Orlando in Love, Episode 23: A Friendship Broken The fair princess Angelica, most beautiful in all the world, is now in peril, under siege, within her fortress at Albraka. The siege is now commanded by Marfisa, saracen warrior queen. Angelica has several knights who've sworn to serve as her defense. Orlando is the best of them, a Paladin of Charlemagne. He is opposed, though, by his peer, the Paladin who's named Rinaldo. Rinaldo is the only man in all the world who hates Angelica. A magic spring, by accident, had made him hate she whom all men loved. What's more, one of her allies is the treacherous King Truf-al-dino, whom Rinaldo's sworn an oath to kill. Through complicated twists and turns that I won't re-tell all of now, Orlando got Rinaldo's horse, (L) That famous charger's named Baiardo, and is the best steed in the world. (Rinaldo'd found another horse, (R) a coal-black steed named Rabicano.) There's just one problem with Baiard, (L) he will not charge against Rinaldo! That wise horse knows his rightful owner, and will not move against that knight. Rinaldo, seeing that Orlando could not stop him while on that horse, was free to chase down Truf-al-dino. Rinaldo took that traitor captive, and tied him to his horse's tail, dragging him all across the field, until that evil king had died. While he was chasing down that villain, Orlando and Marfisa fought, because the Count could guide Baiardo easily in Rinaldo's absence. Both jousted steadily, and no preeminence was evident, but still Orlando moved with caution: he did not trust his steed at all. Therefore, he battled carefully, slowly, employing every art to spare himself, and, when still strong, he called for rest and drew aside. As Orlando looked around the field he noticed, there, a long-lost friend: The man to whom he'd loaned _his_ horse. He rode to meet him instantly. Each one recounts his misadventures, and they decided, finally, that Orlando's friend, whose arms were wrecked, would go back to the citadel and lead Baiardo to protection. Valiant Orlando wants no more~rest and at once mounts his own horse. The Count Orlando's pause is over, and now he gallops with great ruin, challenging the strong queen with proud words and threats to a duel of death. They spurred their chargers tow'rd each other, determined to be killed or conquer: Their second clash, with naked blades, is such a cruel and fearful brawl, it seems that earth _and heaven_ fall. Their battle was unusually~bitter, so fierce that it would be incredible to _try_ to tell how the queen *hacks* Orlando's arms. Orlando grows more furious, but he can't cut her plate and mail, Yet he takes swings of so much strength, Marfisa cannot help but bend. Each hour that assault grows worse. Their gruesome swings are measureless. Look now, Rinaldo rode close by, with _half_ of Truf-al-dino's corpse. The other half, down to his waist -- his arms and head and chest -- remained~on thorns on the stony plain. Rinaldo rode past rapidly, yelling so he was clearly heard: "Cavaliers! Where is your concern? (R) Does _nobody_ defend this king, whose /honesty/ resembles _yours?_" Orlando heard the high-flown words accusing him of villainy, and so he told Marfisa, "Knight" (He did not know Marfisa's name), (L) "I have engaged *him* in a fight, and want to _finish_ with my task. When I have killed him, then, God willing, I will come back and duel with you." Marfisa answered, "You're deceived~if you believe you'll kill him quickly. (R) I, who have fought you both, don't see~that he's worth any less than you. If you think that man's life comes cheap, you 'add the bill without the host'; if you can even *equal* him~by evening, you'll have earned your boast. "Go on now, I will wait (R) and see~which one of you two has more strength, though, if your /friends/ arrive to help, as they so often seem to do, I'll chase you to the citadel -- that is, if you can get _that_ far. But if you fight and do what's right, I promise I will stand apart." I don't know if Orlando heard, since he already chased Rinaldo, screaming out as he followed him: "Your threats are wasted if you run. (L) Whoever wants to frighten men should show his face, not back, to them. *Now* you are very bold -- you think~your horse is fast and can't be caught!" When he heard what Orlando yelled, Rinaldo turned around, enraged, and said, "I want no fight with _you_, (R) and yet you want to fight with me. I'm telling you that _when I'm right_ my honor _won't_ avoid a duel, But let God witness, as He's true, I'd be distressed to battle you." "Well, I am sure," said Count Orlando, (L) " you'd be distressed to fight with me, because I'm not a merchant or~a foreigner that you can *rob*. "Now let's not go on wasting words: Show me whatever valor's yours. I tell you, and it is no lie, that you will either *win* or *die*." Rinaldo answered, "I won't fight! (R) You are my _cousin_; I won't duel. I'm sorry if you've been offended -- but I've done /nothing wrong/, I swear! And if you feel discredited because of Truf-al-dino's death, I'll say to anyone you want, you did not come to his defense." "Coward!" Orlando answered him. (L) "You give away your origins; the rumors about you are true! You're not the son of noble Aymon, but of that traitor Ganelon!" "Such is /your brand/ of manliness, (L) such is the size of your conceit! Now that you see you have to fight, you cry for pardon and reprieve!" Hearing these words, Rinaldo lost~whatever patience he had left. He said to him: "You are so bold,~all men _must_ fear and honor you! (R) But give me back Baiardo, or~you'll see that you don't frighten me! You are not worth one single fig! "How you came by him, I don't care: (R) /Give me my horse,/ and settle this. You did not have the _heart_ to hold him; you were /afraid/ and sent him off. But if he were shut in by walls~of solid steel, I'd *still* reach him. Hear what I'm saying, loud and clear: I'll _have_ him. I'll use *any* means!" "We'll see the proof of that right now," (L) the Count said, with a little smile, But then his face no longer laughed: he pressed his lips tight, his eyes flamed. Who'll offer me the voice, the words, and solemn, deep delivery? Beneath the sun, the wide-spread world had never seen a fiercer thing. The other duels were nothing more than roses, violets -- but this~confounds my skill: the pride and praise~of earth encounter face to face. Both cavaliers were so enraged they terrified whoever watched, And those who stood not far away swore that their faces burned with flames. They gave each other awful looks, shouting harsh words and challenges. And though they're slow to join the fight, this merely meant each man was bold. They stalled, they spoke, to demonstrate that neither sought the first assault. But then the Count drew Durindana, shouting out loudly, "Now we'll see if there is someone found on earth (L) who's equal to your sovereign strength." The situation's smooth no longer: Rinaldo's hit, he has to move. He grips Fusberta with both hands and charges in on Rabican. He took a fierce and fearful swing like one who has enormous strength. Orlando's crest (The God of Love), wings broken, fell down to the plain. His magic helmet saved his life, because Rinaldo hit so hard he would have made him eat his brains. Hot-tempered, proud Orlando did~not care a bean about that blow. He seemed a rock set in the sea, that does not totter in a breeze. Now, with great force, _he_ struck /Rinaldo's/ helmet (which was magic, too), but Rinaldo, powerful and fierce, moved not a bit when he was hit. Rinaldo now responded fast, striking between Orlando's sword~and shield; plates fail, and fine mail links: Fusberta slices cleanly through, dragging the jerkin to the earth, leaving Orlando's flesh exposed. This stoked the Count's rage, and he smote~Rinaldo with a vicious blow. He struck him on his left, crosswise, and knocked most of his shield to earth. The ruinous, cruel swordblade sliced~his hauberk and his stomach plate, his jacket and his undervest, leaving *his* naked side exposed. Enraged, those bilious knights *explode*: Crueler and crueler their fight grows. Rinaldo's animosity was greater than he'd ever shown, and he swung backhand, double-gripped, a blow that would have cracked and wrecked~the Count's helm, had it not been charmed. That fearful stroke so stunned Orlando, he had no notion where he sat. His war-horse galloped, carrying~Orlando, knocked cold, in the saddle. Rinaldo said, (R) "I know that *this* won't be a fight that lasts three days!" To kill the Count -- the final insult -- he hammers him another time. I can't explain the reason why, but _this_ was when the Count revived. When his eyes opened to Rinaldo, hovering, ready for the kill, he yelled in anger, "Peasant slave, misfortune brought you here to me: (L) You will be slaughtered if you stay, dishonored if you run away! If you are obstinate, you'll bear~the brunt -- for you will not be spared!" Orlando spoke, and with both hands grips durable Durindan, enraged, and hits Rinaldo's helm, which sparks~with fearful radiance and flame. After that overwhelming dint, Rinaldo falls on his horse's neck, and Rabican bears him away. But there was never any serpent, or _dragon_, more replete with venom than was Rinaldo when he woke. His heart, his face were full of flames. Wickedly turning to Orlando, he gripped his blade and dropped his reins. In the same way, Orlando now attacked, with both hands on his sword. They hit each other with a crash, both furious, both desperate, and _still_ the fighting gathers force. Pieces of armor fall to earth. The winner can't be known because~their situation fluctuates: Now they are seen to swing, souls chafed, now stretched out on their steeds, half slain. They hit with a malignity suitable to a cruel revenge and sting each other with sharp taunts. Rinaldo called out to the Count, "Today you face the Sword of Justice! (R) Acknowledge all of your transgressions. Do the right thing: make your confession! "You slander me, you're arrogant. (R) Do you think I'll put up with that? I'll offer -- any place -- the proof that I don't merely equal you, but I, by far, am found your better. "Tell me, you _bastard_, what's your boast? (R) That at a spring you killed Almont while King Charles held him, bound, for you? You carry Durindan and strut~as if that sword were yours _by right_. "Your mother's nothing but a slut, (R) who cared no more for honor, but turned brazen after her first fault! "Perhaps you boast of King Troiano? (R) What a disgraceful episode! Mortally wounded -- and with but one hand -- he still unsaddled you before you killed him on the field. "Cowering wench! Hide yourself! Leave! (R) How can you show yourself to men when you've performed such villainy?" Orlando answered him, "There is~no need to settle who is better. (L) You are a *thief*, I am a _knight_, and all the world can judge it right. "I have good reason to be proud (L) I killed Almonte and Troiano, since they fought well and were well-born. You should not dare to *look* on them. "Roger was with me, and that Don~Chiaro, crown of every peer -- (L) men who have never been with you, since neither was a /highwayman/. "Now _you_ boast, and you hold it dear, (L) that you killed mighty King Mambrino, but none can say /how/ that was done, because you ran away at once. "That duel was hidden by a mountain -- (L) there were no witnesses to it. Who'll swear to what occurred that day? Perhaps your cousin, Malagi, the sorcerer, conjured imps for you, and won that fight through sorcery. "And I have heard that Constantin, (L) Mambrino's brother, who you killed, died of a knife wound in the _back._" So each of them with heavy barbs outraged the other cavalier. Soon they need something more than words. Fearsome swings follow from their talk as anger and humiliation prompt them to more outlandish deeds. They hit with such excessive ire, at every stroke their swords throw fire. Orlando swung both hands with anger, hammering at Rinaldo hard, and almost knocked him to the plain, out of his saddle, in a daze. But when Rinaldo had revived, no sparks or flashes ever burned that would not seem devoid of light compared to him, whose face was bright. He hit Orlando with such force, such fury, on his helmet, that~the peer, who had great vigor, lost~his senses and all consciousness. From the pain and acute distress, he fell back on his horse's rear, and everyone thought he'd fall to earth. No wounded lion ever raged, no poison dragon ever flamed, as did Orlando when he woke. He showed his fury in his face, for he had been less /dazed/ than made~fierce and more daring from that stroke. He cruelly hacked Rinaldo's shield and slashed more than a third away. The shield, chopped through, fell on the field, and the sharp blade went on to rip~the chain-mail from Rinaldo's ribs and carve away his metal plates. Durindan slices everything, until it strikes him on his flank. If I tell, one by one, the blows, the constant fire and sparks they throw, we'll be here till tomorrow's dawn (over a thousand blows were made), so I won't; But you can imagine that not Achilles, Hercules, Hector of Troy, or mighty Samson could have stood up to these two barons. What Tristan, what Sir Galahad,~*what* errant cavalier would not~be worn by the ordeal of that~awful and arduous encounter? The two knights furiously fight from early morn to dark of night. Neither requests rest from that frenzy: Each thinks that he's the better man. The sky was full of stars before~those barons even _talked_ of stopping -- Their hearts were full of so much venom, each one was _sure_ he'd kill the other. After the daylight disappeared, they quit their battle, out of shame, since, at that time, to fight /at night/~was not considered honorable. Orlando shouted, "You can thank~the sun whose light is waning now (L) that~your demise has been delayed, though~much to my sorrow and disgust." Rinaldo answers, "Let it go: You may defeat me in debate, (R) but you've won nothing in this battle, and don't think, while I live, you will! "I myself would not hesitate (R) (to show I'm not afraid of you) to end this fight now, right away, since you don't scare me, night or day." The Count responded, "Villain! Thief! (L) Pitiful wretch, you have revealed ~ *your* nature -- how you're _used_ to fighting~while *hidden* in the woods at night. I want to battle you by day so you can clearly see your shame, and so you cannot run away or hide and guard against my wrath!" Rinaldo said, [sarcastic] "Well, I *am* glad that I'm so far away from home, (R) so I won't bring my father pain, it being so clear I'll be slain! "I /can fight/ (R) hidden in the forest, high on a hill, out on a plain. I'll battle when the day is light, morning till evening, *and* at night. You hold your honor with such care, you won't fight till the sun is high, thinking your /looks/ will scare the foe!" Around them stood the other barons, Marfisa's and Angelica's, since they had left their war that day to watch the conflict these two waged. It was decided they'd return~next morning, when they'd take the field~to settle in a final fight _which_ was the boldest, strongest knight. Come back again, dear friends, and I will tell you how this duel ends. For now, I'll rest my voice a while, and so, I leave you, with a smile.