Orlando Furioso | Page 5

foeman's might.
XVII?Thus, as they are, on foot the warriors vie?In cruel strife, and blade to blade oppose;?No marvel plate or brittle mail should fly,?When anvils had not stood the deafening blows.?It now behoves the palfrey swift to ply?His feet; for while the knights in combat close,?Him vexed to utmost speed, with goading spurs,?By waste or wood the frighted damsel stirs.
XVIII?After the two had struggled long to throw?Each other in the strife, and vainly still;?Since neither valiant warrior was below?His opposite in force and knightly skill:?The first to parley with his Spanish foe?Was the good master of Albano's hill?(As one within whose raging breast was pent?A reckless fire which struggled for a vent).
XIX?"Thou think'st," he said, "to injure me alone,?But know thou wilt thyself as much molest:?For if we fight because yon rising sun?This raging heat has kindled in thy breast.?What were thy gain, and what the guerdon won,?Though I should yield my life, or stoop my crest;?If she shall never be thy glorious meed,?Who flies, while vainly we in battle bleed?
XX?"Then how much better, since our stake's the same,?Thou, loving like myself, should'st mount and stay?To wait this battle's end, the lovely dame,?Before she fly yet further on her way.?The lady taken, we repeat our claim?With naked faulchion to that peerless prey:?Else by long toil I see not what we gain?But simple loss and unrequited pain."
XXI?The peer's proposal pleased the paynim well.?And so their hot contention was foregone;?And such fair truce replaced that discord fell,?So mutual wrongs forgot and mischief done;?That for departure seated in his sell,?On foot the Spaniard left not Aymon's son;?But him to mount his courser's crupper prayed;?And both united chased the royal maid.
XXII?Oh! goodly truth in cavaliers of old!?Rivals they were, to different faith were bred.?Not yet the weary warriors' wounds were cold --?Still smarting from those strokes so fell and dread.?Yet they together ride by waste and wold,?And, unsuspecting, devious dingle thread.?Them, while four spurs infest his foaming sides,?Their courser brings to where the way divides.
XXIII?And now the warlike pair at fault, for they?Knew not by which she might her palfrey goad,?(Since both, without distinction, there survey?The recent print of hoofs on either road),?Commit the chase to fortune. By this way?The paynim pricked, by that Rinaldo strode.?But fierce Ferrau, bewildered in the wood,?Found himself once again where late he stood.
XXIV?Beside the water, where he stoop'd to drink,?And dropt the knightly helmet, -- to his cost,?Sunk in the stream; and since he could not think?Her to retrieve, who late his hopes had crossed.?He, where the treasure fell, descends the brink?Of that swift stream, and seeks the morion lost.?But the casque lies so bedded in the sands,?'Twill ask no light endeavour at his hands.
XXV?A bough he severs from a neighbouring tree,?And shreds and shapes the branch into a pole:?With this he sounds the stream, and anxiously?Fathoms, and rakes, and ransacks shelf and hole.?While angered sore at heart, and restless, he?So lingered, where the troubled waters roll,?Breast-high, from the mid river rose upright,?The apparition of an angry knight.
XXVI?Armed at all points he was, except his head,?And in his better hand a helmet bore:?The very casque, which in the river's bed?Ferrau sought vainly, toiling long and sore.?Upon the Spanish knight he frowned, and said:?"Thou traitor to thy word, thou perjured Moor,?Why grieve the goodly helmet to resign,?Which, due to me long since, is justly mine?
XXVII?"Remember, pagan, when thine arm laid low?The brother of Angelica. That knight?Am I; -- thy word was plighted then to throw?After my other arms his helmet bright.?If Fortune now compel thee to forego?The prize, and do my will in thy despite,?Grieve not at this, but rather grieve that thou?Art found a perjured traitor to thy vow.
XXVIII?"But if thou seek'st a helmet, be thy task?To win and wear it more to thy renown.?A noble prize were good Orlando's casque;?Rinaldo's such, or yet a fairer crown;?Almontes', or Mambrino's iron masque:?Make one of these, by force of arms, thine own.?And this good helm will fitly be bestowed?Where (such thy promise) it has long been owed."
XXIX?Bristled the paynim's every hair at view?Of that grim shade, uprising from the tide,?And vanished was his fresh and healthful hue,?While on his lips the half-formed accents died.?Next hearing Argalia, whom he slew,?(So was the warrior hight) that stream beside,?Thus his unknightly breach of promise blame,?He burned all over, flushed with rage and shame.
XXX?Nor having time his falsehood to excuse,?And knowing well how true the phantom's lore,?Stood speechless; such remorse the words infuse.?Then by Lanfusa's life the warrior swore,?Never in fight, or foray would he use?Helmet but that which good Orlando bore?From Aspramont, where bold Almontes paid?His life a forfeit to the Christian blade.
XXXI?And this new vow discharged more faithfully?Than the vain promise which was whilom plight;?And from the stream departing heavily,?Was many days sore vexed and grieved in sprite;?And still intent to seek