( 699) 
REMARKS ON THE MORGANTE MAGGIORE OF LUIGI PULCT, 
(Concluded from page 442 of this Volume.) 
FEW more friends and followers 
had now joined the little band of 
warriors, Avino, Avolio, Duke Richard, 
Feibard, and the three Anjolins ; and 
the ambassador was scarcely depart- 
ed before the out-posts of the enemy 
were visible from the hills round Ronces- 
valles. Orlando is still slow to suspect 
treason; but Guottibofhi, a Burgundian, 
and one of his band of officers, foresees 
the gathering mischief, and takes mea- 
sures to fortify their little camp. The 
night passed away sad and sorrowfully 
to all. Oliver was warned, by a terrible 
dream, of the approaching tempest. 
Even Orlando felt presages of his fate, 
but scorned to betray any symptoms of 
alarm. Early in the morning Oliver as- 
cended a hill, and from thence beheld the 
whole host of Marsilius advancing in bat- 
tle-array, and the countless standards of 
the nations that composed it. He called 
Orlando to join him, and that renowned 
hero soon surveyed the dismal spectacle 
with hisown eyes. He then looked back 
upon Roncesvalles, and, weeping for his 
ill-fated companions, exclaimed, “ Oh, 
sad and sorrowful valley ! This day shall 
be for ever noted with blood.” 
After this, no farther possibility of de- 
lusion remained for them. Even a re- 
treat was impossible; and not a soul, 
there but would have shunned to enter- 
tain a thought of submission. The most 
vigorous preparations were made for the 
bloody sacrifice, which alone remained 
for them to offerup; and Orlando went 
about to all of them, one by one, encou- 
raging and exhorting them singly to die 
for the honour of Christianity as gal- 
lantly and nobly as they had lived. 
The confused shout of arms proclaimed 
the enemy at hand; and the melancholy 
sound of the trumpets blowed that day 
in Roncesvalles, might be compared to 
the trump that is to call the dead to their 
last judgment, All the Paladins assem- 
bled at the sound, and Orlando wept 
aloud when he beheld so many victims 
to their affection for him. Oliver spoke 
to him with tenderness and affection, but 
could not help expressing his regret that 
he had not before listened to the many 
warning voices that had foretold to him 
the treachery of Marsilius, to which Ort 
lando made no answer, but shewed his 
contrition by his silence; and then, in a 
Joud and encouraging voice, thus ha- 
rangued hisJittle army of brothers :— 
“* Could I have thought that in the human 
heart 
Such hellish treason could a lodging find, 
I would have played a soldier’s better part, 
Not thus, untimely, to my fate resigned, 
But force opposed to force, and art to art. 
For here L came, to peace and love in- 
clin’d, 
And thought, that love, which in my bosom 
burn’d © : 
For all mankind, with equal love return’d, 
*¢ Yet the deceiver shall himself deceive, 
On his own head the dreadful thunder call ; 
While ye, who in eternal truth believe, 
Sure of approving heav’n, shall nobly falls 
Soon shall ye all rejoice, tho’ now ye grieve, 
Celestial manna shall succeed to gall; 
If now your bread is mix’d with tears and 
sighs. : 
Your souls this night shall feast in Paradise. 
“So to his Greeks the generous Spartan 
said 5 
Whose promises were far less sure than - 
mine. 
Hope, only hope, inspir’d tiem when they 
bled 5 
Your hope is faith, your promises divine! 
See on his grate the martyr’d Lawrence 
spread ; 
Ev’nin the flames his eyes with transport 
shine, ~ 
And shew how sweet athing ic is to die 
When the blest soul is rapt and fixed on 
high. 
«¢ And now, while little life is yet your own, 
All feariess mingle in the bloody fray ! 
Now, Paladins, be all your prowess shewn ; 
So shall your bodies only die this day. 
Now let the fathers by their sons be known, 
And cast delusive, fruitless, hope away ! 
Fight not for life—-caught in this fatal snare, 
Our hope is death, our remedy, despair. 
“¢ And yet it grieves me, noble Charles, for 
thee; 
That, after such hizh fame, thy noble head 
Isdoom’d, so sad, so dark, a change to see, 
Thine honours blasted, and thy glory fled! 
But ah! no human state ‘rom change is free, 
Whole empires hang upon aslender thread 5 
And often fate, at Heay’n’s appointed hour, 
Exalts the meek, and blasts the proud man’s 
pow’r, 
** Also this faithful bosom bleeds for thee, 
My brother, my Rinaldo! Once again 
Might I that much lov’d form in battle see, 
Proud in the field, and dreadful o’er the 
slain! 
Ev’n while I speak, strange visions come to 
me, ATE 
Disorder’d phantoms crowd upon my brain; 
I feel, I know, that with this mortal eye 
I yet shall view Rinaldo ere I die. 
“6 1 fear 
