Orlando in Love, episode 31: Morgana, Queen of Fortune Listen and hear what I advise, you who pursue the courtier's path: if you don't capture Fortune fast, she'll fret, she'll turn aside her face. You have to keep your eyelids raised, and be prepared to seize the day. /Who/ curses Fortune, claiming that~the fault is /hers,/ but _theirs_ the hurt? Occasion comes to us just once, as I'll soon show you in my tale. Tonight, Orlando learns, to his~regret, how fast fleet Fortune is. Orlando's fallen in the trap made by the sorceress Morgana. She built a bridge, and guarded it with~a fiend who captured everyone. This monster had enchanted strength, and tossed all foes into her lake. But those thrown down there are /not/ drowned, for _underneath_ the lake there is~a magic grotto, wide and dry. Still -- other traps remain within, and everyone is captured there. Orlando, though he fell down there, had killed the fiend in doing so. The sorceress would never catch another traveler with that trap. But still, Orlando has been caught within her ~ magic under-world. The Count looks, wonders what to do. There's not another soul in view, but only rocks and hills to see: The white stone bank surrounding him did not allow him to ascend. There, on the side that day appears there was, carved by a chisel's point, an open portal, royal, high: the world has never seen its like. Orlando, as I said, looked round, saw the carved portal in the stone, and walking to that door apace, comes quickly to the entranceway. Surveying it, he sees it's clad with precious gold and pearls and gems and glaze of subtle workmanship. Fearless, he travelled through the cave, and he had almost gone three miles~down that dark path, without a lamp, when he met something marvelous. Ahead, a simple, shining stone, its every facet seeming fire, gave him light, showing.him a cavern~bright as heaven's sun at noon. The gem revealed a stream ahead, twenty yards wide, or slightly less. This rivulet runs underneath~a bridge of very narrow width -- And on each side a statue made~of iron stands, like an armed man. Beyond the stream's the very plain on which Morgana stores her /treasure./ The glowing ruby sheds its light~across a field so full of jewels, to tell of them would take a book. Now listen: this is something strange. Orlando neared the bridge, but then~the statue -- it's enchanted -- lifts~head-high an overwhelming club. @ Orlando has his magic sword to parry properly the dint but does not need to answer, since~it strikes *the bridge*, @ and the bridge /sinks/. Orlando watched what had occurred and greatly marveled in his mind, for gradually another bridge~arose, @ right where the first had been. The Count approached it daringly, and yet he made no headway, since~the statue let no man across. It smashed the bridge away again. @ Orlando marveled at this sight. He thought, "What am I waiting for? (R) Were that stream even ten miles wide, {Connery-Knight} I _still_ would reach the other side!" That speech done, he prepared to jump. It's true that he backed up a bit~to run. As if he had wings, he -- though armored -- crossed with one long leap. @ Reaching the bank along the meadow~in which Morgana stored her treasure, he saw a statue of a king with many councillors around him. They seemed to pay the king respect. This king was sitting on a throne, and every limb was made of gold, and all assembled there were covered with rubies, pearls, and di-amonds. Before him was a table set~with many foods, as for a feast, but fashioned of enamel glaze. A sharp sword hung above his head -- threatening death at every moment -- and on his left, a step off, one~who'd notched an arrow on his bow. @ This guardian possessed a twin -- their features were identical -- one who held forth a brief inscription, @ the words of which proclaimed just this: "Money and rank and all the world (L) are worthless when possessed in fear; {hollow voice} Power and pasttimes please no one when won or held with apprehension." The king looked sad, and this was why; he stared around suspiciously. Before him on the lofty table, on a gold lily sat /the stone:/ It gave light as a lantern would, making the farthest corners bright -- and that courtyard was huge, a square~five hundred yards along each side. The plaza floor was paved with thick~flagstone. The walls were solid rock. Through four doors, one could leave that court; each one was elegantly wrought. There are no windows and no light except that of the brilliant ruby, and such a splendor it displayed, the sun gives little more by day. Orlando disregards the jewel~and starts to travel toward one door but finds, beyond, it is so dark~he cannot tell which way to go. So, he comes back and tries the doors~remaining in the other walls. He tries them all without a pause; each is /as/ dim and sorrowful. Standing stock still, he pondered and his heart recalled the precious gem~that, he thought, seemed to burn with fire. Quickly he runs to get the ruby. /The statue,/ though, at once lets fly @ an arrow from its taut, drawn bow. It entered straightaway the ruby, _dousing_ that lamp with a great "bang!" At once, the earth began to quake and with much din the cavern shook. The hollow cave on all sides roared -- no greater sound was ever heard. Orlando, steadfast, did not move, like someone who was unafraid. Look! On the lily, once again, the gem rests, and emits bright rays. He tries once more to grab the stone, but when he touches it, just then, the archer by the king's side shoots~a golden arrow from his bow. @ The earthquake, for an hour or more, shook the whole cavern with a roar, but, when it ceased, that fair red light~glowed from the ruby, as before. The great Orlando now made plans: he'd get that gem no matter what. He took his shield and held it forward, @ just where the archer aimed his arrow, and _grabbed_ the jewel. Immediately, straight at his shield the arrow flew, but that vain shaft could not pierce through. Ruby in hand, Orlando moved. And then, as Fortune guided him, he did not take the right-hand way, which would have led /from/ that dark cave: That knight -- astute -- did not ascend. Instead, he went _down_ to the prison: from there, return is fraught with danger. There, bold Rinaldo was imprisoned with other knights and ladies. Over~seventy maids and men were there, and they had no hope of escaping~this strange and ghastly sorcery, but all think they're completely lost. Orlando, as I said before, descended through the labyrinth. He went left, down a marble stairway, more than a mile, then reached the plain. He gradually began to see~the cavern ended at a door, an exit from that shadowed path. High above, on a craggy cornice, were carved the letters of these words: "Damsel or knight, you who've arrived, (L) {hollow voice} know that you enter easily, but you _won't_ reascend so fast unless you catch that able fay~who always flees, who never stays, her head of hair is _bald_ in back." --- Orlando did not heed the words, but that bold baron went inside, and in a while he reached a meadow. The Count beheld the grass and flowers~and gazing, he was overjoyed, since no one ever has heard tell or seen in all the world a place~more noble, beautiful, and fair. The cloudless sky here beamed so bright no sapphire could surpass its blue, and small trees filled the meadowland, each bearing fruit, though each still bloomed. A mile or less beyond the door a high wall splits the field in two, made of /transparent/ stones, through which~a lovely garden could be viewed. Orlando leaves the door behind,~and as he walks along the grass, he spies a nearby fountain trimmed~with gold and pearls and every gem, And there Morgana lies, her face~turned toward the sky. She is asleep; So sweet, so beautiful to see, she would bring _any_ sad soul cheer. Orlando stood, admi-ring~quietly, careful not to wake her. She'd _all_ her hair /above/ her brow, _few_ tresses -- rather, /none/ -- in back, a merry, mobile, mocking face, and nimble limbs, prepared to flee; Her white and crimson clothes, would slip~from anyone who tried to grip. "If you don't seize, before she wakes, (R) {young knight} the one who lies before you, knight, you'll pound the soles of both your feet pursuing her down evil paths and you'll feel such fatigue, such pain, before you snatch her by the hair, that you'll be thought an earthly _saint_ if you can bear such strife with patience." The Count heard these words spoken to him~ and, walking maybe thirty steps, he quickly reached the lofty wall of solid yet transparent crystal: Nothing prevents his looking in. And as he peered, Orlando learned~that he who'd spoken previously was trapped beyond that crystal wall. He recognized the man at once, /Dudon the Dane,/ sir Ogier's son! Imagine how each one laments. Each spreads his hands apart, as if~preparing to embrace the other. He tells Dudone, "It's no use. ~ I have no way of reaching you." (R) {Connery-deep knight} Meanwhile Rinaldo Montalban came, arm in arm with Brandimart: They had not thought to see the Count, and both of them wept pitifully. Rinaldo said, "/His/ sword is still~girt to his hip: (L) {rude knight} his back wears armor, By God, he'll rescue all of us! _His_ courage won't be overcome. "And yet, I cannot celebrate: (L) I don't know whether he's still mad because I wrongly fought with him~and almost died, through my own fault. "I _never_ should have disagreed~with him, (L) for any cause at all. He is my elder -- it's correct~for me to treat him with respect." Brandimart told Rinaldo, bold, "Don't worry over what was said. (R) {middling-deep knight} When we're released, as God is true, I will make peace between you two." The Count Orlando turned by chance and recognized them both at once. And when he understood their fate, which each of them in tears explained, the Count felt, in his heart, great pain. Orlando's all the more distressed~that, though he /saw/ them, he was _helpless._ Before his eyes he saw Rinaldo and all the others whom he loved, and so in grief and great hot rage, he raised his sword to _strike_ the wall; @ But every prisoner shouts, "Stop! Stay still, by God!" they all cry out. (R) {frantic knights} "The moment that this wall is riven, we'll fall into a lightless hole!" Continuing the speech, a maid ~ whose anguish cast death on her face, one who was beautiful, though pale, offered the Count these guiding words: "To rescue us from this cruel jail,~Baron, (L) {high lady} you must come through the gate~of emeralds and di-amonds. You can't come in any other way. "And not by wisdom, strength, or threats, (L) or daring, or a pleasing speech can you make that door open if~/Morgana/ won't yield you the key. "_First_ she will flee, (L) until you think~no torture's worse than following~that fay all through her wilderness~of guileful hopes and certain grief. "Strength conquers all things in the end. (L) He who persists, if he's strong, wins. You gaze on many strangers here whose only hope for life is *you.* "All of _us_ -- miserable, forlorn -- (L) fell to this dungeon, caught by force. Only you, prized above all men, have come into this place by _arms._ Therefore, good hope persuades us that~you _will_ win honor in this task and open up that sorry door~that keeps us closed in misery. "Delay no more. (L) Perhaps the fay~is not aware of you, fair lord. Turn quickly. Seek the spring. Maybe~you still will find Morgana there!" The Count, who wished to enter, went~to seek the fountain instantly. He found Morgana there, who danced~around with joy and, dancing, sang. Less lightly moves a leaf in wind~than she did, twirling ceaselessly. @ These were the lyrics to her song: "Whoever looks for wealth on earth, (R) {sultry lady} dominion, honor, or delight, may seize this golden forelock I~wear on my brow: I'll give him bliss. And when he is prepared for this,~let him not wait. Past time does not~return. It never reoccurs. I turn away and leave him hurt." Thus did the lovely fairy sing, dancing around the fresh, cool spring, but when she saw Orlando come, she turned -- at once -- her face from him. Abandoning the field and fountain, she started running toward a mountain. The Count pursued her past that peak. He meant to catch her at all costs, and he kept close behind her. Then, he saw he'd reached a wasteland, where~the path was bad. No path was worse. The land was stony everywhere. Now high, now low among the dales were tangled snags and vicious briars. It does not hamper him, that road. Hard work is /food/, for one who's bold. He tramples briars and brush and thorns, leaving a widened road behind him. Now at his back the sky grows dim, there comes a furious, great wind and rain falls, mixed with hardened hail, battering down that dreadful field. The sun is gone, no thing is bright... /except/ when.*lightning* _splits_ the sky! Thunder and lightning, bolts and forks, tempestu-ous clouds, rain and wind fill up the sky and plains and hills. The fury grows, it never stops. There's no defense against the gale. Blind to the storm, the Count pursues. But his misfortune grows and grows, for from a cave a woman came, her body thin, with pallid face, the color of her clothes like clay. She held a short, sharp whip in hand, and flailed her shoulders and her back. @ That poor thing cried and beat herself as if she'd been constrained by law~to crack that whip from dusk to dawn. The Count was troubled by the sight and asked the woman who she was. She answered, "_I_ am _Penitence,_ (L) {crone} shorn of all joy and happiness. I follow those who /Fortune/ flees! "Now I shall come along with /you,/ (L) who _left_ Morgana in the field, and while this dreary journey lasts, you will be thumped and whipped by me -- Nor will your courage help, or strength: you'll have to arm yourself with _patience!_" Orlando answered her at once: "Patience! That is a _coward's_ dish! (R) Don't set your mind on vexing me, since /patient/ _I_ will *never* be! If you reproach me, you'll get hurt." Orlando spoke. Meanwhile Morgana~ran ahead, lead lengthening. The Count cut off his conference. He started to pursue the fay, and he determined in his heart that he would win this test or die. But she whom I have just described, who offered him her company, went after him with gestures fit~for driving dogs from sculleries. Reaching him with her whip in hand, @ she beat his back distressfully. Orlando, who is most disturbed, gave her an evil look and said, "You'll never make of _me_ a villain: (R) My sword will _never_ strike a woman. But if I grab you by the hair, I'll _hurtle_ you a *mile* through air!" The crone, like one who's lost her wits, says nothing, and she pays no heed. The Count, who means to hurt her, turns~and throws a punch at her left cheek. @ [cock right fist, whoosh!] But it's as if he strikes the wind, a river, or thick bank of mist; Right through her head he passed his fist~from side to side. @ No flesh resists. The Count's punch does not injure her, and still she snaps her whip at him. @ Orlando's stupefied and stunned, scarcely believing what he sees. Assailed and set aflame with rage, he kicks and jabs her twice as hard, @ @ but nothing works. It is as if~he pestled -- in a mortar -- water. After he'd fought that crone, who~seemed /a shade,/ for quite some time in vain, Orlando left her, to pursue~Morgana, who's now far ahead. But still, to his disgrace and shame, that lowly woman batters him. The Count has done what he can do: gritting his teeth, he runs, pursues. "If God, or if the devil, (R) wants~me to be patient, I _shall_ be. But let the world know this --" said he, "The taste of it is *terrible!* What madness of the mind, what dream has led me down inside this trap? Where did I enter? When? Am I~Orlando still, or someone else?" He speaks thus and -- precipitous -- tracks the enchantress as she flees. Quite soon he catches up with her. The fairy's caught, so he believes, but that thought is his enemy. He's fooled: she flees, though she was seized. How many times he laid his keen~hands on her body, @ on her clothes! Her white and scarlet dress gives him~the slip as soon as he has hope. At last she turned to look -- just once -- @ as his good fortune -- and God -- wished, and as she turned to face the Count, he seized the forelock of her brow. @ The weather changed: The dismal air~grew clear, and all the sky serene. The rugged mountain turned to plain, and places that had been all thorns were spread with flowers and forest green. The old crone's flagellations ceased,~and she, more pleasant than before, turned to the Count and said these words: "Attend well, baron, to the lock~of /Fortune/ (L) twisted in your hand, and take care to adjust your load -- balance it so it does not fall. "When she's most passive and subdued, (L) watch that she does not run away. Those who believe in her are fools. She is inconstant -- faithless too!" So did that pallid woman speak and when she had no more to say she went back to her dreary cave, to beat herself and make laments. But Count Orlando clutched, I say,~Morgana, and without delay, now with.threats, now with pleasant words, he asked her for her prison's key. The fay, with devious looks and smiles,~said, "At your pleasure, cavalier, (R) is every person captured here: You may have all of them, and me! "Just leave King Manodante's son. (R) Please! ~This alone I ask of you. Leave him behind, or take me too: If I lose _him,_ my life is through! "That young man struck me in my heart: (R) He is my love and my desire. Therefore, I beg of you, by God, if you have ever loved a lady, don't take my lover from the garden! Take all the rest, however many! I'll hand them over, every one!" -- Orlando said, "I swear to you (R) that if you let me have the key, the young man _will_ stay here with you, because your heart desires him so. "But I _won't_ let /you/ go, (R) for I~don't think that I could find my way~back down that foul road, alone. Therefore, give me the key at once, and I will give _you_ what you ask. Morgana takes the solid silver~key off of her belt, @ and hands~it to the Count without delay. She said, "Audacious cavalier, (R) go to the door and work with care. Make sure that you don't break the bolt, or you will drop to a dark dungeon; Each knight that's here will drop with you, and you'll all be forever doomed. There's nothing that will free you, not~my arts nor anyone's assistance." The Count's concerned about this entrance, because he knew, and properly, that few are found beneath the moon able to handle /Fortune's/ key. He kept hold of Morgana's hair and sought her garden out at once; Crossing the level countryside, he quickly at the gate arrived. With little trouble, he unfastened~its strange lock -- thanks be to God! When one has Fortune _with_ him, he~turns /Fortune's key/ the _proper_ way. When that rich gateway opened up, everyone came out on the field. Rinaldo, Brandimarte, all~who had been captured at the bridge. Each Christian and each Saracen, hands joined together, thanked their God. The Count asked for the boy with whom~Morgana was so much in love. He saw a white and lovely youth, blushing and delicate of face, merry and sweet in deeds and speech. He's blond. His name is /Zilliant./ The boy remains inside and weeps~to see the other people leave, Fair Ziliant made loud laments, cursed his misfortune, and he railed. Now greatly Count Orlando grieves, but he _must_ keep his word. And yet~a time _will_ come when he will sigh, when he'll be sorry for this deed, for he will have to come _back_ here to free the young man from this place. They left him there. The others passed~the garden gate by twos and threes. Then everyone, Orlando first, went up the darkened passageway. They reached the plaza filled with treasure, where the king sat with councillors, made of gold, rubies, diamonds, pearls. All who had been imprisoned stared, astonished by that workmanship, but no one dared to touch a thing: they feared a spell or something strange. /Rinaldo,/ to whom fear's unknown, picked up a chair of solid gold. He said, "I'll take _this_ back to France; (L) I've never captured finer plunder. This gold will guarantee me soldiers: I'll never want for men again!" Orlando told him it was base to travel loaded like a mule. Rinaldo said, "I know a friar~who used to preach, (L) and his job was~to tell the good of abstinence. He easily showed this with /words,/ but he had such a /bulging/ _paunch,_ that he could /hardly/ even _walk._ "Your words are like that friar's -- false. (L) You preach precisely as he does, who praises fasts, /his/ body filled, whose only prayers are for his geese. "King Charles rewards _you_ lavishly, (L) and you're provisioned by the _Pope._ You've towns and castles numberless: You're count of Blaye, lord of Anglant! "*I'm* *poor!* I hardly own _one_ hill -- (L) Montalban's _all_ I have on earth! Sometimes I've got no food unless~I go and earn it on the plain! "When something lucky comes /my/ way, (L) I help myself with _both_ my hands, since I believe it's no disgrace~to take things when there's _need_ for them." As they conversed, they came upon~the passage leading from the courtyard, and here a _huge_ /wind/ hit Rinaldo, pushing him backward from the door. The whirlwind touches no one else; Only Rinaldo feels its force. He leaps up, heading toward the doorway, but when he tries to cross the threshold, the whirlwind presses him once more and blows him backward like a leaf. The others are distraught, but Count~Orlando worried more than all because he greatly feared that knight~would not desist -- and might be killed. Rinaldo is quite unafraid. He /could/ have freely gone his way, but he _still_ wants to get the gold, so he can hire valiant men. Now, once again he is repulsed: thus loaded, he can't leave the cave. He *flings* the chair against the blasting~wind that pours forth from the door. This chair that's made of solid gold @ seems like a stone shot from a sling, though~it weighs several hundred pounds, such prowess has that baron bold. As I have said, he _flings_ that chair, thinking he'll throw it through the doorway. Unyielding, though, the raging wind~thrust that throne backward once again. The others gather round Rinaldo. Each of them begs him by his love to leave that prison with them now and leave its fairy spells and gold. At last he gave up his attempt and passed the portal with the others. It was a mile along the path before they reached the stairs of stone and then three miles of hard ascent. They climbed the smooth rock steadily~and, after great travail, emerged~in bright day on a cypress field. They knew that meadow instantly, the river, bridge, and cypress trees: In this place all had met defeat, until Orlando triumphed here. The weapons of each cavalier were dangling from the verdant trees. The rogue had hung them upside down to render their disgrace more plain. Quickly, Rinaldo and Dudon~and all the others took their own, and every daring cavalier soon armed himself in his right gear. These knights now went their several ways, some went towards home, some to a quest, some sought out love, and others war, but of them, I will say no more, since I've now reached _this_ story's end. I'll show such marvels in the /next:/ nothing on earth resembles them!