As when from squall, or other chance, a barge

  Drives from the river-side, where late it lay,

  Under no mariner or pilot's charge,

  The winds and waves at will transport their prey;

  So Rabican with Bradamant, at large,

  — She musing on Rogero — wends his way.

  For thence, by many miles, was distant wide

  That mind which should her courser's bridle guide.