Now when the Tartar king, Agrican, heard his antagonist speak in this
manner, and knew him to be indeed Orlando, and to be in love with
Angelica, his face changed color for grief and jealousy, though it
could not be seen for the darkness. His heart began beating with such
violence that he felt as if he should have died. "Well," said he to
Orlando, "we are to fight when it is daylight, and one or other is to
be left here, dead on the ground. I have a proposal to make to
you--nay, an entreaty. My love is so excessive for the same lady that I
beg you to leave her to me. I will owe you my thanks, and give up the
siege and put an end to the war. I cannot bear that any one should love
her, and that I should live to see it. Why, therefore, should either of
us perish? Give her up. Not a soul shall know it."
"I never yet," answered Orlando, "made a promise which I did not keep,
and nevertheless I own to you that, were I to make a promise like that,
and even swear to keep it, I should not. You might as well ask me to
tear away the limbs from my body, and the eyes out of my head. I could
as well live without breath itself as cease loving Angelica."
Agrican had hardly patience to let him finish speaking, ere he leapt
furiously on horseback, though it was midnight. "Quit her," said he,
"or die!"
Orlando seeing the infidel getting up, and not being sure that he would
not add treachery to fierceness, had been hardly less quick in mounting
for the combat. "Never," exclaimed he; "I never could have quitted her
if I would, and now I would not if I could. You must seek her by other
means than these."
Fiercely dashed their horses together, in the nighttime, on the green
mead. Despiteful and terrible were the blows they gave and took by the
moonlight. Agrican fought in a rage, Orlando was cooler. And now the
struggle had lasted more than five hours, and day began to dawn, when
the Tartar king, furious to find so much trouble given him, dealt his
enemy a blow sharp and violent beyond conception. It cut the shield in
two as if it had been made of wood, and, though blood could not be
drawn from Orlando, because he was fated, it shook and bruised him as
if it had started every joint in his body.
His body only, however, not a particle of his soul. So dreadful was the
blow which the paladin gave in return, that not only shield, but every
bit of mail on the body of Agrican was broken in pieces, and three of
his ribs cut asunder.
The Tartar, roaring like a lion, raised his sword with still greater
vehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the paladin's helmet, such
as he had never yet received from mortal man. For a moment it took away
his senses. His sight failed, his ears tingled, his frightened horse
turned about to fly; and he was falling from the saddle, when the very
action of falling threw his head upwards, and thus recalled his
recollection.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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