had drained.

XIX
The County has him taken, bleeding sore;
Thither, where he is saved with sovereign care;
And he as if a kinsman of the Moor,
Benignly comforts him and speaks him fair:
For in Orlando, when the strife was o'er,
Was nothing evil; ever prompt to spare.
He from the dead their arms and coursers reft,
The rest he to their knives' disposal left.

XX
Here as my story stood not on good ground,
Frederick Fulgoso doubtful does appear;
Who, searching Barbary's every shore and sound
Erewhile on board a squadron, landed here;
And the isle so rugged and so rocky found,
In all its parts so mountainous and drear,
There is not (through the land) a level space
(He says) whereon a single boot to place.

XXI
Nor deems he likely, that six cavaliers,
The wide world's flower, on Alpine rock should vye,
In that equestrian fight, with levelled spears.
To whose objection thus I make reply:
Erewhile a place, well fit for such careers,
Stretched at the bottom of the hills did lie;
But afterwards, o'erthrown by earthquake's shock,
A cliff o'erspread the plain with broken rock.

XXII
So, of Fulgoso's race thou shining ray,
Clear, lasting light, if, questioning my word,
Thou on this point hast ever said me nay,
And haply too, before the unconquered lord,
Through whom thy land, reposing, casts away
All haste, and wholly leans to kind accord,
Prythee delay not to declare, that I
In this my story haply tell no lie.

XXIII
Meanwhile his eyes the good Orlando reared,
And saw, on turning them to seaward, where
Under full sail a nimble bark appeared,
As if she to that island would repair.
I will not now rehearse who thither steered;
For more than one awaiteth me elsewhere.
Wend me to France and see if they be glad
At having chased the Saracens, or sad;

XXIV
See what she does withal, the lady true,
That sees her knight content to wend so wide;
Of the afflicted Bradamant I shew;
After she saw the oath was nullified,
Made in the hearing of those armies two,
Upon the Christian and the paynim side;
Since he again had failed her, there was nought
Wherein she could confide, the damsel thought.

XXV
And now her too accustomed plaint and wail
Repeating, of Rogero's cruelty
Fair Bradamant renewed the wonted tale;
She cursed her hard and evil destiny;
Then loosening to tempestuous grief the sail,
Hea