Orlando Furioso

THE HISTORIE OF Orlando Furioso One of the twelue Pieres of France . Enter Marsillus the Emperour of Affrica , and Angelica his Daughter , the Soldane , the King of Cuba , Mandrecard Brandemart , Orlando , County Sacrepant , with others . MARSILLVS . VIctorious Princes summond to appeare Within the Continent of Africa , From seauenfold Nylus to Taprobany , Where faire Apollo darting forth his light Plaies on the Seas . From Gadis Ilands where stowt Hercules , Imblasde his trophees on two posts of brasse , To Tanais whose swift declining flouds , Inuirons rich Europa to the North , All fetcht from out your Courts by beauty to this Coast , To seeke and sue for faire Angelica . Sith none but one must haue this happy prize , At which you all haue leueld long your thoughts ; Set each man forth his passions how he can , And let her Censure make the happiest man . SOVLDAN . The fairest flowre that glories Affrica , Whose beauty Phoebus dares not dash with showres , Ouer whose Clymate neuer hung a Clowde , But smiling Titan lights the Horyzon : Egypt is mine and there I hold my State , Seated in Cairye and in Babylon ; From thence the matchlesse beauty of Angelica , Whose hew as bright as are those siluer Doues , That wanton Venus manth vpon her fist , Forst me to crosse and cut th' atlanticke Seas , To ouersearch the fearefull Ocean , Where I ariud to eternize with my Launce , The matchles beauty of faire Angelica . Nor Tilt , nor Tournay , but my Speare and shield , Resounding on their Crests and sturdy Helmes Topt high with Plumes , like Mars his Burgonet , Inchasing on their Curats with my blade , That none so faire , as faire Angelica . But leauing these such glories as they be , I loue my Lord , let that suffize for me . RODAMANT . Cuba my seate , a Region so inricht , With fauours sparkling from the smiling heauens , As those that seekes for trafficke to my Coast , Accounted like that wealthy Paradice , From whence floweth Gyhon and swift Euphrates : The earth within her bowels hath inwrapt , As in the massie storehowse of the world , Millions of gold as bright as was the showre , That wanton Iove sent downe to Danae : Marching from thence to manage Armes abroade , I past the triple parted Regiment , That froward Saturne gave vnto his sonnes , Erecting Statues of my Chiualry , Such and so braue as neuer Hercules , Vowd for the loue of louely Iole : But leauing these such glories as they be , I loue my Lord , let that suffize for me . MANDRECARDE . And I my Lord am Mandrecarde of Mexico , Whose Clymate fayrer than Tyberius , Seated beyond the Sea of Trypoly , And richer than the plot Hesperides , Or that same I le wherein Vlysses loue , Luld in her lap the young Telegone , That did but Venus tread a daintie step , So would shee like the land of Mexico , As Paphos and braue Cypres set aside , With me sweete louely Venus would abide . From thence mounted vpon a Spanish Barke , Such as transported Iason to the fleece : Come from the South , I furrowd Neptunes Seas , Northeast as far as is the frosen Rhene , Leauing faire Voya crost vp Danuby , As hie as Saba whose inhaunsing streames , Cuts twixt the Tartares and the Russians : There did I act as many braue attempts , As did Pirothous for his Proserpine . But leauing these such glories as they be , I loue my Lord , let that suffize for me . BRANDEMART . The bordring Ilands seated here in ken , Whose shores are sprinkled with rich Orient Pearle , More bright of hew than were the Margarets , That Caesar found in wealthy Albion , The sands of Tagus all of burnisht golde , Made Thetis neuer prowder on the Clifts , That ouerpiere the bright and golden shore , Than doo the rubbish of my Country Seas : And what I dare , let say the Portingale , And Spaniard tell , who mand with mighty Fleetes , Came Came to subdue my Ilands to their king , to their King . Filling our seas with stately Argosies , Caluars and Magars hulkes of burden great , Which Brandemart rebated from his coast , And sent them home ballast with little wealth But leauing these such glories as they bee , I loue ( my Lord ) let that suffise for mee . Orl: Lords of the South , & Princes of esteeme , Viceroyes vnto the State of Affrica : I am no King , yet am I princely borne , Descended from the royall house of France , And nephew to the mightie Charlemaine , Surnamde Orlando the Countie Palatine . Swift Fame that sounded to our Westerne seas The matchles beautie of Angelica , Fairer than was the Nimph of Mercurie , Who when bright Phoebus mounteth vp his coach And tracts Aurora in her siluer steps , And sprinkles from the folding of her lap , White lillies , roses and sweete violets . Yet thus beleeue me , Princes of the South , Although my Countries loue deerer than pearle , Or mynes of gold might well haue kept me backe ; The sweet conuersing with my King and frends , ( Left all for loue ) might well haue kept mee backe ; The Seas by Neptune hoysed to the heauens , Whose dangerous flawes might well haue kept me backe ; The sauage Mores & Anthropagei Whose lands I past might well haue kept me backe ; The doubt of entertainment in the Court When I arriude might well haue kept me backe : But so the fame of faire Angelica , Stampt in my thoughts the figure of her loue , As neither Country , King , or Seas , or Cannibals , Could by dispairing keep Orlando backe . I list not boast in acts of chiualrie , ( An humor neuer fitting with my minde ) But come there forth the proudest champion That hath suspition in the Palatine , And with my trustie sword Durandell Single , I le register vpon his helme , What I dare doo for faire Angelica . But leauing these , such glories as they bee ; I loue my Lord . Angelica her selfe shall speak for mee . Mar: Daughter thou hearst what loue hath here alleadgd , How all these Kings by beautie summond here , Puts in their pleas for hope of Diademe , Of noble deeds , of welth and chiualrie , All hoping to possesse Angelica . Sith fathers will may hap to ayme amisse , ( For parents thoughts in loue oft step awrie ) Choose thou the man who best contenteth thee , And he shall weare the Affricke Crowne next mee . For trust me Daughter , like of whom thou please , Thou satisfide , my thoughts shall be at ease . Ang: Kings of the South , Viceroyes of Affrica , Sith Fathers will hangs on his Daughters choyce , And I as earst Princesse Andromache , Seated amidst the crue of Priams sonnes , Haue libertie to chuse where best I loue ; Must freely say , for fancie hath no fraud , That farre unworthies Angelica Of such as deigne to grace her with their loues . The Souldan with his seate in Babylon , The Prince of Cuba and of Mexico , Whose welthie crownes might win a womans will ; Yong Brandemard master of all the Iles , Where Neptune planted hath his treasurie : The worst of these men of so high import , As may command a greater Dame than I . But Fortune or some deep inspiring fate , Venus or else the bastard brat of Mars , Whose bow commands the motions of the minde , Hath sent proud loue to enter such a plea , As nonsutes all your Princely euidence , And flat commands that maugre Maiestie , I chuse Orlando , Countie Palatine . Ro: How likes Marsillus of his daughters choice ? Mar: As fits Marsillus of his daughters spouse . Ro: Highly thou wrongst vs , King of Affrica , To braue thy neighbor Princes with disgrace , To tye thy honor to thy daughters thoughts , Whose choyce is like that Greekish giglots loue , That left her Lord Prince Menelaus , And with a swaine made scape away to Troy . What is Orlando but a stragling mate , Banisht for some offence by Charlemaine , Skipt from his country as Anchises sonne , And meanes as he did to the Carthage Queene , To pay her ruth and ruine for her loue . Orl: Iniurious Cuba , ill it fits thy gree To wrong a stranger with discurtesie . Wert not the sacred presence of Angelica Preuailes with me ( as Venus smiles with Mars ) To set a Supersedeas of my wrath , Soone should I teach thee what it were to braue . Man: And French man wert not gainst the law of armes In place of parly for to draw a sword , Vntaught companion I would learne you know What dutie longs to such a Prince as hee . Orl: Then as did Hector fore Achilles Tent , Trotting his Courser softly on the plaines , Proudly darde forth the stoutest youth of Greece : So who stands hiest in his owne conceipt , And thinkes his courage can performe the most , Let him but throw his gauntlet on the ground , And I will pawne my honor to his gage , He shall ere night be met and combatted . Mar: Shame you not Princes at this bad agree , To wrong a stranger with discurtesie . Beleeue me Lords , my daughter hath made choice , And mauger him that thinkes him most agreeud , She shall enioy the Countie Palatine . Bran: But would these Princes folow my aduise And enter armes as did the Greekes gainst Troy ; Nor he nor thou shouldst haue Angelica . Rod: Let him be thought a dastard to his death . That will not sell the trauells he hath past , Dearer than for a womans fooleries . What saies the mightie Mandricard ? Man: I vow to hie me home to Mexico , To troop my selfe with such a crew of men , As shall so fill the downes of Affrica Like to the plaines of watrie Thessalie , When as an Easterne gale whistling aloft Had ouerspred the ground with Grashoppers : Then see Marsillus if the Palatine Can keep his Loue from falling to our lots , Or thou canst keep thy Countrey free from spoile . Mar: Why think you Lords with hautie menaces To dare me out within my Pallace gates ? Or hope you to make conquest by constraint Of that which neuer could be got by loue ? Passe from my Court , make hast out of my land Stay not within the bounds Marsillus holds ; Least little brooking these vnfitting braues , My cholar ouer-slip the law of Armes , And I inflict reuenge on such abuse . Rod: I le beard & braue thee in thy proper town , And here inskonce my selfe despite of thee , And hold thee play till Mandricard returne . What saies the mightie Souldan of Egypt ? Sol: That when Prince Menelaus with all his mates , Had ten yeres held their siege in Asia , Folding their wrothes in cinders of faire Troy : Yet for their armes grew by conceit of love , Their Trophees was but conquest of a girle : Then trust me Lords I le neuer manage armes , For womens loues that are so quickly lost . Bran: Tush my Lords why stand you vpon termes Let vs to our Skonce , and you my Lord to Mexico . Exeunt Kings . Orl: I sirs , inskonce ye how you can , see what we dare , And thereon set your rest . Exeunt Omnes . Manent Sacrepant and his man . Sac: Boast not too much Marsillus in thy selfe , Nor of contentment in Angelica ; For Sacrepant must haue Angelica , And with her Sacrepant must haue the Crowne : By hooke or crooke I must and will haue both . Ah sweet Reuenge incense their angrie mindes , Till all these Princes weltring in their blouds , The Crowne doo fall to Countie Sacrepant . Sweet are the thoughts that smother from conceit : For when I come and set me downe to rest , My chaire presents a throne of Maiestie : And when I set my bonnet on my head , Me thinkes I fit my forhead for a Crowne : And when I take my trunchion in my fist , A Scepter then comes tumbling in my thoughts . My dreames are Princely , all of Diademes , Honor : me thinkes the title is too base . Mightie , glorious and excellent : I these my glorious Genius sound within my mouth These please the care , and with a sweet applause , Makes me in tearmes coequall with the Gods . Then these Sacrepant , and none but these . And these or else make hazard of thy life . Let it suffice , I will conceale the rest . Sirra . Man. My Lord . Sacrep: My Lord . How basely was this Slaue brought up ? That knowes no titles fit for dignitie , To grace his Master with Hyperboles . My Lord . Why the basest Baron of faire Affrica , Deserues as much : yet Countie Sacrepant , Must he a swaine salute with name of Lord . Sirra , what thinkes the Emperor of my colours , Because in field I weare both blue and red at once ? Man. They deeme my Lord , your Honor liues at peace , As one that s newter in these mutinies , And couets to rest equall frends to both : Neither enuious to Prince Mandricard , Nor wishing ill unto Marsillus , That you may safely passe where ere you please , With frendly salutations from them both . Sac: I , so they gesse , but leuell farre awrie ; For if they knew the secrets of my thoughts , Mine Embleme sorteth to another sense . I weare not these as one resolud to peace , But blue and red as enemie to both . Blue , as hating King Marsillus ; And red , as in reuenge to Mandricard : Foe vnto both , frend onely to my selfe , And to the crowne , for that s the golden marke , Which makes my thoughts dreame on a Diademe Seest not thou all men presage I shall be King : Marsillus sends to me for peace , Mandrecard puts of his cap ten mile of , Two things more & then I cannot mis the crowne . Man: O what be those my good Lord . Sacr: First must I get the loue of faire Angelica . Now am I full of amorous conceits , Not that I doubt to haue what I desire , But how I might best with mine honor woo , Write , or intreate : fie that fitteth not , Send by Ambassadors : no that s too base . Flatly command I that s for Sacrepant : Say thou art Sacrepant and art in loue And who in Affricke dare say the Countie nay . O Angelica , fairer then Chloris when in al her pride Bright Mayas sonne intrapt her in the net , Wherewith Vulcan intangled the God of warre . Man: Your honor is so far in contemplation of Angelica , As you haue forgot the second in attaining to the crowne . Sac:

That s to be done by poyson , prowesse , or anie meanes of treacherie to put to death the traitrous Orlando . But who is this comes here . Stand close .

Enter Orgalio Orlandos Page . Org:

I am sent on imbassage to the right mightie and magnificent : alias , the right proud and pontificall the Countie Sacrepant . For Marsillus & Orlando knowing him to be as full of prowesse as policie , and fearing least in leaning to the other faction , hee might greatly preiudice them , they seeke first to hold the candle before the diuell : & knowing hym to be a Thrasonicall mad-cap , they haue sent mee a Gnathonicall companion , to giue him lettice fit for his lips . Now sir , knowing his astronomical humors , as one that gazeth so high at the starres , as he neuer looketh on the pauement in the streetes . But whist , Lupus est in fabula .

Sac:

Sirra , thou that ruminatest to thy selfe a catalogue of priuie conspiracies , what art thou ?

Org:

God saue your Maiestie ?

Sac:

My Maiestie , come hether my well nutrimented Knaue , whom takest me to bee ?

Org:

The mightie Mandricard of Mexico .

Sacr:

I hold these salutations as omynous , for saluting mee by that which I am not , hee presageth what I shall be ; for so did the Lacedemonians by Agathocles , who of a base potter , wore the Kingly Diadem , but why deemest thou me to be the mightie Mandricard of Mexico ?

Org:

Marie sir .

Sacr:

Stay there , wert thou neuer in France .

Org:

Yes , if it please your Maiestie .

Sac:

So it seemes for there they salute their king by the name of Sir , Mounsier , but forward .

Org: Such sparkes of peerlesse Maiestie , From those looks flames like lightning from the East As either Mandricard , or else some greater Prince . Sac:

Methinks these salutations makes my thoghts To be heroicall . But say to whom art thou sent ?

Org:

To the Countie Sacrepant .

Sacr:

Why I am he .

Org:

It pleaseth your Maiestie to iest .

Sacr:

What ere I seeme , I tell thee I am he .

Org:

Then may it please your honor : the Emperor Marsillus together with his daughter Angelica and Orlando entreateth your Excellencie to dine with them .

Sacr:

Is Angelica there ?

Org:

There my good Lord .

Sacr:

Sirra .

Man:

My Lord .

Sacr: Villaine , Angelica sends for me . See that thou entertaine that happie messenger . And bring him in with thee . Exeunt omnes . Enter Orlando the Duke of Aquitaine , the Countie Rossilion with souldiers . Orl: Princes of France , the sparkling light of fame , Whose glories brighter than the burnisht gates , From whence Latonas lordly sonne doth march , When mounted on his coach tinseld with flames , He triumphs in the beautie of the heauens . This is the place where Rodamant lies hid : Here lyes he like the theefe of Thessaly , Which scuds abroad , and searcheth for his pray ; And being gotten , straight he gallops home , As one that dares not breake a speare in field . But trust me Princes I haue girt his fort , And I will sacke it , or on this Castle wall , I le write my resolution with my blood . Therefore drum sound a parle . Sound a Parle , and one comes vpon the walls . Sol: Who is that troubleth our sleepes ? Orl: Why sluggard , seest thou not Lycaons son The hardie plough-swaine vnto mightie Ioue , Hath tracde his siluer furrowes in the heauens , And turning home his ouer-watched teeme , Giues leaue vnto Apollos Chariot . I tell thee sluggard , sleep is farre vnfit For such as still haue hammering in their heads , But onely hope of honor and reuenge . These cald me forth to rouse thy master vp . Tell him from me , false coward as he is , That Orlando the Countie Palatine , Is come this morning with a band of French , To play him hunts-vp with a poynt of warre . I le be his minstrell with my drum and fife : Bid him come forth , and dance it if he dare , Let Fortune throw her fauors where she list . Sol: French-man between halfe sleeping & awake Although the mystie vayle straind ouer Cynthia , Hinders my sight from nothing all thy crue : Yet for I know thee and thy stragling groomes Can in conceit build Castles in the Skie : But in your actions like the stammering Greeke , Which breathes his courage bootlesse in the aire . I wish thee well Orlando : get thee gone , Say that a Centynell did suffer thee : For if the Round or Court of Gard should heare Thou or thy men were braying at the walls , Charles welth the welth of all his Westerne mynes , Found in the mountaines of Transalpine France , Might not pay ransome to the King for thee . Orl: Braue Centynell if nature hath inchast , A sympathie of courage to thy tale , And like the champion of Andromache , Thou or thy master dare came out the gates , Maugre the watch , the round , or Court of gard , I will attend to abide the coward here . If not , but still the crauin sleepes secure , Pitching his gard within a trench of stones ; Tell him his walls shall serue him for no proofe , But as the sonne of Saturne in his wrath Pasht all the mountaines at Typheus head , And topsey turuie turnd the bottome vp , So shall the Castle of proud Rodamant : And so braue Lords of France , let s to the fight . Exeunt omnes . Alarums . Rodamant and Brandemart flie , Enter Orlando with his coate . Orl: The Foxe is scapde , but here s his case : I mist him nere , t was time for him to trudge . How now my Lord of Aquitaine ? Aquit: My Lord , the Court of gard is put vnto the sword , And all the watch that thought themselues so sure ; So that not one within the Castle breaths . Orl: Come then , let s post amaine to finde out Rodamant , And then in triumph march vnto Marsillus . Exeunt Enter Medor and Angelica An: I meruaile Medor what my father meanes To enter league with Countie Sacrepant ? Med: Madam , the king your fathers wise inough , He knowes the Countie ( like to Cassius ) Sits sadly dumping , ayming Caesars death , Yet crying Ave to his Maiestie . But Madame marke a while , and you shall see , Your Father shake him off from secrecie . Ang: So much I gesse , for when he wild I should Giue entertainment to the doating Earle , His speach was ended with a frowning smile . Med: Madame , see where he comes ; I le be gone . Exit Medor . Enter Sacrepant and his man . Sacr: How fares my faire Angelica ? Ang:

Well that my Lord so frendly is in league ( As honor will him with Marsillus .

Sac: Angelica shal I haue a word or two with thee Ang: What pleaseth my Lord for to command . Sac: Then know my loue , I cannot paint my grief Nor tell a tale of Venus and her sonne , Reporting such a Catalogue of toyes . It fits not Sacrepant to be effeminate , Onely guie leaue my faire Angelica , To say the Countie is in loue with thee . Ang: Pardon my Lord , my loues are ouer-past , So firmly is Orlando printed in my thoughts , As loue hath left no place for anie else . Sac: Why ouer-weening Damsel , seest thou not , Thy lawlesse loue vnto this stragling mate . Hath fild our Affrick Regions full of bloud , And wilt thou still perseuer in thy loue ? Tush leaue the Palatine , and goe with mee . Ang: Braue Countie know where sacred Loue vnites , The knot of Gordion at the shrine of Ioue , Was neuer halfe so hard or intricate , As be the bands which louely Venus ties . Sweete is my loue : and for I loue my Lord , Seek not vnlesse as Alexander did , To cut the plough-swaines traces with thy sword , Or slice the slender fillets of my life : Or else my Lord , Orlando must be mine . Sac: Stand I on loue ? Stoop I to Venus lure , That neuer yet did feare the God of warre ? Shall men report that Countie Sacrepant Held louers paines for pining passions ? Shall such a Syren offer me more wrong , Than they did to the Prince of Ithaca ? No : as he his cares , so Countie stop thine eye . Goe to your needle ( Ladie ) and your clouts . Goe to such milk-sops as are fit for loue : I will imploy my busie braines for warre , Ang: Let not my Lords deniall breed offence , Loue doth allow her fauors but to one , Nor can there sit within the sacred shrine Of Venus , more than one installed hart . Orlando is the Gentleman I loue , And more than he may not inioy my loue . Sac: Damsell be gone , fancie hath taken leaue ; Where I tooke hurt there haue I heald my selfe , As those that with Achilles lance were wounded , Fetcht helpe at selfe same pointed speare . Beautie gan braue , and beautie hath repulse : And Beautie get ye gone to your Orlando . Exit Angelica . Man. My Lord : hath loue amated him whose thoughts Haue euer been heroycall and braue ? Stand you in dumpes like to the Mirmydon , Trapt in the tresses of Polixena : Who amid the glorie of his chiualrie , Sat daunted with a maid of Asia . Sac: Thinkst thou my thoghts are lunacies of loue ? No , they are brands fierd in Plutoes forge , Where sits Tsiphone tempring in flames Those torches that doo set on fire Reuenge , I lovd the Dame , but bravd by her repulse , Hate calls me on to quittance all my ills : Which first must come by offring preiudice Vnto Orlando her beloued Loue . Man: O how may that be brought to passe my Lord ? Sacr: Thus . Thou seest that Medor & Angelica Are still so secret in their priuate walkes , As that they trace the shadie lawndes , And thickest shadowed groues ; Which well may breed suspition of some loue . Now than the French no Nation vnder heauen Is sooner tutcht with stings of iealozie . Man. And what of that my Lord ? Sac: Hard by for solace in a secret Groue , The Countie once a day failes not to walke : There solemnly he ruminates his loue . Vpon those shrubs that compasse in the spring , And on those trees that border in those walkes , I le slily haue engravn on everie barke The names of Medor and Angelica . Hard by I le haue some roundelayes hung vp . Wherein shal be some posies of their loues , Fraughted so full of fierie passions , As that the Countie shall perceiue by proofe , Medor hath won his faire Angelica . Man. Is this all my Lord ? Sacr: No . For thou like to a shepheard shalt bee Cloathd , With staffe and bottle like some countrey swaine , That tends his flockes feeding vpon these downes , There see thou buzze into the Counties eates , That thou hast often seene within these woods Base Medor sporting with Angelica . And when he heares a shepheards simple tale , He will not thinke t is faind . Then either a madding mood will end his loue , Or worse betyde him through fond iealozie . Man. Excellent . My Lord , see how I will playe the Shepheard . Sac: And marke thou how I play the caruer , Therefore be gone , and make the readie straight . Exit his man . Sacrepant hangs vp the Roundelayes on the trees , and then goes out , and his man enters like a shepheard . Shep: Thus all alone and like a shepheards swain , As Paris ( when Oenon lovd him well ) Forgat he was the sonne of Priamus , All clad in gray sate piping on a reed ; So I transformed to this Country shape , Haunting these groues to worke my masters will , To plague the Palatine with iealozie , And to conceipt him with some deepe extreame . Here comes the man vnto his wonted walke . Enter Orlando and his Page Orgalio . Orl: Orgalio , goe see a Centernell be placde , And bid the souldiers keep a Court of gard , So to hold watch till secret here alone , I meditate vpon the thoughts of loue . Org: I will my Lord . Exit Orgalio . Orl: Faire Queene of loue , thou mistres of delight , Thou gladsome lamp that waitst on Phoebes traine , Spredding thy kindnes through the iarring Orbes , That in their vnion praise thy lasting powres . Thou that hast staid the fierie Phlegons course , And madest the Coach-man of the glorious waine To droop , in view of Daphnes excellence . Faire pride of morne , sweete beautie of the Eeuen , Looke on Orlando languishing in loue . Sweete solitarie groues , whereas the Nymphes With pleasance laugh to see the Satyres play ; Witnes Orlandos faith vnto his loue . Tread she these lawnds , kinde Flora boast thy pride ; Seeke she for shades , spread Cedars for her sake , Faire Flora make her couch amidst thy flowres , Sweet Christall springs , wash ye with roses , When she longs to drinke . Ah , thought my heauen ; Ah heauen that knowes my thought . Smile ioy , in her that my content hath wrought . Shep: The heauen of loue is but a pleasant hell , Where none but foolish wife imprisned dwell . Orl: Orlando , what contrarious thoghts be these , That flocke with doubtfull motions in thy minde ? Heavn smiles , & trees do boast their summers pride : What ? Venus writes her triumphs here beside . She: Yet when thine eie hath seen , they hart shal rue The tragick chance that shortly shall ensue . Orlando readeth . Orl: Angelica . Ah sweete and heauenly name , Life to my life , and essence to my ioy . But soft this Gordion knot together co-unites A Medor partner in her peerlesse loue . Vnkinde : and wil she bend her thoughts to change ? Her name , her writing ? Ah foolish and vnkinde . No name of hers ; vnles the brookes relent To heare her name , and Rhodanus vouchsafe To raise his moystned lockes from out the reedes , And flow with calme alongst his turning bounds : No name of hers , vnles Zephyrus blow Her dignities alongst Ardenia woods ; Where all the world for wonders doo await . And yet her name ; for why Angelica : But mixt with Medor , not Angelica . Onely by me was lovd Angelica , Onely for me must liue Angelica . I finde her drift , perhaps the modest pledge Of my content , hath with a secret smile And sweet disguise restraind her fancie thus , Figuring Orlando vnder Medors name : Fine drift ( faire Nymph ) Orlando hopes no lesse . He spyes the Roundelayes . Yet more are Muses masking in these trees , Framing their ditties in conceited lines , Making a Goddesse in despite of me , That haue no other but Angelica . Shep:

Poore haples man , these thoughts containe the hell ,

Orlando reades this roundelay . Angelica is Ladie of his hart , Angelica is substance of his ioy , Angelica is medcine of his smart , Angelica hath healed his annoy . Orl: Ah false Angelica . What haue we more ? Another . Let groues , let rockes , let woods , let watrie springs , The Cedar , Cypresse , Laurell , and the Pine , Ioy in the notes of loue that Medor sings , Of those sweet lookes Angelica of thine . Then Medor in Angelica take delight , Early , at morne , at noone , at euen and night . Orl: What dares Medor court my Venus ? What may Orlando deeme ? Aetna forsake the bounds of Sicily , For now in me thy restlesse flames appeare , Refusd , contemnd , disdaind : what worse than these ? Orgalio . Org: My Lord . Orl: Boy , view these trees carued with true loue knots , The inscription Medor and Angelica : And read these verses hung vp of their loues . Now tell me boy , what dost thou thinke ? Org:

By my troth my Lord , I thinke Angelica is a woman .

Orl:

And what of that ?

Org:

Therefore vnconstant , mutable , hauing their loues hanging in their ey-lids ; that as they are got with a looke , so they are lost againe with a wink . But here s a Shepheard , it may be he can tell vs news .

Orl: What messenger hath Ate sent abroad , With idle lookes to listen my laments . Sirra , who wronged happy Nature so , To spoyle these trees with this Angelica ? Yet in her name ( Orlando ) they are blest . Shep: I am a shepheard swaine , thou wandring Knight , That watch my flockes , not one that follow loue . Orl: As follow loue ? why darest thou dispraise my heauen , Or once disgrace or preiudice her name ? Is not Angelica the Queene of loue , Deckt with the compound wreath of Adons flowrs She is . Then speake thou peasant , what is he that dares Attempt to court my Queene of loue . Or I shall send thy soule to Charons charge . Sh: Braue knight since feare of death inforceth still In greater mindes submission and relent : Know that this Medor whose vnhappie name Is mixed with the faire Angelicas , Is euen that Medor that inioyes her loue . You caue beares witnes of their kind content , Yon medowes talke the actions of their ioy . Our Shepheards in their songs of solace sing , Angelica doth none but Medor loue . Orl: Angelica doth none but Medor loue ? Shall Medor then possesse Orlandos loue ? Daintie and gladsome beames of my delight , Delicious browes , why smiles your heauen for those That wandring make you proue Orlandos foes : Lend me your plaints , you sweet Arcadian Nimphs , That wont to waile your new departed loues : Thou weeping floud , leaue Orpheus waile for me , And Titans Neeces gather all in one Those fluent springs of your lamenting teares , And let them flow alongst my faintfull lookes . Shep: Now is the fire late smothered in suspect , Kindled and burnes within his angrie brest . Now haue I done the will of Sacrepant . Orl: Foemineum seruile genus , crudele , superbum : Discurteous women , Natures fairest ill , The woe of man , that first created cursse ; Base female sex , sprung from blacke Ates loynes , Proud , disdainfull , cruell and vniust : Whose words are shaded with inchanting wills , Worse than Medusa , mateth all our mindes , And in their harts sits shameles trecherie Turning a truthles vile circumference . O could my furie paint their furies forth , For hel s no hell compared to their harts , Too simple diuels to conceale their arts . Borne to be plagues vnto the thoughts of men , Brought for eternall pestilence to the world . O Femmenelle in genio de toute malle sede , Comete , vulge , mute , fachilmente , Contrario , zero , propria de la fede ; O infelice , miserate , crede , Importuna , superbia , dispetoze : Preua de more , de fede , de consilia , Timmorare , crudele , ineque , ingrate , Par pestelenze eternal monde nate . Villaine , what art thou that followest me ? Org:

Alas my Lord , I am your seruant Orgalio

Orl:

No villaine thou art Medor that ranst away with Angelica .

Org:

No by my troth my Lord , I am Orgalio , aske all these people else .

Orl:

Art thou Orgalio ? tell me where Medor is .

Org:

My Lord looke where he sits .

Orl:

What , sits he here , and braues me too ?

Shep:

No truly Sir , I am not he .

Orl:

Yes villaine .

He drawes him in by the leg . Org:

Help , help , my Lord of Aquitaine .

Enter Duke of Aquitaine , and souldiers . Org:

O my Lord of Aquitaine the Count Orlando is run mad , and taking of a shepheard by the heeles , rends him as one would teare a Larke . See where he comes with a leg on his necke .

Enter Orlando with a leg . Orl: Villaine , prouide me straight a Lions skin , Thou seest I now am mightie Hercules : Looke where s my massie club vpon my necke . I must to hell , to seeke for Medor and Angelica , Or else I dye . You that are the rest , get you quickly away , Prouide ye horses all of burnisht gold , Saddles of corke because I le haue them light , For Charlemaine the Great is vp in armes . And Arthur with a crue of Britons comes To seeke for Medor and Angelica . So he beateth them all in before him . Manet Orgalio Enter Marsillus . Org:

Ah my Lord Orlando .

Mar:

Orlando , what of Orlando ?

Org:

He my Lord runs madding through the woods , Like mad Orestes in his greatest rage .

Step but aside into the bordring groue , There shall you see ingrauen on euerie tree , The lawlesse loue of Medor and Angelica . O see my Lord , not any shrub but beares The cursed stampe that wrought the Counties rage If thou beest mightie King Marsillus , For whom the Countie would aduenture life : Reuenge it on the false Angelica . Mar: Trust me Orgalio , Theseus in his rage , Did neuer more reuenge his wrongd Hyppolitus , Than I will on the false Angelica . Goe to my Court , and drag me Medor forth Teare from his brest the daring villaines hart , Next take that base and damnd adulteresse , ( I scorne to title her with daughters name : ) Put her in rags , and like some shepheardesse , Exile her from my kingdome presently , Delay not good Orgalio , see it done . Exit Orgalio . Enter a souldier with Mandricard disguised How now my frend , what fellow hast thou there ? Soul: He sayes my Lord that hee is seruant vnto Mandricard . Mar: To Mandricard ? It fits me not to sway the Diademe , Or rule the wealthy Realmes of Barbarie , To staine my thoughts with any cowardise . Thy master bravde me to my teeth , He backt the Prince of Cuba for my foe , For which not he nor his shall scape my hands . No souldier , thinke me resolute as hee . Man: It greeues me much that Princes disagree , Sith blacke repentance followeth afterward . But leauing that , pardon me gracious Lord . Mar: For thou intreatst and newly art arrivd , And yet thy sword is not imbrewd in blood , Vpon conditions I will pardon thee ; That thou shalt neuer tell thy master Mandricard , Nor anie fellow soldier of the campe , That King Marsillus licenst thee depart : He shall not thinke I am so much his frend , That he or one of his shall scape my hand . Man: I swear my Lord , & vow to keep my word . Mar: Then take my banderoll of red , Mine , and none but mine shall honor thee , And safe conduct thee to port Catthagene . Man: But say my Lord , if Mandricard were here What fauor should he finde or life or death ? Mar: I tell thee frend , it fits not for a King To prize his wrath before his curtesie . Were Mandricard the King of Mexico In prison here , and cravde but libertie ; So little hate hangs in Marsillus breast , As one intreatie should quite race it out . But this concernes not thee , therefore farewell . Exit Marsillus . Man: Thankes & good fortune fall to such a king , thee As couets to be counted curteous . Blush Mandricard , the honor of thy foe disgraceth Thou wrongest him that wisheth thee but well Thou bringest store of men from Mexico To battaile him that scornes to iniure thee , Pawning his colours for thy warrantize . Backe to thy ships , and hie thee to thy home , Bouge not a foote to aid Prince Rodomant , But frendly gratulate these fauors found , And mediate on nought but to be frends . Exit Enter Orlando attired like a mad-man . Orl:

Woods , trees , leaues ; leaues , trees , woods : tria sequuntur tria . Ho Minerua , salve , God morrow how doo you to day ? Tell me sweet Goddesse , will Ioue send Mercury to Calipso to let mee goe . Will he ? why then hee s a Gentleman euerie haire a the head on him . But ho Orgalio , where art thou boy ?

Org:

Here my Lord , did you call mee ?

Orl:

No , nor name thee .

Org:

Then God be with you .

Orgalio proffers to goe in . Orl:

Nay pree good Orgalio stay , Canst thou not tell me what to say ?

Org:

No by my troth .

Orl:

O this it is , Angelica is dead .

Org:

Why then she shall be buried .

Orl:

But my Angelica is dead .

Org:

Why it may be so .

Orl:

But shee s dead and buried .

Org:

I , I thinke so .

Orl:

Nothing but I thinke so , and it may be so .

He beateth him . Org:

What doo ye meane my Lord ?

Orl:

Why shall I tell you that my Loue is dead , and can ye not weep for her .

Org:

Yes yes my Lord I will .

Orl:

Well doo so then . Orgalio .

Org:

My Lord .

Orl:

Angelica is dead . Orgalio cries . Ah , poore slaue , so , crie no more now .

Org:

Nay I haue quickly done .

Orl:

Orgalio .

Org:

My Lord .

Orl:

Medors Angelica is dead .

Orgalio cries , and Orlando beats him againe Org:

Why doo ye beat me my Lord ?

Orl:

Why slaue , wilt thou weep for Medors Anlica , thou must laugh for her .

Org:

Laugh ? yes , I le laugh all day and you will .

Orl.

Orgalio .

Org:

My Lord .

Orl:

Medors Angelica is dead .

Org:

Ha ha ha ha .

Orl:

So , t is well now .

Org:

Nay this is easier than the other was .

Orl:

Now away , seek the hearb Moly , for I must to hell , to seeke for Medor and Angelica .

Org:

I know not the hearb Moly ifaith .

Orl:

Come I le lead ye to it by the eares .

Org:

T is here my Lord , t is here .

Orl:

T is indeed , now to Charon , bid him dresse his boat , for he had neuer such a passenger .

Org:

Shall I tell him your name ?

Exit . Orl:

No , then he will be afraid , & not be at home .

Enter two Clownes . Tho:

Sirra Rafe , and thou lt goe with me I le let thee see the brauest mad man that euer thou sawst .

Rafe .

Sirra Tom : I beleeue t was he that was at our towne a sunday , I le tell thee what he did sirra : he came to our house , when all our folkes were gone to Church , and there was no bodie at home but I , & I was turning of the spit , and he comes in , & bad me fetch him some drinke . Now I went and fetcht him some , & ere I came againe , by my troth he ran away with the rost-meate spit and all , & so we had nothing but porredge to dinner .

Thomas .

By my troth that was braue , but sirrha he did so course the boyes last sunday : and if ye call him mad-man , hee l run after you , & tickle your ribs so with his flap of leather that he hath as it passeth .

They spie Orlando . Rafe

Oh Tom looke where he is , call him mad-man .

Tom.

Mad-man , mad-man .

Rafe :

Mad-man , mad-man .

Orl:

What saist thou villaine ? He beateth them . So now you shall be both my Souldiers .

Tom :

Your soldiers , we shall haue a mad Captaine then .

Orl:

You must fight against Medor .

Raf :

Yes let me alone with him for a bloody nose .

Orl:

Come then and I le giue you weapons strait ,

Exeunt omnes . Enter Angelica like a poore woman . An: Thus causeles banisht from thy natiue home , Here sit Angelica and rest a while , For to bewaile the fortunes of thy loue . Enter Rodamant and Brandemart with Souldiers . Roda: This way she went , & far she cannot be . Brand: See where she is my Lord , speak as if you knew her not . Ro: Faire shepherdesse for so thy fitting seemes , Or Nymph for lesse thy beauty cannot be : What feede you sheepe vpon these downes ? Ange: Daughter I am vnto a bordering Swaine , That tend my flocks within these shady groues . Roda. Fond gyrle thou liest , thou art Angelica . Brand: I thou art shee that wrongd the Palatine . Ange: For I am knowne albeit I am disguisde , Yet dare I turne the lie into thy throte , Sith thou reportst I wrongd the Palatine . Brand:

Nay then thou shalt be vsed according to thy deserts , come bring her to our Tents .

Roda: But stay what Drum is this ? Enter Orlando with a Drum , and souldiers with spits and dripping-pans . Br: Now see Angelica the fruits of all your loue . Orl: Souldiers , this is the Citie of great Babilon , Where proud Darius was rebated from , Play but the men and I will lay my head , Wee le sacke and raze it ere the sunne be set . Clowne : Yea and scratch it too , March faire fellow frying-pan . Orl:

Orgalio , knowst thou the cause of my laughter ?

Org:

No by my troth , nor no wise-man else .

Orl:

Why sirra to thinke that if the enemie were fled ere we come , wee le not leaue one of our own souldiers aliue , for wee two will kill them with our fists .

Rafe :

Fo come let s goe home againe , hee le set Probatum est vpon my headpeece anon .

Orl:

No , no , thou shalt not be hurt , nor thee , Backe souldiers , looke where the enemie is .

Tom :

Captaine , they haue a woman amongst them .

Orl:

And what of that ?

Tom :

Why strike you downe the men , and then let me alone to thrust in the woman .

Orl: No I am challenged the single fight , Syrra , i st you challenge me the combate . Brand: Franticke companion , lunatick & wood , Get thee hence , or else I vow by heauen , Thy madnes shall not priuiledge thy life . Orl: I tell thee villaine Medor wrongd me so , Sith thou art come his Champion to the field , I le learne thee know I am the Palatine . Alarum : They fight , Orlando kills Brandemart , and all the rest flie but Angelica . Org:

Looke my Lord here s one kild .

Orl:

Who kild him ?

Org:

You my Lord I thinke .

Orl:

I ? No , no , I see who kild him .

He goeth to Angelica and knowes her not .

Come hither gentle sir , whose prowesse hath performde such an act , thinke not the curteous Palatine will hinder that thine Honour hath atchieude , Orgalio fetch me a sword , that presently this squire may be dubd a Knight .

Ange: Thankes gentle Fortune that sendes mee such good hap , Rather to die by him I love so deare , Than live and see my Lord thus lunaticke . Org:

Here my Lord .

Orl: If thou beest come of Lancelots worthy line welcome thou art , Kneele downe sir Knight , rise vp sir Knight , Here take this sword , and hie thee to the fight . Exit Angelica . Now tell me Orgalio , what dost thou thinke , Will not his Knight proue a valiant Squire ? Org:

He cannot chuse being of your making

Orl:

But where s Angelica now ?

Org:

Faith I cannot tell .

Orl: Villaine find her out , Or else the torments that Ixion feeles , The rolling stone , the tubs of the Belides , Villaine wilt thou finde her out . Org: Alas my Lord , I know not where she is . Orl: Run to Charlemaine , spare for no cost , Tell him Orlando sent for Angelica . Org:

Faith I le fetch you such an Angelica as you neuer saw before .

Exit Orgalio . Orl: As though that Sagittarius in his pride , Could take braue Laeda from stout Iupiter ? And yet forsooth Medor , base Medor durst Attempt to reue Orlando of his loue . Sirra , you that are the messenger of Ioue , You that can sweep it through the milke white path That leads vnto the Senate house of Mars . Fetch me my shield temperd of purest steele , My helme forgd by the Cyclops for Anchises sonne , And see if I dare not combat for Angelica . Enter Orgalio with the Clowne drest lyke Angelica . Org:

Come away , and take heed you laugh not .

Cl:

No I warrant you , but I thinke I had best go backe and shaue my beard .

Org:

Tush , that will not be seene .

Cl:

Well you will giue me the halfe crowne ye promist me .

Org:

Doubt not of that man .

Cl:

Sirra , didst not see me serue the fellow a fine tricke , when we came ouer the market place .

Org:

why , how was that ?

Cl:

Why hee comes to me , and said ; Gentlewoman , wilt please you take a pint or a quart . No Gentlewoman said I , but your frend and Doritie .

Org: Excellent : come see where my Lord is . My Lord , here is Angelica . Orl: Mas thou saist true , t is she indeed ; How fares the faire Angelica ? Cl:

Well I thanke you hartely .

Orl: Why art thou not that same Angelica , Whose hiew as bright as faire Erythea That darkes Canopus with her siluer hiew ? Cl:

Yes forsooth .

Orl: Are not these the beauteous checkes , Wherein the Lillies and the natiue Rose Sits equall suted with a blushing red ? Cl: He makes a garden plot in my face . Orl: Are not my dere those radient eyes , Whereout proud Phoebus flasheth out his beames ? Cl:

Yes , yes , with squibs and crackers brauely .

Orl:

You are Angelica ?

Cl:

Yes marry am I .

Orl:

Where s your sweet heart Medor ?

Cl:

Orgalio , giue me eighteen pence , & let me go .

Orl:

Speake strumpet , speake .

Cl:

Marry sir he is drinking a pint or a quart .

Orl: Why strumpet , worse than Mars his trothlesse loue . Falser than faithles Cresida : strumpet thou shalt not scape . Cl:

Come , come , you doo not vse me like a gentlewoman ; and if I be not for you I am for another .

Orl: Are you , that will I trie . He beateth him out . Exeunt omnes Enter the twelue Peers of France , with drum and trumpets . Og: Braue Peeres of France , sith wee haue past the bounds , Whereby the wrangling billowes seekes for straites To warre with Tellus , and her fruitfull mynes : Sith we haue furrowd through those wandring tides Of Tyrrhene seas , and made our galleys dance Vpon the Hyperborian billowes crests , That braues with streames the watrie Occident : And found the rich and wealthie Indian clime , Sought to by greedie mindes for hurtfull gold . Now let vs seeke to venge the Lampe of France , That lately was eclipsed in Angelica . Now let vs seeke Orlando forth our Peere , Though from his former wits lately estrangd , Yet famous in our fauors as before . And sith by chance we all encountred bee Let seeke reuenge on her that wrought his wrong . Names . But being thus arrivd in place vnknown , Who shall direct our course vnto the Court , Where braue Marsillus keepes his royall State . Enter Marsillus and Mandricard like Palmers . Og: Loe here , two Indian Palmers hard at hand Who can perhaps resolue our hidden doubts . Palmers , God speed . Mar: Lordings , we greet you well . Og: Where lies Marsillus Court , frend canst thou tel . Mar: His Court is his campe , the Prince is now in armes . Turpin . In armes ? What s he that dares annoy so great a King . Man: Such as both loue & furie doth confound , Fierce Sacrepant , incenst with strange desires , Warres on Marsillus , and Rodamant being dead , Hath leuied all his men , and traitor-like Assailes his Lord , and louing soueraigne . And Mandricard who late hath been in armes , To prosecute reuenge against Marsillus , Is now through fauors past become his frend . Thus stands the state of matchles India . Og: Palmer , I like thy braue and breef discourse , And couldst thou bring vs to the Princes campe , We would acknowledge frendship at thy hands . Mar: Ye stranger Lords , why seeke ye out Marsillus ? Og: In hope that he whose Empire is so large , Will make both minde and Monarchie agree . Mar: Whence are you Lords , and what request you here ? Names . A question ouer-hautie for thy weed , Fit for the King himselfe for to propound . Man: O sir , know that vnder simple weeds The Gods haue maskt , then deeme not with disdain To answere to this Palmers question , Whose coat includes perhaps as great as yours . Og: Hautie their words , their persons ful of state , Though habit be but meane , their mindes excell . Well Palmers know that Princes are in India arrivd Yea euen those westerne princely peeres of France , That through the world aduentures vndertake , To find Orlando late incenst with rage . Then Palmers sith you know our stiles and state , Aduise vs where your King Marsillus is . Mar: Lordings of France , here is Marsillus , That bids you welcome into India , And will in person bring you to his campe . Og: Marsillus , and thus disguisd ? Mar: Euen Marsillus , and thus disguisd . But what request these Princes at my hand ? Turpin . We sue for law and iustice at thy hand , We seeke Angelica thy daughter out ; That wanton maid , that hath eclipst the ioy Of royall France , and made Orlando mad . Mar: My daughter Lords , why shee s exilde , And her grieud father is content to lose The pleasance of his age to countnance law . Oli: Not onely exile shall await Angelica , But death and bitter death shall follow her , Then yeeld vs right Marsillus , or our swords Shal make thee feare to wrong the Pieres of France . Mar: Wordes cannot daunt mee Princes bee assurde , But law and iustice shall ouerrule in this , And I will burie fathers name and loue , The haples maide bannisht from out my Land , Wanders about in woods and waies vnknowne , Her if yee finde with furie persecute , I now disdaine the name to be her Father , Lords of France what would you more of me . Oger : Marsillus wee commende thy Princely minde , And will report thy iustice through the world , Come Peeres of France let s seeke Angelica , Left for a spoile to our reuenging thoughts . Exeunt omnes . Enter Orlando like a Poet . Orl: Orgalio , is not my loue like those purple coloured swans , That gallop by the Coach of Cynthia . Org: Yes marry is shee my Lord . Orl: Is not her face siluerd like that milke-white shape , When loue came dauncing downe to Semele . Org: It is my Lord . Then goe thy waies and clime vp to the Clowds , And tell Apollo that Orlando sits , Making of verses for Angelica . And if he doo denie to send me downe The shirt which Deianyra sent to Hercules , To make me braue vpon my wedding day ; Tell him I le passe the Alpes , and vp to Meroe , ( I know he knowes that watrie lakish hill ) And pull the harpe out of the minstrells hands , And pawne it vnto louely Proserpine , That she may fetch the faire Angelica . Org: But my Lord Apollo is a sleepe & will not heare me , Orl:

Then tell him he is a sleepy knaue :

But sirra let no body trouble mee , for I must lie downe a while and talke with the starres .

Enter Fidler . Org:

What old acquaintance well met .

Fidler .

Ho you would haue me play Angelica againe , would ye not ?

Org:

Not , but I can tell thee where thou mayest earne two or three shillings this morning , euen with the turning of a hand .

Fidler :

Two or three shillinges , tush thou wot cossen me thou , but and thou canst tell where I may earne a groate , I le giue thee sixe pence for thy paines .

Org:

Then play a fit of mirth to my Lord .

Fid:

Why he is mad still is he not .

Org:

No , no , come play .

Fidler .

At which side dooth he vse to giue his reward .

Org:

Why of anie side .

Fidler .

Doth he not vse to throw the chamber pot sometimes ? T would greeue me he should wet my fiddle strings .

Org:

Tush I warrant thee .

He playes and sings any odde toy , and Orlando wakes . Orl:

Who is this , Shan Cuttelero ? hartely welcome , Shan Cuttelero .

Fidler .

No sir , you should haue said Shan the Fidideldero .

Orl:

What , hast thou brought me my sword ?

He takes away his fiddle . Fidler .

A sword ? No no sir , that s my fiddle .

Orl:

But dost thou think the temper to be good And will it hold , when thus and thus we Medor do assaile ?

He strikes and beates him with the fiddle . Fidler . Lord sir , you le breake my liuing . You told me your master was not mad . Orl: Tel me , why hast thou mard my sword ? The pummell s well , the blade is curtald short . Villaine why hast thou made it so , Fidler . O Lord Sir , will you answere this ? He breakes it about his head . Exit Fidler . Enter Melissa with a glasse of Wine . Orl.

Orgalio who is this ?

Orga.

Faith my Lord some old witch I thinke .

Mel. O that my Lord woulde but conceit my tale . Then would I speake and hope to finde redresse . Orl: Faire Polixena , the pride of Illion , Feare not Achilles ouer-madding boy , Pyrrus shall not , &c. Sounes Orgalio , why sufferest thou this old trot to come so nigh me ? Orga: come , come , stand by , your breath stinkes . Orl: What , be all the Trogians fled , Then giue me some drinke . Mel: Here Palatine drinke , and euer be thou better for this draught . Orl: What here the paltrie bottle that Darius quaft , Hee drinkes , and she charmes him with her wand , and lies downe to sleepe . Else would I set my mouth to Tygres streames , And drinke vp ouerflowing Euphrates , My eyes are heauie , and I needs must sleep .

Melissa striketh with her wande , and the Satyres enter with musicke and plaie round about him , which done , they staie , he awaketh and speakes .

What shewes are these that fill mine eies With view of such regard as heauen admires , To see my slumbring dreames , Skies are fulfild with lampes of lasting ioy , That boast the pride of haught Latonas sonne , He lightneth all the candles of the night . Nymosene hath kist the kingly Ioue , And entertaind a feast within my brains , Making her daughter solace on my brow , Mee thinks I feele how Cinthya tunes conceites Of sad repent , and meloweth those desires Which phrensies scares had ripened in my head . Ate I le kisse thy restlesse cheeke a while , And suffer vile repent to bide controll , He lieth downe againe . Mel: O vos Silvani , Satyri , Faunique , Deaque , Nymphae Hamadriades , Driades , Persaeque potentes , O vos qui colttes lacusque laeosque profundos , Infernasque domus , & nigra palatia Ditis : Tuque Demogorgon qui noctis fata gubernas , Qui regis infernum , solemque , solumque , coelumque , Exaudite preces , filiasque auferte micantes , In caput Orlandi coelestes spargite lympus , Spargite , quis misere reuocetur raptator vmbras Orlando infoelix anima . Then let the musicke play before him , and so goe forth . Orl: What sights , what shewes , what fearefull shapes are these ? More dreadfull then appeard to Hecuba , When fall of Troy was figured in her sleepe . Iuno mee thought sent downe from heauen by loue . Came swiftly sweeping through the gloomy aire And calling Fame the Satyres and the nymphs , She gaue them viols full of heauenly dew , With that mounted on her parti-coloured coach Being drawen with peacockes proudly through the aire , She flew with Iris to the sphere of loue . What fearefull thoughts arise upon this show ? What desert groue is this ? How thus disguisde ? Where is Orgalio ? Orgal: Here my Lord . Orl: Sirah , how came I thus disguisde , Like made Orestes quaintly thus disguisd ? Orl:

Like mad Orestes , nay my Lord , you may boldly iustifie the comparison , for Orestes was neuer so mad in his life as you were .

Orl: What was I mad ? What furie hath inchanted me ? Mel: A furie sure worse than Megera was , That reft her sonne from trustie Pilades . Orl: Why , what art thou , some Sybel or some goddesse , freely speake ? Mel: Time not affoords to tell each circumstance ? But thrice hath Cynthia changde her hiew Since thou infected with a lunasie , Hast gadded vp and downe these lands & groues Performing strange and ruthfull stratagemes , All for the loue of faire Angelica , Whome thou with Medor didst suppose plaide false , But Sacrepant had grauen these rundelaies , To sting thee with infecting iealousie ; The swaine that tolde thee of their oft conuerse , Was seruant vnto Countie Sacrepant , And trust me Orlando , Angelica though true to thee , Is banisht from the court , And Sacrepnat this daie bids battel to Marsillius The armies readie are to giue assaile , And on a hill that ouerpeeres them both , Stands all the worthie matchles peeres of France Who are in quest to seeke Orlando out . Muse not at this , for I haue tolde thee true , I am she that cured thy disease , Here take these weapons giuen thee by the fates , And hie thee Countie to the battell straight . Or: Thanks sacred Goddes for thy helping hand Thether will I hie to be reuengd . Alarmes . Exit . Enter Sacrepant crowned , and pursuing Marsillus and Mandrecard . Sacre: Viceroyes you are dead , For Sacrepant alreadie crownd a king , Heaues up his sword to have your diadems . Mar: Traitor , not dead , or anie wit dismaide , For deare we prize the smallest droppe of bloud . Enter Orlando with a scarfe before his face . Orl: Stay Princes , base not your selues to cumbat such a dog . Mount on your coursers , follow those that flie , And let your conquering swoordes be tainted in their blouds Passe ye , for him he shall be combatted . Exit Kings . Sac: Why what art thou that brauest me thus ? Orl: I am thou seest a mercenarie souldier Homely , yet of such haughtie thoughts ; As noght can serue to quench th' aspiring thoghtes That burnes as doe the fires of Cicely , Vnlesse I win that princely diademe , That seemes so ill vppon thy cowards head . Sac. Coward . To armes sir boy , I will not brooke these braues , If Mars himselfe euen from his firie throne , Came armde with all his furnitures of warre . They fight . Oh villaine , thou hast slaine a prince . Orl: Then maist thou think that Mars himself Came down to vaile thy plumes , and heaue thee from thy pompe . Proud that thou art , I recke not of thy gree , But I will haue the conquest of my sword , Which is the glorie of thy diadem . Sac: These words bewraie thou art no base born moore , But by descent sprong from some roiall line , Then freely tell me what s thy name . Orl: Nay first let me know thine ? Sac: Then know that thou hast slaine Prince Sacrepant . Orl: Sacrepant . Then let me at thy dying day intreate , By that same sphere wherein thy soule shall rest , If loue denie not passage to thy ghost , Thou tell mee whether thou wrongdst Angelica or no . Sac: O that s the sting that pricks my conscience Oh that s the hell my thoughts abhorre to thinke , I tel thee knight , for thou doest seeme no lesse , That I ingravde the rundelaies on the trees , And hung the sedulet of poore Medors loue , Intending so to breed debate , Betweene Orlando and Angelica , O thus I wrongd Orlando and Angelica . Now tell me what shall I call thy name . Orl: Then dead is the fatall authour of my ill , Base villaine , vassall , vnworthie of a crowne , Knowe that the man that strucke the fatall stroke , Is Orlando the Countie Palatine , Whome fortune sent to quittance all my wrongs Thou foild and slain , it now behoues me straight To hie me fast to massacre thy men , And so farewell thou deuill in shape of man . Exit . Sac: Hath Demogorgon ruler of the fates , Set such a balefull period on my life , As none might end the daies of Sacrepant , But mightie Orlando riuall of my loue , Now holdeth the fatall murderers of men , The sharpned knife readie to cut my threed , Ending the scene of all my tragedie , This daie , this houre , this minute ends the daies Of him that liude worthie olde Nestors age . Phoebus put on thy fable suted wreath , Cladde all thy spheres in darke and mourning weedes . Parcht be the earth to drinke vp euery spring , Let corne and trees be blasted from aboue , Heauen turne to brasse , & earth to wedge of steel The worlde to cinders , Mars come thundering downe , And neuer sheath thy swift reuenging swoorde , Till like the deluge in Dewcalions daies , The higgest mountaines swimme in streames of bloud . Heauen , earth , men , beasts , & euerie liuing thing Consume and end with countie Sacrepant . he dyes . Enter Marsillus , Mandrecard , and twelue peeres with Angelica . Mar. Fought is the field , & Sacrepant is slaine , With such a massacre of all his men , As Mars descending in his purple robe , Vowes with Bellona in whole heapes of bloud To banquet all the demie gods of warre . Mandr. See where hee lies slaughtered without the campe , And by a simple swaine , a mercenarie , Who brauely tooke the combat to himselfe , Might I but know the man that did the deede , I would my Lord eternize him with fame . Oger : Leauing the factious countie to his death , Command my Lord his bodie be conuaid Vnto some place as likes your Highnes best , See Marsillus poasting thorough Affrica , We haue found this stragling girle Angelica , Who for she wrongd her loue Orlando Chiefest of the Westerne peeres , Conuersing with so meane a man as Medor was , We will haue her punisht by the lawes of France , To end her burning lust in flames of fire . Mar. Beshrew you lordings but you doe your worst . Fire , famine , and as cruell death , As fell to Neros mother in his rage . Angelica . Father , if I may dare to call thee so , And Lordes of France come from the Westerne seas . In quest to finde mightie Orlando out , Yet ere I die let me haue leaue to say , Angelica held euer in her thoughts , Most deare the loue of Countie Palatine : What wretch hath wrongd vs with suspect of loue , I know not I , nor can accuse the man : But by the heauens whereto my soule shall flie , Angelica did neuer wrong Orlando . I speake not this as one that cares to liue , For why , my thoughts are fully malecontent , And I coniure you by your Chiualrie , You quit Orlandos wrong vpon Angelica . Enter Orlando with a scarfe before his face . Oliuer : Strumpet feare not , for by faire Mayas sonne , This day thy soule shall vanish vp in fire , As Semele when Iuno wild the trull , To entertaine the glorie of her loue . Orl: Frenchman , for so thy quaint aray imports , Be thou a Piere , or be thou Charlemaine , Or hadst thou Hector or Achilles hart , Or neuer daunted thoughts of Hercules , That did in courage far surpasse them all , I tell thee sir , thou liest in thy throate , The greatest braue transalpine France can brooke , In saying that sacred Angelica , Did offer wrong vnto the Palatine : I am a common mercenary souldier , Yet for I see my Princesse is abusd By new come straglers from a forren coast , I dare the proudest of these westerne Lords To cracke a blade in triall of her right . Mam: Why foolish hardie daring simple groome , Follower of fond conceited Phaeton : Knowest thou to whom thou speakst ? Mar: Braue souldier ( for so much thy courage These men are princes , dipt within the blood ( saies ) Of Kings most royall , seated in the West , Vnfit to accept a challenge at your hand . Yet thankes that thou wouldst in thy Lords defence Fight for my daughter , but her guilt is knowne . Ang: I , rest thee souldier , Angelica is false , False , for she hath no triall of her right : Souldier , let me die for the misse of all . Wert thou as stout as is proud Theseus , In vaine thy blade should offer my defence : For why , these be the champions of the world , Twelue Peeres of France that neuer yet were foild . Orl: How Madam , the twelue Peeres of France ? Why let them be twelue diuels of hell : What I haue said I le pawne my sword To seale it on the shield of him that dares Malgrado of his honor combat me . Oliuer . Marrie sir , that dare I . Orl: Y ar a welcome man sir . Turpin . Chastise the groome ( Oliuer ) & learne him know , We are not like the boyes of Africa . Orl: Heare you sir : You that so peremptorily bad him fight , Prepare your weapons for your turne is next , T is not one Champion that can discourage me , Come are yee ready . He fighteth first with one , and then with another , and ouercomes them both . So stand aside , and Maddam if my fortune last it out , I le gard your person with twelue Pieres of France . Og: Oh Oger how canst thou stand & see a slaue Disgrace the house of France : Syrra prepare you , For angry Nemesis sits on my sword to be reuengd . Orl:

Well saide Frenchman , you haue made a goodly oration : But you had best to vse your sword better , lest I beswinge you .

They fight a good while and then breath . Og: How so ere disguisd in base or Indian shape , Oger can well discerne thee by thy blowes , For either thou art Orlando or the diuell . Orl: Then to assure you that I am no diuel , Here s your friend and companion Orlando . Oger : And none can be more glad than Oger is That he hath found his Cosen in his sense . Oli: When as I felt his blowes vpon my shield , My teeth did chatter and my thoughts conceiude , Who might this be if not the Pallatine . Turpin : So had I said , but that report did tell , My Lord was troubled with a lunacie . Orl: So was I Lordinges : but giue mee leaue a while , Humbly as Mars did to his Paramour , So to submit to faire Angelica . Pardon thy Lord , faire saint Angelica , Whose loue stealing by steps into extreames , Grew by suspition to a causeles lunacie . Angelica : O no my Lord , but pardon my amis , For had not Orlando lovde Angelica Nere had my Lord falne into these extreames , Which we will parle priuate to our selues : Nere was the Queene of Cypres halfe so glad , As is Angelica to see her Lord , Her deare Orlando settled in his sense . Orlando : Thankes my sweete loue . But why stands the Prince of Affrica , And Mandrecarde the King of Mexico , So deepe in dumps when all reioyse beside : First know my Lord , I slaughtred Sacrepant , I am the man that did the slaue to death , Who frankely there did make confesion , That he ingravde the Roundelaies on the trees , And hung the schedules of poore Medors loue , Entending by suspect to breede debate , Deepely twixt me and faire Angelica : His hope had hap but we had all the harme , And now Reuenge leaping from out the seate , Of him that may command sterne Nemesis , Hath powrde those treasons iustly on his head . What saith my gratious Lord to this ? Marsillus : I stand amazde , deepe ouerdrencht with ioy , To heare and see this vnexpected ende , So well I rest content yee Pieres of France , Sith it is provde Angelica is cleare , Her and my Crowne I freely will bestow , Vpon Orlando the County Palatine . Orl: Thanks my good Lord , & now my friends of France , Frollicke , be merrie , we wil hasten home , So soone as King Marsillus will consent , To let his daughter wend with vs to France , Meane while wee le richly rigge vp all our Fleete , More braue than was that gallant Grecian keele , That brought away the Colchyan fleece of gold . Our Sailes of sendall spread into the winde , Our ropes and tacklings all of finest silke , Fetcht from the natiue loomes of laboring wormes , The pride of Barbarie , and the glorious wealth , That is transported by the Westerne bounds : Our stems cut out of gleming Iuorie , Our planks and sides framde out of Cypresse wood , That beares the name of Cyparissus change , To burst the billows of the Ocean Sea , Where Phoebus dips his amber-tresses oft , And kisses Thetis in the daies decline , That Neptune prowd shall call his Trytons forth , To couer all the Ocean with a calme : So rich shall be the rubbish of our barkes , Tane here for ballas to the ports of France , That Charles himselfe shall wonder at the sight . Thus Lordings when our bankettings be done , And Orlando espowsed to Angelica , Wee le furrow through the mouing Ocean , And cherely frolicke with great Charlemaine . FINIS .