No More Learning

LXIV
Whenas Rinaldo, sated with the draught,
Raising his head the stranger knight espied,
And saw that he, repentant, every thought
Of that so frantic love had put aside,
He reared himself, and said with semblance haught
That which he would not say before, and cried:
"Rinaldo, know that I am hight Disdain,
Bound hither but to break thy worthless chain. "

LXV
So saying, suddenly he passed from sight;
With him his horse: this in Rinaldo bred
Much wonderment; and the astonished knight,
"Where is he? " gazing round about him, said.
He cannot guess if 'twere a magic sprite,
A fiend by Malagigi thither sped,
From those his ministers, to break the chain,
Fettered whereby he lived so long in pain;

LXVI
Of if an angel from the heavenly sphere
In his ineffable goodness by the Lord,
Dispatched, as to Tobias's aid whilere,
A medicine for his blindness to afford.
But good or evil angel -- whatsoe'er
He was that him to liberty restored --
Him thanked and praised Rinaldo, for a heart
Healed only by his help of amorous smart.

LXVII
Old hate revived upon Rinaldo's side;
Nor he alone unworthy to be wooed,
The damsel deemed by pilgrimage so wide
Her half a league he would not have pursued.
Nathless anew Baiardo to bestride
To Sericane would go that warrior good:
As well because his honour him compelled,
As for the talk which he with Charles had held.

LXVIII
He pricked to Basle upon the following day,
Whither the tidings had arrived before:
That Count Orlando was, in martial fray,
To meet Gradasso and the royal Moor:
Nor through Orlando was divulged that say:
But one, who crost from the Sicilian shore,
And thither had, in haste, the journey made,
As certain news, the tidings had conveyed.

LXIX
Rinaldo had gladly been at Roland's side,
And from that battle far himself doth see:
Every ten miles he changes horse and guide,
And whips and spurs, and makes his courser flee.
He crost the Rhine at Constance, forward hied,
He traversed Alp, arrived in Italy,
He left Verona, Mantua, in his rear,
And reached and past the Po, with swift career.

LXX
Much towards eve already sloped the sun,
And the first star was glimmering in the sky,
When, doubting on the bank if he shall run
Another course, or in some hostel lie
Until the shades of night and vapours dun
Before Aurora's beauteous visage fly,
A cavalier approaching him he viewed,
Who courtesy in face and semblance shewed.

LXXI
He, after greeting him, if he were tied
In wedlock, made in gentle wise demand.
Rinaldo, wondering what the quest implied,
Made answer: "I am bound in nuptial band. "
-- "I joy thereat," the cavalier replied;
Then, that he might this saying understand,
Added, "I pray that you, sir knight, within
My mansion will this eve be pleased to inn.

LXXII
"For I will make you see what must please
A wight" (pursued the stranger) "that is wed.
"
Rinaldo, as well that he would take his ease,
-- But this, with so long posting sore bested --
As that to see and hear strange novelties
By natural desire he still was led,
His offer takes, and enters a new road,
Following that cavalier to his abode.

LXXIII
A bowshot from the way diverged the two,
And a great palace fronting them descried:
Whence squires with blazing lights (a numerous crew)
Issued, and chased the darkness far and wide.
Entering, his eyes around Rinaldo threw,
And saw a place, whose like is seldom spied,
Of beauteous fabric, and well ordered plan;
Nor such huge cost befitted private man.

LXXIV
Of serpentine and of hard porphyry are
The stones which form the gateway's arch above.
Of bronze the portal leaves, which figures bear,
Whose lively features seem to breathe and move.
Beneath the vaulted entry, colours rare
Cheating the eye, in mixt mosaic strove,
The quadrangle within was galleried,
And of a hundred yards, on every side.

LXXV
A gateway is there to each galleried row,
And, twixt it and that gate, an arch is bent;
Of equal breadth, but different in their show,
For the architect had spared not ornament.
Each arch an entrance was; up which might go
A laden horse; so easy the ascent.
To arch above leads every stair withal,
And every arch is entrance to a hall.

LXXVI
Above, project the arches in such sort,
They for the spacious portals form a shade;
And each two pillars has for its support:
Of bronze are some, and some of marble made.
The ornamented chambers of the court
Too many are to be at length displayed;
With easements, which (beside what is in sight)
The skilful master underground had dight.

LXXVII
Tall columns, with their capitals of gold,
Which gemmed entablatures support in air;
Exotic marbles engraved with figures fair;
Picture and cast, and works so manifold,
Albeit by night they mostly hidden were,
Showed that two kings' united treasure ne'er
Would have sufficed such gorgeous pile to rear.

LXXVIII
Above the beauteous ornaments and rich
That mingled in that gay quadrangle meet,
There is a fresh and plenteous fountain, which
Scatters in many threads its watery sheet,
'Tis here that youths at equal distance pitch,
I' the middle, tables for the festive treat.
Whence they four gates of that rich mansion see,
And seen from those four gates as well may be.

LXXIX
By cunning master, diligent and wise,
With much and subtle toil, the fount was made:
In open gallery or pavilion's guise;
Which from eight separate fronts, projects a shade.
A gilded roof, which with enamelled dyes
Was stained below, the building overlayed.