VI He sojourns there three days, the camp to see; Still seeking nought beside: next up and down, Within, without, both burgh and city he Spies; nor surveys the realm of France alone; But fair Auvergne, and even Gascony Revisits, to its farthest little town. Roves from Provence to Brittany's domain, And from the Picards to the bounds of Spain. VII Between October and November's moon, In that dull season when the leafy vest Is stript from trembling plant, whose limbs are shown Of all their mantling foliage dispossess'd And in close flights the swarming birds are flown, Orlando enters on his amorous quest: This he pursues the livelong winter through, Nor quits when gladsome spring returns anew. VIII As (such his wont) from land to land he goes, A river's side he reaches on a day; Which to the neighbouring sea in quiet flows. Bretons and Normans parting on its way: But, swoln with mountain rain and melted snows, Then thundered, white with foam and flashing-spray: And with impetuous stream had overtopt Its brim, and burst the bridge, and passage stopt. IX The paladin this bank and the other eyed, Along the river's channel, to explore, Since neither fish nor fowl, if from his side He could gain footing on the adverse shore; When, with a damsel in the poop, he spied A ready pinnace that towards him bore: She steered, as if she would approach the strand; But would not let her shallop make the land. X Steered not to land; as haply with suspicion To take a lading, in her own despite. To her the good Orlando made petition To put him o'er the stream; and she: "No knight Passes this ferry, but upon condition He shall his faith and promise duly plight, That he will do a battle, at my prayer, Upon the justest quarrel and most fair. XI "So that if thou on that other shore to land Dost by my aid, Sir cavalier, desire, Promise me, ere the month which is at hand" (The damsel so pursued her speech) "expire, That thou wilt join the Hibernian monarch's hand, Who forms a fair armada, in his ire, To sack Ebuda's isle; of all compress'd By ocean's circling waves, the cruellest. XII "Know, beyond Ireland, in the briny flood, An island, amid many others, lies; Ebuda is its name; whose people rude (Such is their law), in search of plunder hies; And all the women that it takes, for food To a voracious animal supplies; Which every day to shore for this does speed, And finds new wife or maid whereon to feed: XIII "For of these merchant still and Corsair sell A large supply, and most of those most fair. Reckoning one slain a-day, you thus may well Compute what wives and maids have perished there. But if compassion in your bosom dwell, Nor you to Love an utter rebel are, Be you contented with this band to wend, United for such profitable end."