No More Learning

To the third heaven her chaste soul made repair,
And in Zerbino's arms was locked again.
On earth, with shame and sorrow for his share,
That second Breuse sans pity did remain;
Who, when digested was the maddening bowl,
Lamented sore his error, sad at soul.

XXXI
That placated, or in some content,
The sainted soul of Isabel might be;
That, if to death that damsel he had shent,
He might at least revive her memory,
He, as a means to compass his intent,
Would turn into a tomb that church, where he
Inhabited, and where she buried lies;
To you shall be related in what wise.

XXXII
In all parts round about this chosen site,
For love or fear, he master-masons found;
And, making full six thousand men unite,
Stript of their heavy stones the mountains round,
And raised a fabric ninety yards in height,
From its extremest summit to the ground;
And he within its walls the church enclosed;
Wherein entombed the lovers twain reposed.

XXXIII
This nearly imitates that pile beside
Old Tyber's stream, by Adrian built; and nigh
The sepulchre, will he a tower provide,
Wherein he purposes some time to lie.
A narrow bridge, and only two yards wide,
He flung across the stream which rolled fast by.
Long, but so scanty is that bridge, with pain
The narrow pass two coursers can contain;

XXXIV
Two coursers, that abreast have thither made,
Or else, encountering, on that causeway meet:
Nor any where was ledge or barricade,
To stay the horses's fall, who lost his feet.
He wills that bridge's toll be dearly paid
By Christian or by Moor, who pass his seat;
For with a thousand trophies, arms, and vest,
That damsel's tomb is destined to be drest.

XXXV
Within ten days, or shorter time, was placed
The bridge, whose arch across the stream was dight;
But not that pile and tower with equal haste
Were so conducted to their destined height.
Yet was the last so high, a sentry paced
Its top, who, whensoever any knight
Approached the bridge, was wont his lord to warn,
Sounding a signal on his bugle-horn.

XXXVI
Whereat he armed, and issued for the stower,
Now upon one and now the other side:
For when a warrior pricked towards the tower,
Him from the adverse bank that king defied:
The bridge affords the field their steeds must scour;
And, should one but a little swerve aside,
(Peril unparalleled! ) the horse will go
Into the deep and dangerous stream below.

XXXVII
The pagan had imagined, as a pain,
That, risking oft to tumble in the course,
Head-first into that stream, where he must drain
Huge draughts of water in his fall, parforce,
He would assoil and cleanse him from that stain,
Whereof excess in wine had been the source;
As if what ill wine prompts to do or say,
Water, as well as wine, could wash away.

XXXVIII
Soon thitherward flocked many a cavalier;
Some who pursued the beaten road and plain;
Since for way-faring men, who southward steer,
No straighter lay for Italy or Spain:
Their courage and their honour, held more dear
Than life, excited others of the train;
And all, where they had hoped the meed of strife,
Had lost their arms, and many arms and life.

XXXIX
If those he conquers are of pagan strain,
He is content to take their arms and vest:
And of those first arrived the titles plain
Are written, and their arms suspended rest.
But he in prison pens the christened train,
('Twould seem) to be to Argier's realm addrest.
Not yet was brought that building to a head
When thitherward the crazed Orlando sped.

XL
It chanced Orlando, in his furious mood,
Came thither where that foaming river ran;
Where Rodomont beside the mighty flood
Was hurrying on his work; nor yet were done
The tower and tomb, the bridge, scarce finished, stood:
Here -- save his casque was open -- Ulien's son
Steeled cap-a-pee, stood ready armed for fight,
When to the bridge approached Anglantes' knight.

XLI
Orlando running thus his wild career,
The barrier tops, and o'er the bridge would fly,
But sullen Rodomont, with troubled cheer,
Afoot, as he that tower is standing nigh,
For he disdains to brandish sword or spear,
Shouts to him from afar with threatening cry,
"Halt! thou intrusive churl and indiscreet,
Rash, meddling, saucy villain, stay thy feet!

XLII
"Only for lord and cavalier was made,
And not for thee, dull slave, that bridge was meant. "
To this no heed insane Orlando paid,
But, fixt upon his purpose, forward went.
"This madman must I school," the paynim said,
And was approaching with the fell intent
Him into that deep river to dispatch,
Nor deeming in such foe to find his match.

XLIII
This while, a gentle damsel sought the place
That towards that bridge across the river rode,
Richly arraid and beautiful of face,
Who sage reserve in her demeanor showed.
'Tis she that, of her Brandimart in chase,
(If you remember, sir,) through every road
And place her lover seeks in anxious wise,
Excepting Paris, where the warrior lies.

XLIV
When Flordelice that bridge and tower was near,
(So was by name the wandering damsel hight)
Grappling with Roland stood the Sarzan peer,
And would into that river pitch the knight.
She, conversant with Brava's cavalier,
The miserable county knew aright;
And mighty marvel in that dame it raised
To see him rove, a naked man and crazed.

XLV
She stopt, the issue of that strife to know,
Wherein those two so puissant warriors vied.
His opposite by might and main to throw,
Into the stream each doughty champion tried.
"How can a fool such mighty prowess show? "
Between his teeth, the furious paynim cried.