LXXXIII
"As no less cruel and less hard to abide
He deemed a woe which caused such piteous smart,
Than had he seen a hostile hand his side
Lay bare, and from his bosom pluck his heart:
Dead-white with jealous fear his cheek is dyed,
Through doubt of his fair consort while apart;
And in the mode he deems may best avail,
He supplicates her not in faith to fail,
LXXXIV
"Nor beauty, to his wife the husband cries,
Nor noble blood, nor fortune, are enow
To make a woman to true honour rise,
Save chaste in name and deed; subjoining how
The virtue that mankind most highly prize
Is that which triumphs after strife; and now
Through his long absense, a fair field and wide
Is opened where that virtue may be tried.
"As no less cruel and less hard to abide
He deemed a woe which caused such piteous smart,
Than had he seen a hostile hand his side
Lay bare, and from his bosom pluck his heart:
Dead-white with jealous fear his cheek is dyed,
Through doubt of his fair consort while apart;
And in the mode he deems may best avail,
He supplicates her not in faith to fail,
LXXXIV
"Nor beauty, to his wife the husband cries,
Nor noble blood, nor fortune, are enow
To make a woman to true honour rise,
Save chaste in name and deed; subjoining how
The virtue that mankind most highly prize
Is that which triumphs after strife; and now
Through his long absense, a fair field and wide
Is opened where that virtue may be tried.
Ariosoto - Orlando Furioso
The cavalier (Adonio was he named)
Was with the beauties of the dame inflamed;
LXXV
"And for the furtherance of his amorous quest,
To grace himself, began his wealth to spend,
Without restraint, in banquet and in vest,
And what might most a cavalier commend:
If he Tiberius' treasure had possest,
He of his riches would have made an end.
I well believe two winters were not done,
Ere his paternal fortune was outrun.
LXXVI
"The house erewhile, frequented by a horde
-- Morning and evening -- of so many friends,
Is solitary; since no more his board
Beneath the partridge, quail, and pheasant bends.
Of that once noble troop upon the lord,
Save beggars, hardly any one attends.
Ruined, at length he thinks he will begone
To other country, where he is unknown.
LXXVII
"He leaves his native land with this intent,
Nor letteth any his departure know;
And coasts, in tears and making sad lament,
The marshes that about his city go:
He his heart's queen, amid his discontent,
Meanwhile forgets not, for this second woe.
Lo! him another accident that falls,
From sovereign woe to sovereign bliss recalls!
LXXVIII
"He saw a peasant who with heavy stake
Smote mid some sapling trunks on every side:
Adonio stopt, and wherefore so he strake,
Asked of the rustic, that in answer cried,
Within that clump a passing ancient snake,
Amid the tangled stems he had espied:
A longer serpent and more thick to view
He never saw, nor thought to see anew;
LXXIX
"And that from thence he would not wend his way
Until the reptile he had found and slain,
When so Adonio heard the peasant say,
He scarce his speech with patience could sustain,
Aye reverence to the serpent wont to pay,
The honoured ensign of his ancient strain;
In memory that their primal race had grown
Erewhile from serpent's teeth by Cadmus sown;
LXXX
"And by the churl the offended knight so said,
And did withal, he made him quit the emprize;
Leaving the hunted serpent neither dead,
Nor injured, nor pursued in further wise.
Thither, where he believes would least have spread
The story of his woe, Adonio hies;
And in discomfort and in sorrow wears,
Far from his native land, seven weary years.
LXXXI
"Neither for distance nor for straitened cheer,
Which will not let Thought run its restless round,
Ceased Love, so wont to rein the cavalier,
Aye to inflame his heart, aye vex his wound:
At length those beauties, to his eyes so dear,
Parforce must he revisit, homeward bound.
Unshorn, afflicted, he, in poor array,
Thither returns, from whence he went his way.
LXXXII
"My city, at the time whereof I tell,
To Rome was fain to send an embassy;
That sometime near his holiness should dwell;
And for how long a time could none foresee.
Upon our judge the lot of envoy fell:
O day, that ever wept by him will be!
To be excused, Anselmo promised, prayed,
And bribed; but at the last parforce obeyed.
LXXXIII
"As no less cruel and less hard to abide
He deemed a woe which caused such piteous smart,
Than had he seen a hostile hand his side
Lay bare, and from his bosom pluck his heart:
Dead-white with jealous fear his cheek is dyed,
Through doubt of his fair consort while apart;
And in the mode he deems may best avail,
He supplicates her not in faith to fail,
LXXXIV
"Nor beauty, to his wife the husband cries,
Nor noble blood, nor fortune, are enow
To make a woman to true honour rise,
Save chaste in name and deed; subjoining how
The virtue that mankind most highly prize
Is that which triumphs after strife; and now
Through his long absense, a fair field and wide
Is opened where that virtue may be tried.
LXXXV
"With such persuasions, and with many more
Anselm exhorts the lady to be true.
His going doth his woful wife deplore.
O heaven, what tears, what loud complaints ensue!
Immersed in her despair, that lady swore,
Sooner the sun bedimmed the world should view
Than she would break her faith; she would expire
Sooner than she would cherish such desire.
LXXXVI
"Though to the lady's promise and protest
He lent belief, and somewhat calmed his fears,
Until he further hear he will not rest;
And till he can find matter for his tears,
A soothsayer he among his friends possest,
Prized for his knowledge, as the first of seers;
Who of all witchery and of magic art
Had read the whole, or read the greater part.
LXXXVII
"To him before departing does he pray,
To take the charge upon himself to see
If true would be Argia while away
(So name his consort), or the contrary.
Won by his prayers, he takes the time o' the day;
Figures the heavens as they appear to be.
Anselmo left him at his work, and came
His answer on the following day to claim.
LXXXVIII
"The astrologer is silent, loath to expose
A matter that will work the doctor woe;
And would excuse himself with many a gloze:
But when he sees, he would the evil know,
Argia will break faith with him, he shows,
As soon as he shall from his threshold go.
Nor prayer shall soften her, nor beauty fire:
Corrupted will she be by gain and hire.
LXXXIX
"When to Anselmo's early doubt and fear
Are joined the threatnings of the signs above,
How stands his heart may well to thee appear,
If thou hast known the accidents of love;
And worse than every woe, wherewith whilere
The afflicted spirits of that husband strove,
Is that it by the prophet is foretold,
Argais' honour will be bought and sold.
XC
"Now to support his wife, as best he may,
From falling into such an evil deed.
For man, alas, will sometimes disarray
The altar, when he finds himself in need,
What gold and gems the judge had put away,
(A plenteous store) he leaves; and field and mead,
Rents, fruits, and all possessions whatsoe'er
Leaves to his consort; all his worldly gear:
XCI
" `With power,' he said, `not only without measure,
These, as thou needest, to enjoy and spend,
But do with them according to thy pleasure,
Consume and fling away, and give and vend:
Other account I ask not of my treasure,
If such as now I find thee in the end;
But such as now remain; -- at thy command
(Even shouldst thou squander both) are house and land. '
XCII
"Unless she heard he thither made repair,
He prayed that she would dwell not in the town;
But would a farm of his inhabit, where
She might with all convenience live alone.
And this besought he of his consort fair,
As thinking, that the rustics, which on down
Pasture their flocks, or fruitful fallows till,
Could ne'er contaminate her honest will.
