Canto 35

FAire mistresse who for me to heau'n shall fly,
To bring again frō thence my wandring wit,
Which I still loose, since from that piercing ey,
The dart came forth that first my heart did hit?
Nor of my losse, at al complaine would I.
Might I but keepe that which remaineth yet,
But if it still decrease, within short space,
I doubt I shall be in Orlandos case.

Yet well I wot where to recouer mine,
Though not in Paradise nor Cynthias spheare,
Yet doubtlesse in a place no lesse diuine,
In that sweet face of yours, in that faire heare,
That rubie lip, in those two starlike cyne,
There is my wit, I know it wanders there;
And with my lips, if you would giue me leaue,
I there would search, I thence would it receaue,

But to returne vnto that English Prince,
Whom (if you do remember) with S. Iohn,
By vgly streame I left a little since,
The fatall sister spinners looking on,
Who sometime do prolong, and sometime mince
Our threed of life, I say he saw anon,
Among a million more, one passing fleece,
More sine then that that Iason brought to Greece.

So shone the thred that from that fleece out came,
No gold, nor Orient perle could looke so bright,
Astolfo much desir'd to know his name,
And time of birth, that to that thred had right.
Straightways this answer vnto him doth frame,
He that the darke Apocalips did write;
The number of his birth shall noted be,
When twentie shalbe tane from M and D.

And as the fleece which here so faire doth show,
In finest substance pasteth all the rest;
So shall the person that the same doth ow,
Make that same age in which be liueth, blest,
For all the gifts that nature can bestow,
Or with which studie can a man inuest,
Shall powred be on him with large proportion,
Assigned from aboue, to be his portion.

There stands (said he) neare to the bankes of Poe,
A village now of small or none account,
Whose moorish seat the streame doth ouerflow,
But in that time that I to you recount,
Vnto a Citie of such state shall grow,
As all the neighbour townes it shall surmount;
Nor sole in walls, and buildings fayre and stately,
But in good arts of old found out, or lately.

Nor thinke you this preferment to proceed,
By peraduenture, or as it were by chance,
But eu'n as a thing by God himselfe decreed,
For one mans sake, his natiue soile t'aduance;
As still we see those that good fruits will breed,
Do grasse the stocke, and prune & pike the branch,
Or as the goldsmith pollisheth the mettell,
In which he minds a gemme of price to settell.

For nere shall soule that shall to earth descend,
With mortall garment be more comely clad,
Neuer did God a soule from hence downe send,
That more choise gifts, nor more rare vertues had
Then this, which vnto him he doth intend,
That shall his country and his friends make glad,
Hippolito of Est his name shall be,
To whom the heau'ns such fauours do decree.

For all those vertues great that wonted are,
To set forth diuers, diuersly deuided,
Shall ioyned be in this same man most rare,
Vnto such place, by heau'ns appointment guided;
Maintaind shall studies be by his great care,
All quarrels cease, and broyls shall be decided,
Whose vertues all, if I to tell prolong,
Orlando should expect his wit too long.

Thus much the follower of Iesus spake,
The while Astolfo those same webs doth vew,
From whence our liues end and beginning take:
One spun, one cut, the third doth stuffe renew.
Then came they to the foule and lothsome lake,
Darke, deepe and mirie, of a deadly hew,
Where was the aged man, that neuer stinted
To carry bundels of the names imprinted.

This was the man, whom (as I told before)
Both vse and nature so swift pac't had made,
He neuer rested, but ranne euermore,
And with his running he did vse this trade;
A heape of names within his cloke he bore,
And in the riuer did them all vnlade;
Or (plaine to speake) away he cast them all
Into this streame, which Lethee we do call.

This prodigall old wretch no sooner came
Vnto this cursed riuers barren banke,
But despratly, without all feare of blame,
Or caring to deserue reward or thanke,
He hurld therein full many a precious name,
Where millions soone into the bottome sanke,
And scant in eu'ry thousand one was found,
That was not in the gulfe quite lost and drownd.

Yet all about great store of birds there flew,
As vultures carren crowes, and chattring pies,
And many more of sundry kinds and hew,
That made leud harmonie with their lowd cries:
These, when the carelesse wretch the tresor threw
Into that streame, did all they could deuise,
What with their talents some, and some with beake
To saue some names, but find themselues too weake.

For euer as they sought themselues to raise,
To beare away those names of great renowne,
The weight of them so heauie downeward wayes,
They in the stream were driu'n to cast them downe,
Onely two swans sustaind so great a praise,
In spite of him that sought them all to drowne,
These two do still take vp whose names they list,
And bare them safe away, and neuer mist.

Sometime all vnder that soule lake they diued,
And tooke vp some that were with water couered,
And those that seemd condemned, they repriued,
And often, as about the banke they houered,
They caught them ere they to the streame arriued:
Then went they with the names they had recouered,
Vp to a hill that stood the water nigh,
On which a stately Church was built on high.

This place is sacred to immortall fame.
And euermore a Nymph stands at the gate,
And took the names, wherwith the two swans came,
(Whether they early come, or whether late)
Then all about the Church she hangd the same,
Before the sacred image, in such rate,
As they might then well be assur'd for euer,
Spite of that wretch in safetie to perseuer.

Astolfo had a great desire to know
The mysteries most high, and hidden sence
Of that old man, that still ran to and fro,
And precious things so leudly did dispence,
And of the birds, and of the nymph also,
That from the swans tooke names, and bare them
And therefore asked what they signified, thence,
To whom the man of God thus wise replied:

Know first (said he) there cannot wag a straw
Below on earth, but that the signe is here;
And each small act doth correspondence draw,
Although in other shew it doth appeare:
That aged man, that running erst you saw,
And neuer baits, nor resteth all the yeare,
To worke the like effects aboue is bound,
As time doth worke below vpon the ground.

When here the fatall threed of life is spun,
Then doth below the life of man decline,
There same, and here their names in mettall done,
Would make them both immortall and diuine,
Saue here this aged sire, that so doth runne,
And there below, time doth thereat repine,
He here flings all the names into a puddle,
Time there doth all in darke obliuion huddle.

And eu'n as here Rau'ns, Vultures, Pies and Crowes,
And such like birds, endeuour all they may,
To saue those names that worthiest they suppose,
But wanting strength, the names stil downward sway:
So there promooters, ruffins, bawds, and those
That can the parasites and iesters play,
That by great Lords are oft more made of, then
The true and plaine, and vertuous minded men.

And these (forsooth) good fellowes call you must,
Because they learne like Asle and Porke to be,
But when their Lords be layd full low in dust,
Their line of life cut off by sisters three,
Yea oft by their owne surfetting and lust,
Then these same goodly squires of base degree,
In their vile mouths, their names beare vp and downe
A while, and after in obliuion drowne.

But as the swans that here still flying are,
With written names vnto the sacred port,
So there Historians learnd, and Poets rare,
Prescrue them in cleare fame and good report;
O happie Princes, whose foresight and care
Can win the loue of writers in such sort,
As Cesar did, so as you need not dread,
The lake of Lethe after ye be dead.

But surely God their reason so doth blind,
And takes from them all sence of wit and skill,
That when their rooms on earth they haue resignd,
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,
Their fame should sweeter smel then nard or mirrha.

Perhaps Aencas was not so deuout,
Nor Hector nor Achilles were so braue,
But thousands haue as honest been and stout,
And worthy by desert more praise to haue;
But those faire lands and castles out of doubt,
That their successors vnto writers gaue,
Made them so famous ouer forren lands,
Canonizd by the Poets sacred hands.

Augustus Cesar was not such a saint,
As Virgil maketh him by his description,
His loue of learning seus th that complaint,
That men might iustly make of his proscription;
Nor had the shame that Neros name doth taint,
Confirmd now by a thousand yeares prescription,
Bene as it is, if he had had the wit,
To haue bene franke to such as Poems writ.

Ilind Homer writes how Agamemnon fought,
And wan at last great Troy that long resisted;
And how Penelope, though greatly sought
By many suters, yet in faith persisted:
Yet sure (for ought you know) he might haue taught
The contrary to this if he had listed,
That Troy preuaild, that Greeks were conquerd cleane,
And that Penelope was but a queane.

On tother side, we see Queene Didos name,
That worthy was indeed to be commended,
Is subiect now to slaunder and to shame,
Because that she by Virgil is not frended.
But on this point I now more tedious am,
Then I was ware, or then I had intended,
For I loue writers well, and would not wrong them,
And I my selfe do count my selfe among them.

I wrate a volume of my masters praise,
For which to me he hath not bin vngrate,
But to this height of honour me doth raise,
Where (as you see) I hue in happie state;
I pitie those that in these later dayes
Do write, when bountie hath shut vp her gate,
Where day and night in vaine good writers knocke,
And for their labours oft haue but a mocke.

So as indeed this reason is the chiefe,
That wits decay, because they want their hire,
For where no succour is, nor no reliefe,
The very beasts will from such place retire.
Thus said the saint, and (as it were with griefe
Of such offence) his eyes did flame like fire,
But turning to the Duke with sober laster,
He pacifide himselfe a little after.

But here I leaue Astolfo safe and sound
With holy Iohn, for forthwith leape must I,
As far as from the Moone vnto the ground,
My wings would faile it stil I soard so hie:
Now come I vnto her that had the wound,
That euer smarting wound of iealousie,
I told she had, when last of her I spoke,
Vnhorst three kings with goldelaunces stroke.

And how she lay all at a castle sad,
Although in vaine she sought her griefe to smother,
How at that place she perfect knowledge had,
That Agramant was foyled by her brother,
And that to flie to Arlie he was glad,
With good Rogero and with many other;
This made her vnto Prouence then to hast,
Because she heard that Charles pursude him fast.

Now vnto Prouence onward as she went,
A comely damsell in her way she vewd,
Who though she lookt like one that did lament,
Yet could not griefe her comely grace exclude;
This dame had traueld long, with this intent,
To find some knight that from the Pagan […]ude,
(Fierce Rodomont, that prisner held her louer)
By force of armes againe might him recouer.

Now when the comfortlesse dame Bradamant
Had met a dame as comfortlesse as she,
Such simpathie she felt of griefe, that scant
She kept in teares, so sad a sight to see,
She askt her what misfortune or what want,
Of her sad plight, vnworthy cause might be:
Faire Fiordeliege that for a knight did hold her,
The circumstance of all the matter told her.

And in most rufull sort she did recount,
Both of the tombe and bridge the wofull storie,
And how the cruell Pagan Rodomount
Had taken him, for whom she was so sorie,
Not that he could in value him surmount,
That for his value had obtaind much glorie,
But that the Pagan not to strength did trust,
But to a bridge and vantages vniust.

Wherefore most noble minded knight (said she)
If such you be, as by your speech I gueste,
Helpe my deare spouse from bondage vile to free,
And plague the Pagan that doth him oppresse;
Or if you cannot so, yet counsell me,
Where I may find some ayd for my distresse,
Some knight so stout of heart, and strong of hand,
As may this cruell Sarazen withstand.

So shall you do a braue and noble deed,
That wandring knights, do think they ought of due,
So might you ayd a worthy man indeed.
And one in loue most faithfull and most true:
As for his other praise, it is no need
For me to tell mine owne griefes to renue,
Sith well I know, they plainly are appearing,
To all that haue their sense of sight and hearing.

The worthie Dame, that thirsted still for praise,
Agrees to take this hard exploit in hand,
As one that readie was at all aslayes,
On horse, on foote, by water or by land:
For either thus, she shall her glorie raise,
If so she shall the Pagans force withstand,
Or die she shall, which danger lesse doth moue her,
Because she thinks Rogero doth not loue her.

And thus she sayd, most louely louing Dame,
Gladly I shall my vtmost forces proue,
To succour one that merits so great same,
Yet of his praises chiefly me doth moue,
Because you giue him such a noble name,
That he is true and faithfull in his loue:
Which sith you speake by triall, I must weene so,
Else I durst sweare no man aliue had beene so.

These last words ending with a scalding sigh,
A sigh that came indeed from grieuous thought,
Then on they went, till they approched nigh
The parlous bridge, that Rodomont had wrought:
And straight the watch descride them from […]on high,
And blew a horne, by which the Pagan thought,
That trauellers were come the bridge to passe,
Came out all armed, as his manner was.

But when that he one all in armour saw,
He greets them lowd with this lewd salutation:
Ho stay, and er you passe obserue this law,
Vnto this tombe, humbly to make oblation,
Of horse and armes, with feare and reu'rent aw:
Else with this speare expect sharpe castigation.
She, that before had heard of Isbels deth,
And of this tombe, thus stoutly to him seth.

Ah damned wretch, why should the innocent,
Indure the penance of thy grieuous guilt?
Thy selfe shouldst die, or suffer punishment,
That killedst her, if please her ghost thou wilt:
Her soule (vpon my soule) would be content,
If by my hand thy guiltie blood were spilt,
More then with all the armors, men, and horses,
That thou dost win by thy vnlawfull forces.

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 trie:
But let vs first vpon these points agree,
That if you hap to vanquish me, then I
Shall suffer at your hands, so and no more,
Then other prisoners haue done before.

But if I vanquish you (as sure I trust)
Then I will haue the spoile of all the rest,
And make your horse, and arms, a guist more iust,
Vpon the tombe of her for euer blest:
And then withall, to me you promise must,
That all your prisners straight shall be releast.
When thus the Dame her mind had signified,
Thus the fierce Turke mildly to her replied.

Faire Dame, you seeme to me to speake but reason,
And thereto I my franke assent affoord:
But true it is, that I for feare of treason,
My prisners all, haue sent from hence aboord,
So as I cannot free them at this season,
But firmely here to you I passe my word,
If you foile me, of which there is small reobertie,
I will send word to set them all at libertie.

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 prisner in my fleet,
I will remit to you my conquest all.
For that faire faces sake, and looke so sweet;
Suffise it that this curtesie may moue thee,
Where now thou seemst to hate me, thé to loue me.

Be not (faire Dame) in your owne strength be guyld,
I offer not such grace to eu'rie stranger,
For I am strong; at this the damsell smyld,
But such a smyle, as shewd not mirth, but anger;
And whether courage had all feare exyld,
Or that dispaire made her to doubt no danger;
She spurd her horse, nor other answer made him,
But with her speare in rest she doth inuade him.

This so did moue the cruell Rodomount,
Vpon his horse he doth himselfe aduance,
Not making doubt, but that he would dismount,
Out of her seat, the noble Dame of France;
But he was quite deceiu'd of his account,
No sooner was he toucht with Goldelance,
But eu'n as if of strength he had bin reaued,
Quite from the saddle backward he was heaued.

But yet the Dame her selfe in danger was,
To fall into the streame so swift and fleet,
By meanes the bridge so narrow was to passe,
That hardly two at once thereon could meet;
But Rabican, whose swiftnesse did surpasse
All foure foot beasts, did firmely keepe his feet:
Although so straight and narrow was the bridge,
He was constraind to runne vpon the ridge.

Now when the Pagan lay thus ouerthrowne,
She turnd to him, and sporting, thus she spake,
Now sir (said she) I hope it may be knowne,
Of vs two which the worser cause did take.
But he, like one whose wits were not his owne,
He either could or would no answer make;
But still he stood, looking on ground and musing,
Neither his foyle […]enying, nor excusing,

And hauing walkt some halfe a dozen paces,
He suddenly cast all his armour off,
And hurles it gainst the stones, and it defaces,
That scant he left vnbroke one peece thereof:
Determining after such foule disgaces,
To hide himselfe, and go a great way of:
But er he went, he graunted full commission,
To free his prisners without intermission.

So thence he went, and what of him became,
Or what he did, no notice cleare I haue,
But onely this, that eu'n for verie shame,
He long liu'd close, within a secret caue;
The while his armes by that victorious Dame,
Were hangd vp at the tombe, for triumph braue,
The tother armes and furnitures among,
That erst to Pagan Princes did belong.

But for all those that were from Christens wonne,
She laid them vp, and did in safetie set,
Among the which was Monodantes sonne,
And Oliuero and stout Sansonet,
Who late before with ill successe did runne,
So that the Pagan did their armour get,
And them themselues as prisners did conuay,
Vnto Algirie, farre from thence away.

Among the rest that had their armour lost,
Was Sacrapant, the fierce Circassen Prince,
Who sought for Frontlet, to his paine and cost,
And with the Pagan fought but little since;
But being foyld, he quite forlooke that coast,
Where men, of such disgrace might him conuince,
And with great shame (but what could shame him boot
He came on horsback, & went théce on foot.

Wherefore asham'd in such sort to returne,
He minds to follow that his former quest
Of her, whose loue long since his heart did burne,
Although her loue he neuer yet possest:
For still her froward mind did euer spurne,
Against his earnest, and most iust request.
Of her returne he late had heard the news,
(I know not how) but now he her pursews.

And let him her pursue, for I proceed,
Of noble Bradamantes acts to tell,
Who hauing done this braue and worthie deed,
To free the passage where so many fell,
She wrate it, so as eu'rie one might reed,
How all the circumstance thereof befell;
Which hauing done, then she demands to know,
Which way Dame Fiordeliege did mind to go.

Who straight her purpose, vnto her vnfolding,
Told her, to passe the sea by ship shement,
At Arly, least the Turke his word not holding,
Might keepe her spouse too long in prison pent:
Then shall you (saith the Dame) be more beholding
To me, for sure (said she) tis mine intent,
Vnto that towne to guard you in your passage,
So you will do for me, but one embassage.

And that withall, you me this grace affoord,
To giue Rogero this same horse from me,
And say an vnknowne champion sends him word,
To challenge him that all the world may see
He hath bin false of promise and of word;
Of which, our combat shall the triall be:
And tell him plainly there is no deniall,
But that by challenge I will make this triall.

This say, and say no more; and if he aske
My name, then tell him plaine you may not tell;
The while mine armes shall serue me for a maske,
This I desire, do t[…]s and so farewell;
This is (said Fior […]ege) an easie taske
From you, that haue of me deseru'd so well,
As binds me both to this that you demand me,
And to what euer else you would command me.

This said, she takes the bridle in her hand,
And with her leads Frontino on the way,
Vntill they both came to the salt sea sand,
That next vnto the towne of Arly lay;
But Fiordeliege goes to the towne by land,
And Bradamant doth in the suburbs stay,
To th'end she may conuenient respite giue her,
To him the horse, and message to deliuer.

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 hast,
And through the towne of curtsie her to guard
This done, she to Rogero came at last,
And did her message with most due regard,
And gaue Frontino, and then went her way,
Nor would she once to heare his answer stay.

Rogero standeth still all in a muse,
The messenger and message so beguile him,
He wonders who it is, that both doth vse
Such curtesie, and yet withall reuile him,
He thinks the partie doth him much abuse,
With fowlest blot of breach of word to file him:
And of all others, least of all he thought,
That Bradamant of him the combat sought.

To thinke it Rodomont he was inclind,
But yet it could not sinke into his reach,
Why of a sudden he should be so kind,
And wherein he could blame his promise breach;
And saue with him, he cannot call to mind,
With whom he had of frendship any breach:
The while the Ladie with a stately scorne,
In token of defiance, blew her horne.

Straightwayes the news to Agramant doth fly,
That one without did challenge some within,
And Serpentine, that then by chance was by,
Askt leaue to fight, with sured hope to win,
And swears the knight should yeeld, or else should by
And then the people flockt both thicke and thin,
And stood vpon the walls, with young and old,
Betweene these two the combat to behold.

Out Serpentino came in braue array,
And brauely with his speare in rest he ran,
But at the first encounter downe he lay,
The horse runnes leere away without the man,
But noble Bradamant, the horse doth stay,
And backe restore: then finely as she can,
She prayes him to king Agramant to speake,
To send a stronger knight, sith he was weake.

The mightie kings of Affricke and of Spaine,
That from the wall the courteous act did vew,
From praising of the same could notrefraine,
Though none of them, thereof the author knew;
Now Serpentino backe returnd againe,
And to his Prince he told his message trew,
How that same champion did desire to fight,
With some more stout and more renowned knight.

And then Grandonio fierce of Volaterne,
The proudest knight that Spaine long time had bred
Obtaind next place, and with a visage sterne,
And threatning voice thus to the damsell sed:
Your curtsie small reward for you shall earne;
For either here in fight you must be ded,
Or at the least, I will you prisner bring,
Vnto Marsilio, of great Spaine the king.

Well (answerd she) keepe these your threats in store,
Your villany my curtfie shall not let,
But that ile frendly monish you before,
That backe againe vnto your king you get,
Ere that your […]all, may make your body sore;
And say that I desired to haue met,
A man indeed of courage, and of worth,
And not your selfe, not him that last cameforth.

This her replie so mild, and yet so bitter;
The Pagan with more furie did enflame;
With speare then speech, he thought an answer fitter
And toward her in full carreer he came,
Intending sure, some deadly blow to hit her;
But she that was accustomd to this game,
Bare well his blow, and with her Goldélance,
She taught him how the somerlaut to dance.

But yet his horse, that loose about did runne,
She brought him backe, and thus to him she sayd,
Loe sir, you had bin better to haue donne
My message, when I curteouslie you prayd;
Yet here I will release my prisner wonne,
So you will tell your king that I haue stayd,
To combat with a man in fight well seene,
And not with nouices, of skill so greene.

The lookers on that sure thought nothing lesse,
Then that a virgin so could guide a speare,
With murmurings their wonder great expresse;
Still ayming with surmises who it were;
Some Brandimart, and some Renaldo guesse,
Or others whom the Turks had cause to seare,
But most they would Orlando haue suspected,
Saue they had heard his sences were distracted.

Next stout Ferraw desir'd to haue the place,
Not that he hop't the conquest to haue wonne,
But that these knights may haue the lesse disgrace,
If I (quoth he) shall do as they haue donne:
A strong swift horse he takes, and sure of pace,
Well made to beare the shocke, and free to runne,
The choisest of an hundred that he kept,
And thus all arm'd vpon the beast he lept.

Against the femall champion forth he goes,
And first they interchangeably salute,
Please it you (said the Ladie) to disclose
Your name to me? that shall be all my sute:
He (that what longs to ciuill manners knowes,)
To satisfie her therein was not mute,
And I refuse you not, then said the tother,
Although I rather would haue had another.

Whom? (quoth Ferraw) Rogero (she replyed)
And scarse she fully could bring forth his name,
But that a blush with rosie colour dyed
Her louely cheekes, with secret honest shame:
(Further she addeth) him whole vallew tryed,
And so much praysd, was cause I hither came;
None else I seeke, nor for none else care I,
Onely his manhood I desire to try.

She spake the word in plaine and simple sence,
Which some perhaps will subtlie wrest awry,
Well (said Ferraw) yet now ere I go hence,
Let me with you haue leaue on ecourse to try;
To see if I can make no more defence,
Then those whom last you made one arth to ly,
If I fall as did they, then I will send,
That gentle knight, that may our errour mend.

Her beauer open was while they confard,
At which, when her the Spaniard well had vewed,
And markt her bewtie worthy of regard,
He was alreadie more then halfe subdewed:
He thought an Angell of the heau'nly guard,
Could not with greater bewtie be endewed;
Against her speare, what fence can he deuise,
That is alreadie conquerd with her eyes?

Now tooke they field, and ran with all their force,
And now Ferraw is from his saddle borne,
The damsell doth of curtsie stay his horse,
The Spaniard lyeth like a man forlorne;
But backe he must vnto the king perforce,
Nor true to do his message doth he scorne;
He tels Rogero plaine before them all,
How this same knight onely for him doth call.

Rogero who it is yet little knowing,
In hast to make him readie doth begin,
A setled hope of conquest plainly showing,
Willing to fight, with mind assur'd to win:
As for their foyles, and their fowle ouerthrowing,
That went before, he weighd them not a pin;
But how they met, how kindly him she serued,
Vnto the booke ensuing is reserued.