LXXXIX By day it had been hidden evermore; But the clear flame betrayed the haunt by night. Its use he guessed; but would the place explore, And better certify himself by sight. When he without had tied his Brigliador, In silence to the grotto stole the knight; Threading the shrubs; nor calling for a guide, Entered the passage in the mountain's side. XC By a long flight of steps was the descent Into the cave; where, in the rocky tomb, Buried were living folk. Of wide extent, The grot was chiselled into vaulted room; Nor was, although its entrance little lent, All daylight wanting to disperse the gloom: For much was furnished by a window dight, Within a natural fissure on the right. XCI In the mid cave, beside a fire was seen A gentle maid of pleasing look and guise; Who seemed to Roland little past fifteen, As far as at first sight he might surmise. With that so fair she made the rugged scene Seem in the warrior's sight a paradise. Although this while her eyes with tears o'erflow, Clear tokens of a heart oppressed with woe. XCII An aged dame was with her, and the pair Wrangled, as oftentimes is women's way; But when the County was descending there, Concluded the dispute and wordy fray. Orlando hastens to salute them fair (As still is due to womankind) and they To welcome him rise lightly form their seat, And with benign return the warrior greet. XCIII 'Tis true, that when that sudden voice they hear, Somedeal confused in look they seem to be, At the same time beholding thus appear So fierce a wight, and harnessed cap-a-pee. "What wight" (demands Anglantes' cavalier) So barbarous is, and void of courtesy, That he keeps buried, in this rude repair, A face so gentle and so passing fair?" XCIV With pain the virgin to the count replies, As he inquires of her unhappy doom, In sweet and broken accents, which by sighs Impelled, through rows of pearl and coral come: And between rose and lily, from her eyes Tears fall so fast, she needs must swallow some. In other canto, sir, be pleased to attend The rest, for here 'tis time my strain should end. CANTO 13 ARGUMENT The Count Orlando of the damsel bland Who loves Zerbino, hears the piteous woes. Next puts to death the felons with his hand Who pent her there. Duke Aymon's daughter goes, Seeking Rogero, where so large a band The old Atlantes' magic walls enclose. Her he impounds, deceived by fictions new. Agramant ranks his army for review. I Those ancient cavaliers right happy were, Born in an age, when, in the gloomy wood, In valley, and in cave, wherein the bear, Serpent, or lion, hid their savage brood, They could find that, which now in palace rare Is hardly found by judges proved and good; Women, to wit, who in their freshest days Of beauty worthily deserve the praise.