LXXII I do not think Bireno ever viewed Naked that beauteous form; for sure it were He never could have been so stern of mood, As to have left her on that desert lair. That Ireland's king was fired I well conclude, Nor hid the flame that he within him bare. He strives to comfort her, and hope instill, That future good shall end her present ill. LXXIII And her to Holland promises to bear, And vows till she is to her state restored, And just and memorable vengeance there Achieved upon her perjured, traitor lord, He never will unceasing war forbear, Waged with all means that Ireland can afford; And this with all his speed. He, up and down, Meantime bids seek for female vest and gown. LXXIV Now will it need to send in search of vest Beyond the savage island's narrow bound, Since thither every day in such came dressed, Some dame, to feed the beast, from countries round. Nor long his followers there pursued the quest, Ere many they of various fashions found. So was Olympia clothed; while sad of mood Was he, not so to clothe her as he wou'd. LXXV But never silk so choice or gold so fine Did the industrious Florentine prepare, Nor whosoever broiders gay design, Though on his task be spent time, toil, and care, Nor Lemnos' god, nor Pallas' art divine, Form raiment worthy of those limbs so fair, That King Oberto cannot choose but he Recalls them at each turn to memory. LXXVI To see that love so kindled by the dame, On many grounds Orlando was content; Who not alone rejoiced that such a shame Put upon her, Bireno should repent; But, that in the design on which he came, He should be freed from grave impediment. Not for Olympia thither had he made, But, were his lady there, to lend her aid. LXXVII To him, that there she was not, soon was clear, But clear it was not if she had been there, Or no; since of those islesmen, far and near, One was not left the tidings to declare. The following day they from the haven steer, And all united in one squadron fare. The Paladin with them to Ireland hies, From whence to France the warrior's passage lies. LXXVIII Scarcely a day in Ireland's realm he spends: And for no prayers his purposed end forbore: Love, that in quest of his liege-lady sends The knight upon this track, permits no more. Departing, he Olympia recommends To the Irish monarch, who to serve her swore: Although this needed not; since he was bent More than behoved, her wishes to content: LXXIX So levied in few days his warlike band, And (league with England's kind and Scotland's made) In Holland and in Friesland left no land To the false duke, so rapid was the raid. And to rebel against that lord's command His Zealand stirred; nor he the war delayed, Until by him Bireno's blood was spilt: A punishment that ill atoned his guilt.