LV Hierusalem 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 imbarred with crags and hills, The rest is easy, scant to rise espied: But mighty bulwarks fence that plainer part, So art helps nature, nature strengtheneth art.

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

LVII By east, among the dusty valleys, glide The silver streams of Jordan's 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; Bethlem by south, where Christ incarnate was, A pearl in steel, a diamond set in brass.

LVIII 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; Ermina as he armed rode, him spied, And thus bespake the heathen tyrant stout, "See Godfrey there, in purple clad and gold, His stately port, and princely look behold.

LIX "Well seems he born to be with honor 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. Raymond pardie in counsel match him might; Tancred and young Rinaldo like in fight."

LX To whom the king: "He likes me well therefore, I knew him whilom in the court of France When I from Egypt went ambassador, 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.

LXI "Presages, ah too true:" with that a space He sighed for grief, then said, "Fain 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 some-deal more low." "Baldwin," quoth she, "that noble baron hight, By birth his brother, and his match in might.

LXII "Next look on him that seems for counsel fit, Whose silver locks betray his store of days, Raymond he hight, a man of wondrous wit, Of Toulouse lord, his wisdom is his praise; What he forethinks doth, as he looks for, hit, His stratagems have good success always: With gilded helm beyond him rides the mild And good Prince William, England's king's dear child.

LXIII "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 ruinate My high estate, and Antioch opprest, I see not, Boemond, that to death did bring Mine aged lord, my father, and my king."

LXIV Thus talked they; meanwhile Godfredo went Down to the troops that in the valley stayed, And for in vain he thought the labor spent, To assail those parts that to the mountains laid, Against the northern gate his force he bent, Gainst it he camped, gainst it his engines played; All felt the fury of his angry power, That from those gates lies to the corner tower.

LXV The town's third part was this, or little less, Fore which the duke his glorious ensigns spread, For so great compass had that forteress, 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.

LXVI 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 flight. 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.

LXVII His wailing friends adorned the mournful bier With woful pomp, whereon his corpse they laid, And when they saw the Bulloigne prince draw near, All felt new grief, and each new sorrow made; But he, withouten show or change of cheer, His springing tears within their fountains stayed, His rueful looks upon the corpse he cast Awhile, and thus bespake the same at last;

LXVIII "We need not mourn for thee, here laid to rest, Earth is thy bed, and not the 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 Redeemer's sight, where crowned with bliss Thy faith, zeal, merit, well-deserving is.

LXIX "Our loss, not thine, provokes these plaints and tears: For when we lost thee, then 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 hears Her chiefest earthly aid, in heaven yet placed Thou wilt procure its help Divine, so reaps He that sows godly sorrow, joy by heaps.

LXX "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 bent Gainst Sion's fort, these gates and bulwarks rend, That so by hand may win this hold, and we May in these temples praise our Christ for thee."

LXXI Thus he complained; but now the sable shade Ycleped night, had thick enveloped The sun in veil 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.

LXXII Up with the lark the sorrowful duke arose, A mourner chief at Dudon's 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 Dudon's corpse they softly laid in ground, The priest sung hymns, the soldiers wept around.

LXXIII 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 fights and happy frays: His shield they fixed on the hole below, And there this distich under-writ, which says, "This palm with stretched arms, doth overspread The champion Dudon's glorious carcase dead."

LXXIV 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.

LXXV 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 treen, 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.

LXXVI The shooter grew, the broad-leaved sycamore, The barren plantain, 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.



FOURTH BOOK

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.

I 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 bent askance; And when he saw their labors well succeed, He wept for rage, and threatened dire mischance. He choked his curses, to himself he spake, Such noise wild bulls that softly bellow make.

II 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 naught God to resist, or change his purpose great, Who on his foes doth thunder in his ire, Whose arrows hailstones he and coals of fire.

III The dreary trumpet blew a dreadful blast, And rumbled through the lands and kingdoms under, Through wasteness 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, Not half so loud the whistling winds do sing, Broke from the earthen prisons of their King.

IV 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 hing, And some their forked tails stretch forth on high, And tear the twinkling stars from trembling sky.

V There were Silenus' foul and loathsome route, There Sphinxes, Centaurs, there were Gorgons fell, There howling Scillas, yawling round about, There serpents hiss, there seven-mouthed Hydras yell, Chimera there spues fire and brimstone out, And Polyphemus blind supporteth hell, Besides ten thousand monsters therein dwells Misshaped, unlike themselves, and like naught else.

VI About their princes each took his wonted seat On thrones red-hot, ybuilt of burning brass, Pluto in middest heaved his trident great, Of rusty 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 mole-hills be, So his rough front, his horns so lifted he.

VII 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.

VIII And as Mount Etna vomits sulphur out, With cliffs of burning 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 durst not 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:

IX "Ye powers infernal, worthier far to sit About 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.

X "And now instead 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 griefs to multiply, That sinful creature man, elected is; And in our place the heavens possess he must, Vile man, begot of clay, and born of dust.

XI "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 brake our prisons and would algates save The souls there here should dwell in woe and pain, And now in heaven with him they live always With endless glory crowned, and lasting praise.

XII "But why recount I thus our passed harms? Remembrance fresh makes weakened sorrows strong, Expulsed were we with injurious arms From those due honors, 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?

XIII "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 prey he Sion to her conquering foes, Let her adore again her Christ aright, Who her before all nations whilom chose; In brazen tables he his lore ywrit, And let all tongues and lands acknowledge it.

XIV "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.

XV "Oh, he not then the courage perished clean, That whilom dwelt 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 Phlegrean green, Yet good our cause was, though our fortune naught; For chance assisteth oft the ignobler part, We lost the field, yet lost we not our heart.

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

XVII "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 yeas and nays, And pine in foolish love, let some complain On Godfrey's rule, and mutinies gainst him raise, Turn each one's sword against his fellow's heart, Thus kill them all or spoil the greatest part."

XVIII 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.

XIX About the world they spread forth far and wide, Filling the thoughts of each ungodly heart With secret mischief, anger, hate and pride, Wounding lost souls with sin's empoisoned dart. But say, my Muse, recount whence first they tried To hurt the Christian lords, and from what part, Thou knowest of things performed so long agone, This latter age hears little truth or none.

XX 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.

XXI And yet he thought, — Oh, vain conceit of man, Which as thou wishest judgest things to come! — That the French host to sure destruction ran, Condemned quite by Heaven's eternal doom: He thinks no force withstand or vanquish can The Egyptian strength, and therefore would that some Both of the prey and glory of the fight Upon this Syrian folk would haply light.

XXII But for he held the Frenchmen's worth in prize, And feared the doubtful gain of bloody war, He, that was closely false and slyly war, 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.

XXIII 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:

XXIV "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 untrue, 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.

XXV "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 stubborn hearts with pity frail to move; Look pale for dread, and blush sometime for shame, In seeming truth thy lies will soonest frame.

XXVI "Take with the bait Lord Godfrey, if thou may'st; Frame snares of look, strains of alluring speech; For if he love, the conquest then thou hast, Thus purposed war thou may'st with ease impeach, Else lead the other Lords to deserts waste, And hold them slaves far from their leader's reach:" Thus taught he her, and for conclusion, saith, "All things are lawful for our lands and faith."

XXVII 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.

XXVIII Within few days the nymph arrived there Where puissant Godfrey had his tents ypight; 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 ybrought.

XXIX Yet never eye to Cupid's service vowed Beheld a face of such a lovely pride; A tinsel veil 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 Cnidos, naked She seemed, were she unclothed, or that awaked.

XXX The gamesome wind among her tresses plays, And curleth up those growing riches short; Her spareful eye to spread his beams denays, 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 naught but the single rose, Still blush, for still they kiss while still they close.

XXXI 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, So was the wanton clad, as if this much Should please the eye, the rest unseen, the touch.

XXXII As when the sunbeams dive through Tagus' wave, To spy the store-house of his springtime gold, Love-piercing thought so through her mantle drave, 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.

XXXIII Thus passed 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 gestures seeming virtue sat, Toward the imperial tent she asked the way: With that she met a bold and lovesome knight, Lord Godfrey's youngest brother, Eustace hight.

XXXIV This was the fowl that first fell in the snare, He saw her fair, and hoped to find her kind; The throne of Cupid had an easy stair, His bark is fit to sail 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.

XXXV "Lady, if thee beseem a stile so low, In whose sweet looks such sacred beauty shine, — For never yet did Heaven such grace bestow On any daughter born 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 honors due become thy high estate."

XXXVI "Sir Knight," quoth she, "your praises reach too high Above her merit you commenden so, A hapless maid I am, both born to die And dead to joy, that live in care and woe, A virgin helpless, fugitive pardie, 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.

XXXVII "Conduct me then that mighty duke before, If you be courteous, sir, as well you seem." "Content," quoth he, "since of one womb ybore, We brothers are, your fortune good esteem To 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."

XXXVIII He led her easily forth when this was said, Where Godfrey sat among his lords and peers, 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 sit to hear, thus sung this nightingale:

XXXIX "Victorious prince, whose honorable 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 Paynims wronged come to seek thine aid, So doth thy virtue, so thy power persuade.

XL "And I though bred in Macon's 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.

XLI "In thee I hope, thy succors I invoke, To win the crown whence I am dispossest; For like renown awaiteth on the stroke To cast the haughty down or raise the opprest; Nor greater glory brings a sceptre broke, Than doth deliverance of a maid distrest; And since thou canst at will perform the thing, More is thy praise to make, than kill a king.

XLII "But if thou would'st thy succors due excuse, Because in Christ I have no hope nor trust, Ah yet for virtue's 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.

XLIII "Prince Arbilan that reigned in his life On fair Damascus, was my noble sire, Born of mean race he was, yet got to wife The Queen Chariclia, 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.

XLIV "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 the Elysian fields, 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 hath.

XLV "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 hid the serpent in the flowering grass, On that true faith did in his bosom won, Because he meant to match me with his son.

XLVI "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, advance in lofty sell; 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.

XLVII "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 glosing 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 stopt her ears from charms.

XLVIII "At last he left me with a troubled grace, Through which transparent was his inward spite, Methought I read 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 any sleep by night, Grief, horror, fear my fainting soul did kill, For so my mind foreshowed my coming ill.

XLIX "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 eame, Who poison gainst thy harmless life provides:' This said, to shapeless air unseen she glides.

L "But what avail high walls or bulwarks strong, Where fainting cowards have the piece to guard? My sex too weak, mine age was all to young, To undertake alone a work so hard, To wander wild the desert woods among, A banished maid, of wonted ease debarred, So grievous seemed, that liefer were my death, And there to expire where first I drew my breath.

LI "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.

LII "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 be kept, Should give me poison dire ere next I slept.

LIII "And further told me, if I wished to live, I must convey myself by secret flight, And offered then 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 depart with him.

LIV "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.

LV "My steeds drew on the burden of my limbs, But still my locks, my thoughts, drew back as fast, So fare the men, that from the heaven's 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 haste, At last, nigh tired, a castle strong we fand, The utmost border of my native land.

LVI "The fort Arontes was, for so the knight Was called, that my deliverance 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.

LVII "And that in lieu of his approved truth, To poison him I hired had my guide, That he despatched, mine unbridled youth Might rage at will, in no subjection tied, And that each night I slept — O foul untruth! — Mine honor lost, by this Arontes' side: But Heaven I pray send down revenging fire, When so base love shall change my chaste desire.

LVIII "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 take armor for their queen's defence.

LIX "And though he do my regal throne possess, Clothed in purple, crowned with burnished gold; Yet is his hate, his rancor, ne'er the less, Since naught assuageth malice when 'tis old: He threats to burn Arontes' forteress, And murder him unless he yield the hold, And me and mine threats not with war, but death, Thus causeless hatred, endless is uneath.

LX "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 honor 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.

LXI "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 Sire, I fly, a virgin, orphan, innocent, And let these tears that on thy feet distil, Redeem the drops of blood, he thirsts to spill.

LXII "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 seek'st to free from Macon's 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.

LXIII "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.

LXIV "For lo a knight, that had 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 these some little succor to intreat, Whose name alone accomplish can the feat."

LXV 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 dwelt in his princely mind, That gainst his wisdom, pity made him kind.

LXVI Besides the kindness of his gentle thought, Ready to comfort each distressed wight, The maiden's 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 the Egyptian king and his displeasure.

LXVII Thus was his noble heart long time betwixt Fear and remorse, not granting nor denying, 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 hopes were dead through his delaying; At last her earnest suit the duke denayed, But with sweet words thus would content the maid:

LXVIII "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.

LXIX "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."

LXX At this the princess bent her eyes to ground, And stood unmoved, though not unmarked, 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.

LXXI "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 wraith restrain Heard he these prayers ruthless Godfrey hears, Yet not thy fault is this, my chance, I see, Hath made even pity, pitiless in thee.

LXXII "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 queen-like state, my flight hath disarrayed 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 bough.

LXXIII "And for the modest lore of maidenhood, Bids me not sojourn with these armed men, O 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."

LXXIV 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 gesture 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.

LXXV Her cheeks on which this streaming nectar fell, Stilled through the limbeck of her diamond eyes, The roses white and red resembled well, Whereon the rory May-dew sprinkled lies When the fair morn first blusheth from her cell, And breatheth balm from opened paradise; Thus sighed, thus mourned, thus wept this lovely queen, And in each drop bathed a grace unseen.

LXXVI 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 wildfire 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.

LXXVII This forged plaint drew forth unfeigned tears From many eyes, and pierced each worthy's 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.

LXXVIII But jolly Eustace, in whose breast the brand Of love and pity kindled had the flame, While others softly whispered underhand, 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.

LXXIX "And think not that Eustace's talk assays To turn these forces from this present war, Or that I wish you should your armies raise From Sion's 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 troop may ten well spared be To succor her, which naught can weaken thee.

LXXX "And know, they shall in God's high service fight, That virgins innocent save and defend: Dear will the spoils be in the Heaven's sight, That from a tyrant's hateful head we rend: Nor seemed I forward in this lady's 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.

LXXXI "Ah! be it not pardie declared in France, Or elsewhere told where courtesy 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 lady's right."

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

LXXXIII "But if with you my words may credit find, Oh 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, man's relenting mind Is eath 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.

LXXXIV Eustace recalled her, and bespake her thus: "Beauty's chief darling, let those 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 veil for to remove, The God himself once more had fallen in love.

LXXXV 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 honor's laws received no breach. Her humble gestures made the residue plain, Dumb eloquence, persuading more than speech: Thus women know, and thus they use the guise, To enchant the valiant, and beguile the wise.

LXXXVI 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 spreading Altered their hearts, and with her syren's sound In lust, their minds, their hearts, in love she drowned.

LXXXVII All wily sleights that subtle women know, Hourly she used, to catch some lover new. None kenned 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 pursued her wanton sport, She spurred the slow, and reined the forward short.

LXXXVIII If some, as hopeless that she would be won, Forebore 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 sun, All strove to serve, to please, to woo, to love her, And in their hearts that chaste and bashful were, Her eye's hot glance dissolved the frost of fear.

LXXXIX 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 deignful looks alway, That outward scorn showed store of grace within: Thus with false hope their longing hearts she fired, For hardest gotten things are most desired.

XC Alone sometimes she walked in secret where, To ruminate upon her discontent, Within her eyelids sate the swelling tear, Not poured 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.

XCI 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 woe.

XCII Her double charm of smiles and sugared words, Lulled on sleep the virtue of their senses, Reason shall 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.

XCIII 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 someone durst utter his desire, And by complaining make his griefs appear, He labored hard rocks with plaints to move, She had not learned the gamut then of love.

XCIV For down she bet 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.

XCV 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 loose the livelong day: Thus all her lovers kind deluded were, Their earnest suit got neither yea nor nay; But like the sort of weary huntsmen fare, That hunt all day, and lose at night the hare.

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



FIFTH BOOK

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 be bound in chains or gyves: Armide departs content, and from the seas Godfrey hears news which him and his displease.

I While thus Armida false the knights misled In wandering errors of deceitful love, And thought, besides the champions promised, The other lordlings 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 the adventures' band Were like in birth, in power, in strength of hand.

II But first the prince, by grave advice, decreed They should some knight choose at their own election, That in his charge Lord Dudon might succeed, And of that glorious troop should take protection; So none should grieve, displeased with the deed, Nor blame the causer of their new subjection: Besides, Godfredo showed by this device, How much he held that regiment in price.

III He called the worthies then, and spake them so: "Lordlings, you know I yielded to your will, And gave you license 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 yon ill; Refrain therefore, and change this forward thought For death unsent for, danger comes unsought.

IV "But if to shun these perils, sought so far, May seem disgraceful to the place yon hold; If grave advice 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 he mine empire, as it ought of right, Sweet, easy, pleasant, gentle, meek and light.

V "Go then or tarry, each as likes him best, Free power I grant you on this enterprise; But first in Dudon's 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."

VI Thus Godfrey said, and thus his brother spake, And answered for himself and all his peers: "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 advice, Wisdom, in you, in us were cowardice.

VII "Since then 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 honor 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.

VIII But loving Eustace, that with jealous eye Beheld the worth of Sophia's noble child, And his fair shape did secretly envy, Besides the virtues in his breast compiled, And, for in love he would no company, He stored his mouth with speeches smoothly filed, Drawing his rival to attend his word; Thus with fair sleight he laid the knight abord:

IX "Of great Bertoldo thou far greater heir, 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 army's shield?

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

XI "Yet mayest thou further by this means display The spreading wings of thy immortal fame; I will procure it, if thou sayest 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."

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

XIII But in his noble thought revolved he oft Dudon's high prowess, death and burial, And how Argantes bore his plumes aloft, Praising his fortunes for that worthy's fall; Besides, the knight's sweet words and praises soft To his due honor did him fitly call, And made his heart rejoice, for well he knew, Though much he praised him, all his words were true.

XIV "Degrees," quoth he, "of honors high to hold, I would them first deserve, and the desire; And were my valor such as you have told, Would I for that to higher place aspire: But if to honors due raise me you would, I will not of my works refuse the hire; And much it glads me, that my power and might Ypraised is by such a valiant knight.

XV "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.

XVI 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 were Famous in war and peace five hundred years.

XVII This barbarous prince, who only vainly thought That bliss in wealth and kingly power doth lie, And in respect esteemed all virtue naught Unless it were adorned with titles high, Could 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.

XVIII The hidden devil, that lies in close await 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 whispereth in his ear.

XIX 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 honored like thine that live, let see: Oh how dares one so mean aspire so high, Born in that servile country Italy?

XX 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 some deal thee haply honor 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.

XXI If when this breath from man's frail body flies The soul take keep, or know the things done here, 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.

XXII 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 favor him more than behoves, Why then he wrongeth thee an hundred ways; Nor let thy state so far disgraced be, Now what thou art and canst, let Godfrey see.

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

XXIV 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 has wicked tongue to wound. The youth, for everywhere those rumors went, Of these reproaches heard sometimes the sound; Nor did for that his tongue the fault amend, Until it brought him to his woful end.

XXV 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 vein; 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.

XXVI There, as his fortune would it should betide, Amid the press Gernando gan retire, To vomit out his venom unespied, 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.

XXVII 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 naught did fear, But bravely drew his little-helping blade, And valiant show of strong resistance made.

XXVIII With that a thousand blades of burnished steel Glistered on heaps like flames of fire in sight, Hundreds, that knew not yet the quarrel weel, 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.

XXIX 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 made, His thundering sword made all on heaps retire, So that of near a thousand stayed not one, But Prince Gernando bore the brunt alone.

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

XXXI Nor ceased be, till in Gernando's 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 stayed, But sped him thence, and soon appeased hath His hate, his ire, his rancor and his wrath.

XXXII 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.

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

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

XXXV And by that means, should discord, hate and strife Raise mutinies, and what therefore ensueth: Lastly he praised the dead, and still had rife All words he thought could vengeance move or rut Against him Tancred argued for life, With honest reasons to excuse the youth: The Duke heard all, but with such sober cheer, As banished hope, and still increased fear.

XXXVI "Great Prince," quoth Tancred; "set before thine eyes Rinaldo's 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 amiss; For faults, you know, are greater thought or less, As is the person's self that doth transgress."

XXXVII Godfredo answered him; "If high and low Of sovereign power alike should feel the stroke, Then, 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 provisos bring annexed withal.

XXXVIII "But mine was freely given ere 'twas 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, Tancredi wisely stayed his words, Such weight the sayings have of kings and lords.

XXXIX 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 punishments appear; For feeble is each kingdom, frail and weak, Unless his basis be this fear I speak."

XL These words Tancredi heard and pondered well, And by them wist how Godfrey's thoughts were bent, 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 heard.

XLI And said, "Although I wot 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 naught; 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."

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

XLIII "If my good service reap this recompense, To be clapt up in close and secret mew, And as a thief be after dragged from thence, To suffer punishment as law finds due; 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.

XLIV "Give me mine arms," he cried; his squire them brings, And clad his head, and dressed in iron strong, About his neck his silver shield he flings, Down by his side a cutting sword there hung; Among this earth's 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.

XLV Tancredi labored with some pleasing speech His spirits fierce and courage to appease; "Young Prince, thy valor," 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 forbid this day you lift your arm To do this camp and us your friends such harm.

XLVI "Tell me what will you do? why would you stain Your noble hands in our unguilty blood? By wounding Christians, will you again Pierce Christ, whose parts they are and members good? Will you destroy us for your glory vain, Unstayed 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.

XLVII "For God's love stay your heat, and just displeasure, Appease your wrath, your courage fierce assuage, Patience, a praise; forbearance, is a treasure; Suffrance, an angel's is; a monster, rage; At least you actions by example measure, And think how I in mine unbridled age Was wronged, yet I would not revengement take On all this camp, for one offender's sake.

XLVIII "Cilicia conquered I, as all men wot, And there the glorious cross on high I reared, But Baldwin 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.

XLIX "If then you scorn to be in prison pent, If bonds, as high disgrace, your hands refuse; Or if your thoughts still to maintain are bent Your liberty, as men of honor 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.

L "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 valor 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.

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

LII He rides, revolving in his noble spright 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 Inde, From Cynthia's hills and Nilus' unknown spring He would fetch praise and glorious conquest bring.

LIII 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 tastes to find Godfredo, if he may: Who seeing him approaching, forthwith spake, "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."

LIV This said, he softly drew the knight aside Where none might hear, and then bespake him thus: "How chanceth it thy nephew's 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.

LV "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 naught but proves I trust: Now if Rinaldo weigh our rule too light, And have the sacred lore of war so brust, Take you the charge that he before us come To clear himself and hear our upright dome.

LVI "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 forced my gentle nature gainst my thought To rigor, lest our laws return to naught."

LVII 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 or 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.

LVIII "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 if 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.

LIX "I say with reason Lord Gernando's 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 nephew's sake, Breed us no new, nor quarrels old awake."

LX This while, the fair and false Armida strived To get her promised aid in sure possession, The day to end, with endless plaint she derived; 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.

LXI But this false queen of craft and sly invention, — Whose looks, love's arrows were; whose eyes his quivers; Whose beauty matchless, free from reprehension, A wonder left by Heaven to after-livers, — Among the Christian lord had bred contention Who first should quench his flames in Cupid's rivers, While all her weapons and her darts rehearsed, Had not Godfredo's constant bosom pierced.

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

LXIII 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 raised: 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.

LXIV The dame who thought that one blink of her eye Could make the chastest heart feel love's 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.

LXV But yet all ways the wily witch could find Could not Tancredi's heart to loveward 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 Could win, the rest all burnt in her sweet flame.

LXVI 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 prey, as erst you heard it told, She thought, ere truth-revealing time or frame Bewrayed her act, to lead them to some hold, Where chains and band she meant to make them prove, Composed by Vulcan not by gentle love.

LXVII The time prefixed at length was come and past, 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.

LXVIII "Before report can bring the tyrant news, Or his espials certify their king, Oh 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 are."

LXIX The captain sage the damsel fair assured, His word was passed 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 fought and procured, No suit, no entreaty, intercession wanted; There envy each at others' love exceeded, And all importunate made, more than needed.

LXX 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 wist 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.

LXXI Her words in such alluring sort she framed, Her looks enticing, and her wooing smiles, That every one his fellows' favors 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 Godfredo's bridle rein them short.

LXXII 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 fellows and these fashions light; Yet since by no advice they would retire, Another way he sought to set them right: "Write all your names," quoth he, "and see whom chance Of lot, to this exploit will first advance."

LXXIII Their names were writ, and in an helmet shaken, While each did fortune's grace and aid implore; At last they drew them, and the foremost taken The Earl of Pembroke was, Artemidore, 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 doating and his dying age.

LXXIV Oh how contentment in their foreheads shined! Their looks with joy; thoughts swelled with secret pleasure, These three it seemed good success designed 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.

LXXV Guasco the fourth, Ridolpho him succeeds, Then Ulderick whom love list so advance, Lord William of Ronciglion next he reads, Then Eberard, and Henry born in France, Rambaldo last, whom wicked lust so leads 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.

LXXVI 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.

LXXVII 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 armor best, And taken leave of Godfrey and the rest.

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

LXXIX 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 sorrow's 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.

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

LXXXI 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 good-will and faith might best be tried." "Who," quoth the other, "choseth thee to prove This high exploit of hers?" He answered, "Love."

LXXXII "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."

LXXXIII And with that word his cutting sword he drew, That glittered 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?

LXXXIV "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 travelled on their way Their fellowship increasing every day.

LXXXV From every side they come, yet wist 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 wist his knights were gone, Within his breast his wiser soul divined Some hard mishap upon his friends should light, For which he sighed all day, and wept all night.

LXXXVI 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 sate 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 weet William Lord Admiral of the Genoa fleet,

LXXXVII "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: The Arabian outlaws them assailed by night, When least they feared, and least they looked for fight.

LXXXVIII "Their frantic boldness doth presume so far, That many Christians have they falsely slain, And like a raging flood they spared 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."

LXXXIX From mouth to mouth the heavy rumor 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 spake, To make them heart again and courage take.

XC "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 appal your courage bold?

XCI "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 valors high To honor, conquest, fame and victory."

XCII Their hopes half dead and courage well-nigh lost, Revived with these brave speeches of their guide; But in his breast a thousand cares he tost, Although his sorrows he could wisely hide; He studied how to feed that mighty host, In so great scarceness, and what force provide He should against the Egyptian warriors sly, And how subdue those thieves of Araby.



SIXTH BOOK

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 begins 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.

I But better hopes had them recomforted That lay besieged in the sacred town; With new supply late were they victualled, When night obscured the earth with shadows brown; Their armies 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 rampiers and strong bulwarks fortifies.

II Their wary king commands now here now there, To build this tower, to make that bulwark strong, Whether the sun, the moon, or stars appear, To give them time to work, no time comes wrong: In every street new weapons forged were, By cunning smiths, sweating with labor long; While thus the careful prince provision made, To him Argantes came, and boasting said:

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

IV "Their time in feasting and good cheer they spend, Nor dare we once their banquets sweet molest, The days and night likewise they bring 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.

V "Yet never shall my courage great consent So vile a death should end my noble days, Nor on mine arms within these walls ypent To-morrow's sun shall spread his timely rays: Let sacred Heavens dispose as they are bent Of this frail like, yet not withouten praise Of valor, prowess, might, Argantes shall Inglorious die, or unrevenged fall.

VI "But if the roots of wonted chivalry Be not quite dead your princely breast within, Devise not how with frame and praise to die, But how to live, to conquer and to win; Let us together at these gates outfly, And skirmish bold and bloody fight begin; For when last need to desperation driveth, Who dareth most he wisest counsel giveth.

VII "But if in field your wisdom dare not venture To hazard all your troops to doubtful fight, Then bind yourself to Godfrey by indenture, 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.

VIII "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."

IX "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 whenas 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.

X "But that which yet I would have further blazed, To thee in secret shall be told and spoken, Great Soliman of Nice, so far ypraised, To be revenged for his sceptre broken, The men of arms of Araby hath raised, From Inde to Africk, and, when we give token, Attends the favor of the friendly night To victual us, and with our foes to fight.

XI "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 make so hot impression; And stay fit time, which will betide are long, To increase thy glory, and revenge our wrong."

XII The Saracen at this was inly spited, Who Soliman's great worth had long envied, To hear him praised thus he naught 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?

XIII "Perchance he comes some heavenly messenger, Sent down to set the Pagan people free, Then let Argantes for himself take care, This sword, I trust, shall well safe-conduct 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."

XIV 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 those news To Godfrey's self, and to the western lords, And in their hearings boldly say these words:

XV "Say that a knight, who holds in great disdain To be thus closed up in secret new, 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 pride's hateful vice, Desire of rule, and spoil, and covetice.

XVI "And that to fight I am not only prest With one or two that dare defend the cause, But come the fourth or fifth, 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.

XVII 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 mayest," he answered, "we approve the same; Withouten fear, be thine ambassage told." "Then," quoth the herald, "shall your highness see, If this ambassage sharp or pleasing be."

XVIII 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 spake, and said, "The man hath chose An hard exploit, but when he feels our swords, I trust we shall so far entreat the knight, As to excuse the fourth or fifth of fight.

XIX "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 aught, nor once forslowed his pace, Till he bespake Argantes face to face.

XX "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 armor cried.

XXI While he was armed, his heart for ire nigh brake, So yearned his courage hot his foes to find: The King to fair Clorinda present spake; "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."