On less occasion, when it profits nought.
Next that magician Montalbano's lord
To mark how sorely do had erred, besought:
Since little lacked, but through the boon denied,
Erewhile he had in gloomy dungeon died.

XXXIII
But how much more Rinaldo's strange demand
Sounded importunately in his ear,
So by sure index Malagigi scanned,
That so much was Angelica more dear.
Rinaldo prayer unable to withstand,
In ocean sunk the wizard cavalier
All memory of old injury assaid,
And bowned himself to give the warrior aid.

XXXIV
For his reply he craved some small delay,
And with fair hope consoled Mount Alban's knight,
He should be able of the road to say
By which Angelica had sped her flight,
In France or wheresoe'er; then wends his way
Thither where he is wont his imps to cite;
A grot impervious and with mountains walled:
His book he opened and the spirits called.

XXXV
Then one he chooses, in love-cases read,
Whom Malagigi to declare requires,
How good Rinaldo's heart, before so died,
Was now so quickly moved by soft desires;
And of those fountains twain (the demon said)
Whereof one lights, one quenches amorous fires;
And how nought cures the mischief caused by one
But that whose streams in counter current run;

XXXVI
And says, Rinaldo, having drunk whilere
From the love-chasing fountain's mossy urn,
To Angelica, that long had wooed the peer,
Had shown himself so obstinate and stern;
And he, whom after his ill star did steer
To drink of that which makes the bosom burn,
Her whom but just before he loathed above
All reason, by that draught was forced to love.

XXXVII
Him his ill star and cruel fate conveyed
To swallow fire and flame i' the frozen lake:
For nigh at the same time the Indian maid
In the other bitter stream her thirst did slake;
Which in her bosom so all love allayed,
Henceforth she loathed him more than noisome snake;
He loved her, and such love was his, as late
Rinaldo bore her enmity and hate.

XXXVIII
Of this strange story fully certified
Was Malagigi by the demon's lore;
Who news as well of Angelique supplied;
How yielding up herself to a young Moor,
With him embarking on the unstable tide,
She had abandoned Europe's every shore;
And hoisting her bold canvas to the wind,
In Catalonian galley loosed for Ind.

XXXIX
Rinaldo seeking out the sage anew
For his reply -