XLI He after drags them bound without the cave, Where an old service-tree its shadow throws. Orlando lops the branches with his glaive, And hangs the thieves, a banquet for the crows: Nor chain and crook for such a deed did crave: For ready hooks the tree itself bestows, To purge the world; where by the chin up-hung, These, on the branches, bold Orlando strung. XLII The ancient woman, the assassin's friend, Escapes when she perceives that all are dead, And, threading that green labyrinth without end, Laments, and plucks the hair from off her head, By fear impelled, through paths which sore offend Her feet, till she, beside a river's bed, Encounters with a warrior: but to say Who was the stranger champion I delay; XLIII And turn to her, who to the count applied, Praying he would not leave her there alone, And vowed to follow whither he would guide. Orlando her consoles in courteous tone: And thence, when, with a wreath of roses tied About her brows, and robed in purple gown, On wonted journey white Aurora starts, The paladin with Isabel departs. XLIV Without encountering aught that might appear Worthy of note, they wended many a day; And finally the twain a cavalier, As prisoner led, encountered by the way. Who shall be told; but, tale to you as dear Now calls me from the beaten path away; -- Of Aymon's daughter, -- whom I left above, Languid and lost in all the pains of love. XLV The beauteous lady who desires in vain, Rogero should not his return delay, Lies in Marseilles, from whence the paynim train She harasses, nigh each returning day; (What time they robbing aye, by hill and plain, Scower fruitful Languedoc and Provence gay) And the true duty executes aright Of a sage leader and a valiant knight. XLVI The time long past, she, lying in that place, Had hoped that her Rogero would appear, She, not beholding him in all that space, Of many evil chances lived in fear. One day, mid others that her woeful case The lady wept alone, to her drew near The dame, who with that healing ring made sound The bosom rankling with Alcina's wound. XLVII When her she saw, without her love returned, (Such time elapsed, her mission incomplete), Sore trembling, faint, and pale, her heart so yearned, She scarce had strength to stand upon her feet. But the enchantress kind, when she discerned Her fear, advanced with smiles the maid to meet; And to console her such glad visage wore As messenger who joyful tidings bore. XLVIII "Fear not for thy Rogero: he is well And safe (she cried), and ever worships thee, As wonted; but thy foe, that wizard fell, Him yet again deprives of liberty. And it behoves thee now to climb the sell, Would'st thou posses him, and to follow me; For if thou wendest with me, I will lead Whither, by thee Rogero shall be freed."