No More Learning

LXXIII
" 'Twere long to tell of Alda de Sansogna,
Or of Celano's countess in this string,
Or Blanche Maria, stiled of Catalonia;
Or her, the daughter of Sicilia's king,
Or of the beauteous Lippa de Bologna,
Or more, with whose renown the world shall ring,
To speak whose separate praise with fitting lore,
Were to attempt a sea without a shore. "

LXXIV
When of the larger portion of her seed
The king enchantress at full ease had told,
And oft and oft rehearsed, amid the rede,
What arts Rogero to the wizard's hold
Had drawn, Melissa halted near the mead
Where stood the mansion of Atlantes old,
Nor would approach the magic dome more nigh,
Lest her the false magician should espy.

LXXV
And yet again advised the martial maid,
(Counsel she had a thousand times bestowed)
Then left, Nor Bradamant through greenwood shade
More than two miles in narrow path had rode,
Before, by two fierce giants overlaid,
She saw a knight, who like Rogero showed,
So closely pressed, and labouring sore for breath,
That he appeared well nigh reduced to death.

LXXVI
When she beheld him in such perilous strait,
Who of Rogero all the tokens wore,
She quickly lost the faith she nourished late,
Quickly her every fair design forbore.
She weens Melissa bears Rogero hate,
For some new injury unheard before:
And with unheard of hate and wrong, her foe
Would by her hand destroy who loves him so.

LXXVII
She cried, "And is not this Rogero, who
Aye present to my heart, is now to sight?
If 'tis not him whom I agnize and view.
Whom e'er shall I agnize or view aright?
Why should I other's judgment deem more true
Than the belief that's warranted by sight?
Even without eyes, and by my heart alone,
If he were near or distant, would be shown. "

LXXVIII
While so the damsel thinks, a voice she hears,
Which, like Rogero's, seems for aid to cry;
At the same time, the worsted knight appears
To slack the bridle and the rowels ply:
While at full speed the goaded courser clears
His ground, pursued by either enemy.
Nor paused the dame, in following them who sought
His life, till to the enchanted palace brought.

LXXIX
Of which no sooner has she past the door,
Than she is cheated by the common show.
Each crooked way or straight her feet explore
Within it and without, above, below;
Nor rests she night or day, so strong the lore
Of the enchanter, who has ordered so,
She (though they still encounter and confer)
Knows not Rogero, nor Rogero her.

LXXX
But leave we Bradamant, nor grieve, O ye
Who hear, that she is prisoned by the spell,
Since her in fitting time I shall set free,
And good Rogero, from the dome as well,
As taste is quickened by variety,
So it appears that, in the things I tell,
The wider here and there my story ranges,
It will be found less tedious for its changes.
LXXXI
Meseems that I have many threads to clear
In the great web I labour evermore;
And therefore be ye not displeased to hear
How, all dislodged, the squadrons of the Moor,
Threatening the golden lines loud, appear
In arms, the royal Agramant before:
Who bids for a review his army post,
Willing to know the numbers of his host.

LXXXII
For besides horse and foot, in the campaign
Sore thinned, whose numbers were to be supplied,
Had many captains, and those good, of Spain,
Of Libya, and of Aethiopia, died;
And thus the nations, and the various train,
Wandered without a ruler or a guide.
To give to each its head and order due,
The ample camp is mustered in review.

LXXXIII
To fill the squadrons ravaged by the sword,
In those fierce battles and those conflicts dread,
This to his Spain, to his Africa that lord,
Sent to recruit, where well their files they fed;
And next distributed the paynim horde
Under their proper captains, ranged and led.
I, with your leave, till other strain, delay
The order of the muster to display.


CANTO 14

ARGUMENT
Two squadrons lack of those which muster under
King Agramant, by single Roland slain;
Hence furious Mandricardo, full of wonder
And envy, seeks the count by hill and plain:
Next joys himself with Doralice; such plunder,
Aided by heaven, his valiant arms obtain.
Rinaldo comes, with the angel-guide before,
To Paris, now assaulted by the Moor.


I
In many a fierce assault and conflict dread,
'Twixt Spain and Afric and their Gallic foe,
Countless had been the slain, whose bodies fed
The ravening eagle, wolf, and greedy crow;
But though the Franks had worse in warfare sped,
Forced all the champaigne country to forego,
This had the paynims purchased at the cost
Of more good princes and bold barons lost.

II
So bloody was the price of victory,
Small ground was left them triumphs to prepare;
And if, unconquered Duke Alphonso, we
May modern things with ancient deeds compare,
The battle, whose illustrious palm may be
Well worthily assigned to you to wear,
At whose remembrance sad Ravenna trembles,
And aye shall weep her loss, this field resembles.

III
When the Calesians and the Picards yielding,
And troops of Normandy and Aquitaine,
You, with your valiant arms their squadrons shielding,
Stormed the almost victorious flags of Spain;
And those bold youths their trenchant weapons wielding,
Through parted squadrons, followed in your train;
Who on that day deserved you should accord,
For honoured gifts, the gilded spur and sword.

IV
You, with such glorious hearts, who were not slow
To follow, nor far off, the gorgeous oak
Seized, and shook down the golden acorns so,
And so the red and yellow truncheon broke,
That we to you our festive laurels owe,
And the fair lily, rescued from its stroke;
Another wreath may round your temples bloom,
In that Fabricius you preserved to Rome.

V
Rome's mighty column, by your valiant hand
Taken and kept entire, more praise has shed
On you, than if the predatory band
Had routed by your single valour bled,
Of all who flocked to fat Ravenna's land,
Or masterless, without a banner fled,
Of Arragon, Castile, or of Navarre;
When vain was lance or cannon's thundering car.

VI
This dear-bought victory brought more relief
Than joy, by its event too much outweighed,
The loss of that French captain and our chief,
Whom dead we on the fatal field surveyed;
And swallowed in one storm, for further grief,
So many glorious princes, who, arrayed
For safeguard of their own, or neighbouring lands,
Had poured through, frozen Alps their friendly bands.

VII
Our present safety, and life held in fear,
We see assured us by this victory,
That saved us from the wintry tempest drear,
Which would have whelmed us from Jove's angry sky.
But ill can we rejoice, while yet the tear
Is standing in full many a widow's eye,
Who weeping and attired in sable, vents,
Throughout all grieving France, her loud laments.

VIII
'Tis meet King Lewis should find new supplies
Of chiefs by whom his troops may be arrayed,
Who for the lilies' honour shall chastise
The hands which so rapaciously have preyed;
Who brethren, black and white, in shameful wise,
Have outraged, sister, mother, wife, and maid,
And cast on earth Christ's sacrament divine,
With the intent to thieve his silver shrine.