No empty fiction wrought by magic lore,
But natural was the steed the wizard pressed:
For him a filly to a griffin bore ;
Hight hippogryph. In wings and beak and crest,
Formed like his sire, as in the feet before;
But like the mare, his dam, in all the rest.
Such on Riphæan hills, though rarely found,
Are bred, beyond the frozen ocean's bound.
XIX.
Drawn by enchantment from his distant lair,
The wizard thought but how to tame the foal;
And, in a month, instructed him to bear
Saddle and bit, and gallop to the goal;
And execute on earth or in mid air,
All shifts of manege, course and caracole;
He with such labour wrought. This only real,
Where all the rest was hollow and ideal.
This ringss
This truth by him with fictions was combined,
Whose sleight passed red for yellow, black for white :
But all his vain enchantments could not blind
The maid, whose virtuous ring assured her sight:
Yet she her blows discharges at the wind;
And spurring here and there prolongs the fight.
So drove or wheeled her steed, and smote at nought,
And practised all she had before been taught.
When she sometime had fought upon her horse,
She from the courser on her feet descends:
To compass and more freely put in force,
As by the enchantress schooled, her wily ends.
The wizard, to display his last resource,
Unweeting the defence, towards her wends.
He bares the shield, secure to blind his foe,
And by the magic light, astonished, throw.
XXII.
The shield might have been shown at first, nor he
Needed to keep the cavaliers at bay;
But that he loved some master-stroke to see,
Achieved by lance or sword in single fray.
As with the captive mouse, in sportive glee,
The wily cat is sometimes seen to play;
Till waxing wroth, or weary of her prize,
She bites, and at a snap the prisoner dies.
To cat and mouse, in battles fought before,
I liken the magician and his foes;
But the comparison holds good no more:
For, with the ring, the maid against him goes;
Firm and attentive still, and watching sore,
Lest upon her the wizard should impose:
And as she sees him bare the wondrous shield,
Closes her eyes and falls upon the field.
XXIV.
Not that the shining metal could offend,
As wont those others, from its cover freed;
But so the damsel did, to make descend
The vain enchanter from his wonderous steed.
Nor was in ought defeated of her end;
For she no sooner on the grassy mead
Had laid her head, than wheeling widely round,
The flying courser pitched upon the ground.
XXV.
Already cased again, the shield was hung,
By the magician, at his saddle bow.
He lights and seeks her, who like wolf among
The bushes, couched in thicket, waits the roe
She without more delay from ambush sprung,
As he drew near, and grappled fast the foe.
That wretched man, the volume by whose aid
He all his battles fought, on earth had laid:
XXVI.
And ran to bind her with a chain, which he,
Girt round about him for such purpose, wore;
Because he deemed she was no less to be
Mastered and bound than those subdued before
Him hath the dame already flung; by me
Excused with reason, if he strove not more.
For fearful were the odds between that bold
And puissant maid, and warrior weak and old!
XXVII.
Intending to behead the fallen foe,
She lifts her conquering hand; but in mid space, When she beholds his visage, stops the blow,
As if disdaining a revenge so base.
She sees in him, her prowess has laid low,
A venerable sire, with sorrowing face;
Whose hair and wrinkles speak him, to her guess, Of years six score and ten, or little less.
"Kill me, for love of God!" (afflicted sore,
The old enchanter full of wrath did cry)
But the victorious damsel was not more
Averse to kill, than he was bent to die.
To know who was the necromancer hoar
The gentle lady had desire, and why
The tower he in that savage place designed,
Doing such outrage foul to all mankind.
"Nor I, by malice moved, alas! poor wight,"
(The weeping necromancer answer made,)
"Built the fair castle on the rocky height,
"Nor yet for rapine ply the robber's trade;
"But only to redeem a gentle knight
From danger sore and death, by love was swayed;
Who, as the skies foreshow, in little season,
Is doomed to die a christian, and by treason.
"The sun beholds not 'twixt the poles, a Child
"So excellent as him, and passing fair;
"Who from his infancy, Rogero styled,
(Atlantes I) was tutored by my care.
By love of fame and evil stars beguiled,
"He follows into France Troyano's heir.*
Him, in my eyes, than son esteemed more dear, "I seek to snatch from France and peril near.
"I only built the beauteous keep to be
Rogero's dungeon, safely harboured there; "Who whilom was subdued in fight by me,
"As I to-day had hoped thyself to snare,
“And dames and knights, and more of high degree,
Have to this tower conveyed, his lot to share,
“That with such partners of his prison pent,
"He might the loss of freedom less lament.
"Save they should seek to break their dungeon's bound,
I grant my inmates every other pleasure.
"For whatsoever in the world is found,
"Search its four quarters, in this keep I treasure ; "(Whatever heart can wish or tongue can sound)
“Cates, brave attire, game, sport, or mirthful measure. My field well sown, I well had reaped my grain, "But that thy coming makes my labour vain.
"Ah! then unless thy heart less beauteous be
"Than thy sweet face, mar not my pious care;
"Take my steel buckler, this I give to thee,
"And take that horse, which flies so fast in air,
"Nor meddle with my castle more; or free
"One or two captive friends, the rest forbear-
"Or (for I crave but this) release them all,
"So that Rogero but remain my thrall.
"Or if disposed to take him from my sight, Before the youth be into France conveyed, "Be pleased to free my miserable sprite
"From its now rotted bark, long since decayed."
Prate as thou wilt, I shall restore the knight
"To liberty," replied the martial maid,
"Nor offer shield and courser to resign,
"Which are not in thy gift,—already mine.
XXXV.
“Nor were they thine to take or to bestow, "Would it appear that such exchange were wise; "Thou sayest to save him from what stars foreshow, "And cheat an evil influence of the skies
Rogero is confined. Thou canst not know,
"Or knowing, canst not change his destinies :
"For, if unknown an ill so near to thee,
"Far less mayest thou another's fate foresee.
XXXVI.
"Seek not thy death from me; for the petition
"Is made in vain; but if for death thou sigh,
Though the whole world refused the requisition, "A soul resolved would find the means to die. "But ope thy gates to give thy guests dismission "Before thine hand the knot of life untie."
So spake the scornful dame with angry mock,
Speeding her captive still towards the rock.
XXXVII.
Bound by the conqueror with the chain he bore,
Atlantes walked, the damsel following nigh,
Who trusted not to the magician hoar,
Although he seemed subdued in port and eye.
Nor many paces went the pair, before
They at the mountain's foot the cleft espy,
With steps by which the rugged hill to round;
And climb, till to the castle-gate they wound:
g. Labelle dame sans merei,
Atlantes from the threshold, graved by skill,
With characters and wondrous signs, upturned
A virtuous stone, where, underneath the sill,
Pots, with perpetual fire and secret, burned.
The enchanter breaks them; and at once the hill
To an inhospitable rock is turned.
Nor wall nor tower on any side is seen,
As if no castle there had ever been.
Then from the lady's toils the wizard clears3
His limbs, as thrush escapes the fowler's snare;
With him as well his castle disappears,
And leaves the prisoned troop in open air;
From their gay lodgings, dames and cavaliers,
Unhoused upon that desert, bleak and bare.
And many at the freedom felt annoy,
Which dispossessed them of such life of joy.
There is Gradasso, there is Sacripant,
There is Prasildo, noble cavalier,
Who with Rinaldo came from the Levant;
Iroldo, too, Prasildo's friend sincere.
And there, at last, the lovely Bradamant
Discerns Rogero, long desired and dear;
Who, when assured it was that lady, flew
With joyful cheer to greet the damsel true;
XLI.
As her he prized before his eyes, his heart,
His life; from that day cherished when she stood
Uncasqued for him, and from the fight apart;
And hence an arrow drank her virgin blood,
'Twere long to tell who launched the cruel dart,
And how the lovers wandered in the wood:
Now guided by the sun, and now benighted,
Here first since that encounter reunited.
Now that the stripling sees her here, and knows
Alone she freed him from the wizard's nest,
He deems, his bosom with such joy overflows,
That he is singly fortunate and blest.
Thither, where late the damsel conquered, goes
The band, descending from the mountain's crest;
And finds the hippogryph, who bore the shield,
But in its case of crimson silk concealed.
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