CXXVIII Turning about to him the victoress cried, Laughing, "This lady I to thee present, And the more beauty is in her descried, The more that she is thine I am content, Now in my place her champion and her guide. But do not thou thy plighted faith repent, So that thou fail, as promised, to attend The dame, wherever she may please to wend." CXXIX Without awaiting answer, to career She spurred her horse, and vanished in the wood. Zerbino, deeming her a cavalier, Cried to the crone, "By whom am I subdued?" And, knowing 'twould be poison to his ear, And that it would inflame his angered blood, She in reply, "It was a damsel's blow Which from thy lofty saddle laid thee low. CXXX "She, for her matchless force, deservedly Usurps from cavalier the sword and lance; And even from the east is come to try Her strength against the paladins of France." Not only was his cheek of crimson dye, Such shame Zerbino felt as his mischance, Little was wanting (so his blushes spread) But all the arms he wore had glowed as red. CXXXI He mounts, and blames himself in angry wise, In that he had no better kept his seat. Within herself the beldam laughs, and tries The Scottish warrior more to sting and heat. To him for promised convoy she applies; And he, who knows that there is no retreat, Stands like tired courser, who in pensive fit, Hangs down his ears, controlled by spur and bit. CXXXII And, sighing deeply, cries, in his despair, "Fell Fortune, with what change dost thou repay My loss! she who was fairest of the fair, Who should be mine, by thee is snatched away! And thinkest thou the evil to repair With her whom thou hast given to me this day? Rather than make like ill exchange, less cross It were to undergo a total loss. CXXXIII "Her, who for virtue and for beauteous form Was never equalled, nor will ever be, Thou on the rocks hast wrecked, in wintry storm, As food for fowls and fishes of the sea; And her who should have fed the earth-bred worm Preserved beyond her date, some ten or score Of years, to harass and torment me more." CXXXIV So spake Zerbino, and like grief displaid, In his despairing words and woful mien, For such an odious acquisition made, As he had suffered when he lost his queen. The aged woman now, from what he said, Though she before Zerbino had not seen, Perceived 'twas him of whom, in the thieves' hold, Isabel of Gallicia erst had told. CXXXV If you remember what was said before, This was the hag who 'scaped out of the cave, Where Isabella, who had wounded sore Zerbino's heart, was long detained a slave; Who oft had told how she her native shore Had left, and, launching upon ocean's wave Her frigate, had been wrecked by wind and swell Upon the rocky shallows near Rochelle.