LII "Up to the starry sphere with swift ascent The wizard soars, then pounces from the sky, And strikes the young Rogero, who, intent Upon Gradasso, deems no danger nigh. Beneath the wizard's blow the warrior bent, Which made some deal his generous courser ply; And when to smite the shifting foe he turned, Him in the sky, and out of reach discerned. LIII "His blows Rogero, now Gradasso, bruise On forehead, bosom, back, or flanks, between; While he the warrior's empty blows eschews, Shifting so quickly that he scarce is seen. Now this, now that, the wizard seems to choose, The monster makes such spacious rings and clean, While the enchanter so deceives the knights, They view him not, and know not whence he smites. LIV "Between the two on earth and him o' the sky, Until that hour the warfare lasted there, Which, spreading wide its veil of dusky dye, Throughout the world, discolours all things fair. What I beheld, I say; I add not, I, A tittle to the tale; yet scarcely dare To tell to other what I stood and saw; So strange it seems, so passing Nature's law. LV "Well covered in a goodly silken case, He, the celestial warrior, bore his shield; But why delayed the mantle to displace I know not, and its lucid orb concealed. Since this no sooner blazes in his face, Than his foe tumbles dazzled on the field; And while he, like a lifeless body, lies, Becomes the necromancer's helpless prize. LVI "LIke carbuncle, the magic buckler blazed, No glare was ever seen which shone so bright: Nor could the warriors choose but fall, amazed And blinded by the clear and dazzling light. I, too, that from a distant mountain gazed, Fell senseless; and when I regained my sight, After long time, saw neither knights nor page, Nor aught beside a dark and empty stage. LVII "This while the fell enchanter, I supposed, Dragged both the warriors to his prison-cell; And by strange virtue of the shield disclosed, I from my hope and they from freedom fell: And thus I to the turrets, which enclosed My heart, departing, bade a last farewell. Now sum my griefs, and say if love combine Other distress or grief to match with mine." LVIII The knight relapsed into his first disease, After his melancholy tale was done. This was Count Pinabel, the Maganzese, Anselmo d'Altaripa's faithless son. He, where the blood ran foul through all degrees, Disdained to be the only virtuous one; Nor played a simple part among the base, Passing in vice the villains of his race. LIX With aspect changing still, the beauteous dame Hears what the mournful Maganzese narrates; And, at first mention of Rogero's name, Her radiant face with eager joy dilates. But, full of pity, kindles into flame As Pinabel his cruel durance states. Nor finds she, though twice told, the story stale; But makes him oft repeat and piece his tale.