   

56  
In royal sort this marriage they prepare,  
(Whose charge it was, the state will make it known)  
Charles bore the charge, and took thereof such care  
As if she were a daughter of his own:  
Of her and hers, so great the merits are,  
And had to him so many ways been shown;  
He thought the cost had not exceeded measure,  
If he had spent upon them half his treasure.   

57  
He kept an open court by proclamation,  
Where nine days space, who list may freely baunt,  
Men of their own, and men of foreign Nation,  
To all of them he did safe conduct grant:  
And all that stood upon their reputation,  
That sought their foes in single fight to daunt,  
Had licence frank, to challenge whom they lists,  
For evermore prepared were the lists.   

58  
In open fields they pitched tents great store,  
Beside with Oaken boughs they made such bowers,  
Strawing the pavements of them evermore,  
With fragrant Roses and sweet smelling flowers;  
That never bade the like been seen before,  
Nor never since, from that same age to ours;  
Besides the furnitures of silk and gold,  
Was more than can conveniently be told.   

59  
Th' innumerable people of each sort,  
From Greece, from England, Italy and Spain,  
Th'Ambassadors that thither did resort,  
Beside each several Prince, a several train,  
Did cause the city walls to seem too short,  
To lodge them all, so they in fine were feign,  
In hovels, booths, in tents, and in pavilions,  
To lodge some thousands, if I say not millions.   

60  
Only Melissa's care was to foresee,  
The marriage chamber should be well attired,  
Which by her skill she meant should furnished be;  
For long to make the match she had aspired:  
Which now that she accomplished did see,  
She thought she had the thing she most desired:  
For by her skill in Magic, She did know,  
What passing fruit, forth of that branch should grow   

61  
Wherefore she place the fruitful wedding bed, 
This section of pavilion is to take occasion to praise 〈◊〉.   
Amid a fair and large pavilion, which  
Was e'en the sumptuolest, that ere was spread,  
Of silk, and beaten gold wrought every stitch:  
And more; from over Constantinos head,  
At Thracyan shore, where he his tents did pitch  
Fast by the sea, for his more recreation,  
She took the same to his great admiration.   

62  
Were it that Leon gave consent thereto,  
Or that she did the same, her skill to vaunt,  
To show what one by Magic art can do,  
That have the skill the fends of hell to daunt:  
(For what cannot their power achieve unto,  
When for our plague, God leave to them will grant)  
From Thrace to Paris in twelve hours it came,  
I trow she sent one in the devils name.   

63  
She caused it to be carried at noon day,  
From Constantino, Emperor then of Greece,  
The beam, the staves, the cords they brought away,  
The pings, the hoops, and every little piece:  
She placed it whereas she meant to lay  
Atlanta's Nephew, with his new made Niece: 
Rogero Nephew to Atlans.   
In this pavilion she did place their bedding.  
And sent it back when finished was the wedding.   

64  
Two thousand year before, or not much less,  
This rich pavilion had in Troy been wrought,  
By fair Cassandra, that same Prophetess,  

Ura, de● russuno unquarn creaira T●●●●.  That had (but all in vain) in youth been taught,  
Of future things to give most certain guess,  
For her true speech was ever set at nought  
She wrought this same, with help of many other,  
And gave it Hector, her beloved brother.   

65  

Hippolito of Hector's race.  The worthiest wight that e'er man did behold,  
That should proceed forh of his noble line,  
She here portrayed, in work of silk and gold,  
Of precious substance, and of colour fine:  
Also the time and season was foretold,  
Both of his birth, and of his praise divine:  
Don Hector of this gift great count did make,  
Both for the work, and for the workers sake.   

66  
But when himself by treason foul was slain,  
And Troy was by the greeks defaced quite,  
Who entered it by Sinon's subtle train,  
And worse ensewd there of then Poets write:  
Then Menelaus did this great relic gain,  

Proteus, look in the 〈◊〉.  And after on king Proteus happed to light,  
Who gave to him dame Helen ere he went,  
And for reward received of him this tent.   

67  
And thus to Egypt that time it came,  
Where with the Ptolemies it long remained,  
Till Cleopatra, that lascivious dame,  
As by inheritance, the same obtained:  
Agrippa's men by seathen took the same,  
What time in Rome Augustus Caesar reigned:  
And then in Rome, while Rome was th'Empires seat  
It stayed till time of Constantine the great.   

68  

That was he, that gave Rome to the Pope.  That Emperor Constantine I mean, of whom  
Fair Italy for ever shall lament,  
Who when he loathed Tiber banks and Rome,  
Unto the city of Byzantium went,  
A place of more receipt, and larger room,  
And thither this pavilion than he sent:  
Of which the cords were golden wire and silk,  
The staves and pings, were lu'rie white as milk.   

69  
In this, Cassandra wrought such divers faces,  
More than Apelles erst with Pencil drew,  
A queen in childbed lay, to whom the graces  
With pleasant grace performed Lucynas' dew:  
jove, Mercury, and Mars in other places,  
And Venus do receive the babe borne new:  

The first age gold The 2 silver The 3 brass, The 4 Iron.  The sweetest babe that to the world came forth,  
From man's first age, e'en down unto the fourth.   

70  
Hippolito they name him, as appears  
Wrote in small letters on his swathing bands,  
And when he is a little grown in years,  

These were Ambassadors sent by Coruine to bring Hippolito to Hungary.  On one side Fortune, other Virtue stands:  
Then in another picture divers Peers,  
Clad in long raiments, sent from foreign lands,  
Unto the father and the mother came,  
To beg the babe in great Coruynos' name.   

71  
They part from Hercles' with great reverence then,  
And from that infant's mother Elinore,  
Unto Danubia ward, and there the men  
Still run to see that infant and adore:  
Also the king Coruyno wonders when  
He saw in him both wit and judgement more,  
In those his tender childish years and green,  
Then many times in older men had been.   

72  
One doth endeavour in his childish hand,  
Of the Strigonian Realm to put to the mace,  
But evermore the tender youth doth stand,  
So high in that same noble Prince's grace,  
That if he war in manly Almans land,  
Or in the Turks, or any other place;  
Hippolito is ever by his side,  
And learneth virtue under such a guide.   

73  
Another place shows how he doth dispense,  
His youthful time in Discipline and art,  
Fusco instructs him in the hidden sense,  
Of ancient writs, 
Fusco 〈◊〉 star to Hippoli  and precepts doth impart,  
What actions praise, what actions breed offence,  
What be reward of good and ill desert:  
All which the picture did so well express,  
That at the meaning every one might guess.   

74  
Lo where as yet a boy in Vatican, 
When he was made a Cardi●   
Among the gravest Cardinals he doth sit,  
And speaks so wisely, that they all began,  
To wonder at his towardness and wit;  
What manner man (if once he were a man)  
Would this man prove? for Peter's chair how fit?  
They seem to say; oh if he thither climb,  
What holy age were that? what happy time?   

75  
Within another part described were 
Of his activities   
His youthful sports, when he more strong did grow  
Oft in the mountains he doth meet a Bear,  
Oft-times a Boar, in marish grounds and low:  
He rides his Jennet fierce, and void of fear,  
He chaseth oft the Buck, the Hart and Roe,  
And by his horse swift pace, doth over-ride them,  
And then doth with his sword in twain divide them.   

76  
Of Poets then, and of Philosophars. 
Of his study 〈◊〉 company.   
About him you should see a worthy band,  
To make him know the course of wandering stars,  
How heaven doth move, & why the earth doth stand  
Or reading of Elegies, or verse of wars,  
Fine Epigrams, Odes hard to understand:  
Or sometime instruments of Music hearing,  
In all his acts a special grace appearing.   

77  
Then on another part was to bevewd, 
His virtues.   
His virtues, each one by itself distinct,  
First Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude,  
And justice, and afift unto them linked  
So nigh, that who with it is not indewd,  
The rest may seem or blotted, or extinct:  

His bounty  Good bounty, showed in giving and in spending,  
A special grace to all the other lending.   

78  
This one place shows be aids unlucky Sforse,  
Him evermore most faithfully assisting,  

〈◊〉 friend. 〈◊〉  Sometime with policy, sometime with force,  
Him helping, and his enemies resisting  
Of fortunes change he doth but little force,  
In woe and weal, in one faith still persisting:  
He comforts him when evil haps do grieve him,  
In dangers he doth save, in want relieve him.   

79  

〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  Then stands he studying at another season,  
And for his country's safety taking care,  
He searcheth, and he finds by depth of reason,  
And finding, to his brother doth declare  
Their most unnatural and filthy treason,  
That some of his own blood for him prepare,  

〈…〉  By which he doth deserve such name to have,  
As Rome yet free, to tamous Tully gave.   

80  

〈…〉  Fast by he stands all clad in armour bright, And to relieve the Church he runs in post,  
With sudden soldiers, raw and armed light,  
Against a settled and well ordered host:  
Yet did his only presence so affright,  
The adverse part, that one may rightly boast,  

〈…〉  It quenched the fire, ere it to burn began,  
So he may say, I came, I saw, I won.   

81  
Here stands he by his native river side,  
And strait encounters with the strongest fleet,  
That ever yet Venetians did provide,  
'Gainst Greek, or Turk, but he doth boldly meet,  
And vanquished them; and took them at one tide,  
And though the booty and the gain was sweet,  
All (save the praise) he left unto his brother,  
For only that, cannot be given another.   

82  
Thus this Pavilion, as before I told,  
The which Melissa brought so far from thence,  
Did please the knights, and dames that did behold,  
The goodly imagery, and rich expense:  
Although they had not any to unfold,  
The meaning of the same and hidden sense;  
But yet by good Melissa's wise instruction,  
Dame Bradamant did know their whole costruction   

83  
Rogero marked likewise with great attention,  
Those goodly figures calling to his mind,  
That oft his uncle of that Prince made mention,  
Hippolito, the flower of all his kind:  
But now king Charles, whose care is and intention,  
To give to all men entertainment kind,  
Made plays and feasts, with sundry sports and great,  
And evermore the tables filled with meat.   

84  
There, men might plainly see and understand,  
The courage and the strength of every knight,  
Sometimes in single wise, now band to band,  
In justs, and tournaments resembling fight,  
But still Rogero had the upper hand,  
In all his exercise of day and night:  
In leaping, running, wrestling, and in dancing,  
All men him far above the rest advancing.   

85  
But on the last of these days festival,  
Then when to take away they did provide,  
What time king Charles was set amid them all,  
e'en just between the Bridegroom and the Bride,  
Behold they saw a goodly man and tall,  
That seemed directly toward them to ride.  
Most proudly mounted on a coursers back,  
But yet his horse and he, all clad in black.   

86  
This was fierce Rodomont, king of Algyre,  
Who at his late received foil, and I corn  

That was in the 35. book.  Of Bradamant, inflamed with spite and ire,  
All use of horse and armour had forsworn,  
Till one whole year, one month, one day expire,  
But live that while an Hermit all forlorn:  
For so the knights were wont in ancient times,  
Of their own selves, to punish their own crimes.   

87  
And though this while he oft had notice how,  
King Agramant, and how king Charles had sped,  
Yet nevertheless, for not breaking of his vow,  
Forth of the doors he never put his head:  
But when the year and month were ended now,  
And day beside, himself he furnished,  
With armour new, new horse, new sword, new lance,  
And came therewith unto the court of France.   

88  
Not once alighting nor so much as rising,  
For reverence sake, to bow his head or knee,  
He bore the countenance of a man despising,  
Both Charles, and all those Peers of great degree:  
At this each man amazed stands devising,  
What proud and saucy fellow this might be,  
From talking and from eating each man stays,  
To hearken what this lofire warrior lays.   

89  
Now when he was to th'emperor come so nigh,  
That he Rogero fully did confront,  
With stately voice, and with disdainful cry,  
(He saith) I am the king of Sarza Rodomont,  
That thee Rogero flatly here defy,  
And ere the Sun go down make full account,  
To prove thou hast been false unto thy Prince,  
And openly of treason thee convince.   

90  
For though thy treachery be known so clear,  
In being Christened, thou canst not deny it,  
Yet that to all the world it may appear,  
I offer here in single fight to try it:  
Or if thy courage fail, if any here  
Will take on them thy quarrel, to supply it,  
I will accept of any one or more,  
Yea, not to fail, of six or half a score.   

91  
Rogero, when he first had licence craved  
Of Charles, this wise to Rodomont replied,  
(And said) he ever had his honour saved,  
And who so said contrary, loudly lied:  
For he had to his Prince himself behaved,  
Most loyally e'en to the day he died:  
And said he there was ready to maintain,  
That yet his faith had never suffered stain.   

92  
And that himself was bold enough and strong,  
With him to buckle hand to hand alone,  
And that he hoped to make him feel ere long,  
He had enough, perhaps too much of one:  
Straightways Renaldo to avenge this wrong,  
Orlando, and the Marquis would have gone,  
Marsisa with the brother's white and black,  
And Dudon would be on the Pagan's jack.   

93  
Alleging, that sith he was newly married,  
For him to fight, it was against all vie,  
But from their speeches his opinion varid,  
And swears that that for him was no excuse:  
Those arms that erst the famous Tartar carid,  
He takes, nor will he make one hour of truce:  
To arm him, all those states their aids afford,  
King Charles him●elie, holp to put on his sword.   

94  
His wife takes care his Curates well may fit,  
Orlando ties his spurs, Marsisa bold  
Doth fast upon his head his beaver knit,  
Asi●lf● is content his horse to hold:  
His 〈◊〉 Dudon; others think it fit,  
To rid the lists and drive out young and old;  
Renaldo, Namus, Oliver, take charge  
To martial it, and make it clear and large.   

95  
Fair dames and dimzels stand with looks dismayed,  

Simile.  With fear and trembling, like to fearful Doves,  
Whó some black tempest-bringing cloud hath afraid,  
And driven from fields, to shroud in houses rooves:  
(Downe falls the hail which which the come is laid,  
And profitless unto his owner proves)  
So do they this fierce Pagan's forces fear,  
Which sure they judged, Rogero cannot bear.   

96  
Not only do saint people so surmise,  
But many knights of worth, the same did ween,  
That called to mind what erst before their eyes,  
To their grief they had in Parish seen:  
When he with fire and sword in fearful wise,  
Did wellnigh spoil the town, and waste it clean:  
Of which the woeful signs did still appear,  
And would remain yet many a month and year.   

97  
But Bradamant more feared than all the rest,  
Not that she thought in strength or skill well tried  
The Pagan past her spouse, nor valiant breast,  

Sentence.  Or that he had more reason of his side,  
(Which unto victory avails not least,  
When men by combat quarrels do decide)  
Yet still her mind is sad, her looks uncheatfull,  

Sentence Ed res sollicui plena 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Nor blame her though, for love is ever fearful.   

98  
Great suit she makes, great labour to procure,  
That upon her she may the quarrel take,  
Yea if to have been slain she had been sure,  
To lave her spouse, but all in vain she spoke:  
The champions now their lances put in ure,  
And each with couched spear the tother strake:  

〈◊〉.  The staves like Ice in shiners small did fly,  

Simile.  The splints like birds did mount unto the sky.   

99  
The Pagan that his lance did full direct,  
Against the middle of Rogeros' shield,  
Did smite on it to small or none effect,  
For Vulcan had the same most firmly steeled:  
The tother's Target had no known detect,  
Yet to the stroke it did a passage yield:  
Yet was it thick, a quarter of a foot  
Of bone, and lined with plated steel to boot.   

100  
And save the lance sustained not the blow,  
But at the first did break and was dispersed,  
So that the pieces of it seemed in show,  
To have been feathered fowls (as I rehearsed)  
That stroke had finished that strife I trow,  
And had his Curates and his body pierced:  
But now it broke, and both gave strokes so sound,  
As made both horses cruppers kiss the ground.   

101  
The riders near the less sat firm and steady,  
And laboured so well with spur and rain,  
Their horses were got up on foot already,  
The men so fight address themselves again  
With swords; their horses both were strong & ready  
And each with skill some vantage sought to gain,  
And where they thought their armours were most thin,  
With force they strove to pierce & enter in.   

102  
Fierce Rodomont had not that Serpents hide  
He used to wear, nor yet that shaving blade,  
That he was wont to carry by his side,  
For Nimrod his great ancestor first made;  
He lost those arms, and many more beside,  
Then when as Bradamant did him invade,  
At that same church, where he a twelvemonth since,  
Entombed Isbell, with that peerless Prince.   

103  
He had another armour good and sure,  
But not like that so passing tough and hard,  
But neither this, nor any else could dure,  
Against the piercing edge of Ballisard:  
No mixture such, no metal was so pure,  
No charm so strong, but that this blade them marred:  
Rogero so besturd him with this blade,  
More than on hole, in tother's coat he made.   

104  
Now though a little while the Pagan cloaks  
His hurts received, with unappaled mind,  
Yet when he saw his blood, and felt the strokes  
So smart, that still they seemed the quick to find:  

Simile.  To so great wrath and rage it him provokes,  
e'en like the sea turmoiled with blustering wind,  
He hurls away his shield, and doth endeavour,  
With both his hands to cleave Rogeros' beaver.   

105  
With force as great he strikes, and as extreme, 
Simile. The like is as London bridge.   
As doth that engine in the River Poe,  
Borne twixt two ships, upon the stately stream,  
Enforcing down with many a heavy blow,  
Some piece of timber, or some sharpened beam:  
I say the Pagan smore Rogero so,  
Had not the charmed helmet been of force,  
He doubtless would have clou'n him & his horse.   

106  
Rogero sitteth staggering in his seat,  
His hand the bridle left, his thighs their hold,  
Rodomont gives another blow as great,  
To maze him more by all the means he could:  
And last a third, but now he so did beat  
His blade of metal free, it would not hold,  
But burst in twain, with his continual hammering,  
And left the Pagan in no little mammering.   

107  
But yet for this the Turk doth not restaine,  
But still invades the knight that wants defence,  
So had the blow amazed his head and brain,  
So dazed had the blow his wit and sense:  
The Pagan minds to waken him again,  
First he doth close with him, and so from thence,  
Wring him by the neck with all his force,  
To leave the saddle he doth him enforce.   

108  
He fell, but yet the ground he touched seant,  
But that he rose, inflamed with wrath and shame;  
For looking up, he saw fair Bradamant,  
Whose blush did show how ill she took the same:  
Yea e'en of sounding she did little want,  
And still her fainting colour went and came;  
Which seen, Rogero with his sword intends,  
For this so great disgrace to make amends.   

109  
The Pagan with his horse would overrun him,  
And justles him, but he with little pain,  
Doth step aside, and warily doth shun him,  
And with his left hand takes the horse's rain:  
(So as the Turk thereby no hurt hath done him)  
The while he puts in ure his sword again,  
And with two thrusts, he did the Pagan harm,  
One in his thigh, another in his arm.   

110  
The Turk with whom a piece did yet remain,  
Of that same blade that was in pieces flown,  
Smote on Rogeros' headpiece so again,  
As▪ had well-nigh again him overthrown:  
But good Rogero now perceiving plain,  
His vantage that was erst to him unknown,  
Takes him by his left arm with all his force,  
And (will he nill he) pulls him from his horse.   

111  
Were it his strength or sleight, I cannot tell,  
But so he fell, no odds was them between,  
My meaning is that on his feet he fell,  
For in the swords, Rogeroes odds was seen:  
Rogero that did know his vantage well,  
To keep him now at bay his best doth ween;  
It is not best for him he doth suppose,  
With such a strong, and big boned man to close.   

112  
He further saw what store of blood he spilled,  
So now he hopes by warily proceeding,  
To force his foe to yield, and lean the tilt,  
Whose strength decayed, still more & more with bleeding:  
The Turk then takes the pommel and the hilt  
Of his own sword, and with force so exceeding  
Did hurl the same, he smote the knight so sore,  
He stunned him more than e'er he was before.   

113  
It strake him twixt the shoulders and the head,  
And gave to him a blow so firm and sound,  
That good Rogero there with staggered,  
And scant could keep his feet upon the ground;  
The Turk to close with him than hastened,  
But lo his foot did fail with former wound,  
So that his too much haste (as oft we see)  
Did hurt, and made him fall upon his knee.   

114  
Rogero lost no time in manful wise,  
To strike fierce Rodomont in breast or face,  
And holds him short, and so his force applies,  
He laid him on the ground, but in short space,  
In spite of him, the Pagan doth arise,  
And with small kindness he doth him embrace:  
And then they strive, heave, shove, thrust to and fro,  
And either seeks the tother's overthrow.   

115  
Each strives with all his skill, and his ability,  
By force to lay the tother on the ground,  
Now Rodomont was grown to some debility,  
By means of more than one received wound,  
Rogero had great practice and agility,  
And usdeto wrestle, and he quickly found  
His vantage, which he did not overslip,  
But on his weakest side his foe doth trip.   

116  
The Turk most full of wrath and of despite,  
Upon Rogeros' neck took steadfast hold,  
Now drawing toward him with all his might,  
Now thrusting him back from him all he could:  
And by and by he heaved him quite upright,  
As strong Antheus was in time of old:  
Rogero notwithstanding sure doth stand,  
And laboured still to have the upper hand.   

117  
Full oft the valiant knight his hold doth shift,  
And with much pretty sleight, the same did slip:  
In fine he doth apply one special drift,  
Which was to get the Pagan on the hip:  
And having caught him right, he doth him list,  
By nimble sleight, and in such wise doth trip:  
That down he threw him, and his fall was such,  
His headpiece was the first that ground did touch.   

118  
The Turk with such an hard and heavy fall,  
Was sore perplexed, and bruised in such wise,  
His wounds fell fresh on bleeding therewithal,  
And make the place vermilion where he lies.  
Rogero gives him respite very small,  
But keep's him down and will not let him rise:  
And presently presents his dagger point  
Unto this throat, and to his chiefest joint,   

119  
As those that dig and search for golden ore, 
Simile.   
Within Pannonian, or Iberian hills,  
Not underpropping sure the ground before,  
Oft for a plague of their too greedy wills,  
With sudden ruin, are surprised so sore,  
As to get forth again, doth pass their skills:  
So was the Turk held down, and pressed so,  
By brave Rogero his triumphant so.   

120  
Who now his naked dagger did present,  
Unto the tother's vizer at his eye,  
And with sharp words he told him that he meant,  
Except he yield. to kill him by and by:  
But Rodomont, that rather than relent,  
Or show base mind a thousand deaths would die,  
No word doth speak, but strove himself to sunder  
From him, or if he could to get him under.   

121  

Simi'e, and a ve 〈◊〉 apl comparison, for a g●ho●d will ou●r●some a m●lliue in continuance of tied, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 been tried.  e'en as a Mastiff fell, whom Grewnd more fell,  
Hath tired, and in his throat now fastened hath  
His cruel fangs, yet doth in vain rebel,  
Though under him, and seeks to do some skath:  
For still the Grewnd prevails, and doth excel  
In force of breath, though not in rage and wrath:  
So doth the cruel Pagan strive and strain,  
To get from under him, but all in vain.   

122  
But with long striving and with wondrous pains,  
He freed his better arm, and void of awe,  
His dagger that in his right hand remains,  
Which in this later bick'ring he did draw,  
He seeks to stab into Rogeros' rains;  
But now the valiant youth the peril saw,  
Then for his sasties sake he was constrained,  
To kill the cruel Turk that grace disdained.   

123  
And lifting his victorious hand on high,  
In that Turks face he stabbed his dagger twice  
up to the hilts, and quickly made him die,  
And rid himself of trouble in a trise:  
down to the lake, where damned ghosts do lie,  
Sunk his disdainful soul, now cold as Ice,  
Blaspheming as it went, and cursing loud,  
That was on earth so lofty and so proud.   

Moral.  This last book of Ariosto is so full of examples of courtesy, as me think we should offer it great discourtesy if we should not ●ike out some good Moral from it, to recommend to your considerations that have perused and read over the book; the first and chiefest courtesy is in Leo, that manageth the whole matter so well for Rogero, knitting the consent of all parties like a well devised Comedy: then Marsisas' kindness is to be praised, that would have fought in defence of her brother honour. Thirdly Ammon doth well to ask pardon of Rogero for his hard usage: then the Bulgars are to ●e allowed for their thank fullness to make him king for his good service: Further Charles the Emperor is to be extolled for 〈◊〉 Pri●ely regard in honouring and feasting them so bountifully at the marriage: Lastly Bradamant and the whole crew that would have emerie one have taken upon them Rogeros' defence against Rodomont, and Rogero not permitting it, yet they disdained not to do him the service to help to arm him, to put on his spurs, to stay his horse, to hold his ●●rop: in all which I doubt not but the noble minded readers will find sufficient matter both to commend, and to imitate without my further labouring to set forth the same. Only one note I may not omit, yea though I were sure to be chidden by some of you (fair Ladies) for my labour, namely, the strong ambition of your sex, which we call weak; For you see how my author in the 55. staff of this Canto hath delivered to us, that Beatrice the mother of Bradamant, would never be wonneto accept Rogero for her son in-law, neither for his gentry, nor his parsonage, nor his value, nor his wit, no nor yet her daughters own choice and affection, till she heard he was chosen a king: with which aspiring humour of women, it seemed how that (never too much praised) Sir Philip Sidney was well acquainted with: making in his Arcadia not only the stately Pamela, to reject the naked virtue of Musidorus, till she found it well clothed with the title to a seepter, but even Mistress Mopsa, when she sat hooded in the tree to beg a boon of Apollo, to ask nothing but to have a king to her husband, and a lusty one to, and when her pitiful father Dametas (for want of a better) played Apollo's part, and told her she should have husbands enough, she prayed donoutly they might be all kings: and thus much for the Moral.  

History.  Aegeus king of Athens, having no issue, went to the Oracle of Apolio, to know how he might do to have a sone, and receiving a doubtful answer, asked counsel of Pythe●. 〈◊〉 of Troezenes, that was in those days counted a deep wise man; who scanning the meaning of the obscure verse, which was this,  
O; time vir non ante pedem dissolueris utri  
Exsertum claras quam tu remearis Athenas. 
In English not very cleanly thus.   
Good sir take heed how ear it falls, what vessel you do broach,  
Before unto the city walls of Athens you approach.  
I say Pytheus found out such a mystery in these verses, that he persuaded him ear he parted thence, to take the pains (or I might have said the pleasure) to lie with his daughter Ethra: Aegeus having done the feat, and being belike (as many men are) sorry when he had done, took his leave to be gone; but ear he went he took Ethra aside, and showed her where he had hidden his sword and his shoes under a hollow stone of great weight, charging her that if she bore a son, so soon as he were of strength to remove that stone, she should send him with those tokens to him as privily as may be. In fine she bore that famous Theseus, who coming to Athens as a stranger, Medea then wise of Aegeus, persuaded her husband to poison him at a banquet, to which the old man assented: but while Theseus was ready to drink, Aegues saw the swors, handle, and calling it to mind, overthrew the cup and saved the life of his son: of which, who so please better to inform himself, may read more at large in the life of Theseus written by Plutarch.  

Allegory.  In that mine author brings in for the conclusion of his whole work, that Rogero immediately upon his marriage to Bradamant, killeth Rodomont: this is the Allegorical sense thereof, that Rodomont which is to be understood the unbridled heat and courage of youth (for in all Rodomonts' actions you shall find him described, ever most furious, hasty, and impatient) Rodomont I say, is killed and quite vanquished by marriage; and howsoever the unruliness of youth is excusable in diverse kinds, yet after that holy state of matrimony is entered into, all youthful wildness of all kinds, must be cast axay: which the common saying doth prove, distinquishing in ordinary speech, a bachelor from a married man, by these names, a good fellow, and an honest man.  
In Rodomonts' punishing of himself, by forswearing the use of armour, a year, a month, and a day, he alludes (I think) 
Allusion.  to one Bucycaldo a Frenchman, governor of Geneva, who being a goodly tall man of parsonage, was overthrown and vanquished by Galeazzo Gonzaga a little man of stature, but of great spirit, and for that cause he vowed never to bear arms again: but in the death of Rodomont to show himself a perfect imitator of Virgil, he endethiust as Virgil ends his Aeneads with the death of Tumus, Vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras.  
Here end the notes of the 45. and last Canto of Orlando Furioso.   

A BRIEF AND SUMMARIE ALLEGORY OF ORLANDO FURIOSO, NOT UNPLEASANT NOR UNPROFITABLE for those that have read the former Poem.  
WHen I had finished this translation of Orlando Furioso, and being almost proud in mine own conceit, that I had in these my young years, employed my idle hours to the good liking of many, & those of the better sort, I happened to read in a grave and godly book these words: 
In the Resolution, of the accounting day.  So divines do hold (for examples sake) that the glory of S. Paul is increased daily in heaven, and shallbe to the world's end, by reason of them that daily do profue by his writing, and rare exemplar life upon earth, as also on the contrary part, that the torments of Arius, Sabellius, and other wicked heretics, are continually augmented by the numbers of them, who from time to time are corrupted with their seditious and pestilent writings; If it had stayed there, it would never have troubled me, but immediately follows, The like they hold of dissolute Poets, and other loose writers, which have lost behind them lascivious, wanton, and carnal devices, as also of negligent parents, masters, teachers, etc. This saying (gentle Reader) was such a cooling card to me, and did so cut the comb of that pleasing conceit of mine, that I could not tell whether I should repent me or not of my former taken pain. For this was not a malicious taunt of a wry-looking zoilus, but a grave reprehension, and commination of a devout and divine writer; Now though the Epithetons of Dissolute and Loose, make me partly presume, that mine author is out of the foresaid danger, whose work cannot justly be deemed lascivious, wanton, nor carnal, and though I have spoken as I think sufficiendy in my Apology, to satisfy all indifferent readers, both for mine author's defence and mine own excuse, yet because I know in mine own conscience, that all the verses in this work be not so full weight, but if they shallbe tried in so severe a balance, some will be found many grains too light: I would endeavour all I might to supply that detect, with the more weighty and sober consideration of the Allegory; which, as I have partly touched in every several book, so now I intent to present to your consideration the whole body of the same, to make as it were a rehearsal Oration of it, which I have placed in the latter end, and as it were for a farewell, as men do at a great dinner, in which they have almost surfeited upon sundry sorts of meats, 
Simile of a surset.  more delicate than wholesome, yet in the end close up their stomachs with a piece of a Quince, or strengthen and help their digestion with a cup of Sack; whereas to a temperate feeder upon wholesome meats, both of them are supersfluous. Also I do the rather place it in the end of my book, because commonly, that which men read last sticks best in their memories, and so I wish this to do, being as it were the very kernel and principal part, or as the marrow, and the rest but the bone or unprofitable shell; or according (as I said in my Apology, using Tassoes comparison) like to the pill that is lapped in sugar, and given a child for a medicine, who otherwise would not be drawn to take the simple drug though it were to save his life. But to come to the matter, mine author (as you may see from the beginning) applieth his whole work, and referreth all the parts thereof to two principal heads and common places: namely, 
Armes.. L●●●.  Arms and Love: in both which, men commit great oversights, and from both which, proceed many great enormous disorders, both in public and private. For these two faults of wantonness and wilfulness, are so coupled commonly with youth, that they seem to be borne at a burden therewith, and as it were accidents inseparable; and a man might almost canonize him for a Saint, that hath passed the heat of his youth, and not offended in one of these: but many doubtless offend in them both. And this is the cause that mine author hath propounded many examples, but specially two, 
Orlando.  in the which men may see their frailty in the latter of these (which I will handle first) namely in the passion of love. As first Orlando, who with a long and tedious voyage, guardeth Angelica from the Indies; then hath her taken from him among his friends, after looseth her, and by sundry adventures pursuing her, and yet missing most narrowly of his purpose, in the end falleth stark mad for her, till by Saint john his wits are sent him again, which is as much to say, till by the grace of God and the light of the Gospel, he discovereth the darkness he walked in, and so comes again to himself.  
Secondly and principally in Rogero, 
Rogero.  whom he feigneth to have been a man of infinite value, and of courage able to overcome a thousand of our common worldly miseries, but yet overcome himself of this passion of love, without any resistance: this is the reason that he is borne away upon a horse with wings (which would not be governed) up into the air, to the country of Alcyna, 
Alcyna, the court of pleasure.  (which we may easily conceive to be the court of pleasure:) by which mine author gives us, to understand that the principal occasion of our evil proceedeth of this, when our appetite not ruled by reason, ruleth us. as Horace writeth of anger, and may be applied to any passion that striveth with reason:  
Ira furor brevis est, animum rege, quinisiparet  
Imperat, hune frenis, huno tu compesce catena.  
Wherefore this same appetite is that passionate desire of the mind that we are so often counseled to restrain. Now to this desire to this inordinate lusting, is joined idleness, as an assistant and great furtherer; as I partly noted in the fourth book out of Ovid, Otiasitollas, etc. 
Idleness, captain of all other filthy vices.  This idleness is feigned by the Poer, very gross and corpulent, drunken and drowsy, riding upon a Tortoise in token of sloth, and he (forsooth) is ringleader of a monstrous band, of which some have heads like dogs, some have necks like crane's, some are mounted upon Oxen or Asses, some have countenances and gestures of Apes, some are armed with prongs, with forks, with hooks, with broochs (all out of the Kitchen) of all which, what other meaning can be gathered but this, that idleness and sloth, and the not beraking one's self to some honest travel, causeth men to prove drunkards, gluttons, backbytets, reprochers, jesters, parasites and promoters, with other monstrous and filthy faults, though worthy to be punished, yet not worthy to be named. Wherefore the ancient fathers have not without great judgement and just cause placed sloth among the seven deadly sins, being so precise in the consideration thereof, that they have delivered their opinion thus far of it, that though simply to be idle is not a mortal sin (as they term it) yet so to be idle as to be kept thereby from some good exercise, as hearing of God's word, or helping out brother that wanted out assistance, may make it mortal. But now, because in common sense it had not been fit nor probable, that a man of a high spirit and noble courage (as his Rogero is described to be) should be daunted with such a shameful and base company as these were, therefore you see he defends himself against them most resolutely, though their assault seem terrible, and their number infinite, 
Logestilla betokens virtue.  and in despite of them he proceedeth towards the house of Logestilla (by which is meant virtue) by that craggy and painful way, and shuneth the other way to Alcyna, by means of the good warning Astolfo had given him of the danger thereof. But lo two fair young Ladies sent from Alcyna, which as I noted in the seventh book, carried a show of honourable and chaste love; these wan him without any resistance, and make him of a resolute warrior, a dissolute lover: but trow you he can come to Aleyna with the bare name of a lover? no, if he be poor, there is no place for him in dame Pleasure's court; 
Erifila.  he must spend, he must give, he must lash it out. Erifila, a covetous wretch, keeps the bridge, by which is understood that many men are stopped from this course of folly, in regard of the great charge and expense thereof, and so stay at this bridge; and though no consideration of virtue withhold them, yet fear of the charge doth terrify them. But when Erifila is once overthrown, than they are presently received into the bosom of Alcyna, than all the cheer, sporting, dancing and courting that can be imagined is applied to the welcoming of this youthful Rogero. Thus he is drowned and utterly overwhelmed in this gulf of pleasure, which mine author hath set down so lively, as it were the very picture of the Prodigal son spoken of in the Scripture, given over to all unthriftiness, all looseness of life and conversation. But because the Poet knew very well, that youth of itself hath many good gifts of nature, if the same were applied, and that many young men coming to themselves again, have become notable members of their countries, and worthy patterns of prowess and virtue; therefore he deviseth most excellently a mean whereby Rogero unwindeth himself out of the bonds of Alcyna, showing how one day being gotten from her (a thing that seldom happened unto him) Melissa recalled him again, and gave him that Ring that discovered all Alcynas' trumperies, and made here odious in his sight: so as now he cursed her in his heart, and was ashamed that ever he had set his love so basely. This is to be understood, that a man besotted in the fond pleasures of this world, entering into godly consideration with himself of his own estate, 
Consideration  heareth Melyssa, which is to be understood the divine inspiration of the grace of God, calling him from the damned course of life, to an honest and virtuous course; and by that Ring which signifieth reason, he discovereth the odious filthiness of that which seemed to him before most pleasant and amiable.  
Therefore not without very good cause doth the notable writer (I recited in the beginning of this treatise) lay down in the very first chapter of his book the danger and inconveniences that grow to men for lack of consideration, using also in another place among many his divine similitudes this one, that men are carried by inconsideration to their everlasting ruin without any striving; 
Simile.  even as Hawks are carried hooded very quietly, which if their sight were free, would never leave bating till they had broken their lines, or utterly tired themselves: but notwithstanding that the Ring of Reason maketh him discern these foul deformities of Alcyna, yet it is marvelous to see what wonderful impediments be set in his way ere he can discharge himself of his late received mistress.  
The Falconer, the horse, the hawk, the dog, that do all assail him after a strange fashion, the particular Allegory whereof, I touched in the eight book, though to say truth I needed not so curiously to have sought for such a hidden meaning in them, when as the very things themselves are so untemperatly used by many, that they keep them from virtues and more honourable actions: How many men give themselves so extremely to these hunters, hawks, hounds, and horses, that they cannot scarce afford an hour to the study of wisdom and temperance? though I do not utterly condemn the honourable use of them all, for recreation, so as a man would remember, Ne quid nimis, or as our English Proverb saith, Too much of one thing is good for nothing.  
Now when these difficulties be overcome, than yet for a great while the way is painful, the weather is hot, the Sun parcheth, Rogero rideth solitary without company or good fellowship; and by and by another temptation assails him: Three Ladies sporting themselves by the seaside would stay him; one offers him wine increasing his thirst with the sight of it, another invites him to alight, the third rails upon him for his incivility: The first of these is our concupiscence, that with a perpetual thirst still maketh us covet things hurtful for ourselves: the second is ease, that is loath to sustain too much labour, but is still persuading us to give over virtuous works, because they are painful: the third is the mockery and lewd use of the world, as I have also noted in his place, to ●eft at such as live austerely and virtuously, as though it were a toké of a base mind, whereas indeed, it is the only noble disposition that may be, to follow virtue, and to despise pleasure.  
These three women though Rogero fled away, yet they followed him, which signifieth, that our own imperfections evermore follow us, neither can we be rid of them, and it sufficeth not to overcome them once, but that we must wage continual battle with them. Now against this perpetual misery we are strengthened by discipline, & made able to withstand them, which is signified by the wise and grave Pilot, that transports Rogero by sea, from Alcyna to Logestilla; and in sooth it may well be called a sea, in which every wave is ready to overwhelm us, and every storm able utterly to discourage us, if we had not a good Pilot both safely to guide us, and cheerfully to encourage us, by telling us what entertainment we shall find, if we come once into her harbour.  

40  
There is the food that fills and never cloyeth, 
In the tenth book.   
There is the love, the beauty and the grace,  
That maketh him most blest that them enjoyeth,  
To which compared all other joys are base:  
There hope nor fear, nor care the mind annoyeth,  
Respect of persons, nor regard of place,  
The mind still finding perfect contentation,  
Resting itself in virtuous contemplation.   

41  
There are (saith he) some better lessons taught,  
There dance, dallying, and dainty diet,  
There shall you learn to frame your mind and thought,  
From will to wit, to temperance from ryet:  
This is the path by which you may be brought  
Into the perfect paradise of quiet:  
This tale the Pilot to Rogero told,  
And all the while their course they forward hold.   
This encouragement and comfort was somewhat, but by and by they discovered a great navy sent from Alcyna, which undoubtedly had surprised them, had not Logestilla (which drawn from the Greek, is to say wisdom) sent a whole army in their aid: which signifieth writings, exhortations, instructions, examples, and precepts, that have power in them, both to confound Alcyna, and to recover all that had been won by force, in former times from Logestilla.  
The four virtuous Ladies that are sent to guard Rogero, as appeareth by their names and by their Epithetons given them by mine author, are the four cardinal virtues, justice, prudence, temperance, and fortitude. Which though it be well described in the foresaid x. book, yet in my fancy, that in the last book, where he praiseth a Cardinal's virtues, I mean Hippolito, where also he adds a fifth unto them, and makes them five, it doth much better:  

77  
Then on another part was to be viewed,  
His virtues, each one by themselves distinct,  
Prudence, and temperance, and fortitude,  
And justice, and a fifth so nearly linked  
To these, that who with it is not endued,  
The rest may seem blotted, or quite extinct,  
Bounty employed in giving and in spending,  
A special grace to all the other lending.   
These be the Captains of that Army Royal, that can overcome legions, nay millions of vices: and sure if you will not allow the last of them for a principal leader, yet you must at least, make him treasurer and paymaster, or else it is great doubt that for lack of pay, you will be driven to Cassyre your bands. But to proceed, perhaps it will seem strange to some, as it did to myself at the first reading, how it comes to pass that Logestilla and Alcyna are sisters, the one legitimate, the other a bastard; and that the bastard hath usurped upon the others state, and hath scarce left her above one strong hold. The exposition is this.  
The nature of man (by which is understood our appetite or affection,) which ought to be subject to reason, and to be governed thereby, this nature (I say) was at the first a lawful child of God, and was by the spirit of God framed to his own likeness, there to govern and rule by reason and wisdom, so that afore nature was corrupted, all the parts of our mind were in a perfect accord and harmony, under the government of reason, or rather every one setting forward itself to virtuous actions: but when this first perfection was lost, and that same great rebellion was made, to the overthrow of that quiet and settled state, the heart became so weak, as it was not able to endure the continual assaults of the passions that assailed it, and in the end was content to take part with them, against the reasonable part of the mind. And now every part of the body engenders such seeds of concupiscence, that nature is become a bastard sister to reason, and usurps that government that is due only to her, and leaveth her only one castle, which was so strongly situated that it was impregnable: so that now reason is retired as it were to her principal fortress, to the head, the rest of this kingdom being possessed (by Alcyna) by pleasure and fond delights. Now then, what marvel is it, if this new Hercules, described by mine author, do with so great difficulty, and through so many impediments, clammer up to this stately seat of Logestilla, built with such rare workmanship, and of such pure stuff, that a man may in the walls thereof, see even into his very soul and conscience:  

In these men see the virtue, and the vice,  
That clea●eth to their inward soul and mind,  
Who looks in such a glass may grow so wise,  
As neither flattering praises shall him blind,  
With tickling words, nor undeserued blame,  
With forged faults, shall work him any shame.   
As for those gildings and paintings, that were in the Palace of Alcyna, though the show of it were glorious, the substance of it was dross, and nothing but Alchemy, and cozenage: but these of Logestilla, be precious stones indeed, of inestimable value: The looking glass and mirror, that will show us how our soul and our mind is spotted; oh he that would use such a glass, what a notable Antidoton it would be against the poison of flattery?  
You fair Ladies, that spend so many hours in looking and prying in a glass to see if this shadow sit handsomely, if your rebatoes be well set, if your wires stand even upon your heads, and the pendent just in the middle of your foreheads, and in the least of these matters you will not believe your maids eyes, but you will see it yourselves, why are you so credulous to believe liars and flatterers, that tell you your chastities and other womanly virtues be extolled and praised, and will not look in that true glass, to see if you deserve it or no?  
It is true, that men are no fit judges of themselves, because commonly they are partial in their own cause, yet is it as true, that he that will dispose him to judge indifferently of himself, can do it better than any body else, because a man can see further into his own mind and heart, than any one else can. But now, to come to this fair house of Logestilla, to which I would so fain invite you all, both Lords and Ladies, that read this discourse, here be sweet gardens, here be wholesome herbs, here is the continual spring: Here that unbridled horse, that bore away Rogero so far out of Europe, is taught to obey the rod and the rain, and made serviceable and at commandment. Further, by the help of the ring (as was touched before) many that had been transformed into brute beasts, were restored to their shape again: these were such as were so drowned in vice, and in beastly pleasures, that no part of the reasonable man was left in them. Astolfo was restored to his shape, that had been turned into a myrtle, (now the myrtle was said ever to have been Venus' tree;) and because he was so entangled in Venery, that he could not get himself out of it, therefore he is feigned to have taken root in the ground as the tree doth, and so was fastened, that without Melyssas' assistance he could not have stirred from thence. Thus, as you see mine Author under a pretty fiction, hath brought you to behold the whole misery of the life of man, and there in the beginning of the seventh book, he exhorteth men to consider the meaning of his tale, 
Wherefore to some my tale may seem a fable.  
Whose wits to understand it, are not able.   
But now because there are divers kinds of errors, in this labyrinth of love, and as divers means by which men offen, as there are divers sorts of men that offend; therefore you may perceive how my author hath filled the whole book with sundry examples both of men and women: as beside Orlando of whom I spoke before, whose madness gave the name to his work, calling it Orlando Furioso, there is Sacrepant, that follows Angelica from the Indies, and is still foded out by her with fair words: There is Renaldo, that is extremely in love with her, till the water of disdain drove away, and cooled the heat of his affection; and the whole book is full of examples of men and women, that in this matter of love, have been notable in one kind or other, of which I will touch some special ones, and omit the rest, as not so much worth the standing upon.  
The ordinary kinds of love are set down to us of the good and the bad in two couples: Angelica and Doralice of the worse kind, and Olympia and Bradamant of the the better sort. In Angelica, the excellentness of her beauty bred such an exceeding pride, that disdaining the greatest and worthiest Princes that lived in that age, she cast herself away at last upon a poor serving-man, for a just recompense of her too haughty conceit. In Doralyce, is set down a pattern of great lightness of manners and behaviour, that first loving Rodomont, and being forcibly taken by Mandricard, yet in one night was so well pacified toward him, that she was content to tarry with him, and in the end refused Rodomont openly for him, (though in so doing one might make a reasonable excuse for her:) but after when Mandricard was slain, she could have found in her heart to have loved Rogero also. In Olympia contrary, we see an honest chaste love, though very hardly required, yet hath it in my opinion some reproof, namely that it was too sudden and violent. But in the worthy Bradamant is a perfect pattern of true honourable love to Rogero, moved first by his value, by his courage, by his behaviour, by his worth, which made him worthy of her love. In her you shall find no rashness, no want of constancy, of faith, of all other due regards: for neither could her sundry overthwart chances neither the expectation and length of time, (which is wont to breed alterations,) nor the obstinate covetousness of her father, nor the vain ambition of her mother, nor the state and Empire of Leon, with all the promised riches and treasures his Father and he possessed, once withdraw her mind from her first love. Further, Bradamant did not rashly fall in love, as did Olympia, but the Prophetess Melyssa, and tokens from above, did encourage her to her honest love, for showing her of her noble posterity, and of all those blessings that accompany the same: so as indeed, in her only we have a pattern of honest and commendable love before marriage.  
Now there are in like manner two pair of married women, one worthy all reproach, the tother meriting all praise. The shameless Orygilla and her filchie Martano, are a pattern of base and filthy love, grounded upon ribaldry, and continued with all fraudulent practices that may be; in which also the fond affection, and doting fancy of Griffino is to be pitied, that could not see her treachery till with notable shame and scorn, he felt the fruits of it.  
Another pattern of lewdness in all kinds, is the tragical life of the abhorninable Gabryna, that for her filthy lust, broke all the laws of hospitality and humanity: First tempting Fylandro most impudently, then accusing him most falsely, lastly circumventing him most subtly, and making him with a most rare cruelty to kill her husband, and marry herself; and finally when she grew weary of him, she found the means to poison both him and the Physician, and not resting there, spent all her life after in working all kind of treason and mischief, even to her last gasp, which she fetched on the gallows. Such Gabrynas and Medea's as this perhaps there are in the world, that to effect their devilish purposes, will not stick to practise any kind of treachery and poisoning, yea and take a pride and felicity when they can overthrow noble houses, set great men together by the ears, cause bloodshed, and ruin, and hurlyburlie in Cities and common wealths, and cause brothers to cut off one another's head: whereupon that old verse may seem to have been made upon some ground: 
Non audet Stigius Pluto tentare, quod audet  
Presbyter, effrenis planaque, fraudis axus.   
But now in recompense of these two passing lewd women, we have two excellent virtuous women: Fiordeliege married to Brandimart, and Isabella espoused to Zerbino. Which, I think mine author hath devised to have great adversities, and to have lost their husband's most unfortunately, to the end to lay before all chaste and virtuous matrons an example, how the troubles that happen to their husbands, must be a mean to set forth their praise the more. And indeed, to attribute to them the highest point of glory in this kind that may be, you see how he maketh them lose their husbands even in the prime of their own years: Zerbyno slain in France, and Brandimart in Barbary, and both of them naming their wives at their last hour, to show how dearly they loved them; which causeth them to break into such piteous lamentations, as would move not only a tender hearted Lady, but even a valiant hearted man, to shed tears with compassion. Further, the deaths of both these Ladies, in sundry kinds are most admirable: Fiordeliege builds her a little room in the sepulchre of her husband, and there becomes an Anchorite: Isabella falling into the hand of the barbarous Rodomont, and having no way to save her chastity from his violence, devised a mean to redeem it with the price of her life: Oh worthy Isabella, that deservest to be painted in Tables, and set forth in clothes of Arres, for an example to all young Ladies of constant chastity.  
But now to go forward, we have to consider likewise of the enchanted Palace, in which as it were in an infinite labyrinth, so many brave young men of great valour, lose themselves in seeking their loves, and when they would depart thence, they hear themselves called back, and think they see their faces; but when they come, thinking to find them, they vanish out of their sights, and turn to shadows. This enchantment is likewise referred to love, that painteth forth in our fancy, the Image of the party loved, representing to us the sweet speech, the seemly behaviour, the gracious looks of our Idol that we worship: but neither can we find it when we seek for it, neither doth the heart take any repose, still labouring to attain to the end which more do miss then hit, and yet when they do attain to it, for the most part they grow as weary, as before they grew fond. We may say that Dido was in this labyrinth, when as Virgil describeth her: 
At Regina gravi iamdudum saucia cura,  
Vulnus alit vaenis, & caeco carpitur igni,  
Multa viri virtus animo, multusque recurrat,  
Gentis honos: haerent insixi peclore vultus,  
Verbaque; nec placidam membris dat cura quietem.   
Wherefore this passion may well be called That tickling wound, that flattering cruel foe, as it is in the first book. And no marvel if Rogero once again, having lost his ring of reason, he drawn into this enchanted Palace. Only Astolfo (taught by a book Logestilla gave him, to take away a fantastical Image, or some such witchcraft as lay under the threshold) dissolved the enchantment. But whereas it is said that Atlanta did build it, thereby to keep Rogero in an idle life, therein he toucheth the fond tenderness of divers parents over their children, who bringing them up in wantonness, ease and pride, make them the more apt to fall into this enchanting labyrinth. Many more examples are alleged by mine author: as that pretty Comical tale of Ariodant and Genewra: the fantastical tale of Norandino and Lucyna, that were leapt in goats skins: the death of Marganorres two sons: the tale of the Mantuan knight that had the married men's cup. All which have good Moralities, and may be fitly applied to this common place of love.  
Now the other common place is of arms, 
Of arms.  which indeed is more pertinent to matters of state (as other is to private life and manners,) and in this mine author hath carried his invention very daintily, and well worth the marking. For he propoundeth to us the example of two mighty Emperors, one of which directeth all his counsels by wisdom, learning, and Religion; But the other being rash, and unexperienced, ruined himself and his counttrie: and in this story though much of it be feigned, yet are set down the very ordinary causes, and the usual sequels of all such garboils and troubles. It is almost an usual matter to read of young Princes, that being left in peace and prosperity, and having so much wealth they know not what to do withal, strait follow their youthful humour of revenging some (I know not what) old injuries, and be put in hope by such hare-brayne counsellors as Rodomont and his fellows, of great conquests and in the end overthrow indeed great armies, not of their enemies, but of their own, as, the Oracle mocked Croesus: 
Croesus Halim penetrans magnam perveriet opum vim.   
So did Hannibal in Italy (though indeed he prevailed a great while) led thereto by a dream, as some write. Now in these matters of wars, the chief fault commonly is, in those Counsellors that put a sword into a madman's hand, by putting such conceits into Princes heads. Yet we see Agramant hath his grave Sobrino, that advised him at the first, not to invade other men's countries, but to keep his own; that adviseth him to prevent mischief in time, and to sue for peace: that adviseth him to put the matter to a combat of one man, and the party overcome to pay yearly tribute: and finally, that not only with faithful counsel, but with valiant service, sticketh to him to the last; but Agramants own rashness and folly overthrows all the good that could be done him. Further these youthful counsellors, on whom Agramant did so much rely, did not only hurt him by their fond persuasions to his ill succeeding wars, but also in the midst of the heat thereof, when their service should have stood him in most steed, annoyed him, and in a manner quite confounded him with their continual jarring and squaring among themselves about matters of small or no importance: So that, as Agamemnon, was wont to wish for ten Nestor's, and could have been content to have spared Achilles: so Agramant had just cause to have wished for ten Sobrinos', and to have spared Rodomount, and the other great champions. And by the way it is to be noted, how Poeticallie mine author sendeth Discord among them, and where she was found, as you might read in the fourteenth book. Now to Agramant is on the other side opposed Charles, a grave and well stayed Prince, wise and valiant, not partial in doing justice, bountiful in rewarding services, and which is all in all, devout without hypocrisy, and putting indeed his affiance in God, and consequently in his extremities is aided by God; and in the end obtaining a most happy victory, driving both his enemies out of his country, and gaining from them a great part of theirs. Further my author hath set down divers forms (as I may call it) of valiant men, though not all in a sort to be imitated, but some rather greatly to be reproved; Mandricard is described to be exceeding full of courage, and withal very quarrelsome, and yet with good success: He takes Doralyce from her guard, he fights with Orlando, with Rodomont, with Marsisa, and still he holds his own, But this good fortune is a cause to fools of their overthrow; for (as our English Proverb saith) So oft goes the pitcher to the water, at last it comes broke home. Mandricard would needs quarrel with Rogero about their cognisance, and by him is slain after all his bravery. This is written for a warning to such as are of Mandricardos' disposition, to take heed of Mandricardos' end.  
Likewise in Rodomont there was exceeding strength of body, as well as courage of mind, but the same was governed with no deliberation; which caused him to attempt, and to give over things attempted very suddenly, which finally turned to be hurtful to himself as well as to others.  
On the other side, Renaldo was a frank natured man, valiant & courteous, Ferraw stout, but too full of cracking, and thereby procuring himself enmities: Orlando full of clemency as well as courage: Zerbino a pattern of a most noble & thankful nature, and though not fortunate, yet most famous in despite of fortune.  
Rogero, the very Idea and perfect example of a true knight, that will by no means break his faith and his honour, that seeks no advantage of the enchanted shield, that to be grateful to Don Leon Augustus, would lose both love and life. and finally, that in defence of his honour killeth Rodomont.  
Further, as I have often noted in the several books, it is a very pleasing thing to see the due punishment of the wicked doers, and the procurers of evil, as besides those I have noted, you may see that none scapeth of the xxxij. kings that came out of Africa, but Rogero and Sobrino, the one a persuader to peace, the other, a just warrior, and true of his word.  
Beside, in Astolfo is a praise of learning, who with his sounding horn, by which is meant eloquence, and with his book (betokening wisdom) both the gifts of Logestilla, becometh a tamer of monsters, as well as a conqueror of men, and accomplisheth greater matters alone, than all the rest do with their force and arms.  
Further, in the praise of learning, and to move Princes to favour learning, he shows how only the pen of the learned is that that preserves the good fame of Princes, as for the common foolish Pamphlet-writers he condemneth them, likening them to Vultures, carrion Crows, and chattering Pies, that are not able to save their friends names from the lake of oblivion, because their writings are not durable. Thus much I thought good to note of the general Allegory of the whole work, to give you occasion to ruminate, as it were, and better to digest that, which you before in reading, did perhaps swallow down whole without chewing. Now me think it is even high time to take away, and bid much good do it you, or at lest no harm do it you, or if you think it will for all this, the best physic I can prescribe you, is to take a leaf or two of S. Matthewes Gospel, or of S. Paul's Epistles, and it shall restore you to your perfect health.   

THE LIFE OF ARIOSTO BRIEFLY AND COMPENDIOUSLY GATHERED OUT OF SUNDRY ITALIAN writers, by JOHN HARINGTON.  

Who are worthy to have their lives written.  THose that performed any notable work in their lives, either for the profit of their country, or for the advancement of learning, or in any other thing that hath made them worth the talking of after their deceasses, have for the most part both been recorded in the Histories of their times, and also had their names eternised by special Treatises written of their lives; by which the ensuing ages might know their country, their parentage, their time of birth, their education, their disposition, their actions, and their end: Whether it be that men are willing to prosecute their deserts with a thankful remémbrance after their deaths, as it were for a kind of recompense of their travel in this life, whether for the encouragement of those that live, to make them by virtue hunt after fame. Neither only have men of good deserts been praised for their virtues, but also the wicked have been blazed for their faults, that those whom desire of fame cannot allure to well doing, yet fear of shame and ignominy, may terrify from lewd actions. In both which kinds, diverse have employed their pens, both in former ages and now of late, to the great good and delight of the studious reader. 
Plutarkslives. The xij. Caesar's. The x. Emperors. The mirror of Magistrates.  Witness plutarch's lives called his Parallels, comparing the notable men of Rome and Greece: Suetonius book of the twelve Caesar's: another's after him of ten Emperors (excellently written in Italian): And of our own country and in our own language, the Mirror of Magistrates, in which the life and fall of many great persons is very well set down, and in a good verse. Now (as I say) this being a common custom, and as it were a due reward to men of good desert, no marvel if this Poet, whose work hath been acceptable to so many thousands, have also found this favour to have his life written, which hath been done by three Italians that I have read, namely Gierolam, Porro of Padua, Gierolamo Garofala of Ferrara, and by Simon Fornari of Rheggio: out of whose three reports I have gathered this compendious treatise, to satisfy such as are desirous to know who this Ariosto was, whom I have so greatly extolled in my Apology, as a benefactor of all studious minds, and on whose work I have employed so much time, to put it into English verse, and to bestow so many notes as I have done upon the expounding of his Allegories, and whatsoever else I judged fit for the readers of weaker capacities.  
First therefore you must know, 
Ariosto his parentage.  that the house or name of the Ariosti came first out of Bologna, (not as some have vainly surmised derived of the Aristij or Ariovisti) for yet their name is remaining in Bologna in good account and reckoning, and was long since of that reputation for gentry and wealth, that Margues Obyso the third of the house of Este, thought it no disparagement to him to marry a wife out of that stock, called Lippa Ariosta. This Lady was of excellent beauty and wit, and bringing with her unto Ferrara some of the Ariosti of her kin and followers, by her favour and countenance, they so well feathered their nests in Ferrara in her life, that they held ever since the account of Gentlemen of the better sort: But (admit their family were of good reckoning before) yet the excellency of this famous man we now treat of, by the consent of all that write of it, 
His father.  hath greatly increased the account and credit thereof. His father's name was Nicholas Ariosto, and both his father and uncles bare offices in their country of good value, his mother's name was Aria of the house of Malagutsie in Reggio, 
His mother.  as appeareth in one of his satires where he nameth her. Now though this Lodowick Ariosto were his father's eldest son, yet he had four brothers and five sisters, the names of his brothers himself set down in his second Satire, Charles, Alexander, Galasso, and Gabriel, where also he complaineth that Mercury was no great friend to his house, 
His brothers  meaning that their wealth was but small, because none of them had used to increase it by traffic or merchandise. Now though his father were a man of good reckoning, as having been in his youth a companion of Duke Borso, and after that an officer to Duke Hercules, in a good place, namely his Maiordomo, which I take to signify as much as great master or steward of his house, and often employed as Ambassador from him to the Pope, and to the king of France, and consequently received of him great preferments, as well in dignities, as revenues and fees, yet it seemeth that he lived ever so at the uttermost of his ability, that he pursed up little to the increase of his stock, and thereby left his heir no very rich man. 
His towardness in his childhood.  But to speak of the son of whom I chiefly intent my discourse, certain it is that from his very childhood, he showed great tokens of forwardness in all study, but specially in Poetry, in so much that his father yet living, he translated the tale of Pyramus and Thisbee into verse, making in a manner a Comedy of it, and so caused his brothers and sisters to play it. Howbeit his father being utterly unlearned, and rather regarding what study would be most profitable to be followed by his son, than what his nature and inclination did best serve him to, compelled him to study the civil law, in which having plodded some years very displeasantly, and with no great proof, at last he left it utterly, and fell to more sweet studies; for the barbarousness of the phrase agreed not with the sharpness of his conceit, in so much that he writeth of himself (though rather pehaps of his modesty, then that it was so) 
Passar, vent' anni mi trovaua, e vopo  
Haver di Pedagogo, ch'a fatica  
Inteso haurei quel che tradusse Esopo.  That is to say, that being twenty year old, he had need of a schoolamaster to construe Esopes fables; though I see not how that could be, considering that being very young, they say he made and openly pronounced an Oration in Latin, that gave even then great hope of him: the best likelihood is, that when his father set him to the Law, which he had no mind unto, that then he lost his Latin again, which is soon done, and so was glad to fall to it freshly, after he came to man's estate, which he did very studiously, reading many books, and especially Horace, whom he studied so thoroughly, that he was able to expound divers hard and obscure places in his Odes, which were then not understood, and it is observed, that when Leo the tenth was Pope, both his holiness and divers great Prelates in Rome favoured him greatly, even in that respect. Thus as I said, his natural inclination carrying him chiefly to Poetry, he gave himself to read those Poets that were of best account, both in Latin and Italian, as his work well shows, in his oft and excellent imitations of them, and his gift was such, that though his youngest brother Gabriel wrote reasonable well, and by means of a lameness he had, gave himself wholly to study, yet he came so far short of him, that there was no comparison: so that as one said of Tully, Satis est non modo in una familia, sed in una civitate esse unum Rhetorem; it is enough to have one good Orator not only in a family, but even in a whole City: So one may say of Ariosto, it is enough that all Italy had one so excellent a Poet. Yet he was often wont to lament as before him Petrarke, and before them both Ovid is noted to have done, that his father still drove him from Poetry, as that verse witnesseth, 
Abi lasso, quando hebbi all Pegaseo melo  
L'eta disposta, e che le fresche guancie,  
Non si videan auchorfiorir, d'vnpelo  
Mio padre mi caccio con spiedi e lancie  
Non che con sprom, a volger testi e chiose.  
Em'occupo cing anni in quelle ciancie.  But to proceed, when he had prettily entered himself in Poetry, and was of the age of four and twenty, his father departed his life, and as I in part noted before, left him no rich man, whether that the inheritance was divided among all the brothers, as in some places of England and Wales, the custom of the Gavell kind alloweth, or that his living stood most upon offices and fees that died with him: but thus they write, that he was then greatly perplexed with the charge of so great a family, and with bestowing his sisters, and providing for his brothers, that he was even ready to have given over all his study, had not the emulation that he had with a Gentleman of his own name and kin, called Pandolfo Ariosto, still renewed in him his former disposition: but in process of time this Pandolfo died, with which his friend and cousin were greatly discouraged, and for a time again discontinued, but yet so as the world before that time had some conceit of his sharpness of wit, and of his gift in well writing: In the end being toward thirty years old, he was for his good parts entertained into the service of Don Hippolito Cardinal of Este, 
His service of Cardinal Hippolito.  a great favourer of learning and good wits, and one that kept continually in his court great store of excellent learned men, among whom Ariosto was received in very honourable sort: and yet to this time he had not written any work of fame, but some few Sonnets: forbearing belike to write till he were well stuffed with matter; as wise builders begin not their buildings till they have brought their Lime and stone and timber in place, left one should stay for the other. At his very entrance into this Cardinal's service, he determined, as it should seem, to make some Poem, finding his strength to serve him to it, and though he could have accomplished it very well in Latin, yet he chose rather his native tongue, either because he thought he could not attain to the highest place of praise, 
Why he wrote not in Latin  the same being before occupied by diverse, and specially Virgil and Ovid, or because he found it best agreed with his matter and with the time, or because he had a desire (as most men have) to enrich their own language with such writings as may make it in more account with other nations: but the first of these was the true cause indeed, for when Bembo would have dissuaded him from writing Italian, alleging that he should win more praise by writing Latin, his answer was, that he had rather be one of the principal and chief Tuscan writers, then scarce the second or third among the Latins: adding, that he found his humour (his Genius he called it) best inclining to it. Wherefore going forward with that resolution, of all the Poems that were then in that kind in manner of history (they were called Romanzi, which in French signifieth brief notes of occurrents) he chose Boyardo, 
So did Virgil by Homer for the same cause  upon whose work he would ground, both because he said Boyardos' work was fresh in every man's mind, as also because he would shun the bringing in of new names, and of new matter, which he thought would be nothing so pleasant unto his countrymen, as that of which they had some taste already, and yet withal a desire to know further of being by Boyardo left unperfect. Thus (as I said) he began this work of his entitled Orlando Furioso, being about the age of thirty years, and being entered into the service of Cardinal Hippolito, howbeit he did not so wholly give himself either to reading, for the enriching of his own wit, or to writing, for the pleasure and profit of others, that he withdrew himself from such honourable services as he was called to. 
His employments.  For when Pope julio the second had intended to make war upon the Duke of Ferrara (whose brother Cardinal Hippolito was) master Lodowick Ariosto was chosen as a most fit man to go of embassage to him, 
His embassage  to pacify his wrath; the which business he managed so well, that he won great reputation of wisdom and discretion at his returning: Howbeit, it was not long after his return, but that the forenamed Pope, being indeed a man of an unquiet spirit, and given all to the wars, levied a great power against the Duke, and shipped many of his soldiers, to send them over Poe the great river that runs by Ferrara, these were met by the forces of the Duke upon the water, and in that service Ariosto himself demeaned himself very valiantly, 
His service by sea.  and took one of the best ships and best stored with victual and munition in all the fleet. But these armies being dissolved, the Duke thought good once again to send to pacify that same over terrible Prelate; and every man shunning the office, knowing the furious nature of julio, Ariosto again for the service and safety of his country, 
His second embassage.  adventured to go, indeed an exceeding adventure, for neither were the ways safe in time of wars to go so weakly guarded; neither was that Pope's displeasure supportable where he placed the same; yet through both these dangers he waded, and presented himself to the Pope; but finding by some privy intelligence, that the place was too hot for him, 
His danger to have been put to death.  he got home again with great peril to have marred all his fine invention, with the loss of that head from whence it came. For this service notwithstanding he was greatly both praised and favoured. Now when things after by the good success of the Duke, grew to more quiet, than he also betook him to his quiet studies, & consequently did proceed in his excellent Poem: But suddenly, when he had made so much thereof, as gave great hope to all men, that it would prove an excellent piece of work, he happened to fall into the Cardinal's displeasure, by means that he refused to go with him into Hungary, 
His troubles.  which though the said Cardinal took very displeasantly; yet knowing the value of the man, and his worth, he would not disgrace him openly, though he wanted no enemies to feed and further that ill conceit in him; which master Lodowick finding, was so greatly discouraged, that he intermitted his writing many years: and to mend the matter, one taking occasion of this eclipse of the Cardinal's favour, put him in suit for a piece of land of his ancient inheritance, which was not only a great vexation to his mind, but a charge to his purse, and travel to his body; for undoubtedly, the clattering of armour, the noise of great ordinance, the sound of trumpet and drum, the neighing of horses do not so much trouble the sweet Muses, as doth the brabbling of Lawyers, the paltering of Attorneys, and the civil war or rather most uncivil disagreeing of forsworn jurors. Thus was good master Lodowick interrupted of his course of writing fourteen whole years, even to the death of the Cardinal; after which time he had, or rather he took to himself more liberty or leisure to follow his own humour and private study, and in process of time finished to great perfection that, which he had begun with great expectation. 
His savour & credit with dis●●so.  Yet did the Duke Alfonso allure him by all means he could to his court, using him like a companion rather than like a servant, and offering him great offices and preferments if he could have made him serve him in ordinary; but he loving his liberty more than any preferment, refused both his and other great offers of great Princes and Cardinals, as also of Pope Leo the tenth, a great favourer of learning and good wits, of all whom notwithstanding he received many graces, and some good gifts; but for country's sake, and of his grateful nature he was ever relying of the Duke of Ferrara; and finding that the Duke did delight in his writings, and specially in fine Comedies, 
His Comedies he made.  he made five: La Casseria, I suppositi, la Lena, el Nigromante, la Scholastica: but of this last he made but three acts, and it was finished by his brother Gabriel. These Comedies the Duke did so highly esteem, that he built a very sumptuous stage in a fair large hall at Ferrara, of purpose for a place to have them played and represented in his court: and he used other great tokens of favour to him, but specially (which is indeed the only true token of favour in a Prince) he gave him great rewards, enabling him thereby to build a convenient house in Ferrara, with a delicate garden to it, in which he used often to sit and walk, and make verses, and writing divers other both witty and pleasant discourses, or translations out of French or Spanish, 
His felicity in translating out of Spanish & other tongs  with such felicity and good grace in the Italian, that his doings were in great account with all the Princes of Italy, and they sent him many gifts for copies of them: but office of charge he was exceeding loath to take, saying, that he would not sell his liberty for the best Hat in Rome, meaning a Cardinal's Hat; further he would confess of himself that he was variable in his desires, and in his disposition, and therefore would be tie to nothing. 
His reperance in diet.  For his diet he was very temperate, and a great enemy of excess and surfeiting, and so careless of delicates, as though he had had no perseverance in the taste of meats, in so much as one day a friend of his in sport, caused a Muskite to be set before him in steed of a Partridge, but by mistaking of the servingman that set it on the board, another Gentleman happened to taste it, and so the jest was discovered, and he writeth of himself in one place, 
Io non ho troppo gusto de vivande,  
Che Scalco sia, fui degno esser almondo  
Quando vivean gli huomiuni di grand.  That is to say, that his taste was not delicate, and that he was fit to have lived in the world when they fed on Acorns: howbeit, for women I cannot so much praise his temperance, for he is noted to have had dishonest company with one Alexandra, 
His marriage doubtful.  though some say he was married to her privily, and durst not be acknown of it for fear to lose some spiritual livings that he had, which were not lawful to be held by a married man, 
His sons bastards.  but howsoever it was, his two sons were counted but base borne, though both of them prospered reasonable well in the world, their names were Virginio and Gian Battista, Virginio became a spiritual man, and his father surrendered some of his livings unto him, the other became Captain of a band of the Dukes, and a man of good account with the Duke. Also there was a Lady called Genewra a fair and modest Lady, whom he made great profession of love unto, but whether he enjoyed her or no, it is not known, and therefore we may imagine the best: he fell in love with one (whether that were this Genewra or no, I know not,) in Florence in the house of Vestucci, a kinswoman of his, finding her one day dressing of a core like an armour for one of her sons, against he should go into the great show that they have there on midsummer eeve (as they were wont to have here in London,) whereupon he made that comparison in the 54. stanse of the xxiv. book of Orlando Furioso, of the wound that the noble Zerbino Pince of Scotland, had received of Mandricardo: 
The Prince so eager was he felt no smart,  
Yet ran the blond out of his breast amain,  
And of his armour all the former part,  
With crimson stream of blood it did distain:  
So have I seen her hand, that to mine hart  
Hath been a cause of anguish great and pain,  
When she a purple seam or flower hath drawn,  
In silver kirtle, or in sleeve of lawn.  Also his pretty fantastical beginning of the five and thirtieth Canto in the first and second staff, with the first and second and third of the sixteenth Canto, do prove that he was subject to that passion of love, but withal, that his love was placed upon women of good worth and of great modesty. Now though I dare not excuse him in this so great a fault, yet partly in respect he was unmarried, partly because these white devils have such a tempting power upon the earth, me thinks I should easily obtain a pardon for him, of all you that read this short discourse of his life. 
Another piece of service in Grassignana.  But omitting this one peccadilio, in all his other proceedings he was very modest, and just, and affable, and very grave and discreet, as he well approved, when after the death of Leo the tenth, he was (though half against his will) employed by the Duke, as a Lieutenant or high shreeve, in the country called Grassignana, being then full of factions and divisions, which he so orderdly governed, and so well quieted, that he left them all in good peace and concord, leaving among them a very good report of his wisdom and equity, and winning not only the love of the better sort, but also a wonderful reverence of the wilder sort of people, and a great awe even in robbers and thieves: as appeared one day by a chance that happened to him in the time of that forenamed office. For as he road one day with five or six horses, in one of the most licentious and disorderly parts of the country, 
Love of the people of all sorts.  he was to pass near Rhodea by a company of armed men that lay dispersed in the shade, and by means of the dissension and falling out of two men of some reckoning in that country, called Domenico Morotto, and Philippo Paechione, there were daily divers riots and outrages committed thereabout upon the passengers by such kind of men, so as he road by them not without some doubt to have been assaulted: but being past them about a stones cast, the chief of the company demanded of his man that road hindermost, what his master's name was, he told him Master Lodomke Ariosto, whereupon strait the party armed as he was, ran after him; Ariosto stayed his horse seeing him come after him, doubting in his mind to what purpose he came, but when he came nearer, he craved pardon of him, that he had not done his duty unto him in his going by, showing him how he was Philippo Pacchione, desiring his acquaintance, and offering to be at his commandment with all humility and courtesy.  
Not long after this, having occasion about some matter of his office, to have some conference with one of the principal Gentlemen of Lucca, and appointing the same Gentleman to meet him at a town called San Pellegrino: at his coming thither, he found not only the said Gentleman there ready to attend him, but also divers others: with Ladies and gentlewomen that came of purpose to see him, drawn by the sound of his learning and wit, where they feasted him and entertained him very nobly, every one striving who could do him most countesie. Immediately after this commission of his was expired, he was earnestly dealt with to have been Ambassador to Pope Clement, but he would by no means accept it. At his coming home giving himself still to writing, the Duke entreated him to translate the Menecmie of Plautus into Italian, 
Menecmi of Plantus.  which he did with so fit phrases of speech, and so agreeable to the Italian tongue, that it was not counted among the least of his praises: and as for all the others Comedies of his making, they were of such estimation, that they were often represented upon the stage, and for the most part by Gentlemen, in so much that Don Francisco of Este, that was after Marquis of Massa, the first time that the Lena was played, to grace it the more, rehearsed the Prologue thereof himself in public.  
One of his Comedies called Casseria, he began in the life time of his father (though he intermitted it many years after) and one pretty accident they have noted about it, which shows his notable gift that he had to apply to imitation in his Poetry, all that might with good judgement be used in it. 
A pretty chase.  It fortuned his father one day grew into some choler with him, and rebuked him very sharply, and with a long speech and many words, for some matter that he laid to his charge, imputing to him very great blame for it, and all the while he made him no answer, but gave him full scope and liberty to take his pleasure with him: soon after his brother Gabriel, when his father had turned his back, began to reason with him upon the same subject, and to lay to his charge the same arguments; but he easily resuted him, and with very good and sound reasons rustified his doing. Why then? (quoth his brother) what meant you, you did not satisfy my father at the first, as you might easily have done with so reasonable an answer? In troth (said Lodowick Ariosto to tell you true, I was thinking of Erofilos part in my Comedy I have begun of Casseria, and me thought my father's speech to me, was so fit to be assigned to that part of an old man chiding his son, that I forgot while I was thinking to make such a part in sport, that I heard such a part played in earnest. 
An early riser.  In making his Furioso, he would rise sometime at one or two of the clock in the morning, when he lay at his friends houses, as well as when he was at home, and then he would cause an old servant of his one john de Pescia to bring him pen and ink, and so would write many verses when he found himself well disposed to it, and then he had a great pleasure to read them to his friends, both Gentlemen and fair Ladies, among whom by the pleasantness of his wit and his good grace, he was ever well accepted. 
A good copanion upon the way.  The Duke of Ferrara took him for so good a companion, that when he road any journey, he would desire to have him with him, and atidle times he took great pleasure to have him read to him, as well other books as his own, he had so good a grace in reading, and so sweet a pronunciation), and yet not delighting to hear himself (a fault that many other have been noted of) but always giving a spirit to that which he read, whether it were his own writing or other men's, and as he himself could pronounce very well, 
His good pronunciation.  so was it a great penance to him to hear other pronounce ill, that which himself had written excellent well. In so much as they tell of him, how coming one day by a Potter's shop that had many earthen vessels ready made to sell on his stall, 
A pretty tale how he used a Potter.  the Potter fortuned at that time to sing some staff or other out of Orlando Furioso, I think that, where Renaldo requesteth his horse to carry for him, in the first book, the 32. staff: 
Ferma Baiardo mio: Deh ferma il pied  
Che l'esser senza te troppo minuoce.  Or some such grave matter fit for a Potter, but he plotted the verses out so ill-favouredly (as might well beseem his dusty occupation) that Ariosto being, or at least making semblance to be in a great rage withal, with a little walking stick he had in his hand, broke divers of the pots; the poor Potter put quite beside his song, and almost beside himself, to see his market half marred before it was a quarter done, in a pitiful sour manner, between railing and whining, asked what he meant to wrong a poor man that had never done him injury in all his life: yes, Varlet, quoth Ariosto, I am yet scarce even with thee for the wrong thou hast done me here afore my face, for I have broken but half a dozen base pots of thine, that are not worth so many half pence; but thou hast broken and mangled a fine stanze of mine worth a mark of gold.  
He built (as I partly touched before) a pretty couvenient house, 
His manner of building.  and being demanded why he did not build it in more stately manner, considering what sumptuous palaces, what stately porches, what goodly fountains he described in his Furioso: he answered, that words were cheaper laid together then stones. Upon the front of his door he wrote a verse, that few of the builders of this latter age can truly write, or at least if they could, I would say their houses were strongly built indeed, for more than the third heir: 
Parna, sed apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non  
Sordida, parta meo sedtamen are domus.  That is to say: 
This house is small, b●t sit for me, but hurtful unto none,  
But yet not sluttish, as you see, yet paid for with mine own.   
One fault in his building was, he would often set up and pull down many parts thereof, and he would say of himself, that he used his house as he did his verses, mend them so much, that he marred them quite. For indeed, as a tree planted in an orchard, if it be once or twice well picked and pruned, it doth further the growing of it, but if a man be ever sidling about it, it will lose the natural beauty, and hardly keep life: so is it with one of his stanzes or staves, as we call them, at the first conceiving of it, one may mend that which he shall suddenly set down, but if one will still be turning and wresting of it, he may make it lose the grace it had at the first. But what fault soever himself did find with his own Verses, certain it is that to all the great Princes of Italy they were most acceptable, as witnesseth the divers great and honourable gifts they gave him, as namely a pension of twenty pound by the year in Milan with an office to it given him by Hyppolyto, many suits granted him by the Duke of Ferrara, with great rewards from Pope Leo the tenth, from Cardinal Farnese, from Cardinal Bybiena, and chiefly from marquess Vasto, and divers other meaner stars that for breavities sake are omitted. And because now I would also draw to an end, I will a little run over that the hath been said, with somewhat that hath been forgotten, and so conclude, beginning from his birth. 
He was borne 1474.  He was borne the year 1474, in the Castle of Rheggio, his father being then governor of the Castle, it stands in Lombardie; he was tall of person, of complexion melancholy, given much to study and musing, and would therewith sometime forget himself, he was of colour like an Olive, somewhat townie in his face, but fair skinned otherwise, his hair was black, but he quickly grew bold, his forehead was large, his eyebrows thin, his eye a little hollow but very full of life and very black, his nose was lar ge and hooked, as they say the Kings of Persia were, his teeth passing even and white, his cheeks but lean, his beard very thin, his neck well proportioned, his shoulders square and well made, but somewhat stopping, as almost all that look much on books in their youth are inclined to be, his hand somewhat dry, and a little bow-legged. His counterfeit was taken by Tytiano that excellent drawer so well to the life, that a man would think yet it were alive; he was honoured with the Laurel by the hands of the renowned Emperor Charles the fist, in the year 1532, which was a year before he died. Now for his disposition as we have partly touched before, he was of nature assable, not proud, taking less upon him than others did yield unto him, yet putting up no known injury not of his betters; somewhat amorous in his youth, very secret, passing studious, by nature fearful upon the water, and therefore when he went out of a ship at any time he would see others go before him, using that saying, De puppo neunssimus exi: though for mine own part I see no great reason for it. Further, he was not very venturous on horseback, for they say he would light at every place of danger, though others road over it. He loved not to go much abroad out of his own country, in so much as he writes in one of his satires, 
Che vuol Andare a torn, a torn vada  
Vegga Ingleterra, Vngheria, Francia e Spagna,  
Am piace habitar lamia contrada  
Vista ho Thosana, Lombardia Romagna  
Quell monte i divide, e quel che serra  
Italia, e un mare e l'altro che la bagna  
Questo mi basta, il resto della terra  
Senza mai pagar l'hoste, andro cercando  
Con tolomeo, sia il mondo in pace e in guerra.  To this effect in English: 
Who list to ride about, about may ●ide,  

His writings do show he had great skill in Cosmography.  See England, Vughery, and France and Spain;  
I love in mine own country still to bide,  
In viewing which, I sure have taune some pain.  
Thoscan, Romagna Lombardie, beside  
The hills that Italy close, and divide,  
Sufficeth me, the rest of all the main  
With Tolomey to search and every cost,  
In peace or war, and never pay mine host.   
For his works, I have touched them before; as for the five Cantos that follow Furioso, I am partly of opinion they were not his, both because me think they differ in sweetness of slile from the other, and beside it is not likely that a man of his judgement, having made so absolute a piece of work as his Furioso is, and having brought every matter to a good and well pleasing conclusion, would as it were mar all again, and sent them all by the ears, and bring Rogero into the Whale's belly, and Astolfo with him for company, that a little before were conquerors of the world, and vumatchable for courage and learning: but to proceed to his end, he lived till he was 59 years old, and toward his latter end he grew sickly, and by much Physic marred his stomach, his sickness grew first as they write by means of ill digestion, he being a gross feeder, and not chewing his meat well, so that in the end it weakened him very much. That very night that he sickened and took his bed, there happened a great mischance, that was (in the opinion of most men) a presage of his death. The goodly Hall that Alfonso had beautified with the most sumptuous Stage that had been seen in Ferrara, (purposely for Ariostes Comedies) was fired by mischance, and consumed a great part of the Duke's palace beside. Now if fire (as one Artimedorus writeth) betokeneth same and greatness, than this unfortunate fire fortuning at such a time as it did, may yet serve as a mean to ennoble the more this famous man's death: and as Comets are said to foreshow the death of Princes, so this terrible fire lasting so many days as it did, might be thought to foretell his death, chiefly since it consumed that work that was built for his great same and honour. He took his sickness not only patiently but even cheerfully, affirming that he was willing to die, and so much the rather because he heard that the greatest Divines were of opinion, that after this life we should k now one another, affirming to his friends that were by, that many his friends were departed, whom he had a very great desire to visit, and that every hour seemed to him a year till he might see them. In fine, he died in Ferrara the eight of july, 1533, and though he were worthy of all honour, yet this was all the honour he had done at that time, that the Monks of S. Benet buried him in their Church (and contrary to their custom, which is never to go to burials) went with him to his burial, and that there was scarce a man that could write, but did honour him with an Epitaph, his bones were after taken up by one Sygnor Augustino, and laid in a very faite tomb, with his statue from the girdle upward, in the forenamed Church of S. Benet. And now to close up this whole discourse of his life, with the greatest praise, he was a most charitable and honest man, as appeared both by his great care he had of his aged mother (whom also he speaks of often in his Satyrs and other writings (saying in one place.  
L'eta di cara madre, mi percuote, De pieta il cuore.  
And also by this example that is recited of him, of an aged Priest that having three or four fat benefices, was in great doubt to be poisoned for greediness of them, by some that had the next Aduowsons', and in respect of the great honesty of M. Lodowick Ariosto, he chose him before all his own kin or friends with whom he would sojourn, as himself boasteth, and indeed it was a good boost, 
Mane di voi ne de pui giunti a lui  
D'amicitia fidar unqua sivolle  
Io di fuor cutti scielto vinco fui.   
To conclude, his learning, his good behaviour, his honesty, made him both beloved of all good men in his life, and bewailed of all honest men in his death, so as me think reading over his life, I could find in my heart to wish (saving for some very few things) Sie mihi countingat vivere fisq, mori.   

AN EXACT AND NECESSARY TABLE IN ORDER OF ALPHABET, WHEREIN YOU MAY READILY FIND THE NAMES of the principal persons treated in this work, with the chief matters that concern them.  

A  
ACteon. pag. 85. a notable hunter and a cuckold, and for that cause seyned to have had horns for the latter of the two properties, and to have been devoured with his own dogs for the former, because he was beggared and consumed by them.  
Aglaure. 307. daughter of Erictheus king of Athens, she is said to have been turned to a stone, and her fault was this, because she presumed to looked upon Ericthonius, that was committed to her custody by Pallas with charge not to presume to open the basket he was kept in.  
Agramant Emperor of the Turks, son of Trai. more, alias king of Africa, alias the Southern king. He came into France to avenge his father's death. pag. 1. He besiegeth Parish very straightly. 61, musters his men. 103. assaulteth Paris. 110. continueth his assault. 113.122. is repulsed and besieged in his tents. 142. is rescued. 217. is troubled with the contention of his Princes, and labours to compound them. ibid. is discomfited by Renaldo. 254. slieth to Arly. 255. hears of the siege of Biserta. 320. his Oration to Marsilio, Sobrino and the other Princes. ibidem. his challenge on Rogeros' head. 322. takes an oath of truce. 323. breaks the truce 326. discomfited by land. 331. flies to sea. ibidem. his men mutinous ibidem. discomfited at sea by Dudon. 332. flies, and would kill himself. 336. meets Gradasso 337. sends a challenge to Orlando, three to three. 337. his stout answers to Brandimart. 345. sights and is disarmed by Brandimart. 348. is slain by Orlando. 352.  
Agricane king of Tartane and father to Mandricard pag. 7.  
Albracca a town in the East Indies pag. 7.  
Alcyna a famous witch or Fairy. She took Astolso, and transformed him to a myrtle. pag. 44. entertains Rogero. 50. the description of her beauty. ib. the description of her deformity. 53. she pursues Roger by land. 58. by sea. 59 she is discomfited by Logestilla. ibid.  
Aldiger bastard son of Bono entertaineth Rogero the 35. book. staff. 63. hurt by Mandricard. pag. 210.  
Almonio a Scot, servant to Zerbium, saved in the tempest with Isabella. 96. goes to Rochel. 97. finds Zerbino 194. brings Odericke prisoner. ibidem. executes him and Gabrina, book 24. staff. 36.  
Alzird, a gallant young man king of Tremisen killed by Orlando. 93.  
Amalthea was jupiter's nurse. By Amalthea's horn is signified plenty.  
Amazons, look tales. 153.  
Amazons a nation of warlike women, so named of ●, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is to say, without paps, or of ● and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, without bread, because they feed on flesh only.  
Angelica called also the Indian Queen, daughter of Galafron, came from India with Orlando and is taken from him by the Emperor Charles. pag. 2. given to the Duke of Bavier to keep, and scapeth out of his tent. ib. meets with Renaldo and runs from him. ibidem she meets Sacrepant and goes with him. pag. 5. helps him to take Bayardo. pag. 6. meets Renaldo again. pag. 7. leaves Renaldo and Sacrepant, and meets with an Hermit pag. 10. flies from him and is pursued by him. pag. 59 her horse possessed with a spirit, carries her into the sea, and after to land. ibidem. her lamentation. ibidem. she is cast into a sleep by the Hermit, but yet he is not able to win her maidenhead. pag. 60. She is carried to the I'll of Ebuda. 61. tied naked at the shore. ibid. is found by Rogero and delivered. 79. vanisheth from him by help of the ring. 82. her beauty. 83. she comes to atlant enchanted Palace, and by the ring would disclose herself only to Sacrepant. 90. she is seen & followed by Orlando and Ferraw. 91. vanisheth from them ibid. takes away Orlando's helmet. 92. she is sorry because Ferraw got it. ibidem. she finds Medore wounded. 147. heals him. woes him, weds him. 148. gives her host the bracelet Orlando had given her. ibidem. meets with Orlando in his madness. 238. 'scapes from him and goes to the Indies and gives her whole state to Medore. 242.  
Anglant the place of Orlando's Earldom.  
Anselmus Earl of Maganza father of Pinabelle buries his son. 179. condemns Zerbino wrongfully. 180.  
Anselmus, a Doct. of law look tales. p. 364. staff. 67.  
Antheus, a giant of great strength and statute, son of Neptune and the earth, look in the history of the 23. book.  
Aquilant brother to Griffino sons of Marquis Olivero: the elder fights with Orillo. 117. goes to jerusalem 11●● meets with Martano. 139. beats him, brings him and Origille to Damalco. 140. goes towards France 142. is in a tempest. ibidem. came to the country of the Amazons. 149. Icapeth thence. 157. taken prisoner by Pinabell. 172. goes with Renaldo to rescue Charles. 252. is at Bradamants marriage 402.  
Arachme, an excellent women in needle work, and weaving, and is sayned to have compared with Pallas in that kind, and therefore to be turned to a spider.  
Ardenna a huge forest or thicket in France, where he feigneth the two fountains of love and disdain pag. 7.  
Arethusa daughter of Nereus and Doris, one of Diana's companions till Alphcus ravished her, and gather with child, whereupon Diana turned her into a river bearing her name.  
Argalia son of Galafron brother to Angelica slain by Ferraw, his ghost appears to him. pag. 3.  
Argia wife of Polinyse, her husband being killed, & the tyrant Creon forbidding one pain of death to bury him, yet she buried him and lived ever after a widow. 307.  
Argia look tales. 164.  
Ariodant a Gentleman of Italy a lover of Genewra 33 fight with Lurcanio, and is parted. 38. is known to the king of Scots 41. is married to Genewra. 42. reskues Zer●ino in France. 125. and is no more spoken of by the author.  
Arria wife of Peto of Pardon, her husband and being condemned killed herself in his fight, protecting that death was pleas●nt to her so long as she left him alive 307.  
Artimesia wife of Mansoleus, she built that famous sepulchre for her husband, that was counted one of the wonders of the world, in honour of which all sumptuous tombs since are called Mausolea.  
Astolfo king of Lombardie. look tales 225.  
Astolfo called the English Duke, son of Oton king of England turned into a mittle. 43. warns Rogero of Alcina. ibid. comes to Logestilla. 58. goes from Logestilla. 114. receives a book of her and a borne. ibidem. takes Calligorant. 116. overcomes Orillo. 118. goes to Damascus. 140 meets Martisa. 141. takes her part. ibid. goes toward France. 142. is in a tempest. ibidem. comes to the Amazons country. 149. with his horn seareth the Amazons. 157 turns to England. 169. dislolues the enchanted Palace. 170. gets the Griffith horse. 171. meets Bradamant. 177. leaves his horse Rabican, his armour and the enchanted spear with her. 178. goes about the world. 274. comes to Senapo. 275. drives away the Harpias. 281. hears the woful tale of Lydia, ibid. stops up the mouth of the cave. 284. washeses himself at a well. ibidem. goes up to Paradise. 285. confers with S. john ibid. receives by his means Orlando wit. 287. sees the river of Lethe. 292. comes from S. john 319 heals Senapo. ibid. takes the wind in a bag ibid. turns stones to horses. ibid. goes to Biserra 328. redeems Dudon. ibid. makes ships of leaves. ib. releases divers Christian prisoners. ibidem. restores Orlando to his wit. 326. takes Biserta ibid. lends home Senapo. 376. leaves Africa. 327. le's go the Griffith horse ibid. comes to France ibid. is at Bradamants marriage. 402.  
Astraea daughter of Astreus a just king, and therefore she was called justice. 114.  
Atlant uncle to Rogero. a great Magician makes a Palace by enchantment. 12. fights with Gradasso and Rogero, overcomes them and carries them prisoners into the said Castle. 13. fights with Bradamant and is overcome by her. 26. overthrows his enchanted Castle, and lets free Rogero, with the rest of his prisoners. 17. makes another enchanted Palace for Rogero. 90. dies, and his ghost parteth Rogero and Marsisa. 302.  
Aurora is seyned by the Poets to have leve Tythonus, son of Laomedon, and to have married him: but he growing old she fell in love with Shafalus.   

B  
Baliisard Rogeros sword that had been sometime Orlando & stolen by Brunello, given to Rogero, was found by Orlando in the ship 344 restored to Rogero. 376.  
Bardino finds Brandimart. 329. pestwardes him to go home. 330. bewails his death 370.  
Bayardo Renaldoes horse ran from his master twice. pag. 2. and 3. is found by Sacrepant. pag. 6. recovered. pag. 10. is found by Gradasso pag 274 recovered again by Renaldo.  
Bertolage one of the house of Maganza slain by Richardet. 207.  
Bireno taken prisoner by Cimosco. 71. delivered by Orlando. ibid. married to Olympia. ibid. falls in love with the king of Frislands daughter, and betrayeth Olympia. 74 is hanged by Oberto. 86.  
Biserra a town in Barbary assaulted by Orlando, and Astolfo. 335. is taken. 336 is sacked. 338.  
Boreas the Northern wind. is sayned to have ravished Orithia and to have begotten of her Calas and Zet.  
Bradamant meets with Sacrepant and overthrows him. pag. 6. betrayed by Pinnabell. pag. 14. meeteth Melissa in Merlin's cave. pag. 18. is showed all her posterity. 19.20. instructed how to take the ring from Brunello. 21. meets Brunello. ibidem. sends Rogero the ring. 52. meets Melissa again. 99 is instructed of her female posterity. 100 is warned of the enchantment, yet cannot avoid it. 101. is freed by Astolfo 170 meets Pinabell. 173. kills him. 174. meets Astolfo, and of him hath Rabycano and goldelaunce. ibid. goes to Montalbano. 178 sends Frontino to Rogero by Hippalca. 179. she receives Rogeros' letter 247 her complaint. ibidem. jealous of Marfisa. 259. another complaint. ibid. and 261. her despair. ibidem. she meets with Vllanie the Queen of Islands messenger. 262. she wins a lodging at Sir Tristrams Castle. ibidem. she makes a stout Oration for Vllanie. 265. she overthrows three kings again. 272. she meets Fiordeliege. 292. overtl. rows Rodomount. 393. sends a challenge to Rogero. 294. overthrows divers knights. 295. fights with Marfisa 299. angry with Rogero and makes another complaint. 300 pacified. 301. again fights with Marsisa, but is reconciled 303 assaults Marganor. 312. delivereth him to Villan●e to be put to death. 313. goes to the camp. ib. enters into the battle. 327. chaleth Agramant. 331. complaints to Marsisa of Rogero. 353. resuseth Leon. 378. her complaint. ibid. sues to Charles, and obtaynes to have a Proclamation for the combat with whomsoever would marry her. 308. writes to Rogero to comfort him 379. her complaint of his absence. 386. the fights with Rogero taking him for Leon. 389. another complaint. 391. she is married to Rogero 402.  
Brandimart son of Monodant, king of Damagyre, husband to Fiordeliege, goes out of Parish to seek his friend Orlando. 63. is in atlant Palace. 90. set free by Astolfo. 170. meets Fiordeliege, and goeth with her to Rodomonts' bridge. 254. is taken prisoner by Rodomount. 255. released by Astolfo. 328. found again by Fiordeliege. 329. sees Orlando mad and helps to take him. 330. assaults Lyserta and is the first that enters it. 335. is one of the three in the challenge. 338. hath Frontino given him. ibidem. his Oration to Agramant. 345. he fights with Agramant and disarms him. 348. he is deadly wounded by Gralasso. 349. his speech at his death. 352. his stately funeral, at which Orlando makes a funeral Oration 370. his tomb built by his wife. 371.  
Bransard Lieutenant to Agramant in Barbary, sends aewes of the danger Africa was in. 320. redeemeth Bucifer with Dudon. 379. kills himself. 336.  
Briareus a Giant said to have an 100 arms: Virgil sayns him to be in hell for his conspiracy against jupiter. Et centrum geminus Briareus & bellualernae it is derived of the Greek, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they call a strong man.  
Brigliadore, as much to say, Bridle of gold, the name of Orlando's horse. 87. cast off by Orlando in his madness. 184. found by Mandricardo. 200. given by Rogero (who had slain Mandricard) to Agramant. 247. won by Orlando. 352.  
Brunello is met by Bradamant. described by Melissa to her 21. is Bradamants guide to atlant Castle. 25 is bound by her unto a tree, and hath the enchanted ring taken from him. 26 musters his men before Agramant, and was unbound by Isolir. 104. is arrested by Marfisa and carried away by her 220. is brought back by Marsisa at ten days end to Agramant, and there delivered to a base villain to be hanged. 258.  
Brutus' his wife was Porcia: this Brutus was the stout Roman that killed Caesar for his tyranny, married the daughter of Cato Vucensis, the hearing of her husband's death eat hot coals and killed herself to, whereupon Martial faith.  
Coningus asslissi satum cum Porcia Bruti,  
& substracta sibi quareret arma dolour,  
Nundum seit is ait mortem non posse negari?  
crediderum saus hoe vos docuisse patrem,  
Divis & ardentes avido bibit ore savillas,  
Imune & serrum turba molestanega.  
Bulgar a people of Europe in part of Maesia upon the river Danubrum, where it is called Ister, assaulted by Leon. 380 put to flight. 381. rescued by Rogero. ibid. they make Rogero king 382. send Ambassadors to France to Rogero. 397.  
Bulligant governs those of lion. 104. Ptolemy calls that City Germanica.  
Bucifer king of Algazer taken. 327. redeems Dudon. 328. slain by Olmero. 336.   

C  
Calai and Zet were sons of Boreas, and had wings or so feigned, because they sailed in swift ships.  
Calligorant a Giant taken by Astolfo. 116. is carried about the country by him. 117. comes where Crillo was. ibid. and from thence goeth with Astolfo to jerusalem. 118. Astolfo giveth him to Sansonet governor of jerusalem. 119.  
Castor and Pollex sons of jupiter and Leda, gotten of her in likeness of a swan, brothers to Helena, called Tyndarides, they delivered the sea of Pirates, and therefore are counted Gods of the sea. They fain that Pollux was immortal, and when Castor died besought jupiter that he might part his immortality with him, whereupon they are an example of brotherly love.  
Catalynes the chiefest family of Spain, of the house of Arragon, and are often put by mine author for the whole state of Spain. 104.  
Ceres' called the Goddess of come, mother of Proserpina.  
Charlemagne son of Pipin gathers his forces together against the Turks. pag. 1. takes up the quarrel about Angelica. pag. 2. is overthrown by the Turks. ib. Charles besieged in Paris sends Renaldo into England pag. 11. He expectes the assault and maketh public prayers unto God. 107 his own prayer. ibidem. receives the English succours into Parish. 125. hears news of the spoils Rodomont did. 126. his Oration. 128. 129. he sets on Rodomont. ibidem drives him away out of Paris. 138. is discomfited again by Ferraw, and made retire. ibid. is rescued by Renaldo. 254. Christened Marfisa. 318. takes an oath of truce 323. welcomes Rogero into France 376. makes a Proclamation at request of Bradamant. 385 his uprightness in judging the controversies. 392. he makes a sumptuous feast at the marriage of Bradamant. 398.  
Cimosco king of Freezeland slain by Orlando. 70.  
Circe a notable inchantresle, daughter of the Sun and a Nymph called Perses, she turned Ulysses' men into beasts.  
Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, being feasted by Anthony bade him to a banquet, and dissolving one huge pearl in vinegar she drank it, and it was thought in that respect a banquet of in estimable cost.  
Clyte●●stra wife of Agamemnon played the whore in his absence, and killed him at his retuine it is said the had a Musician played chaste tunes to her, and so long the continued honest, but when he died Aegistus corrupted her: her son Orestes in revenge of his father's death slew her.  
Cloridan a companion of Medore goes to seek the carcase of Dardanello. 143. kills divers Christians. ibid. kills two Scots. 146. is killed 146.  
Corebo one of Zerbins' men hurt in defence of Isabella 97. is saved. 194.   

D  
Dalinda Genewras maid saved from killing by Renaldo. 29 discovers Polynessos treachery. 32 is pardoned and goes to a Nunnery. 42.  
Danae daughter of Acrisius, mother to Perseus, she being locked up in a tower by her father, that none might accompany her, it is said that jupiter rained a shower of gold through the tiles of the house into her lap, with help of which shower he gather with child.  
Danubius' the greatest river of Europe far North begins in Germany, and in long running it is called Istar 60 rivers fall into it, and hate of them navigable.  
Dardanello son of Almont musters afore Agramant. 105. hurteth Lurcanio. 138. is killed by Renaldo. 142. foud dead by Medore. 143. is buried by him and the help of Angelica. 147.  
Dido Queen of Carthage famous for the fabulous love of Aeneas.  
Discord sought by the Angel Michael. 108. found in an Abbey. ibid. sent to the Pagans camp ibidem. beaten and sent again. 217.  
Doralice coming from Spain is taken by Mandricard. 106. sends privily to Rodomont. ibidem. agrees well with Mandricard. 107. parts Zerbino and Mandricard. 193. parts Rodomont and Mandricard. Lib. 24. staff 92. borne away by a spirit in her horse. 213. rejects Rodomont, chooseth Mandricard. 221. her speech to dissuade him from fight 243. her lightness. 246.  
Drusillaes, look tales of Marganor. 308.  
Dudon released by Astolfos means and made Admiral 328. discomfireth Agramant by sea. 32. fights with Rogero on land 339. giveth him seven kings. 342. comes into Paris 376. is at Bradamants marriage. 402.  
Durindane Orlando's sword taken by Mandricard. 24. book. 49. staff. won for Gradasso. 246. lost by Gradasso in battle with Orlando. 352. given to Rogero by Orlando. 375.   

E  
Ebuda, I find no such Isle, but Ebude bells in our British sea.  
Encelladus the greatest of all the Giants that rebelled against jupiter, for this cause they feign that he was laid under mount Aetua, and that the cause of the earthquaks there, is when he stirs to change sides.  
Erichtonius son of Vulcan had feet like a Serpent and devised a coach to hide them. 307.  
Euadne wife of Capaneus killed with lightnight at the assault of Thebes, his body being burned as the manner of burial was in those days, his wife leapt into the fire with it and dies. 307.   

F  
Ferraw a Spanish knight fights with Renaldo for Angelica. pag. 2. lost his helmet in the water. ibidem. takes Renaldo up behind him. 3. meets with the ghost of Argalia. ibidem. vows to win Orlando's helmet. ibid. is in atlant Palace. 90. freed by Angelica. 91. fights with Orlando. 92. pursues Angelica and sees her. ibidem. gets Orlando's helmet. ibid. musters his band of the king of Spain's guard. 104. restores the battle lost. 138. his Oration. ibid. overthrown by Bradamant. 295.  
Fiordeliege wife of Brandimart goeth to seek him. 63 hears of Orlando's madness Lib. 24. staff. 46. sees the battle between Mandricard and Zerbin, goeth toward Paris. ibid. staff 59 comes to Rodomonts' bridge. 227. tells Renaldo of Orlando's madness. 253. finds Brandimart. 254. sees him overthrown and taken. ib. meets Bradamant, and shows her Rodomonts' bridge. 293. delivers Rogero a challenge from Bradamant. 294. meets Bardino and goeth with him to Africa. 329. finds Brandimart. ibid. sees Orlando and deseries him. ibidem. she makes a black Caparison for Brandimart. 344. her dream and speech. 370. her death. 371.  
Fiametta, look tales.  
Fiordespina, look tales.  
Frontino the name of Roger's horse is kept by Bradamant. 28. sent by her to Rogero. 178. is taken by Rodomont. 179. recovered by Bradamant. 293. sent again to Rogero. 294 found by Orlando in a ship. 344. restored to Rogero. 375. his praise. 389.  
Fusberta Renaldoes sword. 10.   

G  
Gabrina, look tales: the flies from Orlando. 99 meets Marfisa. 158. is committed to Zerbinos' protection. 159. robs Pinnabels corpse. 179. betrays and accuses Zerbino. 180. flies and is misused by Mandricard. 182. is pardoned of life by Zerbino. 194 committed to Ordickes' protection and by him hanged. Lib. 24. staff 38.  
Ganymede is feigned by the Poets to be jupiter's cupbearer, and to have been carried up by an Eagle, it is taken generally in the worst part for Bardassos'.  
Genewra, look tales.  
Gibbellius, look Guelves.  
Gradasso king of Serycane taken by Atlant into the enchanted Castle. 13. is delivered by Bradamant. 27. is in atlant Palace. 90. freed by Astolfo. 170. come to aid Agramant 216 helps to arm Mandricard. 218. falls out with him. ibid. receives Durindane of Rogero. 246. fights with Renaldo. 255 fights again. 273 parted and finds Bayardo. 274. ships at Arlie. 274. meets Agramant in great distress. 337. is one of the challenge three to three and kills Brandimart. 349. is killed by Orlando. 352.  
Grandonio, the governor of the Algarbies, which dwell in promontory called Celticum Promontorium. 104.  
Griffin fights with Orillo. 117. is in love with Origilla. 118. goeth with Astolfo to the holy land. ibid. hears of Origilla. 119. he finds her. 121. goeth to Damascus. 129. hears his hosts tales. 130. wins the prize there. 133. departs thence. ibid. is betrayed by Origill and Martano. ibidem. is carted. 134. kills and beats the people of Damascus. 137. is reconciled to Norandino. 139. meets his brother Aquilant. 140. receives a costly armour of the king. ibidem. is overthrown by Astolfo. 141. friended by him, he goeth with him and others towards France. ib. tossed on the sea with a tempest. 142. comes to the shore of the Amazons & hears their law. 149. scapeth thence 158. is betrayed and taken by Pinnabello to observe his law. 172. fights in defence thereof. 173. is overthrown by Rogero. 174. goeth toward France. ibid. meets with Renaldo and is entertained into his band. 252. is at Bradamants marriage. 402.  
Griffith horse brought up by Atlant, and lost by him 26. flies away with Rogero. 27. carries him to Alcinas' Isle 43. carries Melissa and Astolfo from Alcinas' Isle. 58. brings them to Logestilla. 77. is brought by Melissa to Rogeros riding. ibidem. Rogero is carried by him over the world ibidem. breaks his bridle and flies to Atlant. 83. is gotten by Astolfo. 171. flies with Astolfo over the world. 274 carries him up to Paradise. 285. brings him back again. 319. is let loose by Astolfo. 376.  
Guelves and Gibbellius two notable factions rising first of two brothers in Italy and spreading very far.  
Guidon Savage in the Amazons land fights with Marfisa. 150, entertains her and her company. 153. tells the tale of the Amazons. 154. scapeth thence having made provision. 157. overthrows Richardetto, Alardo and Guicchiardo. 25 1. fights with Renaldo till Sunneset. ibid. makes himself known unto Renaldo. 252. goeth with him to aid Charles. ibidem is at Bradamants marriage. 402.   

H  
Hecuba wife of Priamus fell mad for sorrow of the death of her son Polidorus, and is feigned to have been turned to a dog.  
Helena daughter of Leda, she that was taken by Paris.  
Hercules' son of jupiter and Al●mene, his twelve labours be known, howbeit Stephen in his Hiostrical Dictionary lets down 34. labours.  
Hillarion a passing devout Hermit.  
Hippalca, Bradamants maid carries Frontino towards Rogero. 179. meets Rodomont and is robbed ibidem. meets Rogero at Merlin's cave. 209. returns to Bradamant. 211. delivers Rogeros letter, and comforts her. 246.  
Homer Prince of Greek Poets.   

I  
jason son of Aeson and Alemene coming to Lemnos was entertained by Hipsipile, and after wan the Golden Fleece.  
Indus or Ind a river of the East, a very huge river of which India taketh name.  
Iroldo a Christian Captain.  
Isabella found by Orlando in a cave. 94 recites to him the cause of her being there. 96. is delivered by Orlando 98. prays him to be her Protector. 99 finds Zerbino. 180. departs with Zerbino from Orlando. 182. helps to gather Orlando's armour. Lib. 24.st. 43. entreateth Doralice to part the fray. ibid. staff. 57 laments Zerbinos death and becomes a Christian. ibidem. staff 73. meets Rodomont. 231. is wooed by him. 235. laves her chastity with loss of her life. 236. her praise. ibid. her tomb. ibid.   

L  
Lada one of Alexander's soldiers, so swift and light of foot that scarce the print of his foot was seen in the sand. 270.  
La●demia wife to Protesilaus loved him so dearly, that hearing of his death, she pined away with grief. 307.  
Leon son of Constantine repulsed by Rogero. 381. delivers Rogero not knowing him from prison. 387. goeth into France to woo Bradamant, and wins her by Rogeros means calling himself the knight of the Vincorne. 389. disturbed and challenged by Marfisa. 391. misleth Rogero. 392 finds him and recomforts him 396. brings him to Charles 398. his speech. ibidem. frees the Bulgars from further war by promise ibid. is at Rogeros' marriage. 402.  
Lydia look tales. 281.  
Logestilla defendeth Rogero against Alcina. 76. the description of her house, by which is meant virtue. 77. entertains Astolfo, and delivers him a book and a horn and lets him depart. 114.  
Lucina look tales. 129.  
Lurcanio brother to Ariodant an Italian Gentleman accuseth Genewra. 36. fights with his brother. 38. is hurt by Dardanello. 138.   

M  
Malagige rescued by Rogero and others. 207. expounds the pictures at Merlin's well. 208. makes a spirit carry away Doralice. 213. goeth with Renaldo to aid Charles. 247. coniureth to find the cause of Renaldoes disease. 353. is at the wedding 402.  
Mandricard son of Agricane king of Tartary had won Hector's arms. 105. he seeks Orlando. ibid. wins Doralice, carries her away & woos her. 106. lies with her. 107. fights with Orlando. 181. parted. 182. meets Gabrina. ibidem. fights with Zerbino and hurts him. lib. 24. staff 49 wins Durindane. ibid. fights with Rodomont. ibid. staff 80. is parted staff 93. overthrows Richardetto and his brothers. 210. fights with Marfisa. ibidem. quarrels with Rogero. 211. reproved by Rodomont. ibid. fights with Rogero. 212. fights with Marfisa. ibidem. parted. 213. reskues Agramant 216 quarrels with Rodomont, Rogero and Marfisa. 217. with Gradasso. 218. is chosen by Doralice. 221. dissuaded from fight by Doralice. 243. fights with Rogero. 244. is killed. 240.  
Manilard overthrown by Orlando. 93.  
Marsilio king of Spain musters his men of arms. 104. his Cration to Agramant 320. he flies into Spain. 327.  
Marfisa sister to Rogero meets Astolfo and goeth to Damascus. 140. takes away the prize. ibid. is reconciled and honoured. 141. goeth with Astolfo and others toward France, and are tossed with tempest. 142. arrives with them at the Amazons City. 149. fights with Guidon. 150 scapeth hence 157. part from her companions in Marsilia. 158. meets Gabrina and carries her behind her. ibid. overthrows Pinnabell for laughing at her. 159. meets Zerbino & commits Gabrina to his custody. 159. meets Rogero. 206. aids him to rescue Malagige and Vivian. 207. dines at Merlin's cave. 208. fights with Mandricard. 210. aids Agramant. 215. craves battle with Mandricard. 217. arresteth Brunelio. 220. brings him back to Agramant. 258. fights with Bradamant & is overthrown 299. fights again. 300. fights with Rogero. 302. parted by atlant ghost. ibidem. friends with Bradamant. 303. goeth with Bradamant and Rogero 30●. aids Villainy and her companions. 308. hears the tale of Marganor. 309. leads Marganor captive. 312. calls a Parliament and makes a law for women. 313. goeth with Bradamant to Charles. 317. meets Charles and makes an Oration. 318. she is Christened 319. fights with Agramant. 327. chaseth him. 331. disturbeth Don Leon from marrying with Bradamant. 397. makes a challenge to Leon on Rogeros' behalf. 392. was about to strike Rogero not knowing him. 398. is at the wedding 402.  
Marganor look tales. 309. his law 311. he is killed. 313.  
Martano a whoremaster keeps Origilla. 122. shames himself. 133 betrays Griffin. ibid. incenseth Norandino against him. 134. beaten by Aquilant. 139. punished openly. 140.  
Mausoleo the tomb of a king so named, one of the seven wonders.  
Medea a cruel woman, a notable witch, she killed her own brother, and her own sons, she sent Creusa a little box for a token, in which was closed such artificial fire, that as soon as it was opened it burned her and all the Palace she was in.  
Medore page of Dardanell goeth to seek his master's carcase to bury it. 143. kills many Christians asleep, ibid. carries his masters corpse and is pursued by Scots. 144. hurt by a Scot against Zerbinos will 147. found by Angelica and healed, wooed, and married by Angelica. 147. his Epigram 148. escapes Orlando hardly. 239. made king of East India. 242.  
Melyssa showeth Bradamant all Rogeros posterity 19 20. instructeth her how to take the ring from Brunello. 21. goeth to deliver Rogero. 52. her speech to Rogero. 53. comforts Bradamant. 322. in Rodomonts' likeness breaks the truce. 326. meeteth Leon and shows him Rogero. 395. bringeth the rich Pavilion by Necromancy. 399. is at Bradamants marriage 402.  
Memphis the chief City of Egypt near to which the huge Pyramids were made.  
Merlin's Fountain. 208. his hall in Sir Tristrams lodge and the stories thereof. 258. the English Prophet, of him you shall read in the notes of the third book. pag 22.  
Morgana a passing witch much spoken of in Boyardos' book of Orlando Inamorato.   

N  
Nercus son of Caropeius and Aglaia a passing beautiful young man, witness Homer one of those that came against Troy. 269.  
Nestor is said to have lived three ages, which some count. 90. years, some 300.  
Nilus' the famous river of Egypt so called of king Nilus, or as some will have it of the Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is new slime, for with the slime thereof it enricheth all Egypt: some doubt whether it have any head at all but runs out of the great lake, it falls divided into the sea in seven branches, wherefore Ovid calls it in the 1. Met. Septemfluus.  
Norandino, look in the tales, makes a great feast. 129. receiveth Griffin into favour 139.   

O  
Odericke is sent by Zerbino for Isabella. 9●. would have ravished her. 98. woundeth Corebo. ibidem. is brought by Almonio to Zerbino lib. 24. staff. 16. is pardoned by him ib. staff 35. breaketh promise and is hanged. ib. staff. 38.  
Oberto king of Ireland comes to Ebuda and meets Orlando there. 85. falls in love with Olimpia. 86. marries her ibidem.  
Olimpia look tales: she is delivered by Orlando and married to Bireno. 71. betrayed by him and left on the shore. 75. is found by Orlando at the I'll of Ebuda: and her beauty described, she delivered. 85. Oberto falls in love with her. 86, marries her ibdem.  
Olivero sent prisoner to Biserta, set free by Astolfo. 328. assaults Biserta. 335. slew Bucifar. 336. is one of the three in the challenge. 338. hath Rogeros armour given him. 344. his impreyse a lymehound with the word (till he cometh) ibid. he is hurt by his horse fall. 348. is healed by the Hermit. 372. comes into France with Orlando and Rogero. 376. is at Bradamants marriage. 402.  
Origille a strumpet loved by Griffin. 119. is found with Martano, excuseth it. 122.  
Orillo a Necromancer look tales. 116.  
Orlando comes from the East Indies with Angelica and hath her taken from him. pag. 1. troubled in his sleep by a dream. 62. he leaves Paris. 63. comes upon the Pagan's camp. 65. passeth into Brittany and is put back to Antwerp. 66. hears the state of Olimpia. ibid. challengeth Cimosco. 69. kills him. 70. flings the harquebus into the sea. 71. comes to Ebuda. 84. kills an Ork ibid. sets free Olimpia again. 85. goeth back to Brittany. 87. illuded with the likeness of Angelica. 89. pursues Angelica 91. fights with Ferraw. 92. lost his helmet ibid. foiled two bands of Pagans. 93. finds Isabella. 94. delivers her. 98. hangs the outlaws. ibid. delivers Zerbino. 180. fights with Mandricard. 181. is parted. 182. hears news of Angelica. 183. falls stark mad. 185. some mad parts of his. 193. wrestles with Rodomont. 237. meets Angelica and almost catcheth her. 239. comes to Biserta. 242. troubles Astolfos army in his madness. 329. is bound & made wise by Astolfo. 330. assaults Biserta. 334. reskues Brandimart at Biserta. 336. sacks the town. 338. accepts Agramants challenge. ibid. finds Ballisard in a void ship. 344. fights the combat three to three. 348. kills Gradasso and Agramant. 352. meets Renaldo. 369. comes to Sicily. 370. he makes Brandimarts funeral. 371. his Oration. ibid. comes to the Hermit and meets Rogero there. 372. goeth back into France with him. 376. is at Bradamants marriage. 402.  
Ork a monstrous fish.   

P  
Paris son to Priamus' lover of Helena.  
Paris fired by Agramant, and quenched by rain from heaven. 61. assaulted by Agramant. 110. entered by Rodomont and set on fire. 111.  
Paul the first Hermit or Anchorit. it is said of him that a crow brought him every day half a loaf of bread, and that Anthony a devout man going to see him, the crow brought him that day a whole loaf.  
Penelope wife of Ulysses' famous for her chastity in the long absence of her husband: having many importunate suitors in her husband's absence she prayed them to respite her till she had ended a web, which she had begun to weave, and that being granted look what she wove all day she undid at night.  
Pegasus a horse that had wings, this horse is said to be bred of the blood of Medusa; and that Bellerophon thinking to ride him up to heaven, fell from him, but the horse held on his course still and was made a star.  
Phoebus or Apollo taken for the Sun.  
Pinnabell son of Anselmus of Maganza meets with Bradamant. 12. lets Bradamant fall into Merlin's pit 14. steals her horse. 17. overthrown by Marfisa. 158. takes Griffin, Aquilant, Guidon Savage, & Sansonet prisoners. 172. makes them swear to his law. ibid. is met and killed by Bradamant. 173.  
Polinesso Duke of Albany betrayeth Genewra by Dalindas means. 35. is killed by Renaldo. 38.  
Polidorus son of Priamus killed by Polimnestor for covetousness of the gold that Priamus sent with him.  
Pollux look Castor.  
Prasildo a Christian Captain.  
Progue killed her son Itis, and is feigned to have been turned into a swallow.  
Proteus counted a God of the sea called Vertumnus because he is said to turn himself into all shapes.  
Proteus' king of Egypt spoken of in the. 46. book.  
Puliano a king musters afore Agramant. 105. slain by Renaldo 154.  
Pyramids certain towers of incredible height built by the Princes of Egypt, of this look in the seven wonders of the world.   

R  
Rabican Astolfos horse. 54.  
Renaldo fell out with Orlando for Angelica. 2. lost his horse, & in seeking of him found Angelica. ibid. fought with Ferraw. ibidem. rides behind him. 3. parts from him and finds his horse. ibid. he finds Angelica again. 7. fights with Sacrepant. 10. is parted by the illusion of an Hermit. ibidem. he takes his horse again. ibidem. he goeth to Paris. 11. is sent in Embassage. ibid. arrives in Scotland. 28. goeth toward the Co●●t. ibidem. is entertained by an Abbot and his Monks. ibidem. hears of Genewras' danger. ibid. is guided to the Court. 29. meets with Dalinda. ibid. hears the tale of Genewrae 32.33.34.35.36. fights with Polinesso and kills him. 38. sues for aid to the Scottish king. 58. goeth by sea to England and is feasted there. 59 brought by Silence to Paris. 123. his Oration. ibidem. he encourageth the Scots. 125. kills Dardanell. 142. troubled with jealousy of Orlando. 216. comes to Mountalbano. 247. goeth to succour Charles. ibid. meets Guidon. 251. fights again with Gradasso. 257. fights again. 273. looseth Bayardo. 274. a champion for Charles. 222. fights with Rogero. 223, is troubled with his old love. 353. hears of Malagige where Angelica is. 354. asketh leave of Charles to go to India. ibid. assailed by a monster and delivered by a knight. 355. comes to the knight of Mantua. 356. refuseth to taste the cup to try cuckolds. 360. goeth by water to Ravenna. 369. meets Orlando at Lyppaduse. ibid. meets Rogero at the Hermit's 372. promiseth him Bradamant. 375. comes with him into France. 377. falls out with his father about Rogero. ibidem. and. 391. is at Bradamants marriage 402.  
Richardet got Fiordespina with child and should have died, & is set free by Rogero. 199. tells Rogero a tale. 200. comes to Aldigers' house. 202. goeth with him to rescue Malagige and Vivian. 203. meets Marfisa. 204. reskues Vivian and Malagige. 207. dines at Merlin's cave. 208. is overthrown by Rodomont. 210. by Guidon. 251. is at Bradamants marriage 402.  
Rifee or Riphe mountains in Seythia.  
Rodomont king of Algiers a man of passing strength musters afore Agramant. 105. enters Paris. 110. doth much spoil. 122. leaves Paris. 138. meets Discord, Pride and jealousy with Doralices messenger. ibid. takes Frontino from Hippalca. 179. fights with Mandricard. Lib. 24. staff 80. parted, staff 93. fights with Rogero. 212, parted. 213. reskues Agramant. 217. falls at variance with Mandricard & with Sacrepant. 219. refused by Doralice goeth away malcontent. 221. his invective against women. 222. his host's entertainment. 233. meets Isabella. 231 kills the Priest. 234. is drunk and cuts off Isabella's head. 235. makes a tomb, a vow and a bridged. 236. is cast by Orlando into the water. 237. overcomes Brandimart. 254. is overthrown by Bradamant. 293. enters into a cell for shame of his foil received by Bradamant. 294. challenges Rogero at Bradamants marriage. 401. is killed by Rogero. 404.  
Rogero taken by Atlant. 13. delivered by Bradamant. 27. carried away by the Griffith horse. ibid. comes to Alcinas' Isle. 42. is warned by Astolfo 43. fights with the monsters, 46. is rescued by two Ladies. ibidem. overthrows Erissila. 49. is entertained by Alcina. 50. is warned by Melissa. 53. discovers Alcinas illusions. ibid. deceives Alcina and flies. 57 is impeached by a Falkner. 58. tempted in his way by three Ladies. 76. assaulted by sea. ibid. delivered by Logestilla. ibid. parted from Logestilla on the winged horse. 77. sees the musters in England. 78. goes to Ireland. 79. sees Angelica tied to the rock. ibidem. overcomes the Ork by help of his shield. 80. lends Angelica his ring. ibid. loseth Angelica 83. loseth his horse. ibid. is carried by a train to another enchanted Palace of Atlant 90. freed from the enchanted Palace. 170. goes with Bradamant. 171. vanquisheth Pinnabells four knights by his shield. 173. throws away the shield. 174. sets free Richardet lib. 25.st. 10. comes to Aldiger 202. writes to Bradamant. 203. meets Marfisa. 204. reskues Malagige and Vivian.; 207 dines in Merlin's cave. 208. goes with Hippalca. 209. finds Rodomont. 211. fights with him and Mandricard. 212. parted. 213. reskues Agramant. 217. offers combat to Rodomont and Mandricard. ibid. kills Mandricard. 245 is sore hurt by him ibid. is challenged by Bradamant. 294. parts Marfisa and her. 300. fights with Marfisa and is parted. 302 tells Marfisa of his race. 303. promiseth marriage to Bradamant. ●04 assaults Marganor. 312 goes back to the camp. 313. chosen champion for Agramant. 322. fights with Renaldo. 323. is parted 326. fights with Dudon. 339. takes shipping 343. suffers shipwreck. 344. comes to an Hermit. 346. is christened. ibid. meets Orlando & Renaldo. 372. hath a promise of Bradamant. 376 comes into France with them. 3 77. is refused by Bradamants parents, his complaint 378. vows to kill Leon, and calls himself knight of the Unicorn. 380. is made king of the Bulgars. 381. is prisoner to Theodora. 385. delivered by Leon. 387 fights for him with Bradamant and wins her. 389. his complaint, and would pine himself to death. 390. is relieved by Leon. 396. marries Bradamant. 399. killeth Rodomont. 404.   

S  
Sacrepant makes great lamentation for Angelica, his complaint begins. 4.st. 41. Angelica discloseth herself to him. ibid. he encounters with Bradamant. 5. is overthrown. 6. his horse being slain takes Bayardo. ibid. fights with Renaldo. 10. is patted by an illusion. ibid. is delivered from the enchanted Palace. 27. is in another enchanted Palace. 90. freed by Angelica. 91. loseth her, and seeks her. ibid. falls out with Rodomont. 220. follows him. 222. taken, and goes home. 294.  
Samson a man of great strength spoken of in the Scripture, his virtue was in his hair, he siue 1000 men with the jaw bone of an Ass. 106.  
Sansonet governor of jerusalem, entertains Astolfo. 119. goes to Damascus. 140. wins the prize. 141. comes to the Amazons land. 149. scapeth thence. 157. freed by Astolfo. 328. helps to take Orlando. 330. assaults Biserta. 335. remains in Africa. ibid.  
Scipio a famous Captain of the Romans.  
Senapo blind, look tales. 275. healed of his eyes. 390. lends Astolfo men and money. ibid. his men assault Biserta. 335.  
Sobrino a Prince and grave counsellor to Agramant musters before him. 104. his good counsel to Agramant. 221. his answer to Marsilio, a good Oration. 321. flies with Agramant by sea. 334. misliketh of the breach of truce. 327 witholds Agramant from killing himself, and comforts him. 337. is one of the challenge 3. to 3. 338. wounded by Orlando 347. hoghs Olivers' horse. 348 is christened. 372. comes to France 577. is at the marriage of Bradamant 402.  
Stordilano father of Doralice, king of Granada a rich province of Spain, being watered with the river of Betica or Bethi. 104.   

T  
Tagus a river in Lusitania or Portugal, it hath golden sand in some places: by this river it is that Pliny writes that Marcs conceive with the wind, and bring forth colts exceeding swift, but they live but three years.  
Tiberius. 363 there were many of that name, one succeeded Augustus, and built wonderful sumptuous buildings in the I'll of Capri, and gave himself to drink and filthiness of life, insomuch that being named Tiberius Nero, they nicknamed him Biberius Mero.  
Tiberius. 364. was a good Emperor and a Christian, it written of him, that having spent much money to good and Christian uses, and beginning to want he saw a cross of stone lying on the ground, and for reverence that it should not be trodden on, caused it to be digged up, and under that another, and so a third, till at the last he found an infinite treasure that had been there hidden, which he took as a thing sent by God, and employed it to very good and princely works.  
Tithonus husband to Aurora, and had by her a gift of long life.  
Traiano father of Agramant slain by Pypin king of France, as is mentioned in the fifth page.  
Tripoli a city in Africa, so called because three sundry people did join in the inhabiting of it, the Tirians, Sidonians, and Arabians.  
Tristrams lodge, look Tales 103.  
Turpin Archbishop of France alleged often by mine Author, an ancient Historiographer.   

V  
Virgil called the Prince of the Latin Poets.  
Ulysses' son of Laertes the famous Grecian captain, a notable traveler, Qui mores hominum multorum vidit & urbes, a man of great policy, passing eloquent: the notable exploits that are attributed to him would be too long to set down, but in his Oration in Ovid's Metamorphosis they be repeated by him, Si mea cum vestris valuissent vota Pelasgi etc.  
Vllany sent by the queen of Island with the golden shield. 262. defended by Bradamant. 265. is found by Bradamant balte stripped, and goes to Marganors town with her. 308. puts Marganor to death. 313.  
Vulcan. 10. is feigned by the Poets to keep a shop in the hollowness of the mount Aetna, and there to work thunderbolts for jupiter.   

Z  
Zenocrates a Stoic, a man of no great wit, but of wonderful conti●ncie, for when some youths of Athens had covenanted with a harlot to tempt him to her company, and the s●●d Zenocrates having supped with them and drunk well that night, which is a provoking to venery, yet the harlot was not able to tempt him, notwithstanding that she was her craft's master, or at least mistress, wherefore they demanded their money again, but she avoided them thus, that her bargain was to tempt a man and not an image.  
Zerbin Prince of Scotland musters his men by the Themes. 78. his arms the lion. ibid. his comely shape. ibid. loves Isabella. 97. sends Odericke for her. ibid. governs the vaward of Renaldoes battle. 124. fights valiantly ibid. kills two Spaniards. 125. in peril to be slain is rescued by Ariodant. 125. after by Renaldo. ibidem. chaseth his enemies all night. 144. spares Medoro, and pursueth him that did hurt him. 146. 147. takes old Gabrina into protection. 159. hears news of Isabella by Gabrina. 160. fights with Hermonide for her. 162. is betrayed by her. 180. delivered by Orlando. ibidem. finds Isabella. 181. pardoneth Odericke with singular clemency. 194. commits Gabrina to his keeping. lib. 24.st. 35 gathers Orlando armour. lib. eodem st. 47. fights with Mandricard in defence of Durindan. eodem st. 51. deadly hurt. st. 56. his last lamentation. 67. dies. 69. his stately tombé made by Rodomont where Isabella and he are laid. pag. 236.  
Zeuxes of him I have spoken in the Notes of the 33. Book, only I will add this that I spoke not of there; how he painted a boy bearing a bunch of grapes, and the bird● pecking at the grapes, he found fault with his own work, saying the boy was not well drawn, for if he had, the birds would have been afraid to have come so near.    

THE PRINCIPAL TALES IN ORLANDO FURIOSO THAT MAY BE READ BY THEMSELVES.  

1 Tale of Genewra begins pag. 28. staff 42.  
2 Tale of Astolfos turning to a tree. pag. 43. staff 26.  
3 Tale of Rogeros coming to Alcina, pag. 45. staff. 54.  
4 Tale of Proteus and the Ork. pag. 60. staff. 46.  
5 Tale of Olimpia. pag. 66. staff. 16.  
6 Tale of Isabella. pag. 94. staff 67.  
7 Tale of sending Discord and Silence. pag. 107. staff 59  
8 Tale of Calligorant. pag. 115. staff 30.  
9 Tale of Orillo. pag. 116. staff 49.  
10 Tale of Origille. pag. 121.st.  
11 Tale of Lucina and Norandino. pag. 129. staff 20.  
12 Tale of the Amazons. pag. 153. staff. 5.  
13 Tale of Gabrina. pag. 162.st.  
14 Tale of Orlando's madness. pag. 183. staff. 78.  
15 Tale of Fiordespina. pag. 199.st.  
16 Tale of mine Host with Rodomonts' invective against women. pag. 222. staff 93.  
17 Tale of Tristrams lodge. pag. 263. staff 77.  
18 Tale of Senapo. pag. 275. staff 93.  
19 Tale of Lydia. pag. 281. staff 6.  
20 Tale of Astolfo going to Paradise and finding Orlando wit. pag. 284. staff 49.  
21 Tale of Marganor. pag. 308. staff 26.  
22 Tale of the Mantuan knight. pag. 356. staff 66.  
23 Tale of Adonio called the Stears man's tale. pag. 364. staff 66.  
24 Tale of Leon's courtesy to Rogero. pag. 385. staff. 11.   
For other things, as Orations, Letters, complaints, and the like, you shall find them in the Table in the name of those whom they do most concern.  
FINIS.   

Imprinted at London by Richard Field, for john Norton and Simon Waterson. 1607.