Speaking of "Orlando Furioso":
Canto VIII: 51-61: Of Proteus and the tribute of maidens
Before I tell you more, I need to veer/ From my present course a little while.
For, if towards the West you were to steer/ Past Ireland’s coast, you’d come upon an isle.
Ebuda, it is called; scant folk appear/ On those shores, for the orca, we revile,
And other sea-creatures, denude the place:/ Old Proteus takes vengeance on that race.
The ancient legends, whether false or true,/ Say that once a powerful king ruled there,
Who had a daughter; she so fair to view,/ So graceful, tis no wonder that, whene’er
She was seen, Proteus would burn anew,/ Midst the waters, while she took the air,
And, finding her alone one day, defiled/ The helpless maiden, and left her with child.
This rape was a torment to the father,/ Viler, more impious than aught he knew.
No excuse, no pity, quenched his anger,/ Such was its force, against his own issue.
Nor did her state persuade him to defer/ Her punishment which he did swift pursue;
For he condemned her and the child to death,/ Before the babe had taken its first breath.
Now Proteus, who nurtures his great herd/ Of sea-creatures for the god of the sea,
Mighty Neptune, of her sad plight had word,/ And in his anger, quite unlawfully,
Against that isle his ocean monsters stirred,/ (Orcas, and sharks, and whate’er else may be
Lurking beneath the waves) to slay them all,/ Herds, flocks, and people, at his martial call.
And then in force he did assault the place,/ Each town or village, and lay siege around,
Where fearful and weary folk must face/ A tedious watch to secure their ground.
Abandoning their livelihoods, that race/ As a last recourse, then agreed to sound
The oracle, for counsel; by and by,/ It spoke to them, and yielded this reply:
That they must find a maiden in that land/ Who was equal in beauty to the other;
And offer her to Proteus, on the strand,/ In exchange for slaying the king’s daughter.
And if he thought her, once she was at hand,/ As fair, he would keep her, and no longer
Attack the isle; if not, they must provide/ Another, till that sea god found a bride.
And so, the deadly custom commenced,/ Whereby a maiden who was fair of face,
Was led to Proteus each day, from thence,/ Till one seemed pleasing, in her looks and grace.
The others were but prey, without defence,/ Fed to a giant orca, that kept place
Beside the port, and patrolled the shore,/ Till the sea god left the isle once more.
Whether the legend be false or true,/ (For there is none I know of who could say)
Such a tribute had been offered, when due,/ (A vile crime against woman) to that day,
Enshrined in law by that impious crew;/ The monstrous orca fed on maids, I say.
Though to be a woman brings, everywhere,/ Trouble and oppression, twas far worse there.
O unhappy maids whom misfortune brought/ To that unhappy land, and dire distress!
For that folk ever some stranger sought/ On whom to perpetrate their wickedness,
Since the more maids from elsewhere that were caught/ In their snare, by so much their toll was less.
Yet since the breezes oft brought none to shore,/ On every foreign strand they looked for more.
In frigates, galleys, in whate’er would float,/ They roamed about the seas, and gathered in
All the maids that they found, that seemed of note,/ To aid their tribute, dire as was the sin.
Some they took by force into their boat,/ Some by flattery, stealth, or gold did win,
And plundering thus, from the wider region/ Filled up every tower, and every prison.
Voyaging, one day, from land to land,/ They came upon that solitary shore
Where Angelica slept, upon the strand,/ Midst tufts of grass, but on a stony floor.
For water, and what wood there lay to hand,/ Those pirates landed, to refill their store;
Thus, the fairest flower of earthly charms/ They found there, in the holy father’s arms.
)
