Whose marble pannel a mosaic fill'd
Of pearl and emerald, sown with care so nice;
That he who saw the piece, if little skill'd,
Might deem it was a treasure passing price.
In the mid-picture lay a damsel kill'd;
And, writ in golden letters, the device
This legend bore: "Let whoso passes, plight
"His word to 'venge my death, and do me right;
"Or he shall die the death; but if he swear
"To slay the traitor who my death design'd;
"The enchanted courser shall the warrior bear,
"A courser that is swifter than the wind."
The prince stopt not to think; but plighted there
In solemn form, his promise, as enjoin'd;
His promise to avenge, alive or dead.
The slaughter'd damsel's blood, unjustly shed.
Then enters, and beholds the courser tied
With chains of gold, so famous for his speed.
With foot-cloth of white silk he was supplied.
And all things else convenient for his need.
Tho' coal-black all the rest, the tail was pied.
And starred with white the forehead of the steed;
And white one foot behind. Bayardo's might
Was more: but this had pass'd a dart in flight.
Rinaldo is delighted with his adventure, and, while surveying the steed, beholds a book, secured by a chain, in which was written in blood the history of the damsel's death.
The book related that Truffaldino, king of Baldacca, had a count for his neighbour, distinguished for his virtues and accomplishments, whom that evil-minded prince misliked on that very account. His name was Orisello, and Montefalcon was that of the castle where he resided. This lord had a sister as distinguished for her merit, called Albarosa, who loved Polindo, a noble knight of equal virtue and daring. The castle was built upon a rock, and so well fortified, that Truffaldino, who had warred upon the count, though he had made several assaults upon it, had always been defeated in his attempts.
Things being in this state, Polindo, who had a great love for travel, and often wandered from court to court, arrived at that of Truffaldino; who, for his own evil views, shewed him great favour, and having acquired his confidence, promised him assistance in his designs upon Albarosa. As a means of forwarding these, he presents him with a castle of pleasure, situated a day's journey from Montefalcon; and Polindo having persuaded Albarosa to elope with him, carries her thither; but while they are supping together, with infinite delight, Truffaldino, who had entered the castle by a subterraneous passage, unknown to its new possessor, breaks in upon them with a party of his retainers, and binds them both. He then dictates a letter to the lady, which he orders her to send to her brother Orisello, in order to decoy him into his hands. She refuses; when the tyrant puts her to the torture, in the presence of Polindo, before whose eyes she expires, refusing compliance with her latest breath.
Rinaldo, having read this dreadful history, swears anew to avenge the treason, and, mounted upon Rabican, issues forth from the cavern. He and the damsel, however, have not ridden far, when the light fails them in a forest, where they dismount, secure their horses, and compose themselves to rest.
Beside the maid with zest Rinaldo sleeps;
For him, nor time, nor place, nor beauty move.
From whence we learn the antidote, which keeps
The heart and mind from that which is above
All other cure; that he, who sows and reaps,
Or tilts and tourneys, never dies of love:
But in this book I am ill read, nor can
Bolt, as I would, such matters to the bran.
And now the air on every side grew light,
Though the sun shew'd not yet his golden ray;
With few and fading stars the sky was dight,
And the glad birds rang out their matin lay.
Such was the season, neither day nor night;
When the maid view'd Rinaldo where he lay;
Who from her grassy couch before had crept,
And watch'd the weary warrior as he slept.
Of lively visage, though composed to rest,
The lusty knight in early youth appear'd.
Light in the flanks, and large across the chest;
And on his lip scarce bloom'd the manly beard.
On him the damsel gazed with alter'd breast,
To her by new-discovered gifts endear'd:
For slumber ever gives the sleeper's face
I know not what of loveliness and grace.