XXXVI Urged by the passion lodged in every breast, A restless curiosity to know Of others' cares, the gentle maid addressed The knight, and sought the occasion of his woe. And he to her his secret grief confessed, Won by her gentle speech and courteous show, And by that gallant bearing, which at sight, Prepared who saw her for nimble knight. XXXVII "Fair sir, a band of horse and foot," he said, "I brought to Charlemagne; and thither pressed, Where he an ambush for Marsilius spread, Descending from the Pyrenean crest; And in my company a damsel led, Whose charms with fervid love had fired my breast. When, as we journey by Rhone's current, I A rider on a winged courser spy. XXXVIII "The robber, whether he were man or shade, Or goblin damned to everlasting woe, As soon as he beheld my dear-loved maid, Like falcon, who, descending, aims its blow, Sank in a thought and rose; and soaring, laid Hands on his prize, and snatched her from below. So quick the rape, that all appeared a dream, Until I heard in air the damsel's scream. XXXIX "The ravening kite so swoops and plunders, when Hovering above the shelterd yard, she spies A helpless chicken near unwatchful hen, Who vainly dins the thief with after cries. I cannot reach the mountain-robber's den, Compassed with cliffs, or follow one who flies. Besides, way-foundered is my weary steed, Who 'mid these rocks has wasted wind and speed. XL "But I, like one who from his bleeding side Would liefer far have seen his heart out-torn, Left my good squadrons masterless, to ride Along the cliffs, and passes least forlorn; And took the way (love served me for a guide) Where it appeared the ruthless thief had born, Ascending to his den, the lovely prey, What time he snatched my hope and peace away. XLI "Six days I rode, from morn to setting sun, By horrid cliff, by bottom dark and drear; And giddy precipice, where path was none, Nor sign, nor vestiges of man were near. At last a dark and barren vale I won, Where caverned mountains and rude cliffs appear; Where in the middle rose a rugged block, With a fair castle planted on the rock. XLII "From far it shone like flame, and seemed not dight Of marble or of brick; and in my eye More wonderful the work, more fair to sight The walls appeared, as I approached more nigh. I, after, learned that it was built by sprite Whom potent fumes had raised and sorcery: Who on this rock its towers of steel did fix, Case-hardened in the stream and fire of Styx. XLIII "Each polished turret shines with such a ray That it defies the mouldering rust and rain: The robber scours the country night and day, And after harbours in this sure domain. Nothing is safe which he would bear away; Pursued with curses and with threats in vain. There (fruitless every hope to foil his art) The felon keeps my love, oh! say my heart.