No More Learning

LXXX
Didst thou, O miserable damsel, trow
Whom thou wouldst kill, if in that cavalier
Matched against thee thou didst Rogero know,
On whom depend thy very life-threads, ere
Thou killed him thou wouldst kill thyself; for thou,
I know, dost hold him than thyself more dear;
And when he for Rogero shall be known,
I know these very strokes thou wilt bemoan.

LXXXI
King Charles and peers him sheathed in plate and shell
Deem not Rogero, but the emperor's son;
And viewing in that combat fierce and fell
Such force and quickness by the stripling shown;
And, without e'er offending her, how well
That knight defends himself, now change their tone;
Esteem both well assorted; and declare
The champions worthy of each other are.

LXXXII
When Phoebus wholly under water goes,
Charlemagne bids the warring pair divide;
And Bradamant (nor boots it to oppose)
Allots to youthful Leo as a bride.
Not there Rogero tarried to repose;
Nor loosed his armour, nor his helm untied:
On a small hackney, hurrying sore, he went
Where Leo him awaited in his tent.

LXXXIII
Twice in fraternal guise and oftener threw
Leo his arms about the cavalier;
And next his helmet from his head withdrew,
And kiss'd him on both cheeks with loving cheer.
"I would," he cried, "that thou wouldst ever do
By me what pleaseth thee; for thou wilt ne'er
Weary my love: at any call I lend
To thee myself and state; these friendly spend;

LXXXIV
"Nor see I recompense, which can repay
The mighty obligation that I owe;
Though of the garland I should disarray
My brows, and upon thee that gift bestow. "
Rogero, on whom his sorrows press and prey,
Who loathes his life, immersed in that deep woe,
Little replies; the ensigns he had worn
Returns, and takes again his unicorn;

LXXXV
And showing himself spiritless and spent,
From thence as quickly as he could withdrew,
And from young Leo's to his lodgings went;
When it was midnight, armed himself anew,
Saddled his horse, and sallied from his tent;
(He takes no leave, and none his going view;)
And his Frontino to that road addrest,
Which seemed to please the goodly courser best.

LXXXVI
Now by straight way and now by crooked wound
Frontino, now by wood and wide champaign;
And all night with his rider paced that round,
Who never ceased a moment to complain:
He called on Death, and therein comfort found;
Since broke by him alone is stubborn pain;
Nor saw, save Death, what other power could close
The account of his insufferable woes.

LXXXVII
"Whereof should I complain," he said, "wo is me!
So of my every good at once forlorn?
Ah! if I will not bear this injury
Without revenge, against whom shall I turn?
For I, besides myself, none other see
That hath inflicted on me scathe and scorn.
Then I to take revenge for all the harm
Done to myself, against myself must arm.

LXXXVIII
"Yet was but to myself this injury done,
Myself to spare (because this touched but me)
I haply could, yet hardly could, be won;
Nay, I will say outright, I could not be.
Less can I be, since not to me alone,
But Bradamant, is done this injury;
Even if I could consent myself to spare,
It fits me not unvenged to leave that fair.

LXXXIX
"Then I the damsel will avenge, and die,
(Nor this disturbs me) whatsoe'er betide;
For, bating death, I know not aught, whereby
Defence against my grief can be supplied.
But I lament myself alone, that I
Before offending her, should not have died.
O happier Fortune! had I breathed my last
In Theodora's dungeon prisoned fast!

XC
"Though she had slain, had tortured me before
She slew, as prompted by her cruelty,
At least the hope would have remained in store
That I by Bradamant should pitied be:
But when she knows that I loved Leo more
Than her, that, of my own accord and free,
Myself of her, I for his good, deprive,
Dead will she rightly hate me or alive. "

XCI
These words he said and many more, with sigh
And heavy sob withal accompanied,
And, when another sun illumed the sky,
Mid strange and gloomy woods himself espied;
And, for he desperate was and bent to die,
And he, as best he could, his death would hide;
This place to him seemed far removed from view,
And fitted for the deed that he would do.

XCII
He entered into that dark woodland, where
He thickest trees and most entangled spied:
But first Frontino was the warrior's care,
Whom he unharnessed wholly, and untied.
"O my Frontino, if thy merits rare
I could reward, thou little cause" (he cried)
"Shouldst have to envy him, so highly graced,
Who soared to heaven, and mid the stars was placed.

XCIII
"Nor Cillarus, nor Arion, was whilere
Worthier than thee, nor merited more praise;
Nor any other steed, whose name we hear
Sounded in Grecian or in Latin lays.
Was any such in other points thy peer,
None of them, well I know, the vaunt can raise;
That such high honour and such courtesy
Were upon him bestowed, as were on thee.

XCIV
"Since to the gentlest maid, of fairest dye,
And boldest that hath been, or evermore
Will be, thou wast so dear, she used to tie
Thy trappings, and to thee thy forage bore:
Dear wast thou to my lady-love: Ah! why
Call I her mine, since she is mine no more?
If I have given her to another lord,
Why turn I not upon myself this sword? "

XCV
If him these thoughts so harass and torment,
That bird and beast are softened by his cries;
(For, saving these, none hears the sad lament,
Nor sees the flood that trickles form his eyes)
You are not to believe that more content
The Lady Bradamant in Paris lies;
Who can no longer her delay excuse,
Nor Leo for her wedded lord refuse.

XCVI
Ere she herself to any consort tie,
Beside her own Rogero, she will fain
Do what so can be done; her word belie;
Anger friends, kindred, court, and Charlemagne;
And if she nothing else can do, will die,
By poison or her own good faulchion slain:
For not to live appears far lesser woe,
Than, living, her Rogero to forego.