The Beginning of the Story - Page 21 of 25

321   Sentenced to die, for she would dare
To spurn the emir's lust, and there
The Muslim's vicious nature bare,
He'd even slapped the maiden fair.

322   Rope 'round here hands, I loosed straightways,
Which showed her nor respect nor grace;
My fingers careful lest they gaze
The skin that claimed to honor's place.

323   A gracious look received I here,
Balm for my heart afflicted sheer,
The first time feeling blessed to hear
From Laura's lips: 'Florante, dear.'

324   The worthy king in jail was thrown;
My loved father, too... This known,
I hurled my forces forth – till shown
Albania was again our own.

325   On entering the kingdom, we
Went to the prison first, to free
The king, and Father, dear to me;
Adolph, and high nobility.

326   The monarch's joy naught could exceed,
And of the nobles we had freed.
Adolph alone was sore; indeed,
Caused by the praise that fell my meed.

327   The more his envy's fulmination,
Savior' becoming my appellation.
And then, His Highness' celebration
Within the palace, all elation

328   Too, well he saw how dear I sood
To her, the charming one he wooed;
Give all his life, Count Adolph would,
To win the crown and Laura sued.

329   The old seed grew, from Athens tended –
Desire to see my weal sore-rended.
For him, no gall was bitterer blended
Than that my life should not have ended.

330   Not long the months of countrywide
Thanks for Freedom, with joy allied,
Invaders from the Turkish side –
The grasping Turks – were soon descried.

331   Hereat, the country's dread, their cry,
This realm redeemed – so recent, aye!
Laura most grieved, for fear that I
In combat might, ill-fated die.

332   Since the king bade me to depart
As general, the Moors to thwart,
The realm was reassured... Apart,
Adolph seemed poisoned at the heart. ^[25]

333   Heaven granted that I should win
Over the great Miramolin,
Who struck Albania's terror in
His avaricious Turkish kin.

334   All battles with the enemy
Brought me in turn fresh vistory.
Yea, for my sword, as brave could be,
Seventeen kings respected me.

335   One day, another vict'ry scored
Up in Aetolia, battle-gored,
I got word from my king and lord
To hie me back, Albania-ward.

336   The troops in my command to stay
Under Menander. Right that day,
I left Aetolia, to obey
My king: Albania was my way.