For love one must look there to the ties of loyalty between vassal and lord and to the comradeship between fighting-men, with its moving tone of grave and formal courtesy: ‘Fair sir, companion’.

In romance, on the other hand, love luxuriates like an overgrown plant. Women are everywhere, on horseback as warriors, indistinguishable from the men until their helmets are knocked off and their golden hair streams out, as damsels in distress, requiring to be rescued, continually distracting the knights from their primary responsibilities, as symbols of self-indulgence, as sorceresses, good or evil, or as inspirations to valour. The element of amorousness offered variety of plot and characterization and had, moreover, a respectable ancestry in the Odyssey and the Iliad. It enabled the poet to show the knights in contrast one with another, constant or inconstant as lovers, sensualist or idealist, capable of reformation or lost for ever in the toils of a seductress.

ii. CELTIC (ARTHURIAN)

The chief source of this element of amorousness, apart from the Greek and Roman epics, is the Arthurian cycle of legends. These were appreciated particularly, though not exclusively, in courtly circles, and Dante appropriately imagines Francesca, the wife of the lord of Rimini, reading the story of Lancelot and Guinevere, the corrupting influence of which led to her undoing.1 Among the French texts which had most influence are Palamède and Tristan. Rusticiano of Pisa, who wrote up the memoirs of Marco Polo, refashioned a great deal of the material of these two romances in his work entitled Meliadus, which dates from about 1275. In the Arthurian cycle of stories the atmosphere is mystical and mysterious. The knights of the Round Table, more sensual and emotional than the Carolingians, seem more concerned with winning the approval of their ladies than with defeating the infidel, though often the two achievements are combined. Their adventures, being individual, require a different shape of story: instead of battle, there is the duel; instead of the crowd-movements of armies and general mêlées, there is a preference for the wanderings of the lonely knight-errant, in the dream world of the irrational.

An intermingling of Arthurian with Carolingian elements was evident already in Pulci’s poem and in others which preceded it. The introduction of sorcerers, monsters and giants, in addition to the perils of enamourment, reinforced the powers of evil ranged against the cavaliers, whose ordeals became ever more fabulous and exotic. It was Boiardo who first consciously and deliberately combined the two cycles of legends, proclaiming the element of amorousness from the outset in the very title of his work, Orlando Innamorato (Orlando in Love). He wrote it for the Estensi, following the example of Nicola of Verona, who had dedicated his Prise de Pampelune to Niccolò d’Este in 1343. There was thus already a traditional cult of the legends at the court of Ferrara, and it is said that the library contained a fine collection of romances in both French and Italian. The level of art and learning, the interest in chivalry, and the staging of tournaments and pageants made Ferrara a propitious centre for the creation of a masterpiece in this genre. Boiardo was a loyal courtier. He served Duke Ercole I in various capacities and was entrusted with high office. In 1481 he was appointed Governor of Modena and in 1487 Governor of Reggio. He was one of the suite who brought the Duke’s bride, Eleanor of Aragon, from Naples to Ferrara. Among his admirers was the Duke’s daughter, Isabella d’Este, to whom Ariosto was later to read some of his own epic aloud.

The framework of the action is still Carolingian, and Roland is still the main character; but distant, exotic vistas are at once unfolded. While Charlemagne holds plenary court at Whitsuntide, the son and daughter of the Great Khan, Argalia and Angelica, arrive from Cathay, equipped with supernatural powers and magical weapons, to bring havoc and confusion to the Christians. Angelica’s beauty causes such rivalry among the knights that they scatter in pursuit of her, leaving Charlemagne inadequately defended.

The love, or the desire, inspired by Angelica is the thread which links the main characters of this immense poem. Thus Boiardo puts sexual love in the place of religion as the supreme, irradiating force in life, a change which reflects the concentration on earthly existence which was one of the features of the Renaissance. Angelica is the reason for the siege of Albracca, where she has taken refuge to avoid marriage with the besieger, Agricane, King of Tartary; she is also the reason why Orlando and Rinaldo hurry back to France to defend the kingdom of Charlemagne against the invading armies of Agramante. Intertwined with these two major events are innumerable episodes, interludes and sub-plots. At any moment Orlando may wander off to kill a giant or a monster, to destroy an enchanted garden, or to fall into some enchantment himself from which he needs to be rescued. Yet in the midst of so much elaborate embroidery, some of the original threads shine through.

In the final encounter between Orlando and Agricane there is a glimpse of that endearing simplicity of faith and chivalrous courtesy which characterize the Roland of the Chanson. By pretending flight, Agricane draws Orlando away from the battlefield before Albracca to a meadow by a wood, with a fountain on one side; then he explains that he has done so in order to give Orlando a chance of saving himself, in return for courtesy which Orlando has shown to him earlier in the day. He may escape now if he will withdraw from the fight before Albracca:

Orlando answered in a gentle tone,

Such deep compassion on his spirit fell:

‘The greater worth and valour you have shown,

The more I pity you, who know full well

That you will die and yet have never known

The faith in Christ, but must be doomed to Hell.

If you in body and in soul would thrive,

Then be baptized and hence depart alive.’1

But Agricane refuses this kind offer and challenges Orlando to a duel. When the sun goes down and they can no longer see to continue the combat, they lie down side by side:

To this accord they came without delay

And both dismounted and their horses tied,

And on the grassy sward together lay

As though in friendship and long peace allied,

So close in one another’s sight were they;

Orlando nearer to the fountain side,

And Agrican lay nearer to the wood,

Where a tall pine with shady branches stood.1

Orlando looks up at the sky and says:

‘ ’Tis a right glorious work that we behold,

This that the heavenly monarchy has made;

The moon all silver and the stars all gold,

The light of day, the sun’s far-shining face:

All this has God made for the human race.’2

And Agricane, with the resigned tone of experience in his voice, replies: ‘I see you want to talk about religion.’ And for a while they do, until Agricane says, ‘Sleep now, or else if you must talk, talk of arms or of love.’ The duel is resumed the next morning and when Orlando has inflicted a mortal wound on his enemy, Agricane asks to be baptized:

‘Baptize me in this fountain’s water, knight,

Before the power of speech be wholly passed,

And if in life I wandered from the right,

Let me not die as one from God outcast.’3

Orlando helps him to dismount, and weeps as he does so:

Fast down his cheeks the tears of sorrow ran,

And, leaping from his saddle to the ground,

He lifted in his arms the dying man

And set him gently on the stone around

The fountain; long he wept with Agrican,

Craving his pardon for that deadly wound,

Then, humbly praying to the heavenly king

To grant him grace, baptized him at the spring.4

Boiardo’s poem is unfinished and it is not known how he would have ended it.