Nought can result to Bradamant but pain, Whatever is the doubtful combat's end.
She will not think Rogero can be slain;
For this, 'twould seem, her very heart would rend;
And should our Lord the fall of France ordain, That kingdom for more sins than one to amend, The gentle maid, beside a brother's loss, Would have to weep a worse and bitterer cross.
