| ¡¡ |
|

 |
·Î°Ô·Î-ºê¶ó´Ù¸¸Æ®
(Rogero and
Bradamante) |

 |
| ¡¡ |
 |
BULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY
LEGENDS OF
CHARLEMAGNE
OR ROMANCE OF
THE MIDDLE AGES
by Thomas Bulfinch |
 |
|
CHAPTER XVII
ROGERO AND
BRADAMANTE
AFTER the interruption of the combat with Rinaldo, as
we have related, Rogero was perplexed with doubts what
course to take. The terms of the treaty required him to
abandon Agramant, who had broken it, and to transfer his
allegiance to Charlemagne; and his love for Bradamante
called him in the same direction; but unwillingness to
desert his prince and leader in the hour of distress
forbade this course. Embarking, therefore, for Africa, he
took his way to rejoin the Saracen army; but was arrested
midway by a storm which drove the vessel on a rock. The
crew took to their boat, but that was quickly swamped in
the waves, and Rogero with the rest were compelled to swim
for their lives. Then while buffeting the waves Rogero
bethought him of his sin in so long delaying his Christian
profession, and vowed in his heart that, if he should live
to reach the land, he would no longer delay to be
baptized. His vows were heard and answered; he succeeded
in reaching the shore, and was aided and relieved on
landing by a pious hermit, whose cell overlooked the sea.
From him he received baptism, having first passed some
days with him, partaking his humble fare, and receiving
instruction in the doctrines of the Christian faith.
While these things were going on, Rinaldo, who had set
out on his way to seek Gradasso and recover Bayard from
him, hearing, on his way of the great things which were
doing in Africa, repaired thither to bear his part in
them. He arrived too late to do more than join his friends
in lamenting the loss of Florismart, and to rejoice with
them in their victory over the Pagan knights. On the death
of their king, the Africans gave up the contest, Biserta
submitted, and the Christian knights had only to dismiss
their forces, and return home. Astolpho took leave of his
Abyssinian army, and sent them back laden with spoil to
their own country, not forgetting to entrust to them the
bag which held the winds, by means of which they were
enabled to cross the sandy desert again without danger,
and did not untie it till they reached their own country.
Orlando now, with Oliver, who much needed the surgeon's
care, and Sobrino, to whom equal attention was shown,
sailed in a swift vessel to Sicily, bearing with him the
body of Florismart, to be laid in Christian earth. Rinaldo
accompanied them, as did Sansonnet and the other Christian
leaders. Arrived at Sicily, the funeral was solemnized
with all the rites of religion, and with the profound
grief of those who had known Florismart, or had heard of
his fame. Then they resumed their course, steering for
Marseilles. But Oliver's wound grew worse instead of
better, and his sufferings so distressed his friends that
they conferred together, not knowing what to do. Then said
the pilot, "We are not far from an isle, where a holy
hermit dwells alone in the midst of the sea. It is said
none seek his counsel or his aid in vain. He hath wrought
marvellous cures, and if you resort to that holy man,
without doubt he can heal the knight." Orlando bade
him steer thither, and soon the bark was laid safely
beside the lonely rock; the wounded man was lowered into
their boat, and carried by the crew to the hermit's cell.
It was the same hermit with whom Rogero had taken refuge
after his shipwreck, by whom he had been baptized, and
with whom he was now staying, absorbed in sacred studies
and meditations.
The holy man received Orlando and the rest with kindness,
and inquired their errand; and being told that they had
come for help for one who, warring for the Christian
faith, was brought to perilous pass by a sad wound, he
straightway undertook the cure. His applications were
simple, but they were seconded by his prayers. The paladin
was soon relieved from pain, and in a few days his foot
was perfectly restored to soundness. Sobrino, as soon as
he perceived the holy monk perform that wonder, cast aside
his false prophet, and with contrite heart owned the true
God, and demanded baptism at his hands. The hermit granted
his request, and also by his prayers restored him to
health, while all the Christian knights rejoiced in his
conversion almost as much as at the restoration of Oliver.
More than all, Rogero felt joy and gratitude, and daily
grew in grace and faith.
Rogero was known by fame to all the Christian knights,
but not even Rinaldo knew him by sight, though he had
proved his prowess in combat. Sobrino made him known to
them, and great was the joy of all when they found one
whose valor and courtesy were renowned through the world
no longer an enemy and unbeliever, but a convert and
champion of the true faith. All press about the knight;
one grasps his hand, another locks him fast in his
embrace; but more than all the rest, Rinaldo cherished
him, for he more than any knew his worth.
It was not long before Rogero confided to his friend
the hopes he entertained of a union with his sister, and
Rinaldo frankly gave his sanction to the proposal. But
causes unknown to the paladin were at that very time
interposing obstacles to its success.
The fame of the beauty and worth of Bradamante had
reached the ears of the Grecian Emperor Constantine, and
he had sent to Charlemagne to demand the hand of his niece
for Leo, his son, and the heir to his dominions. Duke
Aymon, her father, had only reserved his consent until he
should first have spoken with his son Rinaldo, now absent.
The warriors now prepared to resume their voyage.
Rogero took a tender farewell of the good hermit who had
taught him the true faith. Orlando restored to him the
horse and arms which were rightly his, not even asserting
his claim to Balisardo, that sword which he himself had
won from the enchantress.
The hermit gave his blessing to the band, and they
re-embarked. The passage was speedy, and very soon they
arrived in the harbor of Marseilles.
Astolpho, when he had dismissed his troops, mounted the
Hippogriff, and at one flight shot over to Sardinia,
thence to Corsica, thence, turning slightly to the left,
hovered over Provence, and alighted in the neighborhood of
Marseilles. There he did what he had been commanded to do
by the holy saint; he unbridled the Hippogriff, and turned
him loose to seek his own retreats, never more to be
galled with saddle or bit. The horn had lost its
marvellous power ever since the visit to the moon.
Astolpho reached Marseilles the very day when Orlando,
Rinaldo, Oliver, Sobrino, and Rogero arrived there.
Charles had already heard the news of the defeat of the
Saracen kings, and all the accompanying events. On
learning the approach of the gallant knights, he sent
forward some of his most illustrious nobles to receive
them, and himself, with the rest of his court, kings,
dukes, and peers, the queen, and a fair and gorgeous band
of ladies, set forward from Arles to meet them.
No sooner were the mutual greetings interchanged, than
Orlando and his friends led forward Rogero, and presented
him to the Emperor. They vouch him son of Rogero, Duke of
Risa, one of the most renowned of Christian warriors, by
adverse fortune stolen in his infancy, and brought up by
Saracens in the false faith, now by a kind Providence
converted, and restored to fill the place his father once
held among the foremost champions of the throne and
Church.
Rogero had alighted from his horse, and stood
respectfully before the Emperor. Charlemagne bade him
remount and ride beside him; and omitted nothing which
might do him honor in sight of his martial train. With
pomp triumphal and with festive cheer the troop returned
to the city; the streets were decorated with garlands, the
houses hung with rich tapestry, and flowers fell like rain
upon the conquering host from the hands of fair dames and
damsels, from every balcony and window. So welcomed, the
mighty Emperor passed on till he reached the royal palace,
where many days he feasted, high in hall, with his lords,
amid tourney, revel, dance, and song.
When Rinaldo told his father, Duke Aymon, how he had
promised his sister to Rogero, his father heard him with
indignation, having set his heart on seeing her united to
the Grecian Emperor's son. The Lady Beatrice, her mother,
also appealed to Bradamante herself to reject a knight who
had neither title nor lands, and give the preference to
one who would make her Empress of the wide Levant. But
Bradamante, though respect forbade her to refuse her
mother's entreaty, would not promise to do what her heart
repelled, and answered only with a sigh, until she was
alone, and then gave a loose to tears.
Meanwhile Rogero, indignant that a stranger should
presume to rob him of his bride, determined to seek the
Prince of Greece, and defy him to mortal combat. With this
design he donned his armor, but exchanged his crest and
emblazonment, and bore instead a white unicorn upon a
crimson field. He chose a trusty squire, and, commanding
him not to address him as Rogero, rode on his quest.
Having crossed the Rhine and the Austrian countries into
Hungary, he followed the course of the Danube till he
reached Belgrade. There he saw the imperial ensigns
spread, and white pavilions, thronged with troops, before
the town. For the Emperor Constantine was laying siege to
the city to recover it from the Bulgarians, who had taken
it from him not long before.
A river flowed between the camp of the Emperor and the
Bulgarians, and at the moment when Rogero approached, a
skirmish had begun between the parties from either camp,
who had approached the stream for the purpose of watering.
The Greeks in that affray were four to one, and drove back
the Bulgarians in precipitate rout. Rogero, seeing this,
and animated only by his hatred of the Grecian prince,
dashed into the middle of the flying mass, calling aloud
on the fugitives to turn.
He encountered first a leader of the Grecian host in
splendid armor, a nephew of the Emperor, as dear to him as
a son. Rogero's lance pierced shield and armor, and
stretched the warrior breathless on the plain. Another and
another fell before him, and astonishment and terror
arrested the advance of the Greeks, while the Bulgarians,
catching courage from the cavalier, rally, change front,
and chase the Grecian troops, who fly in their turn. Leo,
the prince, was at a distance when this sudden skirmish
rose, but not so far but that he could see distinctly,
from an elevated position which he held, how the changed
battle was all the work of one man, and could not choose
but admire the bravery and prowess with which it was done.
He knew by the blazonry displayed that the champion was
not of the Bulgarian army, though he furnished aid to
them. Although he suffered by his valor, the prince could
not wish him ill, for his admiration surpassed his
resentment. By this time the Greeks had regained the
river, and, crossing it by fording or swimming, some made
their escape, leaving many more prisoners in the hands of
the Bulgarians. Rogero, learning from some of the captives
that Leo was at a point some distance down the river, rode
thither with a view to meet him, but arrived not before
the Greek prince had retired beyond the stream, and broken
up the bridge. Day was spent, and Rogero, wearied, looked
round for a shelter for the night. He found it in a
cottage, where he soon yielded himself to repose. It so
happened, a knight who had narrowly escaped Rogero's sword
in the late battle also found shelter in the same cottage,
and, recognizing the armor of the unknown knight, easily
found means of securing him as he slept, and next morning
carried him in chains, and delivered him to the Emperor.
By him he was in turn delivered to his sister Theodora,
mother of the young knight, the first victim of Rogero's
spear. By her he was cast into a dungeon, till her
ingenuity could devise a death sufficiently painful to
satiate her revenge.
Bradamante, meanwhile, to escape her father's and
mother's importunity, had begged a boon of Charlemagne,
which the monarch pledged his royal word to grant; it was
that she should not be compelled to marry any one unless
he should first vanquish her in single combat. The
Emperor, therefore, proclaimed a tournament in these
words: "He that would wed Duke Aymon's daughter must
contend with the sword against that dame, from the sun's
rise to his setting; and if, in that time, he is not
overcome, the lady shall be his."
Duke Aymon and the Lady Beatrice, though much incensed
at the course things had taken, brought their daughter to
court, to await the day appointed for the tournament.
Bradamante, not finding there him whom her heart required,
distressed herself with doubts what could be the cause of
his absence. Of all fancies, the most painful one was that
he had gone away to learn to forget her, knowing her
father's and her mother's opposition to their union, and
despairing to contend against them. But O how much worse
would be the maiden's woe, if it were known to her what
her betrothed was then enduring!
He was plunged in a dungeon where no ray of daylight
ever penetrated, loaded with chains, and scantily supplied
with the coarsest food. No wonder despair took possession
of his heart, and he longed for death as a relief, when
one night (or one day, for both were equally dark to him)
he was roused with the glare of a torch, and saw two men
enter his cell. It was the Prince Leo, with an attendant,
who had come as soon as he had learned the wretched fate
of the brave knight whose valor he had seen and admired on
the field of battle. "Cavalier," said he,
"I am one whom thy valor hath so bound to thee, that
I willingly peril my own safety to lend thee aid."
"Infinite thanks I owe you," replied Rogero,
"and the life you give me I promise faithfully to
render back upon your call, and promptly to stake it at
all times for your service." The prince then told
Rogero his name and rank, at hearing which a tide of
contending emotions almost overwhelmed Rogero. He was set
at liberty, and had his horse and arms restored to him.
Meanwhile, tidings arrived of King Charles's decree
that whoever aspired to the hand of Bradamante must first
encounter her with sword and lance. This news made the
Grecian prince turn pale, for he knew he was no match for
her in fight. Communing with himself, he sees how he may
make his wit supply the place of valor, and employ the
French knight, whose name was still unknown to him, to
fight the battle for him. Rogero heard the proposal with
extreme distress; yet it seemed worse than death to deny
the first request of one to whom he owed his life. Hastily
he gave his assent "to do in all things that which
Leo should command." Afterward, bitter repentance
came over him; yet, rather than confess his change of
mind, death itself would be welcome. Death seems his only
remedy; but how to die? Sometimes he thinks to make none
but a feigned resistance, and allow her sword a ready
access, for never can death come more happily than if her
hand guide the weapon. Yet this will not avail, for,
unless he wins the maid for the Greek prince, his debt
remains unpaid. He had promised to maintain a real, not a
feigned encounter. He will then keep his word, and banish
every thought from his bosom except that which moved him
to maintain his truth.
The young prince, richly attended, set out, and with
him Rogero. They arrived at Paris, but Leo preferred not
to enter the city, and pitched his tents without the
walls, making known his arrival to Charlemagne by an
embassy. The monarch was pleased, and testified his
courtesy by visits and gifts. The prince set forth the
purpose of his coming, and prayed the Emperor to dispatch
his suit,- "to send for the damsel who refused ever
to take in wedlock any lord inferior to herself in fight;
for she should be his bride, or he would perish beneath
her sword."
Rogero passed the night before the day assigned for the
battle like that which the felon spends, condemned to pay
the forfeit of his life on the ensuing day. He chose to
fight with sword only, and on foot, for he would not let
her see Frontino, knowing that she would recognize the
steed. Nor would he use Balisardo, for against that
enchanted blade all armor would be of no avail, and the
sword that he did take he hammered well upon the edge to
abate its sharpness. He wore the surcoat of Prince Leo,
and his shield, emblazoned with a golden, double-headed
eagle. The prince took care to let himself be seen by
none.
Bradamante, meanwhile, prepared herself for the combat
far differently. Instead of blunting the edge of her
falchion, she whets the steel, and would fain infuse into
it her own acerbity. As the moment approached, she seemed
to have fire within her veins, and waited impatiently for
the trumpet's sound. At the signal, she drew her sword,
and fell with fury upon her Rogero. But as a well-built
wall or aged rock stands unmoved by the fury of the storm,
so Rogero, clad in those arms which Trojan Hector once
wore, withstood the strokes which stormed about his head
and breast and flank. Sparks flew from his shield, his
helm, his cuirass; from direct and back strokes, aimed now
high, now low, falling thick and fast, like hailstones on
a cottage roof; but Rogero, with skilful ward, turns them
aside, or receives them where his armor is a sure
protection, careful only to protect himself, and with no
thought of striking in return. Thus the hours passed away,
and, as the sun approached the west, the damsel began to
despair. But so much the more her anger increases, and she
redoubles her efforts, like the craftsman who sees his
work unfinished while the day is wellnigh spent. O
miserable damsel! didst thou know whom thou wouldst kill,-
if, in that cavalier matched against thee thou didst but
know Rogero, on whom thy very life-threads hang, rather
than kill him thou wouldst kill thyself, for he is dearer
to thee than life.
King Charles and the peers, who thought the cavalier to
be the Grecian prince, viewing such force and skill
exhibited, and how without assaulting her the knight
defended himself, were filled with admiration, and
declared the champions well matched, and worthy of each
other.
When the sun was set, Charlemagne gave the signal for
terminating the contest, and Bradamante was awarded to
Prince Leo as a bride. Rogero, in deep distress, returned
to his tent. There Leo unlaced his helmet, and kissed him
on both cheeks. "Henceforth," said he, "do
with me as you please, for you cannot exhaust my
gratitude." Rogero replied little, laid aside the
ensigns he had worn, and resumed the unicorn, then hasted
to withdraw himself from all eyes. When it was midnight he
rose, saddled Frontino, and sallied from his tent, taking
that direction which pleased his steed. All night he rode
absorbed in bitter woe, and called on Death as alone
capable of relieving his sufferings. At last he entered a
forest, and penetrated into its deepest recesses. There he
unharnessed Frontino, and suffered him to wander where he
would. Then he threw himself down on the ground, and
poured forth such bitter wailings that the birds and
beasts, for none else heard him, were moved to pity with
his cries.
Not less was the distress of the lady Bradamante, who,
rather than wed any one but Rogero, resolved to break her
word, and defy kindred, court, and Charlemagne himself;
and, if nothing else would do, to die. But relief came
from an unexpected quarter. Marphisa, sister of Rogero,
was a heroine of warlike prowess equal to Bradamante. She
had been the confidante of their loves, and felt hardly
less distress than themselves at seeing the perils which
threatened their union. "They are already united by
mutual vows," she said, "and in the sight of
Heaven what more is necessary?" Full of this thought
she presented herself before Charlemagne, and declared
that she herself was witness that the maiden had spoken to
Rogero those words which they who marry swear; and that
the compact was so sealed between the pair that they were
no longer free, nor could forsake, the one the other, to
take another spouse. This her assertion she offered to
prove, in single combat, against Prince Leo, or any one
else.
Charlemagne, sadly perplexed at this, commanded
Bradamante to be called, and told her what the bold
Marphisa had declared. Bradamante neither denied nor
confirmed the statement, but hung her head, and kept
silence. Duke Aymon was enraged, and would fain have set
aside the pretended contract on the ground that, if made
at all, it must have been made before Rogero was baptized,
and therefore void. But not so thought Rinaldo, nor the
good Orlando, and Charlemagne knew not which way to
decide, when Marphisa spoke thus:-
"Since no one else can marry the maiden while my
brother lives, let the prince meet Rogero in mortal
combat, and let him who survives take her for his
bride."
This saying pleased the Emperor, and was accepted by
the prince, for he thought that, by the aid of his unknown
champion, he should surely triumph in the fight.
Proclamation was therefore made for Rogero to appear and
defend his suit; and Leo, on his part, caused search to be
made on all sides for the knight of the Unicorn.
Meanwhile Rogero, overwhelmed with despair, lay
stretched on the ground in the forest night and day
without food, courting death. Here he was discovered by
one of Leo's people, who, finding him resist all attempts
to remove him, hastened to his master, who was not far
off, and brought him to the spot. As he approached, he
heard words which convinced him that love was the cause of
the knight's despair; but no clew was given to guide him
to the object of that love. Stooping down, the prince
embraced the weeping warrior, and, in the tenderest
accents, said: "Spare not, I entreat you, to disclose
the cause of your distress, for few such desperate evils
betide mankind as are wholly past cure. It grieves me much
that you would hide your grief from me, for I am bound to
you by ties that nothing can undo. Tell me, then, your
grief, and leave me to try if wealth, art, cunning, force,
or persuasion cannot relieve you. If not, it will be time
enough, after all has been tried in vain, to die."
He spoke in such moving accents, that Rogero could not
choose but yield. It was some time before he could command
utterance; at last he said, "My lord, when you shall
know me for what I am, I doubt not you, like myself, will
be content that I should die. Know, then, I am that Rogero
whom you have so much cause to hate, and who so hated you
that, intent on putting you to death, he went to seek you
at your father's court. This I did because I could not
submit to see my promised bride borne off by you. But, as
man proposes and God disposes, your great courtesy, well
tried in time of sore need, so moved my fixed resolve,
that I not only laid aside the hate I bore, but purposed
to be your friend forever. You then asked of me to win for
you the lady Bradamante, which was all one as to demand of
me my heart and soul. You know whether I served you
faithfully or not. Yours is the lady; possess her in
peace; but ask me not to live to see it. Be content rather
that I die; for vows have passed between myself and her
which forbid that while I live she can lawfully wive with
another."
So filled was gentle Leo with astonishment at these
words, that for a while he stood silent, with lips
unmoved, and steadfast gaze, like a statue. And the
discovery that the stranger was Rogero not only abated not
the good-will he bore him, but increased it, so that his
distress for what Rogero suffered seemed equal to his own.
For this, and because he would appear deservedly an
Emperor's son, and, though in other things outdone, would
not be surpassed in courtesy, he says: "Rogero, had I
known, that day when your matchless valor routed my
troops, that you were Rogero, your virtue would have made
me your own, as then it made me while I knew not my foe,
and I should have no less gladly rescued you from
Theodora's dungeon. And if I would willingly have done so
then, how much more gladly will I now restore the gift of
which you would rob yourself to confer it upon me. The
damsel is more due to you than to me, and though I know
her worth, I would forego not only her, but life itself,
rather than distress a knight like you."
This and much more he said to the same intent; till at
last Rogero replied, "I yield, and am content to
live, and thus a second time owe my life to you."
But several days elapsed before Rogero was so far
restored as to return to the royal residence, where an
embassy had arrived from the Bulgarian princes to seek the
knight of the Unicorn, and tender to him the crown of that
country, in place of their king, fallen in battle.
Thus were things situated when Prince Leo, leading by
the hand Rogero, clad in the battered armor in which he
had sustained the conflict with Bradamante, presented
himself before the king. "Behold," he said,
"the champion who maintained from dawn to setting sun
the arduous contest; be comes to claim the guerdon of the
fight." King Charlemagne, with all his peerage, stood
amazed; for all believed that the Grecian prince himself
had fought with Bradamante. Then stepped forth Marphisa,
and said, "Since Rogero is not here to assert his
rights, I, his sister, undertake his cause, and will
maintain it against whoever shall dare dispute his
claim." She said this with so much anger and disdain,
that the prince deemed it no longer wise to feign, and
withdrew Rogero's helmet from his brow, saying,
"Behold him here!" Who can describe the
astonishment and joy of Marphisa! She ran and threw her
arms about her brother's neck, nor would give way to let
Charlemagne and Rinaldo, Orlando, Dudon, and the rest who
crowded round, embrace him, and press friendly kisses on
his brow. The joyful tidings flew fast by many a messenger
to Bradamante, who in her secret chamber lay lamenting.
The blood that stagnated about her heart flowed at that
notice so fast, that she had wellnigh died for joy. Duke
Aymon and the Lady Beatrice no longer withheld their
consent, and pledged their daughter to the brave Rogero
before all that gallant company.
Now came the Bulgarian ambassadors, and, kneeling at
the feet of Rogero, besought him to return with them to
their country, where, in Adrianople, the crown and sceptre
were awaiting his acceptance. Prince Leo united his
persuasions to theirs, and promised, in his royal father's
name, that peace should be restored on their part. Rogero
gave his consent, and it was surmised that none of the
virtues which shone so conspicuously in him so availed to
recommend Rogero to the Lady Beatrice, as the hearing her
future son-in-law saluted as a sovereign prince.
¡¡ |
|
| ¡¡ |
|
|
¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
¡¡THOMAS BULFINCH
¡¡
|
|
|
|
¡¡ |