CVII
Many, of whom the sister had been slain,
The mother, or the daughter, or the wife,
Seeking no more their rebel wrath to rein,
Hurry, with their own hands to take his life;
And young Rogero and the damsels twain
Can scarce defend the felon in that strife;
Whom those illustrious three had doomed to die,
Mid trouble, fear, and lengthened agony.
CVIII
To the hag, who bore such hatred to that wight,
As woman to an enemy can bear,
They give their prisoner naked, bound so tight,
He will not at one shake the cordage tear;
And she, her pains and sorrow to requite,
Crimsons the wretch's body, here and there,
With a sharp goad, which, mid that village band,
A peasant churl had put into her hand.
CIX
Nor she the courier maid, nor they that ride
With her, aye mindful how they had been shent,
Now let their hands hang idle by their side;
No less than that old crone on vengeance bent:
Such was their fierce desire, it nullified
The power to harm; but rage must have its vent.,
Him one with stones, another with her nails,
This with her teeth, with needles that, assails.
CX
As torrent one while foams in haughty tide,
When fed with mighty rain or melted snow;
And, rending form the mountain's rugged side
Tree, rock, and crop and field, the waters go:
Then comes a season when its crested pride
Is vanished, and its vigour wasted so,
A child, a woman, everywhere may tread,
And often dry-shod cross, its rugged bed.
CXI
So Marganor whilere each bound and bourn
Made tremble, whereso'er his name was heard:
Now one is come to bruise the tyrant's horn;
And now his prowess is so little feared,
That even the little children work him scorn:
Some pluck his hair and others pluck his beard.
Thence young Rogero and the damsels twain
Towards his rock-built castle turn the rein.
CXII
This without contest its possessors yield,
And the rich goods preserved in that repair.
These the friends partly spoiled, and partly dealed
To Ulany and that attendant pair.
With them, recovered was the golden shield,
And those three monarchs that were prisoned there;
Who, without arms, afoot, towards that hold
Had wended, as meseems whilere was told.
CXIII
For from the day that they were overthrown
By Bradamant, afoot, they evermore,
Unarmed, in company with her had gone,
That hither came from her so distant shore.
I know not, I, if it was better done
Or worse, by her, that they their arms forbore;
Worse, touching her defence; but better far,
If they were losers in the doubtful war.
CXIV
For she would have been dragged, — like others, whom
Armed men had thither brought beneath their guide,
(Unhappy women) to the brothers' tomb, —
And by the sacrifice knife have died.
Death, sure, is worse, and more disastrous doom
Than showing that which modesty would hide;
And they who can to force ascribe the blame,
Extinguish this and every other shame.
CXV
Before they hence depart, the martial twain
Assemble the inhabitants, to swear,
They to their wives the rule of that domain
Will leave, as well as every other care;
And that they will chastise, with heavy pain,
Whoever to oppose this law shall dare.
— In fine, man's privileges, whatsoe'er,
They swear, shall be conferred on woman here:
CXVI
Then make them promise never to bestow
Harbourage on whosoever thither sped,
Footman or cavalier, nor even allow
Any beneath a roof to hide his head,
Unless he swore by God and saints, or vow
Yet stronger made — if stronger could be said —
That he the sex's cause would aye defend,
Foe to their foes, and woman's faithful friend;