He carefully the glittering casque unlac'd, Which on his head, till then unarm'd, he brac'd. Then, faithful to his promise, he convey'd 311 The pale remains, and near the fountain's head A spot of depth sufficient he espied, Just where a whirlpool drank the passing tide.— He plung'd the corse, which instant sank, (so great The close investing armour's pond'rous weight) 316 In dull seclusion to remain forgot, Nor fear'd that chance should tell the hapless spot. So end the glories of this mortal span, The hopes-the labours-and the pride of man. 320 The brave, the mighty, vanish from our sight, And blank oblivion veils them deep in night. This melancholy duty duly paid, The Saracen, by sad reflection stay'd, Stood fix'd and mute-revolving in his mind 325 The turns of life-more changeful than the wind But soon these salutary thoughts are o'er ; On human ills he meditates no more; His bosom glows again-new conquest fires His busy hope, and every wish inspires. In minds untutor'd, insolent and vain. At length Angelica's contemptuous flight Struck on the recollection of the knight; Quick springing on his steed, he urg'd his pace, With utmost speed the fugitive to trace; For well he mark'd the course she had pursued, 330 336 To gain th' intricate mazes of the wood. Of all the Eastern train that menaced late The Christian weal and th' establish'd state, 340 Not one remain'd-so potent is the force Of heav'nly justice, in its awful course.- Dull silence rules the hour-the victor flies, And chain'd by ruthless death, the vanquish'd lies; Astolpho only now remains to tell The wond'rous incidents which all befell. The knight, when from his giant guardians freed, Without obstruction might have left the mead; But such the gen'rous int'rest that arose 345 Within his breast, though all to him were foes, 350 That, bent to see the issue of the fight, Nor liberty he sought, nor thought of flight. The combat o'er, and sympathy in vain, 'Twas ineffectual longer to remain ; Again he shines in splendid arms array'd, 355 He hastes to join him, and by hunger stay'd, Or recollection of his master sway'd, The lofty courser on the spot remains, 360 His plaited cuirass, and his warlike horse Regain'd, no bar remains to stop his course, Save only one-the inauspicious chance That enviously depriv'd him of his lance, Which, in their strife, with ineffectual stroke, Around he cast his eyes, in hope to view, 365 Amid the trees that in luxuriance grew, 370 Some one, from which a branch he might obtain, And hew to form.-Nor was his search in vain ; For while he eager sought, lo! stately reared Against a pine, the golden lance appear'd, And glitter'd in the sun, as dazzling bright, As stars that pierce the dusky veil of night. And yielding up his passion in despair, No further wishes to pursue the fair. With heart more tranquil than he bore the day When he from Paris ardent took his way, Again he sought the court, nor far had gone, Until he met Rinaldo hasting on, 375 380 But to th' unfinish'd tale th' impatient knight |