Chapter 13 - Page 2

if your courage avails to
merit it. Though it belongs to me by right, I will not use it in
this dispute. See, I hang it on this tree: you shall be master of
it, if you bereave me of life; not else."
At these words, Orlando drew Durindana, and hung it on one of the
branches of a tree near by.
Both knights, boiling with equal ardor, rode off in a semicircle;
then rushed together with reins thrown loose, and struck one another
with their lances. Both kept their seats, immovable. The splinters
of their lances flew into the air, and no weapon remained for either
but the fragment which he held in his hand. Then those two knights,
covered with iron mail, were reduced to the necessity of fighting with
staves, in the manner of two rustics, who dispute the boundary of a
meadow, or the possession of a spring.
These clubs could not long keep whole in the hands of such sturdy
smiters, who were soon reduced to fight with naked fists. Such warfare
was more painful to him that gave than to him that received the blows.
They next clasped, and strained each his adversary, as Hercules did
Antaeus. Mandricardo, more enraged than Orlando, made violent
efforts to unseat the paladin, and dropped the rein of his horse.
Orlando, more calm, perceived it. With one hand he resisted
Mandricardo, with the other he twitched the horse's bridle over the
ears of the animal. The Saracen dragged Orlando with all his might,
but Orlando's thighs held the saddle like a vise. At last the
efforts of the Saracen broke the girths of Orlando's horse; the saddle
slipped; the knight, firm in his stirrups slipped with it, and came to
the ground hardly conscious of his fall. The noise of his armor in
falling startled Mandricardo's horse, now without a bridle. He started
off in full career, heeding neither trees nor rocks nor broken ground.
Urged by fright, he ran with furious speed, carrying his master,
who, almost distracted with rage, shouted and beat the animal with his
fists, and thereby impelled his flight. After running thus three miles
or more, a deep ditch opposed their progress. The horse and rider fell
headlong into it, and did not find the bottom covered with
feather-beds or roses. They got sadly bruised; but were lucky enough
to escape without any broken limbs.
Mandricardo, as soon as he gained his feet, seized the horse by
his mane with fury, but, having no bridle, could not hold him. He
looked round in hopes of finding something that would do for a rein.
Just then fortune, who seemed willing to help him at last, brought
that way a peasant with a bridle in his hand, who was in search of his
farm horse that had strayed away.
Orlando, having speedily repaired his horse's girths, remounted, and
waited a good hour for the Saracen