XLII
The courteous Leo that Rogero loved,
Not that the Grecian knew howe'er that he
Rogero was, but by that valour moved
Which sole and superhuman seemed to be,
Thought much, and mused, and planned, how it behoved
— And found at last a way — to set him free;
So that his cruel aunt should have no right
To grieve or say he did her a despite.
XLIII
In secret, Leo with the man that bore
The prison-keys a parley had, and said,
He wished to see that cavalier, before
Upon the wretch was done a doom so dread.
When it was night, one, faithful found of yore,
Bold, strong, and good in brawl, he thither led;
And — by the silent warder taught that none
Must know 'twas Leo — was the door undone.
XLIV
Leo, escorted by none else beside,
Was led by the compliant castellain,
With his companion, to the tower, where stied
Was he, reserved for nature's latest pain.
There round the neck of their unwary guide,
Who turns his back the wicket to unchain,
A slip-knot Leo and his follower cast;
And, throttled by the noose, he breathes his last.
XLV
— The trap upraised, by rope from thence suspended
For such a need — the Grecian cavalier,
With lighted flambeau in his hand, descended,
Where, straitly bound, and without sun to cheer,
Rogero lay, upon a grate extended,
Less than a palm's breadth of the water clear:
To kill him in a month, or briefer space,
Nothing was needed but that deadly place.
XLVI
Lovingly Leo clipt the Child, and, "Me,
O cavalier! thy matchless valour," cried,
"Hath in indissoluble bands to thee,
In willing and eternal service, tried;
And wills thy good to mine preferred should be,
And I for thine my safety set aside,
And weigh thy friendship more than sire, and all
Whom I throughout the world my kindred call.
XLVII
"I Leo am, that thou what fits mayst know,
Come to thy succour, the Greek emperor's son:
If ever Constantine, my father, trow
That I have aided thee, I danger run
To be exiled, or aye with troubled brow
Regarded for the deed that I have done;
For thee he hates because of those thy blade
Put to the rout and slaughtered near Belgrade."
XLVIII
He his discourse with more beside pursues,
That might from death to life the Child recall;
And all this while Rogero's hands doth loose.
"Infinite thanks I owe you," cries the thrall,
"And I the life you gave me, for your use
Will ever render back, upon your call;
And still, at all your need, I for your sake,
And at all times, that life will promptly stake."
XLIX
Rogero is rescued; and the gaoler slain
Is left in that dark dungeon in his place;
Nor is Rogero known, nor are the twain:
Leo the warrior, free from bondage base,
Brings home, and there in safety to remain
Persuades, in secret, four or six days' space:
Meanwhile for him will he retrieve the gear
And courser, by Ungiardo reft whilere.
L
Open the gaol is found at dawn of light,
The gaoler strangled, and Rogero gone.
Some think that these or those had helped his flight:
All talk; and yet the truth is guessed by none.
Well may they think by any other wight
Rather than Leo had the deed been done;
For many deemed he had cause to have repaid
The Child with scathe, and none to give him aid.
LI
So wildered by such kindness, so immersed
In wonder, is the rescued cavalier,
So from those thoughts is he estranged, that erst
So many weary miles had made him steer,
His second thoughts confronting with his first,
Nor these like those, nor those like these appear.
He first with hatred, rage, and venom burned;
With pity and with love then wholly yearned.