{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4927/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4927","id":"gutenberg_4927","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4927","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Charlemagne, Emperor, 742-814","Folklore -- Europe"],"text":"Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY\n\n\n  THE AGE OF FABLE\n  THE AGE OF CHIVALRY\n  LEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\n\nBY THOMAS BULFINCH\n\nCOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME\n\n\n[Editor's Note: The etext contains only LEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE]\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHERS' PREFACE\n\n\nNo new edition of Bulfinch's classic work can be considered complete\nwithout some notice of the American scholar to whose wide erudition and\npainstaking care it stands as a perpetual monument. \"The Age of Fable\"\nhas come to be ranked with older books like \"Pilgrim's Progress,\"\n\"Gulliver's Travels,\" \"The Arabian Nights,\" \"Robinson Crusoe,\" and five\nor six other productions of world-wide renown as a work with which\nevery one must claim some acquaintance before his education can be\ncalled really complete. Many readers of the present edition will\nprobably recall coming in contact with the work as children, and, it\nmay be added, will no doubt discover from a fresh perusal the source of\nnumerous bits of knowledge that have remained stored in their minds\nsince those early years. Yet to the majority of this great circle of\nreaders and students the name Bulfinch in itself has no significance.\n\nThomas Bulfinch was a native of Boston, Mass., where he was born in\n1796. His boyhood was spent in that city, and he prepared for college\nin the Boston schools. He finished his scholastic training at Harvard\nCollege, and after taking his degree was for a period a teacher in his\nhome city. For a long time later in life he was employed as an\naccountant in the Boston Merchants' Bank. His leisure time he used for\nfurther pursuit of the classical studies which he had begun at Harvard,\nand his chief pleasure in life lay in writing out the results of his\nreading, in simple, condensed form for young or busy readers. The plan\nhe followed in this work, to give it the greatest possible usefulness,\nis set forth in the Author's Preface.\n\n\"Age of Fable,\" First Edition, 1855; \"The Age of Chivalry,\" 1858; \"The\nBoy Inventor,\" 1860; \"Legends of Charlemagne, or Romance of the Middle\nAges,\" 1863; \"Poetry of the Age of Fable,\" 1863; \"Oregon and Eldorado,\nor Romance of the Rivers,\" 1860.\n\nIn this complete edition of his mythological and legendary lore \"The\nAge of Fable,\" \"The Age of Chivalry,\" and \"Legends of Charlemagne\" are\nincluded. Scrupulous care has been taken to follow the original text of\nBulfinch, but attention should be called to some additional sections\nwhich have been inserted to add to the rounded completeness of the\nwork, and which the publishers believe would meet with the sanction of\nthe author himself, as in no way intruding upon his original plan but\nsimply carrying it out in more complete detail. The section on Northern\nMythology has been enlarged by a retelling of the epic of the\n\"Nibelungen Lied,\" together with a summary of Wagner's version of the\nlegend in his series of music-dramas. Under the head of \"Hero Myths of\nthe British Race\" have been included outlines of the stories of\nBeowulf, Cuchulain, Hereward the Wake, and Robin Hood. Of the verse\nextracts which occur throughout the text, thirty or more have been\nadded from literature which has appeared since Bulfinch's time,\nextracts that he would have been likely to quote had he personally\nsupervised the new edition.\n\nFinally, the index has been thoroughly overhauled and, indeed, remade.\nAll the proper names in the work have been entered, with references to\nthe pages where they occur, and a concise explanation or definition of\neach has been given. Thus what was a mere list of names in the original\nhas been enlarged into a small classical and mythological dictionary,\nwhich it is hoped will prove valuable for reference purposes not\nnecessarily connected with \"The Age of Fable.\"\n\nAcknowledgments are due the writings of Dr. Oliver Huckel for\ninformation on the point of Wagner's rendering of the Nibelungen\nlegend, and M. I. Ebbutt's authoritative volume on \"Hero Myths and\nLegends of the British Race,\" from which much of the information\nconcerning the British heroes has been obtained.\n\n\n\n\nAUTHOR'S PREFACE\n\n\nIf no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which helps\nto enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in society, then\nMythology has no claim to the appellation. But if that which tends to\nmake us happier and better can be called useful, then we claim that\nepithet for our subject. For Mythology is the handmaid of literature;\nand literature is one of the best allies of virtue and promoters of\nhappiness.\n\nWithout a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of our\nown language cannot be understood and appreciated. When Byron calls\nRome \"the Niobe of nations,\" or says of Venice, \"She looks a Sea-Cybele\nfresh from ocean,\" he calls up to the mind of one familiar with our\nsubject, illustrations more vivid and striking than the pencil could\nfurnish, but which are lost to the reader ignorant of mythology. Milton\nabounds in similar allusions. The short poem \"Comus\" contains more than\nthirty such, and the ode \"On the Morning of the Nativity\" half as many.\nThrough \"Paradise Lost\" they are scattered profusely. This is one\nreason why we often hear persons by no means illiterate say that they\ncannot enjoy Milton. But were these persons to add to their more solid\nacquirements the easy learning of this little volume, much of the\npoetry of Milton which has appeared to them \"harsh and crabbed\" would\nbe found \"musical as is Apollo's lute.\" Our citations, taken from more\nthan twenty-five poets, from Spenser to Longfellow, will show how\ngeneral has been the practice of borrowing illustrations from mythology.\n\nThe prose writers also avail themselves of the same source of elegant\nand suggestive illustration. One can hardly take up a number of the\n\"Edinburgh\" or \"Quarterly Review\" without meeting with instances. In\nMacaulay's article on Milton there are twenty such.\n\nBut how is mythology to be taught to one who does not learn it through\nthe medium of the languages of Greece and Rome? To devote study to a\nspecies of learning which relates wholly to false marvels and obsolete\nfaiths is not to be expected of the general reader in a practical age\nlike this. The time even of the young is claimed by so many sciences of\nfacts and things that little can be spared for set treatises on a\nscience of mere fancy.\n\nBut may not the requisite knowledge of the subject be acquired by\nreading the ancient poets in translations? We reply, the field is too\nextensive for a preparatory course; and these very translations require\nsome previous knowledge of the subject to make them intelligible. Let\nany one who doubts it read the first page of the \"Aeneid,\" and see what\nhe can make of \"the hatred of Juno,\" the \"decree of the Parcae,\" the\n\"judgment of Paris,\" and the \"honors of Ganymede,\" without this\nknowledge.\n\nShall we be told that answers to such queries may be found in notes, or\nby a reference to the Classical Dictionary? We reply, the interruption\nof one's reading by either process is so annoying that most readers\nprefer to let an allusion pass unapprehended rather than submit to it.\nMoreover, such sources give us only the dry facts without any of the\ncharm of the original narrative; and what is a poetical myth when\nstripped of its poetry? The story of Ceyx and Halcyone, which fills a\nchapter in our book, occupies but eight lines in the best (Smith's)\nClassical Dictionary; and so of others.\n\nOur work is an attempt to solve this problem, by telling the stories of\nmythology in such a manner as to make them a source of amusement. We\nhave endeavored to tell them correctly, according to the ancient\nauthorities, so that when the reader finds them referred to he may not\nbe at a loss to recognize the reference. Thus we hope to teach\nmythology not as a study, but as a relaxation from study; to give our\nwork the charm of a story-book, yet by means of it to impart a\nknowledge of an important branch of education. The index at the end\nwill adapt it to the purposes of reference, and make it a Classical\nDictionary for the parlor.\n\nMost of the classical legends in \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" are\nderived from Ovid and Virgil. They are not literally translated, for,\nin the author's opinion, poetry translated into literal prose is very\nunattractive reading. Neither are they in verse, as well for other\nreasons as from a conviction that to translate faithfully under all the\nembarrassments of rhyme and measure is impossible. The attempt has been\nmade to tell the stories in prose, preserving so much of the poetry as\nresides in the thoughts and is separable from the language itself, and\nomitting those amplifications which are not suited to the altered form.\n\nThe Northern mythological stories are copied with some abridgment from\nMallet's \"Northern Antiquities.\" These chapters, with those on Oriental\nand Egyptian mythology, seemed necessary to complete the subject,\nthough it is believed these topics have not usually been presented in\nthe same volume with the classical fables.\n\nThe poetical citations so freely introduced are expected to answer\nseveral valuable purposes. They will tend to fix in memory the leading\nfact of each story, they will help to the attainment of a correct\npronunciation of the proper names, and they will enrich the memory with\nmany gems of poetry, some of them such as are most frequently quoted or\nalluded to in reading and conversation.\n\nHaving chosen mythology as connected with literature for our province,\nwe have endeavored to omit nothing which the reader of elegant\nliterature is likely to find occasion for. Such stories and parts of\nstories as are offensive to pure taste and good morals are not given.\nBut such stories are not often referred to, and if they occasionally\nshould be, the English reader need feel no mortification in confessing\nhis ignorance of them.\n\nOur work is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for the\nphilosopher, but for the reader of English literature, of either sex,\nwho wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently made by public\nspeakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and those which occur in\npolite conversation.\n\nIn the \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" the compiler has endeavored to\nimpart the pleasures of classical learning to the English reader, by\npresenting the stories of Pagan mythology in a form adapted to modern\ntaste. In \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and \"The Mabinogeon\" the\nattempt has been made to treat in the same way the stories of the\nsecond \"age of fable,\" the age which witnessed the dawn of the several\nstates of Modern Europe.\n\nIt is believed that this presentation of a literature which held\nunrivalled sway over the imaginations of our ancestors, for many\ncenturies, will not be without benefit to the reader, in addition to\nthe amusement it may afford. The tales, though not to be trusted for\ntheir facts, are worthy of all credit as pictures of manners; and it is\nbeginning to be held that the manners and modes of thinking of an age\nare a more important part of its history than the conflicts of its\npeoples, generally leading to no result. Besides this, the literature\nof romance is a treasure-house of poetical material, to which modern\npoets frequently resort. The Italian poets, Dante and Ariosto, the\nEnglish, Spenser, Scott, and Tennyson, and our own Longfellow and\nLowell, are examples of this.\n\nThese legends are so connected with each other, so consistently adapted\nto a group of characters strongly individualized in Arthur, Launcelot,\nand their compeers, and so lighted up by the fires of imagination and\ninvention, that they seem as well adapted to the poet's purpose as the\nlegends of the Greek and Roman mythology. And if every well-educated\nyoung person is expected to know the story of the Golden Fleece, why is\nthe quest of the Sangreal less worthy of his acquaintance? Or if an\nallusion to the shield of Achilles ought not to pass unapprehended, why\nshould one to Excalibar, the famous sword of Arthur?--\n\n    \"Of Arthur, who, to upper light restored,\n     With that terrific sword,\n     Which yet he brandishes for future war,\n     Shall lift his country's fame above the polar star.\"\n\n[Footnote: Wordsworth]\n\nIt is an additional recommendation of our subject, that it tends to\ncherish in our minds the idea of the source from which we sprung. We\nare entitled to our full share in the glories and recollections of the\nland of our forefathers, down to the time of colonization thence. The\nassociations which spring from this source must be fruitful of good\ninfluences; among which not the least valuable is the increased\nenjoyment which such associations afford to the American traveller when\nhe visits England, and sets his foot upon any of her renowned\nlocalities.\n\nThe legends of Charlemagne and his peers are necessary to complete the\nsubject.\n\nIn an age when intellectual darkness enveloped Western Europe, a\nconstellation of brilliant writers arose in Italy. Of these, Pulci\n(born in 1432), Boiardo (1434), and Ariosto (1474) took for their\nsubjects the romantic fables which had for many ages been transmitted\nin the lays of bards and the legends of monkish chroniclers. These\nfables they arranged in order, adorned with the embellishments of\nfancy, amplified from their own invention, and stamped with\nimmortality. It may safely be asserted that as long as civilization\nshall endure these productions will retain their place among the most\ncherished creations of human genius.\n\nIn \"Stories of Gods and Heroes,\" \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and \"The\nMabinogeon\" the aim has been to supply to the modern reader such\nknowledge of the fables of classical and mediaeval literature as is\nneeded to render intelligible the allusions which occur in reading and\nconversation. The \"Legends of Charlemagne\" is intended to carry out the\nsame design. Like the earlier portions of the work, it aspires to a\nhigher character than that of a piece of mere amusement. It claims to\nbe useful, in acquainting its readers with the subjects of the\nproductions of the great poets of Italy. Some knowledge of these is\nexpected of every well-educated young person.\n\nIn reading these romances, we cannot fail to observe how the primitive\ninventions have been used, again and again, by successive generations\nof fabulists. The Siren of Ulysses is the prototype of the Siren of\nOrlando, and the character of Circe reappears in Alcina. The fountains\nof Love and Hatred may be traced to the story of Cupid and Psyche; and\nsimilar effects produced by a magic draught appear in the tale of\nTristram and Isoude, and, substituting a flower for the draught, in\nShakspeare's \"Midsummer Night's Dream.\" There are many other instances\nof the same kind which the reader will recognize without our assistance.\n\nThe sources whence we derive these stories are, first, the Italian\npoets named above; next, the \"Romans de Chevalerie\" of the Comte de\nTressan; lastly, certain German collections of popular tales. Some\nchapters have been borrowed from Leigh Hunt's Translations from the\nItalian Poets. It seemed unnecessary to do over again what he had\nalready done so well; yet, on the other hand, those stories could not\nbe omitted from the series without leaving it incomplete.\n\nTHOMAS BULFINCH.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nLEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\n\n  Introduction\n  The Peers, or Paladins\n  The Tournament\n  The Siege of Albracca\n  Adventures of Rinaldo and Orlando\n  The Invasion of France\n  The Invasion of France (Continued)\n\n  Bradamante and Rogero\n  Astolpho and the Enchantress\n  The Orc\n  Astolpho's Adventures continued, and Isabella's begun.\n  Medoro\n  Orlando Mad\n  Zerbino and Isabella\n  Astolpho in Abyssinia\n  The War in Africa\n  Rogero and Bradamante\n  The Battle of Roncesvalles\n  Rinaldo and Bayard\n  Death of Rinaldo\n  Huon of Bordeaux\n  Huon of Bordeaux (Continued)\n  Huon of Bordeaux (Continued)\n  Ogier, the Dane\n  Ogier, the Dane (Continued)\n  Ogier, the Dane (Continued)\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\n\n\n\nLEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThose who have investigated the origin of the romantic fables relating\nto Charlemagne and his peers are of opinion that the deeds of Charles\nMartel, and perhaps of other Charleses, have been blended in popular\ntradition with those properly belonging to Charlemagne. It was indeed a\nmost momentous era; and if our readers will have patience, before\nentering on the perusal of the fabulous annals which we are about to\nlay before them, to take a rapid survey of the real history of the\ntimes, they will find it hardly less romantic than the tales of the\npoets.\n\nIn the century beginning from the year 600, the countries bordering\nupon the native land of our Saviour, to the east and south, had not yet\nreceived his religion. Arabia was the seat of an idolatrous religion\nresembling that of the ancient Persians, who worshipped the sun, moon,\nand stars. In Mecca, in the year 571, Mahomet was born, and here, at\nthe age of forty, he proclaimed himself the prophet of God, in dignity\nas superior to Christ as Christ had been to Moses. Having obtained by\nslow degrees a considerable number of disciples, he resorted to arms to\ndiffuse his religion. The energy and zeal of his followers, aided by\nthe weakness of the neighboring nations, enabled him and his successors\nto spread the sway of Arabia and the religion of Mahomet over the\ncountries to the east as far as the Indus, northward over Persia and\nAsia Minor, westward over Egypt and the southern shores of the\nMediterranean, and thence over the principal portion of Spain. All this\nwas done within one hundred years from the Hegira, or flight of Mahomet\nfrom Mecca to Medina, which happened in the year 622, and is the era\nfrom which Mahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of Christ.\n\nFrom Spain the way was open for the Saracens (so the followers of\nMahomet were called) into France, the conquest of which, if achieved,\nwould have been followed very probably by that of all the rest of\nEurope, and would have resulted in the banishment of Christianity from\nthe earth. For Christianity was not at that day universally professed,\neven by those nations which we now regard as foremost in civilization.\nGreat part of Germany, Britain, Denmark, and Russia were still pagan or\nbarbarous.\n\nAt that time there ruled in France, though without the title of king,\nthe first of those illustrious Charleses of whom we have spoken,\nCharles Martel, the grandfather of Charlemagne. The Saracens of Spain\nhad made incursions into France in 712 and 718, and had retired,\ncarrying with them a vast booty. In 725, Anbessa, who was then the\nSaracen governor of Spain, crossed the Pyrenees with a numerous army,\nand took by storm the strong town of Carcassone. So great was the\nterror excited by this invasion, that the country for a wide extent\nsubmitted to the conqueror, and a Mahometan governor for the province\nwas appointed and installed at Narbonne. Anbessa, however, received a\nfatal wound in one of his engagements, and the Saracens, being thus\nchecked from further advance, retired to Narbonne.\n\nIn 732 the Saracens again invaded France under Abdalrahman, advanced\nrapidly to the banks of the Garonne, and laid siege to Bordeaux. The\ncity was taken by assault and delivered up to the soldiery. The\ninvaders still pressed forward, and spread over the territories of\nOrleans, Auxerre and Sens. Their advanced parties were suddenly called\nin by their chief, who had received information of the rich abbey of\nSt. Martin of Tours, and resolved to plunder and destroy it.\n\nCharles during all this time had done nothing to oppose the Saracens,\nfor the reason that the portion of France over which their incursions\nhad been made was not at that time under his dominion, but constituted\nan independent kingdom, under the name of Aquitaine, of which Eude was\nking. But now Charles became convinced of the danger, and prepared to\nencounter it. Abdalrahman was advancing toward Tours, when intelligence\nof the approach of Charles, at the head of an army of Franks, compelled\nhim to fall back upon Poitiers, in order to seize an advantageous field\nof battle.\n\nCharles Martel had called together his warriors from every part of his\ndominions, and, at the head of such an army as had hardly ever been\nseen in France, crossed the Loire, probably at Orleans, and, being\njoined by the remains of the army of Aquitaine, came in sight of the\nArabs in the month of October, 732. The Saracens seem to have been\naware of the terrible enemy they were now to encounter, and for the\nfirst time these formidable conquerors hesitated. The two armies\nremained in presence during seven days before either ventured to begin\nthe attack; but at length the signal for battle was given by\nAbdalrahman, and the immense mass of the Saracen army rushed with fury\non the Franks. But the heavy line of the Northern warriors remained\nlike a rock, and the Saracens, during nearly the whole day, expended\ntheir strength in vain attempts to make any impression upon them. At\nlength, about four o'clock in the afternoon, when Abdalrahman was\npreparing for a new and desperate attempt to break the line of the\nFranks, a terrible clamor was heard in the rear of the Saracens. It was\nKing Eude, who, with his Aquitanians, had attacked their camp, and a\ngreat part of the Saracen army rushed tumultuously from the field to\nprotect their plunder. In this moment of confusion the line of the\nFranks advanced, and, sweeping the field before it, carried fearful\nslaughter amongst the enemy. Abdalrahman made desperate efforts to\nrally his troops, but when he himself, with the bravest of his\nofficers, fell beneath the swords of the Christians, all order\ndisappeared, and the remains of his army sought refuge in their immense\ncamp, from which Eude and his Aquitanians had been repulsed. It was now\nlate, and Charles, unwilling to risk an attack on the camp in the dark,\nwithdrew his army, and passed the night in the plain, expecting to\nrenew the battle in the morning.\n\nAccordingly, when daylight came, the Franks drew up in order of battle,\nbut no enemy appeared; and when at last they ventured to approach the\nSaracen camp they found it empty. The invaders had taken advantage of\nthe night to begin their retreat, and were already on their way back to\nSpain, leaving their immense plunder behind to fall into the hands of\nthe Franks.\n\nThis was the celebrated battle of Tours, in which vast numbers of the\nSaracens were slain, and only fifteen hundred of the Franks. Charles\nreceived the surname of Martel (the Hammer) in consequence of this\nvictory.\n\nThe Saracens, notwithstanding this severe blow, continued to hold their\nground in the south of France; but Pepin, the son of Charles Martel,\nwho succeeded to his father's power, and assumed the title of king,\nsuccessively took from them the strong places they held; and in 759, by\nthe capture of Narbonne, their capital, extinguished the remains of\ntheir power in France.\n\nCharlemagne, or Charles the Great, succeeded his father, Pepin, on the\nthrone in the year 768. This prince, though the hero of numerous\nromantic legends, appears greater in history than in fiction. Whether\nwe regard him as a warrior or as a legislator, as a patron of learning\nor as the civilizer of a barbarous nation, he is entitled to our\nwarmest admiration. Such he is in history; but the romancers represent\nhim as often weak and passionate, the victim of treacherous\ncounsellors, and at the mercy of turbulent barons, on whose prowess he\ndepends for the maintenance of his throne. The historical\nrepresentation is doubtless the true one, for it is handed down in\ntrustworthy records, and is confirmed by the events of the age. At the\nheight of his power, the French empire extended over what we now call\nFrance, Germany, Switzerland, Holland, Belgium, and great part of Italy.\n\nIn the year 800 Charlemagne, being in Rome, whither he had gone with a\nnumerous army to protect the Pope, was crowned by the Pontiff Emperor\nof the West. On Christmas day Charles entered the Church of St. Peter,\nas if merely to take his part in the celebration of the mass with the\nrest of the congregation. When he approached the altar and stooped in\nthe act of prayer the Pope stepped forward and placed a crown of gold\nupon his head; and immediately the Roman people shouted, \"Life and\nvictory to Charles the August, crowned by God the great and pacific\nEmperor of the Romans.\" The Pope then prostrated himself before him,\nand paid him reverence, according to the custom established in the\ntimes of the ancient Emperors, and concluded the ceremony by anointing\nhim with consecrated oil.\n\nCharlemagne's wars were chiefly against the pagan and barbarous people,\nwho, under the name of Saxons, inhabited the countries now called\nHanover and Holland. He also led expeditions against the Saracens of\nSpain; but his wars with the Saracens were not carried on, as the\nromances assert, in France, but on the soil of Spain. He entered Spain\nby the Eastern Pyrenees, and made an easy conquest of Barcelona and\nPampeluna. But Saragossa refused to open her gates to him, and Charles\nended by negotiating and accepting a vast sum of gold as the price of\nhis return over the Pyrenees.\n\nOn his way back, he marched with his whole army through the gorges of\nthe mountains by way of the valleys of Engui, Eno, and Roncesvalles.\nThe chief of this region had waited upon Charlemagne, on his advance,\nas a faithful vassal of the monarchy; but now, on the return of the\nFranks, he had called together all the wild mountaineers who\nacknowledged him as their chief, and they occupied the heights of the\nmountains under which the army had to pass. The main body of the troops\nmet with no obstruction, and received no intimation of danger; but the\nrear-guard, which was considerably behind, and encumbered with its\nplunder, was overwhelmed by the mountaineers in the pass of\nRoncesvalles, and slain to a man. Some of the bravest of the Frankish\nchiefs perished on this occasion, among whom is mentioned Roland or\nOrlando, governor of the marches or frontier of Brittany. His name\nbecame famous in after times, and the disaster of Roncesvalles and\ndeath of Roland became eventually the most celebrated episode in the\nvast cycle of romance.\n\nThough after this there were hostile encounters between the armies of\nCharlemagne and the Saracens, they were of small account, and generally\non the soil of Spain. Thus the historical foundation for the stories of\nthe romancers is but scanty, unless we suppose the events of an earlier\nand of a later age to be incorporated with those of Charlemagne's own\ntime.\n\nThere is, however, a pretended history, which for a long time was\nadmitted as authentic, and attributed to Turpin, Archbishop of Rheims,\na real personage of the time of Charlemagne. Its title is \"History of\nCharles the Great and Orlando.\" It is now unhesitatingly considered as\na collection of popular traditions, produced by some credulous and\nunscrupulous monk, who thought to give dignity to his romance by\nascribing its authorship to a well-known and eminent individual. It\nintroduces its pretended author, Bishop Turpin, in this manner:\n\n\"Turpin, Archbishop of Rheims, the friend and secretary of Charles the\nGreat, excellently skilled in sacred and profane literature, of a\ngenius equally adapted to prose and verse, the advocate of the poor,\nbeloved of God in his life and conversation, who often fought the\nSaracens, hand to hand, by the Emperor's side, he relates the acts of\nCharles the Great in one book, and flourished under Charles and his son\nLouis, to the year of our Lord eight hundred and thirty.\"\n\nThe titles of some of Archbishop Turpin's chapters will show the nature\nof his history. They are these: \"Of the Walls of Pampeluna, that fell\nof themselves.\" \"Of the War of the holy Facundus, where the Spears\ngrew.\" (Certain of the Christians fixed their spears in the evening,\nerect in the ground, before the castle; and found them, in the morning,\ncovered with bark and branches.) \"How the Sun stood still for Three\nDays, and of the Slaughter of Four Thousand Saracens.\"\n\nTurpin's history has perhaps been the source of the marvellous\nadventures which succeeding poets and romancers have accumulated around\nthe names of Charlemagne and his Paladins, or Peers. But Ariosto and\nthe other Italian poets have drawn from different sources, and\ndoubtless often from their own invention, numberless other stories\nwhich they attribute to the same heroes, not hesitating to quote as\ntheir authority \"the good Turpin,\" though his history contains no trace\nof them; and the more outrageous the improbability, or rather the\nimpossibility, of their narrations, the more attentive are they to cite\n\"the Archbishop,\" generally adding their testimonial to his\nunquestionable veracity.\n\nThe principal Italian poets who have sung the adventures of the peers\nof Charlemagne are Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto. The characters of\nOrlando, Rinaldo, Astolpho, Gano, and others, are the same in all,\nthough the adventures attributed to them are different. Boiardo tells\nus of the loves of Orlando, Ariosto of his disappointment and\nconsequent madness, Pulci of his death.\n\nOgier, the Dane, is a real personage. History agrees with romance in\nrepresenting him as a powerful lord who, originally from Denmark and a\nPagan, embraced Christianity, and took service under Charlemagne. He\nrevolted from the Emperor, and was driven into exile. He afterwards led\none of those bands of piratical Northmen which ravaged France under the\nreigns of Charlemagne's degenerate successors. The description which an\nancient chronicler gives of Charlemagne, as described by Ogier, is so\npicturesque, that we are tempted to transcribe it. Charlemagne was\nadvancing to the siege of Pavia. Didier, King of the Lombards, was in\nthe city with Ogier, to whom he had given refuge. When they learned\nthat the king was approaching they mounted a high tower, whence they\ncould see far and wide over the country. \"They first saw advancing the\nengines of war, fit for the armies of Darius or Julius Caesar. 'There\nis Charlemagne,' said Didier. 'No,' said Ogier. The Lombard next saw a\nvast body of soldiers, who filled all the plain. 'Certainly Charles\nadvanced with that host,' said the king. 'Not yet,' replied Ogier.\n'What hope for us,' resumed the king, 'if he brings with him a greater\nhost than that?' At last Charles appeared, his head covered with an\niron helmet, his hands with iron gloves, his breast and shoulders with\na cuirass of iron, his left hand holding an iron lance, while his right\nhand grasped his sword. Those who went before the monarch, those who\nmarched at his side, and those who followed him, all had similar arms.\nIron covered the fields and the roads; iron points reflected the rays\nof the sun. This iron, so hard, was borne by a people whose hearts were\nharder still. The blaze of the weapons flashed terror into the streets\nof the city.\"\n\nThis picture of Charlemagne in his military aspect would be incomplete\nwithout a corresponding one of his \"mood of peace.\" One of the greatest\nof modern historians, M. Guizot, has compared the glory of Charlemagne\nto a brilliant meteor, rising suddenly out of the darkness of barbarism\nto disappear no less suddenly in the darkness of feudalism. But the\nlight of this meteor was not extinguished, and reviving civilization\nowed much that was permanently beneficial to the great Emperor of the\nFranks. His ruling hand is seen in the legislation of his time, as well\nas in the administration of the laws. He encouraged learning; he upheld\nthe clergy, who were the only peaceful and intellectual class, against\nthe encroaching and turbulent barons; he was an affectionate father,\nand watched carefully over the education of his children, both sons and\ndaughters. Of his encouragement of learning we will give some\nparticulars.\n\nHe caused learned men to be brought from Italy and from other foreign\ncountries to revive the public schools of France, which had been\nprostrated by the disorders of preceding times. He recompensed these\nlearned men liberally, and kept some of them near himself, honoring\nthem with his friendship. Of these the most celebrated is Alcuin, an\nEnglishman, whose writings still remain, and prove him to have been\nboth a learned and a wise man. With the assistance of Alcuin, and\nothers like him, he founded an academy or royal school, which should\nhave the direction of the studies of all the schools of the kingdom.\nCharlemagne himself was a member of this academy on equal terms with\nthe rest. He attended its meetings, and fulfilled all the duties of an\nacademician. Each member took the name of some famous man of antiquity.\nAlcuin called himself Horace, another took the name of Augustin, a\nthird of Pindar. Charlemagne, who knew the Psalms by heart, and who had\nan ambition to be, according to his conception, A KING AFTER GOD'S OWN\nHEART, received from his brother academicians the name of David.\n\nOf the respect entertained for him by foreign nations an interesting\nproof is afforded in the embassy sent to him by the Caliph of the\nArabians, the celebrated Haroun al Raschid, a prince in character and\nconduct not unlike to Charlemagne. The ambassadors brought with them,\nbesides other rich presents, a clock, the first that was seen in\nEurope, which excited universal admiration. It had the form of a\ntwelve-sided edifice with twelve doors. These doors formed niches, in\neach of which was a little statue representing one of the hours. At the\nstriking of the hour the doors, one for each stroke, was seen to open,\nand from the doors to issue as many of the little statues, which,\nfollowing one another, marched gravely round the tower. The motion of\nthe clock was caused by water, and the striking was effected by balls\nof brass equal to the number of the hours, which fell upon a cymbal of\nthe same metal, the number falling being determined by the discharge of\nthe water, which, as it sunk in the vessel, allowed their escape.\n\nCharlemagne was succeeded by his son Louis, a well-intentioned but\nfeeble prince, in whose reign the fabric reared by Charles began\nrapidly to crumble. Louis was followed successively by two Charleses,\nincapable princes, whose weak and often tyrannical conduct is no doubt\nthe source of incidents of that character ascribed in the romances to\nCharlemagne.\n\nThe lawless and disobedient deportment of Charles's paladins, instances\nof which are so frequent in the romantic legends, was also a trait of\nthe declining empire, but not of that of Charlemagne.\n\n\n\nTHE PEERS, OR PALADINS\n\nThe twelve most illustrious knights of Charlemagne were called Peers,\nfor the equality that reigned among them; while the name of Paladins,\nalso conferred on them, implies that they were inmates of the palace\nand companions of the king. Their names are always given alike by the\nromancers, yet we may enumerate the most distinguished of them as\nfollows: Orlando or Roland (the former the Italian, the latter the\nFrench form of the name), favorite nephew of Charlemagne; Rinaldo of\nMontalban, cousin of Orlando; Namo, Duke of Bavaria; Salomon, king of\nBrittany; Turpin, the Archbishop; Astolpho, of England; Ogier, the\nDane; Malagigi, the Enchanter; and Florismart, the friend of Orlando.\nThere were others who are sometimes named as paladins, and the number\ncannot be strictly limited to twelve. Charlemagne himself must be\ncounted one, and Ganelon, or Gano, of Mayence, the treacherous enemy of\nall the rest, was rated high on the list by his deluded sovereign, who\nwas completely the victim of his arts.\n\nWe shall introduce more particularly to our readers a few of the\nprincipal peers, leaving the others to make their own introduction as\nthey appear in the course of our narrative. We begin with Orlando.\n\n\n\nORLANDO\n\nMilon, or Milone, a knight of great family, and distantly related to\nCharlemagne, having secretly married Bertha, the Emperor's sister, was\nbanished from France, and excommunicated by the Pope. After a long and\nmiserable wandering on foot as mendicants Milon and his wife arrived at\nSutri, in Italy, where they took refuge in a cave, and in that cave\nOrlando was born. There his mother continued, deriving a scanty support\nfrom the compassion of the neighboring peasants; while Milon, in quest\nof honor and fortune, went into foreign lands. Orlando grew up among\nthe children of the peasantry, surpassing them all in strength and\nmanly graces. Among his companions in age, though in station far more\nelevated, was Oliver, son of the governor of the town. Between the two\nboys a feud arose that led to a fight, in which Orlando thrashed his\nrival; but this did not prevent a friendship springing up between the\ntwo, which lasted through life.\n\nOrlando was so poor that he was sometimes half naked. As he was a\nfavorite of the boys, one day four of them brought some cloth to make\nhim clothes. Two brought white and two red; and from this circumstance\nOrlando took his coat-of-arms, or quarterings.\n\nWhen Charlemagne was on his way to Rome to receive the imperial crown\nhe dined in public in Sutri. Orlando and his mother that day had\nnothing to eat, and Orlando coming suddenly upon the royal party, and\nseeing abundance of provisions, seized from the attendants as much as\nhe could carry off, and made good his retreat in spite of their\nresistance. The Emperor, being told of this incident, was reminded of\nan intimation he had received in a dream, and ordered the boy to be\nfollowed. This was done by three of the knights, whom Orlando would\nhave encountered with a cudgel on their entering the grotto, had not\nhis mother restrained him. When they heard from her who she was they\nthrew themselves at her feet, and promised to obtain her pardon from\nthe Emperor. This was easily effected. Orlando was received into favor\nby the Emperor, returned with him to France, and so distinguished\nhimself that he became the most powerful support of the throne and of\nChristianity. [Footnote: It is plain that Shakspeare borrowed from this\nsource the similar incident in his \"As you Like it.\" The names of\ncharacters in the play, Orlando, Oliver, Rowland indicate the same\nthing.]\n\n\n\nROLAND AND FERRAGUS\n\nOrlando, or Roland, particularly distinguished himself by his combat\nwith Ferragus. Ferragus was a giant, and moreover his skin was of such\nimpenetrable stuff that no sword could make any impression upon it. The\ngiant's mode of fighting was to seize his adversary in his arms and\ncarry him off, in spite of all the struggles he could make. Roland's\nutmost skill only availed to keep him out of the giant's clutches, but\nall his efforts to wound him with the sword were useless. After long\nfighting Ferragus was so weary that he proposed a truce, and when it\nwas agreed upon he lay down and immediately fell asleep. He slept in\nperfect security, for it was against all the laws of chivalry to take\nadvantage of an adversary under such circumstances. But Ferragus lay so\nuncomfortably for the want of a pillow that Orlando took pity upon him,\nand brought a smooth stone and placed it under his head. When the giant\nwoke up, after a refreshing nap, and perceived what Orlando had done,\nhe seemed quite grateful, became sociable, and talked freely in the\nusual boastful style of such characters. Among other things he told\nOrlando that he need not attempt to kill him with a sword, for that\nevery part of his body was invulnerable, except this; and as he spoke,\nhe put his hand to the vital part, just in the middle of his breast.\nAided by this information Orlando succeeded, when the fight was\nrenewed, in piercing the giant in the very spot he had pointed out, and\ngiving him a death-wound. Great was the rejoicing in the Christian\ncamp, and many the praises showered upon the victorious paladin by the\nEmperor and all his host.\n\nOn another occasion Orlando encountered a puissant Saracen warrior, and\ntook from him, as the prize of victory, the sword Durindana. This\nfamous weapon had once belonged to the illustrious prince Hector of\nTroy. It was of the finest workmanship, and of such strength and temper\nthat no armor in the world could stand against it.\n\n\n\nA ROLAND FOR AN OLIVER\n\nGuerin de Montglave held the lordship of Vienne, subject to\nCharlemagne. He had quarrelled with his sovereign, and Charles laid\nsiege to his city, having ravaged the neighboring country. Guerin was\nan aged warrior, but relied for his defence upon his four sons and two\ngrandsons, who were among the bravest knights of the age. After the\nsiege had continued two months Charlemagne received tidings that\nMarsilius, king of Spain, had invaded France, and, finding himself\nunopposed, was advancing rapidly in the Southern provinces. At this\nintelligence Charles listened to the counsel of his peers, and\nconsented to put the quarrel with Guerin to the decision of Heaven, by\nsingle combat between two knights, one of each party, selected by lot.\nThe proposal was acceptable to Guerin and his sons. The names of the\nfour, together with Guerin's own, who would not be excused, and of the\ntwo grandsons, who claimed their lot, being put into a helmet, Oliver's\nwas drawn forth, and to him, the youngest of the grandsons, was\nassigned the honor and the peril of the combat. He accepted the award\nwith delight, exulting in being thought worthy to maintain the cause of\nhis family. On Charlemagne's side Roland was the designated champion,\nand neither he nor Oliver knew who his antagonist was to be.\n\nThey met on an island in the Rhone, and the warriors of both camps were\nranged on either shore, spectators of the battle. At the first\nencounter both lances were shivered, but both riders kept their seats,\nimmovable. They dismounted, and drew their swords. Then ensued a combat\nwhich seemed so equal, that the spectators could not form an opinion as\nto the probable issue. Two hours and more the knights continued to\nstrike and parry, to thrust and ward, neither showing any sign of\nweariness, nor ever being taken at unawares. At length Orlando struck\nfuriously upon Oliver's shield, burying Durindana in its edge so deeply\nthat he could not draw it back, and Oliver, almost at the same moment,\nthrust so vigorously upon Orlando's breastplate that his sword snapped\noff at the handle. Thus were the two warriors left weaponless. Scarcely\npausing a moment, they rushed upon one another, each striving to throw\nhis adversary to the ground, and failing in that, each snatched at the\nother's helmet to tear it away. Both succeeded, and at the same moment\nthey stood bare-headed face to face, and Roland recognized Oliver, and\nOliver Roland. For a moment they stood still; and the next, with open\narms, rushed into one another's embrace. \"I am conquered,\" said\nOrlando. \"I yield me.\" said Oliver.\n\nThe people on the shore knew not what to make of all this. Presently\nthey saw the two late antagonists standing hand in hand, and it was\nevident the battle was at an end. The knights crowded round them, and\nwith one voice hailed them as equals in glory. If there were any who\nfelt disposed to murmur that the battle was left undecided they were\nsilenced by the voice of Ogier the Dane, who proclaimed aloud that all\nhad been done that honor required, and declared that he would maintain\nthat award against all gainsayers.\n\nThe quarrel with Guerin and his sons being left undecided, a truce was\nmade for four days, and in that time, by the efforts of Duke Namo on\nthe one side, and of Oliver on the other, a reconciliation was\neffected. Charlemagne, accompanied by Guerin and his valiant family,\nmarched to meet Marsilius, who hastened to retreat across the frontier.\n\n\n\nRINALDO\n\nRinaldo was one of the four sons of Aymon, who married Aya, the sister\nof Charlemagne. Thus Rinaldo was nephew to Charlemagne and cousin of\nOrlando.\n\nWhen Rinaldo had grown old enough to assume arms Orlando had won for\nhimself an illustrious name by his exploits against the Saracens, whom\nCharlemagne and his brave knights had driven out of France. Orlando's\nfame excited a noble emulation in Rinaldo. Eager to go in pursuit of\nglory, he wandered in the country near Paris, and one day saw at the\nfoot of a tree a superb horse, fully equipped and loaded with a\ncomplete suit of armor. Rinaldo clothed himself in the armor and\nmounted the horse, but took not the sword. On the day when, with his\nbrothers, he had received the honor of knighthood from the Emperor he\nhad sworn never to bind a sword to his side till he had wrested one\nfrom some famous knight.\n\nRinaldo took his way to the forest of Arden, celebrated for so many\nadventures. Hardly had he entered it when he met an old man, bending\nunder the weight of years, and learned from him that the forest was\ninfested with a wild horse, untamable, that broke and overturned\neverything that opposed his career. To attack him, he said, or even to\nmeet him, was certain death. Rinaldo, far from being alarmed, showed\nthe most eager desire to combat the animal. This was the horse Bayard,\nafterward so famous. He had formerly belonged to Amadis of Gaul. After\nthe death of that hero he had been held under enchantment by the power\nof a magician, who predicted that, when the time came to break the\nspell, he should be subdued by a knight of the lineage of Amadis, and\nnot less brave than he.\n\nTo win this wonderful horse it was necessary to conquer him by force or\nskill; for from the moment when he should be thrown down he would\nbecome docile and manageable. His habitual resort was a cave on the\nborders of the forest; but woe be to any one who should approach him,\nunless gifted with strength and courage more than mortal. Having told\nthis, the old man departed. He was not, in fact, an old man, but\nMalagigi, the enchanter, cousin of Rinaldo, who, to favor the\nenterprises of the young knight, had procured for him the horse and\narmor which he so opportunely found, and now put him in the way to\nacquire a horse unequalled in the world.\n\nRinaldo plunged into the forest, and spent many days in seeking Bayard,\nbut found no traces of him. One day he encountered a Saracen knight,\nwith whom he made acquaintance, as often happened to knights, by first\nmeeting him in combat. This knight, whose name was Isolier, was also in\nquest of Bayard. Rinaldo succeeded in the encounter, and so severe was\nthe shock that Isolier was a long time insensible. When he revived, and\nwas about to resume the contest, a peasant who passed by (it was\nMalagigi) interrupted them with the news that the terrible horse was\nnear at hand, advising them to unite their powers to subdue him, for it\nwould require all their ability.\n\nRinaldo and Isolier, now become friends, proceeded together to the\nattack of the horse. They found Bayard, and stood a long time,\nconcealed by the wood, admiring his strength and beauty.\n\nA bright bay in color (whence he was called Bayard), with a silver star\nin his forehead, and his hind feet white, his body slender, his head\ndelicate, his ample chest filled out with swelling muscles, his\nshoulders broad and full, his legs straight and sinewy, his thick mane\nfalling over his arching neck,--he came rushing through the forest,\nregardless of rocks, bushes, or trees, rending everything that opposed\nhis way, and neighing defiance.\n\nHe first descried Isolier, and rushed upon him. The knight received him\nwith lance in rest, but the fierce animal broke the spear, and his\ncourse was not delayed by it for an instant. The Spaniard adroitly\nstepped aside, and gave way to the rushing tempest. Bayard checked his\ncareer, and turned again upon the knight, who had already drawn his\nsword. He drew his sword, for he had no hope of taming the horse; that,\nhe was satisfied, was impossible.\n\nBayard rushed upon him; fiercely rearing, now on this side, now on\nthat. The knight struck him with his sword, where the white star\nadorned his forehead, but struck in vain, and felt ashamed, thinking\nthat he had struck feebly, for he did not know that the skin of that\nhorse was so tough that the keenest sword could make no impression upon\nit.\n\nWhistling fell the sword once more, and struck with greater force, and\nthe fierce horse felt it, and drooped his head under the blow, but the\nnext moment turned upon his foe with such a buffet that the Pagan fell\nstunned and lifeless to the earth.\n\nRinaldo, who saw Isolier fall, and thought that his life was reft,\ndarted towards the horse, and, with his fist gave him such a blow on\nthe jaws that the blood tinged his mouth with vermilion. Quicker than\nan arrow leaves the bow the horse turned upon him, and tried to seize\nhis arm with his teeth.\n\nThe knight stepped back, and then, repeating his blow, struck him on\nthe forehead. Bayard turned, and kicked with both his feet with a force\nthat would have shattered a mountain. Rinaldo was on his guard, and\nevaded his attacks, whether made with head or heels. He kept at his\nside avoiding both; but, making a false step, he at last received a\nterrible blow from the horse's foot, and at the shock almost fainted\naway. A second such blow would have killed him, but the horse kicked at\nrandom, and a second blow did not reach Rinaldo, who in a moment\nrecovered himself. Thus the contest continued until by chance Bayard's\nfoot got caught between the branches of an oak. Rinaldo seized it and\nputting forth all his strength and address, threw him on the ground.\n\nNo sooner had Bayard touched the ground than all his rage subsided. No\nlonger an object of terror, he became gentle and quiet, yet with\ndignity in his mildness.\n\nThe paladin patted his neck, stroked his breast, and smoothed his mane,\nwhile the animal neighed and showed delight to be caressed by his\nmaster. Rinaldo, seeing him now completely subdued, took the saddle and\ntrappings from the other horse, and adorned Bayard with the spoils.\n\nRinaldo became one of the most illustrious knights of Charlemagne's\ncourt,--indeed, the most illustrious, if we except Orlando. Yet he was\nnot always so obedient to the Emperor's commands as he should have\nbeen, and every fault he committed was sure to be aggravated by the\nmalice of Gan, Duke of Maganza, the treacherous enemy of Rinaldo and\nall his house.\n\nAt one time Rinaldo had incurred the severe displeasure of Charlemagne,\nand been banished from court. Seeing no chance of being ever restored\nto favor, he went to Spain, and entered into the service of the Saracen\nking, Ivo. His brothers, Alardo, Ricardo, and Ricciardetto, accompanied\nhim, and all four served the king so faithfully that they rose to high\nfavor with him. The king gave them land in the mountains on the\nfrontiers of France and Spain, and subjected all the country round to\nRinaldo's authority. There was plenty of marble in the mountains, the\nking furnished workmen, and they built a castle for Rinaldo, surrounded\nwith high walls, so as to be almost impregnable. Built of white stone,\nand placed on the brow of a marble promontory, the castle shone like a\nstar, and Rinaldo gave it the name of Montalban. Here he assembled his\nfriends, many of whom were banished men like himself, and the country\npeople furnished them with provisions in return for the protection the\ncastle afforded. Yet some of Rinaldo's men were lawless, and sometimes\nthe supplies were not furnished in sufficient abundance, so that\nRinaldo and his garrison got a bad name for taking by force what they\ncould not obtain by gift; and we sometimes find Montalban spoken of as\na nest of freebooters, and its defenders called a beggarly garrison.\n\nCharlemagne's displeasure did not last long, and, at the time our\nhistory commences, Rinaldo and his brothers were completely restored to\nthe favor of the Emperor, and none of his cavaliers served him with\ngreater zeal and fidelity than they, throughout all his wars with the\nSaracens and Pagans.\n\n\n\nTHE TOURNAMENT\n\nIt was the month of May, and the feast of Pentecost. Charlemagne had\nordered magnificent festivities, and summoned to them, besides his\npaladins and vassals of the crown, all strangers, Christian or Saracen,\nthen sojourning at Paris. Among the guests were King Grandonio, from\nSpain; and Ferrau, the Saracen, with eyes like an eagle; Orlando and\nRinaldo, the Emperor's nephews; Duke Namo; Astolpho, of England, the\nhandsomest man living; Malagigi, the Enchanter; and Gano, of Maganza,\nthat wily traitor, who had the art to make the Emperor think he loved\nhim, while he plotted against him.\n\nHigh sat Charlemagne at the head of his vassals and his paladins,\nrejoicing in the thought of their number and their might, while all\nwere sitting and hearing music, and feasting, when suddenly there came\ninto the hall four enormous giants, having between them a lady of\nincomparable beauty, attended by a single knight. There were many\nladies present who had seemed beautiful till she made her appearance,\nbut after that they all seemed nothing. Every Christian knight turned\nhis eyes to her, and every Pagan crowded round her, while she, with a\nsweetness that might have touched a heart of stone, thus addressed the\nEmperor:\n\n\"High-minded lord, the renown of your worthiness, and of the valor of\nthese your knights, which echoes from sea to sea, encourages me to hope\nthat two pilgrims, who have come from the ends of the world to behold\nyou, will not have encountered their fatigue in vain. And, before I\nshow the motive which has brought us hither, learn that this knight is\nmy brother Uberto, and that I am his sister Angelica. Fame has told us\nof the jousting this day appointed, and so the prince my brother has\ncome to prove his valor, and to say that, if any of the knights here\nassembled choose to meet him in the joust, he will encounter them, one\nby one, at the stair of Merlin, by the Fountain of the Pine. And his\nconditions are these: No knight who chances to be thrown shall be\nallowed to renew the combat, but shall remain prisoner to my brother;\nbut if my brother be overthrown he shall depart out of the country,\nleaving me as the prize of the conqueror.\"\n\nNow it must be stated that this Angelica and her brother, who called\nhimself Uberto, but whose real name was Argalia, were the children of\nGalafron, king of Cathay, who had sent them to be the destruction of\nthe Christian host; for Argalia was armed with an enchanted lance,\nwhich unfailingly overthrew everything it touched, and he was mounted\non a horse, a creature of magic, whose swiftness outstripped the wind.\nAngelica possessed also a ring which was a defence against all\nenchantments, and when put into the mouth rendered the bearer\ninvisible. Thus Argalia was expected to subdue and take prisoners\nwhatever knights should dare to encounter him; and the charms of\nAngelica were relied on to entice the paladins to make the fatal\nventure, while her ring would afford her easy means of escape.\n\nWhen Angelica ceased sneaking she knelt before the king and awaited his\nanswer, and everybody gazed on her with admiration. Orlando especially\nfelt irresistibly drawn towards her, so that he trembled and changed\ncountenance. Every knight in the hall was infected with the same\nfeeling, not excepting old white-headed Duke Namo and Charlemagne\nhimself.\n\nAll stood for a while in silence, lost in the delight of looking at\nher. The fiery youth Ferrau could hardly restrain himself from seizing\nher from the giants and carrying her away; Rinaldo turned as red as\nfire, while Malagigi, who had discovered by his art that the stranger\nwas not speaking truth, muttered softly, as he looked at her,\n\"Exquisite false creature! I will play thee such a trick for this, as\nwill leave thee no cause to boast of thy visit.\"\n\nCharlemagne, to detain her as long as possible before him, delayed his\nassent till he had asked her a number of questions, all which she\nanswered discreetly, and then the challenge was accepted.\n\nAs soon as she was gone Malagigi consulted his book, and found out the\nwhole plot of the vile, infidel king, Galafron, as we have explained\nit, so he determined to seek the damsel and frustrate her designs. He\nhastened to the appointed spot, and there found the prince and his\nsister in a beautiful pavilion, where they lay asleep, while the four\ngiants kept watch. Malagigi took his book and cast a spell out of it,\nand immediately the four giants fell into a deep sleep. Drawing his\nsword (for he was a belted knight), he softly approached the young\nlady, intending to despatch her at once; but, seeing her look so\nlovely, he paused for a moment, thinking there was no need of hurry, as\nhe believed his spell was upon her, and she could not wake. But the\nring which she wore secured her from the effect of the spell, and some\nslight noise, or whatever else it was, caused her at that moment to\nawake. She uttered a great cry, and flew to her brother, and waked him.\nBy the help of her knowledge of enchantment, they took and bound fast\nthe magician, and, seizing his book, turned his arts against himself.\nThen they summoned a crowd of demons, and bade them seize their\nprisoner and bear him to King Galafron, at his great city of Albracca,\nwhich they did, and, on his arrival, he was locked up in a rock under\nthe sea.\n\nWhile these things were going on all was uproar at Paris, since Orlando\ninsisted upon being the first to try the adventure at the stair of\nMerlin. This was resented by the other pretenders to Angelica, and all\ncontested his right to the precedence. The tumult was stilled by the\nusual expedient of drawing lots, and the first prize was drawn by\nAstolpho. Ferrau, the Saracen, had the second, and Grandonio the third.\nNext came Berlinghieri, and Otho; then Charles himself, and, as his\nill-fortune would have it, after thirty more, the indignant Orlando.\n\nAstolpho, who drew the first lot, was handsome, brave, and rich. But,\nwhether from heedlessness or want of skill, he was an unlucky jouster,\nand very apt to be thrown, an accident which he bore with perfect\ngood-humor, always ready to mount again and try to mend his fortune,\ngenerally with no better success.\n\nAstolpho went forth upon his adventure with great gayety of dress and\nmanner, encountered Argalia, and was immediately tilted out of the\nsaddle. He railed at fortune, to whom he laid all the fault; but his\npainful feelings were somewhat relieved by the kindness of Angelica,\nwho, touched by his youth and good looks, granted him the liberty of\nthe pavilion, and caused him to be treated with all kindness and\nrespect.\n\nThe violent Ferrau had the next chance in the encounter, and was thrown\nno less speedily than Astolpho; but he did not so easily put up with\nhis mischance. Crying out, \"What are the emperor's engagements to me?\"\nhe rushed with his sword against Argalia, who, being forced to defend\nhimself, dismounted and drew his sword, but got so much the worse of\nthe fight that he made a signal of surrender, and, after some words,\nlistened to a proposal of marriage from Ferrau to his sister. The\nbeauty, however, feeling no inclination to match with such a rough and\nsavage-looking person, was so dismayed at the offer, that, hastily\nbidding her brother to meet her in the forest of Arden, she vanished\nfrom the sight of both by means of the enchanted ring. Argalia, seeing\nthis, took to his horse of swiftness, and dashed away in the same\ndirection. Ferrau pursued him, and Astolpho, thus left to himself, took\npossession of the enchanted lance in place of his own, which was\nbroken, not knowing the treasure he possessed in it, and returned to\nthe tournament. Charlemagne, finding the lady and her brother gone,\nordered the jousting to proceed as at first intended, in which\nAstolpho, by aid of the enchanted lance, unhorsed all comers against\nhim, equally to their astonishment and his own.\n\nThe paladin Rinaldo, on learning the issue of the combat of Ferrau and\nthe stranger, galloped after the fair fugitive in an agony of love and\nimpatience. Orlando, perceiving his disappearance, pushed forth in like\nmanner; and, at length, all three are in the forest of Arden, hunting\nabout for her who is invisible.\n\nNow in this forest there were two fountains, the one constructed by the\nsage Merlin, who designed it for Tristram and the fair Isoude;\n[Footnote: See their story in \"King Arthur and His Knights.\"] for such\nwas the virtue of this fountain, that a draught of its waters produced\non oblivion of the love which the drinker might feel, and even produced\naversion for the object formerly beloved. The other fountain was\nendowed with exactly opposite qualities, and a draught of it inspired\nlove for the first living object that was seen after tasting it.\nRinaldo happened to come to the first mentioned fountain, and, being\nflushed with heat, dismounted, and quenched in one draught both his\nthirst and his passion. So far from loving Angelica as before he hated\nher from the bottom of his heart, became disgusted with the search he\nwas upon, and, feeling fatigued with his ride, finding a sheltered and\nflowery nook, laid himself down and fell asleep.\n\nShortly after came Angelica, but, approaching in a different direction,\nshe espied the other fountain, and there quenched her thirst. Then\nresuming her way, she came upon the sleeping Rinaldo. Love instantly\nseized her, and she stood rooted to the spot.\n\nThe meadow round was all full of lilies of the valley and wild roses.\nAngelica, not knowing what to do, at length plucked a handful of these,\nand dropped them, one by one, on the face of the sleeper. He woke up,\nand, seeing who it was, received her salutations with averted\ncountenance, remounted his horse, and galloped away. In vain the\nbeautiful creature followed and called after him, in vain asked him\nwhat she had done to be so despised. Rinaldo disappeared, leaving her\nin despair, and she returned in tears to the spot where she had found\nhim sleeping. There, in her turn, she herself lay down, pressing the\nspot of earth on which he had lain, and, out of fatigue and sorrow,\nfell asleep.\n\nAs Angelica thus lay, fortune conducted Orlando to the same place. The\nattitude in which she was sleeping was so lovely that it is not to be\nconceived, much less expressed. Orlando stood gazing like a man who had\nbeen transported to another sphere. \"Am I on earth,\" he exclaimed, \"or\nam I in Paradise? Surely it is I that sleep, and this is my dream.\"\n\nBut his dream was proved to be none in a manner which he little\ndesired. Ferrau, who had slain Argalia, came up, raging with jealousy,\nand a combat ensued which awoke the sleeper.\n\nTerrified at what she beheld, she rushed to her palfrey, and, while the\nfighters were occupied with one another, fled away through the forest.\nThe champions continued their fight till they were interrupted by a\nmessenger, who brought word to Ferrau that king Marsilius, his\nsovereign, was in pressing need of his assistance, and conjured him to\nreturn to Spain. Ferrau, upon this, proposed to suspend the combat, to\nwhich Orlando, eager to pursue Angelica, agreed. Ferrau, on the other\nhand, departed with the messenger to Spain.\n\nOrlando's quest for the fair fugitive was all in vain. Aided by the\npowers of magic, she made a speedy return to her own country.\n\nBut the thought of Rinaldo could not be banished from her mind, and she\ndetermined to set Malagigi at liberty, and to employ him to win\nRinaldo, if possible, to make her a return of affection. She\naccordingly freed him from his dungeon, unlocking his fetters with her\nown hands, and restored him his book, promising him ample honors and\nrewards on condition of his bringing Rinaldo to her feet.\n\nMalagigi accordingly, with the aid of his book, called up a demon,\nmounted him, and departed. Arrived at his destination, he inveigled\nRinaldo into an enchanted bark, which conveyed him, without any visible\npilot, to an island where stood an edifice called Joyous Castle. The\nwhole island was a garden. On the western side, close to the sea, was\nthe palace, built of marble, so clear and polished that it reflected\nthe landscape about it. Rinaldo leapt ashore, and soon met a lady, who\ninvited him to enter. The house was as beautiful within as without,\nfull of rooms adorned with azure and gold, and with noble paintings.\nThe lady led the knight into an apartment painted with stories, and\nopening to the garden, through pillars of crystal, with golden\ncapitals. Here he found a bevy of ladies, three of whom were singing in\nconcert, while another played on an instrument of exquisite accord, and\nthe rest danced round about them. When the ladies beheld him coming\nthey turned the dance into a circuit round him, and then one of them,\nin the sweetest manner, said, \"Sir knight, the tables are set, and the\nhour for the banquet is come;\" and, with these words, still dancing,\nthey drew him across the lawn in front of the apartment, to a table\nthat was spread with cloth of gold and fine linen, under a bower of\ndamask roses by the side of a fountain.\n\nFour ladies were already seated there, who rose, and placed Rinaldo at\ntheir head, in a chair set with pearls. And truly indeed was he\nastonished. A repast ensued, consisting of viands the most delicate,\nand wines as fragrant as they were fine, drunk out of jewelled cups;\nand, when it drew towards its conclusion, harps and lutes were heard in\nthe distance, and one of the ladies said in the knight's ear: \"This\nhouse and all that you see in it are yours; for you alone was it built,\nand the builder is a queen. Happy indeed must you think yourself, for\nshe loves you, and she is the greatest beauty in the world! Her name is\nAngelica.\"\n\nThe moment Rinaldo heard the name he so detested he started up, with a\nchanged countenance, and, in spite of all that the lady could say,\nbroke off across the garden, and never ceased hastening till he reached\nthe place where he landed. The bark was still on the shore. He sprang\ninto it, and pushed off, though he saw nobody in it but himself. It was\nin vain for him to try to control its movements, for it dashed on as if\nin fury, till it reached a distant shore covered with a gloomy forest.\nHere Rinaldo, surrounded by enchantments of a very different sort from\nthose which he had lately resisted, was entrapped into a pit.\n\nThe pit belonged to a castle called Altaripa, which was hung with human\nheads, and painted red with blood. As the paladin was viewing the scene\nwith amazement a hideous old woman made her appearance at the edge of\nthe pit, and told him that he was destined to be thrown to a monster,\nwho was only kept from devastating the whole country by being supplied\nwith living human flesh. Rinaldo said, \"Be it so; let me but remain\narmed as I am, and I fear nothing.\" The old woman laughed in derision.\nRinaldo remained in the pit all night, and the next morning was taken\nto the place where the monster had his den. It was a court surrounded\nby a high wall. Rinaldo was shut in with the beast, and a terrible\ncombat ensued. Rinaldo was unable to make any impression on the scales\nof the monster, while he, on the contrary, with his dreadful claws,\ntore away plate and mail from the paladin. Rinaldo began to think his\nlast hour was come, and cast his eyes around and above to see if there\nwas any means of escape. He perceived a beam projecting from the wall\nat the height of some ten feet, and, taking a leap almost miraculous,\nhe succeeded in reaching it, and in flinging himself up across it. Here\nhe sat for hours, the hideous brute continually trying to reach him.\nAll at once he heard the sound of something coming through the air like\na bird, and suddenly Angelica herself alighted on the end of the beam.\nShe held something in her hand towards him, and spoke to him in a\nloving voice. But the moment Rinaldo saw her he commanded her to go\naway, refused all her offers of assistance, and at length declared\nthat, if she did not leave him, he would cast himself down to the\nmonster, and meet his fate.\n\nAngelica, saying she would lose her life rather than displease him,\ndeparted; but first she threw to the monster a cake of wax she had\nprepared, and spread around him a rope knotted with nooses. The beast\ntook the bait, and, finding his teeth glued together by the wax, vented\nhis fury in bounds and leaps, and, soon getting entangled in the\nnooses, drew them tight by his struggles, so that he could scarcely\nmove a limb.\n\nRinaldo, watching his chance, leapt down upon his back, seized him\nround the neck, and throttled him, not relaxing his gripe till the\nbeast fell dead.\n\nAnother difficulty remained to be overcome. The walls were of immense\nheight, and the only opening in them was a grated window of such\nstrength that he could not break the bars. In his distress Rinaldo\nfound a file, which Angelica had left on the ground, and, with the help\nof this, effected his deliverance.\n\nWhat further adventures he met with will be told in another chapter.\n\n\n\nTHE SIEGE OF ALBRACCA\n\nAt the very time when Charlemagne was holding his plenary court and his\ngreat tournament his kingdom was invaded by a mighty monarch, who was\nmoreover so valiant and strong in battle that no one could stand\nagainst him. He was named Gradasso, and his kingdom was called\nSericane. Now, as it often happens to the greatest and the richest to\nlong for what they cannot have, and thus to lose what they already\npossess, this king could not rest content without Durindana, the sword\nof Orlando, and Bayard, the horse of Rinaldo. To obtain these he\ndetermined to war upon France, and for this purpose put in array a\nmighty army.\n\nHe took his way through Spain, and, after defeating Marsilius, the king\nof that country, in several battles, was rapidly advancing on France.\nCharlemagne, though Marsilius was a Saracen, and had been his enemy,\nyet felt it needful to succor him in this extremity from a\nconsideration of common danger, and, with the consent of his peers,\ndespatched Rinaldo with a strong body of soldiers against Gradasso.\n\nThere was much fighting, with doubtful results, and Gradasso was\nsteadily advancing into France. But, impatient to achieve his objects,\nhe challenged Rinaldo to single combat, to be fought on foot, and upon\nthese conditions: If Rinaldo conquered, Gradasso agreed to give up all\nhis prisoners and return to his own country; but if Gradasso won the\nday, he was to have Bayard.\n\nThe challenge was accepted, and would have been fought had it not been\nfor the arts of Malagigi, who just then returned from Angelica's\nkingdom with set purpose to win Rinaldo to look with favor upon the\nfair princess who was dying for love of him. Malagigi drew Rinaldo away\nfrom the army by putting on the semblance of Gradasso, and, after a\nshort contest, pretending to fly before him, by which means Rinaldo was\ninduced to follow him into a boat, in which he was borne away, and\nentangled in various adventures, as we have already related.\n\nThe army, left under the command of Ricciardetto, Rinaldo's brother,\nwas soon joined by Charlemagne and all his peerage, but experienced a\ndisastrous rout, and the Emperor and many of his paladins were taken\nprisoners. Gradasso, however, did not abuse his victory; he took\nCharles by the hand, seated him by his side, and told him he warred\nonly for honor. He renounced all conquests, on condition that the\nEmperor should deliver to him Bayard and Durindana, both of them the\nproperty of his vassals, the former of which, as he maintained, was\nalready forfeited to him by Rinaldo's failure to meet him as agreed. To\nthese terms Charlemagne readily acceded.\n\nBayard, after the departure of his master, had been taken in charge by\nRicciardetto, and sent back to Paris, where Astolpho was in command, in\nthe absence of Charlemagne. Astolpho received with great indignation\nthe message despatched for Bayard, and replied by a herald that \"he\nwould not surrender the horse of his kinsman Rinaldo without a contest.\nIf Gradasso wanted the steed he might come and take him, and that he,\nAstolpho, was ready to meet him in the field.\"\n\nGradasso was only amused at this answer, for Astolpho's fame as a\nsuccessful warrior was not high, and Gradasso willingly renewed with\nhim the bargain which he had made with Rinaldo. On these conditions the\nbattle was fought. The enchanted lance, in the hands of Astolpho,\nperformed a new wonder; and Gradasso, the terrible Gradasso, was\nunhorsed.\n\nHe kept his word, set free his prisoners, and put his army on the march\nto return to his own country, renewing his oath, however, not to rest\ntill he had taken from Rinaldo his horse, and from Orlando his sword,\nor lost his life in the attempt.\n\nCharlemagne, full of gratitude to Astolpho, would have kept him near\nhis person and loaded him with honors, but Astolpho preferred to seek\nRinaldo, with the view of restoring to him his horse, and departed from\nParis with that design.\n\nOur story now returns to Orlando, whom we left fascinated with the\nsight of the sleeping beauty, who, however, escaped him while engaged\nin the combat with Ferrau. Having long sought her in vain through the\nrecesses of the wood, he resolved to follow her to her father's court.\nLeaving, therefore, the camp of Charlemagne, he travelled long in the\ndirection of the East, making inquiry everywhere, if, perchance, he\nmight get tidings of the fugitive. After many adventures, he arrived\none day at a place where many roads crossed, and meeting there a\ncourier, he asked him for news. The courier replied that he had been\ndespatched by Angelica to solicit the aid of Sacripant, king of\nCircassia, in favor of her father Galafron, who was besieged in his\ncity, Albracca, by Agrican, king of Tartary. This Agrican had been an\nunsuccessful suitor to the damsel, whom he now pursued with arms.\nOrlando thus learned that he was within a day's journey of Albracca;\nand, feeling now secure of Angelica, he proceeded with all speed to her\ncity.\n\nThus journeying he arrived at a bridge, under which flowed a foaming\nriver. Here a damsel met him with a goblet, and informed him that it\nwas the usage of this bridge to present the traveller with a cup.\nOrlando accepted the offered cup and drank its contents. He had no\nsooner done so than his brain reeled, and he became unconscious of the\nobject of his journey, and of everything else. Under the influence of\nthis fascination he followed the damsel into a magnificent and\nmarvellous palace. Here he found himself in company with many knights,\nunknown to him and to each other, though if it had not been for the Cup\nof Oblivion of which they all had partaken they would have found\nthemselves brothers in arms.\n\nAstolpho, proceeding on his way to seek Rinaldo, splendidly dressed and\nequipped, as was his wont, arrived in Circassia, and found there a\ngreat army encamped under the command of Sacripant, the king of that\ncountry, who was leading it to the defence of Galafron, the father of\nAngelica. Sacripant, much struck by the appearance of Astolpho and his\nhorse, accosted him courteously, and tried to enlist him in his\nservice; but Astolpho, proud of his late victories, scornfully declined\nhis offers, and pursued his way. King Sacripant was too much attracted\nby his appearance to part with him so easily, and having laid aside his\nkingly ornaments, set out in pursuit of him.\n\nAstolpho next day encountered on his way a stranger knight, named Sir\nFlorismart, Lord of the Sylvan Tower, one of the bravest and best of\nknights, having as his guide a damsel, young, fair, and virtuous, to\nwhom he was tenderly attached, whose name was Flordelis. Astolpho, as\nhe approached, defied the knight, bidding him yield the lady, or\nprepare to maintain his right by arms. Florismart accepted the contest,\nand the knights encountered. Florismart was unhorsed and his steed fell\ndead, while Bayard sustained no injury by the shock.\n\nFlorismart was so overwhelmed with despair at his own disgrace and the\nsight of the damsel's distress, that he drew his sword, and was about\nto plunge it into his own bosom. But Astolpho held his hand, told him\nthat he contended only for glory, and was contented to leave him the\nlady.\n\nWhile Florismart and Flordelis were vowing eternal gratitude King\nSacripant arrived, and coveting the damsel of the one champion as much\nas the horse and arms of the other, defied them to the joust. Astolpho\nmet the challenger, whom he instantly overthrew, and presented his\ncourser to Florismart, leaving the king to return to his army on foot.\n\nThe friends pursued their route, and ere long Flordelis discovered, by\nsigns which were known to her, that they were approaching the waters of\nOblivion, and advised them to turn back, or to change their course.\nThis the knights would not hear of, and, continuing their march, they\nsoon arrived at the bridge where Orlando had been taken prisoner.\n\nThe damsel of the bridge appeared as before with the enchanted cup, but\nAstolpho, forewarned, rejected it with scorn. She dashed it to the\nground, and a fire blazed up which rendered the bridge unapproachable.\nAt the same moment the two knights were assailed by sundry warriors,\nknown and unknown, who, having no recollection of anything, joined\nblindly in defence of their prison-house. Among these was Orlando, at\nsight of whom Astolpho, with all his confidence not daring to encounter\nhim, turned and fled, owing his escape to the strength and fleetness of\nBayard.\n\nFlorismart, meanwhile, overlaid by fearful odds, was compelled to yield\nto necessity, and comply with the usage of the fairy. He drank of the\ncup and remained prisoner with the rest. Flordelis, deprived of her two\nfriends, retired from the scene, and devoted herself to untiring\nefforts to effect her lover's deliverance. Astolpho pursued his way to\nAlbracca, which Agrican was about to besiege. He was kindly welcomed by\nAngelica, and enrolled among her defenders. Impatient to distinguish\nhimself, he one night sallied forth alone, arrived in Agrican's camp,\nand unhorsed his warriors right and left by means of the enchanted\nlance. But he was soon surrounded and overmatched, and made prisoner to\nAgrican.\n\nRelief was, however, at hand; for as the citizens and soldiers were one\nday leaning over their walls they descried a cloud of dust, from which\nhorsemen were seen to prick forth, as it rolled on towards the camp of\nthe besiegers. This turned out to be the army of Sacripant, which\nimmediately attacked that of Agrican, with the view of cutting a\npassage through his camp to the besieged city. But Agrican, mounted\nupon Bayard, taken from Astolpho, but not armed with the lance of gold,\nthe virtues of which were unknown to him, performed wonders, and\nrallied his scattered troops, which had given way to the sudden and\nunexpected assault. Sacripant, on the other hand, encouraged his men by\nthe most desperate acts of valor, having as an additional incentive to\nhis courage the sight of Angelica, who showed herself upon the city\nwalls.\n\nThere she witnessed a single combat between the two leaders, Agrican\nand Sacripant. In this, at length, her defender appeared to be\novermatched, when the Circassians broke the ring, and separated the\ncombatants, who were borne asunder in the rush. Sacripant, severely\nwounded, profited by the confusion, and escaped into Albracca, where he\nwas kindly received and carefully tended by Angelica.\n\nThe battle continuing, the Circassians were at last put to flight, and,\nbeing intercepted between the enemy's lines and the town, sought for\nrefuge under the walls. Angelica ordered the drawbridge to be let down,\nand the gates thrown open to the fugitives. With these Agrican, not\ndistinguished in the crowd, entered the place, driving both Circassians\nand Cathayans before him, and the portcullis being dropped, he was shut\nin.\n\nFor a time the terror which he inspired put to flight all opposers, but\nwhen at last it came to be known that few or none of his followers had\neffected an entrance with him, the fugitives rallied and surrounded him\non all sides. While he was thus apparently reduced to the last\nextremities, he was saved by the very circumstance which threatened him\nwith destruction. The soldiers of Angelica, closing upon him from all\nsides, deserted their defences; and his own besieging army entered the\ncity in a part where the wall was broken down.\n\nIn this way was Agrican rescued, the city taken, and the inhabitants\nput to the sword. Angelica, however, with some of the knights who were\nher defenders, among whom was Sacripant, saved herself in the citadel,\nwhich was planted upon a rock.\n\nThe fortress was impregnable, but it was scantily victualled, and ill\nprovided with other necessaries. Under these circumstances Angelica\nannounced to those blockaded with her in the citadel her intention to\ngo in quest of assistance, and, having plighted her promise of a speedy\nreturn, she set out, with the enchanted ring upon her finger. Mounted\nupon her palfrey, the damsel passed through the enemy's lines, and by\nsunrise was many miles clear of their encampment.\n\nIt so happened that her road led her near the fatal bridge of Oblivion,\nand as she approached it she met a damsel weeping bitterly. It was\nFlordelis, whose lover, Florismart, as we have related, had met the\nfate of Orlando and many more, and fallen a victim to the enchantress\nof the cup. She related her adventures to Angelica, and conjured her to\nlend what aid she might to rescue her lord and his companions.\nAngelica, accordingly, watching her opportunity and aided by her ring,\nslipped into the castle unseen, when the door was opened to admit a new\nvictim. Here she speedily disenchanted Orlando and the rest by a touch\nof her talisman. But Florismart was not there. He had been given up to\nFalerina, a more powerful enchantress, and was still in durance.\nAngelica conjured the rescued captives to assist her in the recovery of\nher kingdom, and all departed together for Albracca.\n\nThe arrival of Orlando, with his companions, nine in all, and among the\nbravest knights of France, changed at once the fortunes of the war.\nWherever the great paladin came, pennon and standard fell before him.\nAgrican in vain attempted to rally his troops. Orlando kept constantly\nin his front, forcing him to attend to nobody else. The Tartar king at\nlength bethought him of a stratagem. He turned his horse, and made a\nshow of flying in despair. Orlando dashed after him as he desired, and\nAgrican fled till he reached a green place in a wood, where there was a\nfountain.\n\nThe place was beautiful, and the Tartar dismounted to refresh himself\nat the fountain, but without taking off his helmet, or laying aside any\nof his armor. Orlando was quickly at his back, crying out, \"So bold,\nand yet a fugitive! How could you fly from a single arm and think to\nescape?\"\n\nThe Tartar king had leaped on his saddle the moment he saw his enemy,\nand when the paladin had done speaking, he said in a mild voice,\n\"Without doubt you are the best knight I ever encountered, and fain\nwould I leave you untouched for your own sake, if you would cease to\nhinder me from rallying my people. I pretended to fly, in order to\nbring you out of the field. If you insist upon fighting I must needs\nfight and slay you, but I call the sun in the heavens to witness I\nwould rather not. I should be very sorry for your death.\"\n\nThe Count Orlando felt pity for so much gallantry, and he said, \"The\nnobler you show yourself the more it grieves me to think that in dying\nwithout a knowledge of the true faith you will be lost in the other\nworld. Let me advise you to save body and soul at once. Receive\nbaptism, and go your way in peace.\"\n\nAgrican replied: \"I suspect you to be the paladin Orlando. If you are I\nwould not lose this opportunity of fighting with you to be king of\nParadise. Talk to me no more about your things of another world, for\nyou will preach in vain. Each of us for himself, and let the sword be\numpire.\"\n\nThe Saracen drew his sword, boldly advancing upon Orlando, and a combat\nbegan, so obstinate and so long, each warrior being a miracle of\nprowess, that the story says it lasted from noon till night. Orlando\nthen seeing the stars come out was the first to propose a respite.\n\n\"What are we to do,\" said he, \"now that daylight has left us?\"\n\nAgrican answered readily enough, \"Let us repose in this meadow, and\nrenew the combat at dawn.\"\n\nThe repose was taken accordingly. Each tied up his horse, and reclined\nhimself on the grass, not far from the other, just as if they had been\nfriends, Orlando by the fountain, Agrican beneath a pine. It was a\nbeautiful clear night, and, as they talked together before addressing\nthemselves to sleep, the champion of Christendom, looking up at the\nfirmament, said, \"That is a fine piece of workmanship, that starry\nspectacle; God made it all, that moon of silver, and those stars of\ngold, and the light of day, and the sun,--all for the sake of human\nkind.\"\n\n\"You wish, I see, to talk of matters of faith,\" said the Tartar. \"Now I\nmay as well tell you at once that I have no sort of skill in such\nmatters, nor learning of any kind. I never could learn anything when I\nwas a boy. I hated it so that I broke the man's head who was\ncommissioned to teach me; and it produced such an effect on others that\nnobody ever afterwards dared so much as show me a book. My boyhood was\ntherefore passed, as it should be, in horsemanship and hunting, and\nlearning to fight. What is the good of a gentleman's poring all day\nover a book? Prowess to the knight, and preaching to the clergyman,\nthat is my motto.\"\n\n\"I acknowledge,\" returned Orlando, \"that arms are the first\nconsideration of a gentleman; but not at all that he does himself\ndishonor by knowledge. On the contrary, knowledge is as great an\nembellishment of the rest of his attainments, as the flowers are to the\nmeadow before us; and as to the knowledge of his Maker, the man that is\nwithout it is no better than a stock or a stone or a brute beast.\nNeither without study can he reach anything of a due sense of the depth\nand divineness of the contemplation.\"\n\n\"Learned or not learned,\" said Agrican, \"you might show yourself better\nbred than by endeavoring to make me talk on a subject on which you have\nme at a disadvantage. If you choose to sleep I wish you good night; but\nif you prefer talking I recommend you to talk of fighting or of fair\nladies. And, by the way, pray tell me, are you not that Orlando who\nmakes such a noise in the world? And what is it, pray, that brings you\ninto these parts? Were you ever in love? I suppose you must have been;\nfor to be a knight, and never to have been in love, would be like being\na man without a heart in his breast.\"\n\nThe count replied: \"Orlando I am, and in love I am. Love has made me\nabandon everything, and brought me into these distant regions, and, to\ntell you all in one word, my heart is in the hands of the daughter of\nKing Galafron. You have come against him with fire and sword, to get\npossession of his castles and his dominions; and I have come to help\nhim, for no object in the world but to please his daughter and win her\nbeautiful hand. I care for nothing else in existence.\"\n\nNow when the Tartar king, Agrican, heard his antagonist speak in this\nmanner, and knew him to be indeed Orlando, and to be in love with\nAngelica, his face changed color for grief and jealousy, though it\ncould not be seen for the darkness. His heart began beating with such\nviolence that he felt as if he should have died. \"Well,\" said he to\nOrlando, \"we are to fight when it is daylight, and one or other is to\nbe left here, dead on the ground. I have a proposal to make to\nyou--nay, an entreaty. My love is so excessive for the same lady that I\nbeg you to leave her to me. I will owe you my thanks, and give up the\nsiege and put an end to the war. I cannot bear that any one should love\nher, and that I should live to see it. Why, therefore, should either of\nus perish? Give her up. Not a soul shall know it.\"\n\n\"I never yet,\" answered Orlando, \"made a promise which I did not keep,\nand nevertheless I own to you that, were I to make a promise like that,\nand even swear to keep it, I should not. You might as well ask me to\ntear away the limbs from my body, and the eyes out of my head. I could\nas well live without breath itself as cease loving Angelica.\"\n\nAgrican had hardly patience to let him finish speaking, ere he leapt\nfuriously on horseback, though it was midnight. \"Quit her,\" said he,\n\"or die!\"\n\nOrlando seeing the infidel getting up, and not being sure that he would\nnot add treachery to fierceness, had been hardly less quick in mounting\nfor the combat. \"Never,\" exclaimed he; \"I never could have quitted her\nif I would, and now I would not if I could. You must seek her by other\nmeans than these.\"\n\nFiercely dashed their horses together, in the nighttime, on the green\nmead. Despiteful and terrible were the blows they gave and took by the\nmoonlight. Agrican fought in a rage, Orlando was cooler. And now the\nstruggle had lasted more than five hours, and day began to dawn, when\nthe Tartar king, furious to find so much trouble given him, dealt his\nenemy a blow sharp and violent beyond conception. It cut the shield in\ntwo as if it had been made of wood, and, though blood could not be\ndrawn from Orlando, because he was fated, it shook and bruised him as\nif it had started every joint in his body.\n\nHis body only, however, not a particle of his soul. So dreadful was the\nblow which the paladin gave in return, that not only shield, but every\nbit of mail on the body of Agrican was broken in pieces, and three of\nhis ribs cut asunder.\n\nThe Tartar, roaring like a lion, raised his sword with still greater\nvehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the paladin's helmet, such\nas he had never yet received from mortal man. For a moment it took away\nhis senses. His sight failed, his ears tingled, his frightened horse\nturned about to fly; and he was falling from the saddle, when the very\naction of falling threw his head upwards, and thus recalled his\nrecollection.\n\n\"What a shame is this!\" thought he; \"how shall I ever again dare to\nface Angelica! I have been fighting hour after hour with this man, and\nhe is but one, and I call myself Orlando! If the combat last any longer\nI will bury myself in a monastery, and never look on sword again.\"\n\nOrlando muttered with his lips closed and his teeth ground together;\nand you might have thought that fire instead of breath came out of his\nnose and mouth. He raised his sword Durindana with both his hands, and\nsent it down so tremendously on Agrican's shoulder that it cut through\nbreastplate down to the very haunch, nay, crushed the saddle-bow,\nthough it was made of bone and iron, and felled man and horse to the\nearth. Agrican turned as white as ashes, and felt death upon him. He\ncalled Orlando to come close to him, with a gentle voice, and said, as\nwell as he could: \"I believe on Him who died on the cross. Baptize me,\nI pray thee, with the fountain, before my senses are gone. I have lived\nan evil life, but need not be rebellious to God in death also. May He\nwho came to save all the rest of the world save me!\" And he shed tears,\nthat great king, though he had been so lofty and fierce.\n\nOrlando dismounted quickly, with his own face in tears. He gathered the\nking tenderly in his arms, and took and laid him by the fountain, on a\nmarble rim that it had, and then he wept in concert with him heartily,\nand asked his pardon, and so baptized him in the water of the fountain,\nand knelt and prayed to God for him with joined hands.\n\nHe then paused and looked at him; and when he perceived his countenance\nchanged, and that his whole person was cold, he left him there on the\nmarble rim of the fountain, all armed as he was, with the sword by his\nside, and the crown upon his head.\n\n\n\nADVENTURES OF RINALDO AND ORLANDO\n\nWe left Rinaldo when, having overcome the monster, he quitted the\ncastle of Altaripa, and pursued his way on foot. He soon met with a\nweeping damsel, who, being questioned as to the cause of her sorrow,\ntold him she was in search of one to do battle to rescue her lover, who\nhad been made prisoner by a vile enchantress, together with Orlando and\nmany more. The damsel was Flordelis, the lady-love of Florismart, and\nRinaldo promised his assistance, trusting to accomplish the adventure\neither by valor or skill. Flordelis insisted upon Rinaldo's taking her\nhorse, which he consented to do, on condition of her mounting behind\nhim.\n\nAs they rode on through a wood, they heard strange noises, and Rinaldo,\nreassuring the damsel, pressed forward towards the quarter from which\nthey proceeded. He soon perceived a giant standing under a vaulted\ncavern, with a huge club in his hand, and of an appearance to strike\nthe boldest spirit with dread. By the side of the cavern was chained a\ngriffin, which, together with the giant, was stationed there to guard a\nwonderful horse, the same which was once Argalia's. This horse was a\ncreature of enchantment, matchless in vigor, speed, and form, which\ndisdained to share the diet of his fellow-steeds,--corn or grass,--and\nfed only on air. His name was Rabican.\n\nThis marvellous horse, after his master Argalia had been slain by\nFerrau, finding himself at liberty, returned to his native cavern, and\nwas here stabled under the protection of the giant and the griffin. As\nRinaldo approached, the giant assailed him with his club. Rinaldo\ndefended himself from the giant's blows, and gave him one in return,\nwhich, if his skin had not been of the toughest, would have finished\nthe combat. But the giant, though wounded, escaped, and let loose the\ngriffin. This monstrous bird towered in air, and thence pounced down\nupon Rinaldo, who, watching his opportunity, dealt her a desperate\nwound. She had, however, strength for another flight, and kept\nrepeating her attacks, which Rinaldo parried as he could, while the\ndamsel stood trembling by, witnessing the contest.\n\nThe battle continued, rendered more terrible by the approach of night,\nwhen Rinaldo determined upon a desperate expedient to bring it to a\nconclusion. He fell, as if fainting from his wounds, and, on the close\napproach of the griffin, dealt her a blow which sheared away one of her\nwings. The beast, though sinking, griped him fast with her talons,\ndigging through plate and mail; but Rinaldo plied his sword in utter\ndesperation, and at last accomplished her destruction.\n\nRinaldo then entered the cavern, and found there the wonderful horse,\nall caparisoned. He was coal-black, except for a star of white on his\nforehead, and one white foot behind. For speed he was unrivalled,\nthough in strength he yielded to Bayard. Rinaldo mounted upon Rabican,\nand issued from the cavern.\n\nAs he pursued his way he met a fugitive from Agrican's army, who gave\nsuch an account of the prowess of a champion who fought on the side of\nAngelica, that Rinaldo was persuaded this must be Orlando, though at a\nloss to imagine how he could have been freed from captivity. He\ndetermined to repair to the scene of the contest to satisfy his\ncuriosity, and Flordelis, hoping to find Florismart with Orlando,\nconsented to accompany him.\n\nWhile these things were doing, all was rout and dismay in the Tartarian\narmy, from the death of Agrican. King Galafron, arriving at this\njuncture with an army for the relief of his capital, Albracca,\nassaulted the enemy's camp, and carried all before him. Rinaldo had now\nreached the scene of action, and was looking on as an unconcerned\nspectator, when he was espied by Galafron. The king instantly\nrecognized the horse Rabican, which he had given to Argalia when he\nsent him forth on his ill-omened mission to Paris. Possessed with the\nidea that the rider of the horse was the murderer of Argalia, Galafron\nrode at Rinaldo, and smote him with all his force. Rinaldo was not slow\nto avenge the blow, and it would have gone hard with the king had not\nhis followers instantly closed round him and separated the combatants.\n\nRinaldo thus found himself, almost without his own choice, enlisted on\nthe side of the enemies of Angelica, which gave him no concern, so\ncompletely had his draught from the fountain of hate steeled his mind\nagainst her.\n\nFor several successive days the struggle continued, without any\nimportant results, Rinaldo meeting the bravest knights of Angelica's\nparty, and defeating them one after the other. At length he encountered\nOrlando, and the two knights bitterly reproached one another for the\ncause they had each adopted, and engaged in a furious combat. Orlando\nwas mounted upon Bayard, Rinaldo's horse, which Agrican had by chance\nbecome possessed of, and Orlando had taken from him as the prize of\nvictory. Bayard would not fight against his master, and Orlando was\ngetting the worse of the encounter, when suddenly Rinaldo, seeing\nAstolpho, who for love of him had arrayed himself on his side, hard\nbeset by numbers, left Orlando to rush to the defence of his friend.\nNight prevented the combat from being renewed; but a challenge was\ngiven and accepted for their next meeting.\n\nBut Angelica, sighing in her heart for Rinaldo, was not willing that he\nshould be again exposed to so terrible a venture. She begged a boon of\nOrlando, promising she would be his if he would do her bidding. On\nreceiving his promise, she enjoined him to set out without delay to\ndestroy the garden of the enchantress Falerina, in which many valiant\nknights had been entrapped, and were imprisoned.\n\nOrlando departed on his horse Brigliadoro, leaving Bayard in disgrace\nfor his bad deportment the day before. Angelica, to conciliate Rinaldo,\nsent Bayard to him; but Rinaldo remained unmoved by this as by all her\nformer acts of kindness.\n\nWhen Rinaldo learned Orlando's departure, he yielded to the entreaties\nof the lady of Florismart, and prepared to fulfil his promise, and\nrescue her lover from the power of the enchantress. Thus both Rinaldo\nand Orlando were bound upon the same adventure, but unknown to one\nanother.\n\nThe castle of Falerina was protected by a river, which was crossed by a\nbridge, kept by a ruffian, who challenged all comers to the combat; and\nsuch was his strength that he had thus far prevailed in every\nencounter, as appeared by the arms of various knights which he had\ntaken from them, and piled up as a trophy on the shore. Rinaldo\nattacked him, but with as bad success as the rest, for the bridge-ward\nstruck him so violent a blow with an iron mace that he fell to the\nground. But when the villain approached to strip him of his armor,\nRinaldo seized him, and the bridge-ward, being unable to free himself,\nleapt with Rinaldo into the lake, where they both disappeared.\n\nOrlando, meanwhile, in discharge of his promise to Angelica, pursued\nhis way in quest of the same adventure. In passing through a wood he\nsaw a cavalier armed at all points, and mounted, keeping guard over a\nlady who was bound to a tree, weeping bitterly. Orlando hastened to her\nrelief, but was exhorted by the knight not to interfere, for she had\ndeserved her fate by her wickedness. In proof of which he made certain\ncharges against her. The lady denied them all, and Orlando believed\nher, defied the knight, overthrew him, and, releasing the lady,\ndeparted with her seated on his horse's croup.\n\nWhile they rode another damsel approached on a white palfrey, who\nwarned Orlando of impending danger, and informed him that he was near\nthe garden of the enchantress. Orlando was delighted with the\nintelligence, and entreated her to inform him how he was to gain\nadmittance. She replied that the garden could only be entered at\nsunrise and gave him such instructions as would enable him to gain\nadmittance. She gave him also a book in which was painted the garden\nand all that it contained, together with the palace of the false\nenchantress, where she had secluded herself for the purpose of\nexecuting a magic work in which she was engaged. This was the\nmanufacture of a sword capable of cutting even through enchanted\nsubstances. The object of this labor, the damsel told him, was the\ndestruction of a knight of the west, by name Orlando, who she had read\nin the book of Fate was coming to demolish her garden. Having thus\ninstructed him, the damsel departed.\n\nOrlando, finding he must delay his enterprise till the next morning,\nnow lay down and was soon asleep. Seeing this, the base woman whom he\nhad rescued, and who was intent on making her escape to rejoin her\nparamour, mounted Brigliadoro, and rode off, carrying away Durindana.\n\nWhen Orlando awoke, his indignation, as may be supposed, was great on\nthe discovery of the theft; but, like a good knight and true, he was\nnot to be diverted from his enterprise. He tore off a huge branch of an\nelm to supply the place of his sword; and, as the sun rose, took his\nway towards the gate of the garden, where a dragon was on his watch.\nThis he slew by repeated blows, and entered the garden, the gate of\nwhich closed behind him, barring retreat. Looking round him, he saw a\nfair fountain, which overflowed into a river, and in the centre of the\nfountain a figure, on whose forehead was written:\n\n    \"The stream which waters violet and rose,\n     From hence to the enchanted palace goes.\"\n\nFollowing the banks of this flowing stream, and rapt in the delights of\nthe charming garden, Orlando arrived at the palace, and entering it,\nfound the mistress, clad in white, with a crown of gold upon her head,\nin the act of viewing herself in the surface of the magic sword.\nOrlando surprised her before she could escape, deprived her of the\nweapon, and holding her fast by her long hair, which floated behind,\nthreatened her with immediate death if she did not yield up her\nprisoners, and afford him the means of egress. She, however, was firm\nof purpose, making no reply, and Orlando, unable to move her either by\nthreats or entreaties, was under the necessity of binding her to a\nbeech, and pursuing his quest as he best might.\n\nHe then bethought him of his book, and, consulting it, found that there\nwas an outlet to the south, but that to reach it a lake was to be\npassed, inhabited by a siren, whose song was so entrancing as to be\nquite irresistible to whoever heard it; but his book instructed him how\nto protect himself against this danger. According to its directions,\nwhile pursuing his path, he gathered abundance of flowers, which sprung\nall around, and filled his helmet and his ears with them; then listened\nif he heard the birds sing. Finding that, though he saw the gaping\nbeak, the swelling throat, and ruffled plumes, he could not catch a\nnote, he felt satisfied with his defence, and advanced toward the lake.\nIt was small but deep, and so clear and tranquil that the eye could\npenetrate to the bottom.\n\nHe had no, sooner arrived upon the banks than the waters were seen to\ngurgle, and the siren, rising midway out of the pool, sung so sweetly\nthat birds and beasts came trooping to the water-side to listen. Of\nthis Orlando heard nothing, but, feigning to yield to the charm, sank\ndown upon the bank. The siren issued from the water with the intent to\naccomplish his destruction. Orlando seized her by the hair, and while\nshe sang yet louder (song being her only defence) cut off her head.\nThen, following the directions of the book, he stained himself all over\nwith her blood.\n\nGuarded by this talisman, he met successively all the monsters set for\ndefence of the enchantress and her garden, and at length found himself\nagain at the spot where he had made captive the enchantress, who still\ncontinued fastened to the beech. But the scene was changed. The garden\nhad disappeared, and Falerina, before so haughty, now begged for mercy,\nassuring him that many lives depended upon the preservation of hers.\nOrlando promised her life upon her pledging herself for the deliverance\nof her captives.\n\nThis, however, was no easy task. They were not in her possession, but\nin that of a much more powerful enchantress, Morgana, the Lady of the\nLake, the very idea of opposing whom made Falerina turn pale with fear.\nRepresenting to him the hazards of the enterprise, she led him towards\nthe dwelling of Morgana. To approach it he had to encounter the same\nuncourteous bridge-ward who had already defeated and made captive so\nmany knights, and last of all, Rinaldo. He was a churl of the most\nferocious character, named Arridano. Morgana had provided him with\nimpenetrable armor, and endowed him in such a manner that his strength\nalways increased in proportion to that of the adversary with whom he\nwas matched. No one had ever yet escaped from the contest, since, such\nwas his power of endurance, he could breathe freely under water. Hence,\nhaving grappled with a knight, and sunk with him to the bottom of the\nlake, he returned, bearing his enemy's arms in triumph to the surface.\n\nWhile Falerina was repeating her cautions and her counsels Orlando saw\nRinaldo's arms erected in form of a trophy, among other spoils made by\nthe villain, and, forgetting their late quarrel, determined upon\nrevenging his friend. Arriving at the pass, the churl presuming to bar\nthe way, a desperate contest ensued, during which Falerina escaped. The\nchurl finding himself overmatched at a contest of arms, resorted to his\npeculiar art, grappled his antagonist, and plunged with him into the\nlake. When he reached the bottom Orlando found himself in another\nworld, upon a dry meadow, with the lake overhead, through which shone\nthe beams of our sun, while the water stood on all sides like a crystal\nwall. Here the battle was renewed, and Orlando had in his magic sword\nan advantage which none had hitherto possessed. It had been tempered by\nFalerina so that no spells could avail against it. Thus armed, and\ncountervailing the strength of his adversary by his superior skill and\nactivity, it was not long before he laid him dead upon the field.\n\nOrlando then made all haste to return to the upper air, and, passing\nthrough the water, which opened a way before him (such was the power of\nthe magic sword), he soon regained the shore, and found himself in a\nfield as thickly covered with precious stones as the sky is with stars.\n\nOrlando crossed the field, not tempted to delay his enterprise by\ngathering any of the brilliant gems spread all around him. He next\npassed into a flowery meadow planted with trees, covered with fruit and\nflowers, and full of all imaginable delights.\n\nIn the middle of this meadow was a fountain, and fast by it lay Morgana\nasleep; a lady of a lovely aspect, dressed in white and vermilion\ngarments, her forehead well furnished with hair, while she had scarcely\nany behind.\n\nWhile Orlando stood in silence contemplating her beauty he heard a\nvoice exclaim: \"Seize the fairy by the forelock, if thou hopest fair\nsuccess.\" But his attention was arrested by another object, and he\nheeded not the warning. He saw on a sudden an array of towers,\npinnacles and columns, palaces with balconies and windows, extended\nalleys with trees, in short a scene of architectural magnificence\nsurpassing all he had ever beheld. While he stood gazing in silent\nastonishment the scene slowly melted away and disappeared. [Footnote:\nThis is a poetical description of a phenomenon which is said to be\nreally exhibited in the strait of Messina, between Sicily and Calabria.\nIt is called Fata Morgana, or Mirage.]\n\nWhen he had recovered from his amazement he looked again toward the\nfountain. The fairy had awaked and risen, and was dancing round its\nborder with the lightness of a leaf, timing her footsteps to this song:\n\n    \"Who in this world would wealth and treasure share,\n     Honor, delight, and state, and what is best,\n     Quick let him catch me by the lock of hair\n     Which flutters from my forehead; and be blest.\n\n    \"But let him not the proffered good forbear,\n     Nor till he seize the fleeting blessing rest;\n     For present loss is sought in vain to-morrow,\n     And the deluded wretch is left in sorrow.\"\n\nThe fairy, having sung thus, bounded off, and fled from the flowery\nmeadow over a high and inaccessible mountain. Orlando pursued her\nthrough thorns and rocks, while the sky gradually became overcast, and\nat last he was assailed by tempest, lightning, and hail.\n\nWhile he thus pursued, a pale and meagre woman issued from a cave,\narmed with a whip, and, treading close upon his steps, scourged him\nwith vigorous strokes. Her name was Repentance, and she told him it was\nher office to punish those who neglected to obey the voice of Prudence,\nand seize the fairy Fortune when he might.\n\nOrlando, furious at this chastisement, turned upon his tormentor, but\nmight as well have stricken the wind. Finding it useless to resist, he\nresumed his chase of the fairy, gained upon her, and made frequent\nsnatches at her white and vermilion garments, which still eluded his\ngrasp. At last, on her turning her head for an instant, he profited by\nthe chance, and seized her by the forelock. In an instant the tempest\nceased, the sky became serene, and Repentance retreated to her cave.\n\nOrlando now demanded of Morgana the keys of her prison, and the fairy,\nfeigning a complacent aspect, delivered up a key of silver, bidding him\nto be cautious in the use of it, since to break the lock would be to\ninvolve himself and all in inevitable destruction; a caution which gave\nthe Count room for long meditation, and led him to consider\n\n    How few amid the suitors who importune\n    The dame, know how to turn the keys of Fortune.\n\nKeeping the fairy still fast by the forelock, Orlando proceeded toward\nthe prison, turned the key, without occasioning the mischiefs\napprehended, and delivered the prisoners.\n\nAmong these were Florismart, Rinaldo, and many others of the bravest\nknights of France. Morgana had disappeared, and the knights, under the\nguidance of Orlando, retraced the path by which he had come. They soon\nreached the field of treasure. Rinaldo, finding himself amidst this\nmass of wealth, remembered his needy garrison of Montalban, and could\nnot resist the temptation of seizing part of the booty. In particular a\ngolden chain, studded with diamonds, was too much for his self-denial,\nand he took it and was bearing it off, notwithstanding the\nremonstrances of Orlando, when a violent wind caught him and whirled\nhim back, as he approached the gate. This happened a second and a third\ntime, and Rinaldo at length yielded to necessity, rather than to the\nentreaties of his friends, and cast away his prize.\n\nThey soon reached the bridge and passed over without hindrance to the\nother side, where they found the trophy decorated with their arms. Here\neach knight resumed his own, and all, except the paladins and their\nfriends, separated as their inclinations or duty prompted. Dudon, the\nDane, one of the rescued knights, informed the cousins that he had been\nmade prisoner by Morgana while in the discharge of an embassy to them\nfrom Charlemagne, who called upon them to return to the defence of\nChristendom. Orlando was too much fascinated by Angelica to obey this\nsummons, and, followed by the faithful Florismart, who would not leave\nhim, returned towards Albracca. Rinaldo, Dudon, Iroldo, Prasildo, and\nthe others took their way toward the west.\n\n\n\nTHE INVASION OF FRANCE\n\nAgramant, King of Africa, convoked the kings, his vassals, to\ndeliberate in council. He reminded them of the injuries he had\nsustained from France, that his father had fallen in battle with\nCharlemagne, and that his early years had hitherto not allowed him to\nwipe out the stain of former defeats. He now proposed to them to carry\nwar into France.\n\nSobrino, his wisest councillor, opposed the project, representing the\nrashness of it; but Rodomont, the young and fiery king of Algiers,\ndenounced Sobrino's counsel as base and cowardly, declaring himself\nimpatient for the enterprise. The king of the Garamantes, venerable for\nhis age and renowned for his prophetic lore, interposed, and assured\nthe King that such an attempt would be sure to fail, unless he could\nfirst get on his side a youth marked out by destiny as the fitting\ncompeer of the most puissant knights of France, the young Rogero,\ndescended in direct line from Hector of Troy. This prince was now a\ndweller upon the mountain Carena, where Atlantes, his foster-father, a\npowerful magician, kept him in retirement, having discovered by his art\nthat his pupil would be lost to him if allowed to mingle with the\nworld. To break the spells of Atlantes, and draw Rogero from his\nretirement, one only means was to be found. It was a ring possessed by\nAngelica, Princess of Cathay, which was a talisman against all\nenchantments. If this ring could be procured all would go well; without\nit the enterprise was desperate.\n\nRodomont treated this declaration of the old prophet with scorn, and it\nwould probably have been held of little weight by the council, had not\nthe aged king, oppressed by the weight of years, expired in the very\nact of reaffirming his prediction. This made so deep an impression on\nthe council that it was unanimously resolved to postpone the war until\nan effort should be made to win Rogero to the camp.\n\nKing Agramant thereupon proclaimed that the sovereignty of a kingdom\nshould be the reward of whoever should succeed in obtaining the ring of\nAngelica. Brunello the dwarf, the subtlest thief in all Africa,\nundertook to procure it.\n\nIn prosecution of this design, he made the best of his way to\nAngelica's kingdom, and arrived beneath the walls of Albracca while the\nbesieging army was encamped before the fortress. While the attention of\nthe garrison was absorbed by the battle that raged below he scaled the\nwalls, approached the Princess unnoticed, slipped the ring from her\nfinger, and escaped unobserved. He hastened to the seaside, and,\nfinding a vessel ready to sail, embarked, and arrived at Biserta, in\nAfrica. Here he found Agramant impatient for the talisman which was to\nfoil the enchantments of Atlantes and to put Rogero into his hands. The\ndwarf, kneeling before the king, presented him with the ring, and\nAgramant, delighted at the success of his mission, crowned him in\nrecompense King of Tingitana.\n\nAll were now anxious to go in quest of Rogero. The cavalcade\naccordingly departed, and in due time arrived at the mountain of Carena.\n\nAt the bottom of this was a fruitful and well-wooded plain, watered by\na large river, and from this plain was descried a beautiful garden on\nthe mountain-top, which contained the mansion of Atlantes; but the\nring, which discovered what was before invisible, could not, though it\nrevealed this paradise, enable Agramant or his followers to enter it.\nSo steep and smooth was the rock by nature, that even Brunello failed\nin every attempt to scale it. He did not, for this, despair of\naccomplishing the object; but, having obtained Agramant's consent,\ncaused the assembled courtiers and knights to celebrate a tournament\nupon the plain below. This was done with the view of seducing Rogero\nfrom his fastness, and the stratagem was attended with success.\n\nRogero joined the tourney, and was presented by Agramant with a\nsplendid horse, Frontino, and a magnificent sword. Having learned from\nAgramant his intended invasion of France, he gladly consented to join\nthe expedition.\n\nRodomont, meanwhile, was too impatient to wait for Agramant's\narrangements, and embarked with all the forces he could raise, made\ngood his landing on the coast of France, and routed the Christians in\nseveral encounters. Previously to this, however, Gano, or Ganelon (as\nhe is sometimes called), the traitor, enemy of Orlando and the other\nnephews of Charlemagne, had entered into a traitorous correspondence\nwith Marsilius, the Saracen king of Spain, whom he invited into France.\nMarsilius, thus encouraged, led an army across the frontiers, and\njoined Rodomont. This was the situation of things when Rinaldo and the\nother knights who had obeyed the summons of Dudon set forward on their\nreturn to France.\n\nWhen they arrived at Buda in Hungary they found the king of that\ncountry about despatching his son, Ottachiero, with an army to the\nsuccor of Charlemagne. Delighted with the arrival of Rinaldo, he placed\nhis son and troops under his command. In due time the army arrived on\nthe frontiers of France, and, united with the troops of Desiderius,\nking of Lombardy, poured down into Provence. The confederate armies had\nnot marched many days through this gay tract before they heard a crash\nof drums and trumpets behind the hills, which spoke the conflict\nbetween the paynims, led by Rodomont, and the Christian forces.\nRinaldo, witnessing from a mountain the prowess of Rodomont, left his\ntroops in charge of his friends, and galloped towards him with his\nlance in rest. The impulse was irresistible, and Rodomont was unhorsed.\nBut Rinaldo, unwilling to avail himself of his advantage, galloped back\nto the hill, and having secured Bayard among the baggage, returned to\nfinish the combat on foot.\n\nDuring this interval the battle had become general, the Hungarians were\nrouted, and Rinaldo, on his return, had the mortification to find that\nOttachiero was wounded, and Dudon taken prisoner. While he sought\nRodomont in order to renew the combat a new sound of drums and trumpets\nwas heard, and Charlemagne, with the main body of his army, was\ndescried advancing in battle array.\n\nRodomont, seeing this, mounted the horse of Dudon, left Rinaldo, who\nwas on foot, and galloped off to encounter this new enemy.\n\nAgramant, accompanied by Rogero, had by this time made good his\nlanding, and joined Rodomont with all his forces. Rogero eagerly\nembraced this first opportunity of distinguishing himself, and spread\nterror wherever he went, encountering in turn and overthrowing many of\nthe bravest knights of France. At length he found himself opposite to\nRinaldo, who, being interrupted, as we have said, in his combat with\nRodomont, and unable to follow him, being on foot, was shouting to his\nlate foe to return and finish their combat. Rogero also was on foot,\nand seeing the Christian knight so eager for a contest, proffered\nhimself to supply the place of his late antagonist. Rinaldo saw at a\nglance that the Moorish prince was a champion worthy of his arm, and\ngladly accepted the defiance. The combat was stoutly maintained for a\ntime; but now fortune declared decisively in favor of the infidel army,\nand Charlemagne's forces gave way at all points in irreparable\nconfusion. The two combatants were separated by the crowd of fugitives\nand pursuers, and Rinaldo hastened to recover possession of his horse.\nBut Bayard, in the confusion, had got loose, and Rinaldo followed him\ninto a thick wood, thus becoming effectually separated from Rogero.\n\nRogero, also seeking his horse in the medley, came where two warriors\nwere engaged in mortal combat. Though he knew not who they were, he\ncould distinguish that one was a paynim and the other a Christian; and\nmoved by the spirit of courtesy he approached them and exclaimed, \"Let\nhim of the two who worships Christ pause, and hear what I have to say.\nThe army of Charles is routed and in flight, so that if he wishes to\nfollow his leader he has no time for delay.\" The Christian knight, who\nwas none other than Bradamante, a female warrior, in prowess equal to\nthe best of knights, was thunderstruck with the tidings, and would\ngladly leave the contest undecided, and retire from the field; but\nRodomont, her antagonist, would by no means consent. Rogero, indignant\nat his discourtesy, insisted upon her departure, while he took up her\nquarrel with Rodomont.\n\nThe combat, obstinately maintained on both sides, was interrupted by\nthe return of Bradamante. Finding herself unable to overtake the\nfugitives, and reluctant to leave to another the burden and risk of a\ncontest which belonged to herself, she had returned to reclaim the\ncombat. She arrived, however, when her champion had dealt his enemy\nsuch a blow as obliged him to drop both his sword and bridle. Rogero,\ndisdaining to profit by his adversary's defenceless situation, sat\napart upon his horse, while that of Rodomont bore his rider, stunned\nand stupefied, about the field.\n\nBradamante approached Rogero, conceiving a yet higher opinion of his\nvalor on beholding such an instance of forbearance. She addressed him,\nexcusing herself for leaving him exposed to an enemy from his\ninterference in her cause; pleading her duty to her sovereign as the\nmotive. While she spoke Rodomont, recovered from his confusion, rode up\nto them. His bearing was, however, changed; and he disclaimed all\nthoughts of further contest with one who, he said, \"had already\nconquered him by his courtesy.\" So saying, he quitted his antagonist,\npicked up his sword, and spurred out of sight.\n\nBradamante was now again desirous of retiring from the field, and\nRogero insisted on accompanying her, though yet unaware of her sex.\n\nAs they pursued their way, she inquired the name and quality of her new\nassociate; and Rogero informed her of his nation and family. He told\nher that Astyanax, the son of Hector of Troy, established the kingdom\nof Messina in Sicily. From him were derived two branches, which gave\norigin to two families of renown. From one sprang the royal race of\nPepin and Charlemagne, and from the other, that of Reggio, in Italy.\n\"From that of Reggio am I derived,\" he continued. \"My mother, driven\nfrom her home by the chance of war, died in giving me life, and I was\ntaken in charge by a sage enchanter, who trained me to feats of arms\namidst the dangers of the desert and the chase.\"\n\nHaving thus ended his tale, Rogero entreated a similar return of\ncourtesy from his companion, who replied, without disguise, that she\nwas of the race of Clermont, and sister to Rinaldo, whose fame was\nperhaps known to him. Rogero, much moved by this intelligence,\nentreated her to take off her helmet, and at the discovery of her face\nremained transported with delight.\n\nWhile absorbed in this contemplation, an unexpected danger assailed\nthem. A party which was placed in a wood, in order to intercept the\nretreating Christians, broke from its ambush upon the pair, and\nBradamante, who was uncasqued, was wounded in the head. Rogero was in a\nfury at this attack; and Bradamante, replacing her helmet, joined him\nin taking speedy vengeance on their enemies. They cleared the field of\nthem, but became separated in the pursuit, and Rogero, quitting the\nchase, wandered by hill and vale in search of her whom he had no sooner\nfound than lost.\n\nWhile pursuing this quest he fell in with two knights, whom he joined,\nand engaged them to assist him in the search of his companion,\ndescribing her arms, but concealing, from a certain feeling of\njealousy, her quality and sex.\n\nIt was evening when they joined company, and having ridden together\nthrough the night the morning was beginning to break, when one of the\nstrangers, fixing his eyes upon Rogero's shield, demanded of him by\nwhat right he bore the Trojan arms. Rogero declared his origin and\nrace, and then, in his turn, interrogated the inquirer as to his\npretensions to the cognizance of Hector, which he bore. The stranger\nreplied, \"My name is Mandricardo, son of Agrican, the Tartar king, whom\nOrlando treacherously slew. I say treacherously, for in fair fight he\ncould not have done it. It is in search of him that I have come to\nFrance, to take vengeance for my father, and to wrest from him\nDurindana, that famous sword, which belongs to me, and not to him.\"\nWhen the knights demanded to know by what right he claimed Durindana,\nMandricardo thus related his history:\n\n\"I had been, before the death of my father, a wild and reckless youth.\nThat event awakened my energies, and drove me forth to seek for\nvengeance. Determined to owe success to nothing but my own exertions, I\ndeparted without attendants or horse or arms. Travelling thus alone,\nand on foot, I espied one day a pavilion, pitched near a fountain, and\nentered it, intent on adventure. I found therein a damsel of gracious\naspect, who replied to my inquiries that the fountain was the work of a\nfairy, whose castle stood beyond a neighboring hill, where she kept\nwatch over a treasure which many knights had tried to win, but\nfruitlessly, having lost their life or liberty in the attempt. This\ntreasure was the armor of Hector, prince of Troy, whom Achilles\ntreacherously slew. Nothing was wanting but his sword, Durindana, and\nthis had fallen into the possession of a queen named Penthesilea, from\nwhom it passed through her descendants to Almontes, whom Orlando slew,\nand thus became possessed of the sword. The rest of Hector's arms were\nsaved and carried off by Aeneas, from whom this fairy received them in\nrecompense of service rendered. 'If you have the courage to attempt\ntheir acquisition,' said the damsel, 'I will be your guide.'\"\n\nMandricardo went on to say that he eagerly embraced the proposal, and\nbeing provided with horse and armor by the damsel, set forth on his\nenterprise, the lady accompanying him.\n\nAs they rode she explained the dangers of the quest. The armor was\ndefended by a champion, one of the numerous unsuccessful adventurers\nfor the prize, all of whom had been made prisoners by the fairy, and\ncompelled to take their turn, day by day, in defending the arms against\nall comers. Thus speaking they arrived at the castle, which was of\nalabaster, overlaid with gold. Before it, on a lawn, sat an armed\nknight on horseback, who was none other than Gradasso, king of\nSericane, who, in his return home from his unsuccessful inroad into\nFrance, had fallen into the power of the fairy, and was held to do her\nbidding. Mandricardo, upon seeing him, dropt his visor, and laid his\nlance in rest. The champion of the castle was equally ready, and each\nspurred towards his opponent. They met one another with equal force,\nsplintered their spears, and, returning to the charge, encountered with\ntheir swords. The contest was long and doubtful, when Mandricardo,\ndetermined to bring it to an end, threw his arms about Gradasso,\ngrappled with him, and both fell to the ground. Mandricardo, however,\nfell uppermost, and, preserving his advantage, compelled Gradasso to\nyield himself conquered. The damsel now interfered, congratulating the\nvictor, and consoling the vanquished as well as she might.\n\nMandricardo and the damsel proceeded to the gate of the castle, which\nthey found undefended. As they entered they beheld a shield suspended\nfrom a pilaster of gold. The device was a white eagle on an azure\nfield, in memory of the bird of Jove, which bore away Ganymede, the\nflower of the Phrygian race. Beneath was engraved the following couplet:\n\n    \"Let none with hand profane my buckler wrong\n     Unless he be himself as Hector strong.\"\n\nThe damsel, alighting from her palfrey, made obeisance to the arms,\nbending herself to the ground. The Tartar king bowed his head with\nequal reverence; then advancing towards the shield, touched it with his\nsword. Thereupon an earthquake shook the ground, and the way by which\nhe had entered closed. Another and an opposite gate opened, and\ndisplayed a field bristling with stalks and grain of gold. The damsel,\nupon this, told him that he had no means of retreat but by cutting down\nthe harvest which was before him, and by uprooting a tree which grew in\nthe middle of the field. Mandricardo, without replying, began to mow\nthe harvest with his sword, but had scarce smitten thrice when he\nperceived that every stalk that fell was instantly transformed into\nsome poisonous or ravenous animal, which prepared to assail him.\nInstructed by the damsel, he snatched up a stone and cast it among the\npack. A strange wonder followed; for no sooner had the stone fallen\namong the beasts, than they turned their rage against one another, and\nrent each other to pieces. Mandricardo did not stop to marvel at the\nmiracle, but proceeded to fulfil his task, and uproot the tree. He\nclasped it round the trunk, and made vigorous efforts to tear it up by\nthe roots. At each effort fell a shower of leaves, that were instantly\nchanged into birds of prey, which attacked the knight, flapping their\nwings in his face, with horrid screeching. But undismayed by this new\nannoyance, he continued to tug at the trunk till it yielded to his\nefforts. A burst of wind and thunder followed, and the hawks and\nvultures flew screaming away.\n\nBut these only gave place to a new foe; for from the hole made by\ntearing up the tree issued a furious serpent, and, darting at\nMandricardo, wound herself about his limbs with a strain that almost\ncrushed him. Fortune, however, again stood his friend, for, writhing\nunder the folds of the monster, he fell backwards into the hole, and\nhis enemy was crushed beneath his weight.\n\nMandricardo, when he was somewhat recovered, and assured himself of the\ndestruction of the serpent, began to contemplate the place into which\nhe had fallen, and saw that he was in a vault, incrusted with costly\nmetals, and illuminated by a live coal. In the middle was a sort of\nivory bier, and upon this was extended what appeared to be a knight in\narmor, but was in truth an empty trophy, composed of the rich and\nprecious arms once Hector's, to which nothing was wanting but the\nsword. While Mandricardo stood contemplating the prize a door opened\nbehind him, and a bevy of fair damsels entered, dancing, who, taking up\nthe armor piece by piece, led him away to the place where the shield\nwas suspended; where he found the fairy of the castle seated in state.\nBy her he was invested with the arms he had won, first pledging his\nsolemn oath to wear no other blade but Durindana, which he was to wrest\nfrom Orlando, and thus complete the conquest of Hector's arms.\n\n\n\nTHE INVASION OF FRANCE (Continued)\n\nMandricardo, having completed his story, now turned to Rogero, and\nproposed that arms should decide which of the two was most worthy to\nbear the symbol of the Trojan knight.\n\nRogero felt no other objection to this proposal than the scruple which\narose on observing that his antagonist was without a sword. Mandricardo\ninsisted that this need be no impediment, since his oath prevented him\nfrom using a sword until he should have achieved the conquest of\nDurindana.\n\nThis was no sooner said than a new antagonist started up in Gradasso,\nwho now accompanied Mandricardo. Gradasso vindicated his prior right to\nDurindana, to obtain which he had embarked (as was related in the\nbeginning) in that bold inroad upon France. A quarrel was thus kindled\nbetween the kings of Tartary and Sericane. While the dispute was raging\na knight arrived upon the ground, accompanied by a damsel, to whom\nRogero related the cause of the strife. The knight was Florismart, and\nhis companion Flordelis. Florismart succeeded in bringing the two\nchampions to accord, by informing them that he could bring them to the\npresence of Orlando, the master of Durindana.\n\nGradasso and Mandricardo readily made truce, in order to accompany\nFlorismart, nor would Rogero be left behind.\n\nAs they proceeded on their quest they were met by a dwarf, who\nentreated their assistance in behalf of his lady, who had been carried\noff by an enchanter, mounted on a winged horse. However unwilling to\nleave the question of the sword undecided, it was not possible for the\nknights to resist this appeal. Two of their number, Gradasso and\nRogero, therefore accompanied the dwarf. Mandricardo persisted in his\nsearch for Orlando, and Florismart, with Flordelis, pursued their way\nto the camp of Charlemagne.\n\nAtlantes, the enchanter, who had brought up Rogero, and cherished for\nhim the warmest affection, knew by his art that his pupil was destined\nto be severed from him, and converted to the Christian faith through\nthe influence of Bradamante, that royal maiden with whom chance had\nbrought him acquainted. Thinking to thwart the will of Heaven in this\nrespect, he now put forth all his arts to entrap Rogero into his power.\nBy the aid of his subservient demons he reared a castle on an\ninaccessible height, in the Pyrenean mountains, and to make it a\npleasant abode to his pupil, contrived to entrap and convey thither\nknights and damsels many a one, whom chance had brought into the\nvicinity of his castle. Here, in a sort of sensual paradise, they were\nbut too willing to forget glory and duty, and to pass their time in\nindolent enjoyment.\n\nIt was by the enchanter that the dwarf had now been sent to tempt the\nknights into his power.\n\nBut we must now return to Rinaldo, whom we left interrupted in his\ncombat with Rodomont. In search of his late antagonist and intent on\nbringing their combat to a decision he entered the forest of Arden,\nwhither he suspected Rodomont had gone. While engaged on this quest he\nwas surprised by the vision of a beautiful child dancing naked, with\nthree damsels as beautiful as himself. While he was lost in admiration\nat the sight the child approached him, and, throwing at him handfuls of\nroses and lilies, struck him from his horse. He was no sooner down than\nhe was seized by the dancers, by whom he was dragged about and scourged\nwith flowers till he fell into a swoon. When he began to revive one of\nthe group approached him, and told him that his punishment was the\nconsequence of his rebellion against that power before whom all things\nbend; that there was but one remedy to heal the wounds that had been\ninflicted, and that was to drink of the waters of Love. Then they left\nhim.\n\nRinaldo, sore and faint, dragged himself toward a fountain which flowed\nnear by, and, being parched with thirst, drank greedily and almost\nunconsciously of the water, which was sweet to the taste, but bitter to\nthe heart. After repeated draughts he recovered his strength and\nrecollection, and found himself in the same place where Angelica had\nformerly awakened him with a rain of flowers, and whence he had fled in\ncontempt of her courtesy.\n\nThis remembrance of the scene was followed by the recognition of his\ncrime; and, repenting bitterly his ingratitude, he leaped upon Bayard,\nwith the intention of hastening to Angelica's country, and soliciting\nhis pardon at her feet.\n\nLet us now retrace our steps, and revert to the time when the paladins\nhaving learned from Dudon the summons of Charlemagne to return to\nFrance to repel the invaders, had all obeyed the command with the\nexception of Orlando, whose passion for Angelica still held him in\nattendance on her. Orlando, arriving before Albracca, found it closely\nbeleaguered. He, however, made his way into the citadel, and related\nhis adventures to Angelica, from the time of his departure up to his\nseparation from Rinaldo and the rest, when they departed to the\nassistance of Charlemagne. Angelica, in return, described the\ndistresses of the garrison, and the force of the besiegers; and in\nconclusion prayed Orlando to favor her escape from the pressing danger,\nand escort her into France. Orlando, who did not suspect that love for\nRinaldo was her secret motive, joyfully agreed to the proposal, and the\nsally was resolved upon.\n\nLeaving lights burning in the fortress, they departed at nightfall, and\npassed in safety through the enemy's camp. After encountering numerous\nadventures they reached the sea-side, and embarked on board a pinnace\nfor France. The vessel arrived safely, and the travellers, disembarking\nin Provence, pursued their way by land. One day, heated and weary, they\nsought shelter from the sun in the forest of Arden, and chance directed\nAngelica to the fountain of Disdain, of whose waters she eagerly drank.\n\nIssuing thence, the Count and damsel encountered a stranger-knight. It\nwas no other than Rinaldo, who was just on the point of setting off on\na pilgrimage in search of Angelica, to implore her pardon for his\ninsensibility, and urge his new found passion. Surprise and delight at\nfirst deprived him of utterance, but soon recovering himself, he\njoyfully saluted her, claiming her as his, and exhorting her to put\nherself under his protection. His presumption was repelled by Angelica\nwith disdain, and Orlando, enraged at the invasion of his rights,\nchallenged him to decide their claims by arms.\n\nTerrified at the combat which ensued, Angelica fled amain through the\nforest, and came out upon a plain covered with tents. This was the camp\nof Charlemagne, who led the army of reserve destined to support the\ntroops which had advanced to oppose Marsilius. Charles having heard the\ndamsel's tale, with difficulty separated the two cousins, and then\nconsigned Angelica, as the cause of quarrel, to the care of Namo, Duke\nof Bavaria, promising that she should be his who should best deserve\nher in the impending battle.\n\nBut these plans and hopes were frustrated. The Christian army, beaten\nat all points, fled from the Saracens; and Angelica, indifferent to\nboth her lovers, mounted a swift palfrey and plunged into the forest,\nrejoicing, in spite of her terror, at having regained her liberty. She\nstopped at last in a tufted grove, where a gentle zephyr blew, and\nwhose young trees were watered by two clear runnels, which came and\nmingled their waters, making a pleasing murmur. Believing herself far\nfrom Rinaldo, and overcome by fatigue and the summer heat, she saw with\ndelight a bank covered with flowers so thick that they almost hid the\ngreen turf, inviting her to alight and rest. She dismounted from her\npalfrey, and turned him loose to recruit his strength with the tender\ngrass which bordered the streamlets. Then, in a sheltered nook\ntapestried with moss and fenced in with roses and hawthorn-flowers, she\nyielded herself to grateful repose.\n\nShe had not slept long when she was awakened by the noise made by the\napproach of a horse. Starting up, she saw an armed knight who had\narrived at the bank of the stream. Not knowing whether he was to be\nfeared or not, her heart beat with anxiety. She pressed aside the\nleaves to allow her to see who it was, but scarce dared to breathe for\nfear of betraying herself. Soon the knight threw himself on the flowery\nbank, and leaning his head on his hand fell into a profound reverie.\nThen arousing himself from his silence he began to pour forth\ncomplaints, mingled with deep sighs. Rivers of tears flowed down his\ncheeks, and his breast seemed to labor with a hidden flame. \"Ah, vain\nregrets!\" he exclaimed; \"cruel fortune! others triumph, while I endure\nhopeless misery! Better a thousand times to lose life, than wear a\nchain so disgraceful and so oppressive!\"\n\nAngelica by this time had recognized the stranger, and perceived that\nit was Sacripant, king of Circassia, one of the worthiest of her\nsuitors. This prince had followed Angelica from his country, at the\nvery gates of the day, to France, where he heard with dismay that she\nwas under the guardianship of the Paladin Orlando, and that the Emperor\nhad announced his decree to award her as the prize of valor to that one\nof his nephews who should best deserve her.\n\nAs Sacripant continued to lament, Angelica, who had always opposed the\nhardness of marble to his sighs, thought with herself that nothing\nforbade her employing his good offices in this unhappy crisis. Though\nfirmly resolved never to accept him as a spouse, she yet felt the\nnecessity of giving him a gleam of hope in reward for the service she\nrequired of him. All at once, like Diana, she stepped forth from the\narbor. \"May the gods preserve thee,\" she said, \"and put far from thee\nall hard thoughts of me!\" Then she told him all that had befallen her\nsince she parted with him at her father's court, and how she had\navailed herself of Orlando's protection to escape from the beleaguered\ncity. At that moment the noise of horse and armor was heard as of one\napproaching; and Sacripant, furious at the interruption, resumed his\nhelmet, mounted his horse, and placed his lance in rest. He saw a\nknight advancing, with scarf and plume of snowy whiteness. Sacripant\nregarded him with angry eyes, and, while he was yet some distance off,\ndefied him to the combat. The other, not moved by his angry tone to\nmake reply, put himself on his defence. Their horses, struck at the\nsame moment with the spur, rushed upon one another with the impetuosity\nof a tempest. Their shields were pierced each with the other's lance,\nand only the temper of their breastplates saved their lives. Both the\nhorses recoiled with the violence of the shock; but the unknown\nknight's recovered itself at the touch of the spur; the Saracen king's\nfell dead, and bore down his master with him. The white knight, seeing\nhis enemy in this condition, cared not to renew the combat, but,\nthinking he had done enough for glory, pursued his way through the\nforest, and was a mile off before Sacripant had got free from his horse.\n\nAs a ploughman, stunned by a thunder-clap which has stricken dead the\noxen at his plough, stands motionless, sadly contemplating his loss, so\nSacripant stood confounded and overwhelmed with mortification at having\nAngelica a witness of his defeat. He groaned, he sighed, less from the\npain of his bruises than for the shame of being reduced to such a state\nbefore her. The princess took pity on him, and consoled him as well as\nshe could. \"Banish your regrets, my lord,\" she said, \"this accident has\nhappened solely in consequence of the feebleness of your horse, which\nhad more need of rest and food than of such an encounter as this. Nor\ncan your adversary gain any credit by it, since he has hurried away,\nnot venturing a second trial.\" While she thus consoled Sacripant they\nperceived a person approach, who seemed a courier, with bag and horn.\nAs soon as he came up, he accosted Sacripant, and inquired if he had\nseen a knight pass that way, bearing a white shield and with a white\nplume to his helmet. \"I have, indeed, seen too much of him,\" said\nSacripant, \"it is he who has brought me to the ground; but at least I\nhope to learn from you who that knight is.\" \"That I can easily inform\nyou,\" said the man; \"know then that, if you have been overthrown, you\nowe your fate to the high prowess of a lady as beautiful as she is\nbrave. It is the fair and illustrious Bradamante who has won from you\nthe honors of victory.\"\n\nAt these words the courier rode on his way, leaving Sacripant more\nconfounded and mortified than ever. In silence he mounted the horse of\nAngelica, taking the lady behind him on the croup, and rode away in\nsearch of a more secure asylum. Hardly had they ridden two miles when a\nnew sound was heard in the forest, and they perceived a gallant and\npowerful horse, which, leaping the ravines and dashing aside the\nbranches that opposed his passage, appeared before them, accoutred with\na rich harness adorned with gold.\n\n\"If I may believe my eyes, which penetrate with difficulty the\nunderwood,\" said Angelica, \"that horse that dashes so stoutly through\nthe bushes is Bayard, and I marvel how he seems to know the need we\nhave of him, mounted as we are both on one feeble animal.\" Sacripant,\ndismounting from the palfrey, approached the fiery courser, and\nattempted to seize his bridle, but the disdainful animal, turning from\nhim, launched at him a volley of kicks enough to have shattered a wall\nof marble. Bayard then approached Angelica with an air as gentle and\nloving as a faithful dog could his master after a long separation. For\nhe remembered how she had caressed him, and even fed him, in Albracca.\nShe took his bridle in her left hand, while with her right she patted\nhis neck. The beautiful animal, gifted with wonderful intelligence,\nseemed to submit entirely. Sacripant, seizing the moment to vault upon\nhim, controlled his curvetings, and Angelica, quitting the croup of the\npalfrey, regained her seat.\n\nBut, turning his eyes toward a place where was heard a noise of arms,\nSacripant beheld Rinaldo. That hero now loves Angelica more than his\nlife, and she flies him as the timid crane the falcon.\n\nThe fountain of which Angelica had drunk produced such an effect on the\nbeautiful queen that, with distressed countenance and trembling voice,\nshe conjured Sacripant not to wait the approach of Rinaldo, but to join\nher in flight.\n\n\"Am I, then,\" said Sacripant, \"of so little esteem with you that you\ndoubt my power to defend you? Do you forget the battle of Albracca, and\nhow, in your defence, I fought single-handed against Agrican and all\nhis knights?\"\n\nAngelica made no reply, uncertain what to do; but already Rinaldo was\ntoo near to be escaped. He advanced menacingly to the Circassian king,\nfor he recognized his horse.\n\n\"Vile thief,\" he cried, \"dismount from that horse, and prevent the\npunishment that is your due for daring to rob me of my property. Leave,\nalso, the princess in my hands; for it would indeed be a sin to suffer\nso charming a lady and so gallant a charger to remain in such keeping.\"\n\nThe king of Circassia, furious at being thus insulted, cried out, \"Thou\nliest, villain, in giving me the name of thief, which better belongs to\nthyself than to me. It is true, the beauty of this lady and the\nperfection of this horse are unequalled; come on, then, and let us try\nwhich of us is most worthy to possess them.\"\n\nAt these words the king of Circassia and Rinaldo attacked one another\nwith all their force, one fighting on foot, the other on horseback. You\nneed not, however, suppose that the Saracen king found any advantage in\nthis; for a young page, unused to horsemanship, could not have failed\nmore completely to manage Bayard than did this accomplished knight. The\nfaithful animal loved his master too well to injure him, and refused\nhis aid as well as his obedience to the hand of Sacripant, who could\nstrike but ineffectual blows, the horse backing when he wished him to\ngo forward, and dropping his head and arching his back, throwing out\nwith his legs, so as almost to shake the knight out of the saddle.\nSacripant, seeing that he could not manage him, watched his\nopportunity, rose on his saddle, and leapt lightly to the earth; then,\nrelieved from the embarrassment of the horse, renewed the combat on\nmore equal terms. Their skill to thrust and parry were equal; one\nrises, the other stoops; with one foot set firm they turn and wind, to\nlay on strokes or to dodge them. At last Rinaldo, throwing himself on\nthe Circassian, dealt him a blow so terrible that Fusberta, his good\nsword, cut in two the buckler of Sacripant, although it was made of\nbone, and covered with a thick plate of steel well tempered. The arm of\nthe Saracen was deprived of its defence, and almost palsied with the\nstroke. Angelica, perceiving how victory was likely to incline, and\nshuddering at the thought of becoming the prize of Rinaldo, hesitated\nno longer. Turning her horse's head, she fled with the utmost speed;\nand, in spite of the round pebbles which covered a steep descent, she\nplunged into a deep valley, trembling with the fear that Rinaldo was in\npursuit. At the bottom of this valley she encountered an aged hermit,\nwhose white beard flowed to his middle, and whose venerable appearance\nseemed to assure his piety.\n\nThis hermit, who appeared shrunk by age and fasting, travelled slowly,\nmounted upon a wretched ass. The princess, overcome with fear, conjured\nhim to save her life; and to conduct her to some port of the sea,\nwhence she might embark and quit France, never more to hear the odious\nname of Rinaldo.\n\nThe old hermit was something of a wizard. He comforted Angelica, and\npromised to protect her from all peril. Then he opened his scrip, and\ntook from thence a book, and had read but a single page when a goblin,\nobedient to his incantations, appeared, under the form of a laboring\nman, and demanded his orders. He received them, transported himself to\nthe place where the knights still maintained their conflict, and boldly\nstepped between the two.\n\n\"Tell me, I pray you,\" he said, \"what benefit will accrue to him who\nshall get the better in this contest? The object you are contending for\nis already disposed of; for the Paladin Orlando, without effort and\nwithout opposition, is now carrying away the princess Angelica to\nParis. You had better pursue them promptly; for if they reach Paris you\nwill never see her again.\"\n\nAt these words you might have seen those rival warriors confounded,\nstupefied, silently agreeing that they were affording their rival a\nfair opportunity to triumph over them. Rinaldo, approaching Bayard,\nbreathes a sigh of shame and rage, and swears a terrible oath that, if\nhe overtakes Orlando, he will tear his heart out. Then mounting Bayard\nand pressing his flanks with his spurs, he leaves the king of Circassia\non foot in the forest.\n\nLet it not appear strange that Rinaldo found Bayard obedient at last,\nafter having so long prevented any one from even touching his bridle;\nfor that fine animal had an intelligence almost human; he had fled from\nhis master only to draw him on the track of Angelica, and enable him to\nrecover her. He saw when the princess fled from the battle, and Rinaldo\nbeing then engaged in a fight on foot, Bayard found himself free to\nfollow the traces of Angelica. Thus he had drawn his master after him,\nnot permitting him to approach, and had brought him to the sight of the\nprincess. But Bayard now, deceived like his master with the false\nintelligence of the goblin, submits to be mounted and to serve his\nmaster as usual, and Rinaldo, animated with rage, makes him fly toward\nParis, more slowly than his wishes, though the speed of Bayard\noutstripped the winds. Full of impatience to encounter Orlando, he gave\nbut a few hours that night to sleep. Early the next day he saw before\nhim the great city, under the walls of which the Emperor Charles had\ncollected the scattered remains of his army. Foreseeing that he would\nsoon be attacked on all sides, the Emperor had caused the ancient\nfortifications to be repaired, and new ones to be built, surrounded by\nwide and deep ditches. The desire to hold the field against the enemy\nmade him seize every means of procuring new allies. He hoped to receive\nfrom England aid sufficient to enable him to form a new camp, and as\nsoon as Rinaldo rejoined him he selected him to go as his ambassador\ninto England, to plead for auxiliaries. Rinaldo was far from pleased\nwith his commission, but he obeyed the Emperor's commands, without\ngiving himself time to devote a single day to the object nearest his\nheart. He hastened to Calais, and lost not a moment in embarking for\nEngland, ardently desiring a hasty despatch of his commission, and a\nspeedy return to France.\n\n\n\nBRADAMANTE AND ROGERO\n\nBradamante, the knight of the white plume and shield, whose sudden\nappearance and encounter with Sacripant we have already told, was in\nquest of Rogero, from whom chance had separated her, almost at the\nbeginning of their acquaintance. After her encounter with Sacripant\nBradamante pursued her way through the forest, in hopes of rejoining\nRogero, and arrived at last on the brink of a fair fountain.\n\nThis fountain flowed through a broad meadow. Ancient trees overshadowed\nit, and travellers, attracted by the sweet murmur of its waters,\nstopped there to cool themselves. Bradamante, casting her eyes on all\nsides to enjoy the beauties of the spot, perceived, under the shade of\na tree, a knight reclining, who seemed to be oppressed with the deepest\ngrief.\n\nBradamante accosted him, and asked to be informed of the cause of his\ndistress. \"Alas! my lord,\" said he, \"I lament a young and charming\nfriend, my affianced wife, who has been torn from me by a villain,--let\nme rather call him a demon,--who, on a winged horse, descended from the\nair, seized her, and bore her screaming to his den. I have pursued them\nover rocks and through ravines till my horse is no longer able to bear\nme, and I now wait only for death.\" He added that already a vain\nattempt on his behalf had been made by two knights, whom chance had\nbrought to the spot. Their names were Gradasso, king of Sericane, and\nRogero, the Moor. Both had been overcome by the wiles of the enchanter,\nand were added to the number of the captives, whom he held in an\nimpregnable castle, situated on the height of the mountain. At the\nmention of Rogero's name Bradamante started with delight, which was\nsoon changed to an opposite sentiment when she heard that her lover was\na prisoner in the toils of the enchanter. \"Sir Knight,\" she said, \"do\nnot surrender yourself to despair; this day may be more happy for you\nthan you think, if you will only lead me to the castle which enfolds\nher whom you deplore.\"\n\nThe knight responded, \"After having lost all that made life dear to me\nI have no motive to avoid the dangers of the enterprise, and I will do\nas you request; but I forewarn you of the perils you will have to\nencounter. If you fall impute it not to me.\"\n\nHaving thus spoken, they took their way to the castle, but were\novertaken by a messenger from the camp, who had been sent in quest of\nBradamante to summon her back to the army, where her presence was\nneeded to reassure her disheartened forces, and withstand the advance\nof the Moors.\n\nThe mournful knight, whose name was Pinabel, thus became aware that\nBradamante was a scion of the house of Clermont, between which and his\nown of Mayence there existed an ancient feud. From this moment the\ntraitor sought only how he might be rid of the company of Bradamante,\nfrom whom he feared no good would come to him, but rather mortal\ninjury, if his name and lineage became known to her. For he judged her\nby his own base model, and, knowing his ill deserts, he feared to\nreceive his due.\n\nBradamante, in spite of the summons to return to the army, could not\nresolve to leave her lover in captivity, and determined first to finish\nthe adventure on which she was engaged. Pinabel leading the way, they\nat length arrived at a wood, in the centre of which rose a steep, rocky\nmountain. Pinabel, who now thought of nothing else but how he might\nescape from Bradamante, proposed to ascend the mountain to extend his\nview, in order to discover a shelter for the night, if any there might\nbe within sight. Under this pretence he left Bradamante, and advanced\nup the side of the mountain till he came to a cleft in the rock, down\nwhich he looked, and perceived that it widened below into a spacious\ncavern. Meanwhile Bradamante, fearful of losing her guide, had followed\nclose on his footsteps, and rejoined him at the mouth of the cavern.\nThen the traitor, seeing the impossibility of escaping her, conceived\nanother design. He told her that before her approach he had seen in the\ncavern a young and beautiful damsel, whose rich dress announced her\nhigh birth, who with tears and lamentations implored assistance; that\nbefore he could descend to relieve her a ruffian had seized her, and\nhurried her away into the recesses of the cavern.\n\nBradamante, full of truth and courage, readily believed this lie of the\nMayencian traitor. Eager to succor the damsel, she looked round for the\nmeans of facilitating the descent, and seeing a large elm with\nspreading branches she lopped off with her sword one of the largest,\nand thrust it into the opening. She told Pinabel to hold fast to the\nlarger end, while, grasping the branches with her hands, she let\nherself down into the cavern.\n\nThe traitor smiled at seeing her thus suspended, and, asking her in\nmockery, \"Are you a good leaper?\" he let go the branch with perfidious\nglee, and saw Bradamante precipitated to the bottom of the cave. \"I\nwish your whole race were there with you,\" he muttered, \"that you might\nall perish together.\"\n\nBut Pinabel's atrocious design was not accomplished. The twigs and\nfoliage of the branch broke its descent, and Bradamante, not seriously\ninjured, though stunned with her fall, was reserved for other\nadventures.\n\nAs soon as she recovered from the shock Bradamante cast her eyes around\nand perceived a door, through which she passed into a second cavern,\nlarger and loftier than the first. It had the appearance of a\nsubterranean temple. Columns of the purest alabaster adorned it, and\nsupported the roof; a simple altar rose in the middle; a lamp, whose\nradiance was reflected by the alabaster walls, cast a mild light around.\n\nBradamante, inspired by a sense of religious awe, approached the altar,\nand, falling on her knees, poured forth her prayers and thanks to the\nPreserver of her life, invoking the protection of his power. At that\nmoment a small door opened, and a female issued from it with naked\nfeet, and flowing robe and hair, who called her by her name, and thus\naddressed her: \"Brave and generous Bradamante, know that it is a power\nfrom above that has brought you hither. The spirit of Merlin, whose\nlast earthly abode was in this place, has warned me of your arrival,\nand of the fate that awaits you. This famous grotto,\" she continued,\n\"was the work of the enchanter Merlin; here his ashes repose. You have\nno doubt heard how this sage and virtuous enchanter ceased to be.\nVictim of the artful fairy of the lake, Merlin, by a fatal compliance\nwith her request, laid himself down living in his tomb, without power\nto resist the spell laid upon him by that ingrate, who retained him\nthere as long as he lived. His spirit hovers about this spot, and will\nnot leave it, until the last trumpet shall summon the dead to judgment.\nHe answers the questions of those who approach his tomb, where perhaps\nyou may be privileged to hear his voice.\"\n\nBradamante, astonished at these words, and the objects which met her\nview, knew not whether she was awake or asleep. Confused, but modest,\nshe cast down her eyes, and a blush overspread her face. \"Ah, what am\nI,\" said she, \"that so great a prophet should deign to speak to me!\"\nStill, with a secret satisfaction, she followed the priestess, who led\nher to the tomb of Merlin. This tomb was constructed of a species of\nstone hard and resplendent like fire. The rays which beamed from the\nstone sufficed to light up that terrible place, where the sun's rays\nnever penetrated; but I know not whether that light was the effect of a\ncertain phosphorescence of the stone itself, or of the many talismans\nand charms with which it was wrought over.\n\nBradamante had hardly passed the threshold of this sacred place when\nthe spirit of the enchanter saluted her with a voice firm and distinct:\n\"May thy designs be prosperous, O chaste and noble maiden, the future\nmother of heroes, the glory of Italy, and destined to fill the whole\nworld with their fame. Great captains, renowned knights, shall be\nnumbered among your descendants, who shall defend the Church and\nrestore their country to its ancient splendor. Princes, wise as\nAugustus and the sage Numa, shall bring back the age of gold.\n[Footnote: This prophecy is introduced by Ariosto in this place to\ncompliment the noble house of Este, the princes of his native state,\nthe dukedom of Ferrara.] To accomplish these grand destinies it is\nordained that you shall wed the illustrious Rogero. Fly then to his\ndeliverance, and lay prostrate in the dust the traitor who has snatched\nhim from you, and now holds him in chains!\"\n\nMerlin ceased with these words, and left to Melissa, the priestess, the\ncharge of more fully instructing the maiden in her future course.\n\"To-morrow,\" said she, \"I will conduct you to the castle on the rock\nwhere Rogero is held captive. I will not leave you till I have guided\nyou through this wild wood, and I will direct you on your way so that\nyou shall be in no danger of mistaking it.\"\n\nThe next morning Melissa conducted Bradamante between rocks and\nprecipices, crossing rapid torrents, and traversing intricate passes,\nemploying the time in imparting to her such information as was\nnecessary to enable her to bring her design to a successful issue.\n\n\"Not only would the castle, impenetrable by force, and that winged\nhorse of his baffle your efforts, but know that he possesses also a\nbuckler whence flashes a light so brilliant that the eyes of all who\nlook upon it are blinded. Think not to avoid it by shutting your eyes,\nfor how then will you be able to avoid his blows, and make him feel\nyour own? But I will teach you the proper course to pursue.\n\n\"Agramant, the Moorish prince, possesses a ring stolen from a queen of\nIndia, which has power to render of no avail all enchantments.\nAgramant, knowing that Rogero is of more importance to him than any one\nof his warriors, is desirous of rescuing him from the power of the\nenchanter, and has sent for that purpose Brunello, the most crafty and\nsagacious of his servants, provided with his wonderful ring, and he is\neven now at hand, bent on this enterprise. But, beautiful Bradamante,\nas I desire that no one but yourself shall have the glory of delivering\nfrom thraldom your future spouse, listen while I disclose the means of\nsuccess. Following this path which leads by the seashore, you will come\nere long to a hostelry, where the Saracen Brunello will arrive shortly\nbefore you. You will readily know him by his stature, under four feet,\nhis great disproportioned head, his squint eyes, his livid hue, his\nthick eyebrows joining his tufted beard. His dress, moreover, that of a\ncourier, will point him out to you.\n\n\"It will be easy for you to enter into conversation with him,\nannouncing yourself as a knight seeking combat with the enchanter, but\nlet not the knave suspect that you know anything about the ring. I\ndoubt not that he will be your guide to the castle of the enchanter.\nAccept his offer, but take care to keep behind him till you come in\nsight of the brilliant dome of the castle. Then hesitate not to strike\nhim dead, for the wretch deserves no pity, and take from him the ring.\nBut let him not suspect your intention, for by putting the ring into\nhis mouth he will instantly become invisible, and disappear from your\neyes.\"\n\nSaying thus, the sage Melissa and the fair Bradamante arrived near the\ncity of Bordeaux, where the rich and wide river Garonne pours the\ntribute of its waves into the sea. They parted with tender embraces.\nBradamante, intent wholly on her purpose, hastened to arrive at the\nhostelry, where Brunello had preceded her a few moments only. The young\nheroine knew him without difficulty. She accosted him, and put to him\nsome slight questions, to which he replied with adroit falsehoods.\nBradamante, on her part, concealed from him her sex, her religion, her\ncountry, and the blood from whence she sprung. While they talk\ntogether, sudden cries are heard from all parts of the hostelry. \"O\nqueen of heaven!\" exclaimed Bradamante, \"what can be the cause of this\nsudden alarm?\" She soon learned the cause. Host, children, domestics,\nall, with upturned eyes, as if they saw a comet or a great eclipse,\nwere gazing on a prodigy which seemed to pass the bounds of\npossibility. She beheld distinctly a winged horse, mounted with a\ncavalier in rich armor, cleaving the air with rapid flight. The wings\nof this strange courser were wide extended, and covered with feathers\nof various colors. The polished armor of the knight made them shine\nwith rainbow tints. In a short time the horse and rider disappeared\nbehind the summits of the mountains.\n\n\"It is an enchanter,\" said the host, \"a magician who often is seen\ntraversing the air in that way. Sometimes he flies aloft as if among\nthe stars, and at others skims along the land. He possesses a wonderful\ncastle on the top of the Pyrenees. Many knights have shown their\ncourage by going to attack him, but none have ever returned, from which\nit is to be feared they have lost either their life or their liberty.\"\n\nBradamante, addressing the host, said, \"Could you furnish me a guide to\nconduct me to the castle of this enchanter?\" \"By my faith,\" said\nBrunello, interrupting, \"that you shall not seek in vain; I have it all\nin writing, and I will myself conduct you.\" Bradamante, with thanks,\naccepted him for her guide.\n\nThe host had a tolerable horse to dispose of, which Bradamante\nbargained for, and the next day, at the first dawn of morning, she took\nher route by a narrow valley, taking care to have the Saracen Brunello\nlead the way.\n\nThey reached the summit of the Pyrenees, whence one may look down on\nFrance, Spain, and the two seas. From this height they descended again\nby a fatiguing road into a deep valley. From the middle of this valley\nan isolated mountain rose, composed of rough and perpendicular rock, on\nwhose summit was the castle, surrounded with a wall of brass. Brunello\nsaid, \"Yonder is the stronghold where the enchanter keeps his\nprisoners; one must have wings to mount thither; it is easy to see that\nthe aid of a flying horse must be necessary for the master of this\ncastle, which he uses for his prison and for his abode.\"\n\nBradamante, sufficiently instructed, saw that the time had now come to\npossess herself of the ring; but she could not resolve to slay a\ndefenceless man. She seized Brunello before he was aware, bound him to\na tree, and took from him the ring which he wore on one of his fingers.\nThe cries and entreaties of the perfidious Saracen moved her not. She\nadvanced to the foot of the rock whereon the castle stood, and, to draw\nthe magician to the combat, sounded her horn, adding to it cries of\ndefiance.\n\nThe enchanter delayed not to present himself, mounted on his winged\nhorse. Bradamante was struck with surprise mixed with joy when she saw\nthat this person, described as so formidable, bore no lance nor club,\nnor any other deadly weapon. He had only on his arm a buckler, covered\nwith a cloth, and in his hand an open book. As to the winged horse,\nthere was no enchantment about him. He was a natural animal, of a\nspecies which exists in the Riphaean mountains. Like a griffin, he had\nthe head of an eagle, claws armed with talons, and wings covered with\nfeathers, the rest of his body being that of a horse. This strange\nanimal is called a Hippogriff.\n\nThe heroine attacked the enchanter on his approach, striking on this\nside and on that, with all the energy of a violent combat, but wounding\nonly the wind; and after this pretended attack had lasted some time\ndismounted from her horse, as if hoping to do battle more effectually\non foot. The enchanter now prepares to employ his sole weapon, by\nuncovering the magic buckler which never failed to subdue an enemy by\ndepriving him of his senses. Bradamante, confiding in her ring,\nobserved all the motions of her adversary, and, at the unveiling of the\nshield, cast herself on the ground, pretending that the splendor of the\nshield had overcome her, but in reality to induce the enchanter to\ndismount and approach her.\n\nIt happened according to her wish. When the enchanter saw her prostrate\nhe made his horse alight on the ground, and, dismounting, fixed the\nshield on the pommel of his saddle, and approached in order to secure\nthe fallen warrior. Bradamante, who watched him intently, as soon as\nshe saw him near at hand, sprang up, seized him vigorously, threw him\ndown, and, with the same chain which the enchanter had prepared for\nherself, bound him fast, without his being able to make any effectual\nresistance.\n\nThe enchanter, with the accents of despair, exclaimed, \"Take my life,\nyoung man!\" but Bradamante was far from complying with such a wish.\nDesirous of knowing the name of the enchanter, and for what purpose he\nhad formed with so much art this impregnable fortress, she commanded\nhim to inform her.\n\n\"Alas!\" replied the magician, while tears flowed down his cheeks, \"it\nis not to conceal booty, nor for any culpable design that I have built\nthis castle; it was only to guard the life of a young knight, the\nobject of my tenderest affection, my art having taught me that he is\ndestined to become a Christian, and to perish, shortly after, by the\nblackest of treasons.\n\n\"This youth, named Rogero, is the most beautiful and most accomplished\nof knights. It is I, the unhappy Atlantes, who have reared him from his\nchildhood. The call of honor and the desire of glory led him from me to\nfollow Agramant, his prince, in his invasion of France, and I, more\ndevoted to Rogero than the tenderest of parents, have sought the means\nof bringing him back to this abode, in the hope of saving him from the\ncruel fate that menaces him.\n\n\"For this purpose I have got him in my possession by the same means as\nI attempted to employ against you; and by which I have succeeded in\ncollecting a great many knights and ladies in my castle. My purpose was\nto render my beloved pupil's captivity light, by affording him society\nto amuse him, and keep his thoughts from running on subjects of war and\nglory. Alas! my cares have been in vain! Yet, take, I beseech you,\nwhatever else I have, but spare me my beloved pupil. Take this shield,\ntake this winged courser, deliver such of your friends as you may find\namong my prisoners, deliver them all if you will, but leave me my\nbeloved Rogero; or if you will snatch him too from me, take also my\nlife, which will cease then to be to me worth preserving.\"\n\nBradamante replied: \"Old man, hope not to move me by your vain\nentreaties. It is precisely the liberty of Rogero that I require. You\nwould keep him here in bondage and in slothful pleasure, to save him\nfrom a fate which you foresee. Vain old man! how can you foresee his\nfate when you could not foresee your own? You desire me to take your\nlife. No, my aim and my soul refuse the request.\" This said, she\nrequired the magician to go before, and guide her to the castle. The\nprisoners were set at liberty, though some, in their secret hearts,\nregretted the voluptuous life which was thus brought to an end.\nBradamante and Rogero met one another with transports of joy.\n\nThey descended from the mountain to the spot where the encounter had\ntaken place. There they found the Hippogriff, with the magic buckler in\nits wrapper, hanging to his saddle-bow. Bradamante advanced to seize\nthe bridle; the Hippogriff seemed to wait her approach, but before she\nreached him he spread his wings and flew away to a neighboring hill,\nand in the same manner, a second time, eluded her efforts. Rogero and\nthe other liberated knights dispersed over the plain and hilltops to\nsecure him, and at last the animal allowed Rogero to seize his rein.\nThe fearless Rogero hesitated not to vault upon his back, and let him\nfeel his spurs, which so roused his mettle that, after galloping a\nshort distance, he suddenly spread his wings, and soared into the air.\nBradamante had the grief to see her lover snatched away from her at the\nvery moment of reunion. Rogero, who knew not the art of directing the\nhorse, was unable to control his flight. He found himself carried over\nthe tops of the mountains, so far above them that he could hardly\ndistinguish what was land and what water. The Hippogriff directed his\nflight to the west, and cleaved the air as swiftly as a new-rigged\nvessel cuts the waves, impelled by the freshest and most favorable\ngales.\n\n\n\nASTOLPHO AND THE ENCHANTRESS\n\nIn the long flight which Rogero took on the back of the Hippogriff he\nwas carried over land and sea, unknowing whither. As soon as he had\ngained some control over the animal he made him alight on the nearest\nland. When he came near enough to earth Rogero leapt lightly from his\nback, and tied the animal to a myrtle-tree. Near the spot flowed the\npure waters of a fountain, surrounded by cedars and palm-trees. Rogero\nlaid aside his shield, and, removing his helmet, breathed with delight\nthe fresh air, and cooled his lips with the waters of the fountain. For\nwe cannot wonder that he was excessively fatigued, considering the ride\nhe had taken. He was preparing to taste the sweets of repose when he\nperceived that the Hippogriff, which he had tied by the bridle to a\nmyrtle-tree, frightened at something, was making violent efforts to\ndisengage himself. His struggle shook the myrtle-tree so that many of\nits beautiful leaves were torn off, and strewed the ground.\n\nA sound like that which issues from burning wood seemed to come from\nthe myrtle-tree, at first faint and indistinct, but growing stronger by\ndegrees, and at length was audible as a voice which spoke in this\nmanner: \"O knight, if the tenderness of your heart corresponds to the\nbeauty of your person, relieve me, I pray you, from this tormenting\nanimal. I suffer enough inwardly without having outward evils added to\nmy lot.\"\n\nRogero, at the first accents of this voice, turned his eyes promptly on\nthe myrtle, hastened to it, and stood fixed in astonishment when he\nperceived that the voice issued from the tree itself. He immediately\nuntied his horse, and, flushed with surprise and regret, exclaimed,\n\"Whoever thou art, whether mortal or the goddess of these woods,\nforgive me, I beseech you, my involuntary fault. Had I imagined that\nthis hard bark covered a being possessed of feeling, could I have\nexposed such a beautiful myrtle to the insults of this steed? May the\nsweet influences of the sky and air speedily repair the injury I have\ndone! For my part, I promise by the sovereign lady of my heart to do\neverything you wish in order to merit your forgiveness.\"\n\nAt these words the myrtle seemed to tremble from root to stem, and\nRogero remarked that a moisture as of tears trickled down its bark,\nlike that which exudes from a log placed on the fire. It then spoke:\n\n\"The kindness which inspires your words compels me to disclose to you\nwho I once was, and by what fatality I have been changed into this\nshape. My name was Astolpho, cousin of Orlando and Rinaldo, whose fame\nhas filled the earth. I was myself reckoned among the bravest paladins\nof France, and was by birth entitled to reign over England, after Otho,\nmy father. Returning from the distant East, with Rinaldo and many other\nbrave knights, called home to aid with our arms the great Emperor of\nFrance, we reached a spot where the powerful enchantress Alcina\npossessed a castle on the borders of the sea. She had gone to the\nwater-side to amuse herself with fishing, and we paused to see how, by\nher art, without hook or line, she drew from the water whatever she\nwould.\n\n\"Not far from the shore an enormous whale showed a back so broad and\nmotionless that it looked like an island. Alcina had fixed her eyes on\nme, and planned to get me into her power. Addressing us, she said:\n'This is the hour when the prettiest mermaid in the sea comes regularly\nevery day to the shore of yonder island. She sings so sweetly that the\nvery waves flow smoother at the sound. If you wish to hear her come\nwith me to her resort.' So saying, Alcina pointed to the fish, which we\nall supposed to be an island. I, who was rash, did not hesitate to\nfollow her; but swam my horse over, and mounted on the back of the\nfish. In vain Rinaldo and Dudon made signs to me to beware; Alcina,\nsmiling, took me in charge, and led the way. No sooner were we mounted\nupon him than the whale moved off, spreading his great fins, and cleft\nrapidly the waters. I then saw my folly, but it was too late to repent.\nAlcina soothed my anger, and professed that what she had done was for\nlove of me. Ere long we arrived at this island, where at first\neverything was done to reconcile me to my lot, and to make my days pass\nhappily away. But soon Alcina, sated with her conquest, grew\nindifferent, then weary of me, and at last, to get rid of me, changed\nme into this form, as she had done to many lovers before me, making\nsome of them olives, some palms, some cedars, changing others into\nfountains, rocks, or even into wild beasts. And thou, courteous knight,\nwhom accident has brought to this enchanted isle, beware that she get\nnot the power over thee, or thou shalt haply be made like us, a tree, a\nfountain, or a rock.\"\n\nRogero expressed his astonishment at this recital. Astolpho added that\nthe island was in great part subject to the sway of Alcina. By the aid\nof her sister Morgana, she had succeeded in dispossessing a third\nsister, Logestilla, of nearly the whole of her patrimony, for the whole\nisle was hers originally by her father's bequest. But Logestilla was\ntemperate and sage, while the other sisters were false and voluptuous.\nHer empire was divided from theirs by a gulf and chain of mountains,\nwhich alone had thus far prevented her sister from usurping it.\n\nAstolpho here ended his tale, and Rogero, who knew that he was the\ncousin of Bradamante, would gladly have devised some way for his\nrelief; but, as that was out of his power, he consoled him as well as\nhe could, and then begged to be told the way to the palace of\nLogestilla, and how to avoid that of Alcina. Astolpho directed him to\ntake the road to the left, though rough and full of rocks. He warned\nhim that this road would present serious obstacles; that troops of\nmonsters would oppose his passage, employed by the art of Alcina to\nprevent her subjects from escaping from her dominion. Rogero thanked\nthe myrtle, and prepared to set out on his way.\n\nHe at first thought he would mount the winged horse, and scale the\nmountain on his back; but he was too uncertain of his power to control\nhim to wish to encounter the hazard of another flight through the air,\nbesides that he was almost famished for the want of food. So he led the\nhorse after him, and took the road on foot, which for some distance led\nequally to the dominions of both the sisters.\n\nHe had not advanced more than two miles when he saw before him the\nsuperb city of Alcina. It was surrounded with a wall of gold, which\nseemed to reach the skies. I know that some think that this wall was\nnot of real gold, but only the work of alchemy; it matters not; I\nprefer to think it gold, for it certainly shone like gold.\n\nA broad and level road led to the gates of the city, and from this\nanother branched off, narrow and rough, which led to the mountain\nregion. Rogero took without hesitation the narrow road; but he had no\nsooner entered upon it than he was assailed by a numerous troop which\nopposed his passage.\n\nYou never have seen anything so ridiculous, so extraordinary, as this\nhost of hobgoblins were. Some of them bore the human form from the neck\nto the feet, but had the head of a monkey or a cat; others had the legs\nand the ears of a horse; old men and women, bald and hideous, ran\nhither and thither as if out of their senses, half clad in the shaggy\nskins of beasts; one rode full speed on a horse without a bridle,\nanother jogged along mounted on an ass or a cow; others, full of\nagility, skipped about, and clung to the tails and manes of the animals\nwhich their companions rode. Some blew horns, others brandished\ndrinking-cups; some were armed with spits, and some with pitchforks.\nOne, who appeared to be the captain, had an enormous belly and a gross\nfat head; he was mounted on a tortoise, that waddled, now this way, now\nthat, without keeping any one direction.\n\nOne of these monsters, who had something approaching the human form,\nthough he had the neck, ears, and muzzle of a dog, set himself to bark\nfuriously at Rogero, to make him turn off to the right, and reenter\nupon the road to the gay city; but the brave chevalier exclaimed, \"That\nwill I not, so long as I can use this sword,\"--and he thrust the point\ndirectly at his face. The monster tried to strike him with a lance, but\nRogero was too quick for him, and thrust his sword through his body, so\nthat it appeared a hand's breadth behind his back. The paladin, now\ngiving full vent to his rage, laid about him vigorously among the\nrabble, cleaving one to the teeth, another to the girdle; but the troop\nwere so numerous, and in spite of his blows pressed around him so\nclose, that, to clear his way, he must have had as many arms as\nBriareus.\n\nIf Rogero had uncovered the shield of the enchanter, which hung at his\nsaddle-bow, he might easily have vanquished this monstrous rout; but\nperhaps he did not think of it, and perhaps he preferred to seek his\ndefence nowhere but in his good sword. At that moment, when his\nperplexity was at its height, he saw issue from the city gate two young\nbeauties, whose air and dress proclaimed their rank and gentle nurture.\nEach of them was mounted on a unicorn, whose whiteness surpassed that\nof ermine. They advanced to the meadow where Rogero was contending so\nvaliantly against the hobgoblins, who all retired at their approach.\nThey drew near, they extended their hands to the young warrior, whose\ncheeks glowed with the flush of exercise and modesty. Grateful for\ntheir assistance, he expressed his thanks, and, having no heart to\nrefuse them, followed their guidance to the gate of the city.\n\nThis grand and beautiful entrance was adorned by a portico of four vast\ncolumns, all of diamond. Whether they were real diamond or artificial I\ncannot say. What matter is it, so long as they appeared to the eye like\ndiamond, and nothing could be more gay and splendid.\n\nOn the threshold, and between the columns, was seen a bevy of charming\nyoung women, who played and frolicked together. They all ran to receive\nRogero, and conducted him into the palace, which appeared like a\nparadise.\n\nWe might well call by that name this abode, where the hours flew by,\nwithout account, in ever-new delights. The bare idea of satiety, want,\nand, above all, of age, never entered the minds of the inhabitants.\nThey experienced no sensations except those of luxury and gayety; the\ncup of happiness seemed for them ever-flowing and exhaustless. The two\nyoung damsels to whom Rogero owed his deliverance from the hobgoblins\nconducted him to the apartment of their mistress. The beautiful Alcina\nadvanced, and greeted him with an air at once dignified and courteous.\nAll her court surrounded the paladin, and rendered him the most\nflattering attentions. The castle was less admirable for its\nmagnificence than for the charms of those who inhabited it. They were\nof either sex, well matched in beauty, youth, and grace; but among this\ncharming group the brilliant Alcina shone, as the sun outshines the\nstars. The young warrior was fascinated. All that he had heard from the\nmyrtle-tree appeared to him but a vile calumny. How could he suspect\nthat falsehood and treason veiled themselves under smiles and the\ningenuous air of truth? He doubted not that Astolpho had deserved his\nfate, and perhaps a punishment more severe; he regarded all his stories\nas dictated by a disappointed spirit, and a thirst for revenge. But we\nmust not condemn Rogero too harshly, for he was the victim of magic\npower.\n\nThey seated themselves at table, and immediately harmonious lyres and\nharps waked the air with the most ravishing notes. The charms of poetry\nwere added in entertaining recitals; the magnificence of the feast\nwould have done credit to a royal board. The traitress forgot nothing\nwhich might charm the paladin, and attach him to the spot, meaning,\nwhen she should grow tired of him, to metamorphose him as she had done\nothers. In the same manner passed each succeeding day. Games of\npleasant exercise, the chase, the dance, or rural sports, made the\nhours pass quickly; while they gave zest to the refreshment of the\nbath, or sleep.\n\nThus Rogero led a life of ease and luxury, while Charlemagne and\nAgramant were struggling for empire. But I cannot linger with him while\nthe amiable and courageous Bradamante is night and day directing her\nuncertain steps to every spot where the slightest chance invites her,\nin the hope of recovering Rogero.\n\nI will therefore say that, having sought him in vain in fields and in\ncities, she knew not whither next to direct her steps. She did not\napprehend the death of Rogero. The fall of such a hero would have\nreechoed from the Hydaspes to the farthest river of the West; but, not\nknowing whether he was on the earth or in the air, she concluded, as a\nlast resource, to return to the cavern which contained the tomb of\nMerlin, to ask of him some sure direction to the object of her search.\n\nWhile this thought occupied her mind, Melissa, the sage enchantress,\nsuddenly appeared before her. This virtuous and beneficent magician had\ndiscovered by her spells that Rogero was passing his time in pleasure\nand idleness, forgetful of his honor and his sovereign. Not able to\nendure the thought that one who was born to be a hero should waste his\nyears in base repose, and leave a sullied reputation in the memory of\nsurvivors, she saw that vigorous measures must be employed to draw him\nforth into the paths of virtue. Melissa was not blinded by her\naffection for the amiable paladin, like Atlantes, who, intent only on\npreserving Rogero's life, cared nothing for his fame. It was that old\nenchanter whose arts had guided the Hippogriff to the isle of the too\ncharming Alcina, where he hoped his favorite would learn to forget\nhonor, and lose the love of glory.\n\nAt the sight of Melissa joy lighted up the countenance of Bradamante,\nand hope animated her breast. Melissa concealed nothing from her, but\ntold her how Rogero was in the toils of Alcina. Bradamante was plunged\nin grief and terror; but the kind enchantress calmed her, dispelled her\nfears, and promised that before many days she would lead back the\npaladin to her feet.\n\n\"My daughter,\" she said, \"give me the ring which you wear, and which\npossesses the power to overcome enchantments. By means of it I doubt\nnot but that I may enter the stronghold where the false Alcina holds\nRogero in durance, and may succeed in vanquishing her and liberating\nhim.\" Bradamante unhesitatingly delivered her the ring, recommending\nRogero to her best efforts. Melissa then summoned by her art a huge\npalfrey, black as jet, excepting one foot, which was bay. Mounted upon\nthis animal, she rode with such speed that by the next morning she had\nreached the abode of Alcina.\n\nShe here transformed herself into the perfect resemblance of the old\nmagician Atlantes, adding a palm-breadth to her height, and enlarging\nher whole figure. Her chin she covered with a long beard, and seamed\nher whole visage well with wrinkles. She assumed also his voice and\nmanner, and watched her chance to find Rogero alone. At last she found\nhim, dressed in a rich tunic of silk and gold, a collar of precious\nstones about his neck, and his arms, once so rough with exercise,\ndecorated with bracelets. His air and his every motion indicated\neffeminacy, and he seemed to retain nothing of Rogero but the name;\nsuch power had the enchantress obtained over him.\n\nMelissa, under the form of his old instructor, presented herself before\nhim, wearing a stern and serious visage. \"Is this, then,\" she said,\n\"the fruit of all my labors? Is it for this that I fed you on the\nmarrow of bears and lions, that I taught you to subdue dragons, and,\nlike Hercules, strangle serpents in your youthful grasp, only to make\nyou, by all my cares, a feeble Adonis? My nightly watchings of the\nstars, of the yet warm fibres of animals, the lots I have cast, the\npoints of nativity that I have calculated, have they all falsely\nindicated that you were born for greatness? Who could have believed\nthat you would become the slave of a base enchantress? O Rogero, learn\nto know this Alcina, learn to understand her arts and to countervail\nthem. Take this ring, place it on your finger, return to her presence,\nand see for yourself what are her real charms.\"\n\nAt these words, Rogero, confused, abashed, cast his eyes upon the\nground, and knew not what to answer. Melissa seized the moment, slipped\nthe ring on his finger, and the paladin was himself again. What a\nthunderclap to him! Overcome by shame, he dared not to encounter the\nlooks of his instructor. When at last he raised his eyes he beheld not\nthat venerable form, but the priestess Melissa, who in virtue of the\nring now appeared in her true person. She told him of the motives which\nhad led her to come to his rescue, of the griefs and regrets of\nBradamante, and of her unwearied search for him. \"That charming\nAmazon,\" she said, \"sends you this ring, which is a sovereign antidote\nto all enchantments. She would have sent you her heart in my hands, if\nit would have had greater power to serve you.\"\n\nIt was needless for Melissa to say more. Rogero's love for Alcina,\nbeing but the work of enchantment, vanished as soon as the enchantment\nwas withdrawn, and he now hated her with an equal intensity, seeing no\nlonger anything in her but her vices, and feeling only resentment for\nthe shame that she had put upon him.\n\nHis surprise when he again beheld Alcina was no less than his\nindignation. Fortified by his ring from her enchantments, he saw her as\nshe was, a monster of ugliness. All her charms were artificial, and,\ntruly viewed, were rather deformities. She was, in fact, older than\nHecuba or the Sibyl of Cumae; but an art, which it is to be regretted\nour times have lost, enabled her to appear charming, and to clothe\nherself in all the attractions of youth. Rogero now saw all this, but,\ngoverned by the counsels of Melissa, he concealed his surprise, assumed\nunder some pretext his armor, long neglected, and bound to his side\nBelisarda, his trusty sword, taking also the buckler of Atlantes,\ncovered with its veil.\n\nHe then selected a horse from the stables of Alcina, without exciting\nher suspicions; but he left the Hippogriff, by the advice of Melissa,\nwho promised to take him in charge, and train him to a more manageable\nstate. The horse he took was Rabican, which belonged to Astolpho. He\nrestored the ring to Melissa.\n\nRogero had not ridden far when he met one of the huntsmen of Alcina,\nbearing a falcon on his wrist, and followed by a dog. The huntsman was\nmounted on a powerful horse, and came boldly up to the paladin,\ndemanding, in a somewhat imperious manner, whither he was going so\nrapidly. Rogero disdained to stop or to reply; whereupon the huntsman,\nnot doubting that he was about making his escape, said, \"What if I,\nwith my falcon, stop your ride?\" So saying, he threw off the bird,\nwhich even Rabican could not equal in speed. The huntsman then leapt\nfrom his horse, and the animal, open-mouthed, darted after Rogero with\nthe swiftness of an arrow. The huntsman also ran as if the wind or fire\nbore him, and the dog was equal to Rabican in swiftness. Rogero,\nfinding flight impossible, stopped and faced his pursuers; but his\nsword was useless against such foes. The insolent huntsman assailed him\nwith words, and struck him with his whip, the only weapon he had; the\ndog bit his feet, and the horse drove at him with his hoofs. At the\nsame time the falcon flew over his head and over Rabican's and attacked\nthem with claws and wings, so that the horse in his fright began to be\nunmanageable. At that moment the sound of trumpets and cymbals was\nheard in the valley, and it was evident that Alcina had ordered out all\nher array to go in pursuit. Rogero felt that there was no time to be\nlost, and luckily remembered the shield of Atlantes, which he bore\nsuspended from his neck. He unveiled it, and the charm worked\nwonderfully. The huntsman, the dog, the horse, fell flat; the trembling\nwings of the falcon could no longer sustain her, and she fell senseless\nto the ground. Rogero, rid of their annoyances, left them in their\ntrance, and rode away.\n\nMeanwhile Alcina, with all the force she could muster, sallied forth\nfrom her palace in pursuit. Melissa, left behind, took advantage of the\nopportunity to ransack all the rooms, protected by the ring. She undid\none by one all the talismans and spells which she found, broke the\nseals, burned the images, and untied the hagknots. Thence, hurrying\nthrough the fields, she disenchanted the victims changed into trees,\nfountains, stones, or brutes; all of whom recovered their liberty, and\nvowed eternal gratitude to their deliverer. They made their escape,\nwith all possible despatch, to the realms of the good Logestilla,\nwhence they departed to their several homes.\n\nAstolpho was the first whom Melissa liberated, for Rogero had\nparticularly recommended him to her care. She aided him to recover his\narms, and particularly that precious golden-headed lance which once was\nArgalia's. The enchantress mounted with him upon the winged horse, and\nin a short time arrived through the air at the castle of Logestilla,\nwhere Rogero joined them soon after.\n\nIn this abode the friends passed a short period of delightful and\nimproving intercourse with the sage Logestilla and her virtuous court;\nand then each departed, Rogero with the Hippogriff, ring, and buckler;\nAstolpho with his golden lance, and mounted on Rabican, the fleetest of\nsteeds. To Rogero Logestilla gave a bit and bridle suited to govern the\nHippogriff; and to Astolpho a horn of marvellous powers, to be sounded\nonly when all other weapons were unavailing.\n\n\n\nTHE ORC\n\nWe left the charming Angelica at the moment when, in her flight from\nher contending lovers, Sacripant and Rinaldo, she met an aged hermit.\nWe have seen that her request to the hermit was to furnish her the\nmeans of gaining the sea-coast, eager to avoid Rinaldo, whom she hated,\nby leaving France and Europe itself. The pretended hermit, who was no\nother than a vile magician, knowing well that it would not be agreeable\nto his false gods to aid Angelica in this undertaking, feigned to\ncomply with her desire. He supplied her a horse, into which he had by\nhis arts caused a subtle devil to enter, and, having mounted Angelica\non the animal, directed her what course to take to reach the sea.\n\nAngelica rode on her way without suspicion, but when arrived at the\nshore, the demon urged the animal headlong into the water. Angelica in\nvain attempted to turn him back to the land; he continued his course\ntill, as night approached, he landed with his burden on a sandy\nheadland.\n\nAngelica, finding herself alone, abandoned in this frightful solitude,\nremained without movement, as if stupefied, with hands joined and eyes\nturned towards heaven, till at last, pouring forth a torrent of tears,\nshe exclaimed: \"Cruel fortune, have you not yet exhausted your rage\nagainst me? To what new miseries do you doom me? Alas! then finish your\nwork! Deliver me a prey to some ferocious beast, or by whatever fate\nyou choose bring me to an end. I will be thankful to you for\nterminating my life and my misery.\" At last, exhausted by her sorrows,\nshe fell asleep, and sunk prostrate on the sand.\n\nBefore recounting what next befell, we must declare what place it was\nupon which the unhappy lady was now thrown. In the sea that washes the\ncoast of Ireland there is an island called Ebuda, whose inhabitants,\nonce numerous, had been wasted by the anger of Proteus till there were\nnow but few left. This deity was incensed by some neglect of the usual\nhonors which he had in old times received from the inhabitants of the\nland, and, to execute his vengeance, had sent a horrid sea-monster,\ncalled an Orc, to devour them. Such were the terrors of his ravages\nthat the whole people of the isle had shut themselves up in the\nprincipal town, and relied on their walls alone to protect them. In\nthis distress they applied to the Oracle for advice, and were directed\nto appease the wrath of the sea-monster by offering to him the fairest\nvirgin that the country could produce.\n\nNow it so happened that the very day when this dreadful oracle was\nannounced, and when the fatal mandate had gone forth to seek among the\nfairest maidens of the land one to be offered to the monster, some\nsailors, landing on the beach where Angelica was, beheld that beauty as\nshe lay asleep.\n\nO blind Chance! whose power in human affairs is but too great, canst\nthou then abandon to the teeth of a horrible monster those charms which\ndifferent sovereigns took arms against one another to possess? Alas!\nthe lovely Angelica is destined to be the victim of those cruel\nislanders.\n\nStill asleep, she was bound by the Ebudians, and it was not until she\nwas carried on board the vessel that she came to a knowledge of her\nsituation. The wind filled the sails and wafted the ship swiftly to the\nport, where all that beheld her agreed that she was unquestionably the\nvictim selected by Proteus himself to be his prey. Who can tell the\nscreams, the mortal anguish of this unhappy maiden, the reproaches she\naddressed even to the heavens themselves, when the dreadful information\nof her cruel fate was made known to her? I cannot; let me rather turn\nto a happier part of my story.\n\nRogero left the palace of Logestilla, careering on his flying courser\nfar above the tops of the mountains, and borne westward by the\nHippogriff, which he guided with ease, by means of the bridle that\nMelissa had given him. Anxious as he was to recover Bradamante, he\ncould not fail to be delighted at the view his rapid flight presented\nof so many vast regions and populous countries as he passed over in his\ncareer. At last he approached the shores of England, and perceived an\nimmense army in all the splendor of military pomp, as if about to go\nforth flushed with hopes of victory. He caused the Hippogriff to alight\nnot far from the scene, and found himself immediately surrounded by\nadmiring spectators, knights and soldiers, who could not enough indulge\ntheir curiosity and wonder. Rogero learned, in reply to his questions,\nthat the fine array of troops before him was the army destined to go to\nthe aid of the French Emperor, in compliance with the request presented\nby the illustrious Rinaldo, as ambassador of King Charles, his uncle.\n\nBy this time the curiosity of the English chevaliers was partly\ngratified in beholding the Hippogriff at rest, and Rogero, to renew\ntheir surprise and delight, remounted the animal, and, slapping spurs\nto his sides, made him launch into the air with the rapidity of a\nmeteor, and directed his flight still westwardly, till he came within\nsight of the coasts of Ireland. Here he descried what seemed to be a\nfair damsel, alone, fast chained to a rock which projected into the\nsea. What was his astonishment when, drawing nigh, he beheld the\nbeautiful princess Angelica! That day she had been led forth and bound\nto the rock, there to wait till the sea-monster should come to devour\nher. Rogero exclaimed as he came near, \"What cruel hands, what\nbarbarous soul, what fatal chance can have loaded thee with those\nchains?\" Angelica replied by a torrent of tears, at first her only\nresponse; then, in a trembling voice, she disclosed to him the horrible\ndestiny for which she was there exposed. While she spoke, a terrible\nroaring was heard far off on the sea. The huge monster soon came in\nsight, part of his body appearing above the waves and part concealed.\nAngelica, half dead with fear, abandoned herself to despair.\n\nRogero, lance in rest, spurred his Hippogriff toward the Orc, and gave\nhim a thrust. The horrible monster was like nothing that nature\nproduces. It was but one mass of tossing and twisting body, with\nnothing of the animal but head, eyes, and mouth, the last furnished\nwith tusks like those of the wild boar. Rogero's lance had struck him\nbetween the eyes; but rock and iron are not more impenetrable than were\nhis scales. The knight, seeing the fruitlessness of the first blow,\nprepared to give a second. The animal, beholding upon the water the\nshadow of the great wings of the Hippogriff, abandoned his prey, and\nturned to seize what seemed nearer. Rogero took the opportunity, and\ndealt him furious blows on various parts of his body, taking care to\nkeep clear of his murderous teeth; but the scales resisted every\nattack. The Orc beat the water with his tail till he raised a foam\nwhich enveloped Rogero and his steed, so that the knight hardly knew\nwhether he was in the water or the air. He began to fear that the wings\nof the Hippogriff would be so drenched with water that they would cease\nto sustain him. At that moment Rogero bethought him of the magic shield\nwhich hung at his saddle-bow; but the fear that Angelica would also be\nblinded by its glare discouraged him from employing it. Then he\nremembered the ring which Melissa had given him, the power of which he\nhad so lately proved. He hastened to Angelica and placed it on her\nfinger. Then, uncovering the buckler, he turned its bright disk full in\nthe face of the detestable Orc. The effect was instantaneous. The\nmonster, deprived of sense and motion, rolled over on the sea, and lay\nfloating on his back. Rogero would fain have tried the effect of his\nlance on the now exposed parts, but Angelica implored him to lose no\ntime in delivering her from her chains before the monster should\nrevive. Rogero, moved with her entreaties, hastened to do so, and,\nhaving unbound her, made her mount behind him on the Hippogriff. The\nanimal, spurning the earth, shot up into the air, and rapidly sped his\nway through it. Rogero, to give time to the princess to rest after her\ncruel agitations, soon sought the earth again, alighting on the shore\nof Brittany. Near the shore a thick wood presented itself, which\nresounded with the songs of birds. In the midst, a fountain of\ntransparent water bathed the turf of a little meadow. A gentle hill\nrose near by. Rogero, making the Hippogriff alight in the meadow,\ndismounted, and took Angelica from the horse.\n\nWhen the first tumults of emotion had subsided Angelica, casting her\neyes downward, beheld the precious ring upon her finger, whose virtues\nshe was well acquainted with, for it was the very ring which the\nSaracen Brunello had robbed her of. She drew it from her finger and\nplaced it in her mouth, and, quicker than we can tell it, disappeared\nfrom the sight of the paladin.\n\nRogero looked around him on all sides, like one frantic, but soon\nremembered the ring which he had so lately placed on her finger. Struck\nwith the ingratitude which could thus recompense his services, he\nexclaimed: \"Thankless beauty, is this then the reward you make me? Do\nyou prefer to rob me of my ring rather than receive it as a gift?\nWillingly would I have given it to you, had you but asked it.\" Thus he\nsaid, searching on all sides with arms extended like a blind man,\nhoping to recover by the touch what was lost to sight; but he sought in\nvain. The cruel beauty was already far away.\n\nThough sensible of her obligations to her deliverer, her first\nnecessity was for clothing, food, and repose. She soon reached a\nshepherd's hut, where, entering unseen, she found what sufficed for her\npresent relief. An old herdsman inhabited the hut, whose charges\nconsisted of a drove of mares. When recruited by repose Angelica\nselected one of the mares from the flock, and, mounting the animal,\nfelt the desire revive in her mind of returning to her home in the\nEast, and for that purpose would gladly have accepted the protection of\nOrlando or of Sacripant across those wide regions which divided her\nfrom her own country. In hopes of meeting with one or the other of them\nshe pursued her way.\n\nMeanwhile Rogero, despairing of seeing Angelica again, returned to the\ntree where he had left his winged horse, but had the mortification to\nfind that the animal had broken his bridle and escaped. This loss,\nadded to his previous disappointment, overwhelmed him with vexation.\nSadly he gathered up his arms, threw his buckler over his shoulders,\nand, taking the first path that offered, soon found himself within the\nverge of a dense and widespread forest.\n\nHe had proceeded for some distance when he heard a noise on his right,\nand, listening attentively, distinguished the clash of arms. He made\nhis way toward the place whence the sound proceeded, and found two\nwarriors engaged in mortal combat. One of them was a knight of a noble\nand manly bearing, the other a fierce giant. The knight appeared to\nexert consummate address in defending herself against the massive club\nof the giant, evading his strokes, or parrying them with sword or\nshield. Rogero stood spectator of the combat, for he did not allow\nhimself to interfere in it, though a secret sentiment inclined him\nstrongly to take part with the knight. At length he saw with grief the\nmassive club fall directly on the head of the knight, who yielded to\nthe blow, and fell prostrate. The giant sprang forward to despatch him,\nand for that purpose unlaced his helmet, when Rogero, with dismay,\nrecognized the face of Bradamante. He cried aloud, \"Hold, miscreant!\"\nand sprang forward with drawn sword. Whereupon the giant, as if he\ncared not to enter upon another combat, lifted Bradamante on his\nshoulders, and ran with her into the forest.\n\nRogero plunged after him, but the long legs of the giant carried him\nforward so fast that the paladin could hardly keep him in sight. At\nlength they issued from the wood, and Rogero perceived before him a\nrich palace, built of marble, and adorned with sculptures executed by a\nmaster hand. Into this edifice, through a golden door, the giant\npassed, and Rogero followed; but, on looking round, saw nowhere either\nthe giant or Bradamante. He ran from room to room, calling aloud on his\ncowardly foe to turn and meet him; but got no response, nor caught\nanother glimpse of the giant or his prey. In his vain pursuit he met,\nwithout knowing them, Ferrau, Florismart, King Gradasso, Orlando, and\nmany others, all of whom had been entrapped like himself into this\nenchanted castle. It was a new stratagem of the magician Atlantes to\ndraw Rogero into his power, and to secure also those who might by any\nchance endanger his safety. What Rogero had taken for Bradamante was a\nmere phantom. That charming lady was far away, full of anxiety for her\nRogero, whose coming she had long expected.\n\nThe Emperor had committed to her charge the city and garrison of\nMarseilles, and she held the post against the infidels with valor and\ndiscretion. One day Melissa suddenly presented herself before her.\nAnticipating her questions, she said, \"Fear not for Rogero; he lives,\nand is as ever true to you; but he has lost his liberty. The fell\nenchanter has again succeeded in making him a prisoner. If you would\ndeliver him, mount your horse and follow me.\" She told her in what\nmanner Atlantes had deceived Rogero, in deluding his eyes with the\nphantom of herself in peril. \"Such,\" she continued, \"will be his arts\nin your own case, if you penetrate the forest and approach that castle.\nYou will think you behold Rogero, when, in fact, you see only the\nenchanter himself. Be not deceived, plunge your sword into his body,\nand trust me when I tell you that, in slaying him, you will restore not\nonly Rogero, but with him many of the bravest knights of France, whom\nthe wizard's arts have withdrawn from the camp of their sovereign.\"\n\nBradamante promptly armed herself, and mounted her horse. Melissa led\nher by forced journeys, by field and forest, beguiling the way with\nconversation on the theme which interested her hearer most. When at\nlast they reached the forest, she repeated once more her instructions,\nand then took her leave, for fear the enchanter might espy her, and be\nput on his guard.\n\nBradamante rode on about two miles when suddenly she beheld Rogero, as\nit appeared to her, hard pressed by two fierce giants. While she\nhesitated she heard his voice calling on her for help. At once the\ncautions of Melissa lost their weight. A sudden doubt of the faith and\ntruth of her kind monitress flashed across her mind. \"Shall I not\nbelieve my own eyes and ears?\" she said, and rushed forward to his\ndefence. Rogero fled, pursued by the giants, and Bradamante followed,\npassing with them through the castle gate. When there, Bradamante was\nundeceived, for neither giant nor knight was to be seen. She found\nherself a prisoner, but had not the consolation of knowing that she\nshared the imprisonment of her beloved. She saw various forms of men\nand women, but could recognize none of them; and their lot was the same\nwith respect to her. Each viewed the others under some illusion of the\nfancy, wearing the semblance of giants, dwarfs, or even four-footed\nanimals, so that there was no companionship or communication between\nthem.\n\n\n\nASTOLPHO'S ADVENTURES CONTINUED, AND ISABELLA'S BEGUN\n\nWhen Astolpho escaped from the cruel Alcina, after a short abode in the\nrealm of the virtuous Logestilla, he desired to return to his native\ncountry. Logestilla lent him the best vessel of her fleet to convey him\nto the mainland. She gave him at parting a wonderful book, which taught\nthe secret of overcoming all manners of enchantments, and begged him to\ncarry it always with him, out of regard for her. She also gave him\nanother gift, which surpassed everything of the kind that mortal\nworkmanship can frame; yet it was nothing in appearance but a simple\nhorn.\n\nAstolpho, protected by these gifts, thanked the good fairy, took leave\nof her, and set out on his return to France. His voyage was prosperous,\nand on reaching the desired port he took leave of the faithful\nmariners, and continued his journey by land. As he proceeded over\nmountains and through valleys he often met with bands of robbers, wild\nbeasts, and venomous serpents, but he had only to sound his horn to put\nthem all to flight.\n\nHaving landed in France, and traversed many provinces on his way to the\narmy, he one day, in crossing a forest, arrived beside a fountain, and\nalighted to drink. While he stooped at the fountain a young rustic\nsprang from the copse, mounted Rabican, and rode away. It was a new\ntrick of the enchanter Atlantes. Astolpho, hearing the noise, turned\nhis head just in time to see his loss; and, starting up, pursued the\nthief, who, on his part, did not press the horse to his full speed, but\njust kept in sight of his pursuer till they both issued from the\nforest; and then Rabican and his rider took shelter in a castle which\nstood near. Astolpho followed, and penetrated without difficulty within\nthe court-yard of the castle, where he looked around for the rider and\nhis horse, but could see no trace of either, nor any person of whom he\ncould make inquiry. Suspecting that enchantment was employed to\nembarrass him, he bethought him of his book, and on consulting it\ndiscovered that his suspicions were well founded. He also learned what\ncourse to pursue. He was directed to raise the stone which served as a\nthreshold, under which a spirit lay pent, who would willingly escape,\nand leave the castle free of access. Astolpho applied his strength to\nlift aside the stone. Thereupon the magician put his arts in force. The\ncastle was full of prisoners, and the magician caused that to all of\nthem Astolpho should appear in some false guise--to some a wild beast,\nto others a giant, to others a bird of prey. Thus all assailed him, and\nwould quickly have made an end of him, if he had not bethought him of\nhis horn. No sooner had he blown a blast than, at the horrid larum,\nfled the cavaliers and the necromancer with them, like a flock of\npigeons at the sound of the fowler's gun. Astolpho then renewed his\nefforts on the stone, and turned it over. The under face was all\ninscribed with magical characters, which the knight defaced, as\ndirected by his book; and no sooner had he done so, than the castle,\nwith its walls and turrets, vanished into smoke.\n\nThe knights and ladies set at liberty were, besides Rogero and\nBradamante, Orlando, Gradasso, Florismart, and many more. At the sound\nof the horn they fled, one and all, men and steeds, except Rabican,\nwhich Astolpho secured, in spite of his terror. As soon as the sound\nhad ceased Rogero recognized Bradamante, whom he had daily met during\ntheir imprisonment, but had been prevented from knowing by the\nenchanter's arts. No words can tell the delight with which they\nrecognized each other, and recounted mutually all that had happened to\neach since they were parted. Rogero took advantage of the opportunity\nto press his suit, and found Bradamante as propitious as he could wish,\nwere it not for a single obstacle, the difference of their faiths. \"If\nhe would obtain her in marriage,\" she said, \"he must in due form demand\nher of her father, Duke Aymon, and must abandon his false prophet, and\nbecome a Christian.\" The latter step was one which Rogero had for some\ntime intended taking, for reasons of his own. He therefore gladly\naccepted the terms, and proposed that they should at once repair to the\nabbey of Vallombrosa, whose towers were visible at no great distance.\nThither they turned their horses' heads, and we will leave them to find\ntheir way without our company.\n\nI know not if my readers recollect that at the moment when Rogero had\njust delivered Angelica from the voracious Orc that scornful beauty\nplaced her ring in her mouth, and vanished out of sight. At the same\ntime the Hippogriff shook off his bridle, soared away, and flew to\nrejoin his former master, very naturally returning to his accustomed\nstable. Here Astolpho found him, to his very great delight. He knew the\nanimal's powers, having seen Rogero ride him, and he longed to fly\nabroad over all the earth, and see various nations and peoples from his\nairy course. He had heard Logestilla's directions how to guide the\nanimal, and saw her fit a bridle to his head. He therefore was able,\nout of all the bridles he found in the stable, to select one suitable,\nand, placing Rabican's saddle on the Hippogriff's back, nothing seemed\nto prevent his immediate departure. Yet before he went he bethought him\nof placing Rabican in hands where he would be safe, and whence he might\nrecover him in time of need. While he stood deliberating where he\nshould find a messenger, he saw Bradamante approach. That fair warrior\nhad been parted from Rogero on their way to the abbey of Vallombrosa,\nby an inopportune adventure which had called the knight away. She was\nnow returning to Montalban, having arranged with Rogero to join her\nthere. To Bradamante, therefore, his fair cousin, Astolpho committed\nRabican, and also the lance of gold, which would only be an incumbrance\nin his aerial excursion. Bradamante took charge of both; and Astolpho,\nbidding her farewell, soared in air.\n\nAmong those delivered by Astolpho from the magician's castle was\nOrlando. Following the guide of chance, the paladin found himself at\nthe close of day in a forest, and stopped at the foot of a mountain.\nSurprised to discern a light which came from a cleft in the rock, he\napproached, guided by the ray, and discovered a narrow passage in the\nmountain-side, which led into a deep grotto.\n\nOrlando fastened his horse, and then, putting aside the bushes that\nresisted his passage, stepped down from rock to rock till he reached a\nsort of cavern. Entering it, he perceived a lady, young and handsome,\nas well as he could discover through the signs of distress which\nagitated her countenance. Her only companion was an old woman, who\nseemed to be regarded by her young partner with terror and indignation.\nThe courteous paladin saluted the women respectfully, and begged to\nknow by whose barbarity they had been subjected to such imprisonment.\n\nThe younger lady replied, in a voice often broken with sobs:\n\n\"Though I know well that my recital will subject me to worse treatment\nby the barbarous man who keeps me here, to whom this woman will not\nfail to report it, yet I will not hide from you the facts. Ah! why\nshould I fear his rage? If he should take my life, I know not what\nbetter boon than death I can ask.\n\n\"My name is Isabella. I am the daughter of the king of Galicia, or\nrather I should say misfortune and grief are my parents. Young, rich,\nmodest, and of tranquil temper, all things appeared to combine to\nrender my lot happy. Alas! I see myself to-day poor, humbled,\nmiserable, and destined perhaps to yet further afflictions. It is a\nyear since, my father having given notice that he would open the lists\nfor a tournament at Bayonne, a great number of chevaliers from all\nquarters came together at our court. Among these Zerbino, son of the\nking of Scotland, victorious in all combats, eclipsed by his beauty and\nhis valor all the rest. Before departing from the court of Galicia he\ntestified the wish to espouse me, and I consented that he should demand\nmy hand of the king, my father. But I was a Mahometan, and Zerbino a\nChristian, and my father refused his consent. The prince, called home\nby his father to take command of the forces destined to the assistance\nof the French Emperor, prevailed on me to be married to him secretly,\nand to follow him to Scotland. He caused a galley to be prepared to\nreceive me, and placed in command of it the chevalier Oderic, a\nBiscayan, famous for his exploits both by land and sea. On the day\nappointed, Oderic brought his vessel to a seaside resort of my\nfather's, where I embarked. Some of my domestics accompanied me, and\nthus I departed from my native land.\n\n\"Sailing with a fair wind, after some hours we were assailed by a\nviolent tempest. It was to no purpose that we took in all sail; we were\ndriven before the wind directly upon the rocky shore. Seeing no other\nhopes of safety, Oderic placed me in a boat, followed himself with a\nfew of his men, and made for land. We reached it through infinite\nperil, and I no sooner felt the firm land beneath my feet, than I knelt\ndown and poured out heartfelt thanks to the Providence that had\npreserved me.\n\n\"The shore where we landed appeared to be uninhabited. We saw no\ndwelling to shelter us, no road to lead us to a more hospitable spot. A\nhigh mountain rose before us, whose base stretched into the sea. It was\nhere the infamous Oderic, in spite of my tears and entreaties, sold me\nto a band of pirates, who fancied I might be an acceptable present to\ntheir prince, the Sultan of Morocco. This cavern is their den, and here\nthey keep me under the guard of this woman, until it shall suit their\nconvenience to carry me away.\"\n\nIsabella had hardly finished her recital when a troop of armed men\nbegan to enter the cavern. Seeing the prince Orlando, one said to the\nrest, \"What bird is this we have caught, without even setting a snare\nfor him?\" Then addressing Orlando, \"It was truly civil in you, friend,\nto come hither with that handsome coat of armor and vest, the very\nthings I want.\" \"You shall pay for them, then,\" said Orlando; and\nseizing a half-burnt brand from the fire, he hurled it at him, striking\nhis head, and stretching him lifeless on the floor.\n\nThere was a massy table in the middle of the cavern, used for the\npirates' repasts. Orlando lifted it and hurled it at the robbers as\nthey stood clustered in a group toward the entrance. Half the gang were\nlaid prostrate, with broken heads and limbs; the rest got away as\nnimbly as they could.\n\nLeaving the den and its inmates to their fate, Orlando, taking Isabella\nunder his protection, pursued his way for some days, without meeting\nwith any adventure.\n\nOne day they saw a band of men advancing, who seemed to be guarding a\nprisoner, bound hand and foot, as if being carried to execution. The\nprisoner was a youthful cavalier, of a noble and ingenuous appearance.\nThe band bore the ensigns of Count Anselm, head of the treacherous\nhouse of Maganza. Orlando desired Isabella to wait, while he rode\nforward to inquire the meaning of this array. Approaching, he demanded\nof the leader who his prisoner was, and of what crime he had been\nguilty. The man replied that the prisoner was a murderer, by whose hand\nPinabel, the son of Count Anselm, had been treacherously slain. At\nthese words the prisoner exclaimed, \"I am no murderer, nor have I been\nin any way the cause of the young man's death.\" Orlando, knowing the\ncruel and ferocious character of the chiefs of the house of Maganza,\nneeded no more to satisfy him that the youth was the victim of\ninjustice. He commanded the leader of the troop to release his victim,\nand, receiving an insolent reply, dashed him to the earth with a stroke\nof his lance; then by a few vigorous blows dispersed the band, leaving\ndeadly marks on those who were slowest to quit the field.\n\nOrlando then hastened to unbind the prisoner, and to assist him to\nreclothe himself in his armor, which the false Magencian had dared to\nassume. He then led him to Isabella, who now approached the scene of\naction. How can we picture the joy, the astonishment, with which\nIsabella recognized in him Zerbino, her husband, and the prince\ndiscovered her whom he had believed overwhelmed in the waves! They\nembraced one another, and wept for joy. Orlando, sharing in their\nhappiness, congratulated himself in having been the instrument of it.\nThe princess recounted to Zerbino what the illustrious paladin had done\nfor her, and the prince threw himself at Orlando's feet, and thanked\nhim as having twice preserved his life.\n\nWhile these exchanges of congratulation and thankfulness were going on,\na sound in the underwood attracted their attention, and caused the two\nknights to brace their helmets and stand on their guard. What the cause\nof the interruption was we shall record in another chapter.\n\n\n\nMEDORO\n\nFrance was at this time the theatre of dreadful events. The Saracens\nand the Christians, in numerous encounters, slew one another. On one\noccasion Rinaldo led an attack on the infidel columns, broke and\nscattered them, till he found himself opposite to a knight whose armor\n(whether by accident or by choice, it matters not) bore the blazon of\nOrlando. It was Dardinel, the young and brave prince of Zumara, and\nRinaldo remarked him by the slaughter he spread all around. \"Ah,\" said\nhe to himself, \"let us pluck up this dangerous plant before it has\ngrown to its full height.\"\n\nAs Rinaldo advanced, the crowd opened before him, the Christians to let\nhis sword have free course, the Pagans to escape its sweep. Dardinel\nand he stood face to face. Rinaldo exclaimed, fiercely, \"Young man,\nwhoever gave you that noble buckler to bear made you a dangerous gift;\nI should like to see how you are able to defend those quarterings, red\nand white. If you cannot defend them against me, how pray will you do\nso when Orlando challenges them?\" Dardinel replied: \"Thou shalt learn\nthat I can defend the arms I bear, and shed new glory upon them. No one\nshall rend them from me but with life.\" Saying these words, Dardinel\nrushed upon Rinaldo with sword uplifted. The chill of mortal terror\nfilled the souls of the Saracens when they beheld Rinaldo advance to\nattack the prince, like a lion against a young bull. The first blow\ncame from the hand of Dardinel, and the weapon rebounded from\nMambrino's helmet without effect. Rinaldo smiled, and said, \"I will now\nshow you if my strokes are more effectual.\" At these words he thrust\nthe unfortunate Dardinel in the middle of his breast. The blow was so\nviolent that the cruel weapon pierced the body, and came out a\npalm-breadth behind his back. Through this wound the life of Dardinel\nissued with his blood, and his body fell helpless to the ground.\n\nAs a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and\ndroops its head, so Dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness of\ndeath, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish with him.\n\nLike waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken, spread\nabroad through all the country, so the Moors, no longer kept in column\nby the example of Dardinel, fled in all directions. Rinaldo despised\ntoo much such easy victories to pursue them; he wished for no combats\nbut with brave men. At the same time, the other paladins made terrible\nslaughter of the Moors. Charles himself, Oliver, Guido, and Ogier the\nDane, carried death into their ranks on all sides.\n\nThe infidels seemed doomed to perish to a man on that dreadful day; but\nthe wise king, Marsilius, at last put some slight degree of method into\nthe general rout. He collected the remnant of the troops, formed them\ninto a battalion, and retreated in tolerable order to his camp. That\ncamp was well fortified by intrenchments and a broad ditch. Thither the\nfugitives hastened, and by degrees all that remained of the Moorish\narmy was brought together there.\n\nThe Emperor might perhaps that night have crushed his enemy entirely;\nbut not thinking it prudent to expose his troops, fatigued as they\nwere, to an attack upon a camp so well fortified, he contented himself\nwith encompassing the enemy with his troops, prepared to make a regular\nsiege. During the night the Moors had time to see the extent of their\nloss. Their tents resounded with lamentations. This warrior had to\nmourn a brother, that a friend; many suffered with grievous wounds, all\ntrembled at the fate in store for them.\n\nThere were two young Moors, both of humble rank, who gave proof at that\ntime of attachment and fidelity rare in the history of man. Cloridan\nand Medoro had followed their prince, Dardinel, to the wars of France.\nCloridan, a bold huntsman, combined strength with activity. Medoro was\na mere youth, his cheeks yet fair and blooming. Of all the Saracens, no\none united so much grace and beauty. His light hair was set off by his\nblack and sparkling eyes. The two friends were together on guard at the\nrampart. About midnight they gazed on the scene in deep dejection.\nMedoro, with tears in his eyes, spoke of the good prince Dardinel, and\ncould not endure the thought that his body should be cast out on the\nplain, deprived of funeral honors. \"O my friend,\" said he, \"must then\nthe body of our prince be the prey of wolves and ravens? Alas! when I\nremember how he loved me, I feel that if I should sacrifice my life to\ndo him honor, I should not do more than my duty. I wish, dear friend,\nto seek out his body on the battlefield, and give it burial, and I hope\nto be able to pass through King Charles's camp without discovery, as\nthey are probably all asleep. You, Cloridan, will be able to say for\nme, if I should die in the adventure, that gratitude and fidelity to my\nprince were my inducements.\"\n\nCloridan was both surprised and touched with this proof of the young\nman's devotion. He loved him tenderly, and tried for a long time every\neffort to dissuade him from his design; but he found Medoro determined\nto accomplish his object or die in the endeavor.\n\nCloridan, unable to change his purpose, said, \"I will go with you,\nMedoro, and help you in this generous enterprise. I value not life\ncompared with honor, and if I did, do you suppose, dear friend, that I\ncould live without you? I would rather fall by the arms of our enemies\nthan die of grief for the loss of you.\"\n\nWhen the two friends were relieved from their guard duty they went\nwithout any followers into the camp of the Christians. All there was\nstill; the fires were dying out; there was no fear of any attempt on\nthe part of the Saracens, and the soldiers, overcome by fatigue or\nwine, slept secure, lying upon the ground in the midst of their arms\nand equipage. Cloridan stopped, and said, \"Medoro, I am not going to\nquit this camp without taking vengeance for the death of our prince.\nKeep watch, be on your guard that no one shall surprise us; I mean to\nmark a road with my sword through the ranks of our enemies.\" So saying,\nhe entered the tent where Alpheus slept, who a year before had joined\nthe camp of Charles, and pretended to be a great physician and\nastrologer. But his science had deceived him, if it gave him hope of\ndying peacefully in his bed at a good old age; his lot was to die with\nlittle warning. Cloridan ran his sword through his heart. A Greek and a\nGerman followed, who had been playing late at dice: fortunate if they\nhad continued their game a little longer; but they never reckoned a\nthrow like this among their chances. Cloridan next came to the unlucky\nGrillon, whose head lay softly on his pillow. He dreamed probably of\nthe feast from which he had but just retired; for when Cloridan cut off\nhis head wine flowed forth with the blood.\n\nThe two young Moors might have penetrated even to the tent of\nCharlemagne; but knowing that the paladins encamped around him kept\nwatch by turns, and judging that it was impossible they should all be\nasleep, they were afraid to go too near. They might also have obtained\nrich booty; but, intent only on their object, they crossed the camp,\nand arrived at length at the bloody field, where bucklers, lances, and\nswords lay scattered in the midst of corpses of poor and rich, common\nsoldier and prince, horses and pools of blood. This terrible scene of\ncarnage would have destroyed all hope of finding what they were in\nsearch of until dawn of day, were it not that the moon lent the aid of\nher uncertain rays.\n\nMedoro raised his eyes to the planet, and exclaimed, \"O holy goddess,\nwhom our fathers have adored under three different forms,--thou who\ndisplayest thy power in heaven, on earth, and in the underworld,--thou\nwho art seen foremost among the nymphs chasing the beasts of the\nforest,--cause me to see, I implore thee, the spot where my dear master\nlies, and make me all my life long follow the example which thou dost\nexhibit of works of charity and love.\"\n\nEither by accident, or that the moon was sensible of the prayer of\nMedoro, the cloud broke away, and the moonlight burst forth as bright\nas day. The rays seemed especially to gild the spot where lay the body\nof Prince Dardinel; and Medoro, bathed in tears and with bleeding\nheart, recognized him by the quarterings of red and white on his shield.\n\nWith groans stifled by his tears, and lamentations in accents\nsuppressed, not from any fear for himself, for he cared not for life,\nbut lest any one should be roused to interrupt their pious duty while\nyet incomplete, he proposed to his companion that they should together\nbear Dardinel on their shoulders, sharing the burden of the beloved\nremains.\n\nMarching with rapid strides under their precious load, they perceived\nthat the stars began to grow pale, and that the shades of night would\nsoon be dispersed by the dawn. Just then Zerbino, whose extreme valor\nhad urged him far from the camp in pursuit of the fugitives, returning,\nentered the wood in which they were. Some knights in his train\nperceived at a distance the two brothers-in-arms. Cloridan saw the\ntroop, and, observing that they dispersed themselves over the plain as\nif in search of booty, told Medoro to lay down the body, and let each\nsave himself by flight. He dropped his part, thinking that Medoro would\ndo the same; but the good youth loved his prince too well to abandon\nhim, and continued to carry his load singly as well as he might, while\nCloridan made his escape. Near by there was a part of the wood tufted\nas if nothing but wild animals had ever penetrated it. The unfortunate\nyouth, loaded with the weight of his dead master, plunged into its\nrecesses.\n\nCloridan, when he perceived that he had evaded his foes, discovered\nthat Medoro was not with him. \"Ah!\" exclaimed he, \"how could I, dear\nMedoro, so forget myself as to consult my own safety without heeding\nyours?\" So saying, he retraced the tangled passes of the wood toward\nthe place from whence he had fled. As he approached he heard the noise\nof horses, and the menacing voices of armed men. Soon he perceived\nMedoro, on foot, with the cavaliers surrounding him. Zerbino, their\ncommander, bade them seize him. The unhappy Medoro turned now this way,\nnow that, trying to conceal himself behind an oak or a rock, still\nbearing the body, which he would by no means leave. Cloridan not\nknowing how to help him, but resolved to perish with him, if he must\nperish, takes an arrow, fits it to his bow, discharges it, and pierces\nthe breast of a Christian knight, who falls helpless from his horse.\nThe others look this way and that, to discover whence the fatal bolt\nwas sped. One, while demanding of his comrades in what direction the\narrow came, received a second in his throat, which stopped his words,\nand soon closed his eyes to the scene.\n\nZerbino, furious at the death of his two comrades, ran upon Medoro,\nseized his golden hair, and dragged him forward to slay him. But the\nsight of so much youth and beauty commanded pity. He stayed his arm.\nThe young man spoke in suppliant tones. \"Ah! signor,\" said he, \"I\nconjure you by the God whom you serve, deprive me not of life until I\nshall have buried the body of the prince, my master. Fear not that I\nwill ask you any other favor; life is not dear to me; I desire death as\nsoon as I shall have performed this sacred duty. Do with me then as you\nplease. Give my limbs a prey to the birds and beasts; only let me first\nbury my prince.\" Medoro pronounced these words with an air so sweet and\ntender that a heart of stone would have been moved by them. Zerbino was\nso to the bottom of his soul. He was on the point of uttering words of\nmercy, when a cruel subaltern, forgetting all respect to his commander,\nplunged his lance into the breast of the young Moor. Zerbino, enraged\nat his brutality, turned upon the wretch to take vengeance, but he\nsaved himself by a precipitate flight.\n\nCloridan, who saw Medoro fall, could contain himself no longer. He\nrushed from his concealment, threw down his bow, and, sword in hand,\nseemed only desirous of vengeance for Medoro, and to die with him. In a\nmoment, pierced through and through with many wounds, he exerts the\nlast remnant of his strength in dragging himself to Medoro, to die\nembracing him. The cavaliers left them thus to rejoin Zerbino, whose\nrage against the murderer of Medoro had drawn him away from the spot.\n\nCloridan died; and Medoro, bleeding copiously, was drawing near his end\nwhen help arrived.\n\nA young maiden approached the fallen knights at this critical moment.\nHer dress was that of a peasant-girl, but her air was noble, and her\nbeauty celestial; sweetness and goodness reigned in her lovely\ncountenance. It was no other than Angelica, the Princess of Cathay.\n\nWhen she had recovered that precious ring, as we have before related,\nAngelica, knowing its value, felt proud in the power it conferred,\ntravelled alone without fear, not without a secret shame that she had\never been obliged to seek protection in her wanderings of the Count\nOrlando and of Sacripant. She reproached herself too as with a weakness\nthat she had ever thought of marrying Rinaldo; in fine, her pride grew\nso high as to persuade her that no man living was worthy to aspire to\nher hand.\n\nMoved with pity at the sight of the young man wounded, and melted to\ntears at hearing the cause, she quickly recalled to remembrance the\nknowledge she had acquired in India, where the virtues of plants and\nthe art of healing formed part of the education even of princesses. The\nbeautiful queen ran into the adjoining meadow to gather plants of\nvirtue to staunch the flow of blood. Meeting on her way a countryman on\nhorseback seeking a strayed heifer, she begged him to come to her\nassistance, and endeavor to remove the wounded man to a more secure\nasylum.\n\nAngelica, having prepared the plants by bruising them between two\nstones, laid them with her fair hand on Medoro's wound. The remedy soon\nrestored in some degree the strength of the wounded man, who, before he\nwould quit the spot, made them cover with earth and turf the bodies of\nhis friend and of the prince. Then surrendering himself to the pity of\nhis deliverers, he allowed them to place him on the horse of the\nshepherd, and conduct him to his cottage. It was a pleasant farmhouse\non the borders of the wood, bearing marks of comfort and competency.\nThere the shepherd lived with his wife and children. There Angelica\ntended Medoro, and there, by the devoted care of the beautiful queen,\nhis sad wound closed over, and he recovered his perfect health.\n\nO Count Rinaldo, O King Sacripant! what availed it you to possess so\nmany virtues and such fame? What advantage have you derived from all\nyour high deserts? O hapless king, great Agrican! if you could return\nto life, how would you endure to see yourself rejected by one who will\nbow to the yoke of Hymen in favor of a young soldier of humble birth?\nAnd thou, Ferrau, and ye numerous others who a hundred times have put\nyour lives at hazard for this cruel beauty, how bitter will it be to\nyou to see her sacrifice you all to the claims of the humble Medoro!\n\nThere, under the low roof of a shepherd, the flame of Hymen was lighted\nfor this haughty queen. She takes the shepherd's wife to serve in place\nof mother, the shepherd and his children for witnesses, and marries the\nhappy Medoro.\n\nAngelica, after her marriage, wishing to endow Medoro with the\nsovereignty of the countries which yet remained to her, took with him\nthe road to the East. She had preserved through all her adventures a\nbracelet of gold enriched with precious stones, the present of the\nCount Orlando. Having nothing else wherewith to reward the good\nshepherd and his wife, who had served her with so much care and\nfidelity, she took the bracelet from her arm and gave it to them, and\nthen the newly-married couple directed their steps toward those\nmountains which separate France and Spain, intending to wait at\nBarcelona a vessel which should take them on their way to the East.\n\n\n\nORLANDO MAD\n\nOrlando, on the loss of Angelica, laid aside his crest and arms, and\narrayed himself in a suit of black armor expressive of his despair. In\nthis guise he carried such slaughter among the ranks of the infidels\nthat both armies were astonished at the achievements of the stranger\nknight. Mandricardo, who had been absent from the battle, heard the\nreport of these achievements and determined to test for himself the\nvalor of the knight so extolled. He it was who broke in upon the\nconference of Zerbino and Isabella, and their benefactor Orlando, as\nthey stood occupied in mutual felicitations, after the happy reunion of\nthe lovers by the prowess of the paladin.\n\nMandricardo, after contemplating the group for a moment, addressed\nhimself to Orlando in these words: \"Thou must be the man I seek. For\nten days and more I have been on thy track. The fame of thy exploits\nhas brought me hither, that I may measure my strength with thine. Thy\ncrest and shield prove thee the same who spread such slaughter among\nour troops. But these marks are superfluous, and if I saw thee among a\nhundred I should know thee by thy martial bearing to be the man I seek.\"\n\n\"I respect thy courage,\" said Orlando; \"such a design could not have\nsprung up in any but a brave and generous soul. If the desire to see me\nhas brought thee hither, I would, if it were possible, show thee my\ninmost soul. I will remove my visor, that you may satisfy your\ncuriosity; but when you have done so I hope that you will also try and\nsee if my valor corresponds to my appearance.\" \"Come on,\" said the\nSaracen, \"my first wish was to see and know thee; I will not gratify my\nsecond.\"\n\nOrlando, observing Mandricardo was surprised to see no sword at his\nside, nor mace at his saddle-bow. \"And what weapon hast thou,\" said he,\n\"if thy lance fail thee?\"\n\n\"Do not concern yourself about that,\" said Mandricardo; \"I have made\nmany good knights give ground with no other weapon than you see. Know\nthat I have sworn an oath never to bear a sword until I win back that\nfamous Durindana that Orlando, the paladin, carries. That sword belongs\nto the suit of armor which I wear; that only is wanting. Without doubt\nit was stolen, but how it got into the hands of Orlando I know not. But\nI will make him pay dearly for it when I find him I seek him the more\nanxiously that I may avenge with his blood the death of King Agrican,\nmy father, whom he treacherously slew. I am sure he must have done it\nby treachery, for it was not in his power to subdue in fair fight such\na warrior as my father.\"\n\n\"Thou liest,\" cried Orlando; \"and all who say so lie. I am Orlando,\nwhom you seek; yes, I am he who slew your father honorably. Hold, here\nis the sword: you shall have it if your courage avails to merit it.\nThough it belongs to me by right, I will not use it in this dispute.\nSee, I hang it on this tree; you shall be master of it, if you bereave\nme of life; not else.\"\n\nAt these words Orlando drew Durindana, and hung it on one of the\nbranches of a tree near by.\n\nBoth knights, boiling with equal ardor, rode off in a semicircle; then\nrushed together with reins thrown loose, and struck one another with\ntheir lances. Both kept their seats, immovable. The splinters of their\nlances flew into the air, and no weapon remained for either but the\nfragment which he held in his hand. Then those two knights, covered\nwith iron mail, were reduced to the necessity of fighting with staves,\nin the manner of two rustics, who dispute the boundary of a meadow, or\nthe possession of a spring.\n\nThese clubs could not long keep whole in the hands of such sturdy\nsmiters, who were soon reduced to fight with naked fists. Such warfare\nwas more painful to him that gave than to him that received the blows.\nThey next clasped, and strained each his adversary, as Hercules did\nAntaeus. Mandricardo, more enraged than Orlando, made violent efforts\nto unseat the paladin, and dropped the rein of his horse. Orlando, more\ncalm, perceived it. With one hand he resisted Mandricardo, with the\nother he twitched the horse's bridle over the ears of the animal. The\nSaracen dragged Orlando with all his might, but Orlando's thighs held\nthe saddle like a vise. At last the efforts of the Saracen broke the\ngirths of Orlando's horse; the saddle slipped; the knight, firm in his\nstirrups, slipped with it, and came to the ground hardly conscious of\nhis fall. The noise of his armor in falling startled Mandricardo's\nhorse, now without a bridle. He started off in full career, heeding\nneither trees nor rocks nor broken ground. Urged by fright, he ran with\nfurious speed, carrying his master, who, almost distracted with rage,\nshouted and beat the animal with his fists, and thereby impelled his\nflight. After running thus three miles or more, a deep ditch opposed\ntheir progress. The horse and rider fell headlong into it, and did not\nfind the bottom covered with feather-beds or roses. They got sadly\nbruised; but were lucky enough to escape without any broken limbs.\n\nMandricardo, as soon as he gained his feet, seized the horse by his\nmane with fury; but, having no bridle, could not hold him. He looked\nround in hopes of finding something that would do for a rein. Just then\nfortune, who seemed willing to help him at last, brought that way a\npeasant with a bridle in his hand, who was in search of his farm horse\nthat had strayed away.\n\nOrlando, having speedily repaired his horse's girths, remounted, and\nwaited a good hour for the Saracen to return. Not seeing him, he\nconcluded to go in search of him. He took an affectionate leave of\nZerbino and Isabella, who would willingly have followed him; but this\nthe brave paladin would by no means permit. He held it unknightly to go\nin search of an enemy accompanied by a friend, who might act as a\ndefender. Therefore, desiring them to say to Mandricardo, if they\nshould meet him, that his purpose was to tarry in the neighborhood\nthree days, and then repair to the camp of Charlemagne, he took down\nDurindana from the tree, and proceeded in the direction which the\nSaracen's horse had taken. But the animal, having no guide but its\nterror, had so doubled and confused its traces that Orlando, after two\ndays spent in the search, gave up the attempt.\n\nIt was about the middle of the third day when the paladin arrived on\nthe pleasant bank of a stream which wound through a meadow enamelled\nwith flowers. High trees, whose tops met and formed an arbor,\nover-shadowed the fountain; and the breeze which blew through their\nfoliage tempered the heat. Hither the shepherds used to resort to\nquench their thirst, and to enjoy the shelter from the midday sun. The\nair, perfumed with the flowers, seemed to breathe fresh strength into\ntheir veins. Orlando felt the influence, though covered with his armor.\nHe stopped in this delicious arbor, where everything seemed to invite\nto repose. But he could not have chosen a more fatal asylum. He there\nspent the most miserable moments of his life.\n\nHe looked around, and noted with pleasure all the charms of the spot.\nHe saw that some of the trees were carved with inscriptions--he drew\nnear, and read them, and what was his surprise to find that they\ncomposed the name of Angelica! Farther on he found the name of Medoro\nmixed with hers. The paladin thought he dreamed. He stood like one\namazed--like a bird that, rising to fly, finds its feet caught in a net.\n\nOrlando followed the course of the stream, and came to one of its turns\nwhere the rocks of the mountain bent in such a way as to form a sort of\ngrotto. The twisted stems of ivy and the wild vine draped the entrance\nof this recess, scooped by the hand of nature.\n\nThe unhappy paladin, on entering the grotto, saw letters which appeared\nto have been lately carved. They were verses which Medoro had written\nin honor of his happy nuptials with the beautiful queen. Orlando tried\nto persuade himself it must be some other Angelica whom those verses\ncelebrated, and as for Medoro, he had never heard his name. The sun was\nnow declining, and Orlando remounted his horse, and went on his way. He\nsoon saw the roof of a cottage whence the smoke ascended; he heard the\nbarking of dogs and the lowing of cattle, and arrived at a humble\ndwelling which seemed to offer an asylum for the night. The inmates, as\nsoon as they saw him, hastened to tender him service. One took his\nhorse, another his shield and cuirass, another his golden spurs. This\ncottage was the very same where Medoro had been carried, deeply\nwounded,--where Angelica had tended him, and afterwards married him.\nThe shepherd who lived in it loved to tell everybody the story of this\nmarriage, and soon related it, with all its details, to the miserable\nOrlando.\n\nHaving finished it, he went away, and returned with the precious\nbracelet which Angelica, grateful for his services, had given him as a\nmemorial. It was the one which Orlando had himself given her.\n\nThis last touch was the finishing stroke to the excited paladin.\nFrantic, exasperated, he exclaimed against the ungrateful and cruel\nprincess who had disdained him, the most renowned, the most indomitable\nof all the paladins of France,--him, who had rescued her from the most\nalarming perils,--him, who had fought the most terrible battles for her\nsake,--she to prefer to him a young Saracen! The pride of the noble\nCount was deeply wounded. Indignant, frantic, a victim to ungovernable\nrage, he rushed into the forest, uttering the most frightful shrieks.\n\n\"No, no!\" cried he, \"I am not the man they take me for! Orlando is\ndead! I am only the wandering ghost of that unhappy Count, who is now\nsuffering the torments of hell!\"\n\nOrlando wandered all night, as chance directed, through the wood, and\nat sunrise his destiny led him to the fountain where Medoro had\nengraved the fatal inscription. The frantic paladin saw it a second\ntime with fury, drew his sword, and hacked it from the rock.\n\nUnlucky grotto! you shall no more attract by your shade and coolness,\nyou shall no more shelter with your arch either shepherd or flock. And\nyou, fresh and pure fountain, you may not escape the rage of the\nfurious Orlando! He cast into the fountain branches, trunks of trees\nwhich he tore up, pieces of rocks which he broke off, plants uprooted,\nwith the earth adhering, and turf and brushes, so as to choke the\nfountain, and destroy the purity of its waters. At length, exhausted by\nhis violent exertions, bathed in sweat, breathless, Orlando sunk\npanting upon the earth, and lay there insensible three days and three\nnights.\n\nThe fourth day he started up and seized his arms. His helmet, his\nbuckler, he cast far from him; his hauberk and his clothes he rent\nasunder; the fragments were scattered through the wood. In fine, he\nbecame a furious madman. His insanity was such that he cared not to\nretain even his sword. But he had no need of Durindana, nor of other\narms, to do wonderful things. His prodigious strength sufficed. At the\nfirst wrench of his mighty arm he tore up a pine-tree by the roots.\nOaks, beeches, maples, whatever he met in his path, yielded in like\nmanner. The ancient forest soon became as bare as the borders of a\nmorass, where the fowler has cleared away the bushes to spread his\nnets. The shepherds, hearing the horrible crashing in the forest,\nabandoned their flocks to run and see the cause of this unwonted\nuproar. By their evil star, or for their sins, they were led thither.\nWhen they saw the furious state the Count was in, and his incredible\nforce, they would fain have fled out of his reach, but in their fears\nlost their presence of mind. The madman pursued them, seized one and\nrent him limb from limb, as easily as one would pull ripe apples from a\ntree. He took another by the feet, and used him as a club to knock down\na third. The shepherds fled; but it would have been hard for any to\nescape, if he had not at that moment left them to throw himself with\nthe same fury upon their flocks. The peasants, abandoning their ploughs\nand harrows, mounted on the roofs of buildings and pinnacles of the\nrocks, afraid to trust themselves even to the oaks and pines. From such\nheights they looked on, trembling at the raging fury of the unhappy\nOrlando. His fists, his teeth, his nails, his feet, seize, break, and\ntear cattle, sheep, and swine; the most swift in flight alone being\nable to escape him.\n\nWhen at last terror had scattered everything before him, he entered a\ncottage which was abandoned by its inhabitants, and there found that\nwhich served for food. His long fast had caused him to feel the most\nravenous hunger. Seizing whatever he found that was eatable, whether\nroots, acorns, or bread, raw meat or cooked, he gorged it\nindiscriminately.\n\nIssuing thence again, the frantic Orlando gave chase to whatever living\nthing he saw, whether men or animals. Sometimes he pursued the deer and\nhind, sometimes he attacked bears and wolves, and with his naked hands\nkilled and tore them, and devoured their flesh.\n\nThus he wandered, from place to place, through France, imperilling his\nlife a thousand ways, yet always preserved by some mysterious\nprovidence from a fatal result. But here we leave Orlando for a time,\nthat we may record what befell Zerbino and Isabella after their parting\nwith him.\n\nThe prince and his fair bride waited, by Orlando's request, near the\nscene of the battle for three days, that, if Mandricardo should return,\nthey might inform him where Orlando would give him another meeting. At\nthe end of that time their anxiety to know the issue led them to follow\nOrlando's traces, which led them at last to the wood where the trees\nwere inscribed with the names of Angelica and Medoro. They remarked how\nall these inscriptions were defaced, and how the grotto was disordered,\nand the fountain clogged with rubbish. But that which surprised them\nand distressed them most of all was to find on the grass the cuirass of\nOrlando, and not far from it his helmet, the same which the renowned\nAlmontes once wore.\n\nHearing a horse neigh in the forest, Zerbino turned his eyes in that\ndirection, and saw Brigliadoro, with the bridle yet hanging at the\nsaddle-bow. He looked round for Durindana, and found that famous sword,\nwithout the scabbard, lying on the grass. He saw also the fragments of\nOrlando's other arms and clothing scattered on all sides over the plain.\n\nZerbino and Isabella stood in astonishment and grief, not knowing what\nto think, but little imagining the true cause. If they had found any\nmarks of blood on the arms or on the fragments of the clothing, they\nwould have supposed him slain, but there were none. While they were in\nthis painful uncertainty they saw a young peasant approach. He, not yet\nrecovered from the terror of the scene, which he had witnessed from the\ntop of a rock, told them the whole of the sad events.\n\nZerbino, with his eyes full of tears, carefully collected all the\nscattered arms. Isabella also dismounted to aid him in the sad duty.\nWhen they had collected all the pieces of that rich armor they hung\nthem like a trophy on a pine; and to prevent their being violated by\nany passers-by, Zerbino inscribed on the bark this caution: \"These are\nthe arms of the Paladin Orlando.\"\n\nHaving finished this pious work, he remounted his horse, and just then\na knight rode up, and requested Zerbino to tell him the meaning of the\ntrophy. The prince related the facts as they had happened; and\nMandricardo, for it was that Saracen knight, full of joy, rushed\nforward, and seized the sword, saying, \"No one can censure me for what\nI do; this sword is mine; I can take my own wherever I find it. It is\nplain that Orlando, not daring to defend it against me, has\ncounterfeited madness to excuse him in surrendering it.\"\n\nZerbino vehemently exclaimed, \"Touch not that sword. Think not to\npossess it without a contest. If it be true that the arms you wear are\nthose of Hector, you must have got them by theft, and not by prowess.\"\n\nImmediately they attacked one another with the utmost fury. The air\nresounded with thick-falling blows. Zerbino, skilful and alert, evaded\nfor a time with good success the strokes of Durindana; but at length a\nterrible blow struck him on the neck. He fell from his horse, and the\nTartar king, possessed of the spoils of his victory, rode away.\n\n\n\nZERBINO AND ISABELLA\n\nZerbino's pain at seeing the Tartar prince go off with the sword\nsurpassed the anguish of his wound; but now the loss of blood so\nreduced his strength that he could not move from where he fell.\nIsabella, not knowing whither to resort for help, could only bemoan\nhim, and chide her cruel fate. Zerbino said, \"If I could but leave\nthee, my best beloved, in some secure abode, it would not distress me\nto die; but to abandon thee so, without protection, is sad indeed.\" She\nreplied, \"Think not to leave me, dearest; our souls shall not be\nparted; this sword will give me the means to follow thee.\" Zerbino's\nlast words implored her to banish such a thought, but live, and be true\nto his memory. Isabella promised, with many tears, to be faithful to\nhim so long as life should last.\n\nWhen he ceased to breathe, Isabella's cries resounded through the\nforest, and reached the ears of a reverend hermit, who hastened to the\nspot. He soothed and calmed her, urging those consolations which the\nword of God supplies; and at last brought her to wish for nothing else\nbut to devote herself for the rest of life wholly to religion.\n\nAs she could not bear the thoughts of leaving her dead lord abandoned,\nthe body was, by the good hermit's aid, placed upon the horse, and\ntaken to the nearest inhabited place, where a chest was made for it,\nsuitable to be carried with them on their way. The hermit's plan was to\nescort his charge to a monastery, not many days' journey distant, where\nIsabella resolved to spend the remainder of her days. Thus they\ntravelled day after day, choosing the most retired ways, for the\ncountry was full of armed men. One day a cavalier met them, and barred\ntheir way. It was no other than Rodomont, king of Algiers, who had just\nleft the camp of Agramant, full of indignation at the treatment he had\nreceived from Doralice. At sight of the lovely lady and her reverend\nattendant, with their horse laden with a burden draped with black, he\nasked the meaning of their journey. Isabella told him her affliction,\nand her resolution to renounce the world and devote herself to\nreligion, and to the memory of the friend she had lost. Rodomont\nlaughed scornfully at this, and told her that her project was absurd;\nthat charms like hers were meant to be enjoyed, not buried, and that he\nhimself would more than make amends for her dead lover. The monk, who\npromptly interposed to rebuke this impious talk, was commanded to hold\nhis peace; and still persisting was seized by the knight and hurled\nover the edge of the cliff, where he fell into the sea, and was drowned.\n\nRodomont, when he had got rid of the hermit, again applied to the sad\nlady, heartless with affright, and, in the language used by lovers,\nsaid, \"she was his very heart, his life, his light.\" Having laid aside\nall violence, he humbly sued that she would accompany him to his\nretreat, near by. It was a ruined chapel from which the monks had been\ndriven by the disorders of the time, and which Rodomont had taken\npossession of. Isabella, who had no choice but to obey, followed him,\nmeditating as she went what resource she could find to escape out of\nhis power, and keep her vow to her dead husband, to be faithful to his\nmemory as long as life should last. At length she said, \"If, my lord,\nyou will let me go and fulfil my vow, and my intention, as I have\nalready declared it, I will bestow upon you what will be to you of more\nvalue than a hundred women's hearts. I know an herb, and I have seen it\non our way, which, rightly prepared, affords a juice of such power,\nthat the flesh, if laved with it, becomes impenetrable to sword or\nfire. This liquor I can make, and will, to-day, if you will accept my\noffer; and when you have seen its virtue you will value it more than if\nall Europe were made your own.\"\n\nRodomont, at hearing this, readily promised all that was asked, so\neager was he to learn a secret that would make him as Achilles was of\nyore. Isabella, having collected such herbs as she thought proper, and\nboiled them, with certain mysterious signs and words, at length\ndeclared her labor done, and, as a test, offered to try its virtue on\nherself. She bathed her neck and bosom with the liquor, and then called\non Rodomont to smite with all his force, and see whether his sword had\npower to harm. The pagan, who during the preparations had taken\nfrequent draughts of wine, and scarce knew what he did, drew his sword\nat the word, and struck across her neck with all his might, and the\nfair head leapt sundered from the snowy neck and breast.\n\nRude and unfeeling as he was, the pagan knight lamented bitterly this\nsad result. To honor her memory he resolved to do a work as\nunparalleled as her devotion. From all parts round he caused laborers\nto be brought, and had a tower built to enclose the chapel, within\nwhich the remains of Zerbino and Isabella were entombed. Across the\nstream which flowed near by he built a bridge, scarce two yards wide,\nand added neither parapet nor rail. On the top of the tower a sentry\nwas placed, who, when any traveller approached the bridge, gave notice\nto his master. Rodomont thereupon sallied out, and defied the\napproaching knight to fight him upon the bridge, where any chance step\na little aside would plunge the rider headlong in the stream. This\nbridge he vowed to keep until a thousand suits of armor should be won\nfrom conquered knights, wherewith to build a trophy to his victim and\nher lord.\n\nWithin ten days the bridge was built, and the tower was in progress. In\na short time many knights, either seeking the shortest route, or\ntempted by a desire of adventure, had made the attempt to pass the\nbridge. All, without exception, had lost either arms or life, or both;\nsome falling before Rodomont's lance, others precipitated into the\nriver. One day, as Rodomont stood urging his workmen, it chanced that\nOrlando in his furious mood came thither, and approached the bridge.\nRodomont halloed to him, \"Halt, churl; presume not to set foot upon\nthat bridge; it was not made for such as you!\" Orlando took no notice,\nbut pressed on. Just then a gentle damsel rode up. It was Flordelis,\nwho was seeking her Florismart. She saw Orlando, and, in spite of his\nstrange appearance, recognized him. Rodomont, not used to have his\ncommands disobeyed, laid hands on the madman, and would have thrown him\ninto the river, but to his astonishment found himself in the gripe of\none not so easily disposed of. \"How can a fool have such strength?\" he\ngrowled between his teeth. Flordelis stopped to see the issue, where\neach of these two puissant warriors strove to throw the other from the\nbridge. Orlando at last had strength enough to lift his foe with all\nhis armor, and fling him over the side, but had not wit to clear\nhimself from him, so both fell together. High flashed the wave as they\ntogether smote its surface. Here Orlando had the advantage; he was\nnaked, and could swim like a fish. He soon reached the bank, and,\ncareless of praise or blame, stopped not to see what came of the\nadventure. Rodomont, entangled with his armor, escaped with difficulty\nto the bank. Meantime, Flordelis passed the bridge unchallenged.\n\nAfter long wandering without success she returned to Paris, and there\nfound the object of her search; for Florismart, after the fall of\nAlbracca, had repaired thither. The joy of meeting was clouded to\nFlorismart by the news which Flordelis brought of Orlando's wretched\nplight. The last she had seen of him was when he fell with Rodomont\ninto the stream. Florismart, who loved Orlando like a brother, resolved\nto set out immediately, under the guidance of the lady, to find him,\nand bring him where he might receive the treatment suited to his case.\nA few days brought them to the place where they found the Tartar king\nstill guarding the bridge. The usual challenge and defiance was made,\nand the knights rode to encounter one another on the bridge. At the\nfirst encounter both horses were overthrown; and, having no space to\nregain their footing, fell with their riders into the water. Rodomont,\nwho knew the soundings of the stream, soon recovered the land; but\nFlorismart was carried downward by the current, and landed at last on a\nbank of mud where his horse could hardly find footing. Flordelis, who\nwatched the battle from the bridge, seeing her lover in this piteous\ncase, exclaimed aloud, \"Ah! Rodomont, for love of her whom dead you\nhonor, have pity on me, who love this knight, and slay him not. Let it\nsuffice he yields his armor to the pile, and none more glorious will it\nbear than his.\" Her prayer, so well directed, touched the pagan's\nheart, though hard to move, and he lent his aid to help the knight to\nland. He kept him a prisoner, however, and added his armor to the pile.\nFlordelis, with a heavy heart, went her way.\n\nWe must now return to Rogero, who, when we parted with him, was engaged\nin an adventure which arrested his progress to the monastery whither he\nwas bound with the intention of receiving baptism, and thus qualifying\nhimself to demand Bradamante as his bride. On his way he met with\nMandricardo, and the quarrel was revived respecting the right to wear\nthe badge of Hector. After a warm discussion both parties agreed to\nsubmit the question to King Agramant, and for that purpose took their\nway to the Saracen camp. Here they met Gradasso, who had his\ncontroversy also with Mandricardo. This warrior claimed the sword of\nOrlando, denying the right of Mandricardo to possess it in virtue of\nhis having found it abandoned by its owner. King Agramant strove in\nvain to reconcile these quarrels, and was forced at last to consent\nthat the points in dispute should be settled by one combat, in which\nMandricardo should meet one of the other champions, to whom should be\ncommitted the cause of both. Rogero was chosen by lot to maintain\nGradasso's cause and his own. Great preparations were made for this\nsignal contest. On the appointed day it was fought in the presence of\nAgramant, and of the whole army. Rogero won it; and Mandricardo, the\nconqueror of Hector's arms, the challenger of Orlando, and the slayer\nof Zerbino, lost his life. Gradasso received Durindana as his prize,\nwhich lost half its value in his eyes, since it was won by another's\nprowess, not his own.\n\nRogero, though victorious, was severely wounded, and lay helpless many\nweeks in the camp of Agramant, while Bradamante, ignorant of the cause\nof his delay, expected him at Montalban. Thither he had promised to\nrepair in fifteen days, or twenty at furthest, hoping to have obtained\nby that time an honorable discharge from his obligations to the Saracen\ncommander. The twenty days were passed, and a month more, and still\nRogero came not, nor did any tidings reach Bradamante accounting for\nhis absence. At the end of that time, a wandering knight brought news\nof the famous combat, and of Rogero's wound. He added, what alarmed\nBradamante still more, that Marphisa, a female warrior, young and fair,\nwas in attendance on the wounded knight. He added that the whole army\nexpected that, as soon as Rogero's wounds were healed, the pair would\nbe united in marriage.\n\nBradamante, distressed by this news, though she believed it but in\npart, resolved to go immediately and see for herself. She mounted\nRabican, the horse of Astolpho, which he had committed to her care, and\ntook with her the lance of gold, though unaware of its wonderful\npowers. Thus accoutred, she left the castle, and took the road toward\nParis and the camp of the Saracens.\n\nMarphisa, whose devotion to Rogero in his illness had so excited the\njealousy of Bradamante, was the twin sister of Rogero. She, with him,\nhad been taken in charge when an infant by Atlantes, the magician, but\nwhile yet a child she had been stolen away by an Arab tribe. Adopted by\ntheir chief, she had early learned horsemanship and skill in arms, and\nat this time had come to the camp of Agramant with no other view than\nto see and test for herself the prowess of the warriors of either camp,\nwhose fame rang through the world. Arriving at the very moment of the\nlate encounter, the name of Rogero, and some few facts of his story\nwhich she learned, were enough to suggest the idea that it was her\nbrother whom she saw victorious in the single combat. Inquiry satisfied\nthe two of their near kindred, and from that moment Marphisa devoted\nherself to the care of her new-found and much-loved brother.\n\nIn those moments of seclusion Rogero informed his sister of what he had\nlearned of their parentage from old Atlantes. Rogero, their father, a\nChristian knight, had won the heart of Galaciella, daughter of the\nSultan of Africa, and sister of King Agramant, converted her to the\nChristian faith, and secretly married her. The Sultan, enraged at his\ndaughter's marriage, drove her husband into exile, and caused her with\nher infant children, Rogero and Marphisa, to be placed in a boat and\ncommitted to the winds and waves, to perish; from which fate they were\nsaved by Atlantes. On hearing this, Marphisa exclaimed, \"How can you,\nbrother, leave our parents unavenged so long, and even submit to serve\nthe son of the tyrant who so wronged them?\" Rogero replied that it was\nbut lately he had learned the full truth; that when he learned it he\nwas already embarked with Agramant, from whom he had received\nknighthood, and that he only waited for a suitable opportunity when he\nmight with honor desert his standard, and at the same time return to\nthe faith of his fathers. Marphisa hailed this resolution with joy, and\ndeclared her intention to join with him in embracing the Christian\nfaith.\n\nWe left Bradamante when, mounted on Rabican and armed with Astolpho's\nlance, she rode forth, determined to learn the cause of Rogero's long\nabsence. One day, as she rode, she met a damsel, of visage and of\nmanners fair, but overcome with grief. It was Flordelis, who was\nseeking far and near a champion capable of liberating and avenging her\nlord. Flordelis marked the approaching warrior, and, judging from\nappearances, thought she had found the champion she sought. \"Are you,\nSir Knight,\" she said, \"so daring and so kind as to take up my cause\nagainst a fierce and cruel warrior who has made prisoner of my lord,\nand forced me thus to be a wanderer and a suppliant?\" Then she related\nthe events which had happened at the bridge. Bradamante, to whom noble\nenterprises were always welcome, readily embraced this, and the rather\nas in her gloomy forebodings she felt as if Rogero was forever lost to\nher.\n\nNext day the two arrived at the bridge. The sentry descried them\napproaching, and gave notice to his lord, who thereupon donned his\narmor and went forth to meet them. Here, as usual, he called on the\nadvancing warrior to yield his horse and arms an oblation to the tomb.\nBradamante replied, asking by what right he called on the innocent to\ndo penance for his crime. \"Your life and your armor,\" she added, \"are\nthe fittest offering to her tomb, and I, a woman, the fittest champion\nto take them.\" With that she couched her spear, spurred her horse, and\nran to the encounter. King Rodomont came on with speed. The trampling\nsounded on the bridge like thunder. It took but a moment to decide the\ncontest. The golden lance did its office, and that fierce Moor, so\nrenowned in tourney, lay extended on the bridge. \"Who is the loser\nnow?\" said Bradamante; but Rodomont, amazed that a woman's hand should\nhave laid him low, could not or would not answer. Silent and sad, he\nraised himself, unbound his helm and mail, and flung them against the\ntomb; then, sullen and on foot, left the ground; but first gave orders\nto one of his squires to release all his prisoners. They had been sent\noff to Africa. Besides Florismart, there were Sansonnet and Oliver, who\nhad ridden that way in quest of Orlando, and had both in turn been\noverthrown in the encounter.\n\nBradamante after her victory resumed her route, and in due time reached\nthe Christian camp, where she readily learned an explanation of the\nmystery which had caused her so much anxiety. Rogero and his fair and\nbrave sister, Marphisa, were too illustrious by their station and\nexploits not to be the frequent topic of discourse even among their\nadversaries, and all that Bradamante was anxious to know reached her\near, almost without inquiry.\n\nWe now return to Gradasso, who by Rogero's victory had been made\npossessor of Durindana. There now only remained to him to seek the\nhorse of Rinaldo; and the challenge, given and accepted, was yet to be\nfought with that warrior, for it had been interrupted by the arts of\nMalagigi. Gradasso now sought another meeting with Rinaldo, and met\nwith no reluctance on his part. As the combat was for the possession of\nBayard, the knights dismounted and fought on foot. Long time the battle\nlasted. Rinaldo, knowing well the deadly stroke of Durindana, used all\nhis art to parry or avoid its blow. Gradasso struck with might and\nmain, but wellnigh all his strokes were spent in air, or if they smote\nthey fell obliquely and did little harm.\n\nThus had they fought long, glancing at one another's eyes, and seeing\nnaught else, when their attention was arrested perforce by a strange\nnoise. They turned, and beheld the good Bayard attacked by a monstrous\nbird. Perhaps it was a bird, for such it seemed; but when or where such\na bird was ever seen I have nowhere read, except in Turpin; and I am\ninclined to believe that it was not a bird, but a fiend, evoked from\nunderground by Malagigi, and thither sent on purpose to interrupt the\nfight. Whether a fiend or a fowl, the monster flew right at Bayard, and\nclapped his wings in his face. Thereat the steed broke loose, and ran\nmadly across the plain, pursued by the bird, till Bayard plunged into\nthe wood, and was lost to sight.\n\nRinaldo and Gradasso, seeing Bayard's escape, agreed to suspend their\nbattle till they could recover the horse, the object of contention.\nGradasso mounted his steed, and followed the foot-marks of Bayard into\nthe forest. Rinaldo, never more vexed in spirit, remained at the spot,\nGradasso having promised to return thither with the horse, if he found\nhim. He did find him, after long search, for he had the good fortune to\nhear him neigh. Thus he became possessed of both the objects for which\nhe had led an army from his own country, and invaded France. He did not\nforget his promise to bring Bayard back to the place where he had left\nRinaldo, but only muttering, \"Now I have got him, he little knows me\nwho expects me to give him up; if Rinaldo wants the horse let him seek\nhim in India, as I have sought him in France,\"--he made the best of his\nway to Arles, where his vessels lay; and in possession of the two\nobjects of his ambition, the horse and the sword, sailed away to his\nown country.\n\n\n\nASTOLPHO IN ABYSSINIA\n\nWhen we last parted with the adventurous paladin Astolpho, he was just\ncommencing that flight over the countries of the world from which he\npromised himself so much gratification. Our readers are aware that the\neagle and the falcon have not so swift a flight as the Hippogriff on\nwhich Astolpho rode. It was not long, therefore, before the paladin,\ndirecting his course toward the southeast, arrived over that part of\nAfrica where the great river Nile has its source. Here he alighted, and\nfound himself in the neighborhood of the capital of Abyssinia, ruled by\nSenapus, whose riches and power were immense. His palace was of\nsurpassing splendor; the bars of the gates, the hinges and locks, were\nall of pure gold; in fact, this metal, in that country, is put to all\nthose uses for which we employ iron. It is so common that they prefer\nfor ornamental purposes rock crystal, of which all the columns were\nmade. Precious stones of different kinds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires,\nand topazes were set in ornamental designs, and the walls and ceilings\nwere adorned with pearls.\n\nIt is in this country those famous balms grow of which there are some\nfew plants in that part of Judaea called Gilead. Musk, ambergris, and\nnumerous gums, so precious in Europe, are here in their native climate.\nIt is said the Sultan of Egypt pays a vast tribute to the monarch of\nthis country to hire him not to cut off the source of the Nile, which\nhe might easily do, and cause the river to flow in some other\ndirection, thus depriving Egypt of the source of its fertility.\n\nAt the time of Astolpho's arrival in his dominions, this monarch was in\ngreat affliction. In spite of his riches and the precious productions\nof his country, he was in danger of dying of hunger. He was a prey to a\nflock of obscene birds called Harpies, which attacked him whenever he\nsat at meat, and with their claws snatched, tore, and scattered\neverything, overturning the vessels, devouring the food, and infecting\nwhat they left with their filthy touch. It was said this punishment was\ninflicted upon the king because when young, and filled with pride and\npresumption, he had attempted to invade with an army the terrestrial\nparadise, which is situated on the top of a mountain whence the Nile\ndraws its source. Nor was this his only punishment. He was struck blind.\n\nAstolpho, on arriving in the dominions of this monarch, hastened to pay\nhim his respects. King Senapus received him graciously, and ordered a\nsplendid repast to be prepared in honor of his arrival. While the\nguests were seated at table, Astolpho filling the place of dignity at\nthe king's right hand, the horrid scream of the Harpies was heard in\nthe air, and soon they approached, hovering over the tables, seizing\nthe food from the dishes, and overturning everything with the flapping\nof their broad wings. In vain the guests struck at them with knives and\nany weapons which they had, and Astolpho drew his sword and gave them\nrepeated blows, which seemed to have no more effect upon them than if\ntheir bodies had been made of tow.\n\nAt last Astolpho thought of his horn. He first gave warning to the king\nand his guests to stop their ears; then blew a blast. The Harpies,\nterrified at the sound, flew away as fast as their wings could carry\nthem. The paladin mounted his Hippogriff, and pursued them, blowing his\nhorn as often as he came near them. They stretched their flight towards\nthe great mountain, at the foot of which there is a cavern, which is\nthought to be the mouth of the infernal abodes. Hither those horrid\nbirds flew, as if to their home. Having seen them all disappear in the\nrecess, Astolpho cared not to pursue them farther, but alighting,\nrolled huge stones into the mouth of the cave, and piled branches of\ntrees therein, so that he effectually barred their passage out, and we\nhave no evidence of their ever having been seen since in the outer air.\n\nAfter this labor Astolpho refreshed himself by bathing in a fountain\nwhose pure waters bubbled from a cleft of the rock. Having rested\nawhile, an earnest desire seized him of ascending the mountain which\ntowered above him. The Hippogriff bore him swiftly upwards, and landed\nhim on the top of the mountain, which he found to be an extensive plain.\n\nA splendid palace rose in the middle of this plain, whose walls shone\nwith such brilliancy that mortal eyes could hardly bear the sight.\nAstolpho guided the winged horse towards this edifice, and made him\npoise himself in the air while he took a leisurely survey of this\nfavored spot and its environs. It seemed as if nature and art had\nstriven with one another to see which could do the most for its\nembellishment.\n\nAstolpho, on approaching the edifice, saw a venerable man advance to\nmeet him. This personage was clothed in a long vesture as white as\nsnow, while a mantle of purple covered his shoulders, and hung down to\nthe ground. A white beard descended to his middle, and his hair, of the\nsame color, overshadowed his shoulders. His eyes were so brilliant that\nAstolpho felt persuaded that he was a blessed inhabitant of the\nheavenly mansions.\n\nThe sage, smiling benignantly upon the paladin, who from respect had\ndismounted from his horse, said to him: \"Noble chevalier, know that it\nis by the Divine will you have been brought to the terrestrial\nparadise. Your mortal nature could not have borne to scale these\nheights and reach these seats of bliss if it were not the will of\nHeaven that you should be instructed in the means to succor Charles,\nand to sustain the glory of our holy faith. I am prepared to impart the\nneeded counsels; but before I begin let me welcome you to our sojourn.\nI doubt not your long fast and distant journey have given you a good\nappetite.\"\n\nThe aspect of the venerable man filled the prince with admiration; but\nhis surprise ceased when he learned from him that he was that one of\nthe Apostles of our Lord to whom he said, \"I will that thou tarry till\nI come.\"\n\nSt. John, conducting Astolpho, rejoined his companions. These were the\npatriarch Enoch and the prophet Elijah; neither of whom had yet seen\nhis dying day, but, taken from our lower world, were dwelling in a\nregion of peace and joy, in a climate of eternal spring, till the last\ntrumpet shall sound.\n\nThe three holy inhabitants of the terrestrial paradise received\nAstolpho with the greatest kindness, carried him to a pleasant\napartment, and took great care of the Hippogriff, to whom they gave\nsuch food as suited him, while to the prince they presented fruits so\ndelicious that he felt inclined to excuse our first parents for their\nsin in eating them without permission.\n\nAstolpho, having recruited his strength, not only by these excellent\nfruits, but also by sweet sleep, roused himself at the first blush of\ndawn, and as soon as he left his chamber met the beloved Apostle coming\nto seek him. St. John took him by the hand, and told him many things\nrelating to the past and the future. Among others, he said, \"Son, let\nme tell you what is now going on in France. Orlando, the illustrious\nprince who received at his birth the endowment of strength and courage\nmore than mortal, raised up as was Samson of old to be the champion of\nthe true faith, has been guilty of the basest ingratitude in leaving\nthe Christian camp when it most needed the support of his arm, to run\nafter a Saracen princess, whom he would fain marry, though she scorns\nhim. To punish him his reason has been taken away, so that he runs\nnaked through the land, over mountains and through valleys, without a\nray of intelligence. The duration of his punishment has been fixed at\nthree months, and that time having nearly expired, you have been\nbrought hither to learn from us the means by which the reason of\nOrlando may be restored. True, you will be obliged to make a journey\nwith me, and we must even leave the earth, and ascend to the moon, for\nit is in that planet we are to seek the remedy for the madness of the\npaladin. I propose to make our journey this evening, as soon as the\nmoon appears over our head.\"\n\nAs soon as the sun sunk beneath the seas, and the moon presented its\nluminous disk, the holy man had the chariot brought out in which he was\naccustomed to make excursions among the stars, the same which was\nemployed long ago to convey Elijah up from earth. The saint made\nAstolpho seat himself beside him, took the reins, and giving the word\nto the coursers, they bore them upward with astonishing celerity.\n\nAt length they reached the great continent of the Moon. Its surface\nappeared to be of polished steel, with here and there a spot which,\nlike rust, obscured its brightness. The paladin was astonished to see\nthat the earth, with all its seas and rivers, seemed but an\ninsignificant spot in the distance.\n\nThe prince discovered in this region so new to him rivers, lakes,\nplains, hills, and valleys. Many beautiful cities and castles enriched\nthe landscape. He saw also vast forests, and heard in them the sound of\nhorns and the barking of dogs, which led him to conclude that the\nnymphs were following the chase.\n\nThe knight, filled with wonder at all he saw, was conducted by the\nsaint to a valley, where he stood amazed at the riches strewed all\naround him. Well he might be so, for that valley was the receptacle of\nthings lost on earth, either by men's fault, or by the effect of time\nand chance. Let no one suppose we speak here of kingdoms or of\ntreasures; they are the toys of Fortune, which she dispenses in turning\nher wheel; we speak of things which she can neither give nor take away.\nSuch are reputations, which appear at one time so brilliant, and a\nshort time after are heard of no more. Here, also, are countless vows\nand prayers for unattainable objects, lovers' sighs and tears, time\nspent in gaming, dressing, and doing nothing, the leisure of the dull\nand the intentions of the lazy, baseless projects, intrigues, and\nplots; these and such like things fill all the valley.\n\nAstolpho had a great desire to understand all that he saw, and which\nappeared to him so extraordinary. Among the rest, he observed a great\nmountain of blown bladders, from which issued indistinct noises. The\nsaint told him these were the dynasties of Assyrian and Persian kings,\nonce the wonder of the earth, of which now scarce the name remains.\n\nAstolpho could not help laughing when the saint said to him, \"All these\nhooks of silver and gold that you see are the gifts of courtiers to\nprinces, made in the hope of getting something better in return.\" He\nalso showed him garlands of flowers in which snares were concealed;\nthese were flatteries and adulations, meant to deceive. But nothing was\nso comical as the sight of numerous grasshoppers which had burst their\nlungs with chirping. These, he told him, were sonnets, odes, and\ndedications, addressed by venal poets to great people.\n\nThe paladin beheld with wonder what seemed a lake of spilled milk. \"It\nis,\" said the saint, \"the charity done by frightened misers on their\ndeath-beds.\" It would take too long to tell all that the valley\ncontained: meanness, affectations, pretended virtues, and concealed\nvices were there in abundance.\n\nAmong the rest Astolpho perceived many days of his own lost, and many\nimprudent sallies which he had made, and would have been glad not to\nhave been reminded of. But he also saw among so many lost things a\ngreat abundance of one thing which men are apt to think they all\npossess, and do not think it necessary to pray for,--good sense. This\ncommodity appeared under the form of a liquor, most light and apt to\nevaporate. It was therefore kept in vials, firmly sealed. One of these\nwas labelled, \"The sense of the Paladin Orlando.\"\n\nAll the bottles were ticketed, and the sage placed one in Astolpho's\nhand, which he found was his own. It was more than half full. He was\nsurprised to find there many other vials which contained almost the\nwhole of the wits of many persons who passed among men for wise. Ah,\nhow easy it is to lose one's reason! Some lose theirs by yielding to\nthe sway of the passions; some in braving tempests and shoals in search\nof wealth; some by trusting too much to the promises of the great; some\nby setting their hearts on trifles. As might have been expected, the\nbottles which held the wits of astrologers, inventors, metaphysicians,\nand above all, of poets, were in general the best filled of all.\n\nAstolpho took his bottle, put it to his nose, and inhaled it all; and\nTurpin assures us that he was for a long time afterwards as sage as one\ncould wish; but the Archbishop adds that there was reason to fear that\nsome of the precious fluid afterwards found its way back into the\nbottle. The paladin took also the bottle which belonged to Orlando. It\nwas a large one, and quite full.\n\nBefore quitting the planetary region Astolpho was conducted to an\nedifice on the borders of a river. He was shown an immense hall full of\nbundles of silk, linen, cotton, and wool. A thousand different colors,\nbrilliant or dull, some quite black, were among these skeins. In one\npart of the hall an old woman was busy winding off yarns from all these\ndifferent bundles. When she had finished a skein another ancient dame\ntook it and placed it with others; a third selected from the fleeces\nspun, and mingled them in due proportions. The paladin inquired what\nall this might be. \"These old women,\" said the saint, \"are the Fates,\nwho spin, measure, and terminate the lives of mortals. As long as the\nthread stretches in one of those skeins, so long does the mortal enjoy\nthe light of day; but nature and death are on the alert to shut the\neyes of those whose thread is spun.\"\n\nEach one of the skeins had a label of gold, silver, or iron, bearing\nthe name of the individual to whom it belonged. An old man, who, in\nspite of the burden of years, seemed brisk and active, ran without\nceasing to fill his apron with these labels, and carried them away to\nthrow them into the river, whose name was Lethe. When he reached the\nshore of the river the old man shook out his apron, and the labels sunk\nto the bottom. A small number only floated for a time, hardly one in a\nthousand. Numberless birds, hawks, crows, and vultures hovered over the\nstream, with clamorous cries, and strove to snatch from the water some\nof these names; but they were too heavy for them, and after a while the\nbirds were forced to let them drop into the river of oblivion. But two\nbeautiful swans, of snowy whiteness, gathered some few of the names,\nand returned with them to the shore, where a lovely nymph received them\nfrom their beaks, and carried them to a temple placed upon a hill, and\nsuspended them for all time upon a sacred column, on which stood the\nstatue of Immortality.\n\nAstolpho was amazed at all this, and asked his guide to explain it. He\nreplied, \"The old man is Time. All the names upon the tickets would be\nimmortal if the old man did not plunge them into the river of oblivion.\nThose clamorous birds which make vain efforts to save certain of the\nnames are flatterers, pensioners, venal rhymesters, who do their best\nto rescue from oblivion the unworthy names of their patrons; but all in\nvain; they may keep them from their fate a little while, but ere long\nthe river of oblivion must swallow them all.\n\n\"The swans, that with harmonious strains carry certain names to the\ntemple of Eternal Memory, are the great poets, who save from oblivion\nworse than death the names of those they judge worthy of immortality.\nSwans of this kind are rare. Let monarchs know the true breed, and fail\nnot to nourish with care such as may chance to appear in their time.\"\n\n\n\nTHE WAR IN AFRICA\n\nWhen Astolpho had descended to the earth with the precious phial, St.\nJohn showed him a plant of marvellous virtues, with which he told him\nhe had only to touch the eyes of the king of Abyssinia to restore him\nto sight. \"That important service,\" said the saint, \"added to your\nhaving delivered him from the Harpies, will induce him to give you an\narmy wherewith to attack the Africans in their rear, and force them to\nreturn from France to defend their own country.\" The saint also\ninstructed him how to lead his troops in safety across the great\ndeserts, where caravans are often overwhelmed with moving columns of\nsand. Astolpho, fortified with ample instructions, remounted the\nHippogriff, thanked the saint, received his blessing, and took his\nflight down to the level country.\n\nKeeping the course of the river Nile, he soon arrived at the capital of\nAbyssinia, and rejoined Senapus. The joy of the king was great when he\nheard again the voice of the hero who had delivered him from the\nHarpies. Astolpho touched his eyes with the plant which he had brought\nfrom the terrestrial paradise, and restored their sight. The king's\ngratitude was unbounded. He begged him to name a reward, promising to\ngrant it, whatever it might be. Astolpho asked an army to go to the\nassistance of Charlemagne, and the king not only granted him a hundred\nthousand men, but offered to lead them himself.\n\nThe night before the day appointed for the departure of the troops\nAstolpho mounted his winged horse, and directed his flight towards a\nmountain, whence the fierce South-wind issues, whose blast raises the\nsands of the Nubian desert, and whirls them onward in overwhelming\nclouds. The paladin, by the advice of St. John, had prepared himself\nwith a leather bag, which he placed adroitly, with its mouth open, over\nthe vent whence issues this terrible wind. At the first dawn of morning\nthe wind rushed from its cavern to resume its daily course, and was\ncaught in the bag, and securely tied up. Astolpho, delighted with his\nprize, returned to his army, placed himself at their head, and\ncommenced his march. The Abyssinians traversed without danger or\ndifficulty those vast fields of sand which separate their country from\nthe kingdoms of Northern Africa, for the terrible South-wind, taken\ncompletely captive, had not force enough left to blow out a candle.\n\nSenapus was distressed that he could not furnish any cavalry, for his\ncountry, rich in camels and elephants, was destitute of horses. This\ndifficulty the saint had foreseen, and had taught Astolpho the means of\nremedying. He now put those means in operation. Having reached a place\nwhence he beheld a vast plain and the sea, he chose from his troops\nthose who appeared to be the best made and the most intelligent. These\nhe caused to be arranged in squadrons at the foot of a lofty mountain\nwhich bordered the plain, and he himself mounted to the summit to carry\ninto effect his great design. Here he found vast quantities of\nfragments of rock and pebbles. These he set rolling down the mountain's\nside, and, wonderful to relate, as they rolled they grew in size, made\nthemselves bodies, legs, necks, and long faces. Next they began to\nneigh, to curvet, to scamper on all sides over the plain. Some were\nbay, some roan, some dapple, some chestnut. The troops at the foot of\nthe mountain exerted themselves to catch these new-created horses,\nwhich they easily did, for the miracle had been so considerate as to\nprovide all the horses with bridles and saddles. Astolpho thus suddenly\nfound himself supplied with an excellent corps of cavalry, not fewer\n(as Archbishop Turpin asserts) than eighty thousand strong. With these\ntroops Astolpho reduced all the country to subjection, and at last\narrived before the walls of Agramant's capital city, Biserta, to which\nhe laid siege.\n\nWe must now return to the camp of the Christians, which lay before\nArles, to which city the Saracens had retired after being defeated in a\nnight attack led on by Rinaldo. Agramant here received the tidings of\nthe invasion of his country by a fresh enemy, the Abyssinians, and\nlearned that Biserta was in danger of falling into their hands. He took\ncounsel of his officers, and decided to send an embassy to Charles,\nproposing that the whole quarrel should be submitted to the combat of\ntwo warriors, one from each side, according to the issue of which it\nshould be decided which party should pay tribute to the other, and the\nwar should cease. Charlemagne, who had not heard of the favorable turn\nwhich affairs had taken in Africa, readily agreed to this proposal, and\nRinaldo was selected on the part of the Christians to sustain the\ncombat.\n\nThe Saracens selected Rogero for their champion. Rogero was still in\nthe Saracen camp, kept there by honor alone, for his mind had been\nopened to the truth of the Christian faith by the arguments of\nBradamante, and he had resolved to leave the party of the infidels on\nthe first favorable opportunity, and to join the Christian side. But\nhis honor forbade him to do this while his former friends were in\ndistress; and thus he waited for what time might bring forth, when he\nwas startled by the announcement that he had been selected to uphold\nthe cause of the Saracens against the Christians, and that his foe was\nto be Rinaldo, the brother of Bradamante.\n\nWhile Rogero was overwhelmed with this intelligence Bradamante on her\nside felt the deepest distress at hearing of the proposed combat. If\nRogero should fall she felt that no other man living was worthy of her\nlove; and if, on the other hand, Heaven should resolve to punish France\nby the death of her chosen champion, Bradamante would have to deplore\nher brother, so dear to her, and be no less completely severed from the\nobject of her affections.\n\nWhile the fair lady gave herself up to these sad thoughts, the sage\nenchantress, Melissa, suddenly appeared before her. \"Fear not, my\ndaughter,\" said she, \"I shall find a way to interrupt this combat which\nso distresses you.\"\n\nMeanwhile Rinaldo and Rogero prepared their weapons for the conflict.\nRinaldo had the choice, and decided that it should be on foot, and with\nno weapons but the battle-axe and poniard. The place assigned was a\nplain between the camp of Charlemagne and the walls of Arles.\n\nHardly had the dawn announced the day appointed for this memorable\ncombat, when heralds proceeded from both sides to mark the lists.\nErelong the African troops were seen to advance from the city, Agramant\nat their head; his brilliant arms adorned in the Moorish fashion, his\nhorse a bay, with a white star on his forehead. Rogero marched at his\nside, and some of the greatest warriors of the Saracen camp attended\nhim, bearing the various parts of his armor and weapons. Charlemagne,\non his part, proceeded from his intrenchments, ranged his troops in\nsemicircle, and stood surrounded by his peers and paladins. Some of\nthem bore portions of the armor of Rinaldo, the celebrated Ogier, the\nDane, bearing the helmet which Rinaldo took from Mambrino. Duke Namo of\nBavaria and Salomon of Bretagne bore two axes, of equal weight,\nprepared for the occasion.\n\nThe terms of the combat were then sworn to with the utmost solemnity by\nall parties. It was agreed that if from either part any attempt was\nmade to interrupt the battle both combatants should turn their arms\nagainst the party which should be guilty of the interruption; and both\nmonarchs assented to the condition that in such case the champion of\nthe offending party should be discharged from his allegiance, and at\nliberty to transfer his arms to the other side.\n\nWhen all the preparations were concluded the monarchs and their\nattendants retired each to his own side, and the champions were left\nalone. The two warriors advanced with measured steps towards each\nother, and met in the middle of the space. They attacked one another at\nthe same moment, and the air resounded with the blows they gave. Sparks\nflew from their battle-axes, while the velocity with which they managed\ntheir weapons astonished the beholders. Rogero, always remembering that\nhis antagonist was the brother of his betrothed, could not aim a deadly\nwound; he strove only to ward off those levelled against himself.\nRinaldo, on the other hand, much as he esteemed Rogero, spared not his\nblows, for he eagerly desired victory for his own sake, and for the\nsake of his country and his faith.\n\nThe Saracens soon perceived that their champion fought feebly, and gave\nnot to Rinaldo such blows as he received from him. His disadvantage was\nso marked that anxiety and shame were manifest on the countenance of\nAgramant. Melissa, one of the most acute enchantresses that ever lived,\nseized this moment to disguise herself under the form of Rodomont, that\nrude and impetuous warrior, who had now for some time been absent from\nthe Saracen camp. Approaching Agramant, she said, \"How could you, my\nlord, have the imprudence of selecting a young man without experience\nto oppose the most redoubtable warrior of France? Surely you must have\nbeen regardless of the honor of your arms, and of the fate of your\nempire! But it is not too late. Break without delay the agreement which\nis sure to result in your ruin.\" So saying, she addressed the troops\nwho stood near, \"Friends,\" said she, \"follow me; under my guidance\nevery one of you will be a match for a score of those feeble\nChristians.\" Agramant, delighted at seeing Rodomont once more at his\nside, gave his consent, and the Saracens, at the instant, couched their\nlances, set spurs to their steeds, and swept down upon the French.\nMelissa, when she saw her work successful, disappeared.\n\nRinaldo and Rogero, seeing the truce broken, and the two armies engaged\nin general conflict, stopped their battle; their martial fury ceased at\nonce, they joined hands, and resolved to act no more on either side\nuntil it should be clearly ascertained which party had failed to\nobserve its oath. Both renewed their promise to abandon forever the\nparty which had been thus false and perjured.\n\nMeanwhile, the Christians, after the first moment of surprise, met the\nSaracens with courage redoubled by rage at the treachery of their foes.\nGuido the Wild, brother and rival of Rinaldo, Griffon and Aquilant,\nsons of Oliver, and numerous others whose names have already been\ncelebrated in our recitals, beat back the assailants, and at last,\nafter prodigious slaughter, forced them to take shelter within the\nwalls of Arles.\n\nWe will now return to Orlando, whom we last heard of as furiously mad,\nand doing a thousand acts of violence in his senseless rage. One day he\ncame to the borders of a stream which intercepted his course. He swam\nacross it, for he could swim like an otter, and on the other side saw a\npeasant watering his horse. He seized the animal, in spite of the\nresistance of the peasant, and rode it with furious speed till he\narrived at the sea-coast, where Spain is divided from Africa by only a\nnarrow strait. At the moment of his arrival a vessel had just put off\nto cross the strait. She was full of people who, with glass in hand,\nseemed to be taking a merry farewell of the land, wafted by a favorable\nbreeze.\n\nThe frantic Orlando cried out to them to stop and take him in; but\nthey, having no desire to admit a madman to their company, paid him no\nattention. The paladin thought this behavior very uncivil; and by force\nof blows made his horse carry him into the water in pursuit of the\nship. The wretched animal soon had only his head above water; but as\nOrlando urged him forward, nothing was left for the poor beast but\neither to die or swim over to Africa.\n\nAlready Orlando had lost sight of the bark; distance and the swell of\nthe sea completely hid it from his sight. He continued to press his\nhorse forward, till at last it could struggle no more, and sunk beneath\nhim. Orlando, nowise concerned, stretched out his nervous arms, puffing\nthe salt water from before his mouth, and carried his head above the\nwaves. Fortunately they were not rough, scarce a breath of wind\nagitated the surface; otherwise, the invincible Orlando would then have\nmet his death. But fortune, which it is said favors fools, delivered\nhim from this danger, and landed him safe on the shore of Ceuta. Here\nhe rambled along the shore till he came to where the black army of\nAstolpho held its camp.\n\nNow it happened, just before this time, that a vessel filled with\nprisoners which Rodomont had taken at the bridge had arrived, and, not\nknowing of the presence of the Abyssinian army, had sailed right into\nport, where of course the prisoners and their captors changed places,\nthe former being set at liberty and received with all joy, the latter\nsent to serve in the galleys. Astolpho thus found himself surrounded\nwith Christian knights, and he and his friends were exchanging\ngreetings and felicitations, when a noise was heard in the camp, and\nseemed to increase every moment.\n\nAstolpho and his friends seized their weapons, mounted their horses,\nand rode to the quarter whence the noise proceeded. Imagine their\nastonishment when they saw that the tumult was caused by a single man,\nperfectly naked, and browned with dirt and exposure, but of a force and\nfury so terrible that he overturned all that offered to lay hands on\nhim.\n\nAstolpho, Dudon, Oliver, and Florimart gazed at him with amazement. It\nwas with difficulty they knew him. Astolpho, who had been warned of his\ncondition by his holy monitor, was the first to recognize him. As the\npaladins closed round Orlando, the madman dealt one and another a blow\nof his fist, which, if they had not been in armor, or he had had any\nweapon, would probably have despatched them; as it was, Dudon and\nAstolpho measured their length on the sand. But Florimart seized him\nfrom behind, Sansonnet and another grasped his legs, and at last they\nsucceeded in securing him with ropes. They took him to the water-side\nand washed him well, and then Astolpho, having first bandaged his mouth\nso that he could not breathe except through his nose, brought the\nprecious phial, uncorked it, and placed it adroitly under his nostrils,\nwhen the good Orlando took it all up in one breath. O marvellous\nprodigy! The paladin recovered in an instant all his intelligence. He\nfelt like one who had awakened from a painful dream, in which he had\nbelieved that monsters were about to tear him to pieces. He seemed\nprostrated, silent, and abashed. Florismart, Oliver, and Astolpho stood\ngazing upon him, while he turned his eyes around and on himself. He\nseemed surprised to find himself naked, bound, and stretched on the\nsea-shore. After a few moments he recognized his friends, and spoke to\nthem in a tone so tender that they hastened to unbind him, and to\nsupply him with garments. Then they exerted themselves to console him,\nto diminish the weight with which his spirits were oppressed, and to\nmake him forget the wretched condition into which he had been sunk.\n\nOrlando, in recovering his reason, found himself also delivered from\nhis insane attachment to the queen of Cathay. His heart felt now no\nfurther influenced by the recollection of her than to be moved with an\nardent desire to retrieve his fame by some distinguished exploit.\nAstolpho would gladly have yielded to him the chief command of the\narmy, but Orlando would not take from the friend to whom he owed so\nmuch the glory of the campaign; but in everything the two paladins\nacted in concert, and united their counsels. They proposed to make a\ngeneral assault on the city of Biserta, and were only waiting a\nfavorable moment, when their plan was interrupted by new events.\n\nAgramant, after the bloody battle which followed the infraction of the\ntruce, found himself so weak that he saw it was in vain to attempt to\nremain in France. So, in concert with Sobrino, the bravest and most\ntrusted of his chiefs, he embarked to return to his own country, having\npreviously sent off his few remaining troops in the same direction. The\nvessel which carried Agramant and Sobrino approached the shore where\nthe army of Astolpho lay encamped before Biserta, and having discovered\nthis fact before it was too late, the king commanded the pilot to steer\neastward, with a view to seek protection of the King of Egypt. But the\nweather becoming rough, he consented to the advice of his companions,\nand sought harbor in an island which lies between Sicily and Africa.\nThere he found Gradasso, the warlike king of Sericane, who had come to\nFrance to possess himself of the horse Bayard and the sword Durindana;\nand having procured both these prizes was returning to his own country.\n\nThe two kings, who had been companions in arms under the walls of\nParis, embraced one another affectionately. Gradasso learned with\nregret the reverses of Agramant, and offered him his troops and his\nperson. He strongly deprecated resorting to Egypt for aid. \"Remember\nthe great Pompey,\" said he, \"and shun that fatal shore. My plan,\" he\ncontinued, \"is this: I mean to challenge Orlando to single combat.\nPossessed of such a sword and steed as mine, if he were made of steel\nor bronze, he could not escape me. He being removed, there will be no\ndifficulty in driving back the Abyssinians. We will rouse against them\nthe Moslem nations from the other side of the Nile, the Arabians,\nPersians, and Chaldeans, who will soon make Senapus recall his army to\ndefend his own territories.\"\n\nAgramant approved this advice except in one particular. \"It is for me,\"\nsaid he, \"to combat Orlando; I cannot with honor devolve that duty on\nanother.\"\n\n\"Let us adopt a third course,\" said the aged warrior Sobrino. \"I would\nnot willingly remain a simple spectator of such a contest. Let us send\nthree squires to the shore of Africa to challenge Orlando and any two\nof his companions in arms to meet us three in this island of Lampedusa.\"\n\nThis counsel was adopted; the three squires sped on their way; and now\npresented themselves, and rehearsed their message to the Christian\nknights.\n\nOrlando was delighted, and rewarded the squires with rich gifts. He had\nalready resolved to seek Gradasso and compel him to restore Durindana,\nwhich he had learned was in his possession. For his two companions the\nCount chose his faithful friend Florismart and his cousin Oliver.\n\nThe three warriors embarked, and sailing with a favorable wind, the\nsecond morning showed them, on their right, the island where this\nimportant battle was to be fought. Orlando and his two companions,\nhaving landed, pitched their tent. Agramant had placed his opposite.\n\nNext morning, as soon as Aurora brightened the edges of the horizon,\nthe warriors of both parties armed themselves and mounted their horses.\nThey took their positions, face to face, lowered their lances, placed\nthem in rest, clapped spurs to their horses, and flew to the charge.\nOrlando met the charge of Gradasso. The paladin was unmoved, but his\nhorse could not sustain the terrible shock of Bayard. He recoiled,\nstaggered, and fell some paces behind. Orlando tried to raise him, but,\nfinding his efforts unavailing, seized his shield, and drew his famous\nBalisardo. Meanwhile Agramant and the brave Oliver gained no advantage,\none or the other; but Florismart unhorsed the King Sobrino. Having\nbrought his foe to the ground, he would not pursue his victory, but\nhastened to attack Gradasso, who had overthrown Orlando. Seeing him\nthus engaged, Orlando would not interfere, but ran with sword upraised\nupon Sobrino, and with one blow deprived him of sense and motion.\nBelieving him dead, he next turned to aid his beloved Florismart. That\nbrave paladin, neither in horse nor arms equal to his antagonist, could\nbut parry and evade the blows of the terrible Durindana. Orlando, eager\nto succor him, was delayed for a moment in securing and mounting the\nhorse of the King Sobrino. It was but an instant, and with sword\nupraised, he rushed upon Gradasso who, noways disconcerted at the onset\nof this second foe, shouted his defiance, and thrust at him with his\nsword, but, having miscalculated the distance, scarcely reached him,\nand failed to pierce his mail. Orlando, in return, dealt him a blow\nwith Balisardo, which wounded as it fell face, breast, and thigh, and,\nif he had been a little nearer, would have cleft him in twain. Sobrino,\nby this time recovered from his swoon, though severely wounded, raised\nhimself on his legs, and looked to see how he might aid his friends.\nObserving Agramant hard pressed by Oliver, he thrust his sword into the\nbowels of the latter's horse, which fell, and bore down his master,\nentangling his leg as he fell, so that Oliver could not extricate\nhimself. Florismart saw the danger of his friend, and ran upon Sobrino\nwith his horse, overthrew him, and then turned to defend himself from\nAgramant. They were not unequally matched, for though Agramant, mounted\non Brigliadoro, had an advantage over Florismart, whose horse was but\nindifferent, yet Agramant had received a serious wound in his encounter\nwith Oliver.\n\nNothing could exceed the fury of the encounter between Orlando and\nGradasso. Durindana, in the hands of Gradasso, clove asunder whatever\nit struck; but such was the skill of Orlando, who perfectly knew the\ndanger to which he was exposed from a stroke of that weapon, it had not\nyet struck him in such a way as to inflict a wound. Meanwhile, Gradasso\nwas bleeding from many wounds, and his rage and incaution increased\nevery moment. In his desperation he lifted Durindana with both hands,\nand struck so terrible a blow full on the helmet of Orlando, that for a\nmoment it stunned the paladin. He dropped the reins, and his frightened\nhorse scoured with him over the plain. Gradasso turned to pursue him,\nbut at that moment saw Florismart in the very act of striking a fatal\nblow at Agramant, whom he had unhorsed. While Florismart was wholly\nintent upon completing his victory, Gradasso plunged his sword into his\nside. Florismart fell from his horse, and bathed the plain with his\nblood.\n\nOrlando recovered himself just in time to see the deed. Whether rage or\ngrief predominated in his breast, I cannot tell; but, seizing Balisardo\nwith fury, his first blow fell upon Agramant, who was nearest to him,\nand smote his head from his shoulders. At this sight Gradasso for the\nfirst time felt his courage sink, and a dark presentiment of death came\nover him. He hardly stood on his defence when Orlando cast himself upon\nhim, and gave him a fatal thrust. The sword penetrated his ribs, and\ncame out a palm's breadth on the other side of his body.\n\nThus fell beneath the sword of the most illustrious paladin of France\nthe bravest warrior of the Saracen host. Orlando then, as if despising\nhis victory, leaped lightly to the ground, and ran to his dear friend\nFlorismart, embraced him, and bathed him with his tears. Florismart\nstill breathed. He could even command his voice to utter a few parting\nwords: \"Dear friend, do not forget me,--give me your prayers,--and oh!\nbe a brother to Flordelis.\" He died in uttering her name.\n\nAfter a few moments given to grief Orlando turned to look for his other\ncompanion and his late foes. Oliver lay oppressed with the weight of\nhis horse, from which he had in vain struggled to liberate himself.\nOrlando extricated him with difficulty; he then raised Sobrino from the\nearth, and committed him to his squire, treating him as gently as if he\nhad been his own brother. For this terrible warrior was the most\ngenerous of men to a fallen foe. He took Bayard and Brigliadoro, with\nthe arms of the conquered knights; their bodies and their other spoils\nhe remitted to their attendants.\n\nBut who can tell the grief of Flordelis when she saw the warriors\nreturn, and found not Florismart as usual after absence hasten to her\nside. She knew by the aspect of the others that her lord was slain. At\nthe thought, and before the question could pass her lips, she fell\nsenseless upon the ground. When life returned, and she learned the\ntruth of her worst fears, she bitterly upbraided herself that she had\nlet him depart without her. \"I might have saved him by a single cry\nwhen his enemy dealt him that treacherous blow, or I might have thrown\nmyself between and given my worthless life for his. Or if no more, I\nmight have heard his last words, I might have given him a last kiss.\"\nSo she lamented, and could not be comforted.\n\n\n\nROGERO AND BRADAMANTE\n\nAfter the interruption of the combat with Rinaldo, as we have related,\nRogero was perplexed with doubts what course to take. The terms of the\ntreaty required him to abandon Agramant, who had broken it, and to\ntransfer his allegiance to Charlemagne; and his love for Bradamante\ncalled him in the same direction; but unwillingness to desert his\nprince and leader in the hour of distress forbade this course.\nEmbarking, therefore, for Africa, he took his way to rejoin the Saracen\narmy; but was arrested midway by a storm which drove the vessel on a\nrock. The crew took to their boat, but that was quickly swamped in the\nwaves, and Rogero with the rest were compelled to swim for their lives.\nThen while buffeting the waves Rogero bethought him of his sin in so\nlong delaying his Christian profession, and vowed in his heart that, if\nhe should live to reach the land, he would no longer delay to be\nbaptized. His vows were heard and answered; he succeeded in reaching\nthe shore, and was aided and relieved on landing by a pious hermit,\nwhose cell overlooked the sea. From him he received baptism, having\nfirst passed some days with him, partaking his humble fare, and\nreceiving instruction in the doctrines of the Christian faith.\n\nWhile these things were going on, Rinaldo, who had set out on his way\nto seek Gradasso and recover Bayard from him, hearing on his way of the\ngreat things which were doing in Africa, repaired thither to bear his\npart in them. He arrived too late to do more than join his friends in\nlamenting the loss of Florismart, and to rejoice with them in their\nvictory over the Pagan knights. On the death of their king the Africans\ngave up the contest, Biserta submitted, and the Christian knights had\nonly to dismiss their forces, and return home. Astolpho took leave of\nhis Abyssinian army, and sent them back laden with spoil to their own\ncountry, not forgetting to intrust to them the bag which held the\nwinds, by means of which they were enabled to cross the sandy desert\nagain without danger, and did not untie it till they reached their own\ncountry.\n\nOrlando now, with Oliver, who much needed the surgeon's care, and\nSobrino, to whom equal attention was shown, sailed in a swift vessel to\nSicily, bearing with him the body of Florismart, to be laid in\nChristian earth. Rinaldo accompanied them, as did Sansonnet and the\nother Christian leaders. Arrived at Sicily, the funeral was solemnized\nwith all the rites of religion, and with the profound grief of those\nwho had known Florismart, or had heard of his fame. Then they resumed\ntheir course, steering for Marseilles. But Oliver's wound grew worse\ninstead of better, and his sufferings so distressed his friends that\nthey conferred together, not knowing what to do. Then said the pilot,\n\"We are not far from an isle where a holy hermit dwells alone in the\nmidst of the sea. It is said none seek his counsel or his aid in vain.\nHe hath wrought marvellous cures, and if you resort to that holy man\nwithout doubt he can heal the knight.\" Orlando bade him steer thither,\nand soon the bark was laid safely beside the lonely rock; the wounded\nman was lowered into their boat, and carried by the crew to the\nhermit's cell. It was the same hermit with whom Rogero had taken refuge\nafter his shipwreck, by whom he had been baptized, and with whom he was\nnow staying, absorbed in sacred studies and meditations.\n\nThe holy man received Orlando and the rest with kindness, and inquired\ntheir errand; and being told that they had come for help for one who,\nwarring for the Christian faith, was brought to perilous pass by a sad\nwound, he straightway undertook the cure. His applications were simple,\nbut they were seconded by his prayers. The paladin was soon relieved\nfrom pain, and in a few days his foot was perfectly restored to\nsoundness. Sobrino, as soon as he perceived the holy monk perform that\nwonder, cast aside his false prophet, and with contrite heart owned the\ntrue God, and demanded baptism at his hands. The hermit granted his\nrequest, and also by his prayers restored him to health, while all the\nChristian knights rejoiced in his conversion almost as much as at the\nrestoration of Oliver. More than all Rogero felt joy and gratitude, and\ndaily grew in grace and faith.\n\nRogero was known by fame to all the Christian knights, but not even\nRinaldo knew him by sight, though he had proved his prowess in combat.\nSobrino made him known to them, and great was the joy of all when they\nfound one whose valor and courtesy were renowned through the world no\nlonger an enemy and unbeliever, but a convert and champion of the true\nfaith. All press about the knight; one grasps his hand, another locks\nhim fast in his embrace; but more than all the rest, Rinaldo cherished\nhim, for he more than any knew his worth.\n\nIt was not long before Rogero confided to his friend the hopes he\nentertained of a union with his sister, and Rinaldo frankly gave his\nsanction to the proposal. But causes unknown to the paladin were at\nthat very time interposing obstacles to its success.\n\nThe fame of the beauty and worth of Bradamante had reached the ears of\nthe Grecian Emperor, Constantine, and he had sent to Charlemagne to\ndemand the hand of his niece for Leo, his son, and the heir to his\ndominions. Duke Aymon, her father, had only reserved his consent until\nhe should first have spoken with his son Rinaldo, now absent.\n\nThe warriors now prepared to resume their voyage. Rogero took a tender\nfarewell of the good hermit who had taught him the true faith. Orlando\nrestored to him the horse and arms which were rightly his, not even\nasserting his claim to Balisarda, that sword which he himself had won\nfrom the enchantress.\n\nThe hermit gave his blessing to the band, and they reembarked. The\npassage was speedy, and very soon they arrived in the harbor of\nMarseilles.\n\nAstolpho, when he had dismissed his troops, mounted the Hippogriff, and\nat one flight shot over to Sardinia, thence to Corsica, thence, turning\nslightly to the left, hovered over Provence, and alighted in the\nneighborhood of Marseilles. There he did what he had been commanded to\ndo by the holy saint; he unbridled the Hippogriff, and turned him loose\nto seek his own retreats, never more to be galled with saddle or bit.\nThe horn had lost its marvellous power ever since the visit to the moon.\n\nAstolpho reached Marseilles the very day when Orlando, Rinaldo, Oliver,\nSobrino, and Rogero arrived there. Charles had already heard the news\nof the defeat of the Saracen kings, and all the accompanying events. On\nlearning the approach of the gallant knights, he sent forward some of\nhis most illustrious nobles to receive them, and himself, with the rest\nof his court, kings, dukes, and peers, the queen, and a fair and\ngorgeous band of ladies, set forward from Arles to meet them.\n\nNo sooner were the mutual greetings interchanged, than Orlando and his\nfriends led forward Rogero, and presented him to the Emperor. They\nvouch him son of Rogero, Duke of Risa, one of the most renowned of\nChristian warriors, by adverse fortune stolen in his infancy, and\nbrought up by Saracens in the false faith, now by a kind Providence\nconverted, and restored to fill the place his father once held among\nthe foremost champions of the throne and Church.\n\nRogero had alighted from his horse, and stood respectfully before the\nEmperor. Charlemagne bade him remount and ride beside him; and omitted\nnothing which might do him honor in sight of his martial train. With\npomp triumphal and with festive cheer the troop returned to the city;\nthe streets were decorated with garlands, the houses hung with rich\ntapestry, and flowers fell like rain upon the conquering host from the\nhands of fair dames and damsels, from every balcony and window. So\nwelcomed, the mighty Emperor passed on till he reached the royal\npalace, where many days he feasted, high in hall, with his lords, amid\ntourney, revel, dance, and song.\n\nWhen Rinaldo told his father, Duke Aymon, how he had promised his\nsister to Rogero, his father heard him with indignation, having set his\nheart on seeing her united to the Grecian Emperor's son. The Lady\nBeatrice, her mother, also appealed to Bradamante herself to reject a\nknight who had neither title nor lands, and give the preference to one\nwho would make her Empress of the wide Levant. But Bradamante, though\nrespect forbade her to refuse her mother's entreaty, would not promise\nto do what her heart repelled, and answered only with a sigh, until she\nwas alone, and then gave a loose to tears.\n\nMeanwhile Rogero, indignant that a stranger should presume to rob him\nof his bride, determined to seek the Prince of Greece, and defy him to\nmortal combat. With this design he donned his armor, but exchanged his\ncrest and emblazonment, and bore instead a white unicorn upon a crimson\nfield. He chose a trusty squire, and, commanding him not to address him\nas Rogero, rode on his quest. Having crossed the Rhine and the Austrian\ncountries into Hungary, he followed the course of the Danube till he\nreached Belgrade. There he saw the imperial ensigns spread, and white\npavilions, thronged with troops, before the town. For the Emperor\nConstantine was laying siege to the city to recover it from the\nBulgarians, who had taken it from him not long before.\n\nA river flowed between the camp of the Emperor and the Bulgarians, and\nat the moment when Rogero approached, a skirmish had begun between the\nparties from either camp, who had approached the stream for the purpose\nof watering. The Greeks in that affray were four to one, and drove back\nthe Bulgarians in precipitate rout. Rogero, seeing this, and animated\nonly by his hatred of the Grecian prince, dashed into the middle of the\nflying mass, calling aloud on the fugitives to turn. He encountered\nfirst a leader of the Grecian host in splendid armor, a nephew of the\nEmperor, as dear to him as a son. Rogero's lance pierced shield and\narmor, and stretched the warrior breathless on the plain. Another and\nanother fell before him, and astonishment and terror arrested the\nadvance of the Greeks, while the Bulgarians, catching courage from the\ncavalier, rally, change front, and chase the Grecian troops, who fly in\ntheir turn. Leo, the prince, was at a distance when this sudden\nskirmish rose, but not so far but that he could see distinctly, from an\nelevated position which he held, how the changed battle was all the\nwork of one man, and could not choose but admire the bravery and\nprowess with which it was done. He knew by the blazonry displayed that\nthe champion was not of the Bulgarian army, though he furnished aid to\nthem. Although he suffered by his valor, the prince could not wish him\nill, for his admiration surpassed his resentment. By this time the\nGreeks had regained the river, and crossing it by fording or swimming,\nsome made their escape, leaving many more prisoners in the hands of the\nBulgarians. Rogero, learning from some of the captives that Leo was at\na point some distance down the river, rode thither with a view to meet\nhim, but arrived not before the Greek prince had retired beyond the\nstream, and broken up the bridge. Day was spent, and Rogero, wearied,\nlooked round for a shelter for the night. He found it in a cottage,\nwhere he soon yielded himself to repose. It so happened, a knight who\nhad narrowly escaped Rogero's sword in the late battle also found\nshelter in the same cottage, and, recognizing the armor of the unknown\nknight, easily found means of securing him as he slept, and next\nmorning carried him in chains and delivered him to the Emperor. By him\nhe was in turn delivered to his sister Theodora, mother of the young\nknight, the first victim of Rogero's spear. By her he was cast into a\ndungeon, till her ingenuity could devise a death sufficiently painful\nto satiate her revenge.\n\nBradamante, meanwhile, to escape her father's and mother's importunity,\nhad begged a boon of Charlemagne, which the monarch pledged his royal\nword to grant; it was that she should not be compelled to marry any one\nunless he should first vanquish her in single combat. The Emperor\ntherefore proclaimed a tournament in these words: \"He that would wed\nDuke Aymon's daughter must contend with the sword against that dame,\nfrom the sun's rise to his setting; and if, in that time, he is not\novercome the lady shall be his.\"\n\nDuke Aymon and the Lady Beatrice, though much incensed at the course\nthings had taken, brought their daughter to court, to await the day\nappointed for the tournament. Bradamante, not finding there him whom\nher heart required, distressed herself with doubts what could be the\ncause of his absence. Of all fancies, the most painful one was that he\nhad gone away to learn to forget her, knowing her father's and her\nmother's opposition to their union, and despairing to contend against\nthem. But oh, how much worse would be the maiden's woe, if it were\nknown to her what her betrothed was then enduring!\n\nHe was plunged in a dungeon where no ray of daylight ever penetrated,\nloaded with chains, and scantily supplied with the coarsest food. No\nwonder despair took possession of his heart, and he longed for death as\na relief, when one night (or one day, for both were equally dark to\nhim) he was roused with the glare of a torch and saw two men enter his\ncell. It was the Prince Leo, with an attendant, who had come as soon as\nhe had learned the wretched fate of the brave knight whose valor he had\nseen and admired on the field of battle. \"Cavalier,\" said he, \"I am one\nwhom thy valor hath so bound to thee, that I willingly peril my own\nsafety to lend thee aid.\" \"Infinite thanks I owe you,\" replied Rogero,\n\"and the life you give me I promise faithfully to render back upon your\ncall, and promptly to stake it at all times for your service.\" The\nprince then told Rogero his name and rank, at hearing which a tide of\ncontending emotions almost overwhelmed Rogero. He was set at liberty,\nand had his horse and arms restored to him.\n\nMeanwhile, tidings arrived of King Charles' decree that whoever aspired\nto the hand of Bradamante must first encounter her with sword and\nlance. This news made the Grecian prince turn pale, for he knew he was\nno match for her in fight. Communing with himself, he sees how he may\nmake his wit supply the place of valor, and employ the French knight,\nwhose name was still unknown to him, to fight the battle for him.\nRogero heard the proposal with extreme distress; yet it seemed worse\nthan death to deny the first request of one to whom he owed his life.\nHastily he gave his assent \"to do in all things that which Leo should\ncommand.\" Afterward, bitter repentance came over him; yet, rather than\nconfess his change of mind, death itself would be welcome. Death seems\nhis only remedy; but how to die? Sometimes he thinks to make none but a\nfeigned resistance, and allow her sword a ready access, for never can\ndeath come more happily than if her hand guide the weapon. Yet this\nwill not avail, for, unless he wins the maid for the Greek prince, his\ndebt remains unpaid. He had promised to maintain a real, not a feigned\nencounter. He will then keep his word, and banish every thought from\nhis bosom except that which moved him to maintain his truth.\n\nThe young prince, richly attended, set out, and with him Rogero. They\narrived at Paris, but Leo preferred not to enter the city, and pitched\nhis tents without the walls, making known his arrival to Charlemagne by\nan embassy. The monarch was pleased, and testified his courtesy by\nvisits and gifts. The prince set forth the purpose of his coming, and\nprayed the Emperor to dispatch his suit--\"to send forth the damsel who\nrefused ever to take in wedlock any lord inferior to herself in fight;\nfor she should be his bride, or he would perish beneath her sword.\"\n\nRogero passed the night before the day assigned for the battle like\nthat which the felon spends, condemned to pay the forfeit of his life\non the ensuing day. He chose to fight with sword only, and on foot, for\nhe would not let her see Frontino, knowing that she would recognize the\nsteed. Nor would he use Balisarda, for against that enchanted blade all\narmor would be of no avail, and the sword that he did take he hammered\nwell upon the edge to abate its sharpness. He wore the surcoat of\nPrince Leo, and his shield, emblazoned with a golden, double-headed\neagle. The prince took care to let himself be seen by none.\n\nBradamante, meanwhile, prepared herself for the combat far differently.\nInstead of blunting the edge of her falchion she whets the steel, and\nwould fain infuse into it her own acerbity. As the moment approached\nshe seemed to have fire within her veins, and waited impatiently for\nthe trumpet's sound. At the signal she drew her sword, and fell with\nfury upon her Rogero. But as a well-built wall or aged rock stands\nunmoved the fury of the storm, so Rogero, clad in those arms which\nTrojan Hector once wore, withstood the strokes which stormed about his\nhead and breast and flank. Sparks flew from his shield, his helm, his\ncuirass; from direct and back strokes, aimed now high, now low, falling\nthick and fast, like hailstones on a cottage roof; but Rogero, with\nskilful ward, turns them aside, or receives them where his armor is a\nsure protection, careful only to protect himself, and with no thought\nof striking in return. Thus the hours passed away, and, as the sun\napproached the west, the damsel began to despair. But so much the more\nher anger increases, and she redoubles her efforts, like the craftsman\nwho sees his work unfinished while the day is wellnigh spent. O\nmiserable damsel! didst thou know whom thou wouldst kill,--if, in that\ncavalier matched against thee thou didst but know Rogero, on whom thy\nvery life-threads hang, rather than kill him thou wouldst kill thyself,\nfor he is dearer to thee than life.\n\nKing Charles and the peers, who thought the cavalier to be the Grecian\nprince, viewing such force and skill exhibited, and how without\nassaulting her the knight defended himself, were filled with\nadmiration, and declared the champions well matched, and worthy of each\nother.\n\nWhen the sun was set Charlemagne gave the signal for terminating the\ncontest, and Bradamante was awarded to Prince Leo as a bride. Rogero,\nin deep distress, returned to his tent. There Leo unlaced his helmet,\nand kissed him on both cheeks. \"Henceforth,\" said he, \"do with me as\nyou please, for you cannot exhaust my gratitude.\" Rogero replied\nlittle, laid aside the ensigns he had worn, and resumed the unicorn,\nthen hasted to withdraw himself from all eyes. When it was midnight he\nrose, saddled Frontino, and sallied from his tent, taking that\ndirection which pleased his steed. All night he rode absorbed in bitter\nwoe, and called on Death as alone capable of relieving his sufferings.\nAt last he entered a forest, and penetrated into its deepest recesses.\nThere he unharnessed Frontino, and suffered him to wander where he\nwould. Then he threw himself down on the ground, and poured forth such\nbitter wailings that the birds and beasts, for none else heard him,\nwere moved to pity with his cries.\n\nNot less was the distress of the lady Bradamante, who, rather than wed\nany one but Rogero, resolved to break her word, and defy kindred,\ncourt, and Charlemagne himself; and, if nothing else would do, to die.\nBut relief came from an unexpected quarter. Marphisa, sister of Rogero,\nwas a heroine of warlike prowess equal to Bradamante. She had been the\nconfidante of their loves, and felt hardly less distress than\nthemselves at seeing the perils which threatened their union. \"They are\nalready united by mutual vows,\" she said, \"and in the sight of Heaven\nwhat more is necessary?\" Full of this thought she presented herself\nbefore Charlemagne, and declared that she herself was witness that the\nmaiden had spoken to Rogero those words which they who marry swear; and\nthat the compact was so sealed between the pair that they were no\nlonger free, nor could forsake the one the other to take another\nspouse. This her assertion she offered to prove, in single combat,\nagainst Prince Leo, or any one else.\n\nCharlemagne, sadly perplexed at this, commanded Bradamante to be\ncalled, and told her what the bold Marphisa had declared. Bradamante\nneither denied nor confirmed the statement, but hung her head, and kept\nsilence. Duke Aymon was enraged, and would fain have set aside the\npretended contract on the ground that, if made at all, it must have\nbeen made before Rogero was baptized, and therefore void. But not so\nthought Rinaldo, nor the good Orlando, and Charlemagne knew not which\nway to decide, when Marphisa spoke thus:\n\n\"Since no one else can marry the maiden while my brother lives, let the\nprince meet Rogero in mortal combat, and let him who survives take her\nfor his bride.\"\n\nThis saying pleased the Emperor, and was accepted by the prince, for he\nthought that, by the aid of his unknown champion, he should surely\ntriumph in the fight. Proclamation was therefore made for Rogero to\nappear and defend his suit; and Leo, on his part, caused search to be\nmade on all sides for the knight of the Unicorn.\n\nMeanwhile Rogero, overwhelmed with despair, lay stretched on the ground\nin the forest night and day without food, courting death. Here he was\ndiscovered by one of Leo's people, who, finding him resist all attempts\nto remove him, hastened to his master, who was not far off, and brought\nhim to the spot. As he approached he heard words which convinced him\nthat love was the cause of the knight's despair; but no clew was given\nto guide him to the object of that love. Stooping down, the prince\nembraced the weeping warrior, and, in the tenderest accents, said:\n\"Spare not, I entreat you, to disclose the cause of your distress, for\nfew such desperate evils betide mankind as are wholly past cure. It\ngrieves me much that you would hide your grief from me, for I am bound\nto you by ties that nothing can undo. Tell me, then, your grief, and\nleave me to try if wealth, art, cunning, force, or persuasion cannot\nrelieve you. If not, it will be time enough after all has been tried in\nvain to die.\"\n\nHe spoke in such moving accents that Rogero could not choose but yield.\nIt was some time before he could command utterance; at last he said,\n\"My lord, when you shall know me for what I am, I doubt not you, like\nmyself, will be content that I should die. Know, then, I am that Rogero\nwhom you have so much cause to hate, and who so hated you that, intent\non putting you to death, he went to seek you at your father's court.\nThis I did because I could not submit to see my promised bride borne\noff by you. But, as man proposes and God disposes, your great courtesy,\nwell tried in time of sore need, so moved my fixed resolve, that I not\nonly laid aside the hate I bore, but purposed to be your friend\nforever. You then asked of me to win for you the lady Bradamante, which\nwas all one as to demand of me my heart and soul. You know whether I\nserved you faithfully or not. Yours is the lady; possess her in peace;\nbut ask me not to live to see it. Be content rather that I die; for\nvows have passed between myself and her which forbid that while I live\nshe can lawfully wive with another.\"\n\nSo filled was gentle Leo with astonishment at these words that for a\nwhile he stood silent, with lips unmoved and steadfast gaze, like a\nstatue. And the discovery that the stranger was Rogero not only abated\nnot the good will he bore him, but increased it, so that his distress\nfor what Rogero suffered seemed equal to his own. For this, and because\nhe would appear deservedly an Emperor's son, and, though in other\nthings outdone, would not be surpassed in courtesy, he says: \"Rogero,\nhad I known that day when your matchless valor routed my troops that\nyou were Rogero, your virtue would have made me your own, as then it\nmade me while I knew not my foe, and I should have no less gladly\nrescued you from Theodora's dungeon. And if I would willingly have done\nso then, how much more gladly will I now restore the gift of which you\nwould rob yourself to confer it upon me. The damsel is more due to you\nthan to me, and though I know her worth, I would forego not only her,\nbut life itself, rather than distress a knight like you.\"\n\nThis and much more he said to the same intent; till at last Rogero\nreplied, \"I yield, and am content to live, and thus a second time owe\nmy life to you.\"\n\nBut several days elapsed before Rogero was so far restored as to return\nto the royal residence, where an embassy had arrived from the Bulgarian\nprinces to seek the knight of the unicorn, and tender to him the crown\nof that country, in place of their king, fallen in battle.\n\nThus were things situated when Prince Leo, leading by the hand Rogero,\nclad in the battered armor in which he had sustained the conflict with\nBradamante, presented himself before the king. \"Behold,\" he said \"the\nchampion who maintained from dawn to setting sun the arduous contest;\nhe comes to claim the guerdon of the fight.\" King Charlemagne, with all\nhis peerage, stood amazed; for all believed that the Grecian prince\nhimself had fought with Bradamante. Then stepped forth Marphisa, and\nsaid, \"Since Rogero is not here to assert his rights, I, his sister,\nundertake his cause, and will maintain it against whoever shall dare\ndispute his claim.\" She said this with so much anger and disdain that\nthe prince deemed it no longer wise to feign, and withdrew Rogero's\nhelmet from his brow, saying, \"Behold him here!\" Who can describe the\nastonishment and joy of Marphisa! She ran and threw her arms about her\nbrother's neck, nor would give way to let Charlemagne and Rinaldo,\nOrlando, Dudon, and the rest, who crowded round, embrace him, and press\nfriendly kisses on his brow. The joyful tidings flew fast by many a\nmessenger to Bradamante, who in her secret chamber lay lamenting. The\nblood that stagnated about her heart flowed at that notice so fast,\nthat she had wellnigh died for joy. Duke Aymon and the Lady Beatrice no\nlonger withheld their consent, and pledged their daughter to the brave\nRogero before all that gallant company.\n\nNow came the Bulgarian ambassadors, and, kneeling at the feet of\nRogero, besought him to return with them to their country, where, in\nAdrianople, the crown and sceptre were awaiting his acceptance. Prince\nLeo united his persuasions to theirs, and promised, in his royal\nfather's name, that peace should be restored on their part. Rogero gave\nhis consent, and it was surmised that none of the virtues which shone\nso conspicuously in him so availed to recommend Rogero to the Lady\nBeatrice as the hearing her future son-in-law saluted as a sovereign\nprince.\n\n\n\nTHE BATTLE OF RONCESVALLES\n\nAfter the expulsion of the Saracens from France Charlemagne led his\narmy into Spain, to punish Marsilius, the king of that country, for\nhaving sided with the African Saracens in the late war. Charlemagne\nsucceeded in all his attempts, and compelled Marsilius to submit, and\npay tribute to France. Our readers will remember Gano, otherwise called\nGan, or Ganelon, whom we mentioned in one of our early chapters as an\nold courtier of Charlemagne, and a deadly enemy of Orlando, Rinaldo,\nand all their friends. He had great influence over Charles, from\nequality of age and long intimacy; and he was not without good\nqualities: he was brave and sagacious, but envious, false, and\ntreacherous. Gan prevailed on Charles to send him as ambassador to\nMarsilius, to arrange the tribute. He embraced Orlando over and over\nagain at taking leave, using such pains to seem loving and sincere,\nthat his hypocrisy was manifest to every one but the old monarch. He\nfastened with equal tenderness on Oliver, who smiled contemptuously in\nhis face, and thought to himself, \"You may make as many fair speeches\nas you choose, but you lie.\" All the other paladins who were present\nthought the same, and they said as much to the Emperor, adding that Gan\nshould on no account be sent ambassador to the Spaniards. But Charles\nwas infatuated.\n\nGan was received with great honor by Marsilius. The king, attended by\nhis lords, came fifteen miles out of Saragossa to meet him, and then\nconducted him into the city with acclamations. There was nothing for\nseveral days but balls, games, and exhibitions of chivalry, the ladies\nthrowing flowers on the heads of the French knights, and the people\nshouting, \"France! Mountjoy and St. Denis!\"\n\nAfter the ceremonies of the first reception the king and the ambassador\nbegan to understand one another. One day they sat together in a garden\non the border of a fountain. The water was so clear and smooth it\nreflected every object around, and the spot was encircled with\nfruit-trees which quivered with the fresh air. As they sat and talked,\nas if without restraint, Gan, without looking the king in the face, was\nenabled to see the expression of his countenance in the water, and\ngoverned his speech accordingly. Marsilius was equally adroit, and\nwatched the face of Gan while he addressed him. Marsilius began by\nlamenting, not as to the ambassador, but as to the friend, the injuries\nwhich Charles had done him by invading his dominions, charging him with\nwishing to take his kingdom from him and give it to Orlando; till at\nlength he plainly uttered his belief that if that ambitious paladin\nwere but dead good men would get their rights.\n\nGan heaved a sigh, as if he was unwillingly compelled to allow the\nforce of what the king said; but unable to contain himself long he\nlifted up his face, radiant with triumphant wickedness, and exclaimed:\n\"Every word you utter is truth; die he must, and die also must Oliver,\nwho struck me that foul blow at court. Is it treachery to punish\naffronts like these? I have planned everything,--I have settled\neverything already with their besotted master. Orlando will come to\nyour borders--to Roncesvalles--for the purpose of receiving the\ntribute. Charles will await him at the foot of the mountains. Orlando\nwill bring but a small band with him: you, when you meet him, will have\nsecretly your whole army at your back. You surround him, and who\nreceives tribute then?\"\n\nThe new Judas had scarcely uttered these words when his exultation was\ninterrupted by a change in the face of nature. The sky was suddenly\novercast, there was thunder and lightning, a laurel was split in two\nfrom head to foot, and the Carob-tree under which Gan was sitting,\nwhich is said to be the species of tree on which Judas Iscariot hung\nhimself, dropped one of its pods on his head.\n\nMarsilius, as well as Gan, was appalled at this omen; but on assembling\nhis soothsayers they came to the conclusion that the laurel-tree turned\nthe omen against the Emperor, the successor of the Caesars, though one\nof them renewed the consternation of Gan by saying that he did not\nunderstand the meaning of the tree of Judas, and intimating that\nperhaps the ambassador could explain it. Gan relieved his vexation by\nanger; the habit of wickedness prevailed over all other considerations;\nand the king prepared to march to Roncesvalles at the head of all his\nforces.\n\nGan wrote to Charlemagne to say how humbly and submissively Marsilius\nwas coming to pay the tribute into the hands of Orlando, and how\nhandsome it would be of the Emperor to meet him half-way, and so be\nready to receive him after the payment at his camp. He added a\nbrilliant account of the tribute, and the accompanying presents. The\ngood Emperor wrote in turn to say how pleased he was with the\nambassador's diligence, and that matters were arranged precisely as he\nwished. His court, however, had its suspicion still, though they little\nthought Gan's object in bringing Charles into the neighborhood of\nRoncesvalles was to deliver him into the hands of Marsilius, after\nOrlando should have been destroyed by him.\n\nOrlando, however, did as his lord and sovereign desired. He went to\nRoncesvalles, accompanied by a moderate train of warriors, not dreaming\nof the atrocity that awaited him. Gan, meanwhile, had hastened back to\nFrance, in order to show himself free and easy in the presence of\nCharles, and secure the success of his plot; while Marsilius, to make\nassurance doubly sure, brought into the passes of Roncesvalles no less\nthan three armies, which were successively to fall on the paladin in\ncase of the worst, and so extinguish him with numbers. He had also, by\nGan's advice, brought heaps of wine and good cheer to be set before his\nvictims in the first instance; \"for that,\" said the traitor, \"will\nrender the onset the more effective, the feasters being unarmed. One\nthing, however, I must not forget,\" added he; \"my son Baldwin is sure\nto be with Orlando; you must take care of his life for my sake.\"\n\n\"I give him this vesture off my own body,\" said the king; \"let him wear\nit in the battle, and have no fear. My soldiers shall be directed not\nto touch him.\"\n\nGan went away rejoicing to France. He embraced the sovereign and the\ncourt all round with the air of a man who had brought them nothing but\nblessings, and the old king wept for very tenderness and delight.\n\n\"Something is going on wrong, and looks very black,\" thought Malagigi,\nthe good wizard; \"Rinaldo is not here, and it is indispensably\nnecessary that he should be. I must find out where he is, and\nRicciardetto too, and send for them with all speed.\"\n\nMalagigi called up by his art a wise, terrible, and cruel spirit, named\nAshtaroth. \"Tell me, and tell me truly, of Rinaldo,\" said Malagigi to\nthe spirit. The demon looked hard at the paladin, and said nothing. His\naspect was clouded and violent.\n\nThe enchanter, with an aspect still cloudier, bade Ashtaroth lay down\nthat look, and made signs as if he would resort to angrier compulsion;\nand the devil, alarmed, loosened his tongue, and said, \"You have not\ntold me what you desire to know of Rinaldo.\"\n\n\"I desire to know what he has been doing, and where he is.\"\n\n\"He has been conquering and baptizing the world, east and west,\" said\nthe demon, \"and is now in Egypt with Ricciardetto.\"\n\n\"And what has Gan been plotting with Marsilius?\" inquired Malagigi;\n\"and what is to come of it?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said the devil. \"I was not attending to Gan at the time,\nand we fallen spirits know not the future. All I discern is that by the\nsigns and comets in the heavens something dreadful is about to\nhappen--something very strange, treacherous, and bloody; and that Gan\nhas a seat ready prepared for him in hell.\"\n\n\"Within three days,\" cried the enchanter, loudly, \"bring Rinaldo and\nRicciardetto into the pass of Ronces-Valles. Do it, and I hereby\nundertake to summon thee no more.\"\n\n\"Suppose they will not trust themselves with me?\" said the spirit.\n\n\"Enter Rinaldo's horse, and bring him, whether he trust thee or not.\"\n\n\"It shall be done,\" returned the demon.\n\nThere was an earthquake, and Ashtaroth disappeared.\n\nMarsilius now made his first movement towards the destruction of\nOrlando, by sending before him his vassal, King Blanchardin, with his\npresents of wines and other luxuries. The temperate but courteous hero\ntook them in good part, and distributed them as the traitor wished; and\nthen Blanchardin, on pretence of going forward to salute Charlemagne,\nreturned, and put himself at the head of the second army, which was the\npost assigned him by his liege-lord. King Falseron, whose son Orlando\nhad slain in battle, headed the first army, and King Balugante the\nthird. Marsilius made a speech to them, in which he let them into his\ndesign, and concluded by recommending to their good will the son of his\nfriend Gan, whom they would know by the vest he had sent him, and who\nwas the only soul amongst the Christian they were to spare.\n\nThis son of Gan, meanwhile, and several of the paladins, who distrusted\nthe misbelievers, and were anxious at all events to be with Orlando,\nhad joined the hero in the fatal valley; so that the little Christian\nhost, considering the tremendous valor of their lord and his friends,\nwere not to be sold for nothing. Rinaldo, alas! the second thunderbolt\nof Christendom, was destined not to be there in time to meet the issue.\nThe paladins in vain begged Orlando to be on his guard against\ntreachery, and send for a more numerous body of men. The great heart of\nthe Champion of the Faith was unwilling to harbor suspicion as long as\nhe could help it. He refused to summon aid which might be superfluous;\nneither would he do anything but what his liege-lord had directed. And\nyet he could not wholly repress a misgiving. A shadow had fallen on his\nheart, great and cheerful as it was. The anticipations of his friends\ndisturbed him, in spite of the face with which he met them. Perhaps by\na certain foresight he felt his death approaching; but he felt bound\nnot to encourage the impression. Besides, time pressed; the moment of\nthe looked-for tribute was at hand, and little combinations of\ncircumstances determine often the greatest events.\n\nKing Marsilius was to arrive early next day with the tribute, and\nOliver, with the morning sun, rode forth to reconnoitre, and see if he\ncould discover the peaceful pomp of the Spanish court in the distance.\nHe rode up the nearest height, and from the top of it beheld the first\narmy of Marsilius already forming in the passes. \"O devil Gan,\" he\nexclaimed, \"this then is the consummation of thy labors!\" Oliver put\nspurs to his horse, and galloped back down the mountain to Orlando.\n\n\"Well,\" cried the hero, \"what news?\"\n\n\"Bad news,\" said his cousin, \"such as you would not hear of yesterday.\nMarsilius is here in arms, and all the world is with him.\"\n\nThe paladins pressed round Orlando, and entreated him to sound his\nhorn, in token that he needed help. His only answer was to mount his\nhorse, and ride up the mountain with Sansonetto.\n\nAs soon, however, as he cast forth his eyes, and beheld what was round\nabout him, he turned in sorrow, and looked down into Roncesvalles, and\nsaid, \"O miserable valley! the blood shed in thee this day will color\nthy name forever.\"\n\nOrlando's little camp were furious against the Saracens. They armed\nthemselves with the greatest impatience. There was nothing but lacing\nof helmets and mounting of horses, while good Archbishop Turpin went\nfrom rank to rank exhorting and encouraging the warriors of Christ.\nOrlando and his captains withdrew for a moment to consultation. He\nfairly groaned for sorrow, and at first had not a word to say, so\nwretched he felt at having brought his people to die in Roncesvalles.\nThen he said: \"If it had entered into my heart to conceive the king of\nSpain to be such a villain never would you have seen this day. He has\nexchanged with me a thousand courtesies and good words; and I thought\nthat the worse enemies we had been before, the better friends we had\nbecome now. I fancied every human being capable of this kind of virtue\non a good opportunity, saving, indeed, such base-hearted wretches as\ncan never forgive their very forgivers; and of these I did not suppose\nhim to be one. Let us die, if die we must, like honest and gallant men,\nso that it shall be said of us it was only our bodies that died. The\nreason why I did not sound the horn was partly because I thought it did\nnot become us, and partly because our liege lord could hardly save us,\neven if he heard it.\" And with these words Orlando sprang to his horse,\ncrying, \"Aways against the Saracens!\" But he had no sooner turned his\nface than he wept bitterly, and said, \"O Holy Virgin, think not of me,\nthe sinner Orlando, but have pity on these thy servants!\"\n\nAnd now with a mighty dust, and an infinite sound of horns and\ntambours, which came filling the valley, the first army of the infidels\nmade its appearance, horses neighing, and a thousand pennons flying in\nthe air. King Falseron led them on, saying to his officers: \"Let nobody\ndare to lay a finger on Orlando. He belongs to myself. The revenge of\nmy son's death is mine. I will cut the man down that comes between us.\"\n\"Now, friends,\" said Orlando, \"every man for himself, and St. Michael\nfor us all! There is not one here that is not a perfect knight.\" And he\nmight well say it, for the flower of all France was there, except\nRinaldo and Ricciardetto--every man a picked man, all friends and\nconstant companions of Orlando.\n\nSo the captains of the little troop and of the great army sat looking\nat one another, and singling one another out as the latter came on, and\nthen the knights put spear in rest, and ran for a while two and two in\nsuccession, one against the other.\n\nAstolpho was the first to move. He ran against Arlotto of Sorio, and\nthrust his antagonist's body out of the saddle, and his soul into the\nother world. Oliver encountered Malprimo, and, though he received a\nthrust which hurt him, sent his lance right through the heart of\nMalprimo.\n\nFalseron was daunted at this blow. \"Truly,\" thought he, \"this is a\nmarvel.\" Oliver did not press on among the Saracens, his wound was too\npainful; but Orlando now put himself and his whole band in motion, and\nyou may guess what an uproar ensued. The sound of the rattling of blows\nand helmets was as if the forge of Vulcan had been thrown open.\nFalseron beheld Orlando coming so furiously, that he thought him a\nLucifer who had burst his chain, and was quite of another mind than\nwhen he purposed to have him all to himself. On the contrary, he\nrecommended himself to his gods, and turned away, meaning to wait for a\nmore auspicious season of revenge. But Orlando hailed him with a\nterrible voice, saying, \"O thou traitor! was this the end to which old\nquarrels were made up?\" Then he dashed at Falseron with a fury so\nswift, and at the same time with a mastery of his lance so marvellous,\nthat, though he plunged it in the man's body so as instantly to kill\nhim, and then withdrew it, the body did not move in the saddle. The\nhero himself, as he rushed onwards, was fain to see the end of a stroke\nso perfect, and turning his horse back, touched the carcass with his\nsword, and it fell on the instant!\n\nWhen the infidels beheld their leader dead such fear fell upon them\nthat they were for leaving the field to the paladins, but they were\nunable. Marsilius had drawn the rest of his forces round the valley\nlike a net, so that their shoulders were turned in vain. Orlando rode\ninto the thick of them, and wherever he went thunderbolts fell upon\nhelmets. Oliver was again in the fray, with Walter and Baldwin, Avino\nand Avolio, while Arch-bishop Turpin had changed his crosier for a\nlance, and chased a new flock before him to the mountains.\n\nYet what could be done against foes without number? Marsilius\nconstantly pours them in. The paladins are as units to thousands. Why\ntarry the horses of Rinaldo and Ricciardetto?\n\nThe horses did not tarry, but fate had been quicker than enchantment.\nAshtaroth had presented himself to Rinaldo in Egypt, and, after telling\nhis errand, he and Foul-mouth, his servant, entered the horses of\nRinaldo and Ricciardetto, which began to neigh, and snort, and leap\nwith the fiends within them, till off they flew through the air over\nthe pyramids and across the desert, and reached Spain and the scene of\naction just as Marsilius brought up his third army. The two paladins on\ntheir horses dropped right into the midst of the Saracens, and began\nmaking such havoc among them that Marsilius, who overlooked the fight\nfrom a mountain, thought his soldiers had turned against one another.\nOrlando beheld it, and guessed it could be no other but his cousins,\nand pressed to meet them. Oliver coming up at the same moment, the\nrapture of the whole party is not to be expressed. After a few hasty\nwords of explanation they were forced to turn again upon the enemy,\nwhose numbers seemed perfectly without limit.\n\nOrlando, making a bloody passage towards Marsilius, struck a youth on\nthe head, whose helmet was so strong as to resist the blow, but at the\nsame time flew off, Orlando prepared to strike a second blow, when the\nyouth exclaimed, \"Hold! you loved my father; I am Bujaforte!\" The\npaladin had never seen Bujaforte, but he saw the likeness to the good\nold man, his father, and he dropped his sword. \"O Bujaforte,\" said he,\n\"I loved him indeed; but what does his son do here fighting against his\nfriends?\"\n\nBujaforte could not at once speak for weeping. At length he said: \"I am\nforced to be here by my lord and master, Marsilius; and I have made a\nshow of fighting, but have not hurt a single Christian. Treachery is on\nevery side of you. Baldwin himself has a vest given him by Marsilius,\nthat everybody may know the son of his friend Gan, and do him no harm.\"\n\n\"Put your helmet on again,\" said Orlando, \"and behave just as you have\ndone. Never will your father's friend be an enemy to the son.\"\n\nThe hero then turned in fury to look for Baldwin, who was hastening\ntowards him at that moment, with friendliness in his looks.\n\n\"'Tis strange,\" said Baldwin, \"I have done my duty as well as I could,\nyet nobody will come against me. I have slain right and left, and\ncannot comprehend what it is that makes the stoutest infidels avoid me.\"\n\n\"Take off your vest,\" said Orlando, contemptuously, \"and you will soon\ndiscover the secret, if you wish to know it. Your father has sold us to\nMarsilius, all but his honorable son.\"\n\n\"If my father,\" said Baldwin, impetuously tearing off the vest, \"has\nbeen such a villain, and I escape dying, I will plunge this sword\nthrough his heart. But I am no traitor, Orlando, and you do me wrong to\nsay it. Think not I can live with dishonor.\"\n\nBaldwin spurred off into the fight, not waiting to hear another word\nfrom Orlando, who was very sorry for what he had said, for he perceived\nthat the youth was in despair.\n\nAnd now the fight raged beyond all it had done before; twenty pagans\nwent down for one paladin, but still the paladins fell. Sansonetto was\nbeaten to earth by the club of Grandonio, Walter d'Amulion had his\nshoulder broken, Berlinghieri and Ottone were slain, and at last\nAstolpho fell, in revenge of whose death Orlando turned the spot where\nhe died into a lake of Saracen blood. The luckless Bujaforte met\nRinaldo, and before he could explain how he seemed to be fighting on\nthe Saracen side received such a blow upon the head that he fell,\nunable to utter a word. Orlando, cutting his way to a spot where there\nwas a great struggle and uproar, found the poor youth Baldwin, the son\nof Gan, with two spears in his breast. \"I am no traitor now,\" said\nBaldwin, and those were the last words he said. Orlando was bitterly\nsorry to have been the cause of his death, and tears streamed from his\neyes. At length down went Oliver himself. He had become blinded with\nhis own blood, and smitten Orlando without knowing him. \"How now,\ncousin,\" cried Orlando, \"have you too gone over to the enemy?\" \"O my\nlord and master,\" cried the other, \"I ask your pardon. I can see\nnothing; I am dying. Some traitor has stabbed me in the back. If you\nlove me, lead my horse into the thick of them, so that I may not die\nunavenged.\"\n\n\"I shall die myself before long,\" said Orlando, \"out of very toil and\ngrief; so we will go together.\"\n\nOrlando led his cousin's horse where the press was thickest, and\ndreadful was the strength of the dying man and his tired companion.\nThey made a street through which they passed out of the battle, and\nOrlando led his cousin away to his tent, and said, \"Wait a little till\nI return, for I will go and sound the horn on the hill yonder.\"\n\n\"'Tis of no use,\" said Oliver, \"my spirit is fast going and desires to\nbe with its Lord and Saviour.\"\n\nHe would have said more, but his words came from him imperfectly, like\nthose of a man in a dream, and so he expired.\n\nWhen Orlando saw him dead he felt as if he was alone on the earth, and\nhe was quite willing to leave it, only he wished that King Charles, at\nthe foot of the mountains, should know how the case stood before he\nwent. So he took up the horn and blew it three times, with such force\nthat the blood burst out of his nose and mouth. Turpin says that at the\nthird blast the horn broke in two.\n\nIn spite of all the noise of the battle, the sound of the horn broke\nover it like a voice out of the other world. They say that birds fell\ndead at it, and that the whole Saracen army drew back in terror.\nCharlemagne was sitting in the midst of his court when the sound\nreached him, and Gan was there. The Emperor was the first to hear it.\n\n\"Do you hear that?\" said he to his nobles. \"Did you hear the horn as I\nheard it?\"\n\nUpon this they all listened, and Gan felt his heart misgive him. The\nhorn sounded a second time.\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" said Charles.\n\n\"Orlando is hunting,\" observed Gan, \"and the stag is killed.\"\n\nBut when the horn sounded yet a third time, and the blast was one of so\ndreadful a vehemence, everybody looked at the other, and then they all\nlooked at Gan in a fury. Charles rose from his seat.\n\n\"This is no hunting of the stag,\" said he. \"The sound goes to my very\nheart. O Gan! O Gan! Not for thee do I blush, but for myself. O foul\nand monstrous villain! Take him, gentleman, and keep him in close\nprison. Would to God I had not lived to see this day!\"\n\nBut it was no time for words. They put the traitor in prison and then\nCharles, with all his court, took his way to Roncesvalles, grieving and\npraying.\n\nIt was afternoon when the horn sounded, and half an hour after it when\nthe Emperor set out; and meantime Orlando had returned to the fight\nthat he might do his duty, however hopeless, as long as he could sit\nhis horse. At length he found his end approaching, for toil and fever,\nand rode all alone to a fountain where he had before quenched his\nthirst. His horse was wearier than he, and no sooner had his master\nalighted than the beast, kneeling down as if to take leave, and to say,\n\"I have brought you to a place of rest,\" fell dead at his feet. Orlando\ncast water on him from the fountain, not wishing to believe him dead;\nbut when he found it to no purpose, he grieved for him as if he had\nbeen a human being, and addressed him by name with tears, and asked\nforgiveness if he had ever done him wrong. They say that the horse, at\nthese words, opened his eyes a little, and looked kindly at his master,\nand then stirred never more. They say also that Orlando then summoning\nall his strength, smote a rock near him with his beautiful sword\nDurindana, thinking to shiver the steel in pieces, and so prevent its\nfalling into the hands of the enemy, but though the rock split like a\nslate, and a great cleft remained ever after to astonish the eyes of\npilgrims, the sword remained uninjured.\n\nAnd now Rinaldo and Ricciardetto came up, with Turpin, having driven\nback the Saracens, and told Orlando that the battle was won. Then\nOrlando knelt before Turpin and begged remission of his sins, and\nTurpin gave him absolution. Orlando fixed his eyes on the hilt of his\nsword as on a crucifix, and embraced it, and he raised his eyes and\nappeared like a creature seraphical and transfigured, and bowing his\nhead, he breathed out his pure soul.\n\nAnd now King Charles and his nobles came up. The Emperor, at sight of\nthe dead Orlando, threw himself, as if he had been a reckless youth,\nfrom his horse, and embraced and kissed the body, and said: \"I bless\nthee, Orlando; I bless thy whole life, and all that thou wast, and all\nthat thou ever didst, and the father that begat thee; and I ask pardon\nof thee for believing those who brought thee to thine end. They shall\nhave their reward, O thou beloved one! But indeed it is thou that\nlivest, and I who am worse than dead.\"\n\nHorrible to the Emperor's eyes was the sight of the field of\nRoncesvalles. The Saracens indeed had fled, conquered; but all his\npaladins but two were left on it dead, and the whole valley looked like\na great slaughter-house, trampled into blood and dirt, and reeking to\nthe heat. Charles trembled to his heart's core for wonder and agony.\nAfter gazing dumbly on the place he cursed it with a solemn curse, and\nwished that never grass might grow in it again, nor seed of any kind,\nneither within it nor on any of its mountains around, but the anger of\nHeaven abide over it forever.\n\nCharles and his warriors went after the Saracens into Spain. They took\nand fired Saragossa, and Marsilius was hung to the carob-tree under\nwhich he had planned his villainy with Gan; and Gan was hung and drawn\nand quartered in Roncesvalles, amidst the execrations of the country.\n\n\n\nRINALDO AND BAYARD\n\nCHARLEMAGNE was overwhelmed with grief at the loss of so many of his\nbravest warriors at the disaster of Roncesvalles, and bitterly\nreproached himself for his credulity in resigning himself so completely\nto the counsels of the treacherous Count Gan. Yet he soon fell into a\nsimilar snare when he suffered his unworthy son, Charlot, to acquire\nsuch an influence over him, that he constantly led him into acts of\ncruelty and injustice that in his right mind he would have scorned to\ncommit. Rinaldo and his brothers, for some slight offence to the\nimperious young prince, were forced to fly from Paris, and to take\nshelter in their castle of Montalban; for Charles had publicly said, if\nhe could take them he would hang them all. He sent numbers of his\nbravest knights to arrest them, but all without success. Either Rinaldo\nfoiled their efforts and sent them back, stripped of their armor and of\ntheir glory, or, after meeting and conferring with him, they came back\nand told the king they could not be his instruments for such a work.\n\nAt last Charles himself raised a great army, and went in person to\ncompel the paladin to submit. He ravaged all the country round about\nMontalban, so that supplies of food should be cut off, and he\nthreatened death to any who should attempt to issue forth, hoping to\ncompel the garrison to submit for want of food.\n\nRinaldo's resources had been brought so low that it seemed useless to\ncontend any longer. His brothers had been taken prisoners in a\nskirmish, and his only hope of saving their lives was in making terms\nwith the king.\n\nSo he sent a messenger, offering to yield himself and his castle if the\nking would spare his and his brothers' lives. While the messenger was\ngone Rinaldo, impatient to learn what tidings he might bring, rode out\nto meet him. When he had ridden as far as he thought prudent he stopped\nin a wood, and alighting, tied Bayard to a tree. Then he sat down, and,\nas he waited, he fell asleep. Bayard meanwhile got loose, and strayed\naway where the grass tempted him. Just then came along some country\npeople, who said to one another, \"Look, is not that the great horse\nBayard that Rinaldo rides? Let us take him, and carry him to King\nCharles, who will pay us well for our trouble.\" They did so, and the\nking was delighted with his prize, and gave them a present that made\nthem rich to their dying day.\n\nWhen Rinaldo woke he looked round for his horse, and, finding him not,\nhe groaned, and said, \"O unlucky hour that I was born! how fortune\npersecutes me!\" So desperate was he that he took off his armor and his\nspurs, saying, \"What need have I of these, since Bayard is lost?\" While\nhe stood thus lamenting, a man came from the thicket, seemingly bent\nwith age. He had a long beard hanging over his breast, and eyebrows\nthat almost covered his eyes. He bade Rinaldo good day. Rinaldo thanked\nhim, and said, \"A good day I have hardly had since I was born.\" Then\nsaid the old man, \"Signor Rinaldo, you must not despair, for God will\nmake all things turn to the best.\" Rinaldo answered, \"My trouble is too\nheavy for me to hope relief. The king has taken my brothers, and means\nto put them to death. I thought to rescue them by means of my horse\nBayard, but while I slept some thief has stolen him.\" The old man\nreplied, \"I will remember you and your brothers in my prayers. I am a\npoor man, have you not something to give me?\" Rinaldo said, \"I have\nnothing to give,\" but then he recollected his spurs. He gave them to\nthe beggar, and said, \"Here, take my spurs. They are the first present\nmy mother gave me when my father, Count Aymon, dubbed me knight. They\nought to bring you ten pounds.\"\n\nThe old man took the spurs, and put them into his sack, and said,\n\"Noble sir, have you nothing else you can give me?\" Rinaldo replied,\n\"Are you making sport of me? I tell you truly if it were not for shame\nto beat one so helpless, I would teach you better manners.\" The old man\nsaid, \"Of a truth, sir, if you did so you would do a great sin. If all\nhad beaten me of whom I have begged I should have been killed long ago,\nfor I ask alms in churches and convents, and wherever I can.\" \"You say\ntrue,\" replied Rinaldo, \"if you did not ask, none would relieve you.\"\nThe old man said, \"True, noble sir, therefore I pray if you have\nanything more to spare, give it me.\" Rinaldo gave him his mantle, and\nsaid, \"Take it, pilgrim. I give it you for the love of Christ, that God\nwould save my brothers from a shameful death, and help me to escape out\nof King Charles's power.\"\n\nThe pilgrim took the mantle, folded it up, and put it into his bag.\nThen a third time he said to Rinaldo, \"Sir, have you nothing left to\ngive me that I may remember you in my prayers?\" \"Wretch!\" exclaimed\nRinaldo, \"do you make me your sport?\" and he drew his sword, and struck\nat him; but the old man warded off the blow with his staff, and said,\n\"Rinaldo, would you slay your cousin, Malagigi?\" When Rinaldo heard\nthat he stayed his hand, and gazed doubtingly on the old man, who now\nthrew aside his disguise, and appeared to be indeed Malagigi. \"Dear\ncousin,\" said Rinaldo, \"pray forgive me. I did not know you. Next to\nGod, my trust is in you. Help my brothers to escape out of prison, I\nentreat you. I have lost my horse, and therefore cannot render them any\nassistance.\" Malagigi answered, \"Cousin Rinaldo, I will enable you to\nrecover your horse. Meanwhile, you must do as I say.\"\n\nThen Malagigi took from his sack a gown, and gave it to Rinaldo to put\non over his armor, and a hat that was full of holes, and an old pair of\nshoes to put on. They looked like two pilgrims, very old and poor. Then\nthey went forth from the wood, and after a little while saw four monks\nriding along the road. Malagigi said to Rinaldo, \"I will go meet the\nmonks, and see what news I can learn.\"\n\nMalagigi learned from the monks that on the approaching festival there\nwould be a great crowd of people at court, for the prince was going to\nshow the ladies the famous horse Bayard that used to belong to Rinaldo.\n\"What!\" said the pilgrim; \"is Bayard there?\" \"Yes,\" answered the monks;\n\"the king has given him to Charlot, and, after the prince has ridden\nhim the king means to pass sentence on the brothers of Rinaldo, and\nhave them hanged.\" Then Malagigi asked alms of the monks, but they\nwould give him none, till he threw aside his pilgrim garb, and let them\nsee his armor, when, partly for charity and partly for terror, they\ngave him a golden cup, adorned with precious stones that sparkled in\nthe sunshine.\n\nMalagigi then hastened back to Rinaldo, and told him what he had\nlearned.\n\nThe morning of the feast-day Rinaldo and Malagigi came to the place\nwhere the sports were to be held. Malagigi gave Rinaldo his spurs back\nagain, and said, \"Cousin, put on your spurs, for you will need them.\"\n\"How shall I need them,\" said Rinaldo, \"since I have lost my horse?\"\nYet he did as Malagigi directed him.\n\nWhen the two had taken their stand on the border of the field among the\ncrowd the princes and ladies of the court began to assemble. When they\nwere all assembled the king came also, and Charlot with him, near whom\nthe horse Bayard was led, in the charge of grooms, who were expressly\nenjoined to guard him safely. The king, looking round on the circle of\nspectators, saw Malagigi and Rinaldo, and observed the splendid cup\nthat they had, and said to Charlot, \"See, my son, what a brilliant cup\nthose two pilgrims have got. It seems to be worth a hundred ducats.\"\n\"That is true,\" said Charlot; \"Let us go and ask where they got it.\" So\nthey rode to the place where the pilgrims stood, and Charlot stopped\nBayard close to them.\n\nThe horse snuffed at the pilgrims, knew Rinaldo, and caressed his\nmaster. The king said to Malagigi, \"Friend, where did you get that\nbeautiful cup?\" Malagigi replied, \"Honorable sir, I paid for it all the\nmoney I have saved from eleven years' begging in churches and convents.\nThe Pope himself has blessed it, and given it the power that whosoever\neats or drinks out of it shall be pardoned of all his sins.\" Then said\nthe king to Charlot, \"My son, these are right holy men; see how the\ndumb beast worships them.\"\n\nThen the king said to Malagigi, \"Give me a morsel from your cup, that I\nmay be cleared of my sins.\" Malagigi answered, \"Illustrious lord, I\ndare not do it, unless you will forgive all who have at any time\noffended you. You know that Christ forgave all those who had betrayed\nand crucified him.\" The king replied, \"Friend, that is true; but\nRinaldo has so grievously offended me, that I cannot forgive him, nor\nthat other man, Malagigi, the magician. These two shall never live in\nmy kingdom again. If I catch them I will certainly have them hanged.\nBut tell me, pilgrim, who is that man who stands beside you?\" \"He is\ndeaf, dumb, and blind,\" said Malagigi. Then the king said again, \"Give\nme to drink of your cup, to take away my sins.\" Malagigi answered, \"My\nlord king, here is my poor brother, who for fifty days has not heard,\nspoken, nor seen. This misfortune befell him in a house where we found\nshelter, and the day before yesterday we met with a wise woman, who\ntold him the only hope of a cure for him was to come to some place\nwhere Bayard was to be ridden, and to mount and ride him; that would do\nhim more good than anything else.\" Then said the king, \"Friend, you\nhave come to the right place, for Bayard is to be ridden here to-day.\nGive me a draught from your cup, and your companion shall ride upon\nBayard.\" Malagigi, hearing these words, said, \"Be it so.\" Then the\nking, with great devotion, took a spoon, and dipped a portion from the\npilgrim's cup, believing that his sins should be thereby forgiven.\n\nWhen this was done, the king said to Charlot, \"Son, I request that you\nwill let this sick pilgrim sit on your horse, and ride if he can, for\nby so doing he will be healed of all his infirmities.\" Charlot replied,\n\"That will I gladly do.\" So saying, he dismounted, and the servants\ntook the pilgrim in their arms, and helped him on the horse.\n\nWher Rinaldo was mounted, he put his feet in the stirrups, and said, \"I\nwould like to ride a little.\" Malagigi, hearing him speak, seemed\ndelighted, and asked him whether he could see and hear also. \"Yes,\"\nsaid Rinaldo, \"I am healed of all my infirmities.\" When the king heard\nit he said to Bishop Turpin, \"My lord bishop, we must celebrate this\nwith a procession, with crosses and banners, for it is a great miracle.\"\n\nWhen Rinaldo remarked that he was not carefully watched, he spoke to\nthe horse, and touched him with the spurs. Bayard knew that his master\nwas upon him, and he started off upon a rapid pace, and in a few\nmoments was a good way off. Malagigi pretended to be in great alarm. \"O\nnoble king and master,\" he cried, \"my poor companion is run away with;\nhe will fall and break his neck.\" The king ordered his knights to ride\nafter the pilgrim, and bring him back, or help him if need were. They\ndid so, but it was in vain. Rinaldo left them all behind him, and kept\non his way till he reached Montalban. Malagigi was suffered to depart,\nunsuspected, and he went his way, making sad lamentation for the fate\nof his comrade, who he pretended to think must surely be dashed to\npieces.\n\nMalagigi did not go far, but having changed his disguise, returned to\nwhere the king was, and employed his best art in getting the brothers\nof Rinaldo out of prison. He succeeded; and all three got safely to\nMontalban, where Rinaldo's joy at the rescue of his brothers and the\nrecovery of Bayard was more than tongue can tell.\n\n\n\nDEATH OF RINALDO\n\nTHE distress in Rinaldo's castle for want of food grew more severe\nevery day, under the pressure of the siege. The garrison were forced to\nkill their horses, both to save the provision they would consume, and\nto make food of their flesh. At last all the horses were killed except\nBayard, and Rinaldo said to his brothers, \"Bayard must die, for we have\nnothing else to eat.\" So they went to the stable and brought out Bayard\nto kill him. But Alardo said, \"Brother, let Bayard live a little\nlonger; who knows what God may do for us?\"\n\nBayard heard these words, and understood them as if he was a man, and\nfell on his knees, as if he would beg for mercy. When Rinaldo saw the\ndistress of his horse his heart failed him, and he let him live.\n\nJust at this time Aya, Rinaldo's mother, who was the sister of the\nEmperor, came to the camp, attended by knights and ladies, to intercede\nfor her sons. She fell on her knees before the king, and besought him\nthat he would pardon Rinaldo and his brothers: and all the peers and\nknights took her side, and entreated the king to grant her prayer. Then\nsaid the king, \"Dear sister, you act the part of a good mother, and I\nrespect your tender heart, and yield to your entreaties. I will spare\nyour sons their lives if they submit implicitly to my will.\"\n\nWhen Charlot heard this he approached the king and whispered in his\near. And the king turned to his sister and said, \"Charlot must have\nBayard, because I have given the horse to him. Now go, my sister, and\ntell Rinaldo what I have said.\"\n\nWhen the Lady Aya heard these words she was delighted, thanked God in\nher heart, and said, \"Worthy king and brother, I will do as you bid\nme.\" So she went into the castle, where her sons received her most\njoyfully and affectionately, and she told them the king's offer. Then\nAlardo said, \"Brother, I would rather have the king's enmity than give\nBayard to Charlot, for I believe he will kill him.\" Likewise said all\nthe brothers. When Rinaldo heard them he said, \"Dear brothers, if we\nmay win our forgiveness by giving up the horse, so be it. Let us make\nour peace, for we cannot stand against the king's power.\" Then he went\nto his mother, and told her they would give the horse to Charlot, and\nmore, too, if the king would pardon them, and forgive all that they had\ndone against his crown and dignity. The lady returned to Charles and\ntold him the answer of her sons.\n\nWhen the peace was thus made between the king and the sons of Aymon,\nthe brothers came forth from the castle, bringing Bayard with them,\nand, falling at the king's feet, begged his forgiveness. The king bade\nthem rise, and received them into favor in the sight of all his noble\nknights and counsellors, to the great joy of all, especially of the\nLady Aya, their mother. Then Rinaldo took the horse Bayard, gave him to\nCharlot, and said, \"My lord and prince, this horse I give to you; do\nwith him as to you seems good.\" Charlot took him, as had been agreed\non. Then he made the servants take him to the bridge, and throw him\ninto the water. Bayard sank to the bottom, but soon came to the surface\nagain and swam, saw Rinaldo looking at him, came to land, ran to his\nold master, and stood by him as proudly as if he had understanding, and\nwould say, \"Why did you treat me so?\" When the prince saw that he said,\n\"Rinaldo, give me the horse again, for he must die.\" Rinaldo replied,\n\"My lord and prince, he is yours without dispute,\" and gave him to him.\nThe prince then had a millstone tied to each foot, and two to his neck,\nand made them throw him again into the water. Bayard struggled in the\nwater, looked up to his master, threw off the stones, and came back to\nRinaldo.\n\nWhen Alardo saw that, he said, \"Now must thou be disgraced forever,\nbrother, if thou give up the horse again.\" But Rinaldo answered,\n\"Brother, be still. Shall I for the horse's life provoke the anger of\nthe king again?\" Then Alardo said, \"Ah, Bayard! what a return do we\nmake for all thy true love and service!\" Rinaldo gave the horse to the\nprince again, and said, \"My lord, if the horse comes out again I cannot\nreturn him to you any more, for it wrings my heart too much.\" Then\nCharlot had Bayard loaded with the stones as before, and thrown into\nthe water; and commanded Rinaldo that he should not stand where the\nhorse would see him. When Bayard rose to the surface he stretched his\nneck out of the water and looked round for his master, but saw him not.\nThen he sunk to the bottom.\n\nRinaldo was so distressed for the loss of Bayard that he made a vow to\nride no horse again all his life long, nor to bind a sword to his side,\nbut to become a hermit. He resolved to betake himself to some wild\nwood, but first to return to his castle, to see his children, and to\nappoint to each his share of his estate.\n\nSo he took leave of the king and of his brothers, and returned to\nMontalban, and his brothers remained with the king. Rinaldo called his\nchildren to him, and he made his eldest born, Aymeric, a knight, and\nmade him lord of his castle and of his land. He gave to the rest what\nother goods he had, and kissed and embraced them all, commended them to\nGod, and then departed from them with a heavy heart.\n\nHe had not travelled far when he entered a wood, and there met with a\nhermit, who had long been retired from the world. Rinaldo greeted him,\nand the hermit replied courteously, and asked him who he was and what\nwas his purpose. Rinaldo replied, \"Sir, I have led a sinful life; many\ndeeds of violence have I done, and many men have I slain, not always in\na good cause, but often under the impulse of my own headstrong\npassions. I have also been the cause of the death of many of my\nfriends, who took my part, not because they thought me in the right,\nbut only for love of me. And now I come to make confession of all my\nsins, and to do penance for the rest of my life, if perhaps the mercy\nof God will forgive me.\" The hermit said, \"Friend, I perceive you have\nfallen into great sins, and have broken the commandments of God, but\nhis mercy is greater than your sins; and if you repent from your heart,\nand lead a new life, there is yet hope for you that he will forgive you\nwhat is past.\" So Rinaldo was comforted, and said, \"Master, I will stay\nwith you, and what you bid ane I will do.\" The hermit replied, \"Roots\nand vegetables will be your food; shirt or shoes you may not wear; your\nlot must be poverty and want if you stay with me.\" Rinaldo replied, \"I\nwill cheerfully bear all this, and more.\" So he remained three whole\nyears with the hermit, and after that his strength failed, and it\nseemed as if he was like to die.\n\nOne night the hermit had a dream, and heard a voice from heaven, which\ncommanded him to say to his companion that he must without delay go to\nthe Holy Land, and fight against the heathen. The hermit, when he heard\nthat voice, was glad, and calling Rinaldo, he said, \"Friend, God's\nangel has commanded me to say to you that you must without delay go to\nJerusalem, and help our fellow-Christians in their struggle with the\nInfidels.\" Then said Rinaldo, \"Ah! master, how can I do that? It is\nover three years since I made a vow no more to ride a horse, nor take a\nsword or spear in my hand.\" The hermit answered, \"Dear friend, obey\nGod, and do what the angel commanded.\" \"I will do so,\" said Rinaldo,\n\"and pray for me, my master, that God may guide me right.\" Then he\ndeparted, and went to the seaside, and took ship and came to Tripoli in\nSyria.\n\nAnd as he went on his way his strength returned to him, till it was\nequal to what it was in his best days. And though he never mounted a\nhorse, nor took a sword in his hand, yet with his pilgrim's staff he\ndid good service in the armies of the Christians; and it pleased God\nthat he escaped unhurt, though he was present in many battles, and his\ncourage inspired the men with the same. At last a truce was made with\nthe Saracens, and Rinaldo, now old and infirm, wishing to see his\nnative land again before he died, took ship and sailed for France. When\nhe arrived he shunned to go to the resorts of the great, and preferred\nto live among the humble folk, where he was unknown. He did country\nwork, and lived on milk and bread, drank water, and was therewith\ncontent. While he so lived he heard that the city of Cologne was the\nholiest and best of cities, on account of the relics and bodies of\nsaints who had there poured out their blood for the faith. This induced\nhim to betake himself thither. When the pious hero arrived at Cologne\nhe went to the monastery of St. Peter, and lived a holy life, occupied\nnight and day in devotion. It so happened that at that time in the next\ntown to Cologne there raged a dreadful pestilence. Many people came to\nRinaldo, to beg him to pray for them, that the plague might be stayed.\nThe holy man prayed fervently, and besought the Lord to take away the\nplague from the people, and his prayer was heard. The stroke of the\npestilence was arrested, and all the people thanked the holy man and\npraised God.\n\nNow there was at this time at Cologne a bishop, called Agilolphus, who\nwas a wise and understanding man, who led a pure and secluded life, and\nset a good example to others. This bishop undertook to build the Church\nof St. Peter, and gave notice to all stonemasons and other workmen\nround about to come to Cologne, where they should find work and wages.\nAmong others came Rinaldo; and he worked among the laborers and did\nmore than four or five common workmen. When they went to dinner he\nbrought stone and mortar so that they had enough for the whole day.\nWhen the others went to bed he stretched himself out on the stones. He\nate bread only, and drank nothing but water; and had for his wages but\na penny a day. The head workman asked him his name, and where he\nbelonged. He would not tell, but said nothing and pursued his work.\nThey called him St. Peter's workman, because he was so devoted to his\nwork.\n\nWhen the overseer saw the diligence of this holy man he chid the\nlaziness of the other workmen, and said, \"You receive more pay than\nthis good man, but do not do half as much work.\" For this reason the\nother workmen hated Rinaldo, and made a secret agreement to kill him.\nThey knew that he made it a practice to go every night to a certain\nchurch to pray and give alms. So they agreed to lay wait for him, with\nthe purpose to kill him. When he came to the spot, they seized him, and\nbeat him over the head till he was dead. Then they put his body into a\nsack, and stones with it, and cast it into the Rhine, in the hope the\nsack would sink to the bottom, and be there concealed. But God willed\nnot that it should be so, but caused the sack to float on the surface,\nand be thrown upon the bank. And the soul of the holy martyr was\ncarried by angels, with songs of praise, up to the heavens.\n\nNow at that time the people of Dortmund had become converted to the\nChristian faith; and they sent to the Bishop of Cologne, and desired\nhim to give them some of the holy relics that are in such abundance in\nthat city. So the Bishop called together his clergy to deliberate what\nanswer they should give to this request. And it was determined to give\nto the people of Dortmund the body of the holy man who had just\nsuffered martyrdom.\n\nWhen now the body with the coffin was put on the cart, the cart began\nto move toward Dortmund without horses or help of men, and stopped not\ntill it reached the place where the church of St. Rinaldo now stands.\nThe Bishop and his clergy followed the holy man to do him honor, with\nsinging of hymns, for a space of three miles. And St. Rinaldo has ever\nsince been the patron of that place, and many wonderful works has God\ndone through him, as may be seen in the legends.\n\n\n\nHUON OF BORDEAUX\n\nWHEN Charlemagne grew old he felt the burden of government become\nheavier year by year, till at last he called together his high barons\nand peers to propose to abdicate the empire and the throne of France in\nfavor of his sons, Charlot and Lewis.\n\nThe Emperor was unreasonably partial to his eldest son; he would have\nbeen glad to have had the barons and peers demand Charlot for their\nonly sovereign; but that prince was so infamous, for his falsehood and\ncruelty, that the council strenuously opposed the Emperor's proposal of\nabdicating, and implored him to continue to hold a sceptre which he\nwielded with so much glory.\n\nAmaury of Hauteville, cousin of Ganelon, and now head of the wicked\nbranch of the house of Maganza, was the secret partisan of Charlot,\nwhom he resembled in his loose morals and bad dispositions. Amaury\nnourished the most bitter resentment against the house of Guienne, of\nwhich the former Duke, Sevinus, had often rebuked his misdeeds. He took\nadvantage of this occasion to do an injury to the two young children\nwhom the Duke Sevinus had left under the charge of the Duchess Alice,\ntheir mother; and at the same time, to advance his interest with\nCharlot by increasing his wealth and power. With this view he suggested\nto the prince a new idea.\n\nHe pretended to agree with the opinion of the barons; he said that it\nwould be best to try Charlot's capacity for government by giving him\nsome rich provinces before placing him upon the throne; and that the\nEmperor, without depriving himself of any part of his realm, might give\nCharlot the investiture of Guienne. For although seven years had passed\nsince the death of Sevinus, the young Duke, his son, had not yet\nrepaired to the court of Charlemagne to render the homage due to his\nlawful sovereign.\n\nWe have often had occasion to admire the justice and wisdom of the\nadvice which on all occasions the Duke Namo of Bavaria gave to\nCharlemagne, and he now discountenanced, with indignation, the selfish\nadvice of Amaury. He represented to the Emperor the early age of the\nchildren of Sevinus, and the useful and glorious services of their late\nfather, and proposed to Charlemagne to send two knights to the Duchess\nat Bordeaux, to summon her two sons to the court of the Emperor, to pay\ntheir respects and render homage.\n\nCharlemagne approved this advice, and sent two chevaliers to demand the\ntwo young princes of their mother. No sooner had the Duchess learned\nthe approach of the two knights, than she sent distinguished persons to\nreceive them; and as soon as they entered the palace she presented\nherself before them, with her elder and younger sons, Huon and Girard.\n\nThe deputies, delighted with the honors and caresses they received,\naccompanied with rich presents, left Bordeaux with regret and on their\nreturn represented to Charlemagne that the young Duke Huon seemed born\nto tread in the footsteps of his brave father, informing him that in\nthree months the young princes of Guienne would present themselves at\nhis court.\n\nThe Duchess employed the short interval in giving her sons her last\ninstructions. Huon received them in his heart, and Girard gave as much\nheed to them as could be expected from one so young.\n\nThe preparations for their departure having been made, the Duchess\nembraced them tenderly, commending them to the care of Heaven, and\ncharged them to call, on their way, at the celebrated monastery of\nCluny, to visit the Abbot, the brother of their father. This Abbot,\nworthy of his high dignity, had never lost an opportunity of doing\ngood, setting an example of every excellence, and making virtue\nattractive by his example.\n\nHe received his nephews with the greatest magnificence; and, aware how\nuseful his presence might be to them with Charlemagne, whose valued\ncounsellor he was, he took with them the road to Paris.\n\nWhen Amaury learned what reception the two deputies of Charlemagne had\nreceived at Bordeaux, and the arrangements made for the visit of the\nyoung princes to the Emperor's court, he suggested to Charlot to give\nhim a troop of his guards, with which he proposed to lay wait for the\nyoung men in the wood of Montlery, put them to death, and thereby give\nthe prince Charlot possession of the duchy of Guienne.\n\nA plan of treachery and violence agreed but too well with Charlot's\ndisposition. He not only adopted the suggestion of Amaury, but insisted\nupon taking a part in it. They went out secretly, by night, followed by\na great number of attendants, all armed in black, to lie in ambuscade\nin the wood where the brothers were to pass.\n\nGirard, the younger of the two, having amused himself as he rode by\nflying his hawk at such game as presented itself, had ridden in advance\nof his brother and the Abbot of Cluny. Charlot, who saw him coming,\nalone and unarmed, went forth to meet him, sought a quarrel with him,\nand threw him from his horse with a stroke of his lance. Girard uttered\na cry as he fell; Huon heard it, and flew to his defence, with no other\nweapon than his sword. He came up with him, and saw the blood flowing\nfrom his wound. \"What has this child done to you, wretch!\" he exclaimed\nto Charlot. \"How cowardly to attack him when unprepared to defend\nhimself!\" \"By my faith,\" said Charlot, \"I mean to do the same by you.\nKnow that I am the son of Duke Thierry of Ardennes, from whom your\nfather, Sevinus, took three castles; I have sworn to avenge him, and I\ndefy you.\" \"Coward,\" answered Huon, \"I know well the baseness that\ndwells in your race; worthy son of Thierry, use the advantage that your\narmor gives you; but know that I fear you not.\" At these words Charlot\nhad the wickedness to put his lance in rest, and to run upon Huon, who\nhad barely time to wrap his arm in his mantle. With this feeble buckler\nhe received the thrust of the lance. It penetrated the mantle, but\nmissed his body. Then, rising upon his stirrups, Sir Huon struck\nCharlot so terrible a blow with his sword that the helmet was cleft\nasunder, and his head too. The dastardly prince fell dead upon the\nground.\n\nHuon now perceived that the wood was full of armed men. He called the\nmen of his suite, and they hastily put themselves in order, but nobody\nissued from the wood to attack him. Amaury, who saw Charlot's fall, had\nno desire to compromit himself; and, feeling sure that Charlemagne\nwould avenge the death of his son, he saw no occasion for his doing\nanything more at present. He left Huon and the Abbot of Cluny to bind\nup the wound of Girard, and, having seen them depart and resume their\nway to Paris, he took up the body of Charlot, and, placing it across a\nhorse, had it carried to Paris, where he arrived four hours after Huon.\n\nThe Abbot of Cluny presented his nephew to Charlemagne, but Huon\nrefrained from paying his obeisance, complaining grievously of the\nambush which had been set for him, which he said could not have been\nwithout the Emperor's permission. Charlemagne, surprised at a charge\nwhich his magnanimous soul was incapable of meriting, asked eagerly of\nthe Abbot what were the grounds of the complaints of his nephew. The\nAbbot told him faithfully all that had happened, informing him that a\ncoward knight, who called himself the son of Thierry of Ardennes, had\nwounded Girard, and run upon Huon, who was unarmed; but by his force\nand valor he had overcome the traitor, and left him dead upon the plain.\n\nCharlemagne indignantly disavowed any connection with the action of the\ninfamous Thierry, congratulated the young Duke upon his victory,\nhimself conducted the two brothers to a rich apartment, stayed to see\nthe first dressing applied to the wound of Girard, and left the\nbrothers in charge of Duke Namo of Bavaria, who, having been a\ncompanion in arms of the Duke Sevinus, regarded the young men almost as\nif they were his own sons.\n\nCharlemagne had hardly quitted them when, returning to his chamber, he\nheard cries, and saw through the window a party of armed men just\narrived. He recognized Amaury, who bore a dead knight stretched across\na horse; and the name of Charlot was heard among the exclamations of\nthe people assembled in the court-yard.\n\nCharles's partiality for this unworthy son was one of his weaknesses.\nHe descended in trepidation to the court-yard, ran to Amaury, and\nuttered a cry of grief on recognizing Charlot. \"It is Huon of\nBordeaux,\" said the traitor Amaury, \"who has massacred your son before\nit was in my power to defend him.\" Charlemagne, furious at these words,\nseized a sword, and flew to the apartment of the two brothers to plunge\nit into the heart of the murderer of his son. Duke Namo stopped his\nhand for an instant, while Charles told him the crime of which Huon was\naccused. \"He is a peer of the realm,\" said Namo, \"and if he is guilty,\nis he not here in your power, and are not we peers the proper judges to\ncondemn him to death? Let not your hand be stained with his blood.\" The\nEmperor, calmed by the wisdom of Duke Namo, summoned Amaury to his\npresence. The peers assembled to hear his testimony, and the traitor\naccused Huon of Bordeaux of having struck the fatal blow without\nallowing Charlot an opportunity to defend himself, and though he knew\nthat his opponent was the Emperor's eldest son.\n\nThe Abbot of Cluny, indignant at the false accusation of Amaury,\nadvanced, and said, \"By Saint Benedict, sire, the traitor lies in his\nthroat. If my nephew has slain Charlot it was in his own defence, and\nafter having seen his brother wounded by him, and also in ignorance\nthat his adversary was the prince. Though I am a son of the Church,\"\nadded the good Abbot, \"I forget not that I am a knight by birth. I\noffer to prove with my body the lie upon Amaury, if he dares sustain\nit, and I shall feel that I am doing a better work to punish a disloyal\ntraitor, than to sing lauds and matins.\"\n\nHuon to this time had kept silent, amazed at the black calumny of\nAmaury; but now he stepped forth, and, addressing Amaury, said:\n\"Traitor! darest thou maintain in arms the lie thou hast uttered?\"\nAmaury, a knight of great prowess, despising the youth and slight\nfigure of Huon, hesitated not to offer his glove, which Huon seized;\nthen, turning again to the peers, he said: \"I pray you let the combat\nbe allowed me, for never was there a more legitimate cause.\" The Duke\nNamo and the rest, deciding that the question should be remitted to the\njudgment of Heaven, the combat was ordained, to which Charlemagne\nunwillingly consented. The young Duke was restored to the charge of\nDuke Namo, who the next morning invested him with the honors of\nknighthood, and gave him armor of proof, with a white shield. The Abbot\nof Cluny, delighted to find in his nephew sentiments worthy of his\nbirth, embraced him, gave him his blessing, and hastened to the church\nof St. Germains to pray for him, while the officers of the king\nprepared the lists for the combat.\n\nThe battle was long and obstinate. The address and agility of Huon\nenabled him to avoid the terrible blows which the ferocious Amaury\naimed at him. But Huon had more than once drawn blood from his\nantagonist. The effect began to be perceived in the failing strength of\nthe traitor; at last he threw himself from his horse, and kneeling,\nbegged for mercy. \"Spare me,\" he said, \"and I will confess all. Aid me\nto rise, and lead me to Charlemagne.\" The brave and loyal Huon, at\nthese words, put his sword under his left arm, and stretched out his\nright to raise the prostrate man, who seized the opportunity to give\nhim a thrust in the side. The hauberk of Huon resisted the blow, and he\nwas wounded but slightly. Transported with rage at this act of\nbaseness, he forgot how necessary for his complete acquittal the\nconfession of Amaury was, and without delay dealt him the fatal blow.\n\nDuke Namo and the other peers approached, had the body of Amaury\ndragged forth from the lists, and conducted Huon to Charlemagne. The\nEmperor, however, listening to nothing but his resentment and grief for\nthe death of his son, refused to be satisfied; and under the plea that\nHuon had not succeeded in making his accuser retract his charge seemed\nresolved to confiscate his estates and to banish him forever from\nFrance. It was not till after long entreaties on the part of Duke Namo\nand the rest that he consented to grant Huon his pardon, under\nconditions which he should impose.\n\nHuon approached, and knelt before the Emperor, rendered his homage, and\ncried him mercy for the involuntary killing of his son. Charlemagne\nwould not receive the hands of Huon in his own, but touched him with\nhis sceptre, saying, \"I receive thy homage, and pardon thee the death\nof my son, but only on one condition. You shall go immediately to the\ncourt of the Sultan Gaudisso; you shall present yourself before him as\nhe sits at meat; you shall cut off the head of the most illustrious\nguest whom you shall find sitting nearest to him; you shall kiss three\ntimes on the mouth the fair princess, his daughter, and you shall\ndemand of the Sultan, as token of tribute to me, a handful of the white\nhair of his beard, and four grinders from his mouth.\"\n\nThese conditions caused a murmur from all the assembly. \"What!\" said\nthe Abbot of Cluny; \"slaughter a Saracen prince without first offering\nhim baptism?\" \"The second condition is not so hard,\" said the young\npeers, \"but the demand that Huon is bound to make of the old Sultan is\nvery uncivil, and will be hard to obtain.\"\n\nThe Emperor's obstinacy when he had once resolved upon a thing is well\nknown. To the courage of Huon nothing seemed impossible. \"I accept the\nconditions,\" said he, silencing the intercessions of the old Duke of\nBavaria; \"my liege, I accept my pardon at this price. I go to execute\nyour commands, as your vassal and a peer of France.\"\n\nThe Duke Namo and Abbot of Cluny, being unable to obtain any relaxation\nof the sentence passed by Charlemagne, led forth the young Duke, who\ndetermined to set out at once on his expedition. All that the good\nAbbot could obtain of him was, that he should prepare for this perilous\nundertaking by going first to Rome, to pay his homage to the Pope, who\nwas the brother of the Duchess Alice, Huon's mother, and from him\ndemand absolution and his blessing. Huon promised it, and forthwith set\nout on his way to Rome.\n\n\n\nHUON OF BORDEAUX (Continued)\n\nHUON, having traversed the Apennines and Italy, arrived at the environs\nof Rome, where, laying aside his armor, he assumed the dress of a\npilgrim. In this attire he presented himself before the Pope, and not\ntill after he had made a full confession of his sins did he announce\nhimself as his nephew. \"Ah! my dear nephew,\" exclaimed the Holy Father,\n\"what harder penance could I impose than the Emperor has already done?\nGo in peace, my son,\" he added, absolving him, \"I go to intercede for\nyou with the Most High.\" Then he led his nephew into his palace, and\nintroduced him to all the Cardinals and Princes of Rome as the Duke of\nGuienne, son of the Duchess Alice, his sister.\n\nHuon, at setting out, had made a vow not to stop more than three days\nin a place. The Holy Father took advantage of this time to inspire him\nwith zeal for the glory of Christianity, and with confidence in the\nprotection of the Most High. He advised him to embark for Palestine, to\nvisit the Holy Sepulchre, and to depart thence for the interior of Asia.\n\nLoaded with the blessings of the Holy Father, Huon, obeying his\ncounsels, embarked for Palestine, arrived, and visited with the\ngreatest reverence the holy places. He then departed, and took his way\ntoward the east.\n\nBut, ignorant of the country and of the language, he lost himself in a\nforest, and remained three days without seeing a human creature, living\non honey and wild fruits which he found on the trees. The third day,\nseeking a passage through a rocky defile, he beheld a man in tattered\nclothing, whose beard and hair covered his breast and shoulders. This\nman stopped on seeing him, observed him, and recognized the arms and\nbearing of a French knight. He immediately approached, and exclaimed,\nin the language of the South of France, \"God be praised! Do I indeed\nbehold a chevalier of my own country, after fifteen years passed in\nthis desert without seeing the face of a fellow-countryman?\"\n\nHuon, to gratify him still more, unlaced his helmet, and came towards\nhim with a smiling countenance. The other regarded him with more\nsurprise than at first. \"Good Heaven!\" he exclaimed, \"was there ever\nsuch a resemblance? Ah, noble sir,\" he added, \"tell me, I beseech you,\nof what country and race you come?\" \"I require,\" replied Huon, \"before\ntelling you mine, that you first reveal your own; let it suffice you at\npresent to know that I am a Christian, and that in Guienne I was born.\"\n\"Ah! Heaven grant that my eyes and my heart do not deceive me,\"\nexclaimed the unknown; \"my name is Sherasmin; I am brother to Guire,\nthe Mayor of Bordeaux. I was taken prisoner in the battle where my dear\nand illustrious master, Sevinus, lost his life. For three years I\nendured the miseries of slavery; at length I broke my chains and\nescaped to this desert, where I have sustained myself in solitude ever\nsince. Your features recall to me my beloved sovereign, in whose\nservice I was from my infancy till his death.\" Huon made no reply but\nby embracing the old man, with tears in his eyes. Then Sherasmin\nlearned that his arms enfolded the son of the Duke Sevinus. He led him\nto his cabin, and spread before him the dry fruits and honey which\nformed his only aliment.\n\nHuon recounted his adventures to Sherasmin, who was moved to tears at\nthe recital. He then consulted him on means of conducting his\nenterprise. Sherasmin hesitated not to confess that success seemed\nimpossible; nevertheless he swore a solemn oath never to abandon him.\nThe Saracen language, which he was master of, would be serviceable to\nthem when they should leave the desert, and mingle with men.\n\nThey took the route of the Red Sea, and entered Arabia. Their way lay\nthrough a region which Sherasmin described as full of terrors. It was\ninhabited by Oberon, King of the Fairies, who made captive such knights\nas were rash enough to penetrate into it, and transformed them into\nHobgoblins. It was possible to avoid this district at the expense of\nsomewhat lengthening their route; but no dangers could deter Huon of\nBordeaux; and the brave Sherasmin, who had now resumed the armor of a\nknight, reluctantly consented to share with him the dangers of the\nshorter route.\n\nThey entered a wood, and arrived at a spot whence alleys branched off\nin various directions. One of them seemed to be terminated by a superb\npalace, whose gilded roofs were adorned with brilliant weathercocks\ncovered with diamonds. A superb chariot issued from the gate of the\npalace, and drove toward Huon and his companion, as if to meet them\nhalf-way. The prince saw no one in the chariot but a child apparently\nabout five years old, very beautiful, and clad in a robe which\nglittered with precious stones. At the sight of him, Sherasmin's terror\nwas extreme. He seized the reins of Huon's horse, and turned him about,\nhurrying the prince away, and assuring him that they were lost if they\nstopped to parley with the mischievous dwarf, who, though he appeared a\nchild, was full of years and of treachery. Huon was sorry to lose sight\nof the beautiful dwarf, whose aspect had nothing in it to alarm; yet he\nfollowed his friend, who urged on his horse with all possible speed.\nPresently a storm began to roar through the forest, the daylight grew\ndim, and they found their way with difficulty. From time to time they\nseemed to hear an infantine voice, which said, \"Stop, Duke Huon; listen\nto me: it is in vain you fly me!\"\n\nSherasmin only fled the faster, and stopped not until he had reached\nthe gate of a monastery of monks and nuns, the two communities of which\nwere assembled at that time in a religious procession. Sherasmin,\nfeeling safe from the malice of the dwarf in the presence of so many\nholy persons and the sacred banners, stopped to ask an asylum, and made\nHuon dismount also. But at that moment they were joined by the dwarf,\nwho blew a blast upon an ivory horn which hung from his neck.\nImmediately the good Sherasmin, in spite of himself, began to dance\nlike a young collegian, and seizing the hand of an aged nun, who felt\nas if it would be her death, they footed it briskly over the grass, and\nwere imitated by all the other monks and nuns, mingled together,\nforming the strangest dancing-party ever beheld. Huron alone felt no\ndisposition to dance; but he came near dying of laughter at seeing the\nridiculous postures and leaps of the others.\n\nThe dwarf, approaching Huon, said, in a sweet voice, and in Huon's own\nlanguage, \"Duke of Guienne, why do you shun me? I conjure you, in\nHeaven's name, speak to me.\" Huon, hearing himself addressed in this\nserious manner, and knowing that no evil spirit would dare to use the\nholy name in aid of his schemes, replied, \"Sir, whoever you are, I am\nready to hear and answer you.\" \"Huon, my friend,\" continued the dwarf,\n\"I always loved your race, and you have been dear to me ever since your\nbirth. The gracious state of conscience in which you were when you\nentered my wood has protected you from all enchantments, even if I had\nintended to practise any upon you. If these monks, these nuns, and even\nyour friend Sherasmin, had had a conscience as pure as yours, my horn\nwould not have set them dancing; but where is the monk or the nun who\ncan always be deaf to the voice of the tempter, and Sherasmin in the\ndesert has often doubted the power of Providence.\"\n\nAt these words Huon saw the dancers overcome with exertion. He begged\nmercy for them, the dwarf granted it, and the effect of the horn ceased\nat once; the nuns got rid of their partners, smoothed their dresses,\nand hastened to resume their places in the procession. Sherasmin,\novercome with heat, panting, and unable to stand on his legs, threw\nhimself upon the grass, and began, \"Did not I tell you\"--He was going\non in an angry tone, but the dwarf, approaching, said, \"Sherasmin, why\nhave you murmured against Providence? Why have you thought evil of me?\nYou deserved this light punishment; but I know you to be good and\nloyal; I mean to show myself your friend, as you shall soon see.\" At\nthese words he presented him a rich goblet. \"Make the sign of the cross\non this cup,\" said he, \"and then believe that I hold my power from the\nGod you adore, whose faithful servant I am, as well as you.\" Sherasmin\nobeyed, and on the instant the cup was filled with delicious wine, a\ndraught of which restored vigor to his limbs, and made him feel young\nagain. Overcome with gratitude, he threw himself on his knees, but the\ndwarf raised him, and bade him sit beside him, and thus commenced his\nhistory:\n\n\"Julius Caesar, going by sea to join his army, was driven by a storm to\ntake shelter in the island of Celea, where dwelt the fairy Glorianda.\nFrom this renowned pair I draw my birth. I am the inheritor of that\nwhich was most admirable in each of my parents: my father's heroic\nqualities, and my mother's beauty and magic art. But a malicious sister\nof my mother's, in revenge for some slight offence, touched me with her\nwand when I was only five years old, and forbade me to grow any bigger;\nand my mother, with all her power, was unable to annul the sentence. I\nhave thus continued infantile in appearance, though full of years and\nexperience. The power which I derive from my mother I use sometimes for\nmy own diversion, but always to promote justice and to reward virtue. I\nam able and willing to assist you, Duke of Guienne, for I know the\nerrand on which you come hither. I presage for you, if you follow my\ncounsels, complete success; and the beautiful Clarimunda for a wife.\"\n\nWhen he had thus spoken he presented to Huon the precious and useful\ncup, which had the faculty of filling itself when a good man took it in\nhis hand. He gave him also his beautiful horn of ivory, saying to him,\n\"Huon, when you sound this gently, you will make the hearers dance, as\nyou have seen; but if you sound it forcibly, fear not that I shall hear\nit, though at a hundred leagues' distance, and will fly to your relief;\nbut be careful not to sound it in that way, unless upon the most urgent\noccasion.\"\n\nOberon directed Huon what course he should take to reach the country of\nthe Sultan Gaudisso. \"You will encounter great perils,\" said he,\n\"before arriving there, and I fear me,\" he added, with tears in his\neyes, \"that you will not in everything obey my directions, and in that\ncase you will suffer much calamity.\" Then he embraced Huon and\nSherasmin, and left them.\n\nHuon and his follower travelled many days through the desert before\nthey reached any inhabited place, and all this while the wonderful cup\nsustained them, furnishing them not only wine, but food also. At last\nthey came to a great city. As day was declining, they entered its\nsuburbs, and Sherasmin, who spoke the Saracen language perfectly,\ninquired for an inn where they could pass the night. A person who\nappeared to be one of the principal inhabitants, seeing two strangers\nof respectable appearance making this inquiry, stepped forward and\nbegged them to accept the shelter of his mansion. They entered, and\ntheir host did the honors of his abode with a politeness which they\nwere astonished to see in a Saracen. He had them served with coffee and\nsherbet, and all was conducted with great decorum, till one of the\nservants awkwardly overturned a cup of hot coffee on the host's legs,\nwhen he started up, exclaiming in very good Gascon, \"Blood and thunder!\nyou blockhead, you deserve to be thrown over the mosque!\"\n\nHuon could not help laughing to see the vivacity and the language of\nhis country thus break out unawares. The host, who had no idea that his\nguests understood his words, was astonished when Huon addressed him in\nthe dialect of his country. Immediately confidence was established\nbetween them; especially when the domestics had retired. The host,\nseeing that he was discovered, and that the two pretended Saracens were\nfrom the borders of the Garonne, embraced them, and disclosed that he\nwas a Christian. Huon, who had learned prudence from the advice of\nOberon, to test his host's sincerity, drew from his robe the cup which\nthe Fairy-king had given him, and presented it empty to the host. \"A\nfair cup,\" said he, \"but I should like it better if it was full.\"\nImmediately it was so. The host, astonished, dared not put it to his\nlips. \"Drink boldly, my dear fellow-countryman,\" said Huon; \"your truth\nis proved by this cup, which only fills itself in the hands of an\nhonest man.\" The host did not hesitate longer; the cup passed freely\nfrom hand to hand; their mutual cordiality increased as it passed, and\neach recounted his adventures. Those of Huon redoubled his host's\nrespect; for he recognized in him his legitimate sovereign: while the\nhost's narrative was in these words:\n\n\"My name is Floriac; this great and strong city, you will hear with\nsurprise and grief, is governed by a brother of Duke Sevinus, and your\nuncle. You have no doubt heard that a young brother of the Duke of\nGuienne was stolen away from the sea-shore, with his companions, by\nsome corsairs. I was then his page, and we were carried by those\ncorsairs to Barbary, where we were sold for slaves. The Barbary prince\nsent us as part of the tribute which he yearly paid to his sovereign,\nthe Sultan Gaudisso. Your uncle, who had been somewhat puffed up by the\nflattery of his attendants, thought to increase his importance with his\nnew master by telling him his rank. The Sultan, who, like a true\nMussulman, detested all Christian princes, exerted himself from that\nmoment to bring him over to the Saracen faith. He succeeded but too\nwell. Your uncle, seduced by the arts of the Santons, and by the\npleasures and indulgences which the Sultan allowed him, committed the\nhorrid crime of apostasy; he renounced his baptism, and embraced\nMahometanism. Gaudisso then loaded him with honors, made him espouse\none of his nieces, and sent him to reign over this city and adjoining\ncountry. Your uncle preserved for me the same friendship which he had\nhad when a boy; but all his caresses and efforts could not make me\nrenounce my faith. Perhaps he respected me in his heart for my\nresistance to his persuasions, perhaps he had hopes of inducing me in\ntime to imitate him. He made me accompany him to this city, of which he\nwas master, he gave me his confidence, and permits me to keep in my\nservice some Christians, whom I protect for the sake of their faith.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Huon, \"take me to this guilty uncle. A prince of the\nhouse of Guienne, must he not blush at the cowardly abandonment of the\nfaith of his fathers?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" replied Floriac, \"I fear he will neither be sensible of shame\nat your reproaches, nor of pleasure at the sight of a nephew so worthy\nof his lineage. Brutified by sensuality, jealous of his power, which he\noften exercises with cruelty, he will more probably restrain you by\nforce or put you to death.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" said the brave and fervent Huon, \"I could not die in a\nbetter cause; and I demand of you to conduct me to him to-morrow, after\nhaving told him of my arrival and my birth.\" Floriac still objected,\nbut Huon would take no denial, and he promised obedience.\n\nNext morning Floriac waited upon the Governor and told him of the\narrival of his nephew, Huon of Bordeaux; and of the intention of the\nprince to present himself at his court that very day. The Governor,\nsurprised, did not immediately answer; though he at once made up his\nmind what to do. He knew that Floriac loved Christians and the princes\nof his native land too well to aid in any treason to one of them; he\ntherefore feigned great pleasure at hearing of the arrival of the\neldest born of his family at his court. He immediately sent Floriac to\nfind him; he caused his palace to be put in festal array, his divan to\nbe assembled, and after giving some secret orders, went himself to meet\nhis nephew, whom he introduced under his proper name and title to all\nthe great officers of his court.\n\nHuon burned with indignation at seeing his uncle with forehead\nencircled with a rich turban, surmounted with a crescent of precious\nstones. His natural candor made him receive with pain the embraces\nwhich the treacherous Governor lavished upon him. Meanwhile the hope of\nfinding a suitable moment to reproach him for his apostasy made him\nsubmit to those honors which his uncle caused to be rendered to him.\nThe Governor evaded with address the chance of being alone with Huon\nand spent all the morning in taking him through his gardens and palace.\nAt last, when the hour of dinner approached, and the Governor took him\nby the hand to lead him into the dining-hall, Huon seized the\nopportunity and said to him in a low voice, \"O my uncle! O Prince,\nbrother of the Duke Sevinus! in what condition have I the grief and\nshame of seeing you!\" The Governor pretended to be moved, pressed his\nhand, and whispered in his ear, \"Silence! my dear nephew; to-morrow\nmorning I will hear you fully.\"\n\nHuon, comforted a little by these words, took his seat at the table by\nthe side of the Governor. The Mufti, some Cadis, Agas, and Santons,\nfilled the other places. Sherasmin sat down with them; but Floriac, who\nwould not lose sight of his guests, remained standing, and passed in\nand out to observe what was going on within the palace. He soon\nperceived a number of armed men gliding through the passages and\nantechambers connected with the dining-hall. He was about to enter to\ngive his guests notice of what he had seen when he heard a violent\nnoise and commotion in the hall. The cause was this.\n\nHuon and Sherasmin were well enough suited with the first course and\nate with good appetite; but the people of their country not being\naccustomed to drink only water at their meals, Huon and Sherasmin\nlooked at one another, not very well pleased at such a regimen. Huon\nlaughed outright at the impatience of Sherasmin, but soon, experiencing\nthe same want himself, he drew forth Oberon's cup and made the sign of\nthe cross. The cup filled and he drank it off, and handed it to\nSherasmin, who followed his example. The Governor and his officers,\nseeing this abhorred sign, contracted their brows and sat in silent\nconsternation. Huon pretended not to observe it, and having filled the\ncup again handed it to his uncle, saying, \"Pray, join us, dear uncle;\nit is excellent Bordeaux wine, the drink that will be to you like\nmother's milk.\" The Governor, who often drank in secret with his own\nfavorite Sultanas the wines of Greece and Shiraz, never in public drank\nanything but water. He had not for a long time tasted the excellent\nwines of his native land; he was sorely tempted to drink what was now\nhanded to him, it looked so bright in the cup, outshining the gold\nitself. He stretched forth his hand, took the brimming goblet, and\nraised it to his lips, when immediately it dried up and disappeared.\nHuon and Sherasmin, like Gascons as they were, laughed at his\nastonishment. \"Christian dogs!\" he exclaimed, \"do you dare to insult me\nat my own table? But I will soon be revenged.\" At these words he threw\nthe cup at the head of his nephew, who caught it with his left hand,\nwhile with the other he snatched the turban, with its crescent, from\nthe Governor's head and threw it on the floor. All the Saracens started\nup from table, with loud outcries, and prepared to avenge the insult.\nHuon and Sherasmin put themselves on their defence, and met with their\nswords the scimitars directed against them. At this moment the doors of\nthe hall opened and a crowd of soldiers and armed eunuchs rushed in,\nwho joined in the attack upon Huon and Sherasmin. The Prince and his\nfollowers took refuge on a broad shelf or side-board, where they kept\nat bay the crowd of assailants, making the most forward of them smart\nfor their audacity. But more troops came pressing in and the brave\nHuon, inspired by the wine of Bordeaux, and not angry enough to lose\nhis relish for a joke, blew a gentle note on his horn, and no sooner\nwas it heard than it quelled the rage of the combatants and set them to\ndancing. Huon and Sherasmin, no longer attacked, looked down from their\nelevated position on a scene the most singular and amusing. Very soon\nthe Sultanas, hearing the sound of the dance and finding their guards\nwithdrawn, came into the hall and mixed with the dancers. The favorite\nSultana seized upon a young Santon, who performed jumps two feet high;\nbut soon the long dresses of this couple got intermingled and threw\nthem down. The Santon's beard was caught in the Sultana's necklace, and\nthey could not disentangle them. The Governor by no means approved this\nfamiliarity, and took two steps forward to get at the Santon, but he\nstumbled over a prostrate Dervise and measured his length on the floor.\nThe dancing continued till the strength of the performers was\nexhausted, and they fell, one after the other, and lay helpless. The\nGovernor at length made signs to Huon that he would yield everything if\nhe would but allow him to rest. The bargain was ratified; the Governor\nallowed Huon and Sherasmin to depart on their way, and even gave them a\nring which would procure them safe passage through his country and\naccess to the Sultan Gaudisso. The two friends hastened to avail\nthemselves of this favorable turn, and taking leave of Floriac, pursued\ntheir journey.\n\n\n\nHUON OF BORDEAUX (Continued)\n\nHUON had seen many beauties at his mother's court, but his heart had\nnever been touched with love. Honor had been his mistress, and in\npursuit of that he had never found time to give a thought to softer\ncares. Strange that a heart so insensible should first be touched by\nsomething so unsubstantial as a dream; but so it was.\n\nThe day after the adventure with his uncle night overtook the\ntravellers as they passed through a forest. A grotto offered them\nshelter from the night dews. The magic cup supplied their evening meal;\nfor such was its virtue that it afforded not only wine, but more solid\nfare when desired. Fatigue soon threw them into profound repose. Lulled\nby the murmur of the foliage, and breathing the fragrance of the\nflowers, Huon dreamed that a lady more beautiful than he had ever\nbefore seen hung over him and imprinted a kiss upon his lips. As he\nstretched out his arms to embrace her a sudden gust of wind swept her\naway.\n\nHuon awoke in an agony of regret. A few moments sufficed to afford some\nconsolation in showing him that what had passed was but a dream; but\nhis perplexity and sadness could not escape the notice of Sherasmin.\nHuon hesitated not to inform his faithful follower of the reason of his\npensiveness; and got nothing in return but his rallyings for allowing\nhimself to be disturbed by such a cause. He recommended a draught from\nthe fairy goblet, and Huon tried it with good effect.\n\nAt early dawn they resumed their way. They travelled till high noon,\nbut said little to one another. Huon was musing on his dream, and\nSherasmin's thoughts flew back to his early days on the banks of the\nflowery Garonne.\n\nOn a sudden they were startled by the cry of distress, and turning an\nangle of the wood, came where a knight hard pressed was fighting with a\nfurious lion. The knight's horse lay dead, and it seemed as if another\nmoment would end the combat, for terror and fatigue had quite disabled\nthe knight for further resistance. He fell, and the lion's paw was\nraised over him, when a blow from Huon's sword turned the monster's\nrage upon a new enemy. His roar shook the forest, and he crouched in\nact to spring, when, with the rapidity of lightning, Huon plunged his\nsword into his side. He rolled over on the plain in the agonies of\ndeath.\n\nThey raised the knight from the ground, and Sherasmin hastened to offer\nhim a draught from the fairy cup. The wine sparkled to the brim, and\nthe warrior put forth his lips to quaff it, but it shrunk away, and did\nnot even wet his lips. He dashed the goblet angrily on the ground, with\nan exclamation of resentment. This incident did not tend to make either\nparty more acceptable to the other; and what followed was worse. For\nwhen Huon said, \"Sir knight, thank God for your deliverance,\"--\"Thank\nMahomet, rather, yourself,\" said he, \"for he has led you this day to\nrender service to no less a personage than the Prince of Hyrcania.\"\n\nAt the sound of this blasphemy Huon drew his sword and turned upon the\nmiscreant, who, little disposed to encounter the prowess of which he\nhad so lately seen proof, betook himself to flight. He ran to Huon's\nhorse, and lightly vaulting on his back, clapped spurs to his side, and\ngalloped out of sight.\n\nThe adventure was vexatious, yet there was no remedy. The prince and\nSherasmin continued their journey with the aid of the remaining horse\nas they best might. At length, as evening set in, they descried the\npinnacles and towers of a great city full before them, which they knew\nto be the famous city of Bagdad.\n\nThey were well-nigh exhausted with fatigue when they arrived at its\nprecincts, and in the darkness, not knowing what course to take, were\nglad to meet an aged woman, who, in reply to their inquiries, offered\nthem such accommodations as her cottage could supply. They thankfully\naccepted the offer, and entered the low door. The good dame busily\nprepared the best fare her stores supplied,--milk, figs, and\npeaches,--deeply regretting that the bleak winds had nipped her\nalmond-trees.\n\nSir Huon thought he had never in his life tasted any fare so good. The\nold lady talked while her guests ate. She doubted not, she said, they\nhad come to be present at the great feast in honor of the marriage of\nthe Sultan's daughter, which was to take place on the morrow. They\nasked who the bridegroom was to be, and the old lady answered, \"The\nPrince of Hyrcania,\" but added, \"Our princess hates him, and would\nrather wed a dragon than him.\" \"How know you that?\" asked Huon; and the\ndame informed him that she had it from the princess herself, who was\nher foster-child. Huon inquired the reason of the princess's aversion;\nand the woman pleased to find her chat excite so much interest, replied\nthat it was all in consequence of a dream. \"A dream!\" exclaimed Huon.\n\"Yes! a dream. She dreamed that she was a hind, and that the Prince, as\na hunter, was pursuing her, and had almost overtaken her, when a\nbeautiful dwarf appeared in view, drawn in a golden car, having by his\nside a young man of yellow hair and fair complexion, like one from a\nforeign land. She dreamed that the car stopped where she stood, and\nthat, having resumed her own form, she was about to ascend it, when\nsuddenly it faded from her view, and with it the dwarf and the\nfair-haired youth. But from her heart that vision did not fade, and\nfrom that time her affianced bridegroom, the Hyrcanian prince, had\nbecome odious to her sight. Yet the Sultan, her father, by no means\nregarding such a cause as sufficient to prevent the marriage, had named\nthe morrow as the time when it should be solemnized, in presence of his\ncourt and many princes of the neighboring countries, whom the fame of\nthe princess's beauty and the bridegroom's splendor had brought to the\nscene.\"\n\nWe may suppose this conversation woke a tumult of thoughts in the\nbreast of Huon. Was it not clear that Providence led him on, and\ncleared the way for his happy success? Sleep did not early visit the\neyes of Huon that night; but, with the sanguine temper of youth, he\nindulged his fancy in imagining the sequel of his strange experience.\n\nThe next day, which he could not but regard as the decisive day of his\nfate, he prepared to deliver the message of Charlemagne. Clad in his\narmor, fortified with his ivory horn and his ring, he reached the\npalace of Gaudisso when the guests were assembled at the banquet. As he\napproached the gate a voice called on all true believers to enter; and\nHuon, the brave and faithful Huon, in his impatience passed in under\nthat false pretention. He had no sooner passed the barrier than he felt\nashamed of his baseness, and was overwhelmed with regret. To make\namends for his fault he ran forward to the second gate, and cried to\nthe porter, \"Dog of a misbeliever, I command you in the name of Him who\ndied on the cross, open to me!\" The points of a hundred weapons\nimmediately opposed his passage. Huon then remembered for the first\ntime the ring he had received from his uncle, the Governor. He produced\nit, and demanded to be led to the Sultan's presence. The officer of the\nguard recognized the ring, made a respectful obeisance, and allowed him\nfree entrance. In the same way he passed the other doors to the rich\nsaloon where the great Sultan was at dinner with his tributary princes.\nAt sight of the ring the chief attendant led Huon to the head of the\nhall, and introduced him to the Sultan and his princes as the\nambassador of Charlemagne. A seat was provided for him near the royal\nparty.\n\nThe Prince of Hyrcania, the same whom Huon had rescued from the lion,\nand who was the destined bridegroom of the beautiful Clarimunda, sat on\nthe Sultan's right hand, and the princess herself on his left. It\nchanced that Huon found himself near the seat of the princess, and\nhardly were the ceremonies of reception over before he made haste to\nfulfill the commands of Charlemagne by imprinting a kiss upon her rosy\nlips, and after that a second, not by command, but by good will. The\nPrince of Hyrcania cried out, \"Audacious infidel! take the reward of\nthy insolence!\" and aimed a blow at Huon, which, if it had reached him,\nwould have brought his embassy to a speedy termination. But the ingrate\nfailed of his aim, and Huon punished his blasphemy and ingratitude at\nonce by a blow which severed his head from his body.\n\nSo suddenly had all this happened that no hand had been raised to\narrest it; but now Gaudisso cried out, \"Seize the murderer!\" Huon was\nhemmed in on all sides, but his redoubtable sword kept the crowd of\ncourtiers at bay. But he saw new combatants enter, and could not hope\nto maintain his ground against so many. He recollected his horn, and\nraising it to his lips, blew a blast almost as loud as that of Roland\nat Roncesvalles. It was in vain. Oberon heard it; but the sin of which\nHuon had been guilty in bearing, though but for a moment, the character\nof a believer in the false prophet, had put it out of Oberon's power to\nhelp him. Huon, finding himself deserted, and conscious of the cause,\nlost his strength and energy, was seized, loaded with chains, and\nplunged into a dungeon.\n\nHis life was spared for the time, merely that he might be reserved for\na more painful death. The Sultan meant that, after being made to feel\nall the torments of hunger and despair, he should be flayed alive.\n\nBut an enchanter more ancient and more powerful than Oberon himself\ninterested himself for the brave Huon. The enchanter was Love. The\nPrincess Clarimunda learned with horror the fate to which the young\nprince was destined. By the aid of her governante she gained over the\nkeeper of the prison, and went herself to lighten the chains of her\nbeloved. It was her hand that removed his fetters, from her he received\nsupplies of food to sustain a life which he devoted from thenceforth\nwholly to her. After the most tender explanations the princess\ndeparted, promising to repeat her visit on the morrow.\n\nThe next day she came according to promise, and again brought supplies\nof food. These visits were continued during a whole month. Huon was too\ngood a son of the Church to forget that the amiable princess was a\nSaracen, and he availed himself of these interviews to instruct her in\nthe true faith. How easy it is to believe the truth when uttered by the\nlips of those we love! Clarimunda ere long professed her entire belief\nin the Christian doctrines, and desired to be baptized.\n\nMeanwhile the Sultan had repeatedly inquired of the jailer how his\nprisoner bore the pains of famine, and learned to his surprise that he\nwas not yet much reduced thereby. On his repeating the inquiry, after a\nshort interval, the keeper replied that the prisoner had died suddenly,\nand had been buried in the cavern. The Sultan could only regret that he\nhad not sooner ordered the execution of the sentence.\n\nWhile these things were going on the faithful Sherasmin, who had not\naccompanied Huon in his last adventure, but had learned by common rumor\nthe result of it, came to the court in hopes of doing something for the\nrescue of his master. He presented himself to the Sultan as Solario,\nhis nephew. Guadisso received him with kindness, and all the courtiers\nloaded him with attentions. He soon found means to inform himself how\nthe Princess regarded the brave but unfortunate Huon, and having made\nhimself known to her, confidence was soon established between them.\nClarimunda readily consented to assist in the escape of Huon, and to\nquit with him her father's court to repair to that of Charlemagne.\nTheir united efforts had nearly perfected their arrangement, a vessel\nwas secretly prepared, and all things in forwardness for the flight,\nwhen an unlooked-for obstacle presented itself. Huon himself positively\nrefused to go leaving the orders of Charlemagne unexecuted.\n\nSherasmin was in despair. Bitterly he complained of the fickleness and\ncruelty of Oberon in withdrawing his aid at the very crisis when it was\nmost necessary. Earnestly he urged every argument to satisfy the prince\nthat he had done enough for honor, and could not be held bound to\nachieve impossibilities. But all was of no avail, and he knew not which\nway to turn, when one of those events occurred which are so frequent\nunder Turkish despotisms. A courier arrived at the court of the Sultan,\nbearing the ring of his sovereign, the mighty Agrapard, Caliph of\nArabia, and bringing the bow-string for the neck of Gaudisso. No reason\nwas assigned; none but the pleasure of the Caliph is ever required in\nsuch cases; but it was suspected that the bearer of the bow-string had\npersuaded the Caliph that Gaudisso, whose rapacity was well known, had\naccumulated immense treasures, which he had not duly shared with his\nsovereign, and thus had obtained an order to supersede him in his\nEmirship.\n\nThe body of Gaudisso would have been cast out a prey to dogs and\nvultures, had not Sherasmin, under the character of nephew of the\ndeceased, been permitted to receive it, and give it decent burial,\nwhich he did, but not till he had taken possession of the beard and\ngrinders, agreeably to the orders of Charlemagne.\n\nNo obstacle now stood in the way of the lovers and their faithful\nfollower in returning to France. They sailed, taking Rome in their way,\nwhere the Holy Father himself blessed the union of his nephew, Duke\nHuon of Bordeaux, with the Princess Clarimunda.\n\nSoon afterward they arrived in France, where Huon laid his trophies at\nthe feet of Charlemagne, and, being restored to the favor of the\nEmperor, hastened to present himself and his bride to the Duchess, his\nmother, and to the faithful liegemen of his province of Guienne and his\ncity of Bordeaux, where the pair were received with transports of joy.\n\n\n\nOGIER, THE DANE\n\nOGIER, the Dane, was the son of Geoffrey, who wrested Denmark from the\nPagans, and reigned the first Christian king of that country. When\nOgier was born, and before he was baptized, six ladies of ravishing\nbeauty appeared all at once in the chamber of the infant. They\nencircled him, and she who appeared the eldest took him in her arms,\nkissed him, and laid her hand upon his heart. \"I give you,\" said she,\n\"to be the bravest warrior of your times.\" She delivered the infant to\nher sister, who said, \"I give you abundant opportunities to display\nyour valor.\" \"Sister,\" said the third lady, \"you have given him a\ndangerous boon; I give him that he shall never be vanquished.\" The\nfourth sister added, as she laid her hand upon his eyes and his mouth,\n\"I give you the gift of pleasing.\" The fifth said, \"Lest all these\ngifts serve only to betray, I give you sensibility to return the love\nyou inspire.\" Then spoke Morgana, the youngest and handsomest of the\ngroup. \"Charming creature, I claim you for my own; and I give you not\nto die till you shall have come to pay me a visit in my isle of\nAvalon.\" Then she kissed the child and departed with her sisters.\n\nAfter this the king had the child carried to the font and baptized with\nthe name of Ogier.\n\nIn his education nothing was neglected to elevate him to the standard\nof a perfect knight, and render him accomplished in all the arts\nnecessary to make him a hero.\n\nHe had hardly reached the age of sixteen years when Charlemagne, whose\npower was established over all the sovereigns of his time, recollected\nthat Geoffroy, Ogier's father, had omitted to render the homage due to\nhim as Emperor, and sovereign lord of Denmark, one of the grand fiefs\nof the empire. He accordingly sent an embassy to demand of the king of\nDenmark this homage, and on receiving a refusal, couched in haughty\nterms, sent an army to enforce the demand. Geoffroy, after an\nunsuccessful resistance, was forced to comply, and as a pledge of his\nsincerity delivered Ogier, his eldest son, a hostage to Charles, to be\nbrought up at his court. He was placed in charge of the Duke Namo of\nBavaria, the friend of his father, who treated him like his own son.\n\nOgier grew up more and more handsome and amiable every day. He\nsurpassed in form, strength, and address all the noble youths his\ncompanions; he failed not to be present at all tourneys; he was\nattentive to the elder knights, and burned with impatience to imitate\nthem. Yet his heart rose sometimes in secret against his condition as a\nhostage, and as one apparently forgotten by his father.\n\nThe King of Denmark, in fact, was at this time occupied with new loves.\nOgier's mother having died, he had married a second wife, and had a son\nnamed Guyon. The new queen had absolute power over her husband, and\nfearing that, if he should see Ogier again, he would give him the\npreference over Guyon, she had adroitly persuaded him to delay\nrendering his homage to Charlemagne, till now four years had passed\naway since the last renewal of that ceremony. Charlemagne, irritated at\nthis delinquency, drew closer the bonds of Ogier's captivity until he\nshould receive a response from the king of Denmark to a fresh summons\nwhich he caused to be sent to him.\n\nThe answer of Geoffroy was insulting and defiant, and the rage of\nCharlemagne was roused in the highest degree. He was at first disposed\nto wreak his vengeance upon Ogier, his hostage; but at the entreaties\nof Duke Namo, who felt towards his pupil like a father, consented to\nspare his life, if Ogier would swear fidelity to him as his liege-lord,\nand promise not to quit his court without his permission. Ogier\naccepted these terms, and was allowed to retain all the freedom he had\nbefore enjoyed.\n\nThe Emperor would have immediately taken arms to reduce his disobedient\nvassal, if he had not been called off in another direction by a message\nfrom Pope Leo, imploring his assistance. The Saracens had landed in the\nneighborhood of Rome, occupied Mount Janiculum, and prepared to pass\nthe Tiber and carry fire and sword to the capital of the Christian\nworld. Charlemagne hesitated not to yield to the entreaties of the\nPope. He speedily assembled an army, crossed the Alps, traversed Italy,\nand arrived at Spoleto, a strong place to which the Pope had retired.\nLeo, at the head of his Cardinals, advanced to meet him, and rendered\nhim homage, as to the son of Pepin, the illustrious protector of the\nHoly See, coming, as his father had done, to defend it in the hour of\nneed.\n\nCharlemagne stopped but two days at Spoleto, and learning that the\nInfidels, having rendered themselves masters of Rome, were besieging\nthe Capitol, which could not long hold out against them, marched\npromptly to attack them.\n\nThe advanced posts of the army were commanded by Duke Namo, on whom\nOgier waited as his squire. He did not yet bear arms, not having\nreceived the order of knighthood. The Oriflamme, the royal standard,\nwas borne by a knight named Alory, who showed himself unworthy of the\nhonor.\n\nDuke Namo, seeing a strong body of the Infidels advancing to attack\nhim, gave the word to charge them. Ogier remained in the rear, with the\nother youths, grieving much that he was not permitted to fight. Very\nsoon he saw Alory lower the Oriflamme, and turn his horse in flight.\nOgier pointed him out to the young men, and seizing a club, rushed upon\nAlory and struck him from his horse. Then, with his companions, he\ndisarmed him, clothed himself in his armor, raised the Oriflamme, and\nmounting the horse of the unworthy knight, flew to the front rank,\nwhere he joined Duke Namo, drove back the Infidels, and carried the\nOriflamme quite through their broken ranks. The Duke, thinking it was\nAlory, whom he had not held in high esteem, was astonished at his\nstrength and valor. Ogier's young companions imitated him, supplying\nthemselves with armor from the bodies of the slain; they followed Ogier\nand carried death into the ranks of the Saracens, who fell back in\nconfusion upon their main body.\n\nDuke Namo now ordered a retreat, and Ogier obeyed with reluctance, when\nthey perceived Charlemagne advancing to their assistance. The combat\nnow became general, and was more terrible than ever. Charlemagne had\noverthrown Corsuble, the commander of the Saracens, and had drawn his\nfamous sword, Joyeuse, to cut off his head, when two Saracen knights\nset upon him at once, one of whom slew his horse, and the other\noverthrew the Emperor on the sand. Perceiving by the eagle on his\ncasque who he was, they dismounted in haste to give him his deathblow.\nNever was the life of the Emperor in such peril. But Ogier, who saw him\nfall, flew to his rescue. Though embarrassed with the Oriflamme, he\npushed his horse against one of the Saracens and knocked him down; and\nwith his sword dealt the other so vigorous a blow that he fell stunned\nto the earth. Then helping the Emperor to rise, he remounted him on the\nhorse of one of the fallen knights. \"Brave and generous Alory!\" Charles\nexclaimed, \"I owe to you my honor and my life!\" Ogier made no answer;\nbut, leaving Charlemagne surrounded by a great many of the knights who\nhad flown to his succor, he plunged into the thickest ranks of the\nenemy, and carried the Oriflamme, followed by a gallant train of\nyouthful warriors, till the standard of Mahomet turned in retreat, and\nthe Infidels sought safety in their intrenchments.\n\nThen the good Archbishop Turpin laid aside his helmet and his bloody\nsword (for he always felt that he was clearly in the line of his duty\nwhile slaying Infidels), took his mitre and his crosier, and intoned Te\nDeum.\n\nAt this moment Ogier, covered with blood and dust, came to lay the\nOriflamme at the feet of the Emperor. He was followed by a train of\nwarriors of short stature, who walked ill at ease loaded with armor too\nheavy for them. Ogier knelt at the feet of Charlemagne, who embraced\nhim, calling him Alory, while Turpin from the height of the altar,\nblessed him with all his might. Then young Orlando, son of the Count\nMilone, and nephew of Charlemagne, no longer able to endure this\nmisapprehension, threw down his helmet, and ran to unlace Ogier's,\nwhile the other young men laid aside theirs. Our author says he cannot\nexpress the surprise, the admiration, and the tenderness of the Emperor\nand his peers. Charles folded Ogier in his arms, and the happy fathers\nof those brave youths embraced them with tears of joy. The good Duke\nNamo stepped forward, and Charlemagne yielded Ogier to his embrace.\n\"How much do I owe you,\" he said, \"good and wise friend, for having\nrestrained my anger! My dear Ogier! I owe you my life! My sword leaps\nto touch your shoulder, yours and those of your brave young friends.\"\nAt these words he drew that famous sword, Joyeuse, and while Ogier and\nthe rest knelt before him, gave them the accolade conferring on them\nthe order of knighthood. The young Orlando and his cousin Oliver could\nnot refrain, even in the presence of the Emperor, from falling upon\nOgier's neck, and pledging with him that brotherhood in arms, so dear\nand so sacred to the knights of old times; but Charlot, the Emperor's\nson, at the sight of the glory with which Ogier had covered himself,\nconceived the blackest jealousy and hate.\n\nThe rest of the day and the next were spent in the rejoicings of the\narmy. Turpin in a solemn service implored the favor of Heaven upon the\nyouthful knights, and blessed the white armor which was prepared for\nthem. Duke Namo presented them with golden spurs, Charles himself\ngirded on their swords. But what was his astonishment when he examined\nthat intended for Ogier! The loving Fairy, Morgana, had had the art to\nchange it, and to substitute one of her own procuring, and when Charles\ndrew it out of the scabbard, these words appeared written on the steel:\n\"My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and\nDurindana.\" Charles saw that a superior power watched over the\ndestinies of Ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and Ogier\npromised him the devotion of a son. Happy had it been for both if they\nhad always continued mindful of their promises.\n\nThe Saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when Carahue,\nKing of Mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown by Ogier at\nthe time of the rescue of Charlemagne, determined to challenge him to\nsingle combat. With that view he assumed the dress of a herald,\nresolved to carry his own message. The French knights admired his air,\nand said to one another that he seemed more fit to be a knight than a\nbearer of messages.\n\nCarahue began by passing the warmest eulogium upon the knight who bore\nthe Oriflamme on the day of the battle, and concluded by saying that\nCarahue, King of Mauritania, respected that knight so much that he\nchallenged him to the combat.\n\nOgier had risen to reply, when he was interrupted by Charlot, who said\nthat the gage of the King of Mauritania could not fitly be received by\na vassal, living in captivity; by which he meant Ogier, who was at that\ntime serving as hostage for his father. Fire flashed from the eyes of\nOgier, but the presence of the Emperor restrained his speech, and he\nwas calmed by the kind looks of Charlemagne, who said, with an angry\nvoice, \"Silence, Charlot! By the life of Bertha, my queen, he who has\nsaved my life is as dear to me as yourself. Ogier,\" he continued, \"you\nare no longer a hostage. Herald! report my answer to your master, that\nnever does knight of my court refuse a challenge on equal terms. Ogier,\nthe Dane, accepts of his, and I myself am his security.\"\n\nCarahue, profoundly bowing, replied, \"My lord, I was sure that the\nsentiments of so great a sovereign as yourself would be worthy of your\nhigh and brilliant fame; I shall report your answer to my master, who I\nknow admires you, and unwillingly takes arms against you.\" Then,\nturning to Charlot, whom he did not know as the son of the Emperor, he\ncontinued, \"As for you, Sir Knight, if the desire of battle inflames\nyou, I have it in charge from Sadon, cousin of the King of Mauritania,\nto give the like defiance to any French knights who will grant him the\nhonor of the combat.\"\n\nCharlot, inflamed with rage and vexation at the public reproof which he\nhad just received, hesitated not to deliver his gage. Carahue received\nit with Ogier's, and it was agreed that the combat should be on the\nnext day in a meadow environed by woods and equally distant from both\narmies.\n\nThe perfidious Charlot meditated the blackest treason. During the night\nhe collected some knights unworthy of the name, and like himself in\ntheir ferocious manners; he made them swear to avenge his injuries,\narmed them in black armor, and sent them to lie in ambush in the wood,\nwith orders to make a pretended attack upon the whole party, but in\nfact, to lay heavy hands upon Ogier and the two Saracens.\n\nAt the dawn of day Sadon and Carahue, attended only by two pages to\ncarry their spears, took their way to the appointed meadow; and Charlot\nand Ogier repaired thither also, but by different paths. Ogier advanced\nwith a calm air, saluted courteously the two Saracen knights, and\njoined them in arranging the terms of combat.\n\nWhile this was going on the perfidious Charlot remained behind and gave\nhis men the signal to advance. That cowardly troop issued from the wood\nand encompassed the three knights. All three were equally surprised at\nthe attack, but neither of them suspected the other to have any hand in\nthe treason. Seeing the attack made equally upon them all, they united\ntheir efforts to resist it, and made the most forward of the assailants\nbite the dust. Cortana fell on no one without inflicting a mortal\nwound, but the sword of Carahue was not of equal temper and broke in\nhis hands. At the same instant his horse was slain, and Carahue fell,\nwithout a weapon, and entangled with his prostrate horse. Ogier, who\nsaw it, ran to his defence, and leaping to the ground covered the\nprince with his shield, supplied him with the sword of one of the\nfallen ruffians, and would have him mount his own horse. At that moment\nCharlot, inflamed with rage, pushed his horse upon Ogier, knocked him\ndown, and would have run him through with his lance if Sadon, who saw\nthe treason, had not sprung upon him and thrust him back. Carahue leapt\nlightly upon the horse which Ogier presented him, and had time only to\nexclaim, \"Brave Ogier, I am no longer your enemy, I pledge to you an\neternal friendship,\" when numerous Saracen knights were seen\napproaching, having discovered the treachery, and Charlot with his\nfollowers took refuge in the wood.\n\nThe troop which advanced was commanded by Dannemont, the exiled king of\nDenmark, whom Geoffroy, Ogier's father, had driven from his throne and\ncompelled to take refuge with the Saracens. Learning who Ogier was, he\ninstantly declared him his prisoner, in spite of the urgent\nremonstrances and even threats of Carahue and Sadon, and carried him\nunder a strong guard to the Saracen camp. Here he was at first\nsubjected to the most rigorous captivity, but Carahue and Sadon\ninsisted so vehemently on his release, threatening to turn their arms\nagainst their own party if it was not granted, while Dannemont as\neagerly opposed the measure, that Corsuble, the Saracen commander,\nconsented to a middle course, and allowed Ogier the freedom of his\ncamp, upon his promise not to leave it without permission.\n\nCarahue was not satisfied with this partial concession. He left the\ncity next morning, proceeded to the camp of Charlemagne, and demanded\nto be led to the Emperor. When he reached his presence he dismounted\nfrom his horse, took off his helmet, drew his sword, and holding it by\nthe blade presented it to Charlemagne as he knelt before him.\n\n\"Illustrious prince,\" he said, \"behold before you the herald who\nbrought the challenge to your knights from the King of Mauritania. The\ncowardly old King Dannemont has made the brave Ogier prisoner, and has\nprevailed on our general to refuse to give him up. I come to make\namends for this ungenerous conduct by yielding myself, Carahue, King of\nMauritania, your prisoner.\"\n\nCharlemagne, with all his peers, admired the magnanimity of Carahue; he\nraised him, embraced him, and restored to him his sword. \"Prince,\" said\nhe, \"your presence and the bright example you afford my knights\nconsoles me for the loss of Ogier. Would to God you might receive our\nholy faith, and be wholly united with us.\" All the lords of the court,\nled by Duke Namo, paid their respects to the King of Mauritania.\nCharlot only failed to appear, fearing to be recognized as a traitor;\nbut the heart of Carahue was too noble to pierce that of Charlemagne by\ntelling him the treachery of his son.\n\nMeanwhile the Saracen army was rent by discord. The troops of Carahue\nclamored against the commander-in-chief because their king was left in\ncaptivity. They even threatened to desert the cause and turn their arms\nagainst their allies. Charlemagne pressed the siege vigorously, till at\nlength the Saracen leaders found themselves compelled to abandon the\ncity and betake themselves to their ships. A truce was made; Ogier was\nexchanged for Carahue, and the two friends embraced one another with\nvows of perpetual brotherhood. The Pope was reestablished in his\ndominions, and Italy being tranquil, Charlemagne returned with his\npeers and their followers to France.\n\n\n\nOGIER, THE DANE (Continued)\n\nCHARLEMAGNE had not forgotten the offence of Geoffroy, the King of\nDenmark, in withholding homage, and now prepared to enforce submission.\nBut at this crisis he was waited upon by an embassy from Geoffroy,\nacknowledging his fault, and craving assistance against an army of\ninvaders who had attacked his states with a force which he was unable\nto repel. The soul of Charlemagne was too great to be implacable, and\nhe took this opportunity to test that of Ogier, who had felt acutely\nthe unkindness of his father, in leaving him, without regard or notice,\nfifteen years in captivity. Charles asked Ogier whether, in spite of\nhis father's neglect, he was disposed to lead an army to his\nassistance. He replied, \"A son can never be excused from helping his\nfather by any cause short of death.\" Charlemagne placed an army of a\nthousand knights under the command of Ogier, and great numbers more\nvolunteered to march under so distinguished a leader. He flew to the\nsuccor of his father, repelled the invaders, and drove them in\nconfusion to their vessels. Ogier then hastened to the capital, but as\nhe drew near the city he heard all the bells sounding a knell. He soon\nlearned the cause; it was the obsequies of Geoffroy, the King. Ogier\nfelt keenly the grief of not having been permitted to embrace his\nfather once more, and to learn his latest commands; but he found that\nhis father had declared him heir to his throne. He hastened to the\nchurch where the body lay; he knelt and bathed the lifeless form with\nhis tears. At that moment a celestial light beamed all around, and a\nvoice of an angel said, \"Ogier, leave thy crown to Guyon, thy brother,\nand bear no other title than that of 'The Dane.' Thy destiny is\nglorious, and other kingdoms are reserved for thee.\" Ogier obeyed the\ndivine behest. He saluted his stepmother respectfully, and embracing\nhis brother, told him that he was content with his lot in being\nreckoned among the paladins of Charlemagne, and resigned all claims to\nthe crown of Denmark.\n\nOgier returned covered with glory to the court of Charlemagne, and the\nEmperor, touched with this proof of his attachment, loaded him with\ncaresses, and treated him almost as an equal.\n\nWe pass in silence the adventures of Ogier for several ensuing years,\nin which the fairy-gifts of his infancy showed their force in making\nhim successful in all enterprises, both of love and war. He married the\ncharming Belicene, and became the father of young Baldwin, a youth who\nseemed to inherit in full measure the strength and courage of his\nfather and the beauty of his mother. When the lad was old enough to be\nseparated from his mother, Ogier took him to court and presented him to\nCharlemagne, who embraced him and took him into his service. It seemed\nto Duke Namo, and all the elder knights, as if they saw in him Ogier\nhimself, as he was when a youth; and this resemblance won for the lad\ntheir kind regards. Even Charlot at first seemed to be fond of him,\nthough after a while the resemblance to Ogier which he noticed had the\neffect to excite his hatred.\n\nBaldwin was attentive to Charlot, and lost no occasion to be\nserviceable. The Prince loved to play chess, and Baldwin, who played\nwell, often made a party with him.\n\nOne day Charlot was nettled at losing two pieces in succession; he\nthought he could, by taking a piece from Baldwin, get some amends for\nhis loss; but Baldwin, seeing him fall into a trap which he had set for\nhim, could not help a slight laugh, as he said, \"Check-mate.\" Charlot\nrose in a fury, seized the rich and heavy chess-board, and dashed it\nwith all his strength on the head of Baldwin, who fell, and died where\nhe fell.\n\nFrightened at his own crime, and fearing the vengeance of the terrible\nOgier, Charlot concealed himself in the interior of the palace. A young\ncompanion of Baldwin hastened and informed Ogier of the event. He ran\nto the chamber, and beheld the body of his child bathed in blood, and\nit could not be concealed from him that Charlot gave the blow.\nTransported with rage, Ogier sought Charlot through the palace, and\nCharlot, feeling safe nowhere else, took refuge in the hall of\nCharlemagne, where he seated himself at table with Duke Namo and\nSalomon, Duke of Brittany. Ogier, with sword drawn, followed him to the\nvery table of the Emperor. When a cupbearer attempted to bar his way he\nstruck the cup from his hand and dashed the contents in the Emperor's\nface. Charles rose in a passion, seized a knife, and would have plunged\nit into his breast, had not Salomon and another baron thrown themselves\nbetween, while Namo, who had retained his ancient influence over Ogier,\ndrew him out of the room. Foreseeing the consequence of this violence,\npitying Ogier, and in his heart excusing him, Namo hurried him away\nbefore the guards of the palace could arrest him, made him mount his\nhorse, and leave Paris.\n\nCharlemagne called together his peers, and made them take an oath to do\nall in their power to arrest Ogier, and bring him to condign\npunishment. Ogier on his part sent messages to the Emperor, offering to\ngive himself up on condition that Charlot should be punished for his\natrocious crime. The Emperor would listen to no conditions, and went in\npursuit of Ogier at the head of a large body of soldiers. Ogier, on the\nother hand, was warmly supported by many knights, who pledged\nthemselves in his defence. The contest raged long, with no decisive\nresults. Ogier more than once had the Emperor in his power, but\ndeclined to avail himself of his advantage, and released him without\nconditions. He even implored pardon for himself, but demanded at the\nsame time the punishment of Charlot. But Charlemagne was too blindly\nfond of his unworthy son to subject him to punishment for the sake of\nconciliating one who had been so deeply injured.\n\nAt length, distressed at the blood which his friends had lost in his\ncause, Ogier dismissed his little army, and slipping away from those\nwho wished to attend him, took his course to rejoin the Duke Guyon, his\nbrother. On his way, having reached the forest of Ardennes, weary with\nlong travel, the freshness of a retired valley tempted him to lie down\nto take some repose. He unsaddled Beiffror, relieved himself of his\nhelmet, lay down on the turf, rested his head on his shield, and slept.\n\nIt so happened that Turpin, who occasionally recalled to mind that he\nwas Archbishop of Rheins, was at that time in the vicinity, making a\npastoral visit to the churches under his jurisdiction. But his dignity\nof peer of France, and his martial spirit, which caused him to be\nreckoned among the \"preux chevaliers\" of his time, forbade him to\ntravel without as large a retinue of knights as he had of clergymen.\nOne of these was thirsty, and knowing the fountain on the borders of\nwhich Ogier was reposing, he rode to it, and was struck by the sight of\na knight stretched on the ground. He hastened back, and let the\nArchbishop know, who approached the fountain, and recognized Ogier.\n\nThe first impulse of the good and generous Turpin was to save his\nfriend, for whom he felt the warmest attachment; but his archdeacons\nand knights, who also recognized Ogier, reminded the Archbishop of the\noath which the Emperor had exacted of them all. Turpin could not be\nfalse to his oath; but it was not without a groan that he permitted his\nfollowers to bind the sleeping knight. The Archbishop's attendants\nsecured the horse and arms of Ogier, and conducted their prisoner to\nthe Emperor at Soissons.\n\nThe Emperor had become so much embittered by Ogier's obstinate\nresistance, added to his original fault, that he was disposed to order\nhim to instant death. But Turpin, seconded by the good Dukes Namo and\nSalomon, prayed so hard for him that Charlemagne consented to remit a\nviolent death, but sentenced him to close imprisonment, under the\ncharge of the Archbishop, strictly limiting his food to one quarter of\na loaf of bread per day, with one piece of meat, and a quarter of a cup\nof wine. In this way he hoped to quickly put an end to his life without\nbringing on himself the hostility of the King of Denmark, and other\npowerful friends of Ogier. He exacted a new oath of Turpin to obey his\norder strictly.\n\nThe good Archbishop loved Ogier too well not to cast about for some\nmeans of saving his life, which he foresaw he would soon lose if\nsubjected to such scanty fare, for Ogier was seven feet tall, and had\nan appetite in proportion. Turpin remembered, moreover, that Ogier was\na true son of the Church, always zealous to propagate the faith and\nsubdue unbelievers; so he felt justified in practising on this occasion\nwhat in later times has been entitled \"mental reservation,\" without\nswerving from the letter of the oath which he had taken. This is the\nmethod he hit upon.\n\nEvery morning he had his prisoner supplied with a quarter of a loaf of\nbread, made of two bushels of flour, to this he added a quarter of a\nsheep or a fat calf, and he had a cup made which held forty pints of\nwine, and allowed Ogier a quarter of it daily.\n\nOgier's imprisonment lasted long; Charlemagne was astonished to hear,\nfrom time to time, that he still held out; and when he inquired more\nparticularly of Turpin, the good Archbishop, relying on his own\nunderstanding of the words, did not hesitate to affirm positively that\nhe allowed his prisoner no more than the permitted ration.\n\nWe forgot to say that, when Ogier was led prisoner to Soissons, the\nAbbot of Saint Faron, observing the fine horse Beiffror, and not having\nat the time any other favor to ask of Charlemagne, begged the Emperor\nto give him the horse, and had him taken to his abbey. He was impatient\nto try his new acquisition, and when he had arrived in his litter at\nthe foot of the mountain where the horse had been brought to meet him\nmounted him and rode onward. The horse, accustomed to bear the enormous\nweight of Ogier in his armor, when he perceived nothing on his back but\nthe light weight of the Abbot, whose long robes fluttered against his\nsides, ran away, making prodigious leaps over the steep acclivities of\nthe mountain till he reached the convent of Jouaire, where, in sight of\nthe Abbess and her nuns, he threw the Abbot, already half dead with\nfright, to the ground. The Abbot, bruised and mortified, revenged\nhimself on poor Beiffror, whom he condemned, in his wrath, to be given\nto the workmen to drag stones for a chapel that he was building near\nthe abbey. Thus, ill-fed, hard-worked, and often beaten, the noble\nhorse Beiffror passed the time while his master's imprisonment lasted.\n\nThat imprisonment would have been as long as his life if it had not\nbeen for some important events which forced the Emperor to set Ogier at\nliberty.\n\nThe Emperor learned at the same time that Carahue, King of Mauritania,\nwas assembling an army to come and demand the liberation of Ogier; that\nGuyon, King of Denmark, was prepared to second the enterprise with all\nhis forces; and, worse than all, that the Saracens, under Bruhier,\nSultan of Arabia, had landed in Gascony, taken Bordeaux, and were\nmarching with all speed for Paris.\n\nCharlemagne now felt how necessary the aid of Ogier was to him. But, in\nspite of the representations of Turpin, Namo, and Salomon, he could not\nbring himself to consent to surrender Charlot to such punishment as\nOgier should see fit to impose. Besides, he believed that Ogier was\nwithout strength and vigor, weakened by imprisonment and long\nabstinence.\n\nAt this crisis he received a message from Bruhier, proposing to put the\nissue upon the result of a combat between himself and the Emperor or\nhis champion; promising, if defeated, to withdraw his army. Charlemagne\nwould willingly have accepted the challenge, but his counsellors all\nopposed it. The herald was therefore told that the Emperor would take\ntime to consider his proposition, and give his answer the next day.\n\nIt was during this interval that the three Dukes succeeded in\nprevailing upon Charlemagne to pardon Ogier, and to send for him to\ncombat the puissant enemy who now defied him; but it was no easy task\nto persuade Ogier. The idea of his long imprisonment and the\nrecollection of his son, bleeding and dying in his arms by the blow of\nthe ferocious Charlot, made him long resist the urgency of his friends.\nThough glory called him to encounter Bruhier, and the safety of\nChristendom demanded the destruction of this proud enemy of the faith,\nOgier only yielded at last on condition that Charlot should be\ndelivered into his hands to be dealt with as he should see fit.\n\nThe terms were hard, but the danger was pressing, and Charlemagne, with\na returning sense of justice, and a strong confidence in the generous\nthough passionate soul of Ogier, at last consented to them.\n\nOgier was led into the presence of Charlemagne by the three peers. The\nEmperor, faithful to his word, had caused Charlot to be brought into\nthe hall where the high barons were assembled, his hands tied, and his\nhead uncovered. When the Emperor saw Ogier approach he took Charlot by\nthe arm, led him towards Ogier, and said these words: \"I surrender the\ncriminal; do with him as you think fit.\" Ogier, without replying,\nseized Charlot by the hair, forced him on his knees, and lifted with\nthe other hand his irresistible sword. Charlemagne, who expected to see\nthe head of his son rolling at his feet, shut his eyes and uttered a\ncry of horror.\n\nOgier had done enough. The next moment he raised Charlot, cut his\nbonds, kissed him on the mouth, and hastened to throw himself at the\nfeet of the Emperor.\n\nNothing can exceed the surprise and joy of Charlemagne at seeing his\nson unharmed and Ogier kneeling at his feet. He folded him in his arms,\nbathed him with tears, and exclaimed to his barons, \"I feel at this\nmoment that Ogier is greater than I.\" As for Charlot, his base soul\nfelt nothing but the joy of having escaped death; he remained such as\nhe had been, and it was not till some years afterwards he received the\npunishment he deserved, from the hands of Huon of Bordeaux, as we have\nseen in a former chapter.\n\n\n\nOGIER, THE DANE (Continued)\n\nWHEN Charlemagne had somewhat recovered his composure he was surprised\nto observe that Ogier appeared in good case, and had a healthy color in\nhis cheeks. He turned to the Archbishop, who could not help blushing as\nhe met his eye. \"By the head of Bertha, my queen,\" said Charlemagne,\n\"Ogier has had good quarters in your castle, my Lord Archbishop; but so\nmuch the more am I indebted to you.\" All the barons laughed and jested\nwith Turpin, who only said, \"Laugh as much as you please, my lords; but\nfor my part I am not sorry to see the arm in full vigor that is to\navenge us on the proud Saracen.\"\n\nCharlemagne immediately despatched his herald, accepting the challenge,\nand appointing the next day but one for the encounter. The proud and\ncrafty Bruhier laughed scornfully when he heard the reply accepting his\nchallenge, for he had a reliance on certain resources besides his\nnatural strength and skill. However, he swore by Mahomet to observe the\nconditions as proposed and agreed upon.\n\nOgier now demanded his armor, and it was brought to him in excellent\ncondition, for the good Turpin had kept it faithfully; but it was not\neasy to provide a horse for the occasion. Charlemagne had the best\nhorses of his stables brought out, except Blanchard, his own charger;\nbut all in vain, the weight of Ogier bent their backs to the ground. In\nthis embarrassment the Archbishop remembered that the Emperor had given\nBeiffror to the Abbot of St. Faron, and sent off a courier in haste to\nre-demand him.\n\nMonks are hard masters, and the one who directed the laborers at the\nabbey had but too faithfully obeyed the orders of the Abbot. Poor\nBeiffror was brought back, lean, spiritless, and chafed with the\nharness of the vile cart that he had had to draw so long. He carried\nhis head down, and trod heavily before Charlemagne; but when he heard\nthe voice of Ogier he raised his head, he neighed, his eyes flashed,\nhis former ardor showed itself by the force with which he pawed the\nground. Ogier caressed him, and the good steed seemed to return his\ncaresses; Ogier mounted him, and Beiffror, proud of carrying his master\nagain, leapt and curvetted with all his youthful vigor.\n\nNothing being now wanted, Charlemagne, at the head of his army, marched\nforth from the city of Paris, and occupied the hill of Montmartre,\nwhence the view extended over the plain of St. Denis, where the battle\nwas to be fought.\n\nWhen the appointed day came the Dukes Namo and Salomon, as seconds of\nOgier, accompanied him to the place marked out for the lists, and\nBruhier, with two distinguished Emirs, presented himself on the other\nside.\n\nBruhier was in high spirits, and jested with his friends, as he\nadvanced, upon the appearance of Beiffror. \"Is that the horse they\npresume to match with Marchevallee, the best steed that ever fed in the\nvales of Mount Atlas?\" But now the combatants, having met and saluted\neach other, ride apart to come together in full career. Beiffror flew\nover the plain, and met the adversary more than half-way. The lances of\nthe two combatants were shivered at the shock, and Bruhier was\nastonished to see almost at the same instant the sword of Ogier\ngleaming above his head. He parried it with his buckler, and gave Ogier\na blow on his helmet, who returned it with another, better aimed or\nbetter seconded by the temper of his blade, for it cut away part of\nBruhier's helmet, and with it his ear and part of his cheek. Ogier,\nseeing the blood, did not immediately repeat his blow, and Bruhier\nseized the moment to gallop off at one side. As he rode he took a vase\nof gold which hung at his saddle-bow, and bathed with its contents the\nwounded part. The blood instantly ceased to flow, the ear and the flesh\nwere restored quite whole, and the Dane was astonished to see his\nantagonist return to the ground as sound as ever.\n\nBruhier laughed at his amazement. \"Know,\" said he, \"that I possess the\nprecious balm that Joseph of Arimathea used upon the body of the\ncrucified one, whom you worship. If I should lose an arm I could\nrestore it with a few drops of this. It is useless for you to contend\nwith me. Yield yourself, and, as you appear to be a strong fellow, I\nwill make you first oarsman in one of my galleys.\"\n\nOgier, though boiling with rage, forgot not to implore the assistance\nof Heaven. \"O Lord!\" he exclaimed, \"suffer not the enemy of thy name to\nprofit by the powerful help of that which owes all its virtue to thy\ndivine blood.\" At these words he attacked Bruhier again with more vigor\nthan ever; both struck terrible blows, and made grievous wounds; but\nthe blood flowed from those of Ogier, while Bruhier stanched his by the\napplication of his balm. Ogier, desperate at the unequal contest,\ngrasped Cortana with both hands, and struck his enemy such a blow that\nit cleft his buckler, and cut off his arm with it; but Bruhier at the\nsame time launched one at Ogier, which, missing him, struck the head of\nBeiffror, and the good horse fell, and drew down his master in his fall.\n\nBruhier had time to leap to the ground, to pick up his arm and apply\nhis balsam; then, before Ogier had recovered his footing, he rushed\nforward with sword uplifted to complete his destruction.\n\nCharlemagne, from the height of Montmartre, seeing the brave Ogier in\nthis situation, groaned, and was ready to murmur against Providence;\nbut the good Turpin, raising his arms, with a faith like that of Moses,\ndrew down upon the Christian warrior the favor of Heaven.\n\nOgier, promptly disengaging himself, pressed Bruhier with so much\nimpetuosity that he drove him to a distance from his horse, to whose\nsaddle-bow the precious balm was suspended; and very soon Charlemagne\nsaw Ogier, now completely in the advantage, bring his enemy to his\nknees, tear off his helmet, and, with a sweep of his sword, strike his\nhead from his body.\n\nAfter the victory, Ogier seized Marchevallee, leaped upon his back, and\nbecame possessed of the precious flask, a few drops from which closed\nhis wounds and restored his strength. The French knights who had been\nBruhier's captives, now released, pressed round Ogier to thank him for\ntheir deliverance.\n\nCharlemagne and his nobles, as soon as their attention was relieved\nfrom the single combat, perceived from their elevated position an\nunusual agitation in the enemy's camp. They attributed it at first to\nthe death of their general, but soon the noise of arms, the cries of\ncombatants, and new standards which advanced, disclosed to them the\nfact that Bruhier's army was attacked by a new enemy.\n\nThe Emperor was right; it was the brave Carahue of Mauritania, who,\nwith an army, had arrived in France, resolved to attempt the liberation\nof Ogier, his brother in arms. Learning on his arrival the changed\naspect of affairs, he hesitated not to render a signal service to the\nEmperor, by attacking the army of Bruhier in the midst of the\nconsternation occasioned by the loss of its commander.\n\nOgier recognized the standard of his friend, and leaping upon\nMarchevallee, flew to aid his attack. Charlemagne followed with his\narmy; and the Saracen host, after an obstinate conflict, was forced to\nsurrender unconditionally.\n\nThe interview of Ogier and Carahue was such as might be anticipated of\ntwo such attached friends and accomplished knights. Charlemagne went to\nmeet them, embraced them, and putting the King of Mauritania on his\nright and Ogier on his left, returned with triumph to Paris. There the\nEmpress Bertha and the ladies of her court crowned them with laurels,\nand the sage and gallant Eginhard, chamberlain and secretary of the\nEmperor, wrote all these great events in his history.\n\nA few days after Guyon, King of Denmark, arrived in France with a\nchosen band of knights, and sent an ambassador to Charlemagne, to say\nthat he came, not as an enemy, but to render homage to him as the best\nknight of the time and the head of the Christian world. Charlemagne\ngave the ambassador a cordial reception, and mounting his horse, rode\nforward to meet the King of Denmark.\n\nThese great princes, being assembled at the court of Charles, held\ncouncil together, and the ancient and sage barons were called to join\nit.\n\nIt was decided that the united Danish and Mauritanian armies should\ncross the sea and carry the war to the country of the Saracens, and\nthat a thousand French knights should range themselves under the banner\nof Ogier, the Dane, who, though not a king, should have equal rank with\nthe two others.\n\nWe have not space to record all the illustrious actions performed by\nOgier and his allies in this war. Suffice it to say, they subdued the\nSaracens of Ptolemais and Judaea, and, erecting those regions into a\nkingdom, placed the crown upon the head of Ogier. Guyon and Carahue\nthen left him, to return to their respective dominions. Ogier adopted\nWalter, the son of Guyon of Denmark, to be his successor in his\nkingdom. He superintended his education, and saw the young prince grow\nup worthy of his cares. But Ogier, in spite of all the honors of his\nrank, often regretted the court of Charlemagne, the Duke Namo, and\nSalomon of Brittany, for whom he had the respect and attachment of a\nson. At last, finding Walter old enough to sustain the weight of\ngovernment, Ogier caused a vessel to be prepared secretly, and,\nattended only by one squire, left his palace by night, and embarked to\nreturn to France.\n\nThe vessel, driven by a fair wind, cut the sea with the swiftness of a\nbird; but on a sudden it deviated from its course, no longer obeyed the\nhelm, and sped fast towards a black promontory which stretched into the\nsea. This was a mountain of loadstone, and, its attractive power\nincreasing as the distance diminished, the vessel at last flew with the\nswiftness of an arrow towards it, and was dashed to pieces on its rocky\nbase. Ogier alone saved himself, and reached the shore on a fragment of\nthe wreck.\n\nOgier advanced into the country, looking for some marks of inhabitancy,\nbut found none. On a sudden he encountered two monstrous animals,\ncovered with glittering scales, accompanied by a horse breathing fire.\nOgier drew his sword and prepared to defend himself; but the monsters,\nterrific as they appeared, made no attempt to assail him, and the\nhorse, Papillon, knelt down, and appeared to court Ogier to mount upon\nhis back. Ogier hesitated not to see the adventure through; he mounted\nPapillon, who ran with speed, and soon cleared the rocks and precipices\nwhich hemmed in and concealed a beautiful landscape. He continued his\ncourse till he reached a magnificent palace, and, without allowing\nOgier time to admire it, crossed a grand court-yard adorned with\ncolonnades, and entered a garden, where, making his way through alleys\nof myrtle, he checked his course, and knelt down on the enamelled turf\nof a fountain.\n\nOgier dismounted and took some steps along the margin of the stream,\nbut was soon stopped by meeting a young beauty, such as they paint the\nGraces, and almost as lightly attired as they. At the same moment, to\nhis amazement, his armor fell off of its own accord. The young beauty\nadvanced with a tender air, and placed upon his head a crown of\nflowers. At that instant the Danish hero lost his memory; his combats,\nhis glory, Charlemagne and his court, all vanished from his mind; he\nsaw only Morgana, he desired nothing but to sigh forever at her feet.\n\nWe abridge the narrative of all the delights which Ogier enjoyed for\nmore than a hundred years. Time flew by, leaving no impression of its\nflight. Morgana's youthful charms did not decay, and Ogier had none of\nthose warnings of increasing years which less favored mortals never\nfail to receive. There is no knowing how long this blissful state might\nhave lasted, if it had not been for an accident, by which Morgana one\nday, in a sportive moment, snatched the crown from his head. That\nmoment Ogier regained his memory, and lost his contentment. The\nrecollection of Charlemagne, and of his own relatives and friends,\nsaddened the hours which he passed with Morgana. The fairy saw with\ngrief the changed looks of her lover. At last she drew from him the\nacknowledgment that he wished to go, at least for a time, to revisit\nCharles's court. She consented with reluctance, and with her own hands\nhelped to reinvest him with his armor. Papillon was led forth, Ogier\nmounted him, and, taking a tender adieu of the tearful Morgana, crossed\nat rapid speed the rocky belt which separated Morgana's palace from the\nborders of the sea. The sea-goblins which had received him at his\ncoming awaited him on the shore. One of them took Ogier on his back,\nand the other placing himself under Papillon, they spread their broad\nfins, and in a short time traversed the wide space that separates the\nisle of Avalon from France. They landed Ogier on the coast of\nLanguedoc, and then plunged into the sea and disappeared.\n\nOgier remounted on Papillon, who carried him across the kingdom almost\nas fast as he had passed the sea. He arrived under the walls of Paris,\nwhich he would scarcely have recognized if the high towers of St.\nGenevieve had not caught his eye. He went straight to the palace of\nCharlemagne, which seemed to him to have been entirely rebuilt. His\nsurprise was extreme, and increased still more on finding that he\nunderstood with difficulty the language of the guards and attendants in\nreplying to his questions; and seeing them smile as they tried to\nexplain to one another the language in which he addressed them.\nPresently the attention of some of the barons who were going to court\nwas attracted to the scene, and Ogier, who recognized the badges of\ntheir rank, addressed them, and inquired if the Dukes Namo and Salomon\nwere still residing at the Emperor's court. At this question the barons\nlooked at one another in amazement; and one of the eldest said to the\nrest, \"How much this knight resembles the portrait of my grand-uncle,\nOgier the Dane.\" \"Ah! my dear nephew, I am Ogier the Dane,\" said he;\nand he remembered that Morgana had told him that he was little aware of\nthe flight of time during his abode with her.\n\nThe barons, more astonished than ever, concluded to conduct him to the\nmonarch who then reigned, the great Hugh Capet.\n\nThe brave Ogier entered the palace without hesitation; but when, on\nreaching the royal hall, the barons directed him to make his obeisance\nto the King of France, he was astonished to see a man of short stature\nand large head, whose air, nevertheless, was noble and martial, seated\nupon the throne on which he had so often seen Charlemagne, the tallest\nand handsomest sovereign of his time.\n\nOgier recounted his adventures with simplicity and affectedness. Hugh\nCapet was slow to believe him; but Ogier recalled so many proofs and\ncircumstances, that at last he was forced to recognize the aged warrior\nto be the famous Ogier the Dane.\n\nThe king informed Ogier of the events which had taken place during his\nlong absence; that the line of Charlemagne was extinct; that a new\ndynasty had commenced; that the old enemies of the kingdom, the\nSaracens, were still troublesome; and that at that very time an army of\nthose miscreants was besieging the city of Chartres, to which he was\nabout to repair in a few days to its relief. Ogier, always inflamed\nwith the love of glory, offered the service of his arm, which the\nillustrious monarch accepted graciously, and conducted him to the\nqueen. The astonishment of Ogier was redoubled when he saw the new\nornaments and head-dresses of the ladies; still, the beautiful hair\nwhich they built up on their foreheads, and the feathers interwoven,\nwhich waved with so much grace, gave them a noble air that delighted\nhim. His admiration increased when, instead of the old Empress Bertha,\nhe saw a young queen who combined a majestic mien with the graces of\nher time of life, and manners candid and charming, suited to attach all\nhearts. Ogier saluted the youthful queen with a respect so profound\nthat many of the courtiers took him for a foreigner, or at least for\nsome nobleman brought up at a distance from Paris, who retained the\nmanners of what they called the old court.\n\nWhen the queen was informed by her husband that it was the celebrated\nOgier the Dane whom he presented to her, whose memorable exploits she\nhad often read in the chronicles of antiquity, her surprise was\nextreme, which was increased when she remarked the dignity of his\naddress, the animation and even the youthfulness of his countenance.\nThis queen had too much intelligence to believe hastily; proof alone\ncould compel her assent; and she asked him many questions about the old\ncourt of Charlemagne, and received such instructive and appropriate\nanswers as removed every doubt. It is to the corrections which Ogier\nwas at that time enabled to make to the popular narratives of his\nexploits that we are indebted for the perfect accuracy and\ntrustworthiness of all the details of our own history.\n\nKing Hugh Capet, having received that same evening couriers from the\ninhabitants of Chartres, informing him that they were hard pressed by\nthe besiegers, resolved to hasten with Ogier to their relief.\n\nOgier terminated this affair as expeditiously as he had so often done\nothers. The Saracens having dared to offer battle, he bore the\nOriflamme through the thickest of their ranks; Papillon, breathing fire\nfrom his nostrils, threw them into disorder, and Cortana, wielded by\nhis invincible arm, soon finished their overthrow.\n\nThe king, victorious over the Saracens, led back the Danish hero to\nParis, where the deliverer of France received the honors due to his\nvalor. Ogier continued some time at the court, detained by the favor of\nthe king and queen; but erelong he had the pain to witness the death of\nthe king. Then it was that, impressed with all the perfections which he\nhad discerned in the queen, he could not withhold the tender homage of\nthe offer of his hand. The queen would perhaps have accepted it, she\nhad even called a meeting of her great barons to deliberate on the\nproposition, when, the day before the meeting was to be held, at the\nmoment when Ogier was kneeling at her feet, she perceived a crown of\ngold which an invisible hand had placed on his brow, and in an instant\na cloud enveloped Ogier, and he disappeared forever from her sight. It\nwas Morgana, the fairy, whose jealousy was awakened at what she beheld,\nwho now resumed her power, and took him away to dwell with her in the\nisland of Avalon. There, in company with the great King Arthur of\nBritain, he still lives, and when his illustrious friend shall return\nto resume his ancient reign he will doubtless return with him, and\nshare his triumph.\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\nAbdalrahman, founder of the independent Ommiad (Saracenic) power in\nSpain, conquered at Tours by Charles Martel.\n\nAberfraw, scene of nuptials of Branwen and Matholch.\n\nAbsyrtus, younger brother of Medea.\n\nAbydos, a town on the Hellespont, nearly opposite to Sestos.\n\nAbyla, Mount, or Columna, a mountain in Morocco, near Ceuta, now called\nJebel Musa or Ape's Hill, forming the Northwestern extremity of the\nAfrican coast opposite Gibraltar (See Pillars of Hercules).\n\nAcestes, son of a Trojan woman who was sent by her father to Sicily,\nthat she might not be devoured by the monsters which infested the\nterritory of Troy.\n\nAcetes, Bacchanal captured by Pentheus.\n\nAchates, faithful friend and companion of Aeneas.\n\nAchelous, river-god of the largest river in Greece--his Horn of Plenty.\n\nAchilles, the hero of the Iliad, son of Peleus and of the Nereid\nThetis, slain by Paris.\n\nAcis, youth loved by Galatea and slain by Polyphemus.\n\nAcontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with Cydippe, the\ndaughter of a noble Athenian.\n\nAcrisius, son of Abas, king of Argos, grandson of Lynceus, the\ngreat-grandson of Danaus.\n\nActaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of Aristaeus and Autonoe, who,\nhaving seen Diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed by\nhis own dogs.\n\nAdmeta, daughter of Eurystheus, covets Hippolyta's girdle.\n\nAdmetus, king of Thessaly, saved from death by Alcestis.\n\nAdonis, a youth beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), and Proserpine; killed by\na boar.\n\nAdrastus, a king of Argos.\n\nAeacus, son of Zeus (Jupiter) and Aegina, renowned in all Greece for\nhis justice and piety.\n\nAeaea, Circe's island, visited by Ulysses.\n\nAeetes, or Aeeta, son of Helios (the Sun) and Perseis, and father of\nMedea and Absyrtus.\n\nAegeus, king of Athens.\n\nAegina, a rocky island in the middle of the Saronic gulf.\n\nAegis, shield or breastplate of Jupiter and Minerva.\n\nAegisthus, murderer of Agamemnon, slain by Orestes.\n\nAeneas, Trojan hero, son of Anchises and Aphrodite (Venus), and born on\nMount Ida, reputed first settler of Rome.\n\nAeneid, poem by Virgil, relating the wanderings of Aeneas from Troy to\nItaly.\n\nAe'olus, son of Hellen and the nymph Orseis, represented in Homer as\nthe happy ruler of the Aeolian Islands, to whom Zeus had given dominion\nover the winds.\n\nAesculapius, god of the medical art.\n\nAeson, father of Jason, made young again by Medea.\n\nAethiopians, inhabitants of the country south of Egypt.\n\nAethra, mother of Theseus by Aegeus.\n\nAetna, volcano in Sicily.\n\nAgamedes, brother of Trophonius, distinguished as an architect.\n\nAgamemnon, son of Plisthenis and grandson of Atreus, king of Mycenae,\nalthough the chief commander of the Greeks, is not the hero of the\nIliad, and in chivalrous spirit altogether inferior to Achilles.\n\nAgave, daughter of Cadmus, wife of Echion, and mother of Pentheus.\n\nAgenor, father of Europa, Cadmus, Cilix, and Phoenix.\n\nAglaia, one of the Graces.\n\nAgni, Hindu god of fire.\n\nAgramant, a king in Africa.\n\nAgrican, fabled king of Tartary, pursuing Angelica, finally killed by\nOrlando.\n\nAgrivain, one of Arthur's knights.\n\nAhriman, the Evil Spirit in the dual system of Zoroaster, See Ormuzd\n\nAjax, son of Telamon, king of Salamis, and grandson of Aeacus,\nrepresented in the Iliad as second only to Achilles in bravery.\n\nAlba, the river where King Arthur fought the Romans.\n\nAlba Longa, city in Italy founded by son of Aeneas.\n\nAlberich, dwarf guardian of Rhine gold treasure of the Nibelungs\n\nAlbracca, siege of.\n\nAlcestis, wife of Admetus, offered hersell as sacrifice to spare her\nhusband, but rescued by Hercules.\n\nAlcides (Hercules).\n\nAlcina, enchantress.\n\nAlcinous, Phaeacian king.\n\nAlcippe, daughter of Mars, carried off by Halirrhothrus.\n\nAlcmena, wife of Jupiter, and mother of Hercules.\n\nAlcuin, English prelate and scholar.\n\nAldrovandus, dwarf guardian of treasure.\n\nAlecto, one of the Furies.\n\nAlexander the Great, king of Macedonia, conqueror of Greece, Egypt,\nPersia, Babylonia, and India.\n\nAlfadur, a name for Odin.\n\nAlfheim, abode of the elves of light.\n\nAlice, mother of Huon and Girard, sons of Duke Sevinus.\n\nAlphenor, son of Niobe.\n\nAlpheus, river god pursuing Arethusa, who escaped by being changed to a\nfountain.\n\nAlthaea, mother of Meleager, whom she slew because he had in a quarrel\nkilled her brothers, thus disgracing \"the house of Thestius,\" her\nfather.\n\nAmalthea, nurse of the infant Jupiter in Crete.\n\nAmata, wife of Latinus, driven mad by Alecto.\n\nAmaury of Hauteville, false hearted Knight of Charlemagne.\n\nAmazons, mythical race of warlike women.\n\nAmbrosia, celestial food used by the gods.\n\nAmmon, Egyptian god of life identified by Romans with phases of\nJupiter, the father of gods.\n\nAmphiaraus, a great prophet and hero at Argos.\n\nAmphion, a musician, son of Jupiter and Antiope (See Dirce).\n\nAmphitrite, wife of Neptune.\n\nAmphyrsos, a small river in Thessaly.\n\nAmpyx, assailant of Perseus, turned to stone by seeing Gorgon's head.\n\nAmrita, nectar giving immortality.\n\nAmun, See Ammon\n\nAmymone, one of the fifty daughters of Danaus, and mother by Poseidon\n(Neptune) of Nauplius, the father of Palamedes.\n\nAnaxarete, a maiden of Cyprus, who treated her lover Iphis with such\nhaughtiness that he hanged himself at her door.\n\nAnbessa, Saracenic governor of Spain (725 AD).\n\nAnceus, one of the Argonauts.\n\nAnchises, beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), by whom he became the father of\nAeneas.\n\nAndraemon, husband of Dryope, saw her changed into a tree.\n\nAndret, a cowardly knight, spy upon Tristram.\n\nAndromache, wife of Hector\n\nAndromeda, daughter of King Cephas, delivered from monster by Perseus\n\nAneurin, Welsh bard\n\nAngelica, Princess of Cathay\n\nAnemone, short lived wind flower, created by Venus from the blood of\nthe slain Adonis\n\nAngerbode, giant prophetess, mother of Fenris, Hela and the Midgard\nSerpent\n\nAnglesey, a Northern British island, refuge of Druids fleeing from\nRomans\n\nAntaeus, giant wrestler of Libya, killed by Hercules, who, finding him\nstronger when thrown to the earth, lifted him into the air and\nstrangled him\n\nAntea, wife of jealous Proetus\n\nAntenor, descendants of, in Italy\n\nAnteros, deity avenging unrequited love, brother of Eros (Cupid)\n\nAnthor, a Greek\n\nAntigone, daughter of Aedipus, Greek ideal of filial and sisterly\nfidelity\n\nAntilochus, son of Nestor\n\nAntiope, Amazonian queen. See Dirce\n\nAnubis, Egyptian god, conductor of the dead to judgment\n\nApennines\n\nAphrodite See Venus, Dione, etc.\n\nApis, Egyptian bull god of Memphis\n\nApollo, god of music and song\n\nApollo Belvedere, famous antique statue in Vatican at Rome\n\nApples of the Hesperides, wedding gifts to Juno, guarded by daughters\nof Atlas and Hesperis, stolen by Atlas for Hercules.\n\nAquilo, or Boreas, the North Wind.\n\nAquitaine, ancient province of Southwestern France.\n\nArachne, a maiden skilled in weaving, changed to a spider by Minerva\nfor daring to compete with her.\n\nArcadia, a country in the middle of Peloponnesus, surrounded on all\nsides by mountains.\n\nArcady, star of, the Pole star.\n\nArcas, son of Jupiter and Callisto.\n\nArcher, constellation of the.\n\nAreopagus, court of the, at Athens.\n\nAres, called Mars by the Romans, the Greek god of war, and one of the\ngreat Olympian gods.\n\nArethusa, nymph of Diana, changed to a fountain.\n\nArgius king of Ireland, father of Isoude the Fair.\n\nArgo, builder of the vessel of Jason for the Argonautic expedition.\n\nArgolis, city of the Nemean games.\n\nArgonauts, Jason's crew seeking the Golden Fleece.\n\nArgos, a kingdom in Greece.\n\nArgus, of the hundred eyes, guardian of Io.\n\nAriadne, daughter of King Minos, who helped Theseus slay the Minotaur.\n\nArimanes SEE Ahriman.\n\nArimaspians, one-eyed people of Syria.\n\nArion, famous musician, whom sailors cast into the sea to rob him, but\nwhose lyric song charmed the dolphins, one of which bore him safely to\nland.\n\nAristaeus, the bee keeper, in love with Eurydice.\n\nArmorica, another name for Britain.\n\nArridano, a magical ruffian, slain by Orlando.\n\nArtemis SEE Diana\n\nArthgallo, brother of Elidure, British king.\n\nArthur, king in Britain about the 6th century.\n\nAruns, an Etruscan who killed Camilla.\n\nAsgard, home of the Northern gods.\n\nAshtaroth, a cruel spirit, called by enchantment to bring Rinaldo to\ndeath.\n\nAske, the first man, made from an ash tree.\n\nAstolpho of England, one of Charlemagne's knights.\n\nAstraea, goddess of justice, daughter of Astraeus and Eos.\n\nAstyages, an assailant of Perseus.\n\nAstyanax, son of Hector of Troy, established kingdom of Messina in\nItaly.\n\nAsuias, opponents of the Braminical gods.\n\nAtalanta, beautiful daughter of King of Icaria, loved and won in a foot\nrace by Hippomenes.\n\nAte, the goddess of infatuation, mischief and guilt.\n\nAthamas, son of Aeolus and Enarete, and king of Orchomenus, in Boeotia,\nSEE Ino\n\nAthene, tutelary goddess of Athens, the same as Minerva.\n\nAthens, the capital of Attica, about four miles from the sea, between\nthe small rivers Cephissus and Ilissus.\n\nAthor, Egyptian deity, progenitor of Isis and Osiris.\n\nAthos, the mountainous peninsula, also called Acte, which projects from\nChalcidice in Macedonia.\n\nAtlantes, foster father of Rogero, a powerful magician.\n\nAtlantis, according to an ancient tradition, a great island west of the\nPillars of Hercules, in the ocean, opposite Mount Atlas.\n\nAtlas, a Titan, who bore the heavens on his shoulders, as punishment\nfor opposing the gods, one of the sons of Iapetus.\n\nAtlas, Mount, general name for range in northern Africa.\n\nAtropos, one of the Fates\n\nAttica, a state in ancient Greece.\n\nAudhumbla, the cow from which the giant Ymir was nursed. Her milk was\nfrost melted into raindrops.\n\nAugean stables, cleansed by Hercules.\n\nAugeas, king of Elis.\n\nAugustan age, reign of Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar, famed for many\ngreat authors.\n\nAugustus, the first imperial Caesar, who ruled the Roman Empire 31\nBC--14 AD.\n\nAulis, port in Boeotia, meeting place of Greek expedition against Troy.\n\nAurora, identical with Eos, goddess of the dawn.\n\nAurora Borealis, splendid nocturnal luminosity in northern sky, called\nNorthern Lights, probably electrical.\n\nAutumn, attendant of Phoebus, the Sun.\n\nAvalon, land of the Blessed, an earthly paradise in the Western Seas,\nburial place of King Arthur.\n\nAvatar, name for any of the earthly incarnations of Vishnu, the\nPreserver (Hindu god).\n\nAventine, Mount, one of the Seven Hills of Rome.\n\nAvernus, a miasmatic lake close to the promontory between Cumae and\nPuteoli, filling the crater of an extinct volcano, by the ancients\nthought to be the entrance to the infernal regions.\n\nAvicenna, celebrated Arabian physician and philosopher.\n\nAya, mother of Rinaldo.\n\nAymon, Duke, father of Rinaldo and Bradamante.\n\n\nB\n\nBaal, king of Tyre.\n\nBabylonian River, dried up when Phaeton drove the sun chariot.\n\nBacchanali a, a feast to Bacchus that was permitted to occur but once\nin three years, attended by most shameless orgies.\n\nBacchanals, devotees and festal dancers of Bacchus.\n\nBacchus (Dionysus), god of wine and revelry.\n\nBadon, battle of, Arthur's final victory over the Saxons.\n\nBagdemagus, King, a knight of Arthur's time.\n\nBaldur, son of Odin, and representing in Norse mythology the sun god.\n\nBalisardo, Orlando's sword.\n\nBan, King of Brittany, ally of Arthur, father of Launcelot.\n\nBards, minstrels of Welsh Druids.\n\nBasilisk SEE Cockatrice\n\nBaucis, wife of Philemon, visited by Jupiter and Mercury.\n\nBayard, wild horse subdued by Rinaldo.\n\nBeal, Druids' god of life.\n\nBedivere, Arthur's knight.\n\nBedver, King Arthur's butler, made governor of Normandy.\n\nBedwyr, knightly comrade of Geraint.\n\nBelisarda, Rogero's sword.\n\nBellerophon, demigod, conqueror of the Chimaera.\n\nBellona, the Roman goddess of war, represented as the sister or wife of\nMars.\n\nBeltane, Druidical fire festival.\n\nBelus, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and Libya or Eurynome, twin brother of\nAgenor.\n\nBendigeid Vran, King of Britain.\n\nBeowulf, hero and king of the Swedish Geats.\n\nBeroe, nurse of Semele.\n\nBertha, mother of Orlando.\n\nBifrost, rainbow bridge between the earth and Asgard\n\nBladud, inventor, builder of the city of Bath.\n\nBlamor, a knight of Arthur.\n\nBleoberis, a knight of Arthur.\n\nBoeotia, state in ancient Greece, capital city Thebes.\n\nBohort, King, a knight of Arthur.\n\nBona Dea, a Roman divinity of fertility.\n\nBootes, also called Areas, son of Jupiter and Calisto, changed to\nconstellation of Ursa Major.\n\nBoreas, North wind, son of Aeolus and Aurora.\n\nBosporus (Bosphorus), the Cow-ford, named for Io, when as a heifer she\ncrossed that strait.\n\nBradamante, sister to Rinaldo, a female warrior.\n\nBrademagus, King, father of Sir Maleagans.\n\nBragi, Norse god of poetry.\n\nBrahma, the Creator, chief god of Hindu religion.\n\nBranwen, daughter of Llyr, King of Britain, wife of Mathclch.\n\nBreciliande, forest of, where Vivian enticed Merlin.\n\nBrengwain, maid of Isoude the Fair\n\nBrennus, son of Molmutius, went to Gaul, became King of the Allobroges.\n\nBreuse, the Pitiless, a caitiff knight.\n\nBriareus, hundred armed giant.\n\nBrice, Bishop, sustainer of Arthur when elected king.\n\nBrigliadoro, Orlando's horse.\n\nBriseis, captive maid belonging to Achilles.\n\nBritto, reputed ancestor of British people.\n\nBruhier, Sultan of Arabia.\n\nBrunello, dwarf, thief, and king\n\nBrunhild, leader of the Valkyrie.\n\nBrutus, great grandson of Aeneas, and founder of city of New Troy\n(London), SEE Pandrasus\n\nBryan, Sir, a knight of Arthur.\n\nBuddha, called The Enlightened, reformer of Brahmanism, deified teacher\nof self abnegation, virtue, reincarnation, Karma (inevitable sequence\nof every act), and Nirvana (beatific absorption into the Divine), lived\nabout\n\nByblos, in Egypt.\n\nByrsa, original site of Carthage.\n\n\nC\n\nCacus, gigantic son of Vulcan, slain by Hercules, whose captured cattle\nhe stole.\n\nCadmus, son of Agenor, king of Phoenicia, and of Telephassa, and\nbrother of Europa, who, seeking his sister, carried off by Jupiter, had\nstrange adventures--sowing in the ground teeth of a dragon he had\nkilled, which sprang up armed men who slew each other, all but five,\nwho helped Cadmus to found the city of Thebes.\n\nCaduceus, Mercury's staff.\n\nCadwallo, King of Venedotia (North Wales).\n\nCaerleon, traditional seat of Arthur's court.\n\nCaesar, Julius, Roman lawyer, general, statesman and author, conquered\nand consolidated Roman territory, making possible the Empire.\n\nCaicus, a Greek river.\n\nCairns, Druidical store piles.\n\nCalais, French town facing England.\n\nCalchas, wisest soothsayer among the Greeks at Troy.\n\nCaliburn, a sword of Arthur.\n\nCalliope, one of the nine Muses\n\nCallisto, an Arcadian nymph, mother of Arcas (SEE Bootes), changed by\nJupiter to constellation Ursa Minor.\n\nCalpe, a mountain in the south of Spain, on the strait between the\nAtlantic and Mediterranean, now Rock of Gibraltar.\n\nCalydon, home of Meleager.\n\nCalypso, queen of Island of Ogyia, where Ulysses was wrecked and held\nseven years.\n\nCamber, son of Brutus, governor of West Albion (Wales).\n\nCamelot, legendary place in England where Arthur's court and palace\nwere located.\n\nCamenae, prophetic nymphs, belonging to the religion of ancient Italy.\n\nCamilla, Volscian maiden, huntress and Amazonian warrior, favorite of\nDiana.\n\nCamlan, battle of, where Arthur was mortally wounded.\n\nCanterbury, English city.\n\nCapaneus, husband of Evadne, slain by Jupiter for disobedience.\n\nCapet, Hugh, King of France (987-996 AD).\n\nCaradoc Briefbras, Sir, great nephew of King Arthur.\n\nCarahue, King of Mauretania.\n\nCarthage, African city, home of Dido\n\nCassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, and twin sister of Helenus, a\nprophetess, who foretold the coming of the Greeks but was not believed.\n\nCassibellaunus, British chieftain, fought but not conquered by Caesar.\n\nCassiopeia, mother of Andromeda.\n\nCastalia, fountain of Parnassus, giving inspiration to Oracular\npriestess named Pythia.\n\nCastalian Cave, oracle of Apollo.\n\nCastes (India).\n\nCastor and Pollux--the Dioscuri, sons of Jupiter and Leda,--Castor a\nhorseman, Pollux a boxer (SEE Gemini).\n\nCaucasus, Mount\n\nCavall, Arthur's favorite dog.\n\nCayster, ancient river.\n\nCebriones, Hector's charioteer.\n\nCecrops, first king of Athens.\n\nCelestials, gods of classic mythology.\n\nCeleus, shepherd who sheltered Ceres, seeking Proserpine, and whose\ninfant son Triptolemus was in gratitude made great by Ceres.\n\nCellini, Benvenuto, famous Italian sculptor and artificer in metals.\n\nCeltic nations, ancient Gauls and Britons, modern Bretons, Welsh, Irish\nand Gaelic Scotch.\n\nCentaurs, originally an ancient race, inhabiting Mount Pelion in\nThessaly, in later accounts represented as half horses and half men,\nand said to have been the offspring of Ixion and a cloud.\n\nCephalus, husband of beautiful but jealous Procris.\n\nCephe us, King of Ethiopians, father of Andromeda.\n\nCephisus, a Grecian stream.\n\nCerberus, three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to Hades, called a\nson of Typhaon and Echidna\n\nCERES (See Demeter)\n\nCESTUS, the girdle of Venus\n\nCEYX, King of Thessaly (See Halcyone)\n\nCHAOS, original Confusion, personified by Greeks as most ancient of the\ngods\n\nCHARLEMAGNE, king of the Franks and emperor of the Romans\n\nCHARLES MARTEL', king of the Franks, grandfather of Charlemagne, called\nMartel (the Hammer) from his defeat of the Saracens at Tours\n\nCHARLOT, son of Charlemagne\n\nCHARON, son of Erebos, conveyed in his boat the shades of the dead\nacross the rivers of the lower world\n\nCHARYB'DIS, whirlpool near the coast of Sicily, See Scylla\n\nCHIMAERA, a fire breathing monster, the fore part of whose body was\nthat of a lion, the hind part that of a dragon, and the middle that of\na goat, slain by Bellerophon\n\nCHINA, Lamas (priests) of\n\nCHOS, island in the Grecian archipelago\n\nCHIRON, wisest of all the Centaurs, son of Cronos (Saturn) and Philyra,\nlived on Mount Pelion, instructor of Grecian heroes\n\nCHRYSEIS, Trojan maid, taken by Agamemnon\n\nCHRYSES, priest of Apollo, father of Chryseis\n\nCICONIANS, inhabitants of Ismarus, visited by Ulysses\n\nCIMBRI, an ancient people of Central Europe\n\nCimmeria, a land of darkness\n\nCimon, Athenian general\n\nCirce, sorceress, sister of Aeetes\n\nCithaeron, Mount, scene of Bacchic worship\n\nClarimunda, wife of Huon\n\nClio, one of the Muses\n\nCloridan, a Moor\n\nClotho, one of the Fates\n\nClymene, an ocean nymph\n\nClytemnestra, wife of Agamemnon, killed by Orestes\n\nClytie, a water nymph, in love with Apollo\n\nCnidos, ancient city of Asia Minor, seat of worship of Aphrodite (Venus)\n\nCockatrice (or Basilisk), called King of Serpents, supposed to kill\nwith its look\n\nCocytus, a river of Hades\n\nColchis, a kingdom east of the Black Sea\n\nColophon, one of the seven cities claiming the birth of Homer\n\nColumba, St, an Irish Christian missionary to Druidical parts of\nScotland\n\nConan, Welsh king\n\nConstantine, Greek emperor\n\nCordeilla, daughter of the mythical King Leir\n\nCorineus, a Trojan warrior in Albion\n\nCornwall, southwest part of Britain\n\nCortana, Ogier's sword\n\nCorybantes, priests of Cybele, or Rhea, in Phrygia, who celebrated her\nworship with dances, to the sound of the drum and the cymbal, 143\n\nCrab, constellation\n\nCranes and their enemies, the Pygmies, of Ibycus\n\nCreon, king of Thebes\n\nCrete, one of the largest islands of the Mediterranean Sea, lying south\nof the Cyclades\n\nCreusa, daughter of Priam, wife of Aeneas\n\nCrocale, a nymph of Diana\n\nCromlech, Druidical altar\n\nCronos, See Saturn\n\nCrotona, city of Italy\n\nCuchulain, Irish hero, called the \"Hound of Ireland,\"\n\nCuldees', followers of St. Columba, Cumaean Sibyl, seeress of Cumae,\nconsulted by Aeneas, sold Sibylline books to Tarquin\n\nCupid, child of Venus and god of love\n\nCuroi of Kerry, wise man\n\nCyane, river, opposed Pluto's passage to Hades\n\nCybele (Rhea)\n\nCyclopes, creatures with circular eyes, of whom Homer speaks as a\ngigantic and lawless race of shepherds in Sicily, who devoured human\nbeings, they helped Vulcan to forge the thunderbolts of Zeus under Aetna\n\nCymbeline, king of ancient Britain\n\nCynosure (Dog's tail), the Pole star, at tail of Constellation Ursa\nMinor\n\nCynthian mountain top, birthplace of Artemis (Diana) and Apollo\n\nCyprus, island off the coast of Syria, sacred to Aphrodite\n\nCyrene, a nymph, mother of Aristaeus\n\n\nD\n\nDaedalus, architect of the Cretan Labyrinth, inventor of sails\n\nDaguenet, King Arthur's fool\n\nDalai Lama, chief pontiff of Thibet\n\nDanae, mother of Perseus by Jupiter\n\nDanaides, the fifty daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, who were\nbetrothed to the fifty sons of Aegyptus, but were commanded by their\nfather to slay each her own husband on the marriage night\n\nDanaus (See Danaides)\n\nDaphne, maiden loved by Apollo, and changed into a laurel tree\n\nDardanelles, ancient Hellespont\n\nDardanus, progenitor of the Trojan kings\n\nDardinel, prince of Zumara\n\nDawn, See Aurora\n\nDay, an attendant on Phoebus, the Sun\n\nDay star (Hesperus)\n\nDeath, See Hela\n\nDeiphobus, son of Priam and Hecuba, the bravest brother of Paris\n\nDejanira, wife of Hercules\n\nDelos, floating island, birthplace of Apollo and Diana\n\nDelphi, shrine of Apollo, famed for its oracles\n\nDemeter, Greek goddess of marriage and human fertility, identified by\nRomans with Ceres\n\nDemeha, South Wales\n\nDemodocus, bard of Alomous, king of the Phaeaeians\n\nDeucalion, king of Thessaly, who with his wife Pyrrha were the only\npair surviving a deluge sent by Zeus\n\nDia, island of\n\nDiana (Artemis), goddess of the moon and of the chase, daughter of\nJupiter and Latona\n\nDiana of the Hind, antique sculpture in the Louvre, Paris\n\nDiana, temple of\n\nDictys, a sailor\n\nDidier, king of the Lombards\n\nDido, queen of Tyre and Carthage, entertained the shipwrecked Aeneas\n\nDiomede, Greek hero during Trojan War\n\nDione, female Titan, mother of Zeus, of Aphrodite (Venus)\n\nDionysus See Bacchus\n\nDioscuri, the Twins (See Castor and Pollux)\n\nDirce, wife of Lycus, king of Thebes, who ordered Amphion and Zethus to\ntie Antiope to a wild bull, but they, learning Antiope to be their\nmother, so treated Dirce herself\n\nDis See Pluto\n\nDiscord, apple of, See Eris.\n\nDiscordia, See Eris.\n\nDodona, site of an oracle of Zeus (Jupiter)\n\nDorceus, a dog of Diana\n\nDoris, wife of Nereus\n\nDragon's teeth sown by Cadmus\n\nDruids, ancient Celtic priests\n\nDryades (or Dryads), See Wood nymphs\n\nDryope, changed to a lotus plant, for plucking a lotus--enchanted form\nof the nymph Lotis\n\nDubricius, bishop of Caerleon.\n\nDudon, a knight, comrade of Astolpho.\n\nDunwallo Molmu'tius, British king and lawgiver\n\nDurindana, sword of Orlando or Rinaldo\n\nDwarfs in Wagner's Nibelungen Ring\n\n\nE\n\nEarth (Gaea); goddess of the\n\nEbudians, the\n\nEcho, nymph of Diana, shunned by Narcissus, faded to nothing but a voice\n\nEcklenlied, the\n\nEddas, Norse mythological records.\n\nEderyn, son of Nudd\n\nEgena, nymph of the Fountain\n\nEisteddfod, session of Welsh bards and minstrels\n\nElectra, the lost one of the Pleiades, also, sister of Orestes\n\nEleusian Mysteries, instituted by Ceres, and calculated to awaken\nfeelings of piety and a cheerful hope of better life in the future\n\nEleusis, Grecian city\n\nElgin Marbles, Greek sculptures from the Parthenon of Athens, now in\nBritish Museum, London, placed there by Lord Elgin\n\nEliaures, enchanter\n\nElidure, a king of Britain\n\nElis, ancient Greek city\n\nElli, old age; the one successful wrestler against Thor\n\nElphin, son of Gwyddiro\n\nElves, spiritual beings, of many powers and dispositions--some evil,\nsome good\n\nElvidnir, the ball of Hela\n\nElysian Fields, the land of the blest\n\nElysian Plain, whither the favored of the gods were taken without death\n\nElysium, a happy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor ram.\nHither favored heroes, like Menelaus, pass without dying, and live\nhappy under the rule of Rhadamanthus. In the Latin poets Elysium is\npart of the lower world, and the residence of the shades of the blessed\n\nEmbla, the first woman\n\nEnseladus, giant defeated by Jupiter\n\nEndymion, a beautiful youth beloved by Diana\n\nEnid, wife of Geraint\n\nEnna, vale of home of Proserpine\n\nEnoch, the patriarch\n\nEpidaurus, a town in Argolis, on the Saronic gulf, chief seat of the\nworship of Aeculapius, whose temple was situated near the town\n\nEpimetheus, son of Iapetus, husband of Pandora, with his brother\nPrometheus took part in creation of man\n\nEpirus, country to the west of Thessaly, lying along the Adriatic Sea\n\nEpopeus, a sailor\n\nErato, one of the Muses\n\nErbin of Cornwall, father of Geraint\n\nErebus, son of Chaos, region of darkness, entrance to Hades\n\nEridanus, river\n\nErinys, one of the Furies\n\nEriphyle, sister of Polynices, bribed to decide on war, in which her\nhusband was slain\n\nEris (Discordia), goddess of discord. At the wedding of Peleus and\nThetis, Eris being uninvited threw into the gathering an apple \"For the\nFairest,\" which was claimed by Hera (Juno), Aphrodite (Venus) and\nAthena (Minerva) Paris, being called upon for judgment, awarded it to\nAphrodite\n\nErisichthon, an unbeliever, punished by famine\n\nEros See Cupid\n\nErytheia, island\n\nEryx, a mount, haunt of Venus\n\nEsepus, river in Paphlagonia\n\nEstrildis, wife of Locrine, supplanting divorced Guendolen\n\nEteocles, son of Oeipus and Jocasta\n\nEtruscans, ancient people of Italy.\n\nEtzel, king of the Huns\n\nEuboic Sea, where Hercules threw Lichas, who brought him the poisoned\nshirt of Nessus\n\nEude, king of Aquitaine, ally of Charles Martel\n\nEumaeus, swineherd of Aeeas\n\nEumenides, also called Erinnyes, and by the Romans Furiae or Diraae,\nthe Avenging Deities, See Furies\n\nEuphorbus, a Trojan, killed by Menelaus\n\nEuphros'yne, one of the Graces\n\nEuropa, daughter of the Phoenician king Agenor, by Zeus the mother of\nMinos, Rhadamanthus, and Sarpedon\n\nEurus, the East wind\n\nEuyalus, a gallant Trojan soldier, who with Nisus entered the Grecian\ncamp, both being slain.\n\nEurydice, wife of Orpheus, who, fleeing from an admirer, was killed by\na snake and borne to Tartarus, where Orpheus sought her and was\npermitted to bring her to earth if he would not look back at her\nfollowing him, but he did, and she returned to the Shades.\n\nEurylochus, a companion of Ulysses.\n\nEurynome, female Titan, wife of Ophlon\n\nEurystheus, taskmaster of Hercules.\n\nEurytion, a Centaur (See Hippodamia).\n\nEuterpe, Muse who presided over music.\n\nEvadne, wife of Capaneus, who flung herself upon his funeral pile and\nperished with him\n\nEvander, Arcadian chief, befriending Aeneas in Italy.\n\nEvnissyen, quarrelsome brother of Branwen.\n\nExcalibar, sword of King Arthur.\n\n\nF\n\nFafner, a giant turned dragon, treasure stealer, by the Solar Theory\nsimply the Darkness who steals the day.\n\nFalerina, an enchantress.\n\nFasolt, a giant, brother of Fafner, and killed by him.\n\n\"Fasti,\" Ovid's, a mythological poetic calendar.\n\nFATA MORGANA, a mirage\n\nFATES, the three, described as daughters of Night--to indicate the\ndarkness and obscurity of human destiny--or of Zeus and Themis, that\nis, \"daughters of the just heavens\" they were Clo'tho, who spun the\nthread of life, Lach'esis, who held the thread and fixed its length and\nAt'ropos, who cut it off\n\nFAUNS, cheerful sylvan deities, represented in human form, with small\nhorns, pointed ears, and sometimes goat's tail\n\nFAUNUS, son of Picus, grandson of Saturnus, and father of Latinus,\nworshipped as the protecting deity of agriculture and of shepherds, and\nalso as a giver of oracles\n\nFAVONIUS, the West wind\n\nFEAR\n\nFENRIS, a wolf, the son of Loki the Evil Principle of Scandinavia,\nsupposed to have personated the element of fire, destructive except\nwhen chained\n\nFENSALIR, Freya's palace, called the Hall of the Sea, where were\nbrought together lovers, husbands, and wives who had been separated by\ndeath\n\nFERRAGUS, a giant, opponent of Orlando\n\nFERRAU, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nFERREX. brother of Porrex, the two sons of Leir\n\nFIRE WORSHIPPERS, of ancient Persia, See Parsees FLOLLO, Roman tribune\nin Gaul\n\nFLORA, Roman goddess of flowers and spring\n\nFLORDELIS, fair maiden beloved by Florismart\n\nFLORISMART, Sir, a brave knight.\n\nFLOSSHILDA, one of the Rhine daughters\n\nFORTUNATE FIELDS\n\nFORTUNATE ISLANDS (See Elysian Plain)\n\nFORUM, market place and open square for public meetings in Rome,\nsurrounded by court houses, palaces, temples, etc\n\nFRANCUS, son of Histion, grandson of Japhet, great grandson of Noah,\nlegendary ancestor of the Franks, or French\n\nFREKI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nFREY, or Freyr, god of the sun\n\nFREYA, Norse goddess of music, spring, and flowers\n\nFRICKA, goddess of marriage\n\nFRIGGA, goddess who presided over smiling nature, sending sunshine,\nrain, and harvest\n\nFROH, one of the Norse gods\n\nFRONTI'NO, Rogero's horse\n\nFURIES (Erinnyes), the three retributive spirits who punished crime,\nrepresented as snaky haired old woman, named Alecto, Megaeira, and\nTisiphone\n\nFUSBERTA, Rinaldo's sword\n\n\nG\n\nGAEA, or Ge, called Tellus by the Romans, the personification of the\nearth, described as the first being that sprang fiom Chaos, and gave\nbirth to Uranus (Heaven) and Pontus (Sea)\n\nGAHARIET, knight of Arthur's court\n\nGAHERIS, knight\n\nGALAFRON, King of Cathay, father of Angelica\n\nGALAHAD, Sir, the pure knight of Arthur's Round Table, who safely took\nthe Siege Perilous (which See)\n\nGALATEA, a Nereid or sea nymph\n\nGALATEA, statue carved and beloved by Pygmalion\n\nGALEN, Greek physician and philosophical writer\n\nGALLEHANT, King of the Marches\n\nGAMES, national athletic contests in Greece--Olympian, at Olympia,\nPythian, near Delphi, seat of Apollo's oracle, Isthmian, on the\nCorinthian Isthmus, Nemean, at Nemea in Argolis\n\nGAN, treacherous Duke of Maganza\n\nGANELON of Mayence, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nGANGES, river in India\n\nGANO, a peer of Charlemagne\n\nGANYMEDE, the most beautiful of all mortals, carried off to Olympus\nthat he might fill the cup of Zeus and live among the immortal gods\n\nGARETH, Arthur's knight\n\nGAUDISSO, Sultan\n\nGAUL, ancient France\n\nGAUTAMA, Prince, the Buddha\n\nGAWAIN, Arthur's knight\n\nGAWL, son of Clud, suitor for Rhiannon\n\nGEMINI (See Castor), constellation created by Jupiter from the twin\nbrothers after death, 158\n\nGENGHIS Khan, Tartar conqueror\n\nGENIUS, in Roman belief, the protective Spirit of each individual man,\nSee Juno\n\nGEOFFREY OF MON'MOUTH, translator into Latin of the Welsh History of\nthe Kings of Britain (1150)\n\nGERAINT, a knight of King Arthur\n\nGERDA, wife of Frey\n\nGERI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nGERYON, a three bodied monster\n\nGESNES, navigator sent for Isoude the Fair\n\nGIALLAR HORN, the trumpet that Heimdal will blow at the judgment day\n\nGIANTS, beings of monstrous size and of fearful countenances,\nrepresented as in constant opposition to the gods, in Wagner's\nNibelungen Ring\n\nGIBICHUNG RACE, ancestors of Alberich\n\nGIBRALTAR, great rock and town at southwest corner of Spain (See\nPillars of Hercules)\n\nGILDAS, a scholar of Arthur's court\n\nGIRARD, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nGLASTONBURY, where Arthur died\n\nGLAUCUS, a fisherman, loving Scylla\n\nGLEIPNIR, magical chain on the wolf Fenris\n\nGLEWLWYD, Arthur's porter\n\nGOLDEN FLEECE, of ram used for escape of children of Athamas, named\nHelle and Phryxus (which See), after sacrifice of ram to Jupiter,\nfleece was guarded by sleepless dragon and gained by Jason and\nArgonauts (which See, also Helle)\n\nGONERIL, daughter of Leir\n\nGORDIAN KNOT, tying up in temple the wagon of Gordius, he who could\nuntie it being destined to be lord of Asia, it was cut by Alexander the\nGreat, 48\n\nGordius, a countryman who, arriving in Phrygia in a wagon, was made\nking by the people, thus interpreting an oracle, 48\n\nGorgons, three monstrous females, with huge teeth, brazen claws and\nsnakes for hair, sight of whom turned beholders to stone, Medusa, the\nmost famous, slain by Perseus\n\nGorlois, Duke of Tintadel\n\nGouvernail, squire of Isabella, queen of Lionesse, protector of her son\nTristram while young, and his squire in knighthood\n\nGraal, the Holy, cup from which the Saviour drank at Last Supper, taken\nby Joseph of Arimathea to Europe, and lost, its recovery becoming a\nsacred quest for Arthur's knights\n\nGraces, three goddesses who enhanced the enjoyments of life by\nrefinement and gentleness; they were Aglaia (brilliance), Euphrosyne\n(joy), and Thalia (bloom)\n\nGradas'so, king of Sericane\n\nGraeae, three gray haired female watchers for the Gorgons, with one\nmovable eye and one tooth between the three\n\nGrand Lama, Buddhist pontiff in Thibet\n\nGrendel, monster slain by Beowulf\n\nGryphon (griffin), a fabulous animal, with the body of a lion and the\nhead and wings of an eagle, dwelling in the Rhipaean mountains, between\nthe Hyperboreans and the one eyed Arimaspians, and guarding the gold of\nthe North.\n\nGuebers, Persian fire worshippers.\n\nGuendolen, wife of Locrine.\n\nGuenevere, wife of King Arthur, beloved by Launcelot.\n\nGuerin, lord of Vienne, father of Oliver.\n\nGuiderius, son of Cymbeline.\n\nGuillamurius, king in Ireland.\n\nGuimier, betrothed of Caradoc.\n\nGullinbursti, the boar drawing Frey's car.\n\nGulltopp, Heimdell's horse.\n\nGunfasius, King of the Orkneys.\n\nGanther, Burgundian king, brother of Kriemhild.\n\nGutrune, half sister to Hagen.\n\nGwern son of Matholch and Branwen.\n\nGwernach the Giant.\n\nGwiffert Petit, ally of Geraint.\n\nGwyddno, Garanhir, King of Gwaelod.\n\nGwyr, judge in the court of Arthur.\n\nGyoll, river.\n\n\nH\n\nHades, originally the god of the nether world--the name later used to\ndesignate the gloomy subterranean land of the dead.\n\nHaemon, son of Creon of Thebes, and lover of Antigone.\n\nHaemonian city.\n\nHaemus, Mount, northern boundary of Thrace.\n\nHagan, a principal character in the Nibelungen Lied, slayer of\nSiegfried.\n\nHALCYONE, daughter of Aeneas, and the beloved wife of Ceyx, who, when\nhe was drowned, flew to his floating body, and the pitying gods changed\nthem both to birds (kingfishers), who nest at sea during a certain calm\nweek in winter (\"halcyon weather\")\n\nHAMADRYADS, tree-nymphs or wood-nymphs, See Nymphs\n\nHARMONIA, daughter of Mars and Venus, wife of Cadmus\n\nHAROUN AL RASCHID, Caliph of Arabia, contemporary of Charlemagne\n\nHARPIES, monsters, with head and bust of woman, but wings, legs and\ntail of birds, seizing souls of the wicked, or punishing evildoers by\ngreedily snatching or defiling their food\n\nHARPOCRATES, Egyptian god, Horus\n\nHEBE, daughter of Juno, cupbearer to the gods\n\nHEBRUS, ancient name of river Maritzka\n\nHECATE, a mighty and formidable divinity, supposed to send at night all\nkinds of demons and terrible phantoms from the lower world\n\nHECTOR, son of Priam and champion of Troy\n\nHECTOR, one of Arthur's knights\n\nHECTOR DE MARYS', a knight\n\nHECUBA, wife of Priam, king of Troy, to whom she bore Hector, Paris,\nand many other children\n\nHEGIRA, flight of Mahomet from Mecca to Medina (622 AD), era from which\nMahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of Christ\n\nHEIDRUN, she goat, furnishing mead for slain heroes in Valhalla\n\nHEIMDALL, watchman of the gods\n\nHEL, the lower world of Scandinavia, to which were consigned those who\nhad not died in battle\n\nHELA (Death), the daughter of Loki and the mistress of the Scandinavian\nHel\n\nHELEN, daughter of Jupiter and Leda, wife of Menelaus, carried off by\nParis and cause of the Trojan War\n\nHELENUS, son of Priam and Hecuba, celebrated for his prophetic powers\n\nHELIADES, sisters of Phaeton\n\nHELICON, Mount, in Greece, residence of Apollo and the Muses, with\nfountains of poetic inspiration, Aganippe and Hippocrene\n\nHELIOOPOLIS, city of the Sun, in Egypt\n\nHELLAS, Gieece\n\nHELLE, daughter of Thessalian King Athamas, who, escaping from cruel\nfather with her brother Phryxus, on ram with golden fleece, fell into\nthe sea strait since named for her (See Golden Fleece)\n\nHELLESPONt, narrow strait between Europe and Asia Minor, named for Helle\n\nHENGIST, Saxon invader of Britain, 449 AD\n\nHEPHAESTOS, See VULCAN\n\nHERA, called Juno by the Romans, a daughter of Cronos (Saturn) and\nRhea, and sister and wife of Jupiter, See JUNO\n\nHERCULES, athletic hero, son of Jupiter and Alcmena, achieved twelve\nvast labors and many famous deeds\n\nHEREWARD THE WAKE, hero of the Saxons\n\nHERMES (Mercury), messenger of the gods, deity of commerce, science,\neloquence, trickery, theft, and skill generally\n\nHERMIONE, daughter of Menelaus and Helen\n\nHERMOD, the nimble, son of Odin\n\nHERO, a priestess of Venus, beloved of Leander\n\nHERODOTUS, Greek historian\n\nHESIOD, Greek poet\n\nHESPERIA, ancient name for Italy\n\nHESPERIDES (See Apples of the Hesperides)\n\nHESPERUS, the evening star (also called Day Star)\n\nHESTIA, cilled Vesta by the Romans, the goddess of the hearth\n\nHILDEBRAND, German magician and champion\n\nHINDU TRIAD, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva\n\nHIPPOCRENE (See Helicon)\n\nHIPPODAMIA, wife of Pirithous, at whose wedding the Centaurs offered\nviolence to the bride, causing a great battle\n\nHIPPOGRIFF, winged horse, with eagle's head and claws\n\nHIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons\n\nHippolytus, son of Thesus\n\nHIPPOMENES, who won Atalanta in foot race, beguiling her with golden\napples thrown for her to\n\nHISTION, son of Japhet\n\nHODUR, blind man, who, fooled by Loki, threw a mistletoe twig at\nBaldur, killing him\n\nHOEL, king of Brittany\n\nHOMER, the blind poet of Greece, about 850 B C\n\nHOPE (See PANDORA)\n\nHORAE See HOURS\n\nHORSA, with Hengist, invader of Britain\n\nHORUS, Egyptian god of the sun\n\nHOUDAIN, Tristram's dog\n\nHRINGHAM, Baldur's ship\n\nHROTHGAR, king of Denmark\n\nHUGI, who beat Thialfi in foot races\n\nHUGIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nHUNDING, husband of Sieglinda\n\nHUON, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nHYACINTHUS, a youth beloved by Apollo, and accidentally killed by him,\nchanged in death to the flower, hyacinth\n\nHYADES, Nysaean nymphs, nurses of infant Bacchus, rewarded by being\nplaced as cluster of stars in the heavens\n\nHYALE, a nymph of Diana\n\nHYDRA, nine headed monster slain by Hercules\n\nHYGEIA, goddess of health, daughter of Aesculapius\n\nHYLAS, a youth detained by nymphs of spring where he sought water\n\nHYMEN, the god of marriage, imagined as a handsome youth and invoked in\nbridal songs\n\nHYMETTUS, mountain in Attica, near Athens, celebrated for its marble\nand its honey\n\nHYPERBOREANS, people of the far North\n\nHYPERION, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Helios, Selene,\nand Eos, cattle of.\n\nHyrcania, Prince of, betrothed to Clarimunda\n\nHyrieus, king in Greece.\n\n\nI\n\nIapetus, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Atlas,\nPrometheus, Epimetheus, and Menoetius.\n\nIasius, father of Atalanta\n\nIbycus, a poet, story of, and the cranes\n\nIcaria, island of the Aegean Sea, one of the Sporades\n\nIcarius, Spartan prince, father of Penelope\n\nIcarus, son of Daedalus, he flew too near the sun with artificial\nwings, and, the wax melting, he fell into the sea\n\nIcelos, attendant of Morpheus\n\nIcolumkill SEE Iona\n\nIda, Mount, a Trojan hill\n\nIdaeus, a Trojan herald\n\nIdas, son of Aphareus and Arene, and brother of Lynceus Idu'na, wife of\nBragi\n\nIgerne, wife of Gorlois, and mother, by Uther, of Arthur\n\nIliad, epic poem of the Trojan War, by Homer\n\nIlioheus, a son of Niobe\n\nIlium SEE Troy\n\nIllyria, Adriatic countries north of Greece\n\nImogen, daughter of Pandrasus, wife of Trojan Brutus\n\nInachus, son of Oceanus and Tethys, and father of Phoroneus and Io,\nalso first king of Argos, and said to have given his name to the river\nInachus\n\nINCUBUS, an evil spirit, supposed to lie upon persons in their sleep\n\nINDRA, Hindu god of heaven, thunder, lightning, storm and rain\n\nINO, wife of Athamas, fleeing from whom with infant son she sprang into\nthe sea and was changed to Leucothea\n\nIO, changed to a heifer by Jupiter\n\nIOBATES, King of Lycia\n\nIOLAUS, servant of Hercules\n\nIOLE, sister of Dryope\n\nIONA, or Icolmkill, a small northern island near Scotland, where St\nColumba founded a missionary monastery (563 AD)\n\nIONIA, coast of Asia Minor\n\nIPHIGENIA, daughter of Agamemnon, offered as a sacrifice but carried\naway by Diana\n\nIPHIS, died for love of Anaxarete, 78\n\nIPHITAS, friend of Hercules, killed by him\n\nIRIS, goddess of the rainbow, messenger of Juno and Zeus\n\nIRONSIDE, Arthur's knight\n\nISABELLA, daughter of king of Galicia\n\nISIS, wife of Osiris, described as the giver of death\n\nISLES OF THE BLESSED\n\nISMARUS, first stop of Ulysses, returning from Trojan War ISME'NOS, a\nson of Niobe, slain by Apollo\n\nISOLIER, friend of Rinaldo\n\nISOUDE THE FAIR, beloved of Tristram\n\nISOUDE OF THE WHITE HANDS, married to Tristram\n\nISTHMIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nITHACA, home of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nIULUS, son of Aeneas\n\nIVO, Saracen king, befriending Rinaldo\n\nIXION, once a sovereign of Thessaly, sentenced in Tartarus to be lashed\nwith serpents to a wheel which a strong wind drove continually around\n\n\nJ\n\nJANICULUM, Roman fortress on the Janiculus, a hill on the other side of\nthe Tiber\n\nJANUS, a deity from the earliest times held in high estimation by the\nRomans, temple of\n\nJAPHET (Iapetus)\n\nJASON, leader of the Argonauts, seeking the Golden Fleece\n\nJOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA, who bore the Holy Graal to Europe\n\nJOTUNHEIM, home of the giants in Northern mythology\n\nJOVE (Zeus), chief god of Roman and Grecian mythology, See JUPITER\n\nJOYOUS GARDE, residence of Sir Launcelot of the Lake\n\nJUGGERNAUT, Hindu deity\n\nJUNO, the particular guardian spirit of each woman (See Genius)\n\nJUNO, wife of Jupiter, queen of the gods\n\nJUPITER, JOVIS PATER, FATHER JOVE, JUPITER and JOVE used\ninterchangeably, at Dodona, statue of the Olympian\n\nJUPITER AMMON (See Ammon)\n\nJUPITER CAPITOLINUS, temple of, preserving the Sibylline books\n\nJUSTICE, See THEMIS\n\n\nK\n\nKADYRIATH, advises King Arthur\n\nKAI, son of Kyner\n\nKALKI, tenth avatar of Vishnu\n\nKAY, Arthur's steward and a knight\n\nKEDALION, guide of Orion\n\nKERMAN, desert of\n\nKICVA, daughter of Gwynn Gloy\n\nKILWICH, son of Kilydd\n\nKILYDD, son of Prince Kelyddon, of Wales\n\nKNEPH, spirit or breath\n\nKNIGHTS, training and life of\n\nKRIEMHILD, wife of Siegfried\n\nKRISHNA, eighth avatar of Vishnu, Hindu deity of fertility in nature\nand mankind\n\nKYNER, father of Kav\n\nKYNON, son of Clydno\n\n\nL\n\nLABYRINTH, the enclosed maze of passageways where roamed the Minotaur\nof Crete, killed by Theseus with aid of Ariadne\n\nLACHESIS, one of the Fates (which See)\n\nLADY OF THE FOUNTAIN, tale told by Kynon\n\nLAERTES, father of Ulysses\n\nLAESTRYGONIANS, savages attacking Ulysses\n\nLAIUS, King of Thebes\n\nLAMA, holy man of Thibet\n\nLAMPETIA, daughter of Hyperion LAOC'OON, a priest of Neptune, in Troy,\nwho warned the Trojans against the Wooden Horse (which See), but when\ntwo serpents came out of the sea and strangled him and his two sons,\nthe people listened to the Greek spy Sinon, and brought the fatal Horse\ninto the town\n\nLAODAMIA, daughter of Acastus and wife of Protesilaus\n\nLAODEGAN, King of Carmalide, helped by Arthur and Merlin\n\nLAOMEDON, King of Troy\n\nLAPITHAE, Thessalonians, whose king had invited the Centaurs to his\ndaughter's wedding but who attacked them for offering violence to the\nbride\n\nLARES, household deities\n\nLARKSPUR, flower from the blood of Ajax\n\nLATINUS, ruler of Latium, where Aeneas landed in Italy\n\nLATMOS, Mount, where Diana fell in love with Endymion\n\nLATONA, mother of Apollo\n\nLAUNCELOT, the most famous knight of the Round Table\n\nLAUSUS, son of Mezentius, killed by Aeneas\n\nLAVINIA, daughter of Latinus and wife of Aeneas\n\nLAVINIUM, Italian city named for Lavinia\n\nLAW, See THEMIS\n\nLEANDER, a youth of Abydos, who, swimming the Hellespont to see Hero,\nhis love, was drowned\n\nLEBADEA, site of the oracle of Trophomus\n\nLEBYNTHOS, Aegean island\n\nLEDA, Queen of Sparta, wooed by Jupiter in the form of a swan\n\nLEIR, mythical King of Britain, original of Shakespeare's Lear\n\nLELAPS, dog of Cephalus\n\nLEMNOS, large island in the Aegean Sea, sacred to Vulcan\n\nLEMURES, the spectres or spirits of the dead\n\nLEO, Roman emperor, Greek prince\n\nLETHE, river of Hades, drinking whose water caused forgetfulness\n\nLEUCADIA, a promontory, whence Sappho, disappointed in love, was said\nto have thrown herself into the sea\n\nLEUCOTHEA, a sea goddess, invoked by sailors for protection (See Ino)\n\nLEWIS, son of Charlemagne\n\nLIBER, ancient god of fruitfulness\n\nLIBETHRA, burial place of Orpheus\n\nLIBYA, Greek name for continent of Africa in general\n\nLIBYAN DESERT, in Africa\n\nLIBYAN OASIS\n\nLICHAS, who brought the shirt of Nessus to Hercules\n\nLIMOURS, Earl of\n\nLINUS, musical instructor of Hercules\n\nLIONEL, knight of the Round Table\n\nLLYR, King of Britain\n\nLOCRINE, son of Brutus in Albion, king of Central England\n\nLOEGRIA, kingdom of (England)\n\nLOGESTILLA, a wise lady, who entertained Rogero and his friends\n\nLOGI, who vanquished Loki in an eating contest\n\nLOKI, the Satan of Norse mythology, son of the giant Farbanti\n\nLOT, King, a rebel chief, subdued by King Arthur, then a loyal knight\n\nLOTIS, a nymph, changed to a lotus-plant and in that form plucked by\nDryope\n\nLOTUS EATERS, soothed to indolence, companions of Ulysses landing among\nthem lost all memory of home and had to be dragged away before they\nwould continue their voyage\n\nLOVE (Eros) issued from egg of Night, and with arrows and torch\nproduced life and joy\n\nLUCAN, one of Arthur's knights\n\nLucius Tiberius, Roman procurator in Britain demanding tribute from\nArthur\n\nLUD, British king, whose capital was called Lud's Town (London)\n\nLUDGATE, city gate where Lud was buried, 387\n\nLUNED, maiden who guided Owain to the Lady of the Fountain\n\nLYCAHAS, a turbulent sailor\n\nLYCAON, son of Priam\n\nLYCIA, a district in Southern Asia Minor\n\nLYCOMODES, king of the Dolopians, who treacherously slew Theseus\n\nLYCUS, usurping King of Thebes\n\nLYNCEUS, one of the sons of Aegyptus\n\n\nM\n\nMABINOGEON, plural of Mabinogi, fairy tales and romances of the Welsh\n\nMABON, son of Modron\n\nMACHAON, son of Aesculapius\n\nMADAN, son of Guendolen\n\nMADOC, a forester of King Arthur\n\nMADOR, Scottish knight\n\nMAELGAN, king who imprisoned Elphin\n\nMAEONIA, ancient Lydia\n\nMAGI, Persian priests\n\nMAHADEVA, same as Siva\n\nMAHOMET, great prophet of Arabia, born in Mecca, 571 AD, proclaimed\nworship of God instead of idols, spread his religion through disciples\nand then by force till it prevailed, with Arabian dominion, over vast\nregions in Asia, Africa, and Spain in Europe\n\nMAIA, daughter of Atlas and Pleione, eldest and most beautiful of the\nPleiades\n\nMALAGIGI the Enchanter, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nMALEAGANS, false knight\n\nMALVASIUS, King of Iceland\n\nMAMBRINO, with invisible helmet\n\nMANAWYD DAN, brother of King Vran, of London\n\nMANDRICARDO, son of Agrican\n\nMANTUA, in Italy, birthplace of Virgil\n\nMANU, ancestor of mankind\n\nMARATHON, where Theseus and Pirithous met\n\nMARK, King of Cornwall, husband of Isoude the Fair\n\nMARO See VIRGIL\n\nMARPHISA, sister of Rogero\n\nMARSILIUS, Spanish king, treacherous foe of Charlemagne\n\nMARSYAS, inventor of the flute, who challenged Apollo to musical\ncompetition, and, defeated, was flayed alive\n\nMATSYA, the Fish, first avatar of Vishnu\n\nMEANDER, Grecian river\n\nMEDE, A, princess and sorceress who aided Jason\n\nMEDORO, a young Moor, who wins Angelica\n\nMEDUSA, one of the Gorgons\n\nMEGAERA, one of the Furies\n\nMELAMPUS, a Spartan dog, the first mortal endowed with prophetic powers\n\nMELANTHUS, steersman for Bacchus\n\nMELEAGER, one of the Argonauts (See Althaea)\n\nMELIADUS, King of Lionesse, near Cornwall\n\nMELICERTES, infant son of Ino. changed to Palaemon (See Ino, Leucothea,\nand Palasmon)\n\nMELISSA, priestess at Merlin's tomb\n\nMELISSEUS, a Cretan king\n\nMELPOMENE, one of the Muses\n\nMEMNON, the beautiful son of Tithonus and Eos (Aurora), and king of the\nEthiopians, slain in Trojan War\n\nMEMPHIS, Egyptian city\n\nMENELAUS, son of King of Sparta, husband of Helen\n\nMENOECEUS, son of Creon, voluntary victim in war to gain success for\nhis father\n\nMENTOR, son of Alcimus and a faithful friend of Ulysses\n\nMERCURY (See HERMES)\n\nMERLIN, enchanter\n\nMEROPE, daughter of King of Chios, beloved by Orion\n\nMESMERISM, likened to curative oracle of Aesculapius at Epidaurus\n\nMETABUS, father of Camilla\n\nMETAMORPHOSES, Ovid's poetical legends of mythical transformations, a\nlarge source of our knowledge of classic mythology\n\nMETANIRA, a mother, kind to Ceres seeking Proserpine\n\nMETEMPSYCHOSIS, transmigration of souls--rebirth of dying men and women\nin forms of animals or human beings\n\nMETIS, Prudence, a spouse of Jupiter\n\nMEZENTIUS, a brave but cruel soldier, opposing Aeneas in Italy\n\nMIDAS\n\nMIDGARD, the middle world of the Norsemen\n\nMIDGARD SERPENT, a sea monster, child of Loki\n\nMILKY WAY, starred path across the sky, believed to be road to palace\nof the gods\n\nMILO, a great athlete\n\nMLON, father of Orlando\n\nMILTON, John, great English poet, whose History of England is here\nlargely used\n\nMIME, one of the chief dwarfs of ancient German mythology\n\nMINERVA (Athene), daughter of Jupiter, patroness of health, learning,\nand wisdom\n\nMINOS, King of Crete\n\nMINO TAUR, monster killed by Theseus\n\nMISTLETOE, fatal to Baldur\n\nMNEMOSYNE, one of the Muses\n\nMODESTY, statue to\n\nMODRED, nephew of King Arthur\n\nMOLY, plant, powerful against sorcery\n\nMOMUS, a deity whose delight was to jeer bitterly at gods and men\n\nMONAD, the \"unit\" of Pythagoras\n\nMONSTERS, unnatural beings, evilly disposed to men\n\nMONTALBAN, Rinaldo's castle\n\nMONTH, the, attendant upon the Sun\n\nMOON, goddess of, see DIANA\n\nMORAUNT, knight, an Irish champion\n\nMORGANA, enchantress, the Lady of the Lake in \"Orlando Furioso,\" same\nas Morgane Le Fay in tales of Arthur\n\nMORGANE LE FAY, Queen of Norway, King Arthur's sister, an enchantress\n\nMORGAN TUD, Arthur's chief physician\n\nMORPHEUS, son of Sleep and god of dreams\n\nMORTE D'ARTHUr, romance, by Sir Thomas Mallory\n\nMULCIBER, Latin name of Vulcan\n\nMULL, Island of\n\nMUNIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nMUSAEUS, sacred poet, son of Orpheus\n\nMUSES, The, nine goddesses presiding over poetry, etc--Calliope, epic\npoetry, Clio, history, Erato, love poetry, Euterpe, lyric poetry;\nMelpomene, tragedy, Polyhymnia, oratory and sacred song Terpsichore,\nchoral song and dance, Thalia, comedy and idyls, Urania, astronomy\n\nMUSPELHEIM, the fire world of the Norsemen\n\nMYCENAS, ancient Grecian city, of which Agamemnon was king\n\nMYRDDIN (Merlin)\n\nMYRMIDONS, bold soldiers of Achilles\n\nMYSIA, Greek district on northwest coast of Asia Minor\n\nMYTHOLOGY, origin of, collected myths, describing gods of early peoples\n\n\nN\n\nNAIADS, water nymphs\n\nNAMO, Duke of Bavaria, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nNANNA, wife of Baldur\n\nNANTERS, British king\n\nNANTES, site of Caradoc's castle\n\nNAPE, a dog of Diana\n\nNARCISSUS, who died of unsatisfied love for his own image in the water\n\nNAUSICAA, daughter of King Alcinous, who befriended Ulysses\n\nNAUSITHOUS, king of Phaeacians\n\nNAXOS, Island of\n\nNEGUS, King of Abyssinia\n\nNEMEA, forest devastated by a lion killed by Hercules\n\nNEMEAN GAMES, held in honor of Jupiter and Hercules\n\nNEMEAN LION, killed by Hercules\n\nNEMESIS, goddess of vengeance\n\nNENNIUS, British combatant of Caesar\n\nNEOPTOLEMUS, son of Achilles\n\nNEPENTHE, ancient drug to cause forgetfulness of pain or distress\n\nNEPHELE, mother of Phryxus and Helle\n\nNEPHTHYS, Egyptian goddess\n\nNEPTUNE, identical with Poseidon, god of the sea\n\nNEREIDS, sea nymphs, daughters of Nereus and Doris\n\nNEREUS, a sea god\n\nNESSUS, a centaur killed by Hercules, whose jealous wife sent him a\nrobe or shirt steeped in the blood of Nessus, which poisoned him\n\nNESTOR, king of Pylos, renowned for his wisdom, justice, and knowledge\nof war\n\nNIBELUNGEN HOARD, treasure seized by Siegfried from the Nibelungs,\nburied in the Rhine by Hagan after killing Siegfried, and lost when\nHagan was killed by Kriemhild, theme of Wagner's four music dramas,\n\"The Ring of the Nibelungen,\"\n\nNIBELUNGEN LIED, German epic, giving the same nature myth as the Norse\nVolsunga Saga, concerning the Hoard\n\nNIBELUNGEN RING, Wagner's music dramas\n\nNIBELUNGS, the, a race of Northern dwarfs\n\nNIDHOGGE, a serpent in the lower world that lives on the dead\n\nNIFFLEHEIM, mist world of the Norsemen, the Hades of absent spirits\n\nNILE, Egyptian river\n\nNIOBE, daughter of Tantalus, proud Queen of Thebes, whose seven sons\nand seven daughters were killed by Apollo and Diana, at which Amphion,\nher husband, killed himself, and Niobe wept until she was turned to\nstone\n\nNISUS, King of Megara\n\nNOAH, as legendary ancestor of French, Roman, German, and British\npeoples\n\nNOMAN, name assumed by Ulysses\n\nNORNS, the three Scandinavian Fates, Urdur (the past), Verdandi (the\npresent), and Skuld (the future)\n\nNOTHUNG, magic sword\n\nNOTUS, southwest wind\n\nNOX, daughter of Chaos and sister of Erebus, personification of night\n\nNuma, second king of Rome\n\nNYMPHS, beautiful maidens, lesser divinities of nature Dryads and\nHamadryads, tree nymphs, Naiads, spring, brook, and river nymphs,\nNereids, sea nymphs Oreads, mountain nymphs or hill nymphs\n\n\nO\n\nOCEANUS, a Titan, ruling watery elements\n\nOCYROE, a prophetess, daughter of Chiron\n\nODERIC\n\nODIN, chief of the Norse gods\n\nODYAR, famous Biscayan hero\n\nODYSSEUS See ULYSSES\n\nODYSSEY, Homer's poem, relating the wanderings of Odysseus (Ulysses) on\nreturning from Trojan War\n\nOEDIPUS, Theban hero, who guessed the riddle of the Sphinx (which See),\nbecoming King of Thebes\n\nOENEUS, King of Calydon\n\nOENONE, nymph, married by Paris in his youth, and abandoned for Helen\n\nOENOPION, King of Chios\n\nOETA, Mount, scene of Hercules' death\n\nOGIER, the Dane, one of the paladins of Charlemagne\n\nOLIVER, companion of Orlando\n\nOLWEN, wife of Kilwich\n\nOLYMPIA, a small plain in Elis, where the Olympic games were celebrated\n\nOLYMPIADS, periods between Olympic games (four years)\n\nOLYMPIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nOLYMPUS, dwelling place of the dynasty of gods of which Zeus was the\nhead\n\nOMPHALE, queen of Lydia, daughter of Iardanus and wife of Tmolus\n\nOPHION, king of the Titans, who ruled Olympus till dethroned by the\ngods Saturn and Rhea\n\nOPS See RHEA\n\nORACLES, answers from the gods to questions from seekers for knowledge\nor advice for the future, usually in equivocal form, so as to fit any\nevent, also places where such answers were given forth usually by a\npriest or priestess\n\nORC, a sea monster, foiled by Rogero when about to devour Angelica\n\nOREADS, nymphs of mountains and hills\n\nORESTES, son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, because of his crime in\nkilling his mother, he was pursued by the Furies until purified by\nMinerva\n\nORION, youthful giant, loved by Diana, Constellation\n\nORITHYIA, a nymph, seized by Boreas\n\nORLANDO, a famous knight and nephew of Charlemagne\n\nORMUZD (Greek, Oromasdes), son of Supreme Being, source of good as his\nbrother Ahriman (Arimanes) was of evil, in Persian or Zoroastrian\nreligion\n\nORPHEUS, musician, son of Apollo and Calliope, See EURYDICE\n\nOSIRIS, the most beneficent of the Egyptian gods\n\nOSSA, mountain of Thessaly\n\nOSSIAN, Celtic poet of the second or third century\n\nOVID, Latin poet (See Metamorphoses)\n\nOWAIN, knight at King Arthur's court\n\nOZANNA, a knight of Arthur\n\n\nP\n\nPACTOLUS, river whose sands were changed to gold by Midas\n\nPAEON, a name for both Apollo and Aesculapius, gods of medicine.\n\nPAGANS, heathen\n\nPALADINS or peers, knights errant\n\nPALAEMON, son of Athamas and Ino\n\nPALAMEDES, messenger sent to call Ulysses to the Trojan War\n\nPALAMEDES, Saracen prince at Arthur's court\n\nPALATINE, one of Rome's Seven Hills\n\nPALES, goddess presiding over cattle and pastures\n\nPALINURUS, faithful steersman of Aeeas\n\nPALLADIUM, properly any image of Pallas Athene, but specially applied\nto an image at Troy, which was stolen by Ulysses and Diomedes\n\nPALLAS, son of Evander\n\nPALLAS A THE'NE (Minerva)\n\nPAMPHA GUS, a dog of Diana\n\nPAN, god of nature and the universe\n\nPANATHENAEA, festival in honor of Pallas Athene (Minerva)\n\nPANDEAN PIPES, musical instrument of reeds, made by Pan in memory of\nSyrinx\n\nPANDORA (all gifted), first woman, dowered with gifts by every god, yet\nentrusted with a box she was cautioned not to open, but, curious, she\nopened it, and out flew all the ills of humanity, leaving behind only\nHope, which remained\n\nPANDRASUS, a king in Greece, who persecuted Trojan exiles under Brutus,\ngreat grandson of Aeneas, until they fought, captured him, and, with\nhis daughter Imogen as Brutus' wife, emigrated to Albion (later called\nBritain)\n\nPANOPE, plain of\n\nPANTHUS, alleged earlier incarnation of Pythagoras\n\nPAPHLAGNIA, ancient country in Asia Minor, south of Black Sea\n\nPAPHOS, daughter of Pygmalion and Galatea (both of which, See)\n\nPARCAE See FATES\n\nPARIAHS, lowest caste of Hindus\n\nPARIS, son of Priam and Hecuba, who eloped with Helen (which. See)\n\nPARNASSIAN LAUREl, wreath from Parnassus, crown awarded to successful\npoets\n\nPARNASSUS, mountain near Delphi, sacred to Apollo and the Muses\n\nPARSEES, Persian fire worshippers (Zoroastrians), of whom there are\nstill thousands in Persia and India\n\nPARTHENON, the temple of Athene Parthenos (\"the Virgin\") on the\nAcropolis of Athens\n\nPASSEBREUL, Tristram's horse\n\nPATROCLUS, friend of Achilles, killed by Hector\n\nPECHEUR, King, uncle of Perceval\n\nPEERS, the\n\nPEG A SUS, winged horse, born from the sea foam and the blood of Medusa\n\nPELEUS, king of the Myrmidons, father of Achilles by Thetis\n\nPELIAS, usurping uncle of Jason\n\nPELION, mountain\n\nPELLEAS, knight of Arthur\n\nPENATES, protective household deities of the Romans\n\nPENDRAGON, King of Britain, elder brother of Uther Pendragon, who\nsucceeded him\n\nPENELOPE, wife of Ulysses, who, waiting twenty years for his return\nfrom the Trojan War, put off the suitors for her hand by promising to\nchoose one when her weaving was done, but unravelled at night what she\nhad woven by day\n\nPENEUS, river god, river\n\nPENTHESILEA, queen of Amazons\n\nPENTHEUS, king of Thebes, having resisted the introduction of the\nworship of Bacchus into his kingdom, was driven mad by the god\n\nPENUS, Roman house pantry, giving name to the Penates\n\nPEPIN, father of Charlemagne\n\nPEPLUS, sacred robe of Minerva\n\nPERCEVAL, a great knight of Arthur\n\nPERDIX, inventor of saw and compasses\n\nPERIANDER, King of Corinuh, friend of Arion\n\nPERIPHETES, son of Vulcan, killed by Theseus\n\nPERSEPHONE, goddess of vegetation, 8 See Pioserpine\n\nPERSEUS, son of Jupiter and Danae, slayer of the Gorgon Medusa,\ndeliverer of Andromeda from a sea monster, 116 122, 124, 202\n\nPHAEACIANS, people who entertained Ulysses\n\nPHAEDRA, faithless and cruel wife of Theseus\n\nPHAETHUSA, sister of Phaeton, 244\n\nPHAETON, son of Phoebus, who dared attempt to drive his father's sun\nchariot\n\nPHANTASOS, a son of Somnus, bringing strange images to sleeping men\n\nPHAON, beloved by Sappho\n\nPHELOT, knight of Wales\n\nPHEREDIN, friend of Tristram, unhappy lover of Isoude\n\nPHIDIAS, famous Greek sculptor\n\nPHILEMON, husband of Baucis\n\nPHILOCTETES, warrior who lighted the fatal pyre of Hercules\n\nPHILOE, burial place of Osiris\n\nPHINEUS, betrothed to Andromeda\n\nPHLEGETHON, fiery river of Hades\n\nPHOCIS\n\nPHOEBE, one of the sisters of Phaeton\n\nPHOEBUS (Apollo), god of music, prophecy, and archery, the sun god\n\nPHOENIX, a messenger to Achilles, also, a miraculous bird dying in fire\nby its own act and springing up alive from its own ashes\n\nPHORBAS, a companion of Aeneas, whose form was assumed by Neptune in\nluring Palinuras the helmsman from his roost\n\nPHRYXUS, brother of Helle\n\nPINABEL, knight\n\nPILLARS OF HERCULES, two mountains--Calpe, now the Rock of Gibraltar,\nsouthwest corner of Spain in Europe, and Abyla, facing it in Africa\nacross the strait\n\nPINDAR, famous Greek poet\n\nPINDUS, Grecian mountain\n\nPIRENE, celebrated fountain at Corinth\n\nPIRITHOUS, king of the Lapithae in Thessaly, and friend of Theseus,\nhusband of Hippodamia\n\nPLEASURE, daughter of Cupid and Psyche\n\nPLEIADES, seven of Diana's nymphs, changed into stars, one being lost\n\nPLENTY, the Horn of\n\nPLEXIPPUS, brother of Althea\n\nPLINY, Roman naturalist\n\nPLUTO, the same as Hades, Dis, etc. god of the Infernal Regions\n\nPLUTUS, god of wealth\n\nPO, Italian river\n\nPOLE STAR\n\nPOLITES, youngest son of Priam of Troy\n\nPOLLUX, Castor and (Dioscuri, the Twins) (See Castor)\n\nPOLYDECTES, king of Seriphus\n\nPOLYDORE, slain kinsman of Aeneas, whose blood nourished a bush that\nbled when broken\n\nPOLYHYMNIA, Muse of oratory and sacred song\n\nPOLYIDUS, soothsayer\n\nPOLYNICES, King of Thebes\n\nPOLYPHEMUS, giant son of Neptune\n\nPOLYXENA, daughter of King Priam of Troy\n\nPOMONA, goddess of fruit trees (See VERTUMNUS)\n\nPORREX and FER'REX, sons of Leir, King of Britain\n\nPORTUNUS, Roman name for Palaemon\n\nPOSEIDON (Neptune), ruler of the ocean\n\nPRECIPICE, threshold of Helas hall\n\nPRESTER JOHN, a rumored priest or presbyter, a Christian pontiff in\nUpper Asia, believed in but never found\n\nPRIAM, king of Troy\n\nPRIWEN, Arthur's shield\n\nPROCRIS, beloved but jealous wife of Cephalus\n\nPROCRUSTES, who seized travellers and bound them on his iron bed,\nstretching the short ones and cutting short the tall, thus also himself\nserved by Theseus\n\nPROETUS, jealous of Bellerophon\n\nPROMETHEUS, creator of man, who stole fire from heaven for man's use\n\nPROSERPINE, the same as Persephone, goddess of all growing things,\ndaughter of Ceres, carried off by Pluto\n\nPROTESILAUS, slain by Hector the Trojan, allowed by the gods to return\nfor three hours' talk with his widow Laodomia\n\nPROTEUS, the old man of the sea\n\nPRUDENCE (Metis), spouse of Jupiter\n\nPRYDERI, son of Pwyll\n\nPSYCHE, a beautiful maiden, personification of the human soul, sought\nby Cupid (Love), to whom she responded, lost him by curiosity to see\nhim (as he came to her only by night), but finally through his prayers\nwas made immortal and restored to him, a symbol of immortality\n\nPURANAS, Hindu Scriptures\n\nPWYLL, Prince of Dyved\n\nPYGMALION, sculptor in love with a statue he had made, brought to life\nby Venus, brother of Queen Dido\n\nPYGMIES, nation of dwarfs, at war with the Cranes\n\nPYLADES, son of Straphius, friend of Orestes\n\nPYRAMUS, who loved Thisbe, next door neighbor, and, their parents\nopposing, they talked through cracks in the house wall, agreeing to\nmeet in the near by woods, where Pyramus, finding a bloody veil and\nthinking Thisbe slain, killed himself, and she, seeing his body, killed\nherself (Burlesqued in Shakespeare's \"Midsummer Night's Dream\")\n\nPYRRHA, wife of Deucalion\n\nPYRRHUS (Neoptolemus), son of Achilles\n\nPYTHAGORAS, Greek philosopher (540 BC), who thought numbers to be the\nessence and principle of all things, and taught transmigration of souls\nof the dead into new life as human or animal beings\n\nPYTHIA, priestess of Apollo at Delphi\n\nPYTHIAN GAMES\n\nPYTHIAN ORACLE\n\nPYTHON, serpent springing from Deluge slum, destroyed by Apollo\n\n\nQ\n\nQUIRINUS (from quiris, a lance or spear), a war god, said to be\nRomulus, founder of Rome\n\n\nR\n\nRABICAN, noted horse\n\nRAGNAROK, the twilight (or ending) of the gods\n\nRAJPUTS, minor Hindu caste\n\nREGAN, daughter of Leir\n\nREGILLUS, lake in Latium, noted for battle fought near by between the\nRomans and the Latins\n\nREGGIO, family from which Rogero sprang\n\nREMUS, brother of Romulus, founder of Rome\n\nRHADAMANTHUS, son of Jupiter and Europa after his death one of the\njudges in the lower world\n\nRHAPSODIST, professional reciter of poems among the Greeks\n\nRHEA, female Titan, wife of Saturn (Cronos), mother of the chief gods,\nworshipped in Greece and Rome\n\nRHINE, river\n\nRHINE MAIDENS, OR DAUGHTERS, three water nymphs, Flosshilda, Woglinda,\nand Wellgunda, set to guard the Nibelungen Hoard, buried in the Rhine\n\nRHODES, one of the seven cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nRHODOPE, mountain in Thrace\n\nRHONGOMYANT, Arthur's lance\n\nRHOECUS, a youth, beloved by a Dryad, but who brushed away a bee sent\nby her to call him to her, and she punished him with blindness\n\nRHIANNON, wife of Pwyll\n\nRINALDO, one of the bravest knights of Charlemagne\n\nRIVER OCEAN, flowing around the earth\n\nROBERT DE BEAUVAIS', Norman poet (1257)\n\nROBIN HOOD, famous outlaw in English legend, about time of Richard\nCoeur de Lion\n\nROCKINGHAM, forest of\n\nRODOMONT, king of Algiers\n\nROGERO, noted Saracen knight\n\nROLAND (Orlando), See Orlando\n\nROMANCES\n\nROMANUS, legendary great grandson of Noah\n\nROME\n\nROMULUS, founder of Rome\n\nRON, Arthur's lance\n\nRONCES VALLES', battle of\n\nROUND TABLE King Arthur's instituted by Merlin the Sage for Pendragon,\nArthur's father, as a knightly order, continued and made famous by\nArthur and his knights\n\nRUNIC CHARACTERS, or runes, alphabetic signs used by early Teutonic\npeoples, written or graved on metal or stone\n\nRUTULIANS, an ancient people in Italy, subdued at an early period by\nthe Romans\n\nRYENCE, king in Ireland\n\n\nS\n\nSABRA, maiden for whom Severn River was named, daughter of Locrine and\nEstrildis thrown into river Severn by Locrine's wife, transformed to a\nriver nymph, poetically named Sabrina\n\nSACRIPANT, king of Circassia\n\nSAFFIRE, Sir, knight of Arthur\n\nSAGAS, Norse tales of heroism, composed by the Skalds\n\nSAGRAMOUR, knight of Arthur\n\nSt. MICHAEL'S MOUNT, precipitous pointed rock hill on the coast of\nBrittany, opposite Cornwall\n\nSAKYASINHA, the Lion, epithet applied to Buddha\n\nSALAMANDER, a lizard like animal, fabled to be able to live in fire\n\nSALAMIS, Grecian city\n\nSALMONEUS, son of Aeolus and Enarete and brother of Sisyphus\n\nSALOMON, king of Brittany, at Charlemagne's court\n\nSAMHIN, or \"fire of peace,\" a Druidical festival\n\nSAMIAN SAGE (Pythagoras)\n\nSAMOS, island in the Aegean Sea\n\nSAMOTHRACIAN GODS, a group of agricultural divinities, worshipped in\nSamothrace\n\nSAMSON, Hebrew hero, thought by some to be original of Hercules\n\nSAN GREAL (See Graal, the Holy)\n\nSAPPHO, Greek poetess, who leaped into the sea from promontory of\nLeucadia in disappointed love for Phaon\n\nSARACENS, followers of Mahomet\n\nSARPEDON, son of Jupiter and Europa, killed by Patroclus\n\nSATURN (Cronos)\n\nSATURNALIA, a annual festival held by Romans in honor of Saturn\n\nSATURNIA, an ancient name of Italy\n\nSATYRS, male divinities of the forest, half man, half goat\n\nSCALIGER, famous German scholar of 16th century\n\nSCANDINAVIA, mythology of, giving account of Northern gods, heroes, etc\n\nSCHERIA, mythical island, abode of the Phaeacians\n\nSCHRIMNIR, the boar, cooked nightly for the heroes of Valhalla becoming\nwhole every morning\n\nSCIO, one of the island cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nSCOPAS, King of Thessaly\n\nSCORPION, constellation\n\nSCYLLA, sea nymph beloved by Glaucus, but changed by jealous Circe to a\nmonster and finally to a dangerous rock on the Sicilian coast, facing\nthe whirlpool Charybdis, many mariners being wrecked between the two,\nalso, daughter of King Nisus of Megara, who loved Minos, besieging her\nfather's city, but he disliked her disloyalty and drowned her, also, a\nfair virgin of Sicily, friend of sea nymph Galatea\n\nSCYROS, where Theseus was slain\n\nSCYTHIA, country lying north of Euxine Sea\n\nSEMELE, daughter of Cadmus and, by Jupiter, mother of Bacchus\n\nSEMIRAMIS, with Ninus the mythical founder of the Assyrian empire of\nNineveh\n\nSENAPUS, King of Abyssinia, who entertained Astolpho\n\nSERAPIS, or Hermes, Egyptian divinity of Tartarus and of medicine\n\nSERFS, slaves of the land\n\nSERIPHUS, island in the Aegean Sea, one of the Cyclades\n\nSERPENT (Northern constellation)\n\nSESTOS, dwelling of Hero (which See also Leander)\n\n\"SEVEN AGAINST THEBES,\" famous Greek expedition\n\nSEVERN RIVER, in England\n\nSEVINUS, Duke of Guienne\n\nSHALOTT, THE LADY OF\n\nSHATRIYA, Hindu warrior caste\n\nSHERASMIN, French chevalier\n\nSIBYL, prophetess of Cumae\n\nSICHAEUS, husband of Dido\n\nSEIGE PERILOUS, the chair of purity at Arthur's Round Table, fatal to\nany but him who was destined to achieve the quest of the Sangreal (See\nGalahad)\n\nSIEGFRIED, young King of the Netherlands, husband of Kriemhild, she\nboasted to Brunhild that Siegfried had aided Gunther to beat her in\nathletic contests, thus winning her as wife, and Brunhild, in anger,\nemployed Hagan to murder Siegfried. As hero of Wagner's \"Valkyrie,\" he\nwins the Nibelungen treasure ring, loves and deserts Brunhild, and is\nslain by Hagan\n\nSIEGLINDA, wife of Hunding, mother of Siegfried by Siegmund\n\nSIEGMUND, father of Siegfried\n\nSIGTRYG, Prince, betrothed of King Alef's daughter, aided by Hereward\n\nSIGUNA, wife of Loki\n\nSILENUS, a Satyr, school master of Bacchus\n\nSILURES (South Wales)\n\nSILVIA, daughter of Latin shepherd\n\nSILVIUS, grandson of Aeneas, accidentally killed in the chase by his\nson Brutus\n\nSIMONIDES, an early poet of Greece\n\nSINON, a Greek spy, who persuaded the Trojans to take the Wooden Horse\ninto their city\n\nSIRENS, sea nymphs, whose singing charmed mariners to leap into the\nsea, passing their island, Ulysses stopped the ears of his sailors with\nwax, and had himself bound to the mast so that he could hear but not\nyield to their music\n\nSIRIUS, the dog of Orion, changed to the Dog star\n\nSISYPHUS, condemned in Tartarus to perpetually roll up hill a big rock\nwhich, when the top was reached, rolled down again\n\nSIVA, the Destroyer, third person of the Hindu triad of gods\n\nSKALDS, Norse bards and poets\n\nSKIDBLADNIR, Freyr's ship\n\nSKIRNIR, Frey's messenger, who won the god's magic sword by getting him\nGerda for his wife\n\nSKRYMIR, a giant, Utgard Loki in disguise, who fooled Thor in athletic\nfeats\n\nSKULD, the Norn of the Future\n\nSLEEP, twin brother of Death\n\nSLEIPNIR, Odin's horse\n\nSOBRINO, councillor to Agramant\n\nSOMNUS, child of Nox, twin brother of Mors, god of sleep\n\nSOPHOCLES, Greek tragic dramatist\n\nSOUTH WIND See Notus\n\nSPAR'TA, capital of Lacedaemon\n\nSPHINX, a monster, waylaying the road to Thebes and propounding riddles\nto all passers, on pain of death, for wrong guessing, who killed\nherself in rage when Aedipus guessed aright\n\nSPRING\n\nSTONEHENGE, circle of huge upright stones, fabled to be sepulchre of\nPendragon\n\nSTROPHIUS, father of Pylades\n\nSTYGIAN REALM, Hades\n\nSTYGIAN SLEEP, escaped from the beauty box sent from Hades to Venus by\nhand of Psyche, who curiously opened the box and was plunged into\nunconsciousness\n\nSTYX, river, bordering Hades, to be crossed by all the dead\n\nSUDRAS, Hindu laboring caste\n\nSURTUR, leader of giants against the gods in the day of their\ndestruction (Norse mythology)\n\nSURYA, Hindu god of the sun, corresponding to the Greek Helios\n\nSUTRI, Orlando's birthplace\n\nSVADILFARI, giant's horse\n\nSWAN, LEDA AND\n\nSYBARIS, Greek city in Southern Italy, famed for luxury\n\nSYLVANUS, Latin divinity identified with Pan\n\nSYMPLEGADES, floating rocks passed by the Argonauts\n\nSYRINX, nymph, pursued by Pan, but escaping by being changed to a bunch\nof reeds (See Pandean pipes)\n\n\nT\n\nTACITUS, Roman historian\n\nTAENARUS, Greek entrance to lower regions\n\nTAGUS, river in Spain and Portugal\n\nTALIESIN, Welsh bard\n\nTANAIS, ancient name of river Don\n\nTANTALUS, wicked king, punished in Hades by standing in water that\nretired when he would drink, under fruit trees that withdrew when he\nwould eat\n\nTARCHON, Etruscan chief\n\nTARENTUM, Italian city\n\nTARPEIAN ROCK, in Rome, from which condemned criminals were hurled\n\nTARQUINS, a ruling family in early Roman legend\n\nTAURIS, Grecian city, site of temple of Diana (See Iphigenia)\n\nTAURUS, a mountain\n\nTARTARUS, place of confinement of Titans, etc, originally a black abyss\nbelow Hades later, represented as place where the wicked were punished,\nand sometimes the name used as synonymous with Hades\n\nTEIRTU, the harp of\n\nTELAMON, Greek hero and adventurer, father of Ajax\n\nTELEMACHUS, son of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nTELLUS, another name for Rhea\n\nTENEDOS, an island in Aegean Sea\n\nTERMINUS, Roman divinity presiding over boundaries and frontiers\n\nTERPSICHORE, Muse of dancing\n\nTERRA, goddess of the earth\n\nTETHYS, goddess of the sea\n\nTEUCER, ancient king of the Trojans\n\nTHALIA, one of the three Graces\n\nTHAMYRIS, Thracian bard, who challenged the Muses to competition in\nsinging, and, defeated, was blinded\n\nTHAUKT, Loki disguised as a hag\n\nTHEBES, city founded by Cadmus and capital of Boeotia\n\nTHEMIS, female Titan, law counsellor of Jove\n\nTHEODORA, sister of Prince Leo\n\nTHERON, one of Diana's dogs\n\nTHERSITES, a brawler, killed by Achilles\n\nTHESCELUS, foe of Perseus, turned to stone by sight of Gorgon's head\n\nTHESEUM, Athenian temple in honor of Theseus\n\nTHESEUS, son of Aegeus and Aethra, King of Athens, a great hero of many\nadventures\n\nTHESSALY\n\nTHESTIUS, father of Althea\n\nTHETIS, mother of Achilles\n\nTHIALFI, Thor's servant\n\nTHIS'BE, Babylonian maiden beloved by Pyramus\n\nTHOR, the thunderer, of Norse mythology, most popular of the gods\n\nTHRACE\n\nTHRINA'KIA, island pasturing Hyperion's cattle, where Ulysses landed,\nbut, his men killing some cattle for food, their ship was wrecked by\nlightning\n\nTHRYM, giant, who buried Thor's hammer\n\nTHUCYDIDES, Greek historian\n\nTIBER, river flowing through Rome\n\nTIBER, FATHER, god of the river\n\nTIGRIS, river\n\nTINTADEL, castle of, residence of King Mark of Cornwall\n\nTIRESIAS, a Greek soothsayer\n\nTISIPHONE, one of the Furies\n\nTITANS, the sons and daughters of Uranus (Heaven) and Gaea (Earth),\nenemies of the gods and overcome by them\n\nTITHONUS, Trojan prince\n\nTITYUS, giant in Tartarus\n\nTMOLUS, a mountain god\n\nTORTOISE, second avatar of Vishnu\n\nTOURS, battle of (See Abdalrahman and Charles Martel)\n\nTOXEUS, brother of Melauger's mother, who snatched from Atalanta her\nhunting trophy, and was slain by Melauger, who had awarded it to her\n\nTRIAD, the Hindu\n\nTRIADS, Welsh poems\n\nTRIMURTI, Hindu Triad\n\nTRIPTOL'EMUS, son of Celeus , and who, made great by Ceres, founded her\nworship in Eleusis\n\nTRISTRAM, one of Arthur's knights, husband of Isoude of the White\nHands, lover of Isoude the Fair.\n\nTRITON, a demi god of the sea, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and Amphitrite\n\nTROEZEN, Greek city of Argolis\n\nTROJAN WAR\n\nTROJANOVA, New Troy, City founded in Britain (See Brutus, and Lud)\n\nTROPHONIUS, oracle of, in Boeotia\n\nTROUBADOURS, poets and minstrels of Provence, in Southern France\n\nTROUVERS', poets and minstrels of Northern France\n\nTROY, city in Asia Minor, ruled by King Priam, whose son, Paris, stole\naway Helen, wife of Menelaus the Greek, resulting in the Trojan War and\nthe destruction of Troy\n\nTROY, fall of\n\nTURNUS, chief of the Rutulianes in Italy, unsuccessful rival of Aeneas\nfor Lavinia\n\nTURPIN, Archbishop of Rheims\n\nTURQUINE, Sir, a great knight, foe of Arthur, slain by Sir Launcelot\n\nTYPHON, one of the giants who attacked the gods, were defeated, and\nimprisoned under Mt. Aetna\n\nTYR, Norse god of battles\n\nTYRE, Phoenician city governed by Dido\n\nTYRIANS\n\nTYRRHEUS, herdsman of King Turnus in Italy, the slaying of whose\ndaughter's stag aroused war upon Aeneas and his companions\n\n\nU\n\nUBERTO, son of Galafron\n\nULYSSES (Greek, Odysseus), hero of the Odyssey\n\nUNICORN, fabled animal with a single horn\n\nURANIA, one of the Muses, a daughter of Zeus by Mnemosyne\n\nURDUR, one of the Norns or Fates of Scandinavia, representing the Past\n\nUSK, British river\n\nUTGARD, abode of the giant Utgard Loki\n\nUTGARD LO'KI, King of the Giants (See Skrymir)\n\nUTHER (Uther Pendragon), king of Britain and father of Arthur.\n\nUWAINE, knight of Arthur's court\n\n\nV\n\nVAISSYAS, Hindu caste of agriculturists and traders\n\nVALHALLA, hall of Odin, heavenly residence of slain heroes\n\nVALKYRIE, armed and mounted warlike virgins, daughters of the gods\n(Norse), Odin's messengers, who select slain heroes for Valhalla and\nserve them at their feasts\n\nVE, brother of Odin\n\nVEDAS, Hindu sacred Scriptures\n\nVENEDOTIA, ancient name for North Wales\n\nVENUS (Aphrodite), goddess of beauty\n\nVENUS DE MEDICI, famous antique statue in Uffizi Gallery, Florence,\nItaly\n\nVERDANDI, the Present, one of the Norns\n\nVERTUMNUS, god of the changing seasons, whose varied appearances won\nthe love of Pomona\n\nVESTA, daughter of Cronos and Rhea, goddess of the homefire, or hearth\n\nVESTALS, virgin priestesses in temple of Vesta\n\nVESUVIUS, Mount, volcano near Naples\n\nVILLAINS, peasants in the feudal scheme\n\nVIGRID, final battle-field, with destruction of the gods ind their\nenemies, the sun, the earth, and time itself\n\nVILI, brother of Odin and Ve\n\nVIRGIL, celebrated Latin poet (See Aeneid)\n\nVIRGO, constellation of the Virgin, representing Astraea, goddess of\ninnocence and purity\n\nVISHNU, the Preserver, second of the three chief Hindu gods\n\nVIVIANE, lady of magical powers, who allured the sage Merlin and\nimprisoned him in an enchanted wood\n\nVOLSCENS, Rutulian troop leader who killed Nisus and Euryalus\n\nVOLSUNG, A SAGA, an Icelandic poem, giving about the same legends as\nthe Nibelungen Lied\n\nVORTIGERN, usurping King of Britain, defeated by Pendragon 390, 397\n\nVULCAN (Greek, Haephestus), god of fire and metal working, with forges\nunder Aetna, husband of Venus\n\nVYA'SA, Hindu sage\n\n\nW\n\nWAIN, the, constellation\n\nWELLGUNDA, one of the Rhine-daughters.\n\nWELSH LANGUAGE\n\nWESTERN OCEAN\n\nWINDS, THE\n\nWINTER\n\nWODEN, chief god in the Norse mythology, Anglo Saxon for Odin.\n\nWOGLINDA, one of the Rhine-daughters.\n\nWOMAN, creation of.\n\nWOODEN HORSE, the, filled with armed men, but left outside of Troy as a\npretended offering to Minerva when the Greeks feigned to sail away,\naccepted by the Trojans (See Sinon, and Laocoon), brought into the\ncity, and at night emptied of the hidden Greek soldiers, who destroyed\nthe town.\n\nWOOD NYMPHS\n\nWOTAN, Old High German form of Odin.\n\n\nX\n\nXANTHUS, river of Asia Minor.\n\n\nY\n\nYAMA, Hindu god of the Infernal Regions.\n\nYEAR, THE\n\nYGDRASIL, great ash-tree, supposed by Norse mythology to support the\nuniverse.\n\nYMIR, giant, slain by Odin.\n\nYNYWL, Earl, host of Geraint, father of Enid.\n\nYORK, Britain.\n\nYSERONE, niece of Arthur, mother of Caradoc.\n\nYSPA DA DEN PEN'KAWR, father of Olwen.\n\n\nZ\n\nZENDAVESTA, Persian sacred Scriptures.\n\nZEPHYRUS, god of the South wind.\n\nZERBINO, a knight, son of the king of Scotland.\n\nZETES, winged warrior, companion of Theseus.\n\nZETHUS, son of Jupiter and Antiope, brother of Amphion. See Dirce.\n\nZEUS, See JUPITER.\n\nZOROASTER, founder of the Persian religion, which was dominant in\nWestern Asia from about 550 BC to about 650 AD, and is still held by\nmany thousands in Persia and in India","title":"Legends of Charlemagne","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":98344}