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Who, at a late period of my labours upon the " Furioso, ' 
suggested the present work as its necessary prologue. 

KIND peer, who, mid the tempest of debate, 
Hast gladly wooed and won the Southern muse, 

Where, crowned with fruit and flower of mingling hues, 
She in a grove of myrtle keeps her state, 

This I had entered by a postern gate, 

Like stranger, who no certain path pursues, 

Or garden's lord, that hath his own to choose, 
Hadst thou not shewn a better entrance late : 

That portal led me to Morgana's * towers, 

Where fierce Orlando found the dame at play; 

And though, too fast for me, from fields of flowers, 
She flies to savage waste, and will not stay, 

It will content me but to paint her bowers, 
If this be granted by the scornful fay. 

William Stetvart Rose. 

* See the adventure of Morgana, the type of Fortune, who, 
flying from her garden into a wilderness, is taken by Orlando, 
Book II. 

A 3 

I 1 


IT is many years since I first entertained a 
vague idea of translating the Orlando Furioso, 
and circumstances of little importance to the 
reader, led me more recently to undertake it 
in earnest. This work was again laid down ; 
and afterwards resumed at the instance of a 
distinguished friend; and by an odd coinci- 
dence, I am indebted also to the suggestion of 
another eminent person for the idea of the 
present translation of the Orlando Innamorato, 
which, I should observe, is intended to be 
auxiliary to that, my first and greater under- 
taking, though I need scarcely say, that the story 


of Boiardo is a necessary prologue to the poem 
of Ariosto. 

It was my intention to have translated the 
first mentioned work, exactly upon the model 
adopted by Tressan in his version of the French 
romances, a scheme afterwards executed with 
so much better success, by my late excellent 
friend, Mr. George Ellis, in his English work 
of the same description. A further consider- 
ation of the subject, however, induced me to 
imitate them only in their general plan of illus- 
trating a compendious prose translation by 
extracts, without seeking to add poignancy to 
this, by what might give a false idea of the tone 
of my original. I recollected that I stood in a 
very different predicament from that of either 
of these authors; that, to compare my work 
with ihe one, which is most likely to be familiar 
to m\ readers, the ' Specimens of early English 
Romances,' the originals are composed in a 
spirit of gravity which can hardly be confused 


with the gay style of the translator, and there- 
fore nobody can be misled by the vein of plea- 
santry which runs through Mr. Ellis's work, 
and which is sure to be exclusively ascribed to 
the author of the Rifacimento. This, how- 
ever, would possibly not be the case with me, as 
the Innamorato is in a great measure a humour- 
ous work, of which I might give a false im- 
pression, by infusing into it a different species 
of wit, from that which distinguishes it; a 
consideration which induced me to adopt the 
scheme I have pursued in the following sheets. 
This project is to give a mere ground-plan 
of the Gothic edifice of Boiardo, upon a small 
scale, accompanied with some elevations and 
sections of the chambers ; which I have sought 
to colour after jny original : or, (to speak more 
plainly,) the reader is to look for the mere 
story in my prose abridgement, while he may 
form some notion of its tone and style, from 
the stanzas with which it is interspersed. 


The story indeed, which seems most likely 
to interest the English reader, is that which 
took a strong possession of the imagination of 
Milton, who refers with more apparent en- 
thusiasm to the Innamorato, than to the Furioso, 
and whose apparent preference is justifiable, 
if a richer stream of invention, and more con- 
summate art in its distribution, are legitimate 
titles to admiration. 

In this latter qualification more especially, 
Boiardo, however inferior as a poet, must be 
considered as a superior artist to Ariosto ; and 
weaving as complicated a web as his successor, 
it is curious to observe how much he excels him 
as a story-teller. The tales, indeed, of Ariosto, 
(and the want of connexion among these is, in 
my eyes, his most essential defect) are so many 
loose episodes, which may be compared to 
parallel streams, flowing towards one reser- 
voir, but through separate and independent 
channels. Those of Boiardo, on the contrary, 


are like waters, that, however they may 
diverge, preserve their relation to the parent 
river, to which their accession always seems 
necessary, and with which they reunite, pre- 
vious to its discharging its contents into their 
common resting-place. A short example may 
serve to illustrate what I have laid down. A 
damsel in the Innamorato relates to Rinaldo the 
adventures of two worthies named Iroldo and 
Prasildo, a narration which is interrupted, and 
which, though good in itself, at first appears to 
be an insulated episode. Rinaldo, however, after- 
wards falls in with Iroldo and his friend; and this 
history, thus resumed, unites itself naturally with 
that of the paladin. It is thus that all the 
stories are dove-tailed one into the other, and 
form a mosaic, as striking from the nice 
union of its parts, as from the brilliancy of its 

Boiardo's art, though here indeed he cannot 
be said to excel Ariosto, is as conspicuous also 


in the direction of the strange under-current of 
allegory which pervades his poem, as it is in 
the distribution of his stream of story ; while 
the sort of esoteric doctrines conveyed by it, 
gives a mysterious interest even to what we 
imperfectly comprehend. 

Such indeed is the case with many of the 
fables of the Odyssey, and even of the Iliad ; 
where the allegory, moreover, is always sub 
servient to poetry, and poetry is never made 
subservient to allegory. This remarkable 
piece of judgment in the Greek poet has, I 
think, been well imitated both by Boiardo and 
Ariosto, and it is the neglect of this principle 
which has made allegory so often offensive in 
the Faery Queene of Spenser. The obtrusive 
nature of this has been well compared by Mr. 
George Ellis, in his Specimens of the early Eng- 
lish poets, to a ghost in day-light. It is, more- 
over, destructive to all character; for Spenser's 
heroes being mere abstract personifications of 


some virtue or vice, we almost always know 
what they are to do, though their actions are 
often unnatural, if considered as the actions 
of human beings. Hence it is that we are 
never entertained with pictures of manners in 
the Faery Queen, while these form one of the 
great charms of the poems with which I am 
contrasting it. 

It may however be said with justice, that we are 
to ascribe this more picturesque effect of allegory, 
rather to the spirit of the age than to that of the 
fabulist. For it is perhaps true that all early 
fable is purely allegorical ; that this is by 
degrees mixed up with other circumstances, 
and it is in this mixed character that it is most 
conducive to poetical effect. But in a later age 
and later process of refinement, when there is 
a greater tendency to abstract, allegory is stript 
of her adventitious ornaments, and is at last 
forced upon us in poetry, painting, and sculp- 
ture, unveiled, or unencompassed by that sort 


of pleasing halo which is necessary to give her 

But whether we are to ascribe Boiardo's 
success in this particular to the character of his 
age, or to his own superior judgment, there is, I 
think, no doubt about the fact, and there is, I 
think, as little difficulty in conceding to my 
author, upon other grounds, the praise of skill 
in executing the singular work of which he was 
the architect. 

This extraordinary man was Matteo Maria 
Boiardo, count of Scandiano, and a native 
of Reggio in the Modenese, who flourished 
in the beginning of the sixteenth century. 
These are circumstances the more worthy 
of mention, as some of them tend to explain 
what may seem most strange in the com- 
position of the Innamorato ; such as the pro- 
vincial character of the diction, and more 
especially that careless and almost contemp- 
tuous tone between jest and earnest, which dis- 


tinguishes his poem. It is doubtless on this 
account that Ugo Foscolo observes, in an in- 
genious critique on the Italian romantic poets, 
in the Quarterly Review *, that he tells his story 
in the tone of a feudal baron ; thus applying to 
him more justly what M. de Balzac has ob- 
jected to another ; of whom he says, " qu'il 
s'est comporte dans son poe'rne comme un 
prince dans ses etats. C'est en vertu de cette 
souverainte qu'il ne reconnoit point les lois, 
et qu'il se met au dessus du droit commun." 

After speaking of the mode in which he ar- 
ranged his work, it is a natural transition to 
the substance with which Boiardo built. This 
shews strong internal evidence f of having been 

* In an article purporting to be a review of Whistlecrqft's 
poem, (now entitled The Monks and Giants,') and The Court and 
Parliament of Beasts. 

f- A single circumstance, which I cite, because it can be 
appreciated by every body, would convince me that such stories 
as are to be found in the Innamorato, were not the growth of 
Boiardo's century. No author of that age could have imagined 
the friendly ties of alliance and consanguinity between Chris- 
tians and paynims, though such fictions are justified by facts: 


taken, in the main, from the old French ro- 
mances of Charlemagne, or rather from Italian 
works, raised upon their foundation. Hoole 
mentions one of these, called Aspramonte, &c., 
of uncertain date, and we have the titles of two 
others, which were anterior to the Innam&rato, 
one called Li fat ft di Carlo Magno c del Pala- 
dini di Francia, printed in 1481; the other 
printed in 1491, and entitled La Historia real 
di Francici) die tratta deifatti dei Paladini e di 
Carlo Magno in sei libri. Some indeed would 
seem to deny that Boiardo had dug in these 
mines, and would wish us to believe, that he 
not only compounded but manufactured the 

thus we learn from Gibbon that like relations existed between 
Greeks and Turks, and (as we are informed by Mr. Lockhart, 
in the preface to his Spanish Ballads, a work which presents as 
striking pictures of manners as of passion) between Spaniards 
and Moors. Nor need such things surprise us, though the 
barriers which now separate Christian and Mahomedan, 
render them impossible. Nations are like individuals, and 
when they are brought into close and constant intercourse, of 
whatever kind, their passions, good or bad, must be kindled 
by the contact. 


materials with which he wrought. Such at least 
would appear to have been the drift of one, 
who observes that Agramant, Sacripant and 
Gradassso were names of certain of the vassals 
of Scandiano. But if he means to insinuate 
by this, that Boiardo was not also indebted to 
the other source for his fictions and characters, 
as well might a critic of to-day, contend that 
the author of the Monks and Giants., who writes 
under the name of Whistlecraft, had not bor- 
rowed the idea of their cause of quarrel from 
Pulci, because he has given ridiculous modern 
names to some of his giants; or that he had 
not taken the leaders amongst his dramatis 
persona from the romances of the Round Table, 
because he has conferred " two leopards' faces," 
that is, his own arms, on the single knight, 
who perishes in Sir Tristram's successful expe- 

But if Boiardo has apparently taken his 
principal fictions from the romances of Charle- 


magne, he has also resorted to other known 
quarries, and ransacked classical as well as 
romantic fable for materials. 

This edifice, so constructed, which Boiardo 
did not live to finish, soon underwent alteration 
and repairs. The first were made by Niccolo 
degli Agostini, and later in the same century 
a second and more celebrated rifacimento of 
it, from which this translation is composed, was 
produced by Francesco Berni; whose name 
has given a distinctive epithet to the style of 
poetry, in which he excelled, and of which he is 
vulgarly supposed to have been the inventor. 

This man was born of poor but noble parents, 
in a small town of Tuscany. He entered the 
church, to which he had evidently no dispo- 
sition, as a means of livelihood, and, though as 
unqualified for servitude as for the discharge of 
his clerical duties, spent the better part of his 
life in dependence. He appears, however, to 
have been blessed with a vein of cheerfulness, 


which, seconded by a lively imagination, ena- 
bled him to beguile the wearisome nature of 
occupations, which were uncongenial to him; 
and of this he has left many monuments in 
sonnets and pieces in terza rima, (styled in 
Italian capitoli,} consisting of satires and various 
species of ludicrous composition. The titles of 
many of these sufficiently attest their whim- 
sicality, such as his Capitoli sugli Orinali, sidle 
Anguille, his Eulogy of the Plague, &c. &c. 
But the mode in which he has handled this 
last subject, will give the best insight into the 
character of his humour. Having premised 
that different persons gave a preference to 
different seasons- as the poet to the spring, 
and the reveller to the autumn, he observes, 
that one may well like the season of flowers, or 
the other that of fruits ; but that, for his part, 
he preferred the time of plague. He then 
backs his predilection by a rehearsal of the 
advantages attending this visitation; observing 
a 2 


that a man is in such times free from solicitations 
of borrowers or creditors, and safe from dis- 
agreeable companions ; that he has elbow-room 
at church and market, and can then only be 
said to be in the full possession of his natural 
liberty. He has rung all sorts of changes on 
this theme, and nothing can be more humor- 
ous than his details. 

These are worked up with singular powers 
of diction, set off by great apparent facility of 
style, and are no less remarkable for music of 
rythm, richness of rhyme, and a happy boldness 
of expression. In this respect there is some ana- 
logy, though no likeness, between Berni and 
Dryden; and the real merits of both are there- 
fore imperfectly estimated by foreigners, and 
even by the generality of their own country- 
men. Many Italians, indeed, consider Berni 
as a mere buffoon, which the English reader 
will think less extraordinary, when he hears 


(as Lord Glenbervie * observes, I think, in his 
notes to Ricciardetto,) that such an opinion 
has been entertained in Italy, even with regard 
to Ariosto. 

Better reasons may seem to palliate such a 
mistake of the real poetical character of Berni, 
than of that of Ariosto. Some of these are of 
a general description, and others of a nature 
more peculiarly applicable to his case. We 
may observe, as to the first, that whoever in- 
dulges his wit, in whatever species of compo- 
sition, is usually misjudged; for wit, in the 
sight of the world, overlays all the other qua- 
lities of an author, in whatever act or pursuit 
he may be engaged. Thus a great English 
painter, single in his walk, and distinguished by 
his various powers, is looked upon by the mul- 

* I state this on Lord Glenbervie's sole authority, which is, 
however, a weighty one. Such an opinion was probably 
current when he first knew Italy ; but I should imagine it 
could hardly be entertained at present. 

a 3 


titude as a mere caricaturist, even where carica- 
ture is intended by him only as a foil to beauty ; 
and orators have for the same reason sunk into 
jesters in the opinion of the mob, though they 
may have been equally distinguished for argu- 
mentative discussion or pathetic effect. 

But other and more particular circumstances 
have tended to fix this character upon Berni. 
Few men have a delicate perception of familiar 
expression, and still fewer yet have a nice feeling 
of the delicacies of prosody, 

Untwisting all the links that tie 
The secret chain of harmony. 

Now it is for the bold, however dexterous, 
use of language, and rythm, that Berni is 
principally distinguished ; and hence, as the 
means through which he works are imperfectly 
understood by the majority of his readers, his 
object has been frequently mistaken. I should 


cite, in illustration of this, his description of a 
storm at sea, which has been often deemed 
burlesque, but in which the poet would be 
more justly considered as working a fine effect 
by unwonted means. 

Let us try this question by the rules of ana- 
logy. Men in all countries resemble one 
another in the main, and where they are not 
guided by a natural taste and judgment, lean 
upon some rule, which is to direct them as an 
infallible guide. Depending upon this, they 
seldom consider that it may be narrow, or of 
insufficient support. Thus an Englishman who 
has learned to think about verse, by the help 
of a few simple precepts *, which he believes 

* For example, there is no rule deemed more absolute, and 
yet there is none which admits more exceptions than the 
maxim forbidding a line of ten monosyllables. For mono- 
syllables, in French and English, are often such only to the 
eye, such words being frequently, in both languages, melted 
into each other. Hence many good English verses consist of 

a J- 


to be absolute, is taught to look upon the 
double rhyme as suited only to burlesque 
poetry. Yet Drummond's 

" Methought desponding nightingales did borrow, 
Plaint of my plaint, and sorrow of my sorrow ;" 

and the description of him, who 

" Saw with wonder, 
Vast magazines of ice and piles of thunder," * 

might be cited to prove what widely different 
effects are produced by the same weapon, as it 
s differently wielded. But, impressed with the 
notions of the laws of verse which I have speci- 
fied, that is, not knowing that almost all such 

ten words, as that of Dryden, which will be in the recollection 
of every body, 

" Arms and the man I sing, &c." 

and the French cite as beautiful a line of Racine, which 
is composed of twelve, 

" Lej ur n'est pas plus pur rjue k fond de moil civiir." 
* I quote from memory. 


metrical rules as have been alluded to, are 
merely conditional, some Italians *, and certain- 
ly, almost all English readers of Italian poetry, 
suppose the triple rhyme, (la rima sdrucciola] 
or dactyl, as it is called by us, to be as exclu- 
sively applied to ludicrous composition in Ita- 
lian, as the double rhyme is imagined to be 
in English ; and this is perhaps one cause why 
some of Berni's stanzas, which abound in triple 
rhymes, have been so utterly misconceived in 
England. Yet Berni and Ariosto have fre- 
quently employed the versi sdruccioli where 
they have aimed at a bold or pathetic effect, 
though they have also undoubtedly been used 
by them to heighten that of comic or sati- 
rical composition. Caro the cotemporary of 
Berni is even profuse of triple rhymes in his 
translation of the JEneid ; lyric poets, after the 

Thus Goldoni in one of his comedies introduces a man 
improvising in triple rhymes for the sake of producing a 
ludicrous effect. Goldoui, however, 'it must be confessed,] 
is no authority in questions of language or of versification. 


example of Chiabrera, often insert them in 
the sublimest of their odes ; and one, who 
lately died full of years, managed the rime 
sdrucciole so easily, as to compose whole poems 
with them, and with such dignity, both of 
versification and expression, as (in the opinion 
of a distinguished Italian friend already cited) 
to vie with Tasso and Petrarch. 

Now let a man keep such doctrines in mind ; 
let him come to the consideration of Berni's 
storm with a memory imbued with the sights 
and sounds seen and heard in one ; let him 
consider all circumstances of metre, not abso- 
lutely, but conditionally ; that is, in their relation 
to each other and the thing described, and he 
will then, I believe, enter into the real spirit in 
which the poet executed this description, and 
contemplate him with very different eyes from 
those with which he viewed him before. 

Another cause of misconception, to which 
I have already alluded, has probably more 


misled the mob of readers of Italian poetry, 
natives as well as foreigners. I mean the lan- 
guage of Berni ; and as to this, certainly few 
very few, are capable of appreciating his skill, or 
even of making out his track. There is indeed, 
I believe, no poet of any country, who has at- 
tempted so difficult a flight; a flight of unwearied 
wing, struck out with courage, and maintained 
only by the most incessant exertion and care. 

Traces of these are seen in what may be 
called the charts on which he has pricked out 
his course, and which, I understand, witness 
as much to his diligence, as Ariosto's attest 
the care with which he accomplished his most 
extraordinary voyage. The documents to 
which I allude, are the original MSS. of 
the Innamorato, preserved at Brescia. As I 
was ignorant of the existence of these, during 
two residences which I made in Italy, I can only 
speak of them on the testimony of others ; but 
an Italian critic, whom I have often quoted, and 


from whose authority upon such points I would 
almost say there was no appeal, once assured me 
these are as much blotted as those of Ariosto at 
Ferrara; and that Berni seems to have usually 
clothed his thoughts in ornate language at first, 
which he rejected on after-consideration, simpli- 
fying, but at the same time improving, his diction, 
as he proceeded, till he arrived at that exquisite 
happiness of expression, that curiosa felicitas, 
which makes his principal charm. It is hence 
that he is the most untranslatable of authors ; 
since in copying him, it is not only a question 
of imitating colours, but the fine and more 
elaborate touches of a peculiar pencil. 

While, however, it is clear that the versi- 
fication and diction make the great charms of 
the Innamorato) these beauties should not throw 
his other excellencies into shade ; and the open- 
ings of the different cantos, which he has en- 
grafted on the original work of Boiardo, some- 
times original, and sometimes imitated from 


the older poets, are not greatly inferior to those 
which Ariosto has prefixed to the several cantos 
of the Furioso, in imitation of him ; no, not even 
in the higher claims of poetical merit. 

These sometimes consist of moral reflections, 
arising out of the narrative ; and the following 
may remind the reader of one of those little 
gems scattered through the plays of Shak- 
speare : 

Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed, 

Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion. 
'Tis petty larceny. Not such his deed 
Who robs us of our fame, our best possession ; 
And he who takes our labour's worthiest meed, 
May well be deemed a felon by profession ; 
Who so much more our hate and scourge de- 
As from the rule of right he wider swerves. 

Sometimes indulging in a declamation against 
vices or follies, he makes his satire more poig- 
nant by allusions to some prevalent practice of 


the day: thus, in a sally against avarice, he 
attacks those who masqued it under the dis- 
guise of hypocrisy in the following stanza : 

This other, under show of an adviser 

And practiser of what is strict and right; 
But being in effect a rogue and miser, 
Cloisters a dozen daughters out of sight : 
And fain would have the pretty creatures wiser 
Than their frail sisters ; but mistakes them quite ; 
For they are like the rest, and set the group 
Of monks, and priests, and abbots, cock-a-hoop. 

The following extract, illustrating a philoso- 
phical dogma of his age, taken from the opening 
of the forty-sixth canto, is of another description, 
and may serve as a specimen of the variety of 
his vein, and the odd ingenuity with which he 
winds in and out of his argument ; sometimes 
bearing up for his harbour when in the middle 
of a digression ; and then, when he seems to 
feel himself sure of a retreat, indulging in a 


new sally, in which he however never entirely 
loses sight of his port. 


He who the name of little world applied 
To man, in this approved his subtle wit: 
Since, save it is not round, all things beside 
Exactly with this happy symbol fit ; 
And I may say that long and deep, and wide 
And middling, good and bad, are found in it. 
Here too, the various elements combined 
Are dominant ; snow, rain, and mist and wind. 


Now clear, now overcast. 'Tis there its land 
Will yield no fruit ; here bears a rich supply : 
As the mixt soil is marie, or barren sand ; 
And haply here too moist, or there too dry. 
Here foaming hoarse, and there with murmur 


Streams glide, or torrents tumble from on high. 
Such of man's appetites convey the notion : 
Since these are infinite, and still in motion. 



Two solid dikes the invading streams repel, 
The one is Reason, and the other Shame. 
The torrents, if above their banks they swell, 
Wit and discretion are too weak to tame. 
The crystal waters, which so smoothly well, 
Are appetites of things, devoid of blame. 
Those winds, and rains, and snows, and night, 

and day, 
Ye learned clerks, divine them as ye may. 


Among these elements, misfortune wills 

Our nature should have most of earth : for she, 
Moved by what influence heaven or sun instils, 
Is subject to their power; nor less are we. 
In her, this star or that, in barren hills 
Produces mines in rich variety : 
And those who human nature wisely scan 
May this discern peculiarly in man. 


Who would believe that various minerals grew, 
And many metals, in our rugged mind ; 
From gold to nitre ? Yet the thing is true ; 
But, out, alas ! the rub is how to find 
This ore. Some letters and some wealth pursue, 
Some fancy steeds, some dream, at ease reclined ; 
These song delights, and those the cittern's 

Such are the mines which in our world abound. 


As these are worthier, more or less, so they 

Abound with lead or gold ; and practised wight, 

The various soil accustomed to survey, 

Is fitted best to find the substance bright. 

And such in our Apulia is the way 

They heal those suffering from the spider's bite ; 

Who strange vagaries play, like men possessed ; 

Tarantulated *, as 'tis there express'd. 

* The Tarantula is now known to be harmless. The cause 
of its supposed mischievous effects, and the efficacy of the 
mode of curing them are perhaps easily explained. People 




For this, 'tis needful, touching sharp or flat, 

To seek a sound which may the patients please ; 
Who, when they find the merry music pat, 
Dance till they sweat away the foul disease. 
And thus who should allure this man or that, 
And still with various offer tempt and tease, 
I wot, in little time, would ascertain 
And sound each different mortal's mine and vein. 

are in all countries (though they are imagined to be peculiarly 
so in England) exposed to attacks of melancholy, which arise 
out of some physical cause, whether indigestion, or other 
bodily complaint. The doctors of Calabria attributed this to the 
sting of the tarantula, which is assuredly not more extravagant 
than a popular English medical author's ascribing jaundice to 
the bite of a mad dog. The patient, delighted to find a cause for 
his complaint, was easily, by leading questions, brought to recol- 
lect that he had, at some time or other, felt a prick, which pro- 
bably proceeded from the sting of a tarantula. Dancing was 
the remedy prescribed ; and this, as exciting the animal spirits, 
fee. may very well have operated a cure of the real disease. 
The patients were to be played to, as Berni states, till a tune 
was struck which pleased their fancy, and animated them to 
exertion. The Tarantella, an air supposed to be particularly 
stimulating in such a case, is still a popular dance in the south 
of Italy. Modern philosophers have found out that the 
tarantula has no venom. 



'Twos so Brunello with Rogero wrought, 
Who offered him the armour and the steed. 
Thus by the cunning Greek his aid was bought, 
Who laid fair Ilion smoking on the mead. 
Which was of yore in clearer numbers taught ; 
Nor shall I now repeat upon my reed, 
Who from the furrow let my plough-share stray, 
Unheeding how the moments glide away. 


As the first pilot by the shore did creep, 

Who launched his boat upon the billows dark, 
And where the liquid ocean was least deep, 
And without sails impelled his humble barque ; 
But seaward next, where foaming waters leap, 
By little and by little steered his ark, 
With nothing but the wind and stars to guide, 
And round about him glorious wonders spied. 

b 2 



Thus I, who still have sung a humble strain, 
And kept my little barque within its bounds, 
Now find it fit to launch into the main, 
And sing the fearful warfare, which resounds 
Where Africa pours out her swarthy train, 
And the wide world with mustered troops 

abounds ; 

And, fanning fire and forge, each land and nation 
Sends forth the dreadful note of preparation. 

THE next extract I shall give, though it com- 
mences with his favourite figure of the barque, 
will serve as a specimen of a different style. 
It forms the opening of the second book. 
The two first lines the reader will trace to 
Dante, and will find in the remainder a trans- 
lation of the JEneadum Genetrix of Lucretius. 



Launched on a deeper sea, my pinnace, rear 
Thy sail, prepared to plough the billows dark ; 
And you, ye lucid stars, by whom I steer 
My feeble vessel to its destined mark, 
Shine forth upon her course benign and clear, 
And beam propitious on the daring barque 
About to stem an ocean so profound : 
While I your praises and your works resound. 


O, holy mother of JEneas ! O, 
Daughter of Jove ! thou bliss of gods above 
And men beneath ; VENUS, who makest grow 
Green herb and plant, and fillest all with love ; 
Thou creatures that would else be cold and 


Dost with thy sovereign instinct warm and move, 
Thou dost all jarring things in peace unite 
The world's eternal spirit, life and light. 
b 3 



At thine appearance storm and rain have ceased, 
And zephyr has unlocked the genial ground ; 
Leap the wild herds ; 'tis wanton nature's feast, 
And the green woods with singing birds resound ; 
While by strange pleasure stung, the savage beast 
Lives but for love ; what time their greenwood 


All creatures rove, or couch upon the sward, 
Discord and hate forgot, in sweet accord. 


Thee, kind and gentle star ! thy suppliant prays ; 
To thee I sue by every bolt which flies 
Thro' the fifth planet*, melting with thy rays, 
When panting on thy lap the godhead lies, 
And lock'd within thine arms, with upward gaze, 
Feeds on thy visage his desiring eyes : 
That thou wilt gain for me his grace, and grown 
Propitious, with his grace accord thine own. 

* Mars. 



Since 'tis of thee I sing, as I have said, 

And only of thy praise and pleasures dream ; 
Well pleased I to this fruitful field was led, 
And sure I could not choose a sweeter theme. 
Thou too, that down thy clear and ample bed 
Dost run with grateful murmur, RAPID STREAM, 
Awhile from thine impetuous course refrain, 
While on thy banks I tune my mingled strain. 

In the concluding address to the river, he 
apostrophizes the Adige, on whose banks he 
might be said to be writing, as he was then 
living hi the town of Verona, which is watered 
by it, in the service of the Cardinal di Bib- 

One more specimen of his poetical prefaces, 

and I have done. It is the introduction to his 

third book ; and in this too the reader, who 

will recognize a passage of the ars poetica of 

b 4 


Horace, may observe how well Berni translates 
and applies his classical recollections. 


As they, who their unhappy task fulfil 

In mines of England, Hungary, and Spain, 
The deeper that they dig the mountain, still 
Find richer treasure and securer gain ; 
And as wayfaring man who climbs a hill, 
Surveys, as he ascends, a wider plain, 
And shores and oceans open on his eye, 
Exalted nearer to the starry sky : 


So in this book, indited for your pleasure, 
If you believe and listen to my lore, 
You, in advancing, shall discern new treasure, 
And catch new lights and landscapes evermore. 
Then by no former scale my promise measure, 
Nor judge this strain by that which went before: 
Since still my caves and rugged rocks unfold 
A richer vein of jewels, pearls, and gold. 



And he who winds about my mountain's side, 
Still spies new lands and seas, a glorious sight, 
If patient industry and courage guide 
Him from the valley to the frowning height. 
Like prospect was the poet's who supplied 
Flame out of smoke, instead of smoke from light ; 
With wise Ulysses' acts to fill our ears, 
To the more wonderment of him who hears. 

So much for the poetry of Berni. His life 
was not such as reflected any lustre on his 
works. This, if we reject some foul imputa- 
tions cast upon him, was, to say the least of it, 
disreputable. It is, however, certain, that being 
at last established in a canonry at Florence, 
he lived there in high and accomplished society. 
This fact, however, in a profligate age, like that 
in which he flourished, proves nothing in his 


favour ; and, it' we listened to the stories of his 
biographers, we might suppose him even to 
have been courted for some of his vicious pro- 
pensities : for one of these writers tells us he 
was excited by the cardinal Ippolito de' Medici 
to poison the duke Alexander, against whom 
he had a private pique; another, would have 
us believe that he was tempted by the duke to 
poison the cardinal ; and (to complicate the 
matter yet more) that the cardinal or the duke, 
or both, had poison administered to Berni 
himself, upon his refusal. The dates, how- 
ever, of their respective deaths, are at variance 
with these strange assertions ; and if such 
certain means of contradiction were wanting, 
the internal evidence of Berni's character, how- 
ever vicious, might be almost sufficient to refute 
such improbable calumnies. It may be said, 
indeed, that perhaps no one was ever selected 
as a probable agent of guilt, who seems to have 


been so little capable of engaging in the sort 
of crimes which were expected of him. 

As a proof of this we might almost refer to 
the picture which he has given of himself, and 
which carries with it every warrant of resem- 
blance. In one of the cantos of the last book 
of the Innamorato, he describes a number of 
persons as having become the victims of a 
tairy, of whom they afterwards remain the 
voluntary prisoners. Among these he has, 
in imitation of certain painters, introduced him- 
self with another known character of the day : 
a circumstance which, together with the nature 
of the episode, might lead one to suspect 
that Thomson was indebted to this fiction for 
his Castle of Indolence. He has, however, 
given the tenants of his " bowers of ease," a 
character so much more intellectual than that 
of Berni's actors, that he may very fairly pretend 
to the praise of original composition, even if his 


work be an imitation instead of a mere acci- 
dental coincidence; which I am more tempted 
to believe.* But I draw the curtain of Berni's 

* I do not recollect any authority for Thomson's having 
been conversant with Italian poetry ; and I think that a view 
of his works would lead to a contrary supposition. Thus I 
should say that though no man could copy what he actually 
saw with a nicer hand or eye, no man had more need of study 
in the Italian school of ideal picture than this English poet. 
Jn his drawings from nature his colouring is as inimitable as 
his design ; and his bird, who 

" Shivers every feather with desire," 

is painted with the precision as well as the force of the Flemish 
pencil. Yet he has personified Autumn as 

" Crowned u-ith the sickle and the wheaten sheaf," 

thus putting on his head what should have been in his hand, 
and presenting us a ludicrous figure surmounted by a " crum- 
pled horn." No Italian poet would have painted from nature 
with Thomson's marvellous precision; and no Italian poet 
would have committed such gross offences against propriety as 
he has, in his imaginary pictures. 



A boon companion to increase this crew 
By chance, a gentle Florentine, was led ; 
A Florentine, altho' the father who 
Begot him, in the Casentine was bred ; 
Who nigh become a burgher of his new 
Domicile, there was well content to wed ; 
And so in Bibbiena wived, which ranks 
Among the pleasant towns on Arno's banks. " 


At Lamporecchio, he of whom I write 

Was born, for dumb Masetto * fam'd of yore, 
Thence roam'd to Florence ; and in piteous plight 
There sojourned till nineteen, like pilgrim poor ; 
And shifted thence to Rome, with second flight 
Hoping some succour from a kinsman's store ; 
A cardinal allied to him by blood, 
And one that neither did him harm nor good. 
* See Boccaccio. 



He to the nephew passed, this patron dead, 
Who the same measure as his uncle meted ; 
And then again in search of better bread, 
With empty bowels from his house retreated ; 
And hearing, for his name and fame were spread, 
The praise of one who serv'd the pope repeated, 
And in the Roman court Datario hight, 
He hired himself to him to read and write. 


This trade the unhappy man believed he knew; 
But this belief was, like the rest, a bubble, 
Since he could never please the patron, who 
Fed him, nor ever once was out of trouble. 
The worse he did, the more he had to do, 
And only made his pain and penance double : 
And thus, with sleeves and bosom stuffed with 

Wasted his wits, and lived oppressed with vapours. 



Add for his mischief (whether 'twas his little 
Merit, misfortune, or his want of skill) 
Some cures he farmed produced him not a tittle, 
And only were a source of plague and ill. 
Fire, water, storm, or devil, sacked vines and 


Whether the luckless wretch would tythe or till. 
Some pensions too, which he possessed, were 

And, like the rest, produced him not a groat. 


This notwithstanding, he his miseries slighted, 
Like happy man, who not too deeply feels ; 
And all, but most the Roman lords, delighted, 
Content in spite of tempests, writs, or seals, 
And oftentimes, to make them mirth, recited 
Strange chapters upon urinals and eels ; * 
And other mad vagaries would rehearse, 
That he had hitched, Heaven help him ! into verse. 

* See his Cajntoli sugli Orinali, Sulk dtiqitille, etc. 



His mood was choleric, and his tongue was vicious, 
But he was praised for singleness of heart ; 
Not taxed as avaricious or ambitious, 
Affectionate, and frank, and void of art ; 
A lover of his friends, and unsuspicious ; 
But where he hated, knew no middle part ; 
And men his malice by his love might rate : 
But then he was more prone to love than hate. 


To paint his person, this was thin and dry ; 
Well sorting it, his legs were spare and lean ; 
Broad was his visage, and his nose was high, 
While narrow was the space that was between 
His eye-brows sharp ; and blue his hollow eye, 
Which for his bushy beard had not been seen, 
But that the master kept this thicket clear'd, 
At mortal war with moustache and with board. 



No one did ever servitude detest 

Like him ; though servitude was still his dole : 
Since fortune or the devil did their best 
To keep him evermore beneath controul. 
While, whatsoever was his patron's hest, 
To execute it went against his soul ; 
His service would he freely yield, unasked, 
But lost all heart and hope, if he were tasked. 


Nor musick, hunting-match, nor mirthful measure, 
Nor play, nor other pastime moved him aught; 
And if 'twas true that horses gave him pleasure, 
The simple sight of them was all he sought, 
Too poor to purchase ; and his only treasure 
His naked bed : his pastime to do nought 
But tumble there, and stretch his weary length, 
And so recruit his spirits and his strength, 



Worn with the trade he long was used to slave in, 
So heartless and so broken down was he ; 
He deemed he could not find a readier haven, 
Or safer port from that tempestuous sea ; 
Nor better cordial to recruit his craven 
And jaded spirit, when he once was free, 
Than to betake himself to bed, and do 
Nothing, and mind and matter so renew. 


On this as on an art, he would dilate, 

In good set terms, and styled his bed a vest, 
Which, as the wearer pleased, was small or 


And of whatever fashion liked him best ; 
A simple mantle, or a robe of state ; 
With that a gown of comfort and of rest : 
Since whosoever slipt his daily clothes 
For this, put off with these all worldly woes. 



He by the noise and lights and music jaded 
Of that long revel, and the tramp and tread, 
(Since every guest in his desires was aided, 
And knaves performed their will as soon as said,) 
Found out a chamber which was uninvaded, 
And bade those varlets there prepare a bed, 
Garnished with bolsters and with pillows fair, 
At its four borders, and exactly square. 


This was six yards across by mensuration, 

With sheets and curtains bleached by wave and 


With a silk quilt for farther consolation, 
And all things fitting else : tho' hard to please, 
Six souls therein had found accommodation 
But this man sighed for elbow-room and ease, 
And here as in a bed was fain to swim, 
Extending at his pleasure length and limb, 
c 2 



By chance with him, to join the fairy's train, 
A Frenchman and a cook was thither brought ; 
One that had served in court with little gain, 
Though he with sovereign care and cunning 


For him, prepared with sheet and counterpane, 
Another bed was, like his fellow's, sought : 
And 'twixt the two, sufficient space was seen 
For a fair table to be placed between. 


Upon this table, for the pair to dine, 

Were savoury viands piled, prepared with art ; 
All ordered by this master-cook divine ; 
Boiled, roast, ragouts and jellies, paste and tart : 
But soups and syrups pleased the Florentine, 
Who loathed fatigue like death, and for his part, 
Brought neither teeth nor fingers into play ; 
But made two varlets feed him as he lay 



Here couchant, nothing but his head was spied, 
Sheeted and quilted to the very chin ; 
And needful food a serving man supplied 
Thro' pipe of silver, placed the mouth within. 
Meantime the sluggard moved no part beside, 
Holding all motion else were shame and sin ; 
And (so his spirits and his health were broke) 
Not to fatigue this organ, seldom spoke. 


The cook was master Peter hight, and he 
Had tales at will to while away the day ; 
To him the Florentine : " Those fools, pardie, 

" Have little wit, who dance that endless Hay ;" 
And Peter in return, " I think with thee." 
Then with some merry story backed the say ; 
Swallowed a mouthful and turned round in bed ; 
And so, by starts, talked, turned, and slept, and 



And so the time these careless comrades cheated, 
And still, without a change, ate, drank, and slept 
Nor by the calendar their seasons meeted, 
Nor register of days or sennights kept : 
No dial told the passing hours, which fleeted, 
Nor bell was heard ; nor servant overstept 
The threshold (so the pair proclaimed their will) 
To bring them tale or tidings, good or ill. 


Above all other curses, pen and ink 

Were by the Tuscan held in hate and scorn ; 

Who, worse than any loathsome sight or stink, 

Detested pen and paper, ink and horn : 

So deeply did a deadly venom sink, 

So festered in his flesh a rankling thorn; 

While, night and day, with heart and garments 

Seven weary years the wretch in writing spent. 



Of all their ways to baffle time and tide, 

This seems the strangest of their waking dreams : 
Couched on their back, the two the rafters eyed, 
And taxed their drowsy wits to count the beams ; 
"Tis thus they mark at leisure, which is wide, 
Which short, or which of due proportion seems ; 
And which worm-eaten are, and which are sound, 
And if the total sum is odd or round. * 

Having in the preceding part of this intro- 
duction, given some account of the mode in 
which I have executed my task as a translator, 
it may be expected that I should give some 
information respecting my labours as an editor. 
To speak frankly, I have none to give : having 
annexed no commentary, or, at least, nothing- 
worthy of being called a commentary, to this 

* I have already given a loose translation of this part of 
Berni's acccount of himself in the Court of Bensts. 


work. Some readers may, perhaps, think I 
have in this neglected my duty, and reproach 
me with not having pointed out the sources 
from which many of the fictions in the Innamo- 
rato are borrowed, or at least the points of 
resemblance which may be found between many 
of these and other ancient stories. It appeared, 
however, to me, that my readers were as likely 
as myself to be conversant with incidents to be 
found in the Spectator, Persian Talcs, Arabian 
Nighfs, and Bibltotheque Orientate. Others 
who will, perhaps, thank me for sparing them 
such a display of common-place knowledge 
may, however, think I have erred in having 
done nothing to illustrate the allegory of the 
Innamorato. If I have not, the omission has 
arisen from a conviction of the inutility of 
such an attempt. I have read much that has 
been written upon the allegory of the Furioso, 
yet never met with any explanation of it, 
which I considered as satisfactory to myself, 


though I was persuaded that the commentators 
were right. Holding obscurity to be one 
source of the sublime in this branch of ima- 
gination, though I will not venture to extend 
the position further, it appears to me that 
the reader always best fills up an indistinct 
outline, according to his own fancy, and is 
more likely to derive pleasure from doing so, 
than from a solution which usually presents 
him with something very different from 
what he had preconceived. It is this con- 
sideration which has restrained me from doing- 


more than throwing out a few ideas which sug- 
gested themselves on some parts of Boiardo's 
allegory, and no wish to avoid any trouble 
which I might have thought satisfactorily be- 
stowed on it. Still less have I been influenced 
by any fear of that ridicule which is so readily 
discharged upon Italian commentators, or those 
who report their lucubrations ; for I can safely 
say, that I should have pursued the research to 


which I have alluded, if I had thought I could 
have done so with any satisfaction to myself, 
though I had met with no better recompence 
than that of being compared to the ass who 
carried off the dead body of the sphynx, after 
her enigma had been unriddled, and she herself 
slain by CEdipus. 


Page xlviii. 5th line of Stanza 43., lake out the semicolon 

after "eye-brows," and place it after "sharp." 
li. 7th line of Stanza 49., for " bed" read " sea." 
5. line 8th from bottom, for " But" read " Yet." 
71. line 1st, after " army" read " that." 





Gradasso, king of Sericane, meditates the invasion of 
France, in order to obtain Bayardo and Durindana. In the 
mean time Charlemagne is holding a court plenar at Paris ; 
where the appearance of Angelica excites much confusion 
amid the assembled knights. She returns towards her own 
kingdom, pursued by Orlando and Rinaldo. Rinaldo having, 
however, drunk of the waters of Disdain, while she has unfor- 
tunately tasted those of Love, is seized with loathing for the 
damsel, and is, in his turn, followed in vain by her, whom he 
before pursued. He is now sent by Charlemagne in defence 
of Marsilius, king of Spain, whose territories were invaded 
by Gradasso. in his progress towards France. He is here 
separated from his army by a device of Malagigi, his own 
brother, who is become the tool of Angelica, and his troops, 
left without their leader, return home. Marsilius, in conse- 
quence of this desertion, buys peace of Gradasso, by assisting 
him in his invasion of France. Here Charlemagne and his 

paladins are made prisoners in a thorough rout of the Chris- 
tian army. Gradasso, however, offers him peace and liberty 
for himself and followers, on the delivery of Bayardo, who 
had been brought back from Spain by the French troops, and 
on his promise to send him Durindana as soon as it is in his 
power. Charlemagne of course consents, and sends to Paris 
for the horse. This is, however, refused by Astolpho, who had 
taken upon himself the government of the city, and who sends 
a defiance to Gradasso. They meet, and the Indian king is 
unhorsed, who, in compliance with the conditions of a previous 
agreement, frees his prisoners and returns to Sericana. As- 
tolpho, too, dissatisfied with the conduct of Charlemagne, de- 
parts from France. He now enrolls himself amongst the de- 
fenders of Angelica, besieged by Agrican in Albracca, in which 
warfare he is made prisoner; Orlando, with other puissant 
knights, takes the same side, and slays Agrican in single com- 
bat. On the other part, Rinaldo (whose hatred to Angelica 
equals his former love) joins the camp of the besiegers, and a 
desperate battle is fought between him and Orlando. Ange- 
lica, however, still enamoured of Rinaldo, separates them and 
dispatches Orlando upon a perilous quest. Many other ad- 
ventures are achieved by these and other knights, and many 
episodes are connected with the two principal actions of the 
book, viz. the invasion of France, and the war before 


THE story says that there reigned formerly in 
parts beyond India, a mighty monarch, who was 
moreover so valiant and powerful in war that no 
one could stand against him ; he was named 
Gradasso ; he had the face and heart of a dra- 
gon, and was in stature a giant. But, as it 
often happens to the greatest and to the richest, 
to long for what they cannot have, and thus to 
lose what they already possess, this king could 
not rest content without Durindana the sword 
of Orlando, and Bayardo the horse of Rinaldo. 
To obtain which, he determined to war upon 
France, and for this expedition chose one hun- 
dred and fifty thousand horsemen. 
B 2 


But the author suspends the further mention 
of this monarch, of whom we shall soon again 
hear, to speak of Charlemagne, who had or- 
dered magnificent jousts, and summoned thither 
all and singular his barons. And to this 
court plenar, besides his paladins, and greater 
and lesser vassals of the crown, were bid all 
strangers, baptized or infidel, then sojourning 
at Paris. Amongst the guests were the* giant 
Grandonio, Ferrau, the king Balugantes, a 
relation of Charlemagne, Isolier and Serpen- 
tin, who were companions, and many others. 

And now was the day when the great festival 
was to begin with a sumptuous banquet, made 
by Charlemagne, who assisted at it in his royal 
robes, and entertained, between Christians and 
Pagans, twenty-two thousand and thirty guests. 

The tables, spread right and left, were or- 
dered with due discrimination. At the first 
were seated the kings of Christendom, an Eng- 
lish, a Lombard, and a Breton to wit, Otho, 


Desiderius, and Salomon : and next these all 
others, according to their dignity and the 
esteem in which they were held. At the second 
table were placed the dukes and marquisses ; 
and at the third, the counts and simple knights. 
Those of the house of Maganza were especially 
honoured, and above all the others, Gano of 
Poictiers. Rinaldo saw this with eyes of fire ; 
the more so that these traitors, laughing amongst 
themselves, were mocking him as not equally 
distinguished by the king. Accordingly we are 

But while his heart with smothered fury beats, 
He feigns to trifle with the cups and glasses : 
But, inly murmuring, to himself repeats 
" False, ribald crew ! before to-morrow passes, 
" This arm shall prove if you can keep your seats ; 
" Spawn of a nest of vipers, idiots, asses ! 
" And well I wot to have you on the hip, 
" Unless my weapon swerve, or courser slip." 

B 3 


King Balugantes marked his discontent, 

And reading, as he weened, his secret thought, 
To him his trucheman with a message sent, 
To wot if it was true, as he was taught, 
That honour, not by worth and wisdom went, 
But in this Christian court was sold and bought : 
That he a stranger and a Turk, if true, 
Might render each and all the honour due. 

The good Ilinaldo smiled, and to the sable 

Reporter of the royal message said, 
" To solve the question, as I best am able, 
" (If I in rules of court am rightly read,) 
" Honour and place to glutton at the table 
" Are duly yielded, as to dame in bed ; 
" But in the field, where warriors spur their steeds, 
" The worth of man is measured by his deeds." 

While this conversation is passing, music sounds; 
the meats are served up, and the feast is com- 


menced with all the pomp and circumstance of 
chivalric magnificence. 

In the middle of this their merriment, four 
giants enter the further end of the hall, having 
between them a damsel of incomparable beauty, 
attended by a single knight. Many ladies (some 
of whose names are specified) were seated at the 
different tables : but all were outshone by the 
beautiful stranger. The Christians, lords or 
simple knights, swarm about the damsel, and 
every Pagan is in an instant on his feet. She 
smiles upon all; but forthwith addresses herself 
to Charlemagne. After a complimentary preface, 
" Sir King," said the damsel, " before I show 
" the motive which has brought us hither, learn 
" that this knight is my brother Uberto, and 
" that I am his sister, Angelica; both of us 
" banished without reason from the paternal 
" mansion. Upon the Tanais, where we dwelt, 
'* two hundred days' journey from hence, news 
B 4- 


" were brought us of this feast ; and we have 
" traversed so many provinces to see your mag- 
" nificence, and, if possible, to gain the wreath 
" of roses, which is said to be the guerdon of 
" the jousts. 

" For this purpose, my brother awaits all 
" comers, Christian or Saracen, at the stair of 
" Merlin * ; it being premised that the war is to 
" be conducted on the following conditions : 
" Whoever is unseated in the tilt, shall be 
" allowed no further course or trial, but remain 

* It may be observed, that the abode of Merlin and the tomb 
of Merlin are always placed by the first romancers, to wit, 
those of the Round Table, in Britain ; and their constantly lay- 
ing their scene in our island, and choosing their actors from 
thence, has led M. de la Rue, and after him, Mr. George Ellis, 
to suppose that these earliest romancers were subjects of 
English kings, who wrote for the amusement of their court, 
the language of which was Norman. The romancers, however, 
who celebrated Charlemagne, and who were doubtless French, 
very naturally chose their heroes from France, and transferred 
the scene to that country. To these, I have already said, that 
Boiardo and Ariosto are mainly indebted for their fictions. 


" the prisoner of him by whom he was un- 
" horsed: while whoever flings my brother 
" shall have me for his reward; and Uberto 
" shall depart with his giants." 

She remains kneeling awhile before Charles, 
as waiting his answer. All behold the damsel 
in mute admiration; but, above all, Orlando, ap- 
proaching her with downcast eyes, gives the first 
signs of the passion which was destined to be 
his ruin. While Orlando is thus love-stricken, 
he is not single in his folly ; and even the grey- 
haired Namus, and Charles himself, participate 
in it. But, while these and all the rest gaze 
upon her in silence, Ferrau is so transported 
with passion as to be about to snatch her up in 
his arms, and transport her away from the 
presence. Respect for Charlemagne, however, 
restrains him. While this is passing, Malagigi, 
brother to Rinaldo, a puissant magician, closely 
observes the strangers, and reads in them some 


mysterious purpose, different from what they 
pretended to be the object of their expedition. 
Charlemagne had now recovered from his em- 
barrassment sufficiently to speak, and plied 
Angelica with different subjects of discourse, 
for the purpose of detaining her ; but at length, 
not being able to prolong the interview with 
decency, gave her a dismissal by according the 

The damsel has scarce left the city, when 

Still fearing for the king, and full of care, 
Flies to his book, retiring from the revel, 
To know the secret purpose of the pair, 
And at what aim the knight and damsel level. 
He reads ; and, as he reads, in upper air 
Is heard a voice, and next appears a devil, 
Who bids, in haughty tone, the wise magician 
Proclaim his will, and give him his dismission. 


Malagigi having proposed his questions, the 
fiend informs him that Angelica is an enemy 
come to put a notable scorn upon Charlemagne, 
and that her father, who is an ancient Indian 
king, called Galaphron, of Catay, has dispatched 
her for this object, accompanied by her brother, 
Argalia, and not Uberto, as she falsely desig- 
nated him : that she is full of malice, and read 
in every sort of magic, whilst her brother is as 
valiant in arms, gifted with a courser of mar- 
vellous swiftness, and armed with an enchanted 
lance : the virtue of this is such, that no 
knight (no, not even Orlando or Rinaldo) 
could resist its push ; nor are his other arms 
inferior to his spear. To this; he has re- 
ceived from his father a ring, which, when on 
the finger, makes enchantment of no effect, and 
when placed between the lips renders the wear- 
er invisible. Galaphron, it is added, reckons 
much upon these gifts, but yet more upon the 


beauty of his daughter. Hence he has dis- 
patched Argalia with the damsel, in trust, that 
she shall entice the Paladins into duel with her 
brother, who, unhorsing them, will send them 
prisoners to Catay. Malagigi is much disturbed 
at the devil's news, and determines to seek the 
damsel in person, and frustrate her design. 
Argalia was already reposing himself under a 
fair pavilion, pitched near the stair of Merlin, 

Angelica beneath a pine was sleeping, 

Her long light tresses scattered on the grass, 
Beside a limpid font, whose waters, leaping, 
Fell back into a pool as clear as glass. 
A giant had the damsel in his keeping, 
Who might for a reposing angel pass. 
Her brother's ring the sleeping lady wore, 
Whose hidden virtues were described before. 


False Malagigi, borne on fiendish steed, 

Meantime through fields of air in silence swept ; 
And now, dismounting on the flow'ry mead, 
Approached the weary damsel where she slept, 
By that grim giant watched, who, for her need, 
Good guard upon the sleeping lady kept, 
While others of her following paced the sward, 
And (such their charge) kept wider watch and 

The necromancer smiles at seeing the whole 
party, as it were, delivered over into his hands, 
and opens his books for the purpose of be- 
ginning his operations. Whilst he reads, a 
heavy slumber falls upon the watchers; and, 
having drawn his sword, (for he was a belted 
knight,) he approaches the princess with the 
intention of putting her to death. He yields, 
however, to the enchantment of beauty, and 
determines to make a different use of the op- 
portunity. Not aware that the enchanted ring 
was on her finger, which she had accidentally 


received from Argalia, he conceives he has ren- 
dered her sleep as fast as that of her followers, 
and clasps her in his arms; but the ring, which 
is proof against all spells, does its duty. Ange- 
lica wakes with a shriek, and Argalia rushes to 
her assistance. Being unprovided with other 
weapon, he avenges the insult offered to his 
sister with a cudgel ; but as he is bruising the 
unfortunate Malagigi, Angelica cries to him to 
bind the ravisher fast, while she holds him ; as 
he is a potent necromancer, who, but for the 
assistance of the ring, would laugh at chains. 
Argalia runs immediately to wake the giant, but 
finding, after some time, that this was a fruitless 
attempt, he himself binds Malagigi, hands and 
feet. The damsel this while possesses herself of 
the magician's book, and having evoked his 
fiends, bids them convey her prisoner instantly 
to King Galaphron, and inform him that her 
project goes well, since she has mastered the 
only enemy whom she had reason to fear. Ma- 


lagigi is confined by Galaphron, in a dungeon 
under the sea. In the mean time, Angelica 
dissolves the enchanted sleep of her followers. 

While these things are going on, all is 
uproar at Paris, since Orlando insists upon 
being the first to try the adventure at the stair 
of Merlin. This is resented by the other pre- 
tenders to Angelica, and all contest his right to 
the precedency. The tumult is stilled by the 
usual expedient of casting lots, and the first 
prize is drawn by Astolpho. Ferrau has the 
second, and the giant Grandonio the third. 
Next to these came Berlinghier and Otho, then 
Charles himself, and (as his ill fortune would 
have it), after thirty more, the indignant 

The character of the holder of the first lot 
is now developed, who is to play a considerable 
part in the romance. 


Astolpho, who the winning ticket bore, 
Was nimble, and with youthful beauty blest ; 
And, for these gentle gifts, was prized before 
Christian or Pagan princes, east or west ; 
With that, was rich, and full of courteous lore, 
And always loved to go in gilded vest ! 
One only fault the prince's pride might humble ; 
Sir Turpin tells us he was given to tumble. 

Astolpho goes forth upon his adventure with 
great gaiety of dress and manner, and Argalia 
and he encounter, after having with much cour- 
tesy renewed the engagements, which were 
before specified as regulating the duel. They 
engage; when Astolpho is immediately tilted 
out of his saddle. His rage and surprise are 
excessive ; but his painful feelings receive some 
relief from the kindness of Angelica, who, 
moved to compassion for his misfortune, and 
somewhat touched by his gallantry and grace, 
grants him the liberty of the pavilion; where 
he is treated with every sort of kindness and 


respect. Here he is assigned a magnificent 
bed ; the others retreat to their couches, and 
thus passes the night. 

The sleepers are awakened at dawn by Fer- 
rau's bugle, who, as next upon the list, claims 
the second course. Argalia goes forth to meet 
him, clad in his enchanted arms, and mounted 
on his horse Rabican, who is described as 
blacker than a crow, save that three of his legs 
were pie-balled, and that his forehead was 
marked with a star. 

Ferrau undergoes the fate of Astolpho; but 
when unhorsed, refuses to abide, like him, the 
established conditions, and springing upon his 
feet, in despite of the protest of Argalia, renews 
the battle with his sword. Argalia's giants 
now rush between the combatants, and attack 
him ; their master, however, in courtesy, retires 
from such unequal fray, and stands apart till 
his giants are overthrown. He then renews 
the contest, and Astolpho, who had been waked 


by the disturbance, in vain seeks to allay it. 
Ferrau says that he is no vassal of Charles's, 
and therefore is not bound by any pact respect- 
ing the duel, which he may have made with 
Angelica : and that he is resolved to win her 
and wear her. In answer to the observation of 
Argalia, that he is without a helmet, which had 
been beat off and broken by the golden lance, 
he observes, that without one, he is a fair match 
for his opposite. 

This dispute had been carried on by the 
combatants on foot, but they now remount in 
order to decide it on horseback, when Argalia 
in his fury forgets his lance, which he has left 
leaning against a pine. Many blows had been 
given and taken without effect, when the two 
knights paused in mutual astonishment, and 
Argalia informed Ferrau that his efforts were 
fruitless, as his armour was enchanted ; a 
communication which Ferrau repaid by ob- 
serving that his skin was invulnerable with the 


exception of one side. The recital of these 
gifts, which produces a sort of reciprocal re- 
spect, leads them to a further parley ; in which 
Argalia agrees to give Ferrau Angelica to 
wife, provided she consents to the arrange- 
ment. But Angelica, who is startled by 
Ferrau's ugliness and fierceness, and more es- 
pecially by his ill-shaped head and black hair, 
her favour being especially set upon a light- 
haired lover, entreats her brother, rather than 
sacrifice her to such a man, to renew his battle 
which had been suspended, while she transports 
herself by magic to Catay ; she then observes 
he may watch his opportunity, to escape and 
follow her to the wood of Arden, where she 
will wait his arrival. 

He, in consequence, communicates to Ferrau 
the refusal of his sister. The battle is renewed ; 
and upon its renewal, Angelica disappears. She 
is soon followed by Argalia, who turns his back 
upon his adversary. Ferrau pursues, but sees 
c 2 


no traces either of the damsel or the knight. 
In the meantime Astolpho, who finds himself at 
liberty, puts on his armour, and his own lance 
having been splintered in the joust, takes, un- 
conscious of its virtues, that of Argalia, which 
was left leaning against the pine. Returning 
home, he meets Rinaldo, who had wandered 
out to the wood, to learn the fortune of Ferrau. 
He, too, hearing of the disappearance of Ange- 
lica, gallops away in pursuit, while Astolpho 
continues his road to Paris. 

Here Orlando seeks him, and learns all that 
has passed. Distracted with the news, and, 
above all, jealous of Rinaldo, he too, waits, only 
till evening to join in the pursuit; when he 
makes his secret sally, and rides towards the wood 
of Arden. Thus, three champions, to wit, Fer- 
rau, Rinaldo, and Orlando are entered in the 

This, while Charlemagne is proceeding in his 
preparations for the tournament, the prize of 


which was to be the Crown of Roses. Many fair 
feats had already been wrought, and the knights 
are in the heat of the jousts, when Astolpho 
pricks forth into the medley * ; but his courser 
falls w r ith him and dislocates his foot. All regret 


this accident of the English prince, who is 
carried to his palace where his foot is set. The 
jousts are continued by the others, from whom 
Grandonio the giant bears- away the honours of 
the field, wounding and unhorsing knights on 
all sides. In the meantime, 

Astolpho was return'd into the square, 
His single faulchion to his girdle tied, 
And rode in gallant guise an ambling mare, 
Unarm'd and weaponless in all beside : 
And laugh'd and loiter'd with the ladies there, 
And jested with the circle far and wide : 
While he thus idly chatted, Gryphon fell, 
Thrust by Grandonio from his lofty sell. 
* Mischia, me!6e. 

C 3 


All who contend with Grandonio suffer the 
same destiny ; while the outrageous Pagan over- 
whelms Charles and his paladins with invec- 
tive. On the other hand, Charles vents threats 
and imprecations upon the absent Orlando, 
Rinaldo, and Gano, expressing at the same time 
his earnest desire to be revenged upon the 

Astolpho, hearing this, retreats, unobserved, 
to his palace, arms himself at all points and re- 
appears amongst the combatants; not, as the 
author observes, that he expects to do himself 
much honour ; in which opinion he seems to have 
agreed with the multitude who hailed his en- 
trance with smiles and whispers, but with the 
intention of doing his duty to his lord, and leav- 
ing the event to Heaven. Accordingly 


Firm on his prancing steed, he louted low 

In graceful act, and " Know, Sir King," he cried, 

" I come to venge thee of thy Pagan foe, 

" Knowing that thou such wish hast signified." 
As one whose mood was still fastidious ; " Go, 

" Go in the name of God ;" King Charles replied : 
Then, turning to the lords that hemm'd his seat ; 

" There lack'd but this to make our shame 

Astolpho, thus dismissed, pours a volley of 
abuse upon Grandonio, and tilts at him in fury. 
The golden lance works an unexpected miracle, 
and the giant tumbles like a tower that is un- 
dermined. King Charlemagne and all are in 
amazement, while Astolpho, though no less 
surprized at his own prowess, pursues his 
fortune, and clears the field. These events 
were immediately recounted to Gan, who was 
in his own house, and who, having armed 
c 4- 


a party of his kinsmen and retainers, comes 
before the king, and alleges some frivolous 
pretext for his tardy appearance ; which, whe- 
ther believed or not, is accepted by the sove- 
reign. He now sends a message to Astolpho, 
proposing to close the tournament, as the pay- 
nims are defeated. To which the English 
prince replies, ' that he considers him every 
whit as false a Pagan as the others,' and imme- 
diately attacks him with his lance. Gan, Pina- 
bello and all their household are unhorsed; but 
while Astolpho is in full career, a traitor as- 
sails him from behind, and bears him to the 
ground. He rises in fury, tilts at friends and 
foes, and outrages all, king Charlemagne among 
the rest ; by whose order he is at last surrounded, 
mastered, and carried off to prison. 

He was here ill bested, yet not so ill, says the 
author, as the other three, who suffered the 
pains of love for Angelica. These all arrived 
by different roads, and at different times in the 


wood of Arden. The first comer was Rinaldo ; 
who, penetrating into the forest, beheld a beau- 
tiful fountain in the shade. 

The alabaster vase was wrought with gold, 

And the white ground o'erlaid with curious care ; 
While he who look'd within it, might behold 
Green grove, and flowers, and meadow, pictur'd 


Wise Merlin made it, it is said, of old, 
For Tristan when he sigh'd for Yseult fair : 
That drinking of its wave, he might forego 
The peerless damsel, and forget his woe. 

But he to his misfortune never found 

That fountain, built beneath the green- wood tree ; 
Altho' the warrior pac'd a weary round. 
Encompassing the world by land and sea. 
The waves which in the magic bason bound, 
Make him unlove who loves. Nor only he 
Foregoes his former love ; but that, which late 
Was his chief pride and pleasure, has in hate. 


Mount Alban's lord, whose strength and spirits 


For yet the sun was high and passing hot, 
Stood gazing on the pearly fountain's brink, 
Rapt with the sight of that delicious spot. 
At length he can no more ; but stoops to drink, 
And thirst and love are in the draught forgot : 
For such the virtue those cold streams impart, 
Changed in an instant is the warrior's heart. 

Him, with that forest's wonders unacquainted, 
Some paces to a second water bring, 
Of chrystal wave with rain or soil untainted. 
With all the flowers that wreathe the brows of 


Kind nature had the verdant margin painted : 
And there a pine and beech and olive fling 
Their boughs above the stream, and form a bower, 
A grateful shelter from the noontide hour. 


This was the stream of love, upon whose shore 
He chanced, where Merlin no enchantments 


But nature here, unchanged by magic lore, 
The fountain with such sovereign virtue fed, 
That all who tasted loved : whence many, sore 
Lamenting their mistake, were ill-bested. 
Rinaldo wandered to this water's brink, 
But, sated, had no further wish to drink. 

Yet the delicious trees and banks produce 
Desire to try the grateful shade ; and needing 
Repose, he 'lights, and turns his courser loose, 
Who roam'd the forest, at his pleasure feeding ; 
And there Rinaldo cast him down, at truce 
With care ; and slumber to repose succeeding, 
Thus slept supine : when spiteful fortune brought 
Her* to the spot whom least the warrior sought. 

* Angelica. 


She thirsts, and lightly leaping from her steed, 
Ties the gay palfrey to the lofty pine ; 
Then plucking from the stream a little reed, 
Sips, as a man might savour muscat wine ; 
And feels while yet she drinks (such marvel breed 
The waters fraught with properties divine) 
She is no longer what she was before ; 
And next beholds the sleeper on the shore. 

Enamoured of the slumbering knight, she 
hesitates long between love and shame, but, at 
length, no longer mistress of herself, pulls a 
handful of flowers, and flings them in his face. 
The gallantry is lost upon Rinaldo ; who wakes, 
and flies from her with loathing. She pursues, 
and entreats his compassion in vain ; and, at 
length, wearied with the chace, sinks down upon 
the turf, and weeps herself asleep. Ferrau 
now arrives in the forest, in the hope of 
finding Angelica, or wreaking his vengeance 
upon her brother. Occupied with these 


thoughts he lights upon Argalia ; who, having 
followed his sister, had dismounted, and was 
also sleeping under a tree. Ferrau unties 
the sleeper's horse, and drives him into the 
thicket. His adversary's means of escape thus 
intercepted, he watches till the sleeping man 
should wake ; nor is his patience put to a long 
trial. Argalia soon opens his eyes, and is in 
great distress at finding his horse gone; but 
Ferrau, who is as quickly on his feet, tells him 
not to think of his loss ; as one of them must 
not quit the place alive, and his own horse will 
remain the prize of the survivor. 

The two warriors now again engage in battle, 
and closing, Ferrau, through a chink in his 
armour, strikes Argalia to the heart. Argalia 
sinks beneath the blow, and dying entreats his 
adversary to have regard to his honor, and cast 
him and his armour into the river; that his 
memory may not be disgraced by the knowledge 
of his having been vanquished in enchanted 
arms. Ferrau, who compassionates his fate, 


promises compliance, with the reservation of 
wearing his helmet till he can provide himself 
with another. Argalia consents by a sign, and 
soon after expires. 

Ferrau, who had waited by him till he drew 
his last sigh, now puts on the helmet, which he 
had previously taken from his wounded adver- 
sary's head in order to give him air ; and having 
razed off the crest, places it upon his own. He 
then, with the dead body under his arm, having 
remounted his horse, proceeds sadly towards 
the neighbouring river, into which he casts 
Argalia, all armed as he was, conformably to 
his dying request. He then pursues his melan- 
choly way through the wood. 

This while Orlando had arrived on this theatre 
of adventures, and comes suddenly upon Ange- 
lica, who is described as sleeping in act so ex- 
quisitely graceful, that he gazes on the vision 
hi stupid wonderment, and, at last, to contem- 
plate her more closely, throws himself down by 
her side. 


Ferrau arrives at this juncture, and suppos- 
ing Orlando, whom he had not recognized, to 
be Angelica's guard, insults and defies him. 
The paladin starts up and declares himself; 
when Ferrau, though somewhat surprized, 
making a virtue of necessity, stands to his arms. 
A desperate duel follows : during this Angelica 
wakes and flies : Orlando proposes a truce to 
his adversary, that he may follow her ; but 
Ferrau, whose courage was now up, tells him 
she shall be the prize of the conqueror, and re- 
fuses. The battle is therefore renewed with 
more fury than before. The author here ex- 
claims : 

Gifted with odd half lights, I often wonder 
How I should think of love ; if well or ill. 
For whether 'tis a thing above, or under 
The rule of reason, foils my little skill; 
If we go guided by some god, or blunder 
Into the snare, which warps our better will ; 
If we by line and rule our actions measure, 
And 'tis a thing we take or leave at pleasure. 


When we behold two bulls each other tear, 
A cow the cause of strife, with mutual wound, 
It looks as if such foolish fury were 
In nature and controlling instinct found : 
But when we see that absence, prudence, care 
And occupation, can preserve us sound 
From such a charm, or, if you will, infection ; 
Love seems to be the fruit of pure election. 

Of this so many men have sung and told, 
In Hebrew, Latin, and in heathen Greek, 
In Egypt, Athens, and in Rome, of old, 
Who govern'd by such different judgments speak, 
That I can ill decide with whom to hold, 
And cannot waste my time the truth to seek. 
Let it suffice, that Love's a wayward god : 
And so heav'n keep us from the tyrant's rod ! 

The truth of these reflections the author 
considers as strikingly exemplified by the 
combat between the champions, which is 


interrupted by the appearance of a strange 
damsel upon a panting palfrey, who clamours 
eagerly for Ferrau. She, perceiving him, 
entreats Orlando to forbear his blows ; which 
he immediately does upon the damsel's 
request. Addressing herself to the paynim, 
she informs him that she is his relation 
Flordespina, and dispatched in search of him, 
to say that Gradasso king of Sericane, a 
fiend incarnate, has invaded the Spanish do- 
minions; that king Falsiron is taken, Valencia 
ravaged, Arragon destroyed, and Barcelona 
besieged ; that poor Marsilius is broken down 
by so many calamities, and that his last hopes 
rest on him, in pursuit of whom she was wan- 
dering. Ferrau balances for a moment between 
love and duty, but at length determines to 
suspend his combat, with the permission of 
Orlando, who agrees to the proposal, and who 
himself follows Angelica. Ferrau, on the other 
hand, departs with Flordespina for Spain. The 


author here leaves each to pursue his separate 
quest, and returns to Charles. This monarch 
calls a council in consequence of intelligence 
received, which was similar to that brought by 
Flordespina to Ferrau. He observes in this 
council, that Marsilius is his neighbour and 
relation, and is yet more entitled to succour 
from a consideration of common danger; and in 
consequence, with the consent of his peers, 
dispatches Rinaldo with a great charge of men 
at arms against Gradasso, who had crossed the 
streights of Gibraltar into Spain. He at the 
same time constitutes Rinaldo lieutenant of his 
southern provinces, who departs for the seat of 
war ; and all the knights present at the tour- 
nament assemble under his banner. His 
coming, as well as that of Ferrau, (now arrived) 
is highly gratifying to Marsilius, who had shel- 
tered himself in Gerona. The greatest part of 
Spain (as stated) had been already sacked, and 
all the Spanish warriors (with the exception of 


Ferrau) who had returned to the defence of 
their country, were killed, or prisoners. Even 
the giant-king, Grandonio, who we lately saw 
braving Charlemagne and all his peerage, had 
sought refuge in Barcelona. Marsilius, on the 
arrival of the French succours, now marches to 
his relief. The banners of the allied army are 
no sooner distinguished by Gradasso, where he 
lay camped, and served by giant-kings, than he 
issues extravagant orders to his various vassals. 
Four of these he dispatches with their followers 
against Barcelona, with orders not leave a soul 
alive in that city, with the exception of Gran- 
donio, whom he wishes (as he says) to take alive, 
that he may bait him with his dogs. Others 
are sent forth, with orders to take or destroy 
the most distinguished amongst the captains of 
the confederates. This last command is given 
to Faraldo, king of Arabia, who is enjoined to 
bring him Rinaldo and the banner of Charle- 
D 2 


magne, which, it seems, was also one of the 
principal objects of his expedition. 

The battle now rages in the field, and within 
the city of Barcelona, in which the army of 
Gradasso had previously made lodgements. 
While the warfare within the town is still 
doubtful, the bands dispatched against the 
confederates under Rinaldo, are, after a long 
contest, defeated; and one of the surviving giant- 
kings reports their discomfiture to Gradasso, 
who immediately arms and goes forth against 
the conquerors. His first object of attack is 
Rinaldo ; but Bayardo, startled by the appear- 
ance of the Alfana, a monstrous mare, on which 
Gradasso rode, made a leap of twenty feet into 
the air, and thus evaded the charge. Gradasso, 
though somewhat surprized, gallops on, and 
unhorses many of the best amongst the confede- 
rates, who are immediately taken and bound by 
Alfrera, one of his giant-kings, who serves him 
as a lacquey. 


Rinaldo now wheels Bayardo round, and 
spurs him at Gradasso ; and both charge with 
such fury, that the Alfana and Bayardo crum- 
ble under their riders, who, however, preserve 
then" seats. Gradasso, who first recollects 
himself, gives immediate orders to Alfrera, 
who was following him upon a camelopard, to 
secure Rinaldo and his horse; and according 
to his practice, himself follows up the pursuit 
of the confederates. 

Alfrera has,, however, a more difficult task 
assigned him than Gradasso had imagined; 
for Bayardo, having regained his feet, bears 
away his rider, who was not yet himself. The 
paladin, however, waking from his short stupor, 
rides again hi chase of Gradasso, himself pur- 
sued in vain by the giant Alfrera. 

Rinaldo charges Gradasso just as he has un- 
horsed his brother Alardo, and discharges a 
furious stroke upon his head. Gradasso repays 
the greeting in a way that would have ended 
D 3 


the strife, but for Mambrino's helmet, which 
saved the knight from any worse evil than a 
concussion of the brain ; while Bayardo again 
galloped away with him in a state of half stupe- 
faction. Recovering himself a second time, 
and full of shame and fury, he returns to seek 
Gradasso, and the combat is renewed with more 
equality than was promised by its commence- 
ment; Rinaldo, counterbalancing the strength 
of his opposite, by his own superior dexterity, 
and the quickness and docility of Bayardo. 
The combatants are, however, separated, and 
borne asunder by the tide of battle. After dif- 
ferent adventures, they yet again meet, when 
Gradasso observing that Rinaldo is surrounded 
by the troops of Sericane, courteously proposes 
that their duel should be deferred till the suc- 
ceeding day, to be fought under the following 
conditions, by both combatants on foot : " If 
Rinaldo conquers, he is to have back all the 
prisoners made by Gradasso ; and if Gradasso 


wins the day, he is to have Bayardo for his 
prize ; but is in either case to return home, and 
never more set foot in Europe." Rinaldo wil- 
lingly accedes to this, and a place is fixed on, 
near the sea, for the combat, to which both are 
to come, with no other than defensive armour 
and their swords. But the author, while the 
barriers are preparing, returns to Angelica, 
who, being returned to India, determines on 
setting Malagigi at liberty, and making him 
her mediator with the disdainful knight. She 
accordingly frees him from his dungeon, un- 
locks his fetters with her own hand, and bids 
him hi return to unloosen her own. She then 
returns him his book, explains herself more 
precisely, and promises him final liberty, on 
condition of his bringing back Rinaldo. 

Malagigi calls up a demon with the aid of 
his book, mounts him and departs. He is en- 
tertained, during his journey, with a relation of 
Gradasso's enterprise, by the devil; who told 
D 4 


him, as the author observes, " all that had 
chanced, and indeed more, which was so much 
the easier, in that he lied." Malagigi arrived 
at his destination, finds Rinaldo rejoiced to 
see him, but immoveable on the subject of 
Angelica; and hence, after many fruitless en- 
deavours, vanishes with a threat. Having 
reached a spot convenient for his incantations, 
he opens his book, calls up a legion of demons, 
and from these, selects Draghinazzo and Fal- 
setta. The latter is -bid to take the appearance 
of one of king Marsilius's heralds, the coat of 
arms and battoon ; and thus equipped, to inform 
Gradasso that Rinaldo expects to meet him at 
mid-day. Gradasso accepts the invitation, and 
gifts the false herald with a cup. 

The same devil, again transformed, comes 
now to Rinaldo, as if from Gradasso, but with 
a very different appearance. He has a turban 
on his head, wears a flowing robe, and has rings 
in his ears, instead of on his fingers. His 


object is to remind Rinaldo, on the part of 
Gradasso, to meet him in the morning, which 
had been the time previously stipulated. Thus 
each, on the supposed invitation of the other, 
prepares for a different appointment. Rinaldo 
necessarily is first at the place, but sees nothing 
but a 

Small pinnace anchor'd by the shore. 

He, however, immediately after, descries a figure 
on the beach, in the garb and guise of Gra- 
dasso, but which was, in reality, no other than 
one of the fiends, Draghinazzo, evoked by 
Malagigi, and thus transmogrified. The com- 
bat immediately begins; and Rinaldo, after some 
blows given and taken, making a desperate two- 
handed stroke at the supposed Gradasso, buries 
his sword Fusberta in the sand. The devil avails 
himself of the opportunity to escape, flies to the 
boat, and is putting off. Rinaldo, however, 


follows him into his barque, and deals a blow 
at him, but the demon leaps from prow to 
poop : 

Rinaldo chas'd him back from poop to prow, 
The sword Fusberta flaming in his hand ; 
But he from side to side, from stern to bow, 
Flits, while the barque is drifting from the land. 
Rinaldo marks it not ; who thought but how 
To reach the foe with his avenging brand ; 
Nor from his long day-dream of vengeance woke, 
Till the false fiend was melted into smoke. 

Yet the paladin will not give over his hopes of 
finding him, and renews a fruitless search above 
and below. In the meantime, the barque is 
seven miles from shore, and Rinaldo observes, 
too late, that she is scudding, self-steered, before 
the wind. 

The vessel at length takes the ground near 
a beautiful garden, and Rinaldo lands in front 


of a palace, worthy of its grounds. Here, 
says the author, I leave him, with less com- 
punction, as he is in good quarters, and proceed 
in pursuit of Orlando, who, having wandered 
as far as the Tanais, in search of Angelica, 
meets an old man weeping the loss of his son, 
who had been taken prisoner by a giant. The 
paladin delivers the youth, and the old man, in 
gratitude, presents him with a book, which is 
capable (he says) of resolving the questions of 
any one who consults it. Instructed by this 
book, he seeks a sphynx, who appears to have 
been a yet better resolver of doubts, hi order 
to obtain information of the dwelling-place of 
Angelica. The monster tells him, that this is in 
Albracca of Catay. In the meantime the sphinx 
has her question for the interrogator, which it 
is death not to interpret; and plies Orlando 
with the riddle, solved by CEdipus. Orlando, 
with intent to cut the knot which he cannot 
untie, draws Durindana, attacks the monster 


sword in hand, and at length slays and tumbles 
her from the rock on which she made her 
abode. He has now leisure to look in his 
book for the solution of the sphynx's enigma; 
and finds that her question of " What animal 
" begins his career upon four legs, after a time 
" continues it on two, and ends it upon three ?" 
means Man; designating thus the child who 
crawls, the man who walks, and the old man 
who supports himself with a stick. Having 
cleared up this point, he pursues his way still 
poring upon the book, and soon arrives at a 
river dark, deep, and dangerous, whose pre- 
cipitous banks afford no means of passage. 
Orlando rides along the shore till he comes to 
a bridge, where he dismounts. This is kept 
by a giant, who tells him that he who arrives 
at that bridge, which is justly named the Bridge 
of Death, has little while to live ; for that all 
the roads which lead from it wind back to 
that fatal water, into which either he or Orlando 


must soon be plunged never to rise again. 
Orlando, however, who seems little impressed by 
this warning, springs upon the bridge, and attacks 
him. A desperate combat now ensues, but with 
the usual issue. The giant is slain. He, how- 
ever, in falling, springs a clap-net of iron, which 
closing on the paladin, beats his sword out of 
his hand, and envelopes him in its folds. 

As he lies helpless in this trap, a friar ar- 
rives, who, after vain attempts to release him, 
offers him spiritual consolation, which is ill 
received : but the friar, having the sinner at his 
mercy, continues to inculcate it ; and in illus- 
tration of the powers of a protecting Providence 
informs him of a late miraculous escape of his 
own. He was travelling with certain of his 
brothers, when they were surprised by a hor- 
rible cyclops, who made a feast on one of his 
companions, but cast him from a rock, as 
worthless carrion ; when he luckily lighted 
amongst the branches of a tree, where he lay 


concealed till evening, and then effected his 
escape. He is yet engaged in his narration, 
when he breaks off with a scream and flies. 

His sudden terror was produced by the sight 
of the very Cyclops of whom he spoke, who 
came armed with a club and three darts. 
He, however, instead of pursuing the friar, 
stops to consider Orlando. He then takes up 
Durindana, which lies near, and hews the 
chain-net in pieces, without injury to the 
count, whose skin was enchanted. Orlando 
instantly starts up, his bones aching with the 
blows, which had not been able to penetrate his 
flesh ; and seizing the giant's club, they, having 
thus exchanged weapons, engage in a desperate 
and equal combat. For if Orlando's skin was 
invulnerable, the giant's armour, which was 
made of griffins' claws, was equally impene- 
trable. At length Orlando bethinks him of 
the three shafts, which the giant had laid down, 


as well as his club, when he possessed himself 
of Durindana. 

Seizing these, and launching one of them at 
his single eye, it penetrates his brain and 
stretches him dead. At this juncture the friar, 
who yet trembles with fear as well as joy, re- 
appears, and entreats Orlando to accompany 
him towards the dead cyclops* den, for the 
purpose of liberating his companions. 

This done, Orlando rides on ; when, arriving 
at a place where many roads cross, he meets 
a courier, and asking him news, learns that he 
is dispatched by Angelica, to solicit the aid of 
Sacripant, king of Circassia, in favour of her 
father, Galaphron, besieged by Agrican, emperor 
of Tartary, in Albracca. This Agrican had 
been an unsuccessful suitor to the damsel, whom 
he now pursues with arms. Orlando, who 
learns that he is within a day's journey of Al- 
bracca, now thinks that he is secure of Angelica, 
and proceeds with rapture towards her seat. 


Thus journeying, he arrives at a bridge which 
united two mountains, and under which ran a 
foaming river. Here a damsel meets him with 
a goblet, and informs him, with much grace of 
demeanor, that it is the usage of the bridge to 
present the traveller with a cup, which she 
offers to Orlando, and which the paladin, in 
courtesy, drains. He has, however, no sooner 
swallowed the julep which sparkles in it, than 
his brain dances, and he is no longer conscious 
of the object of his journey, or even of his own 
existence. Under the influence of this fasci- 
nation, he follows the damsel into a magnificent 
and marvellous palace. 

Here the author leaves the count to return 
to Gradasso, who, deceived by the false herald 
that appointed him to meet Rinaldo upon the 
sea-shore at noon, in vain expects his arrival. 
He waits there till night, when he retires full 
of indignation at the supposed cowardice of 
his opponent. In the meantime, Ricciardetto 


(who had been left by his brother, Rinaldo, in 
charge of Charlemagne's army), on the paladin's 
departure for the false appointment according 
to the instructions he had received, in case of 
his not returning in a given time, withdraws 
Charles's forces from Marsilius's camp, and 
returns to France. 

Gano immediately cries out upon Rinaldo's 
treason, and all is dismay. On the other part, 
Marsilius, thus deserted, has no means of safety, 
but in making peace with Gradasso, and con- 
senting to hold Spain as his liegeman. In 
consequence of his so doing, Gradasso, strength- 
ened by the accession of Marsilius, with Gran- 
donio and his other vassal kings, marches upon 
Paris. Charlemagne, with all his peerage, 
sallies to encounter him ; but his army ex- 
periences a disastrous rout, and he, with almost 
all his paladins, is captured; while Paris is 
immediately invested by the invaders. 

Gradasso, however, does not abuse his vic- 


tory : he takes Charles by the hand, seats him 
by his side, and tells him he wars only for ho- 
nour. Hence he renounces all conquests, but 
insists on the monarch promising him Bayardo 
and Durindana, both the property of his vassals, 
the first of which, as he maintained, was already 
forfeited by the treason of Rinaldo. To this ; 
Charlemagne and his peers in acknowledgment 
of their defeat, were to remain his prisoners for 
a day : Bayardo, who had been brought back by 
Ricciardetto, was to be forthwith delivered up, 
and Durindana consigned to Gradasso in Se- 
ricana, upon the return of Orlando to France. 
To these terms Charlemagne readily accedes, 
and sends for the horse to Paris. 

Here, Astolpho had assumed the command, 
having obtained his freedom during the con- 
fusion, which followed upon the rout of Charle- 
magne's army, and asserted an authority which, 
in the absence of the other peers, there was no 
one to dispute. 


He receives with great indignation the mes- 
senger dispatched for Bayardo, and throws 
him into prison ; answering the embassy by 
a herald, who says, on the part of Astolpho, 
" that Charles has no right in the steed ; but 
that Gradasso may come and fight for him ; in 
which case he will meet him in the field." 

The next day the two knights encounter, 
having previously established the conditions of 
their combat. The enchanted lance performs a 
new wonder ; and Gradasso, the terrible Gra- 
dasso, is unhorsed. 

According to their previous agreement, Gra- 
dasso is to give up his prisoners, and return to his 
kingdom of Sericana. Astolpho, however, begs 
him not to spoil a jest which he wishes to put upon 
Charlemagne and his paladins, by making them 
believe that the issue of the duel had been dif- 
ferent from what it was, and that they, therefore, 
(in consequence of the first proffer of Gradasso 
not having been acceded to,) were still the pri- 
E 2 


soners of that sovereign. When Astolpho has 
sufficiently bantered both king, count, and bishop 
(for Turpin was amongst the captives, and one of 
the objects of his raillery), he falls upon his 
knees, begs pardon of Charles for his irrever- 
ence, and observes, that as he is ill looked upon 
in his court, he will leave the field to Gano, 
and set out on the morrow in search of his 
cousins Orlando and Rinaldo. Having said 
this, Charles and his peers are freed, and Gano 
is getting into his saddle ; when he is brought 
back by Astolpho, who observes, that he only 
gives him his liberty, (since the disposal of all is 
at his option,) on condition of his swearing before 
Charles, to constitute himself his prisoner for 
four days, whenever he should enjoin it. Charles 
undertakes for his compliance with such a re- 
quisition, and seeks to detain Astolpho with the 
bribe of Ireland ; but the duke is inflexible, and 
departs. Gradasso also returns into Sericana. 

The author now returns to Rinaldo, who 
was landed by the self-piloted boat in what was, 


it seems, denominated The Joyous Garden. He is 
scarcely disembarked, before a lady appears, who 
takes him by the hand, and conducts him into a 
palace, where he is served by attendant damsels, 
with everj r sort of luxury and magnificence. At 
last, the chief of the servants tells him, that all 
this is his which he surveys, being the pre- 
sent of a lady, who, to have his love, has brought 
him out of Spain. While Rinaldo stands lost 
in astonishment, the name of Angelica, who is 
proclaimed by this man to be the mistress of 
the palace, breaks the charm, and he flies in 
fury through the garden, till, arriving at the 
landing-place, he leaps again into his pinnace. 
The bark, however, remains immoveable, and 
he is about to cast himself into the sea in de- 
spair, when it darts from the shore and traverses 
the waves. 

Arrived on the banks of a well-wooded 
country, it again takes the land; and Rinaldo 
disembarking, encounters a hoary and aged man 


upon the beach, who has a melancholy story for 
the paladin, of a ravisher who had that moment 
carried away his daughter. Pursuing the* thief) 
Rinaldo falls into a pit-fall, and is carried away 
prisoner by a giant ; who bears him to a cas- 
tle, situate^ upon a promontory, the walls of 
which were covered with maimed bodies and 
heads, some of which yet quivered with the re- 
mains of life. 

The giant, entering the building, casts Ri- 
naldo down before an old woman of stern and 
forbidding appearance ; who thus addresses 

" Haply, Sir Knight, thou hast not heard display 
" Our castle's use," exclaims the beldame old ; 
" In the short time thou hast to live, a day 
" Is yet thine own, the story shall be told : 
" Then listen to the legend, whilst thou may, 
" And I the melancholy tale unfold. 
" Thou in that space may'st hear the tale of 

sorrow, ' ,-. 
" And witness to its truth in blood to-morrow." 


She pursues her story * thus : " Know, Sir 
Stranger, that this castle was formerly held 
by a 'rich lord, famous for his magnificence j 
and hospitality, and yet more so, for the in- 
comparable beauty of the lady whom he had 
to wife. This castellan was hight Gryphon, 
his castle Altaripa, and Stella was the name 
of his wife. It was his favourite pleasure 
to disport himself in the green-wood near the 
shore, where thou arrived'st this morning, and 
roving one day through this, he heard the 
hunting-horn of a stranger, whom he invited 
to his castle. The guest was Marchino, lord of 
Aronda, and my husband ; who was so smitten 

* I have thought it the duty of a translator, to preserve this 
story j but I would say to my readers, in the Words of 

Lasciate questo canto, che senz' esso 
- Pub star 1* istoria, e non sara men* chiara. 

Mettendolo Turpino, anch' io 1* ho messo. 

Leave out tkit canto / tince the tale will tell 
Without it, and the ttory it at dear: 
Which, totdby Turpin, I relate a welt. . 


by the beauty of Stella, that he could not rest 
till he had made her his own. He, however, 
dissembled his evil intentions, and took a 
friendly leave of his entertainer. This was 
only to return, as a treacherous enemy. He, 
accordingly, bearing some resemblance to Gry- 
phon, counterfeited his ensigns, and came back 
with a party of his retainers, whom he concealed, 
as well as those, in the neighbouring wood. 
He, in the mean time, pursued the chace un- 
armed. Gryphon again sought him out, and 
finding him apparently distressed by the loss of 
a hound, joined him in his search. He was 
thus decoyed into the ambuscade, and assassi- 
nated. Marchino, having disposed of his rival, 
entered Altaripa under the disguise of Gry- 
phon's ensigns, where he did not leave a soul 
alive, with the exception of Stella. She, 
while preserved by the conqueror, brooded in 
secret over schemes of vengeance, and after 
pondering some time, determined to have re- 


course to that animal whose wrath is the most 
intolerable, namely, the wife who has been 
once loved, and after slighted for another. 
This was no other than myself, and the cruel- 
ties which I perpetrated, well justified her ex- 
pectation. Two children, whom I had by 
Marchino, I killed and quartered. Think 
upon this : yet know that I still triumph in the 
recollection of my vengeance. Their heads 
only, I preserved: the remainder I cooked, 
and served up to the wretched father for his /ti;*S-.^-7 ^ 
supper. This done, I departed secretly for Tl~* s/Zy ,_ 

'./>- 1 * L-_ ^ 

the court of the king of Orgagna, who had 
long been a wooer to me, without success. 
Him I stirred up to vengeance against Mar- 
chino, and brought in arms against his newly- 
acquired castle of Altaripa, 

While I was gone on this errand, Stella, with 
dishevelled hair, a smile upon her lips, but 
bitterness in her heart, presented herself before 
the murderer of her husband, with the heads of 


his two children in a charger, arid disclosed to 
him the horrid tragedy, at which he had been 
an unwitting assistant. The traitor hesitated 
for a moment, as if suspended between the de- 
sire of lust and vengeance, and then slew the lady, 
and satiated both ; nay, as if in outrage of God 
and man, pursued his impious loves with the 
body, till I returned with the king of Orgagna. 

After a desperate resistance, we possessed 
ourselves of Altaripa, and Marchino, having 
been made prisoner, perished in such tortures 
as he had deserved. 

The king of Orgagna now departed, leaving 
me mistress of the conquered castle, with three 
giants for my defence, having first buried the 
unfortunate Stella, together with the body of 
Gryphon, which had been left exposed and sub- 
jected to outrage by the barbarous Marchino. 

More than eight months had now passed 
when a horrid cry was heard from the mar- 
ble sepulchre, in which Gryphon and Stella 


were laid, uud we fled in dismay from the 
sound. Only one of my giants, more daring 
than his fellows, approached the tomb, and 
lifted the lid ; when a monster thrust forth its 
claw, and having dragged him into the grave, 
devoured him alive. We immediately walled 
up the space about the monument, as a pro- 
tection against its attacks, and the monster, 
having made its way out of the sepulchre, 
remains thus enclosed between the defences 
which we have constructed. But such is his 
rage and craving for human flesh, that we 
supply him with this, lest he should tear 
down the wall in his fury. Hence the usage of 
this castle ; which is to seize on all strangers, 
in order to provide him with food. The 
.quarters which you see exposed on the walls, 
are the leavings of the beast: for though the 
custom sprung out of necessity, my heart is 
become hardened with cruelty, and I now live 
for no other pleasure.' 1 ifr .7."' 


Rinaldp hears the hag with stern composure, 
and desires no other favour than that of being 
exposed to the monster, clad in armour, as he 
is, and with Fusberta in his hand. This the 
beldam grants, with a bitter smile of mockery, 
and the night closes upon him in his dungeon. 

The succeeding morning, he is lowered down 
from the wall into the space tenanted by the beast, 
the horrible fruit of Marchino's intercourse with 
the body of Stella. A desperate combat now 
ensues, Rinaldo being unable to make any im- 
pression on the scales of the monster : while 
he, on the contrary, shears away plate and 
mail from the paladin. While he is engaged 
in this hopeless struggle, the beast seizes Fus- 
berta with his teeth, and disarms Rinaldo, who 
is left without defence. 

The author here leaves him, as he says, to 
speak of a spirit hardly less afflicted, though in 
another manner : he means Angelica; who ex- 
pects in trembling, the effect of Malagigi's 


attempt He arrives, and states his failure, 
but would comfort the damsel with the thoughts 
of vengeance; relating to what a perilous pass 
he had brought the miserable Rinaldo; for 
it was by his stratagem that he was conveyed 
to Altaripa. She, however, is in despair at his 
danger, and overwhelms Malagigi with re- 
poaches. He tells her, it is not yet too late 
to save him, and furnishes her with the means. 
These are a rope, with a noose at the distance 
of every palm, a cake of wax, and a file. Fur- 
nished with these implements, and instructed by 
Malagigi in the use of them, Angelica fliesr" 
through the air to the succour of Rinaldo. 

The miserable paladin had, in the mean 
time, sprang upon a beam, which projected 
from the wall, and thus remained hanging 
between heaven and earth, with little hope 
even of present safety ; since the monster con- 
tinually leapt at him, and, often, all but 


reached him with his claws. It was now even- 
ing, when Rinaldo was surprised by the shadow 
of a woman, and soon after by the sight of 
Angelica, kneeling before him, self-suspended 
in air. She reproaches herself for having 
brought him into this peril, and opening her 
arms, entreats him to take refuge in them, and 
escape. Such, however, are the effects of the 
fountain of hate, that Rinaldo spurns at the 
proposal, and vows if she does not immediately 
depart, he will cast himself down from the 
beam. After long and fruitless efforts to move 
him, she at length descends, throws her cake 
of wax to the monster, and immediately flings 
her rope, knotted with nooses, before him. 
The beast, who takes the bait, finding his 
teeth glued together by the wax, vents his fury 
hi bounds, and leaping into one of the snares 
is noosed by Angelica, who leaves him thus 
entangled, and departs. 


Though the monster is delivered over to 
him gagged and bound, so invulnerable is 
his hide, that Rinaldo makes long and 
fruitless efforts to destroy him ; till, at length, 
leaping upon his neck, he squeezes his eyes 
out of their sockets ; and the beast expires 
under the gripe. 

Another difficulty yet remained to be over- 
come. The walls were of immense height, and 
the only opening in them was a grated window, 
of such strength that Fusberta was unable to 
separate the bars. In his distress, however, 
Rinaldo perceived the file which had been left by 
Angelica on the ground, and, with the help of 
this, effected his deliverance. 

He is immediately discovered and surrounded, 
but he charges and slays his pursuers ; and the 
beldam, having witnessed the destruction of her 
followers, throws herself headlong from a bal- 
cony of three hundred feet in height. 


Departing hence, Rinaldo returns to the sea- 
side; but, unwilling to trust himself again to 
the bark, pursues his way along the shore. 

The author now returns to Astolpho, who 
had set out in search of his cousins, Orlando 
and Rinaldo, splendidly dressed and equipt, as 
was his use, and mounted on Bayardo ; in 
the intention of returning him to his lord. 
Having arrived in Circassia, he finds there a 
great army, encamped under the command of 
Sacripant, the king of that country ; who was 
leading it to the defence of Galaphron, the 
father of Angelica. Astolpho visits the camp 
of this faithful, but ill-requited lover of the 
princess ; and not having the leopard on his 
buckler, which was of gold, is known through 
the Circassian army as the knight of the golden 
shield. Sacripant, much struck by the appear- 
ance of Astolpho and his horse, accosts him 
affably, and 


Demands how his assistance may be bought, 
And bids him make his price of service known, 

" With gift of this fair host, whom thou hast 

" To war in Indian fields from tower and town ;" 
The British duke replies, "With this, or nought. 

" Leave me, or make me at this price thine own. 

" Nor will I serve, sir king, for other pay, 

" Born to command, unweeting to obey." 

This, with other more extravagant speeches, 
leads the Circassian captains to consider him as 
a madman, and Astolpho is left to pursue his 
journey. King Sacripant, however, has been 
too much struck with the appearance of his 
horse and armour, to part with him so easily, 
and having divested himself of his kingly orna- 
ments, he determines to pursue him. 

Astolpho was in the meantime advanced a 
day's journey upon his road, when he was over- 
taken by a strange warrior : 


The stranger knight was named sir Brandimart, 
Lord of the Sylvan Tower and its domain : 
Through paynim countries, and in every part 
Bruited for glorious feats, by hill and plain. 
Well versed in tilt and tourney's valiant art ; 
In his appearance graceful and humane : 
Courteous, with that : and over and above 
His other virtues, famed for constant love. 

A gentle damsel had the knight for guide, 
Who with Astolpho bold encountered there ; 
Blooming in early youth and beauty's pride ; 
And in his faithful eyes as dear as fair. 
Him from afar the British duke * defied, 
And proudly bade him for the joust prepare 
And wheel and take his ground, and guard his 

' Or leave his lady love, a prize to better knight." 

Brandimart is as ready for battle as Astolpho; 
but observes, as the latter has no lady, he may 
wager his horse ; as it was but fair that each 
should deposit his stake. The proposal is 

* Astolpho. 


acceded to, and the knights encounter. Bran- 
diinart is unhorsed, and his steed falls dead, 
while Bayardo remains uninjured by the shock. 

The paynim knight observing the discon- 
solate looks of the damsel, is so overwhelmed 
with despair, that he draws his sword and is 
about to plunge it into his own bosom. Astol- 
pho, however, holds his hand, and exclaims that 
he contended but for glory, and having won 
the honours of the fight, was contented to leave 
him the lady. 

While Brandimart is vowing eternal service 
and gratitude, king Sacripant arrives, and now 
longing for the damsel of the one as well as the 
steed and arms of the other, defies them to the 
joust. Astolpho, as mounted, meets the chal- 
lenger, whom he instantly overthrows, and pre- 
sents Brandimart with his courser ; leaving the 
king to return to his army on foot. This dis- 
position is scarcely made, when Brandimart's 
damsel changes colour, and tells them they are 
F 2 


approaching the waters of Oblivion, and advises 
them either to turn back, or to change their 
direction. Both refuse; and pursuing their path, 
arrive at the bridge where Orlando was left. 

The damsel, as before, appears with the en- 
chanted chalice, which is rejected by Astolpho 
with contumely. She immediately dashes 
it to the ground, and a fire blazes up, which 
renders the bridge impassable. Upon this the 
damsel, who accompanied them, seizes each by 
the hand, runs with them along the river, and 
brings them to another secret and narrow bridge, 
which they cross in safety, and find themselves 
beside the enchanted garden. 

Brandimart instantly batters down the gate, 
and the two warriors entering, are attacked by 
sundry knights known and unknown, who, 
having no recollection of any thing, join blindly 
in the defence of their prison-house. While these 
are engaged by Brandimart, Astolpho entering 
the garden and pursuing his career, meets with 


Orlando, who being, like the rest, mindless of 
kindred or of country, makes at the English duke, 
who only escapes by the activity of Bayardo. 
He clears the wall, and bears off his rider. 

The author pauses to tell us that the enchanted 
water signifies the affection, impression, or opi- 
nion which man takes from others, either at 
sight, or upon trust; and the cup, which the 
damsel lets fall, is that which gives its colour- 
ing to the thing seen. 

Bayardo, this time, continues to gain upon 
Orlando's horse ; and while Astolpho is thus 
born out of danger, Brandimart is overlaid with 
fearful odds in the enchanted garden ; and his 
lady, trembling for the issue of the battle, en- 
treats him to yield to necessity, and comply 
with the usage of the fairy. So saying, she 
flies ; and Brandimart, obeying her commands, 
yields, and drinking of the cup, becomes as 
intoxicated as the rest. 

Orlando returns from the fruitless pursuit of 
F 3 


Astolpho, and excuses himself to the fairy, who 
was named Dragontina, for not having been 
able to overtake her enemy ; who pursues his 
way to Albracca, which Agrican is about to 
besiege. Here he is welcomed kindly by An- 
gelica, though she is somewhat outraged by 
his rhodomontades. He is not long before 
he attempts to put them in practice. For 
having one night ordered the drawbridge to be 
lowered, he sallies out alone, arrives in Agri- 
can's camp, and unhorses his warriors, right 
and left, by means of the enchanted lance. 
Being, however, surrounded and taken, his cap- 
ture spreads consternation among the besieged, 
and the author says that no one dared sally from 
the city. ^ 

Relief, was, however at hand; for, as the 
burghers and soldiers, are one day, leaning 
over their walls, they descry a cloud of dust, 
from which horsemen are seen to prick forth, 
as it rolls on towards the camp of the besiegers, 


which lay between the town and the new army, 
was approaching. 

This turns out to be the army of Sacripant, 
which, arriving the morning after the capture 
of Astolpho, attacks that of Agrican, with the 
view of cutting a passage through his camp into 
the besieged city. Agrican, however, mounted 
on Bayardo, taken from Astolpho, but not 
armed with the lance of gold, with the virtues 
of which he appears to have been unacquainted, 
performs prodigies, and rallies his scattered 
troops, which had given way to the sudden 
and unexpected assault. Sacripant, on the 
other hand, encourages his own by the most 
desperate acts of valour, and, as an additional 
incentive to his courage, sends a messenger to 
Angelica, entreating that she will appear upon 
the walls. She not only complies with this in- 
vitation, but sends him a sword as an earnest 
of her favour. 

She arrives in time to see a single combat 
F 4- 


between the two leaders, Agrican and Sacri- 
pant: in this, however, her defender appears 
to be rather overmatched, when the Cir- 
cassians break the ring, and separate the two 
combatants, who are borne asunder by the 
crowd. Sacripant, who was severely wounded, 
profits by the occasion, and escapes into Albracca, 
where he is put to bed and carefully attended. 

The duel is an omen of the event of the 
battle, and the Circassians, who had at first 
penetrated within their enemies' lines, are now 
routed and fly in confusion towards the town. 
Angelica orders the drawbridge to be lowered, 
and the gates to be thrown open to the fugi- 
tives. With these Agrican, who was not distin- 
guished hi the hurly-burly, enters the place 
pell mell, driving both Circassians and Catayans 
before him, and the portcullis is instantly dropt. 

Thus shut into the besieged city, the Tartar 
king continues the chase, regardless of his re- 
treat being intercepted, and deluges the streets 
with blood. Sacripant, hearing the tumult, and 


learning the cause, leaps from bed, naked and 
wounded as he was, and armed only with his 
sword and shield, opposes himself to his fury. 
His example and his reproaches take effect. 
Her allies the flyers, and, fresh forces coming 
to his assistance, and pouring in upon Agrican 
from all sides, the Tartar king slowly and re- 
luctantly retreats. 

The author here suspends this story, to 
speak ofRinaldo; whom we left issuing from the 
castle of Altaripa, and pursuing his way along 
the beach. Here he meets with a weeping 
damsel, who, being questioned as to the cause of 
her sorrow, tells him she wanders upon a hopeless 
quest, and is in search of one who will do battle 
with nine knights, amongst whom is Orlando. 
This is the lady loved of Brandimart ; to whom 
Rinaldo promises his assistance, trusting to ac- 
complish the adventure either by valour or by 
skill. The author here pauses from his nar- 
rative, and exclaims, 


To the grim winter and the dismal night 

Succeed the balmy spring and cheerful day. 
That battle had so fill'd me with affright, 
That I was all confusion and dismay : 
But now the strife is over, and 'tis light, 
Of ladies and of love shall be my lay ; 
And I will piece my broken tale and tell 
What good Rinaldo and the maid befell. 

The damsel, on their setting out together on 
the adventure, insists upon Rinaldo's taking 
her horse. This he refuses, and a contest of 
courtesy follows, which is ended by Rinaldo's 
accepting the palfrey, on condition of her 
mounting upon the croup. This she does, 
in some fear for her honour ; but finding the 
cavalier cold and silent, at last proposes to be- 
guile the way with a story. To this he con- 
sents, and she begins her narration as follows : 

" There lived of late, in Babylon, a cavalier, 
called Iroldo, who had for his wife a lady named 
Tisbina, to whom he was passionately attached. 


Near them dwelt a Babylonian gentleman, 
named Prasildo, rich, gay, courteous and va- 
liant; who, making one of a party of both sexes, 
in a garden, where a game was played which 
admitted familiarities between them, fell desper- 
ately in love with Tisbina, whom he vainly solicited, 
by every kind of gallantry and magnificence. 

" All his efforts were however unavailing ; 
and, disappointed in his hope, he fell into a state 
of melancholy which rendered life intolerable. 
One only occupation seemed to afford him some 
little relief. This was to brood over his sor- 
rows in a wood, situated at a small distance 
from Babylon. 

" As he here one day indulged his grief, 
(and it grew by indulgence,) he fell into such 
a fit of passion, that he determined, after a 
broken soliloquy, to slay himself and die 
with the name of Tisbina on his lips. By a 
strange accident, his intention was overheard by 
Iroldo and Tisbina herself, who were walking 


together in the wood. They were both moved 
to compassion; and Iroldo insisted upon Tis- 
bina's offering some consolation to the despair- 
ing lover. 

" Her husband leaving her, that she may exe- 
cute this purpose, she comes upon him as if by 
accident; pretends that, though modesty has 
hitherto restrained her, she has not been insen- 
sible to his tenderness ; and assures him, that, if 
he will give her an indubitable proof of his de- 
votion, in undertaking an adventure which she 
has at heart, she will reward him with the pos- 
session of her person. : 

" She then tells him that beyond the woods of 
Barbary, there is a garden, which is surrounded 
by an iron wall, to be entered through four 
gates. These are respectively called the gate 
of Life, of Death, of Riches, and of Poverty. 

" In the centre (she said) was a tree, whose 
top was an arrow's flight from the ground, with 
leaves of emerald, and golden fruit. Of this 


tree she required a branch, and again renewed 
her assurance of the price which she would pay 
for the acquisition. Prasildo joyfully promised 
it, and would have promised sun, moon, and 
stars, as easily as the achievement of the ad- 
venture ; upon which he immediately departs. 

" The lady, it appears, dispatched him 
to the garden of Medusa*, for so it was called, 
that he might find a cure for his love in ab- 
sence and in travel : or, if he reached the spot, 
might find there a yet surer remedy for his 
distemper. For the sight of Medusa, who was 
to be found standing under the wonderful tree, 
occasioned every one to forget the errand he 
came on, and, if he had any speech with the 
dame, his very name and self. 

" Prasildo, departing on this forlorn enter- 
prise, traversed Egypt, and arriving near the 

* Designed, I suppose, as the type of conscience ; as one 
" whose sight would make him forget the errand on which he 
came," &c. 


mountains of Barca, encounters an old man, to 
whom he relates the object of his expedition. 

" The old man assures him that fortune could 
not have directed him to a better counsellor, and 
immediately furnishes him with his instructions. 

" He begins by telling him that the gates of 
Life and of Death are never used as entrances 
to the enchanted enclosure ; and that it is only 
through the gate of Poverty that man can pene- 
trate into the garden of Medusa. He next 
informs him that Medusa herself guards the 


marvellous tree; whose appearance deprives 
whoever sets eyes on her of his memory ; but 
that she is to be terrified into flight by the re- 
flection of her own face. 

" He therefore counsels Prasildo to provide 
himself with a shield of looking-glass, being in 
other respects naked ; for such appearance is 
a fitting guise for entering the gate of Poverty. 
This (he observes) is the most terrible and the 
most severely guarded of all, being watched by 


Misery and Shame, Cold, Hunger, Melancholy, 
and Scorn. " There," said he, " is to be seen 
Roguery stretched upon the ground, and cover- 
ed with itch, and (in strange union,) Industry 
and Laziness, Compassion and Desperation. 

" Having succeeded in the enterprise, 
and torn off a branch of the tree, you will 
seek the opposite gate," he pursues, " by 
which you are to retreat; and will there find 
Wealth seated, and on the watch. Here you are 
to make an offering of a portion of the branch, 
that Avarice, who plays the porter, may open to 
you quickly ; a wretch who asks the more, the 
more you give. Here, too, you will see Pomp 
and Honour, Flattery and Hospitality, Am- 
bition, Grandeur, and Favour : then Inquietude 
and Torment, Jealousy, Suspicion, Fear, So- 
licitude, and Terror. Behind the door stand 
Hate, and Envy with a bow for ever bent." 

" Prasildo having received his full instructions, 
now crosses the desert, and, after thirty days' 
journey, arrives at the garden. Here he easily 


passes the gate of Poverty, the entry of which 
no one defends. On the contrary, there ever 
stands some one near it, to encourage and invite. 
" Having entered the inclosure, he advances, 
holding his shield of glass before his eyes ; and 
reaching the tree, against which Medusa was 
leaning, the Fairy, who raises her head at his 
approach, and beholds herself in the mirror, 
takes to flight ; scared, it seems, by seeing re- 
flected in it the head of a serpent; though 
in other eyes her beauty is divine.* Prasildo, 
hearing the Fairy fly, uncovers his eyes, which 
were before protected by his shield, and leaving 
her to escape, goes directly to the tree, from 
which he severs a branch. Then, pursuing the 
directions received, makes for the opposite gate, 

* The circumstance of Medusa not being able to contem- 
plate the reflection of her own hideous appearance, though 
beautiful in the sight of others ; the fact of no one being able 
to win the golden bough which she kept, but by refraining from 
looking her in the face; and other circumstances, confirm the 
conjecture which I have hazarded in a preceding note. 


where he sees Wealth, surrounded by her fol- 
lowers. This gate, which is of load-stone, never 
opens without noise, and is for the most part 
shut : Fatigue and Fraud are the guides who 
conduct to it. It is, however, sometimes open ; 
but requires both luck and courage to enable 
any one to profit by the chance. It was open 
the day Prasildo came, and he made the offering 
of half the bough, as he was instructed, and 
escaped with the remainder of his prize. 

" Transported with pleasure, he issues from 
the garden, passes through Nubia, crosses the 
Arabian Gulf with a fair wind, and journeys 
day and night till he arrives in Babylon. 

" Arrived there, he sends immediate news of 
his success to Tisbina, who is in an agony at 
learning the unexpected result of her device. 
Iroldo is rendered equally miserable, but insists 
upon the necessity of her redeeming her 
promise, though he knows he cannot survive its 
execution. She feels that she can as ill survive 


Iroldo ; and they at last resolve, that faith must 
be kept with Prasildo, and that they will both die. 
They accordingly send to an aged apothecary 
for a deadly draught, which they divide between 
them ; and each having swallowed a due portion, 
Iroldo covers his face and throws himself on 
his bed, while the yet more miserable Tisbina 
proceeds to the residence of Prasildo. Here 
she attempts to dissemble her sorrow and to 
feign a cheerfulness, foreign to her heart. But 
Prasildo detects the imposture, and at last ex- 
torts a full confession of the truth. This de- 
clared, he reproaches her, as having little faith 
in his generosity, with a bursting heart renounces 
the proffered happiness, and dismisses her with 
an affectionate kiss. 

" Tisbina, who had assured him that if she 
had known him first, she should have loved 
him as devotedly as she did her husband, 
now departs, overflowing with gratitude, and 
returns to Iroldo who was still unaffected by 
the draught, but prostrate on the bed. She 


relates to him the sacrifice of her lover. The 
husband springs from his couch, thanks God 
for this last mercy, and invokes every blessing 
upon the head of Prasildo. While he is yet 
praying, he sees the countenance of Tisbina 
change, who sinks, as if overcome by sleep. 
The husband sees the operation of the drink 
with horror, and is transported from his short 
fit of pleasure, to a state of the most agonizing 

" The situation of Prasildo is scarcely 
less intolerable ; who locked himself up in his 
chamber, in order to indulge his grief in soli- 
tude, upon the departure of Tisbina. While 
he is shut up in darkness, the ancient apothe- 
cary calls, and tells his valet that Prasildo's life 
depends upon his immediate admission to him. 
The valet was a native of Casazzo, of a merry 
humour and full of faith and attachment, diligent, 
active, and experienced in all his duties ; but of 
a frankness which sometimes gave his master 
G 2 


offence. This man, having a master-key, ad- 
mits the apothecary ; who excusing the intru- 
sion by his zeal for Prasildo's repose, informs 
him that he had that morning furnished the 
chambermaid of Tisbina with a potion, by her 
mistress's order, which he believed was des- 
tined for his destruction, as Tisbina had been 
shortly afterwards traced to his house ; but adds, 
that he need be under no apprehension, even if 
he has swallowed the draught: since, in the 
apprehension of mischief, he had substituted a 
mere sleeping-potion, the effects of which were 
only calculated to last for a few hours. 

" Prasildo, transported with joy, immediately 
flies in search of Iroldo, whose stronger con- 
stitution had as yet resisted the soporific, and 
informs him of the joyful tidings of the apothe- 
cary. Iroldo receives the news in such a manner 
as might have been expected, and concludes with 
making Prasildo a return such as he had never 
looked for. In a transport of gratitude, he 


insists on his receiving Tisbina, and accordingly 
departs from Babylon, leaving her yet asleep. 
On waking, she is combated by opposing feel- 
ings ; but at length, as the generosity of Pra- 
sildo had made more impression on her heart, 
than she was willing to confess, even to herself, 
yields to Iroldo's will, and takes Prasildo for 
her husband." rs 


The damsel was yet speaking, when a loud 
cry was heard, which filled her with con- Jr 

sternation. Rinaldo however, re-assuring her 
as he best could, pressed forward through the 
wood (for they were then in the centre of one) 
towards the quarter from which it proceeded. 

He soon perceived a giant standing under a 
vaulted cavern, with a large club in his hand, 
and of an appearance to have struck the boldest 
spirit with dread. On each side of the cavern 
was chained a griffin, who, together with the 
giant, were stationed there for the protection of 
the horse which was once Argalia's. 
G 3 


This monster of enchantment was the creature. 
For of a mare, composed of spark and flame, 
(Strange wonder, and beyond the laws of nature) 
Made pregnant by the wind, the courser came ; 
Matchless in vigour, speed, and form and feature. 
Such was his birth, and Rabican his name : 
Who, with his fellow-steeds, disdain'd to share 
The proffer'd corn or grass, and fed on air. 

This marvellous horse being driven away by 
Ferrau, in the wood of Arden, previous to his 
fatal encounter with Argalia, who had possessed 
himself of him by enchantment, on finding him- 
self at liberty, returned to his native cavern, and 
was here stabled under the protection of the 
giant and the griffins. Towards these Rinaldo 
advances with deliberate valour, over ground 
whitened with the bones of their victims. He 
is the first to smite at the giant, but his stroke 
is rendered of no effect by the enchanted helmet 
of his adversary. In a second blow he is more 


fortunate; but his adversary, though wounded 
near the heart, escapes, and looses his griffins. 
One of these immediately seizes the giant by 
a foot: rises with him into the sky, hovers 
over Rinaldo's head, and at length drops 
his burden, with intent to crush the intruder. 
Rinaldo, however, who was as remarkable for 
his activity, as for his strength and courage, 
shuns the descending mischief, and the giant 
falls to the ground crushed, without harm to the 
paladin. In the meantime, the other griffin, 
having towered in air, pounces upon Rinaldo, 
who, watching his opportunity, wounds her des- 
perately in her descent. She has, however, 
strength enough to soar a second flight, and 
swooping upon Rinaldo's helmet, loosens its 
circle with her claws ; tear it she could not, 
since this was the enchanted helmet, which was 
once the head-piece of Mambrino. 

In this manner the griffin repeats her attacks, 
and Rinaldo fends and parries as he can ; while 
G 4 


the damsel stands trembling near, and witnesses 
the contest. 

The battle still continued, rendered more ter- 
rible by the approach of night ; when Rinaldo, 
fearing he should not be able to distinguish 
his enemy, determined upon a desperate ex- 
pedient, in order to bring it to a conclusion. 
He fell, as if fainting from his wounds, and on 
the close approach of the griffin, dealt her a 
blow, which sheared away one of her wings. 
The beast, though sinking, griped him fast with 
her talons, digging through plate and mail : 
but Rinaldo plied his sword in utter desper- 
ation, and at last accomplished her destruc- 

The damsel now entreats Rinaldo to mount 
and proceed; but he thinks the adventure ill 
accomplished, and proceeds towards the en- 
trance of the cavern. This was secured by a 


Whose marble pannel a mosaic fill'd 

Of pearl and emerald, sown with care so nice ; 
That he who saw the piece, if little skill'd, 
Might deem it was a treasure passing price. 
In the mid-picture lay a damsel kill'd ; 
And, writ in golden letters, the device 
This legend bore : " Let whoso passes, plight 

" His word to 'venge my death, and do me right ; 

" Or he shall die the death ; but if he swear 
" To slay the traitor who my death design'd ; 
" The enchanted courser shall the warrior bear, 
" A courser that is swifter than the wind." 

The prince stopt not to think ; but plighted there 

In solemn form, his promise, as enjoin'd ; 

His promise to avenge, alive or dead, 

The slaughter'd damsel's blood, unjustly shed. 


Then enters, and beholds the courser tied 
With chains of gold, so famous for his speed. 
With foot-cloth of white silk he was supplied, 
And all things else convenient for his need. 
Tho' coal-black all the rest, the tail was pied, 
And starred with white the forehead of the steed ; 
And white one foot behind. Bayardo's might 
Was more : but this had pass'd a dart in flight. 

Rinaldo is delighted with his adventure, and, 
while surveying the steed, beholds a book, 
secured by a chain, in which was written in 
blood the history of the damsel's death. 

The book related that Truffaldino, king of 
Baldacca, had a count for his neighbour, dis- 
tinguished for his virtues and accomplishments, 
whom that evil-minded prince misliked on that 
very account. His name was Orisello, and 
Montefalcon was that of the castle where he 
resided. This lord had a sister as distinguished 
for her merit, called Albarosa, who loved Po- 
lindo, a noble knight of equal virtue and daring. 


The castle was built upon a rock, and so well 
fortified, that Truffaldino, who had warred 
upon the count, though he had made several 
assaults upon it, had always been defeated in 
his attempts. 

Things being in this state, Polindo, who had 
a great love for travel, and often wandered from 
court to court, arrived at that of Truffaldino; 
who, for his own evil views, shewed him great 
favour, and having acquired his confidence, 
promised him assistance in his designs upon 
Albarosa. As a means of forwarding these, he 
presents him with a castle of pleasure, situated 
a day's journey from Montefalcon ; and Po- 
lindo having persuaded Albarosa to elope with 
him, carries her thither ; but while they are 
supping together, with infinite delight, Truffal- 
dino, who had entered the castle by a subter- 
raneous passage, unknown to its new possessor, 
breaks in upon them with a party of his retain- 
ers, and binds them both. He then dictates a 


letter to the lady, which he orders her to send 
to her brother Orisello, in order to decoy him 
into his hands. She refuses ; when the tyrant 
puts her to the torture, in the presence of 
Polindo, before whose eyes she expires, re- 
fusing compliance with her latest breath. 

Rinaldo, having read this dreadful history, 
swears anew to avenge the treason, and, mounted 
upon Rabican, issues forth from the cavern. 
He and the damsel, however, have not ridden 
far, when the light fails them in a forest, where 
they dismount, secure their horses, and compose 
themselves to rest. 

Beside the maid with zest Rinaldo sleeps ; 

For him, nor time, nor place, nor beauty move. 
From whence we learn the antidote, which keeps 
The heart and mind from that which is above 
All other cure ; that he, who sows and reaps, 
Or tilts and tourneys, never dies of love : 
But in this book I am ill read, nor can 
Bolt, as I would, such matters to the bran. 


And now the air on every side grew light, 

Though the sun shew'd not yet his golden ray ; 
With few and fading stars the sky was dight, 
And the glad birds rang out their matin lay. 
Such was the season, neither day nor night ; 
When the maid view'd Rinaldo where he lay ; 
Who from her grassy couch before had crept, 
And watch'd the weary warrior as he slept. 

Of lively visage, though composed to rest, 
The lusty knight in early youth appear'd, 
Light in the flanks, and large across the chest ; 
And on his lip scarce bloom'd the manly beard. 
On him the damsel gazed with alter'd breast, 
To her by new-discovered gifts endear'd : 
For slumber ever gives the sleeper's face 
I know not what of loveliness and grace. 

While the damsel is engaged in contemplat- 
ing the knight, she is startled by a loud roar, 
and turning, sees a centaur with a live lion, 
which he had just taken, hi one hand, and a 


club and three darts in the other. Rinaldo is 
at the same time awakened by the sound, 
and grasping his shield, or rather the rem- 
nant of it, which had been left by the griffin, 
advances to her assistance. 

The centaur now leaves his prey, and flying 
to a little distance, launches his darts at the pa- 
ladin. These he avoids by his agility, when the 
monster returns and charges him with his club. 
Rinaldo, thus pressed, shelters himself, by 
placing his back against a pine, and maintains 
the combat with Fusberta. The centaur, who 
had at first seemed to have the advantage, in 
being able to curvet about the knight, and 
threaten him behind and before, finding himself 
deprived of this double means of annoyance, 
leaves him, and gallops after the damsel, who had 
in the meantime seated herself upon her palfrey. 
From this he snatches her in fury, throws her 
on his own croup, and flies with her through 
the forest. 


Rinaldo, who is this while engaged in mount- 
ing Rabican, follows ; and, such is the swiftness 
of his horse, is almost immediately up with the 
beast ; who, being overtaken on the brink of a 
rapid river, casts his burden into the stream, 
which carries it away. Rinaldo and the cen- 
taur again join in battle ; at first on the shore, 
and afterwards in the water. The paladin at 
length slays his savage opponent : but having 
slain the monster, is in doubt what course to 

He at last determines to proceed in the 
adventure in which he had embarked, being 
especially moved thereto, by the hope of de- 
livering Orlando. Deprived then of the guid- 
ance of the poor damsel, he resolves to steer 
the same northern course in which she had 
before directed him. 

Here, however, according to the author, 
Turpin leaves the story to return to Albraccn. 
Agrican was left there, surrounded and alone, 


in the midst of his enemies. Whilst he is thus 
reduced to the last extremities, he is saved by 
the very circumstance which threatened him 
with destruction. The soldiers of Angelica, 
closing upon him from all parts, had deserted 
their defences, and his own besieging army enter 
these pell mell, in a part where the wall is 

In this way was Agrican rescued, the city taken 
by storm, and the miserable inhabitants put to 
the sword. Angelica, however, with some of 
the kings who were her defenders, and amongst 
whom was Truffaldino, saved herself in the cita- 
del, which was planted upon a rock. Hither 
also came Sacripant when all beside was lost. 

But though the situation of the fortress ren- 
dered it impregnable, it was scantily victualled 
and ill provided with other necessaries besides 
food. Under these circumstances, Angelica 
announced to those blockaded with her in the 
citadel, her intention to go in quest of assist- 


ance ; and, having plighted her promise to 

come back within a certain period, set out, 

f*"- L*. } 2. 

with the enchanted ring upon her finger. **?"** * 

Mounted on her palfrey, the damsel passed 
through the enemies' camp at night, without 
having occasion to avail herself of the talisman, 
and by sun- rise was many miles clear of their 

She at length arrives near Orgagna in Cir- 
cassia, and here encounters an old man weeping 
bitterly, who entreats her assistance on behalf 
of his only son, who is dying of a fever. The 
damsel, who was well skilled in medicine, pro- 
mises succour, turns her palfrey, and accom- 
panies the elder. 

This old man was a traitor, and his story * \ 
a fiction, formed for the pui'pose of getting 
her into his hands. He was, it seems, employed 
to inveigle and capture damsels for the king 
of Orgagna, and for this purpose brought those 
who followed him to a tower, built over a river, 


which served him as a dungeon for his prison- 
ers. Angelica following him thither, the door 
closed upon her, and she found herself a cap- 

33 live with many other dames and damsels. 
^2 d Amongst these was Flordelis, the lady of Bran- 
dimart, who, when cast into the river by the 
centaur, had drifted with the current, and was 
taken up more dead than alive, by the wicked 
elder. She now relates her adventures to An- 
gelica, and tells her how she was going, accom- 
panied by Rinaldo, to the garden of Dragontina, 
where Orlando, Brandimart, and many other 
valiant knights were enchanted by that fairy. 

Angelica treasures up their history in her 
mind, as useful to the purpose which she had 

^ \ in hand, and on the door of the tower opening, 
to admit a new victim, slips the ring into her 
mouth and escapes. 

Being again at liberty, she sets out for the 
garden of Dragontina, and, entering it unseen, 
disenchants Orlando, Brandimart, and the rest, 


by a touch of her talisman. These she con- 
jures to assist her in the recovery of her king- 
dom, and all depart together for Albracca. 

In the meantime a revolution had taken place 
in the citadel of that metropolis. Truffaldino, 
always false, had surprised Sacripant, and the 
other wounded princes in their beds, and 
cast them into prison. This done, he sent a 
messenger to Agrican, with an offer to deliver 6 2- 
the fortress into his hands. Agrican, however, 
received the proposal in a manner little ex- 
pected by Truffaldino, whom he reviled as a 
traitor and a coward ; declared that he would 
never be indebted to fraud, for that which he 
could have by force; said he knew the extre- 
mities of the garrison, which must soon be his, 
and declared, that as soon as the place was in 
his possession, he would hang up Truffaldino 
by the heels. 

Soon after this, Orlando, with his friendly ^ *> 
squadron of knights (nine in number), with 
H 2 


Angelica in the midst of them, arrives before 
Albracca; and charging through the camp of 
Agrican, arrives at the foot of the citadel : this 
is, however, kept against them by Truffaldino, 
who appears upon the walls, and declares that 
he will only admit Orlando and his followers, 
on their swearing to protect him for ever from 
the vengeance of Sacripant and the others; 
whom, for his own safety, he has been under 
the necessity of casting into prison. Orlando 
indignantly refuses ; but, conjured by Angelica, 
consents ; as do the others who accompany 
him ; and after the oath has been taken as en- 
joined, the squadron enters the fortress. 

This, however, is found so destitute of food, 
that a sally is resolved upon for the purpose of 
provisioning it : it is to be made by Orlando, 
Brandimart, Adrian, Clarion, and Uberto of the 
Lion ; while Gryphon and Aquilant remain at 
home for the protection of Angelica and the 


Orlando and his friends having made the 
warder lower his drawbridge, ride boldly to- 
wards the enemy's camp ; and Agrican, mark- 
ing their scanty number, bids his squadrons 
stand apart, and leave a fair field for himself 
and Orlando, who engage in a desperate duel. 
While they are employed in this, with little 
vantage on either side, and to their mutual as- 
tonishment at finding themselves so equally 
matched, a loud larum is heard from the citadel, 
which announces the arrival of succours. 

This was an army, raised by Galaphron, for 
the relief of Albracca ; the vanguard commanded 
by a vassal giant; the second body by Mar- 
phisa, a young Indian queen, who had made 
a vow in her infancy, never to lay aside her 
armour, till she had taken three kings prisoners, 
to wit, Charlemagne, Gradasso, and Agrican ; 
while the rear-guard was conducted by Gala- 
phron himself. The van-guard, led by the 
giant, is immediately engaged with the besiegers; 
H 3 


and its leader, armed with an immense hammer, 
deals such destruction amongst their ranks, that 
all is speedily in confusion and disarray. 

Agrican, witnessing the rout of his followers, 
now entreats Orlando, for his lady's love, that 
their combat may be suspended till the morrow, 
in order to give him an opportunity of rallying 
the fugitives. This Orlando not only grants, 
but offers to assist him in his design. The 
offer is, however, courteously declined by Agri- 
can, who, flying in pursuit of the giant, unhorses 
him, and leaves him desperately wounded to 
the daggers of his followers. He himself 
charges the troops who come under the giant's 
conduct ; and the tide of battle is turned. 

No attempt to stop the confusion of the van- 
guard is made by Marphisa, who this time was 
retired from the field, and sleeping under a 


But first the queen her chamber-wench bespoke. 

" Attend to my command," Marphisa said, 

" And when thou seest our Indian army broke, 

" And Galaphron, its royal leader, dead, 

" When all these things shall be, 'twere time I 

u Then, bring my steed and rouse me from my 


' But till these things shall be, such care delay, 
" 'Tis then this single arm shall change the day." 

Galaphron now observing the rout of his van- 
guard, determines to retrieve things, or perish 
in the attempt. With this resolution he spurs 
towards the enemy ; when Angelica, beholding 
his danger from the walls, sends a messenger to 
Orlando, to entreat his assistance for her 
father ; reminding him that he fought beneath 
her eyes. 

The author here leaves the story suspended, \ 
and returns to Rinaldo ; who journeying. north- 
ward, in the direction which Flordelis, the 
H 4- 



damsel of Brandimart, had first given him, 
arrives at a fountain ; where he finds a cavalier 
weeping upon the ground. Having long ob- 
served his grief in silence, he at length dis- 
mounts from his horse, and entreats the sorrow- 
ing knight to inform him of its cause. 

The stranger tells him that his misery is such 
as can find no remedy but in death : nor does 
the fear of that oppress him ; but the know- 
ledge that his death must be followed by that 
of another, llinaldo entreats him to explain 
how this can be, and prevails on him to relate 
his history at length. 

This the stranger began in the following 
manner : " About twenty days' journey from 
hence is situated the famous city of Babylon, 
of which Tisbina was the wonder ; a lady 
alike renowned for her charms and virtues. 
Of this treasure I became the possessor; yet, 
having possessed her, found it my cruel duty to 
vield her to another. For two vears afterwards 


I wandered, almost deprived of my reason ; but 
time at last brought with it some alleviation of 
my sorrow. To this common remedy of grief 
was united the reflection that I had resigned 
her to the most viituous and most courteous of 
men ; and that, however dear it might cost me, 
it was impossible to repent my sacrifice. 

" While I was thus wandering, my evil fortune 
led me into Orgagna, whose rightful king, Po- 
liphernus, was absent with the army of Agrican ; 
his kingdom having, during his absence, fallen 
into the possession of an evil woman, who makes 
all strangers her prey. This enchantress (for 
such she is), whose name is Falerina, has a 
beautiful garden, which is only open towards 
the east; where a serpent keeps the gate, to 
whom Falerina gives her unfortunate prisoners 
to be devoured. The names of these are 
paired, a cavalier and a lady, according to the 
order of their arrival ; and a couple is thus 
every day offered to the monster. 


" I was amongst the prisoners of Falerina ; 
when tidings of my imprisonment, for my 
greater misfortune, reached the ears of Prasildo, 
the noble gentleman to whom I had relin- 
quished Tisbina. Unknown to me, he imme- 
diately set out for the enchanted garden, loaded 
with treasure, with which he attempted to 
accomplish my release. All his endeavours, 
however, were vain ; and desperate of accom- 
plishing it in any other way, he offered himself 
as a victim in my place. This offer was ac- 
cepted : I was thrust out of the dungeon, and 
he remains a prisoner in my stead. This day 
is that appointed for his sacrifice, which shall 
not be consummated, whilst I am alive : for it 
is my resolution, when he is led out of prison to 
be conducted to the place of punishment, to 
attack his guards and perish in his defence. 
My single source of grief is, that I shall not be 
able to purchase his deliverance with my life." 

Rinaldo bids the stranger be of better 


cheer, and offers to join him in the attack of 
Prasildo's guards, to which Iroldo, who con- 
ceives this will be a useless sacrifice of life, very 
unwillingly accedes. 

The issue of the attempt is, however, very 
different from what Iroldo had anticipated. 
The rabble, who were conducting two prisoners 
to the place of execution, are set upon by the 
knights, and scattered on all sides ; principally 
by the valour of Rinaldo. 

In the male prisoner Iroldo recognizes Pra- 
sildo, as he had expected ; and the damsel turns 
out to be Flordelis. Rinaldo is now impatient 
to crown his victory with the destruction of 
the enchanted garden ; but the damsel, his 
former guide, after vainly seeking to terrify him 
by a description of the various monsters and 
enchantments by which it was guarded, reminds 
him of the imprisonment of Orlando, and his 
unaccomplished promise to achieve the destruc- 
tion of the garden of Dragontina. This con- 


sideration prevails over his anxiety to demolish 
that of Falerina; and in company with his 
two friends and the damsel, who all become 
Christians in admiration of his prowess and in 
gratitude for their deliverance, proceeds on his 
journey towards the garden of Dragontina. 

This however had been previously de- 
stroyed and effaced, even to the last vestige, by 
the talisman of Angelica. 

The knights, pursuing their journey towards 
its former situation, meet on their way a fu- 
gitive from Agrican's army ; who gives such an 
account of the prowess of a champion who 
fought upon the part of Angelica, that Rinaldo 
is persuaded this must have been Orlando ; 
though all are at a loss to imagine how he 
could have been freed. They had not pro- 
ceeded much farther, when they saw a warrior 
under some trees, to whom a damsel was pre- 
senting a horse. This warrior Flordelis recog- 
nized by her bearings for Marphisa, and who* 1 " 


she especially counselled her companions to 
avoid. They, however, and more especially 
Rinaldo, treated the caution with contempt, 
and made boldly towards the virago. 

As she is just mounting, to defy them to the 
joust, she is approached by an elderly man, all 
in tears, who relates the overthrow of Gala- 
phron's vanguard, and entreats her assistance; 
which she promises to bestow, as soon as she 
shall have unhorsed and taken the approaching 

Advancing against them, she first encounters 
and overthrows Iroldo and Prasildo in suc- 
cession, who are made prisoners by some of 
Marphisa's followers, that were in waiting, to- 
gether with the attendant damsel. She next 
meets Rinaldo, and breaks upon him an enor- 
mous lance, which had never yet failed her. 
Rinaldo too breaks his upon the damsel, and 
both, casting away their broken spears, encoun- 
ter with their swords. Here Rinaldo's dextrous 


skill in defence, and the superior temper of 
Fusberta, give him a temporary advantage ; 
and in parrying a blow of his opponent, he 
beats the faulchion out of her hand. Full of 
fury, the virago deals him a deadly blow on the 
face with her gauntletted hand in return, and 
makes him reel in his saddle; while Rabican 
wheels round and carries off his half-stupefied 
rider. Marphisa instantly springs to ground 
and regains her sword, and Rinaldo recovering 
himself again spurs his courser to the en- 

In the mean time, Orlando, at the command 
of Angelica, had galloped to the assistance of 
Galaphron, at the head of his brave companions, 
and had again changed the fortune of the day. 
He and Agrican now meet a second time in 
the medley, and renew the contest with more 
fury than before; and Agrican, being at last 
convinced that it will be impossible for him to 


effect any thing against Albracca but by the 
destruction of Orlando, determines to bring the 
battle to a desperate issue, and in order to get 
his adversary into a place where they shall be 
secure from interruption, feigns to fly; and is 
followed by Orlando to an open space in a wood, 
in the middle of which is a fountain. Here, 
after mutual reproaches, they again charge 
each other with their swords, and still with 
doubtful success. Night closes upon the com- 
batants, who have passed the greater part of 
the day in the interchange of blows. 

The two champions again suspend their 
combat almost of necessity, and agree upon a 
truce till day-light. They accordingly lie 
down together and engage in a friendly con- 
versation. During this Agrican makes out his 
antagonist to be Orlando; and Orlando seizes 
the opportunity to attempt his conversion. 
Agrican, however, receives the proposal with 


utter contempt, and observes that love and 
arms are the only subjects of conversation 
becoming a knight. 

This change of theme almost necessarily 
leads to the mention of Angelica, and the 
rivals, being kindled by the discourse which 
ensues between them, into new animosity, re- 
mount their horses and attack each other in 
the dark. 

The contest is thus continued with various 
success, and day breaks upon this desperate 
and unheard-of duel. At length, however, the 
fortune of Orlando prevails, and he after re- 
ceiving many desperate contusions (for wounded 
he could not be), inflicts a deadly gash in his 
adversary's side. 

Agrican is now deserted by his lofty spirit, 
and demands baptism from the hands of 
Orlando : 


While tears descending bathed his manly face, 
The gentle count dismounted to his aid, 
Then locked the wounded knight in his embrace, 
Upon the fountain's grassy border laid : 
And kiss'd his fading lips, and sought his grace, 
And of the mischief done forgiveness prayed. 
The speechless Tartar king his head inclin'd, 
And with the cross his brows Orlando sign'd. 

When having to his sorrow found that he 
Was breathless, and all vital warmth was fled ; 
He weened his gallant spirit was set free, 
And by the crystal fountain left him dead ; 
Clad as he was in armour cap-a-pe, 
With sword in hand, and crown upon his head : 
Then first towards his courser turn'd his view, 
And in that steed the good Bayardo knew. 

He is assured of this by a closer examination 
of the gentle horse, who comes neighing to 
greet the kinsman and comrade of his master. 


Mounted upon him, and leading his own Brig- 
liadoro, the count leaves the place, but has not 
rode far, before he hears the clash of weapons ; 
when, having first secured Brigliadoro, he rides 
in the direction of the sound ; and, guided by it, 
discovers a damsel, whom three giants were 
conducting, with a camel and much treasure, 
which they had carried away by force. One of 
the giants had charge of the lady ; while the 
other two maintained a combat with a cavalier : 
but this story is broken off, by the author, who 
hastens to tell the effects, produced by the death 
of Agrican. 

All was rout and dismay in the Tartarian 
army; and Galaphron entering the enemy's 
camp, set free Astolpho and the other prison- 
ers, who were detained there. Astolpho is 
scarcely presented to Angelica, before he de- 
mands the means of avenging himself on the 
enemy, and being furnished with a horse and 
arms, immediately returns into the field. Here 


he is fortunate enough to meet one clad in his own 
armour, and armed with the enchanted lance. 

Of these he immediately repossesses himself, 
and joins Galaphron and his troops, who had 
pursued the flying enemy to the banks of a river, 
fast by where Rinaldo and Marphisa were still 
engaged. Marphisa was protected by enchant- 
ed harness, yet was armed with but half a 
sword ; which, as related, was severed by Fus- 
berta. On the other hand, the greater part of 
Rinaldo's defensive armour had been hewed 

Galaphron instantly knows Marphisa by her 
cognizance, but is at a loss to distinguish Ri- 
naldo; till, observing Rabican, who had be- 
longed to Argalia, he conceived that he saw in 
him the murderer of his son. Under this 
persuasion he rode at Rinaldo, and smote him 
with all his force, when Marphisa, enraged at 
this interference, immediately turned her arms 
against her aged commander. Brandimart and 
i 2 


others coming up, rescue him from the hands 
of the virago, whom they take for some war- 
rior of the Tartar troops ; when Rinaldo, as 
generous as Marphisa, not enduring to see his 
former enemy overlaid with odds, joins her 
against those with whom she is now engaged. 
The main body of Galaphron's army coming up, 
reinforces the enemies of Marphisa ; who is on 
her part supported by the arrival of her own 
division, by whose succour, joined to that of 
Rinaldo, she is enabled to repel the assailants. 

All this time, Iroldo, Prasildo, and Flordelis, 
were standing at some distance, and the damsel 
of Marphisa, was entertaining them with a 
history of the feats and prowess of her mis- 
tress. Flordelis is by this alarmed for the 
safety of Brandimart, one of the first who had 
assailed Marphisa, and goes in search of him 
amongst the warriors, whom the virago and 
Rinaldo had scattered, and who were making, 
in utter rout and confusion, for Albracca. She, 


however, to her infinite content, finds him safe 
and standing apart from the fray, he having 
separated from the enemies of Marphisa, 
after she was oppressed by numbers. The 
happy lovers, thus re-united, retire into a 
neighbouring wood, and after giving a loose 
to their mutual tenderness fall asleep upon the 

Here, however, a new and unexpected peril 
was impending. Their caresses were unfortu- 
nately overseen by a hermit, who dabbled in 
necromancy, and who, excited by the beauties 
of Flordelis, determined on making her his 
prize. Among other secrets, he was possessed 
of a root, which had the faculty of throwing 
the person to whom it was applied, provided 
it touched any part of the naked body, into a 
profound and indissoluble sleep. Armed with 
this, he approaches Flordelis, lifts her coats, 
and applies it to her thigh. Having thus so 
riveted her natural slumber, that he was sure 
i 3 


she could not wake for an hour to come, the 
hermit snatches her up, and bears her off; 
being afraid to try the virtues of his root upon 
Brandimart, lest he should awake before the 
charm was consummated. 

Brandimart slept soundly till he was awaken- 
ed by a loud noise. At the same moment he 
missed Flordelis : yet, notwithstanding his un- 
utterable grief, approached the quarter, from 
whence the sound proceeded, in which he dis- 
tinguished the cries of a woman in distress. 

On his arrival he found three giants, who 
were conducting a file of camels. Two of them 
followed, and another preceded the string, 
leading one, on which was seated a damsel, 
with dishevelled hair and weeping bitterly. In 
her Brandimart believed that he recognised Flor- 
delis, and galloped in fury against the ravishers. 

The giants instantly prepare to resist him, 
and in the combat which follows, he is put to 
great peril, and loses his horse. 


It is at this moment that Orlando, who had 
lately slain Agrican, comes to his succour. His 
assistance renders the combat more equal : but 
Brandimart, though he has killed one of the 
giants, is beaten down by another. Orlando, 
however, avenges him on his enemy, and clears 
the field. He has now leisure to look to his 
bleeding friend, and finding there is yet life in 
him, consigns him to the care of the rescued 
damsel, who applies the proper medicaments to 
his wounds. 

. Marphisa and Rinaldo were this while still 
in full pursuit of their enemies, who found 
refuge within the citadel of Albracca. Marphisa 
having chased them up to the gates, menaced 
Galaphron with vengeance; and, indeed, she 
and Rinaldo had now a common cause. Mar- 
phisa on account of her recent quarrel with 
her former leader; and Rinaldo since the 
fountain of hate had disposed him to enmity 
with Angelica, and the oath, he had sworn on 
i 4 


winning Rabican, bound him to take vengeance 
on Truffaldino, one of her defenders. They 
accordingly sit down before the place, and, 
on the second day, Rinaldo appears beneath 
the walls, sounds his horn and defies TruiTal- 
dino, king of Baldacca by the titles of traitor, 
renegado and tyrant. 

There were at. this time, within the fortress, 
many warriors who had sworn to defend him 
against Sacripant and Torindo, whom he had 
imprisoned, and against all others whatsoever. 
Truffaldino calls on these to fulfil their engage- 
ment, and several knights, with the traitor king 
in the midst of them, descend from the citadel 
to do battle with Rinaldo, on his behalf. 

These were the brothers Gryphon and 
Aquilant, who had enchanted horse and armour ; 
Uberto, Adrian, and Clarion. They attack 
Rinaldo singly and successively. He soon 
defeats the two first comers, but he finds him- 
self better matched with Gryphon of the 


enchanted arms ; with whom he engages in a 
long and doubtful battle, after a fruitless ex- 
postulation and attempt to negotiate on the part 
of Gryphon. ^) 

Leaving these, the author returns to Brandi- 
mart ; who, restored to life by the skill of the 
damsel, whom he and Orlando rescued from 
the giants, is rendered desperate by the dis- 
covery, that she is not Flordelis. He curses 
the hour in which he was rescued from death, 
as well as that in which he was born, and 
recapitulates all the circumstances of his life in 
the following apostrophe : 

" Thou took'st me, Fortune, from a royal dome, 
" (Such early blow thy deadly malice gave ;) 
" And I, thus ravished from my noble home, 
" In other lands was sold to be a slave ; 
" And now, long doomed in foreign climes to roam, 
" But her remember to whose breasts I clave ; 
" (My father's and my country's name effaced,) 
" My mother's in my mind is only traced. 


" Never did evil destiny so lour, 

" As upon me ; to early bondage sold, 

" With one, entitled Lord o' the Sylvan Tower : 

" When, but to make me suffer sevenfold, 

" Softened awhile appear'd the faithless Power ; 

" And the good Master of the Sylvan hold 

" Freed me ; and having none his name to bear, 

" Of his broad lands and living made me heir. 

;< But Fortune had so marked me for her prey, 
" That to fill up the bitter cup of woe, 
" Fairest among the fair, a damsel gay 
" She chose in her displeasure to bestow ; 
" Simply to take the precious prize away. 
" Then can I choose but sink beneath the blow ? 
" O thou, that hast renewed my fleeting breath, 
" Undo thy work, and give me back to death." 

Orlando, and the charitable damsel sympathise 
deeply in his grief; and the lady, to prove, 
at least, that he was not single in his sorrows, 
begins the narration of her own adventures. 


She informs him, that she was daughter and 
heir of the king of the Distant Isles, where all 
the treasure of the earth is accumulated. Gifted 
with beauty and destined to inherit such riches, 
two lovers came to demand her in marriage on 
the same day, Ordauro and Folderico ; the one 
handsome and the other more than seventy 
years old. The first distinguished by his 
prowess, the second by his wisdom and riches. 
The damsel's father inclined hi favour of Fol- 
derico ; but the damsel hoped by a sleight to 
transfer herself to Ordauro. 

She had accordingly obtained a boon from 
the monarch ; and this was, that no one should 
have her to wife, who had not previously 
vanquished her in the foot-race. By this, she 
considered herself as secure of success; but 
Folderico countermined her stratagem. Being 
paired with her in the course, he had recourse 
to the expedient of dropping three golden 
apples, and the damsel was distanced by the 


same means as Atalanta. Thus the old man 
won his wife ; who, however, determined on 
taking such vengeance as was in her power. 

Here the lady, who was her own histo- 
rian, observed Brandimart's distraction ; who 
being charged with it, confessed that he had 
neither eyes nor ears but for Flordelis, and 
that he should never regain possession of him- 
self, till she was found. On this the damsel 
and Orlando, who was mounted on Bayardo, 
and had resigned his Brigliadoro to Brandi- 
mart, as before related, offer to accompany him 
in an attempt to recover her, and they imme- 
diately proceed upon their search. 

Flordelis, in the interval, had been carried off 
by the hermit to a cave ; where she woke at 
the moment that a lion, who harboured there, 
sprang forth to punish the intrusion of the 
ravisher : who instantly dropt his plunder and 
fled. The beast, however, passing-by the prof- 
fered prey, follows and tears in pieces the 


hermit who had cast it down. Flordelis, while 
he is thus employed, escapes. 

She, however, only gains a present respite 
from misfortune ; for, flying at random, she 
falls into the hands of a hairy savage in the 
forest, who binds her to a tree with twigs ; and 
then, gazing stupidly upon her, casts himself 
down at a little distance. 

Brandimart was this while in pursuit of her, 
in the same wood, accompanied by Orlando 
and the damsel of the golden apples, who was 
seated upon his courser's croup. Orlando now 
entreats that she will finish her story, which she 

Folderico who had won the damsel, carried 
her to a tower, which he possessed upon the 
sea-shore, called Altamura, where he kept her, 
together with his treasure, under lock and key, 
and utterly secluded from the sight of man. * 

* As the author is indebted to Greek fable for the begin- 
ning, so he is to Norman story for this subsequent adventure, 


But what will not love ? Ordauro who was 
also rich, though not so wealthy as Folderico, 
purchased a sumptuous palace in the imme- 
diate neighbourhood of Altamura, and at an 
immense cost made a subterraneous passage 
from his palace to the damsel's prison ; by 
which he visited and enjoyed her without 
danger. At last, however, the lovers, tired of 
the restraint under which they carried on their 
intercourse, and emboldened by success, de- 
termined to make a desperate effort to escape. 

With this view Ordauro communicates to 
Folderico news of his approaching nuptials with 
another daughter of Monodontes ; for so was 
called the king of the Distant Isles ; and invites 
him, as his brother-in-law, to the marriage 
feast. Folderico having carefully secured the 
gates of his tower, goes thither, and rinding his 

which is taken, with some variation, from an old fabliau. 
See Barbasan's or Le Grand's fabliaux. The story would 
seem to be of Eastern origin. 


wife installed as bride, becomes ferocious at 
the sight. Ordauro, however, with great diffi- 
culty, succeeds in appeasing him, by the assur- 
ance that she was a twin-sister of his own wife, 
to whom she bore a perfect resemblance ; and, 
by bidding him return to his tower and satisfy 
himself of the fact. The means of proof appeared 
decisive, and accordingly Folderico accepts them. 
He finds his locks as they were left, and his wife, 
(who had returned by the subterraneous passage 
and changed her dress,) alone and overcome 
with melancholy. He again takes the way, 
which was somewhat circuitous, to the palace of 
Ordauro, and again finds her there, shining in 
all the festivity of a bride. He can no longer 
resist the conviction that the two persons, whom 
he had seen, were different women ; lays aside 
his distrust, and even offers to convoy the 
bridegroom and his bride on a part of their 
journey towards Ordauro's natural home, to 
which he was returning. 


A certain advantage was thus gained ; since 
Folderico never left his tower, though locked, 
for above an hour, and consequently would 
have soon discovered his loss, if the lovers had 
eloped in secret. 

The party set out together ; and at the end 
of the first day's journey, Folderico turns back 
and gallops to his tower. He is now first 
assured of his disgrace. Full of rage, he pur- 
sues his rival ; but does not dare make any 
attempt to recover his wife, till he has separated 
Ordauro from his adherents. Having effected 
this by a stratagem, he attacks his retainers, 
and repossesses himself of the lady. He is 
destined to a short possession of the prize; for 
he is, on his retui-n, beset by giants, who seize 
her, and all his treasure ; which the wife was 
carrying off as a dowry to her new lord. He 
himself escapes. 

Orlando listened with curiosity to this re- 
lation : but Brandimart, who only thought upon 


Flordelis, separated from his companions in 
order to pursue a separate search. Whilst he 
is engaged in this, he hears her cries, and, di- 
rected by them, finds her bound to the tree. 
He dismounts from his horse to assist her, and 
is about to loosen her bonds, when he is at- 
tacked by the savage, armed with a rustic club 
and shield. This strange woodman is described 
as gifted with extraordinary strength of body, and 
distinguished by some strange propensities : 

He dwelt in woods, and on their produce fed, 
And drank the limpid brook which bubbled by : 
And (such his nature) ever, it is said, 
Wept, when he saw a clear and cloudless sky : 
Since, fearful of the sign, he lived in dread, 
That tempest, clouds, and cold, and rain were nigh, 
But joy'd in thunder and in hail ; since he 
Hoped warmer suns and happier days to see. 

This savage, but for the exclamation of Flor- 
delis, would have surprised Brandimart in the 
act of untying her. Being warned by her of his 


danger, he guarded himself against his attacks, 
which required all his skill and courage to repel. 
He indeed hewed in pieces the rustic weapon 
with which he was armed ; but the monster, 
closing with him, grasped him in his arms, 
and attempted to cast him down a precipice, 
when he fortunately escaped from his embrace. 
The savage finding himself foiled in this 
hope, and weaponless, now flew to a sapling, 
which he was trying to pluck up by its roots, 
when the knight killed him while engaged in the 
attempt. Brandimart now releases Flordelis, 
seats her on his horse's croup, and goes in pur- 
suit of Orlando, from whom he had separated. 

Whilst he is thus engaged, the author re- 
sumes the story of Albracca. Rinaldo was left 
in close combat with Gryphon, whom he at last 
stunned with a desperate blow. When Aqui- 
lant, believing his brother killed, took up the 
conqueror. Gryphon, however, reviving from 
the effects of the stroke, returned to the charge. 


Marphisa seeing Rinaldo thus oppressed with 
odds, came to his assistance ; and others 
again of those sworn to defend Truffaldino, 
who was an unwilling spectator of the fray, 
took part against her and Rinaldo. Orlando 
was, this while, pursuing his way in search of 
Brandimart, while Brandimart as vainly sought 
him through the forest. 

Whilst Orlando is thus engaged, he sees a 
damsel issue from a wood upon a palfrey, who 
bears a book and horn. Addressing herself to 
the count, she tells him, that, if he is what his 
countenance bespeaks him, the fairest adventure 
awaits him, which ever was achieved by knight; 
and which, indeed, had hitherto foiled the 
prowess of all who had attempted it, who 
remained prisoners in the enchanted garden, 
which she invites him (if he has the courage 
sufficient for such an adventure) to attack. 
Orlando accepts the proposal with rapture ; 
the damsel presents him with the book and 
K 2 


horn; both necessary for the achievement of 
the enterprize; and, having instructed him in 
the use of them, retires to a distance. 

Orlando accordingly, having first disposed of 
the other damsel whom he carried behind him, 
sounds the bugle, and a rock opens, from which 
issue two ferocious bulls, with horns of iron, and 
strangely coloured hair turned contrary to the 
natural grain : 
And sometimes green ; now black, now white it 

Now yellow, and now red ; and ever gleamed. 

Orlando learned from the book, by whose 
rules he was to proceed, that he was to bind these 
beasts ; and this done, was to enter the opening, 
from which they sallied, and plow with them the 
space within. Such was to be his first labour. 

The bulls long maintained a severe fight with 
the champion, and often tossed, though they 
could not gore him : at length he so fatigued 
them by repeated blows from Durindana, (for 
their skin was as impenetrable as his own,) that 


he was enabled to master them, seized them by 
their horns, and bound them separately, with 
Bayardo's bridle, to an adjoining column, which 
was the monument of the king Bavardo. He 
then made a plow of Durindana, the point of 
which served as a share and the hilt as a handle, 
yoked the bulls to the instrument, and having 
torn off the limb of a tree for a whip, 
ploughed the field, as he was directed. The 
work accomplished, he loosed his beasts, who 
ran roaring through the wood, and disappeared 
behind a mountain. 

Orlando now devoutly thanks God for his 
first success, and the damsel of the book and 
horn, having dismounted from the palfrey in the 
meadow, wreaths her brows with the flowers 
which it produced. Orlando, however, does 
not allow himself a longer truce, but sounds a 
second challenge on his enchanted bugle. 

Upon the second sound, the earth trembles, 
and a neighbouring hill vomits forth flame; 
which is followed by the appearance of a fiery 
K 3 


dragon. The damsel of the golden apples is 
now about to fly ; but she of the book and horn 
bids her 

" in faith and hope, stand near, 

" For only he who proves the quest need fear." 

The damsel of the golden apples, who re- 
sented Orlando's coldness during their journey 
through the forest, observes she is glad that he 
only is in danger, and that she cannot regret 
what may happen to him ; 

" In that there lives not a more worthless wight." 
This reproach reaches Orlando's ears, as he con- 
sults his book. This guide taught him that his 
only means of safety consisted in cutting off the 
dragon's head, before he was consumed by the 
flame and venom, which issued from her mouth. 
The head cut off, he was to perform the labour 
of Jason, and sow the field in which he had 
laboured with the serpent's teeth. From these 
was to spring a crop of armed men ; and, if he 
saved himself from their swords, he might es- 
teem himself the flower of chivalry. 


He has scarce learned his lesson, when the 
serpent is upon him. Orlando protected him- 
self from her assault with his shield ; but this 
and all his armour was consumed by the flame 
which she vomited forth. He contends long 
with the monster, enveloped in fire and smoke, 
but at last separates her head at a blow. He 
immediately draws the teeth, puts them into his 
helmet, and sows them as the book had enjoined. 
The effect followed which had been foretold. 

First, feathers sprouting from the ground appear, 
By little and by little ; then a crest ; 
And next is seen the bust of cavalier, 
Furnish'dwith manly limbs, and spreading chest. 
Foot in the front, and horsemen in the rear ; 
They rise and shout, and lay the lance in rest ; 
And, drums and trumpets sounding to the charge, 
Level the spear, and lift the covering targe. 

Orlando, however, though he had neither 
lance nor shield left him, soon reaps this har- 
K 4 


vest with Durindana ; and the seed of the ser- 
pent thus springs and perishes in a day. 

The victory achieved, he blows the third 
and last blast upon his horn, which the author 
thus prefaces : 

These dragons and these gardens, made by spell, 
And dog, and book by witch or wizard writ, 
And savage hairy man, and giant fell, 
And human face, to monstrous form ill fit, 
Are food for ignorance, which you may well 
Decypher, that are blest with shrewder wit : 
Then muse upon the doctrine sage and sound, 
Which lies conceal'd beneath this rugged ground.* 

Such matter as is excellent and rare, 

And things of scent or savour, rich or fine, 
In open hand we do not loosely bear ; 
Nor cast such pearls to be defiled of swine. 
Nature, great mistress, teaches better care, 
Who loves the flower with fencing thorns to twine ; 
And covers well her fruits, and things of mark ; 
The kernel with its stone, the tree with bark ; 

* The Italian reader will here again trace some lines of Dante. 


A safe defence from bird, and beast, and storm ; 
And has conceal'd the yellow gold i' the ground, 
Jewels, and what is rare for tint or form ; 
That these may be with cost and labour found. 
And vain and witless is th' unwary swarm 
Who show their wealth, if they with wealth 

The mark, at which knave, thief, and cheater 

level ; 
And so by matchless folly tempt the devil. 

As duly would it seem to square with reason, 
That good should be with toil and trouble bought. 
And to obtain it otherwise were treason, 
Than by activity of deed and thought. 
'Tis thus we see, that art and labour season 
The victual, which without their aid is nought ; 
And simple viands, in their nature good, 
Convert to sweeter, and more savoury food. 


If Homer's Odyssey appear compounded 
Of lying legends, deem not these unfit ; 
Nor, reading of some god or goddess wounded, 
Let this aught scandalize your weaker wit : 
For who the secrets of the sage has sounded, 
Well knows, that for the sage, the poet writ ; 
And veils a different thing, from that which lies 
Open to them, who see but with their eyes. 

But stop not ye, content, at the outer rind ; 
Be not as these, but seek what is within ; 
For if no better nourishment you find, 
You will have made small progress for your sin , 
And see in these strange emblems ill-divined, 
But sick men's dreams, and fables. Then begin 
A better task, their secret meaning measure, 
And turn the stubborn soil for hidden treasure. 

Returning to the story, Orlando sounded 
his horn a third time ; and, on the echo dying 
away, was disappointed by the appearance of 
a little white bitch-hound. 

This, the damsel of the book, in hopes to 
stay the count, who was now disposed to depart, 


assured him was that which was to crown his 

She explains herself, by informing him, that 
in a neighbouring lake is an island, the resi- 
dence of the Fata, Morgana, whom God has set 
over riches ; which she 

" Distributes in the bowels of the mount, 

" Whence they are dug with long fatigue and pain ; 
" And hides them in the river and the fount, 
" In India ; where ants work the golden vein. 
" Nor let the tale seem strange, which I recount, 
" Since two fair fishes feed upon the grain. 
" Now good Morgana the bitch-hound has sent 
" To guerdon thee with treasure and content : 

" The wondrous Fay, for various riches vaunted, 
" Mistress of all that seas or earth enfold, 
" Is owner of a hind, in this enchanted ; 
" That she is white, and armed with horns of gold ; 
" And that by her no forest long is haunted, 
" Still restless and impatient of a hold. 
" Her many hunters vainly seek to catch ; 

" But you may take her with this little brach. 
* K 6 


" Who soon shall rouse her from her secret lair, 
" Yelping upon the trail with questing cry : 
" Thou shalt pursue, thro' holt or desert bare, 
" Though hound and hart more swift than arrow 


" Six days shalt thou pursue the flying pair ; 
" But on the seventh cease the chase to ply. 
" Since in a fount the milk-white hind shall soil,* 
" And thou be guerdon'd for thy tedious toil. 

" Six times a-day (such riches shalt thou measure) 
" She sheds her horns ; which yield an hundred 


" And thus shaltihou collect such mighty treasure 
" As may defy the wit of man to rate ; 
" Thrice blest, if countless wealth can purchase 

pleasure ; 

" To this perchance deserve a happier fate ; 
" And with the hind obtain what is above 
" That precious prize, the beauteous fairy's love." 

* The technical phrase for a stag taking the water : as he 
usually does when distressed. Hence our view-hollo of " Tayo ! " 
for the stag, is taken from the old French cry of" Taihors," or 
' out of the swamp !" as our " Tally lio !" for the fox, is derived 


Orlando however treats the temptation with 
contempt, and unwillingly seating the damsel of 
the golden apples behind him, casts down the 
book and horn, and departs. 

Proceeding with her, he arrives at a bridge, 
where he meets with an armed cavalier, who 
claims the damsel as his own. This turns out 
to be Ordauro, to whom Orlando resigns her 
with great satisfaction, and pursues his journey 
to Albracca. 

Here the strife was still continued between 
Rinaldo and Marphisa, united on the one 
part; and Gryphon and Aquilant, and all 
those confederated to defend Truffaldino, on 
the other. Rinaldo having in this gained some 

from " Taillis hors .'" or " out of cover !" which last etymology 
we learn from Lady Juliana Berners. All our hunting 
phraseology indeed is Norman ; even where we should be least 
inclined to trace it to such a source. Thus the cry of " Hi- 
loicks! Hiloicks !" used by us in trying a cover, we find in her 
precepts to be " Illocques, Illocques !" or " There ! There !" 
The Normans indeed formed both our hunting code and hunt- 
ing vocabulary. See many well founded allusions to this in 


advantage over his immediate opponents, Truf- 
faldino, who was present, fled into the citadel. 
This put a short stop to hostilities, and the 
combat was suspended till the ensuing day ; 
when Truffaldino was to be again produced, 
and to abide its issue. 

In this interval two important circum- 
stances occur. Astolpho (who was Agrican's 
prisoner, when those, who entered Albracca 
with Angelica, took the engagement to defend 
Truffaldino) learning from Gryphon, that Ri- 
naldo had been his antagonist, changes sides, 
and goes over to his cousin. 

To counterbalance this loss to the besieged, 
Orlando arrives in Albracca, and is received 
with open arms by Angelica. 

On the ensuing day the combat is renewed 
between the former parties with the addition 
of Astolpho on one side, and of Orlando on 
the other. In this Orlando and Rinaldo single 
each other out, and after bitter reproaches, 


Rinaldo reproving Orlando for his defence of 
a traitour, and Orlando twitting Rinaldo for 
his robberies and evil life, engage in a furious 
combat; but here Orlando is ill seconded by 
Bayardo, who will not advance against his own 

At this moment Rinaldo sees Truffaldino 
treacherously unhorse Astolpho, and pursuing 
him, (for the traitour flies upon his approach,) 
comes up with him before he is overtaken by 
his defenders, makes him prisoner, and ties him 
by the feet to Rabican's tail. With the wretch 
thus suspended, he gallops off at full speed; 
the superior swiftness of Rabican rendering all 
interference on the behalf of Truffaldino impos- 
sible ; and drags him at his horse's heels till 
he is dashed in pieces. 

Whilst he is running this cruel course, 
Rinaldo thunders out reproaches and threats 
against the abettors of the tyrant ; and Orlando, 
who had now obtained his own horse, Briglia- 


doro, through the arrival of Brandimart, who 
joins him, renews his battle with Rinaldo on 
personal grounds, the others considering them- 
selves released from the necessity of fighting 
him by the death of Truffaldino. 

Night however separates the two combatants, 
Rinaldo returning to Marphisa's camp, and 
Orlando to the citadel of Albracca. 

Here Orlando is received with all love and 
honour by Angelica ; who is, however, sighing 
in her heart for Rinaldo, and, with this view, 
declares she will attend the duel which was to 
be renewed on the morrow, and sends Sacri- 
pant, delighted with the task, to demand a safe- 
conduct for her from Marphisa. Previously 
however to Orlando's taking the field, she de- 
mands of him a boon ; swearing she will make 
him lord of her person, if he will promise to 
undertake an adventure upon her bidding; and 
avails herself of this promise, the next day, 
when the strife is at its hottest ; telling Orlando 


that enough has been done for honour, and 
entreating him now to depart upon the promised 
quest ; which was no other than the destruction 
of Falerina's garden hi the kingdom of Orgagna. 

The combatants being separated, and Orlando /] 
departed, Angelica seeks to communicate with 
Rinaldo, but in vain ; and returns disconsolate 
to Albracca, from whence she sends a damsel 
to Rinaldo with Bayardo, whom Orlando had 
dispatched to that fortress on receiving Brig- 
liadoro from Brand imart ; but Rinaldo remains 
unmoved by these various acts of kindness. 

The scene is now again changed, and Or- 
lando, whom Angelica had dispatched upon 
what she conceived a fatal enterprise, pursues 
his way towards Orgagna. 

He arrives at a bridge, on which is seen a 
cavalier, armed at all points, and mounted, as if 

for its defence. Near this was seen a beautiful 

damsel, suspended by her hair to a pine, and 

weeping bitterly. Orlando immediately moves 


to her relief; but is exhorted by the armed 
cavalier to leave her to a fate, which she had 
well deserved by her wickedness. In proof of 
which he proceeds to relate her adventures. 

" My name," pursued the knight, " is Uldano, 
and hers Origilla. We were both born in the city 
of Bactria, and I, from earliest infancy, conceived 
a passion for her, which grew with my growth, 
and derived strength even from her fickleness. 
Another youth, of the name of Lucrino, loved 
her equally with myself; and both were so well 
kept hi play by her artifices, that each believed 
himself to be favoured. 

" Being at length impatient of longer delay, 
I threw myself at her feet, and entreated her to 
take compassion on my torments. She appear- 
ed to meet my passion half-way ; but told me, 
there was but one mode in which I could gra- 
tify my desires without the sacrifice of her 
honour, and suggested the following stratagem 
as the means. 


" * You know,' said the damsel, * that my bro- 
ther, Corbirio, though scarcely arrived at man- 
hood, was slain by Oringo in combat, a man grown, 
and trained to arms. To avenge this treason, 
my father has offered a large reward to him who 
shall take the murderer, and would soon find 
one who would undertake to execute his revenge. 
You shall bear the cognizance of Oringo, shall 
suffer yourself to be taken, and thus procure 
admission into my father's house. Here you 
shall receive the reward of your constancy, and 
I will afterwards effect your deliverance.' 

" I, senseless as I was, gave into the snare, 
and had scarce departed, in order to assume the 
device and arms she suggested, when the trai- 
tress called to her my rival, Lucrino, and told 
him, that now was the time to win her by the 
death or capture of the murderer of her bro- 
ther; for she knew his motions, and where he was 
to be found, indicating to him the place whither 
she had sent me with his borrowed ensigns. 
L 2 


" To complete her purpose more effectually, 
she furnished him also with the ensigns of a 
third lover, named Ariantes, to w\iom her father 
had promised her in marriage, on condition of 
his avenging him on Oringo. 

" In the mean time, this Ariantes met and 
attacked me, taking me by my cognizance 
for Oringo, and I' yielded myself a prisoner, 
after little resistance, in the hope of the reward 
promised by Origilla. 

" Lucrino, who was, this while, dispatched 
by her in pursuit of me, fell in with the real 
Oringo, and both were desperately wounded in 
the combat which ensued. Lucrino had, how- 
ever, strength enough left to master his opposite, 
and was bringing him away prisoner, when he 
was met by the father of Origilla, who at first 
judged him to be Ariantes; but when unde- 
ceived on a nearer approach, offered him his 
daughter in marriage, whom he had pres 
viously promised to Ariantes on the same con- 

B <>OK I. 1NNAMORATO. 149 

ditions, provided he would deliver up his 

! The offer was scarcely accepted, when 
Ariantes arrived, bringing in me, disguised in 
the arms of Oringo ; and the whole stratagem 
was now apparent. 

" The clearing up this led to new contests : 
for Ariantes complained of Lucrino's having 
taken his bearings ; and Oringo thought him- 
self wronged in that his had been usurped by 

"'Now, to wear the ensigns of another is 
death by our law, unless the penalty be re- 
mitted by him who has been offended ; and the 
cause being brought before the king, we were 
all condemned ; Oringo, for having slain (as 
before told) Corbino, who was a youth scarcely 
capable of defending himself; Ariantes, for 
having bargained away the life of another; and 
Lucrino and myself, for having usurped arms 
and ensigns, which we were not entitled to wear. 
L 3 


" Origilla was condemned to a yet heavier 
punishment ; to wit, to be hanged up by the 
hair till she was dead; while we, in the ex- 
pectation of our sentence, were to assist in the 
execution of hers ; and to keep watch and ward 
over her, as she wavered in the wind. My lot 
(for we drew lots to determine the order of our 
guard) happened to be the first, and I have 
already slain seven knight 4 ?, that would have 
relieved her ; whose arms and bearings may be 
seen fastened to the tree." 

The knight had scarcely ended, when the 
wretched woman gave the lie to his assertions, 
and denounced him as having slain those he 
mentioned by treachery, hoping by the show of 
these trophies to terrify others from attempting 
to defend her. 

Orlando believes the lady, and defies and 
unhorses Uldano. He is no sooner conquered, 
than a horn sounds, whicli a dwarf winds from- 
a tower's top; when another knight takes up 


the conqueror; and the four concerned are 
all successively encountered, and dismounted, 
by Orlando, who now cuts down the damsel, 
and departs with her seated on his horse's croup. 

Thus riding together, and beguiling the 
way with talk, they descried, in the middle 
of a meadow, a huge rock of marble cut into 
steps, and bearing an inscription in letters of 
gold ; when the damsel informs him they are 
near a notable wonder, which well deserves his 
examination ; since, if he will take the pains of 
climbing this pile, which is hollow within, he 
may from the top descry Hell and Paradise, 
opened to the sight below. Orlando believes 
the tale, and ascends the steps, when Origilla 
having possessed herself of Brigliadoro, laughs 
at him for his folly and departs. 

Orlando, now examining the inscription, 

finds it imports nothing more than that this 

was the tomb of Ninus, the founder of Nineveh. 

Little satisfied with the discovery, and cursing 

L * 


the damsel from the bottom of his soul, he 
departs on foot, in order to prosecute his 

But here the author closes his first book, 

with the promise of treating of higher and 
worthier matters in his second. 





Agramant, king of Africa, assembles his council for advice 
respecting an intended invasion of France, and is exhorted to 
seek out Rogero, as necessary to the success of his enterprise. 
Rinaido, with Astolpho, Iroldo and Prasildo, leaves the camp 
before Albracca, in search of Orlando, with whom he is im- 
patient to terminate his quarrel. On his way, he falls in with 
a damsel, in whose behalf he combats with an enchanted man, 
who plunges with him into a lake, in which they both disap- 
pear. Agramant, in the meantime, is unable to find Rogero, 
and Rodomont of Sarza, one of his vassal kings, determines 
to undertake the expedition alone. Orlando, who had been 
dispatched by Angelica on a perilous quest, achieves this and 
other adventures. She is in the meantime robbed of her magic 
ring by Brunello, who steals his horse from Sacripant, and 
her sword from Marphisa. Rodomont, who threatened to 
invade France alone, embarks for that country in a storm, 
and makes good his descent. Orlando now falls in with the 
enchanted man, who had regained the shore after leaving 
Rinaido below the waves, and a long combat ensues between 
them on land and under water. Orlando at length vanquishes 
him, and makes the conquest of Morgana's garden, of which 
he was the champion. From this Orlando delivers all her pri- 


soners, except Ziliantes, son of Monodontes, her minion ; and 
more especially Rinaldo, to whom he is reconciled. The Christian 
knights delivered, excepting Orlando, depart to the succour of 
Charlemagne ; but Rinaldo, with his friends, soon falls into a new 
snare. Orlando, accompanied by Brandimart, returns towards 
Angelica, in Albracca; but, by the way, encounters Bru- 
nello, pursued by Marphisa, and is himself plundered by the 
fugitive of his sabre and his horn. He is afterwards entrapped 
by the same spell as the others, and carried prisoner to Damogir, 
in the empire of Monodontes. This adventure leads to the 
discovery, that Brandimart is the eldest son of Monodontes; for 
whom his younger son, Ziliantes, is also recovered by Orlando, 
who a second time makes himself master of Morgana. Ri- 
naldo, Astolpho, and the rest, again delivered from prison 
by him, pursue their way to France ; but Astolpho is seduced 
from his companions by the devices of Alcina. Rinaldo 
and Rodomont meet in battle in France ; but are sepa- 
rated. The invasion of this country is to be attempted 
by a yet more formidable force than that of Rodomont; 
for Agramant, having received from Brunello the booty he 
had made, discovers, by help of the magic ring, the abode 
of Rogero, and allures him into his service. Orlando, with 
Angelica, whose covert object is the pursuit of Rinaldo, 
takes his way to France: she, drinking, however, of the foun- 
tain of Disdain, while Rinaldo now drinks of the fountain of 
Love in the forest of Arden, the two exchange passions ; he 
becomes her lover, and she now mortally detests him, who 
is involved by his present pursuit of her in a desperate duel 
with Orlando. Charlemagne, to end the strife, gives An- 
gelica in charge to Namus, duke of Bavaria. Agramant hav- 
ing this while landed in France, pursues the war with various 
success. The main actions are, as in the first book, diversified 
with a great variety of episodes. 


THE theme, announced as I before stated, begins 
with the threatened invasion of France ; to con- 
sult on which, Agramant calls a council of his 
tributary kings. Here Sobrino strongly opposes 
the measure ; but finding his opposition useless, 
observes that the only thing which can render 
it effectual, will be to get possession of Rogero, 
a youth who is the cousin of Agramant by the 
mother's side, and now detained a prisoner by 
the African, Atlantes, on the mountain of Ca- 
rena. This advice is better listened to than the 
former, and the council breaks up after it has 
been adopted, and the king has commanded a 
search to be prosecuted for him, on whose 
presence so much appears to depend. 

The scene now again shifts to Albracca, 
from before the walls of which, still besieged by 


Marphisa, Rinaldo departs in pursuit of his 
new enemy, Orlando, accompanied by Astolpho, 
Iroldo, and Prasildo. 

Astolpho was at the head of this party when 
they fell in with a weeping damsel, who, being 
questioned as to her cause of sorrow, related 
that, on lately crossing a neighbouring bridge, 
a wretch had issued from a tower which com- 
manded it, and seized upon her sister that ac- 
companied her, whom he made prisoner, and 
whipt bitterly ; having first stript her, and tied 
her naked to a cypress. Astolpho immediately 
places the weeping sister behind him on his 
horse, and all proceed together to effect the 
deliverance of the damsel. 

The damsel, bridge, tower, and scourging 
warder are soon descried. Iroldo and Prasildo 
first encounter the oppressor, but are succes- 
sively defeated ; and the ruffian casts their 
bodies into a lake, into which the river, bestrid 
by the bridge, disembogues itself Rinaldo 


now attacks him with as little success, and is 
beat down with an iron mace ; but when the 
conqueror attempts to dispose of him like the 
others, he makes such violent efforts to free 
himself, that the savage, being unable to throw 
him, springs with him into the lake ; where they 
both disappear. 

Astolpho remains a long time in affliction 
upon the banks, but is at last persuaded by the 
two damsels (for one sister had in the meantime 
freed the other) to depart. 

He accordingly mounts Bayardo, gives Rabi- 
can to one of the damsels, and one of the Baby- 
lonian knights' horses to the other; and they 
both, thus mounted, go forth under his guidance. 

At this tune, Brandimart (who, it may be 
remembered, was in Albracca) hearing of 
Orlando's departure, determines to pursue him. 

The same resolution is taken by Gryphon 
and Aquilant; and these, arriving at the shore, 
find a castle situated upon the beach, with an. 


open gallery towards the sea. In this, damsels 
are dancing ; and the brothers are informed bv 


two maids, who are passing with hawks upon 
their fists, that it is their usage to detain even- 
passenger ; who is obliged to join in then- dance, 
and to pass a night under their roof. 

The brothers consent to submit to this joyous 
usage, but have soon reason to repent their 
complaisance. They soon see a damsel ap- 
proaching upon Brigliadoro, which she had 
stolen from Orlando, as was told in the former 
book, and who, being interrogated as to the 
manner hi which she had become mistress of 
him, said that he was the horse of a knight 
(describing his ensigns as those of Orlando) 
whom she had found dead upon a plain, with 
the body of a giant by his side. 

The two brothers are much distressed by this 
falsehood, which leaves them little inclination to 
enjoy the festivities of the castle, in which they 
had been compelled to join. 


To add to their misfortune, they are surprised 
the ensuing night in their beds; and, having 
been detained for some days in chains, are, 
together with the damsel, who had also arrived 
mounted on Brigliadoro, led forth for execution. 
As they are however conducting to the place of 
punishment, a stranger knight is seen approach- 
ing ; but here the author breaks off, and carries 
his readers back to the war before Albracca. 

Marphisa had now encountered and worsted 
every one of the defenders of Angelica, in an 
attack which they made upon her camp, when 
she was assailed by Sacripant, who had hitherto 
been confined to the fortress from the effects of 

a former wound. 

A desperate combat ensues, in which the 

Circassian is much assisted by the speed and 
docility of his horse Frontilatte. In the heat 
of this a courier brings him news of the in- 
vasion of his kingdom by Mandricardo, the. 
son of Agricaiu As he and Marphisa, however, 


cannot agree upon the conditions of a truce, 
this occasions but a short interruption of the 
duel ; which is at last only broken off by the 
author, that he may give some account of the 
search made for Rogero, in consequence of 
what was determined at the council of Agra- 

The emissary of the king returns, reporting 
the inutility of his journey, made through the 
mountain of Carena, and Rodomont, enraged 
at the delay, sets out with his own forces for 
the invasion of France. In the mean time 
Agramant is assured that Rogero is upon 
Mount Carena ; though the garden, where he 
is confined, is invisible ; and that the possession 
of Angelica's ring would enable him to succeed 
in his enterprise. 

Agramant now promises a kingdom to who- 
ever shall obtain for him this prize, and the 
theft is confidently promised by a dwarf, who is 
entitled Brunello. 


This while, Orlando, robbed by the damsel 
of Brigliadoro, was plodding upon his way 
a-foot : when he one day fell in with an escort 
of armed men, leading two knights as prisoners, 
whom he immediately recognized for Gryphon 
and Aquilant, and the damsel who had carried 
off his courser. 

The escort was, it seems, carrying off these 
to be devoured by the serpent of the garden 
of Orgagna; but Orlando immediately routs 
the guard, and sets the prisoners at liberty. 

He has scarcely looked the damsel in the 
face, when he forgets the wrongs he has re- 
ceived; and Gryphon, who had exchanged 
hearts with her, almost at sight, is yet more fas- 
cinated by her graces. Orlando observing this, 
under some pretence sends the two brothers 
away, that he may keep her to himself; and 
sitting down by her on the grass, begins to 
woo her with such courtesy as he can. :. 



While he is thus engaged, another damsel 
approaches on a white palfrey, who warns 
Orlando of impending danger, and informs 
him he is close to the garden of Orgagna. 
Orlando is delighted at the intelligence, and 
entreats her to inform him how he is to procure 

She promises him full instructions ; and, as 
the first of these, tells him he must keep himself 
chaste for three days, previous to attempting the 
adventure, if he would preserve himself from 
being devoured by the dragon, who guards the 
gate. She then says she will give him a book, 
in which he will find painted the garden and 
all it contains, together with the palace of the 
false enchantress, which she had only entered 
the day before, for the purpose of executing a 
magic work in which she was engaged. 

This, which was the manufacture of a sword, 
capable of cutting through even enchanted 
substances, she only pursued on moonless nights. 


The object of this labour was the destruction of 
a knight of the west, hight Orlando ; who, she 
had read in the book of Fate, was destined to 
demolish her garden. To this, the damsel 
adds, that the garden can only be entered at 
sunrise ; and, having presented him with a book 
of instructions, departs. 

Orlando, who finds he must delay his enter- 
prize till the next morning, now lies down, and 
is soon asleep. In the mean time, Origilla, 
who was still with him, meditated her escape, 
in order to rejoin Gryphon; and yielding to 
the impulse of her evil nature, was about to 
slay Orlando with his own sword, which she 
had drawn for the purpose. Afraid, however, 
to execute her design, she mounts Brigliadoro, 
and gallops off, carrying away Durindana. 

Orlando wakes, in such indignation as may 
be supposed, on the discovery of the theft ; but, 
like a good knight and true, is not to be di- 
M 2 


verted from his enterprise. He tears off a huge 
branch of elm to supply the place of his sword, 
and, the sun rising, takes his way towards the 
eastern gate, where the dragon was on his 

This he slays by repeated blows upon the 
spine ; but finds that the wall of the enchanted 
garden, which he had entered, was closed upon 
him. Looking round him, he saw a fair foun- 
tain of water, which overflowed into a river, 
and in the centre of the fountain was a figure, 
on whose forehead was written, 

" The stream which waters violet and rose, 
" From hence to the enchanted palace flows." 

Following the banks of this flowery stream, 
and rapt in the delights of the delicious garden, 
Orlando arrives at the palace, and entering it, 
finds the mistress, clad in white, and with a 
crown of gold upon her head, in the act of 
viewing herself in the surface of the fatal sword. 


He surprises her before she can escape, deprives 
her of the weapon, and holding her fast by her 
long hair, which floated behind, threatens her 
with immediate death if she does not instruct 
him in the means of retreat. 

Falerina, however, was firm of purpose, and 
refused. Hence Orlando, being unable to move 
her either by threats or kindness, was under the 
necessity of binding her to a beech. Having 
thus secured his prisoner, he renewed his 
questions, but she still refused to point out the 
gate of the garden. 

He now bethinks him of his book, and con- 
sulting it, finds there is an entrance to the south 
but that it is watched by a bull, with one horn 
of iron, and another of flame. 

Moreover, before arriving at this, there is 
another impediment: a lake is to be passed, 
pregnant with new danger; but to provide 
against this, he is instructed by his book. 
According to its directions, 
M 3 


He, still his path pursuing, gathers posies 
Of flowers, which every where about him spring, 
And filling well his casque and ears with roses, 
Lists if he hears the birds in green-wood sing : 
He sees the gaping beak, the swelling throat, 
And ruffled plumes, but cannot catch a note. 

Having thus proved the force of his defence, 
he proceeds towards the lake, which was small 
but deep; and so clear and tranquil, that the 
eye could penetrate to the bottom. 

He is no sooner arrived upon the banks, 
than the waters are seen to gurgle ; and a syren, 
rising midway out of the pool, sings so sweetly, 
that birds and beasts troop to the water-side, 
attracted by her song. Of this the count 
hears nothing; but feigning to yield to the 
charm, sinks down beside the water ; from 
which the syren issues with the intent to accom- 
plish his destruction. Orlando, however, seizes 


her by the hair, and, while singing yet louder 
(song being her only defence), cuts off her head, 
and (so instructed by the book) stains himself 
all over with her blood. 

Having done this as a protection against 
the horns of the bull, and taken the roses from 
his helmet and ears, he proceeds towards the 
southern gate. 

Here he is encountered by the bull, whose 
horn of iron he severs at a stroke. His horn 
of flame was however yet left, and by this Or- 
lando, but for the virtue of the syren's blood, 
would have been consumed. Guarded by this, 
he pursues his advantage, and at last slaughters 
his enemy. The bull is, however, no sooner slain, 
than the gate, of which he is the guardian, dis- 
appears, the wall closes, and Orlando again finds 
himself a prisoner, without the means of escape. 

Again resorting to his book, he finds that another 
river, running westward, leads to a gate formed 
of jewels, which is kept by an enchanted ass. 
M 4- 


Taking his course towards this, he arrives at 
a tree of surprising height, and again consulting 
his book, razes off his crest, and makes a pent- 
house of his shield for the protection of his sight. 
Covering himself with it, he advances with his 
eyes fixed upon the ground, towards the mira- 
culous tree. 

On approaching it, a harpy with a beautiful 
female head, and crowned with strangely co- 
loured plumes, flutters out from the branches, 
and hovering above the count, squirts her ordure 
at his head. This is fortunately protected by 
his shield, on which it hisses like boiling oil. 
Orlando, distracted by the yells of the harpy, 
is often tempted to raise his eyes : he how- 
ever perseveres in keeping them fixed to the 
ground till he is near the tree, when he falls, 
as if blinded by the burning liquor. The bird 
now swoops to the ground, and having darted 
her talons into his breast-plate, attempts to 
drag him towards the trunk. The count sees 


his time is come, and dispatches her with a 
back-handed stroke of his sword. 

The harpy demolished, he re-adjusted his 
crest, the gift of Angelica, braced his shield 
anew, and took his way towards the western 
gate. Nothing was ever seen more beautiful 
than this, with respect to the materials, or the 
workmanship. Nor was the animal who kept 
it less extraordinary ; being an ass, armed with 
scales of gold, and ears of such length and 
strength, as to be able to seize, and drag to 
himself by the aid of them, whatever was within 
his reach ; his tail cut like a trenchant sword, 
and his bray made the forest tremble. 

Though his golden scales had resisted all 
other weapons, they were not impenetrable by 
Orlando's steel, and he smote off his head at a 

A strange wonder followed ; the earth swal- 
lowed the carcase of the ass, this gate too disap- 
peared, and the walls again closed upon Orlando. 


He is now directed by his instructions to a 
a northern entrance, and, strong in patience, 
proceeds in this direction. On his way thither 
he sees a table spread in the wilderness. He 
is tempted by the viands ; but recurring to the 
book, is informed of his danger, and refrains. 

From this he learns that a faun lay conceale 
amongst the neighbouring thorns and roses, 
provided with a chain, with which she snared 
whoever tasted of the banquet. She fled 
from Orlando on his approaching her haunt, 
dragging after her a serpent's tail, till then con- 
cealed, which was as loathsome as her face was 
lovely. Being overtaken, she made no defence 
and was slaughtered at a blow. 

The count now arrives at the northern gate, 
which he finds guarded by a giant. Orlando 
had so often been engaged with enemies of this 
description, that he thought little of the combat 
in which he was going to engage. In effect, 
his expectations were in part justified, as he 


slew liis adversary. This was, however, but the 
beginning of his labour; for, from the blood of 
the slaughtered enemy sprang a fire, and from 
this issued two other giants yet fiercer than the 
first. Orlando sees that to spill the blood of 
these, would be but to multiply his foes, and 
accordingly, changing his mode of proceeding, 
grapples with one of the two in the hopes of 
squeezing him to death. He is, however, still 
interrupted by the other, before he can accom- 
plish his purpose ; and at last sees the necessity 
of separating them . 

To effect this, he feigns to fly, but the giants, 
instead of pursuing, return to keep guard over 
the enchanted gate. If, however, Orlando was 
disappointed in his hope of dividing them, his 
stratagem was productive of another advantage. 
He saw the chain lying on the ground, which was 
spread for his destruction by the faun. Return- 
ing with this, he nooses the giants and then again 
recurs to the book for his future proceedings. 


This informs him, that the total destruction 
of the garden (the task imposed by Angelica) 
can only be accomplished by tearing off a cer- 
tain branch of a lofty tree, in which was in- 
volved the destiny of this fairy creation. 

According to the rules which he received, he 
returned through a spacious valley towards the 
palace, passing Falerina, whom he had left 
fastened to the beech. He soon descries the 
fatal tree, which is of an immeasurable height : 
while the stem, even at the bottom, is no more 
than a palm in girt. 

No thicker ; but from this close branch and spray 
Bristled, whence foliage green and narrow grew. 
The leaves which died and sprouted every day, 
Conceal'd within sharp pointed thorns from view: 
Apples of gold the loaded twigs display ; 
Apples in form, but burnish'd gold in hue, 
Suspended from small stalks, so slight in show, 
The man had periled life who walked below. 


To obviate this danger (and we are after- 
wards told that the fruit was as large as the 
human head), Orlando forms a sort of grating 
of boughs of trees, and, under cover of this, 
proceeds towards the tree, amidst a shower of 
the golden apples, which fall, loosened by the 
vibration of the soil beneath his feet. Having 
reached it, he severs the trunk close to the 
root, and every thing is instantly involved in 

The cloud at length clears away, and the 
sun shines forth upon a wild landscape ; where 
no vestige is to be seen of the garden, or 
trace of the adventure, except in the appear- 
ance of the fairy Falerina, who remains in 
the middle of the wilderness, fastened to the 

Her tone is now changed, and she entreats 
Orlando's mercy, assuring him that many lives 
depend upon the preservation of hers. She 
explains herself by saying, that she had con- 


structed the garden and a neighbouring snare 
in a bridge over a torrent, in order to be re- 
venged on a knight called Ariantes, and an 
infamous woman of the name of Origilla, who, 
though many had fallen into her toils, had both 
hitherto escaped. 

" Many," pursues the fairy, " were entrap- 
ped in my garden, and yet more at the bridge ; 
and here it was that I took a certain enchan- 
tress, daughter of king Galaphron, who by some 
secret means escaped, and effected the deliver- 
ance of her fellow prisoners. Many more, 
however, have been taken since, and all these 
will perish, if you are resolved on my destruc- 
tion." Orlando immediately promised her life, 
upon her pledging herself for the deliverance of 
the captives. 

With this view they proceed together, towards 
the bridge ; but the author snaps this thread, 
to take up that of the story of Albracca. 

Here Sacripant and Marphisa were left en- 


gaged in a single combat, which was still con- 
tinued with mutual animosity; while Angelica, 
surrounded by a group of warriors, sate con- 
templating the fight from the ramparts of the 
citadel. While the attention of all was thus 
engaged, Brunello, who (it will be remembered) 
had undertaken to steal Angelica's ring, arrived 
beneath the walls of Albracca, scaled the rock 
and walls of the fortress, while the crowd 
was watching the duel, and disputing on its 
probable result, approached the princess unob- 
served, and, slipping the ring from her finger, 
escaped amid the confusion which followed. 

Having descended safely to the ground, and 
swam a water by which the citadel was sur- 
rounded, the dwarf perceived that the two 
combatants had separated for an interval of 
repose, and immediately meditated a new ex- 
ercise of his art. With this view, he approached 
Sacripant, who, absorbed in an amorous reverie, 
sate apart, upon his courser, and having 


first loosened the girths, and supported the 
saddle by a piece .of wood, withdrew the horse 
from under him. * 

Marphisa, who was at a little distance, wit- 
nessed this with wonder, and, before she re- 
covered from her astonishment, was herself 
plundered of her sword. Marphisa is no 
sooner aware of the theft, than she pursues 
the robber; but he, mounted upon Fronti- 
latte, his new acquisition, soon distances the 

While Angelica, who felt her misfortune yet 
more than the others, is in despair at the loss 
of her treasure, an alarm is given by the warder, 
who reports the arrival of a new army before 
Albracca. This was a Turkish force, led by 
Caramano, brother of Torindo, one of the 
princes who had been seized and imprisoned by 

* The reader will recollect the imitation of this absurd 
incident in " Don Quixote," whoso squire's ass, Dapple, is 
stolen in a similar manner. 


Truffaldino, and who, having refused to enter 
into the engagement to which the others agreed, 
on his delivering them from durance, now 
brought this brother against Albracca. 

Angelica's last hopes of deliverance rest 
upon Gradasso; who, it seems, was her re- 
lation, and who was meditating anew the inva- 
sion of France. Hence Sacripant undertakes 
a secret embassy to this prince, with the view of 
soliciting his succour. 

Rodomont, this while, who was too impa- 
tient to wait for Agramanfs attack upon Charle- 
magne, had already sailed for France. A tre- 
mendous storm wrecked his fleet upon the coast 
of that kingdom ; but he, landing with such 
force as the tempest had left him, made good his 
footing, and routed the Christians in more 
engagements than one: though the balance at 
last turned in their favour. 

Previous, however, to this, Gano, or Ganelon, 
(as he is sometimes called) enters into a traitor- 



ous correspondence with Marsilius, whom he 
invites into France. 

While great events are preparing in this 
quarter, the author resumes the story of 
Orlando, who was journeying with Falerina 
towards the bridge, where so many prisoners 
were entrapped. On their way thither, however, 
they arrived at a yet more perilous pass : this 
was the bridge, and lake into which the felon 
warrior leaped with Rinaldo in his arms. Fa- 
lerina, enchantress as she was, turned pale at 
the sight of this place, and cursed the hour in 
which they had taken the road which conducted 
them thither ; informing Orlando that they were 
approaching a snare, laid by Morgana; who 
plotted revenge against a knight who had de- 
stroyed many of her spells, and set at nought 
her riches and her power. 

For this purpose she had formed the lake; 
and selected, as a defender of the pass, a man 
named Arridano, a churl of the most ferocious 


and pitiless character she could find. Him she 
had clothed in invulnerable arms, and charmed 
in such a manner, that his strength always in- 
creased in a six-fold proportion to that of the 
adversary with whom he was matched. Hence, 
no one had hitherto escaped from the contest ; 
since, such was his strength and power of en- 
durance, that he could breathe freely under 
water. Hence, having grappled with a knight, 
and sunk with him to the bottom of the lake, he 
returned, bearing his arms in triumph to the 

While Falerina is explaining the danger of 
the enterprise, Orlando sees Rinaldo's arms, 
erected in form of a trophy, amongst other 
spoils made by the villain ; and forgetting their 
late quarrel, determines upon revenging his 
friend. A desperate contest ensues between the 
churl and the knight, during which Falerina 
flies. The combatants (as in the case of Rinaldo) 
N 2 


both grapple, and sink together in the water. 
Arrived at the bottom, Orlando finds himself 
in another world, upon a dry meadow, with the 
lake overhead, through which shone the beams 
of our sun; the meadow being on all sides 
surrounded by a crystal wall. Here the battle 
was renewed, and in this Orlando had an ad- 
vantage, which none had hitherto possessed. 
Besides that lie was himself invulnerable, he 
was now in possession of the sword, tempered 
by Falerina, against which no spells could 
avail. Thus armed, and countervailing the 
strength of his adversary by his superior skill 
and activity, he had the good fortune to lay 
him dead upon the field. 

Orlando having slain his foe, discovers a gate 
in the crystal wall ; and having passed through 
a dark labyrinth, comes at last where it is lighted 
by a carbuncle, whose lustre was equal to that 
of day. This discovered to his view a river 
little less than twenty-yards over, and beyond 


this was seen a field as thickly covered with 
precious stones as the sky is full of stars. 

Over this was thrown a bridge, only half a 
palm wide, and at each end was stationed an 
iron figure with a mace. Orlando no sooner 
attempted to pass this, than the figures smote 
upon it, and it was instantly engulphed in the 
stream. Orlando however, being resolved to 
accomplish the adventure or perish in the at- 
tempt, leapt the river and arrived in the field, 
which contained the treasures of the fairy. 

When he had arrived at the other extremity 
of this, he entered a building, where he beheld 
the likeness of a king, surrounded by his peers, 
and encompassed by all the pomp and magni- 
ficence of royalty. The monarch appeared to 
be seated at a banquet, with a naked sword 
suspended over his head, and on the table before 
him was a live coal, supported on a golden lily, 

which gave light to the apartment. On his left 
N 3 


stood a figure with a bended bow in guise of one 
who waits the crossing of the stag ; and on the 
right, the form of one, who, from his likeness 
to the king, appeared to be his brother, and 
who bore in one hand a writing illustrative of 
the vanity of his worldly pursuits. 

The troubled countenance of the king seemed 
to bear witness to the truth of the inscription ; 
and Orlando, having satisfied his curiosity, de- 
parted through the door opposite to that by 
which he had entered. He was however no 
sooner out of the apartment, than all was 

After wandering for some time at random, 
he bethought himself of the coal, which was 
burning before the king, and returned in or- 
der to take it. He had however no sooner 
laid his hand upon this, than the archer let fly 
his arrow, which extinguished it, and night 
followed. This was rendered terrible by an 


earthquake, which shook the world to its centre. 
The earthquake at last ceased, the light re- 
kindled of itself, and all was as before. Again 
Orlando issued through the dark passage, again 
was compelled to return in search of the coal, 
and again witnessed the same effect. 

A third attempt was more successful : he 
intercepted the arrow with his shield, and car- 
ried off the light in safety. Using this as a 
lamp, Orlando arrived where the way divided ; 
and turning to the left, instead of the right 
(which would have conducted him out of the 
building) took the road which led to the dun- 
geons of Morgana. Here were imprisoned Ri- 
naldo, Dudon, Brandimart, and others who had 
fallen into the power of Morgana; but the 
count did not immediately arrive at their place 
of confinement. Still guiding himself by his 
light, he came to a cleft in the rock, through 
which he passed into a flowery meadow, planted 
N 4 


with trees covered with fruit and flowers, and 
full of all imaginable delights. 

In the middle of this was a fountain, and fast 
by it lay Morgana asleep ; a lady of a lovely 
aspect, dressed in white and vermilion gar- 
ments ; her forehead well furnished with hair, 
but with scarcely any behind. 

While Orlando stood in silence, contem- 
plating her beauty, he heai'd a voice exclaim, 
" Seize the fairy by the forelock if thou hopest 
fair success ;" Orlando turning, and advancing 
in the direction from which the voice came, 
discovered a prison of crystal in which he 
beheld the captives of Morgana. 

At the sight of these, he raised his sabre to 
smite the wall ; but was advertised by a female 
prisoner that all attempts to release them would 
only be productive of new misery to those he 
sought to benefit, unless he could take Mor- 
gana herself, and force from her the keys of 
their prison-house. 


Thus admonished, he returned towards the 
fountain. But the fairy, who was awake and 
risen, was now dancing round its border with 
the lightness of a leaf, and timing her steps to 
the following song : 

" Who in this world would wealth and treasure 


" Honour, delight, and state, and what is best, 
" Quick let him catch me by the lock of hair 
" Which flutters from my forehead, and be blest; 
" But let him 'not the proffered good forbear, >- 
" Nor, till he seize the fleeting blessing, rest. , 
" For present loss is sought in vain to-morrow, 
" And the deluded wretch is left in sorrow." 

The fairy, however, no sooner set eyes on the 
count, than she bounded off, and fled from the 
flowery meadow over a high and inhospitable 
mountain. ^. Orlando pursued her through 
thorns and rocks, though the sky, on her gain- 


ing this dreary scene, became overcast, and he 
was assailed by tempest, lightning and hail. 

While Orlando thus pursues, enveloped in 
storm, a pale and meagre woman issues from 
a cave, armed with a whip, and treading close 
upon the pursuer, scourges him, till his skin is 
raised in furrows. She infbrms him, while she 
inflicts this discipline, that she is Penitence, and 
sent to punish him for having neglected to seize 
Morgana, when he found her sleeping by the 
fountain. Orlando, determined to resist this 
chastisement, turns upon his tormentor; but 
might as well seek to wound the wind. 
Convinced at last of the shadowy nature 
of his persecutor, and observing that Mor- 
gana gained upon him, while he was thus 
hopelessly engaged, he determines to pursue 
the fairy without being diverted by the molest- 
ation of Penitence. 

Chasing Morgana, then, over rock and hill, 
he mode sundry snatches at her white and 


vermilion garments, which still eluded his grasp. 
On the fairy, however, turning her. head for an 
instant, he profited by the chance, and seized 
her by the forelock. In an instant the tem- 
pest ceased, the sky became serene, and Peni- 
tence retreated into her cave. 

Orlando now demanded of Morgana the keys 
of her dungeon ; and the fairy, feigning a com- 
placent aspect, told him that these were at his 
disposal; entreating him, though he should 
free all her other prisoners, to leave her a 
youthful son of Monodontes, who was her darl- 
ing. Orlando consented to this, and the fairy 
delivered up a key of silver, bidding him be 
cautious in the use of it; since, to break the 
lock, would be to involve himself and all, in 
inevitable destruction; a caution which gave 
the count room for long meditation, and led 
him to consider 

How few amid the suitors, who importune 
The dame, know how to guide the keys of Fortune. 


Keeping the fairy still fast by the forelock, 
Orlando proceeded towards the prison, turned 
the key without occasioning the mischief ap- 
prehended, and delivered the prisoners. 

Amongst these were Brandimart, Rinaldo, 
and all the knights, baptized or infidel, who 
had been taken at the bridge. The only 
unhappy person amid this joyous band was 
Ziliantes, the minion of Morgana. This youth 
remained behind weeping ; and time will come, 
says the author, when Orlando will repent of 
having yielded to the entreaties of the fairy. 

The others, now delivered from their cap- 
tivity, together with Orlando, ascending a lofty 
stair" issued into the field of treasure, where 
was to be seen the king and his court, all com- 
posed of the richest materials in the world. 
Rinaldo, on finding himself amid this mass of 
wealth, could not resist the temptation of seizing 
a gold seat that stood in his way, which, he 


observed, would feed his hungry garrison of 
Mont Albano. This he was bearing off, notwith- 
standing the remonstrances of Orlando, when 
a violent wind blew him back as often as he 
approached the gate, by which they were re- 
tiring. Rinaldo at length yielded to necessity^ 
rather than to the entreaties of his comrades, 
and cast away his prize. All now climbing 
another immeasurable stair, ascended into the 
upper world, and found themselves in the field 
decorated with their arms. 

Here each knight resumed his own ; and all 
except the paladins and their friends, separated, 
as their inclinations or duty prompted. It 
was now that Dudon informed the cousins 
that he had been made prisoner by Morgana, 
when in the discharge of an- embassy to them 
from Charlemagne, who called . upon them to 
return to the defence of Christendom. Orlando 
is too much fascinated by Angelica, to obey tin's 
summons ; and, followed by the faithful Bran-. 


dimart, returns towards Albracca. Rinaldo, 
accompanied by Dudon, Iroldo and Prasildo, 
takes his way towards the west. 

These, though unprovided with horses, (for 
their coursers were lost at the bridge,) went 
laughing and talking on their way. Their 
journey was without adventures till the sixth 
day, when they heard a horn sound from a 
neighbouring castle. From this they were 
divided by a river, and near the opposite bank 
was a small bark, with a damsel in the stern, 
who proflercd them a passage. 

Arrived on the other shore, she tells them 
they must account for this with the warder, 
who was then approaching. This was an old 
man mounted on a heavy steed, and surrounded 
by a numerous escort. He informs the knights, 
that they are upon the territory of the king 
Monodontes, from which they will not be suf- 
fered to depart, before they have rendered him 
a day's service. This was to avenge him 


of a certain enemy named Balisardo, at once 
a giant and enchanter, who kept a bridge, 
flanked with towers, near the mouth of the 
river which they had crossed, and who had 
put many scorns upon that monarch and those 
who travelled to his realm. 

Nothing more agreeable could have been 
proposed to the warriors, and they reimbark in 
the damsel's skiff for the purpose of seeking 
the necromancer. 

The event of the combat was, however, very 
different from what they had anticipated. 
Encountering the giant singly, they all became 
the victims of his enchantments, and were cast 
into his dungeons, already peopled with illus- 
trious knights, amongst whom' was Astolpho 
of England. 

This prince, in company with the two damsels 
before mentioned, had gone about the world, 
with Bayardo and Rabican, weeping the loss of 
Rinaldo, whom he saw go to the bottom of the 


enchanted lake with Arridano. Wandering 
thence, he had arrived on the same spot where 
Rinaldo and his comrades afterwards found 
themselves ; like them he had ferried the river 
in die damsel's boat, like them, had been dis- 
patched against Balisardo ; and, like them, had 
been made prisoner by the wizard, who en- 
snared him, under" the form of a damsel. 

In the mean time, Orlando, who had parted 
company with Rinaldo, and the rest, was re- . 
turning, with Brandimart, towards Albracca 
On his way thither he, to his surprise, saw 
Marphisa in chase of Brunello, and contemp- , 
lating the two, was himself robbed of his horn, 
and Baiisarda. 

As both he and Brandimart were on foot, to 
chase the robber was useless; leaving, therefore, 
Marphisa still in pursuit, the two warriors pro- 
ceeded on their way. Pursuing this, they too 
arrived at die same ferry as Rinaldo had, and 
there found two damsels assailing each other 


with reproaches, the one in a boat, and the 
other on horseback. Orlando immediately 
recognized the latter for Origilla, who had 
stolen Brigliadoro and Durindana, previous to 
his entering the garden of Orgagna. His re- 
sentment, however, was forgotten on seeing her ; 
and he received her again into his company, 
embarking, as the others had done, for the 
adventure of Balisardo. 

In this his usual fortune deserted him, and 
having been vanquished by the enchantments of 
the giant, he was cast on board a miserable 
prison-ship, in order to be transported to some 
distant dungeons. 

From this he is, however, delivered by the 
valour of Brandimart*, who slays the giant, 

* The reader will have remarked that a vein of allegory, 
more or less apparent, runs through the whole of the romance. 
This observation will, perhaps, serve to explain the defeat of 
Orlando, and the subsequent triumph of Brandimart. O r - 
lando, by his love of vice, as figured in Origilla, has derogated 


and rescues Orlando from captivity. The two 
champions now interrogate the master of the pri- 
son-ship; who tells them that the wizard-giant was 
the instrument of a certain king, called Mono- 
dontes, who dwelt in Damogir, an island situ- 
ated in the ocean; where he had amassed 
riches, which surpassed the imagination to 
conceive. As, something is always wanting to 
the completion of human happiness, this prince 
was miserable in the loss of his two only sons, 
the first of whom was carried off, in his child- 
hood, by a slave of the name of Bardino, and 
the second taken and imprisoned by a fairy 
named Morgana, who was said to be ena- 
moured of the youth. 

The ship-master, pursuing his story, stated 
that the fairy had offered to surrender the 

from his natural self, and forfeited the protection of Pro- 
vidence, while Brandimart t the model of purity and constancy, 
is proof against all the powers of hell. 


stripling to his father, upon his putting her 
in possession of a certain knight, entitled Or- 
lando, with whom she was at enmity, on ac- 
count of his having destroyed her enchant- 
ments. This the necromancer, overcome by 
Brandimart, had offered to effect for Mono- 
dontes, but had never succeeded, though he had 
crowded his dungeons with champions ; amongst 
whom were Rinaldo, Astolpho, Dudon, Gryphon 
and Aquilant, and others, too many to mention. 

Orlando listened to the narration in silence : 
then, after some secret conference with the 
ship-master, bade him make sail for Damogir, 
as he and Brandimart were now masters of the 
vessel, for he was minded to put this Orlando 
into the hands of Monodontes. He obeys his 
command, and the ship, after traversing the 
ocean, arrives with them at the island. 

Here the proposal was renewed by the 
knights, and accepted by Monodontes ; who, 
waiting the accomplishment of their promise, 
o 2 


lodged them in a magnificent palace near his 
own. Here too was guested the infamous 
Origilla, who was privy to Orlando's de- 
sign. She having her mind entirely set upon 
Gryphon, who (it will be remembered) was 
amongst the prisoners of Monodontes, and 
thinking she was possessed of sure means of 
delivering him, secretly presented herself before 
the king, and informed him that Orlando was 
in his power. 

As the covenanted reward of her service, 
Monodontes ordered Gryphon to be delivered 
up to her; and he refusing freedom, unless 
Aquilant was at the same time freed, both were 
set at liberty, and departed with Origilla. 

To take Orlando was a more difficult enter- 
prise ; but this was accomplished through the 
means of a potion, by which both he and Brandi- 
mart were put to sleep, and, while stupefied by the 
liquor, lodged in the dungeons of Monodontes.' 
In the solitude of their prison Orlando converts 


Brandimart to the Christian faith; and this 
knight, who appears to be the type of friendship 
and virtuous love, upon the guards of the mo- 
narch coming in search of Orlando, announces 
himself as the person sought for, and as such 
presents himself to Monodontes. 

This monarch tells Brandimart, whom he 
imagines to be Orlando, that he seeks the 
liberation of his son Ziliantes ; and as he knows 
no method of obtaining him from the fairy, but 
by such a sacrifice, is reluctantly compelled . 
to offer hun in exchange for the royal captive. 
To which Brandimart replies, that if he only 
seeks this, he may obtain his end without 
such a breach of hospitality, as his comrade 
is ready to descend to the dungeons of Mor- 
gana, where he has already been, and rescue 
him by force. That in the meantime he will 
remain as his hostage, and if he whom he is to 
free does not, within a month, return with 
Ziliantes, the king can, at the worst, accomplish 
o 3 


die deliverance of his son, by giving him up 
(the king believing him to be Orlando) to the 
vengeance of Morgana. 

Monodontes accedes to this proposal, and the 
real Orlando is suffered to depart. 

In the meantime Brandimart, always under 
the name of Orlando, remains for some time a 
prisoner at large ; when the secret is discovered, 
through the indiscretion of Astolpho, and Mo- 
nodontes in fury orders Brandimart to be cast 
into a dungeon, preparatory to his expiating 
his imposture by death. Orlando this while is 
bound upon his adventure, and arriving at the 
lake formerly kept by Arridano, finds upon its 
banks a beautiful lady weeping over a dead 

While Orlando contemplates this spectacle 
with surprise, the lady snatches up the dragon 
in her arms, and embarks with it in a Little 
pinnace, which was moored hard by. She now 
loosens from the shore, sets her sail, and having 


reached the middle of the lake, sinks to the 
bottom with her enchanted barque. 

Orlando was yet absorbed in wonder at what 
he had witnessed, when another damsel ar- 
rived upon the bank, mounted on a palfrey, 
and accompanied by a single sergeant, who 
called upon the count by name, and expressed 
the greatest pleasure at his sight. 

This damsel was no other than Flordelis, the 
lady-love of Brandimart ; the damsel of the 
barque, it will be easily divined, was Morgana. 

This fairy, upon the departure of Orlando 
from her enchanted garden, transformed Zili- 
antes, by the aid of certain witcheries, into a 
dragon, meaning that he should supply the 
place of Arridano and keep the avenues of her 
territory. Whether, however, from some error 
in her enchantments or other cause, the trans- 
formation was no sooner completed than the 
youth uttered a shriek and expired. Hence 
the fairy, distracted with her loss, had embarked 
o 4 


with him in the pinnace, and descended to the 
bottom of the lake, hi the hope of re-animating 
him in her world below. 

As soon as Flordelis, who was immediately 
recognised by the count, had set eyes upon 
him, she conjured him to lend her his assist- 
ance ; and, that he might understand for what 
purpose, entreated him to listen to her story, 
which she began in the following words. 

" I was wandering in search of Brandimart, 
when I fell in with the sergeant, whom you see 
with me ; and who, by a strange fortune, turn- 
ed out to be one who was also in search of him. 
His story was yet more extraordinary than the 
accident which brought us together, and is the 
cause of my present distress. He informed me 
that he was formerly a slave of the king Mono- 
dontes, and named Bardino; who, to avenge 
himself upon the monarch for some wrong, con- 
veyed away from him his eldest son, and sold 
him to the lord of the Svlvan Tower ; who 


conceived such fondness for him, that he brought 
him up as his son, and dying, left him his pos- 

" His love of arms, however, carried him 
away from the Tower, of which he had made 
Bardino castellan; and this was attacked by 
a neighbour named Rupardo, in his absence, 
with such forces as rendered a defence hopeless. 
Under these circumstances Bardino, had cast 
lots to learn the fate of Brandimart, and found 
that he was prisoner to Morgana. Hence it is," 
pursued the damsel, " that I entreat you to lend 
your assistance to recover him from her power." 

Orlando related in return what had since 
happened to Brandimart, and, lastly, how he 
had left him in the power of Monodontes, 
meaning to redeem him, by the recovery of 
Ziliantes, from the prisons of Morgana. 

The damsel heard Orlando's recital with 
gratitude, and, throwing herself on her knees, 


prayed devoutly for the success of his under- 

He immediately entered upon his adventure. 
Descending by the entrance, through which 
he had formerly ascended into the upper 
air, and which he remembered, though con- 
cealed by briars and thorns, he again traversed 
the field of treasure, and saw the golden seat, 
lying in the very place where Rinaldo had been 
obliged to abandon it. 

Thus pursuing his old path, he came upon 
Morgana near the fountain, where he had for- 
merly found her disporting herself. 

She was this time engaged in a very diffe- 
rent occupation, and was caressing Ziliantes, 
who had now resumed the human form, but 
remained yet pale, and terrified by the effects 
of the metamorphose. The count does not 
again neglect his opportunity, but, seizing the 
fairy by the forelock, compels her to abandon 


her prisoner. Orlando returning into light 
with Ziliantes by the ancient staircase, finds 
Flordelis yet engaged in prayer, and now all 
journeying to the coast, which was near, and 
embarking upon the ocean, arrive safely at 

The delight of Monodontes at the recovery 
of his two sons, when he had despaired 
of even retrieving Ziliantes, may be easily 
imagined: king and people become Christians; 
Rinaldo, Astolpho, Dudon, and the other pri- 
soners are set at liberty ; all is festivity, and the 
offence of Bardino is forgiven, in consequence 
of his subsequent attachment to Brandimart. 
To complete the general joy, a lady arrives at 
this period, who is recognized as the daughter 
of Monodontes and the damsel of the golden 

But human life is chequered by light and 
shade. The long continued festivities of 
Damogir are broken in upon by Dudon 


the Dane, who reminds the princes of their 
obligation to hurry to the defence of Christen- 

Rinaldo and all the Franks obey the sum- 
mons, with the exception of Orlando ; who, 
accompanied by Brandimart, his inseparable 
companion, returns towards Albracca. In 
the meantime Rinaldo, Iroldo, Prasildo, and 
the others, with Astolpho in the midst, armed 
with his lance of gold, set forward on their 
return to France. 

Travelling thus, north about, into Europe, 
the knights found themselves one morning in 
front of a beautiful castle and garden on the 
sea-shore. This was the domain of Alcina, 
sister of Morgana, and queen of the Atarberi. 
The fay herself was standing on the beach, 
and amusing herself with taking fish, which she 
inveigled by her enchantments. 

She herself was ensnared by the beauties of 
Astolpho, whom she invited to pass into a 


neighbouring island, in order to hear the music 
of a syren who frequented it. 

Astolpho crosses on horseback into the 
island, which lay close to the shore ; but this 
is in motion as soon as he reaches it, and proves 
to be a large whale, which was a minister 
of the fairy. Rinaldo and Dudon instantly 
swim off to his assistance, but the horse of 
Dudon sinking with his rider, Rinaldo is 
. compelled to swim Bayardo to the relief of the 
Dane, whom he succeeds in bringing to shore.. 
Meantime the whale floats out of sight, and a 
terrible tempest obscures both sky and ocean. - 

To succour Astolpho' was now' impossible, 1 
and the confederated champions continued their 
journey to the westward. 

Pursuing this, they at last arrived at Buda 
in Hungary, whence the king of that country 
was dispatching his son Ottachiero with a large 
army to the succour of Charlemagne. De- 
lighted with the arrival of Rinaldo, he placed 


his son and troops under this conduct, and 
these having, after long and distant marches, 
united themselves with the troops of Desiderius 
king of Lombardy, passed the Genovese Alps, 
and poured down into Provence. 

The confederate armies had not marched 
many days through this gay tract, before they 
heard a crash of drums and trumpets behind 
the hills, which spoke the conflict between the 
paynims, led by Rodomont, and the Christian 

Rinaldo, witnessing from a mountain the 
prowess of Rodomont, leaves his troops in 
charge of his friends, and gallops towards him 
with "his lance in the rest. The impulse is 
irresistible, and Rodomont is unhorsed. Ri- 
naldo, however, in a high spirit of chivalry, 
gallops back to the hill from which he had 
descended, secures Bayardo amongst the bag- 
gage, and returns to pursue the combat with 
his former antagonist on foot. 


During this interval the battle had become 
general, the Hungarians were routed by Ro- 
domont, and Rinaldo, on his return, had the 
mortification to find that Ottachiero was. 
wounded, and Dudon a prisoner. 

He now again engages Rodomont ; when in 
the midst of their strife, a new sound of drums 
and trumpets was heard, and die army of 
Charlemagne was descried advancing in bat- 

Rodomont, who had in the meantime 
mounted the horse of Dudon, leaves Rinaldo, 
who was on foot, and gallops to the attack 
of the enemy. A desperate battle ensues, but 
night separates the combatants. 

Rodomont now thinks only of Rinaldo, and 
deceived by a false report, sets off in pursuit of 
him towards the forest of Arden. 

Rinaldo, however, having this time gone in 
search of Bayardo, was returning towards the 
field upon that courser, when he fell in with 


the Saracens, engaged in carrying aboard their 
ships the plunder, and the prisoners made in 
battle. Some of these had already sailed for 
Africa with Dudon, while Rinaldo, still seeking 
Rodomont, makes a tremendous carnage among 
the rest. 

He at last learns that his adversary, following 
a false scent, is gone towards Merlin's fountain, 
in the forest of Arden, when he quits the pur- 
suit of the Saracens, in order to follow him. 

Rodomont was in the meantime far advanced 
upon .his way, when he fell in with a strange 
cavalier, that proved to be Ferrau, who had, it 
seems, returned to France, in search of Ange- 
lica. The two knights mixing in conversation, 
their talk, according to the practice of chivalry, 
turned upon love, when Ferrau spoke of Do- 
ralice, daughter of Stordilano, king of Granada, 
as a lady to whom he had been a suitor. Ro- 
domont, kindling at this, avowed his passion for 
her, declared he would bear with no rival in his 


love, and bade him resign all pretensions to 
her, or take his ground and defend himself. 
Ferrau replied, that he had loved her and left 
her; but that he would now love her in his 

A duel ensues, but the author leaves the 
knights engaged, in order to pursue the story 
of Rinaldo. He, still seeking his pursuer, 
Rodomont, misses him, whilst he is engaged in 
combat with Ferrau; and wandering into a 
sylvan lawn, in the middle of the forest of 
Arden, is surprised by the vision of a beau- 
tiful child, dancing naked, with three damsels, 
as naked and as beautiful as himself. While 
he is lost in admiration at the sight, the child 
approaches him, and smiting on his helmet with 
a bunch of roses and lilies, strikes him from his 
horse. He is no sooner down than he is seized 
by the dancers, by whom he is dragged about 
and scourged with flowers till he falls into a 
swoon. While he is yet absorbed in this, one 


of the group approaches him, who says her 
name is Pasiphae; that his punishment is the 
consequence of his rebellion against that power, 
before whom every thing bends ; and that there 
is but one remedy that can heal the wounds 
which have been inflicted ; and this is, to 
drink of the waters of Love. 

Rinaldo, sore and faint, drags himself into 
the neighbouring wood, and being parched with 
thirst, drinks greedily, and almost unconsciously, 
of a spring which he finds there. After repeated 
draughts of the water, which is sweet to the 
taste, but bitter at the heart, he recovers his 
strength and recollection, and finds himself in 
the same place where Angelica had formerly 
awakened him with a rain of flowers, and 
whence he had fled in contempt of her courtesy. 

His remembrance of the scene is followed by 
the recognition of his crime; and, repenting 
bitterly of his ingratitude, he leaps upon Bay- 
ardo with the intention of following Angelica 


to India, and soliciting his pardon at her feet. 
He has not ridden far with this intention, 
when he beholds, at a distance, a damsel 
mounted upon a palfrey, attended by a cavalier 
who bore a burning mountain for his device : 
but, before explaining who were the damsel and 
knight, the author returns to Marphisa, lately 
left in pursuit of Brunello. 

She had now hunted him for fifteen days. 
Her horse had sunk under her during the 
chase ; and she had cast away her arms, to be 
the better able to pursue him. 

Her pains were thrown away. Brunello 
arrived before her at the sea-side, and finding a 
vessel ready to sail, embarked, and arrived at 
Biserta, in Africa. Here he found Agramant, 
who was impatient for the ring, which was to foil 
the enchantments of Atlantes and to put Rogero 
into his hands. The dwarf, now kneeling be-; 
fore die king, related his story, and presented 
him with the ring of Angelica, and the horn 
p 2 


stolen from Orlando; when Agramant, delighted 
at the success of his mission, crowned him, in 
recompense, king of Tingitana. 

All are now anxious to go in quest of Ro- 
gero, nor will Brunello be left behind. The 
cavalcade accordingly departs, and having 
traversed the Great Desert, arrives at the 
mountain of Carena. 

At the bottom of this was a fruitful and 
well-wooded plain, watered by a large river, 
which traversed it in its way to the sea ; and 
.from this plain was descried a beautiful garden 
on the mountain-top, which contained the man- 
sion of Atlantes : but the ring, which discovered 
what was before invisible, could not, though it 
revealed this paradise, enable Agramant or 
his followers to enter it. So steep and smooth 
was the rock by nature, that none could scale 
it; and even Brunello was obliged to renounce 
the attempt. He did not, however, for this, 
despair of accomplishing the object of the en- 


terprise; and, having obtained Agramant's 
approbation, caused the assembled courtiers 
and knights to celebrate a tournament upon the 
plain below. This was done with the view of 
seducing Rogero from his fastness, and the 
stratagem was attended with success. 

Rogero joins the tourney, presented by Bru- 
nello with Sacripant's horse, Frontilatte, (whose 
name is afterwards changed into Frontino,) and 
with Balisarda, the sword of Orlando. In the 
medley he is treacherously wounded, but avenges 
himself of the traitor ; and, returning to the 
summit of the mountain, is healed by the skill 
and attention of Atlantes, having previously 
learned from Brunello the preparations which 
were making for the invasion of France, and 
having indeed received his horse and arms, as 
an earnest for his service in the expedition. 

The author now leaves him again on the 
mountain of Carena, to accompany Orlando 
and Brandimart. 

p 3 


These two, having separated from Rinaldo, 
Astolpho, and the rest, were pursuing their 
journey through India, when they found them- 
selves near a stone, situated by a fountain, where 
sate a lady, having her eyes fixed upon the 
ground, while a bridge, which divided two 
roads hard by, was kept by an armed knight. 

While Orlando and Brandimart were en- 
gaged in a friendly contest, who should first 
encounter him, a pilgrim advanced towards 
the bridge, notwithstanding the prohibition of 
him who kept it ; and finding that the knight 
approached in order to enforce his threat, cast 
off his pilgrim's slough, and showed that he 
was armed cap-a-pe. A fierce combat now 
ensued, between him and the warder of the 
bridge, whom both Brandimart and Orlando 
thought they had seen before, but could not 
recognise, through the strangeness of his dis- 
guise. In this strife the pilgrim at last sue- 


ceeded in making the warder give ground, and 
retire slowly from his post. 

On the other side of the bridge, and near 
the fountain which formed the stream, was a 
monument, which an inscription proclaimed to 
be the sepulchre of Narcissus. 

Contemplating himself in the neighbouring 
fountain, he had pined away ; and his death was 
productive of new calamities. The fairy Sil- 
vanella, as her evil destiny would have it, pass- 
ing near the body, fell in love with the dead 
youth, whom she entombed in this mausoleum 
of alabaster. Here, too, consumed by hopeless 
passion, she perished, and left this dying curse 
upon the waters ; that who contemplated them 
should see pourtrayed there such a vision of 
beauty, that they should become incapable of 
departing from the place. 

Many, who had arrived upon the banks of 
the river, in consequence of her malediction, 
remained gazing upon the stream, till they 
p 4- 


expired. Among these was the gentle king 
Larbiho, who came there with his leman Cali- 
dora, who remained inconsolable for his loss, 
and took up her dwelling in the meadow, where 
he died. This is she, who sits weeping by the 
water-side, and whose champion maintains the 
bridge against all comers. 

And such was the tale she told Orlando, 
whom she conjured, in favour of her pious 
intentions, to aid her cavalier, hard pressed by 
the pilgrim. 

Orlando, moved by her prayer, thrust him- 
self between the combatants, whom he separated, 
and recognized one for Sacripant, and the other 
for Isoliero. Isoliero had accompanied the lady 
from Spain to India, for the purpose of render- 
ing her this service ; and Sacripant had been 
dispatched (as was said) by Angelica, to king 
Gradasso, for assistance, towards whose king- 
dom he was now upon his way. 

When the count had learned from this mo- 


narch the object of his journey, and the peril 
of Angelica, he fled with Brandimart, from the 
dangerous water, mindful of the fate of those 
that had perished there ; leaving Isoliero, who 
had been severely wounded by Sacripant, in 
the company of Calidora. 

While Orlando took his way to Albracca, Sa- 
cripant took up the pilgrim's garb and staff, and 
pursued his towards the kingdom of Gradasso. 

Orlando, arriving before Albracca, finds it 
closely beleaguered. He, however, makes his 
way into the citadel, and relates his adventures 
to Angelica, from the time of his departure, 
up to his separation from Rinaldo and the rest, 
when they departed to the assistance of Charle- 
magne. Angelica, in return, described the 
distresses of the garrison, and the force of the 
besiegers; and in conclusion, prayed Orlando 
to favour her escape from the pressing danger, 
and escort her into France. Orlando, who 
did not suspect that love for Rinaldo, who had 


returned thither, was her secret motive, joyfully 
agreed to the proposal, and the sally was resolved. 

Leaving lights burning in the fortress, they 
departed at night-fall, and passed in safety 
through the enemy's camp. On the ensuing 
day, however, the besiegers discovered the de- 
ceit, stormed and sacked the citadel, and then 
pursued the deserters. 

Of these, Orlando went first, escorting An- 
gelica and Flordelis, while Brandimart covered 
their retreat. In consequence of this arrange- 
ment, Brandimart was separated one night 
from his companions, while Orlando and the 
two damsels were advancing on their way. 

As these last, sorely tormented by hunger, 
were entering a valley at sunset, they saw, at 
the other extremity, a party of Lestrigonians, 
seated at their supper, and immediately gal- 
loped towards them ; Orlando first, but fol- 
lowed by the damsels. Arriving amongst these 
cannibals, he prayed them, either for courtesy 


or hire, to give them food ; and, being re- 
ceived with a feigned hospitality, had already 
dismounted from his horse, in order to take 
some refreshment, when the leader of the party, 
coming behind him, dealt a blow with his club, 
that laid him senseless on the ground. The 
damsels, who had just come up, terrified at 
this catastrophe, fled different ways, pursued 
by a party of the Lestrigonians. 

During this time, the. others had stript Or- 
lando of his arms ; and were handling him, to 
see if he was fat, when he was awakened by the 
operation. Possessing himself of Durindana, 
he soon cleared the field of the cannibals, and 
was seeking an outlet from the valley, when 
he recognized Angelica, hunted by those who 
had pursued her and Flordelis. To save her, 
and avenge her of the miscreants, was the 
work of a moment. 

It was said that the two damsels separated 
in their flight ; in directing which, chance con- 


ducted each towards her natural protector ; for 
Flordelis, flying east, whilst Angelica fled west, 
galloped towards a wood, where Brandimart 
was sleeping, after having long sought his com- 
panions in vain. Brandimart was as prompt in 
rescuing her, as Orlando was in saving Ange- 
lica. It is needless to describe his transports 
on this occasion : these were, however, of short 
duration ; and he heard, with the bitterest 
regret, the narrative of Flordelis, who, relating 
what she believed she had witnessed, informed 
him she had left Orlando dead upon the field. 

Returning with Brandimart towards the spot 
where she had left the count, a strange adven- 
ture for a long time delayed their search ; for 
they had not ridden far, before they fell in with 
a cavalier on foot, unarmed, except as to his 
sword, who defied Brandimart to battle ; and 
while he, in a spirit of generosity, refused 
the challenge, snatched Flordelis from her 
palfrey, and running up a steep rock with his 


burden, threatened to throw her down a preci- 
pice, unless Brandimart ransomed her with his 
armour and his steed. 

As Brandimart's armour rendered it impos- 
sible for him to pursue, he consented to the 
sacrifice; and the stranger appropriated the 
spoils. This was Marphisa, who had thrown- 
by her arms, in order to pursue Brunello, and 
who, finding the chace hopeless, took this 
method to equip herself anew. 

Brandimart, now reduced to his tunick, and 
deprived of his courser, mounted the damsel's 
palfrey, seated her on the croup, and pro- 
ceeded on his way. 

They were doomed to experience new dan- 
gers and interruptions. For journeying thus, 
they fell in with a band of robbers, from whom 
Brandimart fled, in the hope of finding some 
means of defence. His hope was realized ; for, 
penetrating a wood, he arrived at a fountain, 
near which a king lay dead, who was armed 


cap-a-pe. Providing himself with his sword, 
Brandimart turned to bay, and soon made his 
pursuers repent of their temerity. These slain 
or put to flight, he clothed himself reluctantly 
in the other arms of the monarch, leaving him 
his crown and regal ornaments. This king was 
no other than Agrican, so preserved by a visible 

An after-combat with the captain of these 
corsairs put the knight in possession of a steed, 
and thus re-equipt, he accompanied Flordelis 
in search of Orlando. 

This paladin, having recovered Angelica 
(as has been related) had journeyed as far 
homeward as the sea-coast of Syria without 
impediment. Here he found a vessel ready to 
carry the king of Damascus, Norandino, to the 
island of Cyprus, where he was to make his 
first essay of arms. 

This was to be made for love of a lady 
whose name was Lucina, and whose father, Ti- 


biano was king of Cyprus. This sovereign had 
proclaimed a tournament, of which the princess 
was to be the prize, and thither went Noran- 
dino, who invited Orlando to accompany him. 
The count, disguising his name and country, 
and feigning himself a Circassian, called Roto- 
lante, accepted the offer, and, together with 
Angelica, joined Norandino, who was accom- 
panied by a brilliant train of adventurers. He 
was scarcely on ship-board before a breeze 
sprang up from the land, and the galley was 
under sail. 

For the tournament which was preparing, 
many Greeks and many Pagans had assembled, 
among whom were Basaldo and Morbeco, 
Turks, and Gostanzo a Greek. This Gostanzo 
was the son of Vataron, emperor of Constan- 
tinople, and had brought Gryphon and Aquilant 
in his company, who, together with Origilla, 
had sought the hospitality of the Grecian court. 

In the tourney the combatants are ranged 


under the banner of this Gostanzo on the 
one side, and that of Norandino on the other. 
Gryphon and Aquilant serve under the first, 
and Orlando under the second. They are, 
however, disguised from each other by borrowed 
devices, and Gryphon only suspects a knight 
who bore away the honors of the first day, to 
be Orlando, from his superior prowess, and 
from the presence of Angelica, whom he had 
observed seated amongst the ladies that 
honoured the spectacle with their presence. 

Imparting his suspicions to Gostanzo after 
the trumpets had blown to lodging, the wily 
Greek determined to rid himself of so formid- 
able an adversary. He accordingly introduced 
himself secretly to Orlando, and informed him of 
a treason which (as he said) the king of Cyprus 
meditated against him, at the instigation of Ga- 
nelon, offering him at the same tune the means 
of escape. This was a pinnace moored in a 
creek, in which Orlando, breathing vengeance 


against the Maganzese, embarked with Ange- 
lica, for France. 

Disembarking in Provence, they pursued 
their way by land, and arriving hot, and weary, 
in the forest of Arden, where Rinaldo had 
lately drunk of the fountain of Love, chance 
directed Angelica to the waters of Disdain, of 
which she drank. 

Issuing thence, the count and damsel en- 
countered a stranger knight. This was no 
other than Rinaldo, who had missed Rodomont, 
then engaged in combat with Ferrau ; and who, 
on a nearer approach, recognised Angelica with 
joy, though his new arms and ensigns disguised 
Orlando, who accompanied her. The conse- 
quences of such a meeting are easily foreseen. 
Angelica views Rinaldo with disgust, and a new 
cause of strife is kindled between the kinsmen. 

Terrified at the combat which ensued, An- 
gelica fled amain through the forest, and came 
out upon a plain, covered with tents. This was 


the camp of Charlemagne, who led the army of 
reserve, destined to support the troops which had 
advanced to oppose the descent of Rodomont. 
Charles, having heard the damsel's tale, with 
difficulty separates the two cousins, and then 
consigns Angelica, as the cause of quarrel, to 
the care of Namus duke of Bavaria, promising 
she shall be his who best deserves her, in the 
first battle with the Saracens. 

The author here returns to Agramant, who 
was left holding a tournament at the foot of 
Mount Carena in Africa. He having heard of 
the knight who was slain, and that, contrary to 
his orders, (which were only to employ courteous 
weapons,) determined to take vengeance upon 
his murderer, and supposing Brunello to be 
the criminal, (since Rogero had appeared with 
his arms and steed,) ordered him to be hanged 
upon the spot. 

The danger of him who was about to suffer 
for his sake, now again brought "Rogero from 


his retreat. He routed the troops appointed 
to watch over the execution, rescued Brunello, 
and then, presenting himself to Agramant, re- 
lated every thing as it had passed. 

Agramant, too happy to find the object of 
his search in the youth who had performed 
such wonders, forgave the death of the 
slaughtered cavalier, knighted Rogero, and car- 
ried him off to Biserta, where his vassal kings 
and barons assembled for the invasion of Chris- 

While they are in the midst of their revelry, 
a messenger reports the return of Rodomont's 
fleet, whose followers brought with them, as a 
prisoner, Dudon the Dane; but could give no 
account of Rodomont their leader. 

He was this while engaged in battle with 
Ferrau, with whom we left him quarrelling 
about Doralice ; but their strife was soon inter- 
rupted by the arrival of a messenger, who 
brought news that Marsilius was, at the insti- 
o 2 


gation of Ganelon, besieging Mount Albano. 
On hearing this, the duellists make peace, and 
ride together to join the besiegers. 

On their way they fall in with Vivian and 
Malagigi, sons of duke Aymon, of Mount Al- 
bano, who are proceeding towards Paris, to 
demand succour of Charlemagne; and Malagigi, 
retiring with Vivian into a wood, performs a 
magic rite, by which he ascertains the design of 
the approaching warriors Rodomont and Ferrau. 
To frustrate this, he conjures up a bevy of fiends, 
armed and mounted as knights, divides them 
into two squadrons, takes the command of one 
himself, and gives that of the other to Vivian. 
Thus accompanied, the Christian knights 
charge their adversaries. But the Pagans are 
too strong for them, take Malagigi and Vivian 
prisoners, and send their demons howling back 
to hell. 


Here the author exclaims, 

But that I would not seem with folly tainted, 
I own I would have fain beheld the attack ; 
So great is my desire to be acquainted 
With those the wizard brought his cause to back : 
And prove with my own eyes, if truly painted, 
The devil be so very foul and black ; 
More ; that his pictures differ as to nail, 
And horn, and hoof, and length and breadth of 

To return to the story, Rodomont and Ferrau 
arrive in the Spanish camp before Mount Albano, 
which is shortly afterwards attacked by the 
army of Charlemagne. Divers feats of prowess 
are achieved on both sides ; but the most in- 
teresting circumstance is a single combat 
between Rodomont and Bradamant ; which the 
author breaks off in order to resume the story 
of Br andimart. 

This knight, having obtained a steed and 
2 3 


armour, as has been before related, proceeds 
with Flordelis towards Europe. 

Thus journeying, the pair arrived in front of 
a magnificent palace. Here a damsel, standing 
in a balcony, motioned to them to take another 
way ; but in vain ; for Brandimart, feigning not 
to understand the purport of her signs, rode 
boldly up to the gate. He is now opposed by 
a giant, armed with a serpent, which he uses as 
a sword. Him the knight vanquishes after 
a long battle, in which he is opposed by a 
variety of enchantments ; the giant and serpent 
exchanging forms, as one or the other is slain 
He next kills a knight who kept a sepulchre 
in the inner court, and opposed his further 

He and Flordelis, who had followed her 
lover, now seek the gate by which they had 
entered, but all appearance of it was lost. 

While they are vainly seeking the means of 


escape, they are addressed by the damsel who 
had at first waved them from the palace ; and 
who informed Brandimart, he must open the 
sepulchre, and kiss whatever issued from it, 
if he expected deliverance from his prison. 
Brandimart, little terrified by the injunction, 
promised compliance ; but started back, and put 
his hand to his sword, on the appearance of a 
dragon. Reproached by the damsel of the 
castle for his breach of promise, he manned his 
spirits for the encounter, and kissed the monster 
in the mouth. A sudden cold ran through his 
bones at coming hi contact with her : but what 
was his surprise, on seeing the dragon trans 
formed into a beautiful damsel ! 

This was a fay so transmuted, who, grateful 
for her deliverance, offered to enchant the 
horse and arms of Brandimart, at the same time 
entreating him to conduct the lady of the 
castle, who was named Doristella, into Syria. 

This promised, the gate re-appeared, the fay 
2 4 


enchanted the steed and arms of Brandimart, 
and he, accompanied by the two ladies, de- 
parted upon the quest enjoined. 

They had ridden some time in silence, when 
Doristella, rallying the knight for his taciturnity, 
proposed to beguile the way with the relation 
of her adventures. The offer was gratefully 
received, and the damsel began her story as 
follows : 

" My father, king Doliston," said she, " had 
two daughters, the eldest of whom, while yet a 
child, was carried off by a thief from the shore 
of Lissa. Of this daughter, who was the pro- 
mised spouse of Theodore the son of a neigh- 
bouring king, nothing was ever afterwards 

" And what was the name of the mother ?" 
exclaimed Flordelis ; but Brandimart having 
checked her for her interruption, Doristella 
continued her narrative in her own way. " My 
intended brother-in-law," said the damsel, " still 


kept up his connection with my family, and he 
and I soon became mutually enamoured of 
one another. The young man at length un- 
bosomed himself to my father, and demanded 
me in marriage; but my father, to his morti- 
fication, told him, that he had that very day 
promised me to the wretch, whom you slew in 
the palace. 

" To this wretch, named Usbeck of Bursa, 
a Turcoman by nation, was I wedded ; a man 
valiant in the field, but, as to the rest, little 
capable of winning a lady's love. This man, 
who was jealous in proportion to the grounds 
he gave me for disgust, was compelled to join 
an expedition against Vatarone the emperor of 
Greece. Departing, he left me in care of a 
slave called Gambone, a monster of deformity, 
whom he commanded never to stir from my 
side. He had not been long absent, when 
Theodore arrived at Bursa, and having cor- 
rupted Gambone, obtained access to my bed. 


Our intercourse was long continued, to our 
mutual satisfaction, when Usbeck arrived sud- 
denly one night at Bursa, and demanded instant 
entrance into his house. Our courage did not 
desert us under these circumstances, and Theo- 
dore, slipping down stairs in the dark, escaped 
at the same time that Usbeck was admitted. 
Our danger, however, did not end here; for 
my husband's suspicions had been awakened by 
his detention at the door, and searching every 
part of my chamber, he found a mantle which 
my lover had left behind him in his retreat. 

His suspicions being now confirmed, he burst 
into a transport of jealous fury, and ordered the 
slave Gambone for instant execution. According 
to the custom of the country, his other slaves 
were conducting him for that purpose, through 
the city with a horn sounding before him, when 
Theodore met the procession, and falling upon 
the criminal, reproached him, amid a shower of 
blows, with having robbed him of his mantle. 


Tliis trick of Theodore's, who was unknown to 
Usbeck, saved the slave, and effaced the sus- 
picions which he entertained of my fidelity. 
New offences, however, on my part, for I still 
continued my intercourse with Theodore, re- 
newed his jealousy, and he at last shut me up 
in the enchanted palace whence you delivered 
me ; though it was not then kept by the giant 
and serpent, which were the afterwork of a 
necromancer who wrought for him." 

The damsel was here interrupted by an out- 
cry, and the party was instantly set upon by 
thieves. These were, however, beaten off, and 
their leader taken- prisoner by Brandimart. 
He, throwing himself at the feet of the cavalier, 
entreated him not to carry him to Lissa, as 
he dreaded the vengeance of Doliston, the 
prince of that country, for having formerly 
carried off his eldest daughter, whom he had 
sold to the lord of the Sylvan Tower. 


Brandimart, however, who has secret reasons 
(as will be shortly seen) for being pleased at 
this account, insists upon carrying him to Lissa; 
and arriving before Doliston's capital, finds it 
besieged by Theodore, in revenge for the 
monarch's having refused him Doristella. All 
now is cleared up. Flordelis turns out to be 
the missing daughter of Doliston, who had been 
wooed by Brandimart in the Sylvan Tower; 
and no further obstacle existing to the union of 
Theodore and Doristella, these two, as well as 
Brandimart and Flordelis, are united in mar- 
riage; Doliston and Theodore having previously 
made peace. 

After long festivities in honour of these double 
espousals, Brandimart and Flordelis, still anxi- 
ous to pursue Orlando, embark for France with 
a prosperous wind. This, however, changes ; 
increases to a tempest ; and finally drives them 
on the shores of Carthage. Here Brandimart, 


less anxious for his own safety than for that of 
Flordelis and his companions, conceals his 
being a Christian, and announcing himself only 
as son of Monodontes, king of the Distant 
Isles, declares that it was his purpose to visit 
Agramant in Biserta. 

He accordingly sets off, always attended by 
Flordelis, for that capital; where he is mag- 
nificently received, and is afterwards carried off 
by Agramant, together with Rogero, on his 
expedition against France. 

Agramant, leaving Dudon a prisoner at large 
in Biserta, which was to be governed in his 
absence by a vice-roy, embarks upon his long 
meditated enterprise, disembarks in Spain, 
and arrives, by forced marches, near Mount 
Albano, in the neighbourhood of which the 
armies of Charlemagne and Marsilius were left 

Tlie strife was still continued with unabated 


fury ; and in this llinaldo was matched with 
Ferrau, king Grandonio with tlie marquis 
Oliviero, Serpentine with Ogier the Dane, and 
Marsilius himself against Charlemagne. . 

These duels were, however, of little account, 
compared with that which raged between Ro- 
domont and Bradamant. Of this desperate 
contest Orlando was a witness ; who would not 
-turn his arms against Rodomont while he was 
engaged with so formidable an adversary. 

While Orlando thus played the part of a 
looker-on, he was surprised by the sound of an 
approaching enemy, and casting his eyes in 
that direction, saw a plump of spears, with 
banners and pennons, descending (he sides of 
* mountain. He immediately stooped from 
his saddle to pick up a weighty lance which was 
lying on the ground, and thus prepared himself 
for the encounter of what proved to be the army 
of Agramant. <..-. // ; a ._> .,. . / 


This sovereign had in the meantime dis- 


patched one of his vassal kings, named Pina- 
doro, towards the field of battle, with orders to 
bring him one or more prisoners, who might 
inform him of the state of the Christian army. 
Pinadoro and Orlando meet and tilt together: 

O ' 

but the feudatory king, instead of accomplishing 
the orders of his sovereign, remains the prisoner 
of the count He is, however, no sooner taken 
than liberated by his conqueror, who bids him 
return to his army in peace. The report of his 
ill success does not frighten Agraniant from his 
purpose; and the Moorish army descends like 
a torrent into the plain. 

At the sight of these new enemies, Charles left 
Marsilius, who was closely pressed by him, and 
ordered Rinaldo also to give a respite to Fer- 
rau, and lead a squadron against the approaching 
troops, whom he divined to be what they really 
were* Other divisions of the army followed in 


support of one another, and a bloody battle 
ensued, with various and very doubtful success. 
Meantime Orlando, who wished such measure 
of misfortune to Charlemagne as should make 
his assistance necessary, and ensure him the 
possession of Angelica as his reward, had re- 
tired from the medley into a neighbouring 
wood, and was praying devoutly for the dis- 
comfiture of the Christians. By accident, Fer- 
rau, fatigued by his long contest with Rinaldo, 
and lately as hard pressed by him as Marsilius 
was by Charlemagne, had sought shelter in the 
same retreat Here, stooping to drink from the 
banks of a river, he dropt his helmet in the 
water, and was engaged in a vain attempt to 
recover it, when he was discovered by Orlando. 
The count, however, was too generous to attack 
an enemy under such disadvantages, and 
weakened as Ferrau evidently was by the 
combat he had previously waged against Hi- 


naldo. He accordingly, after a short conference 
with him, in which he learned the state of 
things, spurred his courser, in order to join the 
army of Charlemagne. 

Here he performs high feats of valour, and, 
after the slaughter of many adversaries, is ad- 
vancing against Rogero, when Atlantes, who 
had accompanied the youth, (since he could not 
restrain him from following his destiny,) diverts 
Orlando from his object by the vision of a tri- 
umphant Pagan squadron, and of the personal 
danger of Charlemagne. Fascinated by this 
illusion, he follows the supposed Saracens into 
the forest of Arden. Here the vision dis- 
appears ; and the count, wearied with the fruit- 
less chace, lights from Brigliadoro near a fountain. 
Stooping to drink, he sees a crystal palace at 
the bottom, through the walls of which he 
beholds a dance of ladies, and, unable to resist 
the temptation of an adventure, plunges, armed 
as he is, into the fountain. 





The third book opens with the introduction of a new cha- 
racter, Mandricardo, son of Agncan, the Tartar king, who, 
pursuing his way to France in order to avenge his father's 
death, is made the prisoner of a fairy. He frees himself, 
acquires the arms of Hector, and is, as well as other knights, 
involved in various adventures, till the story returns to the 
invasion of France, which is suddenly interrupted in the 

11 2 


THE author opens this book by stating, that 
he is called away to the north. Here a mighty 
storm was gathering ; and France, already sore- 
bested, was suddenly threatened by a new storm 
from the remote quarter of Tartary. 

The emperor of this region, named Mandri- 
cardo, having wasted it by his violences, was 
proceeding in a course of imperious tyranny, 
when an old man threw himself in his way, and, 
reproaching him with his outrages, bade him 
desist from warring upon the innocent and 
defenceless, and seek to revenge the death of 
his father upon one who was worthy of his 
R S 


wrath ; to wit, upon Orlando, the murderer of 
king Agrican. 

Stung to the heart by the old man's re- 

preaches, Mandricardo, determining to owe his 
success in the enterprise on which he resolved 
to his own individual valour, leaves his king- 
dom incognito, and departs, without horse 
or arms, towards the west. Travelling thus 
alone and a-foot, he had passed the confines 
of Armenia, when he spied upon a day a pavi- 
lion, pitched near a fountain ; and imagining 
that he might there find what he was deter- 
mined to win by force, entered it, with the 
view of searching for the horse and arms of 
which he stood in need. There was none to 
defend the entrance, and he was already 
within the pavilion, when a voice was heard 
to murmur from the waters, that he was a 
prisoner to the power, whose possession he had 


Mandricardo, however, heard not, or else 
disregarded the voice ; and pursuing his search, 
found a suit of armour, disposed upon a carpet, 
and a courser fastened to a neighbouring pine. 

He immediately clothed himspJf in the 
arms, and seized upon the steed, with which he 
was departing, when a fire suddenly * sprang 
up before him, that, spreading itself, de- 
stroyed the pine, and left the fountain and 
pavilion alone untouched. Mandricardo is 
himself embraced by the flames, which destroy 
his armour and clothing even to his shirt. 
To escape the torture, he leaps from his horse, 
every thing which he had on him being con- 
sumed, and casts himself into the water. Here, 
he is received into the arms of a naked dam- 
sel of incomparable beauty, who kisses him, 
and bids him be of good cheer, informing 
him that he is taken in the snare of a fairy, 
but that if he has heart and discretion, he 
n t 


may rescue not only himself, but so many dam- 
sels and cavaliers, that he shall reap immortal 
glory from the achievement. 

She pursued her story, informing him, that 
the fountain was the work of a fairy, who had 
imprisoned there king Gradasso of Sericane, 
Gryphon and Aquilant, and many other knights 
and ladies. " Beyond the hill," said she, 
" which you see before you, is situated a castle, 
where this fairy has laid up the arms of Hector, 
with the exception of his sword. On his being 
slain treacherously by Achilles, a queen, named 
Penthesilea, possessed herself of this. At her 
death it passed to Almontes, and from him was 
taken by Orlando. This weapon was called 
Durindana. The remainder of his arms was 
saved and carried off by ^Eneas, from whom they 
were received by her, in recompence of a mar- 
vellous service which she had bestowed upon 
him. If you have the courage to attempt the 


acquisition of these arms, secured in yonder 
castle by enchantment, I will be your guide." 

Mandricardo was enraptured at the pro- 
posal, and only hesitated at the idea of exposing 
himself naked. This difficulty was, however, 
got over by the lady, who, letting down her 
hair, which was bound about her head in 
braids, furnished a complete covering for her- 
self and the cavalier. Being sheltered from 
sight by this, they issued, linked arm in arm, 
from the water, and took their way together to 
the pavilion. 

Entering this, which, as was said, remained 
untouched by the fire, they reposed for some 
time upon flowers. At length the damsel gave 
the signal for departure, and having clothed 
Mandricardo in armour, conducted him where 
a courser was in waiting. Upon this he leapt, 
all armed as he was; and the lady having 
mounted on a palfrey, both set forward on their 


They had ridden about a mile, when the 
damsel, explaining the dangers of the quest, 
informed Mandricardo that he would have to 
combat with Gradasso, the conqueror of 
Gryphon, who had at first maintained the field 
against all comers. 

Thus speaking, they arrived at the castle, 
which was of alabaster, overlaid with gold. 
Before this, on a lawn, enclosed with a barrier 
of live myrtles, sat an armed knight on horse- 
back, and who was no other than Gradasso. 
Mandricardo, upon seeing him, dropt his vizor, 
and laid his lance in the rest. The champion of 
the castle was as ready, and each spurred 
towards his opponent. They splintered their 
spears with equal force, and again returning 
to the charge, encountered with their swords. 
This contest was long and doubtful, when 
Mandricardo, determining to bring it to an 
issue, threw his arms about Gradasso, and the 
two horsemen, grappling together, tumbled to 


the ground. In the struggle, however, Man- 
dricardo fell uppermost, and preserving his 
advantage, made Gradasso prisoner. The 
damsel now interfered, proclaiming the victory 
of the new comer, and consoling the vanquished 
as she could, for his discomfiture. 

In the meantime, the sun had set upon the 
strife, and it was too late for Mandricardo to 
enter the enchanted castle, which the damsel 
informed him would be only accessible after 
sunrise. She invites him, therefore, to lie down 
amongst the flowers with which the meadow is 
enamelled, proffering to be his guard ; but 
informs him, that there is harbourage to be 
obtained at a neighbouring castle, though it can 
only be purchased by exposure to notable peril. 
This, she says, is kept by a kind and courteous 
lady, who is often disturbed, in the exercise of 
her hospitality, by a giant named Malapresa, 
whom he would do well to avoid, as he has 
already sufficient toil and danger on his hands. 


Mandricardo rejects this kind intimation, 
and insists upon being guided to the lady's 

He and the damsel accordingly set off in that 
direction, and soon arrive at the palace, which 
is illuminated with a thousand lights. It ap- 
peared as if a watch was kept for friends or 
foes ; and a dwarf was posted in a gallery over 
the entrance, whose duty it was to give notice 
of all comers. On the winding of his horn, if 
there were cause for suspicion, the house- 
hold, armed with missile weapons, assembled in 
the balconies : but if it were an errant knight, 
in search of hospitality, damsels came forth to 
salute him, and conduct him into the castle. 

In this manner was Mandricardo received, 
who was afterwards magnificently entertained 
by the lady of the mansion. Their festivity is, 
however, interrupted by the dwarf's horn, which 
sounds an alarum. The signal is hardly given, 
before Malapresa has forced the gate, and 


appears in the middle of the guests, armed with 
an enormous mace. A furious combat now en- 
sues between him and the Tartar king, in which 
the giant is slain, and cast into the castle ditch. 
This event occasions only a short interruption 
of the festivity, which is prolonged late into the 
night. The revellers at length retire; and 
Mandricardo amongst the rest, who is as mag- 
nificently lodged, as he had been feasted, by the 
lady of the castle. 

At sun-rise he starts from his couch, descends 
into the castle-garden, washes himself at a 
fountain ; then puts on his armour, and, guided 
by his former conductress, proceeds upon his 

On arriving at the eastern entrance of the ' 
outer wall of the enchanted castle, which was 
not more magnificent than extensive, and which 
entrance Mandricardo found undefended, he 
was informed, that he must plight an oath upon 
the threshold, to touch a shield which was sus- 


pended. there from a pilaster of gold. The bear- 
ing of this was a white eagle on an azure field, 
in memory of the bird of Jove, who bore away 
Ganymede, the flower of the Phrygian race. 
Beneath was engraved the following legend : 

Let none, Mth hand profane, my buckler wrong, 
Unless he be himself as Hector strong. 

The damsel immediately, alighting from her 
palfrey, inclined herself to the ground; the 
Tartar king bent himself with equal reverence, 
and afterwards passed the threshold without 
an obstacle. 

Advancing through the eastern entrance of 
the enclosure towards the shield, Mandricardo 
touched it with his sword. An earthquake 
immediately shook the place, and the way by 
which he had entered closed. Another, and 
an opposite gate, however, opened, and dis- 
played a field, bristling with stalks and grain of 
gold. The damsel upon this told him, that he 


who had entered had no means of departure 
but by cutting down the harvest which was 
before him, and in uprooting a tree which 
grew in the middle of the field. The cham- 
pion, without answering, prepared himself, for 
his work, and immediately began to mow the 
harvest with his sword. A strange effect fol- 
lowed; and every grain was instantly trans- 
formed into some ravenous animal, lion, 
panther, or unicorn, who all flew in fury at the 

Mandricardo, thus assailed, snatched up a 
stone, without knowing what virtue resided in 
it, and cast it amongst the herd. This stone 
was party-coloured, green, vermilion, -white, 
azure and gold. A strange wonder followed : 
for it no sooner lighted amongst the beasts, 
than they turned their rage one against the 
other, and perished by mutual wounds. Man- 
dricardo did not stop to marvel at the mi- 
racle, but proceeded to fulfil his task, and 


uproot the tree. This, which was lofty and 
full of leaves, he embraced by the trunk, mak- 
ing vigorous efforts to tear it up by the roots. 
At each of these fell a shower of leaves, which 
were instantly changed into birds of prey, who 
attacked the knight, as the beasts had done 
before. Undismayed, however, by this new 
annoyance, he continued to tug at the trunk till 
it yielded to his efforts. A burst of wind and 
thunder followed, and the hawks and vultures 
were dispersed. 

These, however, only gave place to a new 
foe ; for from the hole made by tearing up the 
tree, issued a furious serpent with many tails, 
who darted at Mandricardo, wound herself 
about his limbs, and was about to devour him* 
Fortune, however, again stood his friend; for, 
writhing under the folds of the monster, and 
struggling to free himself, he fell backwards 
into the hole, and his enemy was crushed 
beneath his weight* 


Mamlricardo, when he had somewhat re- 
covered from the shock, and assured himself 
of the destruction of the dragon, began to con- 
template the place into which he had fallen, and 
saw that he was in a vault, encrusted with 
costly metals, and illuminated by a live coal. 
In the middle was a sort of ivory bier, and upon 
this was extended, what appeared to be a knight 
in armour, but what was in truth, an empty 
trophy, composed of the rich and precious 
arms, once Hector's, and to which nothing 
was wanting but the sword. While Man- 
dricardo stood contemplating the prize, a door 
opened behind him, and a bevy of fair damsels 
entered dancing, who bore him away to the 


place where the shield was suspended, and 
where he found the fairy of the castle seated 
in state. By her he was invested with the 
arms which he had won, he first swearing, at 
her injunction, to wear no other blade but the 
sword Durindana, which he was to ravish from 


Orlando, and thus complete the conquest of 
Hector's arms. 

The adventure was now accomplished, and 
the champion departed in order to achieve die 
great purpose, for which he left his realm of 
Tartary. Many illustrious knights issued at 
the same tune from the dungeons of the fairy, 
who had remained prisoners on a failure of 
their enterprise, and who had been now liber- 
ated by his success. Amongst these were 
Gradasso, Isolier, Sacripant, Gryphon, and 
Aquilant, with many others. 

Mandricardo himself pursued his journey, in 
company with GradasSo. Of the others, Gry- 
phon and Aquilant, who knew the language of 
the Saracens, travelled through strange coun- 
tries ; and thus journeying along the sea-shore, 
fell in with two damsels, the one clothed in white, 
and the other in black, and attended by two 
dwarfs. As the colour of their respective ladies, 
such was that of their dwarfs, and of the palfreys 


which they rode : saving in this, they were so 
alike, as to be undistinguishablc one from the 
other ; and were equals in beauty and grace. 

" Sister," said one of these, addressing her- 
self to her companion, " there is no defence 
against destiny ; yet wisdom may in some sort, 
controul fortune : then let us detain these, 
at least awhile, from the fate which is reserved 
for them in France." Thus spoke the sable 
to the white dasmel, unheard of the two knights 
who were approaching, and who saluted them 
with all the courtesy due to their bearing and 

One of the ladies demanded a boon of the 
two cavaliers ; who both as instantly vowed to 
perform whatever was enjoined them. This 
was to take the field against a miscreant, named 
Orrilo, engendered of a goblin and fairy, who 
inhabited a tower upon the Nile, where he 
kept (says the story) a kind of dragon, termed 
a crocodile, and fed it with human flesh. . The 
P 2 


damsels go on to state, that hitherto no one 
has been able to prevail against the wretch, 
who, in dying, renews himself like the phoenix. 
This account does not discourage the brothers, 
who again proffer their assistance. 

Aquilant accordingly encounters Orrilo, where 
he keeps the way against travellers; and he 
being sore pressed, flies to the tower, and turns 
out his crocodile. 

Gryphon now deems himself justified in 
assisting his brother; and the crocodile is at 
length slain. Orrilo, however, though often 
worsted, appears to be irresistible : for though 
he is frequently unhorsed, and is actually se- 
vered into two parts by one of the brothers, 
he constantly re-unites himself, and renews the 
contest. The day is now closing, and the two 
.brothers are in despair. 

\Vhile things are in this state, a new per- 
former appears upon the theatre. This is 
.a knight, who dragged a giant captive: but 


here the author leaves Gryphon and Aquilant, 
as well as the knight and his prisoner, and 
resumes the story of Mandricardo and Gra- 
dasso, who were left journeying together towards 

This pair, after traversing various regions, 
arrive upon the sea-coast, where they find a 
lady chained and exposed upon the beach. 
On their interrogating her, she tells them, 
that she awaits the approach of a furious 
Ork, who will devour her alive ; and entreats 
them, as an act of compassion, rather to put 
her to an immediate death, than to leave her 
exposed to so horrible a fate. The only favour 
that she requests of them, besides this dreadful 
grace, is, (should they fall in with him,) to 
inform Norandino, king of Damascus, of her 
death, and dying sentiments of affection to him. 

The knights, however, insist on defending 
her, and a dreadful conflict ensues between 
them and the Ork, who is represented as some- 
s 3 


thing indistinct, monstrous and gigantic. Gra- 
dasso is soon overpowered, and Mandricardo, 
who, in conformity to his vow, was unprovided 
with a sword, is obliged to fly before the pest. 

He, however, finds his deliverance in flight ; 
for, speeding his steps along the cliffs, he ar- 
rives at a frightful chasm, at which he springs 
in utter desperation. The Ork following him, 
is unable to clear it, and tumbles down the 

Mandricardo quit of his foe, descends to the 
shore, in search of Gradasso and Lucina, (for 
so was named the lady chained to the rock,) 
and proceeds in company with them along the 
beach. From this they behold a ship in the 
distance, which bears the flag of Tibiano, king 
of Cyprus and Rhodes, the father of Lucina, and 
who was then seeking his daughter. Lucina, 
overjoyed at the sight, makes a signal of her vest, 
and waves the galley to the land. On board this 
she embarks, together with her defenders ; but 


the vessel has scarcely shown her stern to the 
shore, when the Ork re-appears, with a mon- 
strous fragment of a mountain on his shoulders : 
This he heaves into the sea, which flashes above 
her topmast head, and all cower at the bottom 
of the vessel for refuge ; but the mass misses 
the mark at which it was hurled, and a loud 
land-wind rising at the moment, the vessel is 
blown off to sea. 

One danger is only substituted for another; 
the storm increases, and all is darkness and 
dismay. In this situation, the night closes 
in, during which they drift at the mercy of the 
winds. The succeeding day dawns upon them 
under better auspices; and they find them- 
selves, in the morning, upon the shore of Acqua- 
morta, where a mountain separates France and 

Here they land in the neighbourhood of a 
cave, called Runa, without having any know- 
ledge of the coast upon which they are cast. 
s 4 


Leaving there Tibiano and Lucina, Graclasso 
and Mandricardo proceed, armed and mounted, 
in search of intelligence. 

They have not proceeded far, before they 
hear the noise of battle, and pushing their 
horses towards the sound, find Agramant en- 
gaged with Charlemagne. 

The main story is thus brought back to the 
point where the Christian and paynim armies 
were left, and where the tide of conquest was 
fluctuating between the hostile forces. Retiring 
from the medley, Ferrau had withdrawn into 
a neighbouring wood, and was fishing for his 
helmet, in a stream in which he had lost it as 
he stooped to drink. At this period fortune 
declares decisively in favour of the infidels ; 
and, while Rogero and Rinaldo are engaged 
in a single combat on foot, Charlemagne's 
forces give way at all points, in irreparable 

The duel of the two champions is inter- 


ruptcd by the crowd of fugitives and pursuers ; 
and Rinaldo, now seeing Bayardo loose in the 
field, attempts to get possession of him. The 
horse, however, will not be taken; and Rinaldo, 
following him into a thick wood, is left there by 
the author, who returns to Rogero. 

Rogero was also a-foot, and grieving for the 
loss of his own horse, Frontino, whom he how- 
ever recovered in the rout. He now finds 
Bradamant and Rodomont engaged in combat. 
Though he knew not who they were, he could 
distinguish that one was a paynim, and the 
other a Christian ; and, moved by the spirit of 
courtesy, approached them, and exclaimed, 
'.* Let him of the two, who worships Christ, 
pause, and hear what I have to say. The 
army of Charles is routed, and in flight; so 
that if he wishes to follow his leader, he 
has no tune for delay." Bradamant, who is 
thunderstruck with the tidings, desires imme- 
diately to leave the field; but this is refused by 


her antagonist : and Itogcro, indignant at his 
discourtesy, insists upon her departure, while 
he takes up the quarrel with llodomont. 

This, long and obstinately maintained on 
both sides, is interrupted by the return of 
Bradamant, who, not being able to overtake 
the fugitives, and being divided in her feelings, 
as to what she owed on the one side to her 
emperor, and on the other to the stranger who 
had so generously taken her part, yields at last 
to what was the stronger impulse, and comes 
back to his assistance. 

She arrives, however, when he was least in x 
need of it ; and when he had smote his enemy 
such a blow, as obliged him to drop both his 
sword and bridle. Rogero, however, disdaining 
to profit by his defenceless situation, sate apart 
upon his horse, whilst that of Rodomont bore 
his rider, stunned and stupefied, about the field. 
Rogero was at this juncture approached 
by' Bradamant; who conceived a yet higher 


notion of his valour, on beholding such an 
instance of forbearance. She addressed him, 
by excusing herself for leaving him exposed to 
an enemy from his interference in her cause, 
pleading her attachment to her sovereign as 
the motive ; and was engaged in conference with 
him, when Rodomont recovered from his con- 
fusion. His bearing was however changed, 
and he disclaimed all thoughts of further con- 
test with one tf who he said, had already van- 
quished him by his courtesy." So saying, he 
quitted his antagonist, picked up his sword, and 
spurred out of sight. 

Bradamant was now again desirous of retir- 
ing from the field, and Rogero insisted on ac- 
companying her, though yet unconscious of her 

As they pursued their way, she enquired 
the name and quality of her new associate ; 
and Rogero informed her of his nation and 
family. Beginning from the destruction of 


Troy, he told her that Astyanax, who was pre- 
served by a stratagem of the Greeks, having 
established the kingdom of Messina, in Sicily, 
perished by the treachery of a priest, named 
(Egystus. The widow of this prince, being 
then big with child, flying from her enemies, 
escaped to Rheggio. Here she brought .forth 
a son, who was christened Polydore. From 
this Polydore descended Polydantes, and from, 
him twin branches, who gave origin to two 
other families of renown. From one of these 
sprang the royal race of Pepin and Charle-i 
magne; and from the other, two illustrious, 
houses, one of which took root at Rheggio, 
(* once called Risa') and the other at Ancona. 
" From that of Rheggio am I derived," continu-. 
ed he ; " and am son of Rogero, the son of Ago- 
lant and Gallicella.. She "flying when big with 
me, from a horrible persecution which she. 
endured during the absence of her husband,, 
then, engaged ,in war, brought me forth in a. 


foreign land, and died in giving me life. It 
was here that a magician took charge of me, 
who trained me to feats of arms amidst the 
dangers of the desert and of the chace." 

Having thus ended his tale, Rogero entreated 
a similar return of courtesy from his compa- 
nion ; who replied, without disguise, that she 
was of the race of Clermont, and sister to 
Rinaldo, the fame of whom was perhaps known 
to him. Rogero, much moved by this intel- 
ligence, entreats her to take off her helmet; 
and, at the discovery of her face, remains 
transported with pleasure. 

Whilst he is contemplating this with rap- 
ture, an unexpected danger hangs over the 
future lovers. A party which was placed in a 
wood, in order to intercept the retreating Chris- 
tians, breaks from its ambush upon the pair; 
and Bradamant, who was uncasqued, is wounded 
in the head. . Rogero is in fury at this attack ; 
and Bradamant, replacing her helmet, joins him 


in taking speedy vengeance on their enemies. 
Of these they clear the field, but separate in 
the pursuit; and the author first resumes the 
story of Rogero. 

Quitting the chace, and wandering by hill 
and vale, in search of her whom he had no 
sooner found than lost, Rogero now falls in 
with two knights, whom he joins, and who 
promise to assist him in the search of his 
companion, whose arms he describes, con- 
cealing, from & vague feeling of jealousy, her 
quality and sex. 

It was evening when they joined company, 
and having journeyed together through the 
night, the morning was beginning to break, 
when one of the strangers, fixing his eyes upon 
Rogero's shield, demanded of him by what 
right he bore the device pourtrayed upon it* 
Rogero, in return interrogated the enquirer 
as to his pretensions to the bearing of Hec- 
tor, who proclaimed himself to be Mandri- 


cardo, declared how he had won it, and pro- 
posed that arms should decide which of the 
two was most worthy to bear the symbol of 
the Trojan knight. 

Rogero felt no other objection to this pro- 
posal, than die scruple which rose out of the 
observation, that his antagonist was without a 
sword. Mandricardo, however, insisted that 
this need be no impediment; and then in- 
formed him of the vow which he had taken, 
never to wear a sword till he had completed 
the acquisition of Hector's arms by the conquest 
of Durindana. 

This was no sooner said, than a new anta- 
gonist started up in Gradasso, in whom the 
reader will have recognised the companion of 
Mandricardo. Gradasso now vindicates his 
prior right to the quest of Durindana, to obtain 
which he had embarked (as was related in the 
beginning) in that fearful war upon France. 
A quarrel is thus kindled between the kings of 


Tartary and Sericane. Mondricardo uproots 
a young elm-tree, to supply the place of a, 
sword; and Gradasso, disdaining to combat 
with unequal weapons, arms himself with a 
pine. Being thus furnished for offence, they 
encounter . one another with fury, while Rogero 
laughs and looks upon the strife. 

He, nevertheless, several times attempts to se- 
parate the combatants, but always without suc- 
cess. While the conflict is thus raging, a 
knight arrives upon the ground, accompanied 
by a damsel, to whom Rogero relates the cause 
and progress of the strife. This turns out to be 
Brandimart," accompanied by Flordelis. He 
also interposes his mediation, and succeeds 
better in bringing the two champions to accord. 
This he effects, by informing them that he can 
conduct them to the presence of Orlando, the 
master of Durindana. 

" If," said he, " you can heal him of a strange 
enchantment, it is from him that you may 


claim the sword ; nor is he one who will refuse 
you a fair field for obtaining it. Two leagues 
from hence," continued Brandimart, " is a 
water, called the River of Laughter, but which 
would be better entitled the Stream of Tears. 
Here Orlando is enchanted. An African ma- 
gician made this known to me, and I had 
already disposed myself to free him, or perish 
by his side, but being insufficient by myself 
for such an enterprise, Heaven has willed that 
I should light upon you to assist me in the 

Gradasso and Mandricardo instantly make 
truce, in order to accompany Brandimart in his 
quest, nor will Rogero be left behind. 

This resolution, however, gave rise to a 
serious difficulty ; for the number to be em- 
ployed in the adventure was to be unequal, as 
Brandimart was instructed ; and one must 
therefore necessarily be rejected. Who should 
lie rejected, it was now determined to decide 


by lot ; and chance pronounced against Man- 
dricardo, who departed with reluctance from 
the field, and wandering long, arrived at last 
in Agramant's camp, who had sate down before 

The story of Orlando is now resumed, where 
it was left by the author at the conclusion of 
the second book. The count having plunged 
into the fountain, termed the River of Laughter, 
is so delighted with the company of Naiads, 
and with the pleasures which he finds beneath 
the waters, that he remains there a willing 

About this water extended an enchanted 
wood, thick with evergreen trees; and here 
arrived Rogero, Gradasso, Brandimart, and 
Flordelis, determined to attempt the deliver- 
ance of Orlando. 

This forest seemed impenetrable; but by 
the advice of Flordelis, the knights descended 
from their horses, and determined to cut them- 


selves a passage. Rogero, in pursuance of 
this resolution, hews down a laurel with his 
sword. The tree is no sooner overthrown, 
than a beautiful damsel starts from its trunk, 
and claims the compassion of the knight. 
She informs him, that the trees which he be- 
holds, as well as that which he has felled, con- 
tain sister nymphs, the victims of enchantment ; 
the nature of which is such, that they remain 
transformed till liberated, as she had been, by 
the destruction of the plant in which they are 
imprisoned. " This deliverance is, however, 
as yet incomplete," pursued the damsel ; " and, 
to perfect it, you must accompany me to the 
water, if you would not see me again rooted 
in the forest." Rogero yields to her prayer, 
accompanies her to the water, and, seduced 
by the enchantment, leaps hand in hand with 
her into the fountain. 

In the meantime, Gradasso, attempting to 
clear his way, cuts down an ash, which is 
T 2 


converted into a courser. He immediately 
mounts it; when the horse transports him 
through the air, and plunges with him into the 
enchanted stream, where he remains a prisoner 
with the rest. * 

Brandimart, counselled by Flordelis, pur- 
sues the adventure with better success ; and 
resisting every species of temptation which is 
presented to him, at length arrives at the banks 
of the fountain. Here, however, he would have 
yielded to the same fascination as the others, 
but for the wise precautions of Flordelis, 

Who, for a safeguard, round his brow disposes 
A mystic garland of enchanted roses, f 

* The reader will see in this adventure, more especially in 
the author's fitting the temptations to the character of the 
knights, the hint which Tasso turned to so much better account 
in his creation of the forest of Armida. 

f The idea of roses being a solvent of enchantments, is as 
old as Apuleius and Lucian ; and, like most of the mysticisms 
to be found in those authors, is probably to be traced to a 
much more ancient source. 


She had also furnished him with the same 
ornaments for the others whom he was to 
deliver from the pool. Armed with these 
wreaths, he approaches the knights, whom he 
finds in the bowers of crystal, into which he 
plunged, and crowns them with the garlands. 
The charm forthwith operates ; their perverse 
inclination ceases, and they gladly return with 
their deliverer to the surface. 

They are scarcely safe from the spell, when 
Gradasso bethinks him of his long quest, and 
a fierce battle ensues between him and Orlando, 
for the possession of Durindana. They are, 
however, induced to suspend this by the in- 
stances of their companions, and the entreaties 
of a stranger dwarf, who appears, mounted on 
a palfrey, and entreats the assistance of some of 
the knights. 

These accordingly divide ; Orlando, attended 
by Brandimart and Flordelis, taking his way 
towards Paris, and Rogero and Gradasso ac- 
companying the dwarf. 


The author accompanies Orlando and his 
friends, who arrive before Paris, besieged by 
the forces of Agramant, amid whose ranks 
were to be found assembled, Rodomont, Man- 
dricardo, Ferrau, the newly arrived Gradasso, 
and all the worthies of the paynim army. 
Flordelis now retires into a wood for safety, 
while the two champions approach the camp 
of the besiegers. At this crisis Charlemagne 
makes a desperate sally, which is seconded by 
Orlando and Brandimart, and the fortune of 
the day seems balanced between the contending 

The author here leaves things thus suspended, 
and takes up the story of Bradamant, who lately 
separated form Rogero, in repulsing the am- 
buscade of the paynims. She journeying alone, 
and still suffering from her wound, at length 
reaches a hermitage, the tenant of which ex- 
amines her head, cuts off her hair and with this 
bandages, and finally heals the gash which she 
had received. 


Departing from his hermitage, and still pur- 
suing her way alone, she alights from her horse, 
and reposes herself in a wood, where she is 
surprised sleeping by Flordespina, who, de- 
ceived by the appearance of her hair, takes 
her for a man. This princess, who was engaged 
with her damsels in the chase, by a strata- 
gem detains Bradamant in the forest, where 
they pursue their sports in company. 

But, exclaims the poet, while I sing these 
lays of ladies and of loves, I see France arming 
against Italy, and the horizon bright with 
flames. Hereafter, if it shall be permitted me 

I will piece the tale which I leave unfinished. 


So ends the story of the Orlando Innamarato. 

" To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new."