XIII
"Be ye assured," to them Ferrau replied,
"He is not one of those I hear you cite
To me (for I his open face descried).
Rinaldo's youthful brother seemed the knight.
But since his doughty valour I have tried,
And wot not such is Richardetto's might,
I ween it is his sister, who, I hear,
Resembles much in mien that martial peer.
XIV
"The damsel equals well, so Rumour tells,
Rinaldo, and every paladin in fray.
But brother she and cousin both excels,
Measured by that which I have seen to-day."
Hearing him, while upon her praise he dwells,
As the sky reddens with the morning ray,
Rogero's face is flushed with crimson hue,
And his heart throbs, nor knows he what to do.
XV Stung, at these tidings, by the amorous dart — Within, new fire inflames the cavalier; And strait, together with the burning smart, Shoots through his bones a chill, produced by fear; Fear, that new wrath had stifled in her heart That mighty love, wherewith she burned whilere. Confused he stands, irresolute and slow, And undecided if to stay or go.
XVI
Now fierce Marphisa, who was there, and prest
By huge desire to meet the stranger wight,
And armed withal (for, save in iron vest,
Her seldom would you find by day or night).
Hearing Rogero is in armour drest,
Fearing to lose the honour of the fight,
If first that champion with the stranger vies;
Thinks to prevent the youth and win the prize.
XVII
She leapt upon her horse, and thither hied
Where Aymon's daughter on the listed plain,
With palpitating heart, upon her side,
Waited Rogero; whom the damsel fain
Would make her prisoner, and but schemed to guide
Her lance in mode the stripling least to pain.
Marphisa from the city portal fares,
And on her gallant helm a phoenix wears.
XVIII
Whether the maid would publish, in her pride,
That she was single in the world, for might;
Or whether by that symbol signified,
That she would live, exempt from bridal rite.
Her closely Aymon's martial daughter eyed;
When seeing not those features, her delight,
She craves the damsel's name before they move,
And hears that it is she who joys her love:
XIX
Or rather she, that gentle lady thought,
Had joyed her love; and whom she hated so,
Her to Death's door her anger would have brought,
Unless she venged her sorrow on the foe.
She wheeled her courser round, with fury fraught,
Less with desire to lay her rival low,
Than with the lance to pierce her in mid breast,
And put her every jealousy at rest.
XX
Parforce to ground must go the royal maid,
To prove it hard or soft the listed plain,
And be with such unwonted scorn appaid,
That she is nearly maddened by disdain.
Scarce was she thrown, before her trenchant blade
She bared, and hurried to avenge the stain.
Cried Aymon's daughter, no less proud of heart,
"What art thou doing? Thou my prisoner art."
XXI
"Though I have courtesy for others, none"
(She said) "from me, Marphisa, shalt thou find.
Since evermore I hear of thee, as one
To pride and every churlishness inclined."
Marphisa, at these words, was heard to groan,
As roars in some sea-rock the prisoned wind.
She screamed an answer; but its sense was drowned
(Such rage confused that damsel) in the sound.
XXII
She whirls this while her faulchion, and would fain
Wound horse or rider in the paunch or breast;
But Aymon's watchful daughter turns the rein;
And on one side her courser leaps; possest
With furious anger and with fierce disdain,
She at her opposite her lance addrest;
And hardly touched the damsel, ere, astound,
Marphisa fell, reversed upon the ground.