ARGUMENT 
Restored to sense, the beauteous Bradamant 
Finds sage Melissa in the vaulted tomb, 
And hears from her of many a famous plant 
And warrior, who shall issue from her womb. 
Next, to release Rogero from the haunt 
Of old Atlantes, learns how from the groom, 
Brunello hight, his virtuous ring to take; 
And thus the knight's and others' fetters break. 


 I 
Who will vouchsafe me voice that shall ascend 
As high as I would raise my noble theme? 
Who will afford befitting words, and lend 
Wings to my verse, to soar the pitch I scheme? 
Since fiercer fire for such illustrious end, 
Than what was wont, may well my song beseem. 
For this fair portion to my lord is due 
Which sings the sires from whom his lineage grew. 

 II 
Than whose fair line, 'mid those by heavenly grace 
Chosen to minister this earth below, 
You see not, Phoebus, in your daily race, 
One that in peace or war doth fairer show; 
Nor lineage that hath longer kept its place; 
And still shall keep it, if the lights which glow 
Within me, but aright inspire my soul, 
While the blue heaven shall turn about the pole. 

 III 
But should I seek at full its worth to blaze, 
Not mine were needful, but that noble lyre 
Which sounded at your touch the thunderer's praise, 
What time the giants sank in penal fire. 
Yet should you instruments, more fit to raise 
The votive work, bestow, as I desire, 
All labour and all thought will I combine, 
To shape and shadow forth the great design. 

 IV 
Till when, this chisel may suffice to scale 
The stone, and give my lines a right direction; 
And haply future study may avail, 
To bring the stubborn labour to perfection. 
Return we now to him, to whom the mail 
Of hawberk, shield, and helm, were small protection: 
I speak of Pinabel the Maganzeze, 
Who hopes the damsel's death, whose fall he sees. 

 V 
The wily traitor thought that damsel sweet 
Had perished on the darksome cavern's floor, 
And with pale visages hurried his retreat 
From that, through him contaminated door. 
And, thence returning, clomb into his seat: 
Then, like one who a wicked spirit bore, 
To add another sin to evil deed, 
Bore off with him the warlike virgin's steed. 

 VI 
Leave we sometime the wretch who, while he layed 
Snares for another, wrought his proper doom; 
And turn we to the damsel he betrayed, 
Who had nigh found at once her death and tomb. 
She, after rising from the rock, dismayed 
At her shrewd fall, and gazing through the gloom, 
Beheld and passed that inner door, which gave 
Entrance to other and more spacious cave. 

 VII 
For the first cavern in a second ended, 
Fashioned in form of church, and large and square; 
With roof by cunning architect extended 
On shafts of alabaster rich and rare. 
The flame of a clear-burning lamp ascended 
Before the central altar; and the glare, 
Illuminating all the space about, 
Shone through the gate, and lit the cave without. 

 VIII 
Touched with the sanctifying thoughts which wait 
On worthy spirit in a holy place, 
She prays with eager lips, and heart elate, 
To the Disposer of all earthly grace: 
And, kneeling, hears a secret wicket grate 
In the opposing wall; whence, face to face, 
A woman issuing forth, the maid addresses, 
Barefoot, ungirt, and with dishevelled tresses. 

 IX 
"O generous Bradamant," the matron cried, 
"Know thine arrival in this hallowed hold 
Was not unauthorized of heavenly guide: 
And the prophetic ghost of Merlin told, 
Thou to this cave shouldst come by path untried, 
Which covers the renowned magician's mould. 
And here have I long time awaited thee, 
To tell what is the heavens' pronounced decree. 

 X 
"This is the ancient memorable cave 
Which Merlin, that enchanter sage, did make: 
Thou may'st have heard how that magician brave 
Was cheated by the Lady of the Lake. 
Below, beneath the cavern, is the grave 
Which holds his bones; where, for that lady's sake, 
His limbs (for such her will) the wizard spread. 
Living he laid him there, and lies there dead. 

 XI 
"Yet lives the spirit of immortal strain; 
Lodged in the enchanter's corpse, till to the skies 
The trumpet call it, or to endless pain, 
As it with dove or raven's wing shall rise. 
Yet lives the voice, and thou shalt hear how plain 
From its sepulchral case of marble cries: 
Since this has still the past and future taught 
To every wight that has its counsel sought. 

 XII 
"Long days have passed since I from distant land 
My course did to this cemetery steer, 
That in the solemn mysteries I scanned, 
Merlin to me the truth should better clear; 
And having compassed the design I planned, 
A month beyond, for thee,