Orlando in Love, Episode 42: Pagans and Demons King Rodomont, a pagan knight, has come to France with fire and sword. He fought the Paladin Rinaldo, and thought him bold beyond belief. but battle swept the two apart, no victor clear between these knights. King Rodomont decides he wants~to find Rinaldo at all costs. Leaving his army on the shore, he rides towards the Arden Wood, where he'd heard that his foe had gone. "May heaven grant this gift to me, (L) that I might find that baron bold~and _kill_ him - /or/ make peace with him. If he's dead, I'm unmatched on earth, but _with_ him, I could conquer *heaven*! -- He reached a plain (now it was day) through which a baron slowly rode. Rodomont courteously spoke and asked that cavalier if he~knew how to get to Arden Wood. That baron quickly answered him, "I wouldn't know which way to choose, since I'm a stranger here, like you, and I go wailing and in woe, regarding neither paths nor roads, to where my fortune carries me, to death, destruction, or despair, directed by _disloyal_ love." -- So you will fully know the facts, that mournful baron, who was so~distressed by love, was /Ferra'u/, one time a leading light of strength. Now he came back, that smoldering soul, in secret and incognito to France, his only aim to learn whether Angelica'd returned. His love still lasted for that lady as (from the start) you've heard me say, but he'd obtained no news of her though he asked everyone he met. Through this adventure and through that, despairing, he consumed himself, was comfortless both day and night. He languished and, in torment, sighed. -- Now as you heard, the young man met~the pagan king within the wood, and they passed time together for~a while, both hurt by Love, both sore. Mention was made, as they conversed, that Ferra'u had come from Spain where he'd _once_ loved a certain lady. The daughter of a pagan king, this lady's name was Doralice. "Say no more," cut in Rodomont, " but be prepared to battle me. Who brought you, you unfortunate, to die today upon this plain? I can't and won't endure on earth another man in love with _her_!" Ferra'u said, "You are so big! Your stubbornness discredits you -- But since you're asking me to duel, we'll settle this thing, right or wrong. "Your overreaching insolence will bring distressing dividends: I loved her, my love passed, but now~I'd love her just to bother you!" -- With such words, and with many more, those two knights challenged one another. They turned their lances tow'rds each other. No crueler joust was ever heard. Their horses charged and slammed their chests~and, with the knights still mounted, fell~with turmoil that I cannot tell. Their lances, thick past measuring, splinter and fracture to the hilts. Each moves to disengage himself and have a second bout with swords. A hard-fought battle now begins with never-ending swings and showers~of broken plate and armaments: They pound like smithies at a forge. Their swinging never stops or pauses: Each promises, and each delivers. I cannot positively say which one is stronger, which more daring: They have such high hearts, such great strength, no pair on earth's equivalent. Ferra'u is the shorter one: but he won't yield an _inch_ of field. He's shorter, but he's just as bold, for all small men are valorous! It's true! Their hearts are closer to~their limbs, and, thus, they're better joined. Still, a brave dog should have thick skin to compensate for lack of strength. They're hot with rage and full of pride, with terrible disdain, they fight, Neither one knows the other's name, but neither would be slow to swear he's never found a stronger man. -- As they continued their fierce fight a courier travelled through that plain. He stopped a little while to say: "If one of you two is from France, then I can tell you evil news: Treacherous Marsile, king of Spain is now besieging Montalban. He's beaten back the Duke's strong force, and chased his sons inside the walls. "The whole domain now lies in ruin, for they have robbed and burned it all. I saw it happen, and I ride~to ask King Charles to furnish aid." That messenger declined to wait; he spoke, and then he rode away. -- Fierce Ferra'u now grew enraged because he'd miss out on that siege and brooded on it for some minutes. At last, King Rodomont asked him if he's involved in that affair; If not, then he should let it pass. Ferra'u told him finally that the Spanish king was his own uncle and asked him with great courtesy to shake hands and affirm a peace. He swore to him he'd never seek to love fair Doralice more. "I don't give up our duel from fright, but just to join this latest fight." King Rodomont, who had approved~his boldness and his hardihood, answered him with respectful words, allowing him all that he'd asked. After that, both of them embraced and swore an oath of brotherhood with much love and great friendship -- more~than two men ever showed before. Having sworn that they'd never leave~each other while they were alive, together they began to ride, making their way to Montalban. -- As.they ride, they're seen by Malagi, a wizard, come from Montalban, who rides to get help from King Charles. Malagi quickly stepped aside when he saw those two barons ride and he said to himself, "By God! ~I'd like to know who those two are!" Then entering a nearby wood, he made a circle, took his book,~opened it up, and in.an.instant~Malagi had what he wanted: His demons _filled_ the wood; more than~two hundred rise from every page. Malagi keeps them bridled. He~orders those fiends to draw back and~wait on one side for his command. Then he petitions Scarapino. This Scarapino was a demon~from the Inferno -- and a mean one. He's tiny, but he's gluttonous~and portly, fat with wickedness. In taverns where the wine is best, where whores and gamblers congregate, he lives, in fumes from roasting meat, and plies his trade, which is temptation. Malagi asked, and he supplied~him with the names of those two knights. The wizard then made up his mind to seize them both as prisoners. He called his demons to the field but changed them into steeds and soldiers -- a thousand troops, or so it seemed -- with banners, towering crests, and spears. -- /Ferra'u/ now said "Brother, listen! I've never heard so loud a noise. Truly, this must be Charlemagne and we must show him what we're worth. I'll follow /you/, but for the world~I wouldn't want to run away!" "What? Run away?" said Rodomont, " and is that what you think of me? Without you, all alone, I'd fight~King Charles and _every_ Christian knight -- and all the men in Spain as well! Yea, if _Macon_ were on that plain, and all of hell and paradise, they'd _never_ make *me* run away." Those barons went on in this way,~ saying more of the same. Meanwhile,~Malagi left the forest, never~thinking that either would resist, since such a storm surrounded him -- Those demons raised such screams and yells -- the hard ground shook. Heaven was veiled~by the smoke and steam that they exhaled. -- Draginazzo rides out front, wearing horns as his helmet's crest; He rarely deals with common men, but he holds court among the proud. Though he disdains a shield, he has~a spear, a pennant, club, and sword. He charges at King Rodomont, thrusting his spear right at his forehead. His lance's iron was aflame. It pierced that visor and it singed~both of his eyebrows. Rodomont~is moved by this -- he is amazed! He spurred and yelled, "Just wait one minute! Hold on there, runt! Your face -- it seemed~the devil's when you came near me. I'm sure _that's_ your identity!" Saying these words he swung his sword and his great stroke had so much force, it pierced that fiend a span or more, and Draginazzo felt great pain, although, by blows, he can't be slain. And now the other demons fell~on.the.king with rage that I can't tell. Rodomont's no less bold for this, and don't believe he calls for help. He hits this demon first, then that, and all are sorry that they came. -- The first to flee is Draginazzo, but some stay -- they want Ferra'u, especially a devil with~an iron hook, named Malagriff. With it he grapples money-lenders, leading them anywhere he likes: all men of greed are in his power and cook in the tormenting fire. He grabs the cowls of priests, of friars, for they, too, are his followers. Now he's accosting Ferra'u, but that fine knight defends himself. He strikes hard at that demon -- who~waits for no more, I'm telling you -- and he attacks the others too, but so dense are those demons, they~almost subdue him with their screams. -- Here's one more, named Falsetta, who~has every vice. He tricks and cheats~and his deceptions never cease. This demon battled Ferra'u, and he refused to get too close, but wove around him, vexing him, running, pretending to attack. It's bad to cut too wide a cloth unless you're _sure_ you'll stitch it up. Falsetta /thought/ his skill and feints would keep that cavalier at bay. -- /Rodomont/ came, swung from the side, and had the luck to hit that sprite. His sword's edge fell between the horns @ and split his head right to his chest. The demon screamed and ran away (I cannot tell you where he went), and Rodomont attacked the /few/ who still remained upon the field. They flee with harsh and strident cries, since they are cut, but cannot die. There had been many in the grove,~but hardly any stay; they fly. Malagi keeps them in that field as long as he can with his spell, but he can't stop them in the end: they go down to the damned in hell. -- Seeing that things did not go well, Malagi runs away from here, but fleeing is not any help: Ferra'u tracks him on the plain -- it seems his charger puts on wings -- and, to conclude, he captures him. The pagans bound him to a horse and rode towards Montalban to offer~Malagi to King Marsile Riding, they found the pagan force~of noblemen and numerous troops: Kings, cavaliers, marquis, counts, dukes pitched tents that hid plains, _hills_ from view. -- Ferra'u went to King Marsile and briefly told him, as he kneeled, how he had captured Malagi; while highly praising Rodomont. The king, who loved him like a son, embraced him then for half an hour. He kissed him often. For his love,~he welcomed Rodomont with honor. King Charles will be arriving soon, and there'll be much for all to do. No pagan, though, expects him here: They revel; they're in great good cheer. I'll pause here in my narrative. May God grant heaven -- and joy while.you.live!