"I ask not with this boasted sphinx to speak,

(He stern replied); my errand is to seek

A youth, late reft from his unhappy sire,

Whose liberty I at your hands require."

"Your tale (the giant cried) is boldly told;- 135

The pris'ner you describe in bonds I hold;

From my firm grasp 'twere difficult, I deem,

To wrest a captive-but if you esteem

Your arm sufficient, lo! I dare its might."—

The knight sprung forward, and commenc'd the fight.

Hard was the strife-but fortune justly gave

The vict❜ry to the gen'rous and the brave.

The furious monster, wounded and o'ercome,

Fell on the field, and yielded to his doom,

141

While great Orlando broke the captive's chain, 145

And prov'd his promise was not made in vain.

To th' aged mourner was the youth restor❜d,

By the strong arm of Brava's potent lord:

But who could paint the rapture and surprise

That warm'd the father's breast, and fill'd his eyes?

No words his grateful feelings can impart,

Or speak th' emotions of his swelling heart.

151

Their thanks receiv'd, the knight re-took the road

To that dread spot where the volcano stood,

To seek the sphinx, and force her to disclose
Where dwelt the beauteous cause of all his woes;

That fair unknown, who led him thus to rove,

The victim of an unregarded love ;

155

While that great cause that erst engross'd his breast,

No longer was remember'd or confest.

No surly guard the passage now defends,
And unmolested he his footsteps bends,

160

E'en to the rock's large base, though flames appear,

And frequent sounds appalling din, his ear.

High 'mid the clouds it rear'd its head sublime 165

Nor could he hope the dread ascent to climb;

For, smoothly polish'd on all sides, in vain

Were all attempts its eminence to gain.—

At length a darksome cavern he espied,
Cut in the rock, and winding in its side

170

Rude steps were hewn.-This path he quick essay'd,

In hope it to the sphinx's haunt might lead:

Fatigue, and ev'ry hardship, he disdain'd,

And, spite of the obscurity that reign'd,

Thro' toil and danger he emerg'd to light,

175

And lo! the monster stood reveal'd to sight.

"Oh! thou, (he cried) whose skill can all discern,

To thee I come, my fair one's name to learn :

Disclose, then, on what favour'd spot of earth

She now sojourns-her country, and her birth." 180

And know, should you in just responses fail,
Nor arms shall save you, nor defensive mail;
For headlong from this dizzy height I'll cast
Your mangled form, to wither in the blast."

190

And now a deep enigma she propos'd,

The most complex her malice e'er disclos'd.—

In vain the knight its dubious meaning sought,
And quick the sphinx discern'd his puzzled thought ;
Her shouts exultant fill'd the echoing air-

She spread her wings, and soar'd to overbear

195

Her victim-but his sword Durandin sped,

And while the monster flutter'd o'er his head,
He lopt one pinion, Obstinate the foe

Fought fierce, nor would her destin'd prey forego,

Till, weaken'd by repeated wounds, she fell,
And bade to light and life a long farewell.

Though hardly prest in this tremendous fight,

With arm untir'd, and heart elate, the knight

Precipitates the monster's huge remains

Down the steep rock, and soon the plain regains.

201

205

Ye energies of an immortal mind,

For greatest, wisest purposes design'd,

How are you wasted by unthinking man

209

In vain pursuits!-Wide from the gracious plan,

That bids those pow'rs, when rightly understood,
Conduce to private bliss, and gen'ral good.