XCIX
Gradasso turned, nor more Orlando sought,
But hastened where he Agramant espied:
The incautious Brandimart, suspecting nought
Orlando would have let him turn aside,
Had not Gradasso in his eyes or thought,
And to the paynim's throat his knife applied.
Gradasso came, and at his helmet layed,
Wielding with either hand his trenchant blade.
C
Father of heaven! 'mid spirits chosen by thee,
To him thy martyr true, a place accord;
Who, having traversed his tempestuous sea,
Now furls his sails in port. Ah! ruthless sword,
So cruel, Durindana, can'st thou be,
To good Orlando, to thine ancient lord,
That thou can'st slaughter, in the warrior's view,
Of all his friends the dearest and most true?
CI
An iron ring that girt his helmet round,
Two inches thick, was broke by that fell blow
And cleft; and with the solid iron bound,
Was parted the good cap of steel below,
Bold Brandimart, reversed upon the ground,
With haggard face beside his horse lies low;
And issuing widely from the warrior's head
A stream of life-blood dyes the shingle red.
CII
Come to himself, the County turns his eye
And sees his Brandimart upon the plain,
And in such act Gradasso standing by
As clearly shows by whom the knight was slain.
If he most raged or grieved I know not, I,
But such short time is left him to complain,
His hasty wrath breaks forth, his grief gives way;
But now 'tis time that I suspend my lay.
CANTO 42
ARGUMENT
The victory with Count Orlando lies;
But good Rinaldo and Bradamant at heart,
(One for Angelica, the other sighs
For young Rogero) suffer cruel smart.
Him that in chase of the Indian damsel hies
Disdain preserves; from thence does he depart
Towards Italy, and is with courteous cheer
And welcome guested by a cavalier.
I
What bit, what iron curb is to be found,
Or (could it be) what adamantine rein,
That can make wrath keep order and due bound,
And within lawful limits him contain?
When one, to whom the constant heart is bound
And linked by Love with solid bolt and chain,
We see, through violence or through foul deceit,
With mortal damage or dishonour meet.
II
And is the mind sometimes, if so possest,
To ill and savage action led astray,
It may deserve excuse; in that the breast
No more is under Reason's sovereign sway.
Achilles, when, beneath his borrowed crest,
He saw Patroclus crimsoning the way,
Was with his murderer's slaughter ill content,
Till he his mangled corse had dragged and shent.
III
Unconquered Duke Alphonso, anger so
Inflamed thy host the day that weighty stone
Wounded thy forehead with such grievous blow,
That all believed it to its rest was gone;
— Inflamed them with such fury, for the foe
In rampart, fosse, or wall, defence was none,
Who, one and all, within their works lay dead,
Nor wight was left the woeful news to spread.
IV
Seeing thy fall caused thine such mighty pain,
They were to fury moved; hadst thou, my lord,
Maintained thy footing, haply might thy train
Have with less licence plied the murderous sword.
Enough for thee thy Bastia to regain!
In fewer hours replaced beneath thy ward,
Then Cordova's and fierce Granada's band
Took days erewhile, to wrest it from thy hand.