Читать книгу Orlando Furioso - Lodovico Ariosto - Страница 10

XXXV

"Nor were they thine to take or to bestow,

Would it appear that such exchange were wise;

Thou sayest to save him from what stars foreshow,

And cheat an evil influence of the skies

Rogero is confined. Thou canst not know,

Or knowing, canst not change his destinies:

For, if unknown an ill so near to thee,

Far less mayest thou another's fate foresee.

XXXVI

"Seek not thy death from me; for the petition

Is made in vain; but if for death thou sigh,

Though the whole world refused the requisition,

A soul resolved would find the means to die.

But ope thy gates to give thy guests dismission

Before thine hand the knot of life untie."

So spake the scornful dame with angry mock,

Speeding her captive still towards the rock.

XXXVII

Round by the conqueror with the chain he bore,

Atlantes walked, the damsel following nigh,

Who trusted not to the magician hoar,

Although he seemed subdued in port and eye.

Nor many paces went the pair, before

They at the mountain's foot the cleft espy,

With steps by which the rugged hill to round;

And climb, till to the castle-gate they wound:

XXXVIII

Atlantes from the threshold, graved by skill,

With characters and wondrous signs, upturned

A virtuous stone, where, underneath the sill,

Pots, with perpetual fire and secret, burned.

The enchanter breaks them; and at once the hill

To an inhospitable rock is turned.

Nor wall nor tower on any side is seen,

As if no castle there had ever been.

XXXIX

Then from the lady's toils the wizard clears

His limbs, as thrush escapes the fowler's snare;

With him as well his castle disappears,

And leaves the prisoned troop in open air;

From their gay lodgings, dames and cavaliers,

Unhoused upon that desert, bleak and bare.

And many at the freedom felt annoy,

Which dispossessed them of such life of joy.

XL

There is Gradasso, there is Sacripant,

There is Prasildo, noble cavalier,

Who with Rinaldo came from the Levant;

Iroldo, too, Prasildo's friend sincere.

And there, at last, the lovely Bradamant

Discerns Rogero, long desired and dear;

Who, when assured it was that lady, flew

With joyful cheer to greet the damsel true;

XLI

As her he prized before his eyes, his heart,

His life; from that day cherished when she stood

Uncasqued for him, and from the fight apart;

And hence an arrow drank her virgin blood.

'Twere long to tell who launched the cruel dart,

And how the lovers wandered in the wood;

Now guided by the sun, and now benighted,

Here first since that encounter reunited.

XLII

Now that the stripling sees her here, and knows

Alone she freed him from the wizard's nest,

He deems, his bosom with such joy overflows,

That he is singly fortunate and blest.

Thither, where late the damsel conquered, goes

The band, descending from the mountain's crest;

And finds the hippogryph, who bore the shield,

But in its case of crimson silk concealed.

XLIII

To take him by the rein the lady there

Approached, and he stood fast till she was nigh,

Then spread his pinions to the liquid air,

And at short distance lit, half-mountain high:

And, as she follows him with fruitless care,

Not longer flight nor shorter will he try.

'Tis thus the raven, on some sandy beach,

Lures on the dog, and flits beyond his reach.

XLIV

Gradasso, Sacripant, Rogero, who

With all those other knights below were met,

Where'er, they hope he may return, pursue

The beast, and up and down, each pass beset.

He having led those others, as he flew,

Often to rocky height, and bottom wet,

Among the rocks of the moist valley dropt,

And at short distance from Rogero stopt.

XLV

This was Atlantes the enchanter's deed,

Whose pious wishes still directed were,

To see Rogero from his peril freed:

This was his only thought, his only care;

Who for such end dispatched the winged steed,

Him out of Europe by this sleight to bear.

Rogero took his bridle, but in vain;

For he was restive to the guiding rein.

XLVI

Now the bold youth from his Frontino flings

(Frontino was his gentle courser hight)

Then leaps on him who towers in air, and stings

And goads his haughty heart with rowels bright.

He runs a short career; then upward springs.

And through mid ether soars a fairer flight

Than hawk, from which the falconer plucks away

In time the blinding hood, and points her prey.

XLVII

When her Rogero the fair dame discerned,

In fearful peril, soar so high a strain,

She stood long space amazed, ere she returned

To her right judgement, and sound wits again:

And what she erst of Ganymede had learned,

Snatched up to heaven from his paternal reign,

Feared might befall the stripling, born through air,

As gentle as young Ganymede and fair.

XLVIII

She on Rogero looks with stedfast eyes

As long as feeble sight can serve her use;

And in her mind next tracks him through the skies,

When sight in vain the cherished youth pursues.

And still renewing tears, and groans, and sighs,

Will not afford her sorrow peace or truce.

After the knight had vanished from her view,

Her eyes she on the good Frontino threw.

XLIX

And lest the courser should become the prey

Of the first traveller, who passed the glen,

Him will not leave; but thence to bear away

Resolves, in trust to see his lord again.

The griffin soars, nor can Rogero stay

The flying courser; while, beneath his ken,

Each peak and promontory sinks in guise,

That he discerns not flat from mountain-rise.

L

After the hippogryph has won such height,

That he is lessened to a point, he bends

His course for where the sun, with sinking light,

When he goes round the heavenly crab, descends;

And shoots through air, like well-greased bark and light,

Which through the sea a wind propitious sends.

Him leave we on his way, who well shall speed,

And turn we to Rinaldo in his need.

LI

Day after day the good Rinaldo fares,

Forced by the wind, the spacious ocean through;

Now westward borne, and now toward the Bears;

For night and day the ceaseless tempest blew.

Scotland at last her dusky coast uprears,

And gives the Caledonian wood to view;

Which, through its shadowy groves of ancient oak,

Oft echoes to the champion's sturdy stroke.

LII

Through this roves many a famous cavalier,

Renowned for feat in arms, of British strain;

And throng from distant land, or country near,

French, Norse, of German knights, a numerous train.

Let none, save he be valiant, venture here,

Where, seeking glory, death may be his gain.

Here Arthur, Galahalt, and Gauvaine fought,

And well Sir Launcelot and Tristram wrought.

LIII

And other worthies of the table round;

(Of either table, whether old or new)

Whose trophies yet remain upon the ground;

Proof of their valiant feats, Rinaldo true

Forthwith his armour and Bayardo found,

And landed on the woody coast: The crew

He bade, with all the haste they might, repair

To Berwick's neighbouring port, and wait him there.

LIV

Without a guide or company he went

Through that wide forest; choosing now this way,

Now that, now other, as it might present

Hope of adventurous quest or hard assay:

And, ere the first day's circling sun is spent,

The peer is guested in an abbey gray:

Which spends much wealth in harbouring those who claim

Its shelter, warlike knight or wandering dame.

LV

The monks and abbot to Mount Alban's peer

A goodly welcome in their house accord;

Who asked, but not before with savoury cheer

He amply had his wearied strength restored,

If in that tract, by errant cavalier,

Often adventurous quest might be explored,

In which a man might prove, by dangerous deed,

If blame or glory were his fitting meed.

LVI

They answered, in those woods he might be sure

Many and strange adventures would be found;

But deeds, there wrought, were, like the place, obscure,

And, for the greater part, not bruited round.

"Then seek (they said) a worthier quest, secure

Your works will not be buried underground.

So that the glorious act achieved, as due,

Fame may your peril and your pain pursue.

LVII

"And if you would your warlike worth assay,

Prepare the worthiest enterprize to hear,

That, e'er in times of old or present day,

Was undertaken by a cavalier.

Our monarch's daughter needs some friendly stay,

Now sore bested, against a puissant peer:

Lurcanio is the doughty baron's name,

Who would bereave her both of life and fame.

LVIII

"Her he before her father does pursue,

Perchance yet more for hatred than for right;

And vouches, to a gallery she updrew

A lover, seen by him, at dead of night.

Hence death by fire will be the damsel's due,

Such is our law, unless some champion fight

On her behalf, and, ere a month go by,

(Nigh spent) upon the accuser prove the lie.

LIX

"Our impious Scottish law, severe and dread,

Wills, that a woman, whether low or high

Her state, who takes a man into her bed,

Except her husband, for the offence shall die.

Nor is there hope of ransom for her head,

Unless to her defence some warrior hie;

And as her champion true, with spear and shield,

Maintain her guiltless in the listed field.

LX

"The king, sore grieving for Geneura bright,

For such is his unhappy daughter's name,

Proclaims by town and city, that the knight

Who shall deliver her from death and shame,

He to the royal damsel will unite,

With dower, well suited to a royal dame;

So that the valiant warrior who has stood

In her defence, be come of gentle blood.

LXI

"But if within a month no knight appear,

Or coming, conquer not, the damsel dies.

A like emrpize were worthier of your spear

Than wandering through these woods in lowly guise.

Besides, the eternal trophy you shall rear,

You by the deed shall gain a glorious prize,

The sweetest flower of all the ladies fair

That betwixt Ind and Atlas' pillars are.

LXII

"And you with wealth and state shall guerdoned be,

So that you evermore may live content,

And the king's grace, if through your means he see

His honour raised anew, now well-nigh spent.

Besides, you by the laws of chivalry

Are bound to venge the damsel foully shent.

For she, whose life is by such treason sought,

Is chaste and spotless in the common thought."

LXIII

Rinaldo mused awhile, and then replied,

"And must a gentle damsel die by fire,

Because she with a lover's wish complied,

And quenched within her arms his fond desire?

Cursed be the law by which the dame is tried!

Cursed he who would permit a doom so dire!

Perish (such fate were just!) who cruel proves!

Not she that life bestows on him who loves.

LXIV

"Or true or false Geneura's tale of shame;

If she her lover blessed I little heed:

For this my praise the lady well might claim,

If manifest were not that gentle deed.

My every thought is turned to aid the dame.

Grant me but one to guide my steps, and lead

Quickly to where the foul accuser stands,

I trust in God to loose Geneura's bands.

LXV

"I will not vouch her guiltless in my thought,

In fear to warrant what is false; but I

Boldly maintain, in such an act is nought

For which the damsel should deserve to die;

And ween unjust, or else of wit distraught,

Who statutes framed of such severity;

Which, as iniquitous, should be effaced,

And with a new and better code replaced.

LXVI

"If like desire, and if an equal flame

Move one and the other sex, who warmly press

To that soft end of love (their goal the same)

Which to the witless crowd seems rank excess;

Say why shall woman—merit scathe or blame,

Though lovers, one or more, she may caress;

While man to sin with whom he will is free,

And meets with praise, not mere impunity?

LXVII

"By this injurious law, unequal still,

On woman is inflicted open wrong;

And to demonstrate it a grievous ill,

I trust in God, which has been borne too long."

To good Rinaldo's sentence, with one will,

Deeming their sires unjust, assents the throng,

Their sires who such outrageous statute penned,

And king, who might, but does not, this amend.

LXVIII

When the new dawn, with streaks of red and white,

Broke in the east, and cleared the hemisphere,

Rinaldo took his steed and armour bright:

A squire that abbey furnished to the peer.

With him, for many leagues and miles, the knight

Pricked through the dismal forest dark and drear;

While they towards the Scottish city ride,

Where the poor damsel's cause is to be tried.

LXIX

Seeking their way to shorten as they wound,

They to the wider track a path preferred;

When echoing through the gloomy forest round,

Loud lamentations nigh the road were heard.

Towards a neighbouring vale, whence came the sound,

This his Bayardo, that his hackney spurred;

And viewed, between two grisly ruffians there,

A girl, who seemed at distance passing fair.

LXX

But woe begone and weeping was the maid

As ever damsel dame, or wight was seen:

Hard by the barbarous twain prepared the blade,

To deluge with that damsel's blood the green.

She to delay her death awhile essayed,

Until she pity moved with mournful mien.

This when Rinaldo near approaching eyes,

He thither drives with threats and furious cries.

LXXI

The ruffians turn their backs and take to flight

As soon as they the distant succour view,

And squat within a valley out of sight:

Nor cares the good Rinaldo to pursue.

To her approaching, sues Mount Alban's knight,

To say what on her head such evil drew;

And, to save time, commands his squire to stoop,

And take the damsel on his horse's croup.

LXXII

And as the lady nearer he surveyed,

Her wise behaviour marked and beauty's bloom;

Though her fait countenance was all dismayed,

And by the fear of death o'erspread with gloom.

Again to know, the gentle knight essayed,

Who had prepared for her so fell a doom;

And she began to tell in humble tone

What to another canto I postpone.