XXX She, if of vain desire will not die, Must help herself, nor yet delay the aid. And she in truth, her will to satisfy, Deemed 'twas no time to wait till she was prayed. And next of shame renouncing every tye, With tongue as bold as eyes, petition made, And begged him, haply an unwitting foe, To sheathe the suffering of that cruel blow. XXXI O Count Orlando, O king of Circassy, Say what your valour has availed to you! Say what your honour boots, what goodly fee Remunerates ye both, for service true! Sirs, show me but a single courtesy, With which she ever graced ye, -- old or new, -- As some poor recompense, desert, or guerdon, For having born so long so sore a burden! XXXII Oh! couldst thou yet again to life return, How hard would this appear, O Agricane! In that she whilom thee was wont to spurn, With sharp repulse and insolent disdain. O Ferrau, O ye thousand more, forlorn, Unsung, who wrought a thousand feats in vain For this ungrateful fair, what pain 'twould be Could you within his arms the damsel see! XXXIII To pluck, as yet untouched, the virgin rose, Angelica permits the young Medore. Was none so blest as in that garden's close Yet to have set his venturous foot before. They holy ceremonies interpose, Somedeal to veil -- to gild -- the matter o'er. Young Love was bridesman there the tie to bless, And for brideswoman stood the shepherdess. XXXIV In the low shed, with all solemnities, The couple made their wedding as they might; And there above a month, in tranquil guise, The happy lovers rested in delight. Save for the youth the lady has no eyes, Nor with his looks can satisfy her sight. Nor yet of hanging on his neck can tire, Of feel she can content her fond desire. XXXV The beauteous boy is with her night and day, Does she untent herself, or keep the shed. Morning or eve they to some meadow stray, Now to this bank, and to that other led: Haply, in cavern harboured, at mid-day, Grateful as that to which Aeneas fled With Dido, when the tempest raged above, The faithful witness to their secret love. XXXVI Amid such pleasures, where, with tree o'ergrown, Ran stream, or bubbling fountain's wave did spin, On bark or rock, if yielding were the stone, The knife was straight at work or ready pin. And there, without, in thousand places lone, And in as many places graved, within, MEDORO and ANGELICA were traced, In divers cyphers quaintly interlaced. XXXVII When she believed they had prolonged their stay More than enow, the damsel made design In India to revisit her Catay, And with its crown Medoro's head entwine. She had upon her wrist an armlet, gay With costly gems, in witness and in sign Of love to her by Count Orlando borne, And which the damsel for long time had worn.