Canto 19

NOne can deeme right who faithfull frends do rest,
While they beare sway & rule in great degree,
For these both fast and fained frends are prest,
Whose faiths seeme both of one effect to be:
But then reuolts the faint and fained guest,
When wealth vnwinds, and Fortune seems to flee,
But he that loues indeed remaineth fast,
And loues and serues when life and all is past.

If all mens thoughts were written in their face,
Some one that now the rest doth ouercrow,
Some other eke yc wants his souerains grace,
When as their Prince their inward thoughts should know:
The meaner man should take the betters place,
The greater man might stoope and sit below.
But tell me now how poore Medoro sped,
That lou'd his master both aliue and ded.

In vaine he sought to get him to the wood,
By blinde and narrow pathes to him vnknowne,
Their swift, and his slow pase the same withstood,
Forst by the burden that he bare alone.
But now, when Cloridano vnderstood
Medoros case, he made for him great mone,
And curst himselfe, and was full ill apaid,
That he had left his friend deuoid of aid.

Medoro all about so straight beset,
To leaue his loued lode was then constrained,
But all in vaine he sought fro thence to get,
His masters carkas that behind remained,
Was vnto him so fierce and strong a let;
It staid his wearie steps, and him retained,
Eu'n as a Beare that would defend her whelpe,
About doth houer though she cannot helpe.

So good Medore about the corse did houer,
The while that Cloridano cometh backe,
And (for the day was dawnd) he might discouer,
How greatly his Medore, his helpe did lacke;
Wherefore to do his best him to recouer,
He takes his bow and quiuer from his backe,
And at a Scot he tooke his aime so well,
He strake him in the braine that downe he fell.

The fall and death so sodaine of the Scot,
Amated much the courage of the rest,
And much they marueld whence should come this shot,
And sore this accident did them molest:
But Cloridan for this forbare them not,
But shot another in, about the brest,
The which inflam'd Zerbinos mind so sore,
That for reuenge he would haue slaine Medore,

And fastning in his golden curled heare,
His warlike hand, thou shalt said he abuy,
Thou shalt the penance and the burthen beare
Of him, that here hath made my men to dye:
Yet for all this, Zerbino did forbeare
To kill him, when he saw with gracious eye,
His sweet sad looke, and harkned to his speech,
That in this sort for pardon did beseech.

Sir knight (he said) for thy Messias sake,
I thee do pray and earnestly coniure,
So much compassion now on me to take,
To let me giue my Lord his sepulture:
I little care what spoile of me yee make,
What paines or tortures I my selfe endure,
I onely sue, so long my life to saue,
As I may lay my master in his graue.

Now while Medoro spake these words and such,
Whereby Zerbino was to mercie moued,
And to his fauour was inclined much,
As one that gratefulnesse had euer loued,
A vile base swaine so rudely did him tuch,
As him not onely from his place remoued,
But with his staffe most rudely ouerthrew him,
That eu'ry one do deeme him dead that vew him.

This fact did so Zerbinos mind offend,
That presently the villaine he did chase,
And to haue killed him he did intend,
And had, but that the other fled apace:
But when that Cloridano saw his frend,
With bleeding wound lie prostrate in the place,
He meanes himselfe no longer now to hide,
But eu'n to die by deare Medoros side.

And as he purpos'd, so he did indeed,
For fighting manfully he there was slaine,
The Scots do onward on their way proceed,
Medoro halfe aliue doth now remaine:
And still his brest in wofull sort doth bleed,
The staffe had cut therein so large a vaine,
And sure he had bled out his life and all,
But for one rare good hap did him befall.

For lo, a damsell came, though meanely clad,
In shepheards weeds, yet fresh and faire of fauour,
And such a one as in those base clothes had,
A shew of princely birth and high behauiour,
She finding him lie there in case so bad,
Did thinke it charitie to be his sauiour:
This was (if you forget) the Ladie faire,
That of Cataya was vndoubted haire.

I shewd you by what hap she gat the ring,
And how the same had fild her with such pride,
And her into so high conceit did bring,
That all her suters now she flat denide,
She careth not for Earle, nor Duke, nor King,
Orlando she and Sacrapant defide,
But chiefly she would blush and be ashamed,
If she but hapt to heare Renaldo named.

So great her folly grew, so vaine her pride,
As she esteemed all the world at nought,
The which when once the blind boy had espide,
(Not blind when any mischiefe may be wrought)
He will no longer this presumption bide,
And for a fit occasion long he sought,
And finding this, he thought himselfe now sped,
And vp he drawes his arrow to the hed.

Now when this Indian Queene did the[…] behold
A louely youth lie dying in the place,
His bodie feeble in a mortall cold,
A deadly pale amid his liuely face,
A kind of passion straight on her tooke hold,
That mou'd her mind to pitie this his case,
And much the rather when he did declare
The wofull cause that bred him all this care.

She hauing learnd of Surgerie the art,
An art which still the Indians greatly prise,
Which fathers to their children do impart,
Whose knowledge in tradition chiefly lies,
Which without bookes the children learne by hart,
I say Angelia doth then deuise,
By skill she had in iuyce of herbes and flowres,
For to renew Medoros liuely powres.

And calling to her mind she late had seene,
An herbe whose vertue was to stanch the blood,
As Dittamie, or some such herbe I weene,
That for such purpose wholsome was and good,
Straightway she seekes this herbe vpon the greene,
With all the hast and diligence she coud,
And finding it, she takes thereof a branch,
Whose vertue was the course of blood to stanch.

Then comming backe againe, she met by hap,
A silly shepheard seeking of his cow,
That brake out of his ground at some small gap,
And now was straid he knew not where nor how,
She prayes him take the herbes were in her lap,
(A seruitor more fit to serue a sow)
And beare her companie vnto the place,
Where poore Medoro lay in dang'rous case.

Then from their horse she and the shepheard light,
And straight between two tiles those herbs she brused
And tooke the iuyce betweene her fingers bright,
And so into the wound the same infused,
Whose vertue great reuiu'd Medoros spright,
To find himselfe so well and kindly vsed,
That doubt it was which most his wound did salue,
The precious surgeon or the precious salue.

And now he had recouerd so much force,
As what with hers, and with the shepheards aid,
He clamerd vp vpon the shepheards horse,
Howbeit in the place so long he staid,
Vntill he saw his loued masters corse,
Into a graue with Cloridanos laid;
And then, and not before he did agree,
To do as he by her should pointed be.

From thence vnto the shepheards house she went,
And made her patient eke with her to go,
And there to bide with him she was content,
Till he were cleerly rid of all his wo,
But in this while she felt her heart relent,
With sundry quames that wonted not be so,
And when his comely personage she saw,
A secret heate she felt her heart to gnaw.

For while she heald his wound, another dart
Did wound her thoughts and high conceits so deep,
As now therewith was rauisht her proud hart,
Possessing it although she wake or sleepe:
Her wound to heale, there was no herbe nor art,
For more and more like flame the same doth creep,
Yet her chiefe care is him to helpe and cure,
That all this torment doth to her procure.

Thus while Medoro better growes and better,
She feeles her selfe tormented more and more,
And he that for his loue to her was debter,
Is he alone that plagueth her so sore:
Wherefore though modestie […]while did her let,
Yet now perforce no further she forbore,
But plainly to Medoro told her griefe,
And at his hands as plainly askt reliefe.

O stout Orlando, valiant Sacrapant,
O fierce Ferraw, ò hunderds more beside,
Where are those valiant acts of which you vaunt?
Where is your pompe, your glory and your pride?
One poore Medore, all your desires doth daunt,
One poore Medore doth all your powre deride,
And she whom all of you haue woo'd in vaine,
To woo Medoro doth not now disdaine.

She suffers poore Medoro take the flowre,
Which many sought, but none had yet obtained,
That fragrant rose that to that present houre
Vngatherd was, behold Medoro gained,
And ouer her to giue him persit powre,
With sacred rites a marriage was ordained,
And with the veile of this so sacred order,
She couers this her folly and disorder.

Now when the solemne marriage was done,
Of which god Cvpid askt the banes (I trow)
She going forward as she hath begun,
Continu'd there with him a month or mo,
From rising to the setting of the Sunne,
With him she doth sit, talk, lie, stand and go,
Forgetting to all maidenly sobrietie,
That she of him could neuer haue satietie.

If in the house she staid, then would she craue
Med[…]r[…] in the house with her to stay,
It in the field she walke, then must she haue
M[…]r[…] leade or guide her in the way:
And by a riuer in the shady caue,
They oft did vse to spend the heate of day:
Like to that caue where (shunning stormy wether)
The Troian Duke and Dido met together.

Amid these ioyes (as great as ioyes might be)
Their manner was on eu'ry wall within,
Without on eu'ry stone or shadie tree,
To graue their names with bodkin, knife or pin,
Angelica and Medore, you plaine might see,
(So great a glorie had they both therein)
Angelica and Medore in eu'ry place,
With sundry knots and wreathes they enterlace.

Now when she thought in this well pleasing place,
She had already made sufficient stay,
And, for she longd to do Medore that grace,
To giue to him her kingdome of Catay,
From whence she had bene absent so long space,
From this poore house she meanes to go away,
Yet minds she ere she go, her host to please,
With whom she found such pleasure and such ease.

Angelica had since she was a gerle,
Worne on her arme (as for Orlandos sake)
A bracelet rich, of precious stone and perle,
Which as a token she of him did take,
And though she had it of this worthy Erle,
Yet did she thereof chiefest reckning make,
Not that the giuer she did much esteeme,
But for the gift was rich, and so did seeme.

By her this bracelet many yeares was worne,
Not onely in her time of peace and ioy,
But eu'n when she remained most forlorne,
And subiect to each danger and annoy,
Fu'n then when nakt as euer she was borne,
The Orko came in hope her to enioy:
This bracelet (wanting store of coyne and pence)
She giues her host as for a recompence.

Next day betime she getteth on her way,
And makes Medoro sole her Lord and guide,
He kept her companie both night and day,
And none but he with her did go and ride;
Their meaning is at Berselon to stay,
A port in Spaine, vntill they may prouide
A vessell, that with helpe of oare and winde,
May them transport from Spanish seas to Inde.

But ere they were arriued at this port,
They met a mad man of his wit bestraught,
Besmeard with dirt and mire in filthy sort,
His outward sence expeld with inward thought:
This mad man made them but ilfauourd sport,
And had made worse, had he them rightly caught,
But as it was he put them in great danger,
And flies at them as dogs do at a stranger.

But how she scaped and away did get
With her new loue, hereafter I declare:
For why Marfisa I may not forget,
And those with her that in the tempest are,
With Griffin, Aquilant and Sansonet,
And th'English Duke that hath the horne so rare,
Which fiue I left in danger and disease,
Tost terribly in the tempestuous seas.

Now while the wind continu'd blowing hard,
And of his rage did small or nothing bate,
The master sets his compasse and his card,
And cals to counsell first the masters mate,
And then the marriners of best regard,
Consulting of the weather and their state,
And eu'ry one doth tell his guesse and thought,
Neare to what coast the tempest had them brought.

Some say Lymisso, Tripoly some say,
Some say Satila, full of rocks and sands,
And sweare that all of them were cast away,
Except they keepe aloofe from off those lands;
This causeth some to curse, and some to pray,
And lift to heau'n their wofull hearts and hands,
Their stuffe nor merchandize none care to saue,
But hurle the same into the greedie waue.

Well might they bost of iron heart and brest,
That could at such a time be voyd of feare,
The stout Marfisa at that time confest,
She wisht with all her heart not to be theare,
So sore the swelling seas did them molest,
As though it would the ship in peeces teare,
Nor was there any signe the wind would cease,
And that the sea would graunt them any peace.

One makes a vow to visite holy toome,
Another to Galicia vowes to go,
Vnto Saint Iames, some others vnto Roome,
Or other hallowd places that they know.
The matriners feare nought but want of roome,
Sea roome they wish, then care they for no mo,
At foure dayes end it cleard and waxed faire,
Or were't the season, or their earnest praire.

And as the weather grew more cleare and cleare,
They did discouer plaine a goodly cost,
And to the port as they drew neare and neare,
Borne in by tide, their sailes and tackle lost,
Behold a goodly citie did appeare,
With towres and stately buildings of great cost,
Of which when once the master was aware,
It bred in him no little feare and care.

To cast his anker straight he doth prouide,
For vaine it was to labour to go backe,
The vessels wanted sailes to stem the tide,
The tempest had put all thing so to wracke,
And yet he feared on the other side,
They of the towne would sure be on his iacke;
In fine so full his mind was of confusion,
He knew not whereupon to make conclusion.

Now while he stood confused in this sort,
The English Duke demaunds what cause of doubt
Made him refuse so faire and safe a port,
And striue against the streame to keepe still out?
Sir (quoth the master) briefly to report
To you the cause, know this, that hereabout,
And namely in that citie dwels a nation,
That vse a barbarous and cruell fashion.

They call them Amazons that here do dwell,
Here women guide, and rule, and gouerne all,
The men from gouernment they do expell,
Some they do kill, the rest keepe 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 satisfie ten women in one night.

And if a man performe the first of these,
And haue such hap to ouerthrow the men,
And yet at night his force do faile to please,
In act of generation damsels ten,
He must be kild or drowned in the seas,
Or kept a prisner in some caue or den;
But they that both performe, shall haue their liues,
And those ten damsels euer for their wiues.

When as the pilot out his tale had told,
Of women that delight in spoile and murder,
The English Duke could hard his laughter hold,
To heare of so fantasticall an order,
And all the fiue affirmed straight they wold
Land at this place, and go by sea no furder,
Each place to them was safe and out of feare,
Where they might haue the vse of sword and speare.

But all the shipmen carrid other minds,
As men that better were to stormes inured,
And wold haue thought their liues in waues & winds
More then in conflicts and in fights assured:
But whether reason leades, or causes binds,
Or that the better part the same procured,
The ship with broken mast and tackle torne,
By force of tide into the hau'n was borne.

No sooner was the vessell in the port,
But straight a gally ready for such need,
Stor'd with artillery of eu'ry sort,
And one that could both row and saile with speed,
Did boord them, and (to make the matter short)
A woman clad in graue and auncient weed,
As old as Sibill, or as Hectors mother,
Spake in effect these words with many other.

My friends (quoth she) or yeeld or looke to die,
For hope is none to scape away by flight,
But thus if any of you meane to trie,
If he alone can vanquish ten in fight,
And afterward with twise fiue maidens lie,
And of them maids make women in one night,
Then such a one shall rule among vs chiefe,
And saue his frends from punishment and griefe.

But if that any shall the fact attempt,
And faile 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 therewithall agast,
For in both kinds the knights had so bene proued,
As with the danger they were nothing moued.

The English Duke with these three youths of France,
Straight for this enterprise themselues prepare,
But chiefe the Duke that doubted no mischance,
By vertue of his booke and horne most rare:
Marfisa eke (though for the second daunce
She was not fit) so manly mind she bare,
As she would needs her force and fortune trie,
And sware her sword all weapons should supplie.

And straight they all agreed some lots to draw,
And to conclude on her the hazard fell,
But she that quite was void of feare and aw,
Did promise to performe her office well:
This sword (quoth she) shall abrogate this law,
And plague them all that in this citie dwell,
And to vndo these doubts I will prouide,
As Alexander Gordius knots vatide.

No fortreiner hereafter shall bewaile
The wicked law of this vngodly land:
This said, she putteth on her coate of maile,
In hope alone against ten men to stand.
Then came the ten were pointed to assaile,
But he that was the formost of the band,
As far as by apparance might be guest,
Was one that farre surpassed all the rest.

His horse was blacke as pitch, or polish ieat,
Saue in one foote, and in his brow a starre,
A shining spot of white, not very great,
A loftie raine, an eye that threatned warre;
Such as the horse, such was his owne conceat,
His sorrows did exceed his ioyes so farre,
And deadly care so drownd his small delight,
As did the blacke the little spot of white.

This knight (that euer vantage did eschew)
Would not accompanie those other nine,
But standeth still on horseback taking vew,
Which way the victorie did most incline:
Marfisa rode a horse of daintie hew,
Giu'n vnto her of late by Norandine,
His colour pide powderd with many a spot,
Small head, fierce looke, cleane limbd, and lofty trot.

Now when that giu'n of battell was the signe,
On her alone all nine at once did flie,
And she alone sustaind the force of nine:
The tenth (I said) was quiet standing by,
As one that did against that vse repine,
When more then one should seeke to make one die;
And with the first encounter thus she sped,
She layd downe foure of them on ground for ded.

The fist she iustles, and by force vnhorses,
And with a trunch the sixt she gaue a blo.
That to the ground both man and horse inforces,
With mazed head, and foltring feet to go.
The standers by admire her passing forces,
And chiefe their wiues that law them killed so,
For as a chainshot sweeps all in the way,
So with those nine Marfisa then did play.

She bathd he blade in blood vp to the hilt,
And with the same their bodies all she mangled,
All that abode her blowes, their blood was spilt,
They scaped best that here and thither rangled,
Or those whose horses ouerthrowne at tilt,
Lay with their masters on the earth intangled.
Thus of nine enemies remained none,
For all were kild, or maimd, or ouerthrowne.

The knight that was arrayd in blacke attire,
And stood aside, and saw this hardie fight,
To shew that he for feare did not retire,
But to make knowne his curtsie shining bright,
Straight steppeth out, and first he doth desire
To speake with her whom he esteemd a knight,
For he could not imagine nor suppose
A woman could haue giu'n such manly bloes.

And thus he saith, me seemes the ods 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 refresht with rest and meate,
That with mine honour fight with you I may,
For I should thinke my selfe disgraced sore,
To vanquish one wearid and spent before.

Weari'd and spent (quoth she) alas the while,
Thinke you I am so weari'd and so spent?
Your courteous offer causeth me to smile,
To thinke how quickly you will it repent;
You do deceiue your selfe, and much beguile,
To thinke that I to pawse would be content,
I doubt not you shall find but little cause,
(When you haue tride) to offer me to pause.

Well, said the knight, if you will trie it straight,
That you accept, I cannot well refuse:
Forthwith two speares of mighty strength & waight
Were brought, and he doth bid Marfisa chuse:
Now was the Sunne foure howers past his haight,
When as these two began their speares to vse,
The trumpets sound, they set their speares in rest,
And each determining to do their best.

The speares in spels and sundry peeces flew,
As if they had bene little sticks or cane,
Yet of the blowes to both did hurt ensew.
Their steeds were welnigh brought vnto their bane,
Quite ouerthrowne in all the peoples vew,
As though their legs had quite fro them bene tane,
So both their horses tumbled on the ground,
Yet both themselues from hurt were safe and sound.

An hundred and an hundred knights and more,
Marfisa had subdude (it was well knowne)
Yet such a chance she neuer had before,
To haue her horse so strangely ouerthrowne:
Also the knight that blacke apparell wore,
Doth maruel whence this great mishap was growne,
And not a little wondred at her force,
That had so stoutly ouerthrowne his horse.

Forthwith on foote 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 attentiuenesse and care,
For neuer could they guesse from the beginning,
Which of the two was in best hope of winning.

Now gan Marfisa to her selfe to say,
It happie was that he before stood still,
For had he holpe the tother nine to day,
No doubt with me it could haue bene but ill,
That now alone so hard doth hold me play,
As scant I saue my selfe with all my skill,
Thus to her selfe the stout Marfisa thought,
And all the while couragiously she fought.

Contrarie, to himselfe the knight thus seth,
Twas well for me, that he before was spent,
For had he bene but fresh in perfect breth,
I doubt me that er this I had bene shent,
Surely (thought he) I scant had scaped deth,
If he to rest himselfe had giu'n consent.
No question I did great aduantage take,
That he refusd that offer I did make.

Thus did the combat long twixt them endure,
And neither party bosted of their gaine,
Vntill the nights darke shadow and obscure,
Did couer citie, wood, and vale, and plaine,
And that that rest to all thing doth procure,
Did force them two to respit this their paine;
And first the knight thus said, what can we do?
Behold how night is come to part vs two.

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 feare and haue no little aw,
Lest eu'rie one that was to them a wife,
Whom late you kild, will from your beds you draw
For eu'rie one of those vnhappie men,
Whom erst you slue was husband vnto ten.

So that for those same nine that you haue slaine,
Nine times ten women seeke reuenge to take:
Wherefore I wish that you and all your traine,
Within my roofe this night abode do make,
For so perhap from wrong they will abstaine,
If not for right, at least for reuerence sake.
Ile take your offer sir, Marfisa saith,
So that hereof to me you giue your faith.

That as in fight you shew your valew great,
As I haue proued in this present place,
So I may find your words without deceat,
Lest falshood should your noble deeds deface:
I will accept your lodging and your meat,
And will perswade my fellows in like case;
But rather then for feare you should it thinke,
Lets fight it out by light of torch and linke.

And thus in fine they all of them agreed,
That vnto him that night they would be guest:
Straight to a sumptuous pallace they proceed,
By torch light brought to chambers richly drest,
But when that each put off their warlike weed,
Then each of them with wonder was possest:
She, that the knight did by his face appeare,
To be a boy of age but eighteene yeare.

And he, when by her haire her sex he knew,
Wonderd to see a woman of such might,
As namely that in sight nine tall men slew,
And after had with him prolongd the fight:
And either pleased the others vew,
Behold the one the other with delight,
Then each desir'd the others name to learne,
As in th'ensuing booke you shall discearne.