GODFREY of Boulogne, or The recovery of Jerusalem.  
Done into English heroical verse, by EDWARD FAIREFAX Gent.  
Imprinted at London by Ar. Hatfield, for I. Jaggard and M. Lownes.  
1600   

To her High majesty.  

WIts rich triumph, wisdoms glory,  
Arts chronicle, learning's story,  
Tower of goodness, virtue, beauty:  
Forgive me, that presume to lay  
My labours in your clear eyes ray:  
This boldness springs from faith, zeal, duty.   

Her hand, her lap, her vestures hem,  
Muse touch not for polluting them,  
All that is hers is pure, clear, holy,  
Before her footstool humble lie,  
So may she bless thee with her eye,  
The sun shines not on good things solely.   

Olive of peace, angel of pleasure,  
What line of praise can your worth measure?  
Calm sea of bliss which no shore boundeth,  
Fame fills the world no more with lies,  
But busied in your histories  
Her trumpet those true wonders soundeth:   

O Fame, say all the good thou Mayst,  
Too little is that all thou sayst,  
What if herself her self commended?  
Should we then know near known before,  
Whether her wit, or worth were more?  
Ah no! that book would near be ended.   
Your majesties humble subject, EDWARD FAIREFAX.   

The allegory of the Poem.  
Heroical poetry (as a living Creature, wherein two natures are conjoined) is compounded of Imitation and allegory: with the one she allureth unto her the minds and ears of men, and marvelously delighteth them; with the other, either in virtue or knowledge, she instructeth them. And as the heroically written Imitation of an Other, is nothing else, but the pattern and image of human action: so the allegory of an heroical poem is none other than the glass and figure of human life. But Imitation regardeth the Actions of man subjecteth to the outward senses, and about them being principally employed, seeketh to represent them with effectual and expressive phrases, such as lively set before our corporal eyes the things represented: It doth not consider the customs, affections, or discourses of the mind, as they be inward, but only as they come forth thence, and being manifested in words, in deeds, or working, do accompany the Action. On the other side, allegory respecteth the passions, the opinions and customs, not only as they do appear, but principally in their being hidden & inward; and more obscurely doth express them with notes (as a man may say) mystical, such as only the understanders of the nature of things can fully comprehend. Now leaving Imitation apart, we will according to our purpose speak of allegory: which, as the life of man is compound, so it represents to us, sometime the figure of the one, sometime the figure of the other: yet because that commonly by Man, we understand this compound of the body, soul, or mind, and then man's life, is said to be that, which of such compound is proper, in the operations whereof every part thereof concurs, and by working gets that perfection, of the which by her nature she is capable: sometime (although more seldom) by Man is understood, not the compound, but the most noble part, namely the mind; According to this last signification, it may be said, that the life of man is contemplative, and to work simply with the understanding, forasmuch as this life doth seem much to participate of heaven, and as it were changed from humanity, to become angelical. Of the life of the Contemplative Man, the comedy of Dantes and the Odyssees are (as it were) in every part thereof a figure: but the civil life is seen to be shadowed throughout the Iliads, and Aeneids also, although in this there be rather set out a mixture of Action and Contemplation. But since the Contemplative Man is solitary; and the Man of Action liveth in civil company, thence it cometh that Dantes & Ulysses in their departure from Calipse are feigned not to be accompanied of the army, or of a multitude of soldiers, but to departed alone; whereas Agamemnon and Achilles are described, the one general of the Grecian army, the other leader of many troops of Myrmidons, and Aeneas is seen to be accompanied when he fighteth, or doth other civil acts; but when he goeth to hell and the Elysian fields, he leaves his followers, accompanied only with his most faithful friend Achates, who never departed from his side. Neither doth the Poet at random feign that he went alone, for that in his voyage there is signified this only Contemplation of these pains and rewards which in another world are reserved for good or guilty souls. Moreover, the operation of the Understanding speculative, which is the working of one only power, is commodiously figured unto us by the action of one alone: but the Operation political, which proceedeth together from the other powers of the mind (which are as citizens united in one commonwealth) cannot so commodiously be shadowed of Action, wherein many together and to one end working, do not concur. To these reasons, and to these examples I having regard, have made the allegory of my Poem such, as now shall be manifested.  
The Army compounded of divers Princes, and of other Christian soldiers, signifieth Man, compounded of soul and body, and of a soul not simple, but divided into many and divers powers. Jerusalem the strong city placed in a rough and hilly country, whereunto as to the last end, are directed all the enterprises of the faithful army, doth here signify the Civil happiness, which may come to a Christian man (as hereafter shall be declared) which is a good, very difficult to attain unto, and situated upon the top of the Alpine and wearisome hill of virtue; and unto this are turned (as unto the last mark) all the Actions of the politic man. Godfrey, which of all the assembly is chosen chieftain, stands for understanding, & particularly for that understanding, which considereth not the things necessary, but the mutable and which may diversly happen, & those by the will of God. And of Princes he is chose captain of this enterprise, because understanding is of God, and of Nature made Lord over the other virtues of the soul and body, and commands these, one with civil power, the other with royal command. Rinaldo, Tancredie, and the other Princes are in lieu of the other powers of the soul; and the body here becomes notified by the soldiers less noble. And because that through the imperfection of humane nature, and by the deceits of his enemy, man attains not this felicity without many inward difficulties, and without finding by the way many outward impediments, all these are noted unto us by poetical figures. As the death of Syrenus, and his companions, not being joined to the camp, but slain far off, may here show the losses, which a civil man hath of his friends, followers, and other external goods, instruments of virtue, & aids to the attaining of true felicity. The armies of Africa, Asia, and unluckily battles, are none other than his enemies, his losses, and the accidents of contrary fortune. But coming to the inward impediments, love, which maketh Tancredie and the other worthies to dote, and disjoin them from Godfrey, and the disdain which enticeth Rinaldo from the enterprise, do signify the conflict and rebellion which the Concupiscent and ireful powers, do make with the Reasonable. The devils which do consult to hinder the conquest of Jerusalem, are both a figure, and a thing figured, and do here represent the very same evils, which do oppose themselves against our civil happiness, so that it may not be to us a ladder of Christian blessedness. The two magicians Ismen and Armida, servants of the devil, which endeavour to remove the Christians from making war, are two devilish temptations which do lay snares for two powers of the soul, from whence all other sins do proceed. Ismen doth signify that temptation, which seeketh to deceive with false belief the virtue (as a man may call it) opinative: Armida is that temptation which layeth siege to the power of our desires, so from that proceed the errors of Opinion; from this, those of the Appetite. The enchantments of Ismen in the wood, deceiving with illusions, signify no other thing than the falsity of the reasons and persuasions which are engendered in the wood; that is, in the variety and multitude of opinions and discourses of men. And since that man followeth vice and flieth virtue, either thinking that travels and dangers are evils most grievous and insupportable, or judging (as did the Epicure and his followers) that in pleasure and idleness consisted chiefest felicity; by this, double is the enchantment and illusion. The fire, the whirlwind, the darkness, the Monsters, and other feigned semblances, are the deceiving allurements which do show us honest travels and honourable danger under the shape of evil. The Flowers, the fountains, the rivers, the musical instruments, the nymphs, are the deceitful enticements, which do here set down before us the pleasures and delights of the sense, under the show of Good. So let it suffice to have said thus much of the impediments which a man finds as well within as without himself: yet if the allegory of any thing be not well expressed, with these beginnings every man by himself may easily find it out. Now let us pass to the outward and inward helps; with which the Civil man overcoming all difficulty, is brought to this desired happiness. The target of Diamond which Raimond recovereth, and afterward is showed ready in the defence of Godfrey, aught to be understood for the special safeguard of the Lord God. The Angels do signify sometime Heavenly help, and sometime Inspiration, the which are here shadowed in the dream of Godfrey, & in the records of the hermit. The hermit, who for the deliverance of Rinaldo did send the two messengers to the wiseman, doth show unto us the supernatural knowledge received by God's grace, as the wise man doth human wisdom, forasmuch as of human wisdom & of the knowledge of the works of Nature, & the mysteries thereof, is bred & established in our minds, justice, temperance, despising of death and mortal pleasures, magnanimity, and every other moral virtue. And great aid may a civil man receive in every action he attempteth, by contemplation. It is feigned, that this wise man was by birth a Pagan, but being by the hermit converted to the true faith, becometh a Christian, and despising his first arrogancy, he doth not much presume of his own wisdom, but yieldeth himself to the judgement of his master, albeit that philosophy be borne & nourished amongst the Gentiles in Egypt and Greece, and from thence hath passed over unto us, presumptuous of herself, a miscreant bold and proud above measure: but of Saint Thomas and the other holy Doctors she is made the disciple and handmaid of divinity, and is become by their endeavour more modest, and more religious, nothing daring rashly to affirm against that which is revealed to her Mistress. Neither in vain is the person of the wise man brought in, Rinaldo being able by the only counsel of the hermit to be found & brought back again) for that, it is brought in show, that the grace of God doth not work always in men immediately, or by extraordinary ways, but many times worketh by natural means. And it is very reasonable that Godfrey which in holiness and religion doth excel all other, and is (as hath been said) the figure of understanding, be specially graced and privileged with favours not communicated to any other. This human wisdom, when it is directed of the superior or more high virtue, doth deliver the sensible soul from vice, & therein placeth moral virtue. But because this sufficeth not, Peter the hermit first confesseth Godfrey & Rinaldo, and converted Tancredie. Godfrey & Rinaldo being two persons, which in our Poem do hold the principal place, it can not be but pleasing to the Reader, that I repeating some of the already spoken things, do particularly lay open the allegorical sense, which under the vail of their actions, lie hidden. Godfrey which holdeth the principal place in this story, is no other in the allegory but the understanding, which is signified in many places of the poem as in that verse, 
By thee the counsel given is, by thee the sceptre ruled.  And more plainly in that other: 
Thy soul is of the camp both mind and life.  And Life is added, because in the powers more noble, the less noble are contained: therefore Rinaldo, which in action is in the second degree of honour, ought also to be placed in the allegory in the answerable degree: but what this power of the mind, holding the second degree of dignity is, shall be now manifested. The ireful virtue is that, which amongst all the powers of the mind, is less estranged from the nobility of the soul, insomuch that Plato (doubting) seeketh whether it differeth from reason or no. And such is it in the mind, as the chieftain in an assembly of soldiers: for as of these the office is to obey their princes, which do give directions and commandments to fight against their enemies: so is it the duty of the ireful, warlike, and sovereign part of the mind, to be armed with reason against concupiscence, and with that vehemency and fierceness (which is proper unto it) to resist and drive away whatsoever impediment to felicity. But when it doth not obey Reason, but suffers itself to be carried of her own violence, it falleth out, that it fighteth not against concupiscence, but by concupiscence, like a dog that biteth not the thieves, but the cattle committed to his keeping. This violent, fierce, and unbridled fury, as it can not be fully noted by one man of war, is nevertheless principally signified by Rinaldo, where it is said of him, that being 
— Aright warlike knight  
Did scorn by reasons rule to fight.  wherein (whilst fight against Gernando, he did pass the bounds of civil revenge, and whilst he served Armida) may be noted unto us, Anger, not governed by reason: whilst he disinchanteth the wood, entereth the city, breaketh the enemies array, Anger, directed by reason. His return and reconciliation to Godfrey, noteth Obedience, causing the ireful power to yield to the Reasonable. In these Reconciliations two things are signified, first, Godfrey with civil moderation is acknowledged to be superior to Rinaldo, teaching us, that Reason commandeth Anger, not imperiously, but courteously and civilly: contrariwise in that, by imprisoning Argillanus imperiously, the sedition is quieted; it is given us to understand, the power of the mind, to be over the body, regal and predominate: Secondly, that as the reasonable part ought not (for herein the Stoics were very much deceived) to exclude the ireful from actions, nor usurp the offices thereof, for this usurpation should be against nature and justice, but it ought to make her her companion and handmaid: So ought not Godfrey to attempt the adventure of the wood himself, thereby arrogating to himself the other offices belonging to Reinaldo. Less skill should then be showed, and less regard had to the profit, which the Poet, as subjecteth to policy, aught to have for his aim, if it had been feigned, that by Godfrey only, all was wrought, which was necessary for the conquering of Jerusalem. Neither is there contrariety or difference from that which hath been said, in putting down Rinaldo and Godfrey for that figure of the Reasonable and of the ireful virtue, which Hugo speaks of in his dream, whereas he compareth the one to the Head, the other to the right Hand of the army, because the Head (if we believe Plato) is the seat of Reason, and the right Hand, if it be not the seat of wrath, it is at least her most principal instrument. Finally, to come to the conclusion, the army wherein Rinaldo and the other worthies by the grace of God and advise of Man, are returned and obedient to their chieftain, signifieth man brought again into the state of natural justice and heavenly obedience: where the superior powers do command, as they ought, and the inferior do obey, as they should. Then the wood is easily disinchanted, the city vanquished, the enemies army discomfited, that is, all external impediments being easily overcome, man attaineth the politic happiness. But for that this Politic blessedness, ought not to be the last mark of a Christian man, but he ought to look more high, that is, to Everlasting felicity, for this cause Godfrey doth not desire to win the earthly Jerusalem, to have therein only temporal dominion, but because herein may be celebrated the worship of God, and that the Holy sepulchre may be the more freely visited of godly strangers and devout Pilgrims; and the Poem is shut up in the prayers of Godfrey, it is showed unto us, that the understanding being traveled and wearied in civil actions ought in the end to rest in devotion and in the contemplation of the eternal blessedness of the other most happy and immortal life.  
FINIS.   


The first book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

God sends his angel to Tortosa down,  
Godfrey unites the Christianpeeres and knights,  
And all the Lords and Princes of renown  
Choose him their Duke, to rule the wars and fights,  
He mustreth all his host, whose number known,  
He sends them to the fort that Zion heights,  
The aged Tyrant Judaes' land that guides  
In fear and trouble to resist provides.   

1  
THE sacred armies and the godly knight  
That the great sepulchre of Christ did free,  
I sing; much wrought his valour and foresight,  
And in that glorious war much suffered he:  
In vain 'gainst him did Hell oppose her might,  
In vain the Turks and morions armed be,  
His soldiers wild (to brawls and mutines priest)  
Reduced he to peace, so heaven him blest.   

2  
O heavenly muse, that not with fading bay  
Deckest thy brow by th'Heliconian spring,  
But sittest crowned with stars immortal rays,  
In heaven where legions of bright Angels sing,  
Inspire life in my wit, my thoughts upraise,  
My verse ennoble, and forgive the thing,  
If fictions light I mix with truth divine,  
And fill these lines with others praise then thine.   

3  
Thither thouknow'st the world is best inclined  
Where luring Parnase most his sweet imparts,  
And truth conveyed in verse of gentle kind,  
To read perhaps will move the dullest hearts:  
So we (if children young diseased we find)  
Anoint with sweets the vessels foremost parts,  
To make them taste the potions sharp we give;  
They drink deceived; and so deceived, they live.   

4  
Ye noble Princes, that protect and save  
The pilgrim muses, and their ship defend  
From rock of ignorance, and errors wave,  
Your gracious eyes upon this labour bend:  
To you these tales of love and conquests brave  
I dedicate, to you this work I send,  
My muse hereafter shall perhaps unfold  
Your fights, your battles, and your combats bold.   

5  
For if the Christian Princes ever strive  
To win fair Greece out of the tyrant's hands,  
And those usurping Ismalites deprive  
Of woeful Thrace, which now captived stands,  
You must from realms and seas the Turks forth drive,  
As Godfrey chased them from Judais lands,  
And in this legend, all that glorious deed  
Read, whilst you arm you; arm you, whilst you read.   

6  
Six years were run since first in martial guise  
The Christian Lords warraid the eastren land,  
Nice by assault, and Antioch by surprise,  
Both fair, both rich, both won, both conquered stand,  
And this defended they in noblest wize  
'Gainst Persian knights and many a valiant band,  
Tottosa won, (lest winter might them shend)  
They drew to holds, and coming spring attend.   

7  
The sullen season now was come and gone,  
That forced them late cease from their noble war,  
When God almighty from his lofty throne,  
Set in those parts of heaven that purest are,  
(As far above the clear stars every one,  
As it is hence up to the highest star)  
Looked down, and all at once this world beheld,  
Each land, each city, country, town and field:   

8  
All things he viewed, at last in Syria staid  
Upon the Christian Lords, his gracious eye,  
That wondrous look wherewith he oft surveyed  
men's secret thoughts that most concealed lie,  
He cast on puissant Godfrey, that assayed  
To drive the Turks from zions bulwarks hie,  
And (full of zeal and faith) esteemed light  
All worldly honour, empire, treasure, might.   

9  
In Baldwine next, he spied another thought,  
Whom spirits proud to vain ambition move,  
Tancred he saw his lives joy set at nought,  
So woe begon was he with pains of love:  
Boemond the conquered folk of Antioch brought  
The gentle yoke of Christian rule to prove,  
He taught them laws, statutes, and customs new,  
Arts, crafts, obedience, and religion true.   

10  
And with such care his busy work he plied  
That to nought else his acting thoughts he bend,  
In young Rinaldo fierce desires he spied,  
And noble heart, of rest impatient,  
To wealth or sovereign power he nought applied  
His wits, but all to virtue excellent,  
Patterns and rules of skill and courage bold  
He took from Guelpho, and his father's old.   

11  
Thus, when the Lord discovered had and seen  
The hidden secrets of each worthies breast,  
Out of the Hierarchies of angel's sheen  
The gentle Gabriel called he from the rest,  
Twixt God and souls of men that righteous been  
Ambassador is he, for ever blest,  
The just commands of heavens eternal king  
Twixt skies and earth, he up and down doth bring.   

12  
To whom the Lord thus spoke, Godfredo find  
And in my name ask him, why doth he rest?  
Why be his arms to ease and peace resigned?  
Why frees he not Jerusalem distressed?  
His peers to counsel call, each base mind  
Let him stir up; for, chieftaîne of the rest  
I chose him here, the earth shall him allow,  
His fellows late, shall be his subjects now.   

13  
This said, the angel swift himself prepared  
To execute the charge imposed aright,  
In form of airy members fair imbarde,  
His spirits pure were subject to our sight,  
Like to a man in show and shape he fared,  
But full of heavenly majesty and might,  
A stripling seemed he thrice five winters old,  
And radiant beams adorned his locks of gold.   

14  
Of silver wings he took a shining pair,  
Fringed with gold, unwearied, nimble, swift,  
With these he parts the winds, the clouds, the air,  
And over seas and earth himself doth lift,  
Thus clad he cut the spheres and circles fair  
And the pure skies with sacred feathers cleft,  
On Libanon at first his foot he set,  
And shook his wings with roarie May-dewes wet.   

15  
Then to Tortosas confines swiftly sped  
The sacred messenger, with headlong flight;  
Above the eastern wave appeared red  
The rising sun, yet scantly half in sight,  
Godfrey even then his morn devotions said,  
(As was his custom) when with Titan bright  
Appeared the angel, in his shape divine,  
Whose glory far obscured Phoebus shine.   

16  
Godfrey (quoth he) behold the season fit  
To war, for which thou waited haste so long,  
Now serves the time (if thou oreslip not it)  
To free Jerusalem, from thrall and wrong:  
Thou with thy Lords in counsel quickly sit,  
Comfort the feeble and confirm the strong,  
The Lord of hosts their general doth make thee,  
And for their chiestaine they shall gladly take thee.   

17  
I messenger from everlasting Jove  
In his great name thus his behests do tell,  
Oh what sure hope of conquest ought thee move?  
What zeal, what love should in thy bosom dwell?  
This said, he vanished to those seats above,  
In height and clearness which the rest excel,  
Down fell the Duke, his joints dissolved asunder,  
Blind with the light, and strooken dead with wonder.   

18  
But when recovered, he consid'red more  
The man, his manner, and his message, said,  
If erst he wished, now he longed sore  
To end that war, whereof he Lord was made,  
Nor swelled his breast with uncouth pride therefore,  
That heaven on him above this charge had laid,  
But for his great Creator would the same,  
His will increased; so fire augmenteth flame.   

19  
The captains called forthwith from every tent,  
Unto the rendezvous he them invites,  
Letter on letter, post on post he sent,  
Entreatance fair with counsel he unites,  
All, what a noble courage could augment,  
The sleeping spark of valour what incites,  
He used, that all their thoughts to honour reased,  
Some praised, some prayed, some counseled, all pleased.   

20  
The captains, soldiers, all, (save Boemound) came,  
And pitched their tents, some in the fields without,  
Some of green boughs their slender cabins frame,  
Some lodge were Tortosas streets about,  
Of all the host the chief of worth and name  
Assembled been, a senate grave and stout;  
Then Godfrey (after silencekept a space)  
Lift up his voice, and spoke with princely grace.   

21  
Warriors (whom God himself elected hath  
His worship true in Zion to restore,  
And still preserved from danger, harm and scathe,  
By many a sea and many an unknown shore)  
You have subjecteth lately to his faith  
Some provinces rebellious long before:  
And after conquests great, have in the same  
Erected trophies to his cross and name,   

22  
But not for this, our homes we first forsook,  
And from our native soil have Marched so far:  
Nor us to dangrous seas have we betook,  
Exposed to hazard of so far sought war,  
Of glory vain to gain an idle smoke,  
And lands possess that wild and barbarous ar:  
That for our conquests were too mean a prey,  
To shed our bloods, to work our soul's decay.   

23  
But this the scope was of our former thought,  
Of zions for't to scale the noble wall,  
The Christian folk from bondage to have brought,  
Wherein alas, they long have lived thrall,  
In Palestine an empire to have wrought  
Where godliness might reign perpetual,  
And none be left, that pilgrims might denay  
To see Christ's tomb, and promised vows to pay.   

24  
What to this hour successively is done  
Was full of peril, to our honour small,  
Nought to our first designment, if we shun  
The purposed end, or here lie fixed all,  
What boots it us these wars to have begun?  
Or Europe raised to make proud Asia thrall?  
If our beginnings have this ending known,  
Notkingdoms raised, but armies overthrown.   

25  
Not as we list erect we empires new  
On frail foundations, laid in earthly mould,  
Whereof our faith and country be but few,  
Among the thousands stout of Pagans bold,  
Where no ught behooves us trust to Greece untrue,  
And Western aid we far removed behold,  
Who buildeth thus, me thinks, so buildeth he,  
As if his work should his sepulchre be.   

26  
Turks, Persians conquered, Antiochia won,  
Be glorious acts, and full of glorious praise,  
By heavens mere grace, not by our prowess, done:  
Those conquests were achieved by wondrous ways,  
If now from that directed course we run,  
The God of battles thus before us lays,  
His loving kindness shall we lose I doubt,  
And be a byword to the lands about.   

27  
Let not these blessings then sent from above  
Abused be, or spilled in profane wise,  
But let the issue correspondent prove  
To good beginnings of each enterprise,  
The gentle season might our courage move,  
Now every passage plain and open lies:  
What lets us than the great Jerusalem  
With valiant squadrons round about to 'em?   

28  
Lords, I protest, and hearken all to it  
Ye times and ages, future, present, past,  
Hear all ye blessed in the heavens that sit,  
The time for this atchieument hasteneth fast:  
The longer rest worse will the season fit,  
Our surety shall with doubts be overcast,  
If we foreslowe the siege I well foresee  
From Egypt will the Pagans succoured be.   

29  
This said, the hermit Peter rose and spoke,  
(Who sat in counsel those great Lords among)  
At my request this war was undertake,  
In private cell who erst lived closed long,  
What Godfrey wills, of that no question make,  
There cast no doubts where truth is plain and strong,  
Your acts I trust will correspond his speech,  
Yet one thing more I would you gladly teach.   

30  
These strives (unless I far mistake the thing)  
And discords raised, oftin disordered sort,  
Your disobedience, and ill managing  
Of actions, lost, for want of due support,  
Refer I justly to a further spring,  
Spring of sedition, strife, oppression, tort,  
I mean commanding power to sundry given,  
In thought, opinion, worth, estate, uneven.   

31  
Where divers Lords divided empire hold,  
Where causes be by gifts not justice tried,  
Where offices be falsely bought and sold,  
Needs must the lordship there from virtue slide.  
Of friendly parts one body then uphold,  
Create one head the rest to rule and guide,  
To one the regal power and sceptre give,  
That henceforth may your king and sovereign live.   

32  
And therewith staid his speech. O gracious muse,  
What kindling motions in their breasts do fry?  
With grace divine the hermits talk infuse  
That in their hearts his words may fructify;  
By this a virtuous concord they did choose,  
And all contentious then began to die;  
The princes with the multitude agree,  
That Godfrey ruler of those wars should be.   

33  
This power they gave him, by his princely right  
All to command, to judge all, good and ill,  
Laws to impose to lands subdued by might,  
To maken war both when and where he will,  
To hold in due subjection every wight  
Their valours to be guided by his skill;  
This done, report displays her tell-tale wings,  
And to each care the news and tidings brings.   

34  
She told the soldiers, who allowed him meet  
And well deserving of that sovereign place,  
Their first salutes and acclamations sweet  
Received he, with love and gentle grace:  
After their reverence done with kind regret  
Requited was, with mild and cheerful face,  
He bids his armies should the following day  
On those fair plains, their standards proud display.   

35  
The golden sun rose from the silver wave,  
And with his beams ennameld every green,  
When up arose each warrior bold and brave,  
Glistering in field steel and armours sheen,  
With jolly plumes their crests adorned they have,  
And all tofore their chieftain mustered been:  
He from a mountain, cast his curious sight  
On every footman, and on every knight.   

36  
My mind, times enemy, oblivions foe,  
Disposer true of each note-worthy thing,  
O let thy virtuous might avail me so,  
That I each troop and captain great may sing  
That in this glorious war did famous grow,  
Forgot till now, by times evil handling:  
This work (derived from thy treasures dear)  
Let all times hearken, never age outwear.   

37  
The French came foremost battailous and bold,  
Late led by Hugo brother to their king,  
From France the isle that rivers four enfold  
With rolling streams descending from their spring,  
But Hugo dead, the lily fair of gold  
Their wont ensign, they tofore them bring  
Under Clotharius great, a captain good,  
And hardy knight, isprong of prince's blood,   

38  
A thousand were they in strong armours clad,  
Next whom there marched forth another band,  
That number, nature and instruction had  
Like them, to fight far off, or charge at hand,  
All valiant Normans, by Lord Robert lad,  
The native Duke of that renowned land,  
Two Bishops next their standards proud upbare  
Called reverend William, and good Ademare.   

39  
Their jolly notes they chanted loud and clear,  
On merry mornings, at the mass divine,  
And horrid helms high on their heads they bear,  
When their fierce courage they to war incline,  
The first four hundredth horsemen gathered near  
To Orange town, and lands that it confine:  
But Ademare the Poggian youth brought out,  
In number like, in hard assays, as stout.   

40  
Baldwine his ensign fair did next despreed  
Among his Bulloyners of noble fame,  
His brother gave him all his troops to lead  
When he commander of the field became,  
The Count Carinto did him strait succeed,  
Grave in advise, well skilled in Mars his game,  
Four hundredth brought he, but so many thrice  
Led Baldwine, clad in gilded arms of price:   

41  
Guelpho next them the land and place possessed,  
Whose fortunes good with his great acts agree,  
By his Italian Sire, fro th'house of Est  
Will could he bring his noble pedigree,  
A Germane borne, with rich possessions blest,  
A worthy branch sprung from the Guelphian tree.  
Twixt Rhine and Danubie the land contained  
He ruled, where swaves and Rhetians whilom reigned,   

42  
His mother's heritage was this and right,  
To which he added more by conquest got,  
From thence approved men of passing might  
He brought, that death or danger feared not;  
It was their wont in feasts to spend the night,  
And pass cold days in baths and houses hot,  
Five thousand late, of which now scantly are  
The third part left, such is the change of war.   

43  
The nation than with crisped locks and fair,  
That dwell between the seas and Arden wood,  
Where mosel streams and Rhine the meadows wear,  
A battle soil for grain, for pasture good,  
Their Islanders with them, who oft repair  
Their earthen bulwarks 'gainst the Ocean flood,  
The flood, elsewhere that ships and barks devowres,  
But there drowns cities, countries, towns and towers.   

44  
Both in one troup, and but a thousand all,  
Under another Robert fierce they run,  
Than th'English squadron, soldiers stout and tall,  
By William led their sovereign's younger son,  
These Archers be, and with them come withal,  
A people near the northern pole that won,  
Whom Ireland sent from loughes and forests hoar,  
Divided far by sea from Europe's shore.   

45  
Tancredie next, nor 'mongst them all was one  
Rinaldo except, a prince of greater might,  
With majesty his noble countenance shone,  
High were his thoughts, his heart was bold in fight,  
No shameful vice his worth had overgone,  
His fault was love, by unadvised sight  
Bred in the dangers of adventurous arms,  
And nursed with grieves, with sorrows, woes & harms.   

46  
Fame tells, that on that euer-blessed day,  
When Christian swords with Persian blood were died,  
The furious prince Tancredie from that fray  
His coward foes chased through forests wide,  
Till tired with the fight, the heat, the way,  
He sought some place to rest his weary side,  
And drew him near a silver stream, that blade  
Among wild herbs, under the greenewood shade.   

47  
A Pagan damsel there unwares he met,  
In shining steel, all save her visage fair,  
Her hair unbound she made a wanton net  
To catch sweet breathing, from the cooling air.  
On her at gaze his longing looks he set,  
Sight, wonder; wonder, love; love bred his cairo,  
O love, O wonder; love new borne, new bred,  
Now grown, now armed, this champion captive led.   

48  
Her helm the virgin donned, and but some wight  
She feared might come to aid him as they fought,  
Her courage earned to have assailed the knight,  
Yet thence she fled, uncompaned, unsought,  
And left her image in his heart ipight,  
Her sweet Idea wandered through his thought.  
Her shape, her gesture and her place in mind  
He kept, and blue loves fire with that wind.   

49  
Well might you read his sickness in his eyes,  
Their banks were full, their tide was at the flow,  
His help far off, his hurt within him lies,  
His hopes unsprong, his cares were fit to mow,  
Eight hundredth horse (from champain came) he gyves,  
Champain a land where wealth, ease, pleasure grow,  
Rich nature's pomp and pride, the Tirrhenemaine  
There wowes the hills, hills woo the valleys plain.   

50  
Two hundred Greeks' came next, in fight well tried,  
Not surely armed, in steel or iron strong,  
But each a glaive had pendant by his side,  
Their bows and quivers at their shoulders hung,  
Their horses well enured to chase and ride,  
In dietspare, untired with labour long,  
Ready to charge and to retire at will,  
Though broken, scattered, fled, they skirmish still.   

51  
Tatine their guide, and except Tatine, none  
Of all the Greeks' went with the Christian host,  
O sin, O shame, O Greece accursed alone!  
Did not this fatal war affront thy coast?  
Yet sattest thou an idle looker on,  
And glad attendest which side won or lost:  
Now if thou be a bondslave vile become  
No wrong is that, but Gods most righteous doom.   

52  
In order last, but first in worth and fame,  
Unfeared in fight, untired with hurt or wound,  
The noble squadron of adventrers came,  
Terrors to all that tread on Asian ground,  
Cease Orpheus of thy Minois, Arthur shame  
To boast of Lancelot, or thy table round,  
Kor these whom antic times with laurel dressed,  
These far exceed, them, thou, and all the rest.   

53  
Dudon of Consa was their guide and Lord,  
And for of worth and birth alike they been,  
They chose him captain, by their free accord,  
For he most acts had done, most battles seen,  
Grave was the man in years, in looks, in word,  
His locks were grey, yet was his courage green,  
Of worth and might the noble badge he bore,  
Old scars of grievous wounds, received of yore.   

54  
After came Eustace, well ysteemed man  
For Godfrey's sake his brother, and his own,  
The king of Norway's heir Gernando than,  
Proud of his father's titles, sceptre, crown,  
Roger of Balnavill, and Engerlan  
For hardy knights approved were and known,  
Besides were numbered in that warlike train  
Rambald, Gentonio, and the Gerard's twain.   

55  
Ubaldo than, and puissant Rosimond  
Of Lancaster the heir, in rank succeed,  
Let none forget Obizo of Tuscaine land,  
Well worthy praise for many a worthy deed,  
Nor those three brethren, Lombard's fierce and yond,  
Achilles, Sforza, and stern Palameed,  
Nor Ottons shield he conquered in those stowres,  
In which a snake a naked child devours.   

56  
Guascher and Raiphe in valour like there was,  
The one and other Guido, famous both,  
Germer and Eberard to overpay  
In foul oblivion would my muse be loath,  
With his Gildippes' dear, Edward alas,  
A loving pair, to war among them goeth  
In bond of virtuous love together tied,  
Together served they and together died.   

57  
In school of love are all things taught we see,  
There learned this maid of arms the ireful guise,  
Still by his side a faithful guard went she,  
One true-love knot their lives together ties,  
No wound to one alone could dangerous be,  
But each the smart of others anguish tries,  
If one were hurt, the other felt the sore,  
She lost her blood, he spent his life therefore.   

58  
But these and all, Rinaldo far exceeds,  
Star of this sphere, the diamond of this ring,  
The nest, where courage with sweet mercy breeds:  
A comet, worthy each eyes wondering,  
His years are fewer than his noble deeds,  
His fruit is ripe soon as his blossoms spring,  
Armed, a Mars, might coyest Venus move,  
And if disarmed, than God himself of love.   

59  
Sophia by Adige flowery bank him bore,  
Sophia the fair, spouse to Bertoldo great,  
Fit mother for that pearl, and before  
The tender imp was waned from the teat,  
The Princess Maud him took, in virtues lore  
She brought him up, fit for each worthy feat,  
Till of these wars the golden trump he hears  
That soundeth glory, fame, praise in his ears.   

60  
And then (though scantly three times five years old)  
He fled alone, by many an unknown coast,  
o'er Aegean seas, by many a Greekish hold,  
Till he arrived at the Christian host;  
A noble flight, adventurous, brave and bold,  
Whereon a valiant Prince might justly boast,  
Three years he served in field, when scant begin  
Few golden hairs to deck his ivory chin.   

61  
The horsemen past, their void left stations fill  
The bands on foot, and Reymond them before,  
Of Tholouse Lord, from lands near Piraene hill,  
By Garound streams and salt sea billows worn,  
Four thousand foot he brought, well armed, and skill  
Had they all pains and travel to have borne,  
Stout men of arms, and with their guide of power  
Like Troy's old town, defenst with Ilion's tower.   

62  
Next Stephen of Amboise did five thousand lead,  
The men he priest from Toures and Blois but late,  
To hard assays unfit, unsure at need,  
Yet armed to point in well attempted plate,  
The land did like itself the people breed,  
The soil is gentle, smooth, soft, delicate;  
Boldly they charge, but soon retire for doubt,  
Like fire of straw soon kindled, soon burnt out.   

63  
The third Alcasto marched, and with him  
The Boaster brought six thousand Swissers bold,  
Audacious were their looks, their faces grim,  
Strong castles on the Alpine cliffs they hold,  
Their shares and culters broke, to armours trim  
They change that metal, cast in warlike mould,  
And with this band late herds and flocks that guied,  
Now kings and realms he threatened and defied.   

64  
The glorious standard last to heaven they spread,  
With Peter's keys ennobled, and his crown,  
With it seven thousand stout Camillo had,  
Embattled in walls of iron brown,  
In this adventure and occasion, glad  
So to revive the Romans' old renown,  
Or prove at least to all of wiser thought  
Their hearts were fertile land, although unwrought.   

65  
But now was passed every regiment,  
Each band, each troup, each person worth regard,  
When Godfrey with his Lords to counsel went,  
And thus the Duke his princely will declared:  
I will when day next clears the firmament,  
Our ready host in haste be all prepared,  
Closely to march to zions noble wall,  
Unseen, unheard; or undescride at all.   

66  
Prepare you then, for travail strong and light,  
Fierce to the combat, glad to victory:  
And with that word and warning soon was dight  
Each soldier, longing for near coming glory,  
Impatient be they of the morning bright,  
Of honour so them pricked the memory.  
But yet their chieftain had conceived a fear  
Within his heart, but kept it secret there:   

67  
For he by faithful espial was assured,  
That Egypt's king was forward on his way,  
And to arrive at Gaza old procured,  
A fort, that on the Sirian fronters lay,  
Nor thinks he that a man to wars enured  
Will ought foreslow, or in his journey stay,  
For well he knew him for a dangerous foe,  
An herald called he then, and spoke him so.   

68  
A pinnace take thee swift as shaft from bow,  
And speed thee (Henry) to the Greekish main,  
There should arrive (as I by letters know  
From one that never ought reports in vain)  
A valiant youth, in whom all virtues flow,  
To help us this great conquest to obtain,  
The Prince of Danes he is, and brings to war  
A troup with him from under th' artic star.   

69  
And for I doubt the Greekish monarch sly,  
Will use with him some of his wonted craft,  
To stay his passage, or divert awry  
Elsewhere his forces, his first journey laft,  
My herald good, and messenger well try,  
See that these succours be not us bereft,  
But send him thence with such convenient speed,  
As with his honour stands, and with our need.   

70  
Return not thou, but legier stay behind,  
And move the Greekish Prince to send us aid,  
Tell him his kingly promise doth him bind  
To give us succours, by his covenant maid;  
This said, and thus instruct, his letters signed  
The trusty herald took, nor longer stayed,  
But sped him thence to done his Lord's behest,  
And thus the Duke reduced his thoughts to rest.   

71  
Aurora bright her crystal gates unbard,  
And bride-groome-like forth stepped the glorious sun,  
When trumpets loud and clarious shrill were hard,  
And every one to rouse him fierce begun,  
Sweet music to each heart for war prepared,  
The soldiers glad by heaps to harness run;  
So if with drought endang'red be their grain,  
Poor plowmen joy, when thunders promise rain.   

72  
Some shirts of mail, some coats of plate put on,  
Some donned a cuirass, some a corselet bright,  
An hawberke some, and some a haberion,  
So every one in arms was quickly dight,  
His wonted guide each soldiers tends upon,  
Lose in the wind waved their banners light,  
Their standard royal towards heaven they spread,  
The cross triumphant on the Pagans dead.   

73  
Meanwhile the car that bears the lightning brand,  
Upon the eastren hill was mounted high,  
And smote the glistering armies as they stand,  
With quivering beams which dazed the wondering eye,  
That Phaeton-like it fired sea and land,  
The sparkles seemed up to the skies to fly,  
The horses neigh, and clattering armours sown,  
Pursue the echo over dale and down.   

84  
For nations twain inhabit there and dwell  
Of sundry faith, together in that town,  
The lesser part on Christ believed well,  
On Termagant the more and on Mahowne,  
But when this king had made his conquest fell,  
And brought that region subject to his crown,  
Of burdens all he set the Paynims large,  
And on poor Christians laid the double charge.   

85  
His native wrath reviv'd with this new thought,  
With age and years that weakened was of yore,  
Such madness in his cruel bosom wrought,  
That now than ever, blood he thirsteth more;  
So stings a snake that to the fire is brought,  
Which harmless lay benumbed with cold before,  
A lion so his rage renewed hath  
(Though tame before) if he be moved to wrath.   

86  
I see (quoth he) some expectation vain  
In these false Christians, and some new content,  
Our common loss they trust will be their gain,  
They laugh, we weep; they joy while we lament,  
And more, perchance by treason or by train  
To murder us they secretly consent,  
Or otherwise to work us harm and woe,  
To open the gates, and so let in our foe.   

87  
But lest they should effect their cursed will,  
Let us destroy this serpent on his nest,  
Both young and old let us this people kill,  
The tender infants at their mother's breast,  
Their houses burn, their holy temples fill  
With bodies slain, of those that loved them best,  
And on that tomb they hold so much in price,  
Let's offer up their priests in sacrifice.   

88  
Thus thought the tyrant in his traitorous mind,  
But durst not follow what he had decreed,  
Yet if the innocents some mercy find,  
From cowardice, not ruth, did that proceed.  
His noble foes durst not his craven kind  
Exasperate, by such a bloody deed,  
For if he need what grace could then be got,  
If thus of peace he broke or loosed the knot?   

89  
His villain heart his cursed rage restrained,  
To other thoughts he bend his fierce desire,  
The suburbs first flat with the earth he plained,  
And burned their buildings with devouring fire,  
Loth was the wretch the Frenchmen should have gained  
Or help or ease, by finding aught entire,  
Cedron, Bethsaida, and each watering else  
Empoisoned he, both fountains, springs and wells.   

90  
So wary wise, this child of darkness was,  
The city's self he strongly fortifies,  
Three sides by scite it well defensed has,  
That's only weak that to the northward lies,  
With mighty bars of long enduring bras,  
The steele-bound doors, and iron gates he ties,  
And lastly legions armed well, provides  
Of subjects borne, and hired aid beside.    

The second book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Ismeno conlures, but his charms are vain:  
Aladine will kill the Christians in his ire:  
Sophronia and Olindo would be slain  
To save the rest, the king grants their desire;  
Clorinda hears their fact and fortunes plain  
Their pardon gets and keeps them from the fire:  
Argantes, when Aletes speeches are  
Despised, defies the Duke to mortal war.   

1  
WHile thus the Tyrant bends his thoughts to arms,  
Ismeno 'gan tofore his sight appear,  
Ismen dead bones laid in cold graves that warms  
And makes them speak, smell, taste, touch, see and here;  
Ismen (with terror of his mighty charms)  
That makes great Dis in deepest hell to fear,  
That binds and looseth souls condemned to woe,  
And sends the devils on errands to and fro.   

2  
A Christian once, Macon he now adores,  
Nor could he quite his wont faith forsake,  
But in his wicked arts both oft implores  
Help from the Lord, and aid from Pluto black;  
He, from deep caves by Acheron's dark shores,  
(Where circles vain and spells he used to make)  
T'advise his king in these extremes is come,  
Achitophel so counseled Absalome,   

3  
My liege (he says) the camp fast hither moves,  
The axe is laid unto this cedar's rout,  
But let us work as valiant men behooves,  
For boldest hearts good fortune helpeth out:  
Your princely care your kingly wisdom proves,  
Well have you laboured, well foreseen about,  
If each perform his charge and duty so,  
Nought but his grave here conquer shall your foe:   

4  
From surest castle of my secret cell  
I come, partaker of your good and ill,  
What counsel sage or magikes sacred spell  
May profit us, all that perform I will:  
The spirits impure from bliss that whilom fell  
Shall to your service bow, constrained by skill;  
But how we must begin this enterprise,  
I will your highness thus in brief advise.   

5  
Within the Christians Church, from light of skies,  
An hidden Altar stands, far out of sight,  
On which the image consecrated lies  
Of Christ's dear mother, called a virgin bright,  
An hundredth lamps aye burn before her eyes,  
She in a slender vail of tinsel dight,  
On every side great plenty doth behold  
Of offerings brought, myrrh, frankincense and gold.   

6  
This idol would I have removed away  
From thence, and by your princely hand transport  
In Macons' sacred temple safe it lay,  
Which then I will enchant in wondrous sort,  
That while the image in that church doth stay,  
No strength of arms shall win this noble sort,  
Or shake this puissant wall, such passing might  
Have spells and charms, if they be said aright.   

7  
Advised thus, the king impatient  
Flew in his fury to the house of God,  
The image took, with words unreverent  
Abused the prelate's, who that deed forbade,  
Swift with his prey away the tyrant went,  
Of God's sharp justice nought he feared the rod,  
But in his chapel vile the image laid,  
On which th'enchanter charms and witchcrafts said.   

8  
When Phoebus next unclosed his wakeful eye,  
Uprose the sexton of that place profane,  
And missed the image where it used to lie,  
Each where he sought in grief, in fear, in vain;  
Then to the king his loss he 'gan descry,  
Who sore enraged killed him for his pain,  
And strait conceived in his malicious wit,  
Some Christian bade this great offence commit.   

9  
But whether this were act of mortal hand,  
Or else the Prince of heavens eternal pleasure,  
That of his mercy would this wretch withstand,  
Nor let so vile a chest, hold such a treasure,  
As yet conjecture hath not fully scanned;  
By godliness let us this action measure,  
And truth of purest faith will fitly prove,  
That this rare grace came down from heaven above.   

10  
With busy search the tyrant 'gan invade  
Each house, each hold, each temple and each tent,  
To them the fault or faulty one bewrayed  
Or hid, he promised gifts or punishment,  
His idle charms the false enchanter said,  
But in this maze still wandered and miswent,  
For heaven decreed to conceal the same,  
To make the miscreant more to feel his shame.   

11  
But when the angry king discovered not  
What guilty hand this sacrilege had wrought,  
His ireful courage boiled in vengeance hot  
Against the Christians, whom he falters thought,  
All ruth, compassion, mercy he forgot,  
A staff to beat that dog he long had sought,  
Let them all die, quoth he, kill great and small,  
So shall th'offender perish sure withal.   

12  
To spill the wine with poison mixed who spares?  
Slay then the righteous, with the faulty one,  
Destroy this field, that yieldeth nought but tars,  
With thorns this vineyard all is overgone,  
Among these wretches is not one, that cares  
For us, our laws, or our religion,  
Up, up, dear subjects, fire and weapon take,  
Burn, murder, kill, these traitors, for my sake.   

13  
This Herod thus would Bethlems infants kill,  
The Christians soon these direful news recave,  
The trump of death sounds in their hearing shrill,  
Their weapon, faith; their fortress, was the grave;  
They had no courage, time, devise, or will,  
To fight, to fly, excuse, or pardon crave,  
But stood prepared to die, yet help they find  
Whence least they hope, such knots can heaven unbind,   

14  
Among them dwelled (her parents joy and pleasure)  
A maid, whose fruit was ripe, not overyeared,  
Her beauty was her not esteemed, treasure;  
The field of love, with plough of virtue eared,  
Her labour goodness; godliness her leisure,  
Her house the heaven by this full moon aye cleared,  
For there, from lovers eyes withdrawn, alone  
With virgin beams this spotless Cynthia shone.   

15  
But what availed her resolution chaste,  
Whose sobrest looks were whetstones to desire?  
Nor love consents that beauty's field lie waste,  
Her visage set Olindoes heart on fire,  
O subtle love, a thousand wiles thou hast  
By humble suit, by service, or by hire,  
To win a maidens hold, a thing soon done,  
For nature framed all women to be won.   

16  
Sophronia she, Olindo hight the yuth,  
Both of one town, both in one faith were taught,  
She fair, he full of bashfulness and truth,  
Loved much, hoped little, and desired nought,  
He durst not speak, by suit to purchase ruth,  
She saw not, marked not, witted not what he sought,  
Thus loved, thus served he long, but not regarded,  
Unseen, unmarkt, unpitied, unrewarded.   

17  
To her came message of the murderment,  
Wherein her guiltless friends, should hopeless starve,  
She that was noble wise, as fair and gent,  
Cast how she might their harmless lives preserve,  
Zeal was the spring whence flowed her hardiment,  
From maiden's shame yet was she loath to swerver:  
Yet had her courage ta'en so sure a hold,  
That boldness, shamefast; shame had made her bold.   

18  
And forth she went, a shop for merchandise  
Full of rich stuff, but none for sale exposed,  
A vail obscured the sunshine of her eyes,  
The rose within herself her sweetness closed,  
Each ornament about her seemly lies,  
By curious chance, or careless art, composed;  
For what the most neglects, most curious prove,  
So beauty's helped by nature, heaven and love.   

19  
Admired of all on went this noble maid  
Until the presence of the king she gained,  
Nor for he swelled with ire was she afraid,  
But his fierce wrath with fearless grace sustained,  
I come, quoth she, (but be thine anger stayed,  
And causeless rage 'gainst faultless souls restrained)  
I come to show thee and to bring thee both  
The wight, whose fact hath made thy heart so wroth.   

20  
Her modest boldness, and that lightning ray  
Which her sweet beauty streamed on his face,  
Had struck the Prince with wonder and dismay,  
Changed his cheer and cleared his moody grace,  
That had her eyes disposed their looks to play,  
The king had snared been in loves strong lace,  
But wayward beauty doth not fancy move,  
A frown forbids, a smile engendereth love.   

21  
It was amazement, wonder and delight,  
(Although not love) that moved his cruel sense,  
Tell on, quoth he, unfold the chance aright,  
Thy people's lives I grant for recompense.  
Then she, behold the falter here in sight,  
This hand committed that supposed offence,  
I took the image, mine that fault, that fact,  
Mine be the glory of that virtuous act.   

22  
This spotless lamb thus offered up her blood  
To save the rest of Christ's selected fold,  
O noble lie! was ever truth so good?  
Blessed be the lips that such a leasing told,  
Thoughtful awhile remained the tyrant wood,  
His native wrath he 'gan a space withhold  
And said, that thou discover soon I will,  
What aid? what counsel hadst thou in that ill?   

23  
My lofty thoughts (she answered him) envied  
Another's hand should work my high desire,  
The thirst of glory can no partner bide,  
With mine own self I did alone conspire.  
On thee alone (the tyrant than replied)  
Shall fall the vengeance of my wrath and ire.  
'tis just and right (quoth she) I yield consent,  
Mine be the honour, mine the punishment.   

24  
The wretch of new enraged at the same,  
Asked where she hide the image so conveyed:  
Not hid (quoth she) but quite consumed with flame,  
The idol is of that eternal maid,  
For so at least I have preserved the same  
With hands profane from being eft betrayed.  
My Lord, the thing thus stolen demand no more;  
Here see the thief, that scorneth death therefore.   

25  
And yet no theft was this, yours was the sin,  
I brought again what you unjustly took;  
This heard, the tyrant did for rage begin  
To whet his teeth, and bend his frowning look,  
No pity, youth; fairness, no grace could win;  
joy, comfort, hope, the virgin all forsook;  
Wrath killed remorse, vengeance stopped mercy's breath,  
love's thrall to hate, and beauty slave to death.   

26  
Ta'en was the damsel, and without remorse,  
The king condemned her (guiltless) to the fire,  
Her vail and mantle plucked they off by force,  
And bound her tender arms in twisted wire:  
dumb was this silver dove, while from her corpse  
These hungry kites plucked off her rich attire,  
And for somedeal perplexed was her spirit,  
Her damask late, now changed to purest white.   

27  
The news of this mishap spread far and near,  
The people ran, both young and old, to gace;  
Olindo also ran, and 'gan to fear  
His, Lady was some partner in this case;  
But when he found her bound, stripped from her gear,  
And vile tormentors ready saw in place,  
He broke the throng, and into presence braced,  
And thus bespoke the king in rage and haste.   

28  
Not so, not so this girl shall bear away  
From me the honour of so noble feat,  
She durst not, did not, could not so convey  
The massy substance of that idol great,  
What sleight had she the wardens to betray?  
What strength to heave the goddess from her seat?  
No, no, my Lord, she sails, but with my wind,  
(Ah thus he loved, yet was his love unkind.)   

29  
He added further, where the shining glass  
Lets in the light amid your temples side,  
By broken by-ways did I inward pass,  
And in that window made a postren wide,  
Nor shall therefore this ill-advised lass  
Usurp the glory should this fact betide,  
Mine be these bonds, mine be these flames so pure,  
O glorious death, more glorious sepulture.   

30  
Sophronia raised her modest looks from ground,  
And on her lover bend her eyesight mild,  
Tell me, what fury? what conceit unsound  
Presenteth here to death so sweet a child?  
Is not in me sufficient courage found  
To bear the anger of this tyrant wild?  
Or hath fond love thy heart so overgone?  
Wouldst thou not live, nor let me die alone?   

31  
Thus spoke the nymph, yet spoke but to the wind,  
She could not alter his well settled thought:  
O miracle! O strife of wondrous kind!  
Where love and virtue such contention wrought,  
Where death the victor had for meed assigned,  
Their own neglect, each others safety sought;  
But thus the king was more provoked to ire,  
Their strife for bellows served to anger's fire.   

32  
He thinks (such thoughts self-guiltiness finds out)  
They scorned his power, and therefore scorned the pain:  
Nay, nay, quoth he, let be your strife and doubt,  
You both shall win, and fit reward obtain.  
With that the sergeant hent the young man stout,  
And bound him likewise in a worthless chain;  
Then back to back fast to a stake both ties,  
Two harmless turtles, dight for sacrifies.   

33  
About the pile of faggots, sticks and hay,  
The bellows raised the newly kindled flame,  
When thus Olindo, in a doleful lay,  
Begun too late his bootless plaints to frame:  
Be these the bonds? Is this the hopt-for day  
Should join me to this long desired dame?  
Is this the fire alike should burn our hearts?  
Ah hard reward for lovers kind deserts!   

34  
Far other flames and bonds kind lovers prove,  
But thus our fortune casts the hapless die,  
Death hath exchanged again his shafts with love,  
And Cupid thus lets borrowed arrows fly.  
O Hymen say, what fury doth thee move  
To lend thy lamps to light a tragedy?  
Yet this contents me that I die for thee,  
Thy flames, not mine, my death and torment be.   

35  
Yet happy were my death, mine ending blest,  
My torments easy, full of sweet delight,  
If this I could obtain, that breast to breast  
Thy bosom might receive my yielded sprite;  
And thine with it in heavens pure clothing dressed,  
Through clearest skies might take united flight.  
Thus he complained, whom gently she reproved,  
And sweetly spoke him thus, that so her loved.   

36  
Far other plaints (dear friend) tears and laments  
The time, the place, and our estates require,  
Think on thy sins, which man's old foe presents  
Before that judge that quites each soul his hire,  
For his name suffer, for no pain torments  
Him, whose just prayers to his throne aspire:  
Behold the heavens, thither thine eyesight bend,  
Thy looks, sighs, tears, for intercessors send:   

37  
The Pagans loud cried out to God and man,  
The Christians mourned in silent lamentation,  
The tyrant's self (a thing unused) began  
To feel his heart relent, with mere compassion,  
But not disposed to ruth or mercy than,  
He sped him thence, home to his habitation:  
Sophronia stood not grieved, nor discontented,  
By all that saw her (but herself) lamented.   

38  
The lovers standing in this doleful wise,  
A warrior bold unwares approached near,  
In uncouth arms clad and strange disguise,  
From countries far but new arrived there,  
A savage tigress on her helmet lies,  
The famous badge Clorinda used to bear,  
That wonts in every warlike stowre to win,  
By which bright sign well known was that fair inn.   

39  
She scorned the arts these seely women use,  
Another thought her nobler humour fed,  
Her lofty hand would of itself refuse  
To touch the dainty needle, or nice thread,  
She hated chambers, closerts, secret mews,  
And in broad fields preserved her maidenhed:  
Proud were her looks, yet sweet, though stern and stout,  
Her dame a dove, thus brought an eagle out.   

40  
While she was young, she used with tender hand  
The foaming steed with froarie bit to steer,  
To tilt and tourney, wrestle in the sand,  
To leave with speed Atlanta swift arrear,  
Through forests wild and unfrequented land  
To chase the Lion, boar or rugged bear,  
The satires rough, the fawns and Fairies wild,  
She chased oft, oft took, and oft beguiled.   

41  
This lusty Lady came from Persia late,  
She with the Christians had encountered eft,  
And in their flesh had opened many a gate  
By which their faithful souls their bodies left,  
Her eye at first presented her the state  
Of these poor souls, of hope and help bereft,  
Greedy to know (as is the mind of man:)  
Their cause of death, swift to the fire she ran.   

42  
The people made her room, and on them twain  
Her piercing eyes their fiery weapons dart,  
Silent she saw the one, the other plain,  
The weaker body lodged the nobler heart:  
Yet him she saw lament, as if his pain  
Were grief and sorrow for another's smart,  
And her keep silence so, as if her eyes  
Dumb orators were to entreat the skies.   

43  
Clorinda changed to ruth her warlike mood,  
Few silver drops her vermile cheeks depaint,  
Her sorrow was for her that speechless stood,  
Her silence more prevailed than his complaint,  
She asked an aged man, seemed grave and good,  
Come say me sire (quoth she) what hard constraint  
Would murder here loves Queen, and beauty's king?  
What fault or fate doth to this death them bring?   

44  
Thus she inquired, and answer short he gave,  
But such as all the chance at large disclosed,  
She wondered at the case, the virgin brave  
That both were guiltless of the fault supposed,  
Her noble thought cast how she might them save,  
The means on suit or battle she reposed,  
Quick to the fire she ran, and quenched it out,  
And thus bespoke the sergeant and the rout:   

45  
Be there not one among you all that dare  
In this your hateful office ought proceed,  
Till I return from court, nor take you care  
To reap displeasure for not making speed:  
To do her will the men themselves prepare,  
In their faint hearts her looks such terror breed,  
To court she went, their pardon would she get,  
But on the way the courteous king she met.   

46  
Sir king, quoth she, my name Clorinda hight,  
My fame perchance hath pierced your ears ere now,  
I come to try my wonted power and might,  
And will defend this land, this town, and you,  
All hard assays esteem I each and light,  
Great acts I reach to, to small things I bow,  
To fight in field, or to defend this wall,  
Point what you list, I nought refuse at all.   

47  
To whom the king, what land so far remote  
From Asia's coasts, or Phoebus' glistering rays,  
(O glorious virgin) that recordeth not  
Thy fame, thine honour, worth, renown and praise?  
Since on my side I have thy succours got,  
I need not fear in these mine aged days,  
For in thine aid more hope, more trust I have,  
Than in whole armies of these soldiers brave.   

48  
Now Godfrey stays too long, he fears I ween,  
Thy courage great keeps all our foes in awe,  
For thee all actions far unworthy been  
But such as greatest danger with them draw,  
Be you commandress therefore, Princess, Queen  
Of all our forces, be thy word a law.  
This said, the virgin 'gan her beavoir vale,  
And thanked him first, and thus began her tale.   

49  
A thing unused (great monarch) may it seem,  
To ask reward for service, yet to come;  
But so your virtuous bounty I esteem,  
That I presume for to entreat, this groom  
And seely maid from danger to redeem,  
Condemned to burn by your unpartial doom,  
I not excuse, but pity much their yuth,  
And come to you for mercy and for ruth.   

50  
Yet give me leave to tell your highness this,  
You blame the Christians, them my thoughts acquit,  
Nor be displeased, I say you judge amiss,  
At every shot look not to hit the white,  
All what th'enchanter did persuade you, is  
Against the lore of Macons' sacred rite,  
For us commandeth mighty Mahomet  
No idols in his temples pure to set.   

51  
To him therefore this wonder done refar,  
Give him the praise and honour of the thing,  
Of us the god's benign so careful are  
Lest customs strange into their church we bring,  
Let Ismen with his squares and trigons war,  
His weapons be the staff, the glass, the ring;  
But let us menage war with blows, like knights,  
Our praise in arms, our honour lies in fights.   

52  
The virgin held her peace when this was said:  
And though to pity never framed his thought,  
Yet for the king admired the noble maid,  
His purpose was not to deny her aught,  
I grant them life (quoth he) your promised aid  
Against these Frenchmen, hath their pardon bought:  
Nor further seek what their offences be,  
Guiltless I quite; guilty, I set them free.   

53  
Thus were they loosed, happiest of human kind  
Olindo, blessed be this act of thine,  
True witness of thy great and heavenly mind,  
Where sun, moon, stars, of love, faith, virtue, shine.  
So forth they went and left pale death behind,  
To joy the bliss of marriage rites divine,  
With her he would have died, with him content  
Was she to live, that would with her have brent.   

54  
The king (as wicked thoughts are most suspicious)  
Supposed too fast this tree of virtue grew,  
O blessed Lord! why should this Pharoe vicious,  
Thus tyrannize upon thy Hebrews true?  
Who to perform his will, vile and malicious,  
Exiled these, and all the faithful crew,  
All that were strong of body, stout of mind,  
But kept their wives and children pledge behind.   

55  
A hard division, when the harmless sheep  
Must leave their lambs to hungry wolves in charge,  
But labour's virtues watching, ease her sleep,  
Trouble best wind that drives salvations barge,  
The Christians fled, whither they took no keep,  
Some strayed wild among the forests large,  
Some to Emmaus to the Christian host,  
And conquer would again their houses lost.   

56  
Emmaus is a city small, that lies  
From zions walls distant a little way,  
A man that early on the morn doth rise,  
May thither walk ere third hour of the day.  
Oh, when the Christian Lords this town espies  
How merry were their hearts? how fresh? how gay?  
But for the sun inclined fast to west,  
That night there would their chieftain take his rest.   

57  
Their canvas castles up they quickly rear,  
And build a city in an hours space,  
When lo (disguised in unusual gear)  
Two Barons bold approach 'gan the place,  
Their semblance kind, and mild their gestures wear,  
Peace in their hands and friendship in their face,  
From Egypt's king ambassadors they come,  
Them many a squire attends, and many a groom.   

58  
The first Aletes, borne in lowly shed  
Of parents base, a rose, sprung from a brier,  
That now his branches over Egypt spread,  
No plant in Pharaoh's garden prospered hire,  
With pleasing tales his Lords vain ears he fed,  
A flatterer, a pickthank, and a liar,  
Cursed be estate got with so many a crime,  
Yet this is oft the stair by which men climb.   

59  
Argantes called is that other knight,  
A stranger came he late to Egypt land,  
And there advanced was to honour's height,  
For he was stout of courage, strong of hand,  
Bold was his heart, and restless was his sprite,  
Fierce, stern, outrageous, keen as sharpened brand,  
Scorner of God, scant to himself a friend,  
And pricked his reason on his weapon's end,   

60  
These two entreatance made they might be hard,  
Nor was their just petition long denied;  
The gallants quickly made their court of guard,  
And brought them in where sat their famous guide,  
Whose kingly look his princely mind declared,  
Where noblesse, virtue, troth and valour bide,  
A slender curtsy made Argantes bold,  
So as one prince salute another would.   

61  
Aletes laid his right hand on his heart,  
Bend down his head, and cast his eyes full low,  
And reverence made with courtly grace and art,  
For all that humble lore to him was know,  
His sober lips than did he softly part,  
Whence of pure rhetoric, whole streams out flow,  
And thus he said, (while on the Christian Lords  
Down fell the mildew of his sugared words.)   

62  
O only worthy, whom the earth all fears,  
High God defend thee, with his heavenly shield,  
And humble so the hearts of all thy pears,  
That their stiff necks to thy sweet yoke may yield:  
These be the sheaves that honour's harvest bears,  
The seed thy valiant acts, the world the field,  
Egypt the headland is, where heaped lies  
Thy fame, worth, justice, wisdom, victories.   

63  
These all together, doth our sovereign hide  
In secret storehouse of his princely thought,  
And prays he may in long accordance bide  
With that great worthy, which such wonders wrought,  
Nor that oppose against the coming tide  
Of profred love, for that he is not taught  
Your Christian faith, for though of divers kind,  
The loving vine about her elm is twined.   

64  
Receive therefore in that unconquered hand  
The precious handle of this cup of love,  
If not religion, virtue be the band  
Twixt you to fasten friendship, not to move:  
But for our mighty king doth understand,  
You mean your power 'gainst Juda land to prove,  
He would, before this threatened tempest fell,  
I should his mind and princely will first tell.   

65  
His mind is this, he prays thee be contented  
To joy in peace, the conquests thou hast got,  
Be not thy death, or zions fall lamented,  
Forbear this land, Judea trouble not,  
Things done in haste at leisure be repent:  
Withdraw thine arms, trust not uncertain lot,  
For oft we see what least we think betide,  
He is thy friend 'gainst all the world beside.   

66  
True labour in the vineyard of thy Lord,  
Ere prime thou hast th'imposed day-worke done,  
What armies conquered, perished with thy sword?  
What cities sacked? what kingdoms hast thou won?  
All ears are maz'de, while tongues thine acts record,  
Hands quake for fear, all feet for dread do run,  
And though no realms you may to thraldom bring,  
No higher can your praise, your glory spring.   

67  
Thy sin is in his Apogaeon placed,  
And when it moveth next, must needs descend,  
Chance is uncertain, fortune double faced,  
Smiling at first, she frowneth in the end,  
Beware thine honour be not then disgraced,  
Take heed thou mar not, when thou thinkest to mend,  
For this the folly is of fortunes play,  
'Gainst doubtful, certain; much, 'gainst small, to lay.   

68  
Yet still we sail while prosperous blows the wind,  
Till on some secret rock unwares we light,  
The sea of glory hath no banks assigned,  
They who are wont to win in every fight,  
Still feed the fire, that so inflames thy mind  
To bring more nations subject to thy might;  
This makes thee blessed peace so light to hold,  
Like summers flies that fear not winters cold.   

69  
They bid thee follow on the path, now made  
So plain and easy, enter fortunes gate,  
Nor in thy scabbard sheathe that famous blade  
Till settled be thy kingdom, and estate,  
Till Macons' sacred doctrine fall and fade,  
Till woeful Asia, all lie desolate.  
Sweet words I grant, baits and allurements sweet,  
But greatest hopes oft greatest crosses meet.   

70  
For, if thy courage do not blind thine eyes,  
If clouds of fury hide not reasons beams,  
Then Mayst thou see this desperate enterpries,  
The field of death, watered with dangers streams,  
High state the bed is where misfortune lies,  
Mars most unfriendly, when most kind he seams,  
Who climbeth high, on earth he hardest lights,  
And lowest falls, attend the highest flights.   

71  
Tell me, if great in counsel, arms and gold,  
The Prince of Egypt, war 'gainst you prepare?  
What if the valiant Turks and Persians bold,  
Unite their forces with Cassan●es hair?  
O then, what marble pillar shall uphold  
The falling trophies of your conquests fair?  
Trust you the monarch of the Greekish land?  
That reed will break; and breaking, wound your hand.   

72  
The Greekish faith is like that half cut tree,  
By which men take wild Elephants in Ind,  
A thousand times it hath beguiled thee,  
As firm as waves in seas, or leaves in wind.  
Will they, who erst denied you passage free,  
(Passage to all men free, by use and kind)  
Fight for your sake? or on them do you trust  
To spend their blood, that could fierce spare their dust?   

73  
But all your hope and trust perchance is laid  
In these strong troops, which thee environ round;  
Yet foes unite are not so soon dismayed,  
As when their strength you erst divided found:  
Besides, each hour thy bands are weaker maid  
With hunger, slaughter, lodging on cold ground,  
Meanwhile the Turks seek succours from our king,  
Thus fade thy helps, and thus thy cumbers spring,   

74  
Suppose no weapon can thy valour's pride  
Subdue, that by no force thou Mayst be won,  
Admit no steel can hurt or wound thy side,  
And be it heaven hath thee such favout done;  
'Gainst famine yet what shield canst thou provide?  
What strength resist? what sleight her wrath can shun?  
Go shake thy spear, and draw thy flaming blade,  
And try if hunger so be weaker made.   

75  
Th'inhabitants each pasture and each plain  
Destroyed have, each field to waste is lad,  
In fenced towers bestowed is their grain,  
Before thou cam'st this kingdom to invade,  
These horse and foot, how canst thou then sustain?  
Whence comes thy store? whence thy provision made?  
Thy ships to bring it are (perchance) assigned,  
O that you live so long as please the wind!   

76  
Perhaps thy fortune doth control the wind,  
Doth lose or bind their blasts in secret cave,  
The sea (perdie) cruel and deaf by kind,  
Will hear thy call, and still her raging wave:  
But if our armed galleys be assigned  
To aid those ships, which Turks and Persians have,  
Say then, what hope is left thy slender fleet?  
Dare flocks of crows, a flight of Eagles meet?   

77  
My Lord, a double conquest must you make,  
If you achieve renown by this empries:  
For if our fleet your navy chase or take,  
For want of victails all your camp then dies;  
Or if by land the field you once forsake,  
Then vain by sea were hope of victories.  
Nor could your ships restore your lost estate:  
For steed once stolen, we shut the door too late.   

78  
In this estate, if thou esteemest light  
The profred kindness of th'Egyptian king,  
Then give me leave to say, this oversight  
Beseems thee not, in whom such virtues spring:  
But heavens vouchsafe to guide thy mind aright  
To gentle thoughts, that peace and quiet bring,  
So that poor Asia her complaints may cease,  
And you enjoy your conquest got, in peace.   

79  
Nor ye that part in these adventures have,  
Part in his glory, partners in his harms,  
Let not blind fortune so your minds desave,  
To stir him more to try these fierce alarms,  
But like the failer (scaped from the wave)  
From further peril, that his person arms,  
By staying safe at home, so stay you all,  
Better fit still (men say) than rise to fall.   

80  
This said Aletes: and a murmur rose  
That show'd dislike among the Christian pears,  
Their angry gestures with mislike disclose,  
How much his speech offends their noble ears.  
Lord Godfrey's eye three times environ goes,  
To view what countenance every warrior bears,  
And lastly on th'Egyptian Baron stayed,  
To whom the Duke thus (for his answer) said.   

81  
Ambassador, full both of threats and praise,  
Thy doubtful message hast thou wisely told,  
And if thy sovereign love us (as he says)  
Tell him he sows, to reap an hundredth fold,  
But where thy talk the coming storm displays  
Of threatened warfare, from the Pagans bold:  
To that I answer (as my custom is)  
In plainest phrase, lest mine intent thou mis.   

82  
Know, that till now we suffered have much pain,  
By lands and seas, where storms and tempests fall,  
To make the passage easy, safe and plain  
That leads us to this venerable wall,  
That so we might reward from heaven obtain,  
And free this town, from being longer thrall;  
Nor is it grievous to so good an end  
Our honours, kingdoms, lives and goods to spend.   

83  
Not hope of praise, nor thirst of worldly good,  
Enticed us to follow this emprise,  
The heavenly father keep his sacred brood  
From foul infection of so great a vice:  
But by our zeal aye be that plague withstood,  
Let not those pleasures us to sin entice.  
His grace, his mercy, and his powerful hand  
Will keep us safe from hurt, by sea and land.   

84  
This is the spur, that makes our coursers run;  
This is our harbour, safe from dangers floods:  
This is our beild, the blustering winds to shun:  
This is our guide, through deserts, forests, woods,  
This is our summers shade, our winter's sun:  
This is our wealth, our treasure, and our goods:  
This is our engine, towers that overthroes,  
Our spear that hurts, our sword that wounds our foes.   

85  
Our courage hence, our hope, our valour springs,  
Not from the trust we have in shield or spear,  
Not from the succours France or Grecia brings,  
On such weak posts we list no buildings rear:  
He can defend us from the power of kings,  
From chance of war, that makes weak hearts to fear,  
He can these hungry troops, with Manna feed,  
And make the seas, land; if we passage need.   

86  
But if our sins us of his help deprive,  
Or his high justice let no mercy fall;  
Yet should our deaths us some contentment give,  
To die, where Christ received his burial,  
So might we die, not envying them that live;  
So would we die, not unrevenged all:  
Nor Turks, nor Christians (if we perish such)  
Have cause to joy, or to complain too much.   

87  
Think not that wars we love, and strife affect,  
Or that we hate sweet peace, or rest denay,  
Think not your sovereigns' friendship we reject,  
Because we list not in our conquests stay:  
But for it seems he would the Jews protect,  
Pray him from us that thought aside to lay,  
Nor us forbid this town and realm to gain,  
And he in peace, rest, joy, long mote he rain.   

88  
This answer given, Argantes wild drew nar,  
Trembling for ire, and waxing pale for rage,  
Nor could he hold, his wrath increased so far,  
But thus (inflamed) bespoke the captain sage:  
Who scorneth peace, shall have his fill of war,  
I thought thy wisdom should thy fury suage,  
But well you show what joy you take in fight,  
Which makes you prize our love and friendship light.   

89  
This said, he took his mantles foremost part,  
And 'gan the same together fold and wrap;  
Then spoke again with fell and spiteful heart,  
(So lions roar enclosed in train or trap)  
Thou proud despiser of inconstant Mart,  
I bring thee war and peace closed in this lap,  
Take quickly one, thou hast no time to muse;  
If peace, we rest; we fight, if war thou choose.   

90  
His semblant fierce and speeches proud, provoke  
The soldiers all, war, at once to cry,  
Nor could they tarry till their chieftain spoke,  
But for the knight was more inflamed hereby,  
His lap he opened and spread forth his cloak:  
To mortal wars (he says) I you defy;  
And this he uttered with fell rage and hate,  
And seemed of janus church t'undo the gate.   

91  
It seemed fury, discord, madness fell  
Flew from his lap, when he unfolds the same,  
His glaring eyes with anger's venom swell,  
And like the brand of foul Allecto flame,  
He looked like huge Tiphoius loosed from hell  
Again to shake heavens everlasting frame,  
Or him that built the tower on Shinaar,  
Which threat'neth battle 'gainst the morning star.   

92  
Godfredo then; depart, and bid your king  
Haste hitherward, or else within short while,  
(For gladly we accept the war you bring)  
Let him expect us on the banks of Nile.  
He entertained them then with banqueting,  
And gifts presented to those Pagans vile;  
Aletes had a helmet, rich and gay,  
Late found at Nice, among the conquered prey;   

93  
Argant a sword, whereof the web was steel,  
Pommel, rich stone; hilts, gold, approved by tuch,  
With rarest workmanship all forged we'll,  
The curious art excelled the substance much:  
Thus fair, rich, sharp; to see, to have, to feel,  
Glad was the Painim to enjoy it such,  
And said, how I this gift can use and wield,  
Soon shall you see, when first we meet in field.   

94  
Thus took they congee, and the angry knight  
Thus to his fellow parled on their way,  
Go thou by day, but let me walk by night,  
Go thou to Egypt, I at Zion stay,  
The answer given thou canst unfold aright,  
No need of me what I can do or say,  
Among these arms I will go wreak my spite,  
Let Paris court it, Hector loved to fight.   

95  
Thus he, who late arrived a messengar,  
Departs a foe, in act, in word, in thought,  
The law of nations, or the lore of war,  
If he transgress, or no, he reaketh nought.  
Thus parted they, and ere he wandered far  
The friendly starlight to the walls him brought:  
Yet his fell heart thought long that little way,  
Grieved with each stop, tormented with each stay.   

96  
Now spread the night her spangled canopy,  
And summoned every restless eye to sleep:  
On beds of tender grass the beasts down lie,  
The fishes slumbered in the silent deep,  
Unheard was serpents hiss, and dragons cry,  
Birds left to sing, and Philomene to weep,  
Only that noise heavens rolling circles kest,  
Sung lullaby, to bring the world to rest.   

97  
Yet neither sleep, nor ease, nor shadows dark,  
Can make the faithful camp or captain rest,  
They longed to see the day, to hear the lark  
Record her hymns and chant her carols blest,  
They earned to view the walls, the wished mark  
To which their journeys long they had addressed,  
Each heart attends, each longing eye beholds  
What beam the eastren window first unfolds.    

The third book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The camp at great Jerusalem arrives:  
Clorinda gives them battle, in the breast  
Of fair Erminia Tancred's love revives,  
He justs with her unknown whom he loved best,  
Argant th' adventrers of their guide deprives,  
With stately pomp they lay their Lord in chest:  
Godfrey commands to cut the forest down,  
And make strong engines to assault the town.   

1  
THe purple morning left her crimson bed,  
And donned her robes of pure vermilion hue,  
Her amber locks she crowned with roses red,  
In Eden's flowery gardens gathered new.  
When through the camp a murmur shrill was spread,  
Arm, arm, they cried; arm, arm, the trumpets blue,  
Their merry noise prevents the joyful blast,  
So hum small bees, before their swarms they cast.   

2  
Their captain rules their courage, guides their heat,  
Their forwardness he stayed with gentle rain;  
And yet more easy (haply) were the feat  
To stop the currant near Charybdis main,  
Or calm the blustering winds on mountains great,  
Than fierce desires of warlike hearts restrain;  
He rules them yet, and ranks them in their haste,  
For well he knows disordered speed, makes waste.   

3  
Feathered their thoughts, their feet in wings were dight,  
Swiftly they Marched, yet were not tired thereby,  
For willing minds make heaviest burdens light.  
But when the gliding sun was mounted high,  
Jerusalem (behold) appeared in sight,  
Jerusalem they view, they see, they spy,  
Jerusalem with merry noise they greet,  
With joyful shouts, and acclamations sweet.   

4  
As when a troup of jolly sailors row  
Some newfound land, and country to descry,  
Through dangerous seas and under stars vnknow,  
Thrall to the faithless waves, and trothless sky,  
If once the wished shore begin to show,  
They all salute it with a joyful cry,  
And each to other show the land in haste,  
Forgetting quite their pains and perils past.   

5  
To that delight which their first sight did breed,  
That pleased so the secret of their thought,  
A deep repentance did forthwith succeed,  
That reverend fear and trembling with it brought.  
Scantly they durst their feeble eyes despreed  
Upon that town, where Christ was sold and bought,  
Where for our sins he faultless suffered pain,  
There where he died and where he lived again:   

6  
Softwords, low speech, deep sobs, sweet sighs, salt tears  
Rose from their breasts, with joy and pleasure mixed;  
For thus fares he the Lord aright that fears,  
Fear on devotion, joy on faith is fixed:  
Such noise their passions make, as when one hears  
The hoarse sea waves, roar hollow rocks betwixt;  
Or as the wind in houltes and shady greaves  
A murmur makes, among the boughs and leaves.   

7  
Their naked feet troad on the dusty way,  
Following th'ensample of their zealous guide,  
Their searffes, their crests, their plumes, and feathers gay,  
They quickly doffed, and willing laid aside,  
Their molten hearts their wonted pride allay,  
Along their watery cheeks warm tears down slide,  
And then such secret speech as this, they used,  
While to himself, each one himself accused.   

8  
Flower of goodness, root of lasting bliss,  
Thou well of life, whose streams were purple blood  
That flowed here, to cleanse the fowl amiss  
Of sinful man, behold this brinish flood,  
That from my melting heart distilled is,  
Receive in gree these tears (O Lord so good)  
For never wretch with sin so overgone,  
Had fit time, or greater cause to moon.   

9  
This while the wary watchman looked over  
(From tops of zions towers) the hills and dales,  
And saw the dust the fields and pastures cover,  
As when thick mists arise from moorie vales.  
At last the sunbright shields he 'gan discover,  
And glistering helms for violence none that falls,  
The metal shone like lightning bright in skies,  
And man and horse amid the dust descries.   

10  
Then loud he cries, O what a dust ariseth?  
Oh how it shines with shields and targets clear?  
Up, up, to arms, for valiant heart despiseth  
The threatened storm of death, and danger near,  
Behold your foes; then further thus deviseth,  
Haste, haste, for vain delay increaseth fear,  
These horrid clouds of dust that yonder fly,  
Your coming foes doth hide, and hide the sky.   

11  
The tender children, and the father's old,  
The aged matrons, and the virgin chaste,  
That durst not shake the spear, nor target hold,  
Themselves devoutly in their temples placed,  
The rest, of members strong and courage bold;  
On hardy breasts their harness donned in haste,  
Some to the walls, some to the gates them dight,  
Their king meanwhile directs them all aright.   

12  
All things well ordered, he withdrew with speed  
Up to a turret high, two ports between,  
That so he might be near at every need,  
And overlook the lands and furrows green,  
Thither he did the sweet Erminia lead,  
That in his court had entertained been  
Since Christians Antioch did to bondage bring,  
And slew her father, who thereof was king.   

13  
Against their foes Clorinda sallied out,  
And many a Baron bold was by her side,  
Within the postern stood Argantes stout  
To rescue her, if ill might her betide:  
With speeches brave she cheered her warlike rout,  
And with bold words them hart'ned as they ride,  
Let us by some brave act (quoth she) this day  
Of Asia's hopes the groundwork found and lay.   

14  
While to her folk thus spoke the virgin brave,  
Thereby behold forth past a Christian band,  
Towards the camp that herds of cattle drove,  
For they that morn had forraid all the land,  
The fierce Virago would that booty save,  
Whom their commander singled hand for hand,  
A mighty man at arms, who Guardo height,  
But far too weak to match with her in fight.   

15  
They met, and low in dust was Guardo laid,  
Twixt either army, from his cell down kest,  
The Pagans shout for joy, and hopeful said,  
Those good beginnings would have end blessed:  
Against the rest on went the noble maid,  
She broke the helm, and pierced the armed breast,  
Her men the paths road through made by her sword,  
They pass the stream where she had found the ford.   

16  
Soon was the prey out of their hands recovered,  
By step and step the Frenchmen 'gan retire,  
Till on a little hill at last they hou'red,  
Whose strength preserved them from Clorindas' ire:  
When, as a tempest that hath long been covered  
In watery clouds, breaks out with sparkling fire.  
With his strong squadron Lord Tancredie came,  
His heart with rage, his eyes with courage flame:   

17  
Mast great the spear was which the gallant boar,  
That in his warlike pride he made to shake,  
As winds tall Cedars toss on mountains hoar;  
The king, that wondered at his bravery, spoke  
To her, that near him seated was before,  
Who felt her heart with loves hot fever quake,  
Well shouldst thouknow (quoth he) each Christian (knight  
By long acquaintance, though in armour dight.   

18  
Say, who is he shows so great worthiness,  
That rides so rank, and bends his lance so fell?  
To this the Princess said nor more nor less,  
Her heart, with sighs; her eyes, with tears did swell;  
But sighs and tears she wisely could suppress,  
Her love and passion she dissembled well,  
And strove her love and hot desire to cover,  
Till heart with sighs, and eyes with tears run over.   

19  
At last she spoke, and with a crafty slight  
Her secret love disguised in clothes of hate,  
Alas too well (she says) I know that knight,  
I saw his force and courage proved late,  
Too late I viewed when his power and might  
shook down the pillar of Cassanoes state,  
Alas what wounds he gives? how fierce, how fell?  
No physic helps them cure, nor magic's spell.   

20  
Tancred he hight, O Macon would he wear  
My thrall, ere fates him of this life deprive,  
For to his hateful head such spite I bear,  
I would him reave his cruel heart on live.  
Thus said she, they that her complain hear  
In other sense her wishes credit give.  
She sighed withal, they construed all amiss,  
And thought she wished to kill, who longed to kiss.   

71  
This while forth pricked Clorinda from the throng,  
And 'gainst Tancredie set her spear in rest,  
Upon their helms they cracked their lances long,  
And from her head her guilden cask he kest,  
For every lace he broke and every thong,  
And in the dust threw down her plumed crest,  
About her shoulders shone her golden locks,  
Like sunny beams, on alabaster rocks.   

22  
Her looks with fire, her eyes with lightning blaze,  
Sweet was her wrath, what then would be her smile?  
Tancred whereon thinkest thou? what dost thou gaze?  
Hast thou forgot her in so short a while?  
The same is she, the shape of whose sweet face  
The god of love did in thy heart compile,  
The same that left thee by the cooling stream,  
Safe from suns heat, but scorched with beauty's beam.   

23  
The Prince well knew her, though her painted shield  
And golden helm he had not marked before,  
She saved her head, and with her axe (well stield,)  
Assailed the knight but her the knight forbore,  
'Gainst other foes he proved him through the field,  
Yet she for that refrained near the more,  
But following turn thee cried, in ireful wise;  
And so at once she threats to kill him twice.   

24  
Not once the Baron lift his armed hand  
To strike the maid, but gazing on her eyes,  
Where lordly Cupid seemed in arms to stand,  
No way to ward or shun her blows he tries;  
But softly says, no stroke of thy strong hand  
Can vanquish Tancred, but thy conquest lies  
In those fair eyes, which fiery weapons dart,  
That find no lighting place except this heart.   

25  
Atlast resolved, although he hoped small grace,  
Yet ere he died to tell how much he loved,  
For pleasing words in women's ear find place,  
And gentle hearts with humble suit are moved.  
O thou (quoth he) withhold thy wrath a space,  
For if thou long to see my valour proved,  
Were it not better, from this warlike rout  
Withdrawn, somewhere, alone to fight it out?   

26  
So singled, may we both our courage try:  
Clorinda to that motion yielded glad,  
And helmless to the forrestward 'gan high,  
Wither the Prince right pensive went and sad,  
And there the virgin 'gan him soon defy,  
One blow she strooken and he warded had,  
When he cried hold, and ere we prove our might,  
First hear thou some conditions of the fight.   

27  
She stayed, and desperate love had made him bold,  
Since from the fight thou wilt no respite give,  
The covenants be (he said) that thou unfold  
This wretched bosom, and my heart out rive,  
Given thee long since, and if thou cruel would,  
I should be dead, let me no longer live,  
But pierce this breast, that all the world may say  
The Eagle made the turtle dove her prey.   

28  
Save with thy grace, or let thine anger kill,  
Love hath disarmed my life of all defence;  
An easy labour harmless blood to spill,  
Strike then, and punish where is none offence.  
This said the Prince, and more perchance had will  
To have declared, to move her cruel sense.  
But in ill time of Pagans thither came  
A troup, and Christians that pursued the same.   

29  
The Pagans fled before their valiant foes,  
For dread or craft, it skills not that we knew,  
A soldier wild, careless to win or loes,  
Saw where her locks about the damsel flew,  
And at her back he profreth (as he goes)  
To strike where her he did disarmed view:  
But Tancred cried, oh stay thy cursed hand,  
And for to ward the blow lift up his brand.   

30  
But yet the cutting steel arrived there,  
Where her fair neck adjoined her noble head,  
Light was the wound, but through her amber hear  
The purple drops down railed bloody read,  
So rubies set in flaming gold appear:  
But Lord Tancredie pale with rage as lead,  
Flew on the villain, who to flight him bound;  
The smart was his, though she received the wound:   

31  
The villain flies; he, full of rage and ire  
Pursues, she stood and wondered on them both,  
But yet to follow them show'd no desire,  
To stray so far she would perchance be loath,  
But quickly turned her, fierce as flaming fire,  
And on her foes wreaked her anger wroth,  
On every side she kills them down amain,  
And now she flies, and now she turns again:   

32  
As the swift Vre by Volgaes' rolling flood  
Chased through the plains the mastiff curs toforne,  
Flies to the succour of some neighbour wood,  
And often turns again his dreadful horn  
Against the dogs imbrued in sweat and blood,  
That bite not, till the beast to flight return;  
Or as the moors at their strange tennis run  
Defenst, the flying balls unhurt to shun:   

33  
So run Clorinda, so her foes pursued,  
Until they both approached the city's wall,  
When lo the Pagans their fierce wrath renewed,  
Cast in a ring about they wheeled all,  
And 'gainst the Christians backs and sides they showed  
Their courage fierce, and to new combat fall,  
When down the hill Argantes came to fight  
Like angry Mars to aid the Trojan knight,   

34  
Furious, to fore the foremost of his rank,  
In sturdy steel forth stepped the warrior bold,  
The first he smote down from his saddle sank,  
The next under his steed lay on the mould,  
Under the sarsens' spear the worthies shrank,  
No breastplate could that cursed tree out-hold,  
When that was broke his precious sword he drew,  
And whom he hit, he felled, hurt or slew.   

35  
Clorinda slew Ardelio, aged knight,  
Whose graver years would for no labour yield,  
His age was full of puissance and might,  
Two sons he had to guard his noble eild,  
The first (far from his father's care and sight)  
Caldoro Alicandro wounded lay in field,  
And Poliphern the younger by his side,  
Had he not nobly fought had surely died.   

36  
Tancred by this, that strove to overtake  
The villain that had hurt his only dear,  
From vain pursuit at last returned bake,  
And his brave troup discomfit saw well-near,  
Thither he spurred, and 'gan huge slaughter make,  
His shock no steed, his blow no knight could bear.  
For dead he strikes him whom he lights upon,  
So thunders break high trees on Libanon.   

37  
Dudon his squadron of adventrers brings,  
To aid the worthy and his tired crew,  
Before the res'due young Rinaldo flings  
As swift, as fiery lightning kindled new,  
His Argent Eagle with her silver wings  
In field of Azure, fair Erminta knew,  
See there sir king, (she says) a knight as bold  
And brave, as was the son of Peleus' old.   

38  
He wins the prize in just and tournament,  
His acts are numberless, though few his years,  
If Europe six like him to war had sent  
Among these thousands, strong of Christian pears,  
Syria were lost, lost were the Orient,  
And all the lands the Southern Ocean wears,  
Conquered were all hot Affrikes tawny kings,  
And all that dwell by Nilus unknown springs.   

39  
Rinaldo is his name, his armed fist  
Breaks down stone walls, when rams and engines fail;  
But turn your eyes because I would you witted  
What Lord that is, in green and golden mail,  
Dudon he hight who guideth as him list  
Th'adventurers troup, whose prowess seld doth fail,  
High birth, grave years and practise long in war,  
And fearless heart, make him renowned far.   

40  
See that big man, that all in brown is bound,  
Gernando called, the king of Norway's son,  
A prouder knight treads not on grass or ground,  
His pride hath lost the praise, his prowess won,  
And that kind pair in white all armed round,  
Is Edward and Gildippes', who begun  
Through love the hazard of fierce war to prove,  
Famous for arms, but famous more for love.   

41  
While thus they tell their foeman's worthiness,  
The slaughter rageth in the plain at large,  
Tancred and young Rinaldo break the press,  
They bruise the helm, and pierce the sevenfold targe,  
The troup by Dudon led performed no less,  
But in they come and give a furious charge:  
Argantes self, field at one single blow,  
Inglorious, bleeding lay, on earth full low:   

42  
Nor had the boaster ever risen more,  
But that Rinaldoes' horse even then down fell,  
And with the fall his leg oppressed so sore,  
That for a space there must he algates dwell.  
Meanwhile the Pagan troops were nigh forlese,  
Swiftly they fled, glad they escaped so well,  
Argantes and with him Clorinda stout,  
For bank and bulwark served to save the rout.   

43  
These fled the last, and with their force sustained  
The Christians rage, that followed them so near,  
Their scattered troops to safety well they trained,  
And while the res'due fled, the brunt these bear,  
Dudon pursued the victory he gained,  
And on Tigranes nobly broke his spear,  
Then with his sword headless to ground him cast,  
So gard'ners' branches lop, that spring too fast.   

44  
Algazers breastplate, of fine temper made,  
Nor Corbans helmet, forged by magic art,  
Can save their owners, for Lord Dudons' blade  
Cleft Corbans head, and pierced Algazers heart,  
And their proud souls down to th'infernal shade,  
From Amurath and Mahomet departed,  
Nor strong Argantes thought his life was sure,  
He could not safely fly, nor fight secure.   

45  
The angry Pagan bit his lips for teen,  
He ran, he stayed, he fled, he turned again,  
Until at last unmarkt, vnuiewed, unseen,  
(When Dudon had Almansor newly slain)  
Within his side he sheathed his weapon keen,  
Down fell the worthy on the dusty plain,  
And lifted up his feeble eyes uneath,  
Oppressed with leaden sleep, of iron death.   

46  
Three times he strove to view heavens golden ray,  
And raised him on his feeble elbow thrice,  
And thrice he tumbled on the lowly lay,  
And three times closed again his dying eyes,  
He speaks no word, yet makes he signs to pray,  
He sighs, he faints, he groans and then he dies:  
Argantes proud to spoil the corpse disdained,  
But shook his sword with blood of Dudon stained.   

47  
And turning to the Christian knights, he cried  
Lordings, behold, this bloody reeking blade,  
Last night was given me by your noble guide,  
Tell him what proof thereof this day is made,  
Needs must this please him well that is betide,  
That I so well can use this martial trade,  
To whom so rare a gift he did present,  
Tell him the workman fits the instrument.   

48  
If further proof hereof he long to see,  
Say it still thirsts, and would his heart blood drink;  
And if he haste not to encounter me,  
Say I will find him when he lest doth think:  
The Christians at his words enraged be,  
But he to shun their ire doth safely shrink  
Under the shelter, of the neighbour wall,  
Well guarded with his troops and soldiers all.   

49  
Like storms of hail the stones fell down from high,  
Cast from the bulwarks, flankers, ports and towers,  
The shafts and quarries from their engines fly,  
As thick as falling drops in April showers:  
The French withdrew, they list not press too nigh,  
The Sarrasins escaped all the powers.  
But now Rinaldo from the earth up leapt,  
Where by the leg his steed had long him kept;   

50  
He came and breathed vengeance from his breast  
'Gainst him that noble Dudon late had slain,  
And being come, thus spoke he to the rest,  
Warriors, why stand you gazing here in vain?  
Pale death our valiant leader hath oppressed,  
Come wreak his loss, whom bootless you complain.  
These walls are weak, they keep but cowards out,  
No rampire can withstand a courage stout.   

51  
Of double iron, brass or adamant,  
Or if this wall were built of flaming fire,  
Yet should the Pagan vile a fortress want  
To shroud his coward head safe from mine ire;  
Come follow then and bid base fear avant,  
The harder work deserves the greater hire:  
And with that word close to the walls he starts,  
Nor fears he arrows, quarries, stones or darts.   

52  
Above the waves as Neptune lift his eyes  
To chide the winds, that Trojan ships oppressed,  
And with his count nance calined seas, winds and skies;  
So looked Rinaldo, when he shook his crest  
Before those walls, each Pagan fears and flies  
His dreadful sight, or trembling stayed at lest:  
Such dread his awful visage on them cast,  
So seem poor doves at goshaukes' sight aghast,   

53  
The herald Sigiere now from Godfrey came,  
To will them stay and calm their courage hot,  
Retire, quoth he, Godfrey commands the same,  
To wreak your ire this season fitteth not:  
Though loath Rinaldo stayed, and stopped the flame  
That boiled in his hardy stomach hot;  
His bridled fury grew thereby more fell,  
So rivers stopped, above their banks do swell.   

54  
The bands retire, not dang'red by their foes  
In their retreat, so wise were they and wary,  
To murdered Dudon each lamenting goes,  
From wont use of ruth they list not vary,  
Upon their friendly arms they soft impose  
The noble burden of his corpse to carry:  
Meanwhile Godfredo from a mountain great  
Beheld the sacred city and her seat.   

55  
Jerusalem is seated on two hills  
Of height unlike, and turned side to side,  
The space between a gentle valley fills,  
From mount to mount expansed fair and wide.  
Three sides are sure imbard, with crags and hills,  
The rest is easy, scant to rise espied:  
But mighty bulwarks fence that plainer part,  
So art helps nature, nature strength'neth art.   

56  
The town is stored of troughs and cestrens, made  
To keep fresh water, but the country seams  
Devoid of grass, unfit, for ploughmen's trade,  
Not fertile, moist with rivers, wells and streams.  
There grow few trees, to make the summers shade,  
To shield the parched land from scorching beams,  
Save that a wood stands six mile from the town,  
With aged Cedars dark, and shadows brown.   

57  
By East, among the dusty valleys, glide  
The silver streams of Iordans crystal flood;  
By West, the midland sea, with bounders tied  
Of sandy shores, where Joppa whilom stood;  
By North Samaria stands, and on that side  
The golden calf was reared in Bethel wood;  
Bethleem by South, where Christ incarnate was,  
A pearl in steel, a diamond set in brass.   

58  
While thus the Duke on every side descried  
The city's strength, the walls and gates about,  
And saw where least the same was fortified,  
Where weakest seemed the walls to keep him out;  
Erminia as he armed road, him spied  
And thus bespoke the heathen tyrant stout,  
See Godfrey there, in purple clad and gold,  
His stately port, and princely look behold:   

59  
Well seems he borne to be with honour crowned,  
So well the lore he knows of regiment,  
Peerless in fight, in counsel grave and sound,  
The double gift of glory excellent,  
Among these armies is no warrior found  
Graver in speech, bolder in tournament.  
Raimond perdie in counsel match him might;  
Tancred and young Rinaldo like in fight.   

60  
To whom the king; he likes me well therefore,  
I knew him whilom in the court of France,  
When I from Egypt went Ambassadore,  
I saw him there break many a sturdy lance,  
And yet his chin no sign of manhood bore,  
His youth was forward, but with governance,  
His words, his actions, and his portance brave,  
Of future virtue, timely tokens gave.   

61  
Presages ah too true: with that a space  
He sighed for grief, then said, feign would I know  
The man in red, with such a knightly grace,  
A worthy Lord he seemeth by his show,  
How like to Godfrey looks he in the face?  
How like in person? but somedeal more low.  
Baldwine (quoth she) that noble Baron hight,  
By birth his brother, and his match in might.   

62  
Next look on him that seems for counsel fit,  
Whose silver locks bewray his store of days,  
Raimond he hight, a man of wondrous wit,  
Of Tholouse Lord, his wisdom is his praise,  
What he forethinkes doth (as he looks for) hit,  
His stratagems have good success always:  
With guilden helm beyond him rides the mild  
And good Prince William England's kings dear child.   

37  
With him is Guelpho as his noble mate,  
In birth, in acts, in arms alike the rest,  
I know him well, since I beheld him late,  
By his broad shoulders and his squared breast:  
But my proud foe that quite hath ruinated  
My high estate, and Antioch oppressed,  
I see not, Boemond, that to death did bring  
Mine aged Lord, my father and my king.   

64  
Thus talked they; meanwhile Godfredo went  
Down to the troops, that in the valley stayed,  
And for in vain he thought the labour spent,  
Tassaile those parts that to the mountains laid,  
Against the Northern gate his force he bend,  
'Gainst it he campt, 'gainst it his engines played,  
All felt the fury of his angry power,  
That from those gates lies to the corner tower.   

65  
The towns third part was this, or little less,  
Fore which the Duke his glorious ensigns spread,  
For so great compass had that fortress,  
That round it could not be environed  
With narrow siege, (nor Babel's king I guess  
That whilom took it, such an army led)  
But all the ways he kept, by which his foe  
Might to or from the city, come or go.   

66  
His care was next, to cast the trenches deep,  
So to preserve his resting camp by night,  
Lest from the city (while his soldiers sleep)  
They might assail them with untimely fight.  
This done, he went where Lords and Princes weep,  
With dire complaints, about the murdered knight,  
Where Dudon dead, lay slaughtered on the ground,  
And all the soldiers sat lamenting round.   

67  
His wailing friends adorned the mournful bear  
With woeful pomp, whereon his corpses they laid,  
And when they saw the Boulogne Prince draw near,  
All felt new grief, and each new sorrow maid,  
But he, withouten show or change of cheer,  
His springing tears within their fountains stayed,  
His rueful looks upon the coarse he cast  
Awhile, and thus bespoke the same at last.   

68  
We need not mourn for thee, here laid to rest,  
Earth is thy bed, and not thy grave, the skies  
Are for thy soul the cradle and the nest,  
There live, for here thy glory never dies:  
For like a Christian knight and champion blest  
Thou didst both live and die, now feed thine eyes  
With thy redeemers sight, where crowned with bliss  
Thy faith, zeal, merit, well-deserving is.   

69  
Our loss, not thine, provokes these plaints and tears,  
For when we lost thee, than our ship her mast,  
Our chariot lost her wheels, their points our spears,  
The bird of conquest her chief feather cast:  
But though thy death, far from our army bears  
Her chiefest earthly aid, in heaven yet placed  
Thou wilt procure us help divine, so reaps  
He, that sows godly sorrow, joy by heaps.   

70  
For if our God the Lord Armipotent  
Those armed Angels in our aid down send,  
That were at Dothan to his Prophet sent,  
Thou wilt come down with them, and well defend  
Our host, and with thy sacred weapons bend  
'Gainst zions for't, these gates and bulwarks rend,  
That so thy hand may win this hold, and we  
May in these temples praise our Christ for thee.   

71  
Thus he complained; but now the sable shade  
Icleped night, had thick enueloped  
The sun, in vail of double darkness made,  
Sleep, eased care; rest, brought complaint to bed:  
All night the wary Duke devising laid  
How that high wall should best be battered,  
How his strong engines he might aptly frame,  
And whence get timber, fit to build the same.   

72  
Up with the lark the sorrowful Duke arose,  
Amourner chief at Dudons' burial,  
Of cypress sad a pile his friends compose  
Under a hill, o'ergrown with Cedars tall,  
Beside the hearse a fruitful palm tree grows,  
(Ennobled since by this great funeral)  
Where Dudons' corpses they softly laid in ground,  
The priests sung hymns, the soldiers wept around.   

73  
Among the boughs, they here and there bestow  
Ensigns and arms, as witness of his praise,  
Which he from Pagan Lords, that did them owe,  
Had won in prosperous sights, and happy frays:  
His shield they fixed on the bowl below,  
And there this distich underwit, which says,  
This palm with stretched arms, doth overspread  
The champion Dudons glorious carcase dead.   

74  
This work performed with advisement good,  
Godfrey his carpenters, and men of skill  
In all the camp, sent to an aged wood,  
(With convoy meet to guard them safe from ill)  
Within a valley deep this forest stood,  
To Christian eyes unseen, unknown, until  
A Syrian told the Duke, who thither sent  
Those chosen workmen, that for timber went.   

75  
And now the axe raged in the forest wild,  
The echo sighed in the groves unseen,  
The weeping nymphs fled from their bowers exiled,  
Down fell the shady tops of shaking treene,  
Down came the sacred palms, the ashes wild,  
The funeral cypress, holly ever green,  
The weeping fir, thick Beech, and sailing Pine,  
The married elm fell with his fruitful vine.   

76  
The showter yew, the broad-leaved Sicamore,  
The barren Platane, and the walnut sound,  
The myrrh, that her foul sin doth still deplore,  
The Alder owner of all waterish ground,  
Sweet juniper, whose shadow hurteth sore,  
Proud Cedar, oak, the king of forests crowned,  
Thus fell the trees, with noise the deserts roar,  
The beasts, their caves; the birds, their nests forlore.    

The fourth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Satan his fiends and spirits assembleth all,  
And sends them forth to work the Christians woe,  
False Hidraort their aid from hell doth call,  
And sends Armida to entrap his foe:  
She tells her birth, her fortune and her fall,  
Asks aid, allures and wins the worthies so,  
That they consent her enterprise to prove;  
She wins them with deceit, craft, beauty, love.   

1  
WHile thus their work went on with lucky speed,  
And reared rams their horned fronts advance,  
The ancient foe to man, and mortal seed,  
His wannish eyes upon them bend askance;  
And when he saw their labours well succeed,  
He wept for rage, and threatened dire mischance,  
He choked his curses, to himself he spoke,  
Such noise wild bulls, that softly bellow make.   

2  
At last resolving in his damned thought,  
To find some let, to stop their warlike feat,  
He gave command his princes should be brought  
Before the throne of his infernal seat,  
O fool! as if it were a thing of nought  
God to resist, or change his purpose great,  
Who on his foes doth thunder in his ire,  
Whose arrows hailstones be, and coals of fire.   

3  
The dreary trumpet blew a dreadful blast,  
And rombled through the lands and kingdoms under,  
Through wastness wide it roared, and hollows vast,  
And filled the deep, with horror, fear and wonder,  
Not half so dreadful noise the tempests cast,  
That fall from skies, with storms of hail and thunder,  
Nor half so loud the whistling winds do sing,  
Broke from the earthen prisons of their king.   

4  
The peers of Pluto's realm assembled been  
Amid the palace of their angry king,  
In hideous forms and shapes, tofore unseen,  
That fear, death, terror and amazement bring,  
With ugly paws some trample on the green,  
Some gnaw the snakes that on their shoulders hang,  
And some their forked tails stretch forth on high,  
And tear the twinkling stars from trembling sky.   

5  
There were Cilenos foul and loathsome rout,  
There sphinxes, centaurs, there were Gorgon's fell,  
There howling Sulla's, yawling round about,  
There serpents hiss, there seu'n-mouthed Hydra's yell,  
Chunera there spews fire and brimstone out,  
And Poliphemus blind supporteth hell,  
Besides ten thousand monsters therein dwells  
Mis-shapt, unlike themselves, and like nought else.   

6  
About their Prince each took his wont seat  
On thrones red hot, ibuilt of burning brass,  
Pluto in midst heaved his trident great,  
Of rastie iron huge that forged was,  
The rocks, on which the salt sea billows beat,  
And Atlas' tops, the clouds in height that pass,  
Compared to his huge person, molehills be,  
So his rough front, his horns so lifted he.   

7  
The tyrant proud frowned from his lofty cell,  
And with his looks made all his monsters tremble,  
His eyes, that full of rage and venom swell,  
Two beacons seem, that men to arms assemble,  
His feltered locks, that on his bosom fell,  
On rugged mountains briars and thorns resemble,  
His yawning mouth, that foamed clotted blood,  
Gaped like a whirlpool wide in Stygian flood.   

8  
And as mount Aetna vomits sulphur out,  
With cliffs of burniag crags, and fire and smoke,  
So from his mouth flew kindled coals about,  
Hot sparks and smells, that man and beast would choke,  
The gnarring porter durstnot whine for doubt,  
Still were the Furies, while their sovereign spoke,  
And swift Cocytus stayed his murmur shrill,  
While thus the murderer thundered out his will.   

9  
Ye powers infernal, worthier far to sit  
Above the sun, whence you your offspring take,  
With me that whilom, through the welkin flit,  
Down tumbled headlong to this empty lake,  
Our former glory, still remember it,  
Our bold attempts and war we once did make  
'Gainst him, that rules above the starry sphere,  
For which like traitors we lie damned here.   

10  
And now in stead of clear and gladsome sky,  
Of Titan's brightness, that so glorious is,  
In this deep darkness lo we helpless lie,  
Hopeless again to joy our former bliss,  
And more (which makes my grieves to multiply)  
That sinful creature man, elected is,  
And in our place, the heavens possess he must,  
Vile man, begot of clay, and borne of dust.   

11  
Nor this sufficed, but that he also gave  
His only son, his darling to be slain,  
To conquer so, hell, death, sin and the grave,  
And man condemned to restore again,  
He broke our prisons and would algates save  
The souls that here should dwell in woe and pain,  
And now in heaven with him they live always  
With endless glory crowned, and lasting praise.   

12  
But why recount I thus our passed harms?  
Remembrance fresh makes weakened sorrows strong,  
Expulsed were we with injurious arms  
From those due honours, us of right belong.  
But let us leave to speak of these alarms,  
And bend our forces 'gainst our present wrong,  
Ah see you not, how he attempted hath  
To bring all lands, all nations to his faith?   

13  
Then, let us careless spend the day and night,  
Without regard what haps, what comes or goes.  
Let Asia subject be to Christians might,  
A pray be Zion to her conquering foes,  
Let her adore again her Christ aright,  
Who her before all nations whilom choes,  
In brazen tables be his lore iwrit,  
And let all tongues and lands acknowledge it.   

14  
So shall our sacred altars all be his,  
Our holy Idols tumbled in the mould,  
To him the wretched man, that sinful is,  
Shall pray, and offer incense, myrrh and gold;  
Our temples shall their costly deckings miss,  
With naked walls and pillars freezing cold,  
Tribute of souls shall end, and our estate,  
Or Pluto reign in kingdoms desolate.   

15  
Oh, be not than the courage perished clean,  
That whilom dwelled within your haughty thought,  
When, armed with shining fire and weapons keen,  
Against the Angels of proud heaven we fought,  
I grant we fell on the Phlegraean green,  
Yet good our cause was, though our fortune nought;  
For chance assisteth oft th'ignobler part,  
We lost the field, yet lost we not our heart.   

16  
Go then my strength, my hope, my spirits, go,  
These Western rebels, with your power withstand,  
Pluck up these weeds, before they overgroe  
The gentle garden of the Hebrews land,  
Quench out this spark, before it kindle so  
That Asia burn, consumed with the brand.  
Use open force, or secret guile unspied;  
For craft is virtue 'gainst a foe defied.   

17  
Among the knights and worthies of their train,  
Let some like outlaws wander uncouth ways,  
Let some be slain in field, let some again  
Make oracles of women's yeaes and nays,  
And pine in foolish love, let some complain  
On Godfrey's rule, and mutines 'gainst him raise,  
Turn each one's sword, against his fellows heart,  
Thus kill them all, or spoil the greatest part.   

18  
Before his words the tyrant ended had,  
The lesser devils arose with ghastly roar,  
And thronged forth about the world to gad,  
Each land they filled, river, stream and shore,  
The Goblins, Fairies, fiends and Furies mad,  
Ranged in flowery dales, and mountains hoar,  
And under every trembling leaf they sit,  
Between the solid earth and welkin flit.   

19  
About the world they spread both far and wide,  
Filling the thoughts of each ungodly heart,  
With secret mischief, anger, hate and pride,  
Wounding lost souls with sins empoisoned dart.  
But say (my muse) recount whence first they tried  
To hurt the Christian Lords, and from what part,  
Thou knowst of things performed so long agone,  
This later age hears little troth or none.   

20  
The town Damascus and the lands about  
Ruled Hidraort, a wizard grave and sage,  
Acquainted well with all the damned rout  
Of Pluto's reign, even from his tender age;  
Yet of this war he could not figure out  
The wished ending, or success presage;  
For neither stars above, nor powers of hell,  
Nor skill, nor art, nor charm, nor devil could tell.   

21  
And yet he thought (O vain conceit of man!  
Which as thou wishest, judgest things to come)  
That the French host to sure destruction ran,  
Condemned quite by heavens eternal doom:  
He thinks no force withstand or vanquish can  
Th'▪ Egyptian strength, and therefore would that some,  
Both of the pray and glory of the fight,  
Upon his Syrian folk should haply light.   

22  
But for he held the French men's worth in prize,  
And feared the doubtful gain of bloody war,  
He, that was closely false and slily wise,  
Cast how he might annoy them most from far:  
And as he 'gan upon this point devise,  
(As counsellors in ill still nearest are)  
At hand was Satan, ready, ere men need,  
If once they think to make them do the deed.   

23  
He counselled him how best to hunt his game,  
What dart to cast, what net, what toil to pitch,  
A niece he had, a nice and tender dame,  
Peerless in wit, in nature's blessings rich,  
To all deceit she could her beauty frame,  
False, fair and young, a virgin and a witch;  
To her he told the sum of this emprise,  
And praised her thus, for she was fair and wise.   

24  
My dear, who underneath these locks of gold,  
And native brightness of thy lovely hue,  
Hidest grave thoughts, ripe wit, and wisdom old,  
More skill than I, in all mine arts untrew,  
To thee my purpose great I must unfold,  
This enterprise thy cunning must pursue,  
weave thou to end this web which I begin,  
I will the distaff hold, come thou and spin.   

25  
Go to the Christians host, and there assay.  
All subtle sleights that women use in love,  
Shed brinish tears, sob, sigh, entreat and pray,  
Wring thy fair hands, cast up thine eyes above,  
(For mourning beauty hath much power (men say)  
The stubbron hearts with pity frail to move)  
Look pale for dread, and blush sometime for shame,  
In seeming troth thy lies will soon frame.   

26  
Take with the bait Lord Godfrey, if thou mast,  
Frame snares, of looks; trains, of alluring speech;  
For if he love, the conquest than thou hast,  
Thus purposed war thou Mayst with ease impeach,  
Else lead the other Lords to deserts waste,  
And hold them slaves far from their leaders reach:  
Thus taught he her, and for conclusion, saith,  
All things are lawful for our lands and faith.   

27  
The sweet Armida took this charge on hand,  
A tender piece, for beauty, sex and age,  
The sun was sunken underneath the land  
When she began her wanton pilgrimage,  
In silken weeds she trusteth to withstand,  
And conquer knights, in warlike equipage,  
Of their night ambling dame, the Syrians prated  
Some good, some bad, as they her loved or hated.   

28  
Within few days, the Nymph arrived there  
Where puissant Godfrey had his tents ipight;  
Upon her strange attire, and visage clear,  
Gazed each soldier, gazed every knight,  
As when a comet doth in skies appear,  
The people stand amazed at the light,  
So wondered they, and each at other sought,  
What mister wight she was, and whence ibrought.   

29  
Yet never eye to Cupid's service vowed  
Beheld a face of such a lovely pride,  
A tinsel vail her amber locks did shroud,  
That strove to cover what it could not hide,  
The golden sun, behind a silver cloud,  
So streameth out his beams on every side,  
The marble goddess, set at Guidos, naked,  
She seemed, were she unclothed, or that awaked.   

30  
The gamesome wind among her tresses plays,  
And curleth up, those growing riches, short;  
Her sparefull eye to spread his beams denaies,  
But keeps his shot, where Cupid keeps his fort;  
The rose and lily on her cheek, assays  
To paint true fairness out, in bravest sort,  
Her lips, where blooms nought but the single rose,  
Still blush, for still they kiss, while still they close.   

31  
Her breasts, two hills o'erspread with purest snow,  
Sweet, smooth and supple, soft and gently swelling,  
Between them lies a milken dale below,  
Where love, youth, gladness, whiteness make their dwelling,  
Her breasts half hid, and half were laid to show;  
Her envious vesture greedy sight repelling,  
So was the wanton clad, as if thus much  
Should please the eye, the rest unseen, the tuch.   

32  
As when the sunbeams dive through Tagus' wave,  
To spy the storehouse of his springing gold,  
Love piercing thought so through her mantle drove,  
And in her gentle bosom wandered bold:  
It viewed the wondrous beauty virgins have,  
And all to fond desire (with vantage) told,  
Alas what hope is left, to quench his fire  
That kindled is, by sight; blown, by desire.   

33  
Thus past she, praised, wished, and wondered at,  
Among the troops, who there encamped lay,  
She smiled for joy, but well dissembled that  
Her greedy eye chose out her wished prey;  
On all her gestnres, seeming virtue sat,  
Towards th'imperial tent she asked the way:  
With that she met a bold and lovesome knight,  
Lord Godfrey's youngest brother, Eustace hight.   

34  
This was the foul that first fell in the snare,  
He saw her fair, and hoped to find her kind;  
The throne of Cupid hath an easy stair,  
His bark is fit to fail with every wind,  
The breach he makes no wisdom can repair:  
With reverence meet the Baron low inclined,  
And thus his purpose to the virgin told,  
For youth, use, nature, all had made him bold.   

35  
Lady, if thee beseem a style so low,  
In whose sweet looks such sacred beauties shine,  
(For never yet did heaven such grace bestow  
On any daughter borne of Adam's line)  
Thy name let us (though far unworthy) know,  
Unfold thy will, and whence thou art in fine,  
Lest my audacious boldness learn, too late,  
What honours due become thy high estate.   

36  
Sir knight (quoth she) your praises reach too high  
Above her merit you commenden so,  
A hapless maid I am, both borne to die,  
And dead to joy, that line in care and woe,  
A virgin helpless, fugitive perdie,  
My native soil and kingdom thus forego  
To seek Duke Godfrey's aid, such store men tell  
Of virtuous ruth doth in his bosom dwell.   

37  
Conduct me than that mighty Duke before,  
If you be courteous, sir, as well you seem.  
Content (quoth he) since of one womb ibore,  
We brothers are, your fortune good esteem  
T'encounter me, whose word prevaileth more  
In Godfrey's hearing, than you haply deem,  
Mine aid I grant, and his I promise too,  
All that his sceptre, or my sword, can do.   

38  
He led her easily forth when this was said,  
Where Godfrey sat among his Lords and pears,  
She reverence did, then blushed, as one dismayed  
To speak, for secret wants and inward fears,  
It seemed a bashful shame her speeches stayed,  
At last the courteous Duke her gently cheers;  
Silence was made, and she began her tale,  
They fit to hear, thus sung this nightingale.   

39  
Victorious Prince, whose honourable name  
Is held so great among our Pagan kings,  
That to those lands thou dost by conquest tame,  
That thou hast won them, some content it brings;  
Well known to all is thy immortal fame,  
The earth, thy worth; thy foe, thy praises sings,  
And paynim wronged come to seek thine aid,  
So doth thy virtue, so thy power perswaide.   

40  
And I though bred in Macous, heathenish lore,  
Which thou oppressest with thy puissant might,  
Yet trust thou wilt an helpless maid restore,  
And repossess her in her father's right:  
Others in their distress do aid implore  
Of kin and friends; but I in this sad plight  
Invoke thy help, my kingdom to invade,  
So doth thy virtue, so my need persuade.   

41  
In thee I hope, thy succours I invoke,  
To win the crown whence I am dispossessed;  
For like renown awaiteth on the stroke  
To cast the haughty down, or raise th'oppressed;  
Nor greater glory brings a sceptre broke,  
Than doth deliu'rance of a maid distressed:  
And since thou canst at will perform the thing,  
More is thy praise to make, than kill a king.   

42  
But if thou wouldst thy succours due excuse,  
Because in Christ I have no hope nor trust,  
Ah yet for virtues sake, thy virtue use!  
Who scorneth gold because it lies in dust?  
Be witness heaven, if thou to grant refuse,  
Thou dost forsake a maid in cause most just,  
And for thou shalt at large my fortunes know,  
I will my wrongs, and their great treasons show.   

43  
Prince Arbilan that reigned in his life  
On fair Damascus, was my noble sire,  
Borne of mean race he was, yet got to wife  
The Queen Charicha, such was the fire  
Of her hot love, but soon the fatal knife  
Had cut the thread that kept their joys entire,  
For so mishap her cruel lot had cast,  
My birth, her death; my first day, was her last.   

44  
And ere five years were fully come and gone,  
Since his dear spouse to hasty death did yield,  
My father also died, consumed with moan,  
And sought his love amid th'Elysian field,  
His crown and me (poor orphan) left alone,  
Mine uncle governed in my tender eild;  
For well he thought, if mortal men have faith,  
In brother's breast true love his mansion haith.   

45  
He took the charge of me, and of the crown,  
And with kind shows of love so brought to pass,  
That through Damascus' great report was blown  
How good, how just, how kind mine uncle was;  
Whether he kept his wicked hate unknown,  
And hide the serpent in the flowering grass,  
Or that true faith did in his bosom won,  
Because he meant to match me with his son.   

46  
Which son, within short while, did undertake  
Degree of knighthood, as beseemed him well,  
Yet never durst he for his Lady's sake  
Break sword or lance, advanced in lofty cell:  
As fair he was, as Citherea's make,  
As proud as he, that signoriseth hell,  
In fashions wayward, and in love unkind,  
For Cupid deigns not wound, a currish mind.   

47  
This Paragon should Queen Armida wed,  
A goodly swain to be a Princess fere,  
A lovely partner of a Lady's bed,  
A noble head, a golden crown to wear:  
His glozing sire his errand daily said,  
And sugared speeches whispered in mine ear,  
To make me take this darling in mine arms,  
But still the adder stopped her ears from charms.   

48  
At last he left me with a troubled grace,  
Through which transparent was his inward spite,  
Me thought I red the story in his face  
Of these mishaps, that on me since have light,  
Since that foul spirits haunt my resting place,  
And ghastly visions break my sleep by night,  
Grief, horror, fear my fainting soul did kill,  
For so my mind foreshowed my coming ill.   

49  
Three times the shape of my dear mother came,  
Pale, sad, dismayed, to warn me in my dream,  
Alas, how far transformed from the same,  
Whose eyes shone erst, like Titan's glorious beam:  
Daughter, she says, fly, fly, behold thy dame  
Foreshows the treasons of thy wretched eme,  
Who poison 'gainst thy harmless life provides,  
This said, to shapeless air unseen, she glides.   

50  
But what avails high walls or bulwarks strong,  
Where fainting cowards have the piece to guard?  
My sex too weak, mine age was all too young,  
To undertake alone, a work so hard,  
To wander wild, the desert woods among,  
A banished maid, of wont ease debarred,  
So grievous seemed, that leifer were my death,  
And there t'expire where first I drew my breath.   

51  
I feared deadly evil, if long I stayed,  
And yet to fly had neither will nor power,  
Nor durst my heart declare it waxed afraid,  
Lest so I hasten might my dying hour:  
Thus restless waited I (unhappy maid)  
What hand should first pluck up my springing flower,  
Even as the wretch condemned to lose his life,  
Awaits the falling of the murdering knife.   

52  
In these extremes (for so my fortune would,  
Perchance preserve me to my further ill)  
One of my noble father's servants old,  
That for his goodness bore his child good will,  
With store of tears this treason 'gan unfold,  
And said; my guardian would his pupil kill,  
And that himself, if promise made he kept,  
Should give me poison dire ere next I slept.   

53  
And further told me, if I wished to live,  
I must convey myself by secret flight,  
And offered than all succours he could give  
To aid his mistress, banished from her right,  
His words of comfort fear to exile drive,  
The dread of death made lesser dangers light:  
So we concluded when the shadows dim,  
Obscured the earth, I should departed with him.   

54  
Of close escapes the aged patroness,  
Blacker than erst, her sable mantle spread,  
When with two trusty maids in great distress,  
Both from mine uncle and my realm I fled;  
Oft looked I back, but hardly could suppress  
Those streams of tears, mine eyes uncessant shed,  
For when I looked on my kingdom lost,  
It was a grief, a death, an hell almost.   

55  
My steeds drew on the burden of my limbs,  
But still my looks, my thoughts, drew back as fast;  
So far the men, that from the havens brims,  
Far out to sea, by sudden storm are cast,  
Swift o'er the grass the rolling chariot swims,  
Through ways unknown, all night, all day we hast,  
At last (nigh tired) a castle strong we found,  
The utmost border of my native land.   

56  
The fort Arontes was, for so the knight  
Was called, that my deliu'rance thus had wrought.  
But when the tyrant saw, by mature flight  
I had escaped the treasons of his thought,  
The rage increased in the cursed wight  
'Gainst me, and him, that me to safety brought,  
And us accused, we would have poisoned  
Him, but descried to save our lives we fled.   

57  
And that in lieu of his approved truth,  
To poison him I hired had my guide,  
That he dispatched, mine unbridled yuth  
Might range at will, in no subjection tide,  
And that each night I slept (O foul untruth!)  
(Mine honour lost) by this Arontes side:  
But heaven I pray send down revenging fire,  
When so base love shall change my chaste desire.   

58  
Not that he sitteth on my regal throne,  
Nor that he thirst to drink my lukewarm blood,  
So grieveth me, as this despite alone,  
That my renown, which ever blameless stood,  
Hath lost the light wherewith it always shone:  
With forged lies he makes his tale so good,  
And holds my subjects hearts in such suspense,  
That none takes armour for their Queen's defence.   

59  
And though he do my regal throne possess,  
Clothed in purple, crowned with burnished gold;  
Yet is his hate, his rancour, near the less,  
Since nought assuageth malice when 'tis old:  
He threats to burn Arontes fortress,  
And murder him unless he yield the hold,  
And me and mine threats (not with war, but death)  
Thus causeless hatred, endless is uneath.   

60  
And so he trusts to wash away the stain,  
And hide his shameful fact with mine offence,  
And saith he will restore the throne again  
To his late honour, and due excellence,  
And therefore would I should be algates slain,  
For while I live, his right is in suspense.  
This is the cause my guiltless life is sought,  
For on my ruin is his safety wrought.   

61  
And let the tyrant have his heart's desire,  
Let him perform the cruelty he meant,  
My guiltless blood must quench the ceaseless fire,  
On which my endless tears were bootless spent,  
Unless thou help; to thee renowned fire,  
I fly, a virgin, orphan, innocent,  
And let these tears that on thy feet distill,  
Redeem the drops of blood, he thirsts to spill.   

62  
By these thy glorious feet, that tread secure  
On necks of tyrants, by thy conquests brave,  
By that right hand, and by those temples pure,  
Thou seeks to free from Macons' lore, I crave  
Help for this sickness, none but thou canst cure,  
My life and kingdom let thy mercy save  
From death and ruin: but in vain I prove thee,  
If right, if truth, if justice cannot move thee.   

63  
Thou, who dost all thou wishest, at thy will,  
And never willest aught, but what is right,  
Preserve this guiltless blood they seek to spill,  
Thine be my kingdom, save it with thy might:  
Among these captains, Lords, and knights of skill,  
Appoint me ten, approved most in fight,  
Who with assistance of my friends and kin  
May serve, my kingdom lost, again to win.   

64  
For lo a knight, that hath a gate to ward,  
(A man of chiefest trust about his king)  
Hath promised so to beguile the guard,  
That me and mine he undertakes to bring  
Safe, where the tyrant haply sleepeth hard:  
He counselled me to undertake this thing,  
Of thee some little succour to entreat,  
Whose name alone accomplish can the feat.   

65  
This said, his answer did the Nymph attend,  
Her looks, her sighs, her gestures all did pray him:  
But Godfrey wisely did his grant suspend,  
He doubts the worst, and that awhile did stay him,  
He knows, who fears no God, he loves no friend,  
He fears the heathen false would thus betray him:  
But yet such ruth dwelled in his princely mind,  
That 'gainst his wisdom, pity made him kind.   

66  
Besides the kindness of his gentle thought,  
Ready to comfort each distressed wight,  
The maidens offer profit with it brought;  
For if the Syrian kingdom were her right,  
That won, the way were easy, which he sought  
To bring all Asia subject to his might,  
There might he raise munition, arms and treasure,  
To work th'Egyptian king and his displeasure.   

67  
Thus was his noble heart long time betwixt  
Fear and remorse, not granting nor denaying,  
Upon his eyes the dame her lookings fixed,  
As if her life and death lay on his saying,  
Some tears she shed, with sighs and sobbings mixed,  
As if her hope were dead through his delaying;  
At last her earnest suit the Duke denayed,  
But with sweet words thus would content the maid.   

68  
If not in service of our God we fought,  
In meaner quarrel if this sword were shaken,  
Well might thou gather in thy gentle thought,  
So fair a Princess should not be forsaken;  
But since these armies, from the world's end brought,  
To free this sacred town have undertaken,  
It were unfit we turned our strength away,  
And victory, even in her coming, stay.   

69  
I promise thee, and on my princely word  
The burden of thy wish and hope repose,  
That when this chosen temple of the Lord,  
Her holy doors shall to his saints unclose  
In rest and peace; then this victorious sword  
Shall execute due vengeance on thy foes:  
But if for pity of a worldly dame  
I left this work, such pity, were my shame.   

70  
At this the Princess bent her eyes to ground,  
And stood unmoved, though not unmarkt, a space,  
The secret bleeding of her inward wound  
Shed heavenly dew, upon her angel's face.  
Poor wretch (quoth she) in tears and sorrows drowned,  
Death be thy peace, the grave thy resting place,  
Since such thy hap, that lest thou mercy find,  
The gentlest heart on earth is proved unkind.   

71  
Where none attends, what boots it to complain?  
men's froward hearts are moved with women's tears,  
As marble stones are pierced with drops of rain,  
No plaints find passage through unwilling ears:  
The tyrant (haply) would his wrath restrain  
Herd he these prayers, ruthless Godfrey hears,  
Yet not thy fault is this, my chance (I see)  
Hath made even pity, pitiless in thee.   

72  
So both thy goodness, and good hap, denayed me,  
Grief, sorrow, mischief, care, hath overthrown me,  
The star that ruled my birthday hath betrayed me,  
My Genius sees his charge, but dares not own me,  
Of queenlike state, my flight hath disarraid me,  
My father died, ere he five years had known me,  
My kingdom lost, and lastly resteth now,  
Down with the tree, sith broke is every bow.   

73  
And for the modest lore of maidenhood,  
Bids me not sojourn with these armed men,  
Oh whither shall I fly? what secret wood  
Shall hide me from the tyrant? or what den,  
What rock, what vault, what cave can do me good?  
No, no, where death is sure, it resteth then  
To scorn his power, and be it therefore seen,  
Armida lived, and died, both like a Queen.   

74  
With that she looked, as if a proud disdain  
Kindled displeasure in her noble mind,  
The way she came she turned her steps again,  
With gestures sad, but in disdainful kind,  
A tempest railed down her cheeks amain,  
With tears of woe, and sighs of anger's wind;  
The drops her footsteps wash, whereon she treads,  
And seems to step on pearls, or crystal beads.   

75  
Her cheeks on which this streaming Nectar fell,  
Stilled through the limbeck of her diamondeys,  
The roses white and red resembled well,  
Whereon the roarie may-dew sprinkled lies,  
When the fair morn first blusheth from her cell,  
And breatheth balm from opened paradies;  
Thus sighed, thus mourned, thus wept, this lovely Queen,  
And in each drop, bathed a grace unseen.   

76  
Thrice twenty Cupids unperceived flew  
To gather up this liquor, ere it fall,  
And of each drop an arrow forged new,  
Else, as it came, snatched up the crystal ball,  
And at rebellious hearts for wild fire threw,  
O wondrous love! thou makest gain of all;  
For if she weeping sit, or smiling stand,  
She bends thy bow, or kindleth else thy brand.   

77  
This forged plaint drew forth unfeigned tears,  
From many eyes, and pierced each worthies heart,  
Each one condoleth with her that her hears,  
And of her grief would help her bear the smart:  
If Godfrey aid her not, not one but swears  
Some tigress gave him suck, on roughest part  
Midst the rude crags, on Alpine cliffs aloft:  
Hard is that heart which beauty makes not soft.   

78  
But jolly Eustace, in whose breast the brand  
Of love and pity, kindled had the flame,  
While other softly whispered under hand  
Before the Duke, with comely boldness, came:  
Brother and Lord (quoth he) too long you stand  
In your first purpose, yet vouchsafe to frame  
Your thoughts to ours, and lend this virgin aid:  
Thanks are half lost, when good turns are delayed.   

79  
And think not that Eustaces talk assays  
To turn these forces from this present war,  
Or that I wish you should your armies raise  
From zions walls, my speech tends not so far:  
But we that venture all, for fame and praise,  
That to no charge nor service bounden are,  
Forth of our troup may ten well spared be  
To secure her, which nought can weaken thee.   

80  
And know, they shall in God's high service fight,  
That virgins innocent, save and defend:  
Deer will the spoils be in the heavens sight,  
That from a tyrant's hateful head we rend:  
Nor seemed I forward in this Ladies right,  
With hope of gain or profit in the end;  
But for I know he arms unworthy bears,  
To help a maiden's cause, that shuns or fears.   

81  
Ah! be it not perdie declared in France,  
Or elsewhere told where curtsy is in prize,  
That we forsook so fair a chevisance,  
For doubt or fear that might from fight arise;  
Else, here surrender I both sword and lance,  
And swear no more to use this martial guise;  
For ill deserves he to be termed a knight,  
That bears a blunt sword, in a Ladies right.   

82  
Thus parled he: and with confused sound,  
The rest approved what the gallant said.  
Their general the knights encompassed round,  
With humble grace, and earnest suit they prayed:  
I yield (quoth he) and be it happy found,  
What I have granted, let her have your aid:  
Yours be the thanks, for yours the danger is,  
If ought succeed (as much I fear) amiss.   

83  
But if with you my words may credit find,  
O temper then this heat misguides you so!  
Thus much he said: but they, with fancy blind,  
Accept his grant, and let his counsel go.  
What works not beauty, maris relenting mind,  
Is each to move with plaints and shows of woe:  
Her lips cast forth a chain of sugared words,  
That captive led most of the Christian Lords.   

84  
Eustace recalled her, and bespoke her thus:  
Beauties chief darling, let these sorrows be,  
For such assistance shall you find in us,  
As with your need, or will, may best agree;  
With that she cheered her forehead dolorous,  
And smiled for joy, that Phoebus blushed to see,  
And had she deigned her vail for to remove,  
The god himself, once more, had fallen in love.   

85  
With that she broke the silence once again,  
And gave the knight great thanks in little speech,  
She said she would his handmaid poor remain,  
So far as honour's laws received no breach.  
Her humble gestures made the res'due plain,  
Dumb eloquence, persuading more, than speech:  
Thus women know, and thus they use the guise,  
T'enchant the valiant, and beguile the wise.   

86  
And when she saw her enterprise had got  
Some wished mean, of quick and good proceeding,  
She thought to strike the iron that was hot;  
For every action hath his hour of speeding:  
Medea or false Circe changed not,  
So far the shapes of men, as her eyes spreeding  
Altered their hearts, and with her Sirens sound  
In lust, their minds; their hearts, in love she drowned.   

87  
All wily sleights, that subtle women know,  
Hourly she used, to catch some lover new.  
None kend the bent of her unsteadfast bow,  
For with the time her thoughts her looks renew,  
From some she cast her modest eyes below,  
At some her gazing glances roving flew,  
And while she thus pursewd her wanton sport,  
She spurred the slow, and reigned the forward short.   

88  
If some, as hopeless that she would be won,  
Forbore to love, because they durst not move her,  
On them her gentle looks to smile begun,  
As who say, she is kind, if you dare prove her:  
On every heart thus shone this lustful son,  
All strove to serve, to please, to woo, to love her,  
And in their hearts that chaste and bashful wear,  
Her eyes hot glance dissolved the frost of fear.   

89  
On them, who durst with fingering bold assay  
To touch the softness of her tender skin,  
She looked as coy, as if she list not play,  
And made as things of worth were hard to win;  
Yet tempered so her deignfull looks alway,  
That outward scorn show'd store of grace within:  
Thus with false hope their longing hearts she fired,  
For hardest gotten things, are most desired.   

90  
Alone sometimes she walked in secret where,  
To ruminate upon her discontent,  
Within her eyelids sat the swelling tear,  
Not powered forth, though sprung from sad lament;  
And with this craft a thousand souls well-near,  
In snares of foolish ruth and love she hent,  
And kept as slaves, by which we fitly prove,  
That witless pity, breedeth fruitless love.   

91  
Sometimes, as if her hope unloosed had  
The chains of grief, wherein her thoughts lay fettered,  
Upon her minions looked she blithe and glad,  
In that deceitful lore so was she lettered;  
Not glorious Titan, in his brightness clad,  
The sunshine of her face in lustre bettered:  
For when she list to cheer her beauties so,  
She smiled away the clouds of grief and wo.   

92  
Her double charm of smiles and sugared words,  
Lulled on sleep the virtue of their senses,  
Reason small aid 'gainst those assaults affords,  
Wisdom no warrant from those sweet offences,  
Cupid's deep rivers, have their shallow fords,  
His griefs, bring joys; his losses recompenses;  
He breeds the sore, and cures us of the pain:  
Achilles lance that wounds and heals again.   

93  
While thus she them torments twixt frost and fire,  
Twixt joy and grief, twixt hope and restless fear,  
The sly enchantress, felt her gain the nigher,  
These were her flocks that golden fleeces bear:  
But if some one durst utter his desire,  
And by complaining make his grieves appear,  
He laboured hard rocks with plaints to move,  
She had not learned the Gamut then of love.   

94  
For down she bent her bashful eyes to ground,  
And donned the weed of women's modest grace,  
Down from her eyes welled the pearls round,  
Upon the bright enamel of her face;  
Such honey drops on springing flowers are found,  
When Phoebus holds the crimson morn in chase;  
Full seemed her looks of anger, and of shame;  
Yet pity shone transparent through the same.   

95  
If she perceived by his outward cheer,  
That any would his love by talk bewray,  
Sometimes she heard him, sometimes stopped her ear,  
And played fast and lose the livelong day:  
Thus all her lovers kind deluded wear,  
Their earnest suit got neither yea nor nay;  
But like the sort of weary huntsmen far,  
That hunt all day, and lose at night the hare.   

96  
These were the arts by which she captived  
A thousand souls, of young and lusty knights;  
These were the arms where with love conquered  
Their feeble hearts, subdued in wanton fights:  
What wonder if Achilles were misled,  
Or great Alcides at their Lady's sights,  
Since these true champions of the Lord above  
Were thralls to beauty, yeelden slaves to love.    

The fifth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Gernando scorns Rinaldo should aspire  
To rule that charge, for which he seeks and strives,  
And slanders him so far, that in his ire  
The wronged knight his foe of life deprives:  
Far from the camp the slayer doth retire,  
Nor lets himself he bound in chains or gives:  
Armide departs content, and from the seas  
Godfrey hears news, which him and his displeas.   

1  
WHile thus Armida false the knights misled  
In wandering errors of deceitful love,  
And thought, besides the champions promised,  
The other Lordings in her aid to move,  
In Godfrey's thought a strong contention bred  
Who fittest were this hazard great to prove;  
For all the worthies of th'adventurers band  
Were like in birth, in power, in strength of hand.   

2  
But first the Prince (by grave advise) decreed  
They should some knight choose (at their own election)  
That in his charge Lord Dudon might succeed,  
And of that glorious troup should take protection;  
So none should grieve, displeased with the deed,  
Nor blame the causer of their new subjection:  
Besides Godfredo show'd by this device,  
How much he held that regiment in price.   

3  
He called the worthies than, and spoke them so,  
Lordings, you know I yielded to your will,  
And gave you licence with this Dame to go,  
To win her kingdom, and that tyrant kill:  
But now again I let you further know,  
In following her it may betide you ill;  
Refrain therefore, and change this forward thought,  
For death unsent for, danger comes unsought.   

4  
But if to shun these perils, sought so far,  
May seem disgraceful to the place you hold;  
If grave advise and prudent counsel, are  
Esteemed detractors from your courage bold;  
Then know, I none against his will debar,  
Nor what I granted erst I now withhold;  
But be mine empire (as it ought of right)  
Sweet, easy, pleasant, gentle, meek and light.   

5  
Go than or tarry, each as likes him best,  
Free power I grant you on this enterprise;  
But first in Dudons' place (now laid in chest)  
Choose you some other captain, stout and wise:  
Then ten appoint among the worthiest,  
But let no more attempt this hard emprise,  
In this my will content you that I have,  
For power constrained is but a glorious slave.   

6  
Thus Godfrey said, and thus his brother spoke,  
And answered for himself and all his pears;  
My Lord, as well it fitteth thee to make  
These wise delays, and cast these doubts and fears:  
So 'tis our part at first to undertake,  
Courage and haste beseems our might and years;  
And this proceeding with so grave advise,  
Wisdom, in you; in us, were cowardice.   

7  
Since than the feat is easy, danger none,  
All set in battle and in hardy fight,  
Do thou permit the chosen ten to gone  
And aid the damsel: thus devised the knight,  
To make men think the sun of honour shone,  
There where the lamp of Cupid gave the light:  
The rest perceive his guile, and it approve,  
And call that knighthood, which was childish love.   

8  
But loving Eustace, that with jealous eye  
Beheld the worth of Sophia's noble child,  
And his fair shape did secretly envy,  
Beside the virtues in his breast compiled,  
(And for in love he would no company)  
He stored his mouth with speeches smoothly filled,  
Drawing his rival to attend his word,  
Thus with fair sleight he laid the knight aboard.   

9  
Of great Bertoldo thou far greater hair,  
Thou star of knighthood, flower of chivalry,  
Tell me, who now shall lead this squadron fair,  
Since our late guide in marble cold doth lie?  
I, that with famous Dudon might compare  
In all, but years, hoar locks, and gravity,  
To whom should I, Duke Godfrey's brother, yield,  
Unless to thee, the Christian armies shield?   

10  
thou (whom high birth makes equal with the best)  
Thine acts prefer both me and all before,  
Nor that in fight thou both surpass the rest  
And Godfrey's worthy self, I hold in scorn,  
Thee to obey than am I only priest,  
Before these worthies be thine eagle borne,  
This honour haply thou esteemest light,  
Whose day of glory never yet found night.   

11  
Yet Mayst thou further (by this means) display  
The spreading wings of thy immortal fame,  
I will procure it, if thou sayst not nay,  
And all their wills to thine election frame:  
But for I scantly am resolved which way  
To bend my force, or where employ the same,  
Leave me (I pray) at my discretion, free  
To help Armida, or serve here with thee.   

12  
This last request (for love is evil to hide)  
Empurpled both his cheeks with scarlet read,  
Rinaldo soon his passions had descried,  
And gently smiling turned aside his head,  
And, for weak Cupid was too feeble eide  
To strike him sure, the fire in him was dead;  
So that of rivals was he nought afraid,  
Nor cared he for the journey or the maid:   

13  
But in his noble thought revolved he oft  
Dudons high prowess, death and burial,  
And how Argantes bore his plumes aloft,  
Praising his fortune for that worthies fall;  
Besides, the knights sweet words and praises soft  
To his due honour did him fitly call,  
And made his heart rejoice, for well he knew  
(Though much he praised him) all his words were true.   

14  
Degrees (quoth he) of honours hie to hold,  
I would them first deserve, and then desire;  
And were my valour such as you have told,  
Would I for that to higher place aspire:  
But if to honours due raise me you would,  
I will not of my works refuse the hire;  
And much it glads me, that my power and might  
I praised is by such a valiant knight.   

15  
I neither seek it, nor refuse the place,  
Which if I get, the praise and thanks be thine.  
Eustace (this spoken) hied thence apace  
To know which way his fellows hearts incline:  
But Prince Gernando coveted the place,  
Whom though Armida sought to undermine,  
'Gainst him yet vain did all her engines prove,  
His pride was such, there was no place for love.   

16  
Gernando was the king of Norway's son,  
That many a realm and region had to guide,  
And for his elders lands and crowns had won,  
His heart was puffed up with endless pride:  
The other boasts more what himself had done  
Than all his ancestors great acts beside;  
Yet his forefathers old before him wear  
Famous in war and peace, five hundredth year.   

17  
This barbarous Prince, who only vainly thought  
That bliss in wealth and kingly power doth lie,  
And in respect esteemed all virtue nought,  
Unless it were adorned with titles hie,  
Can not endure, that to the place he sought  
A simple knight should dare to press so nigh;  
And in his breast so boiled fell despite,  
That ire and wrath exiled reason quite.   

18  
The hidden devil, that lies in close awate  
To win the fort of unbelieving man,  
Found entry there, where ire undid the gate,  
And in his bosom unperceived ran,  
It filled his heart with malice, strife and hate,  
It made him rage, blaspheme, swear, curse and ban,  
Invisible it still attends him near,  
And thus each minute whisp'reth in his ear.   

19  
What, shall Rinaldo match thee? dares he tell  
Those idle names of his vain pedigree?  
Then let him say (if thee he would excel)  
What lands, what realms his tributaries be:  
If his forefathers in the graves that dwell,  
Were honoured like thine that live, let see,  
Oh how dares one so mean aspire so high,  
Borne in that servile country Italy?   

20  
Now, if he win, or if he lose the day,  
Yet is his praise and glory hence derived,  
For that the world will (to his credit) say,  
Lo, this is he that with Gernando strived.  
The charge somedeal thee haply honour may,  
That noble Dudon had while here he lived;  
But laid on him, he would the office shame,  
Let it suffice, he durst desire the same.   

21  
If when this breath from man's frail body flies,  
The soul take keep, or know the things done hear,  
Oh! how looks Dudon from the glorious skies?  
What wrath: what anger in his face appear?  
On this proud youngling while he bends his eyes,  
Marking how high he doth his feathers rear?  
Seeing his rash attempt, how soon he dare  
(Though but a boy) with his great worth compare.   

22  
He dares not only, but he strives and proves,  
Where chastisement were fit, there wins he praise:  
One counsels him, his speech, him forward moves;  
Another fool approveth all he says:  
If Godfrey favour him more than behoves,  
Why then he wrongeth thee an hundredth ways;  
Nor let thy state so far disgraced be,  
But what thou art and canst, let Godfrey see.   

23  
With such false words the kindled fire began  
To every vain his poisoned heat to reach,  
It swelled his scornful heart, and forth it ran  
At this proud looks, and to audacious speech;  
All that he thought blameworthy in the man,  
To his disgrace, that would he each-where preach;  
He termed him proud and vain, his worth in fight  
He called foole-hardice, rashness, madness, right.   

24  
All that in him was rare or excellent,  
All that was good, all that was princely found,  
With such sharp words as malice could invent,  
He blamed (such power hath wicked tongue to wound)  
The youth (for every where those rumours went)  
Of these reproaches heard sometimes the sound;  
Nor did for that his tongue the fault amend,  
Until it brought him to his woeful end.   

25  
The cursed fiend that set his tongue at large,  
Still bred more fancies in his idle brain,  
His heart with slanders new did overcharge,  
And soothed him still in his angry vain:  
Amid the camp a place was broad and large,  
Where one fair regiment might easily train;  
And there, in Tilt and harmless tournament  
Their days of rest, the youths and gallants spent.   

26  
There (as his fortune would it should betide)  
Amid the press Gernando 'gan retire,  
To vomit out his venom unespide,  
Wherewith foul envy did his heart inspire.  
Rinaldo heard him as he stood beside,  
And (as he could not bridle wrath and ire)  
Thou liest, cried he loud, and with that word  
About his head he tossed his flaming sword.   

27  
Thunder his voice, and lightning seemed his brand,  
So fell his look and furious was his cheer,  
Gernando trembled, for he saw at hand  
Pale death, and neither help nor comfort near;  
Yet for the soldiers all to witness stand,  
He made proud sign as though he nought did fear,  
But bravely drew his little helping blade,  
And valiant show of strong resistance made.   

28  
With that a thousand blades of burnished steel  
glistered on heaps, like flames of fire in sight,  
Hundreds, that knew not yet the quarrel we'll,  
Ran thither, some to gaze and some to fight:  
The empty air a sound confused did feel  
Of murmurs low and outcries loud on height,  
Like rolling waves, and Boreas angry blasts,  
When roaring seas against the rocks he casts.   

29  
But not for this the wronged warrior stayed  
His just displeasure, and incensed ire,  
He cared not what the vulgar did or said,  
To vengeance did his courage fierce aspire:  
Among the thickest weapons way he maid,  
His thundering sword made all on heaps retire,  
So that of near a thousand stayed not one,  
But prince Gernando bore the brunt alone.   

30  
His hand (too quick to execute his wrath)  
Performed all, as pleased his eye and heart,  
At head and breast oft times he strooken hath,  
Now at the right, now at the other part:  
On every side thus did he harm and scathe,  
And oft beguiled his sight with nimble art,  
That no defence the Prince of wounds acquits,  
Where least he thinks, or fears, there most he hits.   

31  
Nor ceased he, till in Gernandos' breast  
He sheathed once or twice his furious blade;  
Down fell the hapless Prince with death oppressed,  
A double way to his weak soul was made,  
His bloody sword the victor wiped and dressed:  
Nor longer by the slaughtered body staid,  
But sped him thence, and soon appeased hath  
His hate, his ire, his rancour and his wrath.   

32  
Called by the tumult, Godfrey drew him near,  
And there beheld a sad and rueful sight,  
The signs of death upon his face appear,  
With dust and blood his locks were loathly dight,  
Sighs and complaints on each side might he hear,  
Made for the sudden death of that great knight:  
Amazed, he asked who durst and did so much;  
For yet he knew not whom the fault would touch.   

33  
Arnoldo, minion of the Prince thus slain,  
Augments the fault in telling it, and saith,  
This Prince is murdered, for a quarrel vain,  
By young Rinaldo, in his desperate wraith,  
And with that sword, that should Christ's law maintain,  
One of Christ's champions bold he killed haith,  
And this he did, in such a place and hour,  
As if he scorned your rule, despised your power.   

34  
And further adds, that he deserved death  
By law, and law should be inviolate,  
That none offence could greater be uneath,  
And yet the place the fault did aggravate:  
If he escaped, that mischief would take breath,  
And flourish bold, in spite of rule and state;  
And that Gernandos' friends would venge the wrong,  
Although to justice that should first belong.   

35  
And by that means, should discord, hate and strife  
Raise mutinies, and what thereof ensu'th:  
Lastly he praised the dead, and still had rife  
All words he thought could vengeance move or ruth.  
Against him Taucred argued for life,  
With honest reasons to excuse the yuth:  
The Duke heard all, but with such sober cheer,  
As banished hope, and still increased fear.   

36  
Grave Prince (quoth Tancred) set before thine eyes  
Rinaldoes worth and courage, what it is,  
How much our hope of conquest in him lies;  
Regard that princely house and race of his;  
He that correcteth every fault he spies,  
And judgeth all alike, doth all amis;  
For faults (you know) are greater thought or less,  
As is the persons self, that doth transgress.   

37  
Godfredo answered him, if high and low  
Of sovereign power alike should feel the stroke,  
Than Tancred ill you counsel us (I trow)  
If Lords should know no law as erst you spoke,  
How vile and base our empire were you know,  
If none but slaves and peasants bear the yoke;  
Weak is the sceptre and the power is small,  
That such provisoes brings annexed withal.   

38  
But mine was freely given ere it was sought,  
Nor that it lessened be, I now consent;  
Right well know I both when and where I ought  
To give condign reward, and punishment,  
Since you are all in like subjection brought,  
Both high and low obey, and be content.  
This heard, Tancredie wisely stayed his words,  
Such weight the sayings have of kings and Lords.   

39  
Old Raymond praised his speech (for old men think  
They ever wisest seem when most severe)  
'tis best (quoth he) to make these great ones shrink,  
The people love him whom the nobles fear:  
There must the rule to all disorders sink,  
Where pardons, more than punishment, appear;  
For feeble is each kingdom, frail and weak,  
Unless his basis be this fear I speak.   

40  
These words Tancredie heard and pondered well,  
And by them witted how Godfrey's thoughts were bend,  
Nor list he longer with these old men dwell,  
But turned his horse and to Rinaldo went,  
Who when his noble foe death wounded fell,  
Withdrew him softly to his gorgeous tent;  
There Tancred found him, and at large declared  
The words and speeches sharp, which late you hard.   

41  
And said, although I wots the outward show  
Is not true witness of the secret thought,  
For that some men so subtle are I trow,  
That what they purpose most, appeareth nought;  
Yet dare I say Godfredo means I know,  
(Such knowledge hath his looks and speeches wrought)  
You shall first prisoner be, and then be tried,  
As he shall deem it good, and law provide.   

42  
With that a bitter smile well might you see  
Ridaldo cast, with scorn and high disdain,  
Let them in fetters plead their cause (quoth he)  
That are base peasants, borne of servile strain,  
I was free borne, I live, and will die free,  
Before these feet be fettered in a chain:  
These hands were made to shake sharp spears & swords,  
Not to be tied in gives and twisted cords.   

43  
If my good service reap this recompense,  
To be clapped up in close and secret mew,  
And as a thief be after dragged from thence,  
To suffer punishment, as law finds dew;  
Let Godfrey come or send, I will not hence,  
Until we know who shall this bargain rue,  
That of our tragedy the late done fact,  
May be the first, and this the second, act.   

44  
Give me mine arms he cried; his squire them brings,  
And clad his head and breast in iron strong,  
About his neck his silver shield he flings,  
Down by his side a cutting sword there hung;  
Among this earths brave Lords, and mighty kings,  
Was none so stout, so fierce, so fair, so young,  
God Mars he seemed descending from his sphere,  
Or one whose looks could make great Mars to fear.   

45  
Tancredie laboured with some pleasing speech  
His spirits fierce and courage to appease:  
Young Prince, thy valour (thus he 'gan to preach)  
Can chastise all that do thee wrong, at ease,  
I know your virtue can your enemies teach,  
That you can venge you when and where you please:  
But God forbidden this day you lift your arm,  
To do this camp, and us your friends, such harm.   

46  
Tell me what will you do? why would you stain  
Your noble hands in our unguilty blood?  
By wounding Christians will you again  
Pearse Christ, whose parts they are and members good?  
Will you destroy us for your glory vain,  
Unstaid as rolling waves in Ocean flood?  
Far be it from you so to prove your strength,  
And let your zeal appease your rage at length.   

47  
For Gods love stay your heat, and just displeasure,  
Appease your wrath, your courage fierce assuage,  
Patience, a praise; forbearance, is a treasure;  
Sufferance, an angels; a monster, rage:  
At least your actions by ensample measure,  
And think how I in mine unbridled age  
Was wronged, yet I nould revengement take  
On all this camp, for one offenders sake.   

48  
Cilicia conquered I, as all men wots,  
And there the glorious cross on high I reared,  
But Baldwine came, and what I nobly got  
Bereft me falsely, when I least him feared;  
He seemed my friend, and I discovered not  
His secret covetise which since appeared;  
Yet strive I not to get mine own by fight,  
Or civil war, although perchance I might.   

49  
If then you scorn to be in prison penned,  
If bonds, as high disgrace, your hands refuse;  
Or if your thoughts still to maintain are bend  
Your liberty, as men of honour use:  
To Antioch what if forthwith you went?  
And leave me here your absence to excuse,  
There with Prince Boemond live in ease and peace,  
Until this storm of Godfrey's anger cease.   

50  
For soon, if forces come from Egypt land,  
Or other nations that us here confine,  
Godfrey will beaten be with his own wand,  
And feel he wants that valour great of thine,  
Our camp may seem an arm without a hand,  
Amid our troops unless thy eagle shine:  
With that came Guelpho and those words approved,  
And prayed him go, if him he feared or loved.   

51  
Their speeches soften much the warriors heart,  
And make his wilful thoughts at last relent,  
So that he yields, and saith he will departed,  
And leave the Christian camp incontinent.  
His friends, whose love did never shrink or start,  
proffered their aid, what way so ere he went:  
He thanked them all, but left them all, besides  
Two bold and trusty squires, and so he rides.   

52  
He rides, revolving in his noble sprite  
Such haughty thoughts, as fill the glorious mind;  
On hard adventures was his whole delight,  
And now to wondrous acts his will inclined;  
Alone against the Pagans would he fight,  
And kill their kings from Egypt unto Ind,  
From Cinthia's hills, and Nilus unknown spring,  
He would fetch praise and glorious conquest bring.   

53  
But Guelpho (when the Prince his leave had take,  
And now had spurred his courser on his way)  
No longer tarriance with the rest would make,  
But hastes to find Godfre do, if he may:  
Who seeing him approaching, forthwith spoke,  
Guelpho (quoth he) for thee I only stay,  
For thee I sent my heralds all about,  
In every tent to seek and find thee out.   

54  
This said, he softly drew the knight aside  
Where none might hear, and then bespoke him thus:  
How chanceth it thy nephews rage and pride,  
Makes him so far forget himself and us?  
Hardly could I believe what is betide,  
A murder done for cause so frivolous,  
How I have loved him, thou and all can tell;  
But Godfrey loved him, but whilst he did well.   

55  
I must provide that every one have right,  
That all be heard, each cause be well discussed,  
As far from partial love, as free from spite,  
I hear complaints, yet nought but proves I trust:  
Now if Rinaldo weigh our rule so light,  
And have the sacred lore of war so burst,  
Take you the charge that he before us come,  
To clear himself and hear our upright doom.   

56  
But let him come withouten bond or chain,  
For still my thoughts to do him grace are framed:  
But if our power he haply shall disdain,  
(As well I know his courage yet untamed)  
To bring him by persuasion take some pain:  
Else, if I prove severe, both you be blamed,  
That force my gentle nature ('gainst my thought)  
To rigour, lest our laws return to nought.   

57  
Lord Guelpho answered thus: what heart can bear  
Such slanders false, devised by hate and spite?  
Or with stayed patience, reproaches hear,  
And not revenge by battle and by fight?  
The Norway Prince hath bought his folly dear,  
But who with words could stay the angry knight?  
A fool is he that comes to preach or prate,  
When men with swords their right and wrong debate.   

58  
And where you wish he should himself submit  
To hear the censure of your upright laws;  
Alas, that cannot be, for he is flit  
Out of this camp, withouten stay or pause.  
There take my gage, behold I offer it  
To him that first accused him in this cause,  
Or any else that dare, and will maintain  
That for his pride the Prince was justly slain.   

59  
I say with reason Lord Gernandos' pride  
He hath abated, if he have offended  
'Gainst your commands, who are his Lord and guide,  
Oh pardon him, that fault shall be amended.  
If he be gone (quoth Godfrey) let him ride  
And brawl elsewhere, here let all strife be ended:  
And you Lord Guelpho, for your nephews sake,  
Breed us no new, nor quarrels old awake.   

60  
This while, the fair and false Armida strived  
To get her promised aid, in sure possession,  
The day to end, with endless plaint, she drived;  
Wit, beauty, craft for her made intercession:  
But when the earth was once of light deprived,  
And Western seas felt Titan's hot impression,  
Twixt two old knights, and matrons twain she went,  
Where pitched was her fair and curious tent.   

61  
But this false Queen of craft and sly invention,  
(Whose looks, loves arrows were; whose eyes, his quivers;  
Whose beauty matchless, free from reprehension,  
(A wonder left by heaven to after livers)  
Among the Christian Lords had bred contention,  
Who first should quench his flames in Cupid's rivers,  
With all her weapons and her darts rehearsed,  
Had not Godfredos constant bosom pierced.   

62  
To change his modest thought the dame procureth,  
And profreth heaps of loves enticing treasure:  
But as the falcon newly gorged endureth  
Her keeper lure her oft, but comes at leisure;  
So he, whom fullness of delight assureth,  
What long repentance comes of loves short pleasure,  
Her crafts, her arts, herself and all despiseth,  
So base affections fall, when virtue riseth.   

63  
And not one foot his steadfast foot was moved  
Out of that heavenly path, wherein he paced,  
Yet thousand wiles, and thousand ways, she proved,  
To have that castle fair of goodness razed:  
She used those looks and smiles, that most behoved  
To melt the frost which his hard heart embraced,  
And 'gainst his breast a thousand shot she ventured,  
Yet was the fort so strong it was not entered.   

64  
The Dame who thought that one blink of her eye,  
Can make the chastest heart feel loves sweet pain,  
Oh, how her pride abated was hereby!  
When all her sleights were void, her crafts were vain,  
Some other where she would her forces try,  
Where at more ease she might more vantage gain,  
As tired soldiers whom some fort keeps out,  
Thence raise their siege, and spoil the towns about.   

65  
But yet always the wily witch could find,  
Can not Tancredres heart to love-ward move,  
His sails were filled with another wind,  
He list no blast of new affection prove;  
For, as one poison doth exclude by kind  
Another's force, so love excludeth love:  
These two alone nor more, nor less the Dame  
Can win, the rest all burnt in her sweet flame.   

66  
The Princess (though her purpose would not frame,  
As late she hoped, and as still she would)  
Yet, for the Lords and knights of greatest name  
Became her pray, as erst you heard it told;  
She thought, ere truth-revealing time, or fame  
Bewrayed her act, to lead them to some hold,  
Where chains & bands she meant to make them prove,  
Composed by Vulcan, not by gentle love.   

67  
The time prefixed at length was come and passed,  
Which Godfrey had set down, to lend her aid,  
When at his feet herself to earth she cast,  
The hour is come (my Lord) she humbly said;  
And if the tyrant haply hear at last,  
His banished niece hath your assistance prayed,  
He will in arms (to save his kingdom) rise,  
So shall we harder make this enterprise.   

68  
Before report can bring the tyrant news,  
Or his espials certify their king,  
O let thy goodness these few champions choose,  
That to her kingdom should thy handmaid bring;  
Who, except heaven to aid the right refuse,  
Recover shall her crown, from whence shall spring  
Thy profit; for betide thee peace or war,  
Thine all her cities, all her subjects ar.   

69  
The captain sage the damsel fair assured,  
His word was past, and should not be recanted,  
And she with sweet and humble grace endured  
To let him point those ten, which late he granted:  
But to be one, each one sought and procured,  
No suit, entreaty, intercession wanted;  
Their envy each at others love exceeded,  
And all importunate made, more than needed.   

70  
She (that well saw the secret of their hearts)  
And knew how best to warm them in their blood,  
Against them threw the cursed poisoned darts  
Of jealousy, and grief at others good,  
For love she witted was weak without those arts,  
And slow; for jealousy, is Cupid's food;  
For the swift steed runs not so fast alone,  
As when some strain, some strive him to outgone.   

71  
Her words in such alluring sort she framed,  
Her looks enticing, and her wowing smiles,  
That every one his fellows favours blamed,  
That of their mistress he received erewhiles:  
This foolish crew of lovers, unashamed,  
Mad with the poison of her secret wiles,  
Ran forward still, in this disordered sort,  
Nor could Godfredoes bridle rain them short.   

72  
He that would satisfy each good desire  
(Withouten partial love) of every knight,  
Although he swelled with shame, with grief and ire,  
To see these follies, and these fashion's light;  
Yet since by no advice they would retire,  
Another way he sought, to set them right:  
Writ all your names (quoth he) and see whom chance  
Of lot, to this exploit will first advance.   

73  
Their names were writ, and in a helmet shaken,  
While each did fortunes grace and aid implore;  
At last they drew them, and the foremost taken  
The Earl of Pembroke was, Artimidore,  
Doubtless the county thought his bread well baken;  
Next Gerrard followed, then with tresses hoar  
Old Wenceslaus, that felt Cupid's rage  
Now in his doting, and his dying age.   

74  
Oh how contentment in their foreheads shined!  
Their looks with joy; thoughts swelled with secret pleasure,  
These three it seemed good success defined  
To make the Lords of love, and beauty's treasure:  
Their doubtful fellows at their hap repined,  
And with small patience wait fortune's leisure,  
Upon his lips that read the scrolls attending,  
As if their lives were on his words depending.   

75  
Guascar the fourth, Ridolpho him succeeds,  
Then Vldericke whom love list so advance,  
Lord William of Ronciglion next he reeds,  
Then Eberard, and Henry borne in France,  
Rambaldo last, whom wicked lust so leedes,  
That he forsook his saviour with mischance;  
This wretch the tenth was, who was thus deluded,  
The rest to their huge grief were all excluded.   

76  
O'ercome with envy, wrath and jealousy,  
The rest blind fortune curse, and all her laws,  
And mad with love, yet out on love they cry,  
That in his kingdom let her judge their cause:  
And for man's mind is such, that oft we try  
Things most forbidden, without stay or pause,  
In spite of fortune, purposed many a knight,  
To follow fair Armida when 'twas night.   

77  
To follow her, by night or else by day,  
And in her quarrel venture life and limb:  
With sighs and tears she 'gan them softly pray  
To keep that promise, when the skies were dim,  
To this and that knight, did she plain, and say  
What grief she felt to part withouten him:  
Meanwhile the ten had donned their armour best,  
And taken leave of Godfrey and the rest.   

78  
The Duke advised them every one apart,  
How light, how trustless was the Pagans faith,  
And told what policy, what wit, what art,  
Avoids deceit, which heedless men betrai'th;  
His speeches pierce their ear, but not their heart,  
Love calls it folly, what so wisdom saith:  
Thus warned he leaves them to their wanton guide,  
Who parts that night; such haste had she to ride.   

79  
The conqueress departs, and with her led  
These prisoners, whom love would captive keep,  
The hearts of those she left behind her, bled,  
With point of sorrows arrow pierced deep.  
But when the night her drowsy mantle spread,  
And filled the earth with silence, shade and sleep,  
In secret sort then each forsook his tent,  
And as blind Cupid led them, blind they went.   

80  
Eustatio first, who scantly could forbear,  
Till friendly night might hide his haste and shame,  
He road in post, and let his beast him bear  
As his blind fancy would his journey frame,  
All night he wandered and he witted not where;  
But with the morning he espied the Dame,  
That with her guard up from a village road,  
Where she and they that night had made abode.   

81  
Thither he galloped fast, and drawing near  
Rambaldo knew the knight, and loudly cried,  
Whence comes young Eustace, and what seeks he here?  
I come (quoth he) to serve the Queen Armide,  
If she accept me, would we all were there  
Where my goodwill and faith might best be tried.  
Who (quoth the other) chooseth thee to prove  
This high exploit of hers? he answered, love.   

82  
Love hath Eustatio chosen, fortune thee,  
In thy conceit which is the best election?  
Nay then these shifts are vain, replied he,  
These titles false serve thee for no protection,  
Thou canst not here for this admitted be  
Our fellow servant, in this sweet subjection.  
And who (quoth Eustace angry) dares deny  
My fellowship? Rambaldo answered, I.   

83  
And with that word his cutting sword he drew,  
That glistered bright and sparkled flaming fire,  
Upon his foe the other champion flew,  
With equal courage and with equal ire.  
The gentle Princess (who the danger knew)  
Between them stepped and prayed them both retire.  
Rambald (quoth she) why should you grudge or plain,  
If I a champion, you an helper gain?   

84  
If me you love, why wish you me deprived  
(In so great need) of such a puissant knight?  
But welcome Eustace, in good time arrived,  
Defender of my state, my life, my right,  
I wish my hapless self no longer lived,  
When I esteem such good assistance light:  
Thus talked they on and travailed on their way,  
Their fellowship increasing every day.   

85  
From every side they come, yet witted there none  
Of others coming or of others mind,  
She welcomes all, and telleth every one,  
What joy her thoughts in his arrival find.  
But when Duke Godfrey witted his knights were gone,  
Within his breast his wiser soul devinde  
Some hard mishap upon his friends should light,  
For which he sighed all day, and wept all night.   

86  
A messenger (while thus he mused) drew near,  
All soiled with dust and sweat, quite out of breath,  
It seemed the man did heavy tidings bear,  
Upon his looks sat news of loss and death:  
My Lord (quoth he) so many ships appear  
At sea, that Neptune bears the load uneath,  
From Egypt come they all, this lets thee weete  
William Lord Amrall of the Genoa fleet.   

87  
Besides, a convoy (coming from the shore  
With victual for this noble camp of thine)  
Surprised was, and lost is all that store,  
Mules, horses, camels laden, corn and wine,  
Thy servants fought till they could fight no more;  
For all were slain or captives made in fine:  
Th' Arabian outlaws them assailed by night,  
When least they feared, and lest they looked for fight.   

88  
Their frantic boldness doth presume so far,  
That many Christians have they falsely slain,  
And like a raging flood they sparsed are,  
And overflow each country, field and plain;  
Send therefore some strong troops of men of war,  
To force them hence, and drive them home again,  
And keep the ways between these tents of thine,  
And those broad seas, the seas of Palestine.   

89  
From mouth to mouth the heavy rumour spread  
Of these misfortunes, which dispersed wide  
Among the soldiers, great amazement bred,  
Famine they doubt, and new come foes beside:  
The Duke (that saw their wonted courage fled,  
And in the place thereof weak fear espied)  
With merry looks these cheerful words he spoke,  
To make them heart again and courage take.   

90  
You champions bold, with me that scaped have  
So many dangers, and such hard assays,  
Whom still your God did keep, defend and save,  
In all your battles, combats, fights and frays,  
You that subdued the Turks and Persians brave,  
That thirst and hunger held in scorn always,  
And vanquished hills, and seas, with heat and cold,  
Shall vain reports appall your courage bold?   

91  
That Lord, who helped you out at every need,  
When aught befell this glorious camp amiss,  
Shall fortune all your actions well to speed,  
On whom his mercy large extended is;  
Tofore his tomb, when conquering hands you spreed,  
With what delight will you remember this?  
Be strong therefore, and keep your valours hie  
To honour, conquest, fame and victory.   

92  
Their hope's half dead and courage wellnigh lost,  
reviv'd, with these brave speeches of their guide;  
But in his breast a thousand cares he tossed,  
Although his sorrows he could wisely hide;  
He studied how to feed that mighty host,  
In so great scarcenesss; and what force provide  
He should, against th'Egyptian warriors sly,  
And how subdue those thieves of Arabia.    

The sixth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Argantes calls the Christians out to just:  
Otho not chosen doth his strength assay,  
But from his saddle tumbleth in the dust,  
And captive to the town is sent away:  
Tancred gins new fight, and when both trust  
To win the praise and palm, night ends the fray:  
Erminia hopes to cure her wounded knight,  
And from the city armed rides by night.   

1  
But better hopes had them recomforted  
That lay besieged in the sacred town;  
With new supply late were they vittailed,  
When night obscured the earth with shadows brown,  
Their arms and engines on the walls they spread,  
Their slings to cast, and stones to tumble down;  
And all that side which to the northward lies,  
High rampires and strong bulwarks fortifies.   

2  
Their wary king commands now here now there,  
To build this tower, to make that bulwark strong,  
Wither the sun, the moon, or stars appear,  
To give them light, to work no time comes wrong:  
In every street new weapons forged were,  
By cunning smiths, sweeting with labour long;  
While thus the careful Prince provision maid,  
To him Argantes came, and boasting said.   

3  
How long shall we (like prisoners in chains)  
Captived lie enclosed within this wall?  
I see your workmen taking endless pains  
To make new weapons, for no use at all;  
Meanwhile these Western thieves destroy the plains,  
Your towns are burnt, your forts and castles fall,  
Yet none of us dares at these gates outpeepe,  
Or sound one trumpet shrill to break their sleep.   

4  
Their time in feasting and good cheer they spend,  
Nor dare we once their banquets sweet molest,  
The days and nights they bring likewise to end,  
In peace, assurance, quiet, ease and rest:  
But we must yield, whom hunger soon will shend,  
And make for peace (to save our lives) request,  
Else (if th'Egyptian army stay too long)  
Like cowards die within this fortress strong.   

5  
Yet never shall my courage great consent  
So vile a death should end my noble days,  
Nor on mine arms, within these walls ipent,  
To morrows sun shall spread his timely rays:  
Let sacred heavens dispose (as they are bend)  
Of this frail life, yet not withouten praise  
Of valour, prowess, might, Argantes shall  
Inglorious die, or unrevenged fall.   

6  
But if the roots of wont chivalry  
Be not quite dead, your princely breast within,  
devise not how with fame and praise to die,  
But how to live, to conquer and to win;  
Let us together at these gates out-flie,  
And skirmish bold, and bloody fight begin;  
For when last need to desperation driveth,  
Who dareth most, he wisest counsel giveth.   

7  
But if in field your wisdom dare not venture  
To hazard all your troops to doubtful fight,  
Then bind yourself to Godfrey by endenter,  
To end your quarrels, by one single knight:  
And, for the Christian this accord shall enter  
With better will, say such you know your right,  
That he the weapons, place and time, shall choose,  
And let him for his best, that vantage use.   

8  
For though your foe had hands, like Hector strong,  
With heart unfeared, and courage stern and stout,  
Yet no misfortune can your justice wrong,  
And what that wanteth, shall this arm help out,  
In spite of fate shall this right hand ere long,  
Return victorious: if hereof you doubt,  
Take it for pledge, wherein if trust you have,  
It shall yourself defend and kingdom save.   

9  
Bold youth (the tyrant thus began to speak)  
Although I withered seem with age and years,  
Yet are not these old arms so faint and weak,  
Nor this hoar head so full of doubts and fears;  
But when as death this vital thread shall break,  
He shall my courage hear, my death who hears:  
And Aladine that lived a king and knight,  
To his fair morn will have an evening bright.   

10  
But that (which yet I would have further blaised)  
To thee in secret shall be told and spoken,  
Great Soliman of Nice (so far ipraised,  
To be revenged, for his sceptre broken)  
The men of arms of Arabia hath raised,  
From Ind to Africa, and (when we give token)  
Attends the favour of the friendly night  
To victual us, and with our foes to fight.   

11  
Now though Godfredo hold by warlike feat  
Some castles poor, and forts in vile oppression,  
Care not for that; for still our princely seat,  
This stately town, we keep in our possession:  
But thou appease and calm that courage great,  
Which in thy bosom makes so hot impression;  
And stay fit time, which will betide ere long,  
T'increase thy glory, and revenge our wrong.   

12  
The Saracine at this was inly spited,  
Who Soliman's great worth had long envied,  
To hear him praised thus he nought delighted,  
Nor that the king upon his aid relied:  
Within your power (sir king) he says, united  
Are peace and war, nor shall that be denied;  
But for the Turk and his Arabian band,  
He lost his own, shall he defend your land?   

13  
Perchance he comes some heaunly messengare,  
Sent down to set the Pagan people free,  
Then let Argantes for himself take care:  
This sword (I trust) shall well safeconduct me:  
But while you rest and all your forces spare,  
That I go forth to war at least agree,  
Though not your champion, yet a private knight,  
I will some Christian prove in single fight.   

14  
The king replied, though thy force and might  
Should be reserved, to better time and use;  
Yet that thou challenge some renowned knight,  
Among the Christians bold I not refuse.  
The warrior breathing out desire of fight,  
An herald called, and said, go tell these news  
To Godfrey's self, and to the Western Lords,  
And in their hear boldly say these words.   

15  
Say that a knight (who holds in great disdain  
To be thus closed up in secretmew)  
Will with his sword in open field maintain,  
(If any dare deny his words for true)  
That no devotion (as they falsely feign)  
Hath moved the French these countries to subdue;  
But vile ambition, and prides hateful vice,  
Desire of rule and spoil, and covetise.   

16  
And that to fight I am not only priest  
With one or two that dare defend the cause,  
But come the fourth or fift, come all the rest,  
Come all that will, and all that weapon draws,  
Let him that yields obey the victor's hest,  
As wills the lore of mighty Mars his laws:  
This was the challenge that fierce Pagan sent,  
The herald donned his coat of arms, and went.   

17  
And when the man before the presence came  
Of princely Godfrey, and his captains bold;  
My Lord (quoth he) may I withouten blame  
Before your grace, my message brave unfold?  
Thou Mayst, he answered, we approve the same,  
Withouten fear, be thine embassage told.  
Then (quoth the herald) shall your highness see,  
If this embassage sharp or pleasing Bee.   

18  
The challenge 'gan he then at large expose,  
With mighty threats, high terms and glorious words,  
On every side an angry murmur rose,  
To wrath so moved were the knights and Lords.  
Then Godfrey spoke and said, the man hath chose  
An hard exploit, but when he feels our swords,  
I trust we shall so fair entreat the knight,  
As to excuse the fourth or fift of fight.   

19  
But let him come and prove, the field I grant,  
Nor wrong nor treason let him doubt or fear,  
Some here shall pay him for his glorious vaunt,  
Without or guile or vantage, that I swear.  
The herald turned when he had ended scant,  
And hasted back the way he came whileare,  
Nor stayed he ought, nor once foreslowed his pace,  
Till he bespoke Argantes face to face.   

20  
Arm you, my Lord, he said, your bold defies  
By your brave foes accepted boldly been,  
This combat neither high nor low denies,  
Ten thousand wish to meet you on the green;  
A thousand frowned with angry flaming eyes,  
And shaked for rage their swords and weapons keen;  
The field is safely granted by their guide,  
This said, the champion for his armour cried.   

21  
While he was armed, his heart for ire nigh broke,  
So earned his courage hot his foe to find:  
The king, to fair Clorinda present, spoke;  
If he go forth, remain not you behind,  
But of our soldiers best a thousand take,  
To guard his person and your own assigned;  
Yet let him meet alone the Christian knight,  
And stand yourself aloof, while they two fight.   

22  
Thus spoke the king, and soon without abode  
The troup went forth in shining armour clad,  
Before the rest the Pagan champion road,  
His wont arms and ensigns all he had:  
A goodly plain displayed wide and broad,  
Between the city and the camp was sprad,  
A place like that wherein proud Rome beheild  
He forward young men menage spear and shield.   

23  
There all alone Argantes took his stand,  
Defying Christ, and all his servants true,  
In stature, stomach, and in strength of hand,  
In pride, presumption, and in dreadful show,  
Encelade like, on the Phlegraean strand,  
Or that huge giant Ishaies infant flew;  
But his fierce semblant they esteemed light,  
For most not knew, or else not seared, his might.   

24  
As yet not one had Godfrey singled out  
To undertake this hardy enterpries,  
But on prince Tancred saw he all the rout  
Had fixed their wishes, and had cast their eyes,  
On him he spied them gazing round about,  
As though their honour on his prowess lies,  
And now they whispered louder what they meant,  
Which Godfrey heard and saw, and was content.   

25  
The rest gave place; for every one descried  
To whom their chieftains will did most incline,  
Tancred (quoth he) I pray thee calm the pride,  
Abate the rage, of yonder Sarracine:  
No longer would the chosen champion bide,  
His face with joy, his eyes with gladness shine,  
His helm he took, and ready steed bestroad,  
And guarded with his trusty friends, forth road.   

26  
But scantly had he spurred his courser swift  
near to that plain, where proud Argantes stayed,  
When unawares his eyes he chanced to lift,  
And on the hill beheld the warlike maid,  
As white as snow upon the Alpine cleft  
The virgin shone, in silver arms arrayed,  
Her ventall up so high, that he descried  
Her goodly visage, and her beauty's pride.   

27  
He saw not where the Pagan stood, and stared,  
As if with looks he would his foeman kill,  
But full of other thoughts he forward fared,  
And sent his looks before him up the hill,  
His gesture such his troubled soul declared,  
At last as marble rock he standeth still,  
Stone-cold, without; within, burnt with loves flame,  
And quite forgot himself, and why he came.   

28  
The challenger, that yet saw none appear  
That made or sign or show he came to just,  
How long (cried he) shall I attend you hear?  
Dares none come forth? dares none his fortune trust?  
The other stood amazed, love stopped his ear,  
He thinks on Cupid, think of Mars who lust;  
But forth start Otho bold, and took the field,  
A gentle knight, whom God from danger shield.   

29  
This youth was one of those, who late desired  
With that vainglorious boaster to have fought,  
But Tancred chosen, he and all retired:  
Yet to the field the valiant Prince they brought,  
Now when his slackness he a while admired,  
And saw elsewhere employed was his thought,  
Nor that to just (though chosen) once he proffered,  
He boldly took that fit occasion offered.   

30  
No tiger, panther, spotted leopard,  
Runs half so swift, the forests wild among,  
As this young champion hasted thitherward,  
Where he attending saw the Pagan strong:  
Tancredie started with the noise he hard,  
As waked from sleep, where he had dreamt long,  
Oh stay he cried, to me belongs this war,  
But cried too late, Otho was gone too far.   

31  
Then full of fury, anger and despite,  
He stayed his horse, and waxed red for shame,  
The fight was his, but now disgraced quite  
Himself he thought, another played his game;  
Meanwhile the Sarracine did hugely smite  
On Othoes' helm, who to requite the same,  
His foe quite through his seven-fold targe did bear,  
And in his breastplate stuck and broke his spear.   

32  
Th'encounter such, upon the tender grass,  
Down from his steed the Christian backward fell;  
Yet his proud foe so strong and sturdy was,  
That he nor shook, nor staggered in his cell,  
But to the knight, that lay full low (alas)  
In high disdain his will thus 'gan he tell,  
Yield thee my slave, and this thine honour be,  
Thou Mayst report thou hast encountered me.   

33  
Not so (quoth he) perdie it's not the guise  
Of Christian knights, though fallen, so soon to yield;  
I can my fall excuse in better wise,  
And will revenge this shame, or die in field.  
The great Circassian bend his frowning eyes,  
Like that grim visage in Minerva's shield,  
Then learn (quoth he) what force Argantes useth  
Against that fool, that proffered grace refuseth.   

34  
With that he spurred his horse with speed and haste,  
(Forgetting what good knights to virtue own)  
Otho his fury shunned, and (as he passed)  
At his right side he reached a noble blow,  
Wide was the wound, the blood outstreamed fast,  
And from his side fell to his stirrup low:  
But what avails to hurt, if wounds augment  
Our foes fierce courage, strength and hardiment?   

35  
Argantes nimbly turned his ready stead,  
And ere his foe was witted or well aware,  
Against his side he drove his courser's head,  
What force could he 'gainst so great might prepare?  
Weak were his feeble joints, his courage dead,  
His heart amazed, his paleness show'd his care,  
His tender side 'gainst the hard earth he cast,  
Shamed, with the first fall; bruised, with the last.   

36  
The victor spurred again his lightfoot stead,  
And made his passage over Otho's heart,  
And cried; these fools thus under foot I tread,  
That dare contend with me in equal mart.  
Tancred for anger shook his noble head,  
So was he grieved with that unknightly part;  
The fault was his, he was so slow before,  
With double valour would he salve that sore.   

37  
Forward he galloped fast, and loudly cried:  
Villain (quoth he) thy conquest is thy shame,  
What praise, what honour shall this fact betide?  
What gain, what guerdon shall befall the same?  
Among th' Arabian thieves thy face go hide,  
Far from resort of men of worth and fame,  
Or else in woods and mountains wild, by night,  
On savage beasts, employ thy savage might.   

38  
The Pagan patience never knew, nor used,  
Trembling for ire, his sandy locks he tore,  
Out from his lips flew such a sound confused,  
As lions make, in deserts thick which roar;  
Or as when clouds together crushed and bruised,  
power down a tempest by the Caspian shore:  
So was his speech imperfect, stopped and broken,  
He roared and thrund'red, when he should have spoken.   

39  
But when with threats they both had whetted keen  
Their eager rage, their fury, spite and ire,  
They turned their steeds, and left large space between,  
To make their forces greater, proaching nire,  
With terms that warlike and that worthy been:  
(O sacred muse) my haughty thoughts inspire,  
And make a trumpet of my slender quill,  
To thunder out this furious combat shrill.   

40  
These sons of Mavors bore (in stead of spears)  
Two knotty masts, which none but they could lift,  
Each foaming steed so fast his master bears,  
That never beast, bird, shaft flew half so swift;  
Such was their fury, as when Boreas tears  
The shattered crags from Taurus' Northern cleft,  
Upon their helms their lances long they broke,  
And up to heaven flew splinters, sparks, and smoke.   

41  
The shock made all the towers and turrets quake,  
And woods and mountains all nie-hand resound;  
Yet could not all that force and fury shake  
The valiant champions, nor their persons wound,  
Together hurtled both their steeds, and broke  
Each others neck, the riders lay on ground:  
But they (great masters of wars dreadful art)  
Plucked forth their swords and soon from earth up start.   

42  
Close at his surest ward each warrior lieth,  
He wisely guides his hand, his foot, his eye,  
This blow he proveth, that defence he trieth,  
He traverseth, retireth, presseth nigh,  
Now strikes he out, and now he falsifieth,  
This blow he wardeth, that he lets slip buy,  
And for advantage oft he lets some part  
Discovered seem, thus art deludeth art.   

43  
The Pagan ill defenst with sword or targe  
Tancredies thigh (as he supposed) espied,  
And reaching forth 'gainst it his weapon large,  
Quite naked to his foe leaves his left side;  
Tancred avoideth quick his furious charge,  
And gave him eke a wound deep, sore and wide;  
That done himself safe to his ward retired,  
His courage praised by all, his skill admired.   

44  
The proud Circassian saw his streaming blood,  
Down from his wound (as from a fountain) running,  
He sighed for rage, and trembled as he stood,  
He blamed his fortune, folly, want of cunning;  
He lift his sword aloft, for ire nigh wood,  
And forward rushed: Tancred his fury shunning,  
With a sharp thrust once more the Pagan hit,  
To his broad shoulder where his arm is knit.   

45  
Like as a bear through pierced with a dart,  
Within the secret woods, no further flieth,  
But bites the senseless weapon mad with smart,  
Seeking revenge till unrevenged she dieth;  
So mad Argantes fared, when his proud heart  
Wound upon wound, and shame on shame espieth,  
Desire of vengeance so o'ercame his senses,  
That he forgot all dangers, all defences.   

46  
Uniting force extreme, with endless wrath,  
Supporting both with youth and strength untired,  
His thundering blows so fast about he la'th,  
That skies and earth the flying sparkles fired:  
His foe to strike one blow no leisure hath,  
Scantly he breathed, though he oft desired,  
His warlike skill and cunning all was waste,  
Such was Argantes force, and such his haste.   

47  
Long time Tancredie had in vain attended,  
When this huge storm should overblow and pass,  
Some blows his mighty target well defended,  
Some fell beside and wounded deep the grass;  
But when he saw the tempest never ended,  
Nor that the paynim force aught weaker was,  
He high advanced his cutting sword at length,  
And rage to rage's opposed, and strength to strength.   

48  
Wrath bore the sway, both art and reason fail,  
Fury new force and courage new supplies,  
Their armours forged were of metal frail,  
On every side, thereof huge cantels flies,  
The land was strewed all with plate and mail,  
That, on the earth; on that, their warm blood lies,  
And at each rush and every blow they smote,  
Thunder, the noise; the sparks, seemed lightning hot.   

49  
The Christian people and the Pagans gazed,  
On this fierce combat, wishing oft the end,  
Twixt hope and fear they stood long time amazed,  
To see the knights assail and eke defend:  
Yet neither sign they made, nor noise they raised,  
But for the issue of the fight attend,  
And stood as still, as life and sense they wanted,  
Save that their hearts within their bosoms panted.   

50  
Now were they tired both, and wellnigh spent,  
Their blows show'd greater will, then power to wound:  
But night her gentle daughter darkness, sent  
With friendly shade, to overspread the ground,  
Two heralds to the fight champions went,  
To part the fray, as law of arms them bound,  
Aridens borne in France, and wise Pindore,  
The man that brought the challenge proud before.   

51  
These men their sceptres interpose, between  
The doubtful hazards of uncertain fight;  
For such their privilege hath ever been,  
The law of nations doth defend their right;  
Pindore began, stay, stay, you warriors keen,  
Equal your honour, equal is your might;  
Forbear this combat, so we deem it best,  
Give nighther due, and grant your persons rest.   

52  
Man goeth forth to labour with the sun,  
But with the night, all creatures draw to sleep,  
Nor yet of hidden praise in darkness won,  
The valiant heart of noble knight takes keep.  
Argantes answered him, the fight begun  
Now to forbear, doth wound my heart right deep:  
Yet will I stay, so that this Christian swear,  
(Before you both) again to meet me hear.   

53  
I swear (quoth Tancred) but swear thou likewise,  
To make return, thy prisoner eke with thee;  
Else for achievement of this enterprise,  
None other time but this expect of me:  
Thus swore they both; the heralds both devise,  
What time for this exploit should fittest be:  
And for their wounds of rest and cure had need,  
To meet again the sixth day was decreed.   

54  
This fight was deep imprinted in their hearts,  
That saw this bloody fray to ending brought,  
An horror great possessed their weaker parts,  
Which made them shrink who on this combat thought:  
Much speech was of the praise and high deserts,  
Of these brave champions, that so nobly fought;  
But which for knightly worth was most ipraised,  
Of that was doubt, and disputation raised.   

55  
All long to see them end this doubtful fray,  
And as they favour, so they wish success,  
These hope true virtue shall obtain the day,  
Those trust on fury, strength and hardiness;  
But on Erminia most this burden lay,  
Whose looks her trouble and her fear express;  
For on this dangerous combats doubtful end,  
Her joy, her comfort, hope and life depend.   

96  
Her the sole daughter of that hapless king,  
That of proud Antioch late wore the crown,  
The Christian soldiers to Tancredie bring,  
When they had sacked and spoiled that glorious town;  
But he (in whom all good and virtue spring)  
The virgin's honour saved, and her renown;  
And when her city and her state was lost,  
Then was her person loved, and honoured most.   

57  
He honoured her, served her, and leave her gave,  
And willed her go whither, and when she list,  
Her gold and jewels had he care to save,  
And them restored all, she nothing missed,  
She (that beheld his youth and person brave)  
When, by this deed, his noble mind she witted,  
Laid open her heart for Cupid's shaft to hit,  
Who never knots of love more surer knit.   

58  
Her body free, captived was her heart,  
And love the keys did of that prison bear,  
Prepared to go it was a death to part  
From that kind Lord, and from that prison dear:  
But thou O honour which esteemed art,  
The chiefest vesture noble Ladies wear,  
Enforcest her against her will, to wend  
To Aladine, her mother's dearest friend.   

59  
At Zion was this Princess entertained,  
By that old tyrant and her mother dear,  
Whose loss too soon the woeful damsel plained,  
Her griéfe was such, she lived not half the year,  
Yet banishment, nor loss of friends constrained  
The hapless maid, her passions to forbear,  
For though exceeding were her woe and grief,  
Of all her sorrows yet her love was chief.   

60  
The seely maid in secret longing pined,  
Her hope a mote drawn up by Phoebus' rays,  
Her love a mountain seemed, whereon bright shined  
Fresh memory of Tancred's worth and praise,  
Within her closet if herself she shrined,  
A hotter fire her tender heart assays:  
Taucred at last, to raise her hope nigh dead,  
Before those walls did his broad ensign spread.   

61  
The rest to view the Christian army feared,  
Such seemed their number, such their power and might,  
But she alone her troubled forehead cleared,  
And on them spread her beauty shining bright;  
In every squadron when it first appeared,  
Her curious eye sought out her chosen knight;  
And every gallant that the rest excels,  
The same seems him, so love and fancy tells.   

62  
Within the kingly palace, builded high,  
A turret standeth near the city's wall,  
From which Erminia might at ease descry  
The Western host, the plains and mountains all,  
And there she stood all the long day to spy,  
From Phoebus' rising to his evening fall,  
And with her thoughts disputed of his praise,  
And every thought a scalding sigh did raise.   

63  
From hence the furious combat she surveyed,  
And felt her heart tremble with fear and pain,  
Her secret thought thus to her fancy said,  
Behold thy dear in danger to be slain;  
So with suspect, with fear and grief dismayed,  
Attended she her darlings loss or gain,  
And ever when the Pagan lift his blade,  
The stroke a wound in her weak bosom made.   

64  
But when she saw the end, and witted withal  
Their strong contention should eftsoons begin,  
Amazement strange her courage did appall,  
Her vital blood was icy cold within;  
Sometimes she sighed, sometimes tears let fall,  
To witness what distress her heart was in,  
Hopeless, dismayed, pale, sad, astonished,  
Her love, her fear; her fear, her torment bred.   

65  
Her idle brain unto her soul presented  
Death, in an hundred ugly fashions painted,  
And if she slept, then was her grief augmented,  
With such sad visions were her thoughts acquainted;  
She saw her Lord with wounds and hurts tormented,  
How he complained, called for her help, and fainted,  
And found, awaked from that unquiet sleeping,  
Her heart with panting, sore; eics, red with weeping.   

66  
Yet these presages of his coming ill,  
Not greatest cause of her discomfort wear,  
She saw his blood from his deep wounds distill,  
Nor what he suffered could she bide or bear:  
Besides, report her longing ear did fill,  
Doubling his danger, doubling so her fear,  
That she concludes (so was her courage lost)  
Her wounded Lord was weak, faint, dead almost.   

67  
And for her mother had her taught before  
The secret virtue of each herb that springs,  
Besides fit charms for every wound or sore  
Corruption breedeth, or misfortune brings,  
(An art esteemed in those times of yore,  
Beseeming daughters of great Lords and kings)  
She would herself, be surgeon to her knight,  
And heal him with her skill, or with her sight.   

68  
Thus would she cure her love, and cure her foe  
She must, that had her friends and kinsfolk slain:  
Some cursed weeds her cunning hand did know,  
That could augment his harm, increase his pain;  
But she abhorred to be revenged so,  
No treason should her spotless person stain,  
And vertuelesse she wished all herbs and charms,  
Wherewith false men increase their patient's harms.   

69  
Nor feared she among the bands to stray  
Of armed men, for often had she seen  
The tragic end, of many a bloody fray;  
Her life had full of haps and hazards been,  
This made her bold in every hard assay,  
More than her feeble sex became, I ween,  
She feared not the shake of every reed,  
So cowards are courageous made through need.   

70  
Love, fearless, hardy, and audacious love,  
Embold'ned had this tender damsel so,  
That where wild beasts and serpents glide and move,  
Through Afrikes deserts, durst she ride or go,  
Save that her honour (she esteemed above  
Her life and body's safety) told her no;  
For in the secret of her troubled thought,  
A doubtful combat, love and honour fought.   

71  
O spotless virgin (honour thus begun)  
That my true lore observed firmly haste,  
When with thy foes thou didst in bondage won,  
Remember then I kept thee pure and chaste,  
At liberty, now whither wouldst thou run,  
To lay that field of princely virtue waste?  
Or lose that jewel Ladies hold so dear?  
Is maidenhood so great a load to bear?   

72  
Or deemest thou it a praise of little prize,  
The glorious title of a virgin's name?  
That thou wilt gad by night in giglot wise,  
Amid thine armed foes, to seek thy shame.  
O fool, a woman conquers when she flies,  
Refusal kindleth, proffers quench the flame.  
Thy Lord will judge thou sinnest beyond measure,  
If vainly thus thou waste so rich a treasure.   

73  
The sly deceiver Cupid, thus beguiled  
The simple damsel, with his filled tongue;  
Thou wert not borne (quoth he) in deserts wild  
The cruel bears, and savage beasts among,  
That thou shouldst scorn fair Citherea's child,  
Or hate those pleasures that to youth belong,  
Nor did the gods thy heart of iron frame;  
To be in love is neither sin nor shame.   

74  
Go then, go, whither sweet desire inviteth,  
How can thy gentle knight so cruel be?  
Love in his heart thy griefs and sorrows writeth,  
For thy laments how he complaineth, see.  
Oh cruel woman, whom no care exciteth  
To save his life, that saved and honoured thee!  
He languisheth, one foot thou wilt not move  
To secure him, yet sayst thou art in love.   

75  
No, no, stay here Argantes wounds to cure,  
And make him strong to shed thy darlings blood,  
Of such reward he may himself assure,  
That doth a thankless woman so much good:  
Ah may it be thy patience can endure  
To see the strength of this Circassion wood,  
And not with horror and amazement shrink,  
When on their future fight thou hapst to think?   

76  
Besides the thanks and praises for the deed,  
Suppose what joy, what comfort shalt thou win,  
When thy soft hand doth wholesome plasters spreed,  
Upon the breaches in his ivory skin,  
Thence to thy dearest Lord, may health succeed,  
Strength to his limbs, blood to his cheeks so thin,  
And his rare beauties now half dead and more,  
Thou Mayst to him, him, to thyself restore.   

77  
So shall some part of his adventures bold,  
And valiant acts, henceforth be held as thine;  
His dear embracements shall thee straight enfold,  
Together joined in marriage rites divine:  
Lastly high place of honour shalt thou hold  
Among the matrons sage, and dames Latin,  
In Italy, a land (as each one tells)  
Where valour true, and true religion dwells.   

78  
With such vain hopes the seely maid abused,  
Promised herself mountains, and hills of gold;  
Yet were her thoughts with doubts and fears confused,  
How to escape unseen out of that hold,  
Because the watchmen every minute used  
To guard the walls, against the Christians bold,  
And in such fury and such heat of war,  
The gates or seld, or never, opened ar.   

79  
With strong Clorinda was Erminia sweet,  
In surest links of dearest friendship bound,  
With her she used the rising sun to greet,  
And her (when Phoebus glided under ground)  
She made the lovely partner of her sheet;  
In both their hearts one will, one thought was found;  
Nor ought she hide from that Virago bold,  
Except her love, that tale to none she told.   

80  
That kept she secret, if Clorinda heard  
Her make complaints, or secretly lament,  
To other cause her sorrow she refard:  
Matter enough she had of discontent,  
Like as the bird that having close imbard  
Her tender young ones in the springing bent,  
To draw the searcher further from her nest,  
Cries and complains most, where she needeth least.   

81  
Alone, within her chambers secret part,  
Sitting one day upon her heavy thought,  
Devising by what means, what sleight, what art,  
Her close departure should be safest wrought,  
Assembled in her unresolved heart,  
An hundredth passions strove and ceaseless fought;  
At last she saw high hanging on the wall  
Clorindaes' silver arms, and sighed withal:   

82  
And sighing, softly to herself she said,  
How blessed is this virgin in her might?  
How I envy the glory of the maid,  
Yet envy not her shape or beauty's light;  
Her steps are not with trailing garments stayed,  
Nor chambers hide her valours shining bright;  
But armed she rides, and breaketh sword and spear,  
Nor is her strength restrained by shame or fear.   

83  
Alas, why did not heaven these members frail,  
With lively force and vigour strengthen so?  
That I this silken gown, and slendervaile  
Might for a breastplate, and an helm forego?  
Then should not heat, nor cold, nor rain, nor hail,  
Nor storms that fall, nor blustering winds that blow  
Withhold me, but I would both day and night,  
In pitched field, or private combat, fight.   

84  
Nor hadst thou Argantes, first begun  
With my dear Lord, that fierce and cruel fight,  
But I to that encounter would have run,  
And, haply ta'en him captive by my might;  
Yet should he find (our furious combat done)  
His thraldom easy, and his bondage light;  
For fetters, mine embracements should he prove;  
For diet, kisses sweet; for keeper, love:   

85  
Or else my tender bosom opened wide,  
And heart through pierced with his cruel blade,  
The bloody weapon in my wounded side  
Might cure the wound, which love before had made;  
Then should my soul in rest and quiet slide  
Down to the valleys of th'Elysian shade,  
And my mishap the knight perchance would move,  
To shed some tears upon his murdered love.   

86  
Alas! impossible are all these things,  
Such wishes vain afflict my woeful sprite,  
Why yield I thus to plaints and sorrowings,  
As if all hope and help were perished quite?  
My heart dares much, it soars with Cupid's wings,  
Why use I not for once these armours bright?  
I may sustain a while this shield aloft,  
Though I be tender, feeble, weak and soft.   

87  
Love, strong, bold, mighty, never-tired love,  
Supplieth force to all his servants true;  
The fearful stags he doth to battle move,  
Till each his horns in others blood embrew;  
Yet mean not I the haps of war to prove,  
A stratagem I have devised new,  
Clorinda like in this fair harness dight,  
I will escape out of the town this night.   

88  
I know the men that have the gate to ward,  
If she command dare not her will deny,  
In what sort else could I beguile the guard?  
This way is only left, this will I try:  
O gentle love, in this adventure hard  
Thine handmaid guide, assist and fortify!  
The time, the hour now fitteth best the thing,  
While stout Clorinda talketh with the king.   

89  
Resolved thus without delay she went,  
(As her strong passion did her rashly guide)  
And those bright arms down from the rafter hent,  
Within her closet did she closely hide,  
That might she do unseen; for she had sent  
The rest, on sheevelesse errands from her side,  
And night her stealths brought to their wished end,  
Night, patroness of thieves, and lovers friend.   

90  
Some sparkling fires on heavens bright visage shone,  
His azure rob the orient blueness lost,  
When she (whose wit and reason both were gone)  
Called for a squire she loved and trusted most,  
To whom and to a maid (a faithful one)  
Part of her will she told, how that in post  
She would departed from Judais king, and feigned  
That other cause her sudden flight constrained.   

91  
The trusty squire provided needments meet,  
As for their journey fitting most should be;  
Meanwhile her vesture (pendant to her feet)  
Erminia doffed, as erst determined she,  
Stripped to her petticoat the virgin sweet,  
So slender was, that wonder was to see;  
Her handmaid ready at her mistress will,  
To arm her helped, though simple were her skill.   

92  
The rugged steel oppressed and offended  
Her dainty neck, and locks of shining gold;  
Her tender arm so feeble was, it bended  
When that huge target it presum'de to hold,  
The burnished steel bright rays far off extended,  
She feigned courage, and appeared bold;  
Fast by her side unseen smiled Venus' son,  
As erst he laughed when Alcides spun,   

93  
Oh, with what labour did her shoulders bear  
That heavy burden, and how slow she went!  
Her maid (to see that all the coasts were clear)  
Before her mistress through the streets was sent;  
Love gave her courage, love exiled fear,  
Love to her tired limbs new vigour lent,  
Till she approached where the squire abode,  
There took they horse forthwith and forward road.   

94  
Disguised they went, and by unused ways,  
And secret paths they strove unseen to gone,  
Until the watch they meet, which sore affraies  
These soldiers new, when swords and weapons shone;  
Yet none to stop their journey once assays,  
But place and passage yielded every one;  
For that white armour and that helmet bright,  
Were known and feared, in the darkest night.   

95  
Erminia (though somedeal she were dismayed)  
Yet went she on, and goodly countenance bore,  
She doubted lest her purpose were bewrayed,  
Her too much boldness she repent sore;  
But now the gate her fear and passage stayed,  
The heedless porter she beguiled therefore,  
I am Clorinda, open the gates she cried,  
Where as the king commands, thus late I ride.   

96  
Her woman's voice and terms all framed been,  
Most like the speeches of the Princess stout,  
Who would have thought on horseback to have seen  
That feeble damsel armed round about?  
The porter her obeyed, and she (between  
Her trusty squire and maiden) sallied out,  
And through the secret dales they silent pas,  
Where danger least, least fear, lest peril was.   

97  
But when these fair adventrers entered we are  
Deep in a vale, Erminia stayed her haste,  
To be recalled she had no cause to fear,  
This foremost hazard had she trimly passed;  
But dangers new (tofore unseen) appear,  
New perils she descried, new doubts she cast.  
The way that her desire to quiet brought,  
More difficult now seemed than erst she thought.   

98  
Armed to ride among her angry foes,  
She now perceived it were great oversight,  
Yet would she not (she thought) herself disclose,  
Until she came before her chosen knight,  
To him she purposed to present the rose  
Pure, spotless, clean, untouched of mortal wight,  
She stayed therefore, and in her thoughts more wise,  
She called her squire, whom thus she 'gan advise.   

99  
Thou must (quoth she) be mine ambassador,  
Be wise, be careful, true, and diligent,  
Go to the camp, present thyself before  
The Prince Tancredie, wounded in his tent;  
Tell him thy mistress comes to cure his sore,  
If he to grant her peace and rest consent,  
'Gainst whom fierce love such cruel war hath reased,  
So shall his wounds be cured, her torments eased.   

100  
And say, in him such hope and trust she hath,  
That in his powers she fears no shame nor scorn,  
Tell him thus much, and what so ere he saith,  
Unfold no more, but make a quick return,  
I (for this place is free from harm and scathe)  
Within this valley will meanwhile sojourn,  
Thus spoke the Princess: and her servant true  
To execute the charge imposed, flew;   

101  
And was received (he so discreetly wrought)  
First of the watch, that guarded in their place;  
Before the wounded Prince, than was he brought:  
Who heard his message kind, with gentle grace,  
Which told, he left him tossing in his thought  
A thousand doubts, and turned his speedy pace  
To bring his Lady and his mistress word,  
She might be welcome to that courteous Lord.   

102  
But she, impatient, to whose desire  
Grievous and harmful seemed each little stay,  
Recounts his steps, and thinks, now draws he nire,  
Now enters in, now speaks, now comes his way;  
And that which grieved her most, the careful squire  
Less speedy seemed, than ere before that day;  
Lastly she forward road with love to guide,  
Until the Christian tents at hand she spied.   

103  
Invested in her starry vail, the night  
In her kind arms embraced all this round,  
The silver moon from sea uprising bright  
Spread frosty pearl on the candied ground:  
And Cynthia like for beauties glorious light,  
The lovesick Nymph threw glistering beams around,  
And counsellors of her old love, she made  
Those valleys dumb, that silence, and that shade.   

104  
Beholding then the camp (quoth she) O fair  
And castle-like pavilions, richly wrought!  
From you how sweet me thinketh blows the air,  
How comforts it my heart, my soul, my thought?  
Through heavens fair grace from gulf of sad despair  
My tossed bark, to port well nigh is brought:  
In you I seek redress for all my harms,  
Rest, midst your weapons; peace, amongst your arms.   

105  
Receive me than and let me mercy find,  
As gentle love assureth me I shall,  
Among you had I entertainment kind,  
When first I was the Prince Tancredies thrall:  
I covet not (led by ambition blind)  
You should me in my father's throne install,  
Might I but serve in you my Lord so dear,  
That my content, my joy, my comfort wear.   

106  
Thus parled she (poor soul) and never feared  
The sudden blow of fortunes cruel spite,  
She stood where Phebe's splendent beam appeared  
Upon her silver armour double bright,  
The place about her round the shining cleared,  
Of that pure white wherein the Nymph was dight:  
The tigress great (that on her helmet laid)  
Bore witness where she went, and where she stayed.   

107  
(So as her fortune would) a Christian band  
Their secret ambush there had closely framed,  
Led by two brothers of Italia land,  
Young Polipherne and Alicandro named,  
These with their forces watched to withstand  
Those that brought victuals to their foes untamed,  
And kept that passage; them Erminia spied,  
And fled as fast as her swift steed could ride.   

108  
But Polipherne (before whose watery eyes,  
His aged father strong Clorinda slew)  
When that bright shield and silver helm he spies,  
The championess he thought he saw and knew;  
Upon his hidden mates for aid he cries,  
'Gainst his supposed foe, and forth he flew,  
As he was rash, and heedless in his wrath,  
Bending his lance, thou art but dead he saith.   

109  
As when a chased hind her course doth bend  
To seek by soil to find some ease or good,  
Whether from craggy rock the spring descend,  
Or softly glide within the shady wood;  
If there the dogs she meet, where late she wend  
To comfort her weak limbs in cooling flood,  
Again she flies swift as she fled at first,  
Forgetting weakness, weariness, and thirst.   

110  
So she, that thought to rest her weary sprite,  
And quench the endless thirst of ardent love,  
With dear embracements of her Lord and knight,  
But such as marriage rites should first approve,  
When she beheld her foe with weapon bright  
threatening her death, his hasty courser move,  
Her love, her Lord, herself abandoned,  
She spurred her speedy steed, and swift she fled.   

111  
Erminia fled, scantly the tender grass  
Her Pegasus with his light footsteps bend,  
Her maiden's beast for speed did likewise pass;  
Yet divers ways (such was their fear) they went:  
The squire who all too late returned (alas)  
With tardy news from Prince Tancredies tent,  
Fled likewise, when he saw his mistress gone,  
It booted not to sojourn there alone.   

112  
But Alicandro wiser than the rest,  
Who this supposed Clorinda saw likewise,  
To follow her yet was he nothing priest,  
But in his ambush still and close he lies,  
A messenger to Godfrey he addressed,  
That should him of this accident advise,  
How that his brother chased with naked blade  
Clorindas' self, or else Clorindas' shade:   

113  
Yet that it was, or that it could be she,  
He had small cause or reason to suppose,  
Occasion great and weighty must it be,  
Should make her ride by night among her foes:  
What Godfrey willed that observed he,  
And with his soldiers lay in ambush close:  
These news through all the Christian army went,  
In every cabin talked, and every tent.   

114  
Tancred, whose thoughts the squire had filled with doubt,  
By his sweet words, supposed now, hearing this,  
Alas, the virgin came to seek me out,  
And for my sake her life in danger is;  
Himself forthwith he singled from the rout,  
And road in haste, though half his arms he mis,  
Among those sandy fields and valleys green,  
To seek his love, he gallopte fast unseen.    

The seventh book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

A shepherd fair Erminia entertains,  
Whom whilst Tancredie seeks in vain to find,  
He is entrapped in Armidaes' trains:  
Raimond with strong Argantes is assigned  
To fight, an angel to his aid he gains:  
Satan that sees the pagan's fury blind,  
And hasty wrath turn to his loss and harm,  
Doth raise new tempest, uproar and alarm.   

1  
Erminiaes' steed (this while) his mistress bore  
Through forests thick among the shady treene,  
Her feeble hand the bridle rains forlese,  
Half in a swoon she was for fear I ween;  
But her flit courser spared near the more,  
To bear her through the desert woods unseen  
Of her strong foes, that chased her through the plain,  
And still pursued, but still pursued in vain.   

2  
Like as the weary hounds at last retire,  
Windless, displeased, from the fruitless chase,  
When the sly beast Tapisht in bush and brire,  
No art nor pains can rouse out of his place:  
The Christian knights so full of shame and ire  
Returned back, with faint and weary pace;  
Yet still the fearful Dame fled, swift as wind,  
Nor ever stayed, nor ever looked behind.   

3  
Through thick and thin, all night, all day, she drived,  
Withouten comfort, company or guide,  
Her plaints and tears with every thought revived,  
She heard and saw her griefs, but nought beside:  
But when the sun his burning chariot dived  
In Thet is wave, and weary team untied,  
On Iordans sandy banks her course she stayed  
At last, there down she light, and down she laid.   

4  
Her tears, her drink; her food, her sorrowings,  
This was her diet that unhappy night:  
But sleep (that sweet repose and quiet brings)  
To ease the griefs of discontented wight,  
Spread forth his tender, soft, and nimble wings,  
In his dull arms folding the virgin bright;  
And love, his mother, and the graces kept  
Strong watch and ward, while this fair Lady slept.   

5  
The birds awaked her with their morning song,  
Their warbling music pierced her tender ear,  
The murmuring brooks and whistling winds among  
The rattling boughs, and leaves, their parts did bear;  
Her eyes unclosed beheld the groves along  
Of swains and shepherd grooms, that dwellings wear;  
And that sweet noise, birds, winds and waters sent,  
provoked again the virgin to lament.   

6  
Her plaints were interrupted with a sound,  
That seemed from thickest bushes to proceed,  
Some jolly shepherd sung a lusty round,  
And to his voice had tuned his oaten reed;  
Thither she went, an old man there she found,  
(At whose right hand his little flock did feed)  
Set making baskets, his three sons among,  
That learned their father's art, and learned his song.   

7  
Beholding one in shining arms appear  
The seely man and his were sore dismayed;  
But sweet Erminia comforted their fear,  
Her ventall up, her visage open laid,  
You happy folk, of heaven beloved dear,  
Work on (quoth she) upon your harmless traid,  
These dreadful arms I bear no warfare bring  
To your sweet toil, nor those sweet tunes you sing.   

8  
But father, since this land, these towns and towers,  
Destroyed are with sword, with fire and spoil,  
How many it be unhurt, that you and yours  
In safety thus, apply your harmless toil?  
My son (quoth he) this poor estate of ours  
Is ever safe from storm of warlike broil;  
This wilderness doth us in safety keep,  
No thundering drum, no trumpet breaks our sleep.   

9  
Haply just heavens defence and shield of right,  
Doth love the innocence of simple swains,  
The thunderbolts on highest mountains light,  
And seld or never strike the lower plains;  
So kings have cause to fear Bellona's might,  
Not they whose sweat and toil their dinner gains,  
Nor ever greedy soldier was enticed  
By poverty, neglected and despised.   

10  
O poverty, chief of the heavenly brood,  
Dearer to me than wealth or kingly crown!  
No wish for honour, thirst of others good,  
Can move my heart, contented with mine own:  
We quench our thirst with water of this flood,  
Nor fear we poison should therein be thrown;  
These little flocks of sheep and tender goats  
Give milk for food, and wool to make us coats.   

11  
We little wish, we need but little wealth,  
From cold and hunger us to clothe and feed;  
These are my sons, their care preserves from stealth  
Their father's flocks, nor servants more I need:  
Amid these groves I walk oft for my health,  
And to the fishes, birds and beasts give heed,  
How they are fed, in forest, spring and lake,  
And their contentment for ensample take.   

12  
Time was (for each one hath his doting time)  
(These silver locks were golden tresses then)  
That country life I hated as a crime,  
And from the forests sweet contentment ran,  
To Memphis stately palace would I climb,  
And there became the mighty Caliphes' man,  
And though I but a simple gardener wear,  
Yet could I mark abuses, see and hear.   

13  
Enticed on with hope of future gain,  
I suffered long what did my soul displease;  
But when my youth was spent, my hope was vain,  
I felt my native strength at last decrease;  
I 'gan my loss of lusty years complain,  
And wished I had enjoyed the country's peace;  
I bod the court farewell, and with content  
My later age here have I quiet spent.   

14  
While thus he spoke, Erminia hushed and still  
His wise discourses heard, with great attention,  
His speeches grave those idle fancies kill,  
Which in her troubled soul bred such dissension;  
After much thought reform was her will,  
Within those woods to dwell was her intention,  
Till fortune should occasion new afford,  
To turn her home to her desired Lord.   

15  
She said therefore, O shepherd fortunate!  
That troubles some didst whilom feel and prove,  
Yet livest now in this contented state,  
Let my mishap thy thoughts to pity move,  
To entertain me as a willing mate  
In shepherd's life, which I admire and love;  
Within these pleasant groves perchance my heart,  
Of her discomforts, may unload some part.   

16  
If gold or wealth of most esteemed dear,  
If jewels rich, thou didst hold in prize,  
Such store thereof, such plenty have I hear,  
As to a greedy mind might well suffice:  
With that down trickled many a silver tear,  
Two crystal streams fell from her watery eyes;  
Part of her sad misfortunes than she told,  
And wept, and with her wept that shepherd old.   

17  
With speeches kind, he 'gan the virgin dear  
Towards his cottage gently home to guide;  
His aged wife there made her homely cheer,  
Yet welcomed her, and placed her by her side.  
The Princess donned a poor pastoraes gear,  
A kerchief course upon her head she tied;  
But yet her gestures and her looks (I guess)  
Were such, as ill beseemed a shepherdess.   

18  
Not those rude garments could obscure, and hide,  
The heavenly beauty of her angel's face,  
Nor was her princely offspring damnifide,  
Or aught disparag'de, by those labours base;  
Her little flocks to pasture would she guide,  
And milk her goats, and in their folds them place,  
Both cheese and butter could she make, and frame  
Herself to please the shepherd and his dame.   

19  
But oft, when underneath the greenewood shade  
Her flocks lay hid from Phoebus' scorching rays,  
Unto her knight she songs and sonnets made,  
And them engraved in bark of beech and bay;  
She told how Cupid did her first invade,  
How conquered her, and ends with Tancred's praise:  
And when her passions writ she over red,  
Again she mourned, again salt tears she shed.   

20  
You happy trees for ever keep (quoth she)  
This woeful story in your tender rind,  
Another day under your shade may be,  
Will come to rest again some lover kind;  
Who if these trophies of my griefs he see,  
Shall feel dear pity pierce his gentle mind;  
With that she sighed and said, too late I prove  
There is no troth in fortune, trust in love.   

21  
Yet may it be (if gracious heavens attend  
The earnest suit of a distressed wight)  
At my entreat they will vouchsafe to send  
To these huge deserts that unthankful knight,  
That when to earth the man his eyes shall bend,  
And sees my grave, my tomb, and ashes light,  
My woeful death, his stubborn heart may move,  
With tears and sorrows to reward my love.   

22  
So, though my life hath most unhappy been,  
At least yet shall my spirit dead be blest,  
My ashes cold shall buried on this green,  
Enjoy that good this body near possessed.  
Thus she complained to the senseless treene,  
Floods in her eyes and fires were in her breast;  
But he for whom these streams of tears she shed,  
Wandered far off (alas) as chance him led.   

23  
He followed on the footsteps he had traced,  
Till in high woods and forests old he came,  
Where bushes, thorns and trees so thick were placed,  
And so obscure the shadows of the same,  
That soon he lost the tract wherein he paced;  
Yet went he on, which way he could not am,  
But still attentive was his longing ear,  
If noise of horse, or noise of arms he hear.   

24  
If with the breathing of the gentle wind,  
An aspen leaf but shaked on the tree,  
If bird or beast stirred in the bushes blind,  
Thither he spurred, thither he road to see;  
Out of the wood by Cinthiaes' favour kind,  
At last (with travail great and pains) got he,  
And following on a little path, he hard  
A rumbling sound, and hasted thitherward.   

25  
It was a fountain from the living stone,  
That powered down cleree streams, in noble store,  
Whose conduit pipes (united all in one)  
Throughout a rocky channel ghastly roar,  
Here Tancred stayed, and called, yet answered none,  
Save babbling echo, from the crooked shore;  
And there the weary knight at last espies,  
The springing daylight red and white arise.   

26  
He sighed sore, and guiltless heaven 'gan blame,  
That wished success to his desires denied,  
And sharp revenge protested for the same,  
If ought but good his mistress fair betide;  
Than wished he to return the way he came,  
Although he witted not by what path to ride,  
And time drew near when he again must fight,  
With proud Argantes, that vainglorious knight.   

27  
His stalworth steed the champion stout bestroad,  
And pricked fast to find the way he lost,  
But through a valley as he musing road,  
He saw a man, that seemed for haste a post,  
His horn was hung between his shoulders broad,  
As is the guise with us: Tacredie crossed  
His way, and gently prayed the man to say,  
To Godfrey's camp how he should find the way.   

28  
Sir (in the Italian language) answered he,  
I ride where noble Boemond hath me sent:  
The Prince thought this his uncles man should be,  
And after him his course with speed he bend,  
A fortress stately built at last they see,  
'Bout which a muddy stinking lake there went,  
There they arrived, when Titan went to rest  
His weary limbs, in nights untroubled nest.   

29  
The currer gave the fort a warning blast;  
The drawbridge was let down by them within:  
If thou a Christian be (quoth he) thou mast  
Till Phoebus' shine again, here take thine inn,  
The county of Cosenza (three days passed)  
This castle from the Turks did nobly win.  
The Prince beheld the piece, which scite and art  
Impregnable had made on every part.   

30  
He feared within a pile so fortified,  
Some secret treason or enchantment lay,  
But had he known even there he should have died,  
Yet should his looks no sign of fear bewray;  
For where so ever will or chance him guied,  
His strong victorious hand still made him way;  
Yet for the combat he must shortly make,  
No new adventures list he undertake.   

31  
Before the castle, in a meadow plain  
Beside the bridges end, he stayed and stood,  
Nor was entreated by the speeches vain  
Of his false guide, to pass beyond the flood.  
Upon the bridge appeared a warlike swain,  
From top to toe all clad in armour good,  
Who brandishing a broad and cutting sword,  
Thus threatened death with many an idle word:   

32  
O thou, whom chance or will brings to the soil,  
Where fair Armida doth the sceptre guide,  
Thou canst not fly, of arms thyself despoil,  
And let thy hands with iron chains be tied;  
Enter and rest thee from thy weary toil,  
Within this dungeon shalt thou safe abide,  
And never hope again to see the day,  
Or that thy hair for age shall turn to grey,   

33  
Except thou swear her valiant knights to aid  
Against those traitors of the Christian crew.  
Tancred at this discourse a little stayed,  
His arms, his gesture and his voice he knew;  
It was Rambaldo, who for that false maid,  
Forsook his country, and religion true,  
And of that fort defender chief became,  
And those vile customs stablished in the same.   

34  
The warrior answered (blushing red for shame)  
Cursed Apostate, and ungracious wight,  
I am that Tancred, who defend the name  
Of Christ, and have been ay his faithful knight;  
His rebel foes can I subdue and tame,  
As thou shalt find before we end this fight;  
And thy false heart cleft with this vengeful sword,  
Shall feel the ire of thy forsaken Lord.   

35  
When that great name Rambaldoes' ears did fill,  
He shook for fear, and looked pale for dread,  
Yet proudly said, Tancred thy hap was ill  
To wander hither where thou art but dead,  
Where nought can help, thy courage, strength and skill,  
To Godfrey will I send thy cursed head,  
That he may see, how for Armidaes' sake,  
Of him and of his Christ a scorn I make.   

36  
This said; the day to sable night was turned,  
That scant one could another's arms descry,  
But soon an hundredth lamps and torches burned,  
That cleared all the earth and all the sky;  
The castle seemed a stage with lights adorned,  
On which men play some pompous tragedy;  
Within a terrace sat on high the Queen,  
And heard and saw, and kept herself unseen.   

37  
The noble Baron whet his courage hot,  
And buskt him boldly to the dreadful fight;  
Upon his horse long while he tarried not,  
Because on foot he saw the Pagan knight,  
Who underneath his trusty shield was got,  
His sword was drawn, closed was his helmet bright;  
'Gainst whom the Prince Marched on a stately pace,  
Wrath in his voice, rage in his eyes and face.   

38  
His foe, his furious charge not well abiding,  
Traversed his ground, and started here and there,  
But he (though faint and weary both with riding)  
Yet followed fast and still oppressed him near,  
And on what side he felt Rambaldo sliding,  
On that his forces most employed were;  
Now at his helm, now at his hawberke bright,  
He thundered blows, now at his face and sight.   

39  
Against those members battery chief he maketh,  
Wherein man's life keeps chiefest residence;  
At his proud threats the Gascoigne warrior quaketh,  
An uncouth fear appalled every sense,  
To nimble shifts the knight himself betaketh,  
And skippeth here and there for his defence;  
Now with his targe, now with his trusty blade,  
Against his blows he good resistance made.   

40  
Yet no such quickness for defenee he used,  
As did the Prince to work him harm and scathe;  
His shield was cleft in twain, his helmet bruised,  
And in his blood his other arms did bathe;  
On him he heaped blows, with thrusts confused,  
And more or less each stroke annoyed him hath;  
He feared, and in his troubled bosom strove,  
Remorse of conscience, shame, disdain and love.   

41  
At last so careless, foul despair him made,  
He meant to prove his fortune ill or good,  
His shield cast down, he took his helpless blade  
In both his hands, which yet had drawn no blood,  
And with such force upon the Prince he lad,  
That neither plate nor mail the blow withstood,  
The wicked steel seized deep in his right side,  
And with his streaming blood his bases died:   

42  
Another stroke he lent him on the brow,  
So great that loudly rung the sounding steel;  
Yet pierced he not the helmet with the blow,  
Although the owner twice or thrice did reel.  
The Prince (whose looks his sdainfull anger show)  
Now meant to use his puissance every devil,  
He shaked his head and crasht his teeth for ire,  
His lips breathed wrath, eyes sparkled shining fire.   

43  
The Pagan wretch no longer could sustain  
The dreadful terror of his fierce aspect,  
Against the threatened blow he saw right plain,  
No tempered armour could his life protect,  
He leapt aside, the stroke fell down in vain,  
Against a pillar near the bridge erect,  
Thence flaming fire and thousand sparks out start,  
And kill with fear the coward Pagans heart.   

44  
Toward the bridge the fearful Painim fled,  
And in swift flight, his hope of life reposed;  
Himself fast after Lord Tancredie sped,  
And now in equal pace almost they closed,  
When all the burning lamps extinguished  
The shining fort his goodly splendute loosed,  
And all those stars on heavens blue face that shone,  
With Cinthiaes' self, dispeared were and gone.   

45  
Amid those witchcrafts and that ugly shade,  
No further could the Prince pursue the chase,  
Nothing he saw, yet forward still he made,  
With doubtful steps, and ill assured pace;  
At last his foot upon a threshold trade,  
And ere he witted he entered had the place;  
With ghastly noise the door leaves shut behind,  
And closed him fast in prison dark and blind.   

46  
As in our seas in the Commachian bay,  
A seely fish (with streams enclosed) striveth,  
To shun the fury and avoid the sway  
Wherewith the currant, in that whirlpool, driveth;  
Yet seeketh all in vain, but finds no way  
Out of that watery prison, where she diveth;  
For with such force there be the tides in brought,  
There entereth all that will, thence issueth nought:   

47  
This prison so entrapped that valiant knight,  
Of which the gate was framed by subtle train,  
To close without the help of human wight,  
So sure, none could undo the leaves again;  
Against the doors he bended all his might,  
But all his forces were employed in vain,  
At last a voice 'gan to him loudly call,  
Yield thee (quoth it) thou art Armidaes' thrall.   

48  
Within this dungeon buried shalt thou spend  
The res'due of thy woeful days and years;  
The champion list not more with words contend,  
But in his heart kept close his griefs and fears,  
He blamed love, chance 'gan he reprehend,  
And 'gainst enchantment huge complaints he rears.  
It were small loss, softly he thus begun,  
To lose the brightness of the shining sun;   

49  
But I alas, the golden beam forego  
Of my far brighter sun, nor can I say  
If these poor eyes shall ere be blessed so,  
As once again to view that shining ray:  
Then thought he on his proud Circassian foe,  
And said, ah! how shall I perform that fray?  
He (and the world with him) will Tancred blamen,  
This is my grief, my fault, mine endless shame.   

50  
While those high spirits of this champion good,  
With love and honours care are thus oppressed,  
While he torments himself, Argantes wood,  
Waxed weary of his bed and of his rest,  
Such hate of peace, and such desire of blood,  
Such thirst of glory, boiled in his breast;  
That though he scant could stir or stand upright,  
Yet longed he for th'appointed day to fight.   

51  
The night which that expected day forwent,  
Scantly the Pagan closed his eyes to sleep,  
He told how night her sliding hours spent,  
And rose ere springing day began to peep;  
He called for armour, which incontinent  
Was brought, by him that used the same to keep,  
That harness rich, old Aladine him gave,  
A worthy present for a champion brave:   

52  
He donned them on, nor loug their riches eyed,  
Nor did he ought with so great weight incline,  
His wont sword upon his thigh he tied,  
The blade was old and tough, of temper fine.  
As when a comet far and wide descried,  
In scorn of Phoebus' midst bright hean'n doth shine,  
And tidings sad of death and mischief brings  
To mighty Lords, to monarchs, and to kings:   

53  
So shone the Pagan in bright armour clad,  
And rolled his eyes great swollen with ire and blood,  
His dreadful gestures threatened horror sad,  
And ugly death upon his forehead stood;  
Not one of all his squires the courage had,  
T'approach their master in his angry mood,  
Above his head he shook his naked blade,  
And 'gainst the subtle air vain battle made.   

54  
That Christian thief (quoth he) that was so bold  
To combat me in hard and single fight,  
Shall wounded fall inglorious on the mould,  
His locks with clods of blood and dust bedight,  
And living shall with watery eyes behold  
How from his back I tear his harness bright,  
Nor shall his dying words me so entreat,  
But that I'll give his flesh to dogs for meat.   

55  
Like as a bull when pricked with jealousy,  
He spies the rival of his hot desire,  
Through all the fields doth bellow, roar and cry,  
And with his thundering voice augments his ire,  
And threatening battle to the empty sky,  
Tears with his horn, each tree, plant, bush and brire,  
And with his foot casts up the sand on height,  
Defying his strong foe to deadly fight:   

56  
Such was the Pagans fury, such his cry,  
An herald called he than, and thus he spoke;  
Go to the camp, and in my name, defy  
The man that combats for his Jesus sake;  
This said, upon his steed he mounted high,  
And with him did his noble prisoner take,  
The town he thus forsook, and on the green  
He ran, as mad or frantic he had been.   

57  
A bugle small he wound loud and shrill,  
That made resound the fields and valleys near,  
Louder than thunder from olympus hill  
Seemed that dreadful blast to all that hear:  
The Christian Lords of prowess, strength and skill,  
Within th'imperial tent assembled wear,  
The herald there in boasting terms defied  
Tancredie first, and all that durst beside.   

58  
With sober cheer Godfredo looked about,  
And viewed at leisure every Lord and knight;  
But yet for all his looks not one stepped out,  
With courage bold, to undertake the fight:  
Absent were all the Christian champious stout,  
No news of Tancred since his secret flight;  
Boemond far off, and banished from the crew,  
Was that strong Prince, who proud Gernando slew:   

59  
And eke those ten which chosen were by lot,  
And all the worthies of the camp beside,  
After Armida false were followed hot,  
When night was come their secret flight to hide;  
The rest their hands and hearts that trusted not,  
Blushed for shame, yet silent still abide;  
For none there was that sought to purchase fame,  
In so great peril, fear exiled shame.   

60  
The angry Duke their fear discovered plain,  
By their pale looks and silence, from each part,  
And as he moved was with just disdain,  
These words he said, and from his seat upstart:  
Unworthy life I judge that coward swain,  
To hazard it even now that wants the heart,  
When this vile Pagan with his glorious boast,  
Dishonours and defies Christ's sacred host.   

61  
But let my camp sit still in peace and rest,  
And my lives hazard at their ease behold,  
Come bring me here my fairest arms and best;  
And they were brought sooner than could be told.  
But gentle Raimond, in his aged breast  
Who had mature advise, and counsel old,  
Than whom in all the camp were none or few  
Of greater might, before Godfredo drew,   

62  
And gravely said, Ah let it not betide,  
On one man's hand to venture all this host!  
No private soldier thou, thou art our guide,  
If thou miscarry all our hope were lost,  
By thee must Babel fall and all her pride;  
Of our true faith thou art the prop and post,  
Rule with thy sceptre, conquer with thy word,  
Let other combats make with spear and sword.   

63  
Let me this Pagans glorious pride assuage,  
These aged arms can yet their weapons use,  
Let other shun Bellona's dreadful rage,  
These silver locks shall not Raimondo 'scuse:  
Oh that I were in prime of lusty age,  
Like you, that this adventure brave refuse,  
And dare not once lift up your coward eyes,  
'Gainst him that you and Christ himself defies!   

64  
Or as I was, when all the Lords of fame  
And German Princes great stood by to view,  
In conrades' court (the second of that name)  
When Leopold in single fight I slew;  
A greater praise I reaped by the same,  
So strong a foe in combat to subdue,  
Than he should do, who all alone should chase,  
Or kill a thousand of these Pagans base.   

65  
Within these arms, had I that strength again,  
This boasting Painim had not lived till now,  
Yet in this breast doth courage still remain;  
For age or years these members shall not bow;  
And if I be in this encounter slain,  
Scotfree Argantes shall not scape, I vow;  
Give me mine arms, this battle shall with praise  
Augment mine honour, got in younger days.   

66  
The jolly Baron old thus bravely spoke,  
His words are spurs to virtue; every knight  
That seemed before to tremble and to quake,  
Now talked bold, ensample hath such might;  
Each one the battle fierce would undertake,  
Now strove they all who should begin the fight;  
Baldwine and Roger both, would combat feign,  
Stephen, Guelpho, Gernier and the Gerrard's twain:   

67  
And Pyrrhus, who with help of Boemonds sword,  
Proud Antioch by cunning sleight oppressed;  
The battle eke with many a lowly word,  
Ralph, Rosimond, and Eberard request,  
A Scotch, an Irish, and an English Lord,  
Whose lands the sea divides far from the rest;  
And for the fight did likewise humbly sue,  
Edward and his Gildippes', lovers true.   

68  
But Raimond more than all the rest doth sue,  
Upon that Pagan fierce to wreak his ire,  
Now wants he nought of all his armours due  
Except his helm, that shone like flaming fire.  
To whom Godfredo thus; O mirror true  
Of antic worth! thy courage doth inspire  
New strength in us, of Mars in thee doth shine  
The art, the honour and the discipline.   

69  
If ten like thee of valour and of age,  
Among these legions I could haply find,  
I should the heat of Babel's pride assuage,  
And spread our faith from Thule to furthest Ind;  
But now I pray thee calm thy valiant rage,  
Reserve thyself till greater need us bind,  
And let the rest each one writ down his name,  
And see whom fortune chooseth to this game,   

70  
Or rather see whom Gods high judgement taketh,  
To whom is chance and fate and fortune slave:  
Raimond his earnest suit not yet forsaketh,  
His name writ with the res'due would he have,  
Godfrey himself in his bright helmet shaketh  
The scrolls, with names of all the champions brave,  
They drew, and red the first whereon they hit,  
Wherein was Raimond Earl of Tholouse writ.   

71  
His name with joy and mighty shouts they bliss;  
The rest allow his choice, and fortune praise,  
New vigour blushed through those looks of his:  
It seemed he now resumed his youthful days,  
Like to a snake whose slough new changed is,  
That shines like gold against the sunny rays:  
But Godfrey most approved his fortune high,  
And wished him honour, conquest, victory.   

72  
Then from his side he took his noble brand,  
And giving it to Raimond, thus he spoke;  
This is the sword wherewith in Saxon land,  
The great Rubello battle used to make,  
From him I took it fight hand to hand,  
And took his life with it, and many a lake  
Of blood with it I have shed since that day,  
With thee God grant it prove as happy may.   

73  
Of these delays meanwhile impatient,  
Argantes threat'neth loud and sternly cries,  
O glorious people of the Occident!  
Behold him here that all your host defies:  
Why comes not Tancred, whose great hardiment,  
With you is prized so dear? Perdie he lies  
Still on his pillow, and presumes the night  
Again may shield him from my power and might.   

74  
Why than some other come, by band and band  
Come all, come forth on horseback, come on foot,  
If not one man dares combat hand to hand,  
In all the thousands of so great a rout:  
See where the tomb of Mary's son doth stand,  
March thither warriors bold, what makes you doubt?  
Why run you not, there for your sins to weep,  
Or to what greater need these forces keep?   

75  
Thus scorned by that heathen Sarracine,  
Were all the soldiers of Christ's sacred name:  
Raimond (while others at his words repine)  
Burst forth in rage, he could not bear this shame:  
For fire of courage brighter far doth shine,  
If challenges and threats augment the same;  
So that, upon his steed he mounted light,  
Which Aquilino for his swiftness hight.   

76  
This jennet was by Tagus bred; for oft  
The breeder of these beasts to war assigned,  
When first on trees burgeon the blossoms soft,  
Pricked forward with the sting of fertile kind,  
Against the air cast up her head aloft,  
And gath'reth seed so from the fruitful wind,  
And thus conceiving of the gentle blast,  
(A wonder strange and rare) she foals at last.   

77  
And had you seen the beast, you would have said  
The light and subtle wind his father was;  
For if his course upon the sands he maid,  
No sign was left what way the beast did pass;  
Or if he managed were, or if he played,  
He scantly bended down the tender grass:  
Thus mounted road the Earl, and as he went,  
Thus prayed, to heaven his zealous looks up bend,   

78  
O Lord, that didst save, keep and defend  
Thy servant David, from Goliath rage,  
And broughtest that huge giant to his end,  
Slain by a faithful child, of tender age;  
Like grace (O Lord) like mercy now extend,  
Let me this vile blasphemous pride assuage,  
That all the world may to thy glory know,  
Old men and babes thy foes can overthrow.   

79  
Thus prayed the county, and his prayers dear  
Strengthened with zeal, with godliness and faith,  
Before the throne of that great Lord appear,  
In whose sweet grace is life, death in his wraith,  
Among his armies bright and legions clear,  
The Lord an angel good selected haith,  
To whom the charge was given to guard the knight,  
And keep him safe from that fierce Pagans might.   

80  
The angel good, appointed for the guard  
Of noble Raimond from his tender eild,  
That kept him than, and kept him afterward,  
When spear and sword he able was to wield,  
Now when his great creators will he hard,  
That in this fight he should him chief shield,  
Up to a tower set on a rock he flies,  
Where all the heavenly arms and weapons lies:   

81  
There stands the lance wherewith great Michael slew  
The aged dragon in a bloody fight,  
There are the dreadful thunders forged new,  
With storms and plagues that on poor sinners light;  
The massy trident Mayst thou pendant view,  
There on a golden pin hung up on height,  
Wherewith sometimes he smites this solid land,  
And throws down towns & towers thereon which stand.   

82  
Among the blessed weapons there which stands  
Upon a diamond shield his looks he bended,  
So great that it might cover all the lands,  
Twixt Caucasus and Atlas hills extended;  
With it the Lords dear flocks and faithful bands,  
The holy kings and cities are defended,  
The sacred angel took this target sheen,  
And by the Christian champion stood unseen.   

83  
But now the walls and turrets round about,  
Both young and old with many thousands fill;  
The king Clorinda sent and her brave rout,  
To keep the field, she stayed upon the hill:  
Godfrey likewise some Christian bands sent out,  
Which armed and ranked in good array stood still,  
And to their champions empty let remain  
Twixt either troup a large and spacious plain.   

84  
Argantes looked for Tancredie bold,  
But saw an uncouth foe at last appear,  
Raimond road on, and what he asked him, told,  
Better thy chance, Tancred is now elsewhere,  
Yet glory not of that, myself behold  
Am come prepared, and bid thee battle hear,  
And in his place, or for myself, to fight,  
Lo here I am, who scorn thy heathenish might.   

85  
The Pagan cast a scornful smile, and said,  
But where is Tancred, is he still in bed?  
His looks late seemed to make high heaven afraid,  
But now for dread he is or dead or fled,  
But were earths centre or the deep sea maid  
His lurking hole, it should not save his head.  
Thou liest, he says, to say so brave a knight  
Is fled from thee, who thee exceeds in might.   

86  
The angry Pagan said, I have not spilled  
My labour then, if thou his place supply,  
Go, take the field, and let's see how thou wilt  
Maintain thy foolish words and that brave lie;  
Thus parled they to meet in equal tilt,  
Each took his aim at others helm on high,  
Even in the sight his foe good Raimond hit,  
But shaked him not, he did so firmly sit.   

87  
The fierce Circassian miss of his blow,  
A thing which seld befell the man before,  
The angel by unseen his forced did know,  
And far awry the poignant weapon bore,  
He burst his lance against the sand below,  
And bitten his lips for rage, and cursed and swore,  
Against his foe returned he swift as wind,  
Half mad in arms a second match to find;   

88  
Like to a ram that butts with horned head,  
So spurred he forth his horse with desperate race:  
Raimond at his right hand let slide his stead,  
And as he passed struck at the Pagans face;  
He turned again the Earl nothing dread,  
Yet stepped aside and to his rage gave place,  
And on his helm with all his strength 'gan smite,  
Which was so hard his courtlax could not bite.   

89  
The Sarracine employed his art and force,  
To gripe his foe within his mighty arms;  
But he avoided nimbly with his horse,  
He was no prentice in those fierce alarms,  
About him made he many a winding corpse,  
No strength, no sleight the subtle warrior harms,  
His nimble steed obeyed his ready hand,  
And where he stepped no print left in the sand.   

90  
As when a captain doth besiege some hold,  
Set in a marish or high on a hill,  
And trieth ways and wiles a thousand fold,  
To bring the piece subjecteth to his will;  
So fared the county with the Pagan bold,  
And when he did his head and breast none ill,  
His weaker parts he wisely 'gan assail,  
And entrance searched oft twixt mail and mail;   

91  
At last he hit him on a place or twain,  
That on his arms the red blood trickled down,  
And yet himself untouched did remain,  
No nail was broke, no plume cut from his crown;  
Argantes raging spent his strength in vain,  
Waste were his strokes, his thrusts were idle thrown,  
Yet pressed he on, and doubled still his blows,  
And where he hits he neither cares nor knows.   

92  
Among a thousand blows the Sarracine  
At last stroke one, when Raymond was so near,  
That not the swiftness of his Aquiline  
Can his dear Lord from that huge danger bear:  
But lo (at hand unseen was help divine,  
Which saves when worldly comforts none appear)  
The angel on his targe received that stroke,  
And on that shield Argantes sword was broke.   

93  
The sword was broke, therein no wonder lies,  
If earthly tempered metal could not hold,  
Against that target forged above the skies,  
Down fell the blade in pieces on the mould,  
The proud Circassian scant believed his eyes,  
Though nought were left him but the hilts of gold,  
And full of thoughts amazed a while he stood,  
Wondering the Christians armour was so good.   

94  
The brittle web of that rich sword he thought,  
Was broke through hardness of the Counties shield;  
And so thought Raimond, who discovered nought,  
What succour heaven did for his safety yield:  
But when he saw the man 'gainst whom he fought,  
Unweaponed, still stood he in the field;  
His noble heart esteemed the glory light,  
At such advantage if he slew the knight.   

95  
Go fetch, he would have said, another blade,  
When in his heart a better thought arose,  
How for Christ's glory he was champion made,  
How Godfrey had him to this combat chose,  
The army's honour on his shoulder lad,  
To hazards new he list not that expose;  
While thus his thoughts debated on the case,  
The hilts Argantes hurled at his face.   

96  
And forward spurred his mounture fierce withal,  
Within his arms longing his foe to strain,  
Upon whose helm the heavy blow did fall,  
And bend well nigh the metal to his brain:  
But he, whose courage was heroical,  
Leapt by and makes the Pagans onset vain,  
And wounds his hand, which he outstretched saw,  
Fiercer than eagle's talon, lions paw.   

97  
Now here now there on every side he road,  
With nimble speed, and spurred now out now in,  
And as he went and came still laid on load  
Where Lord Argantes arms were weak and thin,  
All that huge force which in his arms abode,  
His wrath, his ire, his great desire to win,  
Against his foe together all he bend,  
And heaven and fortune furthred his intent.   

98  
But he, whose courage for no peril fails,  
Well armed and better hearted, scorns his power,  
Like a tall ship when spent are all her sails,  
Which still resists the rage of storm and shower,  
Whose mighty ribs fast bound with bands and nails,  
Withstands fierce Neptune's wrath, for many an hour,  
And yields not up her bruised keel to winds,  
In whose stern blasts no ruth nor grace she finds.   

99  
Argantes such thy present danger was,  
When Satan stirred to aid thee at thy need,  
In human shape he forged an airy mass,  
And made the shade a body seem indeed;  
Well might the spirit for Clorinda pas,  
Like her it was, in armour and in weed,  
In stature, beauty, countenance and face,  
In looks, in speech, in gesture and in pace.   

100  
And for the spirit should seem the same indeed,  
From where she was whose show and shape it had,  
Towards the wall it road with feigned speed,  
Where stood the people all dismayed and sad  
To see their knight of help have so great need,  
And yet the law of arms all help forbade.  
There in a turret sat a soldier stout  
To watch, and at a loop-hole peeped out;   

101  
The spirit spoke to him called Oradine,  
The noblest archer then that handled bow,  
O Oradin (quoth she) who strait as line  
Canst shoot, and hit each mark set high or low,  
If yonder knight (alas) be slain in fine,  
As likest is, great ruth it were you know,  
And greater shame, if his victorious foe  
Should with his spoils triumphant homeward go.   

102  
Now prove thy skill, thine arrows sharp head dip  
In yonder thievish Frenchman's guilty blood,  
I promise thee thy sovereign shall not slip,  
To give thee large rewards for such a good;  
Thus said the spirit: the man did laugh and skip  
For hope of future gain, nor longer stood,  
But from his quiver huge a shaft he hent,  
And set it in his mighty bow new bend,   

103  
Twanged the string, out flew the quarrel long,  
And through the subtle air did singing pass,  
It hit the knight the buckles rich among,  
Wherewith his precious girdle fastened was,  
It bruised them and pierced his hawberke strong,  
Some little blood down trickled on the grass;  
Light was the wound; the angel by unseen,  
The sharp head blunted of the weapon keen.   

104  
Raimond drew forth the shaft (as much behoved)  
And with the steel, his blood out streaming came,  
With bitter words his foe he than reproved,  
For breaking faith, to his eternal shame.  
Godfrey whose careful eyes from his beloved  
Were never turned, saw and marked the same,  
And when he viewed the wounded county bleed,  
He sighed, and feared, more perchance than need;   

105  
And with his words and with his threatening eyes,  
He stirred his captains to revenge that wrong;  
Forthwith the spurred courser forward hies,  
Within their rests put were their lances long,  
From either side a squadron brave out flies,  
And boldly made a fierce encounter strong,  
The raised dust to overspread begun  
Their shining arms, and far more shining sun.   

106  
Of breaking spears, of ringing helm and shield,  
A dreadful rumour roared on every side,  
There lay an horse, another through the field  
Ran masterless, dismounted was his guide;  
Here one lay dead, there did another yield,  
Some sighed, some sobbed, some prayed and some cried;  
Fierce was the fight, and longer still it lasted,  
Fiercer and fewer, still themselves they wasted.   

107  
Argantes nimbly leapt amid the throng,  
And from a soldier wrung an iron mace,  
And breaking through the ranks and ranges long,  
Therewith he passage made himself and place,  
Raimond he sought, the thickest press among,  
To take revenge for late received disgrace,  
A grecdie wolf he seemed, and would assuage  
With Raimond's blood his hunger and his rage.   

108  
The way he found not easy as he would,  
But fierce encounters put him oft to pain,  
He met Ormanno and Rogero bold,  
Of Balnavile, Guy, and the Gerard's twain;  
Yet nothing might his rage and haste withhold,  
These worthies strove to stop him, but in vain,  
With these strong lets increased still his ire,  
Like rivers stopped, or closely smouldred fire.   

109  
He slew Ormanno, wounded Guy, and laid  
Rogero low, among the people slain,  
On every side new troops the man invaid,  
Yet all their blows were waste, their onsets vain.  
But while Argantes thus his prizes played,  
And seemed alone this skirmish to sustain,  
The Duke his brother called and thus he spoke,  
Go with thy troup, fight for thy saviours sake;   

110  
There enter in where hottest is the fight,  
Thy force against the left wing strongly bend,  
This said, so brave an onset gave the knight,  
That many a Painim bold there made his end  
The Turks too weak seemed to sustain his might,  
And could not from his power their lives defend,  
Their ensigns rend and broke was their array,  
And men and horse on heaps together lay.   

111  
O'erthrown likewise away the right wing ran,  
Nor was there one again that turned his face,  
Save bold Argantes, else fled every man,  
Fear drove them thence on heaps, with headlong chase:  
He stayed alone, and battle new began,  
Five hundredth men, weaponed with sword and mace,  
So great resistance never could have made,  
As did Argantes with his single blade:   

112  
The strokes of swords and thrusts of many a spear,  
The shock of many a just, he long sustained,  
He seemed of strength enough this charge to bear,  
And time to strike now here now there he gained,  
His armours broke, his members bruised wear,  
He sweat and bled, yet courage still he feigned;  
But now his foes upon him pressed so fast,  
That with their weight they bore him back at last.   

113  
His back against this storm at length he turned,  
Whose headlong fury bore him backward still,  
Not like to one that fled, but one that murned  
Because he did his foes no greater ill,  
His threatening eyes like flaming torches burned,  
His courage thirsted yet more blood to spill,  
And every way and every mean he sought,  
To stay his flying mates, but all for nought.   

114  
This good he did, while thus he played his part,  
His bands and troops at ease, and safe, retired;  
Yet coward dread lacks order, fear wants art,  
Deaf to attend, commanded or desired.  
But Godfrey that perceived in his wise heart,  
How his bold knights to victory aspired,  
Fresh soldiers sent, to make more quick pursuit,  
And help to gather conquests precious fruit.   

115  
But this (alas) was not th'appointed day,  
Set down by heaven to end this mortal war,  
The Western Lords this time had borne away  
The prize, for which they travailed had so far,  
Had not the devils (that saw the sure decay  
Of their faise kingdom by this bloody war)  
At once made heaven and earth with darkness blind,  
And stirred up tempests, storms and blustering wind.   

116  
Heavens glorious lamp wrapped in an ugly vail  
Of shadows dark, was hid from mortal eye,  
And hell's grim blackness did bright skies assail,  
On every side the fiery lightnings fly,  
The thunders roar, the streaming rain and hail  
power down, and make that sea which erst was dry,  
The tempests rend the oaks and Cedars broke,  
And make not trees, but rocks and mountains shake.   

117  
The rain, the lightning and the raging wind,  
Bet in the Frenchman's eyes, with hideous force,  
The soldiers stayed amazed in heart and mind,  
The terror such stopped both man and horse,  
Surprised with this evil no way they find,  
Wither for secure to direct their corpse.  
But wise Clorinda soon th'advantage spied,  
And spurring forth thus to her soldiers cried:   

118  
You hardy men at arms behold (quoth she)  
How heaven, how justice in our aid doth fight,  
Our visages are from this tempest free,  
Our hands at will may wield our weapons bright,  
The fury of this friendly storm you see  
Upon the foreheads of our foes doth light,  
And blinds their eyes, then let us take the tide,  
Come follow me, good fortune be our guide.   

119  
This said, against her foes on road the Dame,  
And turned their backs against the wind and rain,  
Upon the French with furious rage she came,  
And scorned those idle blows they struck in vain;  
Argantes at the instant did the same,  
And them who chased him now chased again,  
Nought but his fearful back, each Christian shows  
Against the tempest, and against their blows.   

120  
The cruel hail and deadly wounding blade,  
Upon their shoulders smote them as they fled,  
The blood new spilled while thus they slaughter made,  
The water fallen from skies had died red,  
Among the murdered bodies Pyrrhus lad,  
And valiant Raiphe his heart blood there out bled,  
The first subdued by strong Argantes might,  
The second conquered by that virgin knight.   

121  
Thus fled the French, and them pursued in chase  
The wicked spirits and all the Syrian train:  
But 'gainst their force and 'gainst the fell menace  
Of hail and wind, of tempest and of rain,  
Godfrey alone turned his audacious face,  
Blaming his Barons for their fear so vain,  
Himself the camp gate boldly stood to keep,  
And saved his men within his trenches deep,   

122  
And twice upon Argantes proud he flew,  
And beat him backward maugre all his might,  
And twice his thirsty sword he did embrew  
In pagan's blood where thickest was the fight;  
At last himself with all his folk withdrew,  
And that days conquest gave the virgin bright,  
Which got, she home retired and all her men,  
And thus she chased this lion to his den.   

123  
Yet ceased not the fury and the ire  
Of these huge storms, of wind, of rain and hail,  
Now was it dark, now shone the lightning fire,  
The wind and water every place assail,  
No bank was safe, no rampire left entire,  
No tent could stand, when beam and cordage fail,  
Wind, thunder, rain, all gave a dreadful sound,  
And with that music deafed the trembling ground.    

The eight book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Amessenger to Godfrey sage doth tell  
The Prince of Denmark's valour, death and end:  
Th' Italians trusting signs untrue too well,  
Think their Rinaldo slain: the wicked fend  
Breeds fury in their breasts, their bosoms swell  
With ire and hate, and war and strife forth send:  
They threaten Godfrey, he prays to the Lord,  
And calms their fury with his look and word.   

1  
NOw were the skies of storms and tempests cleared,  
Lord AEolus, shut up his winds in hold,  
The silver mantled morning fresh appeared,  
With roses crowned, and buskined high with gold:  
The spirits yet which had these tempests reared,  
Their malice would still more and more unfold;  
And one of them that Astragor was named,  
His speeches thus, to foul Allecto framed.   

2  
Allecto, see, we could not stop nor stay.  
The knight that to our foes new tidings brings,  
Who from the hands escaped (with life away)  
Of that great Prince, chief of all Pagan kings,  
He comes, the fall of his slain Lord to say,  
Of death and loss he tells, and such sad things,  
Great news he brings, and greatest danger is,  
Bertoldoes' son shall be called home for this.   

3  
Thou knowst what would befall, bestir thee than;  
Prevent with craft, what force could not withstand,  
Turn to their evil the speeches of the man,  
With his own weapon wound Godfredoes hand;  
Kindle debate, infect with poison won  
The English, Swisser and Italian band,  
Great tumults move, make brawls and quarrels rife,  
Set all the camp on uproar and at strife.   

4  
This act beseems thee well, and of the deed  
Much Mayst thou boast, before our Lord and king,  
Thus said the spirit: persuasion small did need,  
The monster grants to undertake the thing.  
Meanwhile the knight whose coming thus they dread,  
Before the camp his weary limbs doth bring,  
And well nigh breathless, warriors bold (he cried)  
Who shall conduct me to your famous guide?   

5  
An hundredth strove the strangers guide to be,  
To hearken news the knights by heaps assemble,  
The man fell lowly down upon his knee,  
And kissed the hand that made proud Babel tremble;  
Right puissant Lord, whose valiant acts (quoth he)  
The sands and stars in number best resemble,  
Would God some gladder news I might unfold,  
And there he pawsed, and sighed; then thus he told:   

6  
Sweno the king of Denmark's only hair,  
The stay and staff of his declining eild,  
Longed to be among these squadrons fair,  
Who for Christ's faith here serve with spear and shield,  
No weariness, no storms of sea or air,  
No such contents as crowns and sceptres yield,  
No dear entreaties of so kind a sire,  
Can in his bosom quench that glorious fire.   

7  
He thirsted sore to learn this warlike art  
Of thee, great Lord and master of the same,  
And was ashamed in his noble heart,  
That never act he did deserved fame;  
Besides, the news and tidings from each part  
Of young Rinaldoes' worth, and praises came;  
But that which most his courage stirred haith  
Is zeal, religion, godliness and faith.   

8  
He hasted forward than without delay,  
And with him took of knights a chosen band,  
Directly toward Thrace we took the way,  
To Bizance old, chief fortress of that land,  
There the Greek monarch gently prayed him stay,  
And there an herald sent from you we found,  
How Antioch was won, who first declared,  
And how defended nobly afterward.   

9  
Defended 'gainst Corbana valiant knight,  
That all the Persian armies had to guide,  
And brought so many soldiers bold to fight,  
That void of men he left that kingdom wide,  
He told thine acts, thy wisdom and thy might,  
And told the deeds of many a Lord beside,  
His speech at length to young Rinaldo past  
And told his great achievements, first and last:   

10  
And how this noble camp of yours, of late  
Besieged had this town, and in what sort,  
And how you prayed him to participate  
Of the last conquest, of this noble fort.  
In hardy Sweno opened was the gate  
Of worthy anger, by this brave report,  
So that each hour seemed five years long,  
Till he were fight, with these Pagans strong.   

11  
And while the herald told your fights and frays,  
Himself of cowardice reproved he thought,  
And him, to stay that counsels him, or prays,  
He hears not, or (else heard) regardeth nought,  
He fears no perils, but (whilst he delays)  
Lest this last work without his help be wrought:  
In this his doubt, in this his danger lies,  
No hazard else he fears, no peril spies.   

12  
Thus hasting on, he hasted on his death,  
Death that to him and us was fatal guide,  
The rising morn appeared yet uneath,  
When he and we were armed, and fit to ride,  
The nearest way seemed best, o'er hoult and heath  
We went, through deserts waste and forests wide,  
The streets and ways he openeth as he goes,  
And sets each land, free from intruding foes.   

13  
Now want of food, now dangerous ways we find,  
Now open war, now ambush closely laid;  
Yet passed we forth, all perils left behind,  
Our foes or dead, or run away afraid,  
Of victory so happy blew the wind,  
That careless all, and heedless to it maid:  
Until one day his tents he happed to rear,  
To Palestine when we approached near,   

14  
There did our scouts return, and bring us news  
That dreadful noise of horse and arms they hear,  
And that they deemed by sundry signs and shows,  
There was some mighty host of Pagans near.  
At these sad tidings many changed their hews,  
Some looked pale for dread, some shook for fear,  
Only our noble Lord was altered nought,  
In look, in face, in gesture or in thought.   

15  
But said, a crown prepare you to possess  
Of martyrdom, or happy victory;  
For this I hope, for that I wish no less,  
Of greater merit, and of greater glory.  
Brethren, this camp will shortly be I guess,  
A temple, sacred to our memory,  
To which the holy men of future age,  
To view our graves shall come in pilgrimage.   

16  
This said, he set the watch in order right  
To guard the camp, along the trenches deep,  
And as he armed was, so every knight  
He willed on his back his arms to keep.  
Now had the stillness of the quiet night  
Drowned all the world in silence and in sleep,  
When suddenly we heard a dreadful sound,  
Which deafed the earth, and tremble made the ground:   

17  
Arm, arm they cried, Prince Sweno at the same,  
Glistering in shining steel leapt foremost out,  
His visage shone, his noble looks did flame,  
With kindled brand of courage bold and stout,  
When lo the Pagans to assault us came,  
And with huge numbers hemmed us round about,  
A forest thick of spears about us grew,  
And over us a cloud of arrows flew:   

18  
uneven the fight, unequal was the fray,  
Our enemies were twenty men to one,  
On every side the slain and wounded lay,  
Unseen, where nought but glistering weapons shone:  
The number of the dead could no man say,  
So was the place with darkness overgone,  
The night her mantle black upon us spreedes,  
Hiding our losses, and our valiant deeds.   

19  
But hardy Sweno, midst the other train,  
By his great acts was well descried I wot,  
No darkness could his valour's day light stain,  
Such wondrous blows on every side he smote;  
A stream of blood, a bank of bodies slain,  
About him made a bulwark and a mote,  
And when so ere he turned his fatal brand,  
Dread in his looks, and death sat in his hand,   

20  
Thus fought we till the morning bright appeared,  
And strewed roses on the azure sky,  
But when her lamp had nights thick darkness cleared,  
Wherein the bodies dead did buried lie,  
Then our sad cries to heaven for grief we reared,  
Our loss apparent was, for we descry  
How all our camp destroyed was almost,  
And all our people well nigh slain and lost.   

21  
Of thousands twain an hundredth scant survived,  
When Sweno murdered saw each valiant knight,  
I know not if his heart in sunder rived,  
For dear compassion, of that woeful sight;  
He show'd no change, but said, since so deprived  
We are of all our friends by chance of fight,  
Come follow them, the path to heaven their blood  
Marks out, now angels made, of martyrs good.   

22  
This said, and glad I think of death at hand,  
The signs of heavenly joy shone through his eyes,  
Of Sarracines against a mighty band,  
With fearless heart, and constant breast he flies;  
No steel could shield them from his cutting brand,  
But whom he hits without recure he dies,  
He never struck but field or killed his foe,  
And wounded was himself from top to toe.   

23  
Not strength, but courage now, preserved on live  
This hardy champion, fortress of our faith,  
Strooken he strikes, still stronger more they strive,  
The more they hurt him, more he doth them scaith,  
When towards him a furious knight can drive,  
Of members huge, fierce looks, and full of wraith,  
That with the aid of many a Pagan crew,  
After long fight, at last Prince Sweno slew.   

24  
Ah heavy chance! Down fell the valiant yuth,  
Nor 'mongst us all did one so strong appear,  
As to revenge his death, that this is truth,  
By his dear blood and noble bones I swear,  
That of my life I had nor care nor ruth,  
No wounds I shouned, no blows I would off bear,  
And had not heaven my wished end denied,  
Even there I should, and willing should have died.   

25  
Alive I fell among my fellows slain,  
Yet wounded so that each one thought me dead,  
Nor what our foes did since can I explain,  
So sore amazed was my heart and head;  
But when I opened first mine eyes again,  
Night's curtain black upon the earth was spread,  
And through the darkness to my feeble sight,  
Appeared the twinkling of a slender light.   

26  
Not so much force or judgement in me lies,  
As to discern things seen and not mistake,  
I saw like them, who open and shut their eyes  
By turns, now half asleep, now half awake,  
My body eke another torment tries,  
My wounds began to smart, my hurts to ache,  
For every sore, each member pinched was,  
With night's sharp air, heavens frost, and earths cold grass.   

27  
But still the light approached near and near,  
And with the same a whispering murmur run,  
Till at my side arrived both they wear,  
When I to spread my feeble eyes begun:  
Two men behold in vestures long appear,  
With each a lamp in hand, who said, O son  
In that dear Lord who helps his servants, trust,  
Who ere they ask grants all things to the just.   

28  
This said, each one his sacred blessing flings  
Upon my coarse, with broad out stretched hand,  
And mumbled hymns and psalms and holy things,  
Which I could neither hear, nor understand;  
Arise (quoth they) with that as I had wings,  
All whole and sound I leapt up from the land,  
O miracle, sweet, gentle, strange and true!  
My limbs new strength received, and vigour new.   

29  
I gazed on them like one, whose heart denai'th  
To think that done, he sees so strangely wrought;  
Till one said thus, O thou of little faith,  
What doubts perplex thy unbelieving thought?  
Each one of us aliving body haith,  
We are Christ's chosen servants, fear us nought,  
Who to avoid the world's allurements vain,  
In wilful penance, hermits poor remain.   

30  
Us messengers to comfort thee elect  
That Lord hath sent that rules both heaven and hell;  
Who often doth his blessed will effect,  
By such weak means, as wonder is to tell;  
He will not that this body lie neglect,  
Wherein so noble soul did lately dwell,  
To which again when it uprisen is,  
It shall united be, in lasting bliss.   

31  
I say Lord Swenoes' corpses, for which prepared  
A tomb there is according to his worth,  
By which his honour shall be far declared,  
And his just praises spread from south to north:  
But lift thine eyes up to the heavens ward,  
Mark yonder light that like the sun shines forth,  
That shall direct thee with those beams so clear,  
To find the body of thy master dear.   

32  
With that I saw from Cinthia's silver face,  
Like to a falling star a beam down slide,  
That bright as golden line marked out the place,  
And lightened with clear streams the forest wide,  
So Latmos shone when Phebe left the chase,  
And laid her down by her Endymion's side;  
Such was the light, that well discern I could  
His shape, his wounds, his face (though dead) yet bold.   

33  
He lay not groveling now, but as a knight  
That ever had to heavenly things desire,  
So towards heaven the Prince lay bolt upright,  
Like him, that upward still sought to aspire,  
His right hand closed held his weapon bright,  
Ready to strike and execute his ire,  
His left upon his breast was humbly laid,  
That men might know, that while he died he prayed.   

34  
Whilst on his wounds with bootless tears I wept,  
That neither helped him, nor eased my care,  
One of those aged fathers to him stepped,  
And forced his hand that needless weapon spare:  
This sword (quoth he) hath yet good token kept,  
That of the Pagans blood he drunk his share,  
And blusheth still, he could not save his Lord,  
Rich, strong and sharp, was never better sword.   

35  
Heaven therefore will not, though the Prince be slain,  
Who used erst to wield this precious brand,  
That so brave blade unused should remain;  
But that it pass from strong, to stronger hand,  
Who with like force can wield the same again,  
And longer shall in grace of fortune stand,  
And with the same shall bitter vengeance take,  
On him that Sweno slew, for Swenoes' sake.   

36  
Great Soliman killed Sweno, Soliman  
For Swenoes' sake, upon this sword must die.  
Here take the blade and with it haste thee than  
Thither where Godfrey doth encamped lie,  
And fear not thou that any shall or can  
Or stop thy way, or lead thy steps awry;  
For he that doth thee on this message send,  
Thee with his hand shall guide, keep and defend.   

37  
Arrived there it is his blessed will,  
With true report that thou declare and tell  
The zeal, the strength, the courage, and the skill  
In thy beloved Lord, that late did dwell,  
How for Christ's sake he came his blood to spill,  
And sample left to all of doing well,  
That future ages may admire his deed,  
And courage take when his brave end they reed.   

38  
It resteth now, thou know that gentle knight,  
That of this sword shall be thy master's hair,  
It is Rinaldo young, with whom in might  
And martial skill, no champion may compare,  
Give it to him and say; the heavens bright  
Of this revenge to him commit the cairo.  
While thus I list'ned what this old man said,  
A wonder new from further speech us stayed;   

39  
For there whereas the wounded body lay,  
A stately tomb with curious work (behold)  
And wondrous art was built out of the clay,  
Which rising round the carcase did enfold,  
With words engraven in the marble grey,  
The warriors name, his worth and praise that told,  
On which I gazing stood, and often read  
That epitaph of my dear master dead.   

40  
Among his soldiers (quoth the hermit) hear  
Must Swenoes' corpses remain in marble chest,  
While up to heaven are flown their spirits dear,  
To live in endless joy for ever blest,  
His funeral thou hast with many a tear  
Accompanied, it's now high time to rest,  
Come be my guest, until the morning ray  
Shall light the world again, then take thy way.   

41  
This said, he led me over holts and hags,  
Through thorns and bushes scant my legs I drew,  
Till underneath an heap of stones and crags  
At last he brought me to a secret mew,  
Among the bears, wild boars, the wolves and stags,  
There dwelled he safe with his disciple true,  
And feared no treason, force, nor hurt at all,  
His guiltless conscience was his castles wall.   

42  
My supper, roots; my bed, was moss and leaves;  
But weariness in little rest found ease:  
But when the purple morning night bereaves  
Of late usurped rule, on lands and seas,  
His loathed couch each wakeful hermit leaves,  
To pray rose they, and I, for so they please,  
I congee took when ended was the same,  
And hitherward, as they advised me, came.   

43  
The Dane his woeful tale had done, when thus  
The good Prince Godfrey answered him, sir knight,  
Thou bringest tidings sad and dolorous,  
For which our heavy camp laments of right,  
Since so brave troops and so dear friends to us,  
One hour hath spent, in one unlucky fight;  
And so appeared hath thy master stout,  
As lightning doth, now kindled, now quenched out.   

44  
But such a death and end exceedeth all  
The conquests vain of realms, or spoils of gold,  
Nor aged Rome's proud stately capital,  
Did ever triumph yet like theirs behold,  
They sit in heaven on thrones celestial,  
Crowned with glory, for their conquest bold,  
Where each his hurts I think to other shows,  
And glory in those bloody wounds and blows.   

45  
But thou who hast part of thy race to run,  
With haps and hazards of this world ytossed,  
Rejoice, for those high honours they have won,  
Which cannot be by chance or fortune crossed:  
But for thou askest for Bertoldoes' son,  
Know, that he wandereth, banished from this host,  
And till of him new tidings some man tell,  
Within this camp I deem it best thou dwell.   

46  
These words of theirs in many a soul renewed  
The sweet remembrance of fair Sophia's child,  
Some with salt tears for him their cheeks bedewed,  
Lest evil betid him 'mongst the Pagans wild,  
And every one his valiant prowess showed,  
And of his battles stories long compiled,  
Telling the Dane his acts and conquests past,  
Which made his ears amazed, his heart aghast.   

47  
Now when remembrance of the youth had wrought  
A tender pity in each softened mind,  
Behold returned home with all they caught,  
The bands that were to forage late assigned,  
And with them in abundance great they brought  
Both flocks and herds of every sort and kind,  
And corn although not much, and hay to feed  
Their noble steads and coursers when they need.   

48  
They also brought of misadventure sad  
Tokens and signs, seemed too apparent true,  
Rinaldoes' armour frusht and hacked they had,  
Oft pierced through, with blood besmeared new,  
About the camp, (for always rumours bad,  
Are furthest spread) these woeful tidings flew,  
Thither assembled strait both high and low,  
Longing to see what they were loath to know.   

49  
His heavy hawberke was both seen and known,  
And his broad shield, wherein displayed flies  
The bird, that proves her chickens for her own,  
By looking 'gainst the sun with open eyes,  
That shield was to the Pagans often shown  
In many a hard and hardy enterpries,  
But now with many a gash and many a stroke,  
They see (and sigh to see it) frusht and broke.   

50  
While all his soldiers whispered under hand,  
And here and there the fault and cause do lay,  
Godfrey before him called Aliprand  
Captain of those that brought of late this pray,  
A man who did on points of virtue stand,  
Blameless in words, and true what ere he say,  
Say (quoth the Duke) where you this armour had,  
Hid not the truth, but tell it good or bad.   

51  
He answered him, as far from hence think I  
As on two days a speedy post well rideth,  
To Gaza ward a little plain doth lie,  
Itself among the steepy hills which hideth,  
Through it slow falling from the mountains hie,  
A rolling brook twixt bush and bramble glideth,  
Clad with thick shade of boughs of broad leaved treene,  
Fit place for men to lie in wait unseen.   

52  
Thither, to seek some flocks or herds, we went  
Perchance close hid under the green wood shaw,  
And found the springing grass with blood besprent,  
A warrior tumbled in his blood we saw,  
His arms though dusty, bloody, hacked and rend,  
Yet well we knew, when near the coarse we draw;  
To which (to view his face) in vain I started,  
For from his body his fair head was parted;   

53  
His right hand wanted eke, with many a wound  
The trunk through pierced was from back to breast,  
A little by his empty helm we found  
The silver Eagle shining on his crest,  
To spy at whom to ask we gazed round,  
A churl towards us his steps addressed,  
But when us armed by the coarse he spied,  
He ran away his fearful face to hide,   

54  
But we pursued him, took him, spoke him fair,  
Till comforted at last he answer made,  
How that the day before, he saw repair  
A band of soldiers from that forests shade,  
Of whom one carried by the golden hair  
A head, but late cut off with murdering blade,  
The face was fair and young, and on the chin  
No sign of beard to bud did yet begin.   

53  
And how in sindall wrapped away he bore  
That head with him hung at his saddle bow,  
And how the murderers by the arms they wore,  
For soldiers of our camp he well did know;  
The carcase I disarmed and weeping sore,  
Because I guest who should that harness own;  
Away I brought it, but first order gave,  
That noble body should be laid in grave.   

56  
But if it be his trunk whom I believe,  
A nobler tomb his worth deserveth well,  
This said good Aliprando took his leeve,  
Of certain troth he had no more to tell.  
Sore sighed the Duke, so did these news him grieve,  
Fears in his heart, doubts in his bosom dwell,  
He earned to know, to find, and learn the truth,  
And punish would them that had slain the yuth.   

57  
But now the night despred her lazy wings,  
o'er the broad fields of heavens bright wilderness,  
Sleep the soul's rest, and ease of careful things,  
Buried in happy peace, both more and less,  
Thou Argillan alone, whom sorrow stings  
Still wakest, musing on great deeds I guess,  
Nor sufferest in thy watchful eyes to creep,  
The sweet repose, of mild and gentle sleep.   

58  
This man was strong of limbs, and all his says  
Were bold, of ready tongue, and working sprite,  
Near Trento borne, bred up in brawls and frays,  
In jars, in quarrels, and in civil fight,  
For which exiled, the hills and public ways  
He filled with blood, and robb'ries day and night,  
Until to Asia's wars at last he came,  
And boldly there he served, and purchased fame.   

59  
He closed his eyes at last when day drew near,  
Yet slept he not, but senseless lay oppressed,  
With strange amazedness, and sudden fear,  
Which false Allecto breathed in his breast,  
His working powers within deluded wear,  
Stone still he quiet lay, yet took no rest,  
For to his thought the fiend herself presented,  
And with strange visions his weak brain tormented.   

60  
A murdered body huge beside him stood,  
Of head and right hand both, but lately spoiled,  
His left hand bore the head, whose visage good,  
Both pale and wan, with dust and gore defoiled,  
Yet spoke, though dead, with whose sad words, the blood  
Forth at his lips, in huge abundance boiled,  
Fly Argillan from this false camp fly far,  
Whose guide, a traitor; captains, murderers ar.   

61  
Godfrey hath murdered me by treason vile,  
What favour than hope you my trusty friends?  
His villain heart is full of fraud and guile,  
To your destruction all his thoughts he bends,  
Yet if thou thirst, of praise for noble style,  
If in thy strength thou trust, thy strength that ends  
All hard assays, fly not, first with his blood  
Appease my ghost wandering by Lethe flood;   

62  
I will thy weapon whet, inflame thine ire,  
Arm thy right hand, and strengthen every part.  
This said; even while she spoke she did inspire  
With fury, rage, and wrath his troubled heart:  
The man awaked, and from his eyes like fire  
The poisoned sparks of headstrong madness start,  
And armed as he was forth is he gone,  
And gathered all th'Italian bands in one.   

63  
He gathered them where lay the arms that late  
Were good Rinaldoes'; then with semblance stout,  
And furious words, his fore conceived hate  
In bitter speeches, thus he vomits out;  
Is not this people barbarous and ingrate,  
In whom troth finds no place, faith takes no rout?  
Whose thirst unquenched is of blood and gold,  
Whom no yoke boweth, bridle none can hold.   

64  
So much we suffered have these seven years long,  
Under this servile and unworthy yoke,  
That thorough Rome and Italy our wrong  
A thousand years hereafter shall be spoke:  
I count not how Cilicias kingdom strong,  
Subdued was by Prince Tancredies stroke,  
Nor how false Baldwine him that land bereaves  
Of virtues harvest, fraud there reaped the sheaves:   

65  
Nor speak I how each hour, at every need  
Quick, ready, resolute at all assays,  
With fire and sword we hasted forth with speed,  
And bore the brunt of all their fights and frays;  
But when we had performed and done the deed,  
At ease and leisure they divide the preys,  
We reaped nought but travail for our toil,  
Their was the praise, the realms, the gold, the spoil.   

66  
Yet all this season were we willing blind,  
Offended, unrevenged, wronged, but unwroken,  
Light griefs could not provoke our quiet mind,  
But now (alas) the mortal blow in strooken,  
Rinaldo have they slain, and law of kind,  
Of arms, of nations and of high heaven broken,  
Why doth not heaven kill them with fire and thunder?  
To swallow them why cleaves not earth asunder?   

67  
They have Rinaldo slain the sword and shield  
Of Christ's true faith, and unrevenged he lies,  
Still unrevenged lieth in the field  
His noble corpses, to feed the crows and pies:  
Who murdered him? who shall us certain yield?  
Who sees not that although he wanted eyes?  
Who knows not how th'Italian chivalry  
Proud Godfrey, and false Baldwine both envy?   

68  
What need we further proof? Heaven, heaven I swear,  
Will not consent herein we be beguiled,  
This night I saw his murdered spirit appear,  
Pale, sad and wan, with wounds and blood defiled,  
A spectacle full both of grief and fear,  
Godfrey for murdering him, the ghost reviled.  
I saw it was no dream, before mine eyes,  
How ere I look, still still me thinks it flies.   

69  
What shall we do? shall we be governed still,  
By this false hand, contaminate with blood?  
Or else departed and travail forth, until  
To Euphrates we come, that sacred flood?  
Where dwells a people void of martial skill,  
Whose cities rich, whose land is fat and good,  
Where kingdoms great we may at ease provide,  
Far from these French men's malice, from their pride.   

70  
Than let us go, and no revengement take  
For this brave knight, though it lie in our power,  
No, no, that courage rather newly wake,  
Which never sleeps in fear and dread one hour,  
And this pestiferous serpent, poisoned snake,  
Of all our knights that hath destroyed the flower,  
First let us slay, and his deserved end  
Ensample make to him that kills his friend.   

71  
I will, I will, if your courageous force,  
Dareth so much as it can well perform,  
Tear out his cursed heart without remorse?  
The nest of treason false and guile enorm.  
Thus spoke the angry knight, with headlong corpse  
The rest him followed like a furious storm,  
Arm, arm, they cried, to arms the soldiers ran,  
And as they run, arm, arm, cried every man.   

72  
'mongst them Allecto strewed wasteful fire,  
Enuenoming the hearts of most and least,  
Follie, disdain, madness, strife, rancour, ire,  
Thirst to shed blood, in every breast increased,  
This ill spread far, and till it set on fire  
With rage, th'Italian lodgings never ceased,  
From thence unto the Swissers camp it went,  
And last infected every English tent.   

73  
Not public loss of their beloved knight,  
Alone stirred up their rage and wrath untamed,  
But fore-conceived griefs, and quarrels light,  
Their ire still nourished, and still inflamed,  
Awaked was each former cause of sprite,  
The Frenchmen cruel and unjust they named,  
And with bold threats they made their hatred known,  
Hate ceil kept close, and oft unwisely shown:   

74  
Like boiling liquor in a seething pot,  
That fumeth, swelleth high, and bubbleth fast,  
Till o'er the brims among the embers hot,  
Part of the broth and of the scum it cast,  
Their rage and wrath those few appeased not,  
In whom of wisdom yet remained some taste,  
Camillo, William, Tancred were away,  
And all whose greatness might their madness stay.   

75  
Now headlong ran to harness in this heat  
These furious people, all on heaps confused,  
The roaring trumpets battle 'gan to threat,  
As it in time of mortal war is used,  
The messengers ran to Godfredo great,  
And bod him arm, while on this noise he mused,  
And Baldwin first well clad in iron hard,  
Stepped to his side, a sure and faithful guard.   

76  
Their murmurs heard, to heaven he lift his eine  
As was his wont, to God for aid he fled;  
O Lord, thou knowest this right hand of mine  
Abhorred ever civil blood to shed,  
Illumine their dark souls with light divine,  
Repress their rage, by hellish fury bred,  
The innocency of my guiltless mind  
Thou knowst, and make these know, with fury blind.   

77  
This said, he felt infused in each vain,  
A sacred heat from heaven above distilled,  
A hear in man that courage could constrain,  
That his grave look with awful boldness filled,  
Well guarded forth he went to meet the train  
Of those that would revenge Rinaldo killed;  
And though their threats he heard, and saw them bend  
To arms on every side, yet on he went.   

78  
Above his hawberke strong a cote he ware,  
Embroidered fair with pearl and rich stone,  
His hands were naked, and his face was bare,  
Wherein a lamp of majesty bright shone;  
He shook his golden mace wherewith he dare  
Resist the force of his rebellious fone:  
Thus he appeared, and thus he 'gan them teach  
In shape an angel, and a God in speech:   

79  
What foolish words? what threats be these I hear?  
What noise of arms? who dares these tumults move?  
Am I so honoured? stand you so in fear?  
Where is your late obedience? where your love?  
Of Godfrey's falsehood who can witness bear?  
Who dare or will these accusations prove?  
Perchance you look I should entreaties bring,  
Sue for your favours, or excuse the thing.   

80  
Ah God forbidden, these lands should hear or see  
Him so disgraced, at whose great name they quake;  
This sceptre and my noble acts for me,  
A true defence before the world can make:  
Yet for sharp justice governed shall be  
With clemency, I will no vengeance take  
For this offence, but for Rinaldoes' love,  
I pardon you, hereafter wiser prove.   

81  
But Argillanoes' guilty blood shall wash  
This stain away, who kindled this debate,  
And led by hasty rage and fury rash,  
To these disorders first undid the gate:  
While thus he spoke the lightning beams did flash  
Out of his eyes of majesty and state,  
That Argillan (who would have thought it) shook  
For fear and terror, conquered with his look.   

82  
The rest with undiscreet and foolish wrath  
Who threatened late, with words of shame and pride,  
Whose hands so ready were to harm and scathe,  
And brandished bright swords on every side;  
Now hushed and still attend what Godfrey saith,  
With shame and fear their bashful looks they hide,  
And Argillan they let in chains be bound,  
Although their weapons him environed round.   

83  
So when a lion shakes his dreadful main,  
And beats his tail, with courage proud and wroth,  
If his commander come, who first took pain  
To tame his youth, his lofty crest down goeth,  
His threats he feareth and obeys the rain  
Of thraldom base, and seruiceage, though loath,  
Nor can his sharp teeth nor his armed paws,  
Force him rebel against his ruler's laws.   

84  
Fame is a winged warrior they beheild,  
With semblant fierce and furious look that stood,  
And in his left hand had a splendent shield,  
Wherewith he covered safe their chieftain good,  
His other hand a naked sword did wield,  
From which distilling fell the lukewarm blood,  
The blood perdie of many a realm and town,  
Whereon the Lord his wrath had powered down.   

85  
Thus was the tumult (without bloodshed) ended,  
Their arms laid down, strife into exile sent,  
Godfrey his thoughts to greater actions bended,  
And homeward to his rich pavilion went,  
For to assault the fortress he intended,  
Before the second or third day were spent;  
Meanwhile his timber wrought he oft surveyed,  
Where of his rams and engines great he maid.    

The ninth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Allecto false great Soliman doth move  
By night the Christians in their tents to kill:  
But God who their intents saw from above,  
Sends Michael down from his sacred hill:  
The spirits foul to hell the angel drove;  
The knights delivered from the witch at will  
Destroy the Pagans, scatter all their host:  
The sultan flies when all his bands are lost.   

1  
THe grisly child of Herebus the grim,  
(Who saw these tumults done and tempests spent,  
'Gainst stream of grace who ever strove to swim,  
And all her thoughts against heavens wisdom bend)  
Departed now, bright Titan's beams were dim,  
And fruitful lands waxed barren as she went,  
She sought the rest of her infernal crew,  
New storms to raise, new broils, and tumults new.   

2  
She (that well witted her sisters had enticed,  
By their false arts, far from the Christian host,  
Tancred, Rinaldo, and the rest, best prized  
For martial skill, for might esteemed most)  
Said, (of these discords and these strifes advised)  
Great Solman, when day his light hath lost,  
These Christians shall assail with sudden war,  
And kill them all, while thus they strive and jar.   

3  
With that where Soliman remained she flew,  
And found him out with his Arabian bands,  
Great Soliman, of all Christ's foes untrue,  
Boldest of courage, mightiest of his hands,  
Like him was none of all that earthbred crew  
That heaped mountains on th'Aemonian sands,  
Of Turks he sovereign was, and Nice his seat,  
Where late he dwelled, and ruled that kingdom great.   

4  
The lands forenenst the Greekish shore he held,  
From Sangars mouth to crooked Meanders fall,  
Where they of Phrygia, Misia, Lydia dwelled,  
Bythinias towns, and Pontus' cities all:  
But when the hearts of Christian Princes swelled,  
And rose in arms to make proud Asia thrall,  
Those lands were won where he did sceptre wield,  
And he twice beaten was, in pitched field.   

5  
When fortune of the had in vain assayed,  
And spent his forces, which availd him nought,  
To Egypt's king himself he close conveyed;  
Who welcomed him as he could best have thought,  
Glad in his heart and inly well apaid,  
That to his court so great a lord was brought:  
For he decreed his armies huge to bring,  
To secure Juda land, and Judaes' king.   

6  
But (ere he open war proclam'de) he would  
That Soliman should kindle first the fire,  
And with huge sums of false enticing gold,  
Th'Arabian thieves he sent him forth to hire,  
While he the Asian Lords and morions bold  
Unites; the sultan won to his desire  
Those outlaws, ready aye for gold to fight:  
The hope of gain hath such alluring might.   

7  
Thus made their captain, to destroy and burn  
In Juda land he entered is so fat,  
That all the ways whereby he should return,  
By Godfrey's people, kept and stopped are,  
And now he 'gan his former losses murne,  
This wound had hit him on an elder scar,  
On great adventures run his hardy thought,  
But not assured, he yet resolved on nought.   

8  
To him Allecto came, and semblant bore  
Of one, whose age was great, whose looks were grave,  
Whose cheeks were bloodless, and whose locks were hoar,  
Moustaches strutting long, and chin close shave,  
A steepled turban, on her head she wore,  
Her garment side, and by her side, her glaive,  
Her guilden quiver at her shoulders hung,  
And in her hand a bow was, stiff and strong.   

9  
We have (quoth she) through wildernesses gone,  
Through sterile sands, strange paths, and uncouth ways,  
Yet spoil or booty have we gotten none,  
Nor victory, deserving fame or praise.  
Godfrey meanwhile to ruin stick and stone  
Of this fair town, with battery sore, assays;  
And if a while we rest, we shall behold  
This glorious city smoking lie in mould.   

10  
Are sheep coats burnt, or prays of sheep or kine,  
The cause why Soliman these bands did arm?  
Canst thou that kingdom lately lost of thine  
Recover thus, or thus redress thy harm?  
No, no, when heavens small candles next shall shine,  
Within their tents give them a bold alarm;  
Believe Araspes old, whose grave advice  
Thou hast in exile proved, and proved in Nice.   

11  
He feareth nought, he doubts no sudden broil,  
From these ill armed, and worse hearted, bands,  
He thinks this people, used to rob and spoil,  
To such exploit dares not lift up their hands;  
Up than and with thy courage put to foil  
This fearless camp, while thus secure it stands.  
This said, her poison in his breast she hides,  
And than to shapeless air unseen, she glides.   

12  
The sultan cried, O thou, which in my thought  
Increased haste, my rage and fury so,  
Nor seem'st a wight of mortal metal wrought,  
I follow thee, where so thee list to go,  
Mountains of men by dint of sword down brought  
Thou shalt behold, and seas of red blood flow  
Where ere I go; only be thou my guide,  
When sable night the azure skies shall hide.   

13  
When this was said, he mustered all his crew,  
Reproved the cowards, and allowed the bold:  
His forward camp, inspired with courage new,  
Was ready dight to follow, where he would:  
Alecto's self the warning trumpet blew,  
And to the wind his standard great unrould,  
Thus on they marched, and thus on they went,  
Of their approach their speed the news prevent.   

14  
Allecto left them, and her person dight,  
Like one, that came some tidings new to tell:  
It was the time, when first the rising night  
Her sparkling dimonds, poureth forth to sell,  
When (into Zion come) she marched right  
Where Judais aged tyrant used to dwell,  
To whom of Soliman's designment bold,  
The place, the manner, and the time she told.   

15  
Their mantle dark the grisly shadows spread,  
Stained with spots of deepest sanguine hue,  
Warm drops of blood, on earths black visageshed,  
Supplied the place of pure and precious dew,  
The moon and stars for fear of spirits were fled,  
The shrieking gobbling each where howling flew,  
The Furies roar, the ghosts and Fairies yell,  
The earth was filled with devils, and empty hell.   

16  
The sultan fierce (through all this horror) went  
Toward the camp of his redoubted foes,  
The night was more than half consumed and spent;  
Now headlong down the Western hill she goes,  
When distant scant a mile from Godfrey's tent  
He let his people there a while repose,  
And victailed them, and then he boldly spoke  
These words, which rage and courage might provoke:   

17  
See there a camp, full stuffed of spoils and prays,  
Not half so strong, as false report recordeth;  
See there the storehouse, where their captain lays  
Our treasures stolen, where Asia's wealth he hordeth;  
Now chance the ball unto our racket plays,  
Take than the vantage which good luck affordeth,  
For all their arms, their horses, gold and treasure  
Are ours, ours without loss, harm or displeasure.   

18  
Nor is this camp that great victorious host  
That flew the Persian Lords, and Nice hath won;  
For those in this long war are spent and lost,  
These are the dregs, the wine is all out run,  
And these few left, are drowned and dead almost  
In heavy sleep, the labour half is done,  
To send them headlong to avernus deep,  
For little differs death and heavy sleep.   

19  
Come, come, this sword the passage open shall  
Into their camp, and on their bodies slain  
We will pass over their rampire and their wall;  
This blade, as scythes cut down the fields of grain,  
Shall cut them so, Christ's kingdom now shall fall,  
Asia her freedom, you shall praise obtain:  
Thus he inflamed his soldiers to the fight,  
And led them on through silence of the night.   

20  
The sentinel by star light (lo) descried  
This mighty sultan, and his host draw near,  
Who found not as he hoped the Christians guide  
Unware, ne yet unready was his gear:  
The scout when this huge army they descried  
Ran back, and 'gan with shouts the alarm rear,  
The watch start up and drew their weapons bright,  
And buskt them bold to battle and to fight.   

21  
Th'Arabians witted they could not come unseen,  
And therefore loud their jarring trumpets sound,  
Their yelling cries to heaven up heaved been,  
The horses thundered on the solid ground,  
The mountains roared, and the valleys green,  
The echo sighed from the caves around,  
Allecto with her brand (kindled in hell)  
Tokened to them, in David's tower that dwell.   

22  
Before the rest forth pricked the sultan fast,  
Against the watch, not yet in order just,  
As swift as hideous Boar as hasty blast  
From hollow rocks when first his storms out burst,  
The raging floods, that trees and rocks down cast,  
Thunders, that towns and towers drive to dust:  
Earthquakes, to tear the world in twain that threat,  
Are nought, compared to his fury great.   

23  
He struck no blow, but that his foe he hit;  
And never hit, but made a grievous wound:  
And never wounded, but death followed it;  
And yet no peril, hurt or harm he found,  
No weapon on his hardened helmet bit,  
No puissant stroke his senses once astounded,  
Yet like a bell his tinkling helmet rung,  
And thence flew flames of fire and sparks among.   

24  
Himself well nigh had put the watch to flight,  
A jolly troup of French men strong and stout,  
When his Arabians came by heaps to fight,  
Covering (like raging floods) the fields about;  
The beaten Christians ran away full light,  
The Pagans (mingled with the flying rout)  
Entered their camp, and filled (as they stood)  
Their tents with ruin, slaughter, death and blood.   

25  
High on the sultan's helm enamelled laid  
An hideous dragon, armed with many ascaile,  
With iron paws, and leathrens wings displayed,  
Which twisted on a knot her forked tail,  
With triple tongue it seemed she hist and braid,  
About her jaws the froth and venom trail,  
And as he stirred, and as his foes him hit,  
So flames to cast, and fire she seemed to spit.   

26  
With this strange light, the sultan fierce appeared  
Dreadful to those that round about him been,  
As to poor sailors (when huge storms are reared)  
With lightning flash the raging seas are seen,  
Some fled away, because his strength they feared,  
Some bolder 'gainst him bend their weapons keen,  
And froward night (in evils and mischiefs pleased)  
Their dangershid, and dangers still increased.   

27  
Among the rest (that strove to merit praise)  
Was old Latinus, borne by Tibersbanke,  
To whose stout heart (in fights and bloody frays)  
For all his eeld, base fear yet never sank;  
Five sons he had, the comforts of his days,  
That from his side in no adventure shrank,  
But long before their time, in iron strong  
They clad their members, tender, soft and young.   

28  
The bold ensample of their fathers might  
Their weapons whetted, and their wrath increased,  
Come let us go (quoth he) where yonder knight  
Upon our soldiers makes his bloody feast,  
Let not their slaughter once your hearts affright,  
Where danger most appears, there fear it least;  
For honour dwells in hard attempts (my sons)  
And greatest praise, in greatest peril, wonnes.   

29  
Her tender brood the forests savage Queen  
(Ere on their crests their rugged manes appear,  
Before their mouths by nature armed been,  
Or paws have strength a seely lamb to tear)  
So leadeth forth to pray, and makes them keen,  
And learns by her ensample, nought to fear  
The hunter, in those desert woods that takes  
The lesser beasts, whereon his feast he makes.   

30  
The noble father and his hardy crew  
Fierce Soliman on every side invade,  
At once all six upon the sultan flew,  
With lances sharp, and strong encounters made,  
His broken spear the eldest boy down threw,  
And boldly (over boldly) drew his blade,  
Wherewith he strove (but strove therewith in vain)  
The Pagans stead (unmarked) to have slain.   

31  
But as a mountain or a cape of land  
Assailed with storms and seas on every side,  
Doth unremoved, steadfast, still withstand  
Storm, thunder, lightning, tempest, wind and tide:  
The sultan so withstood Latinus band,  
And unremoved did all their jousts abide,  
And of that hapless youth (who hurt his stead)  
Down to the chin he cloven in twain the head.   

32  
Kind Aramante (who saw his brother slain)  
To hold him up stretched forth his friendly arm,  
O foolish kindness, and O pity vain,  
To add our proper loss, to others harm!  
The Prince let fall his sword and cut in twain  
(About his brother twined) the child's weak arm,  
Down from their saddles both together slide,  
Together mourned they, and together died.   

33  
That done, Sabinos' lance with nimble force  
He cut in twain, and 'gainst the stripling bold  
He spurred his stead, that underneath his horse  
The hardy infant tumbled on the mould,  
Whose soul (out squeezed from his bruised corpse)  
With ugly painfulness forsook her hold,  
And deeply mourned, that of so sweet a cage  
She left the bliss, and joys of youthful age.   

34  
But Picus yet and Laurence were on live,  
Whom at one birth their mother fair brought out,  
A pair whose likeness made the parents strive  
Oft which was which, and joyed in their doubt:  
But what their birth did undistinguished give,  
The sultan's rage made known, for Picus stout  
Headless at one huge blow he laid in dust,  
And through the breast his gentle brother thrust.   

35  
Their father, (but no father now, alas!  
When all his noble sons at once were slain)  
In their five deaths so often murdered was,  
I know not how his life could him sustain,  
Except his heart were forged of steel or bras,  
Yet still he lived, perdie, he saw not plain  
Their dying looks, although their deaths he knows,  
It is some ease, not to behold our woes.   

36  
He wept not, for the night her curtain spread  
Between his cause of weeping and his eyes,  
But still he mourned and on sharp vengeance fed,  
And thinks he conquers, if revenged he dies;  
He thirsts the sultan's heathenish blood to shed,  
And yet his own at less than nought doth prize,  
Nor can he tell whether he leifer would,  
Or die himself, or kill the Pagan bold.   

37  
At last, is this right hand (quoth he) so weak,  
That thou disdainest 'gainst me to use thy might?  
Can it nought do? can this tongue nothing speak  
That may provoke thine ire, thy wrath, and spite?  
With that he struck (his anger great to wreak)  
A blow, that pierced the mail and metal bright,  
And in his flank set open a floodgate wide,  
Whereat the blood out streamed from his side.   

38  
Provoked with his cry, and with that blow  
The Turk upon him 'gan his blade discharge,  
He cloven his breastplate, having first pierced throw  
(Lined with seven bulls hides) his mighty targe,  
And sheathed his weapon in his guts below,  
Wretched Latinus at that issue large,  
And at his mouth, poured out his vital blood,  
And sprinkled with the same his murdered brood.   

39  
On Apennine like as a sturdy tree,  
Against the winds that makes resistance stout,  
If with a storm it overturned be,  
Falls down and breaks the trees and plants about,  
So Latin fell, and with him felled he  
And slew the nearest of the Pagans root,  
A worthy end, fit for a man of fame,  
That dying, slew; and conquered, overcame.   

40  
Meanwhile the sultan strove his rage intern  
To satisfy with blood of Christians spilled,  
Th'Arabians heartened by their captain stern,  
With murder every tent and cabin filled,  
Henry the English knight, and Olipherne,  
O fierce Draguto by thy hands were killed!  
Gilbert and Philip were by Ariadene  
Both slain, both borne upon the banks of Rhine.   

41  
Albazar with his mace Ernesto slew,  
Under Algazell Engerlan down fell,  
But the huge murder of the meaner crew,  
Or manner of their deaths, what tongue can tell?  
Godfrey, when first the heathen trumpets blue,  
Awaked, which heard, no fear could make him dwell,  
But he and his were up and armed ere long,  
And marched forward with a squadron strong,   

42  
He that well heard the tumour and the cry,  
And marked the tumult still grow more and more,  
Th'Arabian thieves he judged by and by  
Against his soldiers made this battle sore;  
For that they forraid all the countries nigh,  
And spoiled the fields, the Duke knew well before,  
Yet thought he not they had the hardiment  
So to assail him in his armed tent.   

43  
All suddenly he heard (while on he went)  
How to the city ward arm, arm, they cried,  
The noise upreared to the firmament  
With dreadful howling filled the valleys wide:  
This was Clorinda, whom the king forth sent  
To battle, and Argantes by her side.  
The Duke (this heard) to Guelpho turned, and prayed  
Him, his lieutenant be, and to him said:   

44  
You hear this new alarm from yonder part,  
That from the town breaks out with so much rage,  
Us needeth much your valour and your art  
To calm their fury, and their heat to suage;  
Go thither then, and with you take some part  
Of these brave soldiers of mine equipage,  
While with the res'due of my champions bold  
I drive these wolves again out of our fold.   

45  
They parted (this agreed on them between)  
By divers paths, Lord Guelpho to the hill,  
And Godfrey hasted where th'Arabians keen,  
His men like seely sheep destroy and kill;  
But as he went his troops increased been,  
From every part the people flocked still,  
That now grown strong enough, he proched nigh  
Where the fierce Turk caused many a Christian die.   

46  
So from the top of Vesulus the cold,  
Down to the sandy valleys, tumbleth Poe,  
Whose streams the further from their fountain rolled  
Still stronger wax, and with more puissance go;  
And horned like a bull his forehead bold  
He lifts, and o'er his broken banks doth flow,  
And with his horns to pierce the sea assays,  
To which he profteth war, not tribute pays.   

47  
The Duke his menfast flying did espy,  
And thither ran, and thus (displeased) spoke,  
What fear is this? O whither do you fly?  
See who they be that this pursuit do make,  
A heartless band, that dare no battle try,  
Who wounds before dare neither give nor take,  
Against them turn your stern eyes threatening sight,  
An angry look will put them all to flight.   

48  
This said, he spurred forth where Soliman  
Destroyed Christ's vineyard like a savage boar,  
Through streams of blood, through dust and dirt, he ran,  
o'er heaps of bodies wallowing in their gore,  
The squadrons close his sword to open began,  
He broke their ranks, behind, beside, before,  
And (where he goes) under his feet he treads  
The armed Sarracines, and barbed steads.   

49  
This slaughter-house of angry Mars he passed,  
Where thousands dead, half dead, and dying wear.  
The hardy sultan saw him come in haste,  
Yet neither stepped aside nor shrunk for fear,  
But buskt him bold to fight, aloft he cast  
His blade, prepared to strike, and stepped near,  
These noble Princes twain (so fortune wrought)  
From the world's ends here met, and here they fought:   

50  
With virtue, fury; strength with courage strove,  
For Asia's mighty empire, who can tell  
With how strange force their cruel blows they drove?  
How sore their combat was, how fierce, how fell?  
Great deeds they wrought, each others harness clove;  
Yet still in darkness (more the ruth) they dwell.  
The night their acts her black vail covered under,  
Their acts whereat the sun, the world might wonder.   

51  
The Christians (by their guide's ensample) hearted,  
Of their best armed made a squadron strong,  
And to defend their chieftain forth they started:  
The Pagans also saved their knight from wrong,  
Fortune her favours twixt them eu'nly parted,  
Fierce was th'encounter, bloody, doubtful, long,  
These won, those lost; these lost, those won again,  
The loss was equal, even the number slain.   

52  
With equal rage as when the Southern wind  
Meeteth in battle strong the Northern blast,  
The sea and air to neither is resinde,  
But cloud 'gainst cloud, and wave 'gainst wave they cast:  
So from this skirmish neither part declined,  
But fought it out, and kept their footings fast,  
And oft with furious shock together rush,  
And shield 'gainst shield, and helm 'gainst helm they crush.   

53  
The battle eke to Zion ward grew hot,  
The soldiers slain the hardy knights were killed,  
Legions of spirits from Limboes' prisons got,  
The empty air the hills and valleys filled,  
Harting the Pagans that they shrinked not,  
Till where they stood their dearest blood they spilled,  
And with new rage, Argantes they inspire,  
Whose heat no flames, whose burning need no fire.   

54  
Where he came in he put to shameful flight  
The fearful watch, and o'er the trenches leapt,  
Even with the ground he made the rampires hight,  
And murdered bodies in the ditch up heaped,  
So that his greedy mates with labour light,  
Amid the tents, a bloody harvest reaped:  
Clorinda went the proud Circassian buy,  
So from a piece two chained bullets fly.   

55  
Now fled the French men, when in lucky hour  
Arrived Guelpho, and his helping band,  
He made them turn against this stormy shower,  
And with bold face their wicked foes withstand.  
Sternly they fought, that from their wounds down power  
The streams of blood, and run on either hand:  
The Lord of heaven meanwhile upon this fight,  
From his high throne bend down his gracious sight.   

56  
From whence, with grace and goodness compassed round,  
He ruleth, blesseth, keepeth all he wrought,  
Above the air, the fire, the sea and ground,  
Our sense, our wit, our reason and our thought,  
Where persons three (with power and glory crowned)  
Are all one God, who made all things of nought,  
Under whose feet (subjecteth to his grace)  
Sat nature, fortune, motion, time and place.   

57  
This is the place, from whence like smoke and dust  
Of this frail world the wealth, the pomp and power,  
He tosseth, tumbleth, turneth as he lust,  
And guides our life, our death, our end and hour:  
No eye (how ever virtuous, pure and just)  
Can view the brightness of that glorious bower,  
On every side the blessed spirits be,  
Equal in joys, though differing in degree.   

58  
With harmony of their celestial song  
The palace echoed from the chambers pure,  
At last he Michael called (in harness strong  
Of never yielding dimonds armed sure)  
Behold (quoth he) to do despite and wrong  
To that dear flock my mercy hath in cure,  
How sathan from hell's loath some prison sends  
His ghosts, his sorites, his furies and his fends.   

59  
Go bid them all depart, and leave the cairo  
Of war to soldiers, as doth best pertain:  
Bid them forbear t'infect the earth and air,  
To darken heavens fair light, bid them refrain;  
Bid them to Acheron's black flood repair,  
Fit house for them, the house of grief and pain,  
There let their king himself and them torment,  
So I command, go tell them mine intent.   

60  
This said, the winged warrior low inclined  
At his creators feet with reverence dew;  
Then spread his golden feathers to the wind,  
And swift as thought away the angel flew,  
He passed the light, and shining fire assigned  
The glorious seat of his selected crew,  
The mover first and circled crystalline,  
The firmament, where fixed stars all shine.   

61  
Unlike in working than, in shape and show,  
At this left hand, Saturn he left and Jove,  
And those untruly errant called I trow,  
Since he errs not, who them doth guide and move:  
The fields he passed then, whence hail and snow,  
Thunder and rain fall down from clouds above,  
Where heat and cold, dryness and moisture strive,  
Whose wars all creatures kill, and slain, revive.   

62  
The horrid darkness and the shadows done  
Dispersed he with his eternal wings,  
The flames (which from his heavenly eyes outrun)  
Beguiled the earth, and all her sable things;  
After a storm so spreadeth forth the sun  
His rays, and binds the clouds in golden strings,  
Or in the stillness of a moonshine even,  
A falling star so glideth down from heaven.   

63  
But when th'infernal troup he proched near,  
That still the Pagans ire and rage provoke,  
The angel on his wings himself did bear,  
And shook his lance, and thus at last he spoke;  
Have you not learned yet to know and fear  
The Lords just wrath, and thunders dreadful stroke?  
Or in the torments of your endless ill,  
Are you still fierce, still proud, rebellious still?   

64  
The Lord hath sworn to break the iron bands  
The brazen gates of zions for't which close,  
Who is it that his sacred will withstands?  
Against his wrath who dares himself oppose?  
Go hence you cursed to your appointed lands,  
The realms of death, of torments, and of woes,  
And in the deeps of that infernal lake  
Your battles fight, and there your triumphs make,   

65  
There tyrannize upon the souls you find  
Condemned to woe, and double still their pains,  
Where some complain, where some their teeth do grind,  
Some howl and weep, some clink their iron chains:  
This said, they fled, and those that stayed behind  
With his sharp lance he driveth and constrains,  
They sighing left the lands, his silver sheep  
Where Hesperus doth lead, doth feed, doth keep,   

66  
And towards hell their lazy wings display,  
To wreak their malice on the damned ghosts,  
The birds that follow Titan's hottest ray,  
Pass not by so great flocks to warmer costs,  
Nor leaves by so great numbers fall away,  
When winter nips them with his newcome frosts,  
The earth (delivered from so foul annoy)  
Recalled her beauty, and resumed her joy.   

67  
But not for this (in fierce Argantes breast)  
lessened the rancour or decayed the ire,  
Although Allecto left him to infest,  
With the hot brands of her infernal fire,  
His armed head with his sharp blade he blest,  
And those thick ranks which seemed most entire  
He broke, the strong, the weak, the high, the low,  
Were equallized by his murdering blow.   

68  
Not far from him, amid the blood and dust,  
Heads, arms, and legs Clorinda strewed wide,  
Her sword through Berengarios breast she thrust,  
Quite through his heart where life doth chief bide,  
And that fell blow she struck so sure and just,  
That at his back his blood and life forth glide,  
Even in the mouth she smote Albinus than,  
And cut in twain the visage of the man;   

69  
Gerniers right hand she from his arm divided,  
Whereof but late she had received a wound,  
The hand his sword still held, although not guided,  
The fingers (half on live) stirted on the ground,  
So from a serpent slain the tail divided  
Moves in the grass, rolleth and tumbleth round.  
The championess so wounded left the knight,  
And 'gainst Achilles turned her weapon bright:   

70  
Upon his neck light that unhappy blow  
And cut the sinews and the throat in twain,  
The head fell down upon the earth below,  
And soiled with dust the visage on the plain;  
The headless trunk (a woeful thing to know)  
Still in the saddle seated did remain,  
Until his stead (that felt the rains at large)  
With leaps and flings that burden did discharge.   

71  
While thus this fair and fierce Bellona slew  
The Western Lords, and put their troops to flight,  
Gildippes' raged 'mongst the Pagan crew,  
And low in dust laid many a worthy knight:  
Like was their sex, their beauty and their hue,  
Like was their youth, their courage and their might;  
Yet fortune would they should the battle try,  
Of mightier foes; for both were framed to die.   

72  
Yet wished they oft, and strove in vain to meet,  
So great betwixt them was the press and throng.  
But hardy Guelpha 'gainst Clorinda sweet  
Ventured his sword, to work her harm and wrong,  
And with a cutting blow so did her greet,  
That from her side the blood streamed down along;  
But with a thrust an answer sharp she made,  
And twixt his ribs coloured somedeal her blade.   

73  
Lord Guelpho struck again, but hit her not,  
For strong Osmida haply passed buy,  
And not meant him, another's wound he got,  
That cloven his front in twain above his eye:  
Near Guelpho now the battle waxed hot,  
For all the troops he led 'gan thither high,  
And thither drew eke many a Painim knight,  
That fierce, stern, bloody, deadly waxed the fight.   

74  
Meanwhile the purple morning peeped over  
The eastren threshold, to our half of land,  
And Argillano in this great uproar  
From prison loosed was, and what he found,  
Those arms he hent, and to the field them bore,  
Resolved to take his chance what came to hand,  
And with great acts amid the Pagan host  
Would win again his reputation lost.   

75  
As a fierce stead scaped from his stall at large,  
Where he had long been kept for warlike need,  
Runs through the fields unto the flowery marge  
Of some green forest, where he used to feed,  
His curled main his shoulders broad doth charge,  
And from his lofty crest doth spring and spreed,  
Thunder his feet, his nostrils fire breath out,  
And with his neie the world resounds about:   

76  
So Argillan rushed forth, sparkled his eyes,  
His front high lifted was, no fear therein,  
Lightly he leaps and skips, it seems he flies,  
He left no sign in dust imprinted thin,  
And coming near his foes, he sternly cries,  
(As one that forced not all their strength a pin,  
You outcasts of the world, you men of nought,  
What hath in you this boldness newly wrought?   

77  
Too weak are you to bear an helm or shield,  
Unfit to arm your breast in iron bright,  
You run half naked, trembling through the field,  
Your blows are feeble and your hope in flight,  
Your facts and all the actions that you wield,  
The darkness hides, your bulwark is the night,  
Now she is gone, how will your fights succeed?  
Now better arms and better hearts you need.   

78  
While thus he spoke he gave a cruel stroke  
Against Algazells throat with might and main,  
And as he would have answered him, and spoke,  
He stopped his words, and cut his jaws in twain;  
Upon his eyes death spread his misty cloak,  
A chilling frost congealed every vain,  
He fell, and with his teeth the earth he tore,  
Raging in death, and full of rage before.   

79  
Then by his puissance mighty Salddine,  
Proud Agricalt and Muleasses died,  
And at one wondrous blow his weapon fine,  
Did Adiazell in two parts divide,  
Then through the breast he wounded Ariadine,  
Whom dying with sharp taunts he 'gan deride,  
He lifting up uneath his feeble eyes,  
To his proud scorns thus answ'reth, ere he dies:   

80  
Not thou (who ere thou art) shall glory long  
Thy happy conquest in my death, I trow,  
Like chance awaits thee from a hand more strong,  
Which by my side will shortly lay thee low:  
He smiled, and said, of mine hour short or long  
Let heaven take care; but here meanwhile die thou,  
Pasture for wolves and crow, on him his fout  
He set, and drew his sword and life both out.   

81  
Among this squadron road a gentle page,  
The sultan's minion, darling and delight,  
On whose fair chin the spring-time of his age  
Yet blossomed out her flowers, small or light;  
The sweat (spread on his cheeks with heat and rage)  
Seemed pearls or morning dews, on lilies white,  
The dust therein uprold, adorned his hair,  
His face seemed fierce and sweet, wrathful and fair.   

82  
His stead was white, and white as purest snow  
That falls on tops of aged Apennine,  
Lightning and storm are not so swift I trow  
As he, to run, to stop, to turn and twine,  
A dart his right hand shaked, priest to throw,  
His curtle-axe by his thigh, short, hooked, fine,  
And braving in his Turkish pomp he shone,  
In purple rob o'er fret with gold and stone.   

83  
The hardy boy (while thirst of warlike praise  
Bewitched so his unadvised thought)  
'Gainst every band his childish strength assays,  
And little danger found, though much he sought,  
Till Argillan (that watched fit time always  
In his swift turns to strike him as he fought)  
Did unawares his snow-white courser slay,  
And under him his master tumbling lay:   

84  
And 'gainst his face (where love and pity stand,  
To pray him that rich throne of beauty spare)  
The cruel man stretched forth his murdering hand,  
To spoil those gifts, whereof he had no share:  
It seemed remorse and sense was in his brand,  
Which lighting flat, to hurt the lad forbore;  
But all for nought, 'gainst him the point he bend,  
That (what the edge had spared) pierced and rend.   

85  
Fierce Soliman, that with Godfredo strived  
Who first should enter conquests glorious gate,  
Left off the fray, and thither headlong drived,  
When first he saw the lad in such estate;  
He broke the press and soon enough arrived  
To take revenge, but to his aid too late,  
Because he saw his Lesbine slain and lost,  
Like a sweet flower nipped with untimely frost:   

86  
He saw wax dim the starlight of his eyes,  
His ivory neck upon his shoulders fell,  
In his pale looks kind pities image lies,  
That death even mourned, to hear his passing bell,  
His marble heart such soft impression tries,  
That midst his wrath, his manly tears outwell,  
Thou weepest Soliman) thou that beheild  
Thy kingdoms lost, and not one tear couldst yield.   

87  
But when the murderers sword he happed to view  
Dropping with blood of his Lesbino dead,  
His pity vanished, ire and rage renew,  
He had no leisure bootless tears to shed;  
But with his blade on Argillano flew,  
And cloven his shield, his helmet, and his head,  
Down to his throat; and worthy was that blow  
Of Soliman, his strength and wrath to show:   

88  
And not content with this, down from his horse  
He light, and that dead carcase rend and tore,  
Like a fierce dog that takes his angry corpse  
To bite the stone, which had him hit before.  
O comfort vain! for grief of so great force,  
To wound the senseless earth, that feels no sore.  
But mighty Godfrey 'gainst the sultan's train  
Spent not (this while) his force and blows in vain.   

89  
A thousand hardy Turks affront he had  
In sturdy iron armed from head to fout,  
Resolved in all adventures good or bad,  
In actions wise, in execution stout,  
Whom Soliman into Arabia lad  
When from his kingdom he was first cast out,  
Where living wild with their exiled guide,  
To him in all extremes they faithful bide;   

90  
All these in thickest order sure unite,  
For Godfrey's valour small or nothing shrank,  
Corcutes first he on the face did smite,  
Then wounded strong Rosteno in the flank,  
At one blow Selim's head he struck off quite,  
Then both Rossanoes arms, in every rank  
The boldest knights (of all that chosen crew)  
He felled; maimed, wounded, hurt and slew.   

91  
While thus he killed many a Sarracine,  
And all their fierce assaults unhurt sustained,  
Ere fortune wholly from the Turks decline,  
While still they hoped much, though small they gained,  
Behold a cloud of dust, wherein doth shine  
Lightning of war, in midst thereof contained,  
Whence unawares burst forth a storm of swords,  
Which tremble made the Pagan knights and Lords.   

92  
These fifty champions were, 'mongst whom there stands  
(In silver field) the ensign of Christ's death,  
If I had mouths and tongues as Briareus hands,  
If voice as iron tough, if iron breath,  
What harm this troup wrought to the heathen bands,  
What knights they slew, I could recount uneath,  
In vain the Turks resist, th'Arabians fly;  
For if they fly, theyare slain; if fight, they die.   

93  
Fear, cruelty, grief, horror, sorrow, pain,  
Run through the field, disguised in divers shapes,  
Death might you see triumphant on the plain,  
Drowning in blood him that from blows escapes.  
The king meanwhile with parcel of his train,  
Comes hastily out, and for sure conquest gapes,  
And from a bank whereon he stood beheild,  
The doubtful hazard of that bloody field.   

94  
But when he saw the Pagans shrink away,  
He sounded the retreat, and 'gan desire  
His messengers in his behalf to pray  
Argantes and Clorinda to retire;  
The furious couple both at once said nay,  
Even drunk with shedding blood, and mad with ire,  
At last they went and to recomfort thought,  
And stay their troops from flight, but all for nought.   

95  
For who can govern cowardice or fear?  
Their host already was begun to fly,  
They cast their shields and cutting swords arrear,  
As not defended, but made slow thereby,  
A hollow dale the cities bulwarks near,  
From west to south out stretched long doth lie,  
Thither they fled, and in a mist of dust,  
Towards the walls they run, they throng, they thrust.   

96  
While down the bank disordered thus they ran,  
The Christian knights huge slaughter on them maid;  
But when to climb the other hill they 'gan,  
Old Aladine came fiercely to their aid:  
On that steep bray Lord Guelpho would not than  
Hazard his folk, but there his soldiers staid,  
And safe within the cities walls the king  
The relics small of that sharp fight did bring:   

97  
Meanwhile the sultan in this latest charge  
Had done as much, as human force was able,  
All sweat and blood appeared his members large,  
His breath was short, his courage waxed unstable,  
His arm grew weak, to bear his mighty targe,  
His hand to rule his heavy sword unable,  
Which bruised, not cut, so blunted was the blade,  
It lost the use for which a sword was made.   

98  
Feeling his weakness, he 'gan musing stand,  
And in his troubled thought this question tossed,  
If he himself should murder with his hand,  
(because none else should of his conquest boast)  
Or he should save his life, when on the land  
Lay slain the pride of his subdued host,  
At last to fortune's power (quoth he) I yield,  
And on my flight let her her trophies beild.   

99  
Let Godfrey view my flight, and smile to see  
This mine unworthy second banishment,  
For armed again soon shall he hear of me,  
From his proud head th'unsettled crown to rent,  
For (as my wrongs) my wrath eterne, shall be,  
And every hour (the bow of war new bend)  
I will arise again, a foe, fierce, bold,  
Though dead, though slain, though burnt to ashes cold.    

The tenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Ismen from sleep awakes the sultan great,  
And into Zion brings the Prince by night,  
Where the sad king sits fearful on his seat,  
Whom he embold'neth and excites to fight:  
Godfredo hears his Lords and knights repeat  
How they escaped Armidaes' wrath and spite:  
Rinaldo known to live, Peter foresaies  
His offsprings virtue good deserts and praiseth.   

1  
A Gallant stead (while thus the sultan said)  
Came trotting by him, without Lord or guide,  
Quickly his hand upon the rains he laid,  
And weak and weary climbed up to ride;  
The snake (that on his crest hot fire out braid,  
Was quite cut off, his helm had lost the pride,  
His coat was rend, his harness hacked and cleft,  
And of his kingly pomp no sign was left.   

2  
As when a savage wolf chased from the fold  
(To hide his head) runs to some holt or wood,  
Who though he filled have while it might hold  
His greedy paunch, yet hungereth after food,  
With sanguine tongue forth of his lips out rolled  
About his jaws that licks up foam and blood;  
So from this bloody fray the sultan hied,  
His rage unquenched, his wrath unsatisfied.   

3  
And (as his fortune would) he scaped free  
From thousand arrows which about him flew,  
From swords and lances, instruments that be  
Of certain death, himself he safe withdrew,  
Unknown, unseen, disguised, travailed he  
By desert paths, and ways but used by few,  
And road revolving in his troubled thought  
What course to take, and yet resolved on nought.   

4  
Thither at last he meant to take his way,  
Where Egypt's king assembled all his host,  
To join with him, and once again assay  
To win by fight, by which so oft he lost:  
Determined thus he made no longer stay,  
But thither ward spurred forth his steed in post,  
Nor need he guide, the way right well he could,  
That leads to sandy plains of Gaza old.   

5  
Nor though his smarting wounds torment him oft,  
His body weak and wounded back and side,  
Yet rested he, nor once his armour doffed,  
But all day long o'er hills and dales doth ride:  
But when the night cast up her shade aloft,  
And all earths colours strange in sables died  
He light, and as he could his wounds upbound,  
And shook ripe dates down from a palm he found.   

6  
On them he supped, and amid the field  
To rest his weary limbs a while he sought,  
He made his pillow of his broken shield,  
To ease the griefs of his distempered thought,  
But little ease could so hard lodging yield,  
His wounds so smarted that he slept right nought,  
And (in his breast) his proud heart rend in twain,  
Two inward vultures, sorrow and disdain.   

7  
At length when midnight with her silence deep  
Did heaven and earth hushed, still and quiet make,  
Sore watched and weary, he began to steep  
His cares and sorrows in oblivions lake,  
And in a little, short, unquiet sleep  
Some small repose his fainting spirits take,  
But (while he slept) a voice grave and severe  
At unawares thus thundered in his ear:   

8  
O Soliman! thou far renowned king  
Till better season serve, forbear thy rest;  
A stranger doth thy lands in thraldom bring,  
Nice is a slave, by Christian yoke oppressed,  
Sleepest thou here, forgetful of this thing,  
That here thy friends lie slain, not laid in chest?  
Whose bones bear witness of thy shame and scorn,  
And wilt thou idly here attend the morn?   

9  
The king awaked, and saw before his eyes  
A man whose presence seemed grave and old,  
A writhe staff his steps unstable gyves,  
Which served his feeble members to uphold,  
And what art thou? (the Prince in scorn replies)  
What spirit to vex poor passengers so bold,  
To break their sleep? or what to thee belongs  
My shame, my loss, my vengeance, or my wrongs?   

10  
I am the man; of thine intent (quoth he)  
And purpose new, that sure conjecture hath,  
And better than thou weenest know I thee,  
I proffer thee my service and my faith,  
My speeches therefore sharp and biting Bee,  
Because quick words the whetstones are of wrath,  
Accept in gree (my Lord) the words I spoke,  
As spurs thine ire and courage to provoke.   

11  
But now to visit Egypt's mighty king,  
Unless my judgement fail you are prepared,  
I prophesy about a needless thing  
You suffer shall a voyage long and hard:  
For though you stay the monarch great will bring  
His new assembled host to Juda ward,  
No place of service there, no cause of fight,  
Nor 'gainst our foes to use your force and might.   

12  
But if you follow me, within this wall  
(With Christian arms hemmed in on every side)  
Withouten battle, fight or stroke at all,  
(even at noon day) I will you safely guide,  
Where you delight, rejoice and glory shall  
In perils great, to see your prowess tried.  
That noble town you may preserve and shield,  
Till Egypt's host come to renew the field.   

13  
While thus he parled of this aged guest,  
The Turk the words and looks did both admire,  
And from his hearty eyes and furious breast  
He laid apart his pride, his rage and ire,  
And humbly said, I willing am and priest  
To follow where thou leadest (reverend fire)  
And that advise best fits my angry vain,  
That tells of greatest peril, greatest pain.   

14  
The old man praised his words, and for the air  
His late received wounds to worse disposes,  
A quintessence therein he powered fair,  
That stops the bleeding, and incision closes:  
Beholding than before Apollo's chair  
How fresh Aurora violets strawed and roses,  
Its time he says to wend, for Titan bright  
To wont labour, summons every wight.   

15  
And to a chariot (that beside did stand)  
Ascended he, and with him Soliman,  
He took the rains, and with a mastering hand  
Ruled his steads and whipped them now and than,  
The wheels or horses feet upon the land  
Had left no sign nor token where they ran,  
The coursers pant and smoke with lukewarm sweat,  
And (foaming cream) their iron mouthfuls eat.   

16  
The air about them round (a wondrous thing)  
Itself on heaps in solid thickness drew,  
The chariot hiding and environing  
The subtle mist no mortal eye could view,  
And yet no stone from engine cast or sling  
Can pierce the cloud, it was of proof so true;  
Yet seen it was to them within which ride,  
And heaven and earth without, all clear beside.   

17  
His beetle brows the Turk amazed bend,  
He wrinkled up his front, and wildly stared  
Upon the cloud and chariot, as it went,  
For speed to Cinthia's car right well compared:  
The other seeing his astonishment  
How he bewondred was, and how he fared,  
All suddenly by name the Prince 'gan call,  
By which awaked thus he spoke withal.   

18  
Who ere thou art above all worldly wit  
That hast these high and wondrous marvels wrought,  
And knowst the deep intents which hidden sit  
In secret closet of man's private thought,  
If in thy skilful heart this lore be writ  
To tell th'event of things to end unbrought;  
Then say, what issue and what end the stars  
Allot to Asia's troubles, broils and wars.   

19  
But tell me first thy name, and by what art  
Thou dost these wonders strange, above our skill;  
For full of marvel is my troubled heart,  
Tell then and leave me not amazed still.  
The wizard smiled and answ'red, in some part  
easy it is to satisfy thy will,  
Ismen I hight, called an enchanter great,  
Such skill have I in magikes secret feat.   

20  
But that I should the sure events unfold  
Of things to come, or destinies foretell,  
Too rash is your desire, your wish too bold,  
To mortal heart such knowledge never fell;  
Our wit and strength on us bestowed I hold,  
To shun th'evils and harms, 'mongst which we dwell,  
They make their fortune who are stout and wise,  
Wit rules the heavens, discretion guides the skies.   

21  
That puissant arm of thine that well can rend  
From Godfrey's brow the new usurped crown,  
And not alone protect, save and defend  
From his fierce people, this besieged town,  
'Gainst fire and sword with strength and courage bend,  
Adventure, suffer, trust, tread perils down,  
And to content and to encourage thee,  
Know this, which I as in a cloud foresee   

22  
I guess (before the over-gliding son  
Shall many years meet out by weeks and days)  
A Prince that shall in fertile Egypt won  
Shall fill all Asia with his prosperous frays;  
I speak not of his acts in quiet done,  
His policy, his rule, his wisdoms praise,  
Let this suffice, by him these Christians shall  
In fight subdued fly, and conquered fall.   

23  
And their great empire and usurped state  
Shall overthrown in dust and ashes lie,  
Their woeful remnant in an angle strate  
Compassed with sea themselves shall fortify,  
From thee shall spring this Lord of war and fate,  
Whereto great Soliman 'gan thus reply;  
O happy man to so great praise ibore,  
Thus he reioised, but yet envied more;   

24  
And said, let chance with good or bad aspect  
Upon me look as sacred heavens decree,  
This heart to her I never will subject,  
Nor ever conquered shall she look on me;  
The moon her chariot shall awry direct,  
Ere from this course I will diverted be,  
While thus he spoke it seemed he breathed fire,  
So fierce his courage was, so hot his ire.   

25  
Thus talked they, till they arrived been  
Nie to the place where Godfrey's tents were reared,  
There was a woeful spectacle iseene,  
Death in a thousand ugly forms appeared,  
The sultan changed hue for grief and teen,  
On that sad book his shame and loss he leared,  
Ah with what grief his men, his friends he found,  
And standards proud, inglorious lie on ground!   

26  
And saw on visage of some well known friend  
(In foul despite) a rascal French man tread,  
And there another ragged peasant rend  
The arms and garments from some champion dead,  
And there with stately pomp by heaps they wend,  
And Christians slain roll up in webs of lead;  
Lastly the Turks and slain Arabians (brought  
On heaps) he saw them burn with fire to nought.   

27  
Deeply he sighed, and with naked sword  
Out of the coach he leapt in the mire,  
But Ismen called again the angry Lord,  
And with grave words appeased his foolish ire.  
The Prince content remounted at his word,  
Towards a hill on drove the aged sire,  
And hasting forward up the bank they pass,  
Till far behind the Christian leaguer was.   

28  
There they alight and took their way on fout,  
The empty chariot vanished out of sight,  
Yet still the cloud environed them about,  
At their left hand down went they from the height  
Of zions hill, till they approached the rout,  
On that side where to west he looketh right,  
There Ismen stayed and his eyesight bend  
Upon the bushy rocks, and thither went.   

29  
A hollow cave was in the craggy stone,  
Wrought out by hand a number years tofore,  
And for of long that way had walked none,  
The vault was hid with plants and bushes hoar,  
The wizard stooping in thereat to gone,  
The thorns aside and scratching brambles bore,  
His right hand sought the passage through the cloven,  
And for his guide he gave the Prince his left.   

30  
What (quoth the sultan) by what privy mine?  
What hidden vault behooves it me to creep?  
This sword can find a better way than thine,  
Although our foes the passage guard and keep.  
Let not (quoth he) thy princely foot repine  
To tread this secret path, though dark and deep;  
For great king Herod used to tread the same,  
He that in arms had whilom so great fame.   

31  
This passage made he, when he would suppress  
His subjects pride, and them in bondage hold;  
By this he could from that small fortress  
Antonia called, of Antony the bold,  
Convey his folk unseen of more and less  
Even to the midst of the temple old,  
Thence, hither; where these privy ways begin,  
And bring unseen whole armies out and in.   

32  
But now save I in all this world lives none  
That knows the secret of this darksome place,  
Come then where Aladine sits on his throne,  
With Lords and princes set about his grace,  
He feareth more than fitteth such an one,  
Such signs of doubt show in his cheer and face;  
Fitly you come, hear, see, and keep you still,  
Till time and season serve, then speak your fill.   

33  
This said, that narrow entrance past the knight,  
(So creeps a camel through a needle's eye)  
And through the ways as black as darkest night  
He followed him, that did him rule and guy;  
Straight was the way at first, withouten light,  
But further in did further amplify;  
So that upright walked at ease the men  
Ere they had passed half that secret den,   

34  
A privy door Ismen unlocked at last,  
And up they climbed a little used stair,  
Thereat the day a feeble beam in cast,  
Dim was the light, and nothing clean the air;  
Out of the hollow cave at length they passed,  
Into a goodly hall, high, broad and fair,  
Where crowned with gold and all in purple clad  
Sat the sadking, among his nobles sad.   

35  
The Turk (close in his hollow cloud imbard)  
Unseen, at will did all the press behold,  
These heavy speeches of the king he hard,  
Who thus from lofty siege his pleasure told;  
My Lords, last day our state was much empard,  
Our friends were slain, killed were our soldiers bold,  
Great helps and greater hopes are us bereft,  
Nor ought but aid from Egypt land is left:   

36  
And well you see far distant is that aid,  
Upon our heels our danger treadeth still,  
For your advise was this assembly maid,  
Each what he thinketh speak, and what he will.  
A whisper soft arose when this was said,  
As gentle winds the groves with murmur fill,  
But with bold face, high looks and merry cheer  
Argantes rose, the rest their talk forbear.   

37  
O worthy sovereign (thus began to say  
The hardy young man to the tyrant wise)  
What words be these? what fears do you dismay?  
Who knows not this, you need not our advise?  
But on our hands your hope of conquest lay,  
And, for no loss true virtue damnifies,  
Make her our shield, pray her us succours give,  
And without her let us not wish to live.   

38  
Nor say I this for that I ought misdeem  
That Egypt's promised succours fail us might,  
Doubtful of my great masters words to seem,  
To me were neither lawful, just, nor right:  
I speak these words, for spurs I them esteem  
To waken up each dull and fearful sprite,  
And make our hearts resolved to all assays,  
To win with honour or to die with praise,   

39  
Thus much Argantes said, and said no more,  
(As if the case were clear of which he spoke.)  
Orcano rose, of princely stemibore,  
Whose presence 'mongst them bore a mighty stroke,  
A man esteemed well in arms of yore;  
But now was coupled new in marriage yoke,  
Young babes he had, to fight which made him loath,  
He was a husband and a father both.   

40  
My Lord (quoth he) I will not reprehend  
The earnest zeal of this audacious speech,  
From courage sprung, which seld is close ipend  
In swelling stomach without violent breach;  
And though to you our good Circassian friend,  
In terms too bold and servant oft doth preach,  
Yet hold I that for good, in warlike feat  
For his great deeds respond his speeches great.   

41  
But if it you beseem (whom graver age  
And long experience hath made wise and sly)  
To rule the heat of youth and hardy rage,  
Which somewhat have misled this knight awry,  
In equal balance ponder than and gauge  
Your hopes far distant, with your perils nigh;  
This towns old walls and rampires new compare,  
With Godfrey's forces, and his engines rare.   

42  
But (if I may say what I think unblamed)  
This town is strong, by nature, scite and art,  
But engines huge and instruments are framed  
'Gainst these defences by our adverse part,  
Who thinks him most secure is eathest shamed;  
I hope the best, yet fear unconstant Mart,  
And with this siege if we be long up penned,  
Famine I doubt, our store will all be spent.   

43  
For all that store of cattle and of grain  
Which yesterday within these walls you brought,  
While your proud foes triumphant through the plain  
On nought but shedding blood, and conquest thought,  
Too little is this city to sustain,  
To raise the siege, unless some means be sought;  
And it must last, till the prefixed hour,  
That it be raised by Egypt's aid and power.   

44  
But what if that appointed day they miss?  
Or else (ere we expect) what if they came?  
The victory yet is not ours for this,  
Oh save this town from ruin, us from shame!  
With that same Godfrey still our watfare is,  
These armies, soldiers, captains are the same,  
Who have so oft amid the dusty plain,  
Turks, Persians, Syrians and Arabians slain:   

45  
And thou Argantes wottest what they be,  
Oft hast thou fled from that victorious host,  
Thy shoulders often hast thou let them see,  
And in thy feet hath been thy safeguard most,  
Clorinda bright and I fled eke with thee,  
None than his fellows had more cause to boast,  
Nor blame I any; for in every fight  
We showed courage, valour, strength and might:   

46  
And though this hardy knight the certain threat  
Of near approaching death to hear disdain;  
Yet to this state of loss and danger great,  
From this strong foe I see the tokens plain;  
No fort how strong so ere by art or seat,  
Can hinder Godfrey why he should not rain:  
This makes me say (to witness heaven I bring)  
Zeal, to this state; love, to my Lord and king.   

47  
The king of Tripoli was well advised  
To purchase peace and so preserve his crown:  
But Soliman (who Godfrey's love despised)  
Is either dead or deep in prison thrown;  
Else fearful is he run away disguised,  
And scant his life is left him for his own,  
And yet with gifts, with tribute and with gold,  
He might in peace his empire still have hold.   

48  
Thus spoke Orcanes, and some inkling gave  
In doubtful words of that he would have said,  
To sue for peace or yield himself a slave,  
He durst not openly his king persuade:  
But at those words the sultan 'gan to rave,  
And 'gainst his will wrapped in the cloud he stayed,  
Whom Ismen thus bespoke, how can you bear  
These words, my Lord? or these reproaches hear?   

49  
Oh let me speak (quoth he) with ire and scorn  
I burn, and 'gainst my will thus hide I stay!  
This said, the smoky cloud was cleft and torn,  
Which like a vail upon them stretched lay,  
And up to open heaven forthwith was borne,  
And left the Prince in view of lightsome day,  
With princely look amid the press he shined,  
And on a sudden, thus declared his mind.   

50  
Of whom you speak behold the sultan here,  
Neither afraid nor run away for dread,  
And that these slanders, lies and fables were,  
This hand shall prove upon that coward's head,  
I, who have shed a sea of blood well near,  
And heaped up mountains high of Christians dead,  
I in their camp who still maintained the fray,  
(My men all murdered) I that run away.   

51  
If this, or any coward vile beside,  
False to his faith and country, dares reply;  
And speak of concord with yond men of pride,  
By your good leave (sir king) here shall he die,  
The lambs and wolves shall in one fold abide,  
The doves and serpents in one nest shall lie,  
Before one town us and these Christians shall  
In peace and love, unite within one wall.   

52  
While thus he spoke, his broad and trenchant sword  
His hand held high aloft, in threatening guise;  
Dumb stood the knights, so dreadful was his word;  
A storm was in his front, fire in his eyes,  
He turned at last to zions aged Lord,  
And calmed his visage stern in humbler wise:  
Behold (quoth he) good Prince, what aid I bring,  
Since Soliman is joined with Judaes' king.   

53  
King Aladine from his rich throne upstart,  
And said, oh how I joy thy face to view,  
My noble friend! it less'neth in some part  
My grief, for slaughter of my subjects true,  
My weak estate to 'stablish come thou art,  
And Mayst thine own again in time renew,  
If heavens consent: with that the sultan bold  
In dear embracements did he long enfold.   

54  
Their greetings done, the king resinde his throne  
To Solman, and set himself beside,  
In a rich seat adorned with gold and stone,  
And Ismen sage did at his elbow bide,  
Of whom he asked what way they two had gone,  
And he declared all what had them betide:  
Clorinda bright to Soliman addressed  
Her salutations first, than all the rest.   

55  
Among them rose Ormusses valiant knight,  
Whom late the sultan with a convoy sent,  
And when most hot and bloody was the fight,  
By secret paths and blind by-ways he went,  
Till aided by the silence and the night  
Safe in the cities walls himself he penned,  
And there refreshed with come and cattle store  
The pined soldiers, famished nigh before.   

56  
With surly countenance and disdainful grace  
Sullen and sad, sat the Circassian stout,  
Like a fierce lion grombling in his place,  
His fiery eyes that turns and rolls about;  
Nor durst Orcanes view the sultan's face,  
But still upon the floor did poor and tout:  
Thus with his Lords and peers in counseling,  
The Turkish monarch sat with Judaes' king.   

57  
Godfrey this while gave victory the rain,  
And following her the straits he opened all;  
Then for his soldiers and his captains slain,  
He celebrates a stately funeral,  
And told his camp within a day or twain  
He would assault the cities mighty wall,  
And all the heathen there enclosed doth threat,  
With fire and sword, with death and danger great.   

58  
And for he had that noble squadron known,  
In the last fight which brought him so great aid,  
To be the Lords and Princes of his own,  
Who followed late the sly enticing maid,  
And with them Tancred (who had late been thrown  
In prison deep, by that false witch betrayed)  
Before the hermit and some private friends,  
For all those worthies, Lords and knights, he sends;   

59  
And thus he said, some one of you declare  
Your fortunes, whether good or to be blamed,  
And to assist us with your valours rare,  
(In so great need) how was your coming framed?  
They blush and on the ground amazed stare,  
(For virtue is of little guilt ashamed)  
At last the English Prince with countenance bold,  
The silence broke, and thus their errors told:   

60  
We (not elect to that exploit by lot)  
With secret flight from hence ourselves withdrew,  
Following false Cupid, I deny it not,  
Enticed forth by love, and beauties hue,  
A jealous fire burnt in our stomachs hot,  
And by close ways we passed least in view,  
Her words, her looks (alas I know too late)  
Nursed our love, our jealousy, our hate.   

61  
At last we 'gan approach that woeful clime,  
Where fire and brimstone down from heaven was sent,  
To take revenge for sin and shameful crime  
'Gainst kind commit, by those who nould repent;  
A loathsome lake of brimstone, pitch and lime,  
Oregoes that land, erst sweet and redolent,  
And when it moves, thence stinch and smoke up flies,  
Which dim the welkin, and infect the skies.   

62  
This is the lake in which yet never might  
Ought that hath weight sink to the bottom down,  
But like to cork, to leaves or feathers light,  
Stones, iron, men there fleet, and never drown,  
Therein a castle stands, to which by sight  
But o'er a narrow bridge no way is known,  
Hither us brought, here welcomed us the witch,  
The house within was stately, pleasant, rich.   

63  
The heavens were clear, and wholesome was the air,  
High trees, sweet meadows, waters pure and good;  
For there in thickest shade of myrtles fair  
A crystal spring poured out a silver flood;  
Amid the herbs, the grass and flowers rare,  
The falling leaves down pattred from the wood;  
The birds sung hymns of love, yet speak I nought  
Of gold and marble rich, and richly wrought.   

64  
Under the curtain of the greenewood shade,  
Beside the brook, upon the velvet grass,  
In massy vessel of pure silver made,  
A banquet rich and costly furnished was,  
All beasts, all birds beguiled by fowler's trade,  
All fish were there in floods or seas that pass,  
All dainties made by art, and at the table  
An hundredth virgins served, for husband's able.   

65  
She with sweet words and false enticing smiles,  
Infused love among the dainties set,  
And with empoys'ned cups our souls beguiles,  
And made each knight himself, and God forget:  
She rose, and turned again within short while,  
With changed looks where wrath and anger met,  
A charming rod, a book with her she brings,  
On which she mumbled strange and secret things.   

66  
She red, and change I felt my will and thought,  
I longed to change my life, and place of biding,  
That virtue strange in me no pleasure wrought,  
I leapt into the flood myself there hiding,  
My legs and feet both into one were brought,  
Mine arms and hands into my shoulders sliding,  
My skin was full of scales, like shields of bras,  
Now made a fish, where late a knight I was.   

67  
The rest with me like shape, like garments wore,  
And diu'de with me in that quicksilver stream,  
Such mind (to my remembrance) than I bore,  
As when on vain and foolish things men dream;  
At last our shape it pleased her to restore,  
Then full of wonder and of fear we seam,  
And with an ireful look the angry maid  
Thus threatened us, and made us thus afraid.   

68  
You see (quoth she) my sacred might and skill,  
How you are subject to my rule and power,  
In endless thraldom damned if I will,  
I can torment and keep you in this tower,  
Or make you birds, or trees on craggy hill,  
To bide the bitter blasts of storm and shower;  
Or harden you to rocks on mountains old,  
Or melt your flesh and bones to rivers cold:   

69  
Yet may you well avoid mine ire and wraith,  
If to my will your yielding hearts you bend,  
You must forsake your Christendom and faith,  
And 'gainst Godfredo false my crown defend.  
We all refused, for speedy death each prai'th,  
Save false Rambaldo, he became her friend,  
We in a dungeon deep were helpless cast,  
In misery and iron chained fast.   

70  
Then (for alone they say falls no mishap)  
Within short while Prince Tancred thither came,  
And was unwares, surprised in the trap:  
But there short while we stayed, the wily dame  
In other folds our mischiefs would upwrap.  
From Hidraort an hundredth horsemen came,  
Whose guide a Baron bold to Egypt's king  
Should us disarmed, and bound in fetters, bring:   

71  
Now on our way the way to death we ride,  
But providence divine thus for us wrought,  
Rinaldo (whose high virtue is his guide  
To great exploits, exceeding human thought)  
Met us, and all at once our guard defied,  
And ere he left the fight to earth them brought,  
And in their harness armed us in the place,  
Which late were ours, before our late disgrace.   

72  
I, and all these, the hardy champion knew,  
We saw his valour, and his voice we hard;  
Then is the rumour of his death untrue,  
His life is safe, good fortune long it guard,  
Three times the golden sun hath risen new,  
Since us he left and road to Antioch ward;  
But first his armours broken, hacked and cleft,  
Unfit for service there he doffed and left.   

73  
Thus spoke the Briton prince, with humble cheer  
The Hermit sage to heaven cast up his eine,  
His colour and his countenance changed wear,  
With heavenly grace his looks and visage shine,  
Ravished with zeal his soul approached near  
The seat of angels pure, and saints divine,  
And there he learned of things and haps to come  
To give foreknowledge true, and certain doom;   

74  
At last he spoke (in more than human sound)  
And told what things his wisdom great foresaw,  
And at his thundering voice the folk around  
Attentive stood, with trembling and with awe:  
Rinaldo lives, he said, the tokens found  
From women's craft their false beginnings draw,  
He lives and heaven will long preserve his days,  
To greater glory, and to greater praise.   

75  
These are but trifles yet, though Asia's kings  
Shrink at his name and tremble at his view,  
I well foresee he shall do greater things,  
And wicked emperors conquer and subdue;  
Under the shadow of his eagle's wings,  
Shall holy church preserve her sacred crew,  
From Caesar's bird he shall the sable train  
Pluck off, and break her talons sharp in twain.   

76  
His children's children at his hardiness,  
And great attempts shall take ensample fair,  
From emperors unjust in all distress  
They shall defend the state of Peter's chair,  
To raise the humble up, pride to suppress,  
To help the innocents shall be their cairo.  
This bird of East, shall fly with conquest great,  
As far as moon gives light, or sun gives heat;   

77  
Her eyes behold the truth and purest light,  
And thunders down in Peter's aid she brings,  
And where for Christ and christian faith men fight,  
There forth she spreadeth her victorious wings,  
This virtue Nature gives her and this might,  
Then lure her home, for on her presence hangs  
The happy end of this great enterpries,  
So heaven decrees, and so command the skies.   

78  
These words of his, of Prince Rinaldoes' death  
Out of their troubled hearts, the fear had razed;  
In all this joy yet Godfrey smiled uneath,  
In his wise thought such care and heed was placed.  
But now from deeps of regions underneath  
Night's vail arose, and suns bright lustre chased,  
When all full sweetly in their cabins slept,  
Save he, whose thoughts his eyes still open kept.    

The eleventh book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

With grave procession, songs and psalms devout  
Heavens sacred aid the Christian Lords invoke;  
That done, they sole the wall which kept them out;  
The fort is almost won, the gates nigh broke:  
Godfrey is wounded by Clorinda stout,  
And lost is that days conquest by the stroke;  
The angel cures him, he returns to fight,  
But lost his labour for day lost his light.   

1  
THe Christian armies great and puissant guide,  
T'assault the town that all his thoughts had bend,  
Did ladders, rams, and engines huge provide,  
When reverent Peter to him gravely went,  
And drawing him with sober grace aside,  
With words severe thus told his high intent;  
Right well (my Lord) these earthly strengths you move,  
But let us first begin from heaven above:   

2  
With public prayer, zeal, and faith devout,  
The aid, assistance, and the help obtain  
Of all the blessed of the heavenly root,  
With whose support you conquest sure may gain;  
First let the priests before thine armies stout,  
With sacred hymns their holy voices strain,  
And thou and all thy Lords and peers with thee,  
Of godliness and faith ensamples be.   

3  
Thus spoke the hermit grave in words severe:  
Godfrey allowed his counsel, sage and wise,  
Of Christ the Lord (quoth he) thou servant dear,  
I yield to follow thy divine advise,  
And while the Princes I assemble hear,  
The great procession, songs and sacrifice,  
With Bishop William, thou and Ademare,  
With sacred and with solemn pomp, prepare.   

4  
Next morn the Bishops twain, the eremite,  
And all the clarks and priests of less estate,  
Did in the midst of the camp unite  
Within a place for prayer consecrate,  
Each priest adorned was in a surplice white,  
The Bishops donned their albes and copes of state,  
Above their rockets buttoned fair before,  
And mitres on their heads, like crowns they wore.   

5  
Peter alone (before) spread to the wind  
The glorious sign of our salvation great,  
With easy pace the choir come all behind,  
And hymns and psalms in order true repeat,  
With sweet respondence in harmonious kind  
Their humble song the yielding air doth beat;  
Lastly together went the reverend pare  
Of prelate's sage, William and Ademare:   

6  
The mighty Duke came next, as Princes do,  
Without companion, marching all alone,  
The Lords and captains came by two and two,  
The soldiers for their guard were armed each one;  
With easy pace thus ordered, passing throw  
The trench and rampire, to the fields they gone,  
No thundering drum, no trumpet shrill they heat,  
Their godly music psalms and prayers wear.   

7  
To thee, O Father, son and sacred sprite,  
One true, eternal, everlasting king,  
To Christ's dear mother marry virgin bright,  
Psalms of thanks giving and of praise they sing,  
To them that angels down from heaven to fight  
'Gainst the blasphemous beast and dragon bring,  
To him also that of our saviour good,  
Washed the sacred front in Iordans flood.   

8  
Him likewise they invoke, called the rock  
Whereon the Lord (they say) his Church did rear,  
Whose true successors close or else unlock  
The blessed gates of grace and mercy dear,  
And all th'elected twelve the chosen flock,  
Of his triumphant death who witness bear,  
And them by torment, slaughter, fire and sword  
Who martyrs died, to confirm his word:   

9  
And them also whose books and writings tell  
What certain path to heavenly bliss us leads,  
And hermits good, and ancresses that dwell,  
Mewed up in walls and mumble on their beads,  
And virgin nuns in close and private cell,  
Where (but shrift fathers) never mankind treads,  
On these they called and on all the rout  
Of angels, martyrs, and of saints devout.   

10  
Singing and saying thus the camp devout  
Spread forth her zealous squadrons broad and wide,  
Towards mount Olivet went all this rout,  
So called of olive trees the hill which hide,  
A mountain known by fame the world throughout,  
Which riseth on the cities eastren side,  
From it divided by the valley green  
Of Josaphat, that fills the space between.   

11  
Hither the armies went, and chanted shrill,  
That all the deep and hollow dales resound,  
From hollow mounts and caves in every hill,  
A thousand echoes also sung around,  
It seemed some choir (that sung with art and skill)  
Dwelled in those savage dens and shady ground,  
For oft resounded from the banks they hear,  
The name of Christ and of his mother dear.   

12  
Upon the walls the Pagans old and young  
Stood hushed and still, amated and amazed,  
At their grave order and their humble song,  
At their strange pomp and customs new they gazed:  
But when the show they had beholden long,  
An hideous yell the wicked miscreants razed,  
That with vile blasphemies the mountains hoar,  
The woods, the waters and the valleys roar.   

13  
But yet with sacred notes the hosts proceed,  
Though blasphemies they hear and cursed things;  
So with Apollo's harp Pan tunes his reed,  
So adders hiss, where Philomela sings,  
Nor flying darts nor stones the Christians dread,  
Nor arrows shot, nor quarries cast from flings;  
But with assured faith as dreading nought  
The holy work begun to end they brought.   

14  
A table set they on the mountains hight  
To minister thereon the Sacrament,  
In golden candlesticks a hallowed light,  
At either end of virgin wax there brent:  
In costly vestments sacred William dight,  
With fear and trembling to the altar went,  
And prayer there and service loud begins,  
Both for his own and all the armies sins;   

15  
Humbly they heard his words that stood him nigh,  
The rest far off upon him bend their eyes,  
But when he ended had the service hie,  
You servants of the Lord depart he cries:  
His hands he lifted than up to the sky,  
And blessed all those warlike companies;  
And they dismissed returned the way they came,  
Their order as before, their pomp the same.   

16  
Within their camp arrived, this voyage ended,  
Towards his tent the Duke himself withdrew,  
Upon their guide by heaps the bands attended,  
Till his pavilions stately door they view,  
There to the Lord his welfare they commended,  
And with him left the worthies of the crew,  
Whom at a costly and rich feast he placed,  
And with the highest room old Raimond graced.   

17  
Now when the hungry knights sufficed are  
With meat, with drink, with spices of the best,  
Quoth he, when next you see the morning star,  
Tassault the town be ready all and priest:  
Tomorrow is a day of pains and war,  
This of repose, of quiet, peace and rest;  
Go, take your ease this evening, and this night,  
And make you strong against tomorrow fight.   

18  
They took their leave, and Godfrey's heralds road  
To intimate his will on every side,  
And published it through all the lodgings broad,  
That 'gainst the morn each should himself provide,  
Meanwhile they might their hearts of cares unload,  
And rest their tired limbs that evening tide;  
Thus fared they till night their eyes did close,  
Night friend to gentle rest and sweet repose.   

19  
With little sign as yet of springing day  
Out peeped, not well appeared the rising morn,  
The plough yet tore not up the fertile lay,  
Nor to their feed the sheep from folds return,  
The birds sat silent on the green wood spray  
Amid the groves, unheard was hound and horn,  
When trumpets shrill true signs of hardy fights,  
Called up to arms the soldiers, called the knights:   

20  
Arm, arm at once an hundredth squadrons cried,  
And with their cry to arm them all begin,  
Godfrey arose, that day he laid aside  
His hawberke strong he wonts to combat in,  
And donned a breastplate fair, of proof untride,  
Such one as footmen use, light, easy, thin:  
Scantly their Lord thus clothed had his grooms,  
When aged Raimond to his presence comes,   

21  
And furnished thus when he the man beheild,  
By his attire his secret thought he guest,  
Where is (quoth he) your sure and trusty shield?  
Your helm, your hawberke strong? where all the rest?  
Why be you half disarmed? why to the field  
Approach you in these weak defences dressed?  
I see this day you mean a course to run,  
Wherein may peril much, small praise be won.   

22  
Alas, do you that idle praise expect,  
To set first foot this conquered wall above?  
Of less account some knight thereto object,  
Whose loss so great and harmful cannot prove,  
My Lord, your life with greater care protect,  
And love yourself because all us you love,  
Your happy life is spirit, soul and breath  
Of all this camp, preserve it than from death.   

23  
To this he answered thus, you know (he fade)  
In Clarimont by mighty urbans hand  
When I was girded with this noble blade,  
For Christ's true faith to fight in every land,  
To God even than a secret vow I made,  
Not as a captain here this day to stand,  
And give directions, but with shield and sword  
To fight, to win or die for Christ my Lord.   

24  
When all this camp in battle strong shall be  
Ordained and ordered, well disposed all,  
And all things done which to the high degree  
And sacred place I hold, belongen shall;  
Then reason is it, nor dissuade thou me,  
That I likewise assault this sacred wall,  
Lest from my vow to God late made I swerver,  
He shall this life defend, keep and preserve.   

25  
Thus he concludes, and every hardy knight  
His sample followed, and his brethren twain,  
The other Princes put on harness light,  
As footmen use: but all the Pagan train  
Towards that side bent their defensive might,  
That lies exposed to view of Charles wain,  
And Zephyrus sweet blasts, for on that part  
The town was weakest, both by scite and art.   

26  
On all parts else the fort was strong by scite,  
With mighty hills defenst from foreign rage,  
And to this part the tyrant 'gan unite,  
His subjects borne and bands that serve for wage,  
From this exploit he spared nor great nor light,  
The aged men and boys of tender age,  
To fire of angry war, still brought new fuel,  
Stones, darts, lime, brimstone and bitumen cruel.   

27  
All full of arms and weapons was the wall,  
Under whose basis that fair plain doth run,  
There stood the sultan like a giant tall,  
(So stood at Rhodes the Coloss of the son)  
Wast high Argantes show'd himself withal,  
At whose stern looks the French to quake begun,  
Clorinda on the corner tower alone,  
In silver arms like rising Cynthia shone.   

28  
Her rattling quiver at her shoulders hung,  
Therein a flash of arrows feathered we'll,  
In her left hand her bow was bended strong,  
Therein a shaft headed with mortal steel,  
So fit to shoot she singled forth among  
Her foes, who first her quarries strength should feel,  
So fit to shoot Latona's daughter stood,  
When Niobe she killed and all her brood.   

29  
The aged tyrant trotted on his feet  
From gate to gate, from wall to wall he flew,  
He comforts all his bands with speeches sweet,  
And every fort and bastion doth revew,  
For every need prepared in every street  
New regiments he placed, and weapons new.  
The matron's grave within their temples high,  
To idols false for succours call and cry;   

30  
O Macon, break in twain the steeled lance  
Of wicked Godfrey, with thy righteous hands,  
Against thy name he doth his arm advance,  
His rebel blood power out upon these sands,  
These cries within his ears no entrance  
Can find; for nought he hears, nought understands.  
While thus the town for her defence ordains,  
His armies Godfrey ordereth on the plains,   

31  
His forces first on foot he forward brought,  
With goodly order, providence and art,  
And 'gainst these towers which t'assail he thought,  
In battles twain his strength he doth departed,  
Between them crossbows stood and engines wrought  
To cast a stone, a quarry or a dart,  
From whence like thunder's dint or lightnings new,  
Against the bulwarks stones and lances flew.   

32  
His men at arms did back his bands on fout,  
The light horse ride far off and serve for wings,  
He gave the sign, so mighty was the rout  
Of those that shot with bows and cast with slings,  
Such storms of shafts and stones flew all about,  
That many a Pagan proud to death it brings,  
Some died, some at the loops durst scant outpeepe,  
Some fled and left the place they took to keep.   

33  
The hardy Frenchmen (full of heat and haste)  
Ran boldly forward to the ditches large,  
And o'er their heads an iron pentise vast  
They built, by joining many a shield and targe,  
Some with their engines ceaseless shot and cast,  
And volleys huge of arrows sharp discharge,  
Upon the ditches some employed their pain,  
To fill the mote and even it with the plain.   

34  
With slime or mud the ditches were not soft,  
But dry and sandy, void of waters clear,  
Though large and deep the Christians fill them oft,  
With rubbish, faggots, stones and trees they bear:  
Adrastus first advanced his crest aloft,  
And boldly 'gan a strong scalado rear,  
And through the falling storm did upward climb  
Of stones, darts, arrows, fire, pitch and lime:   

35  
The hardy Swisser now so far was gone,  
That half way up with much pain he got,  
A thousand weapons he sustained alone,  
And his audacious climbing ceased not;  
At last upon him fell a mighty stone,  
As from some engine great it had been shot,  
It broke his helm, he tumbled from the height,  
The strong Circassian cast that wondrous weight;   

36  
Not mortal was the blow, yet with the fall  
On earth sore bruised the man lay in a swoon.  
Argantes 'gan with boasting words to call,  
Who cometh next? this first is tumbled down,  
Come hardy soldiers, come assault this wall,  
I will not shrink, nor fly, nor hide my crown,  
If in your trench yourselves for dread you hold,  
There shall you die, like sheep killed in their fold.   

37  
Thus boasted he, but in their trenches deep  
The hidden squadrons kept themselves from scathe,  
The curtain made of shields did well off keep  
Both darts and shot, and scorned all their wrath.  
But now the ram upon the rampires steep  
On mighty beams his head advanced hath,  
With dreadful horns of iron taught tree-great,  
The walls and bulwarks trembled at his threat.   

38  
An hundred able men meanwhile let fall  
The weights behind, the engine tumbled down,  
And battered flat the battlements and wall,  
(So fell Taigerus hill on Sparta town)  
It crushed the steeled shield in pieces small,  
And beat the helmet to the wearers crown,  
And on the ruins of the walls and stones,  
Dispersed left their blood, their brains, and bones.   

39  
The fierce assailants kept no longer close  
Under the shelter of their targets fine,  
But their bold fronts to chance of war expose,  
And 'gainst those towers let their virtue shine,  
The scaling ladders up to skies arose,  
The groundworks deep some closely undermine,  
The walls before the Frenchmen shrink and shake,  
And gaping sign of headlong falling make:   

40  
And fallen they had, so far the strength extends  
Of that fierce ram and his redoubted stroke,  
But that the Pagans care the place defends,  
And saved by warlike skill the wall nigh broke:  
For to what part so ere the engine bends,  
There sacks of wool they place the blow to choke,  
Whose yielding breaks the strokes thereon which light,  
So weakness oft subdues the greatest might.   

41  
While thus the worthies of the Western crew  
Maintained their brave assault and skirmish hot,  
Her mighty bow Clorinda often drew,  
And many a sharp and deadly arrow shot;  
And from her bow no steeled shaft there flew,  
But that some blood the cursed engine got,  
Blood of some valiant knight or man of fame,  
For that proud shootresse scorned weaker game.   

42  
The first she hit among the Christian peers,  
Was the bold son of England's noble king,  
Above the trench himself he scantly rears,  
But she an arrow loosed from the string,  
The wicked steel his gantled breaks and tears,  
And through his right hand thrust the piercing sting;  
Disabled thus from fight, he 'gan retire,  
Groaning for pain, but fretting more forire.   

43  
Lord Stephen of Amboise on the ditches brim,  
And on a ladder high, Clotharious died,  
From back to breast an arrow pierced him,  
The other was shot through from side to side:  
Then as he managed brave his courser trim  
On his left arm she hit the Flemings guide,  
He stopped, and from the wound the reed out twined,  
But left the iron in his flesh behind.   

44  
As Ademare stood to behold the fight  
High on abanke, withdrawn to breath a space,  
A fatal shaft upon his forehead light,  
His hand he lifted up to feel the place,  
Whereon a second arrow chanced right,  
And nailed his hand unto his wounded face,  
He fell, and with his blood distained the land,  
His holy blood shed by a virgin's hand.   

45  
While Palamede stood near the battlement,  
Despising perils all and all mishap,  
And upward still his hardy footings bend,  
On his right eye he caught a deadly clap,  
Through his right eye Clorindaes' seu'nth shaft went,  
And in his neck broke forth a bloody gap;  
He underneath that bulwark dying fell,  
Which late to scale and win he trusted well.   

46  
Thus shot the maid: the Duke with hard assay  
And sharp assault, meanwhile the town oppressed,  
Against that part which to his camp ward lay,  
An engine huge and wondrous he addressed,  
A tower of wood built for the towns decay,  
As high as were the walls and bulwarks best,  
A turret full of men and weapons penned,  
And yet on wheels it rolled, moved and went.   

47  
This rolling fort his nigh approaches made,  
And darts and arrows spit against his foes,  
As ships are wont in fight; so it assade  
With the strong wall to grapple and to close:  
The Pagans on each side the piece invade,  
And all their force against this mass oppose,  
Sometimes the wheels, sometimes the battlement  
With timber, logs and stones, they broke and rend.   

48  
So thick flew stones and darts, that no man sees  
The azure heavens, the sun his brightness lost,  
The clouds of weapons, like two swarms of bees,  
Met in the air, and there each other crossed:  
And look how falling leaves drop down from trees,  
When the moist sap is nipped with timely frost,  
Or apples in strong winds from branches fall;  
The Saracines so tumbled from the wall.   

49  
For on their part the greatest slaughter light,  
They had no shelter 'gainst so sharp a shower,  
Some left on live betook themselves to flight,  
So feared they this deadly thundering tower:  
But Soliman staid like a valiant knight,  
And some with him, that trusted in his power,  
Argantes with a long beach tree in hand,  
Ran thither, this huge engine to withstand:   

50  
With this he pushed the tower and back it drives  
The length of all his tree, a wondrous way,  
The hardy virgin by his side arrives,  
To help Argantes in this hard assay:  
The band that used the ram, this season strives  
To cut the cords, wherein the woolpacks lay,  
Which done, the sacks down in the trenches fall,  
And to the battery naked left the wall.   

51  
The tower above, the ram beneath doth thunder,  
What lime and stone such puissance could abide?  
The wall began (now bruised and crushed asunder)  
Her wounded lap to open broad and wide,  
Godfrey himself and his brought safely under  
The shattered wall, where greatest breach he spied,  
Himself he saves behind his mighty targe,  
A shield not used but in some desperate charge.   

52  
From hence he sees where Soliman descends  
Down to the threshold of the gaping breach,  
And there it seems the mighty Prince intends  
Godfredoes hoped entrance to impeach:  
Argantes (and with him the maid) defends  
The walls above, to which the tower doth reach,  
His noble heart, when Godfrey this beheld,  
With courage new, with wrath and valour swelled.   

53  
He turned about and to good Sigiere spoke,  
Who bore his greatest shield and mighty bow,  
That sure and trusty target let me take,  
Impenetrable is that shield I know,  
Over these ruins will I passage make,  
And enter first, the way is each and low,  
And time requires that by some noble feat  
I should make known my strength and puissance great:   

54  
He scant had spoken, scant received the targe,  
When on his leg a sudden shaft him hit,  
And through that part a hole made wide and large,  
Where his strong sinews fastened were and knit.  
Clorinda, thou this arrow didst discharge,  
And let the Pagans bless thy hand for it,  
For by that shot thou savedst them that day  
From bondage vile, from death and sure decay.   

55  
The wounded Duke, as though he felt no pain,  
Still forward went, and mounted up the breach,  
His high attempt at first he nould refrain,  
And after called his Lords with cheerful speech;  
But when his leg could not his weight sustain,  
He saw his will did far his power out reach,  
And more he strove his grief increased the more,  
The bold assault he left at length therefore:   

56  
And with his hand he beckoned Guelpho near,  
And said, I must withdraw me to my tent,  
My place and person in mine absence bear,  
Supply my want, let not the fight relent,  
I go and will ere long again be hear,  
I go and strait return, this said, he went,  
On a light stead he leapt, and o'er the green  
He road, but road not (as he thought) unseen.   

57  
When Godfrey parted, parted eke the heart,  
The strength and fortune of the Christian bands,  
Courage increased in their adverse part,  
Wrath in their hearts and vigour in their hands:  
Valour, success, strength, hardiness, and art  
Failed in the Princes of the Western lands,  
Their swords were blunt, faint was their trumpets blast,  
Their sun was set, or else with clouds o'ercast.   

58  
Upon the bulwarks now appeared bold  
That fearful band that late for dread was fled;  
The women that Clorindaes' strength behold,  
Their country's love to war encouraged,  
They weapons got and fight like men they would,  
Their gowns tucked up, their locks were lose and spread,  
Sharp darts they cast, and without dread or fear  
Exposed their breasts to save their fortress dear.   

59  
But that which most dismayed the christian knights,  
And added courage to the Pagans most,  
Was Guelphos sudden fall, in all men's sights  
Who tumbled headlong down, his footing lost,  
A mighty stone upon the worthy lights,  
But whence it came none witted, nor from what coast;  
And with like blow, which more their hearts dismayed,  
Beside him low in dust old Raimond laid:   

60  
And Eustace eke within the ditches large,  
To narrow shifts and last extremes they drive,  
Upon their foes so fierce the Pagans charge,  
And with good fortune so their blows they give,  
That whom they hit, in spite of helm or targe,  
They deeply wound, or else of life deprive.  
At this their good success Argantes proud,  
Waxing more fell, thus roared and cried loud:   

61  
This is not Antioch, nor the evening dark,  
Can help your privy sleights with friendly shade,  
The sun yet shines, your falsehood can we mark,  
In other wise this bold assault is made,  
Of praise and glory quenched is the spark  
That made you first these Eastern lands invade,  
Why cease you now? why take you not this fort?  
What are you weary for a charge so short?   

62  
Thus raged he, and in such hellish sort  
Increased the fury in the brainsick knight,  
That he esteemed that large and ample fort  
To straight a field, wherein to prove his might,  
There where the breach had framed a new made port,  
Himself he placed, with nimble skips and light,  
He cleared the passage out, and thus he cried  
To Soliman, that fought close by his side:   

63  
Come Soliman, the time and place behold,  
That of our valours well may judge the doubt,  
What stayest thou? among these Christians bold,  
First leap he forth that holds himself most stout:  
While thus his will the mighty champion told,  
Both Soliman and he, at once leapt out,  
Fury the first provoked, disdain the last,  
Who scorned the challenge ere his lips it past.   

64  
Upon their foes unlooked for they flew,  
Each spited other for his virtues sake,  
So many soldiers this fierce couple slew,  
So many shields they cleft and helms they broke,  
So many ladders to the earth they threw,  
That well they seemed a mount thereof to make,  
Or else some vamure fit to save the town,  
In stead of that the Christians late bet down.   

65  
The folk that strove with rage and haste before  
Who first the wall and rampire should ascend,  
Retire, and for that honour strive no more,  
Scantly they could their limbs and lives defend,  
They fled, their engines lost the Pagans tore  
In pieces small, their rams to nought they rend,  
And all unfit for further service make,  
With so great force and rage's their beams they broke.   

66  
The Pagans ran transported with their ire,  
Now here now there, and woeful slaughters wrought,  
At last they called for devouring fire,  
Two burning pines against the tower they brought,  
So from the palace of their hellish Sire  
(When all this world they would consume to nought)  
The fury sisters come with fire in hands,  
Shaking their snaky locks and sparkling brands.   

67  
But noble Tancred, who this while applied  
Grave exhortations to his bold Latins,  
When of these knights the wondrous acts he spied,  
And saw the champions with their burning pines,  
He left his talk and thither forthwith hied,  
To stop the rage of those fell Saracines,  
And with such force the fight he there renewed,  
That now they fled and lost, who late pursued.   

68  
Thus changed the state and fortune of the fray,  
Meanwhile the wounded Duke in grief and teen,  
Within his great pavilion rich and gay,  
Good Sigiere and Baldwine stood between;  
His other friends whom his mishap dismay,  
With grief and tears about assembled been,  
He strove in haste the weapon out to wind:  
And broke the reed, but left the head behind.   

69  
He bod them take the speediest way they might,  
Of that unlucky hurt to make him sound,  
And to lay open the depth thereof to sight,  
He willed them open, search and lance the wound,  
Send me again (quoth he) to end this fight,  
Before the sun be sunken under ground,  
And leaning on a broken spear, he thrust  
His leg strait out, to him that cure it must.   

70  
Erotimus, borne on the banks of Poe,  
Was he that undertook to cure the knight,  
All what green herbs or waters pure could do,  
He knew their power, their virtue and their might,  
A noble poet was the man also;  
But in this silence had a more delight,  
He could restore to health death wounded men,  
And make their names immortal with his pen.   

71  
The mighty Duke yet never changed cheer,  
But grieved to see his friends lamenting stand;  
The leech prepared his clothes and cleansing gear,  
And with a belt his gown about him band,  
Now with his herbs the steely head to tear  
Out of the flesh he proved, now with his hand,  
Now with his hand, now with his instrument  
He shaked and plucked it, yet not forth it went;   

72  
His labour vain, his art prevailed nought,  
His luck was ill, although his skill were good,  
To such extremes the wounded Prince he brought,  
That with fell pain he swooned as he stood:  
But th'angel pure (that kept him) went and sought  
Divine Dictamnum, out of Ida wood,  
This herb is rough and bears a purple flower,  
And in his budding leaves lies all his power.   

73  
Kind nature first upon the craggy cleft  
Bewrayed this herb unto the mountain goat,  
That when her sides a cruel shaft hath rift,  
With it she shakes the reed out of her cote,  
This in a moment fetched the angel swift,  
And brought from Ida hill, though far remote,  
The ruice whereof in a prepared bath  
Unseen the blessed spirit powered hath:   

74  
Pure Nectar from that spring of Lydia than,  
And Panaces divine therein he threw,  
The cunning leech to bathe the wound began,  
And of itself the steely head out flew,  
The bleeding staunched, no vermile drop outran,  
The leg again waxed strong with vigour new:  
Erotimus cried out, this hurt and wound  
No human art, or hand so soon makes sound;   

75  
Some angel good I think come down from skies  
Thy surgeon is, for here plain tokens are  
Of grace divine, which to thy help applies,  
Thy weapon take and haste again to war;  
In precious clothes his leg the chieftain ties,  
Nought could the man from blood and fight debar,  
A sturdy lance in his right hand he braced,  
His shield he took, and on his helmet laced:   

76  
And with a thousand knights and Barons bold,  
Towards the town he hasted from his camp,  
In clouds of dust was Titan's face enrolled,  
Trembled the earth whereon the worthies stamp,  
His foes far off his dreadful looks behold,  
Which in their hearts of courage quenched the lamp,  
A chilling fear ran cold through every vain,  
Lord Godfrey shouted thrice and all his train:   

77  
Their sovereigns' voice his hardy people knew,  
And his loud cries, that cheered each fearful heart,  
Thereat new strength they took and courage new,  
And to the fierce assault again they start.  
The Pagans twain this while themselves withdrew  
Within the breach, to save that battered part,  
And with great loss a skirmish hot they hold,  
Against Tancredie and his squadron bold.   

78  
Thither came Godfrey armed round about  
In trusty plate, with fierce and dreadful look,  
At first approach against Argantes stout  
Headed with poignant steel a lance he shook,  
No casting engine with such force throws out  
A knotty spear, and as the way it took,  
It whistled in the air, the fearless knight  
Opposed his shield against that weapons might,   

79  
The dreadful blow quite through his target drove,  
And bored through his breastplate strong and thick,  
The tender skin it in his bosom rove,  
The purple blood outstreamed from the quick,  
To wrest it out the wounded Pagan strove,  
And little leisure gave it there to stick;  
At Godfrey's head the lance again he cast,  
And said, lo there again thy dart thou hast:   

80  
The spear flew back the way it lately came,  
And would revenge the harm itself had done,  
But missed the mark whereat the man did ame,  
He stepped aside the furious blow to shun:  
But Sigiere in his throat received the same,  
The murdering weapon at his neck outrun,  
Nor ought it grieved the man to lose his breath,  
Since in his Prince's stead he suffered death.   

81  
Even then the soldan struck with monstrous main  
The noble leader of the Norman band,  
He reeled a while and staggered with the pain,  
And wheeling round fell groveling on the sand:  
Godfrey no longer could the grief sustain  
Of these displeasures, but with flaming brand,  
Up to the breach in heat and hast he goes,  
And hand to hand there combats with his foes,   

82  
And there great wonders surely wrought he had,  
Mortal the fight, and fierce had been the fray,  
But that dark night, from her pavilion sad,  
Her cloudy wings did on the earth display,  
Her quiet shades she interposed glad,  
To cause the knights their arms aside to lay;  
Godfrey withdrew, and to their tents they wend,  
And thus this bloody day was brought to end.   

83  
The weak and wounded ere he left the field  
The godly Duke to safety thence conveyed,  
Nor to his foes his engines would he yield,  
In them his hope to win the fortress laid;  
Then to the tower he went, and it beheild,  
The tower that late the Pagan Lords dismayed,  
But now stood bruised, broken, cracked and shivered,  
From some sharp storm as it were late delivered,   

84  
From dangers great escaped but late it was,  
And now to safety brought welnie it seams,  
But as a ship that under sail doth pass  
The roaring billows and the raging streams,  
And drawing nigh the wished port (alas)  
Breaks on some hidden rock her ribs and beams;  
Or as a stead rough ways that well hath past,  
Before his inn stumbleth, and falls at last:   

85  
Such hap befell that tower for on that side  
'Gainst which the pagan's force and battery bend,  
Two wheels were broke whereon the piece should ride,  
The maimed engine could no further wend,  
The troop that guarded it that part provide  
To underprop, with posts, and it defend,  
Till carpenters and cunning workmen came,  
Whose skill should help and rear again the same.   

86  
Thus Godfrey bids, and that ere springing day  
The cracks and bruises all amend they should,  
Each open passage and each privy way  
About the piece, he kept with soldiers bold:  
But the loud rumour both of that they say,  
And that they do, is heard within the hold,  
A thousand lights about the tower they view,  
And what they wrought all night both saw and knew.    

The twelfth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Clorinda hears her Eunuch old report  
Her birth, her of spring, and her native land;  
Disguised she fireth Godfrey's rolling fort,  
The burned piece falls smoking on the sand:  
With Tancred long unknown in desperate sort  
She fights, and falls through pierced with his brand:  
Christened she dies; with sighs, with plaints, and tears,  
He wails her death; Argant revengement swears.   

1  
NOw in dark night was all the world imbard;  
But yet the tired armies took no rest,  
The careful French keptheedfull watch and ward,  
While their high tower the workmen newly dressed,  
The Pagan crew to reinforce prepared  
The weakened bulwarks, late to earth down kest,  
Their rampires broke and bruised walls to mend,  
Lastly their hurts the wounded knights attend.   

2  
Their wounds were dressed; part of the work was brought  
To wished end, part left to other days,  
A dull desire to rest deep midnight wrought,  
His heavy rod sleep on their eyelids lays:  
Yet rested not Clorindaes' working thought,  
Which thirsted still for fame and warlike praise,  
Argantes eke accompanied the maid,  
From place to place, which to herself thus said:   

3  
This day Argantes strong and Soliman  
Strange things have done, and purchased great renown,  
Among our foes out of the walls they ran,  
Their rams they broke and rend their engines down;  
Ivsed my bow, of nought else boast I can,  
Myself stood safe meanwhile within this town,  
And happy was my shot and prosperous too,  
But that was all a woman's hand could do.   

4  
On birds and beasts in forests wild that feed,  
It were more fit mine arrows to bestow,  
Than for a feeble maid in warlike deed,  
With strong and hardy knights herself to show,  
Why take I not again my virgin's weed?  
And spend my days in secret cell vnknow?  
Thus thought, thus mused, thus devised the maid,  
And turning to the knight, at last thus said:   

5  
My thoughts are full (my Lord) of strange desire,  
Some high attempt of war to undertake,  
Whether high God my mind therewith inspire,  
Or of his will his God mankind doth make,  
Among our foes behold the light and fire,  
I will among them wend and burn or broke  
The tower, God grant therein I have my will,  
And that performed, betid me good or ill.   

6  
But if it fortune such my chance should be,  
That to this town I never turn again,  
Mine Eunuch (whom I dearly love) with thee  
I leave, my faithful maids, and all my train,  
To Egypt then conducted safely see  
Those woeful damsels, and that aged swain,  
Help them (my Lord) in that distressed case,  
Their feeble sex, his age deserveth grace.   

7  
Argantes wondering stood, and felt th'effect  
Of true renown pierce through his glorious mind,  
And wilt thou go (quoth he) and me neglect,  
Disgrased, despised, leave in this fort behind?  
Shall I while these strong walls my life protect,  
Behold thy flames and fires tossed in the wind,  
No, no, thy fellow have I been in arms,  
And will be still, in praise, in death, in harms:   

8  
This heart of mine deaths bitter stroke despiseth,  
For praise this life, for glory take this breath,  
My soul the more (quoth she) thy friendship prizeth,  
For this thy proffered aid required uneath,  
I but a woman am, no loss ariseth  
To this besieged city by my death,  
But if (as Gods forbidden) this night thou fall,  
Ah who shall then, who can, defend this wall?   

9  
Too late these scuces vain (the knight replied)  
You bring, my will is firm, my mind is set,  
I follow you where so you list me guide,  
Or go before if you my purpose let.  
This said, they hasted to the palace wide  
About their prince where all his Lords were met,  
Clorinda spoke for both, and said, sir king,  
Attend my words, hear, and allow the thing.   

10  
Argantes here this bold and hardy knight,  
Will undertake to burn the wondrous tower,  
And I with him, only we stay till night  
Bury in sleep our foes at deadest hour.  
The king with that cast up his hands on height,  
The tears for joy upon his cheeks down power,  
Praised (quoth he) be Macon whom we serve,  
This land I see he keeps and will preserve:   

11  
Nor shall so soon this shaken kingdom fall,  
While such unconquered hearts my state defend:  
But for this act what praise or guerdon shall  
I give your virtues, which so far extend?  
Let fame your praises sound through nations all,  
And fill the world therewith to either end,  
Take half my wealth and kingdom for your meed?  
You are rewarded half even with the deed.   

12  
Thus spoke the Prince, and gently 'gan distrain  
Now him, now her, between his friendly arms:  
The sultan by, no longer could refrain  
That noble envy which his bosom warms,  
Nor I (quoth he) bear this broad sword in vain,  
Nor yet unexpert am in night alarms,  
Take me with you: ah (quoth Clorinda) no!  
Whom leave we here of prowess if you go?   

13  
This spoken, ready with a proud refuse  
Argantes was his proffered aid to scorn,  
Whom Aladine prevents, and with excuse  
To Soliman thus 'gan his speeches torn:  
Right noble Prince, as aye hath been your use,  
Yourself so still you bear and long have borne,  
Bold in all acts, no danger can affright  
Your heart, nor tired is your strength with fight.   

14  
If you went forth great things perform you would,  
In my conceit yet far unfit it seams,  
That you (who most excel in courage bold)  
At once should leave this town in these extremes,  
Nor would I that these twain should leave this sold,  
My heart their noble lives far worthier deames,  
If this attempt of less importance wear,  
Or weaker posts so great a weight could bear.   

15  
But for well guarded is the mighty tower  
With hardy troops and squadrons round about,  
And cannot harmed be with little power,  
Nor fits the time to send whole armies out,  
This pair, who passed have many a dreadful stowre,  
And proffer now to prove this venture stout,  
Alone to this attempt let them go forth,  
Alone then thousands of more price and worth.   

16  
Thou (as it best beseems a mighty king)  
With ready bands beside the gate attend,  
That when this couple have performed the thing,  
And shall again their footsteps homeward bend,  
From their strong foes upon them following  
Thou Mayst them keep, preserve, save and defend:  
Thus said the king, the sultan must consent,  
Silent remained the Turk, and discontent.   

17  
Then Ismen said, you twain that undertake  
This hard attempt, a while I pray you stay,  
Till I a wildfire of fine temper make,  
That this great engine burn to ashes may;  
Haply the guard that now doth watch and wake,  
Will then lie tumbled sleeping on the lay;  
Thus they conclude, and in their chambers sit,  
To wait the time for this adventure fit.   

18  
Clorinda there her silver arms off rend  
Her helm, her shield, her hawberke shining bright,  
An armour black as jet or coal she hent,  
Wherein withouten plume herself she dight;  
For thus disguised amid her foes she meant  
To pass unseen, by help of friendly night,  
To whom her Eunuch old Arsetes came,  
That from her cradle nursed and kept the Dame.   

19  
This aged fire had followed far and near  
(Through lands and seas) the strong and hardy maid,  
He saw her leave her arms and wont gear,  
Her danger nigh that sudden change foresaid:  
By his white locks from black that changed wear  
In following her, the woeful man her prayed,  
By all his service and his taken pain,  
To leave that fond attempt, but prayed in vain.   

20  
At last (quoth he) since hardened to thine ill,  
Thy cruel heart is to thy loss prepared,  
That my weak age, nor tears that down distill,  
Nor humble suit, nor plaint, thou list regard;  
Attend a while, strange things unfold I will,  
Hear both thy birth and high estate declared;  
Fellow my counsel or thy will, that done,  
She fit to hear, the Eunuch thus begun:   

21  
Senapus ruled, and yet perchance doth rain  
In mighty Ethiope and her deserts waste,  
The lore of Christ both he and all his train  
Of people black, hath kept and long embraced,  
To him a Pagan was I sold for gain,  
And with his Queen (as her chief Eunuch) placed;  
Black was this Queen as jet, yet on her eyes  
Sweet loveliness (in black attired) lies.   

22  
The fire of love and frost of jealousy  
Her husband's troubled soul alike torment,  
The tide of fond suspicion flowed high,  
The foe to love and plague to sweet content,  
He mewed her up from sight of mortal eye,  
Nor day he would his beams on her had bend:  
She (wise and lowly) by her husband's pleasure,  
Her joy, her peace, her will, her wish did measure.   

23  
Her prison was a chamber, painted round  
With goodly purtraites and with stories old,  
As white as snow there stood a virgin bound,  
Besides a dragon fierce, a champion bold  
The monster did with poignant spear through wound,  
The gored beast lay dead upon the mould;  
The gentle Queen before this image laid,  
She plained, she mourned, she wept, she sighed, she prayed:   

24  
At last with child she proved, and forth she brought  
(And thou art she) a daughter fair and bright,  
In her thy colour white new terror wrought,  
She wondered on thy face with strange affright,  
But yet she purposed in her fearful thought  
To hide thee from the king thy father's sight,  
Lest thy bright hue should his suspect approve,  
For seld a crow begets a silver dove.   

25  
And to her spouse to show she was disposed  
A Negrose babe, late borne, in room of thee,  
And for the tower wherein she lay enclosed,  
Was with her damsels only word and me,  
To me, on whose true faith she most reposed,  
She gave thee, ere thou couldst christened be,  
Nor could I since find means thee to baptize,  
In Pagan lands thou knowst it's not the guise.   

26  
To me she gave thee, and she wept withal,  
To foster thee in some far distant place,  
Who can her griefs and plaints to reckoning call,  
How oft she swooned at the last embrace?  
Her streaming tears amid her kisses fall,  
Her sighs, her dire complaints did interlace:  
And looking up at last, O God (quoth she)  
Who dost my heart and inward mourning see,   

27  
If mind and body spotless to this day,  
If I have kept my bed still undefiled,  
(Not for myself a sinful wretch I pray,  
That in thy presence am an abject wild)  
Preserve this babe, whose mother must denay  
To nourish it, preserve this harmless child,  
Oh let it live, and chaste like me it make,  
But for good fortune elsewhere sample take.   

28  
Thou heavenly soldier which delivered haste  
That sacred virgin from the serpent old,  
If on thine Altars I have offerings placed,  
And sacrificed myrrh, Frankinscence and gold,  
On this poor child thy heavenly looks down cast,  
With gracious eye this seely babe behold,  
This said, her strength and living spirit was fled,  
She sighed, she groaned, she swooned in her bed.   

29  
Weeping I took thee, in a little chest,  
Covered with herbs and leaves, I brought thee out  
So secretly, that none of all the rest  
Of such an act suspicion had or doubt,  
To wilderness my steps I first addressed,  
Where horrid shades enclosed me round about,  
A tigress there I met, in whose fierce eyes  
Fury and wrath, rage, death and terror lies:   

30  
Up to a tree I leapt, and on the grass  
(Such was my sudden fear) I left thee lying,  
To thee the beast with furious course did pass,  
With curious looks upon thy visage prying,  
All suddenly both meek and mild she was,  
With friendly cheer thy tender body eyeing,  
At last she licked thee, and with gesture mild  
About thee played, and thou upon her smiled.   

31  
Her fearful muzlefull of dreadful threat  
In thy weak hand thou took'st withouten dread,  
The gentle beast with milk out stretched teat;  
(As nurse's custom) proffered thee to feed,  
As one that wondereth on some marvel great,  
I stood this while amazed at the deed,  
When thee she saw well filled and satisfied  
Unto the woods again the tigress hied.   

32  
She gone, down from the tree I came in haste,  
And took thee up and on my journey wend,  
Within a little thorpe I stayed at last,  
And to a nurse the charge of thee commend,  
And sporting with thee there long time I passed  
Till term of sixteen months were brought to end,  
And thou begun (as little children do)  
With half clipped words to prattle, and to go.   

33  
But having past the August of mine age,  
When more than half my tap of life was run,  
Rich by rewards given by your mother sage  
For merits past, and service yet undone,  
I longed to leave this wandering pilgrimage,  
And in my native soil again to won,  
To get some silly home I had desire,  
Loath still to warm me at another's fire:   

34  
To Egypt ward (where I was borne) I went,  
And bore thee with me, by a rolling flood  
Till I with savage thieves well nigh was hent,  
Before, the brook; the thieves, behind me stood:  
Thee to forsake I never could consent,  
And gladly would I scape those outlaws wood,  
Into the flood I leapt far from the brim,  
My left hand bore thee, with the right I swim.   

35  
Swift was the currant, in the middle stream  
A whirlpool gaped with devouring jaws,  
The gulf (on such mishap ere I could dream)  
Into his deep abyss my carcase draws,  
There I forsook thee, the wild waters seam  
To pity thee, a gentle wind there blows,  
Whose friendly puffs safe to the shore thee drive,  
Where wet and weary I at last arrive:   

36  
I took thee up and in my dream that night  
(When buried was the world in sleep and shade)  
I saw a champion clad in armour bright,  
That o'er my head shaked a flaming bald,  
He said I charge thee execute aright  
That charge this enfants mother on thee laid,  
baptize the child, high heaven esteems her dear,  
And I her keeper will attend her near:   

37  
I will her keep, defend, save and protect,  
I made the waters mild, the tigress tame,  
O wretch that heavenly warnings dost reject!  
The warrior vanished having said the same.  
Irose and iournayd on my way direct,  
When blushing morn Tithonus' bed forth came,  
But for my faith is true and sure I ween,  
And dreams are false, you still unchristened been.   

38  
A Pagan therefore thee I fostered have,  
Nor of thy birth the truth did ever tell,  
Since you increased are in courage brave,  
Your sex and nature's self you both excel,  
Full many a realm have you made bond and slave,  
Your fortunes last yourself remember well,  
And how in peace and war, in joy and teen,  
I have your servant, and your tutor been.   

39  
Last morn, from skies eric stars exiled wear,  
In deep and deathlike sleep my senses drowned,  
The self-same vision did again appear,  
With stormy wrathful looks, and thundering sound,  
Villain (quoth he) within short while thy dear  
Must change her life, and leave this sinful ground,  
Thine be the loss, the torment and the cairo,  
This said, he fled through skies, through clouds & air.   

40  
Hear then my joy, my hope, my darling, hear  
High heaven some dire misfortune threatened hath,  
Displeased perdie, because I did thee leer  
A lore, repugnant to thy parent's faith;  
Ah, for my sake, this bold attempt forbear;  
Put off these sable arms, appease thy wrath.  
This said, he wept, she pensive stood and sad,  
Because like dream herself but lately had.   

41  
With cheerful smile she answered him at last,  
I will this faith observe, it seems me true,  
Which from my cradle age thou taught me haste;  
I will not change it for religion new,  
Nor with vain shows of fear and dread aghast,  
This enterprise forbear I to pursue,  
No, not if death in his most dreadful face  
Wherewith he scareth mankind, kept the place.   

42  
Approach 'gan the time (while thus she spoke)  
Wherein they ought that dreadful hazard try,  
She to Argantes went, who should partake  
Of her renown and praise, or with her die.  
Ismen with words more hasty still did make  
Their virtue great, which by itself did fly,  
Two balls he gave them made of hollow bras,  
Wherein enclosed fire, pitch and brimstone was.   

43  
And forth they went, and over dale and hill  
They hasted forward with a speedy pace,  
Unseen, unmarked, undeseride, until  
Beside the engine close themselves they place,  
New courage there their swelling hearts did fill,  
Rage in their breasts, fury shone in their face,  
They earned to blow the fire, and draw the sword,  
The watch descried them both, and gave the word.   

44  
Silent they passed on, the watch begun  
To rear a huge alarm with hideous cries,  
Therewith the hardy couple forward run  
To execute their valiant enterpries;  
So from a cannon or a roaring gone  
At once the noise, the flame and bullet flies,  
They run, they give the charge, begin the fray,  
And all at once their foes break, spoil and slay.   

45  
They passed first through thousand thousand blows,  
And then performed their designment bold,  
A fiery ball each on the engine throws,  
The stuff was dry, the fire took quickly hold,  
Furious upon the timber work it grows,  
How it increased cannot well be told,  
How it crept up the piece, and how to skies  
The burning sparks, and towering smoke up-flies.   

46  
A mass of solid fire burning bright  
Rolled up in smouldering fumes there bursteth out,  
And there the blustering winds add strength and might,  
And gather close the sparsed flames about:  
The Frenchmen trembled at the dreadful light,  
To arms in haste and fear ran all the rout,  
Down fell the piece dreaded so much in war,  
Thus, what long days doth make, one hour doth mar.   

47  
Two christian bands, this while came to the place  
With speedy haste, where they beheld the fire,  
Argantes to them cried, with scornful grace,  
Your blood shall quench these flames and quench mine ire:  
This said, the maid and he with sober pace  
Drew back, and to the bank themselves retire,  
Faster than brooks which falling showers increase,  
Their foes augment, and faster on them press.   

48  
The guilden port was opened, and forth stepped  
With all his soldiers bold, the Turkish king,  
Ready to aid them two his force he kept,  
When Fortune should them home with conquest bring,  
Over the bars the hardy couple leapt,  
And after them a band of Christians fling,  
Whom Soliman drove back with courage stout,  
And shut the gate but shut Clorinda out.   

49  
Alone was she shut forth, for in that hour  
Wherein they closed the port, the virgin went  
And full of heat and wrath, her strength and power  
Gaint Arimon (that stroke her erst) she bent,  
She slew the knight, nor Argant in that stowre  
Witted of her parting, or her fierce intent,  
The fight, the press, the night and darksome skies,  
Care from his heart had ta'en, sight from his eyes.   

50  
But when appeased was her angry mood,  
Her fury calmed, and settled was her head,  
She saw the gates were shut, and how she stood  
Amid her foes, she held herself for dead;  
While none her marked, at last she thought it good  
To save her life some other path to tread,  
She feigned her one of them, and close her drew  
Amid the press that none her saw nor knew:   

51  
Then as a wolf guilty of some misdeed  
Flies to some grove to hide himself from view,  
So favoured with the night, with secret speed  
Disseured from the press the damsel flew:  
Tancred alone of her escape took heed,  
He on that quarter was artived new,  
When Arimon she killed, he thither came,  
He saw it, marked it, and pursued the dame,   

52  
He deemed she was some man of much might,  
And on her person would he worship win,  
Over the hills the nymph her journey dight  
Towards another port, there to get in:  
With hideous noise fast after spurred the knight,  
She heard and staid, and thus her words begin,  
What haste hast thou? ride softly, take thy breath,  
What bringest thou? he answered, war and death.   

53  
And war and death (quoth she) here Mayst thou get  
If thou for battle come, with that she stayed:  
Tancred to ground his foot in haste down set,  
And left his stead, on foot he saw the maid,  
Their courage hot, their ire and wrath they whet,  
And either champion drew a trenchant blaid,  
Together ran they, and together stroke,  
Like two fierce bulls, whom rage and love provoke.   

54  
Worthy of royal lists and brightest day,  
Worthy a golden trump and laurel crown,  
The actions were and wonders of that fray,  
Which sable night did in dark bosom drown:  
Yet night, consent that I their acts display,  
And make their deeds to future ages known,  
And in records of long enduring story,  
enrol their praise, their fame, their worth & glory.   

55  
They neither shrunk, nor vantage sought of ground,  
They traversed not, nor skipped from part to part,  
Their blows were neither false nor feigned found,  
The night, their rage, would let them use no art,  
Their swords together clash with dreadful sound,  
Their feet stand fast, and neither stir nor start,  
They move their hands, steadfast their feet remain,  
Nor blow nor foin they stroke or thrust in vain.   

56  
Shame bred desire a sharp revenge to take,  
And vengeance taken gave new cause of shame:  
So that with haste and little heed they struck,  
Fuel enough they had to feed the flame,  
At last so close their battle fierce they make,  
They could not wield their swords, so nigh they came,  
They used the hilts, and each on other rushed,  
And helm to helm, and shield to shield they crushed.   

57  
Thrice his strong arms he folds about her waste,  
And thrice was forced to let the virgin go,  
For she disdained to be so embraced,  
No lover would have strained his mistress so:  
They took their swords again, and each enchaste  
Deep wounds in the soft flesh of his strong foe,  
Till weak and weary, faint, alive uneath,  
They both retired at once at once took breath;   

58  
Each other long beheild, and leaning stood  
Upon their swords, whose points in earth were pight,  
When day break rising from the Eastren flood  
Put forth the thousand eyes of blindfold night,  
Tancred beheild his foes out streaming blood,  
And gaping wounds, and waxed proud with the sight,  
O vanity of man's unstable mind,  
Puffed up with every blast of friendly wind!   

95  
Why ioi'st thou wretch? O what shall be thy gain?  
What trophy for this conquest be't, thou rears?  
Thine eyes shall shed (in case thou be not slain)  
For every drop of blood a sea of tears:  
The bleeding warriors leaning thus remain,  
Each one to speak one world long time forbears,  
Tancred the silence broke at last, and said,  
(For he would know with whom this fight he maid:)   

60  
Evil is our chance, and hard our fortune is,  
Who here in silence and in shade debate,  
Where light of sun and witness all we mis,  
That should our prowess and our praise dilate:  
If words in arms find place, yet grant me this,  
Tell me thy name, thy country and estate,  
That I may know (this dangerous combat done)  
Whom I have conquered, or who hath me won.   

61  
What I nill tell, you ask (quoth she) in vain,  
Nor moved by prayer, nor constrained by power,  
But thus much know, I am one of those twain  
Which late with kindled fire destroyed the tower.  
Tancred at her proud words swelled with disdain,  
That hast thou said (quoth he) in evil hour,  
Thy vaunting speeches, and thy silence both,  
(uncivil wretch) hath made my heart more wroth.   

62  
Ire in their chafed breasts renewed the fray,  
Fierce was the fight, though feeble were their might,  
Their strength was gone, their cunning was away,  
And fury in their stead maintained the fight,  
Their swords both points and edges sharp embay  
In purple blood, where so they hit or light,  
And if weak life yet in their bosoms lie,  
They lived because they both disdained to die.   

63  
As egeans' seas when storms be calmed again,  
That rolled their tumbling waves with troublous blasts,  
Do yet of tempests past some shows retain  
And here and there their swelling billows casts;  
So, though their strength were gone, and might were vain,  
Of their first fierceness still the fury lasts,  
Wherewith sustained, they to their tackling stood,  
And heaped wound on wound, and blood on blood.   

64  
But now alas, the fatal hour arrives,  
That her sweet life must leave that tender hold,  
His sword into her bosom deep he drives,  
And bathed in lukewarm blood his iron cold,  
Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives  
Her curious square, embossed with swelling gold,  
Her knees grow weak, the pains of death she feels,  
And like a falling Cedar bends and reels.   

65  
The Prince his hand upon her shield doth stretch,  
And low on earth the wounded damsel laith,  
And while she fell, with weak and woeful speech,  
Her prayers last, and last complaints she saith,  
A spirit new did her those prayers teach,  
Spirit of hope, of charity, and faith;  
And though her life to Christ rebellious wear,  
Yet died she his child and handmaid dear.   

66  
Friend thou hast won, I pardon thee, nor save  
This body, that all torments can endure,  
But save my soul, baptism I dying crave,  
Come wash away my sins with waters pure:  
His heart relenting nigh insunder rave,  
With woeful speech of that sweet creature,  
So that his rage, his wrath and anger died,  
And on his cheeks salt tears for ruth down slide.   

67  
With murmur loud down from the mountains side  
A little runnell tumbled near the place,  
Thither he ran and filled his helmet wide,  
And quick returned to do that work of grace,  
With trembling hands her beaver he untied,  
Which done he saw, and seeing, knew her face,  
And lost therewith his speech and moving quite,  
O woeful knowledge, ah unhappy sight!   

68  
He died not, but all his strength unites,  
And to his virtues gave his heart in guard,  
Bridling his grief, with water he requites  
The life, that he bereft with iron hard;  
And while the sacred words the knight recites,  
The nymph to heaven with joy herself prepared;  
And as her life decay, her joys increase,  
She smiled and said, farewell, I die in peace.   

69  
As Violets blue 'mongst lilies pure men throw,  
So paleness midst her native white begun.  
Her looks to heaven she cast, their eyes I trow  
Downward for pity bend both heaven and sun,  
Her naked hand she gave the knight, in show  
Of love and peace, her speech (alas) was done,  
And thus the virgin fell on endless sleep,  
Love, beauty, virtue, for your darling weep.   

70  
But when he saw her gentle soul was went,  
His manly courage to relent began,  
Grief, sorrow, anguish, sadness, discontent,  
Free empire got, and lordship on the man,  
His life within his heart they close up penned,  
Death through his senses and his visage ran:  
Like his dead Lady, dead seemed Tancred good,  
In paleness, stillness, wounds and streams of blood.   

71  
And his weak spirit (to be unbodied  
From fleshly prison free that ceaseless strived)  
Had followed her fair soul but lately fled,  
Had not a Christian squadron there arrived,  
To seek fresh water thither haply led,  
And found the Princess dead, and him deprived  
Of signs of life, yet did the knight remain  
On live, nigh dead, for her himself had slain.   

72  
Their guide far off the Prince knew by his shield,  
And thither hasted full of grief and fear,  
Her dead, him seeming so, he there beheld,  
And for that strange mishap shed many a tear;  
He would not leave the corpses fair in field  
For food to wolves, though she a Pagan wear,  
But in their arms the soldiers both uphent,  
And both lamenting brought to Tancred's tent:   

73  
With those dear burdens to their camp they pass,  
Yet would not that dead seeming knight awake,  
At last he deeply groaned, which token was  
His feeble soul had not her flight yet take:  
The other lay a still and heavy mass,  
Her spirit had that earthen cage forsake,  
Thus were they brought, and thus they placed wear  
In sundry rooms, yet both adjoining near.   

74  
All skill and art his careful servants used  
To life again their dying Lord to bring,  
At last his eyes unclosed, with tears suffused,  
He felt their hands and heard their whispering,  
But how he thither came long time he mused,  
His mind astonished was with every thing;  
He gazed about, his squites in fine he knew,  
Then weak and woeful thus his plaints our threw:   

75  
What live I yet? and do I breath and see  
Of this accursed day the hateful light?  
This spiteful ray which still upbraideth me  
With that accursed deed, I did this night,  
Ah coward hand! Afraid why shouldst thou be?  
(Thou instrument of death, shame and despite)  
Why shouldst thou fear, with sharp & trenchant knife,  
To cut the thread of this blood-guiltie life?   

76  
Pierce through this bosom, and my cruel heart  
In pieces cleave, break every string and vain;  
But thou to slaughters vile which used art,  
Thinkest it were pity so to ease my pain:  
Of luckless love therefore in torments smart,  
A sad example must I still remain,  
A woeful monster of unhappy love,  
Who still must live, least death his comfort prove:   

77  
Still must I live in anguish, grief and cairo,  
Furies my guilty conscience that torment,  
The ugly shades, dark night, and troubled air  
In grisly forms her slaughter still present,  
Madness and death about my bed repair,  
Hell gapeth wide to swallow up this tent;  
Swift from myself I run, myself I fear,  
Yet still my hell within myself I bear:   

78  
But where (alas) where be those relics sweet,  
Wherein dwelled late all love, all joy, all good?  
My fury left them cast in open street,  
Some beast hath torn her flesh and licked her blood,  
Ah noble prey! for savage beast unmeet,  
Ah sweet! too sweet, and far too precious food,  
Ah silly Nymph! whom night and darksome shade  
To beasts, and me (far worse than beasts) betrade.   

79  
But where you be, if still you be, I wend  
To gather up those relics dear at least,  
But if some beast hath from the hills descend,  
And on her tender bowels made his feast,  
Let that self monster me in pieces rend,  
And deep entomb me in his hollow chest:  
For where she buried is, there shall I have  
A stately tomb, a rich and costly grave.   

80  
Thus mourned the knight, his squires him told at last,  
They had her there for whom those tears he shed;  
A beam of comfort his dim eyes out cast,  
Like lightning through thick clouds of darkness spread,  
The heavy burden of his limbs in haste  
With much pain, he drew forth of his bed,  
And scant of strength to stand, to move or go,  
Thither he staggered, reeling to and fro:   

81  
When he came there, and in her breast espied  
(His handiwork) that deep and cruel wound,  
And her sweet face with leaden paleness died,  
Where beauty late spread forth her beams around,  
He trembled so, that near his squires beside  
To hold him up, he had sunk down to ground,  
And said, O face in death still sweet and fair!  
Thou canst not sweeten yet my grief and cairo:   

82  
O fair right hand, the pledge of faith and love!  
Given me but late, too late, in sign of peace,  
How haps it now thou canst not stir nor move?  
And you dear limbs now laid in rest and ease,  
Through which my cruel blade this floodgate rove,  
Your pains have end, my torments never cease,  
O hands! O cruel eyes accursed alike!  
You gave the wound, you gave them light to strike.   

83  
But thither now run forth my guilty blood,  
Wither my plaints, my sorrows cannot wend,  
He said no more, but, as his passion wood  
Enforced him, he 'gan to tear and rend  
His hair, his face, his wounds, a purple flood  
Did from each side in rolling streams descend,  
He had been slain, but that his pain and woe  
Bereft his senses, and preserved him so.   

84  
Cast on his bed his squires recalled his sprite,  
To execute again her hateful charge,  
But tattling fame the sorrows of the knight,  
And hard mischance had told this while at large:  
Godfrey and all his Lords of worth and might,  
Ran thither, and the duty would discharge  
Of friendship true, and with sweet words the rage  
Of bitter grief and woe, they would assuage.   

85  
But as a mortal wound the more doth smart  
The more it searched is, handled or sought;  
So their sweet words to his afflicted heart  
More grief, more anguish, pain and torment brought:  
But reverend Peter that nould set apart  
Care of his sheep, as a good shepherd ought,  
His vanity with grave advise reproved,  
And told what mourning Christian knights behoved:   

86  
O Tancred, Tancred, how far different  
From thy beginnings good these follies be?  
What makes thee deaf? what hath thy eyesight blended?  
What mist, what cloud thus overshadeth thee?  
This is a warning good from heaven down sent,  
(Yet his advise thou canst not hear nor see)  
Who calleth and conducts thee to the way,  
From which thou willing dost and witting stray:   

87  
To worthy actions and atchivements fit  
For Christian knights, he would thee home recall;  
But thou hast left that course and changed it,  
To make thyself a heathen damsels thrall;  
But see, thy grief and sorrows painful fit  
Is made the rod to scourge thy sins withal,  
Of thine own good thyself the means he makes,  
But thou his mercy, goodness, grace forsakes.   

88  
Thou dost refuse of heaven the profred grace,  
And 'gainst it still rebel with sinful ire,  
O wretch! O whither doth thy rage thee chase?  
Refrain thy grief, bridle thy fond desire,  
At hell's wide gate vain sorrow doth thee place,  
Sorrow, misfortunes son, despairs foul sire:  
O see thine evil, thy plaint and woe refrain,  
The guides to death, to hell, and endless pain.   

89  
This said, his will to die the patiented  
Abandoned, that second death he feared,  
These words of comfort to his heart down went,  
And that dark night of sorrow somewhat cleared;  
Yet now and then his grief deep sighs forth sent,  
His voice shrill plaints and sad laments oft reared,  
Now to himself, now to his murdered love,  
He spoke, who heard perchance from heaven above.   

90  
Till Phoebus' rising from his evening fall  
To her, for her, he mourns, he calls, he cries;  
The nightingale so when her children small  
Some churl takes before their parents eyes,  
Alone, dismayed, quite bare of comforts all,  
Tires with complaints the seas, the shores, the skies,  
Till in sweet sleep against the morning bright  
She fall at last; so mourned, so slept the knight.   

91  
And clad in starry vale amid his dream,  
(For whose sweet sake he mourned) appeared the maid,  
Fairer than erst, yet with that heavenly beam,  
Not out of knowledge was her lovely shaid,  
With looks of ruth, her eyes celestial seam  
To pity his sad plight, and thus she said,  
Behold how fair, how glad thy love appears,  
And for my sake (my dear) forbear these tears.   

92  
Thine be the thanks, my soul thou madest flit  
At unawares out of her earthly nest,  
Thine be the thanks thou hast advanced it  
In Abraham's dear bosom long to rest,  
There still I love thee, there for Tancred fit  
A seat prepared is, among the blessed;  
There in eternal joy eternal light,  
Thou shalt thy love enjoy, and she her knight:   

93  
Unless thyself, thyself heavens joys envy,  
And thy vain sorrow thee of bliss deprive,  
Live, know I love thee, that I nill deny,  
As angels, men; as saints may wights on live:  
This said, of zeal and love forth of her eye  
An hundredth glorious beams bright shining drive,  
Amid which rays herself she closed from sight,  
And with new joy, new comfort left her knight.   

94  
Thus comforted he waked, and men discreet  
In surgery to cure his wounds were sought,  
Meanwhile of his dear love the relics sweet  
(As best he could) to grave with pomp he brought:  
Her tomb was not of viride Spartan greet,  
Nor yet by cunning hand of Scopas wrought,  
But built of polished stone, and thereon laid  
The lively shape and purtrait of the maid.   

95  
With sacred burning lamps in order long  
And mournful pomp the corpse were brought to ground,  
Her arms upon a leavelesse pine were hung,  
The hearse, with cypress; arms, with laurel crowned:  
Next day the Prince (whose love and courage strong  
Drew forth his limbs, weak, feeble and unsound)  
To visit went, with care and reverence meet,  
The buried ashes of his mistress sweet:   

96  
Before her new made tomb at last arrived,  
The woeful prison of his living sprite,  
Pale, cold, sad, comfortless, of sense deprived,  
Upon the marble grey he fixed his sight,  
Two streams of tears were from his eyes derived:  
Thus with a sad alas, began the knight,  
Oh marble dear on my dear mistress placed!  
My flames within, without my tears thou hast.   

97  
Not of dead bones art thou the mournful grave,  
But of quick love the fortress and the hold,  
Still in my heart thy wonted brands I have  
More bitter far (alas) but not more cold,  
Receive these sighs, these kisses sweet recave,  
In liquid drops of melting tears enrolled,  
And give them to that body pure and chaste  
Which in thy bosom cold entombed thou hast.   

98  
For if her happy soul her eye doth bend  
On that sweet body which it lately dressed,  
My love, thy pity, cannot her offend,  
Anger and wrath is not in angels blest,  
She pardon will the trespass of her friend,  
That hope relieves me with these griefs oppressed,  
This hand she knows hath only sinned, not I,  
Who living loved her, and for love now die:   

99  
And loving will I die, O happy day  
When ere it chanceth! but O far more blest  
If as about thy polished sides I stray,  
My bones within thy hollow grave might rest,  
Together should in heaven our spirits stay,  
Together should our bodies lie in chest;  
So happy death should join, what life doth sever,  
O death, O life! Sweet both, both blessed ever.   

100  
Meanwhile the news in that besieged town  
Of this mishap was whispered here and there,  
Forthwith it spread, and for too true was known,  
Her woeful loss was talked every where,  
Mingled with cries and plaints to heaven up thrown,  
As if the city's self new taken were  
With conquering foes, or as if flame and fire,  
Nor house nor church, nor street had left entire.   

101  
But all men's eyes were on Arsetes bend,  
His sighs were deep, his looks full of despair,  
Out of his woeful eyes no tear there went,  
His heart was hardened with his too much care,  
His silver locks with dust he foul besprent,  
He knocked his breast, his face he rend and tore,  
And while the press flocked to the Eunuch old,  
Thus to the people spoke Argantes bold,   

102  
I would, when first I knew the hardy maid  
Excluded was among her Christian foes,  
Have followed her to give her timely aid,  
Or by her side this breath and life to lose,  
What did I not, or what left I unsaid  
To make the king the gates again unclose?  
But he denied, his power did are restrain  
My will, my suit was waste, my speech was vain:   

103  
Ah, had I gone, I would from danger free  
Have brought to Zion that sweet nymph again,  
Or in the bloody fight, where killed was she,  
In her defence there nobly have been slain:  
But what could I do more? the counsels be  
Of God and man 'gainst my designments plain,  
Dead is Clorinda fair, laid in cold grave,  
Let me revenge her whom I could not save.   

104  
Jerusalem, hear what Argantes saith,  
Hear heaven (and if he break his oath and word,  
Upon this head cast thunder in thy wrath)  
I will destroy and kill that Christian Lord,  
Who this fair dame by night thus murdered hath,  
Nor from my side I will ungird this sword,  
Till Tancred's heart it cleave and shed his blood,  
And leave his corpse to wolves and crows for food.   

105  
This said, the people with a joyful shout  
Applaud his speeches and his words approve,  
And calmed their grief in hope the boaster stout  
Would kill the Prince, who late had slain his love.  
O promise vain! it otherwise fell out:  
Men purpose, but high Gods dispose above,  
For underneath his sword this boaster died,  
Whom thus he scorned and threatened in his pride.    

The thirteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Ismeno sets to guard the forest old  
The wicked spirits, whose ugly shapes affray  
And put to flight the men, whose labour would  
To their dark shades let in heavens golden ray:  
Thither goes Tancred hardy faithful, bold,  
But foolish pity lets him not assay  
His strength and courage: heat the Christian power  
Annoys, whom to refresh Gods sends a shower.   

1  
But scant dissolved into ashes cold  
The smoking tower fell on the scorched grass,  
When new devise found out th'enchanter old,  
By which the town besieged, secured was,  
Of timber fit his foes deprive he would:  
Such terror bred that late consumed mass,  
So that the strength of zions walls to shake,  
They should no turrets, rams, nor engines make.   

2  
From Godfrey's camp a grove a little way  
Amid the valleys deep grows out of sight,  
Thick with old trees whose horrid arms display  
An ugly shade, like everlasting night;  
There when the sun spreads forth his clearest ray,  
Dim, thick, uncertain, gloomy seems the light;  
As when in evening day and darkness strive,  
Which should his foe from our horizon drive.   

3  
But when the sun his chair in seas doth steep,  
Night, horror, darkness thick, the place invade,  
Which vail the mortal eyes with blindness deep,  
And with sad terror make weak hearts afraid,  
Thither no groom drives forth his tender sheep  
To browse, or ease their faint in cooling shade,  
Nor traveller, nor pilgrim there to enter  
(So awful seems that forest old) dare venture.   

4  
United there the ghosts and goblins meet  
To frolic with their mates in silent night,  
With dragon's wings some cleave the welkin fleet,  
Some nimbly run o'er hills and valleys light,  
A wicked troop, that with allurement sweet  
Draws sinful man from that is good and right,  
And there with hellish pomp, their banquets brought  
They solemnize, thus the vain pagan's thought.   

5  
No twist, no twig, no bough nor branch therefore,  
The Saracines cut from that sacred spring;  
But yet the Christians spared near the more,  
The trees to earth with cutting steel to bring:  
Thither went Ismen old with tresses hoar,  
When night on all this earth spread forth her wing,  
And there in silence deaf and mirksome shade,  
His characters and circles vain he made:   

6  
He in the circle set one foot unshod,  
And whispered dreadful charms in ghastly wise,  
Three times (for witchcraft loveth numbers odd)  
Toward the east he gaped, westward thrice,  
He struck the earth thrice with his charmed rod,  
Wherewith dead bones he makes from graves to rise,  
And thrice the ground with naked foot he smote,  
And thus he cried loud, with thundering note.   

7  
Hear, hear, you spirits all that whilom fell,  
Cast down from heaven with dint of roaring thunder,  
Hear, you amid the empty air that dwell,  
And storms and showers power on these kingdoms under;  
Hear, all you devils that lie in deepest hell,  
And rend with torments damned ghosts asunder,  
And of those lands of death, of pain and fear,  
Thou monarch great, great Dis, great Pluto, hear.   

8  
Keep you this forest well, keep every tree,  
Numbered I give you them and truly told;  
As souls of men in bodies clothed be,  
So every plant a spirit shall hide and hold,  
With trembling fear make all the Christians flee,  
When they presume to cut these Cedars old:  
This said, his charms he 'gan again repeat,  
Which none can say but they that use like feat.   

9  
At those strange speeches, still nights splendent fires  
Quenched their lights, and shrunk away for doubt,  
The feeble moon her silver beams retires,  
And wrapped her horns with folding clouds about,  
Ismen his spirits to come with speed requires,  
Why come you not you ever damned rout?  
Why tarry you so long? Perdie you stay  
Till stronger charms and greater words I say.   

10  
I have not yet forgot for want of use,  
What dreadful terms belong this sacred feat,  
My tongue (if still your stubborn hearts refuse)  
That so much dreaded name can well repeat,  
Which heard great Dis cannot himself excuse,  
But hither run from his eternal seat,  
O great and fearful! more he would have said,  
But that he saw the sturdy spirits obeyed.   

11  
Legions of devils by thousands thither come,  
Such as in sparsed air their biding make,  
And thousands also which by heavenly doom  
Condemned lie in deep Auemus lake,  
But slow they came, displeased all and some,  
Because those woods they should in keeping take,  
Yet they obaied and took the charge in hand,  
And under every branch and leaf they stand.   

12  
When thus his cursed work performed was,  
The wizard to his king declared the feat,  
My Lord, let fear, let doubt and sorrow pass,  
Henceforth in safety stands your regal seat,  
Your foe (as he supposed) no mean now has  
To build again his rams and engines great:  
And then he told at large from part to part,  
All what he late performed by wondrous art.   

13  
Besides this help, another hap (quoth he)  
Will shortly chance that brings not profit small,  
Within few days Mars and the sun I see  
Their fi rye beams unite in Leo shall;  
And then extreme the scorching heat will be,  
Which neither rain can quench, nor dews that fall,  
So placed are the Planets high and low,  
That heat, fire, burning all the heavens forshow:   

14  
So great with us will be the warmth therefore,  
As with the Garamantes or those of Ind;  
Yet nill it grieve us in this town so sore,  
We have sweet shade and waters cold by kind:  
Our foes abroad will be tormented more,  
What shield can they or what refreshing find?  
Heaven will them vanquish first, than Egypt's crew  
Destroy them quite, weak, weary, faint and few;   

15  
Thou shalt sit still and conquer, prove no more  
The doubtful hazard of uncertain fight.  
But if Argantes bold (that hates so sore  
All cause of quiet peace, though just and right)  
Provoke thee forth to battle (as before)  
Find means to calm the rage of that fierce knight,  
For shortly heaven will send thee ease and peace,  
And war and trouble 'mongst thy foes increase,   

16  
The king assured by these speeches fair,  
Held Godfrey's power, his might and strength in scorn,  
And now the walls he 'gan in part repair,  
Which late the ram had bruised with iron horn,  
With wise foresight and well advised cairo,  
He fortified each breach and bulwark torn,  
And all his folk, men, women, children small,  
With endless toil again repaired the wall.   

17  
But Godfrey nould this while bring forth his power  
To give assault against that fort in vain,  
Till he had builded new his dreadful tower,  
And reared high his downe-falne rams again:  
His workmen therefore he dispatched that hour,  
To hue the trees out of the forest main,  
They went, and scant the wood appeared in sight,  
When wonders new their fearful hearts affright:   

18  
As silly children dare not bend their eye  
Where they are told strange bugbears haunt the place,  
Or as new monsters while in bed they lie,  
Their fearful thoughts present before their face;  
So feared they, and fled, yet witted not why,  
Nor what pursued them in that fearful chase,  
Except their fear perchance while thus they fled,  
New Chimeres, sphinxes, or like monsters bred;   

19  
Swift to the camp they turned back dismayed,  
With words confused uncertain tales they told,  
That all which heard them scorned what they said,  
And those reports for lies and fables hold.  
A chosen crew in shining arms arrayed  
Duke Godfrey thither sent of soldiers bold,  
To guard the men, and their faint arms provoke  
To cut the dreadful trees with hardy stroke:   

20  
These drawing near the wood, where close ipent  
The wicked spirits in sylvan pinfoldes wear,  
Their eyes upon those shades no sooner bend,  
But frozen dread pierced through their entrails dear;  
Yet on they stalked still, and on they went,  
Under bold semblance hiding coward fear,  
And so far wandered forth with trembling pace,  
Till they approached nigh that enchanted place:   

21  
When from the grove a fearful sound out brakes,  
As if some earthquake hill and mountain tore,  
Wherein the Southern wind a rumbling makes,  
Or like sea waves against the craggy shore,  
There lions gromble, there hiss scaly snakes,  
There howl the wolves, the rugged bears there roar,  
There trumpets shrill are heard and thunders fell,  
And all these sounds one sound expressed well:   

22  
Upon their faces pale well might you note  
A thousand signs of heart amating fear,  
Their reason gone, by no devise they wot  
How to press nigh, or stay still where they wear,  
Against that sudden dread their breasts which smote,  
Their courage weak no shield of proof could bear,  
At last they fled, and one than all more bold,  
Excused their flight, and thus the wonders told.   

23  
My Lord, not one of us there is, I grant,  
That dares cut down one branch in yonder spring,  
I think there dwells a spirit in every plant,  
There keeps his court great Dis infernal king,  
He hath a heart of hardened Adamant  
That without trembling dares attempt the thing,  
And sense he wanteth who so hardy is,  
To hear the forest thunder, roar and his.   

24  
This said, Aleasto to his words gave heed,  
Alcasto leader of the Swissers grim,  
A man both void of wit, and void of dread,  
Who feared not loss of life, nor loss of limb,  
No savage beasts in deserts wild that feed,  
Nor ugly monster could dishearten him,  
Nor whirl wind, thunder, earthquake, storm, or ougl▪  
That in this world is strange or fearful thought:   

25  
He shook his head, and smiling thus 'gan say,  
The hardiness have I that wood to fell,  
And those proud trees low in the dust to lay,  
Wherein such grisly fiends and monsters dwell,  
No roaring ghost my courage can dismay,  
No shriek of birds, beasts roar, or dragons yell;  
But through and through that forest will I wend,  
Although to deepest hell the paths descend.   

26  
Thus boasted he, and leave to go desired,  
And forward went with joyful cheer and will,  
He viewed the wood and those thick shades admired,  
He heard the wondrous noise and rumbling shrill;  
Yet not one foot th'audacious man retired,  
He scorned the peril pressing forward still,  
Till on the forests outmost marge he stepped,  
A flaming fire from entrance there him kept.   

27  
The fire increased, and built a stately wall  
Of burning coals, quick sparks, and embers hot,  
And with bright flames the wood environed all,  
That there no tree nor twist Alcasto got,  
The higher stretched flames seemed bulwarks tall,  
Castles and turrets full of fiery shot,  
With slings and engines strong of every sort,  
What mortal wight durst scale so strange a fort?   

28  
O what strange monsters on the battlement  
In loathsome forms stood to defend the place?  
Their frowning looks upon the knight they bent,  
And threatened death with shot, with sword and mace:  
At last he fled, and though but slow he went,  
As lions do whom jolly hunter's chase;  
Yet fled the man and with sad fear withdrew,  
Though fear till then he never felt nor knew.   

29  
That he had fled long time he never witted,  
But when far run he had discovered it,  
Himself for wonder with his hand he blessed,  
A bitter sorrow by the heart him bit,  
Amazed, ashamed, disgrased, sad, silent, trist,  
Alone he would all day in darkness sit,  
Nor durst he look on man of worth or fame,  
His pride late-great, now greater made his shame.   

30  
Godfredo called him, but he found delays  
And causes why he should his cabin keep,  
At length perforce he comes, but nought he says,  
Or talks like those that babble in their sleep.  
His shamefastness to Godfrey plain bewrays  
His flight, so doth his sighs and sadness deep:  
Whereat amazed, what chance is this (quoth he?)  
These witchcrafts strange or nature's wonders be.   

31  
But if his courage any champion move  
To try the hazard of this dreadful spring,  
I give him leave th'adventure great to prove,  
Some news he may report us of the thing:  
This said, his Lords attempt the charmed grove,  
Yet nothing back but fear and flight they bring,  
For them enforced with trembling to retire  
The sight, the sound, the monsters and the fire.   

32  
This happed when woeful Tancred left his bed,  
To lay in marble cold his mistress dear,  
The lively colour from his cheek was fled,  
His limbs were weak, his helm or targe to bear;  
Nathlesse when need to heigh attempts him led,  
No labour would he shun, no danger fear,  
His valour, boldness, heart and courage brave,  
To his faint body strength and vigour gave.   

33  
To this exploit forth went the venturous knight,  
Fearless, yet heedful; silent, well advised,  
The terrors of that forests dreadful sight,  
Storms, earthquakes, thunders, cries, he all despised,  
He feared nothing, yet a motion light  
(That quickly vanished) in his heart arised,  
When lo between him and the charmed wood,  
A fiery city high as heaven up stood:   

34  
The knight stepped back and took a sudden pause,  
And to himself, what help these arms, (quoth he?)  
If in this fire or monsters gaping jaws  
I headlong cast myself, what boots it me?  
For common profit or my country's cause,  
To hazard life before me none should be:  
But this exploit of no such weight I hold,  
For it to lose a Prince or champion bold.   

35  
But if I fly, what will the Pagans say?  
If I retire, who shall cut down this spring?  
Godfredo will attempt it every day.  
What if some other knight perform the thing?  
These flames uprisen to forestall my way,  
Perchance more terror far than danger bring,  
But hap what shall, this said, he forward stepped,  
And through the fire (O wondrous boldness) leapt!   

36  
He bolted through, but neither warmth nor heat  
He felt, nor sign of fire or scorching flame;  
Yet witted he not in his dismayed conceit,  
If that were fire or no, through which he came;  
For at first touch vanished those monsters great,  
And in their steed the clouds black night did frame,  
And hideous storms and showers of hail and rain,  
Yet storms and tempests vanished strait again,   

37  
Amazed, but not afraid the champion good  
Stood still, but when the tempest passed he spied,  
He entered boldly that forbidden wood,  
And of the forest all the secrets eyed,  
In all his walk no spirit or fantasme stood,  
That stopped his way or passage free denied,  
Save that the growing trees so thick were set,  
That oft his sight, and passage oft they let.   

38  
At length a fair and spacious green he spied,  
Like calmest waters, plain, like velvet; soft,  
Wherein a cypress clad in summers pride  
Pyramid wise, lift up his tops aloft;  
In whose smooth bark upon the cevenest side,  
Strange characters he found and viewed them oft,  
Like those which priests of Egypt erst in stead  
Of letters used, which none but they could read,   

39  
'mongst them he picked out these words at last,  
(Writ in the Syriake tongue, which well he could)  
O hardy knight, who through these woods hast past!  
Where death his palace and his court doth hold,  
O trouble not these souls in quiet placed!  
O be not cruel as thy heart is bold!  
Pardon these ghosts deprived of heavenly light,  
With spirits dead why should men living fight?   

40  
This found he graven in the tender rind,  
And while he mused on this uncouth writ,  
Him thought he heard the softly whistling wind,  
His blasts amid the leaves and branches knit,  
And frame a sound like speech of humane kind,  
But full of sorrow, grief and woe was it,  
Whereby his gentle thoughts all filled wear  
With pity, sadness, grief, compassion, fear:   

41  
He drew his sword at last and gave the tree  
A mighty blow, that made a gaping wound,  
Out of the rift red streams he trickling see  
That all bebled the verdant plain around,  
His hair start up, yet once again stroke he,  
He nould give over till the end he found  
Of this adventure, when with plaint and moan,  
(As from some hollow grave) he heard one groan.   

42  
Enough enough the voice lamenting said,  
Tancred thou hast me hurt, thou didst me drive  
Out of the body of a noble maid,  
Who with me lived, whom late I kept on live,  
And now within this woeful cypress laid,  
My tender rind thy weapon sharp doth rive,  
Cruel, be't not enough thy foes to kill,  
But in their graves wilt thou torment them still?   

43  
I was Clorinda, now imprisoned here,  
(Yet not alone) within this plant I dwell,  
For every Pagan Lord and Christian peer,  
Before the cities walls last day that fell,  
(In bodies new or graves I wot not clear)  
But here they are confined by magikes spell,  
So that each tree hath life, and sense each bou,  
A murderer if thou cut one twist art thou.   

44  
As the sick man that in his sleep doth see  
Some oughly dragon or some chimere new,  
Though he suspect or half persuaded be,  
It is an idle dream, no monster true,  
Yet still he fears, he quakes, and strives to flee,  
So fearful is that wondrous form to view;  
So feared the knight, yet he both knew and thought  
All were illusions false by witchcraft wrought:   

45  
But cold and trembling waxed his frozen heart,  
Such strange affects, such passions it torment,  
Out of his feeble hand his weapon start,  
Himself out of his wits nigh, after went:  
Wounded he saw (he thought) for pain and smart  
His Lady weep, complain, mourn and lament,  
Nor could he suffer her dear blood to see,  
Or hear her sighs that deep far fetched be.   

46  
Thus his fierce heart which death had scorned oft,  
Whom no strange shape, or monster could dismay,  
With feigned shows of tender love made soft,  
A spirit false did with vain plaints betray,  
A whirling wind his sword heaved up aloft,  
And through the forest bore it quite away,  
O'ercome retired the Prince, and as he came  
His sword he found and repossessed the same:   

47  
Yet nould return, he had no mind to try  
His courage further in those forests green,  
But when to Godfrey's tent he proched nigh,  
His spirits waked, his thoughts composed been,  
My Lord (quoth he) a witness true am I  
Of wonders strange, believed scant though seen,  
What of the fire, the shades, the dreadful sound,  
You heard, all true by proof myself have found,   

48  
A burning fire (so are those deserts charmed)  
Built like a batled wall to heaven was reared,  
Whereon with darts and dreadful weapons armed,  
Of monsters foul misshaped whole bands appeared;  
But through them all I passed, unhurt, unharmed,  
No flame or threatened blow I felt or feared,  
Then rain and night I found, but strait again  
To day, the night; to sunshine turned the rain,   

49  
What would you more? each tree through all that wood  
Hath sense, hath life, hath speech, like humane kind,  
I heard their words, as in that grove I stood,  
That mournful voice still, still I bear in mind:  
And (as they were of flesh) the purple blood,  
At every blow streams from the wounded rind,  
No, no, not I, nor any else (I trow)  
Hath power to cut one leaf, one branch, one brow.   

50  
While thus he said; the Christians noble guide  
Felt uncouth strife in his contentious thought,  
He thought, what if himself in person tried  
Those witchcrafts strange, and bring those charms to nought,  
For such he deemed them, or elsewhere provide  
For timber easier got though further sought,  
But from his study he at last abraid,  
Called by the Hermit old that to him said,   

51  
Leave off thy hardy thought, an others hands  
Of these her plants the wood dispoilen shall,  
Now, now the fatal ship of conquest lands,  
Her sails are struck, her silver anchores fall,  
Our champion broken hath his worthless bands,  
And looseth from the soil which held him thrall,  
The time draws nigh when our proud foes in field  
Shall slaughtered lie, and zions for't shall yield.   

52  
This said, his visage shone with beams divine  
And more than mortal was his voices sound,  
Godfredos thought to other acts incline,  
His working brain was never idle found.  
But in the crab now did bright Titan shine,  
And scorched with scalding beams the parched ground,  
And made unfit for toil or warlike feat,  
His soldiers, weak with labour, faint with sweat:   

53  
The Planets mild their lamps benign quenched out,  
And cruel stars in heaven did signories,  
Whose influence cast fiery flames about,  
And hot impressions through the earth and skies,  
The growing heat still gathered deeper rout,  
The noisome warmth through lands and kingdoms flies,  
A harmful night a hurtful day succeeds,  
And worse than both next morn her light outspreeds.   

54  
When Phoebus rose he left his golden weed,  
And donned a gite in deepest purple died,  
His sanguine beams about his forehead spreed,  
A sad presage of ill that should betide,  
With vermile drops at eau'n his tresses bleed,  
Foreshows of future heat, from th'Ocean wide  
When next he rose, and thus increased still,  
Their present harms with dread of future ill.   

55  
While thus he bent 'gainst earth his scorching rays,  
He burned the flowrets, burned his Clitie dear,  
The leaves grew wan upon the withered sprays,  
The grass and growing herbs all parched wear,  
Earth cleft in rifts, in floods their streams decay,  
The barren clouds with lightning bright appear,  
And mankind feared least Climenes child again,  
Had driven awry his fires il-guided wain;   

56  
As from a furnace, flew the smoke to skies,  
Such smoke as that when damned Sodom brent,  
Within his caves sweet Zephir silent lies,  
Still was the air, the rack nor came nor went,  
But o'er the lands with lukewarm breathing flies  
The Southern wind, from sunburnt Africa sent,  
Which thick and warm his interrupted blasts  
Upon their bosoms, throats and faces casts.   

57  
Nor yet more comfort brought the gloomienight,  
In her thick shades was burning heat uprold,  
Her fable mantle was embroidered bright,  
With blazing stars, and gliding fires for gold,  
Nor to refresh (sad earth) thy thirsty sprite,  
The niggard moon let fall her May-dewes cold,  
And dried up the vital moisture was,  
In trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass.   

58  
Sleep to his quiet dales exiled fled,  
From these unquiet nights, and oft in vain  
The soldiers restless sought the god in bed,  
But most for thirst they mourned and most complain;  
For Judais tyrant had strong poison shed,  
(Poison that breeds more woe and deadly pain,  
Than Acheron or Stygian waters bring)  
In every fountain, cistern, well, and spring:   

59  
And little Siloe that his store bestows  
Of purest crystal on the Christian bands,  
The pebbles naked in his channel shows,  
And scantly glides above the scorched sands;  
Nor Poe in May when o'er his banks he flows,  
Nor Ganges, watrer of the Indian lands,  
Nor seven mouthed Nile that yields all Egypt drink,  
To quench their thirst the men sufficient think.   

60  
He that the gild rivers erst had seen,  
Adown their verdant channels gently rolled,  
Or falling streams which to the valleys green  
distilled from tops of Alpine mountains cold,  
Those he desired in vain, new torments been,  
Augmented thus, with wish of comforts old,  
Those waters cool he drank in vain conceit,  
Which more increased his thirst, increased his heat.   

61  
The sturdy bodies of the warriors strong,  
Whom neither marching far, nor tedious way,  
Nor weighty arms which on their shoulders hung,  
Can weary make, nor death itself dismay;  
Now weak and feeble cast their limbs along,  
Vnweildie burdens, on the burned clay,  
And in each vain a smouldering fire there dwelled,  
Which dried their flesh, and solid bones did melt.   

62  
Languished the stead late fierce, and proffered grass,  
His fodder erst, despised, and from him kest,  
Each step he stumbled, and which lofty was  
And heigh advanced before, now fell his crest,  
His conquests gotten all forgotten pass,  
Nor with desire of glory swelled his breast,  
The spoils won from his foe, his late rewards,  
He now neglects, despiseth, nought regards.   

63  
Languished the faithful dog, and wont cairo  
Of his dear Lord and cabin both forgot,  
Panting he laid, and gathered fresher air  
To cool the burning in his entrails hot:  
But breathing (which wise Nature did prepare  
To suage the stomachs heat) now booted not,  
For little ease (alas) small help they win,  
That breath forth air, and scalding fire suck in.   

64  
Thus languished the earth, in this estate  
Lay woeful thousands of the Christians stout,  
The faithful people grew nigh desperate  
Of hoped conquest, shameful death they doubt,  
Of their distress they talk and oft debate,  
These sad complaints were heard the camp throughout,  
What hope hath Godfrey? Shall we still here lie,  
Till all his soldiers, all our armies die?   

65  
Alas, with what device, what strength, thinks he  
To scale these walls, or this strong fort to get?  
Whence hath he engines new? doth he not see,  
How wrathful heaven 'gainst us his sword doth whet?  
These tokens shown true signs and witness be,  
Our angry God our proud attempts doth let,  
And scorching sun so hot his beams outspreeds,  
That not more cooling Ind nor AEthiop needs:   

66  
Or thinks he it an each or little thing,  
That us despised, neglected, and disdained,  
Like abjects vile to death he thus should bring?  
That so his Empire may be still maintained?  
Is it so great a bliss to be a king,  
When he that wears the crown with blood is stained,  
And buys his sceptre with his people's lives?  
See whither glory vain, fond mankind drives.   

67  
See, see the man, called holy, just and good,  
That courteous, meek, and humble would be thought,  
Yet never cared in what distress we stood,  
If his vain honour were diminished nought,  
When dried up from us is spring and flood,  
His water must from Jordan streams be brought,  
And now he sits at feasts and banquets sweet,  
And mingleth waters fresh, with wines of Crect.   

68  
The French thus murmoured, but the Greekish knight  
Tatine, that of this war was weary grown,  
Why die we here (quoth he) slain without fight,  
Killed, not subdued? Murdered, not overthrown?  
Upon the Frenchmen let the penance light  
Of Godfrey's folly, let me save mine own,  
And as he said, without farewell, the knight  
And all his comet stole away by night:   

69  
His bad example many a troop prepares  
To imitate, when his escape they know,  
Clotharius his band, and Ademares,  
And all, whose guides in dust were buried low,  
Discharged of duties chains and bondage snares,  
Free from their oath, to none they service own,  
But now concluded all on secret flight,  
And shrunk away by thousands every night.   

70  
Godfredo this both heard and saw, and knew,  
Yet nould with death them chastise though he mought,  
But with that faith wherewith he could remew  
The steadfast hills, and seas dry up to nought,  
He prayed the Lord upon his flock to rue,  
To open the springs of grace, and ease this drought,  
Out of his looks shone zeal, devotion, faith,  
His hands and eyes to heaven he heaves, and saith;   

71  
Father and Lord, if in the deserts wast  
Thou hadst compassion on thy children dear,  
The craggy rock when Moses cloven and braced,  
And drew forth flowing streams of waters clear,  
Like mercy (Lord) like grace, on us down cast;  
And though our merits less than theirs appear,  
Thy grace supply that want, for though they be  
Thy first borne son, thy children yet are we.   

72  
These prayers just from humble heart forth sent,  
Were nothing slow to climb the starry sky,  
But swift as winged bird themselves present  
Before the father of the heavens high:  
The Lord accepted them and gently bend  
Upon the faithful host his gracious eye,  
And in what pain and what distress it laid,  
He saw, and grieved to see, and thus he said:   

73  
Mine armies dear till now have suffered woe,  
Distress and danger, hell's infernal power  
Their enemy hath been, the world their foe,  
But happy be their actions from this hour,  
What they begin to blessed end shall go,  
I will refresh them with a gentle shower;  
Rinaldo shall return, th'Egyptian crew  
They shall encounter, conquer and subdue.   

74  
At these high words great heaven began to shake,  
The fixed stars, the planets wandering still,  
Trembled the air, the earth and Ocean quake,  
Spring, fountain, river, forest, dale and hill,  
From north to east a lightning flash out-brake,  
And coming drops presaged with thunders shrill:  
With joyful shouts the soldiers on the plain,  
These tokens bless of long desired rain,   

75  
A sudden cloud, as when Helias prayed,  
(Not from dry earth exhaled by Phoebus' beams)  
Arose, moist heaven his windows open laid,  
Whence clouds by heaps out-rush, and watery streams,  
The world over spread was with a gloomy shade,  
That like a dark and mirksome even it seams;  
The dashing rain, from molten skies down fell,  
And o'er their banks the brooks and fountains swell.   

76  
In summer season, when the cloudy sky  
Upon the parched ground doth rain down send,  
As duck and mallard in the furrows dry,  
With merry noise the promised showers attend,  
And spreading broad their wings displayed lie  
To keep the drops that on their plumes descend,  
And where the streams swell to a gathered lake  
Therein they dive, and sweet refreshing take:   

77  
So they the streaming showers with shouts and cries  
Salute, which heaven shed on the thirsty lands,  
The falling liquor from the dropping skies  
He catcheth in his lap, he barehead stands,  
And his bright helm to drink therein unties,  
In the fresh streams he dives his sweaty hands,  
Their faces some, and some their temples wet,  
And some to keep the drops large vessels set.   

78  
Nor man alone to ease his burning sore,  
Herein doth dive and wash, and hereof drinks,  
But earth itself weak, feeble, faint before,  
Whose solid limbs were cleft with rifts and chinks,  
Received the falling showers and gathered store  
Of liquor sweet, that through her veins down sinks,  
And moisture new infused largely was  
In trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass.   

79  
Earth, like the patient was, whose lively blood  
Hath overcome at last some sickness strong,  
Whose feeble limbs had been the bait and food,  
Whereon his strange disease depastred long,  
But now restored, in health and welfare stood,  
As sound as erst, as fresh, as fair, as young;  
So that forgetting all his grief and pain,  
His pleasant robes, and crowns he takes again.   

80  
Ceased the rain, the sun began to shine,  
With fruitful, sweet, benign, and gentle ray,  
Full of strong power and vigour masculine,  
As be his beams in April or in May.  
O happy zeal, who trusts in help divine,  
The world's afflictions thus can drive away,  
Can storms appease, and times and seasons change,  
And conquer fortune, fate and dest'nie strange.    

The fourteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The Lord to Godfrey in a dream doth show  
His will; Rinaldo must return at last;  
They have their ask who for pardon sew:  
Two knights to find the Prince are sent in haste,  
But Peter who by vision all foreknew  
Sendeth the searchers to a wizard, placed  
Deep in a vault, who first at large declares  
Armidaes' trains, than how to shun those snanes.   

1  
NOw from the fresh, the soft and tender bed  
Of her still mother, gentle night out flew,  
The fleeting balm on hills and dales she shed,  
With honey drops of pure and precious dew,  
And on the verdure of green forests spread  
The virgin primrose and the violet blew,  
And sweet breathed Zephir on his spreading wings  
Sleep, ease, repose, rest, peace and quiet brings.   

2  
The thoughts and troubles of broad-waking day  
They softly dipped in mild oblivions lake;  
But he, whose Godhead heaven and earth doth sway,  
In his eternal light did watch and wake,  
And bend on Godfrey down the gracious ray  
Of his bright eye, still open for Godfrey's sake,  
To whom a silent dream the Lord down sent.  
Which told his will, his pleasure and intent.   

3  
Far in the east (the golden gate beside  
Whence Phoebus comes) a crystal port there is,  
And ere the sun his broad doors open wide,  
The beam of springing day uncloseth this,  
Hence come the dreams, by which heavens sacred guide  
Reveals to man those high decrees of his,  
Hence towards Godfrey ere he left his bed  
A vision strange his golden plumes bespread:   

4  
Such semblances, such shapes, such purtraites fair  
Did never yet in dream or sleep appear,  
For all the forms in sea, in earth, or air,  
The signs in heaven, the stars in every sphere,  
All what was wondrous, uncouth, strange and raire,  
All in that vision well presented wear,  
His dream had placed him in a crystal wide,  
Beset with golden fires, top, bottom, side.   

5  
There while he wondereth on the circles vast,  
The stars, their motions, course and harmony,  
A knight (with shining rays and fire embraced)  
Presents himself unwares before his eye,  
Who with a voice that far for sweetness past  
All humane speech, thus said approaching nigh,  
What Godfrey knowst thou not thy Hugo here?  
Come and embrace thy friend and fellow dear:   

6  
He answ'red him, that glorious shining light  
Which in thine eyes his glistering beams doth place,  
Estranged hath from my foreknowledge quite  
Thy countenance, thy favour, and thy face:  
This said, three times he stretch his hands outright,  
And would in friendly arms the knight embrace,  
And thrice the spirit fled, that thrice he twined  
Nought in his folded arms, but air and wind.   

7  
Lord Hugo smiled, not as you think (quoth he)  
I clothed am in flesh and earthly mould,  
My spirit pure and naked soul you see,  
A Citizen of this celestial hold,  
This place is heaven, and here a room for thee  
Prepared is, among Christ's champions bold:  
Ah when (quoth he) (these mortal bonds unknit)  
Shall I in peace, in ease, and rest there sit?   

8  
Hugo replied, ere many years shall run,  
Amid the saints in bliss here shalt thou rain;  
But first great wars must by thy hand be done,  
Much blood be shed, and many Pagans slain,  
The holy city by assault be won,  
The land set free from servile yoke again,  
Wherein thou shalt a Christian Empire frame,  
And after thee shall Baldwine rule the same.   

9  
But to increase thy love and great desire  
To heaven ward, this blessed place behold,  
These shining lamps, these globes of living fire,  
How they are turned, guided, moved and rolled,  
The Angels singing here and all their choir;  
Then bend thine eyes on yonder earth and mould,  
All in that mass, that globe, and compass see,  
Land, sea, spring, fountain, man, beast, grass and tree,   

10  
How vile, how small, and of how slender price,  
Is there reward of goodness, virtues gain;  
A narrow room our glory vain up-ties,  
A little circle doth our pride contain,  
Earth like an Isle amid the water lies,  
Which sea sometime is called, sometime the main,  
Yet nought therein responds a name so great,  
It's but a lake, a pond, a marish street.   

11  
Thus said the one, the other bended down  
His looks to ground, and half in scorn he smiled,  
He saw at once earth, sea, flood, castle, town,  
Strangely divided, strangely all compiled,  
And wondered folly man so far should drown,  
To set his heart on things so base and wild,  
That servile empire searcheth and dumb same,  
And scorns heavens bliss, yet profreth heaven the same.   

12  
Wherefore he answered, since the Lord not yet  
Will free my spirit from this cage of clay,  
Lest worldly error vain my voyage let,  
Teach me to heaven the best and surest way:  
Hugo replied, thy happy foot is set  
In the true path, nor from this passage stray,  
Only from exile young Rinaldo call,  
This give I thee in charge, else nought at all.   

13  
For as the Lord of hosts, the king of bliss,  
Hath chosen thee to rule the faithful band;  
So he thy stratagems appointed is  
To execute, so both shall win this land,  
The first is thine, the second place is his,  
Thou art this army's head, and he the hand,  
No other champion can his place supply,  
And that thou do it doth thy state deny.   

14  
Th'enchanted forest, and her charmed treene  
With cutting steel shall he to earth down hue,  
And thy weak armies which too feeble been  
To scale again these walls r'inforced new,  
And fainting lie dispersed on the green,  
Shall take new strength, new courage at his view,  
The heigh built towers, the eastren squadrons all  
Shall conquered be, shall fly, shall die, shall fall,   

15  
He held his peace: and Godfrey answered so,  
O how his presence would recomfort me,  
You that man's hidden thoughts perceive and know,  
(If I say truth, or if I love him) see,  
But say, what messengers shall for him go?  
What shall their speeches, what their errand be?  
Shall I entreat or else command the man?  
With credit neither well perform I can.   

16  
Th'eternal Lord (the other knight replied)  
That with so many graces hath thee blest,  
Will, that among the troops thou hast to guide,  
Thou honoured be and feared of most and lest:  
Then speak not thou least blemish some betide  
Thy sacred Empire, if thou make request;  
But when by suit thou moved art to ruth,  
Then yield, forgive, and home recall the youth.   

17  
Guelpho shall pray thee (God shall him inspire)  
To pardon this offence, this fault commit  
By hasty wrath, by rash and headstrong ire,  
To call the knight again, yield thou to it:  
And though the youth (enwrapped in fond desire)  
far hence in love and looseness idle sit,  
Yet fear it not he shall return with speed,  
When most you wish him, and when most you need.   

18  
Your hermit Peter, to whose sapient heart  
High heaven his secrets opens, tells, and shows,  
Your messengers direct can to that part,  
Where of the Prince they shall hear certain news,  
And learn the way, the manner, and the art  
To bring him back to these thy warlike crews,  
That all thy soldiers wandered and misgone,  
Heaven may unite again and join in one.   

19  
But this conclusion shall my speeches end,  
Know that his blood shall mixed be with thine,  
Whence Barons bold and Worthies shall descend,  
That many great exploits shall bring to fine.  
This said, he vanished from his sleeping friend,  
Like smoke in wind, or missed in Titan's shine;  
Sleep fled likewise, and in his troubled thought,  
With wonder, pleasure; joy, with marvel fought.   

20  
The Duke looked up, and saw the Azure sky  
With Argent beams of silver morning spread,  
And started up, for praise and virtue lie  
In toil and travel, sin and shame in bed:  
His arms he took, his sword girt to his thy,  
To his pavilion all his Lords them sped,  
And there in counsel grave the Princes sit,  
For strength by wisdom, war is ruled by wit.   

21  
Lord Guelpho there (within whose gentle breast  
Heaven had infused that new and sudden thought)  
His pleasing words thus to the Duke addressed;  
Good prince, mild, though unasked, kind, unbesought,  
O let thy mercy grant my just request,  
Pardon this fault by rage, not malice, wrought;  
For great offence, I grant, so late commit,  
My suit too hasty is, perchance unfit.   

22  
But since to Godfrey meek, benign and kind,  
For Prince Rinaldo bold, I humbly sue,  
And that the suitors self is not behind  
Thy greatest friends, in state, or friendship true;  
I trust I shall thy grace and mercy find  
Acceptable to me and all this crew;  
Oh call him home, this trespass to amend,  
He shall his blood in Godfrey's service spend:   

23  
And if not he, who else dares undertake  
Of this enchanted wood to cut one tree?  
'Gainst death and danger who dares battle make,  
With so bold face, so fearless heart, as he?  
Beat down these walls, these gates in pieces break,  
Leap over these rampires heigh, thou shalt him see:  
Restore therefore to this desirous band  
Their wish, their hope, their strength, their shield, their hand;   

24  
To me my nephew, to thyself restore  
A trusty help, when strength of hand thou needs,  
In idleness let him consume no more,  
Recall him to his noble acts and deeds.  
Known be his worth as was his strength of yore,  
Where ere thy standard broad her cross outspreeds,  
O let his fame and praise, spread far and wide,  
Be thou his Lord, his teacher, and his guide.   

25  
Thus he entreated, and the rest approve  
His words, with friendly murmurs whispered low,  
Godfrey as though their suit his mind did move  
To that, whereon he never thought till now,  
How can my heart (quoth he) if you I love  
To your request and suit but bend and bow?  
Let rigour go, that right and justice be,  
Wherein you all consent, and all agree.   

26  
Rinaldo shall return, let him restrain  
Henceforth his headstrong wrath and hasty ire,  
And with his hardy deeds let him take pain  
To correspond your hope, and my desire:  
Guelpho thou must call home the knight again,  
See that with speed he to these tents retire,  
The messengers appoint as likes thy mind,  
And teach them where they should the youngman find.   

27  
Upstart the Dane that bore Prince Swenos brand,  
I will (quoth he) that message undertake,  
I will refuse no pains by sea or land  
To give the knight this sword, kept for his sake,  
This man was bold of courage, strong of hand,  
Guelpho was glad he did the proffer make,  
Thou shalt (quoth he) Ubaldo shalt thou have  
To go with thee, a knight, stout, wise, and grave.   

28  
Ubaldo in his youth had known and seen  
The fashions strange of many an uncouth land,  
And travelled over all the realms, between  
The Arctic circle and hot Meroes' strand,  
And as a man whose wit his guide had been,  
Their customs use he could, tongues understand,  
For thy when spent his youthful seasons wear  
Lord Guelpho entertained and held him dear.   

29  
To these committed was the charge and cairo  
To find, and bring again the champion bold,  
Guelpho commands them to the fort repair  
Where Boemond doth his seat and sceptre hold,  
For public fame said that Bertoldoes' hair  
There lived, there dwelled, there staid, the hermit old  
(That knew they were misled by false report)  
Among them came, and parled in this sort:   

30  
Sir knights (quoth he) if you intend to ride,  
And follow each report fond people say,  
You follow but a rash and trothless guide,  
That leads vain men amiss, and makes them stray,  
Near Ascalon go to the salt sea side,  
Where a swift brook falls in with hideous sway,  
An aged sire, our friend, there shall you find,  
All what he saith that do, that keep in mind,   

31  
Of this great voyage which you undertake,  
Much by his skill, and much by mine advise  
Hath he foreknown, and welcome for mysake  
You both shall be, the man is kind and wise;  
Instructed thus no further question make  
The twain, elected for this enterprise,  
But humbly yielded to obey his word,  
For what the Hermit said, that said the Lord.   

32  
They took their leave, and on their journey went,  
Their will could brook no stay, their zeal, no let;  
To Ascalon their voyage strait they bent,  
Whose broken shores with brackish waves are wet,  
And there they heard how 'gainst the cliffs (besprent  
With bitter foam) the roaring surges bet,  
A tumbling brook their passage stopped and stayed,  
Which late fallen rain had proud and puissant maid,   

33  
So proud that over all his banks he grew,  
And through the fields ran swift as shaft from bow,  
While here they stopped and stood, before them drew  
An aged sire, grave and benign in show,  
Crowned with a beechen garland gathered new,  
Clad in a linen robe that reached down low,  
In his right hand a rod, and on the flood  
Against the stream he Marched, and dry-shod yood.   

34  
As on the Rhine (when winters freezing cold  
Congeals the streams to thick and hardened glass)  
The beavies fair of shepherds daughters bold,  
With wanton wind lays run, turn, play and pass;  
So on this river past the wizard old,  
Although unfrosen, soft and swift it was,  
And thither stalked where the warrious stayed,  
To whom (their greetings done) he spoke, and said:   

35  
Great pains, great travail (Lords) you have begun,  
And of a cunning guide great need you stand,  
far off (alas) is great Bertoldoes' son,  
Imprisoned in a waste and desert land,  
What soil remains by which you must not run?  
What promontory, rock, sea, shore or sand?  
Your search must stretch before the prince be found,  
Beyond our world, beyond our half of ground.   

36  
But yet vouchsafe to see my cell I pray,  
In hidden caves and vaults though builded low,  
Great wonders there, strange things I will bewray,  
Things good for you to hear, and fit to know:  
This said, he bids the river make them way,  
The flood retired, and backward 'gan to flow,  
And here and there two crystal mountains rise,  
So fled the red sea once, and Jordan thrice.   

37  
He took their hands and led them headlong down  
Under the flood, through vast and hollow deeps,  
Such light they had as when through shadows brown  
Of thickest deserts feeble Cynthia peeps,  
There spacious caves they saw all overflown,  
There all his waters pure great Neptune keeps,  
And thence to moisten all the earth, he brings  
Seas, rivers, floods, lakes, fountains, wells and springs:   

38  
Whence Ganges, Indus, Volga, Ister, Poe,  
Whence Euphrates, whence tigress spring they view,  
Whence Tanais, whence Nilus comes also,  
(Although his head till then no creature knew)  
But under these a wealthy stream doth go  
That Sulphur yields and oar, rich, quick and new,  
Which the sunbeams doth polish, purge and fine,  
And makes it silver pure, and gold divine.   

39  
And all his banks the rich and wealthy stream  
Hath fair beset, with pearl and precious stone,  
Like stars in sky, or lamps on stage that seam,  
The darkness there was day, the night was gone,  
There sparkled (clothed in his azure beam)  
The heavenly Zaphire, there the jacinth shone,  
The Carbuncle there flamed, the diamond sheen,  
There glistered bright, there smiled the emerald greene.   

40  
Amazed the knights amid these wonders past,  
And fixed so deep the marvels in their thought,  
That not one word they uttered, till at last  
Ubaldo spoke, and thus his guide besought,  
O father tell me, by what skill thou hast  
These wonders done? and to what place us brought?  
For well I know not if I wake or sleep,  
My heart is drowned in such amazement deep.   

41  
You are within the hollow womb (quoth he)  
Of fertile earth, the nurse of all things made,  
And but you brought and guided are by me,  
Her sacred entrails could no wight invade,  
My palace shortly shall you splendent see  
With glorious light, though built in night and shade,  
A Pagan was I borne, but yet the Lord  
To grace (by baptism) hath my soul restored.   

42  
Nor yet by help of devil, or aid from hell  
I do this uncouth work and wondrous feat,  
The Lord forbidden, I use or charm or spell  
To raise foul Dis from his infernal seat,  
But of all herbs, of every spring and well,  
The hidden power I know and virtue great,  
And all that kind hath hid from mortal sight,  
And all the stars, their motions and their might,   

43  
For in these caves I dwell not buried still  
From sight of heaven, but often I resort  
To tops of Libanon or Carmell hill,  
And there in liquid air myself disport,  
There Mars and Venus I behold at will,  
As bare, as erst when Vulcan took them short,  
And how the rest roll, glide and move, I see,  
How their aspects benign or froward be.   

44  
And underneath my feet the clouds I view,  
Now thick, now thin, now bright with Iris bow,  
The frost and snow, the rain, the hail, the dew,  
The winds from whence they come, and whence they blow,  
How Jove his thunder makes, and lightning new,  
How with the boult he strikes the earth below,  
How comate, crinite, caudate stars are framed  
I knew, my skill with pride my heart inflamed.   

45  
So learned, cunning, wise, myself I thought,  
That I supposed my wit so high might climb  
To know all things that God had framed or wrought,  
Fire, air, sea, earth, man, beast, spirit, place, and time:  
But when your hermit me to baptism brought,  
And from my soul had washed the sin and crime,  
Then I perceived my sight was blindness still,  
My wit, was folly; ignorance, my skill.   

46  
Then saw I, that like owls in shining son,  
So 'gainst the beams of truth, our souls are blind,  
And at myself to smile I then begun,  
And at my heart, puffed up with folly's wind,  
Yet still these arts as I before had done  
I practised, such was the hermits mind:  
Thus hath he changed my thoughts, my heart, my will,  
And rules mine art, my knowledge, and my skill.   

47  
In him I rest, on him my thoughts depend,  
My Lord, my teacher, and my guide is he,  
This noble work he strives to bring to end,  
He is the Architect, the workmen we;  
The hardy youth home to this camp to send  
From prison strong, my care, my charge shall be,  
So he commands, and me ere this foretold  
Your coming oft, to seek the champion bold.   

48  
While this he said, he brought the champions twain  
Down to a vault, wherein he dwells and lies,  
It was a cave high, wide, large, ample, plain,  
With goodly rooms, halls, chambers, galleries,  
All what is bred in rich and precious vain  
Of wealthy earth, and hid from mortal eyes,  
There shines, and fair adorned was every part,  
With riches grown by kind, not framed by art:   

49  
An hundredth grooms, quick, diligent and neat,  
Attendance gave about these strangers bold,  
Against the wall there stood a cupboard great  
Of massy plate, of silver, crystal, gold.  
But when with precious wines and costly meat  
They filled were, thus spoke the wizard old,  
Now fits the time (sir knights) I tell and show  
What you desire to hear, and long to know;   

50  
Armidaes' craft, her sleight and hidden guile  
You partly wot, her acts and arts untrue,  
How to your camp she came, and by what wile  
The greatest Lords and Princes thence she drew,  
You know she turned them first to monsters vile,  
And kept them since closed up in secret mew,  
Lastly to Gaza ward in bonds them sent,  
Whom young Rinaldo rescued as they went.   

51  
What chanced since I will at large declare,  
(To you unknown) a story strange and true,  
When first her prey (got with such pain and care)  
Escaped and gone, the witch perceived and knew,  
Her hands she wrong for grief, her clothes she tore,  
And full of woe these heavy words out threw:  
Alas, my knights are slain, my prisoners free,  
Yet of that conquest never boast shall he;   

52  
He in their place shall serve me, and sustain  
Their plagues, their torments suffer, sorrows bear,  
And they his absence shall lamentin vain,  
And wail his loss and theirs, with many a tear:  
Thus talking to herself she did ordain  
A false and wicked guile, as you shall hear,  
Thither she hasted, where the valiant knight  
Had overcome and slain her men in fight.   

53  
Rinaldo there had doffed and left his own,  
And on his back a Pagans harness tide,  
Perchance he deemed so to pass unknown,  
And in those arms less noted safe to ride,  
A headless corpse in fight late overthrown,  
The Witch in his forsaken arms did hide,  
And by a brook exposed it on the sand  
Wither she wished would come a Christian band:   

54  
Their coming might the dame foreknow right well,  
For secret spies she sent forth thousand ways,  
Which every day news from the camp might tell,  
Who parted thence, booties to search or prays:  
Beside, the sprights conjured by sacred spell,  
All what she asks or doubts, reveals and says,  
The body therefore placed she in that part,  
That furthred best her sleight, her craft, and art;   

55  
And near the corpses a varlet false and sly  
She left, attired in shepherds homely weed,  
And taught him how to counterfeit, and lie  
As time required, and he performed the deed,  
With him your soldiers spoke, of jealousy  
And false suspect 'mongst them he strowed the seed,  
That since brought forth the fruit of strife and jar,  
Of civil brawls, contention, discord, war.   

56  
And as she wished so the soldiers thought,  
By Godfrey's practice that the Prince was slain,  
Yet vanished that suspicion false to nought,  
When truth spread forth her silver wings again:  
Her false devices thus Armida wrought,  
This was her first deceit, her foremost train,  
What next she practised (shall you hear me tell)  
Against our knight, and what thereof befell.   

57  
Armida hunted him through wood and plain,  
Till on Orontes flowery banks he stayed,  
There, where the stream did part and meet again,  
And in the midst a gentle Island maid,  
A pillar fair was pight beside the main,  
Near which a little frigate floating laid,  
The marble white the Prince did long behold,  
And this inscription read, there writ in gold:   

58  
Who so thou art whom will or chance doth bring  
With happy steps to flood Orontes sides,  
Know, that the world hath not so strange a thing,  
(Twixt east and west) as this small Island hides,  
Then pass and see, without more tarrying.  
The hasty youth to pass the stream provides,  
And for the cog was narrow, small and straight,  
Alone he rowed, and bod his squires there wait;   

59  
Landed he stalks about, yet nought he sees  
But verdant groves, sweet shades, and mossy rocks,  
With caves and fountains, flowers, herbs and trees,  
So that the words he read he takes for mocks:  
But that green Isle was sweet at all degrees,  
Wherewith enticed down sits he and unlocks  
His closed helm, and bears his visage fair,  
To take sweet breath from cool and gentle air.   

60  
A rumbling sound amid the waters deep  
Meanwhile he heard, and thither turned his sight,  
And tumbling in the troubled stream took keep,  
How the strong waves together rush and fight,  
Whence first he saw (with golden tresses) peep  
The rising visage of a virgin bright,  
And then her neck, her breasts, and all, as low  
As he for shame could see, or she could show.   

61  
So in the twilight doth sometimes appear  
A Nymph, a goddess, or a fairy Queen,  
And though no Siren but a spirit this wear;  
Yet by her beauty seemed it she had been  
One of those sister's false, which haunted near  
The Tirrhene shores, and kept those water's sheen,  
Like theirs her face, her voice was and her sound,  
And thus she sung, and pleased both skies and ground.   

62  
Ye happy youths, whom April fresh and May  
Attire in flowering green of lusty age,  
For glory vainc, or virtues idle ray,  
Do not your tender limbs to toil engage,  
In calm streams, fishes; birds, in sunshine play,  
Who followeth pleasure he is only sage,  
So nature saith, yet 'gainst her sacred will  
Why still rebel you, and why strine you still?   

63  
O fools who youth possess, yet scorn the same,  
A precious, but a short abiding, treasure,  
Virtue itself is but an idle name,  
Prized by the world 'bove reason all and measure,  
And honour, glory, praise, renown and fame,  
That men's proud hearts bewitch with tickling pleasure,  
An echo is, a shade, a dream, a flower  
With each wind blasted, spoiled with every shower.   

64  
But let your happy souls in joy possess  
The ivory castles of your bodies fair,  
Your passed harms salve with forgetfulness,  
Haste not your coming evils with thought and cairo,  
Regard no blazing star with burning tress,  
Nor storm, nor threatening sky, nor thundering air,  
This wisdom is, good life, and worldly bliss,  
Kind teacheth us, nature commands us this.   

65  
Thus sung the spirit false, and stealing sleep  
(To which her tunes enticed his heavy eyes)  
By step and step did on his senses creep,  
Still every limb therein unmoved lies,  
Not thunders loud could from this slumber deep  
(Of quiet death true image) make him rise:  
Then from her ambush forth Armida start,  
Swearing revenge, and threatening torments smart.   

66  
But when she looked on his face a while,  
And saw how sweet he breathed, how still he lay,  
How his fair eyes though closed seem to smile,  
At first she stayed, astounded with great dismay,  
Then sat her down, so love can art beguile,  
And as she sat and looked fled fast away  
Her wrath, that on his forehead gazed the maid,  
As in his spring Narcissus tooting laid;   

67  
And with a vail she wiped now and than  
From his fair cheek, the globes of silver sweat,  
And cool air gathered with a trembling fan,  
To mitigate the rage of melting heat,  
Thus (who would think it) his hot eieglance can  
Of that cold frost dissolve the hardness great,  
Which late congealed the heart of that fair dame,  
Who late a foe, a lover now became.   

68  
Of wood-bines, lilies, and of roses sweet,  
Which proudly flowered through that wanton plain,  
All pletted fast, well knit, and joined meet,  
She framed a soft, but surely holding chain,  
Wherewith she bond his neck, his hands, and feet;  
Thus bound, thus taken did the prince remain,  
And in a coach which two old dragons drew,  
She laid the sleeping knight, and thence she flew:   

69  
Nor turned she to Damascus' kingdoms large,  
Nor to the fort builtin Asphaltes' lake,  
But jealous of her dear and precious charge,  
And of her love ashamed, the way did take  
To the wide Ocean, whither skiff or barge  
From us doth seld or never voyage make,  
And there to frolic with her love awhile,  
She chose a waste, a sole and desert isle.   

70  
An Isle that with her fellows bears the name  
Of fortunate, for temperate air and mould,  
There in a mountain high alight the dame,  
A hill obscured with shades of forests old,  
Upon whose sides the witch by art did frame  
Continual snow, sharp frost and winter could,  
But on the top, fresh, pleasant, sweet and green,  
Beside a lake a palace built this Queen.   

71  
There in perpetual, sweet and flowering spring  
She lives at ease, and joys her Lord at will;  
The hardy youth from this strange prison bring  
Your valours must, directed by my skill,  
And overcome each monster and each thing,  
That guards the palace, or that keeps the hill,  
Nor shall you want a guide, or engines fit,  
To bring you to the mount, or conquer it.   

72  
Beside the stream, I parted shall you find  
A dame, in visage young, but old in years,  
Her curled locks about her front are twined,  
A party coloured robe of silk she wears:  
This shall conduct you swift as air or wind,  
Or that flit bird that Ioues hot weapon bears,  
A faithful Pilot, cunning, trusty, sure,  
As Tiphis was, or skilful Palinure.   

73  
At the hills foot, whereon the Witch doth dwell  
The serpent's hiss, and cast their poison wild,  
The ugly bores do rear their bristles fell,  
There gape the bears, and roar the lions wild;  
But yet a rod I have can easily quell  
Their rage and wrath, and make them meek and mild.  
Yet on the top and height of all the hill,  
The greatest danger lies, and greatest ill:   

74  
There welleth out a fair, clear, bubbling spring,  
Whose waters pure the thirsty guests entice,  
But in those liquors cold the secret sting  
Of strange and deadly poison closed lies,  
One sup thereof the drinkers heart doth bring  
To sudden joy, whence laughter vain doth rise,  
Nor that strange merriment once stops or stays  
Till, with his laughters end, he end his days:   

75  
Then from those deadly, wicked streams refrain  
Your thirsty lips, despise the dainty cheer  
You find exposed upon the grassy plain,  
Nor those false damsels once vouchsafe to hear,  
That in melodious tunes their voices strain,  
Whose faces lovely, smiling, sweet, appear;  
But you their looks, their voice, their songs despise,  
And enter fair Armidaes' Paradise.   

76  
The house is builded like a maze within,  
With turning stairs, false doors and winding ways,  
The shape whereof plotted in velam thin  
I will you give, that all those sleights bewrays,  
In midst a garden lies, where many a gin  
And net to catch frail hearts, false Cupid lays;  
There in the verdure of the herbours green,  
With your brave champion lies the wanton Queen.   

77  
But when she haply riseth from the knight,  
And hath withdrawn her presence from the place,  
Then take a shield I have of dimonds bright,  
And hold the same before the youngman's face,  
That he may glass therein his garments light,  
And wanton soft attire, and view his case,  
That with the sight, shame and disdain may move  
His heart to leave that base and servile love.   

78  
Now resteth nought that needful is to tell,  
But that you go secure, safe, sure and bold,  
Unseen the palace may you enter well,  
And pass the dangers all I have foretold,  
For neither art, nor charm, nor magic spell  
Can stop your passage or your steps withhold,  
Nor shall Armida (so you guarded be)  
Your coming ought foreknow, or once foresee:   

79  
And ceke as safe from that enchanted fort  
You shall return, and scape unhurt away;  
But now the time doth us to rest exhort,  
And you must rise by peep of springing day.  
This said, he led them through a narrow port,  
Into a lodging fair wherein they lay,  
There glad and full of thoughts he left his guests,  
And in his wont bed the old man rests.    

The fifteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The well instructed knights forsake their host,  
And come where their strange bark in harbour lay,  
And setting sail beholdon Egypt's cost  
The monarchs ships and armies in array:  
Their wind and pilot good the seas in post  
They pass, and of long journeys make short way:  
The far sought isle they find; Armidaes' charms  
They scorn, they shun her sleights, despise her arms.   

1  
THE rosy fingered morn with gladsome ray,  
Rose to her task from old Tithonus lap,  
When their grave host came where the warriors lay,  
And with him brought the shield, the rod, the map,  
Arise (quoth he) ere lately broken day,  
In his bright arms the round world fold or wrap,  
All what I promised here, I have them brought,  
Enough to bring Armidaes' charms to nought.   

2  
They started up, and every tender limb  
In sturdy steel and stubborn plate they dight,  
Before the old man stalked, they followed him  
Through gloomy shades of sad and sable night,  
Through vaults obscure again and entries dim,  
The way they came their steps remeasurde right,  
But at the flood arrived, farewell (quoth he)  
Good luck your aid, your guide good fortune be.   

3  
The flood received them in his bottom low,  
And lift them up, above his billows thin;  
The waters so cast up a branch or bow,  
By violence first plunged and dived therein:  
But when upon the shore the waves them throw,  
The knights for their fair guide to look begin,  
And gazing round, a little bark they spied,  
Wherein a damsel sat the stern to guide;   

4  
Upon her front her locks were curled new,  
Her eyes were courteous, full of peace and love;  
In look a saint, an angel bright in show,  
So in her visage grace and virtue strove;  
Her robe seemed sometimes red, and sometimes blue,  
And changed still as she did stir or move;  
That look how oft man's eye beheild the same,  
So oft the colours changed, went and came.   

5  
The feathers so (that tender, soft and plain,  
About the doves smooth neck close couched been)  
Do in one colour never long remain,  
But change their hue, 'gainst glimpse of Phoebus' sheen;  
And now of rubies bright a vermile chain,  
Now make a carcanet rich of Emrauldes green;  
Now mingle both, now altar, turn and change  
To thousand colours, rich, pure, fair and strange.   

6  
Enter this boat, you happy men (she says)  
Wherein through raging waves secure I ride,  
To which all tempest, storm, and wind obeys,  
All burdens light, benign is stream and tide:  
My Lord (that rules your journeys and your ways)  
Hath sent me here, your servant and your guide,  
This said, her Shallop drove she 'gainst the sand,  
And anchor cast amid the steadfast land.   

7  
They entered in, her anchors she upwound,  
And launched forth to sea her pinnace flit,  
Spread to the wind her sails she broad unbound,  
And at the helm sat down to govern it,  
Swollen the flood that all his banks he drowned,  
To bear the greatest ship of burden fit;  
Yet was her frigate, little, swift and light,  
That at his lowest ebb bear it he might.   

8  
Swifter than thought the friendly wind forth bore  
The sliding boat, upon the rolling wave,  
With crudded foam, and froth the billows hoar  
About the cable murmur, roar and rave;  
At last they came where all his watery store,  
The flood in one deep channel did engrave,  
And forth to greedy seas his streams he sent,  
And so his waves, his name, himself, he spent.   

9  
The wondrous boat scant touched the troubled main,  
But all the sea still, hushed, and quiet was,  
Vanished the clouds, ceased the wind and rain,  
The tempests threatened overblow and pass,  
A gentle breathing air made even and plain  
The azure face of heavens smooth looking glass,  
And heaven itself, smiled from the skies above,  
(With a calm clearness) on the earth his love.   

10  
By Ascalon they failed, and forth drived,  
Towards the west their speedy course they frame,  
In sight of Gaza till the bark arrived,  
A little port when first it took that name;  
But since by others loss so well it thrived,  
A city great and rich that it became,  
And there the shores and borders of the land  
They found as full of armed men, as sand.   

11  
The passengers to landward turned their sight,  
And there saw pitched many a stately tent,  
Soldier and footman, captain, lord and knight,  
Between the shore and city, came and went:  
Huge elephants, strong camels, coursers light,  
With horned hooves the sandy ways out rend,  
And in the haven many a ship and boat,  
(With mighty anchores fastened) swim and float;)   

12  
Some spread their sails, some with strong owers sweep  
The waters smooth, and brush the buxom wave,  
Their breasts insunder cleave the yielding deep,  
The broken seas for anger foam and rave,  
When thus their guide began, sir knights take keep  
How all these shores are spread with squadrons brave,  
And troops of hardy knights, yet on these sands  
The monarch scant hath gathered half his bands.   

13  
Of Egypt only these the forces are,  
And aid from other lands they here attend,  
For twixt the noonday sun and morning star,  
All realms at his command do bow and bend;  
So that I trust we shall return from far,  
And bring our journey long to wished end,  
Before this (king or his lieutenant) shall  
These armies bring, to zions conquered wall.   

14  
While thus she said, as soaring eagles fly  
'mongst other birds, securely through the air,  
And mounting up behold with wakeful eye,  
The radiant beams of old Hiperious hair,  
Her gondelay so passed swiftly buy  
Twixt ship and ship, withouten fear, or cairo  
Who should her follow, trouble, stop or stay,  
And forth to sea made lucky speed and way.   

15  
Themselves forenenst old Raphias' town they found,  
A town that first to sailors doth appear,  
As they from Syria pass to Egypt land,  
The sterile coasts of barren Rinoceere  
They passed, and seas where Casius hill doth stand,  
That with his trees orespreads the waters near,  
Against whose roots breaketh the brackish wave,  
Where Jove his temple; Pompeie hath his grave.   

16  
Then Damiata next, where they behold  
How to the sea his tribute Nilus pays,  
By his seven mouths renowned in stories old,  
And by an hundredth more ignoble ways  
They passed the town built by the Grecian bold,  
Of him called Alexandria till our days,  
And Pharos tower and isle, removed of yore  
Far from the land, now joined to the shoer:   

17  
Both Crect and Rhodes they left by North unseen,  
And sailed along the coasts of Afrique lands,  
Whose sea towns fair, but realms more inward been  
All full of monsters and of desert sands,  
With her five cities than they left Cireene,  
Where that old temple of false Hammon stands:  
Next Prolemais, and that sacred wood  
Whence spring the silent streams of Lethe flood.   

18  
The greater Sirtes (that sailors often cast  
In peril great of death and loss extreme)  
They compassed round about, and safely passed,  
Then Cape Judeca and flood Magras stream;  
Then Tripoli, 'gainst which is Malta placed,  
That low and hid, to lurk in seas doth seam:  
The little Sirtes then, and Alzerbes isle,  
Where dwelled the folk that Lotos' eat erewhile.   

19  
Next Tunis on the crooked shore they spied,  
Whose bay a rock on either side defends,  
Tunis all towns in beauty, wealth and pride,  
Above, as far as Libias' bounds extends;  
'Gainst which (from fair Scicilias fertile side)  
His rugged front great Lilebenni bends,  
The Dame there pointed out where sometimes stoud,  
(Rome's stately rival whilom) Carthage proud,   

20  
Great Carthage low in ashes cold doth lie,  
Her ruins poor the herbs in height scant pass,  
So cities fall, so perish kingdoms high,  
Their pride and pomp lies hid in sand and grass:  
Then why should mortal man repine to die,  
Whose life, is air; breath, wind; and body, glass?  
From thence the seas next Biserts walls they cleft,  
And far Sardignia on their right hand left.   

21  
Numidia's mighty plains they coasted then,  
Where wandering shepherds used their flocks to feed,  
Then Bugia and Argiere, th'infamous den  
Of Pirates false, Oran they left with speed,  
All Tingitan they swiftly over-ren,  
Where Elephants and angry lions breed,  
Where now the realms of Fez and Marocke be,  
'Gainst which Granadoes shores and coasts they see.   

22  
Now are they there, where first the sea broke in  
By great Alcides' help (as stories feign)  
True may it be that where those floods begin  
It whilom was a firm and solid main,  
Before the sea there through did passage win,  
And parted Africa from the land of Spain,  
Abila hence, thence Calpe great up springs,  
Such power hath time to change the face of things.   

23  
Four times the sun had spread his morning ray,  
Since first the Dame launched forth her wandrous barge,  
And never yet took port in creak or bay,  
But fairly forward bore the knights her charge,  
Now through the straight her jolly ship made way,  
And boldly sailed upon the Ocean large;  
But if the sea in midst of earth was great,  
O what was this, wherein earth hath her seat?   

24  
Now deep engulphed in the mighty flood  
They saw not Gades, nor the mountains near,  
Fled was the land, and towns on land that stood,  
Heaven covered sea, sea seemed the heavens to bear,  
At last, fair Lady (quoth Ubaldo good)  
That in this endless main dost guide us hear,  
If ever man before here sailed, tell,  
Or other lands here be wherein men dwell.   

27  
Great Hercules (quoth she) when he had quailed  
The monsters fierce in Africa and in Spain,  
And all along your coasts and countries sailed,  
Yet durst he not assay the Ocean main,  
Within his pillours would he have impaild  
The over-daring wit of mankind vain,  
Till Lord Ulysses did those bounders pass,  
To see and know he so desirous was.   

26  
He passed those pillours, and in open wave  
Of the broad sea first his bold sails untwind,  
But yet the greedy Ocean was his grave,  
Nought helped him his skill 'gainst tide and wind,  
With him all witness of his voyage brave  
Lies buried there, no truth thereof we find,  
And they whom storm hath forced that way sense,  
Are drowned all, or unreturned from thence:   

27  
So that this mighty sea is yet unsought,  
Where thousand Isles and kingdoms lie unknown,  
Not void of men as some have vainly thought,  
But peopled well, and wonned like your own,  
The land is fertile ground, but scant well wrought,  
air, wholesome; temperate sun; grass proudly grown.  
But (quoth Ubaldo) dame, I pray thee teach  
Of that hid world, what be the laws and speech.   

28  
As divers be their nations (answered she)  
Their tongues, their rites, their laws so different are,  
Some pray to beasts, some to a stone or tree,  
Some to the earth, the sun, or morning star;  
Their meats unwholesome, vile and hateful be,  
Some eat man's flesh, and captives ta'en in war,  
And all from Calpes mountain west that dwell,  
In faith profane, in life are rude and fell.   

29  
But will our gracious God (the knight replied)  
(That with his blood all sinful men hath bought)  
His truth for ever and his gospel hide  
From all those lands, as yet unknown, unsought?  
O no (quoth she) his name both far and wide  
Shall there be known, all learning thither brought,  
Nor shall these long and tedious ways for ever  
Your world and theirs, their lands, your kingdoms sever.   

30  
The time shall come that sailors shall disdain  
To talk or argue of Alcides' street,  
And lands and seas that nameless yet remain,  
Shall well be known, their bounders, scite and seat,  
The ships encompass shall the solid main,  
As far as seas outstretch their waters great,  
And measure all the world, and with the sun  
About this earth, this globe, this compass, run.   

31  
A knight of Genes shall have the hardiment  
Upon this wondrous voyage first to wend,  
Nor winds nor waves, that ships insunder rend,  
Nor seas unused, strange clime or pool unkend,  
Nor other peril, nor astonishment  
That makes frail hearts of men to bow and bend,  
Within Abilas straight shall keep and hold,  
The noble spirit of this sailor bold.   

32  
Thy ship (Columbus) shall her canvas wing  
Spread over that world, that yet concealed lies,  
That scant swift fame her looks shall after bring,  
Though thousand plumes she have, and thousand eyes.  
Let her of Bacchus and Alcides sing,  
Of thee to future age let this suffies,  
That of thine acts she some forewarning give,  
Which shall in verse and noble story live.   

33  
Thus talking, swift twixt South and West they run,  
And sliced out twixtfroth and foam their way;  
At once they saw before, the setting sun;  
Behind, the rising beam of springing day;  
And when the morn her drops and dews begun  
To scatter broad upon the flowering lay,  
far off a hill and mountain high they spied,  
Whose top the clouds environ, cloth and hide;   

34  
And drawing near, the hill at ease they view,  
When all the clouds were melted, fallen and fled,  
Whose top pyramid wise did pointed show,  
High, narrow, sharp, the sides yet more outspred,  
Thence now and than fire, flame and smoke out flew,  
As from that hill, where under lies in bed  
Enceladus, whence with imperious sway  
Bright fire breaks out by night, black smoke by day.   

35  
About the hill lay other Islands small,  
Where other rocks, crags▪ cliffs, and mountains stood,  
Th'isles fortunate these elder time did call,  
To which high heaven they feigned so kind and good,  
And of his blessings rich so liberal,  
That without tillage earth gives corn for food,  
And grapes that swell with sweet and precious wine,  
There without pruning yields the fertile vine.   

36  
The olive fat there ever buds and flowers,  
The honey drops from hollow oaks distill,  
The falling brook her silver streams down powers,  
With gentle murmur from their native hill,  
The Western blast tempreth with dews and showers  
The sunny rays, lest heat the blossoms kill,  
The fields Elysian (as fond heathen sane)  
Were there, where souls of men in bliss remain.   

37  
To these their pilot steered, and now (quoth she)  
Your voyage long to end is brought well near,  
The happy isles of fortune now you see,  
Of which great fame, and little truth, you hear,  
Sweet, wholesome, pleasant, fertile, fat they be,  
Yet not so rich as fame reports they wear.  
This said, towards an island fresh she bore,  
The first of ten, that lies next Africkes' shore;   

38  
When Charles thus, if (worthy governess)  
To our good speed such tarriance be no let,  
Upon this isle that heaven so fair doth bless,  
(To view the place) on land a while us set,  
To know the folk, and what God they confess,  
And all whereby man's heart may knowledge get,  
That I may tell the wonders therein seen  
Another day, and say, there have I been.   

39  
She answ'red him, well fits this high desire  
Thy noble heart, yet cannot I consent,  
For heavens decree, firm, stable and entire,  
Thy wish repugns, and 'gainst thy will is bend,  
Nor yet the time hath Titan's gliding fire  
Met forth, prefixed for this discoverment,  
Nor is it lawful of the Ocean main  
That you the secrets know, or known explain.   

40  
To you withouten needle, map or card  
It's given to pass these seas, and there arrive  
Where in strong prison lies your knight imbard,  
And of her pray you must the witch deprive:  
If further to aspire you be prepared,  
In vain 'gainst fate and heavens decree you strive,  
While thus she said, the first seen isle gave place,  
And high and rough the second showed his face.   

41  
They saw how Eastward stretched in order long,  
The happy islands sweetly flowering lay;  
And how the seas betwixt those isle's inthrong,  
And how they shouldered land from land away:  
In seven of them the people rude among  
The shady trees, their sheds had built of clay,  
The rest lay waste, unless wild beasts unseen,  
Or wanton nymphs, roamed on the mountains green.   

42  
A secret place they found in one of those,  
Where the cloven shore, sea in his bosom takes,  
And twixt his stretched arms doth fold and close  
An ample Bay, a rock the haven makes,  
Which to the main doth his broad back oppose,  
Whereon the roaring billow cleaves and brakes,  
And here and there two crags like turrets hie,  
Point forth a port, to all that sail thereby:   

43  
The quiet seas below lie safe and still,  
The greenewood like a garland grows aloft,  
Sweet caves within, cool shades and waters shrill,  
Where lie the nymphs on moss and ivy soft;  
No anchor there needs hold her frigate still,  
Nor cabble twisted sure, though breaking oft:  
Into this desert, silent, quiet glade,  
Entered the dame, and there her haven made.   

44  
The palace proudly built (quoth she) behold,  
That sits on top of yonder mountains hight,  
Of Christ's true faith there lies the champion bold  
In idleness, love, fancy, folly, light;  
When Phoebus shall his rising beams unfold,  
Prepare you 'gainst the hill to mount upright,  
Nor let this stay in your bold hearts breed care,  
For, save that one, all hours unlucky are;   

45  
But yet this evening (if you make good speed)  
To that hills foot with daylight might you pass,  
Thus said, the Dame their guide, and they agreed,  
And took their leave, and leapt forth on the grass,  
They found the way that to the hill doth lead,  
And softly went that neither tired was,  
But at the mountains foot they both arrived,  
Before the sun his team in waters dived.   

46  
They saw how from the crags and cliffs below  
His proud and stately pleasant top grew out,  
And how his sides were clad with frost and snow,  
The height was green with herbs and flowrets sout,  
Like hairy locks the trees about him grow,  
The rocks of ice keep watch and ward about,  
The tender roses and the lilies new,  
Thus art can nature change, and kind subdue.   

47  
Within a thick, a dark and shady plot,  
At the hills foot that night the warriors dwell,  
But when the sun his rays bright shining, hot,  
Dispred, of golden light th'eternal well,  
Up, up, they cried, and fiercely up they got,  
And climbed boldly 'gainst the mountain fell;  
But forth there crept (from whence I cannot say)  
An ugly serpent, which forestalled their way,   

48  
Armed with golden scales his head and crest  
He lifted high, his neck swelled great with ire,  
Flamed his eyes, and hiding with his breast  
All the broad path, he poison breathed and fire,  
Now reached he forth in folds and forward priest,  
Now would he back in rolls and heaps retire,  
Thus he presents himself to guard the place,  
The knights pressed forward with assured pace:   

49  
Charles drew forth his brand to strike the snake;  
Ubaldo cried, stay my companion dear,  
Will you with sword or weapon battle make  
Against this monster that affronts us hear?  
This said, he 'gan his charmed rod to shake,  
So that the serpent durst not hiss for fear,  
But fled, and dead for dread, fell on the grass,  
And so the passage plain, each, open was.   

50  
A little higher on the way they met  
A lion fierce, that hugely roared and cried,  
His crest he reared high, and open set  
Of his broad gaping jaws the furnace wide,  
His stern his back oft smote his rage to whet;  
But when the sacred staff he once espied,  
A trembling fear through his bold heart was spread,  
His native wrath was gone, and swift he fled.   

51  
The hardy couple on their way forth wend,  
And met an host that on them roar and gape,  
Of savage beasts, tofore unseen, unkend,  
Differing in voice, in semblance and in shape;  
All monsters which hot Africa doth forth send,  
Twixt Nilus, Atlas, and the Southern cape,  
Were all there met, and all wild beasts beside,  
Hyrcania breeds, or Hircane forests hides.   

52  
But yet that fierce, that strange and savage host,  
Can not in presence of those worthies stand,  
But fled away, their heart and courage lost,  
When Lord Ubaldo shook his charming wand,  
No other let their passage stopped or crossed,  
Till on the mountains top themselves they found,  
Save that the ice, the frost, and drifted snow,  
Oft made them feeble, weary, faint and slow,   

53  
But having passed all that frozen ground,  
And overgone that winter sharp and keen,  
A warm, mild, pleasant, gentle sky they found,  
That overspread a large and ample green,  
The winds breathed Spikenard, myrrh and balm around,  
The blasts there firm, unchanged, stable been,  
Nor as elsewhere the winds now rise now fall,  
And Phoebus there aye shines, sets not at all.   

54  
Not as elsewhere now sunshine bright, now showers,  
Now heat, now cold, there interchanged wear,  
But everlasting spring mild heaven down powers,  
In which nor rain, nor storm, nor clouds appear,  
Nursing to fields, their grass; to grass, his flowers;  
To flowers, their smell; to trees, the leaves they bear;  
There by a lake a stately palace stands,  
That overlookes all mountains, seas and lands:   

55  
The passage hard against the mountain steep,  
These travailers had faint and weary maid,  
That through those grassy plains they scantly creep,  
They walked, they rested oft; they went, they staid,  
When from the rocks that seemed for joy to weep,  
Before their feet a dropping crystal played,  
Enticing them to drink, and on the flowers  
The plenteous spring a thousand streams down powers.   

56  
All which united in the springing grass,  
Eat forth a channel through the tender green,  
And underneath eternal shade did pass,  
With murmur shrill, cold, pure, and scantly seen;  
Yet so transparent that perceived was  
The bottom rich, and sands that golden been,  
And on the brims the silken grass aloft  
Proffered them seats, sweet, easy, fresh and soft.   

57  
See hear the stream of laughter, see the spring  
(Quoth they) of danger and of deadly pain,  
Hear fond desire must by fair governing  
Be ruled, our lust bridled with wisdoms rain,  
Our ears be stopped while these Sirens sing,  
Their notes enticing man to pleasure vain.  
Thus passed they forward where the stream did make  
An ample pond, a large and spacious lake;   

58  
There on a table was all dainty food  
That sea, that earth, or liquid air could give,  
And in the crystal of the laughing flood,  
They saw two naked virgins bathe and dive,  
That sometimes toying, sometimes wrestling stood,  
Sometimes for speed and skill in swimming strive,  
Now underneath they diude, now rose above,  
And tising baits laid forth of lust and love.   

59  
These naked wantoness, tender, fair and white,  
Moved so far the warriors stubborn hearts,  
That on their shapes they gazed with delight;  
The nymphs applied their sweet alluring arts,  
And one of them above the waters quite,  
Lift up her head, her breasts, and higher parts,  
And all that might weak eyes subdue and take,  
Her lower beauties veiled the gentle lake.   

60  
As when the morning star escaped and fled,  
From greedy waves with dewy beams up flies,  
Or as the Queen of love, new borne and bred  
Of th'ocean's fruitful froth, did first arise:  
So vented she, her golden locks forth shed  
Round pearls and crystal moist therein which lies:  
But when her eyes upon the knights she cast  
She start, and feigned her of their sight aghast.   

61  
And her fair locks, that on a knot were tied  
High on her crown, she 'gan at large unfold;  
Which falling long and thick, and spreading wide,  
The ivory soft and white, mantled in gold:  
Thus her fair skin the dame would clothe and hide,  
And that which hide it no less fair was hold;  
Thus clad in waves and locks, her eyes divine  
From them ashamed did she turn and twine.   

62  
With all she smiled, and she blushed withal,  
Her blush, her smiling; smiles, her blushing graced:  
Over her face her amber tresses fall,  
Where under love himself in ambush placed:  
At last she warbled forth a triple small,  
And with sweet looks, her sweet songs interlaced;  
O happy men! that have the grace (quoth she)  
This bliss, this heaven, this paradise to see.   

63  
This is the place wherein you may assuage  
Your sorrows past, here is that joy and bliss,  
That flourished in the antic golden age,  
Here needs no law, here none doth aught amiss,  
Put off those arms and fear not Mars his rage,  
Your sword, your shield, your helmet needless is:  
Then consecrate them here to endless rest,  
You shall loves champions be, and soldiers blest.   

64  
The fields for combat here are beds of down,  
Or heaped lilies under shady brakes;  
But come and see our Queen with golden crown,  
That all her servants blest and happy makes,  
She will admit you gently for her own,  
Numbered with those that of her joy partakes:  
But first within this lake your dust and sweat  
Wash off, and at that table sit and eat.   

65  
While thus she sung, her sister lured them nigh  
With many a gesture kind and loving show,  
To musics sound as dames in court apply  
Their cunning feet, and dance now swift now slow;  
But still the knights unmoved passed buy,  
These vain delights for wicked charms they know,  
Nor could their heavenly voice or angels look  
Surprise their hearts, if eye or ear they took.   

66  
For if that sweetness once but touched their hearts,  
And proffered there to kindle Cupid's fire,  
Strait armed reason to his charge upstarts,  
And quencheth lust, and killeth fond desire;  
Thus scorned were the dames, their wiles and arts:  
And to the palace gates the knights retire,  
While in their streams the damsels dived sad,  
Ashamed, disgraced, for that repulse they had.    

The sixteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The searchers pass through all the palace bright,  
Where in sweet prison lies Rinaldo penned,  
And do so much, that full of rage and spite,  
With them he goes sad, shamed, discontent:  
With plaints and prayers to retain her knight  
Armida strives; he hears, but thence he went,  
And she forlorn her palace great and fair  
Destroys for grief, and flies thence through the air.   

1  
THE palace great is builded rich and round,  
And in the centre of the inmost hold,  
There lies a garden sweet, on fertile ground,  
Fairer than that where grew the trees of gold:  
The cunning spirits had buildings reared around,  
With doors and entries false a thousand fold,  
A labyrinth they made that fortress brave,  
Like Dedals prison or Porsenna's grave.   

2  
The knights passed through the castles largest gate,  
(Though round about an hundredth ports there shine)  
The door leaves framed of carved silver plate,  
Upon their golden hinges turn and twine,  
They stayed to view this work of wit and state,  
The workmanship excelled the substance fine,  
For all the shapes in that rich metal wrought,  
Save speech, of living bodies wanted nought.   

3  
Alcides there sat telling tales, and spun  
Among the feeble troops of damsels mild,  
He that the fiery gates of hell had won,  
And heaven upheld; false love stood by and smiled:  
Armed with his club fair Jolee forth run,  
His club with blood of monsters foul defiled,  
And on her back his lion's skin had she,  
Too rough a bark for such a tender tree.   

4  
Beyond, was made a sea, whose azure flood  
The hoary froth crushed from the surges blue,  
Wherein two navies great well ranged stood  
Of warlike ships, fire from their arms out flew,  
The waters burnt about their vessels good,  
Such flames the gold therein enchased threw,  
Caesar his Romans' hence, the Asian kings  
Thence Antony, and Indian princes brings.   

5  
The Cyclades seemed to swim amid the main,  
And hill 'gainst hill, and mount 'gainst mountain smote,  
With such great fury met those armies twain,  
Here burnt a ship, there sunk a bark or boat,  
Here darts and wildfire flew, there drowned or slain  
Of princes dead, the body's fleet and float;  
Here Caesar wins, and yonder conquered been  
The eastren ships, there fled th'Egyptian Queen:   

6  
Antonius eke himself to flight betook,  
The Empire lost to which he would aspire,  
Yet fled not he, nor fight for fear forsook,  
But followed her, drawn on by fond desire:  
Well might you see within his troubled look,  
Strive and contend, love, courage, shame and ire;  
Oft looked he backed, oft gaz'de he on the fight,  
But oftener on his mistress and her flight:   

7  
Then in the secret creeks of fruitful Nile,  
Cast in her lap, he would sad death awate,  
And in the pleasure of her lovely smile,  
Sweeten the bitter stroke of cursed fate,  
All this did art with curious hand compile  
In the rich metal of that princely gate.  
The knights these stories viewed first and last,  
Which seen, they forward pressed, and in they passed:   

8  
As through his channel crooked Meander glides  
With turns and twines, and rowles now to now fro,  
Whose streams run forth there to the salt sea sides,  
Here back return, and to their springward go:  
Such crooked paths, such ways this palace hides;  
Yet all the maze their map described so,  
That through the labyrinth they got in fine,  
As Theseus did by Ariadnaies' line.   

9  
When they had passed all those troubled ways,  
The garden sweet spread forth her green to show,  
The moving crystal from the fountains plays,  
Fair trees, high plants, strange herbs and flowrets new,  
Sunshinie hills, dales hid from Phoebus' rays,  
Groves, arbours, mossy caves at once they view,  
And that which beauty most, most wonder brought,  
No where appeared the art which all this wrought.   

10  
So with the rude the polished mingled was,  
That natural seemed all, and every part,  
Nature would craft in counterfeiting pass,  
And imitate her imitator art:  
Mild was the air, the skies were clear as glass,  
The trees no whirlwind felt, not tempest smart,  
But ere their fruit drop off, the blossom comes,  
This springs, that falls, that ripeneth, and this blomes.   

11  
The leaves upon the self-same bow did hide,  
Beside the young the old and ripened fig,  
Here fruit was green, there ripe with vermile side,  
The apples new and old grew on one twig,  
The fruitful vine her arms spread high and wide,  
That bended underneath their clusters big,  
The grapes were tender here, hard, young and sour,  
There purple, ripe, and nectar sweet forth power.   

12  
The joyous birds, hid under greenewood shade,  
Sung merry notes on every branch and bow,  
The wind (that in the leaves and waters played)  
With murmur sweet, now song, and whistled now,  
Ceased the birds, the wind loud answer made:  
And while they sung, it rumbled soft and low;  
Thus, were it hap or cunning, chance or art,  
The wind in this strange music bore his part.   

13  
With party coloured plumes and purple bill,  
A wondrous bird among the rest there flew,  
That in plain speech sung lovelaies loud and shrill,  
Her leden was like humane language true,  
So much she talked and with such wit and skill,  
That strange it seemed how much good she knew,  
Her feathered fellows all stood hushed to hear,  
Dumb was the wind, the waters silent wear.   

14  
The gently budding rose (quoth she) behold,  
That first scant peeping forth with virgin beams,  
Half open, half shut, her beauties doth upfold  
In their dear leaves, and less seen, fairer seams,  
And after spreeds them forth more broad and bold,  
Then languisheth and dies in last extremes,  
Nor seems the same, that decked bed and bower  
Of many a Lady late, and paramour:   

15  
So, in the passing of a day, doth pass  
The bud and blossom of the life of man,  
Nor ere doth flourish more, but like the grass  
Cut down, becometh withered, pale and wan:  
O gather then the rose while time thou has,  
Short is the day, done when it scant began,  
Gather the rose of love, while yet thou mast  
Loving, be loved; embracing, be embraced.   

16  
He ceased, and as approving all he spoke,  
The choir of birds their heavenly tunes renew,  
The turtles sighed, and sighs with kisses broke,  
The fowls to shades unseen, by pairs, withdrew;  
It seemed the laurel chaste, and stubborn oak,  
And all the gentle trees on earth that grew,  
It seemed the land, the sea, and heaven above,  
All breathed out fancy sweet, and sighed out love.   

17  
Through all this music rare, and strong consent  
Of strange allurements, sweet 'bove mean and measure,  
Severe, firm, constant, still the knights forth went,  
Hardening their hearts 'gainst false enticing pleasure,  
Twixt leaf and leaf, their sight before they sent,  
And after crept themselves at ease and leisure,  
Till they beheld the Queen, set with their knight  
Besides the lake, shaded with bows from sight:   

18  
Her breasts were naked, for the day was hot,  
Her locks unbound, waved in the wanton wind;  
somedeal she sweat (tired with the game you wots)  
Her sweat-drops bright, white, round, like pearls of Ind,  
Her humid eyes a fiery smile forth shot,  
That like sunbeams in silver fountains shined,  
o'er him her looks she hung, and her soft breast  
The pillow was, where he and love took rest.   

19  
His hungry eyes upon her face he fed,  
And feeding them so, pined himself away;  
And she, declining often down her head,  
His lips, his cheeks, his eyes kissed, as he lay,  
Wherewith he sighed, as if his soul had fled  
From his frail breast to hers, and there would stay  
With her beloved spirit, the armed pare  
These follies all beheld and this hot fare.   

20  
Down by the lovers side there pendant was  
A crystal mirror, bright, pure, smooth and neat,  
He rose and to his mistress held the glass,  
(A noble Page, graced with that service great)  
She, with glad looks; he with inflamed (alas)  
Beauty and love beheld, both in one seat;  
Yet them in sundry objects each espies,  
She, in the glass; he, saw them in her eyes:   

21  
Her, to command; to serve, it pleased the knight;  
He proud of bondage; of her Empire, she;  
My dear (she said) that blessest with thy sight  
Even blessed Angels, turn thine eyes to me,  
For painted in my heart and purtraied right  
Thy worth, thy beauties, and perfections be,  
Of which the form, the shape, and fashion best,  
Not in this glass is seen, but in my breast.   

22  
And if thou me disdain, yet be content  
At least so to behold thy lovely hue,  
That while thereon thy looks are fixed and bend,  
Thy happy eyes themselves may see and view;  
So rare a shape, no crystal can present,  
No glass contain that heaven of beauties true;  
O let the skies thy worthy mirror be!  
And in clear stars thy shape and image see.   

23  
And with that word she smiled, and ne'ertheless  
Her love-toys still she used, and pleasures bold:  
Her hair that done she twisted up in tress,  
And loser locks in silken laces rolled,  
Her curls garland wise she did updresse,  
Wherein (like rich enamel laid on gold,)  
The twisted flowrets smiled, and her white breast  
The lilies (there that spring) with Roses dressed.   

24  
The jolly peacock spreeds not half so fair,  
The eyed feathers of his pompous train;  
Nor golden Iris so bends in the air  
Her twenty coloured bow, through clouds of rain:  
Yet all her ornaments, strange, rich and raire,  
Her girdle did in price and beauty stain,  
Not that (with scorn) which Tuscan Guilla lost;  
Nor Venus' Ceston, could match this for cost.   

25  
Of mild denays, of tender scorns, of sweet  
Repulses, war, peace, hope, despair, joy, fear,  
Of smiles, jests, mirth, woe, grief, and sad regreet;  
Sighs, sorrows, tears, embracements, kisses dear,  
That mixed first by weight and measure meet,  
Then at an easy fire attempered wear;  
This wondrous girdle did Armida frame,  
And (when she would be loved) wore the same.   

26  
But when her wooing fit was brought to end,  
She congee took, kissed him, and went her way;  
For once she used every day to wend  
'Bout her affairs, her spells and charms to say:  
The youth remained, yet had no power to bend  
One step from thence, but used there to stray  
'mongst the sweet birds, through every walk & grove,  
Alone, save for an hermit false called love.   

27  
And when the silence deep and friendly shaide  
Recalled the lovers to their wont sport,  
In affair room, for pleasure built, they laid,  
And longest nights with joys made sweet and short.  
Now while the Queen her household things surveyed,  
And left her Lord, her garden, and disport,  
The twain that hidden in the bushes wear,  
Before the Prince in glistering arms appear:   

28  
As the fierce stead for age withdrawn from war,  
Wherein the glorious beast had always won,  
That in vile rest from fight sequestered far,  
Feeds with the mares at large, his service done,  
If arms he see, or hear the trumpets jar,  
He neieth loud, and thither fast doth run,  
And wisheth on his back the armed knight,  
Longing for jousts, for tournament and fight:   

29  
So fared Rinaldo when the glorious light  
Of their bright harness glistered in his eyes,  
His noble spirit awaked at that sight,  
His blood began to warm, his heart to rise,  
Though drunk with ease devoid of wont might,  
On sleep till then his weakened virtue lies,  
Ubaldo forward stepped, and to him held  
Of dimonds clear, that pure and precious shield.   

30  
Upon the targe his looks amazed he bent,  
And therein all his wanton habit spied,  
His civet, balm, and perfumes redolent,  
How from his locks they smoked, and mantle wide,  
His sword that many a Pagan stout had shent,  
Bewrapt with flowers, hung idly by his side,  
So nicely decked, that it seemed the knight  
Wore it for fashion sake, but not for fight.   

31  
As when from sleep and idle dreams abraid  
A man awaked, calls home his wits again;  
So in beholding his attire he played,  
But yet to view himself could not sustain,  
His looks he downward cast, and nought he said,  
Grieved, shamed, sad, he would have died feign,  
And oft he wished the earth or Ocean wide  
Would swallow him, and so his errors hide.   

32  
Ubaldo took the time, and thus begun,  
All Europe now and Asia be in war,  
And all that Christ adore, and fame have won,  
In battle strong, in Syria fight are;  
But thee alone (Bertoldoes' noble son)  
This little corner keeps, exiled far  
From all the world, buried in sloth and shame,  
A carpet champion for a wanton dame.   

33  
What letharge hath in drowsiness uppend  
Thy courage thus? what sloth doth thee infect?  
Up, up, our camp and Godfrey for thee send,  
Thee fortune, praise, and victory expect,  
Come fatal champion, bring to happy end  
This enterprise begun, and all that sect,  
(Which oft thou shaken haste) to earth full low  
With thy sharp brand, strike down, kill, overthrow.   

34  
This said, the noble infant stood a space  
Confused, speechless, senseless, ill ashamed;  
But when that shame to just disdain gave place,  
To fierce disdain, from courage sprung untamed,  
Another redness blushed through his face,  
Whence worthy anger shone, displeasure flamed,  
His nice attire in scorn he rend and tore,  
For of his bondage vile that witness bore;   

35  
That done, he hasted from the charmed fort,  
And through the maze passed with his searchers twain.  
Armida of her mount and chiefest port  
Wondered to find the furious keeper slain,  
A while she feared, but she knew in short  
That her dear Lord was fled, then saw she plain  
(Ah woeful sight!) how from her gates the man  
In haste, in fear, in wrath, in anger ran.   

36  
Whither O cruel, leav'st thou me alone?  
She would have cried, her grief her speeches stayed,  
So that her woeful words are backward gone,  
And in her heart a bitter echo maid,  
Poor soul, of greater skill than she was one  
Whose knowledge from her thus her joy conveyed,  
This witted she well, yet had desire to prove  
If art could keep, if charms recall her love.   

37  
All what the witches of Thessalia land  
With lips unpure yet ever said or spoke,  
Words that could make heavens rolling circles stand,  
And draw the damned ghosts from Limbo lake,  
All well she knew, but yet no time she found  
To use her knowledge, or her charms to make,  
But left her arts, and forth she ran to prove,  
If single beauty were best charm for love.   

38  
She ran, nor of her honour took regard,  
Oh where be all her vaunts and triumphs now?  
loves Empire great of late she made or marred,  
To her his subjects humbly bend and bow,  
And with her pride mixed was a scorn so hard,  
That to be loved, she loved, yet whilst they wow  
Her lovers all she hates, that pleased her will,  
To conquer men, and conquered so, to kill.   

39  
But now herself, disdained, abandoned,  
Ran after him, that from her fled in scorn,  
And her despised beauty laboured,  
With humble plaints and prayers, to adorn;  
She ran, and hasted after him that fled,  
Through frost and snow, through brier, bush, and thorn,  
And sent her cries on message her before,  
That reached not him, till he had reached the shore:   

40  
O thou that leav'st but half behind (quoth she)  
Of my poor heart, and half with thee dost carry,  
O take this part, or render that to me,  
Else kill them both at once, ah tarry, tarry:  
Hear my last words, no parting kiss of thee  
I crave, for some more fit with thee to marry  
Keep them (unkind) what fearest thou if thou stay?  
Thou May'st deny, as well as run away.   

41  
At this Rinaldo stopped, stood still, and stayed,  
She came, sad, breathless, weary, faint, and weak,  
So woe begun was never Nymph or maid;  
And yet her beauty's pride grief could not break,  
On him she looked, she gas'd, but nought she said,  
She would not, could not, or she durst not speak,  
At her he looked not, glanced not, if he did,  
Those glances shamefast were, close, secret, hid.   

42  
As cunning singers, ere they strain on high,  
In loud melodious tunes, their gentle voice,  
Prepare the hearer's ears to harmony,  
With feign sweet, low notes, and warbles choice:  
So she, not having yet forgot perdie  
Her wonted shifts and sleights in Cupid's toys,  
A sequence first of sighs and sobs forth cast,  
To breed compassion dear, than spoke at last.   

43  
Suppose not (cruel) that I come to wow,  
Or pray, as Ladies do their loves and Lords;  
Such were we late, if thou disdain it now,  
Or scorn to grant such grace as love affords,  
At least yet as an enemy listen thou,  
Sworn foes sometime will talk, and chaffer words,  
For what I ask thee, Mayst thou grant right well,  
And lessen nought thy wrath and anger fell.   

44  
If me thou hate, and in that hate delight,  
I come not to appease thee, hate me still,  
It's like for like; I bore great hate and spite  
'Gainst Christians all, chief I wished thee ill:  
I was a Pagan borne, and all my might  
Against Godfredo bend, mine art and skill,  
I followed thee, took thee, and bore thee far  
To this strange isle, and kept thee safe from war:   

45  
And more, which more thy hate may justly move,  
More to thy loss, more to thy shame and grief,  
I thee enchanted and allured to love,  
Wicked deceit, craft worthy sharp reprieve,  
Mine honour gave I thee all gifts above,  
And of my beauties made thee Lord and chief,  
And to my suitors old what I denayed,  
That gave I thee (my lover new) unpraid.   

46  
But reckon that among my faults, and let  
Those many wrongs provoke thee so to wrath,  
That hence thou run, and that at nought thou set  
This pleasant house, so many joys which hath;  
Go, travail, pass the seas, fight, conquest get,  
Destroy our faith, what shall I say our faith?  
Ah no! no longer ours, before thy shrine  
Alone I pray, thou cruel saint of mine,   

47  
All only let me go with thee (unkind)  
A small request although I were thy foe,  
The spoiler seldom leaves the pray behind,  
Who triumphs lets his captives with him go,  
Among thy prisoners poor Armida bind,  
And let the camp increase thy praises so,  
That thy beguiler so thou couldst beguile,  
And point at me, thy thrall and bondslave vile.   

48  
Despised bondslave, since my Lord doth hate  
These locks, why keep I them or hold them dear?  
Come cut them off, that to my servile state  
My habit answer may, and all my gear:  
I follow thee in spite of death and fate  
Through battles fierce where dangers most appear,  
Courage I have and strength enough (perchance)  
To lead thy courser spare, and bear thy lance:   

49  
I will or bear, or be myself, thy shield,  
And to defend thy life, will lose mine own:  
This breast, this bosom soft, shall be thy bield  
'Gainst storms of arrows, darts and weapons thrown;  
Thy foes perdie encountering thee in field,  
Will spare to strike thee (mine affection known)  
Lest me they wound, nor will sharp vengeance take  
On thee, for this despised beauties sake.   

50  
O wretch! dare I still vaunt, or help invoke  
From this poor beauty, scorned and disdained?  
She said no more, her tears her speeches broke,  
Which from her eyes like streams from springs down reigned:  
She would have caught him by the hand or cloak,  
But he stepped backward, and himself restrained,  
Conquered his will, his heart ruth soft'ned not,  
There plaints no issue; love, no entrance got.   

51  
Love entered not to kindle in his breast  
(Which reason late had quenched) his wont flame;  
Yet entered pity in the place at lest:  
loves sister, but a chaste and sober dame,  
And stirred him so, that hardly he suppressed  
The springing tears that to his eyes up came;  
But yet even there his plaints repressed wear,  
And (as he could) he looked, and feigned cheer.   

52  
Madam (quoth he) for your distress I grieve,  
And would amend it, if I might or could,  
From your wise heart that fond affection drive:  
I cannot hate nor scorn you though I would,  
I seek no vengeance, wrongs I all forgive,  
Nor you my servant, nor my foe I hold,  
Truth is, you err'de, and your estate forgot,  
Too great your hate was, and your love too hot.   

53  
But those are common faults, and faults of kind,  
Excused by nature, by your sex and years;  
I erred likewise, if I pardon find,  
None can condemn you, that our trespass hears,  
Your dear remembrance will I keep in mind,  
In ioes, in woes, in comforts, hopes and fears,  
Call me your soldier and your knight, as far  
As Christian faith permits, and Asia's war.   

54  
Ah let our faults and follies here take end,  
And let our errors past you satisfy,  
And in this Angle of the world ipend,  
Let both the fame and shame thereof, now die,  
From all the earth where I am known and kend  
I wish this fact should still concealed lie:  
Nor yet in following me poor knight, disgrace  
Your worth; your beauty, and your princely race.   

55  
Stay here in peace, I go, nor wend you may  
With me, my guide your fellowship denies,  
Stay here or hence depart some better way,  
And calm your thoughts, you are both sage and wise.  
While thus he spoke, her passions found no stay,  
But here and there she turned and rolled her eyes,  
And staring on his face a while, at last  
Thus in foul terms, her bitter wrath forth braced.   

56  
Of Sophia fair thou never wert the child,  
Nor of the Azzaine race isprong thou art,  
The mad sea waves thee bore, some tigress wild  
On Caucasus cold crags, nursed thee apart;  
Ah cruel man! in whom no token mild  
Appears, of pity, ruth, or tender heart,  
Can not my griefs, my woes, my plaints and all  
One sigh strain from thy breast, one tear make fall?   

57  
What shall I say, or how renew my speech?  
He scorns me, leaves me, bids me call him mine:  
The victor hath his foe within his reach;  
Yet pardons her, that merits death and pine;  
Hear how he counsels me, how he 'gan preach  
(Like chaste Xenocrates) 'gainst love divine;  
Oh heavens, oh gods! why do these men of shame,  
Thus spoil your Temples, and blaspheme your name?   

58  
Go cruel, go, go with such peace, such rest,  
Such joy, such comfort, as thou leav'st me hear:  
My angry soul discharged from this weak breast,  
Shall haunt thee ever and attend thee near,  
And fury like in snakes and fire brands dressed,  
Shall aye torment thee, whom it late held dear:  
And if thou scape the seas, the rocks and sands,  
And come to fight amid the Pagan bands,   

59  
There lying wounded, 'mongst the hurt and slain,  
Of these my wrongs thou shalt the vengeance bear,  
And oft Armida shalt thou call in vain,  
At thy last gasp; this hope I soon to hear:  
Hear fainted she, with sorrow grief and pain,  
Her latest words scant well expressed were,  
But in a swoon on earth outstretched she lies,  
Stiff were her frozen limbs, closed were her eyes.   

60  
Thou closed thine eyes (Armida) heaven envied  
Ease to thy grief, or comfort to thy woe;  
Ah, open them again, see tears down slide  
From his kind eyes, whom thou esteems thy foe,  
If thou hadst heard, his sighs had mollifide  
Thine anger hard, he sighed and mourned so;  
And as he could with sad and rueful look  
His leave of thee, and last farewell he took.   

61  
What should he do? Leave on the naked sand  
This woeful Lady half alive, half dead?  
Kindness forbade, pity did that withstand;  
But hard constraint (alas) did thence him lead;  
Away he went, the west wind blue from land  
'mongst the rich tresses of their pilots head,  
And with that golden sail the waves she cleft,  
To land he looked, till land unseen he left.   

62  
Waked from her trance, forsaken, speechless sad,  
Armida wildly stared, and gas'd about,  
And is he gone (quoth she) nor pity had  
To leave me thus twixt life and death in doubt?  
Can he not stay? could not the traitor lad  
From this last trance help or recall me out?  
And do I love him still, and on this sand  
Still unrevengde, still mourn, still weeping stand?   

63  
Fie no, complaints farewell, with arms and art  
I will pursue to death this spiteful knight,  
Not earths low centre, nor seas deepest part,  
Nor heaven, nor hell, can shield him from my might,  
I will o'ertake him, take him, cleave his heart,  
Such vengeance fits a wronged lovers spite,  
In cruelty that cruel knight surpass  
I will, but what avail vain words, alas?   

64  
O fool! thou shouldest have been cruel than,  
(For than this cruel well deserved thine ire)  
When thou in prison hadst entrapped the man,  
Now dead with cold, too late thou askest fire;  
But though my wit, my cunning nothing can,  
Some other means shall work my heart's desire,  
To thee (my beauty) thine be all these wrongs,  
Vengeance to thee, to thee revenge belongs.   

65  
Thou shalt be his reward, with murdering brand  
That dare this traitor of his head deprive,  
O you my lovers, on this rock doth stand  
The castle of her love, for whom you strive,  
I, thee sole heir of all Damascus land,  
For this revenge myself and kingdom give,  
If by this price my will I cannot gain,  
Nature, gives beauty; fortune, wealth in vain.   

66  
But thee vain gift (vain beauty) thee I scorn,  
I hate the kingdom, which I have to give,  
I hate myself, and rue that I was borne,  
Only in hope of sweet revenge I live,  
Thus raging with fell ire she 'gan return  
From that bare shore in haste, and homeward drive,  
And as true witness of her frantic ire,  
Her locks waved lose, face shone, eyes sparkled fire.   

67  
When she came home, she called with outcries shrill,  
A thousand devils in Limbo deep that won,  
Black clouds the skies with horrid darkness fill,  
And pale for dread became th'eclipsed son,  
The whirlwind blustered big on every hill,  
And hell to roar under her feet begun,  
You might have heard how through the palace wide,  
Some spirits howld, some barked, some hist, some cried.   

68  
A shadow, blacker than the mirkest night,  
Environed all the place, with darkness sad,  
Wherein a firebrand gave a dreadful light,  
Kindled in hell by Tisiphone the mad;  
Vanished the shade, the sun appeared in sight,  
Pale were his beams, the air was nothing glad,  
And all the palace vanished was and gone,  
Nor of so great a work was left one stone.   

69  
As oft the clouds frame shapes of castles great  
Amid the air, that little time do last,  
But are dissolved by wind or Titan's heat;  
Or like vain dreams soon made, and sooner past:  
The palace vanished so, nor in his seat  
Left aught, but rocks and crags, by kind there placed;  
She in her coach which two old serpents drew,  
Sat down, and as she used, away she flew.   

70  
She broke the clouds, and cloven the yielding sky,  
And 'bout her gathered tempest, storm, and wind,  
The lands that view the south pole flew she buy,  
And left those unknown countries far behind,  
The straits of Hercules she passed, which lie  
Twixt Spain and Africa, nor her flight inclined  
To north or south, but still did forward ride  
Over seas and streams, till Syrias coasts she spied:   

71  
Nor went she forward to Damascus' fair,  
But of her country dear she fled the sight,  
And guided to Asphaltes' lake her chair,  
Where stood her castle, there she ends her flight,  
And from her damsels far, she made repair  
To a deep vault, far from resort and light,  
Where in sad thoughts a thousand doubts she cast,  
Till grief and shame, to wrath gave place at last.   

72  
I will not hence (quoth she) till Egypt's lord  
In aid of zions king, his host shall move;  
Then will I use all helps that charms afford,  
And change my shape, or sex if so behove:  
Well can I handle bow, or lance, or sword,  
The worthies all will aid me, for my love:  
I seek revenge, and to obtain the same,  
Farewell regard of honour, farewell shame.   

73  
Nor let mine uncle and protector me  
Reprove for this, he most deserves the blame,  
My heart and sex (that weak and tender be)  
He bent to deeds, that maidens evil became;  
His niece a wandering damsel first made he,  
He spurred my youth, and I cast off my shame,  
His be the fault, if ought 'gainst mine estate  
I did for love, or shall commit for hate.   

74  
This said, her knights, her ladies, pages, squires  
She all assembleth, and for journey fit,  
In such fair arms and vestures them attires,  
As show'd her wealth, and well declared her wit;  
And forward marched, full of strange desires,  
Nor rested she by day or night one whit,  
Till she came there, where all the eastren bands,  
Their kings and princes, lay on Gazaes' sands.    

The seventeenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Egypt's great host in battle ray forth brought,  
The Caliph sends with Godfrey's power to fight;  
Armida who Rinaldoes' ruin sought,  
To them adjoines herself and Sirias might,  
To satisfy her cruel will and thought,  
She gives herself to him that kills her knight:  
He takes his fatal arms, and in his shield  
His ancestors and their great deeds beheild.   

1  
GAza the city on the frontier stands  
Of Judaes' realm, as men to Egypt ride,  
Built near the sea, beside it of dry sands  
Huge wildernesses lie, and deserts wide,  
Which the strong winds lift from the parched lands,  
And toss like roaring waves in roughest tide,  
That from those storms poor passengers almost  
No refuge find, but there are downed and lost.   

2  
Within this town (won from the Turks of yore)  
Strong garrison the king of Egypt placed,  
And for it nearer was, and fitted more  
That high emprise, to which his thoughts he cast,  
He left great Memphis, and to Gaza bore  
His regal throne, and there, from country's vast  
Of his huge Empire, all the puissant host  
Assembled he, and mustered on the coast.   

3  
Come say (my muse) what manner times these wear,  
And in those times how stood the state of things,  
What power this monarch had, what arms they bear,  
What nations subject and what friends he brings;  
For from all lands the southrens Ocean near,  
Or morning star, came Princes, Dukes and Kings,  
And only thou of half the world welnie  
The armies, Lords, and captains, canst descry.   

4  
When Egypt from the Greekish Emperor  
Rebelled first, and Christ's true faith denied,  
Of Mahomet's descent, a warrior  
There set his throne, and ruled that kingdom wide,  
Caliph he hight, and Caliphes since that hour  
Are his successors named all beside:  
So Nilus old his kings long time had seen  
That Ptolemies and Pharaoh's called had been.   

5  
Established was that kingdom in short while,  
And grew so great, that over Asia's lands  
And Libias' realms, it stretched many a mile,  
From Syrias coasts as far as Cirene sands,  
And Southward passed 'gainst the course of Nile,  
Through the hot clime where burned Siene stands,  
Hence bounded in with sandy deserts waste,  
And thence with Euphrates rich flood embraced.   

6  
Maremma, myrrh and spices that doth bring,  
And all the rich red sea it comprehends,  
And to those lands, toward the morning spring  
That lie beyond that gulf, it far extends:  
Great is that Empire, greater by the king  
That rules it now, whose worth the land amends,  
And makes more famous, Lord thereof by blood,  
By wisdom, valour, and all virtues good.   

7  
With Turks and Persians war he oft did wage,  
And oft he won, and sometime lost the field,  
Nor could his adverse fortune ought assuage  
His valour's heat, or make his proud heart yield,  
But when he grew unfit for war through age,  
He sheathed his sword, and laid aside his shield:  
But yet his warlike mind he laid not down,  
Nor his great thirst of rule, praise, and renown,   

8  
But by his knights still cruel wars maintained.  
So wise his words, so quick his wit appears,  
That of the kingdom large o'er which he reigned,  
The charge seemed not too weighty for his years;  
His greatness Africks' lesser kings constrained  
To tremble at his name, all Ind him fears,  
And other realms that would his friendship hold,  
Some armed soldiers sent, some gifts, some gold.   

9  
This mighty Prince assembled had the flower  
Of all his realms, against the French men stout  
To break their rising empire and their power,  
Nor of sure conquest had he fear or doubt:  
To him Armida came, even at the hour  
When in the plains (old Gazaes' walls without)  
The Lords and leaders all their armies bring  
In battle ray, mustered before their king.   

10  
He on his throne was set, to which on hight  
Who climbed, an hundred ivory stairs first told,  
Under a pentise wrought of silver bright,  
And trod on carpets made of silk and gold;  
His robes were such as best beseemen might  
A king, so great, so grave, so rich, so old,  
And twined of sixty else of lawn and more,  
A turban strange, adorned his tresses hore.   

11  
His right hand did his precious sceptre wield,  
His beard was grey, his looks severe and grave,  
And from his eyes (not yet made dim with eild)  
Sparkled his former worth and vigour brave,  
His gestures all the majesty upheild  
And state, as his old age and empire crave,  
So Phidias carved, Apelles so (perdie)  
Erst painted jove, Jove thundering down from sky.   

12  
On either side him stood a noble lord,  
Whereof the first held in his upright hand,  
Of severe justice the unpartial sword;  
The other bore the seal and causes scanned,  
Keeping his folk in peace and good accord,  
And termed was Lord chancellor of the land;  
But Martial was the first, and used to lead  
His armies forth to war, oft with good speed.   

13  
Of bold Circassians with their halberds long,  
(About his throne) his guard stood in a ring,  
All richly armed in guilden corselets strong,  
And by their sides their crooked swords down hang:  
Thus set, thus seated, his grave lords among,  
His hosts and armies great beheld the king,  
And every band as by his throne it went,  
Their ensign low inclined, and arms down bend:   

14  
Their squadron first the men of Egypt show,  
In four ●oo●es, and each his feu'rall guide,  
Of the high ●●●ntrie two, two of the low,  
Which Nile had won out of the salt sea side,  
Hi● fertile slime first stopped the waters flow,  
Then hardened to firm land the plough to bide,  
So Egypt still increased, within far placed  
That part is now, where ships erst anchor cast.   

15  
The foremost band the people were that dwelled  
In Alexandrias rich and fertile plain,  
Along the Western shore, whence Nile expelled  
The greedy billows of the swelling main;  
Araspes was their guide, who more excelled  
In wit and craft, than strength or warlike pain,  
To place an ambush close, or to devise  
A treason false, was none so sly, so wise.   

16  
The people next that 'gainst the morning rays  
Along the coasts of Asia have their seat,  
Arontes led them, whom no warlike praise  
Ennobled, but high birth and titles great,  
His helm near made him sweat in toilsome frays,  
Nor was his sleep ere broke with trumpets threat,  
But from soft ease to try the toil of fight,  
His fond ambition brought this carpet knight.   

17  
The third seemed not a troop or squadron small,  
But an huge host; nor seemed it so much grain  
In Egypt grew, as to sustain them all;  
Yet from one town thereof came all that train,  
A town in people to huge shires equal,  
That did a thousand streets and more contain,  
Great Cairo it hight, whose Commons from each side  
Came swarming out to war, Campson their guide.   

18  
Next under Gazell marched they that blow  
The fertile lands above that town which lie,  
Up to the place where Nilus tumbling low,  
Falls from his second Catarrackt from high:  
Th'egyptians weap'ned were with sword and bow,  
No weight of helm or hawberke list they try,  
And richly armed in their strong foes no dread  
Of death, but great desire of spoil, they breed.   

19  
The naked folk of Barca these succeed,  
Unarmed half; Alarcon led that band,  
That long in deserts lived (in extreme need)  
On spoils and prays, purchased by strength of hand,  
To battle strong unfit, their king did lead  
His army next brought from Zumara land;  
Then he of Tripoli, for sudden fight  
And skirmish short, both ready, bold and light.   

20  
Two captains next brought forth their bands to show,  
Whom stony sent and happy Arabia,  
Which never felt the cold of frost and snow,  
Or force of burning heat, unless fame lie,  
Where incense pure and all sweet odours grow,  
Where the sole Phoenix, doth revive, not die,  
And midst the perfumes rich and flowrets brave,  
Both birth, and burial, cradle hath, and grave.   

21  
Their clothes not rich, their garments were not gay,  
But weapons like th'Egyptian troops they had:  
Th'Arabians next that have no certain stay,  
No house, no home, no mansion good or bad,  
But ever (as the Scythian Hordas' stray)  
From place to place their wandering cities gad:  
These have both voice and stature feminine,  
Hair, long and black; black face, and fiery eine.   

22  
Long Indian Canes (with iron armed) they bear,  
And as upon their nimble steeds they ride,  
Like a swift storm their speedy troops appear,  
If winds so fast bring storms from heavens wide:  
By Syphax led the first Arabians wear;  
Aldine the second squadron had to guide,  
And Abiazer proud, brought to the fight  
The third, a thief, a murderer, not a knight.   

23  
The Islanders came than their Prince before,  
Whose lands Arabia's gulf enclosed about,  
Wherein they fish and gather oysters store,  
Whose shells great pearls rich and round power out;  
The red sea sent with them from his left shore,  
Of negro's grim a black and ugly rou●●●  
These Agricalt and those Osmida brought,  
A man that set law, faith and truth at nought.   

24  
The Ethiopes next which Meroe doth breed,  
That sweet and gentle isle of Meroee,  
Twixt Nile and Astrabore that far doth spreed,  
Where two religions are, and kingdoms three,  
These Assamiro and Canario lead,  
Both kings, both Pagans, and both subjects be  
To the great Caliph, but the third king kept  
Christ's sacred faith, nor to these wars out stepped.   

25  
After two kings (both subject also) ride,  
And of two bands of archers had the charge,  
The first sultan of Orms placed in the wide  
Huge Persian bay, a town rich, fair and large:  
The last of Boecan, which at every tide  
The sea cuts off from Persias southrens marge,  
And makes an isle; but when it ebbs again,  
The passage there is sandy, dry and plain.   

26  
Nor thee (great Altamore) in her chaste bed  
Thy loving Queen kept with her dear embrace,  
She tore her locks, she smote her breast, and shed  
Salt tears to make thee stay in that sweet place,  
Seem the rough seas more calm, cruel, she said,  
Than the mild looks of thy kind spouses' face?  
Or is thy shield, with blood and dust defiled,  
A dearer armful than thy tender child?   

27  
This was the mighty king of Sarmachand,  
A captain wise, well skilled in feats of war,  
In courage fierce, matchless for strength of hand,  
Great was his praise, his force was noised far;  
His worth rightwell the Frenchmen understand,  
By whom his virtues feared and loved are:  
His men were armed with helms and hawberks strong,  
And by their sides broad swords and mazes hung.   

28  
Then from the mansions bright of fresh Aurore,  
Adrastus came, the glorious king of Ind,  
A snakes green skin spotted with black he wore,  
That was made rich by art and hard by kind,  
An Elephant this furious Giant bore,  
He fierce as fire, h 〈…〉 unture swift as wind:  
Much people brought he from his kingdoms wide,  
Twixt Indus, Ganges, and the saltsea side.   

29  
The kings own troop came next, a chosen crew,  
Of all the camp the strength, the crown, the flower,  
Wherein each soldiers had with honour's dew  
Rewarded been, for service, ere that hour;  
Their arms were strong for need, and fair for show,  
Upon fierce steeds well mounted road this power,  
And heaven itself with the clear splendure shone  
Of their bright armour, purple, gold and stone.   

30  
'mongst these Alarco fierce, and Odemare  
The muster master was, and Hidraort,  
And Rimedon, whose rashness took no care  
To shun deaths bitter stroke, in field or fort,  
Tigranes, Rapold stern, the men that far  
By sea, that rob in each creak and port;  
Ormond, and Marlabust th'Arabian named,  
Because that land rebellious he reclaimed.   

31  
There Pirga, Arimon, Orindo are,  
Brimarte the scaler, and with him 〈…〉 fant  
The breaker of wild horses brought from far;  
Then the great wrestler strong Aridamante,  
And Tisipherne, the thunderbolt of war,  
Whom none surpassed, whom none to match durst vaunt  
At tilt, at turnay, or in combat brave,  
With spear or lance, with sword, with maze or glaive.   

32  
A false Armenian did this squadron guide,  
That in his youth from Christ's true faith and light,  
To the blind lore of paganism did slide,  
That Clement late, now Emireno, height;  
Yet to his king he faithful was, and tried  
True in all causes, his in wrong and right:  
A cunning leader and a soldier bold,  
For strength and courage, young; for wisdom, old.   

33  
When all these regiments were past and gone,  
Appeared Armide, and came her troop to show,  
Set in a chariot bright with precious stone,  
Her gown tucked up, and in her hand a bow;  
In her sweet face her new displeasures shone,  
Mixed with the native beauties there which grow,  
And quickened so her looks, that in sharp wise  
It seems she threats, and yet her threats entice.   

34  
Her chariot like Aurora's glorious wain,  
With Carbuncles and jacinthes glistered round:  
Her coachman guided with the golden rain  
Four unicorns, by couples yoakte and bound;  
Of Squires and lovely Lady's hundreds twain,  
(Whose rattling quivers at their backs resound)  
On milk white steeds, wait on the chariot bright,  
Their steeds to menage, ready; swift, to flight:   

35  
Followed her troop led forth by Aradin,  
Which Hidraort from Syrias kingdom sent,  
As when the new borne Phoenix doth begin  
To fly to Ethiope ward, at the fair bent  
Of her rich wings strange plumes, and feathers thin,  
Her crowns and chains, with native gold besprent,  
The world amazed stands; and with her fly  
An host of wondering birds, that sing and cry:   

36  
So past Armida, looked on, gazed on, so,  
A wondrous dame in habit, gesture, face;  
There lived no wight to love so great a foe,  
But wished and longed those beauties to embrace,  
Scant seen, with anger sullen, sad for woe,  
She conquered all the Lords and knights in place,  
What would she do (her sorrows passed) think you,  
When her fair eyes, her looks and smiles shall woo?   

37  
She passed, the king commanded Emiren  
Of his rich throne to mount the lofty stage,  
To whom his host, his army and his men,  
He would commit, now in his graver age.  
With stately grace the man approached then;  
His looks, his coming honour did presage:  
The guard asunder cleft, and passage maid,  
He to the throne up went, and there he staid;   

38  
To earth he cast his eyes and bend his knee:  
To whom the king thus 'gan his will explain,  
To thee this sceptre (Emiren) to thee  
These armies I commit, my place sustain  
'mongst them, go set the king of Juda free,  
And let the Frenchmen feel my just disdain,  
Go, meet them, conquer them, leave none on live,  
Or those that scape from battle, bring captive.   

39  
Thus spoke the tyrant, and the sceptre laid  
With all his sovereign power upon the knight:  
I take this sceptre at your hand (he said)  
And with your happy fortune go to fight,  
And trust (my Lord) in your great virtues aid,  
To venge all Asia's harms, her wrongs to right,  
Nor ere but victor will I see your face,  
Our overthrow shall bring death, not disgrace:   

40  
Heavens grant if evil (yet no mishap I dread)  
Or harm, they threaten 'gainst this camp of thine,  
That all that mischief fall upon my head,  
Theirs be the conquest, and the danger mine;  
And let them safe, bring home their captain dead,  
Buried in pomp of triumphs glorious shine.  
He ceased, and then a murmur loud up went,  
With noise of joy and sound of instrument;   

41  
Amid the noise and shout, uprose the king,  
Environed with many a noble peer,  
That to his royal tent the monarch bring,  
And there he feasted them and made them cheer,  
To him and him he talked, and carved each thing,  
The greatest honoured, meanest graced were.  
And while this mirth, this joy and feast doth last,  
Armida found fit time her nets to cast:   

42  
But when the feast was done, she (that espied  
All eyes on her fair visage fixed and bend,  
And by true notes and certain signs descried,  
How loves impoisned fire, theri entrails brent)  
Arose, and where the king sat in his pride,  
With stately pace and humble gestures, went;  
And as she could in looks in voice she strove  
Fierce, stern, bold, angry, and severe to prove.   

43  
Great Emperor, behold me here (she said)  
For thee, my country, and my faith to fight,  
A dame, a virgin, but a royal maid,  
And worthy seems this war a Princess hight,  
For by the sword, the sceptre is upstaid,  
This hand can use them both, with skill and might,  
This hand of mine can strike, and at each blow  
Thy foes and ours kill, wound, and overthrow.   

44  
Nor yet suppose this is the foremost day  
Wherein to war I bend my noble thought,  
But for the surety of thy realms, and stay  
Of our religion true, ere this I wrought:  
Yourself best know if this be true I say,  
Or if my former deeds reioised you ought,  
When Godfrey's hardy knights and princes strong  
I captive took, and held in bondage long:   

45  
I took them, bound them, and so sent them bound  
To thee, a noble gift, with whom they had  
Condemned low in dungeon under ground  
For ever dwelled, in woe and torment sad:  
So might thine host an easy way have found  
To end this doubtful war, with conquest glad,  
Had not Rinaldo fierce my knights all slain,  
And set those lords his friends, at large again.   

46  
Rinaldo is well known, (and there a long  
And true rehearsal made she of his deeds)  
This is the knight that since hath done me wrong,  
Wrong yet untold, that sharp revengement needs:  
Displeasure therefore, mixed with reason strong,  
This thirst of war in me, this courage breeds;  
Nor how he injured me time serves to tell,  
Let this suffice, I seek revengement fell,   

47  
And will procure it, for all shafts that fly  
Light not in vain, some work the shooters will,  
And Ioues right hand with thunders cast from sky,  
Takes open vengeance oft for secret ill:  
But if some champion dare this knight defy  
To mortal battle, and by fight him kill,  
And with his hateful head will me present,  
That gift my soul shall please, my heart content:   

48  
So please, that for reward enjoy he shall,  
(The greatest gift, I can or may afford)  
Myself, my beauty, wealth and kingdoms all,  
To marry him, and take him for my lord,  
This promise will I keep what ere befall,  
And thereto bind myself by oath and word:  
Now he that deems this purchase worth his pain,  
Let him step forth and speak, I none disdain.   

49  
While thus the Princess said, his hungry eine  
Adrastus fed on her sweet beauty's light,  
The gods forbidden (quoth he) one shaft of thine  
Should be discharged 'gainst that discourteous knight,  
His heart unworthy is (shootresse divine)  
Of thine artillery to feel the might;  
To wreak thine ire behold me priest and fit,  
I will his head cut off, and bring thee it:   

50  
I will his heart with this sharp sword divide,  
And to the vultures cast his carcase out.  
Thus threatened he, but Tisipherne envied  
To hear his glorious vaunt and boasting stout,  
And said, but who art thou, that so great pride  
Thou show'st before the king, me, and this rout?  
Perdie here are some such, whose worth exceeds  
Thy vaunting much, yet boast not of their deeds.   

51  
The Indian fierce replied, I am the man  
Whose acts his words and boasts have aye surpassed;  
But if elsewhere the words thou now began  
Had uttered been, that speech had been thy last.  
Thus quarreled they, they monarch stayed them than,  
And twixt the angry knights his sceptre cast;  
Then to Armida said, fair Queen, I see  
Thy heart is stout, thy thoughts courageous be:   

52  
Thou worthy art that their disdain and ire  
At thy commands these knights should both appease,  
That 'gainst thy foe their courage hot as fire  
Thou Mayst employ, both when and where thou please,  
There all their power and force, and what desire  
They have to serve thee, may they show at ease.  
The monarch held his peace when this was said,  
And they new proffer of their service maid:   

53  
Nor they alone, but all that famous wear  
In feats of arms, boast that he shall be dead,  
All offer her their aid, all say and swear  
To take revenge, on his condemned head:  
So many arms moved she against her dear,  
And swore her darling under foot to tread.  
But he, since first th'enchanted isle he left,  
Safe in his barge the roaring waves still cleft.   

54  
By the same way returned the well taught boat  
By which it came, and made like haste, like speed;  
The friendly wind (upon her sail that smote)  
So turned, as to return her ship had need:  
The youth sometime the pole or bear did note,  
Or wandering stars, which clearest nights forth spreed:  
Sometimes the floods, the hills, or mountains steep,  
Whose woody frontes oreshade the silent deep:   

55  
Now of the camp the man the state inquires;  
Now asks the customs strange of sundry lands,  
And sailed, till clad in beams and bright attires  
The fourth days sun on th'Eastern threshold stands:  
But when the Western seas had quenched those fires,  
Their frigate stroke against the shore and sands;  
Then spoke their guide, the land of Palestine  
This is, here must your journey end and mine;   

56  
The Knights she set upon the shore all three,  
And vanished thence in twinkling of an eye.  
Uprose the night in whose deep blackness be  
All colours hid of things, in earth or sky,  
Nor could they house, or hold, or harbour see,  
Or in that desert sign of dwelling spy,  
Nor tracked of man or horse, or aught that might  
Inform them of some path or passage right.   

57  
When they had mused what way they travail should,  
From the waste shore their steps at last they twined,  
And lo far off at last their eyes behold  
Something (they witted not what) that clearly shined,  
With rays of silver and with beams of gold,  
Which the dark folds of nights black mantle lined,  
Forward they went and marched 'gainst the light,  
To see and find the thing, that shone so bright:   

58  
High on a tree they saw an armour new,  
That glistered bright 'gainst Cint hias silver ray,  
Therein (like stars in skies) the dimonds show,  
Fret in the gilded helm and hawberke gay,  
The mighty shield all scored full they view  
Of pictures fair, ranged in meet array;  
To keep them sat an aged man beside,  
Who to salute them rose, when them he spied.   

59  
The twain, who first were sent in this pursuit,  
Of their wise friend well knew the aged face:  
But when the wizard sage their first salute  
Received, and quited had, with kind embrace,  
To the young Prince (that silent stood and mute)  
He turned his speech: in this unused place  
For you alone I wait (my Lord) quoth he,  
My chiefest care your state and welfare be;   

60  
For (though you wot it not) I am your friend,  
And for your profit work, as these can tell,  
I taught them how Armidaes' charms to end,  
And bring you hither from loves hateful cell,  
Now to my words (though sharp perchance) attend,  
Nor be aggrieved although they seem too fell,  
But keep them well in mind, till in the truth  
A wise and holier man instruct thy yuth.   

61  
Not underneath sweet shades and fountains shrill,  
Among the nymphs, the fairies, leaves and flowers;  
But on the steep, the rough and craggy hill  
Of virtue, stands this bliss, this good of ours:  
By toil and travail, not by sitting still  
In pleasure's lap, we come to honours bours;  
Why will you thus in sloathes deep valley lie?  
The royal Eagles on high mountains fly.   

62  
Nature lifts up thy forehead to the skies,  
And fills thy heart with high and noble thought,  
That thou to heau'nward aye shouldst lift thine eyes,  
And purchase fame by deeds well done and wrought,  
She gives thee ire, by which hot courage flies  
To conquest, not through brawls and battles (fought  
For civil jars) nor that thereby you might  
Your wicked malice wreak and cursed spite:   

63  
But that your strength sourred forth with noble wraith,  
With greater fury might Christ's foes assault,  
And that your bridle should with lesser scaith  
Each secret vice, and kill each inward fault;  
For so his godly anger ruled haveth  
Each righteous man, beneath heavens starry vault,  
And at his will makes it now hot, now cold,  
Now lets it run, now doth it fettered hold.   

64  
Thus parled he; Rinaldo hushed and still  
Great wisdom heard in those few words compiled,  
He marked his speech, a purple blush did fill  
His guilty cheeks, down went his eyesight mild.  
The hermit by his bashful looks his will  
Well understood, and said, look up my child,  
And painted in this precious shield behold  
The glorious deeds of thy forefathers old:   

65  
Thine elder glory herein see and know,  
In virtues path how they trod all their days,  
Whom thou art far behind, a runner slow  
In this true course of honour, fame and prays:  
Up, up, thyself incite by the fair show  
Of Knigtly worth, which this bright shield bewrays,  
That be thy spur, to praise: at last the knight  
Looked up, and on those purtraites bend his sight.   

66  
The cunning workman had in little space  
Infinite shapes of men there well expressed,  
For there described was the worthy race,  
And pedigree of all the house of Est:  
Come from a Roman spring o'er all the place  
Flowed pure streams of crystal East and West,  
With laurel crowned stood the Prince's old,  
Their wars the Hermit and their battles told.   

67  
He showed him Caius first, when first in pray  
To people strange the falling empire went,  
First Prince of Est, that did the sceptre sway  
Over such as choose him Lord by free consent,  
His weaker neighbours to his rule obey,  
Need made them stoop, constraint doth force content;  
After, (when Lord Honorius called the train,  
Of savage Goths into his land again,)   

68  
And when all Italic did burn and flame  
With bloody war, by this fierce people maid,  
When Rome a captive and a slave became,  
And to be quite destroyed was most afraid,  
Aurelius (to his everlasting fame)  
Preserved in peace the folk that him obaied:  
Next whom was Forrest, who the rage withstood  
Of the bold Huns, and of their tyrant prood.   

69  
Known by his look was Attila the fell,  
Whose dragon eyes shone bright with anger's spark,  
Worse faced than a dog, who viewed him well,  
Supposed they saw him grin, and heard him bark;  
But when in single fight he lost the bell,  
How through his troops he fled there might you mark,  
And how Lord Forrest after fortified  
Aquilias' town, and how for it he died;   

70  
For there was wrought the fatal end and fine,  
Both of himself and of the town he kept:  
But his great son renowned Acarine,  
Into his father's place and honour stepped,  
To cruel fate, not to the Huns, Altine  
Gave place, and when time served again forth leapt,  
And in the vale of Poe built for his seat  
Of many a village small, a city great.   

71  
Against the swelling flood he bankt it strong,  
And thence uprose the fair and noble town,  
Where they of Est should by succession long  
Command, and rule in bliss and high renown:  
'Gainst Odoacer than he fought, but wrong  
Oft spoileth right, fortune treads courage down,  
For there he died for his dear country's sake,  
And of his father's praise did so partake:   

72  
With him died Alphorisio, Azzo was  
With his dear brother into exile sent,  
But homewards they in arms again repas,  
(The Herule king oppressed) from banishment,  
His front through pierced with a dart (alas:)  
Next them of Est th'Epaminondas went,  
That smiling seemed to cruel death to yield,  
When Totila was fled, and safe his shield.   

73  
Of Boniface I speak, Valerian  
His son in praise and power succeeded him,  
Who durst sustain (in years though scant a man)  
Of the proud Goths an hundredth squadrons trim:  
Then he that 'gainst the sclaves much honour wan,  
Ernesto threatening stood with visage grim,  
Before him Aldoard, the Lombard stout  
Who from Monscelces boldly erst shut out.   

74  
There Henry was and Berengare the bold,  
That served great Charles in his conquests hie,  
Who in each battle give the onset would,  
A hardy soldier and a captain sly;  
After, prince jews did he well uphold  
Against his nephew, king of Italy,  
He won the field and took that king on live:  
Next him stood Otho with his children five.   

75  
Of Almerike the image next they view,  
Lord marquis of Ferrara first create,  
Founder of many churches, that upthrew  
His eyes, like one that used to contemplate.  
'Gainst him the second Azzo stood in rew,  
With Berengarious that did long debate,  
Till after often change of fortune's stroke,  
He won, and on all Itaile laid the yoke.   

76  
Albert his son the Germans ward among,  
And there his praise and fame was spread so wide,  
That having foiled the Danes in battle strong,  
His daughter young became great Othoes' bride.  
Behind him Hugo stood with warfare long,  
That broke the horn of all the Romans' pride,  
Who of all Italy the marquis hight,  
And Tuscan whole, possessed as his right.   

77  
After Tedaldo, puissant Boniface  
And Beatrice his dear possessed the stage;  
Nor was there left heir male of that great race,  
T'enjoy the sceptre, state and heritage;  
The Princess Maude alone supplied the place,  
Supplied the want in number, sex and age;  
For far above each sceptre, throne and crown,  
The noble Dame advanced her vail and gown:   

78  
With manlike vigour shone her noble look,  
And more than manlike wrath her face o'erspread,  
There the fell Normans, Guichard there forsook  
The field, till than who never feared nor fled;  
Henry the fourth she beat, and from him took  
His standard, and in church it offered;  
Which done, the Pope back to the Vatican  
She brought, and placed in Peter's chair again.   

79  
As he that honoured her, and held her dear  
Azzo the fifth stood by her lovely side;  
But the fourth Azzos' offspring far and near  
Spread forth, and through Germania fructifide,  
Sprung from that branch did Guelpho bold appear,  
Guelpho his son by Cunigond his bride,  
And in Bavarias' field transplanted new  
This Roman grift flourished, increased and grew.   

80  
A branch of Est there in the Guelfian three  
engrafted was, which of itself was old,  
Whereon you might the Guelfoes fairer see,  
Renew their sceptres and their crowns of gold,  
On which heavens good aspects so bended be,  
That high and broad it spread, and flourished bold,  
Till underneath his glorious branches lad  
Half Germany, and all under his shade.   

81  
This regal plant from his Italian rout  
Sprung up as high, and blossomed fair above,  
For nenst Lord Guelpho, Bertold issued out,  
With the sixth Azzo whom all virtues love;  
This was the pedigree of worthies stout,  
Who seemed in that bright shield to live and move.  
Rinaldo waked up and cheered his face,  
To see these worthies of his house and race.   

82  
To do like acts his courage wished and sought,  
And with that wish transported him so far,  
That all those deeds which filled aye his thought,  
(towns won, forts taken, armies killed in war)  
As if they were things done indeed and wrought,  
Before his eyes he thinks they present are,  
He hastily arms him, and with hope and haste,  
Sure conquest met, prevented and embraced.   

83  
But Charles, who had told the death and fall  
Of the young Prince of Danes his late dear Lord,  
Gave him the fatal weapon, and withal,  
Young knight (quoth he) take with good luck this sword,  
Your just, strong, valiant hand in battle shall  
Employ it long, for Christ's true faith and word,  
And of his former Lord revenge the wrongs,  
Who loved you so, that deed to you belongs.   

84  
He answered, God for his mercy sake,  
Grant that this hand which holds this weapon good,  
For thy dear master may sharp vengeance take,  
May cleave the Pagans heart, and shed his blood.  
To this but short reply did Charles make,  
And thanked him much, nor more on terms they stood:  
For lo the wizard sage that was their guide  
On their dark journey hastes them forth to ride,   

85  
High time it is (quoth he) for you to wend  
Where Godfrey you awaits, and many a knight,  
There may we well arrive ere night doth end,  
And through this darkness can I guide you right.  
This said, up to his coach they all ascend,  
On his swift wheels forth rolled the chariot light,  
He gave his coursers flit the rod and rain,  
And galloped forth and eastward drove amain;   

86  
While silent so through nights dark shade they fly,  
The Hermit thus bespoke the young man stout,  
Of thy great house, thy race, thine offspring high,  
Here hast thou seen the branch, the bowl, the rout,  
And as these worthies borne to chivalry,  
And deeds of arms, it hath tofore brought out;  
So is it, so it shall be fertile still,  
Nor time shall end, nor age that seed shall kill.   

87  
Would God, as drawn from the forgetful lap  
Of antic time, I have thine elders shown;  
That so I could the Catalogue unwrap  
Of thy great nephews yet unborn, unknown,  
That ere this light they view, their fate and hap  
I might foretell, and how their chance is thrown,  
That like thine elders so thou mightst behold  
Thy children many, famous, stout and bold.   

88  
But not by art or skill, of things future  
Can the plain troth revealed be and told,  
Although some knowledge doubtful, dark, obscure  
We have of coming haps in clouds uprold;  
Nor all which in this cause I know for sure  
Dare I foretell: for of that father old  
The hermit Peter, learned I much, and he  
Withouten vail heavens secrets great doth see.   

89  
But this (to him revealed by grace divine)  
By him to me declared, to thee I say,  
Was never raze Greek, barbarous, or Latin,  
Great in times past, or famous at this day,  
Richer in hardy knights than this of thine;  
Such blessings heaven shall on thy children lay,  
That they in fame shall pass, in praise o'ercome  
The worthies old of Sparta, Carthage, Rome.   

90  
But 'mongst the rest I chose Alphonsus bold,  
In virtue first, second in place and name,  
He shall be borne when this frail world grows old,  
Corrupted, poor, and bare of men of fame,  
Better than he none shall, none can, or could  
The sword or sceptre use, or guide the same,  
To rule in peace, or to command in fight,  
Thine offsprings glory and thy houses light.   

91  
His younger age foretokens true shall yield  
Of future valour, puissance, force and might,  
From him no rock the savage beast shall shield;  
At tilt or turnay match him shall no knight:  
After he conquer shall in pitched field  
Great armies, and win spoils in single fight,  
And on his locks (rewards for knightly praise)  
Shall garlands wear of grass, of oak, of bay.   

92  
His graver age, as well that eild it fits,  
Shall happy peace preserve, and quiet blessed,  
And from his neighbours strong 'mongst whom he sits,  
Shall keep his cities safe, in wealth and rest,  
Shall nourish arts, and cherish pregnant wits,  
Make triumphs great, and feast his subjects best,  
Reward the good, the evil with pains torment,  
Shall dangers all foresee; and seen, prevent.   

93  
But if it hap against those wicked bands  
That sea and earth infest with blood and war,  
And in these wretched times to noble lands  
Give laws of peace, false and unjust that are,  
That he be sent, to drive their guilty hands  
From Christ's pure altars, and high temples far,  
O what revenge? what vengeance shall he bring  
On that false sect, and their accursed king?   

94  
Too late the moors, too late the Turkish king,  
'Gainst him should arm their troops and legions bold;  
For he beyond great Euphrates should bring,  
Beyond the frozen tops of Taurus cold,  
Beyond the land where is perpetual spring,  
The cross, the Eagle white, the lily of gold,  
And by baptizing of the Ethiopes brown,  
Of aged Nile reveal the springs unknown.   

95  
Thus said the hermit, and his prophesy  
The Prince accepted with content and pleasure,  
The secret thought of his posterity,  
Of his concealed joys heaped up the measure.  
Meanwhile the morning bright was mounted high,  
And changed heavens silver wealth to golden treasure,  
And high above the Christian tents they view,  
How the broad ensigns trembled, waved and blew;   

96  
When thus again their leader sage begun,  
See how bright Phoebus clears the darksome skies,  
See how with gentle beams the friendly son  
The tents, the towns, the hills and dales descries,  
Through my well guiding is your voyage done,  
From danger safe, in travail oft which lies,  
Hence without fear of harm or doubt of foe,  
March to the camp, I may no nearer go.   

97  
Thus took he leave, and made a quick return,  
And forward went the champions three on fout,  
And marching right against the rising morn,  
A ready passage to the camp found out,  
Meanwhile had speedy fame the tidings borne  
That to the tents approached these Barons stout,  
And starting from his throne and kingly seat  
To entertain them, rose Godfredo great.    

The eighteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The charms and spirits false therein which lie,  
Rinaldo chaseth from the forest old;  
The host of Egypt comes; Vafrine the spy  
Entereth their camp, stout, crafty, wise and bold,  
Sharp is the fight about the bulwarks high  
And ports of Zion, to assault the hold:  
Godfrey hath aid from heaven, by force the town  
Is won, the Pagans slain, walls beaten down.   

1  
arrived, where Godfrey to embrace him stood,  
My sovereign Lord, Rinaldo meekly said,  
To venge my wrongs against Gernando prood,  
My honours care provoked my wrath unstaid;  
But that I you displeased my chieftain good,  
My thoughts yet grieve, my heart is still dismayed,  
And here I come, priest all exploits to try,  
To make me gracious in your gracious eye.   

2  
To him that kneeled (folding his friendly arms  
About his neck) the Duke this answer gave:  
Let pass such speeches sad, of passed harms,  
Remembrance is the life of grief; his grave,  
Forgetfulness; and for amends, in arms  
Your wont valour use and courage brave;  
For you alone to happy end must bring,  
The strong enchantments of the charmed spring.   

3  
That aged wood whence heretofore we got  
(To build our scaling engines) timber fit,  
Is now the fearful seat (but how none wots)  
Where ugly fiends and damned spirits sit;  
To cut one twist thereof adventreth not  
The boldest knight we have, nor without it  
This wall can battered be, where others doubt  
There venture thou, and show thy courage stout.   

4  
Thus said he, and the knight in speeches few  
proffered his service to attempt the thing,  
To hard assays his courage willing flew,  
To him praise was no spur, words were no sting:  
Of his dear friends than he embraced the crew,  
To welcome him which came; for in a ring  
About him Guelfo, Tancred and the rest  
Stood, of the camp the greatest, chief and best:   

5  
When with the Prince these Lords had iterate  
Their welcomes oft, and oft their dear embrace;  
Towards the rest of lesser worth and state,  
He turned, and them received with gentle grace;  
The merry soldiers 'bout him shout and prate,  
With cries as joyful and as cheerful face,  
As if in triumphs chariot bright as sun,  
He had returned, Africa or Asia won.   

6  
Thus marched to his tent the champion good,  
And there sat down with all his friends around;  
Now of the war he asked, now of the wood,  
And answered each demand they list propound.  
But when they left him to his ease, upstood  
The Hermit, and fit time to speak once found,  
My Lord he said, your travels wondrous are,  
far have you strayed, erred, wandered far;   

7  
Much are you bound to God above, who brought  
You safe from false Armidas charmed hold;  
And th●e a straying sheep whom once he bought,  
Hath now again reduced to his fold,  
And against his heathen foes these men of nought,  
Hath chosen thee in place next Godfrey bold;  
Yet May'st thou not polluted thus with sin,  
In his high service, war or fight begin;   

8  
The world, the flesh with their infection vile,  
Pollute the thoughts impure, thy spirit stain;  
Not Poe, not Ganges, not seven mouthed Nile,  
Not the wide seas can wash thee clean again,  
Only to purge all faults which thee defile,  
His blood hath power who for thy sins was slain:  
His help therefore invoke, to him bewray  
Thy secret faults, mourn, weep, complain and pray.   

9  
This said, the knight first with the Witch unchaste,  
His idle loves and follies vain lamented;  
Then kneeling low with heavy looks down cast,  
His other sins confessed and all repent,  
And meekly pardon craved for first and last.  
The Hermit with his zeal was well contented,  
And said, on yonder hill next morn go pray  
That turns his forehead 'gainst the morning ray:   

10  
That done, march to the wood, whence each one brings  
Such news of furies, gobbling, fiends, and spirits,  
The Giants, monsters, and all dreadful things  
Thou shalt subdue, which that dark grove unites:  
Let no strange voice, that mourns or sweetly sings;  
Nor beauty, whose glad smile frail hearts delights,  
Within thy breast make ruth or pity rise,  
But their false looks and prayers false despise.   

11  
Thus he advised him, and the hardy knight  
Prepared him gladly to this enterprise,  
Thoughtful he passed the day, and sad the night;  
And ere the silver morn began to rise,  
His arms he took, and in a coat him dight  
Of colour strange, cut in the warlike guise;  
And on his way sole, silent, forth he went  
Alone, and left his friends, and left his tent.   

12  
It was the time when 'gainst the breaking day  
Rebellious night yet strove, and still repined;  
For in the East appeared the morning grey,  
And yet some lamps in Ioues high palace shined,  
When to mount Olivet he took his way,  
And saw (as round about his eyes he twined)  
Nights shadows hence, from thence the morning shine  
This bright, that dark; that earthly, this divine:   

13  
Thus to himself he thought, how many bright  
And splendent lamps shine in heavens temple high,  
Day hath his golden sun, her moon the night,  
Her sixth and wandering stars the azure sky,  
So framed all by their creators might,  
That still they live and shine, and near shall die,  
Till (in a moment) with the last days brand  
They burn, and with them burns sea, air and land.   

14  
Thus as he mused, to the top he went,  
And there kneeled down with reverence and fear,  
His eyes upon heavens eastren face he bend,  
His thoughts above all heavens uplifted wear,  
The sins and errors (which I now repent)  
Of mine unbridled youth, O father dear  
Remember not, but let thy mercy fall,  
And purge my faults, and mine offences all.   

15  
Thus prayed he, with purple wings upflew  
In golden weed the morning's lusty Queen,  
Begilding (with the radiantbeames she threw)  
His helm, his harness and the mountain green,  
Upon his breast and forehead gently blew  
The air, that balm and nardus breathed unseen,  
And o'er his head let down from clearest skies  
A cloud of pure and precious dew there flies,   

16  
The heavenly dew was on his garments spread,  
To which compared, his clothes pale ashes seam,  
And spinkled so, that all that paleness fled,  
And thence of purest white bright rays outstreame:  
So cheered are the flowers late withered,  
With the sweet comfort of the morning beam;  
And so returned to youth, a serpent old  
Adorns herself in new and native gold.   

17  
The lovely whiteness of his changed weed  
The prince perceived well, and long admired,  
Toward the forest Marched he on with speed,  
Resolved, as such adventures great requir'de,  
Thither he came whence shrinking back, for dread  
Of that strange deserts sight, the first retir'de,  
But not to him fearful or loathsome made  
That forest was, but sweet with pleasant shade:   

18  
Forward he passed, and in the grove before  
He heard a sound that strange, sweet, pleasing was,  
There rolled a crystal brook with gentle roar,  
There sighed the winds as through the leaves they pass,  
There did the Nightingale her wrongs deplore,  
There sung the swan, and singing died (alas)  
There lute, harp, cittrens, humane voice he hard,  
And all these sounds one sound right well declared.   

19  
A dreadful thunderclap at last he hard,  
The aged trees and plants welnie that rent;  
Yet heard he nymphs and Sirens afterward,  
Birds, winds, and waters sing, with sweet consent:  
Whereat amazed he stayed, and well prepared  
For his defence, heedful and slow foorthwent,  
Nor in his way his passage ought withstood,  
Except a quiet, still, transparent flood:   

20  
On the green banks which that fair stream inbound,  
Flowers and odours sweetly smiled and smelled,  
Which reaching out his stretched arms around,  
All the large desert in his bosom held,  
And through the grove on channel passage found,  
That, in the wood; in that, the forest dwelled:  
Trees, clad the streams; streams, green those trees aye made,  
And so exchanged their moisture and their shade.   

21  
The knight some way sought out the flood to pass,  
And as he sought a wondrous bridge appeared,  
A bridge of gold, a huge and weighty mass,  
On arches great of that rich metal reared;  
When through that golden way he entered was,  
Down fell the bridge, swollen the stream, and weard  
The work away, not sign left where it stood,  
And of a river calm became a flood:   

22  
He turned, amazed to see it troubled so,  
Like sudden brooks increased with molten snow,  
The billows fierce that tossed to and fro,  
The whirlpooles sucked down to their bosoms low;  
But on he went to search for wonders more,  
Through the thick trees, there high and broad which grow,  
And in that forest huge and desert wide,  
The more he sought, more wonders still he spied.   

23  
Where so he stepped, it seemed the joyful ground  
Renewed the verdure of her flowery weed,  
A fountain here, a wellspring there he found;  
Here bud the Roses, there the lilies spreed;  
The aged wood over and about him round  
Flourished with blossoms new, new leaves, new seed,  
And on the boughs and branches of those treene,  
The bark was softened, and renewed the green.   

24  
The Manna on each leaf did pearled lie,  
The honey stilled from the tender rind.  
Again he heard that wondrous harmony,  
Of songs and sweet complaints of lovers kind,  
The humane voices sung a triple high,  
To which respond the birds, the streams, the wind,  
But yet unseen those nymphs, those singers wear,  
Unseen the lutes, haps, viols which they bear.   

25  
He looked, he listened, yet this thoughts denied  
To think that true which he both heard and see,  
A myrtle in an ample plain hespide,  
And thither by a beaten path went he:  
The myrtle spread her mighty branches wide,  
Higher than Pine, or palm, or cypress tree:  
And far above all other plants was seen,  
That forests Lady, and that deserts Queen.   

26  
Upon the tree his eyes Rinaldo bend,  
And there a marvel great and strange began;  
An aged oak beside him cleft and rend,  
And from his fertile hollow womb forth ran,  
(Clad in rare weeds and strange habiliment)  
A Nymph, for age able to go to man,  
An hundredth plants beside (even in his sight)  
Childed an hundredth nymphs, so great, so dight:   

27  
Such as on stages play, such as we see  
The Dryads painted, whom wild satire's love,  
Whose arms, half naked; locks untrussed be,  
With buskins laced on their legs above,  
And silken robes tucked short above their knee;  
Such seemed the sylvan daughters of this grove,  
Save that in stead of shafts and boughs of tree,  
She bore a lute, a harp or cittern she.   

28  
And wanton they cast them in a ring,  
And sung and danced to move her weaker sense,  
Rinaldo round about environing,  
As centres are with their circumference;  
The tree they compassed eke, and 'gan to sing,  
That woods and streams admired their excellence;  
Welcome dear Lord, welcome to this sweet grove,  
Welcome our Ladies hope, welcome her love;   

29  
Thou comest to cure our Princess, faint and sick  
For love, for love of thee, faint, sick, distressed;  
Late black, late dreadful was this forest thick,  
Fit dwelling for sad folk with grief oppressed,  
See with thy coming how the branches quick  
revived are, and in new blossoms dressed:  
This was their song, and after, from it went  
First a sweet sound, and then the myrtle rend.   

30  
If antic times admired Silenus old,  
That oft appeared set on his lazy ass,  
How would they wonder if they had behold  
Such sights as from the myrtle high did pass?  
Thence came a Lady fair with locks of gold,  
That like in shape, in face and beauty was  
To sweet Armida; Rinaldo thinks he spies  
Her gestures, smiles and glances of her eyes.   

31  
On him a sad and smiling look she cast,  
Which twenty passions strange at once bewrays,  
And art thou come (quoth she) returned at last  
To her, from whom but late thou ranst thy ways?  
comest thou to comfort me for sorrows past?  
To ease my widow nights, and careful days?  
Or comest thou to work me grief and harm?  
Why nilt thou speak? Why not thy face disarm?   

32  
comest thou a friend or foe? I did not frame  
That golden bridge to entertain my foe,  
Nor opened flowers and fountains as you came,  
To welcome him with joy that brings me woe:  
Put off thy helm, rejoice me with the flame  
Of thy bright eyes, whence first my fires did grow:  
Kiss me, embrace me, if you further venture,  
Love keeps the gate, the fort is each to enter.   

33  
Thus as she wowes, she rowles her rueful eyes,  
With piteous look, and changeth oft her cheer,  
An hundredth sighs from her false heart upflies,  
She sobs, she mourns, it is great ruth to hear,  
The hardest breast sweet pity mollifies,  
What stony heart resists a woman's tear?  
But yet the knight, wise, wary, not unkind,  
Drew forth his sword and from her careless twinned.   

34  
Towards the tree he Marched, she thither start,  
Before him stepped, embraced the plant and cried,  
Ah, never do me such a spiteful part,  
To cut my tree, this forests joy and pride,  
Put up thy sword, else pierce therewith the heart  
Of thy forsaken and despised Armide;  
For through this breast, and through this heart (unkind)  
To this fair tree thy sword shall passage find.   

35  
He list his brand, nor cared though oft she prayed,  
And she her form to other shape did change;  
Such monsters huge, when men in dreams are laid,  
Oft in their idle fancies roam and range:  
Her body swelled, her face obscure was maid,  
Vanished her garments rich, and vestures strange,  
A giantess before him high she stands,  
Like Briareus armed with an hundredth hands:   

36  
With fifty swords, and fifty targets bright,  
She threatened death, she roared, cried and fought,  
Each other nymph in armour likewise dight,  
A Cyclops great became: he feared them nought,  
But on the myrtle smote with all his might,  
That groaned like living souls to death nigh brought,  
The sky seemed Pluto's court, the air seemed hell,  
Therein such monsters roar, such spirits yell:   

37  
Lightened the heaven above, the earth below  
Roared aloud, that thundered, and this shook;  
Blustered the tempests strong, the whirlwinds blow,  
The bitter storm drove hailstones in his look;  
But yet his arm grew neither weak nor slow,  
Nor of that fury heed or care he took,  
Till low to earth, the wounded tree down bended,  
Then fled the spirits all, the charms all ended.   

38  
The heavens grew clear, the air waxed calm and still,  
The wood returned to his wont state,  
Of witchcrafts free, quite void of spirits ill,  
Of horror full, but horror there innate;  
He further proved if aught withstood his will  
To cut those trees, as did the charms of late,  
And finding nought to stop him, smiled, and said,  
O shadows vain! O fools of shades afraid!   

39  
From thence home to the campward turned the knight,  
The hermit cried upstarting from his seat,  
Now of the wood the charms have lost their might,  
The spirits are conquered, ended is the feat,  
See where he comes, in glistering white all dight  
Appeared the man, bold, stately, high and great,  
His eagle's silver wings to shine begun,  
With wondrous splendure 'gainst the golden sun.   

40  
The camp received him with a joyful cry,  
A cry the dales and hills about that filled;  
Then Godfrey welcomed him with honours hie,  
His glory quenched all spite, all envy killed:  
To yonder dreadful grove (quoth he) went I,  
And from the fearful wood (as me you wild)  
Have driven the spirits away, thither let be  
Your people sent, the way is safe and free.   

41  
Sent were the workmen thither, thence they brought  
Timber enough, by good advise select,  
And though, by skilless builders framed and wrought,  
Their engines rude and rams were late elect,  
Yet now the forts and towers (from whence they fought)  
Were framed by a cunning architect,  
William, of all the Genoa's Lord and guide,  
Which late ruled all the seas from side to side;   

42  
But forced to retire from him at last,  
The Pagan fleet the seas moist empire won,  
His men with all their stuff and store in haste  
Home to the camp with their commander run,  
In skill, in wit, in cunning him surpassed  
Yet never engineer beneath the sun,  
Of Carpenters an hundredth large he brought,  
That what their Lord devised made and wrought.   

43  
This man begun with wondrous art to make,  
Not rams, not mighty brakes, not slings alone,  
Wherewith the firm and solid walls to shake,  
To cast a dart or throw a shaft or stone;  
But framed of Pines and Firres, did undertake  
To build a fortress huge, to which was none  
Yet ever like, whereof he clothed the sides  
Against the balls of fire, with raw bulls hides;   

44  
In mortesses and sockets framed just,  
The beams, the studs and punchions joined he fast;  
To beat the city's wall, beneath forth burst  
A ram with horned front, about her waist  
A bridge the engine from her side out thrust,  
Which on the wall when need required she cast;  
And from her top a turret small upstood,  
Strong, surely armed, and builded of like wood:   

45  
Set on an hundredth wheels the rolling mass,  
On the smooth lands went nimbly up and down,  
Though full of arms and armed men it was;  
Yet with small pains it ran, as it had flown,  
Wondered the camp so quick to see it pass,  
They praised the workmen, and their skill unknown,  
And on that day two towers they builded more,  
Like that which sweet Clorinda burned before.   

46  
Yet wholly were not from the Saracines  
Their works concealed, and their labours hid,  
Upon that wall which next the camp confines,  
They placed spies who marked all they did:  
They saw the ashes wild and squared Pines  
How to the tents (trailed from the grove) they slid;  
And engines huge they saw, yet could not tell  
How they were built, their forms they saw not well,   

47  
Their engines eke they reared, and with great art  
Repaired each bulwark, turret, port and tower,  
And fortified the plain and easy part,  
To bide the storm of every warlike stowre,  
Till as they thought no sleight, or force of mart,  
To undermine or scale the same had power:  
And false Ismeno 'gan new balls prepare  
Of wicked fire, wild, wondrous, strange and rare.   

48  
He mingled brimstone with Bitumen fell  
Fetch from that lake where Sodom erst did sink,  
And from that flood which nine times compassed hell,  
Some of the liquor hot he brought, I think,  
Wherewith the quenchless fire he tempered well,  
To make it smoke and flame and deadly stink;  
And for his wood cut dówne the aged sire  
Would thus revengement take, with flame and fire.   

49  
While thus the camp, and thus the town were bend,  
These to assault, these to defend the wall,  
A speedy dove through the clear welkin went,  
Strait o'er the tents, seen by the soldiers all  
With nimble fans the yielding air she rend,  
Nor seemed it that she would alight or fall,  
Till she arrived near that besieged town,  
Then from the clouds at last she stooped down:   

50  
But lo (from whence I nolte) a falcon came,  
Armed with crooked bill and talons long,  
And twixt the camp and city crossed her game,  
That durst not bide her foes encounter strong;  
But right upon the royal tent down came,  
And there the Lords and princes great among,  
(When the sharp hawk nigh touched her tender head)  
In Godfrey's lap she fell, with fear half dead:   

51  
The Duke received her, saved her, and spied,  
As he beheld the bird, a wondrous thing,  
About her neck a letter close was tied,  
By a small thread, and trust under her wing,  
He loosed forth the writ and spread it wide,  
And read th'intent thereof, To Judaies' king,  
(Thus said the schedule) honours high increase  
Th'Egyptian chieftain wisheth, health and peace:   

52  
Fear not (renowned prince) resist, endure  
Till the third day, or till the fourth at most,  
I come and your deliverance will procure,  
And kill your coward foes and all their host.  
This secret in that brief was closed up sure,  
Writ in strange language, to the winged post  
Given to transport for in their warlike need;  
The East such message used, oft with good speed.   

53  
The Duke let go the captive dove at large,  
And she that had his counsel close bewrayed,  
Traitress to her great Lord touched not the marge  
Of Salems' town, but fled far thence afraid;  
The Duke before all those, which had or charge  
Or office high, the letter red, and said;  
See how the goodness of the Lord foreshoes  
The secret purpose of our crafty foes.   

54  
No longer than let us protract the time,  
But scale the bulwark of this fortress high,  
Through sweat and labour 'gainst those rocks sublime  
Let us ascend, which to the Southward lie;  
Hard will it be that way in arms to climb,  
But yet the place and passage both know I,  
And that high wall by sci●e strong on that part,  
Is least defenst by arms, by work and art.   

55  
Thou Raimond, on this side with all thy might  
Assault the wall, and by those crags ascend,  
My squadrons with mine engines huge shall fight,  
And 'gainst the Northern gate my puissance bend;  
That so our foes beguiled with the sight,  
Our greatest force and power shall there attend,  
While my great tower from thence shall nimbly slide,  
And batter down some worse defended side;   

56  
Camillo thou not far from me shalt rear  
Another tower, close to the walls ibrought.  
This spoken, Raimond old that sat him near,  
(And while he talkte great things tossed in his thought)  
Said, to Godfredoes counsel given us hear,  
Nought can be added, from it taken nought:  
Yet this I further wish that some were sent  
To spy their camp, their secret and intent;   

57  
That may their number and their squadrons brave  
Describe, and through their tents disguised mask:  
Quoth Tancred, lo, a subtle squire I have,  
A person fit to undertake this task,  
A man, quick, ready, bold, sly to deceive,  
To answer, wise; and well advised to ask;  
Well languaged, and that with time and place  
Can change his look, his voice, his gate, his grace.   

58  
Sent for he came, and when his lord him told  
What Godfrey's pleasure was, and what his own;  
He smiled, and said forthwith he gladly would,  
I go quoth he, careless what chance be thrown,  
And where encamped be these Pagans bold,  
Will walk, in every tent a spy unknown,  
Their camp even at noon day I enter shall,  
And number all their horse and footmen all;   

59  
How great, how strong, how armed this army is,  
And what their guide intends, I will declare,  
To me the secrets of that heart of his,  
And hidden thoughts shall open lie and bare.  
Thus Vafrine spoke, nor longer stayed on this,  
But for a mantle changed the cote he ware,  
Nakte was his neck, and 'bout his forehead bold,  
Of linen whitefull twenty yards he rolled;   

60  
His weapons were a Syrian bow and quiver,  
His gestures barbarous, like the Turkish train,  
Wondered all they that heard his tongue deliver  
Of every land the language true and plain,  
In Tite, a borne Phenician, by the river  
Of Nile, a knight bred in th'Egyptian main,  
Both people would have thought him, forth he rides  
On a swift stead, o'er hills and dales that glides.   

61  
But ere the third day came the French forth sent  
Their pioneers to e'en the rougher ways,  
And ready made each warlike instrument,  
Nor ought their labour interrupts or stays;  
The nights in busy toil they likewise spent,  
And with long evenings lenghtned forth short days,  
Till nought was left the hosts that hinder might,  
To use their utmost power, and strength in fight.   

62  
That day, which of th'assault the day foreronne,  
The godly Duke in prayer spent wellnigh,  
And all the rest, because they had misdonne,  
The Sacrament receive, and mercy cry;  
Then oft the Duke his engines great begun  
To show, where least he would their strength apply;  
His foes reioised, deluded in that sort,  
To see them bend against their surest port:   

63  
But after aided by the friendly night  
His greatest engine to that side he brought,  
Where plainest seemed the wall, where with their might  
The flankers lest could hurt them as they fought,  
And to the southrens mountains greatest height  
To raise his turret old Raimondo sought;  
And thou Camillo on that part hadst thine,  
Where from the North the walls did Westward twine.   

64  
But when amid the Estren heaven appeared  
The rising morning bright as shining glass,  
The troubled Pagans saw, and seeing feared,  
How the great tower stood not where late it was,  
And here and there tofore unseen was reared,  
Of timber strong a huge and fearful mass,  
And numberless with beams, with ropes and strings  
They view the iron rams, the brakes and slings.   

65  
The Syrian people now were no whit slow,  
Their best defences to that side to bear,  
Where Godfrey did his greatest engine show,  
From thence where late in vain they placed wear;  
But he who at his back rightwell did know,  
The host of Egypt to be proaching near,  
To him called Guelfo, and the Robert's twain,  
And said, on horseback look you still remain,   

66  
And have regard while all our people strive  
To scale this wall, where weak it seems and thin,  
Lest unawares some sudden host arrive,  
And at our backs unlookte for war begin.  
This said, three fierce assaults at once they give,  
The hardy soldiers all would die or win,  
And on three parts resistance makes the king,  
And rage 'gainst strength, despair 'gainst hope doth bring;   

67  
Himself upon his limbs with feeble eild  
That shook, (unwieldy with their proper weight,)  
His armour laid and long unused shield,  
And Marched 'gainst Raimond to the mountains height:  
Great Soliman 'gainst Godfrey took the field,  
Forenenst Camillo stood Argantes straight  
Where Tancred strong he found, so fortune will,  
That this good Prince his wont foe shall kill.   

68  
The archers shot their arrows sharp and keen  
Dipped in the bitter juice of poison strong,  
The shady face of heaven was scantly seen,  
Hid with the clouds of shafts and quarries long;  
Yet weapons sharp with greater fury been,  
Cast from the towers the Pagan troops among,  
For thence flew stones and cliffs of marble rocks,  
Trees shod with iron, timber, logs and blocks.   

69  
A thunderbolt seemed every stone, it broke  
His limbs and armours so on whom it light,  
That life and soul it did not only take,  
But all his shape and face disfigured quite;  
The lances staid not in the wounds they make,  
But through the gored body took their flight,  
From side to side, through flesh, through skin and rind  
They flew, and flying, left sad death behind.   

70  
But yet not all this force and fury drove  
The Pagan people to forsake the wall,  
But to revenge these deadly blows they strove,  
With darts that fly, with stones and trees that fall;  
For need so cowards oft courageous prove,  
For liberty they fight, for life and all,  
And oft with arrows, shafts and stones that fly,  
Give bitter answer to a sharp reply.   

71  
This while the fierce assailants never cease,  
But sternly still maintain a threefold charge,  
And 'gainst the clouds of shafts draw nigh at ease,  
Under a pentise made of many a targe,  
The armed towers close to the bulwarks press,  
And strive to grapple with the battled marge,  
And launch their bridges out, meanwhile below  
With iron fronts the rams the walls down throw.   

72  
Yet still Rinaldo unresolved went,  
And far unworthy him this service thought,  
If 'mongst the common sort his pains he spent;  
Renown so got the Prince esteemed nought:  
His angry looks on every side he bent,  
And where most harm, most danger was he sought,  
And where the wall high, strong and surest was,  
That part would he assault, and that way pas.   

73  
And turning to the worthies him behind,  
All hardy knights, whom Dudon late did guide,  
O shame (quoth he) this wall no war doth find,  
When battered is elsewhere each part, each side;  
All pain is safety to a valiant mind,  
Each way is each to him that dares abide,  
Come let us scale this wall, though strong and high,  
And with your shields keep off the darts that fly:   

74  
With him united all while thus he spoke,  
Their targets hard above their heads they threw,  
Which joined in one an iron pentise make,  
That from the dreadful storm preserved the crew,  
Defended thus their speedy course they take,  
And to the wall without resistance drew,  
For that strong penticle protected well  
The knights, from all that flew and all that fell.   

75  
Against the fort Rinaldo 'gan uprear  
A ladder huge, an hundredth steps of height,  
And in his arm the same did easily bear,  
And move, as winds do reeds or rushes light,  
Sometime a tree, a rock, a dart, or spear,  
Fell from above, yet forward climbed the knight,  
And upward fearless pressed, careless still,  
Though mount Olympus fell or Ossa hill:   

76  
A mount of ruins, and of shafts a wood  
Upon his shoulders and his shield he bore,  
One hand the ladder held whereon he stood,  
The other bore his targe his face before;  
His hardy troop, by his ensample good  
Provoked, with him the place assaulted sore,  
And ladders long against the wall they clap,  
Unlike in courage yet, unlike in hap:   

77  
One died, an other fell, he forward went,  
And these he comforts, and he threateneth those,  
Now with his hand outstretched the battlement  
Welnie he reached, when all his armed foes  
Ran thither, and their force and fury bend  
To throw him headlong down, yet up he goes,  
A wondrous thing, one knight whole armed bands  
Alone, and hanging in the air, withstands:   

78  
Withstands, and forceth his great strength so far,  
That like a palm whereon huge weight doth rest,  
His forces so resisted stronger are,  
His virtues higher rise the more oppressed,  
Till all that would his entrance bold debar  
He backward drove, upleaped, and possessed  
The wall, and safe and easy with his blade,  
To all that after came, the passage made,   

79  
There killing such as durst and did withstand,  
To noble Eustace that was like to fall,  
He reached forth his friendly conquering hand,  
And next himself helped him to mount the wall.  
This while Godfredo and his people found  
Their lives to greater harms and dangers thrall,  
For there not man with man, nor knight with knight  
Contend, but engines there with engines fight.   

80  
For in that place the Paynims reared a post,  
Which late had served some gallant ship for mast,  
And over it another beam they crossed,  
Pointed with iron sharp, to it made fast  
With ropes, which as men would the dormant tossed,  
Now out, now in, now back, now forward cast,  
In his swift pulleys oft the men withdrew  
The tree, and oft the riding baulk forth threw:   

81  
The mighty beam redoubled oft his blows,  
And with such force the engine smote and hit,  
That her broad side the tower wide open throws,  
Her joints were broke, her rafters cleft and split;  
But yet 'gainst every hap whence mischief grows  
Prepared, the piece ('gainst such extremes made fit)  
Launch forth two scythes, sharp, cutting, long & broad,  
And cut the ropes whereon the engine road:   

82  
As an old rock, which age or stormy wind  
Tears from some craggy hill or mountain steep,  
Doth break, doth bruise, and into dust doth grind  
Woods, houses, hamlets, herds, and fold of sheep;  
So fell the beam, and down with it all kind  
Of arms, of weapons, and of men did sweep,  
Wherewith the towers once or twice did shake,  
Trembled the walls, the hills and mountains quake.   

83  
Victorious Godfrey boldly forward came,  
And had great hope even then the place to win;  
But lo a fire, with stinch, with smoke, and flame,  
Withstood his passage, stopped his entrance in:  
Such burnings Aetna yet could never frame,  
When from her entrails hot her fires begin,  
Nor yet in summer on the Indian plain  
Such vapours warm, from scorching air, down rain.   

84  
There balls of wild fire, there fly burning spears,  
This flame was black, that blue; this red as blood;  
Stinch wellnigh choketh them, noise deafs their ears,  
Smoke blinds their eyes, fire kindleth on the wood;  
Nor those raw hides which for defence it wears,  
Can save the tower, in such distress it stood;  
For now they wrinkle, now it sweats and fries,  
Now burns, unless some help come down from skies.   

85  
The hardy Duke before his folk abides,  
Nor changed he colour, countenance or place,  
But comforts those that from the scaldred hides,  
With water strove th'approaching flames to chase:  
In these extremes the Prince and those he guides  
Half roasted stood before fierce Vulcan's face,  
When lo a sudden and unlooked for blast,  
The flames against the kindlers backward cast:   

86  
The winds drove back the fire where heaped lie  
The pagan's weapons, where their engines wear,  
Which kindling quickly in that substance dry,  
Burnt all their store and all their warlike gear:  
O glorious captain! whom the Lord from high  
Defends, whom God preserves, and holds so dear;  
For thee heaven fights, to thee the winds (from far,  
Called with thy trumpets blast) obedient are.   

87  
But wicked Ismen to his harm that saw,  
How the fierce blast drove back the fire and flame,  
By art would nature change, and thence withdraw  
Those noisome winds, else calm and still the same;  
Twixt two false Wizards without fear or awe  
Upon the walls in open sight he came,  
Black, grisly, loathsome, grim and ugly faced,  
Like Pluto old, betwixt two furies placed;   

88  
And now the wretch those dreadful words begun,  
Which tremble make deep hell and all her flock,  
Now troubled is the air, the golden sun  
His fearful beams in clouds did close and lock,  
When from the tower (which Ismen could not shun)  
Out flew a mighty stone, late half a rock,  
Which light so just upon the Wizards three,  
That driven to dust their bones and bodies be.   

89  
To less than nought their members old were torn,  
And shivered were their heads to pieces small,  
As small, as are the bruised grains of corn,  
When from the mill resolved to meal they fall;  
Their damned souls to deepest hell down borne  
(Far from the joy and light celestial)  
The furies plunged in th'infernal lake,  
O mankind! at their ends ensample take.   

90  
This while the engine which the tempest could,  
Had saved from burning with his friendly blast,  
Approached had so near the battered hold,  
That on the walls her bridge at ease she cast:  
But Soliman ran thither fierce and bold,  
To cut the plank whereon the Christians past,  
And had performed his will, save that upreard  
High in the skies a turret new appeared;   

91  
far in the air up climbed the fortress tall  
Higher than house, than steeple, church or tower;  
The Pagans trembled to behold the wall,  
And city subject to her shot and power;  
Yet kept the Turk his stand, though on him fall  
Of stones and darts a sharp and deadly shower,  
And still to cut the bridge, he hopes and strives,  
And those that fear, with cheerful speech revives.   

92  
The angel Michael to all the rest  
Unseen, appeared before Godfredoes eyes,  
In pure and heavenly armour richly dressed,  
Brighter than Titan's rays in clearest skies;  
Godfrey (quoth he) this is the moment blest  
To free this town that long in bondage lies,  
See, see what legions in thine aid I bring,  
For heaven assists thee, and heavens glorious king:   

93  
Lift up thine eyes and in the air behold  
The sacred armies, how they mustered be,  
That cloud of flesh in which from times of old  
All mankind wrapped is, I take from thee,  
And from thy senses their thick mist unfold,  
That face to face thou Mayst these spirits see,  
And for a little space, right well sustain  
Their glorious light, and view those angels plain.   

94  
Behold the souls of every Lord and knight  
That late bore arms and died for Christ's dear sake,  
How on thy side against this town they fight,  
And of thy joy and conquest will partake:  
There where the dust and smoke blind all men's sight,  
Where stones and ruins such an heap do make,  
There Hugo fights, in thickest cloud imbard,  
And undermines that bulwarks groundwork hard.   

95  
See Dudon yonder, who with sword and fire  
Assails and helps to scale the Northern port,  
That with bold courage doth thy folk inspire,  
And rears their ladders 'gainst th'assaulted fort:  
He that high on the mount in grave attire  
Is clad, and crowned stands in kingly sort,  
Is Bishop Ademare, a blessed spirit,  
Blest for his faith, crowned for his death and merit.   

96  
But higher lift thy happy eyes, and view  
Where all the sacred hosts of heaven appear;  
He looked, and saw where winged armies flew,  
Innumerable, pure, divine, and clear;  
A battle round of squadrons three they show,  
And all by three those squadrons ranged wear,  
Which spreading wide in rings, still wider go,  
Moved with a stone, calm water circleth so.   

97  
With that he winkte and vanished was and gone  
That wondrous vision when he looked again,  
His worthies fight viewed he one by one,  
And on each side saw signs of conquest plain,  
For with Rinaldo 'gainst his yielding fone,  
His knights were entered and the Pagans slain.  
This seen, the Duke no longer stay could brook,  
But from the bearer bold his ensign took:   

98  
And on the bridge he stepped, but there was stayed  
By Soliman, who entrance all denied,  
That narrow tree to virtue great was maid,  
The field as in few blows right soon was tried,  
Here will I give my life for zions aid,  
Here will I end my days, the sultan cried,  
Behind me cut, or break this bridge, that I  
May kill a thousand Christians first, then die.   

99  
But thither fierce Rinaldo threatening went,  
And at his sight fled all the sultan's train,  
What shall I do? if here my life be spent,  
I spend and spill (quoth he) my blood in vain:  
With that his steps from Godfrey back he bent,  
And to him let the passage free remain,  
Who threatening followed as the sultan fled,  
And on the walls the purple cross dispred,   

100  
About his head he tossed, he turned, he cast  
That glorious ensign, with a thousand twines,  
Thereon the wind breathes with his sweetest blast,  
Thereon with golden rays glad Phoebus shines,  
Earth laughs for joy, the streams forbear their haste,  
Floods clap their hands, on mountains dance the pines,  
And zions towers and sacred temples smile,  
For their deliu'rance from that bondage vile.   

101  
And now the armies reared the happy cry  
Of victory, glad, joyful, loud and shrill,  
The hills resound, the echo showteth high,  
And Tancred bold that fights and combats still,  
With proud Argantes, brought his tower so nigh,  
That on the wall, against the boasters will,  
In his despite, his bridge he also laid,  
And won the place, and there the cross displayed.   

102  
But on the Southern hill (where Raimond fought,  
Against the townsmen and their aged king)  
His hardy Gascoignes gained small or nought;  
Their engine to the walls they could not bring,  
For thither all his strength the Prince had brought,  
For life and safety sternly combating,  
And for the wall was feeblest on that cost,  
There were his soldiers best, and engines most.   

103  
Besides, the tower upon that quarter found  
Unsure, uneasy, and vneeu'n the way,  
Nor art could help, but that the rougher ground  
The rolling mass did often stop and stay;  
But now of victory the joyful sound  
The king and Raimond heard, amid their fray;  
And by the shout they and their soldiers know,  
The town was entered on the plain below.   

104  
Which heard, Raimondo thus bespoke this crew,  
The town is won (my friends) and doth it yet  
Resist? are we kept out still by these few?  
Shall we no share in this high conquest get?  
But from that part the king at last withdrew,  
He strove in vain their entrance there to let,  
And to a stronger place his folk he brought,  
Where to sustain th'assault a while he thought.   

105  
The conquerors at once now entered all,  
The walls were won, the gates were opened wide,  
Now bruised, broken down, destroyed fall  
The ports, and towers, that battery durst abide;  
Rageth the sword, death murdereth great and small,  
And proud twixt woe and horror sad doth tied,  
Here run the blood, in ponds there stands the gore,  
And drowns the knights in whom it lived before.    

The nineteenth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

Tancred in single combat kills his foe  
Argantes strong: the king and Seldan fly  
To David's tower and save their persons so:  
Erminia well instructs Vafrine the spy,  
With him she rides away, and as they go  
Finds where her Lord for dead on earth doth lie;  
First she laments, then cures him: Godfrey hears  
Ormondocs' treason and what marks he bears.   

1  
NOW death, or fear, or care to save their lives,  
From their forsaken walls the Pagans chase:  
Yet neither force, nor fear, nor wisdom drives  
The constant knight Argantes, from his place;  
Alone, against ten thousand foes he strives,  
Yet dreedlesse, doubtless, careless seemed his face,  
Not death, not danger, but disgrace he fears,  
And still unconquered (though oreset) appears.   

2  
But 'mongst the rest upon his helmet gay  
With his broad sword Tancredic came and smote:  
The Pagan knew the Prince by his array,  
By his strong blows, his armour and his cote;  
For once they fought, and when night stayed that fray,  
New time they chose to end their combat hot,  
But Tancred failed, wherefore the Pagan knight  
Cried, (Tancred) comest thou thus, thus late to fight?   

3  
Too late thou comest and not alone to war,  
But yet the fight I neither shun nor fear,  
Although from knighthood true thou errest far,  
Since like an engineer thou dost appear,  
That tower, that troop, thy shield and safety are,  
Strange kind of arms in single fight to bear;  
Yet shalt thou not escape (O conqu'rer strong  
Of Ladies fair) sharp death, to venge that wrong.   

4  
Lord Tancred smiled, with disdain and scorn,  
And answered thus, to end our strife (quoth he)  
Behold at last I come, and my return  
(Though late) perchance will be too soon for thee;  
For thou shalt wish (of hope and help forlorn)  
Some sea or mountain placed twixt thee and me,  
And well shalt know before we end this fray,  
No fear or cowardice hath caused my stay.   

5  
But come aside thou, by whose prowess dies  
The monsters, knights and giants in all lands,  
The killer of weak women thee defies.  
This said, he turned to his fight bands  
And bids them all retire, forbear he cries  
To strike this knight, on him let none lay hands;  
For mine he is (more than a common foe)  
By challenge new and promise old also.   

6  
Descend (the fierce Circassian 'gan reply)  
Alone, or all this troop for succour take  
To deserts waste, or place frequented high,  
For vantage none I will the fight forsake:  
Thus given and taken was the bold defy,  
And through the press (agreed so) they broke,  
Their hatred made them one, and as they wend  
Each knight his foe did for despite defend.   

7  
Great was his thirst of praise, great the desire  
That Tancred had the Pagans blood to spill,  
Nor could that quench his wrath, or calm his ire,  
If other hand his foe should foil or kill,  
He saved him with his shield, and cried retire  
To all he met, and do this knight none ill:  
And thus defending 'gainst his friends his foe,  
Through thousand angry weapons safe they go.   

8  
They left the city, and they left behind  
Godfredoes camp, and far beyond it past,  
And came where into creeks and bosoms blind  
A winding hill his corners turned and cast,  
A valley small and shady dale they find,  
Amid the mountains steep so laid and placed,  
As it some Theatre or closed place  
Had been, for men to fight, or beasts to chase,   

9  
There staid the champions both, with rueful eyes  
Argantes 'gan the fortress won to view;  
Tancred his foe withouten shield espies,  
And far away his target therefore threw,  
And said, whereon doth thy sad heart devies?  
Thinkest thou this hour must end thy life untrue?  
If this thou fear, and dost foresee thy fate,  
Thy fear is vain, thy foresight comes too late.   

10  
I think (quoth he) on this distressed town,  
The aged Queen of Judaies' ancient land,  
Now lost, now sacked, spoiled and trodden down,  
Whose fall in vain I strived to withstand,  
A small revenge for zions for't orethrnowne  
That head can be cut offby my strong hand;  
This said, together with great heed they flew,  
For each his foe for bold and hardy knew:   

11  
Tancred of body active was and light,  
Quick, nimble, ready both of hand and fout:  
But higher by the head the Pagan knight,  
Of limbs far greater was, of heart as stout:  
Tancred laid low and traversed in his fight,  
Now to his ward retired, now struck out,  
Oft with his sword his foes fierce blows he broke,  
And rather chose to ward, than bear his stroke.   

12  
But bold, and bolt upright Argantes fought,  
Unlike in gesture, like in skill and art,  
His sword out stretched before him far he brought;  
Nor would his weapon touch, put pierce his heart,  
To catch his point prince Tancred strove and sought,  
But at his breast or helms unclosed part  
He threatened death, and would with stretched out brand  
His entrance close, and fierce assaults withstand.   

13  
With a tall ship so doth a galley fight,  
When the still winds stir not th'unstable main,  
Where this in nimbleness, as that in might,  
Excels; that stands, this goes and comes again,  
And shifts from prow to poop with turnings light;  
Meanwhile the other doth unmoved remain,  
And on her numble foe approacheth nigh,  
Her weighty engines tumbleth down from high:   

14  
The christian sought to enter on his foe,  
Voiding his point, which at his breast was bend;  
Argantes at his face a thrust did throe,  
Which while the prince awards, and doth prevent,  
His ready hand the Pagan turned so,  
That all defence his quickens far orewent,  
And pierced his side, which done he said and smiled,  
The craftsman is in his own craft beguiled:   

15  
Tancredie bitten his lips for scorn and shame,  
Nor longer stood on points of fence and skill,  
But to revenge so fierce and fast he came,  
As if his hand could not o'ertake his will,  
And at his viso aiming just, 'gan frame  
To his proud boast an answer sharp, but still  
Argantes broke the thrust; and at half sword,  
Swift, hardy, bold, in stepped the christian lord.   

16  
With his left foot fast forward 'gan he stride,  
And with his left the Pagans right arm hent,  
With his right hand meanwhile the man's right side  
He cut, he wounded, mangled, tore, and rend,  
To his victorious teacher (Tancred cried)  
His conquered scholar hath this answer sent;  
Argantes chafed, struggled, turned and twinned,  
Yet could not so his captive arm unbind:   

17  
His sword at last he let hang by the chain,  
And gripped his hardy foe in both his hands,  
In his strong arms Tancred caught him again,  
And thus each other held and wrapped in bands.  
With greater might Alcides did not strain,  
The giant Antheus on the Libyan sands,  
On holdfast knots their brawny arms they cast,  
And whom he hateth most, each held embraced:   

18  
Such was their wrestling, such their shocks and throws,  
That down at once they tumbled both to ground,  
Argantes (were it hap or skill who knows)  
His better hand lose and in freedom found;  
But the good prince his hand more fit for blows  
With his huge weight the Pagan underbound;  
But he, his disadvantage great that knew,  
Let go his hold, and on his feet upflew:   

19  
far flower rose th'unwieldy Saracine,  
And caught a rap ere he was reared upright.  
But as against the blustering winds a pine  
Now bends his top, now lifts his head on height,  
His courage so (when it 'gan most decline)  
The man r'enforced, and advanced his might,  
And with fierce change of blows renewed the fray,  
Where rage, for skill: horror, for art bore sway.   

20  
The purple drops from Tancred's sides down railed,  
But from the Pagan ran whole streams of blood,  
Wherewith his force grew weak, his courage quailed,  
As fires die which fuel want or food.  
Tancred that saw his feeble arm now failed  
To strike his blows, that scant he stirred or stood,  
Assuaged his anger and his wrath alaid,  
And stepping back, thus gently spoke and said.   

21  
Yield hardy knight, and chance of war, or me  
Confess to have subdued thee in this fight,  
I will no trophy, triumph, spoil of thee,  
Nor glory wish, nor seek a victor's right:  
More terrible than erst, herewith grew he,  
And all awaked, his fury, rage and might,  
And said, darest thou of vantage speak or think?  
Or move Argantes once to yield or shrink?   

22  
Use, use, thy vantage, thee and fortune both  
I scorn, and punish will thy foolish pride:  
As a hot brand flames most ere it forth goeth,  
And dying blazeth bright on every side;  
So he (when blood was lost) with anger wroth,  
reviv'd his courage, when his puissance died,  
And would his latest hour which now drew nigh  
Illustrate with his end, and nobly die;   

23  
He joined his left hand to her sister strong,  
And with them both let fall his weighty blade.  
Tancred to ward his blow his sword up flung,  
But that it smote aside, nor there it stade,  
But from his shoulder to his side along  
It glanced, and many wounds at once it made:  
Yet Tancred feared nought, for in his heart,  
Found coward dread no place, fear had no part.   

24  
His fearful blow he doubled, but he spent  
His force in waist, and all his strength in vain:  
For Tancred from the blow against him bend  
Leapt aside, the stroke fell on the plain,  
With thine own weight o'erthrown to earth thou went  
(Argantes stout) nor couldst thyself sustain,  
Thyself thou threwest down, O happy man!  
Upon whose fall none boast, or triumph can:   

25  
His gaping wounds the fall set open wide,  
The streams of blood about him made a lake,  
Helped with his left hand on one knee he tried  
To rear himself, and new defence to make:  
The courteous Prince stepped back, and yield thee, cried,  
No hurt he proffered him, no blow he struck.  
Meanwhile by stealth the Pagan false him gave  
A sudden wound, threatening with speeches brave:   

26  
Herewith Tancredie furious grew, and said,  
Villain, dost thou my mercy so despies?  
Therewith he thrust and thrust again his blade,  
And through his ventall pierced his dazzled eyes:  
Argantes died, yet no complaint he made,  
But as he furious lived, he careless dies;  
Bold, proud, disdainful, fierce and void of fear;  
His motions last, last looks, last speeches wear.   

27  
Tancred put up his sword, and praises glad  
Gave to his God, that saved him in this fight;  
But yet this bloody conquest feebled had  
So much the conquerors force, strength, and might,  
That through the way he feared which homeward lad  
He had not strength enough to walk upright;  
Yet as he could his steps from thence he bent,  
And foot by foot a heavy pace forth went;   

28  
His legs could bear him but a little stound,  
And more he hastes (more tired) less was his speed,  
On his right hand, at last, laid on the ground  
He leaned, his hand weak like a shaking reed,  
Dazzled his eyes, the world on wheels ran round;  
Day wrapped her brightness up in sable weed;  
At length he swooned, and the victor knight  
Nought diffred from his conquered foe in sight.   

29  
But while these Lords their private fight pursue,  
Made fierce and cruel through their secret hate,  
The victor's ire destroyed the faithless crew  
From street to street, and chased from gate to gate.  
But of the sacked town the image true  
Who can describe? or paint the woeful state?  
Or with fit words this spectacle express  
Who can? or tell the cities great distress?   

30  
Blood, murder, death, each street, house, church defiled,  
There heaps of slain appear, there mountains hie;  
There underneath th'unburied hills uppilde  
Of bodies dead, the living buried lie;  
There the sad mother with her tender child  
Doth tear her tresses loose, complain, and fly,  
And there the spoiler (by her Amber hair)  
Draws to his lust the virgin chaste and fair.   

31  
But through the way that to the West hill yood,  
Whereon the old and stately temple stands,  
All soiled with gore, and wet with lukewarm blood  
Rinaldo run, and chased the Pagan bands,  
Above their heads he heaved his curtle-axe good,  
Life in his grace, and death lay in his hands;  
Nor helm nor target strong his blows off bears,  
Best armed there seemed he, no arms that wears;   

32  
For 'gainst his armed foes he only bends  
His force, and scorns the naked folk to wound;  
Them whom no courage arms, no arms defends,  
He chased with his looks, and dreadful sound:  
Oh, who can tell how far his force extends?  
How these he scorns, threats those, lays them on ground?  
How with unequal harm, with equal fear  
Fled all, all that well armed or naked wear,   

33  
Fast fled the people weak, and with the same  
A squadron strong is to the temple gone,  
Which burned and builded oft, still keeps the name  
Of the first founder, wise king Salomone,  
That Prince this stately house did whilom frame  
Of Cedar trees, of gold and marble stone;  
Now not so rich, yet strong and sure it was,  
With turrets hie, thick walls, and doors of bras.   

34  
The knight arrived where in warlike sort  
The men that ample church had fortified,  
And closed found each wicket, gate and port,  
And on the top defences ready spied,  
He lift his frowning looks and twice that fort  
From his high top down to the groundwork eyed,  
And entrance sought, and twice with his swift fout  
The mighty place he measured about.   

35  
Like as a wolf about the closed fold  
Rangeth by night his hoped prey to get,  
Enraged with hunger, and with malice old,  
Which kind twixt him and harmless sheep hath set:  
So searched he high and low about that hold,  
Where he might enter without stop or let,  
In the great court he staid, his foes above  
Attend th'assault, and would their fortune prove.   

36  
There lay by chance a posted tree thereby,  
Kept for some needful use, what ere it were,  
The armed galleys not so thick nor hie  
Their tall and lofty masts at Genes uprear;  
This beam the knight against the gates made fly  
From his strong hands, all weights which lift and bear,  
Like a light lance the tree he shook and tossed,  
And bruised the gate, the threshold, and the post.   

37  
No marble stone, no metal strong outbore  
The wondrous might, of that redoubled blow,  
The brazen henges from the walls it tore,  
It breoke the locks, and laid the doors down low,  
No iron tamme, no engine could do more,  
Nor cannons great that thunderbolts forth throw,  
His people like a flowing stream inthrong,  
And after them entered the victor strong;   

38  
The woeful slaughter black and loathsome maid  
That house, sometime the sacred house of God,  
O heavenly justice! if thou be delayed  
On wretched sinners sharper falls thy rod,  
In them this place profaned which invaid  
Thou kindled ire, and mercy all forbade,  
Until with their heart bloods the Pagans vile  
This temple washed, which they did late defile.   

39  
But Soliman this while himself fast sped  
Up to the fort, which David's tower is named,  
And with him all the soldiers left he led,  
And 'gainst each entrance new defences framed:  
The tyrant Aladine eke thither fled,  
To whom the sultan thus (far off) exclaimed,  
Come, come, renowned king, up to this rock,  
Thyself, within this fortress safe uplocke:   

40  
For well this fortress shall thee and thy crown  
Defend, awhile here may we safe remain.  
Alas (quoth he) alas, for this fair town,  
Which cruel war beats down e'en with the plain,  
My life is done, mine empire trodden down,  
I rained, I lived, but now nor live nor rain;  
For now (alas) behold the fatal hour,  
That ends our lives, and ends our kingly power.   

41  
Where is your virtue, where your wisdom grave,  
And courage stout? the angry sultan said,  
Let chance our kingdoms take which erst she gave;  
Yet in our hearts our kingly worth is laid;  
But come and in this fort your person save,  
Refresh your weary limbs and strength decayed:  
Thus counselled he and did to safety bring,  
Within that fort the weak and aged king.   

42  
His iron mace in both his hands he hent,  
And on his thigh his trusty sword he tied,  
And to the entrance fierce and fearless went,  
And kept the strait, and all the French defied:  
The blows were mortal which he gave or lent,  
For whom he hit he slew, else by his side  
Laid low on earth, that all fled from the place  
Where they beheld that great and dreadful mace.   

43  
But old Raimondo with his hardy crew  
By chance came thither, to his great mishap,  
To that defended path the old man flew,  
And scorned his blows and him that kept the gap,  
He stroke his foe, his blow no blood forth drew,  
But on the front with that he caught a rap,  
Which in a swoon, low in the dust him laid,  
Wide open, trembling, with his arms displayed.   

44  
The Pagans gathered heart at last, though fear  
Their courage weak had put to flight but late,  
So that the conquerors repulsed wear,  
And beaten back, else slain before the gate:  
The sultan ('mongst the dead beside him near  
That saw Lord Raimond lie in such estate)  
Cried to his men, within these bars (quoth he)  
Come draw this knight, and let him captive be.   

45  
Forward they rushed to execute his word,  
But hard and dangerous that emprise they found,  
For none of Raimond's men forsook their Lord,  
But to their guide's defence they flocked round,  
Thence fury fights, hence pity draws the sword,  
Nor strive they for vile cause, or on light ground,  
The life and freedom of that champion brave,  
Those spoil, these would preserve, those kill, these save.   

46  
But yet at last (if they had longer fought)  
The hardy sultan would have won the field;  
For 'gainst his thundering mace availed nought  
Or helm of temper fine, or seu'nfold shield:  
But from each side great succour now was brought  
To his weak foes, now fit to faint and yield,  
And both at once to aid and help the same  
The sovereign Duke and young Rinaldo came.   

47  
As when a shepherd, raging round about  
That sees a storm with wind, hail, thunder, rain,  
(When gloomy clouds have days bright eye put out)  
His tender flocks drives from the open plain,  
To some thick grove or mountains shady fout,  
Where heavens fierce wrath they may unhurt sustain,  
And with his hook, his whistle and his cries  
Drives forth his fleecy charge, and with them flies:   

48  
So fled the sultan, when he 'gan descry  
This tempest come from angry war forth cast,  
The armours clashte and lightened 'gainst the sky,  
And from each side swords, weapons, fire out braced:  
He sent his folk up to the fortress high,  
To shun the furious storm, himself stayed last,  
Yet to the danger he gave place at length,  
For wit, his courage; wisdom, ruled his strength.   

49  
But scant the knight was safe the gate within,  
Scant closed were the doors, when having broke  
The bars, Rinaldo doth assault begin  
Against the port, and on the wicket stroke  
His matchless might, his great desire to win,  
His oath and promise, doth his wrath provoke,  
For he had sworn (nor should his word be vain)  
To kill the man that had Prince Sweno slain.   

50  
And now his armed hand that castle great  
Would have assaulted, and had shortly won,  
Nor safe perdie the sultan there a seat  
Had found his fatal foes sharp wrath to shun,  
Had not Godfredo sounded the retreat;  
For now dark shades to shroud the earth begun,  
Within the town the Duke would lodge that night  
And with the morn renew th'assault and fight.   

51  
With cheerful look thus to his folk he said,  
High God hath helped well his children dear,  
This work is done, the rest this night delayed  
Doth little labour bring, less doubt, no fear,  
This tower (our foes weak hope and latest aid)  
We conquer will, when sun shall next appear:  
Meanwhile with love and tender ruth go see  
And comfort those which hurt and wounded be;   

52  
Go cure their wounds which boldly ventured  
Their lives, and spilled their bloods to get this hold,  
That fitteth more this host for Christ forth led,  
Then thirst of vengeance, or desire of gold;  
Too much (ah) too much blood this day is shed!  
In some we too much haste to spoil behold,  
But I command no more you spoil and kill,  
And let a trumpet publish forth my will;   

53  
This said, he went where Raimond panting lay,  
Waked from the swoon wherein he late had been.  
Nor Soliman with countenance less gay  
Bespoke his troops, and kept his grief unseen;  
My friends, you are unconquered this day,  
In spite of fortune, still our hope is green,  
For underneath great shows of harm and fear,  
Our dangers small, our losses little wear:   

54  
Burnt are your houses, and your people slain,  
Yet safe your town is, though your walls be gone,  
For in yourselves and in your sovereign  
Consists your city, not in lime and stone;  
Your king is safe, and safe is all his train,  
In this strong fort defended from their fone,  
And on this empty conquest let them boast,  
Till with this town again, their lives be lost;   

55  
And on their heads the loss at last will light,  
For with good fortune proud and insolent,  
In spoil and murder spend they day and night,  
In riot, drinking, lust and ravishment,  
And may amid their praves with little fight  
At ease be overthrown, killed, slain and spent,  
If in this carelessness th'Egyptian host  
Upon them fall, which now draws near this coast.   

56  
Meanwhile the highest buildings of this town  
We may shake down with stones, about their ears,  
And with our darts and spears from engines thrown,  
Command that hill Christ's sepulchre that bears:  
Thus comforts he their hopes and hearts cast down,  
Awakes their valours, and exiles their fears.  
But while these things happed thus, Vafrino goes  
Unknown, amid ten thousand armed foes.   

57  
The sun nigh set had brought to end the day,  
When Vafrine went the Pagan host to spy,  
He passed unknown a close and secret way;  
A traveler, false, cunning, crafty, sly,  
Past Ascalon he saw the morning grey  
Step o'er the threshold of the Estren sky,  
And ere bright Titan, half his course had run,  
That camp, that mighty host to show begun.   

58  
Tents infinite and standards broad he spies,  
This red, that white, that blue, this purple was,  
And hears strange tongues, and stranger harmornies  
Of trumpets, clarions, and well sounding bras:  
The Elephant there braies, the camel cries;  
The horses neigh as to and fro they pass:  
Which seen and heard, he said within his thought,  
Hither all Asia is, all Afric, brought.   

59  
He viewed the camp awhile, her scite and seat,  
What ditch, what trench it had, what rampire strong,  
Nor close, nor secret ways to work his feat  
He longer sought, nor hide him from the throng;  
But entered through the gates, broad, royal, great,  
And of he asked, and answered oft among,  
In questions wise, in answers short and sly;  
Bold was his look, eyes quick, front lifted high:   

60  
On every side he pried here and there,  
And marked each way, each passage and each tent:  
The knights he notes, their steads, and arms they bear;  
Their names, their armours and their government,  
And greater secrets hopes to learn, and hear  
Their hidden purpose, and their close intent:  
So long he walked and wandered, till he spied  
The way t'approach the great pavilions side;   

61  
There as he looked, he saw the canvas rend,  
Through which the voice found each and open way,  
From the close lodgings of the regal tent,  
And inmost closet, where the captain lay;  
So that if Emireno spoke, forth went  
They sound to them that listen what they say,  
There Vafrine watched, and those that saw him thought  
To mend the breach, that there he stood and wrought.   

62  
The captain great within bare headed stood,  
His body armed and clad in purple weed;  
Two Pages bore his shield and helmet good,  
He leaning on a bending lance, gave heed  
To a big man, whose looks were fierce and prood,  
With whom he parled of some haughty deed,  
Godfredoes name as Vafrine watched he hard,  
Which made him give more heed, take more regard:   

63  
Thus spoke the chieftain to that surly sire,  
Art thou so sure that Godfrey shall be slain?  
I am (quoth he) and swear near to retire  
(Except he first be killed) to court again,  
I will prevent those that with me conspire:  
Nor other guerdon ask I for my pain,  
But that I may hang up his harness brave  
At Cairo, and under them these words engrave,   

64  
These arms Ormondo took in noble fight  
From Godfrey proud, that spoiled all Asia's lands,  
And with them took his life, and here on height  
(In memory thereof) this trophy stands.  
The Duke replied, near shall that deed (bold knight)  
Pass unrewarded at our sovereign's hands,  
What thou demandest shall he gladly grant,  
Nor gold nor guerdon shalt thou wish, or want.   

65  
Those counterfeited armours than prepare,  
Because the day of fight approacheth fast,  
They ready are (quoth he:) then both forbore  
From further talk, these speeches were the last.  
Vafrine (these great things heard) with grief and care  
Remained astounded, and in his thoughts oft cast  
What treason false this was, how feigned wear  
Those arms, but yet that doubt he could not clear.   

66  
From thence he parted, and broad waking lay  
All that long night, nor slumbered once nor slept:  
But when the camp by peep of springing day  
Their banners spread, and knights on horseback leapt,  
With them he marched forth in meet array,  
And where they pitched, lodged, and with them kept,  
And then from tent to tent he stalked about,  
To hear and see, and learn this secret out;   

67  
Searching about on a rich throne he found  
Armida set, with dames and knights around,  
Sullen she sat, and sighed, it seemed she scanned  
Some weighty matters in her thoughts profound,  
Her rosy cheek leaned on her lily hand,  
Her eyes (loves twinkling stars) she bent to ground,  
Weep she, or no, he knows not, yet appears  
Her humid eyes even great with child with tears.   

68  
He saw before her set Adrastus grim,  
That seemed scant to live, move, or respire,  
So was he fixed on his mistress trim,  
So gazed he, and fed his fond desire;  
But Tisiperne beheld now her, now him,  
And quakte, sometime for love, sometime for ire,  
And in his cheeks the colour went and came,  
For their wraths fire now burnt, now shone loves flame.   

69  
Then from the garland fair of virgins bright,  
('mongst whom he lay enclosed) rose Altamore,  
His hot desire he hid and kept from sight,  
His looks were ruled by Cupid's crafty lore,  
His left eye viewed her hand, her face; his right  
Both watched her beauties hid, and secret store,  
And entrance found where her thin vail bewrayed  
The milken way between her breasts that laid.   

70  
Her eyes Armida lift from earth at last,  
And cleared again her front and visage sad,  
Midst clouds of woe her looks which overcast  
She lightened forth a smile, sweet, pleasant, glad;  
My Lord (quoth she) your oath and promise past,  
Hath freed my heart of all the griefs it had,  
That now in hope of sweet revenge it lives,  
Such joy, such ease, desired vengeance gives.   

71  
Cheer up thy looks (answered the Indian king)  
And for sweet beauty's sake, appease thy woe,  
Cast at your feet ere you expect the thing,  
I will present the head of thy strong foe;  
Else shall this hand his person captive bring  
And cast in prison deep, he boasted so.  
His rival heard him well, yet answered nought,  
But bitten his lips, and grieved in secret thought.   

72  
To Tisiphern the damsel turning right,  
And what say you, my noble lord? (quoth she)  
He taunting said, I, that am slow to fight  
Will follow far behind, the worth to see  
Of this your terrible and puissant knight,  
In scornful words this bitter scoff gave he.  
Good reason (quoth the king) thou come behind,  
Nor ere compare thee with the prince of Ind.   

73  
Lord Tisiphernes shook his head, and said,  
Oh had my power free like my courage been,  
Or had I liberty to use this blade,  
Who slow, who weakest is, soon should be seen,  
Nor thou, nor thy great vaunts make me afraid,  
But cruel love I fear, and this fair Queen.  
This said, to challenge him the king forth leapt,  
But up their mistress start and twixt them stepped:   

74  
Will you thus rob me of that gift (quoth she)  
Which each hath vowed to giveby word and oath?  
You are my champions, let that title be  
The bond of love and peace, between you both;  
He that displeased is, is displeased with me,  
For which of you is grieved, and I not wroth?  
Thus warned she them, their hearts (for ire nigh broke)  
In forced peace and rest, thus bore loves yoke.   

75  
All this heard Vafrine as he stood beside,  
And having learned the troth, he left the tent,  
That treason was against the christians guide  
Contrived, he witted, yet witted not how it went,  
By words, and questions far off, he tried  
To find the truth, more difficult, more bend  
Was he to know it, and resolved to die,  
Or of that secret close th'intent to spy.   

76  
Of sly intelligence he proved all ways,  
All crafts, all wiles, that in his thoughts abide,  
Yet all in vain the man by wit assays,  
To know that false compact and practise hid:  
But chance (what wisdom could not tell) bewrays,  
Fortune of all his doubt the knots undid,  
So that prepared for godfreys last mishap  
(At ease) he found the net, and spied the trap.   

77  
Thither he turned again, where seated was  
The angry lover, twixt her friends and lords,  
For in that troop much talk he thought would pass,  
Each great assembly store of news affords,  
He sided there a lusty lovely 'las,  
And with some courtly terms the wench he boards,  
He feigns acquaintance, and as bold appears  
As he had known that virgin twenty years:   

78  
He said, would some sweet Lady grace me so,  
To choose me for her champion, friend, and knight,  
Proud godfreys or Rinaldoes' head (I trow)  
Should feel the sharpness of my curtle-axe bright;  
Ask me the head (fair mistress) of some foe,  
For to your beauty vowed is my might,  
So he began, and meant in speeches wise  
Further to wade, but thus he broke the ise:   

79  
Therewith he smiled, and smiling 'gan to frame  
His looks, so to their old and native grace,  
That towards him another virgin came,  
Herd him, beheld him, and with bashful face  
Said, for thy mistress choose no other dame  
But me, on me thy love and service place,  
I take thee for my champion, and apart  
Would reason with thee, if my knight thou art.   

80  
Withdrawn, she thus began, Vafrine (perdie)  
I know thee well, and me thou know'st of old,  
To his last trump this drove the subtle spy,  
But smiling towards her he turned him bold,  
Near that I wot I saw thee erst with eye,  
Yet for thy worth all eyes should thee behold,  
Thus much I know right well, for from the same  
Which erst you gave me different is my name.   

81  
My mother bore me near Bisertas wall,  
Her name was Lesbine, mine is Almansore:  
I knew long since (quoth she) what men thee call,  
And thine estate, dissemble it no more,  
From me thy friend hide not thyself at all,  
If I bewray thee let me die therefore,  
I am Erminia, daughter to a prince,  
But Tancred's slave, thy fellow servant since;   

82  
Two happy months within that prison kind,  
Under thy guard, rejoiced I to dwell,  
And thee a keeper meek and good did find,  
The same, the same I am; behold me well.  
The squire her lovely beauty called to mind,  
And marked her visage fair: from thee expel  
All fear (she says) for me live safe and sure,  
I will thy safety, not thy harm procure.   

83  
But yet I pray thee (when thou dost return)  
To my dear prison lead me home again;  
For in this hateful freedom eau'n and morn  
I sigh for sorrow, mourn and weep for pain:  
But if to spy perchance thou here sojourn,  
Great hap thou hast, to know their secrets plain,  
For I their treasons false, false trains, can say,  
Which few beside can tell, none will bewray.   

84  
On her he gazed, and silent stood this while,  
Armidas sleights he knew, and trains unjust,  
Women have tongues of craft, and hearts of guile,  
They will, they will not, fools that on them trust,  
For in their speech, is death; hell, in their smile;  
At last he said, if hence depart you lust,  
I will you guide, on this conclude we hear,  
And further speech, till fit time, forbear.   

85  
Forthwith (ere thence the camp remove) to ride  
They were resolved, their flight that season fits,  
Vafrine departs, she to the dames beside  
Returns, and there on thorns awhile she sits,  
Of her new knight she talks, till time and tide  
To scape unmarkt she find, than forth she gits,  
Thither where Vafrine her unseen abode,  
There took she horse, and from the camp they road.   

86  
And now in deserts waste and wild arrived,  
far from the camp, far from resort and sight,  
Vafrine began, 'gainst godfreys life contrived  
The false compacts and trains unfold aright:  
Then she those treasons (from their spring derived)  
Repeats, and brings their hid deceits to light,  
Eight knights she says, (all courtiers brave) there are,  
(But Ormond strong, the rest surpasseth far)   

87  
These (whether hate or hope of gain them move)  
Conspired have, and framed their treason so,  
That day when Emiren by fight shall prove  
To win lost Asia from his christian foe,  
These, with the cross scored on their arms above,  
And armed like Frenchmen, will disguised go,  
Like godfreys guard that gold and white do wear,  
Such shall their habit be, and such their gear:   

88  
Yet each will bear a token in his crest,  
That so their friends for Pagans may them know:  
But in close fight when all the soldiers best  
Shall mingled be, to give the fatal blow,  
They will creep near, and pierce Godfredoes breast,  
While of his faithful guard they bear false show,  
And all their swords are dipped in poison strong,  
Because each wound shall bring sad death ere long.   

89  
And for their chieftain witted I knew your guise,  
What garments, ensigns, and what arms you carry,  
Those feigned arms he forced me to devise,  
So that from yours but small or nought they vary:  
But these unjust commands my thoughts despize,  
Within their camp therefore I list not tarry,  
My heart abhors I should this hand defile  
With spot of treason, or with act of guile.   

90  
This is the cause, but not the cause alone:  
And there she ceased, and blushed, and on the main  
Cast down her eyes, these last words scant outgone,  
She would have stopped, nor durst pronounce them plain,  
The squire, what she concealed, would know, as one  
That from her breast her secret thoughts could strain,  
Of little faith (quoth he) why wouldst thou hide  
Those causes true, from me thy squire and guide?   

91  
With that she fetched a sigh, sad, sore, and deep,  
And from her lips her words slow, trembling came,  
Fruitless (she said) untimely, hard to keep,  
Vain modesty farewell, and farewell shame,  
Why hope you restless love to bring on sleep?  
Why strive your fires to quench sweet Cupid's flame?  
No, no, such cares, and such respects beseem  
Great Ladies, wandering maids them nought esteem.   

92  
That night, fatal to me and Antioch town,  
Then made a pray to her commanding foe,  
My loss was greater than was seen or known,  
There ended not, but thence began my woe:  
Light was the loss of friends, of realm or crown;  
But with my state, I lost myself also,  
Near to be found again, for than I lost  
My wit, my sense, my heart, my soul almost.   

93  
Through fire and sword, through blood and death (Vafrine)  
(Which all my friends did burn, did kill, did chase)  
Thou knowst I run to thy dear Lord and mine,  
When first he entered had my father's place,  
And kneeling with salt tears in my swollen eine;  
Great Prince (quoth I) grant mercy, pity, grace,  
Save not my kingdom, not my life I said,  
But save mine honour, let me die a maid.   

94  
He lift me by the trembling hand from ground,  
Nor staid he till my humble speech was done;  
But said, a friend and keeper hast thou found  
(fair virgin) nor to me in vain you run:  
A sweetness strange from that sweet voices sound  
Pierced my heart, my breasts weak fortress won,  
Which creeping through my bosom soft, became  
A wound, a sickness, and a quenchless flame.   

95  
He visits me, with speeches kind and grave  
He sought to ease my griefs, and sorrows smart:  
He said, I give thee liberty, recave  
All that is thine, and at thy will departed:  
Alas, he robbed me when he thought he gave,  
Free was Erminia: but captived her heart,  
Mine was the body, his the soul and mind,  
He gave the cage, but kept the bird behind.   

96  
But who can hide desire, or love suppress?  
Oft of his worth with thee in talk I strove,  
Thou (by my trembling fit that well couldst guess  
What fever held me) saidst, thou art in love;  
But I denayed, for what can maids do less?  
And yet my sighs thy sayings true did prove,  
In stead of speech, my looks, my tears, mine eyes,  
Told in what flame, what fire, thy mistress fries.   

97  
Unhappy silence, well I might have told  
My woes, and for my harms have sought relief,  
Since now my pains and plaints I utter bold,  
Where none that hears can help or ease my grief:  
From him I parted, and did close upfold  
My wounds within my bosom, death was chief  
Of all my hopes and helps, till loves sweet flame  
Plucked off the bridle of respect and shame,   

98  
And caused me ride to seek my Lord and knight,  
For he that made me sick could make me sound:  
But on an ambush I mischanst to light  
Of cruel men, in armour clothed round,  
Hardly I scaped their hands by mature flight,  
And fled to wilderness and desert ground,  
And there I lived in groves and forests wild,  
With gentle grooms and shepherds daughters mild.   

99  
But when hot love, which fear had late suppressed,  
reviv'd again, there nould I longer sit,  
But road the way I came, nor ere took rest,  
Till on like danger, like mishap I hit,  
A troop to forage and to spoil addressed,  
Encountered me, nor could I fly from it:  
Thus was I ta'en, and those that had me caught  
Egyptians were, and me to Gaza brought,   

100  
And for a present to their captain gave,  
Whom I entreated and besought so well,  
That he mine honour had great care to save,  
And since with fair Armida let me dwell.  
Thus taken oft, escaped oft I have,  
Ah, see what haps I passed, what dangers fell,  
So often captive, free so oft again,  
Still my first bands I keep, still my first chain.   

101  
And he that did this chain so surely bind  
About my heart, which none can lose but he,  
Let him not say, go (wandering damsel) find  
Some other home, thou shalt not bide with me,  
But let him welcome me with speeches kind,  
And in my wont prison set me free:  
Thus spoke the Princess, thus she and her guide  
Talked day and night, and on their journey ride,   

102  
Through the high ways Vafrino would not pass,  
A path more secret, safe and short, he knew,  
And now close by the city's wall he was,  
When sun was set, night in the East upflew,  
With drops of blood besmeerd he found the grass,  
And saw where lay a warrior murdered new,  
That all bebled the ground, his face to skies  
He turns, and seems to threat, though dead he lies:   

103  
His harness and his habit both bewrayed  
He was a Pagan, forward went the squire,  
And saw whereas another champion laid  
Dead on the land, all soiled with blood and mire,  
This was some Christian knight Vafrino said;  
And marking well his arms and rich attire,  
He loosed his helm, and saw his visage plain,  
And cried, alas, here lies Tancredie slain!   

104  
The woeful virgin tarried, and gave heed  
To the fierce looks of that proud Saracine,  
Till that high cry (full of sad fear and dread)  
Pierced through her heart with sorrow, grief and pine,  
At Tancred's name thither she ran with speed,  
Like one half mad, or drunk with too much wine,  
And when she saw his face, pale, bloodless, dead,  
She lighted, nay, she tumbled from her stead:   

105  
Her springs of tears she looseth forth, and cries  
Hither why bringst thou me, ah fortune blind?  
Where dead (for whom I lived) my comfort lies,  
Where war, for peace; travel for rest I find;  
Tancred, I have thee, see thee, yet thine eyes  
Looked not upon thy love and handmaid kind,  
Undo their doors, their lids fast closed sever,  
Alas, I find thee for to lose thee ever.   

106  
I never thought that to mine eyes (my dear)  
Thou couldst have grievous or unpleasant been;  
But now would blind or rather dead I wear,  
That thy sad plight might be unknown, unseen,  
Alas, where is thy mirth and smiling cheer?  
Where are thine eyes clear beams and sparkles sheen?  
Of thy fair cheek where is the purple read,  
And foreheads whiteness? are all gone, all dead?   

107  
Though gone, though dead, I love thee still behold;  
Death wounds, but kills not love; yet if thou live  
Sweet soul, still in his breast, my follies bold  
Ah, pardon, loves, desires and stealths forgive;  
Grant me from his pale mouth some kisses cold,  
Since death doth love of just reward deprive;  
And of thy spoils sad death afford me this,  
Let me his mouth pale, cold and bloodless kiss;   

108  
O gentle mouth! with speeches kind and sweet,  
Thou didst relieve my grief, my woe and pain,  
Ere my weak soul from this frail body fleet,  
Ah, comfort me with one dear kiss or twain,  
Perchance if we alive had happed to meet,  
They had been given which now are stolen, O vain,  
O feeble life, betwixt his lips out fly,  
O let me kiss thee first, then let me die!   

109  
Receive my yielded spirit, and with thine  
Guide it to heaven, where all true love hath place:  
This said, she sighed, and tore her tresses fine,  
And from her eyes two streams powered on his face,  
The man revived with those showers divine,  
Awaked, and opened his lips a space:  
His lips were open; but fast shut his eyes,  
And with her sighs, one sigh from him upflies.   

110  
The dame perceived that Tancred breathed and sight,  
Which calmed her grieves somedeal and eased her fears:  
Unclose thine eyes (she says) my Lord and knight,  
See my last services, my plaints and tears,  
See her that dies to see thy woeful plight,  
That of thy pain her part and portion bears,  
Once look on me, small is the gift I crave,  
The last which thou canst give, or I can have.   

111  
Tancred looked up, and closed his eyes again,  
Heavy and dim, and she renewed her woe:  
Quoth Vafrine, cure him first, and then complain,  
Medicine is life's chief friend; plaint her most foe,  
They plucked his armour off, and she each vain,  
Each joint, and sinew felt, and handled so,  
And searched so well, each thrust, each cut and wound,  
That hope of life her love and skill soon found.   

112  
From weariness and loss of blood she spied  
His greatest pains and anguish most proceed,  
Nought but her vail amid those deserts wide  
She had to bind his wounds, in so great need,  
But love could other bands (though strange) provide,  
And pity wept for joy to see that deed,  
For with her amber locks cut off each wound  
She tied: O happy man, so cured, so bound!   

113  
For why her vail was short and thin, those deep  
And cruel hurts to fasten, roll, and bind,  
Nor salve, nor simple had she, yet to keep  
Her knight on live, strong charms of wondrous kind  
She said, and from him drove that deadly sleep,  
That now his eyes he lifted, turned and twined,  
And saw his squire, and saw that courteous dame  
In habit strange, and wondered whence she came.   

114  
He said, O Vafrine, tell me, whence comest thou?  
And who this gentle surgeon is, disclose;  
She smiled, she sighed, she looked she witted not how,  
She wept, reioist, she blushed as red as rose,  
You shall know all (she says) your surgeon now  
Commands you silence, rest, and soft repose,  
You shall be sound, prepare my guerdon meet,  
His head then laid she in her bosom sweet.   

115  
Vafrine devised this while how he might bear  
His master home, ere night obscured the land,  
When lo a troop of soldiers did appear,  
Whom he descried to be Tancredies band,  
With him when he and Argant met they wear;  
But when they went to combat hand for hand,  
He bod them stay behind, and they obeyed,  
But came to seek him now, so long he stayed.   

116  
Besides them, many followed that inquest,  
But these alone found out the rightest way,  
Upon their friendly arms the men addressed  
A seat, whereon he sat, he leaned, he lay:  
(Quoth Tancred) shall the strong Circassian rest  
In this broad field, for wolves and crows a pray?  
Ah no, defraud not you that champion brave  
Of his just praise, of his due tomb and grave,   

117  
With his dead bones no longer war have I,  
Boldly he died, and nobly was he slain,  
Then let us not that honour him deny,  
Which after death alonely doth remain:  
The Pagan dead they lifted up on high,  
And after Tancred bore him through the plain.  
Close by the virgin chaste did Vafrine ride,  
As he that was her squire, her guard, her guide.   

118  
Not home (quoth Tancred) to my wont tent,  
But bear me to this royal town, I pray,  
That if cut short by humane accident  
I die, there I may see my latest day,  
The place where Christ upon his cross was rend,  
To heaven perchance may easier make the way,  
And ere I yield to deaths and fortunes rage,  
Performed shall be my vow and pilgrimage,   

119  
Thus to the city was Tancredie borne,  
And fell on sleep, laid on a bed of down.  
Vafrino where the damsel might sojourn,  
A chamber got, close, secret, near his own:  
That done he came the mighty Duke before,  
And entrance found, for till his news were known  
Nought was concluded 'mongst those knights & Lords,  
Their counsel hung on his report and words.   

120  
Where weak and weary wounded Raimond laid,  
Godfrey was set upon his couches side,  
And round about the man a ring was maid  
Of lords and knights, that filled the chamber wide;  
There while the squire his late discou'rie said,  
To break his talk none answered, none replied,  
My lord (he said) at your command I went  
And viewed their camp, each cabin, booth and tent;   

121  
But of that mighty host the number true  
Expect not that I can, or should descry,  
All covered with their armies might you view  
The fields, the plains, the dales and mountains hie,  
I saw what way so ere they went and drew,  
They spoiled the land, drunk floods and fountains dry,  
For not whole Jordan could have given them drink,  
Nor all the grain in Syria, bread, I think.   

122  
But yet amongst them many bands are found  
Both horse and foot, of little force and might,  
That keep no order, know no trumpets sound,  
That draw no sword, but far off shoot and fight,  
But yet the Persian army doth abound  
With many a footman strong, and hardy knight,  
So doth the kings own troop which all is framed  
Of soldiers old, th'immortal squadron named.   

123  
Immortal called is that band of right,  
For of that number never wanteth one,  
But in his empty place some other knight  
Steps in, when any man is dead or gone:  
This army's leader Emireno hight,  
Like whom in wit and strength are few or none,  
Who hath in charge in plain and pitched field,  
To fight with you, to make you fly or yield.   

124  
And well I know their army and their host,  
Within a day or two, will here arrive:  
But thee, Rinaldo, it behoveth most  
To keep thy noble head, for which they strive,  
For all the chief in arms or courage, boast  
They will the same to Queen Armida give,  
And for the same she gives herself in price,  
Such hire will many hands to work entice.   

125  
The chief of these (that have thy murder sworn)  
Is Altamore, the king of Sarmachand;  
Adrastus then, whose realm lies near the morn,  
A hardy giant, bold, and strong of hand,  
This king upon an elephant is borne,  
For under him no horse can stir or stand;  
The third is Tisipherne, as brave a lord  
As ever put on helm, or girt on sword.   

126  
This said, from young Rinaldoes' angry eyes  
Flew sparks of wrath, flames in his visage shined,  
He longed to be amid those enemies,  
Nor rest nor reason in his heart could find.  
But to the Duke Vafrine his talk applies,  
The greatest news (my Lord) are yet behind,  
For all their thoughts, their crafts and counsels tend  
By treason false to bring thy life to end:   

127  
Then all from point to point he 'gan expose  
The false compact, how it was made and wrought,  
The arms and ensigns feigned, poison close,  
Ormondos vaunt, what praise, what thank he sought,  
And what reward, and satisfied all those  
That would demand, inquire, or ask of aught,  
Silence was made a while, when Godfrey thus,  
Raimondo say, what counsel giv'st thou us?   

128  
Not as we purposed late, next morn (quoth he)  
Let us not scale, but round besiege this tower,  
That those within may have no issue free  
To sally out, and hurt us with their power,  
Our camp well rested and refreshed see,  
Provided well 'gainst this last storm and shower,  
And then in pitched field, fight, if you will;  
If not, delay, and keep this fortress still:   

129  
But lest you be endangred, hurt or slain,  
Of all your cares take care yourself to save,  
By you this camp doth live, doth win, doth rain,  
Who else can rule or guide these squadrons brave?  
And for the traitors shall be noted plain,  
Command your guard to change the arms they have,  
So shall their guile be known, in their own net  
So shall they fall, caught in the snare they set.   

130  
As it hath ever (thus the Duke begun)  
Thy counsel shows thy wisdom and thy love,  
And what you left in doubt, shall thus be done,  
We will their force in pitched battle prove;  
Closed in this wall and trench, the fight to shun,  
Doth ill this camp beseem, and worse behove,  
But we their strength and manhood will assay,  
And try, in open field and open day.   

131  
The fame of our great conquests to sustain,  
Or bide our looks and threats, they are not able,  
And when this army is subdued and slain,  
Then is our empire settled, firm and stable,  
The tower shall yield, or but resist in vain,  
For fear her anchor is, despair her cable,  
Thus he concludes, and rolling down the west  
Fast set the stars, and called them all to rest.    

The twentieth book of Godfrey of Boulogne.  
The argument.  

The Pagan host arrives, and cruel fight  
Makes with the Christians, and their faithful power;  
The sultan longs in field to prove his might,  
With the old king quits the besieged tower;  
Yet both are slain, and in eternal night  
A famous hand gives each his fatal hour;  
Rinaldo appeased Armida; first the field  
The Christians win; then praise to God they yield.   

1  
THe sun called up the world from idle sleep,  
And of the day ten hours were gone and passed,  
When the bold troop that had the tower to keep,  
Espied a sudden mist, that overcast  
The earth, with mirksome clouds and darkness deep,  
And saw it was th'Egyptian camp at last,  
Which raised the dust, for hills and valleys broad  
That host did overspread and overload:   

2  
Therewith a merry shout and joyful cry  
The Pagans reared, from their besieged hold;  
The crane's from Thrace with such a rumour fly,  
His hoary frost and snow when Hiems old  
Powers down, and fast to warmer regions hie,  
From the sharp winds, fierce storms and tempests cold▪  
And quick and ready this new hope and aid,  
Their hands, to shoot; their tongues to threaten maid.   

3  
From whence their ire, their wrath and hardy threat  
Proceeds, the French well knew, and plain espied,  
For from the walls and ports the army great  
They saw, her strength, her number, pomp and pride,  
Swollen their breasts with valours noble heat,  
Battle and fight they wished, arm, arm, they cried,  
The youth to give the sign of fight all prayed  
Their Duke, and were displeased, because delayed,   

4  
Till morning next for he refused to fight,  
Their haste and heat he bridled, but not brake,  
Nor yet with sudden fray or skirmish light,  
Of these new foes would he vain trial make,  
After so many wars (he says) good right  
It is, that one days rest at least you take,  
For thus in his vain foes he cherish would  
The hope, which in their strength they have and hold.   

5  
To see Aurora's gentle beam appear,  
The soldiers armed, priest and ready lay,  
The skies were never half so fair and clear,  
As in the breaking of that blessed day,  
The merry morning smiled, and seemed to wear  
Upon her silver crown, suns golden ray,  
And without cloud, heaven his redoubled light  
Bend down, to see this field, this fray, this fight.   

6  
When first he saw the day break, show and shine,  
Godfrey his host in good array brought out,  
And to besiege the tyrant Aladine  
Raimond he left, and all the faithful rout,  
That from the towns was come of Palestine,  
To serve and secure their deliverer stout,  
And with them left a hardy troop beside  
Of Gascoignes strong; in arms well proved, oft tried.   

7  
Such was Godfredoes countenance, such his cheer,  
That from his eye sure conquest flames and streams,  
Heavens gracious favours in his looks appear,  
And great and goodly more than erst he seams,  
His face and forehead full of noblesse wear,  
And on his cheek smiled youths purple beams,  
And in his gate, his grace, his acts, his eyes  
Somewhat (far more than mortal) lives and lies.   

8  
He had not marched far, ere he espied  
Of his proud foes the mighty host draw nigh,  
A hill at first he took, and fortified  
At his left hand which stood his army buy,  
Broad in the front, behind more strait up tied,  
His army ready stood the fight to try,  
And to the middle ward well armed he brings  
His footmen strong, his horsemen served for wings;   

9  
To the left wing, spread underneath the bent  
Of the steep hill, that saved their flank and side,  
The Roberts twain, two leaders good, he sent;  
His brother had the middle ward to guide;  
To the right wing himself in person went,  
Down, where the plain was dangrous, broad and wide,  
And where his foes with their great numbers, would  
Perchance environ round his squadrons bold.   

10  
There all his Lorreners and men of might,  
All his best armed he placed, and chosen bands,  
And with those horse some footmen armed light,  
That archers were, (used to that service) stands,  
Th'adventurers then, in battle and in fight  
Well tried, a squadron famous through all lands,  
On the right hand he set, somedeal aside,  
Rinaldo was their leader, lord, and guide.   

11  
To whom the Duke, in thee our hope is laid  
Of victory, thou must the conquest gain,  
Behind this mighty wing, so far displayed,  
Thou with thy noble squadron close remain;  
And when the Pagans would our backs invaide,  
Assail them then, and make their onset vain;  
For if I guess aright, they have in mind  
To compass us, and charge our troops behind.   

12  
Then through his host, that took so large a scope,  
He road, and viewed them all, both horse and fout,  
His face was bare, his helm unclosed and open,  
Lightened his eyes, his looks bright fire shot out,  
He cheers the fearful, comforts them that hope,  
And to the bold recounts his boasting stout,  
And to the valiant his adventures hard,  
These bids he look for praise, those for reward.   

13  
At last he stayed, whereof his squadrons bold,  
And noblest troops, assembled was best part,  
There from a rising bank his will he told,  
And all that heard his speech thereat took heart:  
And as the molten snow from mountains cold  
Runs down in streams, with eloquence and art,  
So from his lips his words and speeches fell,  
Shrill, speedy, pleasant, sweet, and placed well.   

14  
My hardy host, you conqueror's of the East,  
You scourge, wherewith Christ whips his heathen fone,  
Of victory, behold the latest feast,  
See the last day, for which you wished alone;  
Not without cause the Sarzens most and least,  
Our gracious Lord hath gathered here in one,  
For all your foes and his, assembled are,  
That one days fight may end seaune years of war.   

15  
This fight shall bring us many victories,  
The danger none, the labour will be small,  
Let not the number of your enemies  
Dismay your hearts, grant fear no place at all;  
For strife and discord through their army flies,  
Their bands ill ranked themselves entangle shall,  
And few of them to strike or fight shall come,  
For some want strength, some heart, some elbow room.   

16  
This host, with whom you must encounter now,  
Are men half naked, without strength or skill,  
From idleness, or following the plough,  
Late pressed forth to war, against their will,  
Their sword are blunt, shields thin, soon pierced throw,  
Their banners shake, their bearers shrink, for ill  
Their leaders heard, obeyed, or followed be,  
Their loss, their flight, their death I well foresee:   

17  
Their captain, clad in purple, armed in gold,  
That seems so fierce, so hardy, stout and strong,  
The moors or weak Arabians vanquish could,  
Yet can he not resist your valours long,  
What can he do, (though wise, though sage, though bold)  
In that confusion, trouble, thrust and throng?  
Ill known he is, and worse he knows his host,  
Strange lords ill feared are, ill obeyed of most.   

18  
But I am captain of this chosen crew,  
With whom I oft have conquered, triumphed oft,  
Your lands and lineages long since I knew,  
Each knight obeys my rule, mild, easy, soft,  
I know each sword, each dart, each shaft I view,  
Although the quarrel fly in skies aloft,  
Whether the same of Ireland be or France,  
And from what bow it comes, what hand perchance.   

19  
I ask an easy, and an usual thing,  
As you have oft, this day, so win the field,  
Let zeal and honour be your virtues sting,  
Your lives, my fame, Christ's faith, defend and shield,  
To earth these Pagans slain and wounded bring,  
Tread on their necks, make them all die or yield,  
What need I more exhort you? from your eyes  
I see how victory, how conquest flies.   

20  
Upon the captain (when his speech was done)  
It seemed a lamp and golden light down came,  
As from nights azure mantle oft doth run  
Or fall, a sliding star, or shining flame;  
But from the bosom of the burning son  
Proceeded this, and garland wise the same  
Godfredoes noble head encompassed round,  
And (as some thought) foreshewd he should be crowned:   

21  
Perchance (if man's proud thought, or saucy tongue,  
Have leave to judge, or guess at heavenly things)  
This was the angel which had kept him long,  
That now came down, and hide him with his wings.  
While thus the Duke bespeaks his armies strong,  
And every troop and band in order brings,  
Lord Emiren his host disposed well,  
And with bold words whet on their courage fell:   

22  
The man brought forth his army great with speed,  
In order good, his foes at hand he spied,  
Like the new moon his host two horns did spreed,  
In midst the foot, the horse were on each side,  
The right wing kept he for himself to lead,  
Great Altamore received the left to guide,  
The middle ward led Muleasses prood,  
And in that battle fair, Armida stood.   

23  
On the right quarter stood the Indian grim,  
With Tisipherne and all the kings own band;  
But where the left wing spread her squadrons trim  
o'er the large plain, did Altamoro stand,  
With Aphrican and Persian kings with him,  
And two that came from Meroes' hot sand,  
And all his crossbows and his slings he placed,  
Where room best served to shoot, to throw, to cast.   

24  
Thus Emiren his host put in array,  
And road from band to band, from rank to rank,  
His Truchmen now, and now himself doth say,  
What spoil his folk shall gain, what praise, what thank,  
To him that feared, look up, ours is the day  
He says, vile fear to bold hearts never sank,  
How dareth one against an hundredth fight?  
Our cry, our shade, will put them all to flight.   

25  
But to the bold, go hardy knight (he says,)  
His pray out of this lions paws go tear,  
To some before his thoughts the shape he lays,  
And makes therein the image true appear,  
How his sad country him entreats and prays,  
His house, his loving wife, and children dear,  
Suppose (quoth he) thy country doth beseech  
And pray thee thus, suppose this is her speech:   

26  
Defend my laws, uphold my temples brave,  
My blood, from washing of my streets, withhold,  
From ravishing my virgins keep, and save  
Thine ancestors dead bones and ashes cold,  
To thee thy father's dear, and parents grave  
Show their uncoured heads, white, hoary, old,  
To thee thy wife her breasts with tears o'erspread  
Thy sons, their cradles, shows, thy marriage bed.   

27  
To all the rest, you for her honour's sake,  
Whom Asia makes her champions, by your might  
Upon these thieves, weak, feeble, few, must take  
A sharp revenge, yet just, deserved and right,  
Thus many words in several tongues he spoke,  
And all his sundry nations to sharp fight  
Encouraged, but now the Dukes had done  
Their speeches all, the hosts together run.   

28  
It was a great, a strange, and wondrous fight,  
When front to front those noble armies met,  
How every troop, how in each troop each knight  
Stood priest to move, to fight, and praise to get,  
Lose in the wind waved their ensigns light,  
Trembled the plumes that on their crests were set;  
Their arms imprese, colours, gold and stone  
'Gainst the sun beams, smiled, flamed, sparkled, shone,   

29  
Of dry topped oaks, they seemed two forests thick:  
So did each host with spears and pikes abound,  
Bent were their bows, in rests their lances stick,  
Their hands shook swords, their slings held cobles round:  
Each stead to run was ready, priest and quick  
At his commanders spur, his hand, his sound;  
He chafes, he stamps, careers, and turns about,  
He foams, snorts, neys, and fire and smoke breathes out.   

30  
Horror itself in that fair sight seemed fair,  
And pleasure flew amid sad dread and fear:  
The trumpets shrill, that thundered in the air,  
Were music mild and sweet to every ear:  
The faithful camp (though less) yet seemed more raire  
In that strange noise, more warlike, shrill and clear,  
In notes more sweet, the Pagan trumpets jar,  
These sung, their armours shined, these glistered far.   

31  
The Christian trumpets give the deadly call,  
The Pagans answer, and the fight accept;  
The godly Frenchmen on their knees down fall  
To pray, and kissed the earth, and then uplept  
To fight, the land between was vanished all,  
In combat close each host to other stepped;  
For now the wings had skirmish hot begun,  
And with their battles forth the footmen run.   

32  
But who was first of all the Christian train,  
That gave the onset first, first won renown?  
Gildippes' thou wert she, for (by thee slain)  
The king of Orms, Hircano, tumbled down,  
The man's breast bone thou clou'st and rend in twain,  
So heaven with honour would thee bless and crown:  
Pierced through he fell, and falling hard withal,  
His foe praised for her strength, and for his fall.   

33  
Her lannce thus broke, the hardy dame forth drew  
(With her strong hand) a fine and trenchant blade,  
And 'gainst the Persians fierce and bold she flew,  
And in their troop wide streets and lanes she made,  
Even in the girdling stead divided new  
In pieces twain, Zopire on earth she lad▪  
And then Alarcos head she swapped off clean,  
Which like a football tumbled on the green.   

34  
A blow field Artaxerxes, with a thrust  
Was Argeus slain, the first lay in a trance,  
Ismaels' left hand cut off fell in the dust;  
For on his wrest her sword fell down by chance:  
The hand let go the bridle where it lust,  
The blow upon the coursers eats did glance,  
Who felt the rains at large, and with the stroke  
Half mad, the ranks disordered, troubled, broke:   

35  
All these, and many more, by time forgot,  
She slew and wounded, when against her came  
The angry Persians all, cast on a knot,  
For on her person would they purchase fame:  
But her dear spouse and husband wanted not  
(In so great need) to aid the noble dame;  
Thus joined, the haps of war unhurt they prove,  
Their strength was double, double was their love.   

36  
The noble lovets use well might you see,  
A wondrous guise, till then unseen, unhard,  
To save themselves forgot both he and she,  
Each others life did keep, defend and guard;  
The strokes that 'gainst her Lord discharged be,  
The dame had care to bear, to break, to ward,  
His shield kept off the blows bend on his dear,  
Which (if need be) his naked head should bear.   

37  
So each saved other, each for others wrong  
Would vengeance take, but not revenge their own:  
The valiant sultan Artabano strong  
Of Boecan isle, by her was overthrown,  
And by his hand (the bodies dead among)  
Aluante (that durst his mistress wound) fell down,  
And she between the eyes hit Arimonte,  
(Who hurt her Lord) and cleft in twain his front.   

38  
But Altamore who had that wing to lead  
far greater slaughter on the Christians made;  
For where he turned his sword, or twined his stead,  
He slew, or man and beast on earth down lad,  
Happy was he that was at first struck dead,  
That fell not down on live, for whom his blade  
Had spared, the same cast in the dusty street  
His horse tore with his teeth, bruised with his feet.   

39  
By this brave Persians valour killed and slain  
Were strong Brunello, and Ardonio great;  
The first his head and helm had cleft in twain,  
The last in stranger wise he did entreat,  
For through his heart he pierced, and through the vain  
Where laughter hath his fountain and his seat,  
So that (a dreadful thing, believed uneath)  
He laughed for pain, and laughed himself to death.   

40  
Nor these alone with that accursed knife  
Of this sweet light and breath deprived lie;  
But with that cruel weapon lost their life  
Gentonio, Guascar, Rosimond and Guy;  
Who knows how many in that fatal strife  
He slew? What knights his courser fierce made die?  
The names and countries of the people slain  
Who tells? their wounds and deaths who can explain?   

41  
With this fierce king encounter durst not one,  
Not one durst combat him in equal field,  
Gildippes' undertook that task alone;  
No doubt could make her shrink, no danger, yield,  
By Thermodonte was never Amazon,  
(That managed steeled axe, or carried shield)  
That seemed so bold as she, so strong, so light,  
When forth she run to meet that dreadful knight:   

42  
She hit him, where with gold and rich anmaile,  
His diadem did on his helmet flame,  
She broke and cleft the crown, and caused him vail  
His proud and lofty top, his crest down came,  
Strong seemed her arm that could so well assail:  
The Pagan shook for spite, and blushed for shame,  
Forward he rushed, and would at once requite  
Shame, with disgrace; and with revenge, despite.   

43  
Right on the front he gave that Lady kind  
A blow, so huge, so strong, so great, so sore,  
That out of sense and feeling, down she twined:  
But her dear knight his love from ground upbore,  
Were it their fortune, or his noble mind,  
He stayed his hand, and stroke the dame no more:  
A Lion so stalks by, and with proud eyes  
Beholds, but scorns to hurt, a man that lies.   

44  
This while Ormondo false, whose cruel hand  
Was armed, and priest to give the traitorous blow,  
With all his fellows 'mongst Godfredoes band  
Entered unseen, disguised that few them know:  
The thievish wolves (when night o'ershades the land)  
That seem like faithful dogs in shape and show,  
So to the closed folds in secret creep,  
And entrance seek, to kill some harmless sheep.   

45  
He proched nigh, and to Godfredoes side  
The bloody Pagan now was placed near;  
But when his colours gold and white he spied,  
And saw the other signs that forged wear,  
See see, this traitor false (the captain cried)  
That like a Frenchman would in show appear,  
Behold how near his mates and he are crept.  
This said, upon the villain forth he leapt,   

46  
Deadly he wounded him, and that false knight  
Nor strikes, nor wards, nor striveth to be gone;  
But (as Medusa's head ware in his sight)  
Stood like a man new turned to marble stone,  
All lances broke, unsheathed all weapons bright,  
All quivers emptied were, on them alone,  
In parts so many were the traitors cleft,  
That those dead men, had no dead bodies left.   

47  
When Godfrey was with Pagan blood bespread  
He entered then the fight, and that was past,  
Where the bold Persian fought and combated,  
Where the close ranks he opened, cloven and braced;  
Before the knight the troops and squadrons fled,  
As Africa dust before the southrens blast,  
The Duke recalled them, in array them placed,  
Stayed those that fled, and him assailed that chased.   

48  
The champions strong there fought a battle stout,  
Troy never saw the like by Xanthus' old:  
A conflict sharp there was meanwhile on fout  
Twixt Baldwine good and Muleasses bold:  
The horsemen also (near the mountains rout,  
And in both wings) a furious skirmish hold,  
And where the barbarous Duke in person stood,  
Twixt Tisiphernes and Adrastus prood;   

49  
With Emiren Robert the Norman strove,  
Long time they fought, yet neither lost nor won;  
The other Robert's helm the Indian clove,  
And broke his arms, their fight would soon be done:  
From place to place did Tisiphernes rove,  
And found no match, against him none durst run,  
But where the press was thickest thither flew  
The knight, and at each stroke field, hurt or slew.   

50  
Thus fought they long, yet neither shrink nor yield,  
In equal balance hung their hope and fear:  
All full of broken lances lay the field,  
All full of arms that clou'n and shattered wear,  
Of swords, some to the body nail the shield,  
Some cut men's throats, and some their bellies tear,  
Of bodies, some upright, some groveling lay,  
And for themselves eat graves out of the clay:   

51  
Beside his lord slain lay the noble stead,  
There friend with friend lay killed, like lovers true,  
There foe with foe, the live under the dead,  
The victor under him whom late he slew:  
A hoarse unperfect sound did each where spread,  
Whence neither silence, nor plain outcries flew,  
There fury roars, ire threats, and woe complains,  
One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains.   

52  
The arms that late so fair and glorious seam,  
Now soiled and slubbered, sad and sullen grow,  
The steel his brightness lost; the gold his beam;  
The colours had no pride, nor beauties show;  
The plumes and feathers on their crests that stream,  
Are strewed wide upon the earth below:  
The hosts both clad in blood, in dust and mire,  
Had changed their cheer, their pride, their rich attire.   

53  
But now the moors, Arabians, Ethiopes black,  
(Of the left wing that held the utmost marge)  
Spread forth their troops and purposed at the back  
And side, their heedless foes t'assail and charge:  
Slingers and Archers were not slow, nor slack  
To shoot and cast, when with his battle large  
Rinaldo came, whose fury, haste, and ire,  
Seemed earthquake, thunder, tempest, storm and fire.   

54  
The first he met was Asmire his throne  
That set in Meroës' hot, sunne-burnt, land,  
He cut his neck in twain, flesh, skin and bone,  
The sable head down tumbled on the sand;  
But when by death of this black Prince alone,  
The taste of blood and conquest once he found,  
Whole squadrons then, whole troops to earth he brought,  
Things wondrous, strange, incredible, he wrought;   

55  
He gave more deaths than strokes, and yet his blows  
Upon his feeble foes fell oft and thick,  
To move three tongues as a fierce serpent shows,  
Which rolls the one she hath swift, speedy, quick;  
So thinks each Pagan, each Arabian trowes,  
He wields three swords, all in one hilt that stick,  
His readiness their eyes so blinded hath,  
Their dread that wonder bred, fear gave it faith,   

56  
The Afric tyrants and the Negro kings  
Fell down on heaps, drowned each in others blood,  
Upon their people ran the knights he brings,  
Pricked forward by their guide's ensample good,  
Killed were the Pagans, broke their bows and slings:  
Some died, some fell; some yielded, none withstood:  
A massacre was this, no fight; these put  
Their foes to death; those hold their throats to cut.   

57  
Small while they stood, with heart and hardy face  
On their bold breasts deep wounds and hurts to bear,  
But fled away, and troubled in the chase  
Their ranks disordered be with too much fear:  
Rinaldo followed them from place to place,  
Till quite discomfit and dispersed they wear,  
That done he stays, and all his knights recalls,  
And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls.   

58  
Like as the wind stopped by some wood or hill,  
Grows strong and fierce, tears boughs and trees in twain,  
But with mild blasts, more temprate, gentle, still,  
Blows through the ample field, or spacious plain;  
Against the rocks as sea-waves murmur shrill,  
But silent pass amid the open main:  
Rinaldo so, when none his force withstood,  
Assuaged his fury, calmed his angry mood,   

59  
He scorned upon their fearful backs that fled  
To wreak his ire, and spend his force in vain,  
But 'gainst the footmen strong his troops he led,  
Whose side the moors had open left and plain,  
The Africans, that should have succoured  
That battle, all were run away or slain,  
Upon their flank with force and courage stout,  
His men at arms assailed the bands on fout:   

60  
He broke their pikes, and broke their close array,  
Entered their battle, field them down around,  
So wind or tempest with impetious sway  
The ears of ripened corn strikes flat to ground:  
With blood, arms, bodies dead, the hardened clay  
Plastred the earth, no grass nor green was found,  
The horsemen running through & through their bands,  
Kill, murder, slay, few escape, not one withstands.   

61  
Rinaldo came where his forlorn Armide  
Sat on her golden chariot mounted high,  
A noble guard she had on every side  
Of lords, of lovers, and much chivalry:  
She knew the man when first his arms she spied,  
Love, hate, wrath, sweet desire, strove in her eye,  
He changed some deal, his look & countenance bold,  
She changed from frost, to fire; from heat, to cold:   

62  
The prince passed by the chariot of his dear,  
Like one that did his thoughts elsewhere bestow,  
Yet suffered not her knights and lovers near  
Their rival so to scape withouten blow,  
One drew his sword, another couched his spear,  
Herself an arrow sharp set in her bow,  
Disdain her ire new sharped and kindled hath,  
But love appeased her, love assuaged her wrath.   

63  
Love bridled fury, and reviv'd of new  
His fire, not dead, though buried in displeasure,  
Three times her angry hand the bow up drew,  
And thrice again let slack the string at leisure;  
But wrath prevailed at last, the reed out flew,  
For love finds mean, but hatred knows no measure,  
Out flew the shaft, but with the shaft, this charm,  
This wish she sent: heavens grant it do no harm:   

64  
She bids the reed return the way it went,  
And pierce her heart which so unkind could prove,  
Such force had love, though lost and vainly spent,  
What strength hath happy, kind and mutual love?  
But she that gentle thought did strait repent,  
Wrath, fury, kindness, in her bosom strove,  
She would, she would not, that it mist or hit,  
Her eyes, her heart, her wishes followed it.   

65  
But yet in vain the quarrel lighted not,  
For on his hawberke hard the knight it hit,  
Too hard for woman's shaft or woman's shot,  
In stead of piercing there it broke and split;  
He turned away, she burned with fury hot,  
And thought he scorned her power, and in that fit  
Shot oft and oft, her shafts no entrance found,  
And while she shot, love gave her wound on wound.   

66  
And is he then unpearceable (quoth she)  
That neither force nor foe he needs regard?  
His limbs (perchance) armed with that hardness be,  
Which makes his heart so cruel and so hard,  
No shot that flies from eye or hand I see,  
Hurts him, such rigour doth his person guard,  
Armed, or disarmed; his foe, or mistress kind,  
Despised alike, like hate, like scorn I find.   

67  
But what new form is left, devise, or art,  
By which, to which exchanged, I might find grace?  
For in my knights and all that take my part  
I see no help, no hope, no trust I place,  
To his great prowess, might, and valiant heart,  
All strength is weak, all courage vile and base.  
This said she, for she saw, how, through the field,  
Her champions fly, faint, tremble, fall and yield.   

68  
Nor left alone can she her person save,  
But to be slain or taken stands in fear,  
Though with her bow a javelin long she have,  
Yet weak was Phebe's bow, blunt Pallas spear.  
But, as the swan, that sees the Eagle brave,  
Threatening her flesh and silver plumes to tear,  
Falls down, to hide her 'mongst the shady brooks;  
Such were her fearful motions, such her looks.   

69  
But Altamore, this while that strove and sought  
From shameful flight his Persian host to stay,  
That was discomfit and destroyed to nought,  
Whilst he alone maintained the fight and fray,  
Seeing distressed the goddess of his thought,  
To aid her ran, nay flew, and laid away  
All care, both of his honour and his host,  
If she were safe, let all the world be lost.   

70  
To the ilguarded chariot swift he flew,  
His weapon made him way with bloody war:  
Meanwhile Lord Godfrey and Rinaldo slew  
His feeble bands, his people murdered are,  
He saw their loss, but aided not his crew,  
A better lover than a leader far,  
He set Armida safe, then turned again  
With tardy succour, for his folk were slain.   

71  
And on that side the woeful Prince beheld  
The battle lost, no help nor hope remained;  
But on the other wing the Christians yield,  
And fly, such vantage there th'Egyptians gained,  
One of the Roberts was nigh slain in field;  
The other by the Indian strong constrained  
To yield himself, his captive and his slave;  
Thus equal loss and equal foil they have.   

72  
Godfredo took the time and season, fit  
To bring again his squadrons in array,  
And either camp well ordered, ranged and knit,  
Renewed the furious battle, fight and fray,  
New streams of blood were shed, new swords them hit;  
New combats fought, new spoils were borne away,  
And unresolved and doubtful (on each side)  
Did praise and conquest, Mars and Fortune ride.   

73  
Between the armies twain while thus the fight  
Waxed sharp, hot, cruel, though renewed but late,  
The sultan climbed up to the towers hight,  
And saw far off their strife and fell debate,  
As from some stage or theatre the knight  
Saw played the tragedy of humane state,  
Saw death, blood, murder, woe and horror strange,  
And the great acts of fortune, chance and change:   

74  
At first astonished and amazed he stood,  
Then burnt with wrath, and self consuming ire,  
Swollen his bosom like a raging flood,  
To be amid that battle, such desire.  
Such haste he had, he donned his helmet good,  
His other arms he had before entire,  
Up, up, he cried, no more, no more, within  
This fortress stay, come follow, die or win.   

75  
Whether the same were providence divine,  
That made him leave the fortress he possessed,  
For that the empire proud of Palestine  
This day should fall, to rise again more blest;  
Or that he breaking felt the fatal line  
Of life, and would meet death with constant breast,  
Furious and fierce he did the gates unbarre,  
And sudden rage brought forth, and sudden war;   

76  
Nor staid he till the folk on whom he cried  
Assemble might, but out alone he flies,  
A thousand foes the man alone defied,  
And run among a thousand enemies:  
But with his fury called from every side,  
The rest run out, and Aladine forth hies,  
The cowards had no fear, the wise no cairo,  
This was not hope, nor courage, but despair.   

77  
The dreadful Turk with sudden blows down cast,  
The first he met, nor gave them time to plain,  
Or pray, in murdering them he made such haste,  
That dead they fell, ere one could see them slain;  
From mouth to mouth, from eye to eye forth past  
The fear and terror, that the faithful train  
Of Syrian folk, not used to dangrous fight,  
Were broken, scattered, and nigh put to flight.   

78  
But with less terror and disorder less,  
The Gascoignes kept array, and kept their ground,  
Though most the loss and peril them oppress,  
Unwares assailed they were, unready found:  
No rauning tooth or talon hard I guess  
Of beast, or eager hawk, doth slay and wound  
So many sheep, or fowls weak, feeble, small,  
As his sharp sword killed knights and soldiers tall:   

79  
It seemed his thirst and hunger suage he would  
With their slain bodies, and their blood powered out,  
With him his troops and Aladino old  
Slew their besiegers, killed the Gascoigne rout:  
But Raimond ran to meet the sultan bold,  
Nor to encounter him had fear or doubt,  
Though his right hand by proof too well he know,  
Which laid him late for dead, at one huge blow,   

80  
They met and Raimond fell amid the field,  
This blow again upon his forehead light,  
It was the fault and weakness of his eild,  
Age is not fit to bear strokes of such might,  
Each one lift up his sword, advanced his shield,  
Those would destroy, and these defend the knight,  
On went the sultan, for the man he thought  
Was slain, or easily might be captive brought.   

81  
Among the rest he ran, he raged, he smote,  
And in small space, small time, great wonders wrought;  
And as his rage him led and fury hot,  
To kill and murder matter new he sought:  
As from his supper poor, with hungry throat,  
A peasant hasts to a rich feast ibrought,  
So from this skirmish to the battle great  
He ran, and quenched with blood his fury's heat.   

82  
Where battered was the wall he sallied out,  
And to the field in haste and heat he goes,  
With him went rage and fury, fear and doubt  
Remained behind, among his scattered foes:  
To win the conquest, strove his squadron stout,  
Which he unperfect left, yet loath to loes  
The day: the Christians fight, resist and die,  
And ready were to yield, retire and fly.   

83  
The Gascoigne bands retired, but kept array,  
The Syrian people ran away outright,  
The fight was near the place where Tancred lay,  
His house was full of noise, and great affright,  
He rose and looked forth to see the fray,  
Though every limb were weak, faint, void of might,  
He saw the county lie, his men o'erthrown,  
Some beaten back, some killed, some felled down:   

84  
Courage in noble hearts that near is spent,  
Yet fainted not, though faint were every limb,  
But reinforst each member cleft and rend,  
And want of blood and strength supplied in him,  
In his left hand his heavy shield he hent,  
Nor seemed the weight too great, his curtle-axe trim  
His tied hand drew, nor for more arms he stood,  
Or stayed, he needs no more, whose heart is good:   

85  
But coming forth, cried, whither will you run,  
And leave your leader to his foes in prey?  
What? shall these heathen of his armour won,  
(In their vile temples) hang up trophies gay?  
Go home to Gascoigne then, and tell his son,  
That where his father died you ran away,  
This said, against a thousand armed foes,  
He did his breast weak, naked, sick, oppoes,   

86  
And with his heavy, strong, and mighty targe,  
(That with seven hard bulls hides was surely lined)  
And strengthened with a cover thick and large,  
Of stiff and well attempered steel behind,  
He shielded Raimond from the furious charge,  
From swords, from darts, from weapons of each kind,  
And all his foes drove back with his sharp blade,  
That sure and safe he lay, as in a shade.   

87  
Thus saved, thus shielded Raimond 'gan respire,  
He rose and reared himself in little space,  
And in his bosom burned the double fire  
Of vengeance, wrath, his heart; shame filled his face;  
He looked around to spy, (such was his ire)  
The man, whose stroke had laid him in that place,  
Whom when he sees not, for disdain he quakes,  
And on his people sharp revengement takes.   

88  
The Gascoines turn again, their Lord in haste  
To venge their loss his band recordred brings,  
The troop that durst so much now stood aghast,  
For where sad fear grew late, now boldness springs,  
Now followed, they that fled; fled, they that chaste;  
So in one hour altereth the state of things,  
Raimond requites his loss, shame, hurt and all,  
And with an hundredth deaths revenged one fall.   

89  
Whilst Raimond wreaked thus his just disdain  
On the proud heads of captains, Lords and pears,  
He spies great zions king amid the train,  
And to him leaps, and high his sword he rears,  
And on his forehead strikes, and strikes again,  
Till helm and head he breaks, he cleaves, he tears,  
Down fell the king, the guiltless land he bitten,  
That now keeps him, because he kept not it.   

90  
Their guides one murdered thus, the other gone,  
The troops divided were in divers thought,  
Despair made some run headlong 'gainst their fone,  
To seek sharp death, that comes uncalled, unsought;  
And some (that laid their hope on flight alone)  
Fled to their fort again; yet chance so wrought,  
That (with the fliers) in the victors pass,  
And so the fortress won, and conquered was.   

91  
The hold was won, slain were the men that fled,  
In courts, halls, chambers high; above, below,  
Old Raimond fast up to the leads him sped,  
And there (of victory true sign and show)  
His glorious standard to the wind he spread,  
That so both armies his success might know.  
But Soliman saw not the town was lost,  
For far from thence he was, and near the host;   

92  
Into the field he came, the lukewarm blood  
Did smoke, and flow through all the purple field,  
There of sad death the court and palace stood,  
There did he triumphs lead, and trophies beild,  
An armed stead fast by the sultan yood,  
That had no guide, nor lord the rains to wield,  
The tyrant took the bridle, and bestroad  
The coursers empty back, and forth he road.   

93  
Great, yet but short and sudden, was the aid,  
That to the Pagans, faint and weak he brought,  
A thunderbolt he was, you would have said,  
Great, yet that comes and goes as swift as thought,  
And of his coming swift, and flight unstaid  
Eternal signs in hardest rocks hath wrought,  
For by his hand an hundredth knights were slain,  
But time forgot hath all their names, but twain;   

94  
Gildippes' fair, and Edward thy dear lord,  
Your noble death, sad end, and woeful fate,  
(If so much power our vulgar tongue afford)  
To all strange wits, strange ears let me dilate,  
That ages all your love, and sweet accord,  
Your virtue, prowess, worth, may imitate,  
And some kind servant of true love (that hears)  
May grace your death, my verses, with some tears.   

95  
The noble Lady thither boldly flew,  
Where the fierce sultan fought, and him defied,  
Two mighty blows she gave the Turk untrue,  
One cloven his shield, the other pierced his side;  
The prince the damsel by her habit knew,  
See, see, this mankind strumpet, see (he cried)  
This shameless whore, for thee fit weapons wear  
Thy neeld and spindle, not a sword and spear.   

96  
This said, full of disdain, rage, and despite,  
A strong, a fierce, a deadly stroke he gave,  
And pierced her armour, pierced her bosom white,  
Worthy no blows, but blows of love, to have,  
Her dying hand let go the bridle quite,  
She faints, she falls, twixt life and death she strove,  
Her lord to help her came, but came too late,  
Yet was not that his fault, it was his fate.   

97  
What should he do? to divers parts him call  
Just ire and pity kind, one bids him go,  
And secure his dear Lady, like to fall;  
The other calls for vengeance on his foe,  
Love biddeth both, love says he must do all,  
And with his ire, joins grief; with pity, woe.  
What did he then? with his left hand the knight  
Would hold her up, revenge her with his right.   

98  
But to resist against a knight so bold  
Too weak his will and power divided, wear;  
So that he could not his fair love uphold,  
Nor kill the cruel man that slew his dear,  
His arm, that did his mistress kind enfold  
The Turk cut off, pale grew his looks and cheer,  
He let her fall, himself fell by her side,  
And for he could not save her, with her died.   

99  
As the high elm (whom his dear vine hath twinned  
Fast in her hundred arms, and holds embraced,)  
Bears down to earth his spouse and darling kind,  
If storm or cruel steel the tree down cast,  
And her full grapes to nought doth bruise and grind,  
Spoils his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last,  
And seems to mourn and die, not for his own  
But for her death, with him that lies o'erthrown:   

100  
So fell he mourning, mourning for the dame,  
Who life and death had made for ever his;  
They would have spoke, but not one word could frame,  
Deep sobs their speech, sweet sighs their language is,  
Each gazed on others eyes, and, while the same  
Is lawful, join their hands, embrace and kiss:  
And thus sharp death, their knot of life untied,  
Together fainted they, together died.   

101  
But now swift fame her nimble wings dispred,  
And told each where their chance, their fate, their fall,  
Rinaldo heard the case, by one that fled  
From the fierce Turk, and brought him news of all,  
Disdain, goodwill, woe, wrath the champion led  
To take revenge, shame, grief, for vengeance call.  
But as he went Adrastus with his blade,  
Forestalled the way, and show of combat made.   

102  
The giant cried, by sundry signs I note,  
That whom I wish, I search, thou, thou art he,  
I marked each worthies shield, his helm, his cote,  
And all this day have called and cried for thee,  
To my sweet saint I have thy head devote,  
Thou must my sacrifice, my offering be,  
Come let us here our strength and courage try,  
Thou art Armidas foe, her champion I.   

103  
Thus he defied him, on his front before,  
And on his throat he struck him, yet the blow  
His helmet neither bruised, cloven nor tore,  
But in his saddle made him bend and bow;  
Rinaldo hit him on the flank so sore,  
That neither art nor herb could help him now;  
Down fell the Giant strong, one blow such power,  
Such puissance had; so falls a thundered tower.   

104  
With horror, fear, amazedness and dread,  
Cold were the hearts of all that saw the fray,  
And Soliman (that viewed that noble deed)  
Trembled, his paleness did his fear bewray;  
For in that stroke he did his end arreed,  
He witted not what to think, to do, to say,  
A thing in him unused, rare and strange,  
But so doth heaven men's hearts turn, altar, change.   

105  
As when the sick or frantic men oft dream  
In their unquiet sleep, and slumber short,  
And think they run some speedy course, and seam  
To move their legs and feet in hasty sort;  
Yet feel their limbs far slower than the stream  
Of their vain thoughts, that bears them in this sport,  
And oft would speak, would cry, would call or shout,  
Yet neither sound, nor voice, nor word send out:   

106  
So run to fight the angry sultan would,  
And did enforce his strength, his might, his ire,  
Yet felt not in himself his courage old,  
His wonted force, his rage and hot desire,  
His eyes (that sparkled wrath and fury bold)  
Grew dim and feeble, fear had quenched that fire,  
And in his heart an hundredth passions fought,  
Yet not on fear or base retire he thought.   

107  
While unresolved he stood, the victor knight  
Arrived, and seemed in quickness, haste and speed,  
In boldness, greatness, goodliness and might,  
Above all Princes borne of humane seed:  
The Turk small while resists, not death, nor fight  
Made him forget his state, or race, through dread,  
He fled no strokes, he fetched no groan nor sigh,  
Bold were his motions last, proud, stately, high.   

108  
Now when the sultan (in these battles past  
That Antheus like oft fell, oft rose again,  
Ever more fierce, more fell) fell down at last  
To lie for ever, when this Prince was slain:  
Fortune, that seld is stable, firm, or fast,  
No longer durst resist the Christian train,  
But ranged herself in row with Godfreics knights,  
With them she serves, she run, she rides, she fights.   

109  
The Pagan troops, the kings own squadron fled,  
Of all the East the strength, the pride, the flower,  
Late called immortal, now discomfited,  
It lost that title proud, and lost all power:  
To him that with the royal standard fled,  
Thus Emireno said, with speeches sour,  
Art not thou he to whom to bear I gave  
My kings great banner, and his standard brave?   

110  
This ensign (Rimedon) I gave not thee  
To be the witness of thy fear and flight,  
Coward, dost thou thy Lord and captain see  
In battle strong, and ronn'st thyself from fight?  
What seekest thou? Safety? come, return with me,  
The way to death, is path to virtue right,  
Here let him fight that would escape; for this  
The way to honour, way to safety is.   

111  
The man returned, and swelled with scorn and shame,  
The Duke with speeches grave exhorts the rest;  
He threats, he strikes sometime, till back they came,  
And rage 'gainst force, despair 'gainst death addressed.  
Thus of his broken armies 'gan he frame  
A battle now, some hope dwelled in his breast,  
But Tisiphernes bold reviv'd him most,  
Who fought, and seemed to win, when all was lost;   

112  
Wonders that day wrought noble Tisipherne,  
The hardy Normans all he overthrew;  
The Flemings fled before the champion stern,  
Gernier, Rogero, Gerard bold he slew;  
His glorious deeds to praise and fame eterne  
His lives short date prolonged, enlarged and drew,  
And then (as he that set sweet life at nought)  
The greatest peril, danger most he sought.   

113  
He spied Rinaldo, and although his field  
Of azure, purple now and sanguine shows,  
And though the silver bird amid his shield  
Were armed gules; yet he the champion knows,  
And says, here greatest peril is, heavens yield  
Strength to my courage, fortune to my blows,  
That fair Armida her revenge may see,  
Help Macon, for his arms I vow to thee.   

114  
Thus prayed he, but all his vows were vain,  
Mahu was deaf, or slept in heavens above,  
And as a lion strikes him with his train,  
His native wrath to quicken and to move;  
So he awaked his fury and disdain,  
And sharped his courage on the whetstone love,  
Himself he saved behind his mighty targe,  
And forward spurred his stead, and gave the charge.   

115  
The Christian saw the hardy warrior come,  
And leapt forth to undertake the fight,  
The people round about gave place and room,  
And wondered on that fierce and cruel sight,  
Some praised their strength, their skill, and courage some,  
Such and so desperate blows struck either knight,  
That all that saw forgot both ire and strife,  
Their wounds, their hurts, forgot both death and life:   

116  
One stroke, the other did both strike and wound,  
His arms were surer, and his strength was more;  
From Tisipherne the blood streamed down around,  
His shield was cleft, his helm was rend and tore.  
The dame (that saw his blood besmear the ground,  
His armour broke, limbs weak, wounds deep and sore,  
And all her guard dead, fled, and overthrown)  
Thought, now her field lay waste, her hedge lay down:   

117  
Environed with so brave a troop but late,  
Now stood she in her chariot all alone,  
She feared bondage, and her life did hate,  
All hope of conquest and revenge was gone,  
Half mad and half amazed, from where she sat,  
She leapt down, and fled from friends and fone,  
On a swift horse she mounts, and forth she rides  
Alone, save for disdain and love, her guides.   

118  
In days of old, Queen Cleopatra so  
Alone fled from the fight and cruel fray,  
Against Augustus' great his happy foe,  
Leaving her Lord, to loss, and sure decay.  
And as that Lord for love let honour go,  
Followed her flying sails, and lost the day:  
So Tisipherne the fair and fearful dame  
Would follow, but his foe forbids the same.   

119  
But when the Pagans joy and comfort fled,  
It seemed the sun was set, the day was night,  
'Gainst the brave Prince with whom he combated  
He turned, and on the forehead stroke the knight:  
When thunders forged are in Tiphoius bed,  
Not Brontes hammer falls so swift, so right;  
The furious stroke fell on Rinaldoes' crest,  
And made him bend his head down to his breast.   

120  
The champion in his stirrups high upstart,  
And cloven his hawberke hard and tender side,  
And sheathed his weapon in the Pagans heart,  
The castle where man's life and soul do bide;  
The cruel sword his breast and hinder part  
With double wound unclosed, and opened wide;  
And two large doors made for his life and breath,  
Which passed, and cured hot love, with frozen death.   

121  
This done, Rinaldo stayed, and looked around,  
Where he should harm his foes, or help his friends;  
Nor of the Pagans saw he squadron sound:  
Each standard falls, ensign to earth descends;  
His fury quiet than and calm he found,  
There all his wrath, his rage and rancour ends.  
He called to mind, how (far from help or aid)  
Armida fled, alone, amazed, afraid:   

122  
Well saw he when she fled, and with that sight  
The Prince had pirie, courtesy and care;  
He promised her to be her friend and knight,  
When erst he left her in the island bare:  
The way she fled he ran and road aright,  
Her palfrays feet signs in the grass out ware:  
But she this while found out an ugly shade,  
Fit place for death, where nought could life persuade.   

123  
Well pleased was she with those shadows brown,  
And yet displeased with luck, with life, with love,  
There from her stead she lighted, there laid down  
Her bow and shafts, her arms that helpless prove  
There lie with shame (she says) disgraced, o'erthrown,  
Blunt are the weapons, blunt the arms I move,  
Weak to revenge my harms, or harm my foe,  
My shafts are blunt, ah love, would thine were so!   

124  
Alas, among so many, could not one,  
Not one draw blood, one wound or rend his skin?  
All other breasts to you are marble stone,  
Dare you than pierce a woman's bosom thin?  
See, see, my naked heart, on this alone,  
Employ your force, this fort is each to win,  
And love will shoot you from his mighty bow,  
Weak is the shot that dripile falls in snow.   

125  
I pardon will your fear and weakness past,  
Be strong (mine arrows) cruel, sharp 'gainst me,  
Ah wretch, how is thy chance and fortune cast,  
If placed in these, thy good and comfort be?  
But since all hope is vain, all help is waste,  
Since hurts ease hurts, wounds must cure wounds in thee;  
Then with thine arrows stroke cure strokes of love,  
Death for thy heart must salve, and surgeon prove.   

126  
And happy me, if being dead and slain,  
I bear not with me this strange plague to hell,  
Love, stay behind, come thou with me disdain,  
And with my wronged soul for ever dwell;  
Or else with it turn to the world again,  
And vex that knight with dreams and visions fell,  
And tell him (when twixt life and death I strove)  
My last wish, was revenge; last word, was love.   

127  
And with that word half mad, half dead, she seams,  
An arrow, poignant, strong and sharp she took,  
When her dear knight found her in these extremes,  
Now fit to die, and pass the Stygian brook,  
Now priest to quench her own and beauties, beams;  
Now death sat on her eyes, death in her look,  
When to her back he stepped, and stayed her arm  
Stretched forth, to do that service last, last harm.   

128  
She turns, and (ere she knows) her Lord she spies,  
Whose coming was unwisht, unthought, unknown,  
She shrieks, and twines away her sdeignfull eyes  
From his sweet face, she falls dead in a swoon,  
Falls as a flower half cut, that bending lies:  
He held her up, and lest she tumble down,  
Under her tender side his arm he placed,  
His hand her girdle loosed, her gown unlast;   

129  
And her fair face, fair bosom he bedews  
With tears, tears of remorse, of ruth, of sorrow.  
As the pale Rose her colour lost renews,  
With the fresh drops fallen from the silver morrow;  
So she revives, and cheeks empurpled shows,  
Moist with their own tears, and with tears they borrow;  
Thrice looked she up, her eyes thrice closed she,  
As who say, let me die, ere look on thee.   

130  
And his strong arm, with weak and feeble hand,  
She would have thrust away, loosed, and untwined:  
Oft strove she (but in vain) to break that band,  
For he the ●old he got not yet resined,  
Herself fast bound in those dear knots she found,  
Dear, though she feigned scorn, strove and repined:  
At last she speaks, she weeps, complains and cries;  
Yet durst not, did not, would not see his eyes.   

131  
Cruel at thy departure, at return  
As cruel, say, what chance thee hither guideth,  
Wouldst thou prevent her death, whose heart forlorn  
For thee, for thee deaths strokes each hour divideth?  
comest thou to save my life? alas, what scorn,  
What torment for Armida poor abideth?  
No, no, thy crafts and sleights I well descry,  
But she can little do that cannot die.   

132  
Thy triumph is not great, nor well arrayed,  
Unless in chains thou lead a captive dame;  
A dame now ta'en by force, before betrayed,  
This is thy greatest glory, greatest fame:  
Time was that thee of love and life I prayed,  
Let death now end my love, my life, my shame,  
Yet let not thy false hand bereave this breath,  
For if it were thy gift, hateful were death.   

133  
Cruel, myself an hundredth ways can find,  
To rid me from thy malice, from thy hate,  
If weapons sharp, if poisons of all kind,  
If fire, if strangling fail, in that estate;  
Yet ways enough I know to stop this wind:  
A thousand entries hath the house of fate.  
Ah, leave these flattries, leave weak hope to move,  
Cease, cease, my hope is dead, dead is my love.   

134  
Thus mourned she, and from her watery eyes,  
Disdain and love dropped down, rolled up in tears;  
From his pure fountains ran two streams likewise,  
Wherein chaste pity and mild ruth appears:  
Thus with sweet words the Queen he pacifies,  
Madam, appease your grief, your wrath, your fears,  
For to be crowned, not scorned, your life I save;  
Your foe, nay but your friend, your knight, your slave.   

135  
But if you trust no speech, no oath, no word;  
Yet in mine eyes, my zeal, my truth, behold:  
For to that throne (whereof thy fire was Lord)  
I will restore thee, crown thee with that gold,  
And if high heaven would so much grace afford,  
As from thy heart this cloud, this vail unfold  
Of paganism, in all the East no dame  
Should equalize thy fortune, state and fame.   

136  
Thus plaineth he, thus prays, and his desire  
Endears with sighs that fly, and tears that fall;  
That as against the warmth of Titan's fire,  
Snow drifts consume on tops of mountains tall:  
So melts her wrath, but love remains entire.  
Behold (she says) your handmaid and your thrall;  
My life, my crown, my wealth use at your pleasure:  
Thus death her life became, loss proved her treasure.   

137  
This while the captain of th'Egyptian host,  
That saw his royal standard laid on ground,  
Saw Rimedon, that ensigns prop and post,  
By godfreys noble hand, killed with one wound,  
And all his folk discomfit, slain and lost,  
No coward was in this last batrell found,  
But road about and sought (nor sought in vain)  
Some famous hand of which he might be slain:   

138  
Against lord Godfrey boldly out he flew,  
For nobler foe he wished not, could not spy,  
Of desperate courage show'd he tokens true,  
Where ere he joined, or stayed, or passed buy,  
And cried to the Duke as near he drew,  
Behold of thy strong hand I come to die,  
Yet trust to overthrow thee with my fall,  
My castles ruins shall break down thy wall.   

139  
This said, forth spurred they both, both high advance  
Their swords aloft, both stroke at once, both hit,  
His left arm wounded had the knight of France,  
His shield was pierced, his vantbrace cleft and split,  
The Pagan backward fell, half in a trance,  
On his left ear his foe so hugely smit,  
And as he sought to rise, Godfredoes sword  
Pierced him through, so died that army's Lord.   

140  
Of his great host when Emiren was dead,  
Fled the small remnant that alive remained;  
Godfrey espied as he turned his stead,  
Great Altamore on foot, with blood all stained,  
With half a sword, half helm upon his head,  
'Gainst whom an hundredth fought, yet not one gained,  
Cease, cease this strife, he cried: and thou brave knight,  
Yield, I am Godfrey, yield thee to my might.   

141  
He that till than his proud and haughty heart  
To act of humbleness did never bend,  
When that great name he heard, from the north part  
Of our wide world, renowned to aethiop's end,  
Answered, I yield to thee, thou worthy art,  
I am thy prisoner, fortune is thy friend:  
On Altamoro great thy conquest bold  
Of glory shall be rich, and rich of gold:   

142  
My loving Queen, my wife and Lady kind  
Shall ransom me with jewels, gold and treasure.  
God shield (quoth Godfrey) that my noble mind  
Should praise and virtue so by profit measure,  
All that thou hast from Persia and from Ind  
Enjoy it still, therein I take no pleasure,  
I set no rent on life, no price on blood,  
I fight, and fell not war for gold or good.   

143  
This said, he gave him to his knights to keep,  
And after those that fled his course he bent;  
They to their rampires fled and trenches deep,  
Yet could not so deaths cruel stroke prevent,  
The camp was won, and all in blood doth steep,  
The blood in rivers streamed from tent to tent,  
It soiled, defiled, defaced all the pray,  
Shields, helmets, armours, plumes and feathers gay.   

144  
Thus conquered Godfrey, and as yet the son  
Dived not in silver waves his golden wain,  
But daylight served him to the fortress won  
With his victorious host to turn again,  
His bloody cote he put not off, but run  
To the high Temple with his noble train,  
And there hung up his arms, and there he bows  
His knees, there prayed, and there performed his vows.    
FINIS.   

Printed at London by Ar. Hatfield for John Jaggard and M. Lownes. 1600.