LXXII To Tisipherne 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 e'er compare thee with the Prince of Ind."

LXXIII 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:

LXXIV "Will you thus rob me of that gift," quoth she, "Which each hath vowed to give by 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 love's yoke."

LXXV All this heard Vafrine as he stood beside, And having learned the truth, he left the tent, That treason was against the Christian's guide Contrived, he wist, yet wist not how it went, By words and questions far off, he tried To find the truth; more difficult, more bent Was he to know it, and resolved to die, Or of that secret close the intent to spy.

LXXVI 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 practice hid: But chance, what wisdom could not tell, bewrays, Fortune of all his doubt the knots undid, So that prepared for Godfrey's last mishap At ease he found the net, and spied the trap.

LXXVII 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 lass, And with some courtly terms the wench he boards, He feigns acquaintance, and as bold appears As he had known that virgin twenty years.

LXXVIII He said, "Would some sweet lady grace me so, To chose me for her champion, friend and knight, Proud Godfrey's or Rinaldo's head, I trow, Should feel the sharpness of my curtlax bright; Ask me the head, fair mistress, of some foe, For to your beauty wooed is my might;" So he began, and meant in speeches wise Further to wade, but thus he broke the ice.

LXXIX Therewith he smiled, and smiling gan to frame His looks so to their old and native grace, That towards him another virgin came, Heard 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."

LXXX Withdrawn, she thus began, "Vafrine, pardie, I know thee well, and me thou knowest of old," To his last trump this drove the subtle spy, But smiling towards her he turned him bold, "Ne'er 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.

LXXXI "My mother bore me near Bisertus 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 betray thee let me die therefore, I am Erminia, daughter to a prince, But Tancred's slave, thy fellow-servant since;

LXXXII "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.

LXXXIII "But yet I pray thee, when thou dost return, To my dear prison lead me home again; For in this hateful freedom even 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 these secrets plain, For I their treasons false, false trains can say, Which few beside can tell, none will betray."

LXXXIV On her he gazed, and silent stood this while, Armida's 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 here, And further speech till fitter time forbear."

LXXXV 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 unmarked she find, then forth she gets, Thither where Vafrine her unseen abode, There took she horse, and from the camp they rode.

LXXXVI And now in deserts waste and wild arrived, Far from the camp, far from resort and sight, Vafrine began, "Gainst Godfrey's 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:

LXXXVII "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 Godfrey's guard that gold and white do wear, Such shall their habit be, and such their gear:

LXXXVIII "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 keep near, and pierce Godfredo's 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.

LXXXIX "And for their chieftain wist 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 naught they vary; But these unjust commands my thoughts despise, 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.

XC "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 would'st thou hide Those causes true, from me thy squire and guide?"

XCI 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 you fires to quench, sweet Cupid's flame? No, no, such cares, and such respects beseem Great ladies, wandering maids them naught esteem.

XCII "That night fatal to me and Antioch town, Then made a prey 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, Ne'er to be found again, for then I lost My wit, my sense, my heart, my soul almost.

XCIII "Through fire and sword, through blood and death, Vafrine, Which all my friends did burn, did kill, did chase, Thou know'st I ran to thy dear lord and mine, When first he entered had my father's place, And kneeling with salt ears in my swollen eyne; 'Great prince,' quoth I, 'grant mercy, pity, grace, Save not my kingdom, not my life I said, But save mine honor, let me die a maid.'

XCIV "He lift me by the trembling hand from ground, Nor stayed 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 voice's sound Pierced my heart, my breast's weak fortress won, Which creeping through my bosom soft became A wound, a sickness, and a quenchless flame.

XCV "He visits me, with speeches kind and grave He sought to ease my grief, and sorrows' smart. He said, 'I give thee liberty, receive All that is thine, and at thy will depart:' 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.

XCVI "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 could'st guess What fever held me, saidst, 'Thou art in love;' But I denied, for what can maids do less? And yet my sighs thy sayings true did prove, Instead of speech, my looks, my tears, mine eyes, Told in what flame, what fire thy mistress fries.

XCVII "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 love's sweet flame Plucked off the bridle of respect and shame,

XCVIII "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 mischanced to light Of cruel men, in armour clothed round, Hardly I scaped their hand 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.

XCIX "But when hot love which fear had late suppressed, Revived again, there nould I longer sit, But rode the way I came, nor e'er 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,

C "And for a present to their captain gave, Whom I entreated and besought so well, That he mine honor 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.

CI "And he that did this chain so surely bind About my heart, which none can loose 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 wonted prison set me free:" Thus spake the princess, thus she and her guide Talked day and night, and on their journey ride.

CII Through the highways 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 besmeared he found the grass, And saw where lay a warrior murdered new, That all be-bled the ground, his face to skies He turns, and seems to threat, though dead he lies:

CIII His harness and his habit both betrayed 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 Tancredi slain!"

CIV The woful 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 stumbled from her steed:

CV Her springs of tears she 1ooseth forth, and cries, "Hither why bring'st thou me, ah, Fortune blind? Where dead, for whom I lived, my comfort lies, Where war for peace, travail 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.

CVI "I never thought that to mine eyes, my dear, Thou couldst have grievous or unpleasant been; But now would blind or rather dead I were, 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 red, And forehead's whiteness? are all gone, all dead?

CVII "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 love's 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;

CVIII "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, Oh, let me kiss thee first, then let me die!

CIX "Receive my yielding 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 poured 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.

CX The dame perceived that Tancred breathed and sighed, Which calmed her grief 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 woful 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."

CXI 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 armor off, and she each vein, 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.

CXII From weariness and loss of blood she spied His greatest pains and anguish most proceed, Naught but her veil 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!

CXIII For why her veil was short and thin, those deep And cruel hurts to fasten, roll and blind, 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.

CXIV He said, "O Vafrine, tell me, whence com'st thou? And who this gentle surgeon is, disclose;" She smiled, she sighed, she looked she wist not how, She wept, rejoiced, 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.

CXV 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 Tancredi's band, With him when he and Argant met they were; But when they went to combat hand for hand, He bade them stay behind, and they obeyed, But came to seek him now, so long he stayed.

CXVI Besides them, many followed that enquest, 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 prey? Ah no, defraud not you that champion brave Of his just praise, of his due tomb and grave:

CXVII "With his dead bones no longer war have I, Boldly he died and nobly was he slain, Then let us not that honor 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.

CXVIII "Not home," quoth Tancred, "to my wonted tent, But bear me to this royal town, I pray, That if cut short by human accident I die, there I may see my latest day, The place where Christ upon his cross was rent To heaven perchance may easier make the way, And ere I yield to Death's and Fortune's rage, Performed shall be my vow and pilgrimage."

CXIX Thus to the city was Tancredi 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 beforn, And entrance found, for till his news were known, Naught was concluded mongst those knights and lords, Their counsel hung on his report and words.

CXX Where weak and weary wounded Raymond laid, Godfrey was set upon his couch's side, And round about the man a ring was made Of lords and knights that filled the chamber wide; There while the squire his late discovery 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;

CXXI "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 high, I saw what way soe'er 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.

CXXII "But yet amongst them many bands are found Both horse and foot, of little force and might, That keep no order, know no trumpet's 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 King's own troop which all is framed Of soldiers old, the Immortal Squadron named.

CXXIII "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.

CXXIV "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.

CXXV "The chief of these that have thy murder sworn, Is Altamore, the king of Samarcand! 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."

CXXVI This said, from young Rinaldo's 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."

CXXVII 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, Ormondo's 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 awhile, when Godfrey thus, — "Raymondo, say, what counsel givest thou us?"

CXXVIII "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.

CXXIX "But lest you be endangered, hurt, or slain, Of all your cares take care yourself to save, By you this camp doth live, doth win, doth reign, 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."

CXXX "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.

CXXXI "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.



TWENTIETH BOOK

THE ARGUMENT. The Pagan host arrives, and cruel fight Makes with the Christians and their faithful power; The Soldan 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; Rinald appeased Armida; first the field The Christians win, then praise to God they yield.

I The sun called up the world from idle sleep, And of the day ten hours were gone and past 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 the Egyptian camp at last Which raised the dust, for hills and valleys broad That host did overspread and overload.

II Therewith a merry shout and joyful cry The Pagans reared from their besieged hold; The cranes from Thrace with such a rumor fly, His hoary frost and snow when Hyems old Pours 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 made.

III 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, Swelled their breasts with valor's 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

IV 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 day's rest at least you take," For thus in his vain foes he cherish would The hope which in their strength they have and hold.

V To see Aurora's gentle beam appear, The soldiers armed, prest 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 sun's golden ray, And without cloud heaven his redoubled light Bent down to see this field, this fray, this fight.

VI When first he saw the daybreak show and shine, Godfrey his host in good array brought out, And to besiege the tyrant Aladine Raymond he left, and all the faithful rout That from the towns was come of Palestine To serve and succor their deliverer stout, And with them left a hardy troop beside Of Gascoigns strong, in arms well proved, oft tried.

VII Such was Godfredo's countenance, such his cheer, That from his eye sure conquest flames and streams, Heaven's gracious favors in his looks appear, And great and goodly more than erst he seems; His face and forehead full of noblesse were, And on his cheek smiled youth's purple beams, And in his gait, his grace, his acts, his eyes, Somewhat, far more than mortal, lives and lies.

VIII 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 by, Broad in the front behind more strait uptied 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.

IX 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 dangerous, broad and wide, And where his foes with their great numbers would Perchance environ round his squadrons bold. X There all his Lorrainers 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; The 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.

XI 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 invade, 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."

XII Then through his host, that took so large a scope, He rode, and viewed them all, both horse and foot; His face was bare, his helm unclosed and ope, 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.

XIII At last he stayed where of 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 mountain 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.

XIV "My hardy host, you conquerors 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 Saracens most and least Our gracious Lord hath gathered here in one, For all your foes and his assembled are, That one day's fight may end seven years of war.

XV "This fight shall bring us many victories, The danger none, the labor 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.

XVI "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 swords are blunt, shields thin, soon pierced through, Their banners shake, their bearers shrink, for ill Their leaders heard, obeyed, or followed be, Their loss, their flight, their death I will foresee.

XVII "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 valors 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.

XVIII "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.

XIX "I ask an easy and a usual thing, As you have oft, this day, so win the field, Let zeal and honor be your virtue's 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."

XX Upon the captain, when his speech was done, It seemed a lamp and golden light down came, As from night's azure mantle oft doth run Or fall, a sliding star, or shining flame; But from the bosom of the burning sun Proceeded this, and garland-wise the same Godfredo's noble head encompassed round, And, as some thought, foreshowed he should be crowned.

XXI 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 hid 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;

XXII 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 proud, And in that battle fair Armida stood.

XXIII On the right quarter stood the Indian grim, With Tisipherne and all the king's own band; But when the left wing spread her squadrons trim O'er the large plain, did Altamoro stand, With African and Persian kings with him, And two that came from Meroe's hot sand, And all his crossbows and his slings he placed, Where room best served to shoot, to throw, to cast.

XXIV Thus Emiren his host put in array, And rode 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 hundred fight? Our cry, our shade, will put them all to flight."

XXV But to the bold, "Go, hardy knight," he says, "His prey out of this lion's 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.

XXVI "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 fathers dear and parents grave Show their uncovered heads, white, hoary, old, To thee thy wife — her breasts with tears o'erspread — Thy sons, their cradles, shows, thy marriage bed."

XXVII To all the rest, "You for her honor'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 spake, And all his sundry nations to sharp fight Encouraged, but now the dukes had done Their speeches all, the hosts together run.

XXVIII It was a great, a strange and wondrous sight, When front to front those noble armies met, How every troop, how in each troop each knight Stood prest to move, to fight, and praise to get, Loose in the wind waved their ensigns light, Trembled the plumes that on their crests were set; Their arms, impresses, colors, gold and stone, Against the sunbeams smiled, flamed, sparkled, shone.

XXIX 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 cobbles round: Each steed to run was ready, prest and quick, At his commander's spur, his hand, his sound, He chafes, he stamps, careers, and turns about, He foams, snorts, neighs, and fire and smoke breathes out.

XXX Horror itself in that fair fight 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 rare In that strange noise, more warlike, shrill and clear, In notes more sweet, the Pagan trumpets jar, These sung, their armors shined, these glistered far.

XXXI 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 up leapt 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.

XXXII 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 breastbone thou clov'st and rent in twain, So Heaven with honor would thee bless and crown, Pierced through he fell, and falling hard withal His foe praised for her strength and for his fall.

XXXIII Her lance 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 laid; And then Alarco's head she swept off clean, Which like a football tumbled on the green.

XXXIV A blow felled Artaxerxes, with a thrust Was Argeus slain, the first lay in a trance, Ismael's left hand cut off fell in the dust, For on his wrist her sword fell down by chance: The hand let go the bridle where it lust, The blow upon the courser's ears did glance, Who felt the reins at large. and with the stroke Half mad, the ranks disordered, troubled, broke.

XXXV All these, and many mo, 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.

XXXVI The noble lovers use well might you see, A wondrous guise, till then unseen, unheard, To save themselves forgot both he and she, Each other's 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 bent on his dear, Which, if need be, his naked head should bear.

XXXVII So each saved other, each for other's wrong Would vengeance take, but not revenge their own: The valiant Soldan Artabano strong Of Boecan Isle, by her was overthrown, And by his hand, the bodies dead among, Alvante, that durst his mistress wound, fell down, And she between the eyes hit Arimont, Who hurt her lord, and cleft in twain his front.

XXXVIII But Altamore who had that wing to lead Far greater slaughter on the Christians made; For where he turned his sword, or twined his steed, He slew, or man and beast on earth down laid, Happy was he that was at first struck dead, That fell not down on live, for whom his blade Had speared, the same cast in the dusty street His horse tore with his teeth, bruised with his feet.

XXXIX By this brave Persian's valor, killed and slain Were strong Brunello and Ardonia great; The first his head and helm had cleft in twain, The last in stranger-wise he did intreat, For through his heart he pierced, and his seat, Where laughter hath his fountain and his seat, So that, a dreadful thing, believed uneath, He laughed for pain, and laughed himself to death.

XL 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?

XLI 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 Thermodont was never Amazone, Who 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.

XLII She hit him, where with gold and rich anmail, His diadem did on his helmet flame, She broke and cleft the crown, and caused him veil 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.

XLIII 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 strook the dame no more: A lion so stalks by, and with proud eyes Beholds, but scorns to hurt a man that lies.

XLIV This while Ormondo false, whose cruel hand Was armed and prest to give the trait'rous blow, With all his fellows mongst Godfredo's 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.

XLV He proached nigh, and to Godfredo's side The bloody Pagan now was placed near: But when his colors gold and white he spied, And saw the other signs that forged were, "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;

LXVI Deadly he wounded him, and that false knight Nor strikes nor wards nor striveth to be gone; But, as Medusa's head were 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.

LXVII 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, cleft and brast; Before the knight the troops and squadrons fled, As Afric dust before the southern blast; The Duke recalled them, in array them placed, Stayed those that fled, and him assailed that chased.

LXVIII The champions strong there fought a battle stout, Troy never saw the like by Xanthus old: A conflict sharp there was meanwhile on foot Twixt Baldwin 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 proud;

XLIX 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 dust run, But where the press was thickest thither flew The knight, and at each stroke felled, hurt, or slew. L 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 cloven and shattered were; Of swords, some to the body nail the shield, Some cut men's throats, and some their bellies tear; Of bodies, some upright, some grovelling lay, And for themselves eat graves out of the clay.

LI Beside his lord slain lay the noble steed, 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 eachwhere spread, Whence neither silence, nor plain outcries flew: There fury roars, ire threats, and woe complains, One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains.

LII The arms that late so fair and glorious seem, Now soiled and slubbered, sad and sullen grow, The steel his brightness lost, the gold his beam; The colors had no pride nor beauty's show; The plumes and feathers on their crests that stream, Are strowed wide upon the earth below: The hosts both clad in blood, in dust and mire, Had changed their cheer, their pride, their rich attire.

LIII But now the Moors, Arabians, Ethiops black, Of the left wing that held the utmost marge, Spread forth their troops, and purposed at the back And side their heedless foes to 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.

LIV The first he met was Asimire, his throne That set in Meroe's hot sunburnt 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 fand, Whole squadrons then, whole troops to earth he brought, Things wondrous, strange, incredible he wrought.

LV 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 trows 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.

LVI The Afric tyrants and the negro kings Fell down on heaps, drowned each in other's blood, Upon their people ran the knights he brings, Pricked forward by their guide's example 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.

LVII 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 were. That done, he stays, and all his knights recalls, And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls.

LVIII 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 temperate, 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;

LIX 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 succored That battle, all were run away or slain, Upon their flank with force and courage stout His men at arms assailed the bands on foot:

LX He brake their pikes, and brake their close array, Entered their battle, felled them down around, So wind or tempest with impetuous sway The ears of ripened corn strikes flat to ground: With blood, arms, bodies dead, the hardened clay Plastered the earth, no grass nor green was found; The horsemen running through and through their bands, Kill, murder, slay, few scape, not one withstands.

LXI Rinaldo came where his forlorn Armide Sate 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 somedeal his look and countenance bold, She changed from frost to fire, from heat to cold.

LXII 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.

LXIII Love bridled fury, and revived of new His fire, not dead, though buried in displeasure, Three times her angry hand the bow updrew, And thrice again let slack the string at leisure; But wrath prevailed at last, the reed outflew, For love finds mean, but hatred knows no measure, Outflew the shaft, but with the shaft, this charm, This wish she sent: Heaven grant it do no harm:

LXIV 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 straight repent, Wrath, fury, kindness, in her bosom strove, She would, she would not, that it missed or hit, Her eyes, her heart, her wishes followed it.

LXV But yet in vain the quarrel lighted not, For on his hauberk hard the knight it hit, Too hard for woman's shaft or woman's shot, Instead of piercing, there it broke and split; He turned away, she burnt 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.

LXVI "And is he then unpierceable," 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 rigor doth his person guard, Armed, or disarmed; his foe or mistress kind Despised alike, like hate, like scorn I find.

LXVII "But what new form is left, device 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.

LXVIII Nor left alone can she her person save, But to be slain or taken stands in fear, Though with a 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.

LXIX 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 honor and his host: If she were safe, let all the world be lost.

LXX To the ill-guarded 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 succor, for his folk were slain.

LXXI And on that side the woful prince beheld The battle lost, no help nor hope remained; But on the other wing the Christians yield, And fly, such vantage there the 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.

LXXII 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.

LXXIII Between the armies twain while thus the fight Waxed sharp, hot, cruel, though renewed but late, The Soldan clomb up to the tower's height, And saw far off their strife and fell debate, As from some stage or theatre the knight Saw played the tragedy of human state, Saw death, blood, murder, woe and horror strange, And the great acts of fortune, chance, and change.

LXXIV At first astonished and amazed he stood Then burnt with wrath, and self-consuming ire, Swelled 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."

LXXV 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 blessed; Or that he breaking felt the fatal line Of life, and would meet death with constant breast, Furious and fierce he did the gates unbar, And sudden rage brought forth, and sudden war.

LXXVI Nor stayed he till the folk on whom he cried Assemble might, but out alone he flies, A thousand foes the man alone defied, And ran 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 care, This was not hope, nor courage, but despair.

LXXVII 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 passed The fear and terror, that the faithful train Of Syrian folk, not used to dangerous fight, Were broken, scattered, and nigh put to flight.

LXXVIII But with less terror, and disorder less, The Gascoigns kept array, and kept their ground, Though most the loss and peril them oppress, Unwares assailed they were, unready found. No ravening 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.

LXXIX It seemed his thirst and hunger 'suage he would With their slain bodies, and their blood poured out, With him his troops and Aladino old Slew their besiegers, killed the Gascoign rout: But Raymond ran to meet the Soldan 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.

LXXX They met, and Raymond 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 Soldan, for the man he thought Was slain, or easily might be captive brought.

LXXXI 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 hastes, to a rich feast ybrought; So from this skirmish to the battle great He ran, and quenched with blood his fury's heat.

LXXXII 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 loth to lose The day, the Christians fight, resist and die, And ready were to yield, retire and fly.

LXXXIII The Gascoign 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 1ooked forth to see the fray, Though every limb were weak, faint, void of might; He saw the country lie, his men o'erthrown, Some beaten back, some killed, some felled down.

LXXXIV Courage in noble hearts that ne'er is spent, Yet fainted not, though faint were every limb, But reinforced each member cleft and rent, 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 curtlax trim His right hand drew, nor for more arms he stood Or stayed, he needs no more whose heart is good:

LXXXV But coming forth, cried, "Whither will you run, And leave your leader to his foes in prey? What! shall these heathen of his armor won, In their vile temples hang up trophies gay? Go home to Gascoign 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, oppose.

LXXXVI 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 Raymond 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.

LXXXVII Thus saved, thus shielded, Raymond '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.

LXXXVIII The Gascoigns turn again, their lord in haste To venge their loss his hand recorded 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 chased; So in one hour altereth the state of things, Raymond requites his loss, shame, hurt and all, And with an hundred deaths revenged one fall.

LXXXIX Whilst Raymond wreaked thus his just disdain On the proud-heads of captains, lords and peers, He spies great Sion's 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 bit, That now keeps him, because he kept not it.

XC Their guides, one murdered thus, the other gone, The troops divided were, in diverse 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 flyers in the victors pass, And so the fortress won and conquered was.

XCI The hold was won, slain were the men that fled, In courts, halls, chambers high; above, below, Old Raymond 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 Solyman saw not the town was lost, For far from thence he was. and near the host;

XCII 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 build; An armed steed fast by the Soldan yood, That had no guide, nor lord the reins to wield, The tyrant took the bridle, and bestrode The courser's empty back, and forth he rode.

XCIII 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 unstayed Eternal signs in hardest rocks hath wrought, For by his hand a hundred knights were slain, But time forgot hath all their names but twain;

XCIV Gildippes fair, and Edward thy dear lord, Your noble death, sad end, and woful 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.

XCV The noble lady thither boldly flew, Where first the Soldan fought, and him defied, Two mighty blows she gave the Turk untrue, One cleft 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 were Thy neeld and spindle, not a sword and spear."

XCVI This said, full of disdain, rage and despite, A strong, a fierce, a deadly stroke he gave, And pierced her armor, 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 strave, Her lord to help her came, but came too late, Yet was not that his fault, it was his fate.

XCVII What should he do? to diverse parts him call Just ire and pity kind, one bids him go And succor 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.

XCVIII But to resist against a knight so bold Too weak his will and power divided were; 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.

XCIX As the high elm, whom his dear vine hath twined 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 naught 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:

C So fell he mourning, mourning for the dame Whom life and death had made forever his; They would have spoke, but not one word could frame, Deep sobs their speech, sweet sighs their language is, Each gazed on other's 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.

CI But now swift fame her nimble wings dispread, And told eachwhere 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, good-will, 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.

CII The giant cried, "By sundry signs I note That whom I wish, I search, thou, thou art he, I marked each worthy's shield, his helm, his coat, 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 Armida's foe, her champion I."

CIII Thus he defied him, on his front before, And on his throat he struck him, yet the blow His helmet neither bruised, cleft 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.

CIV With horror, fear, amazedness and dread, Cold were the hearts of all that saw the fray, And Solyman, that viewed that noble deed, Trembled, his paleness did his fear bewray; For in that stroke he did his end areed, He wist not what to think, to do, to say, A thing in him unused, rare and strange, But so doth heaven men's hearts turn, alter, change.

CV As when the sick or frantic men oft dream In their unquiet sleep and slumber short, And think they run some speedy course, and seem 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:

CVI So run to fight the angry Soldan 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 hundred passions fought, Yet none on fear or base retire he thought.

CVII While unresolved he stood, the victor knight Arrived, and seemed in quickness, haste and speed, In boldness, greatness, goodliness and might, Above all princes born of human seed: The Turk small while resists, not death nor fight Made him forget his state or race, through dreed, He fled no strokes, he fetched no groan nor sigh, Bold were his motions last, proud, stately, high.

CVIII Now when the Soldan, in these battles past That Antheus-like oft fell oft rose again, Evermore fierce, more fell, fell down at last To lie forever, 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 Godfrey's knights, With them she serves, she runs, she rides, she fights.

CIX The Pagan troops, the king's 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 king's great banner, and his standard brave?

CX "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 runn'st thyself from fight? What seek'st 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 honor, way to safety is."

CXI 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 dwelt in his breast, But Tisiphernes bold revived him most, Who fought and seemed to win, when all was lost;

CXII 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 etern His life's short date prolonged, enlarged and drew, And then, as he that set sweet life at nought, The greatest peril, danger, most he sought.

CXIII 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."

CXIV Thus prayed he, but all his vows were vain, Mahound 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 steed and gave the charge.

CXV The Christian saw the hardy warrior come, And leaped 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.

CXVI One struck, the other did both strike and wound, His arms were surer, and his strength was more; From Tisipheme the blood streamed down around; His shield was deft, his helm was rent and tore. The dame, that saw his blood besmear the ground, His armor 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:

CXVII 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 sate, She leaped 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.

CXVIII 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 honor go, Followed her flying sails and lost the day: So Tisipherne the fair and fearful dame Would follow, but his foe forbids the same.

CXIX But when the Pagan's 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 struck the knight: When thunders forged are in Typhoius' bed, Not Brontes' hammer falls so swift, so right; The furious stroke fell on Rinaldo's crest, And made him bend his head down to his breast.

CXX The champion in his stirrups high upstart, And cleft his hauberk hard and tender side, And sheathed his weapon in the Pagan's 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.

CXXI 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 then and calm he found, There all his wrath, his rage, and rancor ends, He called to mind how, far from help or aid, Armida fled, alone, amazed, afraid:

CXXII Well saw he when she fled, and with that sight The prince had pity, 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 rode aright, Her palfrey's feet signs in the grass outware: But she this while found out an ugly shade, Fit place for death, where naught could life persuade.

CXXIII Well pleased was she with those shadows brown, And yet displeased with luck, with life, with love; There from her steed 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!

CXXIV 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 then pierce a woman's bosom thin? See, see, my naked heart, on this alone Employ your force this fort is eath to win, And love will shoot you from his mighty bow, Weak is the shot that dripile falls in snow.

CXXV "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 arrow's stroke cure stroke of love, Death for thy heart must salve and surgeon prove.

CXXVI "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 forever 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."

CXXVII And with that word half mad, half dead, she seems, 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 prest to quench her own and beauty's 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.

CXXVIII She turns and, ere she knows, her lord she spies, Whose coming was unwished, unthought, unknown, She shrieks, and twines away her sdainful 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 unlaced;

CXXIX And her fair face, fair bosom he bedews With tears, tears of remorse, of ruth, of sorrow. As the pale rose her color 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."

CXXX 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 hold he got not yet resigned, Herself fast bound in those dear knots she fand, 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.

CXXXI "Cruel at thy departure, at return As cruel, say, what chance thee hither guideth, Would'st thou prevent her death whose heart forlorn For thee, for thee death's strokes each hour divideth? Com'st 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.

CXXXII "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.

CXXXIII "Cruel, myself an hundred 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 flatteries, leave weak hope to move, Cease, cease, my hope is dead, dead is my love."

CXXXIV 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.

CXXXV "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 sire 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 veil unfold Of Paganism, in all the east no dame Should equalize thy fortune, state and fame."

CXXXVI 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, Snowdrifts 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 tensure.

CXXXVII This while the captain of the Egyptian host, — That saw his royal standard laid on ground, Saw Rimedon, that ensign's prop and post, By Godfrey's noble hand killed with one wound, And all his folk discomfit, slain and lost, No coward was in this last battle found, But rode about and sought, nor sought in vain, Some famous hand of which he might be slain;

CXXXVIII Against Lord Godfrey boldly out he flew, For nobler foe he wished not, could not spy, Of desperate courage showed he tokens true, Where'er he joined, or stayed, or passed by, 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 castle's ruins shall break down thy wall."

CXXXIX This said, forth spurred they both, both high advance Their swords aloft, both struck 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, Godfredo's sword Pierced him through, so died that army's lord.

CXL Of his great host, when Emiren was dead, Fled the small remnant that alive remained; Godfrey espied as he turned his steed, Great Altamore on foot, with blood all stained, With half a sword, half helm upon his head, Gainst whom a hundred fought, yet not one gained. "Cease, cease this strife," he cried: "and thou, brave knight, Yield, I am Godfrey, yield thee to my might!"

CXLI He that till then 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:

CXLII "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 Inde Enjoy it still, therein I take no pleasure; I set no rent on life, no price on blood, I fight, and sell not war for gold or good."

CXLIII This said, he gave him to his knights to keep And after those that fled his course he bent; They to their rampiers fled and trenches deep, Yet could not so death's 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 prey, Shields, helmets, armors, plumes and feathers gay.

CXLIV Thus conquered Godfrey, and as yet the sun 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 coat 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.

THE END