a tangled skein of three lines of incident and adventure -the war of Charlemagne, Orlando's madness, and the loves of Bradamant and Ruggiero or Rogero.

ORLANDO FURIOSO.

Of loves and ladies, knights and arms, I sing,
Of courtiers and many a daring feat ;
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.

Charlemagne's arrangement as to her disposal was one in which Angelica had no sympathy, and therefore, when the Christian army was defeated in one of the battles of the war, she took the opportunity of making her escape on horseback into a forest. To this she is pursued by a number of her suitors, amongst whom are Ferrau and the now detested Rinaldo, who fight for her possession; but while the duel is proceeding, Angelica again takes flight.

Through dreary woods and dark the damsel fled,
By rude unharboured heath and savage height,

While every leaf or spray that rustled, bred

(Of oak, or elm, or beech) such new affright,

She here and there her foaming palfrey sped

By strange and crooked paths with furious flight;

And at each shadow, seen in valley blind,

Or mountain, fearing Rinaldo was behind.

As a young roe or fawn of fallow-deer,

Who 'mid the shelter of its native glade,
Has seen a hungry pard or tiger tear

The bosom of its bleeding dam, dismayed,
Bounds through the forest green in ceaseless fear
Of the destroying beast, from shade to shade,
And at each sapling touched, amid its pangs,
Believes itself between the monster's fangs.

In a deep glen she meets with another of her lovers, Sacripant, king of Circassia, who has come from the far East in search of her, and to his protection she resigns herself a charge which is joyfully accepted, but his ecstasy is soon interrupted by the appearance of a knight

The stranger's mantle was of snowy white,
And white alike the waving plume he wore-

who at once attacks and overthrows the Circassian, and then rides off. This white knight is revealed to be Bradamant setting off on her journey in search of her lover Ruggiero. The Circassian is hardly quit of this intruder when Rinaldo makes his appearance and con

tends with him for Angelica, who as usual takes flight whilst the rivals are engaged.

Her more than life esteems the youthful knight,

While she from him, like crane from falcon, flies.
Time was the lady sighed, her passion slighted;
'Tis now Rinaldo loves, as ill requited.

And this effect two different fountains wrought,
Whose wondrous waters different moods inspire.
Both spring in Arden, with rare virtue fraught :
This fills the heart with amorous desire :
Who taste that other fountain are untaught
Their love, and change for ice their former fire.
Rinaldo drank the first, and vainly sighs;
Angelica the last, and hates and flies.

She next finds refuge with a pretended hermit, who is in reality a magician, and he sends a messenger by Angelica's desire to the two knights, telling them that Orlando, whilst they were fighting, had carried her off to Paris. Rinaldo is deceived by the story and proceeds to the capital, whence he is immediately sent by Charlemagne to England to implore help against the pagans. Of his many adventures in the island of Britain we may briefly relate one episode—the story of Ginevra.

Leav

The voyage of Rinaldo is unfortunate, for a storm drives his ship to the rugged shores of Scotland. ing the vessel at the port of Berwick, the knight wanders

away through the Caledonian Forest, seeking out some adventurous exploit, and for this he has not long to wait. The Duke of Albany, pretending to be in love with a waiting-maid of the Princess Ginevra, but in reality anxious to win the hand of the princess herself, has contrived a scheme of revenge against her for preferring the love of Ariodante, an Italian knight, to his. The duke persuades the waiting-maid to assume the dress and jewels of Ginevra, and appear so attired on a balcony near to her chamber, at the same time lowering a ladder of ropes for the duke to ascend with. The duke took measures to induce Ariodante and his brother Lurcanio to be in a position to witness the scene, and the Italian was so grieved at what appeared to be the unfaithfulness of the princess that he immediately disappeared from the court, and it was shortly after rumoured that he had drowned himself in despair. When this news reached the court, Ariodante's brother Lurcanio publicly denounced Ginevra, who was then, according to the laws of Scotland, sentenced to death for her supposed crime, unless Lurcanio is defeated by her unknown lover and champion in the lists, for the duke had not been recognised on the balcony-a month's grace being granted to the unfortunate Ginevra to seek out a champion to

defend her asserted innocence. Albany's scheme of revenge, however, has been revealed to Rinaldo by the waiting-maid, whom the paladin has rescued from two of the duke's men as they were conveying her through the defiles of the Caledonian Forest, with the evident purpose of killing her in order to preserve the secret of the duke's complicity in the scene on the balcony. Lurcanio is in the lists, and an unknown champion in black armour has appeared on behalf of Ginevra: this knight afterwards turns out to be Ariodante, who is not dead as reported, but is willing to sacrifice his own life, and that even of his brother, rather than that Ginevra should suffer. The combat is just commencing between these two, when Rinaldo rushes into the presence of the king, reveals the perfidy of the Duke of Albany, and requests liberty to challenge the traitor. Short work is made of the combat:

Rinaldo spurred the knight to meet,

And levelled at his evil foeman's breast,
Eager to finish at a single heat.

Nor counter to his wish was the event;
Since through the warrior half his weapon went.

Him, through the breast, impaled upon the spear,
More than six yards beyond his horse he bore.
With speed alighted Mount Albano's peer,

And, ere he rose, unlaced the helm he wore :