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The menu at the top of the blog that listed each page of the poem and the notes has been simplified. It now has a link to a table-of-contents page, and a link to Part 1 of Canto I, to begin reading.
A PDF of the story thus far (cantos 1-16) is now available on the Table of Contents Page.
Current Status of the Kings:
BESIEGERS:
Agricane of Tartary
Saritrone of Mongolia – killed by Orlando
Radamanto of Moscow and Comana – killed by Orlando
Polifermo of Orgagna
Pandragone of Gothland
Argante of Russia
Lurcone of Norway – killed by Orlando
Santaría of Sweden
Brontino of Normany – killed by Orlando
Uldano of Denmark
VS.
BESIEGED:
Sacripante of Circassia.
Varano of Armenia – cut down by the rabble
Brunaldo of Trebisond – killed by Radamanto
Ungiano of Roase – killed by Radamanto
Savarone of Media – cut down by the rabble
Torindo of Turkey
Trufaldino of Babylon and Baghdad
Bordacco of Damascus – killed by Agricane
AND
REINFORCEMENTS
Gallifron of Cathay
Archiloro – killed by Agricane and the Tartars
Marfisa
The Orlando Innamorato in English, Book I, Canto XVI, Stanzas 41-64
41
“But the fierce battle which we twain have fought
And the fierce give-and-take of strikes and blows
Have forced me somewhat to adjust my thought.
I see I am a man of flesh and bone.
But by tomorrow, I’ll be further taught,
And which of us is greater shall be known.
And thou wilt see if I deserve renown
And truly am the flower and the crown.
42
“But now I pray thee as thou seekest fame,
To let me go in peace, Sir Cavalier,
If thou hast ever felt a lover’s flame,
I beg thee by what thou dost hold most dear.
I see my people scattered, brought to shame,
By that proud giant who does not know fear,,
And if thou let’st me save them from their ill,
If I can not repay thee, Heaven will.”
43
Although Orlando was a baron bold,
And by his hammering was sore distressed,
And burns to pay him for it sevenfold,
Yet he does not refuse the King’s request.
A highborn lover cannot be so cold
As not to answer Courtesy’s requests.
Orlando puts away his trenchant blade,
And offers Agricane all his aid.
44
But he, who all assistance holds in scorn,
Just like a man who’s full of arrogance,
Turns on Baiard, the best steed ever born,
And from a nearby squire grabs a lance.
His people see him come, and, once forlorn,
Their hearts leap up, and shines each countenance;
They shout their war-cry, and again they fight;
All of the men return, who took to flight.
45
King Agricane with his crown of gold
Rallies his troops and sets them all to rights;
His place as leader of them all he holds.
On Baiard, who could match an arrow’s flight,
To Archilor, with fury uncontrolled
He speeds. The giant stands, secure in might,
His shield upon his arm, hammer in hand,
His breastplate crimson with the blood of man.
46
All of enamel wrought and ivory,
The Negro’s shield was, and four fingers thick.
King Agricane’s steel goes easily
Through it, but goes no farther. There he sticks,
And Archiloro stands immovably.
He is not fazed the slightest by that prick.
He swings his mighty hammer at the lance.
A thousand splinters through the ether dance.
47
But the proud king is not a whit surprised,
Though few have ever seen so great a blow.
No sooner had his lance been atomized,
Than do his fingers to his sword hilt go,
And with the steed whom all men so much prized,
He sets about to wreak the giant woe.
Now on the side he strikes, now front, now back.
One thing he never does, and that is slack.
48
The giant stands unmoved on his two legs,
Just as atop a castle stands a turret.
He moves no more than do a mountain’s crags,
Save to bring down his hammer (much I’d fear it!)
The king behind, before, around, zig-zags
On the good steed, who’s swifter than a spirit.
Great Archiloro deals his blows in vain,
So swift are Baiard’s hooves, so keen his brain.
49
The folk on either side now watch and wait,
The Tartars and the Indians, I mean,
As if the fight were just between these greats,
And they could take their ease upon the green.
Some stand, some sit. Their labors all abate,
And cheer their champions, who are bold and keen.
While everyone is watching, chatting, resting,
Lo! Archiloro deals a blow oppressing.
50
He’s thrown away his shield, to use both hands;
If he’d hit Agrican, he would have died.
The hammer sinks so far into the sand
He couldn’t pull it out, though much he tried.
Agrican, looking on, soon understands
He’d left his arms unarmored, in his pride.
He swings his sword down with so deft a twist
He lopped off both the brute’s hands at the wrist.
51
His hands as tightly round the hilt remain
As ivy wrapped around an old fence post,
And soon a mob of troops upon him came,
And through a thousand wounds departs his ghost.
Each Tartar wishes to avenge his shame,
For he that day had slain a mighty host.
King Agrican moved on. That worthy lord
Thought him unworthy to die by his sword.
52
And so he’s finished by the Tartar herds,
As I have said, and ev’ry man flocks round
While Agricane, having left him, spurred
The good Baiard into the Indians’ ground,
And such a dreadful slaughter soon incurred,
No words fit to describe it can be found.
The king chops, cuts, and dices all he can.
He’s joined by Poliferno and Uldan.
53
These two kings had been lying on the ground,
Devoid of sense, as if they had been dead,
Since Archiloro’s hammer had them found,
Which hurt them grievously, as I have said.
But both of them had lately come around
And now their troops in battle-lust they led
Into the Indian ranks. They slash and hack,
And wreak their vengeance on the people black.
54
They take no rest, no more than if they tried
To save their darling child from a fire;
King Agrican looks on with smile wide.
He chases not the rabble; he aims higher.
Now you must now Marfisa did abide
Two miles from the fight, or slightly nigher.
By the banks of a river, on the grass,
In the shade sleepeth the redoubted lass.
55
Her heart is arrogant; lofty her mind;
She does not wish to earn fame or renown
Against a baron more than some low hind,
Only against a head that wears a crown.
So now she’s sleeping underneath a pine
Where the sweet babble of the brook is found.
But ere she’d lighted from her good destrier,
She’d spoken to her maid as you shall hear.
56
(This damsel was Marfisa’s chambermaid)
“Hearken now to my words,” Marfisa said;
When thou shalt see retreating our brigade,
And Gallifrone prisoner or dead,
And that our banner on the ground is laid,
Then bring my horse and rouse me from this bed.
Until that happens, let me sleep in peace,
For I alone can make this war to cease.”
57
After her speech, she rests her lovely head
Upon the grass, but stays in armor clad;
She sleeps as sound as if she’d made her bed
Behind the strongest walls that could be had.
Now let us speak about the armies led
From India. The case looked very bad.
They break, they flee, in a disgraceful manner,
Thinking not of their cause or of their banner.
58
King Gallifrone’s foaming at the teeth
When he beholds his people turn and fly.
He spurs his horse like one consumed by grief;
If he can conquer not, he fain would die.
His daughter, of the Rock’s defenders chief,
Beholds the peril that he comes so nigh,
And fearing for him, as her nature bade,
She sends to Count Orlando, seeking aid.
59
She sends to ask him, to at once begin
Her father’s rescue, earnestly beseeching,
If he has any hope her love to win,
To show a courage that’s beyond impeaching;
And to remember that the Rock is in
His hands, to save it from the foe besieging.
He needs no urging, for he’d rather die
Than fail the slightest in his lady’s eyes.
60
The loving Count these words no sooner hears,
Than he draws Durindana in his hate,
And starts a battle terrible and drear,
Which blow by blow for you I will relate –
But not right now. I wish to leave him here
And tell of Don Rinaldo’s valor great,
Who, as I’ve told, beneath an arbor’s shade
Had found a knight beside a fountain laid.
61
He wept as if his heart had burst asunder.
Even a dragon he’d have made to sigh.
He takes no notice of Rinald, for under
His folded arms are hid his welling eyes.
The prince is silent, and he’s filled with wonder
Pondering why this stranger knight so cries.
For though his sobs and catching breath he heard,
Yet could he not distinguish his soft words.
62
Rinaldo lighted off his good destrier
And with most courteous words the knight saluted,
Beseeching him to make his story clear,
What circumstance to such laments was suited.
The stranger lifts his face, and on the Peer
Awhile he stares, but still his voice is muted.
At last he speaks, “Sir knight, my fate is such
That death by any means seems fairer much.
63
“But by the living God and by my word,
I swear to thee, such is not why I weep;
My death I soon will find, yet unperturbed
Am I at that. I will it gladly greet;
But for one thing regret is in me stirred.
Were’t not for this, my death I’d gaily meet.
But one more valiant, with all virtues decked,
Will die with me, whom I cannot protect.”
64
Rinaldo answers, “For God’s sake I pray
That thou wilt tell me how this came to pass,
Since to discover it I came this way,
Seeing thee in such grief upon the grass.”
The knight bestirred himself from where he lay,
Sat up, and with a gentle countenance
Began to tell his tale, with many tears,
As in the coming canto you shall hear.
HERE ENDETH THE SIXTEENTH CANTO
The Orlando Innamorato in English, Book I, Canto XVI, Stanzas 21-40
21
The watchers, ev’ry time a knight is hit,
Thank their good stars they didn’t feel that one.
But the two barons feel of fear no whit.
They do not speak, when deeds are to be done.
At dawn they started, and by now is it
Six hours since the rising of the sun.
But neither one was ready for a stop;
Indeed, till now they’ve just been warming up.
22
As when, within the forge of Mongibello,
The demon Vulcan hammers out the thunder,
First heating up his fire with the bellows,
Then strikes so hard and fast it is a wonder,
Even so, sounding like a devil’s bellows
Their two swords strike without a miss or blunder,
And shoot out clouds of sparks amidst the clangor.
Yet neither one for any respite hankers.
23
The Count Orlando, like a mighty hitter
With Durindana strikes the Tartar’s crown
A two-hand blow so terrible and bitter
The echoes could be heard for miles around.
King Agricane’s wits away have flittered.
Upon Baiardo’s neck the king slumps down.
Only his saddle kept him still aloft.
The helmet, though, of Solomon, fell off.
24
Clever Baiard with him to safety races
Till soon the king recovers all his sense.
He turns to fight Orlando, and his face is
So fierce it could have made a dragon flinch.
Mighty Tranchera in the sunlight blazes.
With both his hands, he thinks ’twill be a cinch
To split Orlando open head to toe;
But just his helm is splintered by the blow.
25
Upon his horse’s back now sprawls the knight,
Who cannot move a muscle on his own.
So heavily can Agricane smite,
His head was knocked against his steed’s backbone.
He didn’t know if it was day or night,
And though the midday sun above him shone,
He thought above him were the starry skies,
Dancing and skipping ’round before his eyes.
26
But soon his wrath extreme begins to rise.
His eyes shoot sparks; he clutches Durindan.
But o’er the field there came a mighty noise.
Swift through the mountains is the echo gone.
Never have there been any louder cires:
An army infinite arrives anon,
With banners raised, and pennons fair-adorned,
Blowing their trumpets, sounding drums and horns.
27
This is the army of King Galafron,
In three divisions, each amazing vast.
He sought the keep, which rightly was his own,
In fury. He had raised this army fast
By envoys sent to ev’ry country known,
And half of India now with him passed.
Some came for hear of him, and some for gold,
For he had wealth and potency untold.
28
From the Gold Sea, the which is India’s bound,
Had come an army eager to attack.
The first brigade, which made a dreadful sound,
Was led by giant Archilor the Black.
The second marched beneath a woman crowned.
In all the Orient there was a lack
Of knights who could remove her from her saddle.
She was as beautiful as strong in battle.
29
Marfisa. Thus was spoken far and wide
The damsel’s name. She loved so much to fight
That for five years she had not laid aside
Her armor, whether by day or by night.
For she by solemn vows herself had tied,
By great Mahomet and by all his might
Not to take off her hauberk, plate, or mail,
Until three kings she’d caught in war’s travail.
30
And these three were the King of Sericane,
I mean Gradasso, who had such puissance,
And Agricane, lord of Tramontane,
And Charlemagne, the Emperor of France.
Our history will very soon explain
Her matchless power and her arrogance,
But at the moment I will say no more,
And turn back to the progress of the war.
31
With shouts and battle cries so loud and varied
They crossed the Drada (that’s a river wide)
That Heaven above, it seemed, would soon be harried.
The third troop still was on the farther side,
’Neath Gallifrone’s sway, who proudly carried
His royal banner, as one born to guide:
A black flag which a golden dragon bore.
Let us leave him, and speak of Archilor,
32
Who was a giant, rather oversized,
And worshipped nothing but himself alone.
Mahound he blasphemed and he God despised,
And spake of either with an angry tone.
This Archiloro above all things prized
The joy of making the first blow his own;
Just like a demon who is loosed from Hell,
He wreaks destruction on his foes pell-mell.
33
The great Black wields a hammer in his hand
(No anvil ever made could match its weight)
With every swing he slays a little band
Of Tartars, sent to their eternal fate.
The frank Uldano sallies to withstand
His fury, with good Polifern his mate.
With their batallions twain, the two set out,
A hundred thousand each, or thereabout.
34
Each is a valiant man and worthy knight.
These two kings do not make this charge together,
But one goes to the left, and one goes right,
Whether by chance, or else by fate, or whether
They planned it so, they at the same time smite
The Negro’s sides; they pierce nor steel nor leather,
And cannot even knock him from his horse;
They strike with opposite and equal force.
35
The black King sits unmoved ’twixt lance and lance.
The mighty blows don’t even leave him stunned.
He swings his hammer round with both his hands,
And Poliferno on the head he dunned,
And stretched him, almost lifeless, on the land,
And then, without a pause, around he spun
And struck the strong Uldano on the visor
And knocked him from the saddle, and he lies there.
36
These kings upon the field lie, half-awake,
And Archilor advances in his glory;
He sweeps ahead, just like a fire-drake,
Slicing helms, shields, and mail in combat gory.
No one can stop him, even make him shake.
He slays the men behind, and those before he
Drives in a panicked rout across the lea.
King Agricane sees his people flee.
37
And turning to Orlando with sweet speech,
He says, “Ah, Cavalier, for courtesy,
If thou hast ever loved a damsel sweet,
Or if thou lovest one of high degree,
Then by her lovely face, I thee beseech,
(As thou hast hope that she will too love thee)
To let us halt, and we may fight again,
When I have given succor to my men.
38
“And since no one who knows thee can believe
That thou art other than a valiant knight,
I give thee Moscow’s kingdom as thy fief,
Which stretches to the Russian Sea by right.
Its king is won in Hell, in smoke and grief;
Thou sent’st him thither yesterday with might;
King Radamanto ’twas, so tall to view,
Whom with thy sword thou didst divide in two.
39
“Freely I give to thee this king’s domain,
And I believe it is the best I rule,
For I trust all the world does not contain
A knight who could in anything thee school.
I promise thee, and I will swear amain
That we shall meet again in battle cruel
And that time, it will surely be made clear,
Which of us two is he without a peer.
40
“I truly thought that I was more than man
Until I matched myself with thy puissance;
I never thought to guard against a brand
Or feel discomforted by someone’s lance;
Though I‘d heard of Orlando, from a land
Somewhere far west of here (they call it France)
I was convinced his might I should despise
If we should meet; myself I did so prize.
The Orlando Innamorato in English, Book I, Canto XVI, Stanzas 1-20 Notes
12. Almonte’s former sword. Orlando won Durindana from the pagan Almonte, son of Agolante, in the battle of Aspremont.
The Orlando Innamorato in English, Book I, Canto XVI, Stanzas 1-20
CANTO XVI
ARGUMENT
Orlando and King Agricane duel
To th’admiration of the heathen crowd.
But they are parted when, to save his jewel
King Gallifron arrives, to vengeance vowed.
With him is Archiloro, tall and cruel
And allied with him is Marfisa proud,
Who does not deign as yet to join the fight.
Meanwhile, Rinaldo meets a woeful knight.
1
Ev’rything which beneath the Moon is found,
The riches and the kingdoms of the earth,
Are Fortune’s playthings, and she wheels them round
Without a thought, except to give her mirth.
She overthrows whatever seems most sound.
But, above all, in war there is no dearth
Of her caprices and her wayward freaks.
A parallel it would be vain to seek.
2
This may be seen in Agricane’s case,
Who was the emperor of Tartary,
And in the world had such a lofty place,
And ha many kings his slaves to be.
But when he tried to win a lovely face,
Dead and destroyed was half his company.
And seven kings who knelt at his command
Died in one day, at Count Orlando’s hand.
3
Desperate now, he rides across the field,
Blowing his horn and seeking for a fight,
Or else demanding Count Orlando yield,
With his companions, to that valiant knight.
Himself alone will fight, sword, lance, and shield,
Any who dare to here contest his might.
Now comes the drawbridge of Albracca down,
And the French count appears, armed tow to crown.
4
Beside him ride Oberto dal Leon,
And Brandimart, of chivalry the flower,
King Adriano and frank Chiarïon.
With these, Angelica may mock the power
Of Agrican, as she in beauty shone,
Leaning out of the window of her bower
So that the Count may see and be inspired.
The five ride down the slope, in arms attired.
5
King Agricane stands athwart the path,
Scorning to ride ahead to meet so few.
His face burns like a fire, such is his wrath,
Which ev’ry corner of his mind imbues.
He turns t’address the coward troops he hath,
Who lack for strength and chivalry, and who
Don’t even dare to look him in the face
As this invective spews he in that place.
6
“Now listen well, you churls with knocking knees.
Nobody move to give me any aid!
A thousand thousand could not make me flee,
Not even if their allies they had made
Samson, Achilles, Hector, Hercules.
I still would leave them mangled and filleted.
And once I have cut down these braggart five,
I will not leave a man of you alive.
7
“For every one of you, accurséd folk,
Before the evening star tonight I’ve viewed,
I’ll cut in tiny pieces, brain, or choke,
And leave the plain with all your corpses strewed,
Lest turning home, you should in wedlock’s yoke
Raise up in Tartary degenerate broods
Who should bring such dishonor to my sway
As ye did in the battle yesterday.”
8
The people trembled when his speech they heard,
Like poplar leaves amidst a hurricane.
Nor do they dare to answer him a word,
So much they feared their ruler’s wrath insane.
Alone King Agrican his charged spurred
And left behind him all his vast brigade.
He blew upon his horn with lusty breath,
Playing the song of flesh and blood and death.
9
Orlando, who had noticed as he fought
Agrican’s matchless bravery and might,
From Jesus Christ in humbleness besought
To bring him to the true religion’s light.
He signs himself, and then, as Christians ought,
Commends himself to God. He soon caught sight
O’ th’ Tartar coming with intention dire,
Baiardo left a trail of wind and fire.
10
If you have ever seen two thunderstorms,
From east and west turning the heavens drear,
Some hint of those two barons you may form;
They knock each other o’er their horses’ rears.
Their lances shatter, and the armor worn
By them makes such a rattle in men’s ears,
That upward turn the eyes of one and all,
Thinking the heavens are about to fall.
11
Every looker-on calls on his God,
Asking aid for the cause he thinketh just.
Great Brigliadoro lies upon the sod:
Orlando spurs him up, but only just.
But good Baiardo with such swiftness trod
You could not see him for the clouds of dust;
But then he halts, and paws, and turns around,
Leaping Orlando with a seven-foot bound.
12
The Count by now is ready to withstand
All of the force his foe can bring to bear;
Almonte’s former sword* is in his hand,
And Agricane has the sharp Trancher;
The two combatants face to face now stand,
Whose equals cannot be found anywhere;
As on that day to one and all was shown,
Rarely on earth hath such a pair been known.
13
Neither one seeks a rest, and neither grieves,
Nor to they halt from giving heavy blows;
But as the trees are stripped bare of their leaves
By the great blasts the mighty tempest blows,
E’en so the fighting of these barons leaves
Their armor tattered from their heads to toes;
Their shields are ruined and their surcoats tattered.
They had no crests left, at least none that mattered.
14
Orlando thinks that he will make this brief,
And end the battle with a single clout.
He brings his sword down on the helmet’s chief;
It bounces off, while sparks of fire shoot out.
King Agricane says through gritted teeth,
“Just wait a moment, and we’ll see how stout
Thy helmet is, and I believe we’ll find
It is not worthy to be named with mine.”
15
And when he’s spoken, with both hands he starts
To bring Tranchera down, and he is sure
He’ll cleave the Count Orlando in two parts,
And even his horse will be beyond a cure,
But damage none unto the helm imparts,
For by enchantment was the work procured.
Wizard Albrizach, the curséd one
Made it to give to Agolante’s son,
16
Who lost it, when Orlando by the fount
Slew him and saved the crown of Charlemagne,
As all men know. Now turn we to the Count,
Who has received he blow of might and main.
In sweat he broke out – ’twas no small amount,
And vengeance was the thought that filled his brain;
Ever and ever stronger grows his wrath.
He swings his sword with all the strength he hath.
17
The cruel sword glanced off the helmet’s marge,
And landed on the shoulder, splitting steel.
It slices off the third part of his targe,
And opens steel and leather to reveal
The white flesh, with his muscles bulging large.
Down to his waist it glances, and he feels
It lightly graze his flesh and pierce him there.
The armor’s torn away; his side is bare.
18
King Agricane felt such grievous pain,
He thought, “I must withdraw and rest a spell.
If of a poultice I were not so fain,
You would be dead before the twilight fell.
But all his prowess will be all in vain,
For I will shortly send him straight to Hell;
And mail and plate have never yet been wrought
That could protect the man whose life I sought.”
19
And with such thoughts, he lifts in his right hand
Tranchera, his inimitable blade;
Orlando’s shield could not the blow withstand,
But he was forced to drop it on the ground.
The sword glides down his flank, and all to-rends
His hauberk, with an awful grinding sound.
Pieces of metal scatter here and there,
But no skin’s broken, no blood anywhere.
20
They stand and watch, those four good cavaliers
Who with Orlando rode in company,
And marvel at the fight, the blows so fierce,
And each and ev’ry one swears certainly
That all the world has never seen the peers
Of those two knights for strength and chivalry.
The pagans likewise doth the fight astound,
“The two of them are equal, by Mahound!”
Pietro Aretino (1492-1556) was an Italian author most famous for his ribald verses and his exquisitely devastating satires. These latter won him such a great reputation that he was eventually able to live almost entirely off blackmailing the nobility of Italy, all of them fearful lest he turn his pen against them. He died laughing. He won a place in our pages by beginning no fewer than four Carolingian epics in ottava rima, all of which he abandoned after a few cantos.
Pietro Aretino must not be confused with Leonardo Aretino (1370-1444), mentioned in the beginning of Pulci’s Morgante Maggiore. That Aretino was a humanist and historian who was the first to introduce the concept of the “Middle Ages.”
Pietro’s abandoned epics are as follows:
Marfisa, Three cantos, 338 stanzas. First two cantos printed 1532, the third in 1535
Angelica, Two cantos, 181 stanzas. Printed 1536.
Orlandino, Two cantos, 56 stanzas. Written between 1536 and 1547,
Astolfeida, Three cantos, 121 stanzas. Written after 1547.
Rodamonte, A pirated and abridged version of Marfisa, comprising two cantos and 79 stanzas, a few of which are not attested elsewhere. Printed 1532.
There are, of course, no English translations of any of these.
ORLANDINO
Canto I
The author roundly abuses Turpin for his lying chronicle from which Pulci, Boiardo, Ariosto, and Pietro Aretino drew their heroic stories. He presents the truth: all the paladins and the great Saracen knights were mere drunkards, gluttons, and libertines, who spent as little time as possible fighting and as much time as possible wenching, wining and dining. Their fine ladies were all on a level with the most amorous of the enchantresses whose gardens the paladins kept destroying. The poet dismisses the pagan gods as similarly worthless, and invokes as his muse one Vincenzo Gambarino.
Charlemagne holds court at Pentecost, at which the Paladins overindulge in food and wine, while boasting about how they will skewer their enemies like they skewer their meat and will eat up their lady loves like they do their food. Oliver carelessly flings a shoulder of mutton, which hits Ganelon. The Maganzan is silent but swears revenge, which will ultimately lead him to betray the Paladins at Roncesvalles.
Charles brings out a giornea (a type of tabard) which is embroidered with pornographic scenes, and is about to begin a contest to see who shall have it, when the feast is interrupted by the arrival of a Spanish Almansour named Cardo, lord of Sabomia, who challenges the Paladins. Charlemagne bids Orlando fight him. The Count declines. Charles calls on Astolfo, who accepts with boasts, then prudently decides to make his confession and his will first. Turpin helps him with both. Upon still further reflection, Astolfo starts to slink away. Charles now calls upon Rinaldo, who would be glad to fight if someone would lend him armor: his own is in hock. Charles is reduced to shouting at Astolfo to shame him into returning to battle, which at length he does. The English prince swears that he will go on pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, Loreto, and Compostella if he escapes, but Cardo knocks him off his horse.
Canto II
Astolfo kneels before the Saracen and asks for mercy. Cardo laughs…
Pietro Aretino wrote no more of the Orlandino.
COMMENTS
This work, despite its name, has no relation to the narratives of Orlando/Roland’s childhood which often go by the title of Orlandino, or “Young/Little Roland.” Later editions bore the title “Le Valorose Prove delle Arcibravi Paladini” (“The Valorous Deeds of the Very Brave Paladins”) or variants thereof.
The Orlando Innamorato in English Translation, Book I, Canto XV, Stanzas 41-60 Notes
47. Mart. Mars, the Roman god of war.
48. Merlon. The solid portion of a crenelated battlement, between the slits or crenelations.
The Orlando Innamorato in English translation, Book I, Canto XV, Part 3, Stanzas 41-60
41
The great battalion now is close at hand;
The fierce Udone leads, with Agrican.
The might army covers all the land,
The plain below the mountainside they’re on.
What can Orlando do, who seems trepanned,
Alone with just a girl and Durindan?
He trembles for his anger and for fear
Not for himself, but for his lady dear.
42
For sweet Angelica is all his fear,
For his own skin he had no care at all.
Though on one side of him his foes appear,
King Trufaldino drives him from the wall.
The fight grows ev’ry minute still more fierce.
Though none date come too close, yet they let fall
A shower of arrows, darts, and javelins,
The sunlight as in an eclipse they dim.
43
Adrian, Aquilant, and Chiarïon,
Against King Agrican defend them well.
And Brandimarte, who’s for valor known,
Wreaks on his enemies a vengeance fell.
The frank Oberto and the brave Grifon
Do deeds more valorous than I could tell.
Beneath the keep the Paladin is seen
With humbleness beseeching Trufaldin
44
To have some pity on the damosel,
Who has been caught in such a deadly strife.
But by compassion, that damned imp of Hell
Has never once been swayed in all his life.
For none beneath the Moon were e’er so fell
Or with deceit and falsehood were more rife.
The Count keeps pleading, all the while his ire
Is slowly growing, till his eyes flash fire.
45
Beneath the castle walls he’s hard bestead,
And with his shield defends the lady royal.
And towards Trufaldin he turns his head.
His face contorts; his blood begins to boil.
Orlando isn’t used to making threats,
But in extremity, this baron loyal
Such mighty malediction ’gins to make
As cause the very sky above to quake.
46
His teeth he gnashes. “Traitor!” loud he calls,
“Think not thy walls security afford,
For I shall cut a way in through the walls
In just four hours with my mighty sword.
And by myself I’ll take thy keep and halls,
And throw thee down into the Tartar’s horde,
And then I’ll kill the army, ev’ry one,
And thou amidst the rest will be undone.”
47
Orlando shouts so loud, that for his part,
He does not seem to be a mortal man.
King Trufaldino has a timid heart,
As traitors always do in ev’ry land;
He saw Orlando fight as well as Mart.
He saw him ’gainst the Tartar army stand.
Seven kings he saw the Count lay low,
Beheaded, amputated by his blows.
48
The wicked rascal seems to see already
Albracca keep destroyed by sword and fire
And he himself exposed to vengeance heady
Of Agricane and his righteous ire,
Because he sees Orlando’s purpose steady,
His face contorted and his visage dire.
He sits upon a merlon, says, “My lord,
Please, till thou’st heard my tale, hold back thy sword.
49
“I won’t deny, indeed I can’t deny,
That to Angelica I have done wrong,
But God and Heaven be my witness, I
Was forced to hand her over to the throng
By my companions and their treachery.
But I have vengéd her, and within strong
Chains and doors I have them pris’ners made,
Thus were the traitors false by me betrayed.
50
“And thus, thou seest, I am in peril twice,
By them I surely will not be forgiven,
And Agrican will slay me in a trice,
For having ’gainst his army boldly striven.
So I’ll be brief; unless to guard my life
Thou swearest, and thy knightly word is given
To safeguard me against my foemen’s hate,
I will not, dare not, open up the gate.
51
“And that shall go for ev’ry other knight,,
Who seeketh entry to the keep with thee;
He first must swear to me that he will fight
In my defense, if e’er I challenged be
By any person, be it day or night,
For any cause, unhesitatingly;
Then all must swear together in a ring
That they’ll protect me against ev’rything.”
52
The Count Orlando will not swear this oath,
But threatens him again with angry face.
But the fair lady in his arms is loath
To lose this chance, and humbly thus she prays.
His noble heart is conquered, and he both
Swears for himself and bids his fellows haste
To swear allegiance to the dwarf likewise.
So highly doth this knight his lady prize.
53
All take the oath without a further thought,
Thus pledged to Trufaldin beyond recall.
And then he grants the refuge they have sought,
And safely all of them come in the wall.
The folk are nearly to starvation brought.
Save one old horse, there is no food at all.
Orlando could have eaten up a bull.
He gets a quarter, but is far from full.
54
The other knights devour ev’rything.
Tomorrow they’ll be in a wretched spot.
King Adrian and Brandimarte sing;
Obert and Chiarïon begin to plot,
With Count Orlando, how ’tis best to bring
Victuals and drink before their strength is shot.
Grifon and Aquilante they have made
To guard the fort while they go on their raid.
55
Because none of the knights had any trust
In the misshapen, shifty Trufaldin.
And so the guard is set, lest he should thrust
The door shut when they come from battle keen.
The peaceful dawn was up, but only just.
Only the brightest stars could still be seen.
The sun had not yet rose to bring the morn,
When armor-clad Orlando blew his horn.
56
The folk upon the plain no longer rest.
They hear the horn which summons them to die.
The felon race are horribly distressed.
Their faces pale as death, their mouths are dry.
Thy cry and weep and beat their face and breast.
Some run away, and some concealment try,
For all had seen, and wished to see no more,
Orlando’s cruel fury in the war.
57
And so the greater portion of the horde
Through field and ditch attempt away to get,
But Agricane and his noble lords
Rally their troops with menaces and threats.
No louder sound doth history record
Than that they made as on their arms they set.
Stern Agricane cannot find his mace,
And so his naked sword must take its place.
58
And when a man without his arms he found,
Or who was letting himself fall behind,
At once he laid him lifeless on the ground.
He surveys all, and in his lofty mind
Contemplates his vast army all around,
Which from the mountain to the river winds.
The plain was measured about four leagues square,
You could not find a free space anywhere.
59
Mighty King Agricane is amazed
To think this army, far too large to count,
Is of one cavalier so sore afraid;
His men so tremble they can scarcely mount.
While he himself, upon Baiard upraised,
Of confidence possessed a great amount,
For Count Orlando and the knights he had
Scare him no more than would a single lad.
60
He now rides out ahead of all his host
To meet the men who issue from the keep;
Defying all of them, with mighty boasts,
And sounding his own horn with bellows deep.
In my next canto, I’ll tell how the foes
In single combat made the blood outseep.
A battle such as you have never heard of,
And then Rinaldo I will give some word of.
The Orlando Innamorato in English translation, Book I, Canto XV, Stanzas 21-40
21
He vivisects his foemen by the score.
Now Radamanto comes before the rest.
(He was so tall, he could be seen before
His men). Orlando cleaves him at the waist.
His trunk falls southward and his legs fall north.
No backwards glance on him Orlando wastes,
But strikes the helmet of King Saritron
And splits him open to his caudal bone.
22
The Paladin takes not the least repose,
But strikes to right and left with Durindan.
He marks not what the rank is of his foes.
Kings flee before him like the humblest pawn.
Brontino foolishly against him goes,
Who ruled o’er Norway. Soon his life is gone.
His shield is ruined, and his plate and mail.
Hauberk and helmet are of no avail.
23
King Pandragone,ruler of the Goths
Attacks Orlando, battle-crazéd knight,
While his companion (they’d pledged friendship’s troth)
The great Argante, gallops at his right.
Orlando charges at them with a scoff,
Reckless of Pandragon’s gigantic height.
King Pandragon will lead no more his soldiers;
A heavy weight is lifted from his shoulders.
24
For Durindana cuts into his neck,
And easily flies out the other side.
Argante is so close, you could not reck
The space between them at a half-foot wide.
And so it follows, as you might expect,
That Durindan into his midriff glides –
For King Argante so much height embraced,
That Pandragone only reached his waist.
25
The mighty giant turns his horse about
And tries to hide himself within the crowd,
His guts upon his saddle horn spill out.
But Count Orlando, with great strength endowed,
His wonted mercy now he does without.
No one nearby to ’scape him he allowed.
“Mercy!” and “Pity!” fall on senseless ears.
He is so wrathful that he nothing hears.
26
The world has never held a thing more terrible
Than was the desperate and frenzied count.
Armor to block his sword would be unwearable.
The corpses which he leaves could build a mount.
Even the bravest man finds it unbearable
To look upon his face, of wrath the fount.
His flushed face seems to be on fire the,
All flee before him, crying “Ware! Beware!”
27
Meanwhile, Agrican and Aquilante
Are fighting, while Orlando brings this grief.
Captive Angelica beholds them fighting, and they
Strike blows which make her tremble like a leaf.
Behold arriving him who rules Anglante;
If Durindana ever paused, ’twas brief.
Now a man’s cut in half, and now a horse.
He slaughters footmen; cavaliers he gores.
28
The fighting Tartar monarch he espies,
And Aquilante’s lot looks very bad.
He hears Angelica’s despairing cries,
I hope I never meet a man so mad.
He stands up in the stirrups and he hies
To strike with all the Hellish strength he had.
His Durindana swift as lightning sped,
And hit King Agricane on the head.
29
So fierce and firm that blow was when it landed,
No other ever had one-half its force.
And if his helmet hadn’t been enchanted,
It would have split the Tartar and his horse.
King Agricane’s wits have him abandoned
His steed where’er it will pursues its course.
Hither and thither half a league it roams,
Till Agricane’s senses come back home.
30
Orlando, following him off has flown,
With Brigliadoro, at a fever heat.
And now Kings Santaría and Lurcon
Arrive to carry off the lady sweet.
The four defend her with their skills well-honed,
But at the best, can but postpone defeat.
So many, many soldiers ‘gainst them stand,
The lady can’t but fall into their hands.
31
King Santaría quickly grabs the dame,
And swings her to the saddle, him before.
The King Lurcone right beside him came,
Uldano, Polifermo, help them war.
Who is the man who could his tears restrain
To see the misery the lady bore?
She weepeth as she o’er the steeds neck sprawls,
For Count Orlando’s help she ever calls.
32
Oberto, Aquilant, and Chiarïon,
Meanwhile fight against battalions vast.
Their prowess by their mighty deeds is shown.
Few men have e’er these mighty three surpassed,
But they are three, and they are all alone,
And foot by foot they’re beaten back at last.
Now Agricane has regained his wits.
His sword Tranchera in his hand he grips.
33
Ruthlessly towards the Count he rides,
To pay him back the blow he had received,
But Count Orlando, when he heard the cry
Of fair Angelica, be it believed
He did not tarry, but he seems to fly.
He’d rather lose the world than have her grieved.
He gnashed his teeth so fiercely that, in fact,
It sounded louder than a cataract.
34
The King Lurcone was the first he found,
Who charged ahead of his redoubted band.
The Count him strikes so hard upon his crown
That Durindana nearly left his hands.
Dead from the saddle fell Lurcone down.
The blow so merciless was and so grand,
His helm in pieces scattered o’er the plain,
Covered in drops of blood and bits of brain.
35
A most strange thing in Turpin’s book I’ve read.
Even when finished was the battle’s crush,
No one could ever find the monarch’s head.
For Durindana turned it into mush.
When Santaría saw this feat, then dread
O’erwhelmed him. Quick away his courage rushed.
His sword with needful skill he could not wield,
And so he used the lady as a shield.
36
He knew he didn’t have the strength to fight.
He knew he didn’t have the speed to fly.
And yet he fills Orlando’s heart with fright,
Lest striking him, he make his lady die.
She shrieks and calls for aid with all her might,
“If thou dost love me, baron, strike! Come! Hie!
Slay me, I beg thee, with thine own two hands.
Don’t let this dog escape with me in bands!”
37
Orlando at this point is so confused,
He has no notion how he ought to fare.
He sheathes the sword in war he’s always used,
And gallops straight to Santaría there.
No weapons but his fists in iron closed
Will he employ to save the lady fair.
King Santaría, since he has no weapon,
Thinks he’s the luckiest man under Heaven.
38
He holds Angelica upon his left,
And wields his massive broadsword on his right.
A mighty blow he strikes, he is so deft,
But his thick sword is into shivers dight,
Leaving Orlando of no blood bereft,
Who does not hesitate or fear to fight,
But punched his helmet with a blow which spread
The King upon the earth, stone-cold and dead.
39
His brains are oozing out his mouth and nose,
And crimson blood distaineth all his face.
Now once again the scuffle fearsome grows,
Because Orlando now the dame conveys
And swiftly on his Brigliadoro goes
With so much speed he could win any race.
Angelica in safety thus he carried,
Nor till he reached the castle gates did tarry.
40
But Trufaldino, in the tower pent,
Will not let anybody ope the door.
To all the knights he sputters dreadful threats,
To wreak them shameful death with plenteous gore.
With rocks and darts Angelica is met.
For grief and fear, she wished her life were o’er.
She turns as pale as chalk, she’s so dismayed,
To see that she has been, alas! betrayed.
Orlando Innamorato in English 