No More Learning

With helm on head, and with his faulchion good
Begirt, he lay reclined in plate and chain.
A pillow of his buckler had he made,
Where the white unicorn was seen pourtraid.

XXVII
There thinking what an injury he had done
To his lady love -- how ingrate, how untrue
To her had been -- not simple grief alone
O'erwhelmed him, to such height his fury grew,
He bit his hands and lips; while pouring down
His cheeks, the tears unceasing ran, and through
The passion that so wrapt his troubled sprite,
Nor Leo nor Melissa heard the knight.

XXVIII
Nor therefore interrupts he his lament,
Nor checks his sighs, nor checks his trickling tears.
Young Leo halts, to hear his speech intent;
Lights from his courser, and towards him steers:
He knows that of the sorrows which torment
Love is the cause; but yet from nought appears
Who is the person that such grief hath bred;
For by Rogero this remains unsaid.

XXIX
Approaching nearer and yet nearer, now
He fronts the weeping warrior, face to face,
Greets with a brother's love, and stooping low,
His neck encircles with a fast embrace.
By the lamenting Child I know not how
Is liked his sudden presence in that place;
Who fears annoy or trouble at his hand;
And lest he should his wish for death withstand.

XXX
Him with the sweetest words young Leo plied,
And with the warmest love that he could show,
"Let it not irk thee," to the Child he cried,
"To tell the cause from whence thy sorrows flow;
For few such desperate evils man betide,
But that there is deliverance from his woe,
So that the cause be known; nor he bereft
Of hope should ever be, so life be left.

XXXI
"Much grieve I thou wouldst hide thyself from me,
That known me for thy faithful friend and true;
Not only now I am so bound to thee,
That I the knot can never more undo;
But even from the beginning, when to be
Thy deadly foeman I had reason due.
Hope then that I will succour thee with pelf,
With friends, with following, and with life itself.

XXXII
"Nor shun to me thy sorrow to explain,
And I beseech thee leave to me to try
If wealth avail to free thee from thy pain,
Art, cunning, open force, or flattery,
If my assistance is employed in vain,
The last relief remains to thee to die:
But be content awhile this deed to shun
Till all that thou canst do shall first be done. "

XXXIII
He said; and with such forceful prayer appealed;
So gently and benignly soothed his moan;
That good Rogero could not choose but yield,
Whose heart was not of iron or of stone;
Who deemed, unless he now his lips unsealed,
He should a foul discourteous deed have done.
He fain would have replied, but made assay
Yet twice or thrice, ere words could find their way.

XXXIV
"My lord, when known for what I am (and me
Now shalt thou know)," he made at last reply,
"I wot thou, like myself, content wilt be,
And haply more content, that I should die.
Know me for him so hated once by thee;
Rogero who repaid that hate am I;
And now 'tis many days since with intent
Of putting thee to death from court I went.
XXXV
"Because I would not see my promised bride
Borne off by thee; in that Duke Aymon's love
And favour was engaged upon thy side.
But, for man purposes, and God above
Disposes, thy great courtesy, well tried
In a sore need, my fixt resolve did move.
Nor only I renounced the hate I bore,
But purposed to be thine for evermore.

XXXVI
"What time I as Rogero was unknown,
Thou madest suit I would obtain for thee
The Lady Bradamant; which was all one
As to demand my heart and soul from me.
Whether thy wish I rather than mine own
Sought to content, thou hast been made to see.
Thine is the lady; her in peace possess;
Far more than mine I prize thy happiness.

XXXVII
"Content thee, that deprived of her, as well
I should myself of worthless life deprive;
For better I without a soul could dwell
Than without Bradamant remain alive.
And never while these veins with life-blood swell
Canst thou with her legitimately wive:
For vows erewhile have been between us said;
Nor she at once can with two husbands wed. "

XXXVIII
So filled is gentle Leo with amaze
When he the stranger for Rogero knows,
With lips and brow unmoved, with stedfast gaze
And rooted feet, he like a statue shows;
Like statue more than man, which votaries raise
In churches, for acquittance of their vows.
He deems that courtesy of so high a strain
Was never done nor will be done again;

XXXIX
And that he him doth for Rogero know
Not only that goodwill he bore whilere
Abates not, but augments his kindness so,
That no less grieves the Grecian cavalier
Than good Rogero for Rogero's woe.
For this, as well as that he will appear
Deservedly an emperor's son -- although
In other things outdone -- he will not be
Defeated in the race of courtesy;

XL
And says, "That day my host was overthrown,
Rogero, by thy wond'rous valour, though
I had thee at despite, if I had known
Thou was Rogero, as I know it now,
So me thy virtue would have made thine own,
As then it made me, knowing not my foe;
So hatred from my bosom would have chased,
And with my present love have straight replaced.

XLI
"That I Rogero hated, ere I knew
Thou was Rogero, will I not deny.
But think not that I further would pursue
The hatred that I bore thee; and had I,
When thee I from thy darksome dungeon drew,
Descried the truth, as this I now descry,
Such treatment shouldst thou then have had, as thou
Shalt have from me, to thine advantage, now;

XLII
"And if I willingly had done so then,
When not, as I am now, obliged to thee;
How much more gladly should I now; and when,
Not doing so, I should with reason be
Deemed most ungrateful amid ingrate men;
Since thou foregoest thine every good for me!
But I to thee restore thy gift, and, more
Glady than I received it, this restore.

XLIII
"The damsel more to thee than me is due;
And though for her deserts I hold her dear,
If that fair prize some happier mortal drew,
I think not I my vital thread should shear:
Nor would I by thy death be free to woo:
That from the hallowed bands of wedlock clear
Wherein the lady hath to thee been tied,
I might possess her as my lawful bride.

XLIV
"Not only Bradamant would I forego,
But whatsoe'er I in the world possess;
And rather forfeit life than ever know
That grief, through me, should such a knight oppress.