XIV On Rabican, who with the wind might race, The villain sped, within the enchanter's won. Impeded by his shield and iron case, Parforce Astolpho far behind him run; Yet there arrives as well, but every trace Of what the warrior had pursued is gone. He neither Rabican nor thief can meet, And vainly rolls his eyes and plies his feet. XV He plies his feet, and searches still in vain Throughout the house, hall, bower, or galleried rows: Yet labours evermore, with fruitless pain And care, to find the treacherous churl; nor knows Where he can have secreted Rabicane, Who every other animal outgoes: And vainly searches all day the dome about, Above, below, within it, and without. XVI He, wearied and confused with wandering wide, Perceived the place was by enchantment wrought, And of the book he carried at his side, By Logistilla given in India, thought; Bestowed, should new enchantment him betide, That needful succour might therein be sought. He to the index turns, and quickly sees What pages show the proper remedies. XVII I' the book, of that enchanted house at large Was written, and in this was taught the way To foil the enchanter, and to set at large The different prisoners, subject to his sway. Of these illusions and these frauds in charge, A spirit pent beneath the threshold lay; And the stone raised which kept him fast below, With him the palace into smoke would go. XVIII Astolpho with desire to bring to end An enterprise so passing fair, delays No more, but to the task his force does bend, And prove how much the heavy marble weighs. As old Atlantes sees the knight intend To bring to scorn his art and evil ways, Suspicious of the ill which may ensue, He moves to assail him with enchantments new. XIX He, with his spells and shapes of devilish kind, Makes the duke different from his wont appear; To one a giant, and to one a hind, To other an ill-visaged cavalier; Each, in the form which in the thicket blind The false enchanter wore, beholds the peer. So that they all, with purpose to have back What the magician took, the duke attack. XX The Child, Gradasso, Iroldo, Bradamant, Prasildo, Brandimart, and many more, All, cheated by this new illusion, pant To slay the English baron, angered sore; But he abased their pride and haughty vaunt, Who straight bethought him of the horn be bore. But for the succour of its echo dread, They, without fail, had laid Astolpho dead. XXI But he no sooner has the bugle wound And poured a horrid larum, than in guise Of pigeons at the musquet's scaring sound, The troop of cavaliers affrighted flies. No less the necromancer starts astound, No less he from his den in panic hies; Troubled and pale, and hurrying evermore Till out of hearing of the horrid roar