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LXXXIX
The chamber wench, made prisoner with his prize,
By the rapacious stripling, as I shewed,
Who being trusted with that ill emprize,
The poisoned draught of foul effect had brewed.
From the others she and those solemnites
Had kept away, suspecting what ensued:
Yea, this while, from that lordship had she fled,
Where she in safety hoped to hide her head.

XC
News being after to her foeman brought,
That she retired in Ostericche lay,
He, with intent to burn the woman, sought
To have her in his power by every way;
And finally unhappy Avarice, bought
By costly presents, and by proffered pay,
Wrought on a lord, assured upon whose lands
The beldam lived, to put her in his hands.

XCI
He on a sumpter horse the prisoner sent
To Constance-town, like merchandise addrest;
Fastened and bound in manner to prevent
The use of speech, and prisoned in a chest.
From whence that rabble, his ill instrument,
Who has all pity banished from his breast,
Had hither brought her, that his impious rage
That cruel man might on the hag assuage.

XCII
As the flood, swoln with Vesulo's thick snows,
The farther that it foams upon its way,
And, with Ticino and Lambra, seaward goes,
Ada, and other streams that tribute pay,
So much more haughty and impetuous flows;
Rogero so, the more he hears display
Marganor's guilt, and so that gentle pair
Of damsels filled with fiercer choler are.

XCIII
Them with such hatred, them with such disdain
Against the wretch so many crimes incense,
That they will punish him, despite the train
Or armed men arraid in his defence:
But speedy death appears too kind a pain,
And insufficient for such foul offence.
Better they deem, mid pangs prolonged and slow,
He all the bitterness of death should know.

XCIV
But first 'tis right that woman to unchain,
She whom the hangman-crew to death escort;
And the quick rowel and the loosened rein
Made the quick coursers make that labour short.
Never had those assaulted to sustain
Encounter of so fell and fierce a sort;
Who held it for a grace, with loss of shield,
Harness and captive dame, to quit the field;

XCV
Even as the wolf, who, laden with his prey,
Is homeward to his secret cavern bound,
And, when he deems that safest is the way,
Beholds it crost by hunter and by hound,
Flings down his load, and swiftly darts away,
Where most o'ergrown with brushwood is the ground.
Nor quicker are that band to void the vale,
Than those bold three are quicker to assail.

XCVI
Not only they the dame and martial gear,
But many horses they as well forsook;
And, as the surest refuge in their fear,
Cast themselves down from bank and caverned nook:
Which pleased the damsels and the youthful peer;
Who three of those forsaken horses took,
To mount those three, whom, through the day before,
Upon their croups the three good coursers bore.

XCVII
Thence, lightened thus, their way they thither bend,
Where that despiteous, shameful, lordship lies;
Resolved the beldam in their band shall wend,
To see Drusilla venged; in vain denies
That woman, who misdoubts the adventure's end,
And grieves, and shrieks, and weeps in piteous wise:
For flinging her upon Frontino's croup,
Rogero bears her off amid the troop.

XCVIII
They reached a summit, and from thence espied
A town with many houses, large and rich;
With nought to stop the way on any side,
As neither compassed round by wall or ditch.
A rock was in the middle, fortified
With a tall tower, upon its topmost pitch.
Fearlessly thither pricked the warriors, who
Marganor's mansion in that fortress knew.

XCIX
As soon as in the town that cavalcade
Arrived, some footmen, who kept watch and ward,
Behind those warriors closed a barricade;
While that, before, they found already barred.
And lo! Sir Marganor, with men arraid,
Some foot, some horsemen! armed was all the guard;
Who to the strangers, in few words, but bold,
The wicked custom of his lordship told.

C
Marphisa, who had planned the thing whilere
With Aymon's daughter and the youthful knight,
For answer, spurred against the cavalier;
And, valiant as she was and full of might,
Not putting in the rest her puissant spear,
Or baring that good sword, so famed in fight,
So smote him with her fist upon the head,
That on his horse's neck he fell half dead.

CI
The maid of France is with Marphisa gone,
Nor in the rear it seen Rogero's crest;
Who with those two his course so bravely run,
That, though his lance he raised not from the rest,
Six men he slew; transfixed the paunch of one,
Another's head, of four the neck or breast;
I' the sixth he broke it, whom in flight he speared:
It pierced his spine and at his paps appeared.

CII
As many as are touched, so many lie
On earth, by Bradamant's gold lance o'erthrown;
She seems a bolt, dismist form burning sky,
Which, in its fury, shivers and beats down
Whatever it encounters, far and nigh.
Some fly to plain, or castle from the town,
Others to sheltering church and house repair;
And none, save dead, are seen in street or square.

CIII
Meanwhile the hands of Marganor, behind
His back, the fierce Marphisa had made fast,
And to Drusilla's maid the wretch consigned,
Well pleased that such a care on her was cast.
To burn the town 'twas afterwards designed,
Save it repented of its errors past,
Repealed the statute Marganor had made,
And a new law, imposed by her, obeyed.

CIV
Such end to compass is no hard assay;
For, besides fearing lest Marphisa yearn
To execute more vengeance, -- lest she say,
-- She one and all will slaughter and will burn, --
The townsmen all were advised to the sway
And cruel statute of that tyrant stern;
But did, as others mostly do, that best
Obey the master whom they most detest.

CV
Since none dares trust another, nor his will,
-- Out of suspicion -- to his comrades break,
They let him banish one, another kill,
From this his substance, that his honour take.
But the heart cries to Heaven, that here is still,
Till God and saints at length to vengeance wake:
Who, albeit they due punishment suspend,
By mighty pain the long delay amend.

CVI
The rabble, full of rage and enmity,
Now seeks the wretch with word and deed to grieve;
As, it is said, all strip the fallen tree,
Which from its roots and wintry winds upheave:
Let rulers in his sad example see,
Ill doers in the end shall ill receive.
To view fell Marganor's disastrous fall,
Fit penance for his sins, pleased great and small.