VI He, after some few days, in Natoly Finds himself, and towards Brusa goes his ways; Hence wending, on the hither side o' the sea, Makes Thrace; through Hungary by the Danube lays His course, and as his horse had wings to flee, Traverses in less time than twenty days Both the Moravian and Bohemian line; Threaded Franconia next, and crost the Rhine. VII To Aix-la-Chapelle thence, through Arden's wood, Came and embarked upon the Flemish strand. To sea, with southern breeze his vessel stood; And, so the favouring wind her canvas fanned, That he, at little distance, Albion viewed By noon, and disembarked upon her land. He backed his horse, and so the rowels plied, In London he arrived by even-tide. VIII Here, learning afterwards that Otho old Has lain for many months in Paris-town, And that anew nigh every baron bold Has after his renowned example done, He straightway does for France his sails unfold, And to the mouth of Thames again is gone. Whence issuing forth, with all his canvas spread, For Calais he directs the galley's head. IX A breeze which, from the starboard blowing light, Had tempted forth Astolpho's bark to sea, By little and by little, waxed in might, And so at last obtains the mastery, The pilot is constrained to veer outright, Lest by the billows swampt his frigate be, And he, departing from his first design, Keeps the bark straight before the cresting brine. X Now to the right, now to the other hand, Sped by the tempest, through the foaming main, The vessel ran; she took the happy land At last nigh Rouen; and forthwith, in chain And plate Astolpho cased, and girt with brand, Bade put the saddle upon Rabicane; Departed thence, and (what availed him more Than thousands armed) with him his bugle bore; XI And traversing a forest, at the feet Of a fair hill, arrived beside a font, What time the sheep foregoes his grassy meat, Penned in the cabin or the hollow mount; And, overcome by feverish thirst and heat, Lifted the weighty morion from his front; Tethered his courser in the thickest wood, And, with intent to drink, approached the flood. XII His lips he had not wetted in its bed Before a youthful rustic, ambushed near, Sprang from a copse, backed Rabican, and fled With the good courser of the cavalier. Astolpho hears the noise and lifts his head, And, when he sees his mighty loss so clear, Satiate, although he had not drunk, upstarts, And after the young churl in fury darts. XIII That robber did not let the courser strain At speed, or he had from the warrior shot; But loosening now and tightening now the rein, Fled at a gallop or a steady trot. From the deep forest issued forth the twain, After long round, and reached in fine the spot Where so many illustrious lords were shent: Worse prisoners they than if in prison pent!