Ludovico Ariosto

Here you will find the Long Poem Orlando Furioso Canto 1 of poet Ludovico Ariosto

Orlando Furioso Canto 1


Angelica, whom pressing danger frights, 
Flies in disorder through the greenwood shade. 
Rinaldo's horse escapes: he, following, fights 
Ferrau, the Spaniard, in a forest glade. 
A second oath the haughty paynim plights, 
And keeps it better than the first he made. 
King Sacripant regains his long-lost treasure; 
But good Rinaldo mars his promised pleasure. 

And from those ancient days my story bring, 
When Moors from Afric passed in hostile fleet, 
And ravaged France, with Agramant their king, 
Flushed with his youthful rage and furious heat, 
Who on king Charles', the Roman emperor's head 
Had vowed due vengeance for Troyano dead. 

In the same strain of Roland will I tell 
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme, 
On whom strange madness and rank fury fell, 
A man esteemed so wise in former time; 
If she, who to like cruel pass has well 
Nigh brought my feeble wit which fain would climb 
And hourly wastes my sense, concede me skill 
And strength my daring promise to fulfil. 

Good seed of Hercules, give ear and deign, 
Thou that this age's grace and splendour art, 
Hippolitus, to smile upon his pain 
Who tenders what he has with humble heart. 
For though all hope to quit the score were vain, 
My pen and pages may pay the debt in part; 
Then, with no jealous eye my offering scan, 
Nor scorn my gifts who give thee all I can. 

And me, amid the worthiest shalt thou hear, 
Whom I with fitting praise prepare to grace, 
Record the good Rogero, valiant peer, 
The ancient root of thine illustrious race. 
Of him, if thou wilt lend a willing ear, 
The worth and warlike feats I shall retrace; 
So thou thy graver cares some little time 
Postponing, lend thy leisure to my rhyme. 

Roland, who long the lady of Catay, 
Angelica, had loved, and with his brand 
Raised countless trophies to that damsel gay, 
In India, Median, and Tartarian land, 
Westward with her had measured back his way; 
Where, nigh the Pyrenees, with many a band 
Of Germany and France, King Charlemagne 
Had camped his faithful host upon the plain. 

To make King Agramant, for penance, smite 
His cheek, and rash Marsilius rue the hour; 
This, when all trained with lance and sword to fight, 
He led from Africa to swell his power; 
That other when he pushed, in fell despite, 
Against the realm of France Spain's martial flower. 
'Twas thus Orlando came where Charles was tented 
In evil hour, and soon the deed repented. 

For here was seized his dame of peerless charms, 
(How often human judgment wanders wide)! 
Whom in long warfare he had kept from harms, 
From western climes to eastern shores her guide 
In his own land, 'mid friends and kindred arms, 
Now without contest severed from his side. 
Fearing the mischief kindled by her eyes, 
From him the prudent emperor reft the prize. 

For bold Orlando and his cousin, free 
Rinaldo, late contended for the maid, 
Enamored of that beauty rare; since she 
Alike the glowing breast of either swayed. 
But Charles, who little liked such rivalry, 
And drew an omen thence of feebler aid, 
To abate the cause of quarrel, seized the fair, 
And placed her in Bavarian Namus' care. 

Vowing with her the warrior to content, 
Who in that conflict, on that fatal day, 
With his good hand most gainful succour lent, 
And slew most paynims in the martial fray. 
But counter to his hopes the battle went, 
And his thinned squadrons fled in disarray; 
Namus, with other Christian captains taken, 
And his pavilion in the rout forsaken. 

There, lodged by Charles, that gentle bonnibel, 
Ordained to be the valiant victor's meed, 
Before the event had sprung into her sell, 
And from the combat turned in time of need; 
Presaging wisely Fortune would rebel 
That fatal day against the Christian creed: 
And, entering a thick wood, discovered near, 
In a close path, a horseless cavalier. 

With shield upon his arm, in knightly wise, 
Belted and mailed, his helmet on his head; 
The knight more lightly through the forest hies 
Than half-clothed churl to win the cloth of red. 
But not from cruel snake more swiftly flies 
The timid shepherdess, with startled tread, 
Than poor Angelica the bridle turns 
When she the approaching knight on foot discerns. 

This was that Paladin, good Aymon's seed, 
Who Mount Albano had in his command; 
And late Baiardo lost, his gallant steed, 
Escaped by strange adventure from his hand. 
As soon as seen, the maid who rode at speed 
The warrior knew, and, while ye