When now the Sun from high his beams had shed,

The Paladin commands the board to spread,

For which the Mantuan's hospitable care

1071

Supply'd exhaustless store of costly fare.
Now to the left they leave a fertile land,
Vast fens extending on their better hand:
Argenta now appears, and now it flies;
And now the castle where Santerno lies.
As yet beside the stream no Bastia stands,

1075

Where since, with little boast, the Spanish bands
Their standards bring; but where the Italian train 1080
Attempt, with greater loss, the fort to gain.

Thence, with full speed, the sinewy rowers force
The flying bark along the river's course :
Till by a stagnant pool they bend their way,
And reach Ravenna's towers at noon of day.
Though good Rinaldo oft was little stor'd
With ready coin, at least he can afford

So much at parting thence his thanks to show,
And on the crew some light reward bestow.

1085

Then, changing steeds, his journey he pursu'd, 1090 And Rimeni, at close of evening, view'd;

Nor would at Montefior till morning wait,

But reach'd, with rising Sol, Urbino's gate.

Ver. 1076. Argenta now---] Argenta, a castle eighteen miles from Ferrara.

Ver. 1079. Where since, with little boast, &c.] Bastia, where the Spaniards suffered such a defeat from Alphonso. See Book xlii. Note to ver. i. &c.

No Guido then, no Frederico there

Resided; no Elisabetta fair;

.1095

Nor Leonora, nor Francesco nam'd

In later times; for these a knight so fam'd
With courteous welcome had awhile constrain'd
To rest with honour in their seats detain'd;
Such courteous welcome as they since have paid
To every noble knight or virtuous maid.

Since none appear'd his courser's reins to take,
Rinaldo hasten'd Cagli to forsake;
And to the mountain thence impatient sped,
Their streams where Gauno and Metaurus led.
The Apennine he past; and now no more
Beheld it on the right; then journey'd o'er
The Ombrian and Etruscan realms; then view'd
Imperial Rome; to Ostia then pursu'd

His rapid way; and next by sea he gains.
An ancient town, where near in hallow'd plains,
Anchises' pious son interr'd his sire's remains.

Ver. 1094. Guido, Frederico--

1100

1105

1110

Elisabetta, Leonora ... ] Frederico di Montefeltro, a man beloved by all for his many virtues; of him and his wife Baptista was born a son, called Guidobaldo (or Guido) heir to his father's virtues. After his death Francesco Maria delle Revere was created duke of Urbino, and married Leonora, daughter of Gonzaga. Elisabetta was wife of Guidobaldo. All these persons appear to have lived in the time of Ariosto, and to have resided at Ferrara.

Ver 1102.

his courser's reins to take, ] To stop him with a friendly welcome, to entertain him hospitably.

Ver. 1103. Cagli-] Cagli was long in possession of the dukes of Urbino.

-] Gauno, a small river, that

Ver. 1105. Gauno and Metaurus has now probably lost its name. Metaurus, a river famous for the death of Asdrubal.

His vessel here he chang'd, and to the shore
Of Lipadusa's isle his voyage bore;

That isle the champions for their list design'd,
That isle, where since the six in battle join'd.
Rinaldo urg'd the jolly sailor train,
With oars and sails, to cleave the briny main.
At speed they fly; but adverse winds detain'd
His tardy vessel from the wish'd-for land.

He came, but came what time Anglante's knight
Had reap'd the laurels of the glorious fight;
King Agramant and king Gradasso kill'd:
Yet hard the conquest of the sanguine field;
Great Monodante's son was now no more;
And pale in anguish on the sea-beat shore
Lay Olivero, feeble with his pain,
Whose foot no longer would his bulk sustain.
The noble earl could not his tears with-hold,
When good Rinaldo he embrac'd, and told
The death of Brandimart, their friend belov'd,
In every chance of arms and friendship prov'd.
Not less Rinaldo, when the knight he view'd
With helmet cleft, his mournful cheeks bedew'd.
Then Olivero in his arms he press'd,

And with consoling words each chief address'd,
While much himself repin'd, that late he came,
Too late to share their dangers and their fame.

Now to the town destroy'd the menial train

Of Agramant and stern Gradasso slain,

1115

1120

1125

1130

1135

1140

Each breathless corse with duteous care convey'd,
And in the ruins of Biserta laid.

Meanwhile the conquest by Orlando won, To Sansonetto and Astolpho known,

Great joy in each infus'd, though damp'd to hear
The mournful end of one they held so dear:
The death of Brandimart each heart depress'd,
Each face the signs of deep-felt grief confess'd.

1145

Ah! which of these who lov'd his friend so well,

To Flordelis the killing news shall tell?

1150

As Flordelis at night in slumber lay,

The night preceding that unhappy day,

She dreamt the mantle which her pious care
Had fashion'd for her Brandimart to wear,

1155

His ornament in fight, now, strange to view,
Was sprinkled o'er with drops of sanguine hue:
She thought her erring hand the vest had stain'd,
And thus in slumber to herself complain'd.
"Did not my lord command these hands to inake
"His vests, his mantle, all of mournful black?
"Why have I then against his bidding spread

The sable ground with fearful spots of red ?"

Ill omens thence she drew--Th' ensuing night
Arriv'd the tidings of the glorious fight;
Astolpho yet conceal'd, with tender fear,
A truth too dreadful for a wife to hear:
Till now,
with Sansonetto join'd, he came
(A mournful pair) before the boding dame.
Soon as she view'd the face of either chief,
In such a conquest clouded o'er with grief,
No more was needful---her distracted thought
Too well-divin'd the fatal news they brought:
Chill grew her heart, and sickening at the light,
Her closing eyes were cover'd o'er with night:
Senseless and pallid, stretch'd on earth she lay,
And look'd a wretched corse of lifeless clay.

1160

1165

1170

1175

Her sense returning, frantic with despair,

1180

She call'd her much-lov'd lord---she rent her hair--
She bruis'd with cruel hands her groaning breast,
She rav'd as if some fiend her soul possess'd.
So seem'd the Menades, when wide were borne
Their shouts and clamours with the maddening horn.
From this, from that, she begg'd some sword or dart,
Some weapon's point to pierce her to the heart.
Now would she seek the ship that to the shore

1185

The corse of either Pagan monarch bore,

On their remains with momentary rage

To glut her vengeance and her grief assuage:

Now would she pass the seas, to seek where dy'd
Her better half, and perish by his side.

1190

Why did I leave thee, O! my Brandimart!
On such a day without me to depart!
I saw thee go---I fainted at the view---
Why did not Flordelis her lord pursue?
Had I been present in the hour of fight,

1195

My eyes had watch'd thee with a lover's sight;

Ver. 181. So seem'd the Menades] The Menades were certain dames, or priestesses, who celebrated by night the rites of Bacchus, with hair dishevelled, with wild and frantic gestures, bearing in their hands spears twisted with ivy leaves, and horns which they sounded from time to time, in honour of their God.

Ver. 1191. Why did I leave thee, O! my Brandimart!] Nothing can be more pathetic than the passages that relate to the death of Brandimart: the complaint of Flordelis, the affecting and natural circumstances of her dream the night before she hears the news; the funeral obsequies performed by night in the island of Sicily, where the mention of Ætna gives a further solemnity to the scene; the behaviour of Orlando upon the occasion; and lastly, the death of Flordelis, are all circumstances finely imagined, and most poetically painted!