There is something wonderfully soft and _lunar_ in the liquid monotony of the third line.]
"La qual dormiva in atto tanto adorno, Che pensar non si può, non ch'io lo scriva Parea che l'erba a lei fiorisse intorno, E d'amor ragionasse quella riva."
Her posture, as she lay, was exquisite Above all words--nay, thought itself above: The grass seemed flowering round her in delight, And the soft river murmuring of love.]
[Footnote 9: Supremely elegant all this appears to me.]
[Footnote 10: Sometimes called in the romances _Frusberta_ (query, from _fourbir_, to burnish; or, _froisser_, to crush?). The meaning does not seem to be known. I ought to have observed, in the notes to Pulci, that the name of Orlando's sword, _Durlindana_ (called also _Durindana, Durandal_, &c.), is understood to mean _Hardhitter_.]
[Footnote 11: The force of aversion was surely never better imagined than in this scene of the opened arms of beauty, and the knight's preference of the most odious death.]
[Footnote 12: Legalised, I presume, by a divorce from the hero's wife, the fair Alda; who, though she is generally designated by that epithet, seems never to have had much of his attention.]
[Footnote 13: This violent effect of weapons so extremely gentle is beautifully conceived.]
[Footnote 14: The "female eye, lovely and gracious," is charmingly painted _per se_, but of this otherwise thoroughly beautiful description I must venture to doubt, whether _living_ eyes of any sort, instead of those in the peacock's feathers, are in good taste. The imagination revolts from life misplaced.]
Agrican king of Tartary, in love with Angelica, and baffled by the prowess of the unknown Orlando in his attempts to bring the siege of Albracca to a favourable conclusion, entices him apart from the battle into a wood, in the hope of killing him in single combat. The combat is suspended by the arrival of night-time; and a conversation ensues between the warriors, which is furiously interrupted by Agrican's discovery of his rival, and the latter's refusal to renounce his love. Agrican is slain; and in his dying moments requests baptism at the hand of his conqueror, who, with great tenderness, bestows it.
The siege of Albracca was going on formidably under the command of Agrican, and the city of Galafron was threatened with the loss of the monarch's daughter, Angelica, when Orlando, at his earnest prayer, came to assist him, and changing at once the whole course of the war, threw the enemy in his turn into transports of anxiety. Wherever the great Paladin came, pennon and standard fell before him. Men were cut up and cloven down, at every stroke of his sword; and whereas the Indians had been in full rout but a moment before, and the Tartars ever on their flanks, Galafron himself being the swiftest among the spurrers away, it was now the Tartars that fled for their lives; for Orlando was there, and a band of fresh knights were about him, and Agrican in vain attempted to rally his troops. The Paladin kept him constantly in his front, forcing him to attend to nobody else. The Tartar king, who cared not a button for Galafron and all his army,[1] provided he could but rid himself of this terrible knight (whom he guessed at, but did not know), bethought him of a stratagem. He turned his horse, and made a show of flying in despair. Orlando dashed after him, as he desired; and Agrican fled till he reached a green place in a wood, with a fountain in it.