rives where, conqueror o'er his foes
Orlando was, but in no joyful mood.
He, that the Child a Christian made whilere,
Christens Sobrino, and heals Olivier.

I
O Execrable avarice! O vile thirst
Of sordid gold! it doth not me astound
So easily thou seizest soul, immersed
In baseness, or with other taint unsound;
But that thy chain should bind, amid the worst,
And that thy talon should strike down and wound
One that for loftiness of mind would be
Worthy all praise, if he avoided thee.

II
Some earth and sea and heaven above us square,
Know Nature's causes, works, and properties;
What her beginnings, what her endings are;
And soar till Heaven is open to their eyes:
Yet have no steadier aim, no better care,
Stung by thy venom, than, in sordid wise,
To gather treasure: such their single scope,
Their every comfort, and their every hope.

III
Armies by him are broken in his pride,
And gates of warlike towns in triumph past:
The foremost he to breast the furious tide
Of fearful battle; to retire the last;
Yet cannot save himself from being stied
Till death, in thy dark dungeon prisoned fast.
Of others that would shine thou dimm'st the praise;
Whom other studies, other arts would raise.

IV
What shall of high and beauteous dames be said?
Who (from their lovers' worth and charms secure)
Against long service, I behold, more staid,
More motionless, than marble shafts, endure:
Then Avarice comes, who so her spells hath laid,
I see them stoop directly to her lure.
-- Who could believe? -- unloving, in a day
They fall some elder's, fall some monster's prey.

V
Not without reason here I raise this cry:
-- Read me who can, I read myself -- nor so
I from the beaten pathway tread awry,
Nor thus the matter of my song forego.
Not more to what is shown do I apply
My saying, than to what I have to show.
But now return we to the paladine,
Who was about to taste the enchanted wine.

VI
Fain would he think awhile, of whom I speak,
(As said) ere to his lips the vase he bore;
He thought; then thus: "When finding what we seek
Displeases, this 'tis folly to explore,
My wife's a woman; every woman's weak.
Then let me hold the faith I held before.
Faith still has brought, and yet contentment brings.
From proof itself what better profit springs?

VII
"From this small good, much evil I foresee:
For tem