'Tis thus, unrecompens'd, we can sustain
A length of service, while the hopes remain
That every year of loyal duty past
Shall find, though late, its full reward at last:
Remembrance still of once corroding cares,
Repulse, disdain, all that a lover bears
To rend his soul, gives joy a double zest,
When joy renews the sunshine of the breast.
But if that plague, from hell's dire mansion brought,
Infects with deadly bane the secret thought,
Thenceforth shall pleasure woo the sense in vain,
All pleasure then corrupted turns to pain.
Lo! this the fatal stroke, the venom'd wound,
For which no salve, no med'cine can be found.
Here nought avails---nor verse, nor sage's care,
Nor long observance of a kindly star:
Nor all th' experienc'd charms approv'd of yore
By Zoroaster skill'd in magic lore.
O jealousy! that every woe exceeds,
And soon to death the wretched sufferer leads:
Thou canst with cruel falsehood reason blind,
And burst the closest ties that hold mankind.
O jealousy in whose dire tempest tost,
Has hapless Bradamant each comfort lost!
I speak not here of thoughts that first depress'd
With tender doubts and fears, her virgin breast,
From what Hippalca and her brother said;
But heavier tidings to her ears convey'd
By later means; such tidings as in woe
Plung'd her more deep, which soon the Muse shall show.
Ver. 36. By Zoroaster skill'd in magic lore. Zoroaster, a king of the Bactrians, famous for his knowledge in the occult sciences.
But to Rinaldo now I turn the strain,
Who led to Paris' walls his hartial train.
Next day, at evening close, a knight they spy'd
Advancing near, a damsel at his side:
Black was his surcoat, black his mournful shield,
Save that a bend of argent cross the field.
He Richardetto challeng'd to the
Who by his aspect seem'd a chief of force;
And he, who paus'd not, when to combat dar'd,
Wheel'd round his steed, and for the tilt prepar'd.
No further parley held; with equal speed
These noble knights, to win the victor's meed,
Together rush'd: apart Rinaldo stood,
And, with his warlike friends, th' encounter view'd.
Firm let me guide the spear, and soon I trust
To stretch my rival headlong in the dust---
Thus to himself bold Richardetto thought,
But different far his adverse fortune wrought.
Full on his helm, beneath the vizor's sight
With such a fury drove the stranger-knight,
He bore him from the seat, with matchless strength,
Beyond his courser twice the lance's length.
T'avenge the fall Alardo turn'd his rein
With ready speed, but sudden on the plain
Senseless he fell: so cruel was the stroke,
Through plated shield the thundering weapon broke.
Full soon his spear in rest Guichardo held,
Who view'd his brethren prostrate on the field;
Though loud Rinaldo cry'd---Forbear the fight,
To me the third attempt belongs by right.
Ver 49. But to Rinaldo now---] He returns to Bradamant, Book 'xxxii. ver. 71.
Thus he but while he stood with helm unlac'd,
Guichardo eager, with preventive haste,
Th' encounter dar'd; nor better could maintain
IIis seat, but with his brethren press'd the plain.
With emulation next their force to prove,
Richardo, Vivian, Malagigi move:
But now prepar'd, Rinaldo first address'd
His ready weapons and their speed repress'd.
Time summons us (he cries) to Paris' walls;
And ill it seems, when such high duty calls,
To loiter here---nor will I wait (he said)
Till each of you by turns on earth is laid.
This to himself he spoke, which loud proclaim'd
Had touch'd his comrades, and their courage sham'd.
Each warrior now had measur'd on the field
The space to run, and each his courser wheel'd.
Rinaldo fell not, for his single hand
Compris'd the strength of all the knightly band:
Like brittle glass the spears in shivers broke;
Yet shrunk not back the warriors from the stroke
One foot, one inch---while with the sudden force
Driven on his crupper fell each warrior horse:
But swift Bayardo rose, as swift pursu'd
His interrupted course with speed renew'd:
Not so the adverse steed, that tumbling prone
His shoulder lux'd and broke his spinal bone.
The champion, who his slaughter'd courser view'd, 105
His stirrups left, and soon dismounted stood,
To Amon's gallant son (whom near he spy'd
With hand unarm'd in sign of truce) he cry'd.
Sir knight! the trusty steed that lifeless here
Lies by thy force, I held, while living, dear;
And knighthood sure must feel a deadly stain,
To let him thus without revenge be slain.
Come on--exert thy skill, thy utmost might,
For thou and I must prove a closer fight.
Rinaldo then---If for thy courser dead,
And this alone, thou to the strife art led,
Dismiss thy care---and one from me receive,
Equal to him whose death thou seem'st to grieve.
Ill dost thou judge (the stranger thus rejoin'd)
If for a courser's loss thou think'st my mind
So sore distress'd--hear what I now demand---
As fits a knight, with sword to sword in hand,
To prove thy further nerve--if thou as well
Canst wield thy weapon, or canst mine excel.
Then, as thou wilt, on foot, or from the steed
Pursue the fight, but let the fight succeed.
I ask but this--be each advantage thine,
So much I thirst to match thy arm with mine.
Thus he, nor in suspense Rinaldo stay’d---
The battle claim'd I here engage (he said)
And to remove thy doubts of this my train,
Let all depart and I alone remain.
One only page I here retain, to hold
My trusty steed--So spoke the baron bold,
And as he spoke, dismiss'd his noble band:
They part observant to their lord's command.
The courtesy by good Rinaldo shown,
Claim'd all the praises of the knight unknown.
The Paladin alighting, with the rein
Entrusts his page Bayardo to detain.
And when no more his standard he beheld,
Already now far distant on the field,
His buckler firm embracing, from his side
He drew the falchion, and the knight defy'd.
Thus was the fight begun, and ne'er between
Two noble chiefs was deadlier combat seen:
Fach little deem'd at first th' opponent's strength
Would draw the trial to such dangerous length.
By turns huge strokes they give, by turns receive;
And neither yet has cause t' exult or grieve.
With valour skill combines; and wide around
Loud echoes spread the batter'd armour's sound.
Piecemeal to earth their riven shields they send,
Lay bare the mail, and plates asunder rend.
Here less imports an arm to reach the foe,
Than well-taught art to ward each coming blow;
Where both so equal in the dangerous strife,
The first mistake might hazard fame and life.
Thus held the fight, till in his wavy bed
The sinking sun had veil'd his golden head,
And now from shore to shore's extremest bound,
Night's sable shade had veil'd th' horizon round.
No rest each warrior knows---no little cause
Can stay that sword which rival glory draws:
That sword which rancour nor revenge could raise 165
To mortal arms, but restless thirst of praise.
Meantime Rinaldo ponder'd in his thought
What unknown warrior so undaunted fought,
Who not alone withstood his fiercest might,
But oft his life endanger'd in the fight;
And now he gladly would the combat cease,
(Did fame permit) and join their hands in peace.
Not less the stranger-knight (who little knew
That he, who 'gainst him now his weapon drew
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