Canto 29

OH thoughts of men, vnconstant and vnstable,
As subiect vnto chaunge, as Westerne wind,
In al designments fond, and variable,
But chiefly those, that loue breeds in the mind:
Lo he that late deuild all he was able,
To slander and deface all women kinde,
Yet now with them whom he so fore reuild,
Eu'n on the sudden he is reconcild.

Indeed (most noble Dames) I am so wroth,
With this vile Turke, for this his wicked sin,
For speaking so great slander and vntroth,
Of that sweet sex, whose grace I faine would win,
That till such time, he shall confesse the troth,
And what a dammed error he was in:
I shall him make be so in conscience stoung,
As he shall teare his flesh and bite his toung.

But with what folly he was then possessed,
The sequell of the matter plaine doth show;
For he that yesterday himselfe professed,
To all the kind, a sworne 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.

And as new fancie doth his heart inflame,
So to new speach it doth his tongue direct,
A new discourse, new reasons he doth frame,
With great perswasions, 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 seruing God, and leauing worldly folly.

He faith the way of death is large and spacious,
But that to life is straight and full of paine.
But Rodomont that saw him so audacious,
In spite of him this doctrine to maintaine,
Steps to him, and with hand and tongue vngracious,
First bids him get him to his cell againe,
Then his long beard, growne on his aged chin,
All at one pull, he pilleth from the skin.

And so farre foorth his wrath and furie grew,
He wrings his necke, as pincers wring a naile,
And twise or thrise about his head him threw,
As husband men that thresh, do tosse a flaile:
Reports most diuers afterwards ensew,
But which be true, and which of truth do faile,
Is hard to say: some say he was so battered,
That all his limbs about a rocke were scattered.

Some say that to the sea he hurled him,
Though diuerse furlongs distant from the place,
And that he dide, because he could not swim:
Some others tell, some saint did him that grace,
To saue his life, and heale each broken lim,
And to the shore did bring him in short space.
The likelyhood hereof, who list may way,
For now of him, I haue no more to say.

Thus cruell Rodomont that had remoued
The babling Frire that did him so much spight,
The fearfull damsels loue to win he proued,
By all kind words and gestures that he might;
He cals her his deare heart, his sole beloued,
His ioyfull comfort, and his sweet delight,
His mistresse and his goddesse, and such names,
As louing knights apply to louely dames.

Her reasons he doth curteously confute,
(Loue soone had made him such a learned clarke)
In phrases mannerly he moues his sute,
And still his sute was leueld at one marke,
And though he might by force haue pluckt the frute,
Yet for that time he doth but kisse the barke:
He thinkes it will more sweet and pleasing make it,
If she do giue him leaue before he take it.

Wherefore a while he is content to pawse,
In hope by time to win her loue and grace:
She deems her selfe like mouse in cats sharpe clawes,
In strangers hands, and in as strange a place;
She sees he feard not Gods nor humane lawes,
Nor had no pittie of her wofull case,
That onely for his lust would her perswade,
To breake the vow that she to God had made.

Her heart and eyes, oft times to heau'n she lifts,
And prayes the blessed Virgin and her Sonne,
To saue her from this Pagans filthy drifts,
That vnto her no villanie be donne:
She doth bethinke her of an hundred shifts,
How she his beastly lust may safely shunne,
That like an open gulfe on her did gape,
So as it seemd vnpossible to scape.

She finds out many scuses and delayes,
That to prolong, which faine she would preuent,
Sometime in humble manner him the prayes,
That to release her he would be content:
But being still repulst at all assayes,
At last she doth a way and meanesinuent,
Not onely how to shun that present shame,
But merit to her selfe eternall name.

Vnto the cruell Turke that now began
From all good course of curtesie to swarue,
She commeth in the meekest sort she can,
And faith, if he her honor will preserue,
(Which is the part of each true valiant man)
She would of him that fauour well deserue,
And giue him such a gift as in due measure,
Should farre surpasse this momentarie pleasure.

But if you needs will me defloure, I wis
(She said) when you haue done you will repent,
To thinke how fondly you haue done amisse,
And lost that might haue bred you true content
As for your carnall loue, you need not misse
More faire then I, and fitter for your bent,
But in ten thousand, one you shall not know,
That such a gift vpon you can bestow.

I know (quoth she) an herbe, and I haue seene
A little since the place where as it grew,
That boild vpon a fire of cypresle cleene,
And mixt with elder berries and with rew;
And after strained harmlesle hands betweene,
Will yeeld a iuyce, that who in order dew,
Annoint therewith, shall neuer domage feele,
By flame of fire, nor yet by dint of steele.

I say if one therewith annoint him thrise,
These strange effects thereof will strait ensew,
Prouided alwayes that in any wise
He must each month the liquors strength renew:
I haue the way to make it in a trice,
And you shall see by proofe that it is true;
This thing I thinke should ioy you more to gaine,
Then if you conquerd had all France or Spaine.

And now for my reward of you, I pray
Let me obtaine this fauourable meed,
To sweare that you henceforth will not assay
My chastitie, by either word or deed:
Foll Rodomont thinks this a blessed day,
And hopes he now shall neuer armor need,
And sweares he will her honour safe defend,
Though to performe it he doth not intend.

Yet till she might this worke bring to effect,
He doth himselfe against his mind inforce,
And that she might no violence expect,
He doth not offer any signe of force;
But that once doire, his oth he will neglect,
For of an oth he neuer had remorce;
But specially he thought it least disgrace,
His oth to violate in such a case.

He makes to her a solemne protestation,
And with most damned oaths the same doth bind,
That he will neuer do her molestation,
If she procure a iuyce of such a kind:
This sink so deepe in his imagination,
Of Cygnius and Achilles runs his mind,
For by this meanes he doth himselfe assure,
Such priuiledge as they had to procure.

Poore Isabella glad of this delay,
By which a while her chastitie she shields,
Receiuing this his promise, go'th straightway
To seeke these herbs amid the open fields,
In eu'ry bank and groue, and hedge and way,
She gathers some, such as the country yeelds;
And all the while the Pagan walketh by,
And to the damsell casteth still an eye.

And least she should want cypresse wood to bunie,
He with his sword cuts downe whole cypresse trees,
And in all other things to serue her turne,
That each thing may prouided be he sees:
Now with her herbs she made her home returne,
The caldrons are on fire (no time to leese)
She boyles and perboyles all those herbs and flowres,
In which he thought there were such hidden powres.

At all these ceremonies he stands by,
And what she doth he many times doth looke,
The smoke and heate at last him made so dry,
That want of drinke he could no longer brooke,
Greeke wines there were, and those he doth apply,
Two firkins late from passengers he tooke,
He and his men by drinking both that night,
Their heads full heauie made, their hearts full light.

Though by their law they are forbidden wine,
Yet now that here they did the liquor tast,
They thought it was so sweet and so diuine,
That Nectar and that Manna farre it past:
At that restraint they greatly do repine,
That did debar them of so sweet repast,
And at their owne law and religion laffing,
They spend that night carowsing and in quaffing.

Now had faire Isbell finisht that confection,
Which this grosse Pagan doth beleeue to be,
Against both steele and fire a safe protection:
Now sir (she said) you shall the triall see,
And that you may be sure that no infection
Is in these drugs, you first shall proue by me,
I shall you shew thereof so perfect triall,
As you shall see the proofe past all deniall.

My selfe (quoth she) mind first to take the say,
That you may see I do not faine nor lie,
Then after on your selfe you proue it may,
When you haue made a witnes of your eie:
Now therefore bid your men to go away,
That none be present here but you and I,
And thus, as with her selfe she had appointed,
Her neck and brefts, and shoulders she annointed.

Which done, in chearefull sort she open layd
Her naked necke before the beastly Turke,
And bad him strike, for she was not afrayd,
She had such skill and trust in this rare worke:
He vnadu[…]d, and haply ouerlayd
With wine, that in his idle braine did worke,
Was with her speech so vndiscreetly led,
That at one blow he quite cut off her head.

The head where loue and all the graces dwelt,
By heedlesse band is from the bodie seuered,
Alas whose heart at such hap could not melt?
Yea that is more, the head cut off endeuered
To shew what pleasure of her death she felt,
And how she still in her first loue perseuered:
Thrise from the floore the head was seene rebound,
Thrise it was heard Zerbines name to sound.

His name to whom so great loue she did beare,
As she to follow him would leaue her life,
To whom us hard so say if that she were
A truer widow or a kinder wife;
O soule that didst not death nor danger feare,
(A sample in these latter times not rise)
To saue thy chastitie and vowed truth,
Eu'n in thy tender yeares and greenest youth.

Go soule, go sweetest soule for euer blest,
So may my verse please those whom I desire,
As my poore Muse shall euer do her best,
As farre as pen can paint, and speech aspire,
That thy iust praises may be plaine exprest
To future times. Go soule to heauen or hyer;
And if my verse can graunt to thee this chartir,
Thou shalt be cald of chastitie the Martir.

At this her deed so strange and admirable,
He that aboue all heau'ns doth ay remaine,
Lookt downe, and said it was more commendable
Then hers for whom Tarquinio lost his raigne.
And straight an ordinance inuiolable,
Ay to be kept on earth he doth ordaine,
And thus he said, eu'n by my selfe I sweare,
Whose powre, heau'n, earth, sprites, men and Angels feare,

That for her sake that dide of this name last,
Who euer shall hereafter beare that name,
Shall be both wise and continent and chast,
Of faultlesse manners, and of spotlesse fame,
Let writers striue to make their glòrie last,
And oft in prose and verse record the same,
Let Hellicon Pindus, Parnassus hill,
Sound Isabella, Isabella still.

Thus said the Hy'st, and then there did ensew
A wondrous calme in waters and in aire,
The chast soule vp into the third heau'n flew,
Where Zerbin was, to that the did repaire:
Now when the beastly Turke saw plaine in vew,
How he had prou'd himselfe a womanslayre,
When once his drunken furfet was digested,
He blam'd himselfe and his owne deed detested.

In part to satisfie for this offence,
And to appease her ghost as twere in part,
Although he thought no pardon could dispence,
Not punishment suffice for such desart;
He vowes a monument of great expence,
Of costly workmanship and cunning art,
To raise for her, nor minds he to go furder,
Then that selfe church where he had done ye murder.

Of that selfe place he minds her tombe to make,
And for that cause he gets of workmen store,
For loue, for mony, and for terrors sake,
Six thousand men he set to worke and more;
From out the mountaines massie stones they take,
With which wel wrought, & hewd, & squard therfore
With hie and stately arch that church he couers,
And in the midst intombs the blessed louers.

And ouer this was raisd with curious sleight,
A Pyramid, a huge and stately towre,
Which towre an hundred cubit had in heigh[…],
By measure from the top vnto the flowre;
It seemd a worke of as great charge and weight,
As Adrian made, to bost his wealth and powre,
Of goodly stones, all raisd in seemly ranks,
Vpon the edge of stately Tybris banks.

Now when this goodly worke was once begunne,
He makes a bridge vpon the water by,
That of great depth and force did euer tunne,
In former time a ferrie there did lye,
For such as would a further circuit shunne,
And passe this way more easie and more nye;
The Pagan takes away the ancient ferrie,
And leaues for passengers, not bote, not wherrio.

But makes a bridge where men to row are wont,
And though the same were strōg, & of great length,
Yet might two horses hardly meet a front,
Nor had the sides a raile or any strength,
Who comes this way he meanes shall bide a bront,
Except he haue both corage good and strength,
For with the armes of all that this way come,
He means to bewtifie faire Isbels toome.

A thousand braue Atchieuments he doth vow,
Where with he will adorne this stately worke,
From whom he taketh all these spoiles or how,
He cares not whether Christian or Turke.
Now was the bridge full finished, and now
His watchmen on each side in corners lurke,
To make him know when any one coms neare,
For all that come, he means shall buy it deare.

And further his fantastike braine doth thinke,
That sith by drinking wine he did that sin,
In lieu thereof he now would water drinke,
As oft as by mishap he should fall in:
For when he should vnto the bottome sinke,
The top would be an ell aboue his clun,
As who should say, for eu'rie euill action
That wine procures, were water satisfaction.

Ful many there arriued in few days,
Some men, as in the way from Spaine to France,
Some others fondly thirsting after prayse,
In hope by this exploit their names t'aduance,
But Rodomont doth meet them both the ways,
And such his vallew was so good his chance,
That still as many men as there arriues,
Lost all of them their arms, and some their liues.

Among the many prisners that he tooke,
All those were Christians to Algyre he sent,
And willd his men safely to them to looke,
Because ere long himselfe to come he ment;
The rest, saue that their armors they forsooke,
All harmelesse backe into their countries went:
Now while such feats were by the Pagan wrought,
Orlando thither came of wits bestraught.

At that same instant that Orlando came,
Was Rodomont all armed saue his hed,
The naked Earle with wits quite out of frame,
Leaps ou'r the bar, and went (as folly led)
To passe the bridge, the Pagan him doth blame,
For his presumption, and withall he sed,
Stay sawcy villen, proud, and vndiscreet,
For such as thee, this passage is not meet.

For Lords and knights and squyres of good estate,
This bridge was built, and not for thee thou beast:
He that no sence had in his idle pate,
Not heeding what was said still onward prest:
I must (the Pagan thinks) this fools pride bate,
It seems belike he thinks I am in iest,
And thereupon he makes the madman towards,
And minds to drowne him, sith he was so frowards.

He little lookt to find a match so hard,
Now while they two together gan to striue,
Behold a gallant dame of great regard,
At that same bridge by fortune did arriue,
Faire Fiordeliege, that late before had hard,
How loue did of his witts this Earle deprius,
She hither came to seeke out Brandimart,
That now in Pari, was with pensiue hart.

And thus this Ladie (as before I told)
Came at that season to this dangerous place,
And knew this Earle, when she did him behold,
And wonderd much to see him in such case:
Now held Orlando with his foe hard hold,
In vaine the Pagan striues him to displace,
And grinning, to himselfe he said at length,
Who could haue thought, a foole had such strength?

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 aboue, sometime another way:
Orlando stands vnmou'd, do what he list;
The Pagan seemd to do by him that day',
As doth the Beare, that would d[…]g vp the tree,
From whence she fell, but fees it will not be.

Orlando full of force, though void of sence,
About the middle tooke the Pagan fast,
And heaues him vp from ground, & so from thence,
Into the streame himselfe he backward cast:
Vnto the bottome both do sinke from whence
Each one was glad to get him in great hast,
Orlando nakt and light, swam like a fish,
So that he soone gat out as he would wish.

And being out, away he straight doth runne,
Not tarries he to heare, or to exspect,
If men do blame or praise that he had donne,
But follows on his former course direct:
This while the Pagan dranke uye halfe a tunne
Of water, ere he could himselfe erect,
And hardly he escaped being drownd,
So heauie armd, and in place so profound.

Now, while the Pagan swimmeth for his life,
Faire Fiordeliege with sad and pensure hart,
A liuely patterne of a vertuous wife,
Doth search the sepulcher for Brandimart,
She tooke her time while they fell first at strife,
And vp and downe she lookt in eu'rie part,
But here she finds not arms not yet his mantell,
Not meets with such as of him tydings can tell.

But leaue we her awhile thus mourning sad,
And secking him each where saue where he was,
And tell we now what hap Orlando had,
And what strange feats his furie brought to passe,
You might perchance beleeue that I were mad,
If none of his mad pranks I ouerpasse.
Which were so strange, and in so great a number,
As you to heare, and me to tell would cumber.

I onely shall some few of those recite,
As to my present purpose shall pertaine:
The madman westward held his course forthright,
Straight to the hils that seuer France fro Spaine,
He seldome bayts, but trauels day and night,
So much he was distemperd in his braine,
And by the mountaines side as he did passe,
He met two young men driuing of an asse.

This asse they loden had with clefts of wood,
Fast bound vpon his burden bearing backe;
They seeing one runne nakt as he were wood,
Amid their way, they cride, hoe sirra backe,
But he makes answer neither bad not good,
For sence and vnderstanding he did lacke,
But with his foote, the poore asse he so spurned,
That both his lode and him he ouerturned.

He tost him like a football vp on hy,
Whence downe he fell and brake his necke with it;
Then at the men he doth with forie fly,
Of which the tone had better hap then wit,
For downe the rocke the tone lept by and by,
Deep threescore yards, and by the way did hit,
Vpon a banke of furze, growne in the place,
And seapt with onely scratching of his face.

The tother that of feare like passion feels,
Did thinke to clammer vp vpon the rocke,
But straight Orlando takes him by the heels,
And puls him downe and beats him like a stocke,
As fishers vse to beat their sliding Eels,
And eu'n as fawlkners teare some time a cocke,
To giue vnto their hawks their intrals warme,
So he tears leg from leg, and arme from arme.

These same and other like, stupendious deeds,
He put in practice while those hils he past,
Eu'n such as speech and credit all exceeds,
His fits so furious were, his strength so vast:
So far vnto the westward he proceeds,
That to the sea, he now was come at last,
Eu'n to the sandie shoars of Tarracona,
That leadeth right the way to Barcellona.

Vpon those sands (such was his made conceat)
He purposd with himselfe a house to build,
And being noyed with the parching heat,
He thinks with sand his skin therefro to shild:
Straight with his hands he digs him out a seat,
And though the oes his bodie all defild,
Yet with that mould his members all he couered,
That nothing but his head could be discouered.

Now as he lay halfe burid in the sand,
(For saue his head, the rest was all vnseen,)
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 lorne louers bosting then I ween)
Came vnto him so neare and on such soden,
That vpon him her horse had welny troden.

But seeing straight vp start a naked man,
The fight did her greatly amaze and fright,
She knows him not, nor guesse at him she can,
She thinketh sure, he is some hellish spright:
Rough grifly heard, eyes staring, vilage wan,
All parcht, and sunne burnd, and deformd in fight,
In fine he lookt (to make a true description)
In face like death, in cull or like a Gyptian.

But she at this strange fight (as erst I said)
Did gallop thence as fast as she could ride,
And screeching lowd, she crieth out for aid,
Vnto Medoro her beloued guide:
The mad Orlando was not ill apaid,
When such a prettie damzell he had spide:
Though he no knowledge nor remembrance had,
How this was she, for whom he first fell mad.

Yet, as delighted with her pleasing hew,
And liking well to see so faire a face,
With great desire he straight doth her pursew,
Eu'n as a hound the fear full Doc doth chase,
Medoro mou'd herewith, his rapier drew,
And after this mad fellow rides apase,
And with his horse he thinketh downe to tred him,
And with his blade he thinketh to behed him.

But by effect, contrariwise he found,
That he without his host his reckning made,
The madman shrinketh not an inch of ground,
And his bare skin was harder then the blade,
Yet sodenly when as the madman found,
That one behinde his backe did him inuade,
He turnd and with his fist so smote the horse,
As made him ly on ground a senslesse corse.

And in a trise he backe againe doth goe,
To catch Angelica who spurrs with speed,
And thinketh still her palfreys pase too sloe,
For such a turne, and so it was indeed,
For had it gone like arrow from a boe,
It hardly could haue holpe her at this need;
At last her onely hope was in the ring,
For now to helpe her was none other thing.

The ring that neuer faild 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 sodainenesse 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 topsie turuie from the beast she tell.

Had she falne shorter, or on tother side,
In likelihood the madman had her caught,
Which if he had, she doubtles should haue dide,
But great good fortune her deliuerie wrought:
But now another beast she must prouide,
For this another pase will soone be taught,
Orlando full doth her pursue so fast,
That needs he must ou'rget her at the last.

As for Angelica I take no care,
I know that she a beast long will not lacke,
But rather steale one, as she did that Mare,
That now in madmans hands will suffer wracke.
To follow her Orlando doth not spare,
Till he her stayd and lept vpon her backe,
Then gallopt he as long as she was able,
And lets her rest in neither field not stable.

Vntill at last in leaping ou'r a ditch,
The poore Mare put her shoulder out of ioynt,
He with his fall, tooke neither ach not stitch,
Nor of the bruse he passeth not a poynt;
Nor seeketh he for turpentine or pitch,
The poore beasts brused members to annoynt,
Though he might see with this fall he had mard her,
Yet faine he would, she should haue borne him farder.

At last on his owne shoulder her he laid,
And bare her so about an arrow shoot,
But feeling then that she too heauie waid,
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.

And tels her now with ease she follow may,
And so to harry her he doth begin,
The sharpe stones lying in the rugged way,
Fret of her haire, and afterward the skin,
The beast misused thus, liues searse a day:
Orlando hath her tyde vnto his shinne;
He sees not, nor he knows not she is ded,
But on he draws her as his furie led.

And sure he would haue seru'd her such a tuch,
I meane his mistres, if he could haue caught her,
Had not the vertue of that ring beene such,
As how to walke inuisible it taught her:
Ah curled be that ring, and curst as much
Be he that so vnluckily it brought her;
Else sure Orlando had reuenged then,
Her often wrongs, to him and other men.

Yet why wish I this curse on her alone?
I would the like might hap to all the kinde,
For in a thousand good there is not one,
All be so proud, vnthankfull and vnkinde,
With flintie hearts; carelesse of others mone,
In their owne lusts carrid most headlong blinde,
But more herein to speake I am forbidden,
Some time for saying truth one may be chidden.