Orlando in Love, episode 33: Thieves and Traps The Count Orlando had been sent upon a quest by a lady fair. That quest has been completed, so he wants to return to her now. With him is Brandymart, a knight~whom he had rescued on his way, a friend of his for some time now. During their third day on the road, they found a field beside a stream, a meadow filled with comely green. -- Be still, if you would like to hear~about the two that they found here, the one who chased, the one who ran: no game was ever so much fun. I'll give their names: you may recall~the story when the African, the thief /Brunello/, stole away the sword from Queen /Marfisa's/ hand; Marfisa, that strong saracen who's known as "the Invincible"! She's chased him for a long time now, while threatening that he'd be hanged. He mocked her and he scorned her and he cocked at her a hundred figs: @ He led her anywhere he wished. Already she had chased for six~full days, lured on as he played tricks~that aggravate and torment her. -- He /could/ have slipped away with ease, so fast that he'd be hard to see, since he was mounted on a steed more spirited than any known. This horse, the thief had stolen just before he stole Marfisa's sword. He ran away: he _seemed_ afraid and stayed out front, not too far, then, circling swiftly round the plain, he'd sneak up on her from behind. Then, just to show how much he cared, {mime taking off shirt} he'd _snap_ his jerkin at her head @ and he'd rise up (now listen hard) and bare his naked rear at her! @ -- To one side Count Orlando stood, and he and Brandymarte watched~and laughed together at the knave. Marfise though, by her strength or skill is out to catch Brunello still, to make him pay for all his wrongs. But he flees like a thunderbolt. and as he fled he turned his head and mocked her with his tongue and brows; (L) Just then, he saw the Count ahead, and schemed to fleece _Orlando_, too!. His keen eye seized upon the magic~sword the Count had just acquired. It was so beautiful -- adorned~with gold and pearls and di-amonds -- that only /desperation/ might~force the thief to pass up that hilt. -- He _snatched_ it from Orlando's side, @ showing unprecedented scorn. As he rode past the Count, he shouted, {nasal villain} "Listen! Next time I'll take your horn!" (L) Orlando had not missed his weapon when he heard that his horn was threatened. That horn he'd won from an African king, who'd carved it from an elephant's tusk. The Count esteemed it dear as life. He clutched it closely in his hand, but that was no defense against~the evil thief from Africa. I cannot /with precision/ say what happened on the plain that day, but it's no lie that I relate: Brunello stole that horn away. And though Marfisa still gave chase, he made off with the horn and blade, leaving the Count behind to wonder~where in the world his sword had gone. -- Already he and Brandymart~can't see the thief -- he's gone from sight, spurring before Marfisa's speed -- and they can't catch that man on foot. (They'd lost _their_ horses, earlier.) -- Meanwhile, Marfise does not give up but hunts him endless days and nights through woody hills and swollen streams -- swamps, forests are no obstacles -- Brunello's fast horse, though, makes~her pursuit a useless quest, indeed. She pursued him for fifteen days, subsisting only on some leaves. That false thief, who is highly skilled, supports his flight with other fare. As he is fast (and daring too) whatever tavern he beholds, he enters for a bite to eat,~then flees. He never pays his bill. After he drinks, he lifts the cup @ and claims that he has paid the host, by merely calling, "Your good health!" (L) And when the tavern men and maids pursued with pitchers and and with pots,~he rode away. He licked his chops, and he showed them a thousand smirks. -- And still Marfisa followed him, "Stop him!" she screamed out, "Stop that thief!" (R) Everyone said, "A thief indeed!" (C) That glutton made them all lament because he stole the choicest bites. He did not wait, nor ask for scraps, but always took the stuffed and fat. Brunello stops a thousand times: he slows... he slows... she closes in... @ but he slips off, flees like the wind. -- That fervent woman followed him~for fifteen days, as I have said, and she'd become extremely weak, from eating only grass and leaves. She will not stop till he is caught, her heart is so presumptuous. She can't see her pursuit's no use: He rides a horse, and she's on foot. You see, her charger lost its force -- on the eighth day, it fell, a corpse. Her stallion dead, she used her legs~instead, and armed with hauberk, sped~so swift that greyhound from the leash -- or arrow swooping from the bow, or falcon diving from the sky~to valley -- would be left behind. -- Strength faltering, and long-fatigued, Marfisa bore her armor~as a heavy load; so, since she scorned~Brunello's /force,/ she stripped it off. After she set aside that weight, she ran so fast, she was so fleet, she gave Brunello several scares, although his steed flew like the breeze. Often she came so close he thought~that she would mount his horse's back, and he would race at breakneck speed, spurring with full force his good steed, Marfise -- untiring -- at his heels. Suddenly, something _new_ appeared, distracting her, who, otherwise, would have chased hard until she'd died. -- I'll tell that story later, since I go back to Orlando, now, who walked along with Brandymart. The barons walked along the plain and soon arrived beside a river. I a fair field across the water, they saw a damsel on a horse She'd just arrived, upon a ferry~another woman piloted. Orlando stares across the stream. He _knows_ that horse -- _his_ Brigliador! Snatched by that double-crossing girl~before. I hope that you'll recall how /Origille/ stole his horse. Orlando fell in love, and~travelled with this maid, some time ago. Deceitful, she'd abandoned him And stolen both his horse and sword. (The sword Brunello'd snatched away, he had acquired more recently), -- When the Count saw the maid across~the stream with Brigliador, his horse, _Love_ *hammered* him another time, and he /forgot/ the double trick that wicked girl had played on him. He loved her even more this time and asked the ferry lady if~she'd take him to the other side. When Origille recognized~Orlando, she was sure she'd die. Not knowing what to say, embarrassed, she turned pale and she dropped her eyes. But her fear is unnecessary: Orlando loves her past belief. And this is what he proved to her, when he reached her, with gentle words. She weeps... or gives a good _performance,_ as every woman's wont to do, She twists her hands together, @ as~one who is used to twisting words, and finds excuses for her faults. -- While they were making conversation in the green meadow by the stream, they heard a loud horn echo from~a little castle on a hill, and then they saw the bridge descend and down the slope the keeper came, an old man, horsed, yet weaponless, who led a large band of armed men. Reaching them, he beheld the Count and greeted him with courtesy. With quiet words and honest looks~he said, "I tell you, gentlemen, (L) this is King Manodante's realm~you've entered, {old man} and you cannot leave unless you _serve_ him for one day! And you will serve him in this manner... Where this stream flows to meet the sea (L) two castles and a bridge are built. A wicked _wizard's_ living there: He has killed many cavaliers. This necromancer is a *giant,* and _Balisarrto_ is his name. "King Manodante wants him caught (L) since he's done damage to the realm, and he has ordered every knight~who wants to cross this lovely stream to swear he'll _fight_ with Balisarrt till he is captured... or he /wins!/ -- Now, without further conversation, the Count is ferried in the boat~downstream with wary Brandymart~and Origille by his side. At length, they curved round to the sea, where they beheld a lofty bridge between two castle's towering walls. Above the stream, upon that arch, stands the fierce pagan, Balisarrt, just like a _turret_ on the bridge. Nothing can be compared to him. No giant ever was so large, His face was bearded, his looks cruel, and his voice like a {thunderclap}. He screams out with a strident voice {brandish arms} that shakes the river and the shore. -- There'd be a battle on this spot, and all of *Hell* was helping /one,/ while his /opponent/ was _so_ strong, that nobody countered /him/ for long. Nobody stood before the gate, no doors were closed: there was no grate. Orlando crossed the courtyard, and found Balisarrto in the archway. Though Brandymart had begged him hard to let /him/ be the first to fight, Orlando would not give consent, but sword drawn, _he_ defied the giant. @ (Orlando, by the way, had gotten~Durindan back, from the maid,) and so a cruel, fierce duel commenced along the estuary bridge. -- If you could hear the shattering~of armament, the ringing helms, and see the giant pound his~club -- @ while the Count swings good Durindan -- @ If you could see the mess of plate~and mail that falls to earth, or /flies/ -- There's not a brave soul anywhere such furor would not terrify. Their clash left scattered on the field the greater portion of both shields. Their helmet crests had been knocked off, their hauberks dropped from them in pieces. I cannot tell you easily the details of their _boundless_ swings. -- The Count's desire and strength had grown: the other panted, _his_ speed slowed. Soon Balisarrt had many wounds. That wizard cast a spell to change~his shape, as he has done before. On every side his armor gaped, the fissures spewing fire and flame, as black smoke cloaked him and the Count. The walls shook and the meadow quaked. He slowly took a *demon's* shape. His skin wrapped round him like a snake's, and new mouths opened, spitting flames, while a horn grew above each ear. His _limbs_ stayed where they were, but they~were altered as from night to day. His dark face was so horrible, it would make anyone afraid. He had enormous, batlike wings and hands with talons like sharp hooks, bird legs, and feet webbed like a goose, the long tail of a big baboon. He held a pitchfork in his hand, with which he threatened that bold knight, gnashing his teeth and breathing fire and howling high and frightful cries. -- Orlando crossed himself and smiled "I always thought the devil (R) was~a lot _more_ fierce and hideous. {Connery Knight} Go _back_ to hell among the the damned, but if you've come to _battle,_ I'll~find out how brawny you are, as~a demon _or_ as Balisarrt." Then these combatants clashed again: neither backed off. Orlando swung~his sword at Balisarrto's fork and Durindana sliced it through, Now when the tricky rascal knew~his magic arts would be no use, he turned and ran towards the shore, beating his wings as if he'd soar; but that large giant weighs so much, that his feet don't /quite/ leave the ground. -- Orlando followed. He stayed close~behind, exerting all his force, as Balisarrto raced ahead: his life is forfeit if he trips. He raised his tail up as he ran and blew out stinking wind and flame. He panted -- he's scared -- and his tongue~dangled six inches from his mouth. Brandymart followed after to~observe the outcome of this duel, as Balisarrto, then Orlando, bounded down to the harbor's shore. -- And there that evil ship was moored~that made so many miserable. Here, Balisarrt had set a _net_ which captured many knights before. As Balisarrto leaped on board, the Count relentlessly pursued. The wizard jumped _across_ the net that he had -- evil man -- prepared, but Count Orlando tripped the chain, and in a flash he was restrained. The Count had hardly hit the deck when sailors came from every side, their skipper too, and they all cried, "Stay still knight! You're our prisoner!" (L) {deep, rude} He twisted, turned, he never ceased. @ To be caught by such men as these -- what shame! The Count's face burned bright red as two large varlets seized him by~the arms and carried him away. -- When Brandymarte reached the shore (he'd followed, as I said before), he saw the Count's plight and no more~was needed -- he raced to the rescue. A single leap put him on board (the trap had not been reset yet) and he so terrified the crew, they leave the Count -- what could they do? They flee to.the.stern or leap to sea. Those rogues were right to be afraid. Brandymart halved one at the waist @ and sliced another's chest in two -- @ precisely, as if he had aimed. Witnessing that and fearing worse, daunted and trembling, sailors fled till Balisarrt again emerged. -- The giant came from underneath~the poop deck, in his proper shape. The many men of his ship's crew were at his back and by his side. Their arms were rusty; some of them~went barefoot; others missed some limbs -- but they knew how to sail and wield colossal cross-bows, darts, and shields. Balisarrt's presence gave those villains the courage to stand and fight again. The bloody battle starts anew. -- Brandymart gives out vicious swings, @ these men aren't worth a straw to him. | Backhand and forehand his sword whips @ until blood covers that whole ship. And when he spotted Balisarrt, who seemed to be an armored tower, Brandymart went right after him -- aiming a blow at the giant's waist. A little lower his sword fell -- sword-strokes can't be predicted well -- but, his legs cut, he dropped right down. His weight made such a mighty crash, @ the ship was almost swamped by it. His trunk was stretched across the deck, while both legs fell into the sea. Useless was necromantic skill, as Brandymarte stabbed him still. He tried to summon fiends, for help, but Brandymart chopped off his head and let it plummet to the sea. -- And._now_ the dance of death resumed among the poor, forsaken crew, who jumped into the sea, the hold,~or climbed the rigging to the mast. Most of these wasted, wretched men~were done to death. There was no one~remaining now upon the deck except the Count (who was in chains), Balisarrt (fixed as he deserved), and Brandymart, chasing the skipper now. The skipper dropped down to his knees. "Mercy!" he cried incessantly, (L) and -- as was right -- he won a pardon. Then Brandymarte quickly went to free Orlando from the net, After Orlando had been freed,~the skipper spoke. "My lords," he said, (L) "I know you must be wondering about this ship, {old, nasal} and why we're here. So you can understand my tale, I'll tell it to you plain and clear. "An old king, Manodante, (L) lives~among the _Islands Far Away,_ and he has gathered greater wealth than any mind could contemplate. But Fortune _never,_ in the end, makes him -- or /any/ man -- content. "This troubled monarch was, and is,~comfortless (L) due to his two sons. The first was kidnapped as a baby by a deceitful slave who took~the child and never did return. The other youngster is involved in strange misfortune, as you'll hear. "He is imprisoned by a fay. (L) Ever heard of Morgana? She's~infatuated with the boy~and his supreme, angelic looks. She's shut him up deep in the earth -- no one can get him out by force. "Morgana's made the king a vow (L) that she'll release him, safe and sound, if he'll bring her a Christian knight, /Orlando,/ as a prisoner. -- "For reasons too long to.tell.now, (L) she _hates_ this /Orlando/ with a passion. That fay's determined -- she wants him~locked up (she'll get him, if I'm right), but since he's very bold and fierce, his capture's an enormous feat. "This Balisarrto (dead now, (L) thus~he's suffering the consequence) boasted before our king he'd lure~Orlando in by magic arts. "Sadly, his plan did not succeed, (L) although he caught so many men I couldn't name them properly, (He sent them all to Manodant.) "One was 'Grifon,' one 'Aquilant:' (L) one named 'Astolfo' fell to him, and a 'Rinaldo' recently~was caught, and with him, some young man... if I remember... named 'Dudon'. "And many other prisoners~are there. (L) I can't list all of them, but there's a register below which you may look at if you like." -- While the man chattered on this way, Orlando's heart grew full of rage because the knights the sailor named were the choice flowers of Christendom. The Count loved every one of them and grieved to learn they were in prison. The daring knight decided he'd _free_ them, or *die* in the attempt. Orlando has a /plan/ in mind, but it must wait another time; Then he will be betrayed again by she whom he loved, foolishly. I thank you, gentle ladies, lords, for listening, here, to my words; I wish you long life, health, and ease, But I have said enough and cease.