Before I tell you of this new grief, sir,
I'll take you to that place (in comfort fine),
Where through the golden sands runs Ganges River;
A sunny mountain rises there, so high
It seems to lift the sky upon its shoulder.
Upon the mountain's top, a temple lies,
  where, at the end of each span of five years,
  All the immortal sorc'resses meet here.

Between hard Scythia and the softer Indies,
This mountain climbs, to border on the sky.
Its peak so high above the others rises,
That all its neighbors it leaves far behind.
Here, among monstous crags and precipices,
The loneliest, emptiest spot that you could find,
  A temple rises, fair, and of such worth,
  The Sun has seen no greater on this earth.

A hundred cubits reach up from the ground
To the first cornice, so I have been told.
Another hundred cubits one looks down
When one has reached the cupola of gold.
The temple is ten times as big around,
If he who measured it has not been fooled
  A gleaming crystal, which with pure light shone,
  Enclosed all of the temple 'neath its dome.

It has one hundred faces, equal-sized,
As many corners, placed with equal space
Between them; at each one two columns rise
To hold them up.  Their capitals and bases
Are made of that rich metal, the most prized
Of all.  And what is more, in every place is
  A shine emerging from inset gem-fires;
  Of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires.

The other ornaments in their arrays
You may imagine, though my writing lack.
There Demogorgon, ruler of the Fays,
Who gives great power, and who takes it back,
According with their customs and their ways,
Once each five years (the time must be exact)
  Summons the sorceresses to convene
  The council, coming from the world's extremes.

Here they all argue, listen, and debate
What good or ill to each one has occurred,
And if some harm or insult was their fate,
Advice and comfort quickly are bestirred.
Dissent's resolved before it grows to hate,
Amends are made for wrongs.  And so they gird
  Themselves against all harms; they stand united
  Against the outside world, and ne'er affrighted.

And when the year and day have both arrived
That their quinquennial council should meet,
Then from the west and from the east they hie,
Both from the northern and the southern seas.
Without a ship, through misty air they fly,
No oxen yoked, and bridling no steed,
  Disdaining that they should, in any sort,
  Use ordinary means for their transport.

A few have ships; but these are made of glass,
And fearsome devils tug them through the clouds.
Behind these ships, one hundred devils pass
Making, with bellows, breezes fast and loud.
Others ride devils, just like Simon Magus
When he contested with St. Peter, proud,
  Though he was killed therefore.  And the wind brings
  Some who, like Daedalus, made their own wings.

Some ride in litters that are made of gold,
And some of silver, some of gems were formed,
Carried by demons that they had controlled,
That troop that's wont to disappear at dawn,
Each one as black as if in tar-pit rolled,
They've tails and horns and cloven feet, deformed.
  Griffins and bizzare birds and pegasi
  Carry some other chariots through the sky.

These whom we now call 'sorc'resses' or 'fays',
In ancient days by fairer names were known:
'Nymphs', 'goddesses' they were held in those days.
Adorned with precious gems and gold they've flown
To be the first to Council, and each prays
That in her beautiful appearance shown,
  Her rich baggage, her handsome retinue
  She'll outstrip all that the others can do.

Only Morgana did not come in haste,
As in the past she had, nor well-adorned.
Discussion already was underway,
When finally, disheveled and forlorn,
Her hair undone, scattered in disarray,
Squalid, neglected, she arrived that morn; 
  And on her back the same clothes she still wore
  As when Orlando'd chased and captured her.

Now to the council, mournfully she bows,
Then sits herself down at the lowest place.
She gazes down with deeply furrowed brows,
And not a word she says.  At this display
The council sits amazed, without a sound.
Alcina speaks, after a long delay;
  She looked around at the amazed throng,
  And then she, with these words, unloosed her tongue:

"By the presumption of a human's force,
This fay is bound by oath, and she cannot
Without breaking that oath have a recourse
To us to ask for vengeance, not a jot,
Despite the shame which she has felt, and worse.
Therefore, I say that it would be a blot
  Upon our honor, if we do not do that
  Which she can neither do nor even ask it.

"I need not tell you how, so many times,
Orlando has offended Morgana,
It shames us all that he commits these crimes,
And boasts of them are heard both near and far.
For her dead dragon now Morgana pines,
And for the magic bulls he slew in war,
  More recently he greatly wounded her
  By taking from her Gigliant, her lover.

"Perhaps you hadn't heard all the details,
Or if you have, some others here have not.
I've heard the reason that Morgana wails;
I visited her castle when the brute,
Orlando had just been there, and the tales
Her maids told (she unknowing) told the plot.
  I'll now tell you the tale so you'll assist her,
  The more so, as I'm both her friend and sister.

"It's best now that I make myself more clear:
Orlando, when he'd captured my dear sister,
Humiliating her, he made her swear,
And by an oath so potent, that all of her
Cunning won't suffice to make her dare
to break it, that no harm would ever
  Come to him from her; she'll not forsake it,
  Duress is not excuse enough to break it.

"The wrong done her is not just hers alone;
On every sorceress the shame doth fall.
Yet even if it were, we still should join
Together to inflict revenge on all
Who would in any way afflict just one
Of us, let's share Morgana's quarrel
  Although her mouth denies such a request,
  Consider what within her heart is wished.

"If we this injury should tolerate,
Not only would we show our cowardice,
But also, thereby, we would denigrate
That majesty which is our strength.  And this
Allows those culprits to attack our state,
Or do much worse, much greater things than this.  
  Now we, in vengeance 'gainst this great offence,
  Will find as well our own safest defence."

Alcina went on, urging all the Fays,
And all of them she very soon persuaded.
I would be sitting here for many days
Were I to recount everything she said.
I will not say, against that lady's praise,
That she sought not to bring Morgana aid,
  But I will say that her own self-interest
  Was what now moved her most within her breast.

Alcina bore a burden on her heart;
The Paladin Ruggiero'd fled from her.
First love, then hate, the one, the other part,
Each alternately were her tormenters.
To raise this openly, she couldn't start,
Because her ills had been caused by another
  Sorceress, fair Logistilla,
  Who was not only rival, but her sister.

She could not now complain of this outrage,
Because, when they are gathered in this place,
The Sorceresses keep off of the stage
All quarrels that between themselves they face.
Alcina told, instead, Morgana's rage,
Seeking to gain revenge for her disgrace;
  She knows that if she stokes her sister's fires,
  She satisfies as well her own desires.

She argued that because Morgana's shame
Was universally among them all,
A blot to all their majesty and fame,
That universal, too, should be their brawl:
Orlando shouldn't solely take the blame,
But all beneath the eagle's wing should fall.
  She thus makes her proposals, schemes, and plans,
  So Ruggier may fall back into her hands.

She knew Ruggiero'd turned to Christian faith,
And now was one of Charles' Paladins.
If he had still retained his Pagan ways,
She might have easily recovered him;
But now he's armored with the shield of Faith,
Her tempting, without outside aid, can't win.
  Her strength alone is not enough to rend him
  She knows his newfound faith will well defend him.

Because of this she burns with savage loathing,
With stubborn hatred, rage, bitter disdain,
Wishing to to bring destruction to each king
And all the Western folk, and Charlemagne.
Their goodness seems to her designed to bring
Frustration to her plans.  In her great pain,
  She has no hope to overwhelm Ruggier,
  Unless she first brings down the Emperor.

She hates King Charles, she hates Orlando too,
His nephew, and another tower of strength.
As long as he's supported by these two,
Ruggiero may keep all her spells at length.
When Alcina'd said all that she had set out to,
The Fays hear more complaints against the French.
  Now Falerina wept for her slain dragon,
  Killed by Orlando when he'd wrecked her garden.

And after Falerina's cries for blood
And vengeance for her pitiable loss,
Then Dragontina stepped forth, and she said
What she had suffered, to infinite cost;
How to her house the Duke Astolfo rode,
And carried off the captives she'd amassed
  With others of that cursed Frankish band,
  Leaving her holding nothing in her hand.

Then Aquilinia, and Silvanella,
And the twin fays, who're named "The Black and White",
Montana next, and after, Grifonella,
Each one complaining of their awful plight.
So many there speak out I cannot tell you
All of their names, upon the left and right.
  They cry out now against Sir Oliver,
  Rinaldo, and the Danish prince Ogier,

Against Dudon, and against Brandimart
(back when he was alive upon the field),
And against Charles himself, and every part
of his folk who've insulted them with steel,
Breaking their spells and tearing them apart,
Though Nature and Heaven had been wont to yield.
  Of every hundred Fays, there's scarce one found
  Who hasn't got a harsh complaint to sound.

And those who've had, themselves, no private fray,
Still feel the weight which now the others bends.
Each one declares that she, in every way,
Will view as hers, the troubles of her friend.
They were unwilling that any should say
Their cunning was unable too defend
  Against the strength and prideful arrogance
  Of all the knights and Paladins of France.

And so they all (excepting she whose oath,
Prevents her from exerting any harm,
Morgana is the one I mean in truth,
Against Orlando in any subtle form),
Each sorceress betwixt north pole and south,
Each one whom the wind cools or the sun warms,
  Approved Alcina's plan unanimously,
  And wished it to begin without delay.

When Demogorgon, who was a wise prince,
Had heard all that the Council did complain,
He said, "Since general is the offence,
A general vendetta I proclaim:
Let Charles, Orlando, and the line of France
be wiped forever out, and let remain
  No sign or trace, or any man who could
  Declare with certainty 'Here Paris stood.'"

As often done in ancient days of Rome
And other countries, when the state's alarmed,
Giving all power to one man alone,
A dictator, to keep them safe from harm,
So now Alcina's lifted to the throne,
Asked to plan all their stratagems and storms;
  Each sorceress stands ready to assist,
  To give whatever aid she may request.

Like one who at a festive marketplace
Is slow to make decision where to spend
His money, and at first can see no grace
In any merchandice, but he will wend
All over that fair; till he finds a place
That has a lot of what he seeks in hand;
  And handling now on this, now on that side,
  Takes up a hundred, yet cannot decide;

Puts down this one, and that, then takes again
The one which he put down before, denied,
But then moves on to something new, a change
Of mind, there'll be yet more ere he'll decide:
So Alcina deliberately took pains,
Considering deep schemes on every side;
  She runs a hundred paths within her mind,
  Yet still her halting place she cannot find.

After her many turns, at last she stops,
Deciding Envy would now serve her best
To make the mighty Western empire drop
Off earth, as oft the sun does in the west.
She thinks that no one's heart deserves the chops
Of Envy, nor will be more to her taste,
  Yes, she will do best to feed herself upon
  The innards of that traitor, Ganelon.

At one time Ganelon was a great lord,
In Charles' favor, he could have no peer,
But later bold Orlando fought the horde
Of Africans and Spaniards without fear,
Astolfo, too, and Montalbano's lord,
All seeming now to hurl him down from there;
  Whence Ganelon, who had become all swollen
  With smoke and wind, believed his joy was stolen.

Proud, angry, and malicious, he hates them,
And wishes all who now please king Charles dead.
He could not bear to see a man ascend
To prominence at court without his aid.
He knew so well how to appear a friend,
With humble voice, and smiling, thus he made
  Hypocrisies of all sorts.  Therefore they
  Who do not understand this, to him pray.

Thus, when he found himself with Charles, alone,
(For in the past, they often thus would speak)
He, like a worm, would secretly dig in,
And rain down blows upon some person's back.
So rarely would the truth be heard from him,
So well diguised, he outdid every Greek.
  Alcina judged his heart, so full of vice,
  To be a morsel Envy would find nice.

Amid the Himalayan mounts so high,
Amid the creeping ice, the endless snow,
Seeming to hold up with their backs the sky,
There opens a ravine, both dark and low.
Thence, through a cave whose dreadful maw gapes wide
A path leads to Infernal flames below.
  This is one of seven gates that lead
  The way into the Country of the Dead.

These seven are the principal entrances
Through which bad spirits go straight down to Hell;
Others exist, as Tenarus and Avernus,
But these are narrow, twisted, hard to travel.
This one, which cruel Envy liked to use,
Was frequented often, and the path marked well;
  And so, into these horrid depths now drops
  Alcina, without using any ropes.

She travels down the terrifying cellar,
and taking her staff, beats with heavy strokes
Upon the wooden, iron-banded door,
Decayed with rust and full of woodworm's marks.
Envy, who was just then about her dinner,
Feeding upon a poisonous horned snake,
  Hearing these knocking blows so loudly peal,
  Lifted her mouth up from this bitter meal.

Without delay she sends a minister,
One of the hundred who attend her there,
Who when he sees Alcina at the door,
Returns at once, the news of her to bear.
Envy now lazily begins to stir,
And come towards her, leaving the dead air;
  A Sorceress's name inspires awe
  Even among the shadow world below.

And when she sees Alcina's fine array
Of gay embroidery, of silk and gold,
(For she dressed always in such finery
Allowing none to see her unadorned),
With a dark glance, and full of misery
Envy endures a woefulness untold;
  The sighs now issuing from her sad breast,
  To her most grieving state can well attest.

Her face is very pale, lean, afflicted,
Withered and raspy, ugly to the eye;
Her eyes are crossed, she never is affected
By joyful laughter, but only by sighs,
Unless she hears of someone interdicted,
Or exiled, tortured, or condemned to die
  (It seems that nothing else gives her delight);
  Her teeth are long, and twisted, black as night.

"O Queen of Kings," Alcina thus commenced,
"And likewise, Empress of all emperors,
O mistress of each still-unconquered prince,
You who subdued the Persians with your fears,
Who brought low Greek and Roman arrogance;
Your glory on the earth still has no peers,
  Nor could another to your heights aspire,
  If you would now bring low the French Empire.

"That vile race, which fled from burning Troy,
Until they reached the marshes of the Don,
Where they then caused their neighbors such annoy,
They were harrassed in turn, until they'd gone;
In conflict with the Romans they'd no joy,
And they were pushed, still westward, further on.
  Along the Rhenish banks, short time they stayed,
  Then entered France, with cunning, tricky, ways.

"There, helping first one man, and then another,
Encouraging them 'mongst themselves to fight,
And then, allying now with a third brother,
They drove out all who ruled there by right.
Eventually Pepin gathered all the power,
And took the king's title, as well as might.
  Now Charlemagne, old Pepin's son, doth reign,
  And he counts all of Europe his domain.

"Can you abide that they, so many times
being driven out, by those folk and by these,
Being forced to flee in haste from many climes,
And never lasting very long in peace,
Can you abide that they, despite their crimes,
May govern soon all regions of the West,
  From India, to the furthest Moorish claim,
  The earth and sea should tremble at their name?

God has for mortal grandeur drawn a line,
A limit to achievements bold and proud;
Which, if they passed it, they would seem divine,
Not Heaven nor Nature could that allow;
If one should reach that limit, he'll decline.
If you look well, King Charles has reached it now.
  By bringing down King Charles' haughty throne,
  Your former glory greater still shall grow."

With many more good reasons, she went on, 
Convincing Envy she must do this deed.
She'd have a potent tool in Ganelon,
A man who could, in lies and treachery,
Outdo all others.  Moreover, a bond
Of obligation, very strong indeed,
  Within Alcina thus would be created,
  Which nothing less than death could have abated.

To Alcina's length speech, Envy replied,
In briefest terms, she'd undertake this goal.
She has a hundred ministers by her side,
Each one has perfect knowledge of his role;
They work their wiles upon a mortal's pride,
Each trying to tempt his immortal soul.
  Some goad good lords, and others, common brethren,
  This one corrupts old men, that, guilty children.

There is one for lovers, one for courtiers,
Another makes the monks and abbots long.
For ladies, so many are brought to bear,
To count them all were tediously long.
Envy looked at them all, before her glare
Each one of them, for this great task seems wrong;
  At length deciding that that the only one
  To do this mission is herself, alone.
    
Taking selected poison snakes with her,
She hurried on to France without delay,
Planning arrival at that very hour
When dawn begins to herald the new day,
The time when dreams less fabulous appear,
And oftentimes the truth are heard to say;
  Just then, with new ideas and new form,
  She went into the dreams of Ganelon.

Bringing with her dreams of fantastic shape,
Envy appeared to dreaming Ganelon,
And now, she makes him see, in a large place,
The Christian populace, together drawn.
Their joyful eyes are all fixed on the face
Of Orlando, and Rinaldo Montalban,
  Who on a cart of gold rode into town,
  Triumphantly, wearing the laurel crown.

All of the nobles of the Clairmont house
Now rode beside these two on fine white steeds;
Ganelon sees the laurels on their brows,
Their rich array, spoils of the enemy;
He hears the eager voices of the crowd,
Praising and blessing them and all their deeds;
  Even the day their lineage came into being,
  To make so mighty Charlemagne the King.

And then the people turn to do outrage
To Ganelon himself, and to his face
They insult him, and say that never courage
Was found in any member of his race;
They mock and laugh at all his lineage,
With jeers and blows they pelt him, in disgrace;
  He seems to see and hear that Clairmont's fame
  Increases as Maganza's sinks in shame.

During this vision, Envy grips his heart  
With hands colder than snow, yet blows such fire
Into him, that his breast nigh splits apart;
It neither can nor should hold any more.  
Into his breast, her worst snake now she darts,
Another one she places in his ear,
  The third within his eyes; thus pain he bears
  In all he thinks, in all he sees and hears.

The Sun was already above the wind
When Ganelon awakened from this scene,
Feeling, where Envy touched her icy hand,
Himself now wracked with torment all too keen.
His vision is engraved upon his mind
Nor does he think it was an empty dream;
  It seems to him that God has let him see
  Not false illusions, but what soon will be.

From that time on, the wretched Ganelon
Knew neither rest, nor ever any peace;
His heart's corroded by the hidden poison,
So night and day he sighs, without surcease.
It seems to him, King Charles to everyone
Most generously gives rewards and ease;  
  But, save for the gift he gives each fighing man,
  Is stingy with the House of Maganzan.

Returning now from many fine pavilions,
Into Paris returns the royal court.
Charles sees to it that all princes, all barons,
All noble foreign guests of every sort,
Are gifted with fine presents, every one,
And are accompanied outside the gate.
  Now having round him the world's boldest knights,
  Th'Emperor in his merry state delights.

As the wise father of a family,
At evening supper, after chores are done,
With happiness give workers all their pay,
Distributing his due to every one;
So, now the fires of war have gone away,
Which Spain and Africa had erst begun,
  To all his lords and knights he gives reward
  For bold deeds and what, in arms, each man suffered.

To some he gave fine necklaces of gold,
or silver vases, or a precious jewel;
He gives a town, he gives a castle hold;
And no religious order and no temple,
No chapel, college, hamlet, or cotswold
But got some gift from Charlemagne as well.
  All regions greatly damaged due to war
  He freed from taxes for a decade more.
  
Rinaldo gained the rule of Gascony,
And several thousand francs in pension got.
To Oliver were gifted castles three,
Near Burgundy, his clan's ancestral seat.
Astolfo got Bologne in Picardy.
Do not think that his nephew is forgot;
  He gives Orlando, that most noble Count,
  The rule of Flanders, Bruges, and of Ghent,

He also says the scepter and the crown,
After Marsilio has been driven out,
He'll give both of Navarre and Aragon;
This enterprise he soon must be about.
The lady Bradamante of Dordogne
A gift that's separate from her brother's got:
  Those places she oft governed under Charles,
  He gives her freely, both Marseilles and Arles.

In sum, each great and virtuous strong knight
Got castle, city, or a country house.
Thousands of francs have now been set aside
Both for Ruggier and for his sib, Marfise.
If I attempted all those gifts to write,
I'd still be making entries, without cease;
  No man was able to leave Charles' presence
  Without receiving at his hand some presents.

The gifts were free, no talk of fiefs or lease,
They put no obligations on the owner;
And thus, no failure of an annual fee
Or undone ritual of investiture
Could stop, when the receiver had deceased,
Inheritance by his right son or heir.
  These gifts were many, each one free and true,
  Well worthy of a king worthy to rule.

Above all others, so it seemed, the Clairmont
House received, of royal gifts, the best;
Thus Ganelon, the cruel Maganzan Count,
And all his clan feel envy in their breast.
The honors which upon the others mount
Make Ganelon feel butt of mock and jest;
  This draws him on to hate, from thence to passion,
  From passion, then, he comes at last to treason.

Since he was full of loathing and of pain,
His deep resentment barely he concealed,
Nor kept from Charles his glances of disdain,
To keep his inner thoughts all unrevealed;
In order, now, to carry out a plan
That long within his heart had been congealed,
  He swore he'd journey to the Holy land,
  And see the mountain where the Cross did stand.
  
This pilgrimage will cloak his true purpose;
He seeks a meeting with Egypt's Caliph
And with the King of Syria, to discuss
With them a plan, among surroundings safe:
How they might seize the land where, among us
In flesh God walked, till he was killed in grief;
  Either by force, or else some cunning plan,
  To take this holy place from Christian men.

From there to Araby he goes, to stir
Those people to descend on Africa,
Attacking Charles' holding, while but poor
Their garrison remains, for Charles is far.
Already, he'd arranged that Desidere,
The Lombard King, upon the Pope should war;
  Bohemia, 'gainst France would then embark,
  Whilst England was assaulted by Denmark.

Spanish Marsilio would fall upon
Provence and Aigues-Mortes, nor would he bate
His force before he got to Montalbon
In Gascony, attacking all that state.
Ganelon swore that Basel, Mainz, Cologne,
Konstanz, and Aachen (which was the most great)
  Would all rebel against King Charles' rule;
  A dozen cities he would lose, the fool.

Ganelon has a galley well prepared,
equipped with soldiers, food and weaponry.
He took his leave of Charles and on he fared
Leaving safe harbor for the windy sea.
The shore was left behind, and it appeared
to fly from them, till no coast could they see.
  Then, on the left, the Alps to heaven rose,
  In vain dividing Italy from her foes.

They reach the mountains of Liguria,
And rest within a grove of orange trees,
Beside a sweet and swiftly-flowing river;
There to get water, and to take their ease.
One evening, as they headed for the shore
(Exactly where, I don't know), a strong breeze
  Came from the hills to blow them from the strand
  Until they were quite far away from land.

This wind, though more than breeze, is less than gale,
Yet blows them, in great terror and distress,
Off of their course for six days without fail,
Until, at last, the windy gusts grow less.
Drawn by the wind's force, not by their own will,
Their ship was grounded at an unknown place
  Where, just about a mile from where they stood,
  There rose some palm trees in an ancient wood.

The wood is split in two by a small rill
Of water, cool and playful; on each side
Grow flowers, which on banks their petals spill,
And spread the sweetest scent both far and wide.
Beyond the wood, there was a little hill,
Almost a circle, with a gentle rise.
  The hill's summit so easily is won,
  You'd reach the top ere you had scarce begun.

That hill was topped with an ingenious
Arrangement of tall, scented cedar trees.
Their lovely shade so much of the sun blocks
That noon-time heat is conquered by the breeze.
Along the top, there winds a wall of bronze,
Most rich with carvings, paintings too, one sees.
  A lordly palace, one both high and great,
  This outside wall would seem to indicate.

By nature, eager to behold new sights,
And driven, also, by a pressing need
(For they had eaten all their biscuits up),
Ganelon went along the shady wood,
With some of his companions.  He delights
In hearing now the song of every bird,
  Singing from where they stand upon the rushes,
  Or on the dewy branch of nearby bushes.

As soon as he departed from the sea,
And could be witnessed from the higher ground,
From that high house he hears strange harmony
Reaching to shore, a sweet and pleasant sound.
He has not gone far, before he can see
A band of ladies; squires too were found,
  And horses, riderless, each one controlled,
  Caparisoned with silk, and some with gold.

With courtesies and with fair invitations,
Ganelon and his folk are asked to ride.
Now, two by two, they reach their destination,
Each cavalier with lady at his side.
Not gold as much as Croesus, nor invention
Vitruvius had, nor skill Bramante plied
  To equal that great palace in their prime,
  Not if they'd had two hundred years of time.

The Sorceress Gloricia had it built,
By demons, and all in a single night.
It's based upon a plan by Vulcan, skilled;
A palace which was ruined in the fight
When Isle of Lemnos from the earth was pulled
And hurled skyward by the giants' might,
  Along with Delos, and with Cyprus too;
  Against the gods, three islands proved too few.

Gloricia maintains a splendid court,
One equal to Alcina's lofty station;
Nor was this Fay beneath her, by report,
In learning, or in skill at incantation.
Her character was of a different sort:
She finds, in harming others, no elation;
  Rather, she joys in hospitality,
  and welcomes guests with every courtesy.

She always keeps a lookout standing guard,
At ports and crossroads everywhere, to see,
So that all travelers who come toward
Her land may feel her generosity.
Both poor and rich are welcomed with reward,
And richly kept, because in this way she
  Intends with love and courtesy to bind
  The travellers' hearts in ties that won't unwind.

Because she, by her custom, gave good cheer
And honor to all who pass by her wood,
She welcomed Ganelon when he came near,
With all her power, as much as she could.
The more so, as she knew that he came here,
That traitor, since Alcina thought he should.
  She understood and fully realised,
  Alcina, his arrival had devised.

She'd been at the great Council just before,
Where they'd decided to exterminate
All warriors who their loyalty swore
To Pepin's son, and none will 'scape this fate
Save Ganelon; a helpful councilor
They deem he'll be against the Frankish state.
 And so, the gracious greetings others find,
 For Ganelon are doubled, in like kind.

Gloricia has her men seize Ganelon 
That night, while he is sleeping with a snore,
With his companions and his squires, each one,
And tightly bound in shackles, too, for
So Alcina said that matters should be done,
She wants this crew sent eastward, to her door.
  She doesn't often treat her guests this way,
  But wants to 'favor' Ganelon today.

Although more shame than honor here resides,
In capturing a guest, you must agree,
Especially for Gloricia, who prides
Herself upon her hospitality,
She does not think this action so derides
Her reputation.  One may often see
  Examples of thieves robbed. traitors betrayed,
  Murderers killed, and these are sometimes praised.

So while Ganelon slumbered, sleeping sound,
He and his retinue were all dragged out.
In chains and solid, heavy stocks they're bound;
Thirty Maganzans, chained and fearful fraught.
Gloricia now drew upon the ground
A large and spacious ship, well fitted out.
  She has the prisoners all placed within,
  While one of her maids stands guard over them.

The fay lets down her hair and, here and there,
Whirls around three times and more, until
The ship begins to rise up in the air,
No drawing now, miraculous, it's real!
Her maidservant sets loose the sails which were
Created by the same incanted spell.
  Towards the heavens now the ship arose,
  as over water, normal shipping goes.

Now Ganelon and his friends see the ground
Retreat beneath their feet; they fly through air;
No explanation why they have been bound
Like murderers, they all tremble in fear.
They marvel, stupefied, that they have found
themselves in such a pass, for it is clear
  This wondrous air-ship, sleek and long and narrow,
  Speeds through the air faster than any arrow.

Some people saw their ship pass overhead,
And kept their gazes fixed upon the sky,
Their eyebrows raised; and there were fools indeed
Who when they saw them pass, two miles high,
Too far to see who was inside, yet said
Whatever they imagined they could spy:
  Varied and strange opinions they present
  As to what this strange vision represents.

Some men believed that they saw Charon's boat,
The helmsman of the damned above them is,
And with a cargo-hold that's full of ghosts
He now made his approach to Hell's abyss.
Others opine that it's the holy boat
That towards Heaven always spreads it's sails
  Which Peter had removed from Rome, lest she
  Be sunk on waves of rape and simony.

And others still, some other things believe,
As different from the truth as could be known.
Meanwhile the flying craft went on at speed
Through regions that are largely still unknown,
Twixt India and land of Tartary,
The former lush, the latter bare as bone,
  Until, after they'd traveled many a mile,
  At last they reached Alcina's lovely isle.

The damsel steered the ship and captive men
To fair Alcina's city, and she set
Them softly by the palace, in a garden,
Then to a servant told why she was sent.
Alcina had the sorry Maganzans
Placed, still in stocks, into a dungeon crypt
  Hid from the sun.  For her help with these pranks,
  She sent Gloricia unbounded thanks.

She had Ganelon brought to her that night,
And started to discuss with him affairs
Of France and Rome, and also two great knights,
Orlando and Ruggiero, how they fare.
The Count, a man who is astute in sight,
Sees clearly her great rage against those peers,
  And so, his own disaster to prevent,
  He took the course which seemed expedient.

"Lady," he said, "If you hate everyone
 In Charles' court, then you hate me as well,
 For from that court and royal line I come
 Since ancient times; I can't deny the tale.
 But if you hate, instead, his companions,
 His friends who follow him of their own will,
   You won't hate me; I love him not at all,
   But hunger more than you do for his fall.

"If ever any man longed to avenge
 The outrage of a tyrant, I am he.
 More than all others, I long for revenge
 Against Charles and all of his family.
 He disregards my family for his friends,
 And give to them our well-deserved prestige.
   Placing a dagger at my very eye,
   He lifts my enemies up to the sky.

"My stepson Orlando, who wants me dead,
 And think of nothing else, a thousand ways
 he's given power to; Orlando's led
 Charles to wrath against me as many ways
 Astolfo and Rinaldo, promoted
 With all their friends I see in recent days;
   The power that these cavaliers possess
   Puts me in danger, in my very house.

"And now, to bring me even greater shame,
 A fugitive from the African flight,
 Ruggiero, who with his own hands has slain
 My brother and my nephew in a fight,
 Achieves a greater honor and a fame
 Than Mars did in the ancient Romans sight;
   And so I and my kin have all now fled,
   Fearing that, if we stay, we'll be struck dead.

"If you hold me inside a dungeon dark
 With all my people, or if you strike dead
 We who the flower of Maganza are,
 The Empire you'll have freed from endless dread:
 For any enemy of theirs in war
 Who by Maganzan treachery is led
   Will easily invade; our friends are found
   in every fortress, castle, harbor town."

And he continued speaking with great malice
And cunning, saying what he understands
To bring her most delight: that he will give
Orlando and Ruggiero to her hands.
Alcina listens carefully; she's pleased
To see him bound in Envy's poison bands
  The chains of iron, weaker far indeed,
  She has undone, and orders his men freed.

She wanted Ganelon to swear an oath
With words that would bind even such a cur,
That he would never stop, until he'd both
Orlando and Ruggiero brought to her.
To help him now, Alcina is not loath,
With heaps of jewels, gems, of gold and silver;
  Not worldly wealth alone now gives the maid,
  With spells as well she gives Ganelon aid.

She gives to Ganelon a magic ring,
And within the ring's stone, there has been trapped
A little water spirit, who will bring
Assistance to the traitor that's most apt.
Vertumnus is his name; he doesn't cling
To one shape only, but his shape is wrapped
  In skin of man or woman, beast or bird,
  a plant, a rock, ere you could say one word.

In order that the wizard Malagigi
(Rinaldo's cousin) not give the knights aid,
Alcina silenced all the imps of sea,
Of Earth, and Air and Fire; they obeyed.
A few alone she kept with their tongues free,
For they in very ancient times were made,
  And spoke no Latin, French, nor any other
  Tongue a necromancer could discover.

That which the traitor had promised the Fay,
His kinsmen all now swore to her as well.
The pact agreed, they went back to the bay
And boarded once again that magic shell.
The waves, as ordered, now begin to sway,
As she commands the Indian wind to swell;
  Such was Alcina's mastery of weather,
  The ship flies through the air, just like a feather.

Ganelon's carried swift and silently;
Returning home the magic ship did wheel.
In seven hours, he had, happily,
Arrived at his own ship (this one was real).
It's reprovisioned with wine, bread, and meat,
Even fresh salad, for that evening's meal.
  He orders that they sail at once; their course
  Towards Alexandria, Egyptian port.

Having already gained himself a pass
of safe conduct from the Royal Emir,
he went to Cairo with two men, dressed as
Egyptian men, in all that foreign gear.
When the Caliph realized who he was -
They'd written to each other oft before -
  He showered him with such honor, largesse,
  Ganelon thought his heart would burst from breast.

Meanwhile, while hidden Envy secretly
Did gnaw upon the heart of Ganelon,
As he gnawed others joy most greedily,
So much, one might compare him to a worm,
Alcina was tormented no less; she
By anger, love, and by disdain is torn:
  She wants to see King Charles quickly slain:
  Any delay now brings her grievous pain.

Ganelon had informed her that, ere he
Departed had from the fair land of France,
He'd written to the King of Lombardy,
Desiderius, urging him to advance,
Joined with the Germans and with Hungary,
Thus to invade the eastern lands of France.
  He'd make attack, too, Unoldo of Aquitaine,
  And with him, King Marsilio of Spain.

King Desiderius had given hope,
But had been slow to make his armies ride.
Perhaps he feared King Charles, perhaps the rope
Which bound his allies seemed but poorly tied.
Alcina wants to make him move his troop
Against the Empire, just to sate her pride.
  She wants to see King Charles in a deep mess,
  And so she plots with all her cleverness.

She'll need a spur sharper than any nail,
To make this lazy Lombard move at last,
Who to Alcina seems just like a snail,
He is the very opposite of fast!
As Ganelon had been urged without fail
To treachery by Envy, that foul beast,
  She hopes to find another such monster,
  To urge this idle King at last to stir.

And in the end, most suitable she deemed
To prod and shake him back onto the path
One who was born at the same time, it seemed,
As Cruelty and Rapine, and as Wrath.
The name and the appearance of this fiend
I'll save until the Canto after this,
  Where I will, as much as I am able to,
  Have you hear things both marvelous and true.


C
A
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O

II

No better thing in all the world you'll see
Than a Lord who's good and noble in all ways;
Who does not shirk the burden of his duty
Although beneath such weight he bends and sways;
Who cares for all the people in his see
As fathers do their children, all their days;
  Who for their children toil with all their might,
  While for themselves, their labor is but slight.

He should face danger