K 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Sara Bard Field Wood 
 
GODFREY OF BULLOIGNE; 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 DONE INTO ENGLISH HEROICAL VERSE, 
 
 FROM THE ITALIAN OF TASSO, 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWARD FAIRFAX. 
 
 THE FIFTH EDITION, 
 
 Reprinted from the Original Folio of 1600. 
 
 10 WHICH ARE PREFIXED, 
 
 A GLOSSARY, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE LIVES OF TASSO AND FAIRFAX, 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR EDWARDS AND KNIBB, 
 
 53, NEWGATE STREET. 
 
 1818. 
 
GIFT 
 

 Hecoberp of Jerusalem. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Ismenfrom sleep awakes the Soldan great, 7 
 
 And into Sion brings the Prince by night, 15 
 
 Where the sad King sits fearful on his seat, 32 
 
 Whom he embold'neth and excites to fight. 50 
 
 Godfredo hears his Lords and Knights repeat 58 
 How they escaped Armida's wrath and spite : 
 
 Rinaldo known to lire, Peter foresays 
 
 His offspring's virtue, good deserts, and praise. 73 
 
 A GALLANT steed (while thus the Soldan said) 
 Came trotting by him, without lord or guide, 
 
 Quickly his hand upon the reins he laid, 
 And, weak and weary, climbed up to ride. 
 
 The snake (that on his crest hot fire outbray'd), 
 Was quite cut off, his helm had lost its pride, 
 
 His coat was rent, his harness hack'd and cleft, 
 
 And of his kingly pomp no sign was left. 
 
 n. 
 
 As when a savage wolf, chas'd from the fold, 
 To hide his head runs to some holt or wood, 
 
 Who (though he filled hath while it might hold 
 His greedy paunch) yet hung'reth after food, 
 
 With sanguine tongue forth of his lips out rolPd, 
 About his jaws that licks up foam and blood ; 
 
 So from this bloody fray the Soldan hied, 
 
 His rage unquench'd, his wrath unsatisfied. 
 
 VOL. II. M 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 And (as his fortune would) he 'scaped free 
 From thousand arrows which about him flew, 
 
 From swords and lances, instruments that be 
 Of certain death, himself he safe withdrew ; 
 
 Unknown, unseen, disguised, travelled he 
 By desert paths and ways but us'd by few, 
 
 And rode, revolving in his troubled thought 
 
 What course to take, and jet resolv'd on nought. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thither at last he meant to talte his way 
 Where Egypt's king assembled all his host, 
 
 To join with him, and once again assay 
 To win by fight, by which so oft he Jost : 
 
 Determin'd thus, he made no longer stay, 
 
 But thitherward spurrd forth his steed in post; 
 
 Nor need he guide, the way right well he could 
 
 That leads to sandy plains of Gaza old. 
 
 v. 
 
 Nor though his smarting wounds torment him oft, 
 His body weak and wounded back and side, 
 
 Not rested he, nor once his armour doft, 
 
 But all day long o'er hills and dales doth ride: 
 
 But when the night cast up her shade aloft, 
 And all earth's colours strange in sable dy'd, 
 
 He light, and as he could his wounds upbound, 
 
 And shook ripe dates down from a palm he found. 
 
 VI. 
 
 On them he supped, and amid the field 
 To rest his weary limbs awhile he sought; 
 
 He made his pillow of his broken shield, 
 
 To ease the griefs of his distemper' d thought ; 
 
 But little ease could so hard lodging yield, 
 
 His wounds so smarted that he slept right nought, 
 
 And in his breast his proud heart rent in twaiu 
 
 Two inward vultures, sorrow and disdain. 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 At length when midnight with her silence deep 
 Did heav'n and earth hush'd, still, and quiet make, 
 
 Sore watch'd and weary, he began to steep 
 His cares and sorrows in oblivion's lake, 
 
 And in a little, short, unquiet sleep, 
 
 Some small repose his fainting spirits take ; 
 
 But (while he slept) a voice, grave and severe, 
 
 At unawares thus thuuder'd in his ear : 
 
 O Soliman ! thou far-renowned king, 
 
 Till better season serve, forbear thy rest ; 
 
 A stranger doth thy lands in thraldom bring ; 
 Nice is a slave, by Christian yoke oppress'd; 
 
 Sleepest thou here, forgetful of this thing, 
 
 That here thy friends lie slain, not laid in chest, 
 
 Whose bones bear witness of thy shame and scorn, 
 
 And wilt thou idly here attend the morn ? 
 
 IX. 
 
 The king awak'd, and saw before his eyes 
 
 A mari whose presence seemed grave and old, 
 
 A writhen staff his steps unstable guides, 
 
 Which serv'd his feeble members to uphold. 
 
 And what art thou ? (the Prince in scorn replies) 
 What sprite to vex poor passengers so bold, 
 
 To break their sleep ; or what to thee belongs 
 
 My shame, my loss, my vengeance, or my wrongs? 
 
 1 am the man, of thine intent (quoth he) 
 And purpose new that sure conjecture hath, 
 
 And better than thou weenest know I thee; 
 I proffer thee my service and my faith ; 
 
 ]VJy speeches therefore sharp and biting be, 
 
 Because quick words the whetstones are of wrath ; 
 
 Accept in gree, my Lord, the words I spoke, 
 
 As spurs thine ire and courage to provoke. 
 B 2 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 But now to visit Egypt's mighty king, 
 
 Unless ray judgment fail, you are prepar'd ; 
 
 I prophesy, about a needless thing, 
 
 You suffer shall a voyage long and hard : 
 
 For though you stay, the monarch great will bring 
 His new assembled force to Judah ward ; 
 
 No place of service there, no cause of fight, 
 
 Nor 'gainst our foes to use your force and might: 
 
 XII. 
 
 But, if you follow me, within this wall, 
 
 (With Christian arms hemm'd in on every side,) 
 
 Withouten battaile, fight, or stroke at all, 
 Ev'u at noon day I will you safely guide, 
 
 Where you delight, rejoice, and glory shall, 
 In perils great to see your prowess tried. 
 
 Th;it noble town you may preserve and shield, 
 
 'Till Egypt's host come to renew the field. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 While thus he parlied, of this aged guest 
 
 The Turk the words and looks did both admire, 
 
 And from his haughty eyes and furious breast 
 He laid apart his pride, his rage, and ire ; 
 
 And humbly saidI willing am and prest 
 To follow where thou leadest, reverend sire ; 
 
 And that advice best fits my angry vein, 
 
 That tells of greatest peril, greatest pain. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The old man prais'd his words ; and for the air 
 His late received wounds to worse disposes, 
 
 A quintessence therein he poured fair, 
 
 That stops the bleeding, and incision closes: 
 
 Beholding then before Apollo's chair 
 
 How fresh Aurora violets strew'd and roses, 
 
 It's time (he says) to wend, for Titan bright 
 
 To wonted labour summons every wight. 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 5 
 
 XV. 
 
 And to a chariot (that beside did stand) 
 
 Ascended he, and with him Soliraan : 
 He took the reins, and with a mastering hand 
 
 Ruled his steeds, and whip'd them now and then : 
 The wheels or horses' feet upon the land 
 
 Had left no sign or token where they ran ; 
 The coursers pant and smoke with lukewarm sweat, 
 And, foaming cream, their iron mouthfuls eat ; 
 
 XTI. 
 
 The air about them round (a wond'rous thing !) 
 Itself on heaps in solid thickness drew, 
 
 The chariot hiding and environing ; 
 
 The subtile mist no mortal eye could view, 
 
 And yet no stone from engine cast or sling 
 
 Could pierce the cloud, it was of proof so true ; 
 
 Yet seen it was to them within which ride, 
 
 And heav'n and earth without all clear beside. 
 
 His beetle brows the Turk amazed bent, 
 He wrinkled up his front, and wildly star'd 
 
 Upon the cloud and chariot as it went, 
 
 For speed to Cinthia's car right well compared ; 
 
 The other seeing his astonishment, 
 
 How he bewonder'd was, and how he far'd, 
 
 All suddenly by name the Prince 'gan call, 
 
 By which awaked, thus he spoke withal : 
 
 XVJIT. 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, above all worldly wit, [wrought, 
 That hast these high and wond'rous marvails 
 
 And know'st the deep intents which hidden sit 
 In secret closet of man's private thought, 
 
 If in thy skilful heart this lore be writ, 
 
 To tell th' event of things to end unbrought, 
 
 Then say what issue and what end the stars 
 
 Allot to Asia's troubles, broils, and wars .? 
 
6 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But tell me first thy name, and by what art 
 
 Thou dost these wonders strange, above our skill 5 
 
 For full of marvel is my troubled heart, 
 Tell then, and leave me not amazed still. 
 
 The wizard smil'd and answer'd : In some part 
 Easy it is to satisfy thy will ; 
 
 Ismen I night, calPd an enchanter great, 
 
 Such skill have I in magic's secret feat : 
 
 xx. 
 
 But that I should the sure events unfold 
 Of things to come, or destinies foretell, 
 
 Too rash is your desire, your wish too bold, 
 To mortal heart such knowledge never fell : 
 
 Our wit and strength on us bestow'd, I hold, 
 
 To shun th' evils and harms 'mongst which we dwell ; 
 
 They make their fortune who are stout and wise, 
 
 Wit rules the heav'ns, discretion guides the skies. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 That puissant arm of thine, that well can rend 
 From Godfrey's brow the new usurped crown, 
 
 And not alone protect, save and defend 
 From his tierce people this besieged town, 
 
 'Gainst fire and sword with strength and courage bend, 
 Adventure, suffer, trust, tread perils down ; 
 
 And to content and to encourage thee, 
 
 Know this, which I as in a cloud foresee : 
 
 XXII. 
 
 I guess (before the over-gliding sun 
 
 Shall many years mete out by weeks and days) 
 
 A prince (that shall in fertile Egypt wonne) 
 Shall fill all Asia with his prosp'rous frays; 
 
 I speak not of his acts in quiet done, 
 His policy, his rule, his wisdom's praise; 
 
 Let this suffice, by him these Christians shall 
 
 In fight subdued fly, and conquered fall ; 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 7 
 
 XXIII. 
 And their great empire and usurped state 
 
 Shall overthrown in dust and ashes He; 
 Their woeful remnant in an angle strait, 
 
 Compass' d with sea, themselves shall fortify. 
 From thee shall spring this lord of war and fate.- 
 
 Whereto great Soliman 'gan thus reply : 
 O happy man, to so great praise ybore ! 
 Thus he rejoiced, but yet envied more ; 
 
 xxiv. 
 And said Let chance with good or had aspect 
 
 Upon rue look as sacred heav'ns decree, 
 This heart to her I never will subject, 
 
 Nor ever conquer' d shall she look on me ; 
 The moon her chariot shall awry direct, 
 
 Ere from this course I will diverted be. 
 While thus he spake, it seem'd he breathed fire, 
 So fierce his courage was, so hot his ire. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Thus talked they, till they arrived been 
 
 Nigh to the place where Godfrey's tents were rear'd ; 
 There was a woeful spectacle yseen, 
 
 Death in a thousand ugly forms appear'd; 
 The Soldan changed hue for grief and teen, 
 
 On that sad book his shame and loss he lear'd, 
 Ah ! with what grief his men, his friends, he found, 
 And standards proud, inglorious lie on ground ! 
 
 xxvi. 
 And saw, on visage of some well-known friend 
 
 (In foul despite) a rascal Frenchman tread ; 
 And there another ragged peasant rend 
 
 The arms and garments from some champion dead ; 
 And there with stately pomp by heaps they wend, 
 
 And Christians slain roll up in webs of lead : 
 Lastly, the Turks and slain Arabians (brought 
 On heaps) he saw them burn with fire to nought. 
 
8 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Deeply he sighed, and with naked sword 
 Out of the coach he leaped in the mire, 
 
 But Israen call'd again the angry Lord, 
 
 And with grave words nppeas'd his foolish ire* 
 
 The Prince content remounted at his word, 
 Towards a hill on drove the aged sire, 
 
 And hasting forward up the bank they pass, 
 
 Till far behind the Christian leader was. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 There they alight and took their way on foot, 
 The empty chariot vanish'd out of sight, 
 
 Yet still the cloud environ'd them about; 
 At their left hand down went they from the height 
 
 Of Sion's hill, till they approach'd the rout ; 
 On that side where to west he looketh right, 
 
 There Ismen stayed, and his eye-sight bent 
 
 Upon the bushy rocks, and thither went. 
 
 xxix. 
 
 A hollow cave was in the craggy stone, 
 
 Wrought out by hand a number years tofore, 
 
 And for of long that way had walked none, 
 The vault was hid with plants and bushes hoar : 
 
 The wizard stooping in thereat to gone, 
 
 The thorns aside and scratching brambles bore ; 
 
 His right hand sought the passage through the cleft, 
 
 And for his guide he gave the Prince his left. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 What ! (quoth the Solcjan) by what privy mine, 
 What hidden vault, behoves it me to creep ? 
 
 This sword can find a better way than thine, 
 
 Although our foes the passage guard and keep. 
 
 Let not (quoth he) thy princely foot repine 
 
 To tread this secret path, though dark and deep; 
 
 For great king Herod us'd to tread the same, 
 
 He that in arms bad whilome so great fame ; 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 This passage made he, when he would suppress 
 His subject's pride, and them in bondage hold; 
 
 By this he could from that small forteress 
 Antonia calPd, of Antonie the bold, 
 
 Convey his folk, unseen of more and less, 
 Even to the middest of the temple old ; 
 
 Thence hither, where these privy ways begin, 
 
 And bring unseen whole armies out and in : 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 But now, save I, in all this world lives none 
 That knows the secret of this darksome place ; 
 
 Come then where Aladine sits on his throne, 
 With Lords and Princes set about his grace ; 
 
 He feareth more than fitteth such an one, 
 
 Such signs of doubt shew in his cheer and face; 
 
 Fitly you come; hear, see, and keep you still, 
 
 Till time and season serve, then speak your fill. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 This said, that narrow entrance past the knight, 
 (So creeps a camel through a needle's eye,) 
 
 And through the ways as black as darkest night 
 He followed him that did him rule and guie: 
 
 Strait was the way at first, withouten light, 
 But further in did further amplify, 
 
 So that upright walked at ease the men 
 
 Ere they had passed half that secret den. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 A privy door Ismen unlock'd at last, 
 
 And up they climb'd a little-used stair, 
 Thereat the day a feeble beam in cast, 
 
 Dim was the light, and nothing clear the air ; 
 Out of the hollow cave at length they pass'd, 
 
 Into a goodly hall, high, broad, and fair, 
 Where crowu'd with gold, and all in purple clad, 
 Sate the sad king among his nobles sad. 
 
10 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The Turk (close in his hollow cloud embar'd), 
 Unseen, at will did all the prease behold, 
 
 These heavy speeches of the king he heard, 
 Who thus from lofty siege his pleasure told : 
 
 My Lords, last day our state was much impaired, 
 Our friends were slain, kilPd were our soldiers bold, 
 
 Great helps and greater hopes are us bereft, 
 
 Nor ought but aid from Egypt land is left ; 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 And well you see far distant is that aid, 
 Upon our heels our danger treadeth still, 
 
 For your advice was this assembly made, 
 
 Each what he thinketh speak, and what he will. 
 
 A whisper soft arose when this was said, 
 
 As gentle winds the groves with murmurs fill ; 
 
 But with bold face, high looks, and merry cheer 
 
 Argantes rose ; the rest their talk forebear. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 worthy Sovereign, (thus began to say 
 The hardy young man to the tyrant wise,) 
 
 What words be these ? what fsars do you disn?ay ? 
 
 Who knows not this, you need not our advice ? 
 But on our hands your hope of conquest lay, 
 
 And, for 110 loss true virtue damnifies, 
 Make her our shield, pray her us succours give, 
 And without her let us not wish to live. 
 
 xxxvin. 
 Nor say I this for that I ought misdeem 
 
 That Egypt's promised succours fail us might; 
 Doubtful of my great master's words to seem, 
 
 To me were neither lawful, just, nor right; 
 
 1 speak these words, for spurs I them esteem 
 
 To waken up each dull and fearful sprite, 
 And make our hearts resolv'd to all assays, 
 To win with honour, or to die with praise. 
 
BOOKX. OF JERUSALEM. 11 
 
 Thus much Argantes said, and said no more, 
 (As if the case were clear of which he spoke :) 
 
 Orcano rose, of princely stem yhore, 
 
 Whose presence 'mongst them bore a mighty stroke ; 
 
 A man esteemed well in arms of yore, 
 
 But now was coupled new in marriage yoke ; 
 
 Young babes he had, to fight which made him loth ; 
 
 He was a husband and a father boll). 
 XL. 
 
 My Lord (quoth he) I will not reprehend 
 The earnest zeal of this audacious speech, 
 
 From courage sprung, which seld is close ypen'd 
 In swelling stomach without violent^brecah; 
 
 And though to you our good Circassian friend, 
 In terms too bold and fervent, oft doth preach, 
 
 Yet hold I that for good in warlike feat, 
 
 For his great deeds respond his speeches great: 
 
 XLI. 
 
 But if it you beseem (whom graver age 
 
 And long experience hath made wise and sly) 
 
 To rule the heat of youth and hardy rage, 
 
 Which somewhat have misled this knight awry, 
 
 In equal balance ponder then and gage 
 
 Your hopes far distant with your perils nigh; 
 
 This town's old walls and rampires new compare 
 
 With Godfrey's forces, and his engines rare : 
 
 XL1I. 
 
 But (if I may say what I think unblamed) 
 
 This town is strong by nature, scite, and art ; 
 
 But engines huge and instruments are framed 
 'Gainst these defences by our adverse part ; 
 
 Who thinks him most secure is eathest shamed; 
 I hope the best, yet fear inconstant Mart; 
 
 And with this siege if we be long up-pent, 
 
 Famine, I doubt, our store will all be spent; 
 
12 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 For all that store of cattle and of grain 
 
 Which yesterday within these walls you brought, 
 
 While your proud foes triumphant through the plain 
 On nought but shedding blood and conquest thought, 
 
 Too little is this city to sustain, 
 
 To raise the siege unless some means be sought ; 
 
 And it must last till the prefixed hour, 
 
 That it be rais'd by Egypt's aid and pow'r : 
 
 XLIV. 
 But what if that appointed day they miss? 
 
 Or else (ere we expect) what if they came? 
 The victory yet is not ours for this. 
 
 Oh save this town from ruin, us from shame ; 
 With that same Godfrey still our warfare is, 
 
 These armies, soldiers, captains, are the same, 
 Who have so oft, amid the dusty plain, 
 Turks, Persians, Syrians, and Arabians slain. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 And thou, Argantes, wottest what they be, 
 Oft hast thou fled from that victorious host, 
 
 Thy shoulders often hast thou let them see, 
 And in thy feet hath been thy safeguard most ; 
 
 Clorinda bright and I fled both with thee; 
 
 None than his fellows had more cause to boast, 
 
 Nor blame I any. for in every fight 
 
 We shewed courage, valour, strength, and might : 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 And though this hardy knight the certain threat 
 Of near approaching death to hear disdain ; 
 
 Yet to this state of loss and danger great, 
 From this strong foe, I see the tokens plain ; 
 
 No fort, how strong soe'er by art or seat, 
 
 Can hinder Godfrey why he should not reign : 
 
 This makes me say (to witness heav'n I bring) 
 
 Zeal to this state, love to my lord and king. 
 
BOOK X. OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 The King of Tripoli was well advis'd 
 
 To purchase peace and so preserve his crown ; 
 
 But Soliman (who Godfrey's love despised) 
 Is either dead or deep in prison thrown ; 
 
 Else fearful is he run away disguis'd, 
 
 And scant his life is left him for his own ; 
 
 And yet with gifts, with tribute, and with gold, 
 
 He might in peace his empire still have hold. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 Thus spake Orcanes, and some inkling gave 
 
 In doubtful words of that he would have said i 
 To sue for peace, or yield himself a slave, 
 
 He durst not openly his king persuade: 
 But at these words the Soldan 'gan to rave, 
 
 And 'gainst his will wrapt in the cloud he staid ; 
 Whom Ismen thus bespake : How can you bear 
 These words, my Lord, or these reproaches hear?- 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Oh let me speak (quoth he) with ire and scorn 
 I burn, and 'gainst my will thus hid I stay. 
 
 This said, the smoky cloud was cleft and torn, 
 Which like a veil upon them stretched lay, 
 
 And up to open heav'n forthwith was borne, 
 And left the Prince in view of lightsome day; 
 
 With princely look amid the prease he shin'd, 
 
 And on a sudden thus declard his mind : 
 
 Of whom you speak behold the Soldan here, 
 Neither afraid, nor run away for dread : 
 
 And that these slanders, lies, and fables were, 
 This hand shall prove upon that coward's head ; 
 
 I, who have shed a sea of blood well near, 
 
 And henp'd up mountains high of Christians dead ; 
 
 I in their camp who still maintain'd the fray, 
 
 (My men all murder'd) I that ran away. 
 
14 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 LI. 
 
 If this, or any coward vile beside, 
 
 False to his faith and country, dares reply, 
 
 And speak of concord with yond men of pride, 
 By your good leave, Sir King, here shall he die; 
 
 The lambs and wolves shall in one fold abide, 
 The doves and serpents in one nest shall lie, 
 
 Before one town us and these Christians shall 
 
 la peace and love unite within one walL 
 
 l*il. 
 
 While thus he spoke, his broad and trenchant sword 
 His hand held high aloft in threatening guise : 
 
 Dumb stood the knights, so dreadful was his word ; 
 A storm was in his front, fire in his eyes ; 
 
 He turn'd at last to Sion's aged Lord, 
 
 And calm'd his visage stern in humbler wise: 
 
 Behold (quoth he), good Prince, what aid I bring, 
 
 Since Soliman is joiifd with Judah's King. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 King Aladine from his rich throne upstart, 
 And saidOh how I joy thy face to view, 
 
 My noble friend, it less'neth in some part 
 My grief for slaughter of my subjects true ; 
 
 My weak estate to 'stablish come thou art, 
 And may'st thine own again in time renew. 
 
 If heav'ns consent. With that the Soldan bold 
 
 la dear embracemeots did he long enfold. 
 LIV. 
 
 Their greetings done, the Kins: resign'd his throne 
 
 To Soliman, and set himself beside 
 In a rich seat adorn'd with gold and stone, 
 
 And Ismen sage did at his elbow bide, 
 Of whom he ask'd what way they two had gone, 
 
 And he declar'd all what had them betide. 
 Clorinda bright to Soliman address'd 
 Her salutations first, then all the rest. 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 15 
 
 Among them rose Ormusses, valiant knight, 
 Whom late the Soldan with a convoy sent, 
 
 And when most hot and bloody was the fight, 
 By secret paths and blind bye-ways he went, 
 
 Till, aided by the silence and the night, 
 Safe in the city's walls himself he pent, 
 
 And there refreshed with corn and cattle store 
 
 The pined soldiers, famish'd nigh before. 
 
 i/vi. 
 With surly count'nance and disdainful grace. 
 
 Sullen and sad, sat the Circassian stout, 
 Like a fierce lion grumbling in his place, 
 
 His fiery eyes that turns and rolls about : 
 Nor durst Orcaues view the Soldan's face, 
 
 But still upon the floor did pore and tout. 
 Thus with his lords and peers in counselling, 
 The Turkish Monarch sat with Judah's King. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Godfrey this while gave victory the rein, 
 And following her the straits he opened all; 
 
 Then, for his soldiers and his captains slain, 
 He celebrates a stately funeral, 
 
 And told his camp within a day or twain 
 He would assault the city's mighty wall, 
 
 And all the heathen there inclos'd doth threat 
 
 With fire and sword, with death and danger great: 
 
 i/vin. 
 And, for he hnd ihat noble squadron known, 
 
 In the last fight which brought him so great aid, 
 To be the Lords and Princes of his own, 
 
 Who follow'd late the sly enticing maid, 
 And with them Tancred (who had late been thrown 
 
 In prison deep, by that false witch betray'd), 
 Before the hermit and some private friends, 
 For all those worthies, Lords and Knights, he sends ? 
 
16 THE RECOVERT BOOK X. 
 
 And thus he said: Someone of you declare 
 Your fortunes, whether good or to be blamed, 
 
 And to assist us with your valours rare 
 
 (In so great need) how was your coming framed ? 
 
 They blush, and on the ground amazed stare, 
 (For virtue is of little guilt ashamed) ; 
 
 At last the English Prince, with count'nance bold, 
 
 The silence broke, and thus their errors told : 
 
 LX. 
 
 We (not elect to that exploit by lot) 
 
 With secret flight from hence ourselves withdrew, 
 Following false Cupid, I deny it not, 
 
 Enticed forth by love and beauty's hue; 
 A jealous fire burnt in our stomachs hot, 
 
 And by close ways we passed least in view : 
 Her words, her looks, (alas ! I know too late) 
 Nursed our love, our jealousy, our hate. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 At last we 'gan approach that woeful clime [sent, 
 Where fire and brimstone down from heav'ii was 
 
 To take revenge for sin and shameful crime 
 
 'Gainst kind commit, by those who nould repent : 
 
 A loathsome lake of brimstone, pitch, and slime, 
 O'ergoes that land, erst sweet and redolent; 
 
 And when it moves, thence stench and smoke up-flies 
 
 Which dim the welkin and infect the skies. 
 
 This is the lake in which yet never might 
 
 Aught that hath weight sink to the bottom down, 
 
 But like to cork, to leaves, or feathers light, 
 
 Stones, iron, men, there float, and never drown : 
 
 Therein a castle stands, to which by sight 
 But o'er a narrow bridge no way is known : 
 
 Hither us brought, here welcom'd us the witch 5 
 
 The house within was stately, pleasant, rich. 
 
BOOK X. OF JERUSALEM. 17 
 
 The heav'ns were clear, and wholesome was the air, 
 High trees, sweet meadows, waters pure and good; 
 
 For there in thickest shade of myrtles fair 
 A crystal spring pour'd out a silver flood ; 
 
 Amid the herbs, the grass, and flowers rare, 
 
 The falling leaves down pntter'd from the wood ; 
 
 The birds sung hymns of love ; yet speak I nought 
 
 Of gold and marble rich, and richly wrought. 
 LXIV. 
 
 Under the curtain of the green-wood shade, 
 Beside the brook, upon the velvet grass, 
 
 In massy vessels of pure silver made, 
 
 A banquet rich and costly fiirnish'd was ; 
 
 All beasts, all birds, beguiPd by fowler's trade, 
 All fish were there in floods or seas that pass; 
 
 AH dainties made by art; and at the table 
 
 An hundred virgins serv'd, for husbands able. 
 
 LXV. 
 She, with sweet words and false enticing smiles, 
 
 Infused love among the dainties set, 
 And with empoison'd cups our souls beguiles, 
 
 And made each knight himself and God forget. 
 She rose, and turn'd again within short whiles, 
 
 With changed looks where wrath and anger met; 
 A charming rod, a book, with her she brings, 
 On which she mumbled strange and secret things. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 She read, and changed I felt my will and thought, 
 1 long'd to change my life and place of biding ; 
 
 That virtue strange in me no pleasure wrought, 
 I leap'd into the flood myself there hiding; 
 
 My legs and feet both into one were brought, 
 Mine arms and hands into my shoulders sliding, 
 
 My skin was full of scales like shields of brass ; 
 
 Now made a fish, where lute a knight I was. 
 
 VOL. II. C 
 
18 THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 The rest with me like shape, like garments wore, 
 And div'd with me in that quick silver stream : 
 
 Such mind (to my rememhrance) then I bore, 
 As when on vain and foolish things men dream. 
 
 At last our shape it pleas'd her to restore, 
 Then full of wonder and of fear we seem, 
 
 And with an ireful look the angry maid 
 
 Thus threatened us, and made us thus afraid : 
 
 You see (quoth she) my sacred might and skill, 
 How you are subject to my rule and power; 
 
 In endless thraldom damned, if 1 will, 
 
 I can torment and keep you in this tower; 
 
 Or make you birds, or trees on craggy hill, 
 To bide the bitter blasts of storm and shower, 
 
 Or harden you to rocks on mountains old, 
 
 Or melt your flesh and bones to rivers cold. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Yet may you well avoid mine ire and wrath, 
 If to my will your yielding hearts you bend, 
 
 You must forsake your Christendom and faith, 
 And 'gainst Godfredo false my crown defend. 
 
 We all refus'd, for speedy death each pray'th, 
 Save false Rambaido, he became her friend ; 
 
 We in a dungeon deep were helpless cast, 
 
 In misery and iron chained fast. 
 
 Then (for alone they say falls no mishap) 
 
 Within short while Prince Tancred thither came, 
 
 And was un'wares surprised in the trap : 
 
 But there short while we staid : the wily dame 
 
 In other folds our mischiefs would upwrap ; 
 From Hidraort an hundred horsemen came, 
 
 Whose guide, a Baron bold, to Egypt's king 
 
 Should us dis;irm'd, and bound in fetters bring. 
 
IJOOK X, OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Now on our way, the way to death, we ride ; 
 
 But Providence divine thus for us wrought : 
 Rinaldo (whose high virtue is his guide 
 
 To great exploits exceeding human thought) 
 Met us, and all at once our guard defy'd, 
 
 And, ere he left the fight, to earth them brought; 
 And in their harness arm'd us in the place, 
 Which late were ours before our late disgrace. 
 LXXII. 
 
 I, and all these, the hardy champion knew, 
 We saw his valour, and his voice we heard 
 
 Then is the rumour of his death untrue, 
 His life is safe, good fortune long it guard: 
 
 Three times the golden sun has risen new 
 Since us he left and rode to Antioch ward ; 
 
 But first his armours broken, hack'd, and cleft, 
 
 Unfit for service, there he doft and left. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Thus spake the Briton Prince: with humble cheer 
 The hermit sage to heav'n cast up his eyne, 
 
 His colour and his count'nance changed were, 
 With heavenly grace his looks and visage shine; 
 
 Ravish'd with zeal, his soul approached near 
 The seat of angels pure and saints divine; 
 
 And there he learn'd of things and haps to come, 
 
 To give foreknowledge true, and certain doom. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 At last he spoke (in more than human sound), 
 And told what things his wisdom great foresaw ; 
 
 And at his thutid'ring voice the folk around 
 
 Attentive stood, with trembling and with awe: 
 
 Rinaldo lives, he said; the tokens found 
 
 From women's craft their false beginnings draw 5 
 
 He lives, and heav'n will long preserve his days, 
 
 To greater glory aud to greater praise. 
 c 2 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK X. 
 
 These are but trifles yet, though Asia's kings 
 Shrink at his name and tremble at his view ; 
 
 I well foresee he shall do greater things, 
 And wicked emperors conquer and subdue; 
 
 Under the shadow of his eagle's wings 
 
 Shall holy church preserve her sacred crew ; 
 
 From Caesar's bird he shall the sable train 
 
 Pluck off, and break her talons sharp in twain : 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 His children's children at his hardiness 
 
 And great attempts shall take ensample fair, 
 
 From emperors unjust in all distress 
 
 They shall defend the state of Peter's chair; 
 
 To raise the humble up, pride to suppress, 
 To help the innocents, shall be their care: 
 
 This bird of east shall fly with conquest great 
 
 As far as moon gives light or sun gives heat: 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Her eyes behold the truth and purest light, 
 And thunders down in Peter's aid she brings, 
 
 And where for Christ and Christian faith men fight, 
 Thereforth she spreadeth her victorious wings; 
 
 This virtue Nature gives her and this might, 
 Then lure her home, for on her presence hings 
 
 The happy end of this great enterprize ; 
 
 So heav'u decrees, and so command the skies. 
 
 These words of his, of Prince Rinaldo's death 
 Out of their troubled hearts the fear had rased; 
 
 In all this joy yet Godfrey smil'd uneath, 
 
 In his wise thought such care and heed was placed. 
 
 But now from deeps of regions underneath 
 
 Night's veil arose, and sun's bright lustre chaced ; 
 
 When all full sweetly in their cabins slept, 
 
 Save he whose thoughts his eyes still open kept. 
 
ROOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 21 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 With grave procession, songs, and psalms devout, 
 Heav'n's sawed aid the Christian Lords invoke : 4 
 
 That done, they scale the wall which kept them out j 19 
 The fort is almost won, the gates nigh broke : 
 
 Godfrey is wounded by Clorinda stout, 54 
 
 And lost is that day's conquest by the stroke: 
 
 The Angel cares him, he returns to fight, 74 
 
 But lost his labour, for day lost his light. 
 
 THE Christian armies* great and puissant Guide, 
 T'assault the town that all his thoughts had bent, 
 
 Did ladders, rams, and engines huge provide. 
 When reverend Peter to him gravely went, 
 
 And drawing him with sober grace aside, 
 
 With words severe thus told his high intent: 
 
 Right well, my Lord, these earthly strengths you move, 
 
 But let us first begin from heav'n above ; 
 
 IT. 
 With public prayer, zeal, and faith devout, 
 
 The aid, assistance, and the help obtain 
 Of all the blessed of the heav'nly rout, 
 
 With whose support you conquest sure may gain. 
 First let the priests, before thine armies stout, 
 
 With sacred hymns their holy voices strain ; 
 And thou, and all thy lords and peers with thee, 
 Of godliness and faith ensamples be. 
 
22 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus spake the hermit grave in words severe ; 
 
 Godfrey allow'd his counsel sage and wise : 
 Of Christ the Lord (quoth he) thou servant dear, 
 
 I yield to follow thy divine advice; 
 And while the Princes 1 assemble here, 
 
 The great procession, songs, and sacrifice, 
 With Bishop William, thou, and Ademare, 
 With sacred and with solemn pomp prepare. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Next morn the bishops twain, the hereraite. 
 And all the clerks and priests of less estate, 
 
 Did in the middest of the camp unite, 
 Within a place for prayer consecrate: 
 
 Each priest adorn'd was in a surplice white, 
 
 The bishops don'd their albes and copes of state, 
 
 Above their rochets button'd fair before, 
 
 And mitres on their heads like crowns they wore, 
 
 v. 
 
 Peter alone, before, spread to the wind 
 The glorious sign of our salvation great; 
 
 With easy pace the choir came all behind, 
 And hymns and psalms in order true repeat; 
 
 With sweet respondence in harmonious kind, 
 Their humble song the yielding air doth beat; 
 
 Lastly, together went the reverend pair 
 
 Of prelates sage, William and Ademare : 
 
 vi. 
 
 The mighty Duke came next, as princes do, 
 Without companion, marching all alone ; 
 
 The lords and captains came by two and two ; 
 The soldiers for their guard were arm'd each one. 
 
 With easy pace thus order'd, passing through 
 The trench and rampire, to the fields they gone j 
 
 No thundering drum, no trumpet shrill they hear, 
 
 Their godly music psalms and prayers were. 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 23 
 
 To thee, O Father, Son, and sacred Spright, 
 
 One true, eternal, everlasting King, 
 To Christ's dear mother Mary, virgin bright, 
 
 Psalms of thanksgiving and of praise they sing; 
 To them that angels down from heav'n to fight 
 
 'Gainst the blasphemous beast and dragon bring ; 
 To him also that of our Saviour good 
 Washed the sacred front in Jordan's flood ; 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Him likewise they invoke, called the rock 
 Whereon the Lord they say his church did rear, 
 
 Whose true successors close or else unlock 
 The blessed gates of grace and mercy dear; 
 
 And all th' elected twelve, the chosen flock, 
 Of his triumphant death who witness bear ; 
 
 And them by torment, slaughter, fire and sword, 
 
 Who martyrs died to confirm his word ; 
 
 IX. 
 
 And them also whose books and writings tell 
 What certain path to heav'nly bliss us leads; 
 
 And hermits good and anchresses, that dwell 
 Mew'd up in walls, and mumble on their beads; 
 
 And virgin nutis in close aud private cell, 
 
 Where (but shrift fathers) never mankind treads ; 
 
 On these they called, and on all the rout 
 
 Of angels, martyrs, and of saints devout. 
 
 x. 
 
 Singing and saying thus the camp devout 
 
 Spread forth her zealous squadrons broad and wide, 
 
 Towards mount Olivet went all this rout, 
 So call'd of olive trees the hill which hide; 
 
 A mountain known by fame the world throughout. 
 Which riseth on the city's eastern side, 
 
 From it divided by the valley green 
 
 Of Josaphat, that fills the space betweeu. 
 
'24 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 Hither the armies went, and chauntcd shrill, 
 That all the deep and hollow dales resound $ 
 
 From hollow mounts and caves in every hill 
 A thousand echoes also sung around ; 
 
 It seem'd some choir that sung with art and skill 
 Dwelt in those savage dens and shady ground, 
 
 For oft resounded from the hanks they hear 
 
 The name of Christ and of his mother dear. 
 
 Upon the walls the Pagans old and young 
 Stood hush'd and still, amated and amazed 
 
 At their grave order and their humble song, 
 
 At their strange pomp and customs new they gazed : 
 
 But when the show they had beholden long, 
 An hideous yell the wicked miscreants raised, 
 
 That with vile blasphemies the mountains hoar, 
 
 The woods, the waters, and the valleys roar. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But yet with sacred notes the hosts proceed, 
 
 Though blasphemies they hear and cursed things: 
 
 So with Apollo's harp Pan tunes his reed, 
 So adders hiss where Philomela sings. 
 
 Nor flying darts nor stones the Christians dread, 
 Nor arrows shot, nor quarries cast from slings; 
 
 But with assured faith, as dreading nought, 
 
 The holy work begun to end they brought. 
 
 xiv. 
 
 A table set they on the mountain's height, 
 
 To minister thereon the sacrament; 
 In golden candlesticks a fallowed light 
 
 At either end of virgin wax there brent: 
 In costly vestments sacred William dight, 
 
 With fear and trembling to the altar went, 
 And prayer there and service loud begins, 
 Both for his own and all the armies' sins. 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 25 
 
 Humbly they heard his words that stood him nigh, 
 The rest far off upon him bent their eyes; 
 
 But when he ended had the service high, 
 You servants of the Lord depart he cries : 
 
 His hands he lifted then up to the sky, 
 And blessed all those warlike companies; 
 
 And they dismissed return'd the way they came, 
 
 Their order as before, their pomp the same. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Within their camp arriv'd, this voyage ended, 
 Towards his tent the Duke himself withdrew ; 
 
 Upon their guide by heaps the bands attended, 
 Till his pavilion's stately door they view ; 
 
 There to the Lord his welfare they commended, 
 And with him left the worthies of the crew, 
 
 Whom at a costly and rich feast he placed, 
 
 And with the highest room old Raimoud graced. 
 
 Now when the hungry knights sufficed are 
 
 With meat, with drink, with spices of the best, 
 
 Quoth he When next you see the morning star, 
 T'assault the town be ready all and prest : 
 
 To-morrow is a day of pains and war, 
 This of repose, of quiet, peace, and rest : 
 
 Go, take your ease this evening and this night, 
 
 And make you strong against to-morrow's fight.- 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 They took their leave, and Godfrey's heralds rode 
 x To intimate his will on every side, 
 And puhlish'd it through all the lodgings broad, 
 
 That 'gainst the morn each should himself provide, 
 Meanwhile they might their hearts of cares unload, 
 
 And rest their tired limbs that evening tide. 
 Thus fared they till night their eyes did close, 
 Night, friend to gentle rest and sweet repose. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 With little sign as jet of springing day 
 
 Out peep'd, not well appeared, the rising morn, 
 
 The plough yet tore not up the fertile lay, 
 Nor to their feed the sheep from folds return, 
 
 The birds sat silent on the green-wood spray, 
 Amid the groves unheard was hound and horn; 
 
 When trumpets shrill, true signs of hardy fights, 
 
 Call'd up to arms the soldiers, cail'd the knights. 
 
 xx. 
 
 Arm ! arm ! at once an hundred squadrons cried, 
 And with their cry to arm them all begin ; 
 
 Godfrey arose ; that day he laid aside 
 
 His hawberk strong he wont to combat in, . 
 
 And dond a breast-plate fair, of proof untried, 
 Such one as footmen use, light, easy, thin : 
 
 Scantly their lord thus cloathed had his grooms, 
 
 When aged Raimond to his presence comes ; 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And furnish'd thus when he the man beheld, 
 By his attire his secret thought he gues'd : 
 
 Where is (quoth he) your sure and trusty shield, 
 Your helm, your hawberk strong, where all the rest ? 
 
 Why be you half disarm'd ? why to the field 
 Approach you in these weak defences drest? 
 
 I see this day you mean a course to run, 
 
 Wherein may peril much, small praise be won : 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Alas! do you that idle praise expect, 
 
 To set first foot this conquer'd wall above ? 
 
 Of less account some knight thereto object, 
 Whose loss so great and harmful cannot prove t 
 
 My Lord, your life with greater care protect, 
 And love yourself because all us you love ; 
 
 Your happy life is spirit, soul, and breath, 
 
 Of all this camp, preserve it then from death. 
 
300K XI. OF JERUSALEM. 27 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 To this he answered thus : You know (he said) 
 In Clarimont, by mighty Urban's hand 
 
 When I was girded with this noble blade, 
 
 For Christ's true faith to fight in every land, 
 
 To God ev'n then a secret vow I made, 
 Not as a captain here this day to stand 
 
 And give directions, but with shield and sword 
 
 To fight, to win, or die for Christ my Lord. 
 
 xxiv. 
 
 When all this camp in battaile strong shall be 
 Ordain'd and order'd, well disposed all, 
 
 And all things done which to the high degree 
 And sacred place I hold belonging shall; 
 
 Then reason is it, nor dissuade thou me, 
 That I likewise assault this sacred wall, 
 
 Lest from my vow to God late made I swerve ; 
 
 He shall this life defend, keep, and preserve. 
 xxv. 
 
 Thus he concludes; and every hardy knight 
 His sample follow'd, and his brethren twain : 
 
 The other Princes put on harness light 
 As footmen use ; but all the Pagan train 
 
 Towards that side bent their defensive might 
 That lies expos'd to view of Charles-wain, 
 
 And Zephyrus' sweet blasts ; for on that part 
 
 The town was weakest both by site and art. 
 
 xxvi. 
 
 On all parts else the fort was strong by site, 
 With mighty hills defenc'd from foreign rage; 
 
 And to this part the tyrant 'gan unite 
 
 His subjects born, and bands that serve for wage $ 
 
 From this exploit he spar'd nor great nor lite : 
 The aged men and boys of tender age 
 
 To fire of angry war still brought new fuel, 
 
 Stones, darts, lime, brimstone, and bitumen cruel. 
 
28 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 All full of arms and weapons was the wall 
 
 Under whose basis that fair plain doth run ; 
 There stood the Soldan like a giant tall, 
 
 (So stood at Rhodes the coloss of the sun) ; 
 Waste high Argantes shew'd himself wit hall, 
 
 At whose stern looks the French to quake begun ; 
 Clorinda on the corner tower alone. 
 In silver arms, like rising Cinthia shone ; 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Her rattling quiver at her shoulders hung, 
 Therein a flash of arrows feathered weel; 
 
 In her left hand her bow was bended strung, 
 Therein a shaft headed with mortal steel ; 
 
 So fit to shoot, she singled forth among 
 
 Her foes who first her quarry's strength should feel ; 
 
 So fit to shoot Latona's daughter stood, 
 
 When Niobe she kill'd and all her brood. 
 
 The aged tyrant trotted on his feet 
 
 From gate to gate, from wall to wall he flew; 
 
 He comforts all his bands with speeches sweet, 
 And every fort and bastion doth review ; 
 
 For every need prepai'd, in every street 
 
 New regiments he phc'd, and weapons new. 
 
 The matrons grave within their temples hie, 
 
 To idols false for succours call, and cry 
 
 XXX. 
 
 O Macon ! break in twain the steeled lance 
 Of wicked Godfrey with thy righteous hands, 
 
 Against thy name he doth his arm advance, 
 His rebel blood pour out upon these sands. 
 
 These cries within his ears no enterance [stand. 
 
 Could find ; for nought he hears, nought under- 
 
 While thns the town for her defence ordains, 
 
 His armies Godfrey ordereth on the plains. 
 
UOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 29 
 
 His forces first on foot he forward brought, 
 With goodly order, providence, and art; 
 
 And 'gainst those towers which t'assail he thought, 
 In battaiies twain his strength he dolh depart; 
 
 Between them cross-hows stood, and engines wrought 
 To cast a stone, a quarry, or a dart, 
 
 From whence, like thunder's dint, or lightnings new, 
 
 Against the bulwarks stones and lances flew : 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 His men-at-arms did hack his bands on foot: 
 
 The light horse ride far off, and serve for wings. 
 
 He gave the sign ; so mighty was the rout 
 
 Of those that shot with bows and cast with slings, 
 
 Such storms of shafts and stones flew all about, 
 That many a Pagan proud to death it brings : 
 
 Some died, some at the loops durst scarce out peep, 
 
 Some fled aud left the place they took to keep. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The hardy Frenchmen, full of heat and haste, 
 Ran boldly forward to the ditches large, 
 
 And o'er their heads an iron pentice vast 
 
 They built, by joining many a shield and targe: 
 
 Some with their engines ceaseless shot and cast, 
 And volleys huge of arrows sharp discharge; 
 
 Upon the ditches some employ'd their pain, 
 
 To fill the moat and even it with the plain. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 With slime or mud the ditches were not soft, 
 But dry and sandy, void of waters clear; 
 
 Though large and deep, the Christians fill them oft 
 With rubbish, fagots, stones, and trees they bear. 
 
 Adraslus first advanc'd his crest aloft, 
 And boldly 'gan a strong scahido rear, 
 
 And through the falling storm did upward climb 
 
 Of stones, darts, arrows, fire, pitch, and lime. 
 
30 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 The hardy Switzer now so far was gone, 
 That half-way up with mickle pain he got, 
 
 A thousand weapons he sustain'd alone, 
 And bis audacious climbing ceased not; 
 
 At last upon him fell a mighty stone, 
 
 As from some engine great it had been shot, 
 
 It broke his helm, he tumbled from the height; 
 
 The strong Circassian cast that wond'rous weight* 
 xxxvi. 
 
 Not mortal was the blow, yet with the fall 
 On earth sore bruis'd the man lay in a swoon. 
 
 Argantes 'gan with boasting words to call, 
 Who cometh next ? this first is tumbled down ? 
 
 Come, hardy soldiers, come, assault this wall; 
 1 will not shrink, nor fly, nor hide my crown ; 
 
 If in your trench yourselves for dread you hold, *" 
 
 There shall you die, like sheep kill'd in their fold.- 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Thus boasted he; but in their trenches deep 
 
 The hidden squadrons kept themselves from scath ; 
 
 The curtain made of shields did well off keep 
 Both darts and shot, and scorned all their wrath. 
 
 But now the ram, upon the rampire's steep, 
 On mighty beams his head advanced hath, 
 
 With dreadful horns of iron tough tree-great; 
 
 The wails and bulwarks trembled at his threat. 
 
 An hundred able men meanwhile let fall 
 
 The weights behind, the engine tumbled do.vrn, 
 
 And batterd flat the battlements and wall, 
 (So fell Taigetus' hill on Sparta town ;) 
 
 It crushed the steeled shield in pieces small, 
 And beat the helmet to the wearer's crown, 
 
 And on the ruins of the wails and stones 
 
 Dispersed loft their blood, their brains, and bones. 
 
HOOK XI, OF JERUSALEM. 31 
 
 The fierce assailants kept no longer close 
 Under the shelter of their targets fine, 
 
 But their bold fronts to chance of war expose, 
 And 'gainst those towers let their virtue shine : 
 
 The scaling ladders up to skies arose; 
 
 The ground-works deep some closely undermine; 
 
 The walls before the Frenchmen shrink and shake, 
 
 And, gaping, signs of headlong falling make : 
 
 XL. 
 
 And falPn they had, (so far the strength extends 
 Of that fierce ram, and his redoubted stroke,) 
 
 But that the Pagans' care the place defends, 
 And sav'd by warlike skill the wall nigh broke; 
 
 For to what part soe'er the engine bends, 
 
 There sacks of wool they place, the blow to choke, 
 
 Whose yielding breaks the strokes thereon which light; 
 
 So weakness oft subdues the greatest might. 
 
 XLI. 
 While thus the worthies of the western crew 
 
 Maiutain'd their brave assault and skirmish hot, 
 Her mighty bow Clorinda often drew* 
 
 And many a sharp and deadly arrow shot; 
 And from her bow no steeled shaft there flew, 
 
 But that some blood the cursed engine got, 
 Blood of some valiant knight or man of fame, 
 For that proud shootress scorned weaker game. 
 XLJI. 
 
 The first she hit among the Christian Peers 
 Was the hold son of England's noble King; 
 
 Above the trench himself he scantly rears, 
 But she an arrow loosed from the string ; 
 
 The wicked steel his gauntlet breaks and tears.fsting: 
 And through his right hand thrust the piercing 
 
 Disabled thus from fight, he 'gan retire, 
 
 Groaning for pain, but fretting more for ire. 
 
32 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 XLIII. 
 Lord Stephen of Amboise on the ditch's brim, 
 
 And on a ladder high Clotharius, died ; 
 From hack to breast an arrow pierced him, 
 
 The other was shot through from side to side. 
 Then, as he manag'd brave his courser trim, 
 
 On his left arm she hit the Flemings' guide ; 
 He stopt, and from the wound the reed out-twiivd, 
 But left the iron in his flesh behind. 
 
 As Ademare stood to behold the fight, 
 
 High on a bank withdrawn to breathe a space, 
 
 A fatal shaft upon his forehead light, 
 His hand he lifted up to feel the place. 
 
 Whereon a second arrow chanced right, 
 
 And uaiPd his hand unto his wounded facet 
 
 He fell, and with his blood distain'd the land, 
 
 His hoi) blood shed by a virgin's hand. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 While Palamede stood near the battlement, 
 
 Despising perils all and all mishap, 
 And upward still his hardy footings bent, 
 
 On his right eye he caught a deadly clap, 
 Through his right eye Clorinda's seventh shaft went, 
 
 And in his neck broke forth a bloody gap; 
 He underneath that bulwark dying fell. 
 Which late to scale and win he trusted well. 
 XLVI. 
 
 Thus shot the maid. The Duke with hard assay 
 And sharp assault meanwhile the town oppress'd: 
 
 Against that part which to his camp-ward lay, 
 An engine huge and wondrous he address'd, 
 
 A tower of wood, built for the town's decay, 
 As high as were the walls and bulwarks best; 
 
 A turret full of men and weapons pent, 
 
 And yet oil wheels it rolled, mov'd, and went. 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 33 
 
 This rolling fort bis nigh approaches made, 
 And darts and arrows spit against his foes, 
 
 As ships are wont in fight ; so it assay'd 
 
 With the strong wall to grapple and to close. 
 
 The Pagans on each side the peece invade, 
 And ail their force against this mass oppose ; 
 
 Sometimes the wheels, sometimes the battlement, 
 
 With timber, logs, and stones, they broke and rent. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 So thick flew stones and darts, that no man sees 
 The azure heavens, the sun his brightness lost, 
 
 The clouds of weapons, like two swarms of bee*, 
 Met in the air, and there each other cross'd. 
 
 And look how falling leaves drop down from trees, 
 When the moist sap is nipp'd with timely frost, 
 
 Or apples in strong winds from branches fall, 
 
 The Saraeines so tumbled from the wall ; 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 For on their part the greatest slaughter light, 
 
 They had no shelter 'gainst so sharp a shower ; 
 Some left alive betook themselves to flight, 
 
 So feared they this deadly thund'ring tower : 
 But Solirnan stay'd like a valiant knight, 
 
 And some with him that trusted in his power; 
 Argantes, with a long beach tree in hand, 
 Ran thither, this huge engine to withstand: 
 
 L. 
 With this he push'd the tower, and back it drives 
 
 The length of all his tree, a wond'rous way : 
 The hardy virgin by his side arrives, 
 
 To help Argantes in this hard assay. 
 The band that us'd the ram, this season, strives 
 
 To cut the cords wherein the woolpacks lay; 
 Which done, the sacks down in the trenches fall, 
 And to the battery naked left the wall. 
 
 VOL. n. o 
 
34 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 Li. 
 
 The tower above, the ram beneath, doth thunder ; 
 
 What lime and stone such puissance could abide? 
 The wall began (now bruis'd and crushed asunder) 
 
 Her wounded lap to open broad and wide : 
 Godfrey himself and his brought safely under 
 
 The shatter d wall, where greatest breach he spred ; 
 Himself he saves behind his mighty targe, 
 A shield not us'd but in some desp'rate charge. 
 
 From hence he sees where Soliman descends 
 Down to the threshold of the gaping breach, 
 
 And there it seems the mighty Prince intends, 
 Godfredo's hoped entrance to impeach ; 
 
 Argantes (and with him the maid) defends 
 
 The walls above, to which the tower doth reach : 
 
 His noble heart, when Godfrey this beheld, 
 
 With courage new, with wrath and valour swell'd : 
 
 LIII. 
 
 He turn'd ibout and to good Sigiere spake, 
 
 Who bare his greatest shield and mighty bow : 
 
 That sure and trusty target let me take, 
 Impenetrable is that shield I know; 
 
 Over these ruins will I passage make, 
 And enter first, the way is eath and low ; 
 
 And time requires that by some noble feat 
 
 I should make known my strength and puissance great. 
 LIV. 
 
 He scant had spoken, scant received the targe, 
 When on his leg a sudden shaft him hit, 
 
 And through that part a hole made wide and large, 
 Where his strong sinews fasten'd were and knit. 
 
 Clorinda, thou this arrow did'st discharge, 
 And let the Pagans bless thy hand for it, 
 
 For by that shot thou saved'st them that day 
 
 From bondage vile, from death aod sure decay. 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The wounded Duke, as though he felt no pain, 
 Still forward went and mounted up the breach ; 
 
 His high attempt at first he nould refrain, 
 
 And after call'd his Lords with cheerful speach : 
 
 But when his leg could not his weight sustain, 
 He saw his will did far his power outreach, 
 
 And more he strove his grief increased the more, 
 
 The bold assault he left at length therefore; 
 
 LVI. 
 
 And with his hand he beckon'd Guelpho near, 
 And said I must withdraw me to my tent, 
 
 >ly place and person in mine absence bear, 
 Supply my want ; let not the fight relent; 
 
 I go, and will ere long again be here, 
 
 I go and straight return. This said, he went; 
 
 On a light steed he leap'd, and o'er the green 
 
 He rode, but rode not (as he thought) unseen* 
 
 LVII. 
 
 When Godfrey parted, parted eke the heart, 
 
 The strength and fortune of the Christian bands ; 
 
 Courage increased in their adverse part, 
 
 Wrath in their hearts, and vigour in their hands: 
 
 Valour, success, strength, hardiness, and art, 
 Fail'd in the Princes of the western lands ; 
 
 Theirswords were blunt, faint was their trumpet's blast, 
 
 Their sun was set, or else with clouds o'ercast. 
 
 Upon the bulwarks now appeared bold 
 
 That fearful baud that late for dread was fled; 
 
 The women that Clorinda's strength behold, 
 Their country's love to war encouraged ; 
 
 They weapons got, and fight like men they would, 
 Their gowns tuck'd up, their locks were loose and 
 
 Sharp darts theycast, and without dread or fear, [spread, 
 
 Expos'd their breasts to save their fortress dear. 
 
 D2 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 But that which most dismay'd the Christian knights, 
 And added courage to the Pagans most, 
 
 Was Guelpho's sudden fall, in all men's sights, 
 Who tumbled headlong down, his footing lost ; 
 
 A mighty stone upon the worthy lights. 
 
 But whence it came none wist,* nor from what coast; 
 
 And with like blow, which more their hearts dismay'd, 
 
 Beside him low in dust old Kairnood laid, 
 
 LX. 
 And Eustace eke : within the ditches large, 
 
 To narrow shifts and last extremes they drive, 
 Upon their foes so fierce the Pagans charge, 
 
 And with good fortune so their hlows they give, 
 That whom they hit, in spite of helm or targe, 
 
 They deeply wound, or else of life deprive. 
 At this their good success Argantes proud, 
 Waxing more fell, thus roar'd and' cried aloud: 
 
 LXI. 
 
 This is not Antioch, nor the evening dark 
 
 Can help your privy sleights with friendly shade ; 
 
 The sun yet shines, your falsehood can we mark, 
 In other ways this bold assault is made ; 
 
 Of praise and glory quenched is the spark 
 
 That made you first these eastern lands invade: 
 
 Why cease you now ? why take you not this fort? 
 
 What, are you weary for a charge so short ? 
 
 xxn. 
 Thus raged he, and in such hellish sort 
 
 Increas'd the fury in the brain-sick knight, 
 That he esteem'd that lar^e and ample fort 
 
 Too strait a field wherein to prove his might : 
 There where the breach had fram'd a new-made port 
 
 Himself he plac'd, with nimble skips and light; 
 He clear'd the passage out, and thus he cried 
 To Soliman, that fought close by his side : 
 
BOOK XI. THE RECOVERY 37 
 
 JLXIII. 
 
 Come, Soliraan, the time and place behold 
 
 That of our valours well may judge the doubt; 
 
 What stayest thou ? among these Christians bold 
 First leap he forth that holds himself most stout. 
 
 While thus his will the mighty champion told, 
 Both Solirnan and he at once leap'd out : 
 
 Fury the first provok'd, disdain the last, 
 
 Who scorn'd the challenge ere his lips it past. 
 
 Upon their foes unlocked for they flew, 
 Each spited other for his virtue's sake; 
 
 So many soldiers this fierce couple slew, 
 
 So may shields they cleft and helms they brake, 
 
 So many ladders to the earth they threw, 
 
 That well they seem'd a mount thereof to meuk, 
 
 Or else some vamure fit to save the town, 
 
 Instead of that the Christians late beat down. 
 
 LXY. 
 
 The folk that strove with rage and haste before 
 Who first the wall and rampire should ascend, 
 
 Retire, and for that honour strive no more, 
 
 Scantly they could their limbs and lives defend ; 
 
 They fled; their engines lost the Pagans tore 
 In pieces small, their rams to nought they rend, 
 
 And all unfit for further service make, 
 
 With so great force and rage their beams they brakf. 
 
 The Pagans ran, transported with their ire, 
 
 Now here, now there, and woeful slaughters wrought, 
 
 At last they called fur devouring fire, 
 
 Two burning pines against the tower they brought: 
 
 So from the palace of their hellish sire 
 
 (When all this world they would consume to nought) 
 
 The fury sisters come with fire in hands, 
 
 Shaking their snaky locks and sparkling brands. 
 
33 OF JERUSALEM. BOOK XI. 
 
 But noble Tancred, who this while applied, 
 Gave exhortations to his bold Latines ; 
 
 When of these knights the wond'rous acts he spied. 
 And saw the champions with their burning pines., 
 
 He left his talk and thither forthwith hied, 
 To stop the rage of those fell Saracines, 
 
 And with such force the fight he there renewed, 
 
 That now they fled and lost who late pursued. 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Thus chang'd the state and fortune of the fray. 
 
 Meanwhile the wounded Duke, in grief and teen, 
 Within his great pavilion rich and gay, 
 
 Good Sigiere and Baldwin stood between : 
 His other friends, whom his mishap dismay, 
 
 With grief and tears about assembled been : 
 He strove in haste the weapon out to wind, 
 And broke the reed, but left the head behind. 
 LXIX. 
 
 He bade them take the speediest way they might, 
 Of that unlucky hurt to make him sound, 
 
 And to lay ope the depth thereof to sight ; 
 
 He will'd them open, search, and lance the wound. 
 
 Send me again (quoth he) to end this fight, 
 Before the sun be sunken under ground. 
 
 And leaning on a broken spear, he thrust 
 
 His leg straight out to him that cure it must. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Erotimus, born on the banks of Po, 
 
 Was he that undertook to cure the knight; 
 
 All what green herbs or waters pure could do, 
 
 He knew their power, their virtue, and their might ; 
 
 A noble poet was the man also ; 
 
 But in this science he had more delight; 
 
 He could restore to health death-wounded men. 
 
 And make their names immortal with his pen* 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 39 
 
 The mighty Duke yet never changed cheer, 
 But griev'd to see his friends lamenting stand : 
 
 The leach prepar'd his cloths and cleansing gear, 
 And with a belt his gown about him band*; 
 
 Now with his herhs the steely head to tear 
 
 Out of the flesh he prov'd, now with his hand ; 
 
 Now with his hand, now with his instrument, 
 
 He shak'd and pluckM it, yet not forth it went : 
 
 LX.X1I. 
 
 His labour vain, his art prevailed nought, 
 His luck was ill although his skill was good: 
 
 To such extremes the wounded Prince he brought, 
 That with fell pain he swooned as he stood. 
 
 But th' angel pure (that kept him) went and sought 
 Divine dictarnnum out of Ida wood ; 
 
 This herb is rough and bears a purple flower, 
 
 And iu his budding leaves lies all his power : 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Kind nature first upon the craggy clift, 
 
 Bewray'd this herb unto the mountain goat, 
 
 That when her sides a cruel shaft hath rift, 
 With it she shakes the reed out of her coat. 
 
 This in a moment fetch'd the angel swift, 
 
 And brought from Ida hill, though far remote ; 
 
 The juice whereof in a prepared bath, 
 
 Unseen, the blessed spirit poured hath : 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Pure nectar from that spring of Lydia then, 
 And panaces divine, therein he threw : 
 
 The cunning leach to bathe the wound began, 
 And of itself the steely head out flew; 
 
 The bleeding staunch'd, no vermile drop out-ran ; 
 The leg again wax'd strong, with vigour new : 
 
 Erotimus cried out This hurt and wound 
 
 No human art or hand so soon makes sound ; 
 
40 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Some angel good I think, come down from skies, 
 Thy surgeon is, for here plain tokens are 
 
 Of grace divine, to which thy help applies : 
 Thy weapon take, and haste again to war 
 
 In pretious cloths his leg the chieftain ties, 
 Nought could the man from blood and fight debar ; 
 
 A sturdy lance in his right hand he braced, 
 
 His shield he took, and on his helmet laced ; 
 
 And with a thousand knights and barons bold 
 Towards the town he hasted from his camp ; 
 
 In clouds of dust was Titan's face enrolPd, 
 
 Trembled the earth whereon the worthies stamp ; 
 
 His foes far off his dreadful looks behold, 
 
 Which in their hearts of courage quench'd the lamp, 
 
 A chilling fear ran cold through every vein. 
 
 Lord Godfrey shouted thrice and all his train : 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Their Sovereign's voice his hardy people knew, 
 And his loud cries that cheer'd each fearful heart ; 
 
 Thereat new strength they took and courage new, 
 And to the fierce assault again they start. 
 
 The Pagans twain this while themselves withdrew 
 Within the breach, to save that batter'd part, 
 
 And with great loss a skirmish hot they hold 
 
 Against Tancredie and his squadron bold. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Thither came Godfrey, armed round about 
 In trusty plate, with fierce and dreadful look : 
 
 At first approach against Argantes stout, 
 
 Headed with poignant steel, a lance be shook ; 
 
 No casting engine with such force throws out 
 A knotty spear, and as the way it took 
 
 It whistled in the air : the fearless knight 
 
 Opposed his shield against that weapon's might : 
 
BOOK XI. OF JERUSALEM. 41 
 
 The dreadful blow quite through his target drove, 
 And bored through his breast-plate strong aad thick . 
 
 The tender skin it in his bosom rove, 
 
 The purple blood outstreamed from the quick. 
 
 To wrest it out the wounded Pagan strove, 
 And little leisure gave it there to stick ; 
 
 At Godfrey's head the lance again he cast, 
 
 And said Lo, there again thy dart thou hast.- 
 
 LXXX. 
 The spear flew back the way it lately came, 
 
 And would revenge the harm itself had done, 
 But miss'd the mark whereat the man did aim, 
 
 He stepped aside the furious blow to shun : 
 But Sigiere in his throat received the same, 
 
 The murdering weapon at his neck out ran ; 
 Nor aught it griev'd the man to lose his breath. 
 Since iu his Prince's stead hesuffefd death. 
 
 Ev'n then the Soldan struck, with monstrous main, 
 The noble leader of the Norman band ; 
 
 He reePd awhile and stagger'd with the pain, 
 And wheeling round fell grovMling- on the sand. 
 
 Godfrey no longer could the grief sustain 
 
 Of these displeasures, but with flaming brand 
 
 Up to the breach in heat and haste he goes, 
 
 And hand to hand there combats with his foes : 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 And there great wonders surely wrought he had, 
 Mortal the fight, and fierce had been the fray, 
 
 But that dark night, from her pavilion sad, 
 Her cloudv wings did on the earth display, 
 
 Her quiet shades she interposed, glad 
 
 To cause the knights I heir arms aside to lay. 
 
 Godfrey withdrew, and to their tents they wend, 
 
 And thus this bloody day was brought to end. 
 
42 THE RECOVERY BOOK XI. 
 
 The weak and wounded, ere he left the field, 
 The godly Duke to safety thence convey'd, 
 
 Nor to his foes his engines would he yield, 
 In them his hope to win the fortress laid ; 
 
 Then to the tower he went and it behield, 
 
 The tower that late the Pagan Lords dismay'd, 
 
 But now stood bruised, broken, crack'd and shivered, 
 
 From some sharp storm as it were late delivered ; 
 
 L.XXXIV. 
 
 From dangers great escap'd but late it was, 
 And now to safety brought well nigh it seems ; 
 
 But as a ship that under sail doth pass 
 
 The roaring billows and the raging streams, 
 
 And drawing nigh the wished port, alas ! 
 
 Breaks on some hidden rock her ribs and beams; 
 
 Or as a steed rough ways that well hath past, 
 
 Before his ian stumbleth and falls at last ; 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Such hap befel that tower; for on that side 
 
 'Gainst which the Pagans' force and batt'ry bend, 
 
 Two wheels were broke whereon the peece should ride, 
 The maimed engine could no farther wend : 
 
 The troop that guarded it that part provide 
 To underprop with posts, and it defend, 
 
 Till carpenters and cunning workmen came, 
 
 Whose skill should help and rear again the same. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 Thus Godfrey bids, and that ere springing day 
 
 The cracks and bruises all amend they should ; 
 Each open passage and each privy way 
 
 About the peece he kept with soldiers bold : 
 But the loud rumour both of that they say 
 
 And that they do is heard within the hold ; 
 A thousand lights abouUthe tower they view, 
 And what they wrought all uight both saw and knew. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 43 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Clorinda hears her eunuch old report 
 
 Her birth, her offspring, and her native land. 18 
 
 Disguised shefireth Godfrey's rolling fort ; 45 
 
 The burned peece falls smoking on the sand. 46 
 
 With Tancred long; unknown, in desp'rate sort 51 
 
 She fights, and falls through pierced with his brand. 64 
 Christened she dies. With sighs, with plaints, and tears, 
 He wails her death. Argant revengement swears. 100 
 
 Now in dark night was all the world imbar'd, 
 
 But yet the tired armies took no rest, 
 The careful French kept heedful watch and ward, 
 
 While their high tower the workmen newly dress'd : 
 The Pagan crew to reinforce prepared 
 
 The weaken'd bulwarks, late to earth down kcst, 
 Their rampires broke and bruised walls to mend : 
 Lastly their hurts the wounded knights attend : 
 
 n. 
 
 Their wounds were dress'd ; part of the work wa 
 To wished end, part left to other days, [brought 
 
 A dull desire to rest deep midnight wrought, 
 His heavy rod sleep on their eye-lids lays : 
 
 Yet rested not Clorinda's working thought, 
 
 Which thirsted still for fame and warlike praise ; 
 
 Argantes eke accompanied the maid 
 
 From place to place, who to herself thus said:-^ 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 This day Argantes strong and Soliman [nown, 
 
 Strange things have done r and purchased great re- 
 
 Among our foes out of the walU they ran, 
 
 Their rams they broke arid rent their engines down : 
 
 I us'd my bow, of nought else boast I can ; 
 Myself stood safe meanwhile within this town, 
 
 And happy was my shot and prosp'rous too, 
 
 But that was all a woman's hand could do. 
 
 On birds and beasts in forests wild that feed 
 It were more fit mine arrows to bestow, 
 
 Than for a feeble maid in warlike deed 
 
 With strong and hardy knights herself to show: 
 
 Why take I not again my virgin's weeds, 
 
 And spend ray days in secret cell unknow? 
 
 Thus thought, thus mused, thus devis'd the maid, 
 
 And turning to the kuight, at last thus said :- 
 
 y. 
 
 My thoughts are full, my lord, of strange desire 
 Some high attempt of war to undertake ; 
 
 Whether high God my mind therewith inspire, 
 Or of his will his god mankind doth make : 
 
 Among our foes behold the light and fire; 
 I will amon them wend, and burn or break 
 
 The tower; God grant therein I have my will, 
 
 And that performed, betide me good or ill. 
 
 vi. 
 
 But if i* fortune such my chance should be, 
 That to this town I never turn again, 
 
 Mine eunuch (whom I dearly love) with thee 
 I leave ; my faithful maids, and all ray train; 
 
 To Egvpt then conducted safely see 
 
 Those woeful damsels, and that aged swain; 
 
 Help them, my lord, in that distressed case, 
 
 Their feeble sex, his age, deserveth grace. 
 
BOOK XU. OF JERUSALEM. 45 
 
 VII. 
 
 Argantes wondYmg stood, and Ml th' effect 
 
 Of true renown pierce through his glorious mind ; 
 
 And wilt thou go (quoth he) and me neglect, 
 Disgrac'd, despis'd. leave in this for I behind ? 
 
 Shall I, while these strong walls my life protect, 
 BehoUl thy flames and fires toss'd in the wind? 
 
 No, no, thy fellow have I been in arms, 
 
 And will be still, in praise, in death, in harms. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 This heart of mine death's bitter stroke despiseth, 
 For praise this lile, for glory take I his breath. 
 
 My soul the more (quoth she) thy friendship prizeth, 
 For this thy profer'd aid requir'd uneath ; 
 
 I but a woman am, no loss ariseth 
 To this besieged city by my death; 
 
 But if (as Gods forbid) this night tbou fall, 
 
 Ah! who shall then, who can, defend this wall? 
 
 Too late these 'xcuses vain (the knight replied) 
 You bring, my will i& n> m, my mind is set; 
 
 I follow you whereso you list me guide, 
 Or go before if you my purpose let. 
 
 This said, they hasted to the palace wide, 
 
 About their Prince where all his Lords were met ; 
 
 Clorinda spoke for both, and said Sir King, 
 
 Attend my words, hear, and allow the thing: 
 
 x 
 
 Argantes here, this bold and hardy knight, 
 Will undertake to burn the wond'rous tow'r, 
 
 And I with him ; only we stay till night 
 Bury in sleep our foes at deadest hour. 
 
 The King with that cast up his hands on hight, 
 The tears for joy upon his cheeks down pour: 
 
 Praised (quoth he) be Macon whom we serve! 
 
 This land I see he keeps,, and will preserve : 
 
46 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Nor shall so soon this shaken kingdom fall, 
 
 While such unconquer'd hearts my state defend : 
 
 But for tiiis act what praise or guerdon shall 
 I give your virtues, which so far extend? 
 
 Let fame your praises sound through nations all, 
 And fill the world therewith to either end ; 
 
 Take half my wealth and kingdom for your meed, 
 
 You are rewarded half ev'n with the deed. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Thus spake the Prince, and gently 'gan distrain, 
 Now him, now her, between his friendly arms. 
 
 The Soldan by, no longer could refrain 
 
 That noble envy which his bosom warms: 
 
 Nor I (quoth he) bear this broad sword in vain, 
 Nor yet am unexpert in night alarms; 
 
 Take me with you. Ah (quoth Clorinda) no! 
 
 Whom leave we here of powess if you go ? 
 
 XIII. 
 
 This spoken, ready with a proud refuse 
 Argantes was his proffer' d aid to scorn, 
 
 Whom Aladine prevents, and with excuse 
 To Soliman thus 'gan his speeches turn : 
 
 Right, noble Prince, as aye hath been your use, 
 Yourself so still you bear, and long have borne, 
 
 Bold in all acts, no danger can affright 
 
 Your heart, nor tired is your strength with fight 
 
 XIV. 
 
 If you went forth great things perform you would 
 
 In my concert, yet far unfit it seems 
 That you (who most excel in courage bold) 
 
 At once should leave this town in these extremes ; 
 Nor would I that these twain should leave this hold, 
 
 My heart their noble lives far worthier deems, 
 If this attempt of less importance were, 
 Or weaker posts so great a weight could bear: 
 
BOOK XII. OP JERUSALEM. 47 
 
 But, for well guarded is the mighty tower, 
 
 With hardy troops and squadrons round about, 
 
 And cannot harmed be with little power, 
 Nor fits the time to send whole armies out; 
 
 This pair, who p;ist have many a dreadful stour, 
 And proffer now to prove this venture stout, 
 
 Alone to this attempt let them go forth, 
 
 Alone than thousands of more price and worth. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Thou (as it best beseems a mighty king) 
 With ready bands beside the gate attend, 
 
 That when this couple have perform'd the thing, 
 And shall again their footsteps homeward bend, 
 
 From their strong foes upon them following 
 
 Thou may'st them keep, preserve, save and defend.- 
 
 Thus said the King; the Soldan must consent; 
 
 Silent remain'd the Turk, and discontent. 
 
 Then Ismen said : You twain that undertake 
 This hard attempt, awhile I pray you stay, 
 
 Till I a wild-fire of fine temper make, 
 
 That this great engine burn to ashes may ; 
 
 Haply the guard, that now doth watch and wake, 
 Will then lie tumbled sleeping on the lay. 
 
 Thus they conclude, and in their chambers sit 
 
 To wait the time for this adventure fit. 
 
 Clorinda there her silver arms off rent, 
 
 Her helm, her shield, her hawberk shining bright ; 
 An armour black as jet or coal she hent, 
 
 Wherein without a plume herself she dight; 
 For thus disguis'd amid her foes she meant 
 
 To pass unseen, by help of friendly night ; 
 To whom her eunuch, old Arsetes, came, 
 That from her cradle nurs'd and kept the dame. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK 
 
 This aged srre had followed far and near, [maid, 
 
 Through lands and seas, the strong and hardy 
 
 He saw her leave her arms and wonted gear, 
 Her danger nigh that sudden change foresaid: 
 
 By his white locks, from hlack that changed were 
 In fallowing her, the woeful man her pray'd, 
 
 By all his service and his taken pain, 
 
 To leave that fond attempt ; but pray'd iu vain. 
 
 xx. 
 
 At last quoth he Since, harden'd to thine ill, 
 Thy cruel heart is to thy loss prepared, 
 
 That my weak age, nor tears that down distil, 
 Nor humble suit, nor plaint, thou list regard ; 
 
 Attend awhile, strange things unfold I will, 
 Hear both thy birth and high estate dec lar'd $ 
 
 Follow my counsel, or thy will, that done. 
 
 She fit to hear, the eunuch thus begun : 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Senapus ruPd, and yet perchance doth reign, 
 In mighty Ethiope and her deserts waste; 
 
 The lore of Christ both he and all his train 
 Of people black hath kept and long ernbrac'd : 
 
 To him a Pagan was I sold for gain, 
 
 And with his queen (as her chief eunuch) plac'd. 
 
 Black was this queen as jet, yet on her eyes 
 
 Sweet loveliness in black attired lies. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The fire of love and frost of jealousy 
 
 Her husband's troubled soul alike torment; 
 
 The tide of food suspicion flowed high, 
 
 The foe to love, and plague to sweet content; 
 
 He mew'd her up from sight of mortal eye, 
 Nor day he would his beams on her had bent : 
 
 She (wise and lowly) by her husband's pleasure 
 
 Her joy, her peace, her will, her wish did measure. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEW. 49 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Her prison was a chamber, painted round 
 With goodly portraits aud with stories old : 
 
 As white as snow there stood a virgin bound 5 
 Beside, a dragon fierce ; a champion bold 
 
 The monster did with poignant spear through wound ; 
 The gored beast lay dead upon the mould. 
 
 The gentle queen before this image laid, [pray'd. 
 
 She plain' d, she rnouru'd, she wept, she sigh'd, she 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 At last with child she prov'd, and forth she brought 
 (And thou art she) a daughter fair and bright; 
 
 In her thy colour white new terror wrought, 
 She wonder'd on thy face with strange affrights 
 
 But yet she purpos'd in her fearful thought 
 To hide thee from the king thy father's sight, 
 
 Lest thy bright hue should his suspect approve, 
 
 For seld a crow begets a silver dove. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 And to her spouse to shew she was dispos'd 
 A negro's babe, late born, in room of thee 5 
 
 And for the tower wherein she lay enclosed 
 Was with her damsels only woud and me; 
 
 To me, on whose true faith she most repos'd, 
 She gave thee, ere thou couldest christen'd be; 
 
 Nor could I since find means thee to baptise, 
 
 In Pagan lands thou know'st it's not the guise. 
 
 XXVf. 
 
 To me she gave thee, and she wept withal!, 
 To foster thee in some far distant place : 
 
 Who can her griefs and plaints to reck'ning call, 
 How oft she swooued at the last embrace ! 
 
 Her streaming tears amid her kisses fall, 
 Her sighs her dire complaints did interlace: 
 
 And looking up at last O God ! quoth she, 
 
 Who dost my heart and inward mourning see, 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
OU THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 Xxvii. 
 If mind and body spotless to this day, 
 
 If I have kept ray bed still undefil'd, 
 (Not for myself, a sinful wretch, I pray, 
 
 That in thy presence am an abject vilde,) 
 Preserve this babe, whose mother must denay 
 
 To nourish it, preserve this harmless child ; 
 Oh let it live, and chaste like me it make, 
 But for good fortune elsewhere sample take. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Thou heav'nly soldier, which deliver'd hast 
 That sacred virgin from the serpent old, 
 
 If on thine altars I have offerings plac'd, 
 
 And sacrificed myrrh, frankinsense, and gold, 
 
 On this poor child thy heav'nly looks down cast, 
 With gracious eye this seelly babe behold. 
 
 This said, her strength and living sprite was fled, 
 
 She sigh'd, she groau'd, she swooned in her bed. 
 
 xxix. 
 
 Weeping I took thee ; in a little chest, 
 
 Covef'd with herbs and leaves, I brought thee out 
 So secretly, that none of all the rest 
 
 Of such an act suspicion had or doubt ; 
 To wilderness my steps I first address'd, 
 
 Where horrid shades inclos'd me round about: 
 A tygress there I met, in whose fierce eyes 
 Fury and wrath, rage, death, and terror lies. 
 
 xxx. 
 
 Up to a tree I leapt, and on the grass 
 (Such was my sudden fear) I left thee lying: 
 
 To thee the beast with furious course did pass, 
 With curious looks upon thy visage prying, 
 
 All suddenly both meek and mild she was. 
 With friendly cheer thy tender body eying; 
 
 At last she fick'd thee, and with gesture mild 
 
 About thee play'd, and Ihou upon her smil'd. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 5| 
 
 Her fearful muzzle, full of dreadful threat, 
 
 In thy weak hand thou took'st, withouten dread; 
 
 The gentle beast with milk out stretched teat 
 (As nurses custom) proffer'd thee to feed. 
 
 As one that wond'reth on some marvail great, 
 I stood this while amazed at the deed. 
 
 When thee she saw well fill'd and satisfied, 
 
 Unto the woods again the tygress hied. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 She gone, down from the tree I came in haste, 
 And took thee up, and on my journey wend. 
 
 Within a little thorpe I staid at last, 
 
 And to a nurse the charge of thee commend ; 
 
 And sporting with thee there long time I past, 
 Till term of sixteen months were brought to end, 
 
 And thou began (as little children do) 
 
 With half-dipt words to prattle, and to go. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 But having past the August of mine age, 
 When more than half my tap of life was run, 
 
 Rich by re wards given by your mother sage, 
 For merits past and service yet undone, 
 
 I long'd to leave this waud'ring pilgrimage, 
 And in my native soil again to won ; 
 
 To get some seely home I had desire, 
 
 Loth still to warm me at another's fire. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 To Egypt- ward, where I was born, I went, 
 Aod'bore thee with me by a rolling flood, 
 
 Till I with savage thieves well nigh was hent 
 Before the brook : the thieves behind me stood : 
 
 Thee to forsake I never could consent, 
 
 And gladly would I 'scape those outlaws wood : 
 
 Into the flood I leapt far from the brim, 
 
 My left hand bore thee, with the right I swim. 
 E 2 
 
52 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 Swift was the current ; in the middle stream 
 A whirlpool gaped with devouring jaws, 
 
 The gulph (on such mishap ere I could dream) 
 Into his deep abyss my carcase draws : 
 
 There I forsook thee; the wild waters seem 
 To pity thee ; a gentle wind there blows, 
 
 Whose friendly puffs safe to the shore thee drive, 
 
 Where wet and weary I at last arrive. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 I took thee up, and in my dream that night 
 (When buried was the world in sleep and shade) 
 
 I saw a champion clad in armour bright, 
 That o'er my head shaked a flaming blade : 
 
 He said I charge thee execute aright 
 
 That charge this infant's mother on thee laid ; 
 
 Baptise the child, high Heav'n esteems her dear, 
 
 And 1 her keeper will attend her near : 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 I will her keep, defend, save, and protect ; 
 I made the waters mild, the tygress tame : 
 
 wretch, that heav'nly warnings doth reject! 
 The warrior vanished, having said the same. 
 
 1 rose and journey M on my way direct, 
 
 When blushing morn from Titan's bed forth came; 
 But, for ray faith is true and sure I ween, 
 And dreams are false, you still unchristened been. 
 
 xxxviii. 
 
 A Pagan, therefore, thee I fostered have, 
 Nor of thy birth the truth did ever tell. 
 
 Since you increased are in courage brave, 
 Your sex and nature's self you both excel ; 
 
 Full many a realm have you made bond and slave, 
 Your fortunes last yourself remember well, 
 
 And how in peace and war, in joy and teen, 
 
 I have your servant and your tutor been. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 3 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Last morn, from skies ere stars exiled were, 
 
 In deep and death-like sleep my senses drown'd, 
 The self-same vision did again appear, 
 
 With stormy wrathful looks and thund'ring sound- 
 Villain, quoth he, within short while thy dear 
 
 Must change her life and leave this sinful ground ; 
 Thine be the loss, the torment, and the care. [air. 
 This said, he fled through skies, through clouds, and 
 
 XL. 
 Hear then, my joy, my hope, my darling, hear ! 
 
 High heav'n some dire misfortune threatened hath, 
 Displeas'd, pardie, because I did thee lear 
 
 A lore repugnant to thy parents' faith. 
 Ah ! for my sake this bold attempt forbear; 
 
 Put off these sable arms, appease thy wrath. 
 This said, h wept: she pensive stood and sad, 
 Because like dream herself but lately had. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 With cheerful smile she answered him at last 
 1 will this faith observe, it seems me true, 
 
 Which from my cradle age thou taught me hast; 
 I will not change it for religion new, 
 
 Nor with vain shows of fear and dread aghast, 
 This enterprize f ;rbear I to pursue; 
 
 No, not if death, in his most dreadful face 
 
 Wherewith he scareth mankind, kept the place. 
 XLII. 
 
 Approaching 'gan the time (while thus she spake) 
 
 Wherein they ought that dreadful hazard try. 
 She to Argantes went, who should partake 
 
 ' Of her renown and praise, or with her die. 
 Ismen, with words more hasty, still did make 
 Their virtue great, which by itself did fly; 
 Two balls he gave them made of hollow brass, 
 Wherein incios'd fire, pitch, and brimstone was. 
 
d4 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 And forth they went, and over dale and hill 
 They hasted forward with a speedy pace, 
 
 Unseen, unmarked, undescried, until 
 
 Beside Ihe engine close themselves they place: 
 
 New courage there their swelling hearts did fill, 
 Rage in their breasts, fury shone in their face, 
 
 Thejr yearn'd to blow the fire and draw the sword ; 
 
 The watch descried them both, and gave the word. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Silent they passed on ; the watch begun 
 To rear a huge alarm with hideous cries ; 
 
 Therewith the hardy couple forward run 
 To execute their valiant enterprize : 
 
 So from a cannon or a roaring gun 
 At once the noise, the flame, and bullet flies. 
 
 They run, they give the charge, begin the fray, 
 
 And all at once their foes break, spoil, and slay. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 They passed first through thousand thousand blows. 
 And then performed their designments bold ; 
 
 A fiery ball each on the engine throws ; 
 
 The stuff was dry, the fire took quickly hold ; 
 
 Furious upon the timber work it grows ; 
 How it increased cannot well be told, 
 
 How it crept up the peece, and how to skies 
 
 The burning sparks and tow'ring smoke upflies. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 A mass of solid fire, burning bright, 
 
 RoHM up in smould'ring fumes there bursteth out ; 
 And there the blust'ring winds add strength and might, 
 
 And gather close the 'spersed flames about. 
 The Frenchmen trembled at the dreadful sigbt, 
 
 To arms in haste and fear ran all the rout : 
 Down fell the peece, dreaded so much in war; 
 Thus, what long days doth make one hour doth mar. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 55 
 
 Two Christian bands this while came to the place 
 With speedy haste, where they beheld the fire ; 
 
 Argantes to them cried with scornful grace 
 
 Your blood shall quench these flames and quench 
 
 This said, the Maid and he with sober pace [mine ire: 
 Drew back, and to the bank themselves retire. 
 
 Faster then brooks which falling showers increase 
 
 Their foes augment, and faster on them prease. 
 XLVIII. 
 
 The golden port, was open'd, and forth stept, 
 With all his soldiers bold, the Turkish king, 
 
 Ready to aid them two his force he kept, [bring 
 When fortune should them home with conquest 
 
 Over the bars the hardy couple leapt, 
 
 And after them a band of Christians fling, 
 
 Whom Soliman drove back with courage stout, 
 
 And shut the gate, but shut Clorinda out. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Alone was she shut forth, for in that hour 
 
 Wherein they clos'd the port, the virgin went, 
 
 And, full of heat and wrath, her strength and power 
 'Gainst Arimon (that struck her erst) she bent. 
 
 She slew the knight ; nor Argant, in that slower, 
 Wist of her parting or her fierce intent ; 
 
 The fight, the prease, the night, and darksome skies, 
 
 Care from his heart had ta'en, sight from his eyes. 
 L. 
 
 But when appeased was her angry mood, 
 Her fury calm'd, and settled was her head. 
 
 She saw the gates were shut, and how she stood 
 Amid her foes, she held herself for dead. 
 
 While none her mark'd, at last she thought it good 
 To save her life some other path to tread ; 
 
 She feigned her one of them, and close she drew 
 
 Amid the prease, that none her saw nor knew. 
 
06 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Then as a wolf, guilty of some misdeed, 
 
 Flies to some grove to hide himself from view, 
 
 So, favoured with the night, with secret speed, 
 Dissevered from the prease, the damsel flew. 
 
 Tancred alone of her escape took heed ; 
 He on that quarter was arrived new ; 
 
 When Ariroon she kili'd he thither came, 
 
 He saw it, mark'd it, and pursued the dame : 
 LII. 
 
 Hedeem'd she was some man of mickle might, 
 And on her person would he worship win. 
 
 Over the hills the nymph her journey (light, 
 Towards another port, there to get in. 
 
 With hideous noise fast after spurr'd the knight. 
 She heard and stay'd, and thus her words begin : 
 
 What haste hast thou ? ride softly; take thy breath ; 
 
 What bringest thou ? He aniwer'd, War and death. 
 LIII. 
 
 And war and death (quoth she) here may'st thou get, 
 If thou for battle come : with that she stay'd. 
 
 Tancred to ground his foot in haste down set, 
 And left his steed ; on foot he saw the maid. 
 
 Their courage hot, their ire and wrath they whet, 
 And either champion drew a trenchant blade : 
 
 Together ran they and together struck, 
 
 Like two fierce bulls whom rage and love provoke. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Worthy of royal lists and brightest day, 
 Worthy a golden trump and laurel crown, 
 
 The actions were and wonders of that fray, 
 Which sable night did in dark bosom drown. 
 
 Yet, night, consent that I their acts display, 
 And make their deeds to future ages known, 
 
 And in records of long-enduring story, 
 
 Enrol their praise, their fame, their worth, aud glory. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 57 
 
 They neither shrunk nor 'vantage sought of ground, 
 They travers'd not nor skipt from part to part, 
 
 Their blows were neither false nor feigned found ; 
 The night, their rage, would let them use no art ; 
 
 Their swords together clash with dreadful sound, 
 Their feet stand fast, and neither stir nor start; 
 
 They move their hands, stedfast their feet remain, 
 
 Nor blow nor foin they struck or thrust in vain. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Shame bred desire a sharp revenge to take, 
 
 And veng'ance taken gave new cause of shame ; 
 
 So that with haste and little heed they strake, 
 Fuel enough they had to feed the flame. 
 
 At last so close their battle fierce they make, 
 
 They could not wield their swords so nigh they came ; 
 
 They us'd the hilts, and each on other rush'd, 
 
 And hehn to helm and shield to shield they crush'd. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Thrice his strong arms he folds about her waist. 
 And thrice was forc'd to let the virgin go, 
 
 For she disdained to be so embrae'd, 
 
 No lover would have strain'd his mistress so: 
 
 They took their swords again, and each enchac'd 
 Deep wounds in the soft fiesh of his strong foe ; 
 
 Till weak and weary, faint, alive, uneath 
 
 They both retir'd at once, at once took breath : 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Each other long beheld, and leaning stood 
 Upon their swords, whose points in earth were pight, 
 
 When day-break rising from the eastern flood, 
 Put forth the thousand eyes of blindfold night: 
 
 Tancred beheld his foe's out streaming hiood 
 
 And gaping wounds, and wax'd proud with thesij 
 O vanity of man's unstable mind, 
 Puft up with every blast of friendly wind I 
 
 Sht 
 
58 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 Why joy'st tliou wretch ? O what shall be thy gain ? 
 
 What trophy for this conquest is't thou rears ? 
 Thine eyes shall shed (in case thou be not slain) 
 
 For every drop of blood a sea of tears. 
 The bleeding warriors leaning thus remain, 
 
 Each one to speak one word long time forbears ; 
 Tancred the silence broke at last, and said, 
 (For he would know with whom this fight he made :) 
 
 LX. 
 
 Ill is our chance, and hard our fortune is, 
 Who here in silence and in shade debate, 
 
 Where light of sun and witness all we miss, 
 That should our prowess and our praise dilate: 
 
 If words in arms find place, yet grant me this, 
 Tell me thy name, thy country, and estate, 
 
 That I may know (this dang'rous combat done) 
 
 W r hom 1 haveconquer'd, or who halh me won. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 What I nill tell you ask (quoth she) in vain, 
 
 Nor mov'd by prayer, nor constrain'd by power; 
 
 But this much know, T am one of those twain 
 Who late with kindled fire destroy 'd the tower. 
 
 Tancred, at her proud words, sweli'd with disdain: 
 That hast thou said (quoth he) in evil hour ; 
 
 Thy vaunting speeches, and thy silence both, 
 
 Uncivil wretch, hath made ury heart more wroth. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Ire in their chafed breasts renew'd the fray ; 
 
 Fierce was the fight, though feeble was theirmiglit; 
 Their strength was gone, their cunning was away, 
 
 And fury in their stead maintain'd the fight : 
 Their swords both points and edges sharp embay 
 
 In purple blood whereso they hit or light ; 
 And if weak life yet in their bosoms lie, 
 They liv'd because they both disdain' d to die. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 59 
 
 As ^Egean's seas, when storms be calnVd again 
 
 That roll'd their tumbling waves with troublous 
 
 Do yet of tempests past some show retain, [blast, 
 And here and there their swelling billows cast ; 
 
 So, though their strength were gone, and might were 
 Of their first fierceness still the fury lasts ; [vain, 
 
 Wherewith sustain'd, they to their tackling stood, 
 
 And heaped wound on wound, and blood on blood. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 But now, alas ! the fatal hour arrives 
 
 That her sweet life must leave that tender hold; 
 His sword into her bosom deep he drives, 
 
 And bath'd in lukewarm blood his iron cold ; 
 Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives 
 
 Her curious square embost with swelling gold : 
 Her knees grow weak, the pains of death she feels, 
 And, like a failing cedar, bends and reels. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 The Prince his hand upon her shield doth stretch, 
 And low on earth the wounded damsel laith, 
 
 And while she fell, with weak and woeful speech 
 Her prayers last and last complaints she saith : 
 
 A spirit new did her those prayers teach, 
 Spirit of hope, of charity, and faith ; 
 
 And though her life to Christ rebellious were, 
 
 Yet died she his child and handmaid dear. 
 
 Friend, thoii hast won ; I pardon thee ; nor save 
 This body that all torments can endure, 
 
 But save my soul ; baptism I dying crave, 
 Come wash away my sins with waters pure. - 
 
 His heart relenting nigh in sunder rave, 
 
 With woeful speech of that sweet creature ; 
 
 So that his rage, his wrath, and anger died, 
 
 And on his cheeks salt tears for ruth down slide. 
 
60 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 With murmur loud down from the mountain's side 
 A little runnel tumMed near the place, 
 
 Thither he ran atfd fill'd his helmet wide. 
 
 And quick return'd to do that work of grace: 
 
 "With trembling hands her beaver he untied, 
 Which done, he saw, and seeing knew her face, 
 
 And lost therewith his speech and moving quite; 
 
 O woeful knowledge! ah unhappy sight ! 
 
 LXVI1I. 
 
 He died not, but all his strength unites, 
 And to his virtues gave his heart in guard ; 
 
 Bridling his grief, with water he requites 
 The life that he bereft with iron hard : 
 
 And while the sacred words the knight recites, 
 The nymph to heav'n with joy herself prepar'd ; 
 
 And as her life decays her joys increase; 
 
 She smil'd and said- Farewell ! 1 die in peace. 
 LXIX. 
 
 As violets blue 'mongst lilies pure men throw, 
 So paleness 'midst her native white begun. 
 
 Her looks to heav'n she cast ; their eyes, I trow* 
 Downward for pity bent both heav'n and sun. 
 
 Her naked hand she gave the knight, in show 
 Of love and peace ; her speech, alas ! was done. 
 
 And thus the virgin fell on endless sleep ; 
 
 Love, beauty, virtue, for your darling weep ! 
 LXX. 
 
 But when he saw her gentle soul was went, 
 
 His manly courage to relent began ; 
 Grief, sorrow, anguish, sadness, discontent, 
 
 Free empire got aiid lordship on the man, 
 His life within his heart they close up pent, 
 
 Death through his senses and his visage ran ; 
 Like his dead Lndy dead seem'd Tancred good, 
 In paleness, stillness, wounds, and streams of blood: 
 
BOOK XII. Of JERUSALEM. 61 
 
 And his weak sprite (to be unbodied 
 
 From fleshly prison free that ceaseless strived) 
 
 Had followed her fair soul but lately fled, 
 Had not a Christian squadron there arrived, 
 
 To seek fresh water thither haply led, 
 
 And found the Princess dead, and him deprived 
 
 Of signs of life; yet did the knight remain 
 
 On live, nigh dead, for her himself had slain. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Their guide far off the Prince knew by his shield, 
 And thither hasted full of grief and fear, 
 
 Her dead, him seeming so, he there beheld, 
 And for that strange mishap shed many a tear: 
 
 He would not leave the corses fair in field 
 
 For food to wolves, though she a Pagan were, 
 
 But in their arms the soldiers both uphent, 
 
 And both lamenting brought to Tancred's tent. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 With these dear burdens to their camp they pass, 
 
 Yet would not that dead-seeming knight awake; 
 At last be deeply groan'd, which token was 
 
 His feeble soul had not her flight yet take: 
 The other lay a still and heavy mass, 
 
 Her spirit had that earthen cage forsake. 
 Thus were they brought, and thus they placed were 
 In sundry rooms, yet both adjoining near. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 All skill and art his careful servants used 
 To life again their dying lord to bring; 
 
 At last his eyes unclos'd, with tears suffused, 
 He felt their hands and heard their whispering; 
 
 But how he thither came long time he mused, 
 His mind astonish'd was with every thing: 
 
 He gaz'd about, his squires in fine he knew, 
 
 Then weak and woeful thus his plaints out threw: 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 What ! live I yet ? and do I breathe and see 
 Of this accursed day the hateful light, 
 
 This spitefuj ray which still uphraideth me 
 With that accursed deed I did this night ? 
 
 Ah, coward hand ! afraid why shouUTst thou be ? 
 (Thou instrument of death, shame, and despite !) 
 
 Why should'st thou fear, with sharp and trenchant 
 
 To cut the thread of this blood-guilty life ! [knife 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Pierce through this bosom, and ray cruel heart 
 In pieces cleave, break every string and vein ! 
 
 But thou, to slaughters vile which used art, 
 Think'st it were pity so to ease my pain : 
 
 Of luckless love therefore in torments smart 
 A sad example must I still remain ; 
 
 A woeful monster of unhappy love, 
 
 Who still must live, lest death his comfort prove : 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Still must I live in anguish, grief, and care ; 
 
 Furies my guilty conscience that torment, 
 The ugly shades, dark night, and troubled air, 
 
 In grissly forms her slaughter still present ; 
 Madness and death about my bed repair, 
 
 Hell gapeth wide to swallow up this tent; 
 Swift from myself I run, myself 1 fear, 
 Yet still my hell within myself I bear. 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 But where, alas ! where be those relics sweet, 
 Wherein dwelt late all love, all joy, all good ? 
 
 My fury left them cast in open street ; 
 
 Some beast hath torn her flesh and lick'd her blood, 
 
 Ah ! noble prey for savage beast unmeet ! 
 
 Ah ! sweet, too sweet, and far too precious food ! 
 
 Ah ! seely nymph ! whom night and darksome shade 
 
 To beasts and me (far worse than beasts) betray 'd. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 3 
 
 But where you be, if still you be, I wend 
 To gather up those relics dear at least : 
 
 But if some beast hath from the hills descend, 
 And on her tender bowels made his feast, 
 
 Let that self monster me in pieces rend, 
 And deep entomb me in his hollow chest ; 
 
 For where she buried is there shall I have 
 
 A stately tomb, a rich and costly grave.- 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Thus mourn'd the knight : his squires him told at last 
 They had her there for whom these tears he shed : 
 
 A beam of comfort his dim eyes outcast, [spread; 
 Like lightning" through thick clouds of (darkness 
 
 The heavy burden of his limbs in haste. 
 
 With mickle pain, he drew forth of his bed, 
 
 And scant of strength to stand, to move, or go, 
 
 Thither he stagger'd, reeling to and fro. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 When he came there and in her breast espied 
 
 (His.handiwork) that deep and cruel wound, 
 And her sweet face with leaden paleness dyed, 
 . Where beauty late spread forth her beams around, 
 He trembled so, that near his squires beside 
 
 To hold him up, he had sunk down to ground ; 
 And said face ! in death still sweet and fair, 
 Thou canst not sweeten yet my grief and care. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 fair right hand ! the pledge of faith and love, 
 Given me but late, too late, in sign of peace, 
 
 How haps it now thou can'st not stir nor move ? 
 And you, dear limbs! now laid in rest and ease, 
 
 Through which my cruel blade this flood-gate rove, 
 Your pains have end, my torments never csase : 
 
 O hands! O cruel eyes ! accurs'd alike, 
 
 You gave the wound, you gave them light to strike : 
 
64 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 But thither now run forth my guilty blood, 
 
 Whither my plaints, ray sorrows cannot weud. 
 
 He said no more ; but, as bis passion wood 
 Enforced him, he 'gan to tear and rend 
 
 His hair, his face, his wounds; a purple flood 
 Did from each side in rolling streams descend: 
 
 He had been slain, but that his pain and woe 
 
 Bereft his senses, and preserv'd him so. 
 
 LXXXIT. 
 
 Cast on his bed, his squires recall'd his sprite 
 To execute again her hateful charge : 
 
 But tattling fame the sorrows of the knight, 
 
 And hard mischance, had told this while at large. 
 
 Godfrey and all his Lords of worth and might 
 Ran thither, and the duty would discharge 
 
 Of friendship true, and with sweet words the rage 
 
 Of bitter grief and woe they would assuage. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 But as a mortal wound the more doth smart 
 The more it searched is, handled, or sought, 
 
 So their sweet words to his afflicted heart 
 Moregrief, more anguish, pain, and torment brought. 
 
 But reverend Peter, that nould set apart 
 Care of his sheep, as a good shepherd ought, 
 
 His vanity with grave advice reproved, 
 
 And told what mourning Christian knights behoved. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 O Tancred, Tancred ! how far different 
 From thy beginnings good these follies be ! 
 
 What makes thee deaf? what hath thy eyesight blent? 
 What mist, what cloud thus overshadeth thee ? 
 
 This is a warning good from heaven down sent, 
 Yet His advice thou can'st not hear nor see, 
 
 Who calleth and conducts thee to the way 
 
 From which thou willing dost and witting stray : 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 65 
 
 To worthy actions and achievements fit 
 
 For Christian knights He would thee home recall, 
 
 But thou hast left that course and changed it 
 To make thyself a heathen damsel's thrall: 
 
 But see, thy grief and sorrows' painful fit 
 Is made the rod to scourge thy sins withall ; 
 
 Of thine own good thyself the means He makes, 
 
 But thou His mercy, goodness, grace forsakes : 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 Thou dost refuse of Heav'n the proffer'd grace, 
 And 'gainst it still rehel with sinful ire; 
 
 O wretch ! O whither doth thy rage thee chase ? 
 Refrain thy grief, bridle thy fond desire; 
 
 At hell's wide gate vain sorrow doth thee place, 
 Sorrow, misfortune's son, despair's foul sire : 
 
 O see thine ill, thy plaint and woe refrain, 
 
 The guides to death, to hell, and endless pain. - 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 This said, his will to die the patient 
 
 Abandoned, that second death he feared, 
 
 These words of comfort to his heart down went, 
 And that dark night of sorrow somewhat cleared ; 
 
 Yet now and then his grief deep sighs forth sent, 
 His voice shrill plaints and sad laments oft reared ; 
 
 Now to himself, now to his murder'd love, 
 
 He spoke, who heard perchance from heav'n above. 
 
 xc. 
 
 Till Phoebus' rising, from his evening fall, 
 To her, for her, he mourns, he calls, he cries. 
 
 The nightingale so, when her children small 
 Some churle takes before their parent's eyes, 
 
 Alone, dismay'd, quite bare of comforts all, 
 
 Tires with complaints the seas, the shores, the skies, 
 
 Till in sweet sleep against the morning bright 
 
 She fall at last ; so mourn'd, so slept the knight : 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK Xl 
 
 And clad in starry veil, amid his dream [maid, 
 
 (For whose sweet sake he mourn'd) appeared the 
 
 Fairer than erst, yet with that heav'nly beam, 
 Not out of knowledge was her lovely shade; 
 
 With looks of ruth her eyes celestial seem 
 To pity his sad plight, and thus she said : 
 
 Behold how fair how glad thy love appears, 
 
 And for my sake, my dear, forbear these tears : 
 
 XCII. 
 
 Thine be the thanks, my soul thou madest flit 
 
 At unawares out of her earthly nest ; 
 Thine be the thanks, thou hast advanced it 
 
 In Abraham's dear bosom long to rest ; 
 There still I love thee, therefor Tancred fit 
 
 A seat prepared is among the bless'd ; 
 There in eternal joy, eternal light, 
 Thou shall thy love enjoy, and she her knight ; 
 
 MB. 
 
 Unless thyself thyself heav'ns joys envy, 
 And thy vain sorrow thee of bliss deprive : 
 
 Live ; know I love thee, that I nill deny, 
 As angels men, as saints may wights alive. 
 
 This said, of zeal and love forth of her eye 
 An hundred glorious beams bright shining drive, 
 
 Amid which rays herself she clos'd from sight, 
 
 And with new joy new comfort left her knight. 
 
 xciv. 
 
 Thus comforted he wak'd, and men discreet 
 In surgery to cure his wounds were sought. 
 
 Meanwhile of his dear love the relics sweet 
 
 (As best he could) to grave with pomp he brought. 
 
 Her tomb was not of varied Spartan grit, 
 Nor yet by cunning hand of Scopas wrought, 
 
 But built of polish'd stone, and thereon laid 
 
 The lively shape and portrait of the maid. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 67 
 
 With sacred burning lamps in order long [ground ; 
 
 And mournful pomp the corpse was brought to 
 Her arms upon a leafless pine were hong, 
 
 The hearse with cypress, arms with laurel crown'd. 
 Next day the Prince (whose love and courage strong 
 
 Drew forth his limbs, weak, feeble, and unsound) 
 To visit went, with care and rev'rence meet, 
 The buried ashes of his mistress sweet. 
 
 Before her new-made tomb at last arrived, 
 The woeful prison of his living spright, 
 
 Pale, cold, sad, comfortless, of sense deprived, 
 Upon the marble grey he fix'd his sight; 
 
 Two streams of tears were from his eyes derived: 
 Thus, with a sad alas, began the knight : 
 
 Oh, marble dear ! on my dear mistress plac'd, 
 
 My flames within, without my tears thou hast ; 
 
 xcvn. 
 
 Not of dead bones art thou the mournful grave, 
 But of quick love the fortress and the hold ; 
 
 Still in my heart thy wonted brand I have, 
 More bitter far, alas ! but not more cold. 
 
 Receive these sighs, these kisses sweet receive, 
 In liquid drops of melting tears enroll'd, 
 
 And give them to that body pure and chaste 
 
 Which in thy bosom cold entomb'd thou hast: 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 For if her happy soul her eye doth bend 
 On that sweet body which it lately dress'd, 
 
 My love, thy pity, cannot her offend, 
 Anger and wrath is not in angels bless' d ; 
 
 She pardon will the trespass of her friend, 
 
 That hope relieves me with these griefs oppressed 5 
 
 This hand she knows hath only sinn'd, not I, 
 
 Who living lov'd her, and for love now die ; 
 F 2 
 
68 THE RECOVERY BOOK XII. 
 
 And loving will I die ; O happy day 
 
 Whene'er it chanceth ! hut far more blest, 
 
 If as about thy polish'd sides I stray, 
 
 My bones within thy hollow grave might rest ; 
 
 Together should in heav'n our spirits stay, 
 Together should our bodies lie in chest ; 
 
 So happy death should join what life doth sever: 
 
 O death ! O life ! sweet both, both blessed ever.- 
 
 Meanwhile the news in that besieged town 
 Of this mishap was whisper'd here and there ; 
 
 Forthwith it spread, and for too true was known, 
 Her woeful loss was talked everywhere, 
 
 Mingled with cries and plaints to heaven up thrown, 
 As if the city's self new taken were 
 
 With conqu'ring foes, or as if flame and fire 
 
 Nor house, nor church, nor street had left entire. 
 
 ci. 
 
 But all men's eyes were on Arsetes bent ; 
 
 His sighs were deep, his looks full of despair ; 
 Out of his woeful eyes no tears there went, 
 
 His heart was hardened with his too much care ; 
 Bis silver locks with dust he foul besprent, 
 
 He knock'd his breast, his face he rent and tare; 
 And while the prease flock'd to the eunuch old, 
 Thus to the people spake Argantes bold : 
 
 en. 
 
 I would, when first I knew the hardy maid 
 Excluded was among her Christian foes, 
 
 Have follow'd her to give her timely aid. 
 Or by her side this breath and life to lose. 
 
 What did I not, or what left T unsaid, 
 
 To make the King the gates again unclose ? 
 
 But he denied ; his power did aye restrain 
 
 My will, my suit was waste, my speech was vain. 
 
BOOK XII. OF JERUSALEM. 69 
 
 Ah ! had I gone, I would from danger free 
 Have brought to Sion that sweet nymph again. 
 
 Or in the bloody fight, where kill'd was she, 
 In her defence there nobly have been slain. 
 
 But what could I do more ? The counsels be 
 Of God and man 'gainst my designmeuts plain. 
 
 Dead is Clorinda fair, laid in cold grave, 
 
 Let me revenge her whom I could not save. 
 
 civ. 
 
 Hierusalern ! hear what Argantes sailh ; 
 
 Hear heav'n ! and if he break his oath and word, 
 Upon this head cast thunder in thy wrath ; 
 
 I will destroy and kill that Christian Lord, 
 Who this fair dame by night thus murder'd hath ; 
 
 Nor from my side I will ungird this sword, 
 Till Tancred's heart it cleave and shed his blood, 
 And leave his corse to wolves and crows for food. 
 
 This said, the people with a joyful shout 
 
 Applaud his speeches and his words approve. 
 
 And calm'd their grief, in hope the boaster stout 
 Would kill the Prince who late had slain his love. 
 
 O promise vain ! it otherwise fell out. 
 
 Men purpose, but high Gods dispose above; 
 
 For underneath his sword this boaster died, 
 
 Whom thus he scorn'd and threaten'd in his pride. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 BOOK XIII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Ismeno sets, to guard the forest old. 
 
 The wicked sprites, whose ugly shapes affray 17 
 
 And put to flight the men, whose labour would 
 
 To their dark shades let in heav'n's golden ray. 
 Thither goes Tancred, hardy, faithful, bold; 32 
 
 But foolish pity lets him not assay 40 
 
 His strength and courage. Heat the Christian power 52 
 Annoys, whom to refresh God sends a shower. 74 
 
 BUT scant dissolved into ashes cold 
 
 The smoking tower fell on the scorched grass, 
 When new device found out th' enchanter old, 
 
 By which the town besieg'd secured was. 
 Of timber fit his foes deprive he would ; 
 
 Such terror bred that late-consumed mass; 
 So that, the strength of Sion's walls to shake, 
 They should no turrets, rams, nor engines make. 
 
 n. 
 
 From Godfrey's camp a grove a little way, 
 Amid the valleys deep, grows out of sight, 
 
 Thick with old trees, whose horrid arms display 
 An ugly shade, like everlasting night: 
 
 There, when the sun spreads forth his clearest ray, 
 Dim, thick, uncertain, gloomy seems the light; 
 
 As when, in ev'ning, day and darkness strive 
 
 Which should his foe from our horizon drive. 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 71 
 
 But when the sun his chair in seas doth steep, 
 Night, horror, darkness thick, the place invade, 
 
 Which veil the mortal eyes with blindness deep, 
 And with sad terror make weak hearts afraid. 
 
 Thither no groom drives forth his tender sheep 
 To browze, or ease their faint in cooling shade ; 
 
 Nor traveller nor pilgrim there to enter 
 
 (So awful seems that forest old) dare venture. 
 
 IV. 
 
 United there the ghosts and goblins meet 
 To frolic with their mates in silent night ; 
 
 With dragon wings some cleave the welkin fleet, 
 Some nimbly run o'er hills and valleys light; 
 
 A wicked troop that with allurement sweet 
 
 Draws sinful man from what is good and right; 
 
 And there, with hellish pomp their banquets brought, 
 
 They solemnise : thus the vain Pagans thought. 
 
 v. 
 
 No twist, no twig, no bough, nor branch, therefore, 
 The Saracines cut from that sacred spring; 
 
 But yet the Christians spared ne'er the more 
 The trees to earth with cutting steel to bring. 
 
 Thither went Ismen old with tresses hoar, 
 
 When night on all this earth spread forth her wing; 
 
 And there, in silence deaf and mirksome shade, 
 
 His characters and circles vain he made. 
 
 He in the circle set one foot unshod, 
 
 And whisper'd dreadful charms in ghastly wise; 
 
 Three times (for witchcraft loveth numbers odd) 
 Toward the east he gaped, westward thrice: 
 
 He struck the earth thrice with his charmed rod, 
 Wherewith dead bones he makes from graves to rise : 
 
 And thrice the ground with naked foot he smote, 
 
 Aud thus he cried loud with thund'ring note : 
 
72 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Hear ! hear ! ye spirits all that whilome fell, 
 
 Castdown from heav'n with dint of roaring thunder; 
 
 Hear ! ye amid the empty air that dwell, [under; 
 And storms and show'rs pour on these kingdoms 
 
 Hear ! all ye devils that lie in deepest hell, 
 
 And rend with torments damned ghosts asunder; 
 
 And of those lands of death, of pain, and fear, 
 
 Thou monarch great, great Dis, great Pluto, hear ! 
 
 Keep ye this forest well, keep every tree ; 
 
 Number'd I give you them, and truly told ; 
 As souls of men in bodies clothed be, 
 
 So every plant a sprite shall hide and hold : 
 With trembling fear make all the Christians flee, 
 
 When they presume to cut these cedars old. 
 This said, his charms he 'gan again repeat, 
 Which none can say but they that use like feat. 
 
 IX. 
 
 At those strange speeches, still night's splendent fires 
 Quenched their lights, and shrunk away for doubt; 
 
 The feeble moon her silver beams retires, 
 
 And wraps her horns with folding clouds about. 
 
 Ismen his sprites to come with speed requires : 
 Why come ye not, ye ever damned rout ? 
 
 Why tarry ye so long ? pardie ye stay 
 
 Till stronger charms and greater words I say. 
 
 x. 
 
 I have not yet forgot for want of use 
 
 What dreadful terms belong this sacred feat ; 
 
 My tongue (if still your stubborn hearts refuse) 
 That so much dreaded name can well repeat, 
 
 Which heard, great Dis cannot himself excuse, 
 But hither run from his eternal seat : 
 
 O great and fearful ! More he would have said, 
 
 But that he saw the sturdy sprites obey'd. 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 73 
 
 Legions of devils by thousands thither come; 
 
 Such as in sparsed air their biding make ; 
 And thousands also which by heavenly doom 
 
 Condemned lie in deep Avernus' lake : 
 But slow they came, displeased all and some 
 
 Because those woods they should in keeping t^ke; 
 Yet they obey'd and took the charge in hand, 
 And under every branch and leaf they stand. 
 
 XII. 
 
 When thus his cursed work performed was, 
 The wizard to his King declar'd the feat: 
 
 My lord, let fear, let doubt and sorrow pass, 
 Henceforth in safety stands your regal seat: 
 
 Your foe (as he supposed) no mean now has 
 To build again his rams and engines great. 
 
 And then he told at large from part to part 
 
 All what he late performed by wond'rous art. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Besides this help, another hap (quoth he) 
 
 Will shortly chance that brings not profit small ; 
 
 Within few days Mars and the Sun I see 
 Their fiery beams unite in Leo shall ; 
 
 And then extreme the scorching heat will be, 
 
 Which neither rain can quench nor dews that fall; 
 
 So placed are the planets high and low, 
 
 That heat, fire, burning, all the heav'ns foreshow; 
 
 xiv. 
 
 So great with us will be the warmth therefore, 
 As with the Garamantes or those of Inde; 
 
 Yet nill it grieve us in this tovrn so sore, 
 
 We have sweet shade and waters cold by kind : 
 
 Our foes abroad will be tormented more; 
 
 What shield can they or what refreshing find ? 
 
 Heav'n will them vanquish tirst, then Egypt's crew 
 
 Destroy them quite, weak, weary, faint, and few. 
 
74 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 Thou shall sit still and conquer j prove no more 
 The doubtful hazard of uncertain fight; 
 
 But if Argantes hold (that hates so sore 
 
 All cause of quiet peace, though just and right) 
 
 Provoke thee forth to battaile as before, 
 
 Find means to calm the rage of that fierce knight; 
 
 For shortly heav'n will send thee ease and peace, 
 
 And war and trouble 'mongst thy foes increase. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The King, assured by these speeches fair, [scorn : 
 Held Godfrey's power, his might, and strength, in 
 
 And now the walls he 'gan in part repair, 
 
 Which late the ram had hruis'd with iron horn: 
 
 With wise foresight and well-advised care 
 He fortified each breach and bulwark torn; 
 
 And all his folk, men, women, children small, 
 
 With endless toil again repair'd the wall. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But Godfrey nould this while bring forth his power 
 To give assault against that fort in vain, 
 
 Till he had builded new his dreadful tower, 
 And reared high his down-fali'n rams again. 
 
 His workmen therefore he dispatch'd that hour, 
 To hew the trees out of the forest main. 
 
 They went, and scant the wood appear'd in sight 
 
 When wonders new their fearful hearts affright. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 As seely children dare not bend their eye 
 
 Where they are told strange bugbears haunt the 
 
 Or as new monsters, while in bed they lie, [place; 
 Their fearful thoughts present before their face; 
 
 So feared they and fled, yet wist not why, 
 
 Nor what pursu'd them in that fearful chace ; 
 
 Except their fear perchance, while thus they fled, 
 
 New chimaers, sphinxes, or like monsters bred. 
 
JJOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 75 
 
 Swift to the camp they turned back dismay'd, 
 With words confus'd uncertain tales they told, 
 
 That all which heard them scorned what they said, 
 And these reports for lies and fahles hold. 
 
 A chosen crew, in shining arms array'd, 
 Duke Godfrey thither sent of soldiers bold, 
 
 To guard the men, and their faint arms provoke, 
 
 To cut the dreadful trees with hardy stroke. 
 xx. 
 
 These drawing near the wood, where close ypent 
 The wicked sprites in sylvan pinfolds were, 
 
 Their eyes upon those shades no sooner bent, 
 
 But frozen dread pierc'd through their entrails dear. 
 
 Yet on they stalked still and on they went, 
 Under bold semblance hiding coward fear, 
 
 And so far wander'd forth with trembling pace 
 
 Till they approach'd nigh that enchanted place: 
 xxi. 
 
 When from the grove a fearful sound out breaks, 
 As if some earthquake hill and mountain tore, 
 
 Wherein the southern wind a rumbling makes, 
 Or like sea waves against the craggy shore : 
 
 There lions grumble, there hiss scaly snakes, 
 
 There howl the wolves, the rugged bears there roar, 
 
 There trumpets shrill are heard and thunders fell, 
 
 And all these sounds one sound expressed well. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Upon their faces pale well might you note 
 A thousand signs of heart-amating fear ; 
 
 Their reason gone, by no device they wote 
 
 How to prease nigh or stay still where they were; 
 
 Against that sudden dread their breasts which smote, 
 Their courage weak no shield of proof could bear: 
 
 At last they fled, and one, than all more bold, 
 
 Excus'd their flight, ami thus the wonders told : 
 
76 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII- 
 
 My lord, not one of us there is, I grant, 
 
 That dares cut down one branch in yonder spring; 
 
 I think there dwells a sprite in every plant, 
 There keeps his court great Dis, infernal king : 
 
 He hath a heart of hardened adamant 
 
 That without trembling dares attempt the thing; 
 
 And sense he wanteth who so hardy is 
 
 To hear the forest thunder, roar, and hiss. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 This said, Alcasto to his words gave heed, 
 
 Alcasto, leader of the Switzers grim ; 
 A man both void of wit and void of dread, 
 
 Who fear'd not loss of life nor loss of limb; 
 No savage beasts in deserts wild that feed, 
 
 Nor ugly monster, could dishearten him ; 
 Nor whirlwind, thunder, earthquake, storm, or aught 
 That in this world is strange or fearful thought. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He shook his head, and smiling thus 'gan say : 
 The hardiness have I that wood to fell, 
 
 And those proud trees low in the dust to lay, 
 Wherein such grisly fiends and monsters dwell ; 
 
 No roaring ghost my courage can dismay, 
 
 No shriek of birds, beasts' roar, or dragons' yell; 
 
 But through and through that forest will I wend, 
 
 Although to deepest hell the paths descend. 
 
 xxvi. 
 
 Thus boasted he, and leave to go desired, 
 
 And forward went with jo\ful cheer and will : 
 
 He view'd the wood and those thick shades admired ; 
 He beard the wond'rous noise anu riiubling shrill; 
 
 Yet not one foot th' audacious man retired ; 
 He scorn'd the peril, preasing forward still, 
 
 Till on the forest's outmost marge he slept ; 
 
 A flaming fire from entrance there him kept. 
 
BOOK X11I. OF JERUSALEM. 77 
 
 \ 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The fire increas'd, and built a stately wall 
 
 Of burning' cols. quick sparks, and embers bot; 
 
 And with bright flames the wood environ'd all, 
 That there no Iree nor twist Alcasto got: 
 
 The higher stretched flames seem'd bulwarks tall, 
 Castles and turrets full of fiery shot, 
 
 With slings and engines strong of even sort; 
 
 What mortal wight durst scale so strange a fort ? 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 what strange monsters on the battlement 
 In loathsome forms stood to defend Ihe place ! 
 
 Their frowning looks upon the knight they bent, 
 And threaten'd death with shot, with sword, and 
 
 At last he fled, and though but slow he went, [mace. 
 As lions do whom jolly hunters chase, 
 
 Yet fled the man, and with sad fear withdrew, 
 
 Though fear till then he never felt nor knew. 
 
 That he had fled long time he never wist, 
 But when far run he had discovered it. 
 
 Himself for wonder with his hand he blist, 
 A bitter sorrow by the heart him bit; 
 
 Amaz'd, asham'd, disgrac'd, sad, silent, trist, 
 Alone he would all day in darkness sit ; 
 
 Nor durst he look on man of worth or fame, 
 
 His pride late great now greater made his shame. 
 
 Godfredo call'd him, but he found delays 
 And causes why he should his cabin keep: 
 
 At length perforce he comes, but nought he says, 
 Or talks like those that babble in their sleep. 
 
 His shamefac'dness to Godfrey plain bewrays 
 His flight, so doth his sighs and sadness deep. 
 
 Whereat amaz'd What chance is this ? (quoth he) 
 
 These witchcrafts strange or nature's wonders be ; 
 
78 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 But if his courage any champion move 
 To try the hazard of this dreadful spring-, 
 
 I give him leave th f adventure great to prove, 
 Some news he may report us of the thing. 
 
 This said, his lords attempt the charmed grove, 
 Yet nothing hack but fear and flight they bring; 
 
 For them enforc'd with trembling to retire, 
 
 The sight, the sound, the monsters, and the fire. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 This hapt when woeful Tancred left his bed, 
 To lay in marble cold his mistress dear ; 
 
 The lively colour from his cheek was fled, 
 
 His limbs were weak his helm or targe to bear: 
 
 Nathless when need to high attempts him led, 
 No labour would he shun, no danger fear ; 
 
 His valour, boldness, heart, and courage brave, 
 
 To his faint body strength and vigour gave. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 To this exploit forth went the vent'rous knight, 
 Fearless, yet heedful; silent, well advised ; 
 
 The terrors of that forest's dreadful sight, 
 
 Storms, earthquakes, thunders, cries, he all despised. 
 
 He feared nothing; yet a motion light 
 
 (That quickly vanish'd) in his heart arised ; 
 
 When, lo ! between him and the charmed wood 
 
 A fiery city high as heav'n up stood. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The knight stept back and took a sudden pause, 
 And to himself What help these arms, (quoth he) 
 
 If io this fire, or monsters 1 gaping jaws, 
 I headlong cast myself, what boots it me ? 
 
 For common profit, or my country's cause, 
 To hazard life before me none should be ; 
 
 But this exploit of no such weight I hold, 
 
 For it to lose a Prince or champion bold. 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 79 
 
 But if I fly, what will the Pagans say ? 
 
 If I retire, who shall cut down this spring? 
 God f redo will attempt it every da> ; 
 
 What if some other knight perform the thing? 
 These flames uprisen to forestall ray way, 
 
 Perchance more terror far than danger bring; 
 But hap what shall. This said, he forward stept. 
 And through the fire (0 wond'rous boldness !) leapt. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 He bolted through, but neither warmth nor heat 
 He felt, nor sign of fire or scorching flame ; 
 
 Yet wist he not, in his dismay'd conceit, 
 
 If that were fire or no through which he came; 
 
 For at first touch vanished those monsters great, 
 And in their stead the clouds black night did frame, 
 
 And hideous storms and showers of hail and rain ; 
 
 Yet storms and tempests vanish'd straight again. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Amaz'd, but not afraid, the champion good 
 
 Stood still ; but when the tempest past he spied, 
 
 He enter'd boldly that forbidden wood, 
 And of the forest all the secrets eyed : 
 
 In all his walk no sprite or fantasme stood, 
 That stopt his way or passage free denied ; 
 
 Save that the growing trees so thick were set, 
 
 That oft his sight and passage oft they let. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 At length a fair and spacious green he spied, 
 Like calmest waters plain, like velvet soft, 
 
 Wherein a cypress, clad in summer's pride, 
 Pyramid-wise, lift up its tops aloft ; 
 
 In whose smooth bark, upon the evenest side, 
 
 Strange characters he found, and view'd them oft; 
 
 Like those which priests of Egypt erst in stead 
 
 Of letters us'd, which none but they could read: 
 
80 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII- 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 'Mongst them he picked out these words at last, 
 Writ in the Synac tongue, which well he could 
 
 Ohard) knight! who through these woods hath pass'd, 
 Where death his palace and his court doth hold, 
 
 O trouble not these souls in quiet pi ic'd ! 
 O he not cruel as thy heart is hold ! 
 
 Pardon these ghosts depriv'd of heav'nly light, 
 
 With spirits dead why should men living light? 
 
 XL. 
 
 This found he graven in the tender rind ; 
 
 And while he mused on this uncouth writ, 
 Him thought he heard the softly whistling wind, 
 
 His Masts amid the leaves and hranches knit, 
 And frame a sound like speech of human kind, 
 
 But fail of sorrow, grief, and woe was it ; 
 Whereby his gentle thoughts all filled were 
 With pity, sadness, grief, compassion, fear. 
 
 XLl. 
 
 He drew his sword at last, and gave the tree 
 A mighty blow that made a gaping wound ; 
 
 Out of the rift red streams he trickling see 
 That all bebled the verdant plain around; 
 
 His hair start up ; yet once again struck he, 
 (He nould give over till the end he found 
 
 Of this adventure,) when with plaint and moan, 
 
 As from some hollow grave, he heard one groan. 
 XLIJ. 
 
 Enough, enough, (the voice lamenting said) 
 
 Tancred, thou hast me hurt; thou didst me drive 
 
 Out of the body of a noble maid, 
 
 Who with me liv'd, whom late I kept alive; 
 
 And now, within this woeful cypress laid, 
 My tender rind thy weapon sharp doth rive. 
 
 Cruel ! is't not enough thy foes to kill, 
 
 But in their graves wilt thou torment them still ? 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 81 
 
 I was Clorinda? now imprisoned here 
 
 (Yet not alone) within this plant I dwell ; 
 
 For every Pagan Lord and Christian Peer, 
 Before the city's walls last day that fell, 
 
 (In bodies new or graves, t wot not clear,) 
 But here they are confin'd by majjic's spell, 
 
 So that each tree hath life, and sense each bough ; 
 
 A murd'rer if thou cut one twist art thou. 
 
 As the *ick man that in his sleep doth see 
 Some ugly dragon or some chimser new ; 
 
 Though he suspect or half persuaded be 
 It is an idle dream, no monster new; 
 
 Yet still he fears, he quakes, and strives to flee, 
 So fearful is that wond'rous form to view: 
 
 So fear'd the knight, yet he both knew and thought 
 
 All were illusions false by witchcraft wrought. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 But cold and trembling wax'd his frozen heart, 
 Such strange affects, such passions it torment; 
 
 Out of his feeble hand his weapon start, 
 Himself out of his wits nigh after went. 
 
 Wounded he saw (he thought) for pain and smart 
 His lady weep, complain, mourn, and lament; 
 
 Nor could he suffer her dear blood to see, 
 
 Or hear her sighs that deep far fetched be. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Thus his fierce heart, which death had scorned oft, 
 Whom no strange shape or monster could dismay, 
 
 With feigned shows of tender love made soft, 
 A spirit false did with vain plaints betray. 
 
 A whirling wind his sword heav'd up aloft, 
 And through the forest bare it quite away* 
 
 Overcome retir'd the Prince, and as he came 
 
 His sword he found aud repossessed the same : 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
82 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 XLVII. 
 Yet nould return, he had no mind to try 
 
 His courage further in those forests green? 
 But when to Godfrey's tent he'proached nigh, 
 
 His spirits wak'd, his thoughts composed been. 
 My lord, (quoth he) a witness true am I 
 
 Of wonders strange, believed scant though seen ; 
 What of the fire, the shades, the dreadful sound, 
 You heard, all true by proof myself have found : 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 A burning fire (so are those deserts charmed) 
 Built like a battled wall to heav*n was rear'd. 
 
 Whereon, with darts and dreadful weapons armed, 
 Of monsters foul mishap'd whole bands appeared; 
 
 But through them all I past, unhurt, unharmed, 
 No flame or threatened blow I felt or feared; 
 
 Then rain and night I found, but straight again 
 
 To day the night, to sunshine turn'd the rain. 
 
 XLXIX. [wood 
 
 What would you more ? Each tree through all that 
 
 Hath sense, hath life, hath speech, like human kind : 
 I heard their words as in that grove I stood ; 
 
 That mournful voice still still I bear in mind ; 
 And (as they were of flesh) the purple blood 
 
 At every blow streams from the wounded rind. 
 No, no ! not I, nor any else (I trow), 
 Hath power to cut one leaf, one branch, oneboitgh. 
 &. 
 
 While thus he said, the Christians 1 noble Guide 
 Felt uncouth strife in his contentious thought; 
 
 He thought, what if himself in person tried [nought ; 
 Those witchcraftsstrange, and bring those charms to 
 
 For such he deem'd them ; or elsewhere provide 
 For timber easier got though farther sought : 
 
 But from his study he at last abray'd, 
 
 Call'd by the hermit old that to him said : 
 
BOOK XIH. OF JERUSALEM. 83 
 
 Leave off thy hardy thought; another** hands 
 Of these her plants the wood dispoilen shall : 
 
 Now ! now ! the fatal ship of conquest lands, 
 Her sails are struck, her silver anchors fall ; 
 
 Our champion broken hath his worthless bands, 
 And looseth from the soil which held him thrall: 
 
 The time draws nigh when our proud foes in field 
 
 Shall slaughtered lie, and Sion's fort shall yield. 
 LII. 
 
 This said, bis visage shone with beams divine, 
 And more than mortal was his voice's sound. 
 
 Godfredo's thoughts to other acts incline, 
 His working brain was never idle found. 
 
 But in the Crab now did bright Titan shine, [ground; 
 And scorch'd with scalding beams the parched 
 
 And made unfit for toil or warlike feat 
 
 His soldiers, weak with labour, faint with sweat. 
 LIU. 
 
 The planets mild their lamps benign quench'd out, 
 And cruel stars in heav'n did signorise, 
 
 Whose influence cast fiery flames about, 
 
 And hot impressions through the earth and skies : 
 
 The growing heat still gather'd deeper root, [flies ; 
 The noisome warmth through lands and kingdoms 
 
 A harmful night a hurtful day succeeds, 
 
 And worse than botb next morn her light outspreads. 
 
 LJV. 
 
 When Phoebus rose, he left his golden weed, 
 And don'd a gite in deepest purple dy'd ; 
 
 His sanguine beams about his forehead spread, 
 A sad presage of ill that should betide ; 
 
 With vermeil drops at even his tresses bleed, 
 Foreshows of future heat, from th' ocean wide 
 
 When next he rose ; and thus increased still 
 
 Their present harms with dread of future ilk 
 G 2 
 
84 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 i/v. 
 
 While thus he bent 'gainst earth his scorching rays, 
 He burnt the flow' rets, burnt his Clitie dear ; 
 
 The leaves grew wan upon the wither'd sprays, 
 The grass and growing herbs all parched were ; 
 
 Earth cleft in rifts, in floods each stream decays ; 
 The barren clouds with lightning bright appear; 
 
 And mankind fear'd lest Climene's child again 
 
 Had driven awry his sire's ill-guided wain. 
 
 As from a furnace flew the smoke to skies, 
 
 Such smoke as that when damned Sodom brent ; 
 
 Within his caves sweet Zephyre silent lies; 
 Still was the air, the rack nor came nor went, 
 
 But o'er the lands with lukewarm breathing flies 
 The southern wind, from sunburnt Afric sent, 
 
 Which, thick and warm, his interrupted blasts 
 
 Upon their bosoms, throats, and faces casts. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Nor yet more comfort brought the gloomy night, 
 In her thick shades was burning heat uproll d, 
 
 Her sable mantle was embroider' d bright 
 
 With blazing stars, and gliding fires for gold ; 
 
 Nor to refresh (sad earth !) thy thirsty sprite, 
 The niggard moon let fall her May-dews cold ; 
 
 And dried up the vital moisture was" 
 
 In trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass. 
 LVIII. 
 
 Sleep to his quiet dales exiled fled 
 
 From these unquiet nights, and oft in vain 
 
 The soldiers restless sought the god in bed ; 
 
 But most for thirst they mourn'd and most complain, 
 
 For Judah's tyrant had strong poison shed 
 
 (Poison that breeds more woe and deadly pain 
 
 Then Acheron or Stygian waters bring) 
 
 In every fountain, cistern, well, and spring; 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 85 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And little Siloe, that his store bestows 
 Of purest crystal on the Christian bands, 
 
 The pebbles naked in his channel shows, 
 
 And scantly glides above the scorched sands: 
 
 Nor Po in May, when o'er his banks he flows, 
 Nor Ganges, waterer of the Indian lands, 
 
 Nor seven-mouth'd Nile, that yields all Egypt drink, 
 
 To quench their thirst the men sufficient think. 
 LX. 
 
 He that the gliding rivers erst had seen 
 
 Adown their verdant channels gently roll'd, 
 
 Or falling streams which to the valleys green, 
 Distiil'd from tops of Alpine mountains cold, 
 
 Those he desir'd in vain, new torments been 
 Augmented thus with wish of comforts old ; 
 
 Those waters cool he drank in vain conceit, 
 
 Which more increased his thirst, increased his heat. 
 
 The sturdy bodies of the warriors strong, 
 
 Whom neither marching far, nor tedious way, 
 
 Nor weighty arms which on their shoulders hong, 
 Could weary make, nor death itself dismay, 
 
 Now weak and feeble, cast their limbs along, 
 Unwieldy burthens, on the burned clay ; 
 
 And in each vein a smould'ring fire there dwelt, 
 
 g fr 
 olid 
 
 Which dried their flesh, and solid bones did melt. 
 
 Languished the steed late fierce, and proffer'd grass, 
 His fodder erst, despis'd, and from him kest ; 
 
 Each step he stumbled, and, which lofty was 
 And high advanced before, now fell his crest; 
 
 His conquests gotten all forgotten pass, 
 Nor with desire of glory swell'd his breast ; 
 
 The spoils won from his foe, his late rewards, 
 
 He now neglecls> despises, nought regards. 
 
86 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 Languished the faithful dog, and wonted care 
 Of his dear lord and cabin both forgot ; 
 
 Panting he laid, and gather'd fresher air 
 To cool the burning in his entrails hot; 
 
 But breathing (which wise Nature did prepare 
 To 'suage the stomach's heat) now booted not; 
 
 For little ease (alas !) small help they win, 
 
 That breath forth air and scalding fire suck in, 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Thus languished the earth ; in this estate 
 
 Lay woeful thousands of the Christians stout ; 
 
 The faithful people grew nigh desperate 
 
 Of hoped conquest, shameful death they doubt ; 
 
 Of their distress they talk and oft debate, [out t 
 
 These sad complaints were heard the camp through- 
 
 What hope hath Godfrey ? Shall we still here lie, 
 
 Till all his soldiers, ail our armies die ? 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Alas ! with what device, what strength, thinks he 
 To scale these walls, or this strong fort to get ? 
 
 Whence hath he engines new? doth he not see 
 
 How wrathful heav'n 'gainst us his sword doth whet ? 
 
 These tokens shewn true signs and witness be 
 Our angry God our proud attempts doth let, 
 
 And scorching sun so hot his beams outspreads, 
 
 That not more cooling Inde nor TEthiope needs* 
 
 Or thinks he it an eath or little thing 
 
 That tisdespis'd, neglected, and disdain'd, 
 
 Like abjects vile to death he thus should bring, 
 That so his empire may be still maintained ? 
 
 Is it so great a bliss to be a king, 
 When he that wears the crown with blood isstain'd, 
 
 And buys his sceptre with his people's lives ? 
 
 See whither glory ?ain fond mankind drivei I 
 
HOOK X11I. OF JERUSALEM. 87 
 
 See, see the man, call'd holy, just, and good, 
 Thai courteous, meek, and humble wouldbe thought, 
 
 Yet never car'd in what distress we stood, 
 If his vain honour were diminish'd nought ; 
 
 When dried up from us is spring and flood, 
 
 His water must from Jordan streams be brought ; 
 
 And now he sits at feasts and banquets sweet, 
 
 And mingleth waters fresh with wines of Crete! 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 The French thus murmur'd, but the Greekish knight-, 
 Tatine, that of this war was weary grown 
 
 Why die we here (quoth he), slain without fight; 
 Kill'd,. not subdu'd ; murder'd, not overthrown ? 
 
 Upon the Frenchmen let the penance light 
 Of Godfrey'^ folly, les me save mine own. 
 
 And as he said, without farewell, the knight 
 
 And all his cornet stole away by night. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 His bad example many a troop prepares 
 To imitate, when his escape they know; 
 
 Clothariu* his band, and Ademare's, 
 
 And all whose guides in dust were buried low, 
 
 Discharged of duty's chains and bondage snares, 
 Free from their oath, to none they service owe, 
 
 But now concluded all on secret flight, 
 
 And shrunk away by thousands every night. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Godfredo this both heard, and saw, and know, 
 
 Yet nould with death them chastise tho' he mought, 
 
 But with that faith wherewith he could remew 
 The stedfast hills, and seas dry up to nought, 
 
 He pray'd the Lord upon his flock to rew, 
 
 To ope the springs of grace, and ease this drought ; 
 
 Out of his looks shone zeal, devotion, faith, 
 
 His hands and eyes to lieav'u he heaves, and saitht 
 
88 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 Father and Lord ! if in the deserts waste 
 
 Thou hadst compassion on thy children dear, 
 
 The craggy rock when Moses cleft and brast, 
 And drew forth flowing streams of waters clear, 
 
 Like mercy, Lord, like grace, on us downcast; 
 And though our merits less than theirs appear, 
 
 Thy grace supply that want, tor though they be 
 
 Thy first-born sons, thy children yet are we. 
 
 LXXH. 
 
 These prayers just, from humble heart forth sent, 
 Were nothing slow to climb the starry sky, 
 
 But swift as winged birds themselves present 
 Before the Father of the heavens high : 
 
 The Lord accepted them, and gently bent 
 Upon the faithful host his gracious eye, 
 
 And in what pain and what distress it laid 
 
 He saw, and griev'd to see, and thus he said : 
 
 Mine armies dear till now have suffer'd woe, 
 Distress and danger, hell's infernal pow'r 
 
 Their enemy hath been, the world their foe ; 
 But happy be their actions from this hour, 
 
 What they begin to blessed end shall go ; 
 1 will refresh them with a gentle show'r; 
 
 Hinaldo shall return; th' Egyptian crew 
 
 They shall encounter, conquer and subdue. 
 
 LXXIY. 
 
 At these high words great heav'n began to shake, 
 The fixed stars, the planets wand'riug still, 
 
 Trembled the air, the earth and ocean quake, 
 Spring, fountain, river, forest, dale and hill ; 
 
 From north to east, a lightning flash out brake, 
 And coming drops presag'd with thunder shrill* 
 
 With joyful shouts the soldiers on the plain 
 
 These tokens bless of long-desired ruin, 
 
BOOK XIII. OF JERUSALEM. 89 
 
 A sudden cloud, as when !ius pray'd, 
 
 (Not from dry earth exhal'd by Phoebus' beams,) 
 
 Arose, moist heav'n his windows open laid, 
 Whence clouds by heaps out-rush, and wat'ry streams* 
 
 The world o'erspread was with a gloomy shade, 
 That like a dark and mirksome even it seems; 
 
 The dashing rain from molten skies down fell, 
 
 And o'er their banks the brooks and fountains swell. 
 
 LXXVl. 
 
 In summer season, when the cloudy sky 
 
 Upon the parched ground doth rain down send, 
 
 As duck and mallard in the furrows dry 
 
 With merry noise the prornis'd showers attend, 
 
 And spreading broad their wings displayed lie 
 
 To keep the drops that on their ptuiues descend; 
 
 And where the streams swell to a gather'd lake, 
 
 Therein they dive, and sweet refreshing take : 
 LXXVII. 
 
 So they the streaming showers with shouts and cries 
 Salute, which heav'n shed on the thirsty lands: 
 
 The falling liquor from the dropping skies 
 He catcheth in his lap ; he barehead stands, 
 
 And his bright helm to drink therein unties ; 
 In the fresh streams he dives his sweaty hands 
 
 Their faces some, and some their temples wet, 
 
 And some to keep the drops large vessels set. 
 
 LXXV1II. 
 
 Nor man alone, to ease his burning sore, 
 
 Herein doth dive and wash, and hereof drinks; 
 
 But earth itself, weak, feeble, faint before, 
 
 Whose-soiid limbs were cleft with rifts and chinks, 
 
 Receiv'd the falling showers, and gather'd store 
 Ot liquor sweet, that through her veins down sinks; 
 
 And moisture new infused largely was 
 
 la trees, in plants, iu herbs, in flowers, in grass. 
 
90 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIII. 
 
 Earth like the patient was, whose lively blood 
 Hath overcome at last some sickness strong, 
 
 Whose feeble limbs had been the bait and food 
 Whereon his strange disease depastured long; 
 
 But now restor'd, in health and welfare stood, 
 As sound as erst, as fresh, as fair, as young ; 
 
 So that, forgetting all his grief and pain, 
 
 His pleasant robes and crowns he lakes again. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Ceased the rain ; the sun began to shine, 
 With fruitful, sweet, benign, and gentle ray, 
 
 Full of strong power and vigour masculine, 
 As be his beams in April or in May. 
 
 O happy zeal ! who trusts in help divine 
 The world's afflictions thus can drive away* 
 
 Can storms appease, and times and seasons change,. 
 
 And conquer fortune, fate, and dest'ny strange. 
 
BOOK X1T. OF JERUSALEM. 91 
 
 BOOK XIV. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Lord to Godfrey in a dream doth shew 
 
 His will. Rinaldo must return at last. 1? 
 
 They have their asking who for pardon sue. 21 
 
 Two knights to find the Prince are sent in haste; 26 
 
 But Peter, who by insion all foreknew, 29 
 
 Sendeth the searchers to a wizard, placed 35 
 
 Deep in a vault, who first at large declares 
 
 Armida's trains, then how to shun those snares* 
 
 Now from the fresh, the soft and tender bed 
 Of her stiii mother, genlle night out flew, 
 
 The fleeting balm on hills and dales she shed, 
 With honey drops of pure and precious dew, 
 
 And on the verdure of green forests spread 
 The virgin primrose and the violet blue ; 
 
 And sweet-breath'd Zephyr on his spreading wings 
 
 bleep, ease, repose, rest, peace and quiet brings. 
 
 n. 
 
 The thoughts and troubles of broad-waking day 
 They softly dipt in mild oblivion's lake ; 
 
 But He, whose Godhead heav'u and earth doth sway. 
 In his eternal light did watch and wake, 
 
 And bent on Godfrey down the gracious ray 
 Of his bright eye, still ope for Godfrey's sake, 
 
 To whom a silent dream the Lord down sent, 
 
 Which told hi* will, his pleasure, and intent. 
 
92 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIV. 
 
 III. 
 
 Far in the east (the golden gate beside 
 
 Whence Phcebus comes) a crystal port there is, 
 
 And ere the sun his broad doors open wide, 
 The beam of springing day uncloseth this; 
 
 Hencecomethedreams, by which heav'ns sacred Guide 
 Reveals to man those high decrees of his : 
 
 Hence towards Godfrey, ere he left his bed, 
 
 A vision strange his golden plumes bespread : 
 
 IV. 
 
 Such semblances, such shapes, such portraits fair 
 Did never yet in dream or sleep appear, 
 
 For all the forms in sea, in earth, or air, 
 
 The signs in heav'n, the stars in every sphere, 
 
 AH what was wond'rous, uncouth, strange and rare, 
 All in that vision well presented were; 
 
 His dream had plac'd him in a crystal wide, 
 
 Beset with golden fires, top, bottom, side : 
 v. 
 
 There white he wond'reth on the circles vast, 
 The stars, their motions, course, and harmony, 
 
 A knight (with shining rays and fire embrac'd) 
 Presents himself unwares before his eye, 
 
 "Who with a voice that far for sweetness past 
 
 Ail human speech, thus said, approaching nigh: 
 
 What* Godfrey ! kuow'st thou not thy Hugo here ? 
 
 Come and embrace thy friend and fellow dear. 
 
 VI. 
 
 He answer'd him That glorious shining light 
 
 Which in thine eyes his glist'ring beams doth place, 
 
 Estranged hath from my foreknowledge quite 
 Thy countenance, thy favour, and thy (ace 
 
 This said* three times he stretch'd his hands outright, 
 And would in friendly arms the knight embrace; 
 
 And thrice the spirit fled, and thrice hetwin'd 
 
 Nought in his folded arms but air and wind. 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 93 
 
 Til. 
 
 Lord Hugo smil'd Not as you think (quoth he) 
 1 clothed am in flesh and earthly mould, 
 
 My spirit pure and naked soul you see, 
 A citizen of this celestial hold ; 
 
 This place is beav'n, and here a room forthee 
 
 Prepared is, among Christ's champions bold. 
 .Ah when (quoth he), these mortal bonds uuknit, 
 
 Shall I in peace, in ease, and rest, there sit ? 
 
 Hugo replied Ere many years shall run, 
 
 Amid the saints in bliss here shalt thoii reign $ 
 
 But first great wars must by thy hand be done, 
 Much blood be shed, and many Pagans slain; 
 
 The holy city by assault be won. 
 
 The land set free from servile yoke again ; 
 
 Wherein thou shall a Christian empire frame, 
 
 And after thee shall Baldwin rule the same. 
 
 But, to increase thy love and great desire 
 To heaven-ward, this blessed place behold ; 
 
 These shining lamps, these globes of living fire, \ 
 How they are turned, guided, mov'd, and roll'd, 
 
 The angels singing here and ail their quire : 
 
 Then bend thine eyes on yonder earth and mould, 
 
 All in that mass, Uiat globe, and compass see, 
 
 Land, sea, spring, fountain, man, beast, grass, and tree: 
 
 x. 
 
 How vile, how small, and of how slender price, 
 ts there, reward of goodness, virtue's gain : 
 
 A narrow room our glory vain up-ties, 
 A little circle doth our pride contain ; 
 
 Earth like an isle amid the water lies, 
 
 Which sea sometime is calPd, sometime the main; 
 
 Yet nought therein responds a name so great, 
 
 It's but a lake, a pond, a marish strait 
 
94 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIV. 
 
 Thus said the one ; the other bended down 
 
 His looks to ground, and half in scorn he smil'd; 
 
 He saw at once earth, sea, flood, castle, town, 
 Strangely divided, strangely all compil'd, 
 
 And wonder'd folly man so far should drown, 
 To set his heart on things so base and vilde, 
 
 That servile empire searcheth and dumb fame, [same. 
 
 And scorns heav'n's bliss; yet proff'reth heav'n the 
 
 XII. 
 
 Wherefore he answer'd Since the Lord not yet 
 Will free my spirit from this cage of clay, 
 
 Lest worldly error vain my voyage let, 
 
 Teach me to heav'n the best and surest way. 
 
 Hugo reply 'd Thy happy foot is set 
 
 In the true path, nor from this passage stray 5 
 
 Only from exile young Rinaldo call; 
 
 This give I thee in charge, else nought at all : 
 
 XIII. 
 
 For as the Lord of hosts, the King of bliss, 
 Hath chosen thee to rule the faithful band, 
 
 So he thy stratagems appointed is 
 
 To execute, so both shall win this land ; 
 
 The first is thine, the second place is his, 
 Thou art this army's head, and he the hand ; 
 
 No other champion can his place supply, 
 
 And that thou do it doth thy state deny. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Th' enchanted forest, and her charmed treen 
 With catting steel shall he to earth down hew ; 
 
 And thy weak armies, which too feeble been 
 To scale again these wails reinforced new, 
 
 And fainting lie dispersed on the green, 
 Shall take new strength, new courage, at his view ; 
 
 The high-built towers, the eastern squadrons, all 
 
 Shall conquer'd be, shall fly, shall die, shall fall. 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 95 
 
 xv. 
 
 He held his peace ; and Godfrey answer'd so : 
 O how his presence would re-comfort me, 
 
 You that man's hidden thoughts perceive and know, 
 (If I say truth, or if I love him) see : 
 
 But say, what messengers shall for him go ? 
 
 What shall their speeches, what their errand be ? 
 
 Shall I entreat, or else command the man ? 
 
 With credit neither well perform I can. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Th' eternal Lord (the other knight replied) 
 That with so many graces hath thee blest, 
 
 Wills, that among the troops thou hast to guide 
 Thou honour'd be and fear'd of most and leasts 
 
 Then speak not thou, lest blemish some betide 
 Thy sacred empire if thou make request* 
 
 But when by suit thou moved are to ruth, 
 
 Then yield, forgive, and home recall the youth. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Guelpho shall pray thee (God shall him inspire) 
 To pardon this offence, this fault commit 
 
 By hasty wrath, by rash and headstrong ire, 
 To call the knight again ; yield thou to it: 
 
 And though the youth (enwrapt in fond desire) 
 Far hence in love and looseness idle sit, 
 
 Yet fear it not he shall return with speed, 
 
 When most you wish him, and when most you need. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Your hermit Peter (to whose sapient heart 
 High Heav'n his secrets opens, tells, and shews) 
 
 Your messengers direct can to that part 
 
 Where of the Prince they shall hear certain new*, 
 
 And learn the way, the manner, and the art 
 To bring him back to these thy warlike crews ; 
 
 That all thy soldiers, wander'd and misgone, 
 
 Heav'n may unite again and join in one* 
 
96 THE RECOVERY BOOK XiV. 
 
 But this conclusion shall my speeches end, 
 
 Know that his blood shall mixed be with thine, 
 
 Whence barons bold and worthies shall descend, 
 That many great exploits shall bring to fine. 
 
 This said, he vanished from his sleeping friend, 
 Like smoke in wind, or mist in Titan's shine; 
 
 Sleep fled likewise, and in his troubled thought, 
 
 With wonder pleasure, joy with marvel fought. 
 
 xx. 
 
 The Dnke look'd up, and saw the azure sky 
 With orient beams of silver morning spread, 
 
 And .started up; for praise and virtue lie 
 In toil and travail, sin and shame in bed : 
 
 His arms he took, his sword girt to his thigh ; 
 To his pavilion all his lords them sped, 
 
 And there in council grave the princes sit : 
 
 For strength by wisdom, war is ruled by wit. 
 
 xxi. 
 
 Lord Guelpho there (within whose gentle breast 
 Heav'n had infus'd that new and sudden thought) 
 
 His pleasing words thus to the Duke address'd: 
 Good Prince, mild, though unask'd, kind, unbe- 
 
 let thy mercy grant my just request; [sought, 
 Pardon this fault, by rage, not malice, wrought; 
 
 For great offence, I grant, so late commit, 
 My suit too hasty is, perchance unfit : 
 
 XXII. 
 
 But since to Godfrey meek, benign, and kind, 
 For Prince Rinaldo bold 1 humbly sue, 
 
 And that the suitor s self is not behind 
 
 Thy greatest friends, in state or friendship true? 
 
 1 trust 1 shall thy grace and mercy find 
 
 Acceptable to me and all this crew : 
 O call him home, this trespass to amend 
 He shall his blood in Godfrey's service spend: 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 97 
 
 And if not he, who else dares undertake 
 Of this enchanted wood to cut one tree? 
 
 'Gainst death and danger who dares battle make 
 With so bold face, so fearless heart, as he? 
 
 Beat down these walls, these gates in pieces break, 
 Leap o'er these rampires high, thou shall him see. 
 
 Restore therefore to this desirous band [their hand ; 
 
 Their wish, their hope, their strength, their shield, 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 To me my nephew, to thyself restore 
 
 A trusty help when strength of hand thou needs ; 
 In idleness let him consume no more, 
 
 Recall him to his noble acts and deeds ; 
 Known be his worth as was his strength of yore ; 
 
 Where'er thy standard broad her cross outspreads, 
 O let his fame and praise spread far and wide : 
 Be thou his lord, his teacher, and his guide. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Thus he entreated, and the rest approve 
 
 His words, with friendly murmurs whisper'd low. 
 
 Godfrey, as though their suit his mind did move 
 To that whereon he never thought till now 
 
 How can my heart (quoth he), if you I love, 
 To your request and suit but bend and bow ? 
 
 Let rigour go, that right and justice be 
 
 Wherein jou all consent and all agree. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Rinaldo shall return ; let him restrain 
 
 Henceforth his headstrong wrath and hasty ire, 
 
 And with his hardy deeds let him take pain 
 To correspond your hope and my desire. 
 
 Guelpho, thou must call home the knight again ; 
 See that with speed he to these tents retire 5 
 
 The messengers appoint as likes thy mind, [find. 
 
 And teach them where they should the young mau 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
98 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIV. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Up start the Dane that bore Prince Sweno's brand : 
 I will (quoth he) that message undertake ; 
 
 I will refuse no pains by sea or land 
 
 To give the knight this sword, kept for his sake. 
 
 This man was bold of courage, strong of hand ; 
 Guelpho was glad he did the proffer make. 
 
 Thou shalt (quoth he) ; Ubaldo shall thou have 
 
 To go with thee, a knight, stout, wise, and grave. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Ubaldo in his youth had known and seen 
 
 The fashions strange of many an uncouth land, 
 
 And travell'd over all the realms between 
 The Arctic circle and hot Meroe's strand ; 
 
 And as a man whose wit his guide had been, 
 
 Their customs use he could, tongues understand; 
 
 For this, when spent his youthful seasons were, 
 
 Lord Guelpho entertain' d and held him dear. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 To these committed was the charge and care 
 To find and bring again the champion bold. 
 
 Guelpho commands them to the fort repair 
 Where Boemond doth his seat and sceptre hold, 
 
 For public fame said that Bertoldo's heir [old 
 
 There liv'd, there dwelt, there stay'd. The hermit 
 
 (That knew they were misled by false report) 
 
 Among them came, and parled in this sort : 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Sir knights (quoth he), if you intend to ride 
 And follow each report fond people say, 
 
 You follow but a rash and trot bless guide, 
 
 That leads vain men amiss and makes them stray. 
 
 Near Ascalon go to the salt sea side, 
 
 Where a swift brook falls in with hideous sway, 
 
 An aged sire, our friend, there shall you find, 
 
 All what be saith that do, that keep in mind : 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 99 
 
 Of this great voyage which you undertake, 
 Much by his skill, and much by mine advice, 
 
 Hath he foreknown, and welcome for my sake 
 You both shall be, the man is kind and wise.- 
 
 Instructed thus no further question make 
 The twain elected for this enterprise. 
 
 But humbly yielded to obey his word, 
 
 For what the hermit said that said the Lord. 
 
 They took their leave and on their journey went, 
 Their will could brook no stay, their zeal no let: 
 
 To Ascalon their voyage straight they bent, 
 
 Whose broken shores with brackish waves are wet ; 
 
 And there they heard how 'gainst the clifts (besprent 
 With bitter foam) the roaring surges beat ; 
 
 A tumbling brook their passage stop'd and stay'd, 
 
 Which late-fall'n rain had proud and puissant made; 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 So proud that over nil his banks he grew, 
 
 And through the fields ran swift as shaft from bow. 
 
 While here they stopt and stood, before them drew 
 An aged sire, grave and benign in show, 
 
 Crown'd with a beechen garland gathered new, 
 Clad in a linen robe that raught down low, 
 
 In his right hand a rod, and on the flood, 
 
 Against the stream, he marclf d, and dry-shod yode : 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 As on the Rhine (whea winter's freezing cold 
 Congeals the streams to thick and hardened glass) 
 
 The beauties fair of shepherds' daughters bold, 
 With wanton windlays, run, turn, play, and pass ; 
 
 So on this river pass'd the wizard old, 
 
 Although unfrozen, soft, and swift it was; 
 
 And thither stalked where the warriors stood, 
 
 To whom (their greetings done) he spoke and said : 
 H 2 
 
100 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIY. 
 
 Great pains, great travail, Lords, you have begun, 
 And of a cunning guide great need you stand ; 
 
 Far off, alas ! is great Bertoldo's son, 
 Imprison'd in a waste and desert land ; 
 
 What soil remains by which you must not run, 
 What promontory, rock, sea, shore, or sand ? 
 
 Your search must stretch, before the Prince be found, 
 
 Beyond our world, beyond our half of ground: 
 xxxvi. 
 
 But yet vouchsafe to see my cell I pray, 
 
 In'hidden caves and vaults though builded low, 
 
 Great wonders there, strange things I will bewray, 
 Things good for you to hear, and fit to know. 
 
 This said, he bids the river make them way ; 
 The flood retird, and backward 'gan to flow, 
 
 And here and there two crystal mountains rise ; 
 
 So fled the Red Sea once, and Jordan thrice. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 He took their hands and led them headlong down 
 Under the flood, through vast and hollow deeps ; 
 
 Such light they had as when through shadows brown 
 Of thickest deserts feeble Cynthia peeps. 
 
 There spacious caves they saw all overflown, 
 There all his waters pure great Neptune keeps; 
 
 And thence, to moisten all the earth, he brings 
 
 Seas, rivers, floods, lakes, fountains, wells, and springs: 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Whence Ganges, Indus, Volga, Ister, Po, 
 
 Whence Euphrates, whence Tygris spring, they 
 
 Whence Tanais, whence Nilus comes also, [view; 
 (Although his head till then no creature knew) ; 
 
 But under these a wealthy stream doth go 
 
 That sulphur yields and ore, rich, quick, and new, 
 
 Which the sunbeam doth polish, purge, and fine, 
 
 And makes it silver pure, and gold divine; 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 101 
 
 And all his banks the rich and wealthy stream 
 Hath fair beset with pearl and precious stone, 
 
 Like stars in sky or lamps on stage that seem, 
 The darkness there was day the night was gone : 
 
 There sparkled (clothed in his azure beam) 
 
 The heav'nly sapphire, there the hyacinth shone, 
 
 The carbuncle there flam'd, the diamond sheen 
 
 There glister'd bright, there smil'd the emerald green. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Amaz'd the knights amid these wonders pass'd, 
 And nVd so deep the marvails in their thought 
 
 That not one word they utter'd, till at last 
 Ubaldo spake, and thus his guide besought: 
 
 O father, tell me, by what skill thou hast 
 
 These wonders done, and to what place us brought ? 
 
 For well I know not if I wake or sleep, 
 
 My heart is drown'd in such amazement deep. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 You are within the hollow womb (quoth he) 
 Of fertile earth, the nurse of all things made; 
 
 And but you brought and guided are by me, 
 Her sacred entrails could no wight invade; 
 
 My palace shortly shall you splendent see 
 With glorious light, though built in night and shade. 
 
 A Pagan was I born, but yet the Lord 
 
 To grace (by baptism) hath my soul restor'd : 
 XLII. 
 
 Nor yet by help of devil or aid from hell 
 I do this uncouth work and wond'rous feat ; 
 
 The Lord forbid I use or charm or spell 
 To raise foul Dis from his infernal seat ; 
 
 But of all herbs, of every spring and well, 
 The hidden power I know and virtue great, 
 
 And all that kind hath hid from mortal sight, 
 
 And all the stars, their motions and their might ; 
 
J02 THE RECOVERY UOOK XIY. 
 
 For in these caves I dwell not buried still 
 From sight of heav'n, but often I resort 
 
 To tops of Lebanon or Carmel hill, 
 And there in liquid air myself disport; 
 
 There Mars and Venus I behold at will, 
 
 As bare as erst when Vulcan took them short ; 
 
 And how the rest roll, glide, and move, I see, 
 
 How their aspects benign or froward be : 
 
 XLIY. 
 
 And underneath my feet the clouds I view, 
 
 Now thick, now thin, now bright with Iris* bow ; 
 
 The frost and snow, the rain, the hail, the dew, [blow; 
 The winds from whence they come and whence they 
 
 How Jove his thunder makes and lightning new, 
 How with the bolt he strikes the earth below ; 
 
 How comet,? crinite, caudate stars are fram'd, 
 
 1 knew ; my skill with pride my heart inflam'd : 
 
 XLV. 
 
 So learned, cunning, wise, myself I thought, 
 That I suppos'd my wit so "high might clime 
 
 To know all things that God had fram'd or wrought, 
 Fire, air, sea, earth, man, beast, sprite, place, and 
 
 But when your hermit me to hnptisrn brought, tirae: 
 And from my soul had wash'd the sin and crime, 
 
 Then I perceiv'd my sight was blindness still : 
 
 My wit was folly, ignorance my skill. 
 XLVI. 
 
 Then saw I that, like owls in shining sun, 
 
 So 'gainst the beams of truth our souls are blind, 
 
 And at myself to smile I then begun, 
 
 And at my heart puff'd up with folly's wind : 
 
 Yet still these arts as I before had done 
 T practised ; such was the hermit's mind : 
 
 Thus hath he chang'd my thoughts, my heart, my will, 
 
 And rules mine art, my knowledge, and rny skill : 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 103 
 
 In him I rest, on him my thoughts depend, 
 My lord, my teacher, and my guide fs he, 
 
 This noble work he strives to bring to end, 
 He is the architect, the workmen we. 
 
 The hardy youth home to this camp to send 
 
 Prom prison strong, my care, my charge shall be j 
 
 So he commands, and me ere this foretold 
 
 Your coming oft to seek the champion bold 
 XLVIII. 
 
 While thus he said, he brought the champions twain 
 Down to a vault wherein he dwells and lies. 
 
 It was a cave, high, wide, large, ample, plain, 
 With goodly rooms, halls, chambers, galleries; 
 
 All what is bred in rich and precious vein 
 Of wealthy earth, and hid from mortal eyes, 
 
 There shines; and fair adorn'd was every part 
 
 With riches grown by kind, not fram'd by art : 
 
 XLlX. 
 
 An hundred grooms, quick, diligent, and neat, 
 Attendance gave about these strangers bold ; 
 
 Against the wall there stood a cupboard great 
 Of massy plate, of silver, crystal, gold : 
 
 But when with precious wines and costly meat 
 They filled were, thus spake the wiznrd old : 
 
 Now fits the time, Sir Knights, I tell and show 
 
 What you desire to hear and long to know. 
 
 L. 
 
 Artnida's craft, her slright, and hidden guile, 
 You partly wot, her ads and arts untrue, 
 
 How to your camp she came, and by what wile 
 The greatest lords and princes thence she drew: 
 
 You know she turn'd them first to monsters vile, 
 And kept them since clos'd up in secret mew ; 
 
 Lastly to Gaza-ward in bonds them sent, 
 
 Whom young Uinuldo rescu'd as they went. 
 
104 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIV. 
 
 What chanced since I will at large declare, 
 (To yon unknown,) a story strange and true : 
 
 When first her prey, got with such pain ami care, 
 Escap'd and gone the witch perceiv'd and knew, 
 
 Her hands she wrung for grief, her clothes she tare, 
 And full of woe these heavy words out threw : 
 
 Alas i my knights are slain, my pris'ners free, 
 
 Yet of that conquest never boast shall he : 
 
 MI. 
 
 He in their place shall serve me, and sustain 
 
 Their plagues, their torments suffer, sorrows bear. 
 
 And they bis absence shall lament in vain, 
 
 And wail his loss and theirs with many a tear.- 
 
 Thus talking to herself she did ordain 
 
 A false and wicked guile, as you shall hear: 
 
 Thither she hasted where that valiant knight 
 
 Had overcome and slain her men in fight. 
 
 LIU. 
 
 Rinaldo there had doft and left his own, 
 And on his back a Pagan harness tied ; 
 
 Perchance he deemed so to pass unknown, 
 And in those arms less noted safe to ride: 
 
 A headless corse, in fight late overthrown, 
 The witch in his forsaken arms did hide, 
 
 And by a brook expos'd it on the sand, 
 
 Whither she wis'd would come a Christian band. 
 
 Their coming might the dame foreknow right well, 
 For secret spies she sent forth thousand ways, 
 
 Which every day news from the camp might tell, 
 Who parted thence booties to search or praise : 
 
 Beside, the sprites, conjur'd by secret spell, 
 All what she asks or doubts reveals and says: 
 
 The body therefore plac'd she in that part 
 
 That furthered best her sleight, her craft, and art ; 
 
BOOK XIV. Of JERUSALEM. 105 
 
 And near the corpse a varlet false and sly 
 She left, attir'd in shepherd's homely weed, 
 
 And taught him how to counterfeit and lie 
 As time requir'd, and he performed the deed : 
 
 With him your soldiers spoke, of jealousy) 
 And false suspect 'mongst them he strew'd the seed, 
 
 That since brought forth the fruit of strife and jar, 
 
 Of civil brawls, contention, discord, war: 
 
 LVI. 
 
 And as she wished, so the soldiers thought 
 
 Ey Godfrey's practice that the Prince was slain ; 
 
 Yet vanish'd that suspicion false to nought, 
 
 When truth spread forth her silver wings again. 
 
 Her false devices thus Armida wrought, 
 
 This was her first deceit, her foremost train ; 
 
 What next she practised shall you hear me tell, 
 
 Against our knight, and what thereof befell. 
 
 Armida hunted him through wood and plain, 
 Till on Orontes' flowery bank he stay'd ; 
 
 There, where the stream did part and meet again, 
 And in the midst a gentle island made, 
 
 A pillar fair was pight beside the main, 
 Near which a little frigate floating laid ; 
 
 The marble white the Prince did long behold, 
 
 And this inscription read there writ in gold: 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Whoso thou art whom will or chance doth bring 
 With happy steps to flood Orontes' sides, 
 
 Know that the world hath not so strange a thing 
 'Twixt east and west as this small island hides; 
 
 Then pass and see without more tarrying. 
 The hasty youth to pass the stream provides; 
 
 And, for the cog was narrow, small, and strait, 
 
 Alone be row'd, and bade his squires there wait* 
 
106 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIV. 
 
 Landed, he stalks about, yet nought he sees 
 
 But verdant groves, sweet shades, and mossy rocks, 
 With caves and fountains, flowers, herbs, and trees ; 
 
 So that the words he read he takes for mocks : 
 But that green isle was sweet at all degrees, 
 
 Wherewith entic'd, down sits he and unlocks 
 His ciosed helm, and bares his visage fair, 
 To take sweet breath from cool and gentle air. 
 
 LX. 
 A rumbling sound amid the waters deep 
 
 Meanwhile he heard, and thither turn'd his sight, 
 And tumbling in the troubled stream took keep 
 
 How the strong waves together rush and fight, 
 Whence first he saw, with golden tresses, peep 
 
 The rising visage of a virgin bright, 
 And then her neck, her breasts, and all as low 
 As he for shame could see or she could show : 
 
 So in the twilight doth sometimes appear 
 A nymph, a goddess, or a fairy queen ; 
 
 An<J though.no syren hut a sprite this were. 
 Yet by her beauty scem'd it she had been 
 
 One of those sisters false which haunted near 
 
 The Tirrheue shores, and kept those waters sheen j 
 
 Like theirs her face, her voice was, and her sound, 
 
 And thus she sung and pleas' d both skies and ground : 
 
 LXII. 
 Ye happy youths, whom April fresh and May 
 
 Attire in flow'ring green of lusty age, 
 For glory vain or virtue's idle ray 
 
 Do not your tender limbs to toil engage ; 
 In calm streams fishes, birds in sunshine play, 
 
 Who followeth pleasure he is only sage; 
 So nature saith-, yet 'gainst her sacred will 
 W T hy still rebel you, and why strive you still? 
 
BOOKXir. OF JERUSALEM. 107 
 
 O fools, who youth possess yet scorn the same, 
 A precious but a short-abiding treasure ; 
 
 Virtue itself is but an idle name, 
 
 Priz'd by the world 'bove reason all and measure; 
 
 And honour, glory, praise, renown, and fame, [sure, 
 That men's proud hearts bewitch with tickling plea- 
 
 An echo is, a shade, a dream, a flower, 
 
 With each wind blasted, spoil' d with every shower: 
 
 I.XIV. 
 
 But let your happy souls in joy possess 
 
 The ivory castles of your bodies fair, 
 Your passed harms salve with forgetfulness, 
 
 Haste not your coming ills with thought and care, 
 Regard no blazing star with burning tress, 
 
 Nor storm, nor threatening sky, nor thund'ring air : 
 This wisdom is, good life, and worldly bliss, 
 Kind teacheth us, nature commands us this. 
 
 Thus sung the spirit false, and stealing sleep 
 (To which her tunes entic'd his heavy eyes) 
 
 By step and step did on his senses creep, 
 Till every lirnb therein unmoved lies; 
 
 Not thunders loud could from this slumber deep 
 (Of quiet death true image) make him rise: 
 
 Then from her ambush forth Armida start, 
 
 Swearing revenge, and threatening torments smart; 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 But when she looked on his face awhile, 
 
 And saw how sweet he breath'd, how still he lay, ' 
 
 How his fair eyes though closed seem to smile, 
 At first she stay'd, astound with great dismay ; 
 
 Then sat her down, (so love can art beguile,) 
 And as she sat and look'd, fled fast away 
 
 Her wrath. Thus on his forehead gaz'd the maid, 
 
 As in his spring; Narcissus tooting laid : 
 
108 THE RECOVERY BOOK XiT. 
 
 And with a veil she wiped now aqd then 
 
 From his fair cheek the globes of silver sweat, 
 
 And cool air gather'd with a trembling fan 
 To mitigate the rage of melting heat : 
 
 Thus (who would think it ?) bis hot eye-glance can 
 Of that cold frost dissolve the hardness great 
 
 Which late congeal'd the heart of that fair dame, 
 
 Who, late a foe, a lover now became. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 Of woodbines, lilies, and of roses sweet, 
 
 Which proudly flower'd through that wanton plain, 
 All platted fast, well knit, and joined meet, 
 
 She fram'd a soft but surely holding chain, 
 Wherewith she bonnd his neck, his hands, and feet. 
 
 Thus bound, thus taken, did the Prince remain, 
 And in a coach, whic.h two old dragons drew, 
 She laid the sleeping knight, and thence she flew : 
 
 JLXIX. 
 
 Nor turn'd she to Damascus' kingdom large, 
 Nor to the fort built in Asphaite's lake, 
 
 But jealous of her dear and precious charge, 
 And of her love asbarn'd, the way did take 
 
 To the wide ocean, whither skiff or barge 
 From us doth seld or never voyage make, 
 
 And there, to frolic with her love awhile, 
 
 She chose a waste, a sole and desert isle ; 
 
 An isle that with her fellows bears the name 
 Of Fortunate, for temperate air and mould ; 
 
 There on a mountain high alight the dame, 
 A hill obscur'd with shades of forests old, 
 
 Upon whose sides the witch by art did frame 
 Continual snow, sharp frost, and winter cold ; 
 
 But on the top, fresh, pleasant, sweet, and green, 
 
 Beside a lake a palace built this queen : 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. 109 
 
 There, in perpetual, sweet, and flow'ring spring, 
 She lives at ease, and 'joys her lord at will. 
 
 The hardy youth from this strange prison bring 
 Your valours must, directed by my skill ; 
 
 And overcome each monster and each thing 
 That guards the palace, or that keeps the hill; 
 
 Nor shall you want a guide or engines fit 
 
 To bring you to the mount, or conquer it. 
 
 Beside the stream yparted shall you find 
 A dame, in visage young, but old in years; 
 
 Her curled locks about her front are twin'd, 
 A party-colour'd robe of silk she wears ; 
 
 She shall conduct you swift as air or wind, 
 
 Or that flit bird that Jove's hot weapon bears; 
 
 A faithful pilot, cunning, trusty, sure, 
 
 As Typhis was, or skilful Palinure. 
 
 At the bill's foot, whereon the witch doth dwell, 
 The serpents hiss and cast their poison vilde; 
 
 The ugly boars do rear their bristles fell ; 
 
 There gape the bears, and roar the lions wild : 
 
 But yet a rod I have can easly quell [mild : 
 
 Their rage and wrath, and make them meek and 
 
 Yet on the top and height of all the hill 
 
 The greatest danger lies and greatest ill : 
 
 :LXXIV. 
 There welleth out a fair, clear, bubbling spring, 
 
 Whose waters pure the thirsty guests entice ; 
 But in those liquors cold the secret sting 
 
 Of strange and deadly poison closed lies; 
 One sup thereof the drinker's heart doth bring 
 
 To sudden joy, whence laughter vain doth rise; 
 Nor that strange merriment once stops or stays, 
 Till with his laughter's end he end his days. 
 
110 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIT. 
 
 Then from those deadly wicked streams refrain 
 Your thirsty lips; despise the dainty cheer 
 
 You find expos" d upon the grassy plain ; 
 
 Nor those false damsels once vouchsafe to hear, 
 
 That in melodious tunes their voices strain, 
 Whose faces lovely, smiling, sweet, appear; 
 
 But you their looks, their voice, their sougs despise, 
 
 And enter fair Ann Ida's paradise : 
 
 LXXTI. 
 The house is builded like a maze within, 
 
 With turning stairs, false doors, and winding ways ; 
 The shape whereof, plotted in vellum thin, 
 
 I will you give, that all those sleights bewrays: 
 In 'midst a garden lies, where many a gin 
 
 And net to catch frail hearts false Cupid lays ; 
 There, in the verdure of the arbours green, 
 With your brave champion lies the wanton queen. 
 
 I.XXVII. 
 
 But when she haply riseth from the knight, 
 
 And hath withdrawn her presence from the place, 
 
 Then take a shield I have of diamonds bright, 
 And hold the same before the young man's face, 
 
 That he may glass therein his garments light, 
 And wanton soft attire, and view his case ; 
 
 That with the sight, shame and disdain may move 
 
 His heart to leave that base and servile love. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 New resteth nought that needful is to tell, 
 But that you go secure, safe, sure, and bold ; 
 
 Unseen the palace may you enter well, 
 And pass the dangers all I have foretold ; 
 
 For neither art, nor charm, nor magic spell, 
 Can stop your passage or your steps withhold ; 
 
 Nor shall Armida (so you guarded be) 
 
 Your coming aught foreknow or once foresee : 
 
BOOK XIV. OF JERUSALEM. Ill 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 And eke as safe from that enchanted fort 
 You shall return and 'scspe unhurt away. 
 
 But now the time doth us to rest exhort, 
 
 And you must rise by peep of springing day. 
 
 This said, he led them through a narrow port, 
 Into a lodging fair wherein they lay ; 
 
 Thtre glad and full of thoughts he left his guests, 
 
 And in his wonted bed the old man rests. 
 
112 THE RECOVERY BOOK XT. 
 
 BOOK XV. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The well-instructed knights forsake their host, 
 And come where their strange bark in harbour lay j 
 
 And setting sail, behold on Egypt's coast 
 The Monarch's ships and armies in array. 
 
 Their wind and pilot good, the seas in post 
 
 They pass, and of long journeys make short way. 
 
 The far-seught isle they find. Armida's charms 
 
 They scorn, they shun her sleights, despise her arms. 
 
 THE rosy-finger' d morn with gladsome ray 
 Rose to her task from old Tithonus' lap. 
 
 When their grave host came where the warriors lay, 
 And with him brought the shield, the rod, the map. 
 
 Arise, (quoth he,) ere lately-broken day 
 
 In his bright arms the round world fold or wrap ; 
 
 All what I promis'd here I have them brought, 
 
 Enough to bring Armida's charms to nought. 
 
 n. 
 
 They started up, and every tender limb 
 
 In sturdy steel and stubborn plate they dight, 
 
 Before the old man stalk'd ; they follow'd him 
 Through gloomy shades of sad and sable night, 
 
 Through vaults obscure again and entries dim, 
 The way they came their steps remeasur'd right; 
 
 But at the flooS arriv'd Farewell (quoth he), 
 
 Good luck your aid, your guide good fortune be. 
 
BOOK XV. OF JERUSALEM. 115 
 
 The flood receiv'd them in his bottom low, 
 And lift them up above his billows thin; 
 
 The waters so cast up a branch or bough, 
 By violence first plung'd and div'd therein. 
 
 But when upon the shore the waves them throw, 
 The knights for their fair guide to look begin; 
 
 And gazing round, a little bark they spy'd, 
 
 Wherein u damsel sat the stern to guide ; 
 
 IV. 
 
 Upon her front her locks were curled new, 
 
 Her eyes were courteous, full of peace and love ; 
 
 In look a saint, an angel bright in shew, 
 So in her visage grace and virtue strove ; 
 
 Her robe seem'd sometimes red and sometimes blue, 
 And changed still as she did stir or move ; 
 
 That look how oft man's eye beheld the same, 
 
 So oft the colours changed," went and came: 
 
 v. 
 
 The feathers so, that tender, soft, and plain, 
 
 About the dove's smooth neck close couched been, 
 
 Do in one colour never long remain, [sheen ; 
 
 But change their hue 'gainst glimpse of Phoebus' 
 
 And now of rubies bright a vermeil chain, 
 Now make a carknet rich of emeralds green ; 
 
 Now mingle both, now alter, turn, and change 
 
 To thousand colours, rich, pure, fair, and strange. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Enter this boat, you bappy men, (she says,) 
 Wherein through raging waves secure I ride; 
 
 To which all tempest, storm, and wind obeys, 
 All burdens light, benign is stream and tide. 
 
 JAy Lord, that rules your journeys and your way, 
 Hath sent me here, your servant and your guide. 
 
 This said, her shallop drove she 'gainst the sand, 
 
 And anchor cast amid the steadfast land. 
 
114 THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 YII. 
 
 They enter* d in j her anchor she up -wound, 
 And launched forth to sea her pinnace flit; 
 
 Spread to the wind her sails she broad unbound, 
 And at the helm sat down to govern it; 
 
 Swelled the flood that all his hanks he drown'd, 
 To bear the greatest ship of burden fit ; 
 
 Yet was her frigate little, swift, and light, 
 
 That at his lowest ebb bear it he might. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Swifter than thought the friendly wind forth bore 
 The sliding boat upon the rolling wave ; 
 
 With curded foam and froth the billows hoar 
 About the cable murmur, roar, and rave : 
 
 At last they came where all his watery store 
 The flood in one deep channel did engrave, 
 
 And forth to greedy seas his streams he sent, 
 
 And so his waves, his name, himself, he spent. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The wond'rous boat scant touch'd the troubled mum, 
 But all the sea still, hush'd, and quiet was ; 
 
 Yanish'd the clouds, ceased the wind and rain, 
 The tempests threatened over-blow and pass ; 
 
 A gentle breathing air made even and plain 
 
 The azure face of heavVs smooth looking-glass $ 
 
 And heav'n itself smil'd from the skies above, 
 
 With a calm clearness, on the earth his love. 
 
 x. 
 
 By Ascalon they sailed, and forth drived 
 
 Toward the west their speedy course they frame, 
 
 In sight of Gaza till the bark arrived, 
 
 (A little port when first it took that name, 
 
 But since by others loss so well it thrived, 
 A city great and rich that it became,) 
 
 And there the shores and borders of the land 
 
 They found as full of armed men as sand. 
 
BOOK XT, OF JERUSALEM; 1J3 
 
 xr. 
 
 The passengers to land-ward turn'd their sight, 
 And there saw pitched many a stately tent ; 
 
 Soldier and footman, captain, lord, and knight, 
 Between the shore and city came and went: 
 
 Huge elephants, strong camels, coursers light, 
 With horned hoofs the sandy ways out rent; 
 
 And in the haven many a ship and boat 
 
 (With mighty anchors fastened) swim and float: 
 
 XII. 
 
 Some spread their sails, and some with strongoars sweep 
 The waters smooth, and brush the buxom wave; 
 
 Their breasts in sunder cleave the yielding deep, 
 The broken seas for anger foam and rave. 
 
 When thus their guide begun Sir Knights, take keep 
 How all these shores are spread with squadrons brave, 
 
 And troops of hardy knights; yet on these sands 
 
 The monarch scant hath gather'd half his bands. 
 
 Of Egypt only these the forces are, 
 
 And aid from other lands they here attend, 
 
 For 'twixt the noon-day sun and morning star, 
 Ail realms at his command do bow and bend ; 
 
 So that I trust we shall return from far, 
 And bring our journey long to wished end, 
 
 Before this king or his lieutenant shall 
 
 These armies bring to Sion's conquer'd wall. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 While thus she said, as soaring eagles fly 
 
 'Mongst other birds securely through the air, 
 
 And mounting up behold with wakeful eye 
 The radiant beams of old Hyperion's hair; 
 
 Her gondola so passed swiftly by 
 
 'Twixt ship and ship, withouten fear or care 
 
 Who should her follow, trouble, stop, or stay, 
 
 And forth to sea made lucky speed and way. 
 
116 TflE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Themselves forenensl old Raphia's town they fand, 
 A town that first to sailors doth appear 
 
 As they from Syria pass to Egypt land : 
 The sterile coasts of barren Rinoceere 
 
 They pass'd ; and seas where Casius' hill doth stand, 
 That with his trees overspreads the waters near, 
 
 Against whose roots breaketh the brackish wave, 
 
 Where Jove his temple, Pompey hath his grave: 
 xvi. 
 
 Then Damietta next, where they behold 
 How to the sea his tribute Nilus pays, 
 
 By his seven mouths, renown'd in stories old, 
 And by an hundred more ignoble ways: 
 
 They pass'd the town built by the Grecian bold, 
 Of him call'd Alexandria till our days ; 
 
 And Pharos' tower and isle, remov'd of yore 
 
 Far from the land, now joined to the shore. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Both Crete and Rhodes they left by north unseen, 
 And sail'd along the coasts of Afric lands, 
 
 Whose sea towns fair, but realms more inward been 
 AH full of monsters and of desert sands : 
 
 With her five cities then they left Cyrene, 
 Where that old temple of false Ammon stands : 
 
 Next Ptolemais, and that sacred wood 
 
 Whence spring the silent streams of Lethe flood. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The greater Sirtes (that sailors often cast 
 In peril great of death and loss extreme) 
 
 They compass' d round about and safely pass'd; 
 Then Cape Judeca and flood Magras' stream ; 
 
 Then Tripoli, 'gainst which is Malta plac'd, 
 That low and hid, to lurk in seas doth seem ; 
 
 The little Sirtes then, and Alzerbe's isle, 
 
 Where dwelt the folk that lotos eat erewhile^ 
 
BOOK XV. OF JERUSALEM. 117 
 
 Next Tunis on the crooked shore they spy'd, 
 Whose bay a rock on either side defends ; 
 
 Tunis, all towns in beauty, wealth, and pride 
 Above, as far as Lybia's bounds extends; 
 
 'Gainst which (from fair Sicilians fertile side) 
 His rugged front great Lilibenni bends. 
 
 The dame there pointed out where sometimes stood 
 
 Rome's stately rival whiiome, Carthage proud : . 
 
 xx. 
 
 Great Carthage low in ashes cold doth lie, 
 Her ruins poor the herbs in height scant pass; 
 
 So cities fall, so perish kingdoms high, 
 
 Their pride and pomp lie hid in sand and grass: 
 
 Then why should mortal man repine to die, 
 Whose life is air, breath wind, and body glass? 
 
 From thence the seas next Bisert's walls they cleft, 
 
 And far Sardinia on their right hand left. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Numidia's mighty plains they coasted then, 
 
 Where wandering shepherds us'd their flocks to feed; 
 
 Then Bitgia and Algiers, th' infamous den 
 Of pirates false ; Oran they left with speed ; 
 
 All Tingitan they swiftly over-ren, 
 
 Where elephants and angry lions breed ; 
 
 Where now the realms of Fez and Moroc be, 
 
 'Gainst which Granada's shores and coasts they see. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Now are they there where first the sea brake in 
 By great Alcides' help (as stories feign); 
 
 True may it be that where those floods begin 
 It whiiome was a firm and solid main, 
 
 Before the sea there ttirough did passage win, 
 And parted Afric from the land of Spain ; 
 
 Abila hence, thence Calpe great up springs, 
 
 Such power hath time to change the face of things. 
 
118 THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 Four times the sun had spread his morning ray 
 
 Since first the dame iaunch'd forth her wond'rous 
 
 And never yet took port in creek or hay, [harge, 
 But fairly forward hore the knights her charge ; 
 
 Now through the strait her jolly ship made way, 
 And boldly saii'd upon the ocean large ; 
 
 But if the sea in midst of earth was great, 
 
 O what was this wherein earth hath her seat ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Now deep engulphed in the mighty flood, 
 
 They saw not Gades nor the mountains near ; 
 
 Fled was the land and towns on land that stood, 
 Heav'n cover' d sea, sea seem'd the heav'ns to bear. 
 
 At last -Fair lady, (quoth Ubaldo good,) 
 
 That in this endless main doth guide us here, 
 
 If ever man before here sailed tell, 
 
 Or other lands here be wherein men dwell ? 
 
 Great Hercules (quoth she) when he had quell'd 
 The monsters fierce in Afric and in Spain, 
 
 And all along your coasts and countries saii'd, 
 Yet durst he not assay the ocean main ; 
 
 Within his pillars would he have impal'd 
 The over-daring wit of mankind vain ; 
 
 Till Lord Ulysses did those bounders pass, 
 
 To see and know he so desirous was : 
 
 He pass'd those pillars, and in open wave 
 Of the broad sea first his bold sails untwin'd ; 
 
 But yet the greedy ocean was his grave, 
 
 Nought helped him his skill 'gainst tide and wind; 
 
 With him all witness of his voyage brave 
 Lies buried there, no truth thereof we find ; 
 
 And they whom storm hath forced that way since 
 
 Are drowned all, or unretura'd from thence : 
 
BOOK XV. OF JERUSALEM. ll ( J 
 
 So that this mighty sea is yet unsought, 
 
 Where thousand isles and kingdoms lie unknown ; 
 
 Not void of men as some have vainly thought, 
 But peopled well and wormed like your own : 
 
 The land is fertile ground, but scant well wrought, 
 Air wholesome, temp'rate sun, grass proudly 
 
 But (quoth Ubaldo) dame, I pray thee teach, [grown. 
 
 Of that hid world what be the laws and speech.^- 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 As divers be their nations, (answer'd she,) 
 Their tongues, their rites, their laws so different are ; 
 
 Some pray to beasts, some to a stone or tree, 
 Some to the earth, the sun, or morning star : 
 
 Their meats unwholesome, vile y and hateful be, 
 Some eat man's flesh and captives ta'eu in war; 
 
 And all from Calpe's mountain west that dwell, 
 
 In faith profane, iu life are rude and fell. 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 But will our gracious God (the knight reply'd) 
 That with his blood all sinful men hath bought, 
 
 His truth for ever and his Gospel hide 
 
 From ail those lands, as yet unknown, unsought ? 
 
 O no, (quoth she,) his name both far and wide 
 
 Shall there be known, all learning thither brought ; 
 
 Nor shall these long and tedious ways for ever, [sever, 
 
 Your world and theirs, their lands your kingdoms 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The time shall come that sailors shall disdain 
 
 To talk or argue of Alcides' strait ; 
 And lands and seas that nameless yet remain, 
 
 Shall well be known, their bounders, site, and seat 
 The ships encompass shall the solid main, 
 
 As far as seas outstretch their waters great, 
 And measure all the world ; and with the sun, 
 About this earth, this globe, this compass run. 
 
120 THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 A knight of Genes shall have the hardiment 
 Upon this wond'rous voyage first to wend ; 
 
 Nor winds nor waves that ships in sunder rent, 
 Nor seas tinus'd, strange clime, or pool uuken'd, 
 
 Nor other peril nor astonishment, 
 
 That makes frail hearts of men to bow and bend, 
 
 Within Abila' strait shall keep and hold 
 
 The noble spirit of this sailor bold : 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Thy ship, Columbus, shall her canvas wing 
 Spread o'er that world that yet concealed lies; 
 
 That scant swift Fame her looks shall after bring, 
 Though thousand plumes she have and thousand 
 
 Let her of Bacchus and Alcides sing, [eyes: 
 
 Of thee to future age let this suffice, 
 
 That of thine acts slie some forewarning give, 
 
 Which shall in verse and noble story live. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Thus talking, swift 'twixt south and west they run, 
 And sliced out 'twixt froth and foam their way; 
 
 At once they saw before the setting sun, 
 Behind the rising beam of springing day ; 
 
 And when the morn her drops and dews begun 
 To scatter broad upon the flow'ring lay, 
 
 Far off a hill and mountain high they spy'd, 
 
 Whose top the clouds environ, clothe and hide. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And drawing near, the hill at ease they view, 
 
 When all the clouds were molten, fallen and fled ; 
 
 Whose top, pyramid-wise, did pointed shew, 
 
 High, narrow, sharp, the sides yet more outspread ; 
 
 Thence now and then fire, flame, and smoke out flew, 
 As from that hill where under lies in bed 
 
 Enceladtis, whence with imperious sway 
 
 Bright fire breaks out by night, black smoke by day. 
 
JJOOK XY. OF JERUSALEM. 121 
 
 About the hill lay other islands small, 
 
 Whereother rocks. crags,clifts, and mountains stood; 
 The Isles Fortunate those elder times did call, 
 
 To. which high heav'n they feign'd so kind and good, 
 And of his blessings rich so liberal, 
 
 That without tillage earth gives corn for food ; 
 And grapes, that swell with sweet and precious wine, 
 There, without pruning, yields the fertile vine ; 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 The olive fat there ever buds and flow'rs, 
 The honey drops from hollow oaks distil, 
 
 The falling brook her silver streams down pours, 
 With gentle murmur from their native hill ; 
 
 The western blast temp'reth with dews and show'rs 
 The sunny rays, lest heat the blossoms kill; 
 
 The Fields Elysian (as fond heathens feign) 
 
 Were there, where souls of men in bliss remain. 
 
 To these their pilot steer'd And now (quoth she) 
 Your voyage long to end is brought well near; 
 
 The happy Isles of Fortune now you see, 
 
 Of which great fame, and little truth, you hear ; 
 
 Sweet, wholesome, pleasant, fertile, fat, they be, 
 Yet not so rich as fame reports they were. 
 
 This said, towards an island fresh she bore, 
 
 The first of teu that lie next Africk's shore. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 When Charles thus If, worthy governess, 
 To our good speed such tarryanee be no let* 
 
 Upon this isle that heav'n so fair doth bless, 
 To view the place, on land awhile us set ; 
 
 To know the folk, and what God they confess, 
 And ail whereby man's heart may knowledge get, 
 
 That I may tell the wonders therein seen, 
 
 Another day, and say there have I been. 
 
122 THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 She answer' d him Well fits this high desire 
 Thy nohle heart, yet cannot I consent, 
 
 For heav'n's decree, firm, stable, and entire, 
 Thy wish repugns, and 'gainst thy will is bent} 
 
 Nor yet the time hath Titan's gliding fire 
 Mete forth, prtfix'd for this discoverment; 
 
 Nor is it lawful of the ocean main 
 
 That you the secrets know, or known explain. 
 XL. 
 
 To you, withoulen needle, map, or card, 
 
 ITs given to pass these seas, and there arrive 
 
 Where in strong prison lies your knight imbarr'd, 
 And of her prey jou must the witch deprive : 
 
 If further to aspire you he prepared, 
 
 In vain 'gainst fate and heav'n's decree you strive. 
 
 W T hile thus she said, the first-seen isle gave place, 
 
 And high and rough the second shew'd his face. 
 
 XLF. 
 They saw how eastward stretch'd in order long, 
 
 The happy islands sweetly flow'ring lay ; 
 And how the seas betwixt those isles inthrong, 
 
 And how they shoulder'd land from land away. 
 In seven of them the people rude among 
 
 The shady trees their sheds had built of clay ; 
 The rest lay waste, unless wild beasts unseen, 
 Or wanton nymphs, roam'd on the mountains green. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 A secret place they found in one of those, 
 
 Where the cleft shore sea in his bosom takes, 
 
 And 'twixt his stretched arms cloth fold and close 
 An ample bay ; a rock the haven makes, 
 
 Which to the main doth his broad back oppose, 
 Whereon the roaring billow cleaves and breaks; 
 
 And here and there two crags, like turrets high, 
 
 Point forth a port to all that sail thereby. 
 
JJOOK XV. OF JERUSALEM. 123 
 
 The quiet seas below lie safe and still, 
 
 The greenwood like a garland grows aloft ; 
 
 Sweet caves within, cool shades, and waters shrill, 
 Where lie the nymphs on moss and ivy soft: 
 
 No anchor there needs hold her frigate still, 
 Nor cable twisted sure, though breaking oft. 
 
 Into this desert, silent, quiet glade, 
 
 Enter' d the dame, and there her haven made. 
 
 XL1V. 
 
 The palace proudly built (quoth she) behold, 
 That sits on top of yonder mountain's height, 
 
 Of Christ's true faith there lies the champion bold, 
 In idleness, love, fancy, folly light. 
 
 When Phcebus shall his rising beams unfold, 
 Prepare you 'gainst the htll to mount upright; 
 
 Nor let this stay in your bold hearts breed care, 
 
 For, save that one, all hours unlucky are : 
 
 XLV. 
 
 But yet this evening (if you make good speed) 
 
 To that hill's foot with day-light might you pass. 
 
 This said, the dame their guide and they agreed, 
 And took their leave, and leap'd forth on the grass: 
 
 They found the way that to the hill doth lead, 
 And softly went that neither tired was; 
 
 But at the mountain's foot they both arrived 
 
 Before the suu his team in waters dived. 
 
 XLV I. 
 
 They saw how from the crags and clifts below 
 His proud and stalely pleasant top grew out, 
 
 And how his sides were clad with frost and snow; 
 The height was green with herbs and flow'rets sout, 
 
 Like hairy locks the trees about him grow, 
 The rocks of ice keep watch and ward about 
 
 The tender roses and the lilies new; 
 
 Thus art can nature change, and kind subdue* 
 
124 THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 Within a thick, a dark, and shady plot, 
 
 At the hill's foot that night the warriors dwell ; 
 
 But when the sun his rays, bright shitting, hot, 
 Dispred, of golden light th' eternal well, 
 
 Up, up ! they cried, and fiercely up they got, 
 And climbed boldly 'gainst the mountain fell; 
 
 But forth there crept (from whence I cannot say) 
 
 An ugly serpent which forestall'd their way; 
 
 XLVIII. 
 Armed with golden scales, his head and crest 
 
 He lifted high, his neck swell'd great with ire, 
 Flamed his eyes, and hiding with his breast 
 
 All the broad path, he poison breath'd and fire; 
 Now reach'd he forth in folds and forward press'd, 
 
 Now would he back in roils and heaps retire : 
 Thus be presents himself to guard the place; 
 The knights press'd forward with assured pace. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Charles drew forth his brand to strike the snake : 
 Ubaldo cried Stay, my companion dear, 
 
 Will you with sword or wenpon battaile make 
 Against this monster that affronts us here ? - 
 
 This said, he 'gan his charmed rod to shake, 
 So that the serpent durst not hiss for fear, 
 
 But fled, and dead for dread fell on the grass, 
 
 And so the passage plain, eath, open was. 
 
 L. 
 
 A little higher on the way they met 
 
 A lion fierce, that hugely roar'd and cry'd ; 
 
 His crest he reared high, and open set 
 
 Of his broad gaping jaws the furnace wide, 
 
 His stern his back oft smote his rage touwhet: 
 But when the sacred staff he onceespy'd, 
 
 A trembling fear through his bold heart was spread, 
 
 His native wrath was gone, aod swift he fled. 
 
BOOK XY. O'F JERUSALEM. 125 
 
 The hardy couple on their way forth wend, 
 And met an host, that on them roar and gape, 
 
 Of savage beasts, tofore unseen, unken'd. 
 
 Differing in voice, in semblance, and in shape J 
 
 All monsters which hot Afric doth forth send, 
 'Twixt Nilus, Atlas, and the southern cape, 
 
 Were all there met, and all wild beasts besides 
 
 Hircania breeds or Hircane forests hides. 
 
 But yet that fierce, that strange, and savage host, 
 Could not in presence of those worthies stand. 
 
 But fled away, their heart and courage lost, 
 When Lord (Jbaldo shook his charming wand. 
 
 No other let their passage stopp'd or c rost, 
 
 Till on the mountain's top themselves they fand, 
 
 Save that the ice, the frost, and drifted snow, 
 
 Oft made them feeble, weary, faint, and slow : 
 
 MIL 
 But having passed all that frozen ground, 
 
 And overgone that winter sharp and keen, 
 A warm, mild, pleasant, gentle sky they found, 
 
 That overspread a large and ample green ; 
 The winds breath'd spikenard, myrrh, and balm around, 
 
 The blasts there firm, unchanged, stable been; 
 Nor as elsewhere the winds now rise now fall, 
 And Phoebus there aye shines, sets not at all : 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Not as elsewhere, now sunshine bright, now show'rs. 
 Now heat, now cold, there interchanged were, 
 
 But everlasting spring mild heav'n down pours, 
 In which nor rain, nor storm, nor clouds appear; 
 
 Nursing to fields their grass, to grass his flowers, 
 To flowers their smell, to trees the leaves they bear. 
 
 There by a lake a stately palace stands, 
 
 That overlooks all mountains, seas, and lands. 
 
12(J THE RECOVERY BOOK XV. 
 
 The passage hard against the mountain steep 
 These travellers had faint and weary made, 
 
 That through those grassy plains they scantly creep, 
 They walk'd, they rested oft, they went, they stay'd ; 
 
 When from the rocks that seem'd for joy to weep, 
 Before their feet a dropping crystal play'd, 
 
 Enticing them to drink, and on the flow'rs 
 
 The plenteous spring a thousand streams down pours. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 AH which united, in the springing grass 
 
 Eat forth a channel through the tender green, 
 
 And underneath eternal shade did pass, 
 
 With murmur shrill, cold, pure, and scantly seen ; 
 
 Yet so transparent that perceived was 
 
 The bottom rich, and sands that golden been; 
 
 And on the brims the silken grass aloft 
 
 Proffer'd them seats, sweet, easy, fresh, and soft. 
 
 I/VII. 
 
 See here the stream of laughter, see the spring 
 (Quoth they) of danger and of deadly pain ; 
 
 Here fond desire must by fair governing 
 
 Be rul'd, our lust bridled with wisdom's rein ; 
 
 Our ears be stopped while these syrens sing, 
 Their notes enticing man to pleasure vain. 
 
 Thus past they forward where the stream did make 
 
 An ample pond, a large and spacious lake : 
 LVIII. 
 
 There on a table was all dainty food 
 
 That sea, that earth, or liquid air could give ; 
 
 And in the crystal of the laughing flood 
 
 They saw two naked virgins bathe and dive, 
 
 That sometimes toying, sometimes wrestling stood, 
 Sometimes for speed and skill in swimming strive-; 
 
 Now underneath they div'd, now rose above, 
 
 And Hieing baits laid forth of lust and love: 
 
BOOK XV. OF JERUSALEM. 127 
 
 These naked wantons, lender, fair, and white, 
 Moved so far the warriors' stuhhorn hearts, 
 
 That on their shapes they gazed with delight; 
 The nymphs applied 1 heir sweet alluring arts, 
 
 And one of them above the waters quite 
 
 Lift up her head, her breasts, and higher parts, 
 
 And all that might weak eyes suhdue and take ; 
 
 Her lower beauties veil'd the gentle lake. 
 
 LX. 
 
 As when the morning star escaped and fled 
 From greedy waves with dewy beams up flies, 
 
 Or as the queen of love, new born and bred 
 Of th' ocean's fruitful froth, did first arise ; 
 
 So vented she, her golden locks forth shed 
 
 Round pearis and crystal moist therein which lies : 
 
 But when her eyes upon the knights she cast, 
 
 She start, and feign'd her of their sight aghast ; 
 
 LXI. 
 
 And her fair locks, that on a knot were tied 
 High on her crown, she 'gan at large unfold ; 
 
 Which failing long and thick, and spreading wide, 
 The ivory soft and white mantled in gold : 
 
 Thus her fair skin the dame would clothe and hide, 
 And that which hid it no less fair was hold : 
 
 Thus clad in waves and locks, her eyes divine 
 
 From them ashamed did she turn and twine: 
 
 Withal she smiled, and she blush'd withal, 
 
 Her blush her smiling, smiles her blushing graced 5 
 
 Over her face her amber tresses fall, 
 
 Whereunder love himself in ambush placed: 
 
 At last she warbled forth a treble small, 
 
 And with sweet looks her sweet songs interlaced : 
 
 O happy men ! that have the grace (quoth she) 
 
 This bliss, this heav'n, this paradise to see ; 
 
128 THE RECOVERY 
 
 This is the place wherein you may assuage 
 Your sorrows past, here is that joy and bliss 
 
 That flourisird in the antique golden age; 
 
 Here needs no law, here none dolh aught amiss ( 
 
 Put off those arms, and fear not Mars his rage 
 Your sword, your shield, your helmet needless is; 
 
 Then consecrate them here to endless rest, 
 
 You shall love's champions be and soldiers blest. 
 
 LX1V. 
 
 The fields for combat here are beds of down, 
 
 Or henped lilies under shady brakes: 
 But come and see our queen with golden crown, 
 
 That all her servants blest and happy makes; 
 She will admit you gently for her own, 
 
 Numbered with those that of her joy partakes: 
 But first within this lake your dust and sweat 
 Wash off, and at that table sit and eat. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 While thus she sung, her sister lur'd them nigh, 
 With many a gesture kind and loving show, 
 
 To music's sound as dames in court apply 
 
 Their cunning feet, and dance now swift now slow. 
 
 But still the knights unmoved passed by, 
 
 These vain delights for wicked charms they know; 
 
 Nor could their heav'nly voice or angel's look 
 
 Surprise their hearts, if eye or ear they took : 
 
 LX<VI. 
 
 For if that sweetness once but touch'd their hearts, 
 And proffer'd there to kindle Cupid's fire, 
 
 Straight armed reason to his charge upstarts, 
 And quenchelh lust <ind killeth fond desire: 
 
 Thus scorned were the dames, their wiles and arts, 
 And to the palace gates the knights retire, 
 
 While in their streams the damsels dived sad, 
 
 Asham'd, disgrac'd, for that repulse they had. 
 
*OOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 129 
 
 BOOK XVI. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The searchers pass through all the palace bright, 
 
 Where in sweet prison lies Rinaldo pent, 17 
 
 And do so much, that full of rage and spite, 27 
 
 IVith them he goes, sad, shamed, discontent. 35 
 
 With plaints and prayers to retain her knight 36 
 
 Armida strives: he hears, but thence he went : 60 
 
 And she forlorn, her palace great and fair 
 
 Destroys for grief, andjlies thence through the air. 
 
 THE palace great is builded rich and round, 
 
 And in the centre of the inmost hold 
 There lies a garden sweet on fertile ground, 
 
 Fairer than that where grew the trees of gold. 
 The cunning sprites had buildings rear'd around, 
 
 With doors and entries false a thousand fold? 
 A labyrinth they made thai fortress brave, 
 Like Dedal's prison, or Porsenna's grave. 
 
 n. 
 
 The knights pass'd through the castle's largest gate, 
 (Though roundabout an hundred ports there shine,) 
 
 The door leaves tram'd of carved silver plate 
 Upon their golden hinges turn and twine : 
 
 They stay'd to view this work of wit and state, 
 The workmanship excell'd the substance fine, 
 
 For all the shapes in that rich metal wrought, 
 -,Save speech, of living bodies wanted nought: 
 
130 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 Alcides there sat telling tales, and spun 
 Among the feeble troops of damsels mild ; 
 
 (He that the fiery gates O f hell had won, 
 
 And heav'n upheld*;) false love stood by and smiPd : 
 
 Arm'd with his club fair lolee forth run, 
 
 His club with blood of monsters foul defil'd; 
 
 And on her back his lion's skin had she, 
 
 Too rough a bark for such a tender tree. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Beyond was made a sea, whose azure flood 
 The hoary froth crush'd from the surges blue, 
 
 Wherein two navies great well-ranged stood 
 
 Of warlike ships, fire from their arms out flew ; 
 
 The waters burnt about their vessels good, 
 Such flames the gold therein enchased threw ; 
 
 Cffisar his Romans hence, the Asian kings 
 
 Thence Antony and Indian princes, brings: 
 
 v. 
 
 The Cyclades seem'd to swim amid the main, [smote; 
 
 And hill "gainst hill and mount 'gainst mountain 
 With such great fury met those armies twain, 
 
 Here burnt a ship, there sunk a bark or boat ; 
 Here darts and wildfire flew, there drown'd or slain 
 
 Of princes dead the bodies fleet and float ; 
 Here Caesar wins, and yonder conquer'd been 
 The eastern ships, there fled th' Egyptian queen : 
 
 TI. 
 
 Antonius eke himself to flight betook, 
 
 The empire lost to which he would aspire; 
 
 Yet fled not he,, nor tight for fear forsook, 
 But follow'd her, drawn on by fond desire : 
 
 Well might you see, within his troubled look, 
 
 Strive and contend love, courage, shame, and ire ; 
 
 Oft look'd he back, oft gaz'd he on the fight, 
 
 But oft'uer on his mistress and her flight : 
 
BOOK XTI. Of JERUSALEM. 131 
 
 Then in the secret creeks of fruitful Nile, 
 Cast in her lap he would sad death await, 
 
 And in the pleasure of her lovely smile 
 Sweeten the bitter stroke of cursed fate. 
 
 AH this did art with curious hand compile 
 In the rich metal of that princely gate. 
 
 The knights these stories viewed first and last, 
 
 Which seen, they forward pressed and in they pass'd. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 As through his channel crook'd Meander glides 
 With turns and twines, and rolls now to now fro, 
 
 Whose streams run forth there to the salt sea sides, 
 Here hack return, and to their spring-ward go : 
 
 Such crooked paths, such ways this palace hides j 
 Yet all the maze their map described so, 
 
 That through the labyrinth they got ill fine, 
 
 As Theseus did by Ariadne's line. 
 
 IX. 
 
 When they had passed all those troubled ways, 
 The garden sweet spread forth her green to shew, 
 
 The moving crystal from the fountains plays, 
 
 Fair trees, high plants, strange herbs, and flow'rets 
 
 Sun -shiny hills, dales hid from Phcebus' rays, [new, 
 Groves, arbours, mossy caves, at once they "view ; 
 
 And that which beauty most, most wonder brought, 
 
 No where appear' d the art which all this wrought. 
 x. 
 
 So with the rude the polish'd mingled was, 
 That natural seem'd all, and every part 
 
 Nature would craft in counterfeiting pass, 
 And imitate her imitator art. 
 
 Mild was the air, the skies were clear as glass, 
 The trees no whirlwind felt nor tempest's smart, 
 
 But ere their fruit drop off the blossom conies ; 
 
 This springs, that fulls, that rip'neth, and this blooms- 
 K 2 
 
132 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 XI. 
 The leaves upon the self-same bough did hide, 
 
 Beside the young, the old find ripened fig ; 
 Here fruit was green, there ripe with vermeil side, 
 
 The apples new and old grew on one twig ; 
 The fruitful vine her arms spread high and wide, 
 
 Thai bended underneath their clusters big; 
 The grnpes wert tender here, hard, young, and sour, 
 There purple, ripe, and nectar sweet forth pour. 
 
 xii. 
 
 The joyous birds, hid under greenwood shade, 
 Sung merry notes on every branch and bough ; 
 
 The wind, that in the leaves and waters play'd, 
 With murmur sweet now sang, and whistled now; 
 
 Ceased the birds, the wind loud answer made, 
 And while they sung it rumbled soft and low: 
 
 Thus, were it hap or cunning, chance or art, 
 
 The wind in this strange music bore his part. 
 
 With pnrty- coloured plumes and purple bill, 
 A wond'rotis bird among the rest there flew, 
 
 That in plain speech sung lovelays loud and shrill, 
 Her leden was like human language true ; 
 
 So much she talk'd, and with such wit and skill, 
 That strange it seemed how much good she knew; 
 
 Her fcather'd fellows all stood hush'd to hear, 
 
 Dumb was the wind, the waters silent were. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The gently-budding rose (quoth she) behold, 
 That first scan* peeping forth with virgin beams, 
 
 Half ope, half shut, her beauties doth tip-fold 
 In their dear leaves, and less seen fairer seems, 
 
 And after spreads them forth more broad and bold, 
 Then languisheth and dies in last extremes : 
 
 Nor seems the same that decked bed and bow'r 
 
 Of many a lady late and paramour : 
 
HOOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 133 
 
 So in the passing of a day doth pass 
 
 The bud and blossom of the life of man, 
 
 Nor e'er doth flourish more, but like the grass 
 Cut down, becomelh withered, pale, and wan : 
 
 O gather then the rose while time thou has. 
 Short is the day, done when it scant began ; 
 
 Gather the rose of love while yet thou may'st, 
 
 Loving be lov'd, embracing be embrac'd. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 He ceas'd ; and as approving all he spoke, 
 
 The choir of birds their heav'nly tunes renew ; 
 
 The turtles sigh'd and sighs with kisses broke, 
 The fowls to shades unseen by pairs withdrew ; 
 
 It seeni'd the laurel chaste and stubborn oak, 
 And all the gentle trees on earth that grew, 
 
 It seem'd the land, the sea, and heav'n above, 
 
 All breath'd out fancy sweet and sigh'd out love. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Through all this music rare and strong consent [sure, 
 Of strange allurements, sweet 'bove mean and mea- 
 
 Severe, firm, constant, still the knights forth went, 
 Hard'ning their hearts 'gainst false enticing pleasure, 
 
 'Twixt leaf ana" leaf their sight before they sent, 
 And after crept themselves at ease and leisure, 
 
 Till they beheld the queen sit with their knight 
 
 Beside the lake, shaded with boughs from sight : 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Her breasts were naked, for the day was hot, 
 Her locks unbound wav'd in the wanton wind ; 
 
 Some deal she sweat, (tir'd with the game you wot,) 
 Her sweat-drop/? bright, white, round, like pearls of 
 
 Her humid eyes a fiery smile forth shot, [Inde j 
 
 That like suu-beams in silver fountains shin'd ; 
 
 O'er him her looks she hung, and her soft breast 
 
 The pillow was where he and love took rest : 
 
134 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 XIX. 
 His hungry eyes upon her face he fed, 
 
 And feeding them so pin'd himself away; 
 And she, declining often down her head, 
 
 His lips, his cheeks, his eyes kiss'd as he lay; 
 Wherewith he sigh'd, as if his soul had fled 
 
 From his frail breast to hers, and there would staj 
 With her beloved sprite. The armed pair 
 These follies all beheld and this hot fair. 
 
 xx. 
 
 Down by the lovers' side there pendant was 
 A crystal mirror, bright, pure, smooth, and neat; 
 
 He rose and to his mistress held the glass, 
 
 (A noble page grac'd with that service great;) 
 
 She with glad looks, he with inflam'd, (alas !) 
 Beauty and love beheld both in one seat ; 
 
 Yet them in sundry objects each espies, 
 
 She in the glass, he saw them in her eyes : 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Her to command, to serve it pleas'd the knight; 
 
 He proud of bondage, of her empire she. 
 My dear, (she said,) that blesseth with thy sight 
 
 Even blessed angels, turn thine eyes to me, 
 For painted in my heart and pourtray'd right, 
 
 Thy worth, thy beauties, and perfections be; 
 Of which the form, the shape, and fashion best, 
 Not in this glass is seen, but in my breast ; 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And if thou me disdain, yet be content 
 
 At least so to behold thy lovely hue, 
 That while thereon thy looks are fix'd and bent, 
 
 Thy happy eyes themselves may see and view; 
 So rare a shape no crystal can present, 
 
 No glass contain that heav'n of beauties true r 
 O let the skies thy worthy mirror be, 
 And in clear stars thy shape and image see ! 
 
BOOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 135 
 
 And with that word she smil'd, and nevertheless 
 Her love-toys still she us'd and pleasures bold. 
 
 Her hair, that done, she twisted up in tres, 
 And looser locks in silken laces roll'd ; 
 
 Her curls in garland- wise she did up-dress, 
 Wherein (like rich enamel laid on gold) 
 
 The twisted flow'rets smil'd ; and her white breast, 
 
 The lilies there that spring, with roses dress'd : 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The jolly peacock spreads not half so fair 
 The eyed feathers of his pompous train ; 
 
 Nor golden Iris so bends in the air 
 
 Her twenty-colour' d bow through clouds of rain: 
 
 Yet all her ornaments, strange, rich, and rare, 
 Her girdle did in price and beauty stain ; 
 
 Not that (with scorn) which Tuscan Guilla lost, 
 
 Nor Venus' ceston could match this for cost: 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Of mild denays, of tender scorns, of sweet 
 
 Repulses, war, peace, hope, despair, joy, fear, 
 
 Of smiles, jests, mirth, woe, grief, and sad regret, 
 Sighs, sorrows, tears, embracemeuts, kisses dear, 
 
 That mixed first by weight and measure meet, 
 Then at an easy fire attemper'd were, 
 
 This wond'rous girdle did Armida frame, 
 
 And when she would be loved wore the same: 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 But when her wooing fit was brought to end, 
 She congee took, kiss'd him, and went her way ; 
 
 For once she used every day to wend 
 
 'Bout her affairs, her spells and charms to say. 
 
 The youth remain'*!, yet had no power t bend 
 One step from thence, but used there to stray - 
 
 'Mongst the sweet birds, through every walk and 
 
 Alone, save for aii hermit false ca41'd Love : [grove, 
 
136 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVK 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 And when the silence deep and friendly shade 
 Recall'd the lovers to their wonted sport, 
 
 In a fair room for pleasure built they lay'd, 
 
 And longest nights with joys made sweet and short. 
 
 Now while the queen her household things surveyed, 
 And left her lord, her garden, and disport, 
 
 The twain that hidden in the bushes were, 
 
 -Before the Prince in glist'ring arms appear. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 As the fierce steed for age withdrawn from war, 
 Wherein the glorious beast had always won, 
 
 That in vile rest, from fight sequester'd far, 
 
 Fe'd$ with the mares at large } his service done; 
 
 If arms he see, or hear the trumpet's jar, 
 He neigheth loud, and thither fast doth run, 
 
 And wisheth on his back the armed knight, 
 
 Longing for jousts, for tournament, and fight ; 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 So far'd Rinaldo when the glorious light 
 Of their bright harness glister'd in his eyes, 
 
 His noble sprite awaked at that sight, 
 
 His blood began to warm, his heart to rise; 
 
 Though drunk with ease, devoid of wonted might, 
 On sleep till then his weaken'd virtue lies. 
 
 Ubaldo forward slept, and to him held 
 
 Of diamonds clear that pure and precious shield : 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Upon the targe his looks amaz'd he bent, 
 And therein all his wanton habit spied, 
 
 His civet, balm, and perfumes redolent, 
 
 How from his locks they smok'd and mantle wide ; 
 
 His sword, that many a Pagan stout had shent, 
 Bewapt with liow'rs hung idly by his side, 
 
 So nicely decked that it seem'd the knight 
 
 Wore it for fashion sake, but not for fight. 
 
BOOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 137 
 
 As when from sleep and iJle dreams abray'd 
 A man awak'd calls home ins wits again, 
 
 'So in beholding his attire he play'd, 
 
 But yet to view himself could not sustain ; 
 
 His looks he downward cast and nought he said, 
 Griev'd, shamed, sad, he would have died fain; 
 
 And oft he wish'd the earth or ocean wide 
 
 Would swallow him, and so his errors hide. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Ubaldo took the time and thus begun : 
 
 All Europe now and Asia be in war ; 
 And ail that Christ adore, and fame have won 
 
 In baitaiie strong, in Syria fighting are; 
 But thee alone (Bertoldo's noble son) 
 
 This litile corner keeps, exiled far 
 From a!l the world, buried in sloth and shame, 
 A carpet champion for a wanton dame ! 
 
 XXX11I. 
 
 What letharge hath in drowsiness uppend 
 
 Thy courage thus? What sloth doth thee infect^ 
 
 Up ! up ! our camp and Godfrey for Ihee seud, 
 Thee fortune, praise, and victory expect: 
 
 Come, fatal champion, bring to happy end 
 This enterprise begun, and all that sect 
 
 (Which oft thoii shaken hast) to earth full low 
 
 With thy sharp brand strike down, kill, overthrow.- 
 xxxiv. 
 
 This said, the noble infant stood a space 
 
 Confused, speechless, senseless, ill, ashamed ; 
 
 But when that shame to just disdain gave place, 
 To fierce disdain, from courage sprung untamed, 
 
 Another redness blushed through his face, 
 
 Whence worthy auger shone, displeasure flamed; 
 
 His nice attire in scorn he rent and tore, 
 
 For of his bondage vile that witness bore : 
 
138 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 That done, he hnsted from the charmed fort. 
 
 And through the maze pass'd with his searchers 
 
 Armida of her mount and chietest port [twain. 
 
 Wonder' d to find the furious keeper slain ; 
 
 Awhile she feared, hut she knew in short 
 
 That her dear lord was fled; then saw she plain 
 
 (Ah woeful sight !) how from her gates the man 
 
 In haste, in fear, in wrath, in anger ran. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Whither, cruel ! leav'st thou me alone ? 
 
 She would have cried ; her grief her speeches stay'd^ 
 
 So that her woeful words are backward gone, 
 And in her heart a hitter echo made : 
 
 Poor soul ! of greater skill than she was one 
 
 Whose knowledge from her thus her joy convey'd; 
 
 This wist she well, yet had desire to prove 
 
 If art could keep, if charms recall her love. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 All what the witches of Thessalia land 
 With |ips impure yet ever said or spake, 
 
 Words that could make heav'ns rolling circles stand, 
 And draw the damned ghosts from Limbo lake, 
 
 All well she knew, hnt yet no time she fund 
 To use her knowledge or her charms to make, 
 
 But left her arts, and forth she ran to prove 
 
 If single beauty were best charm for love : 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 She rnn, nor of her honour took regard : 
 
 (Oh where be all her vaunts and triumphs now ? 
 
 Love's empire great of late she made or inar'd, 
 To her his subjects humbly bend and bow, 
 
 And with her pride mix'd was a scorn so hard, 
 That to be lov'd she lov'd ; yet whilst they woo, 
 
 Her lovers all she hates ; that pleas'd her will, 
 
 To conquer men, and conquer'U, so to kill :) 
 
BOOK XVI. Of JERUSALEM. 139 
 
 But now herself disdain'd, abandoned, 
 
 Ran after him that from her fled in scorn, 
 
 And her despised beauty laboured 
 
 With humble plaints and prayers to adorn; 
 
 She ran and hasted after him that fled, [thorn ; 
 
 Through frost and snow, through brier, bush, and 
 
 And sent her cries on message her before, 
 
 That reach'd not him till he had reach'd the shore. - 
 
 O thou that leav'st but half behind (quoth she) 
 Of my poor heart, and half with thee dost carry, 
 
 O take this part, or render that to me, 
 
 Else kill them both at once : ah ! tarry, tarry, 
 
 Hear rny last words; no parting kiss of thee 
 I crave, for some more fit with thee to marry 
 
 Keep them : unkind ! what fear'st thou if thou stay ? 
 
 Thou raay'st deny as well as run away. 
 
 XLJ. 
 
 At this Rinaldo stopp'd, stood still, and stay'd* 
 She came, sad, breathless, weary, faint, and weak, 
 
 So woe-begone was never nymph or maid ; 
 
 And yet her beauty's pride grief could not break : 
 
 On him she look'd, she gaz'd, but nought she said ; 
 She would not, could not, or she durst not speak. 
 
 At her he look'd not, glanc'd not ; if he did, 
 
 Those glances ahamefast were, close, secret, hid. 
 
 As cunning singers, ere they strain on high 
 In loud melodious tunes their gentle voice, 
 
 Prepare the hearers' ears to harmony, 
 
 With feignings sweet, low notes, and warble* choice j 
 
 So she, not having yet forgot pardie 
 
 Her woiiteil shifts and sleights in Cupid's toys, 
 
 A sequence first of sighs and sob* forth cast 
 
 To breed compassion dear, then spake at last : 
 
140 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 Suppose not, cruel ! that I come to woo 
 Or pray, as ladies do their loves and lords; 
 
 Such were we late, if thou disdain it now, 
 Or scorn to grant such grace as love affords, 
 
 Af least yet as an en' my listen thou, 
 
 Sworn foes sometime will talk and chaffer words ; 
 
 For what 1 ask thee may'st thou grant right well, 
 
 And lessen nought thy wrath and anger fell : 
 XLIV. 
 
 If me thou hate, and in that hate delight, 
 1 come not to appease thee, hate me still ; 
 
 It's like for like ; 1 hore great hate and spite 
 'Gainst Christians all, chiefly I wish' d thee ill : 
 
 1 was a Pagan born, and all my might 
 
 Against Godfredo bent, mine art and skill ; 
 
 I folio w'd thee, took thee, and bore thee far 
 
 To this strange isle, and kept thee safe from war; 
 
 XLV. 
 
 And more, which more thy hate may justly move, 
 More to thy loss, more to thy shame and grief, 
 1 thee enchanted and allnr'd to love; 
 
 Wicked deceit, craft worthy sharp reprief ! 
 Mine honour gave I thee, all gifts above, 
 
 And of my beauty made thee lord and chief. 
 And to my suitors old what I denay'd, 
 
 That gave I thee, my lover new, unpray'd : 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 But reckon that among my faults, and let 
 Those m my wrongs provoke thee so to wrath 
 
 That hence thou run, and that at nought thou set 
 This pleasant house, so many joys which hath : 
 
 Go, travel, pass the seas, fight, conquest get, 
 Destroy our faith ; what, shall I say our faith? 
 
 Ah no ! no longer ours ; before thy shrine 
 
 Alone I pray, thou cruel saiut of mine ; 
 
BOOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 141 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Ah ! only let me go with thee, unkind ! 
 
 A small request although I were thy foe ; 
 The spoiler seldom leaves Ihe prey behind, 
 
 Who triumphs lets his captives with him go; 
 Among thy pris'ners poor Armida hind, 
 
 And let the camp increase thy praises so, 
 That thy beguiler so thou could'st beguile, 
 And point at me thy thrall and bondslave vile ; 
 
 Despised bondslave, since my lord doth hate 
 
 These locks, why keep 1 them or hold them dear ? 
 
 Come cut them off, that to my servile state 
 My habit answer may and all my gear : 
 
 I follow thee in spite of death and fate 
 
 Through battles tierce where dangers most appear; 
 
 Courage I have and strength enough, perchance, 
 
 To lead thy courser spare and bear thy lance : 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 I will or bear, or be myself thy shield, 
 
 And to defend thy life will lose mine own ; 
 
 This breast, this bosom soft, shall be thy bield 
 
 'Gainst storms of arrows, darts, and weapons thrown ; 
 
 Thy foes pardie encount'ring thee in field, 
 
 Will spare to strike thee (mine affection known), 
 
 Lest me they wound, nor will sharp veng'ance take 
 
 On thee, for this despised beauty's sake. 
 
 L. 
 
 O wretch ! dare 1 still vaunt or help invoke 
 
 From this poor beauty, scorned and disdained ? 
 
 She said no more, her tears her speeches broke, [rained; 
 Which from her eyes like streams from springs down 
 
 She would havo caught him by the hand or doke, 
 But he stepp'd backward and himself restrained ; 
 
 Conquer'd his will, his heart ruth softened not, 
 
 There plaints no issue, love no entrance, got : 
 
142 THE RECOVERT BOOK XVI. 
 
 Love enter'd not to kindle in his breast- 
 
 (Which reason late had querich'd) his wonted flame; 
 Yet enier'd pity in the place at least, 
 
 (Love's sister, but a chaste and sober dame,) 
 And stirr'd him so that hardly he suppressed 
 
 The springing tears that to his eyes up came ; 
 But yet e'en there his plaints repressed were, 
 And (as he could) he look'd and feigned cheer. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Madam, (quoth he,) for your distress I grieve, 
 And would amend it if I might or could ; 
 
 From your wise heart that fond affection drive ; 
 I cannot hate nor scorn you, though I would; 
 
 I seek no vengeance, wrongs I all forgive, 
 Nor you my servant nor my foe I hold; 
 
 Truth is, you err'd, and your estate forgot ; 
 
 Too great your hate was, and your love too hot : 
 
 LI 1 1. 
 
 But these are common faults, and faults of kind, 
 Excus'd by nature, by your sex, and years: 
 
 I erred likewise ; if I pardon find, 
 
 None can condemn you that our trespass hears. 
 
 Your dear remembrance will 1 keep in mind, 
 In joys, in woes, in comforts, hopes, and fears; 
 
 Call me your soldier and your knight, as far 
 
 As Christian faith permits, and Asia's war. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Ah ! let our faults and follies here take end, 
 
 And let our errors past you satisfy ; 
 And in this angle of the world ypend, 
 
 Let both the fame and shame thereof now die: 
 From all the earth where I am known and kend 
 
 I wish this fact should yet concealed lie ; 
 Nor yet in following me, poor knight, disgrace 
 Your worth, your beauty, and your princely race : 
 
BOOK XVI. OF JERUSALEM. 143 
 
 Stay here in peace : I go, nor wend you may 
 , With me, my guide jour fellowship denies; 
 Stay here, or hence depart some better way, [wise. 
 
 And calm your thoughts, you are both sage and 
 While thus he spoke, her passions found no stay, 
 
 But here and there she turn'd and rolPd her eyes, 
 And staring ou his face awhile, at last 
 Thus in foul terms her bitter wrath forth brast: 
 
 Of Sophia fair thou never wert the child, 
 Nor of the Azzaine race ysprung thou art ; 
 
 The mad sea waves thee bore, some tygress wild 
 On Caucasus' cold crags nurs'd thee apart : 
 
 Ah cruel man ! in whom no token mild 
 Appears of pity, ruth, or tender heart, 
 
 Could not my griefs, my woes, my plaints and all, 
 
 One sigh strain from thy breast, one tear make fall ? 
 
 LVII. 
 
 What shall I say, or how renew my speech ? 
 
 He scorns me, leaves me, bids me call him mine; 
 The victor haih his foe within his reach, 
 
 Yet pardons her that merits death and pine ; 
 Hear how he counsels me, how he 'gan preach 
 
 (Like chaste Xenocrates) 'gainst love divine : 
 Oh heav'ns ! oh gods ! why do these men of shame 
 Thus spoil your temples and blaspheme your name ? 
 
 Go, cruel, go ! go with such peace, such rest, 
 Such joy, such comfort as thou leav'st me here; 
 
 My angry soul, discharg'd from this weak breast, 
 Shall haunt thee ever and attend thee near, 
 
 And fury-like, in snakes and fire-brands dress'd, 
 Shall aye torment thee whom it late held dear: 
 
 And if thou 'scape the seas, the rocks, and sands, 
 
 And come to fight amid the Pagan bands,. 
 
144 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 There lying wounded 'mongst the hurt and slain, 
 Of these my wrongs thou shalt the vengeance bear, 
 
 And oft Armida shall thou call in vain 
 
 At thy last gasp, this hope I soon to hear. 
 
 Here fainted she, with sorrow, grief, and pain, 
 Her latest words scant well expressed were, 
 
 But in a swoon on earth outstretch'd she lies, 
 
 Stiff were her frozen limbs, clos'd were her eyes. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Thou clos'd thine eyes, Armida; heav'n envied 
 Ease to thy grief or comfort to thy woe : 
 
 Ah open them again, see tears down slide 
 
 From his kind eyes whom thou esteem'st thy foe ; 
 
 If thou nadst heard, his sighs had mollify'd 
 Thine anger hard, he sigh'd and mourned so; 
 
 And, as he could, with sad and rueful look 
 
 His leave of thee and last farewell he took. 
 
 What should he do ? leave on the naked sand 
 This woeful lady, half alive, half dead ? 
 
 Kindness* forbade, pity did that withstand ; 
 
 But hard constraint, alas! did thence him lead. 
 
 Away he went, the west wind blew from land 
 'Mongst the rich tresses of their pilot's head, 
 
 And with that golden sail Ihe waves she cleft: 
 
 To land he look'd till land unseen he left. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Wak'd from her trance, forsaken, speechless, sad, 
 Armida wildly star'd and gaz'd about: 
 
 And is he gone, (quoth she,) nor pity had, 
 
 To leave me thus 'twixt life and death in doubt? 
 
 Could he not stay ? could not. the traitor lad 
 From this last trance help or recall me out ? 
 
 And do I love him still, and on this sand 
 
 Still unrevcDg'd, still mourn, still weeping stand ? 
 
BOOK XVI. Of JERUSALEM. 145 
 
 Fie ! DO : complaints farewell ! with arms and art 
 I will pursue to death this spiteful knight ; 
 
 Not earth's low centre, nor sea's deepest part, 
 
 Norheav'n, nor hell, can shield him from my might; 
 
 I will o'ertake him, take him, cleave his heart* 
 Such veng'ance fits a wronged lover's spite : 
 
 In cruelty that cruel knight surpass 
 
 I will : but what avail vain words, alas ! 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 O fool ! thou shouldest have been cruel then, 
 (For then this cruel well deserv'd thine ire,) 
 
 When thou in prison had'st entrapp'd the man ; 
 Now, dead with cold, loo late thou askest fire: 
 
 But though my wit, my cunning nothing can, 
 Some other means shall work my heart's desire : 
 
 To thee, my beauty, thine be all these wrongs, 
 
 Vengeance to thee, to thee revenge belongs ; 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Thou shalt be his reward, with murd'ring brand 
 That dare this traitor of his head deprive. 
 
 O you, my lovers, on this rock doth stand 
 The castle of her love for whom you strive ; 
 
 I, the sole heir of all Damascus' land, 
 
 For this revenge myself and kingdom give : 
 
 If by this price my will I cannot gain, 
 
 Nature gives beauty, fortune wealth in vain. 
 
 But thee, vain gift ! vain beauty ! thee I scorn, 
 I hate the kingdom which 1 have to give, 
 
 I hate myself and rue that I was born, 
 Only in hope of sweet revenge I live. 
 
 Thus raging with fell ire she 'gan return 
 
 From that bare shore in haste and homeward drive, 
 
 And as true witness of her frantic ire, 
 
 Her locks wav'd loose, face shone, eyes sparkled fire. 
 
 VOL. II, 1* 
 
146 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVI. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 When she came home, she calPd with outcries shrill 
 
 A thousand devils in Limbo deep that won ; 
 Black clouds the skies with horrid darkness fill, 
 . And pale for dread became th' eclipsed sun; 
 The whirlwind bluster'd big on every hill, 
 
 And hell to roar under her feet begun ; 
 You might have heard how through the palace wide 
 Some spirits howi'd, some bark'd, some hiss'd, some 
 
 A shadow blacker than the mirkest night 
 Environ'd all the place with darkness sad, 
 
 Wherein a firebrand gave a dreadful light, 
 Kindled in hell by Tisiphone the road. 
 
 Vanish'd the shade, the sun appeared in sight, 
 Pale were his beams, the air was nothing glad, 
 
 And all the palace vanished was and gone, 
 
 Nor of so great a work was left one stone. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 As oft the clouds frame shapes of castles great 
 
 Amid the air, that little time do last, 
 But are dissolv'd by wind or Titan's heat, 
 
 Or like vain dreams soon made and sooner pass'd ; 
 The palace vanished so, nor in his seat 
 
 Left aught but rocks and crags by kind there plac'd : 
 She in her coach, which two old serpents drew, 
 Sat down, and as she us'd away she flew : 
 
 LXX. 
 
 She broke the clouds and cleft the yielding sky, 
 And 'bout her gather' d tempest, storm, and wind; 
 
 The lauds that view the south pole flew she by, 
 And left those unknown countries far behind ; 
 
 The straits of Hercules she pass'd, which lie 
 'Twixt Spain and Afric ; nor her flight inclin'd 
 
 To north or south, but still did forward ride, 
 
 O'er seas and streams, till Syria's coasts she spy'd : 
 
BOOK XVI. OP JERUSALEM. 147 
 
 Nor went she forward to Damascus fair, 
 But of her country dear she fled the sight, 
 
 And guided to Asp ha lie's lake her chair, 
 
 Where stood her castle, there she ends her flight ; 
 
 And from her damsels fair she made repair 
 To a deep vault, far from resort and light, 
 
 Where in sad thoughts a thousand doubts she cast, 
 
 Till grief and shame to wrath gave place at last :- 
 LXXII. 
 
 I will not hence (quoth she) till Egypt's Lord 
 In aid of Sion's King his host shall move,) 
 
 Then will I use all helps that charms afford, 
 And change my shape or sex if so behove; 
 
 Well can I handle bow, or lance, or sword, 
 The worthies all will aid me for my love : 
 
 I seek revenge, and to obtain the same, 
 
 Farewell regard of honour, farewell shame : 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Nor let mine uncle and protector me 
 
 Reprove for this, he most deserves the blame ; 
 
 My heart and sex (that weak and tender be) 
 He bent to deeds that maidens ill became; 
 
 His niece a wand'ring damsel first made he, 
 He spurr'd my youth, and I cast off my shame; 
 
 His be the fault, if aught 'gainst mine estate 
 
 I did for love, or shall commit for hate. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 This said, her knights, her ladies, pages, squires, 
 She ail assemhleth, and for journey fit, 
 
 In such fair arms and vestures them attires, 
 As shew'd her wealth and well declar'd her wit; 
 
 And forward marched full of strange desires; 
 Nor rested she by day or night one whit, 
 
 Till she came there where all the eastern bands, 
 
 Their kings and princes, lay on Gaza's sands* 
 
148 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 BOOK XVII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Egypt's great host, in battaile ray forth brought, 
 The Caliph sends with Godfrey's pow'r to fight. 9 
 
 Armida, who Rinaldo's ruin sought, 
 
 To them adjoins herself and Syria's might ; 43 
 
 Ta satisfy her cruel will and thought, 
 She gives herself to him that kills her knight. 46 
 
 He takes his fatal arms, and in his shield 57 
 
 His ancestors and their great deeds beheld. 64 
 
 GAZA (the city) on the frontier stands 
 Of Judah's realm, as men to Egypt ride, 
 
 Built near the sea ; beside it of dry sands 
 Huge wildernesses lie and deserts wide, 
 
 Which the strong winds lift from the parched lands. 
 And toss like roaring waves in roughest tide, 
 
 That from those storms poor passengers almost 
 
 No refuge find, but there are drown'd and lost. 
 
 n. 
 
 Within this town, won from the Turks of yore, 
 Strong garrison the King of Egypt plac'd ; 
 
 And, for it nearer was and fitted more 
 
 That high ernprize to which his thoughts he cast, 
 
 He left great Memphis, and to Gaza bore 
 
 His regal throne; and there, from countries vast 
 
 Of his huge empire, all the puissant host 
 
 Assembled he, and muster'd on the coast. 
 
BOOK XV11. OF JERUSALEM. 149 
 
 Come say, ray Muse ! what manner times these were, 
 And in those times how stood the state of things; 
 
 What pow'r this monarch had what arms they bear, 
 What nations subject, and what friends he brings ; 
 
 For from all lands the southern ocean near 
 
 Or morning star, came princes, dukes, and kings; 
 
 And only thon, of half the world well-nigh, 
 
 The armies, lords, and captains canst descry. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When Egypt from the Greekish emperor 
 Rebelled first and Christ's true faith deny'd, 
 
 Of Mahomet's descent a warrior 
 
 There set his throne and rul'd that kingdom wide ; 
 
 Caliph he hight, and Caliphs since that hour 
 Are his successors named all beside : 
 
 So Nilus old his kings long time had seen, 
 
 That Ptolemies and Pharaohs cali'd had been. 
 
 Establish'd was that kingdom in short while, 
 And grew so great, that over Asia's lands 
 
 And Lybia's realms it stretched many a mile, 
 From Syria's coasts as far as Gyrene stands ; 
 
 And southward passed 'gainst the course of Nile, 
 Through the hot clime where burnt Syene sands; 
 
 Hence bounded in with sandy deserts waste, 
 
 And thence with Euphrates' rich flood embrac'd * 
 
 VI. 
 
 Maremma, myrrh and spices that doth bring. 
 And all the rich Red Sea it comprehends; 
 
 And to those lands toward the morning spring, 
 That lie beyond that gulph, it far extends. 
 
 Great is that empire, greater by the king 
 
 That rules it now, whose worth the land amends 
 
 And makes more famous ; lord thereof by blood, 
 
 By wisdom, valour, and all virtues good. 
 
150 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 VII. 
 With Turks and Persians war he oft did wage, 
 
 And oft he won, and sometime lost the field; 
 Nor could his adverse fortune aught assuage 
 
 His valour's heat, or make his proud heart yield ; 
 But when he grew unfit for war through age, 
 
 He sheath'd his sword, and laid aside his shield ; 
 But yet his warlike mind he laid not down, 
 Nor his great thirst of rule, praise, and renown, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But by his knights still cruel wars maintained: 
 So wise his words, so quick his wit appears, 
 
 That of the kingdom large o'er which he reign'd 
 The charge seem'd not too weighty for his years: 
 
 His greatness Africk's lesser kings constraint 
 To tremble at his name; all Inde him fears; 
 
 And other realms that would his friendship hold, 
 
 Some armed soldiers sent, some gifts, some gold. 
 
 IX. 
 
 This mighty prince assembled had the flow'r 
 Of all his realms against the Frenchmen stout, 
 
 To break their rising empire and their pow'r, 
 Nor of sure conquest had he fear or doubt. 
 
 To him Armida came, ev'n at the hour 
 
 When in the plains (old Gaza's walls without) 
 
 The lords and leaders all their armies bring, 
 
 In battaile 'ray, rauster'd before their king. 
 x. 
 
 He on his throne was set, to which on bight 
 Who climb an hundred ivory stairs first told, 
 
 Under a pentise wrought of silver bright, 
 And trod on carpets made of silk nnd gold ; 
 
 His robes were such as best beseemen might 
 A king so great, so grave, so rich, so old ; 
 
 And twin'd of sixty ells of lawn and more, 
 
 A turban strange adorn'd his tresses hoar : 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 151 
 
 XI. 
 
 His right hand did his precious sceptre wield, 
 His beard was grey, his looks severe and grave; 
 
 And from bis eyes (not yet made dim with eild) 
 Sparkled his former worth and vigour brave; 
 
 His gestures all the majesty upheild 
 
 And state as his old age and empire crave. 
 
 So Phidias carv'd, Apelles so, pardie, 
 
 Erst painted Jove, Jove thundering down from sky, 
 
 XII. 
 
 On either side him stood a noble lord, 
 Whereof the first held in his upright hand 
 
 Of severe justice the impartial sword; 
 
 The other bore the scale and causes scann'd, 
 
 Keeping his folk in peace and good accord, 
 Arid termed was Lord Chancellor of the land : 
 
 But Marshal was the first, and us'd to lead 
 
 His armies forth to war oft with good speed. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Of bold Circassians with their halberds long 
 About his throne his guard stood in a ring, 
 
 All richly arm'd in golden corslets strong, 
 
 And by their sides their crooked swords down hing. 
 
 Thus set, thus seated, his grave lords among, 
 His hosts and armies great beheld the king ; 
 
 And every band, as by his throne it went, 
 
 Their ensigns low inclined and arms down bent. 
 
 Their squadrons first the men of Egypt show 
 In four troops, and each his several guide; 
 
 Of the high country two, two of the low. 
 Which Nile had won out of the salt sea side ; 
 
 His fertile slime first stopped the water's flow, 
 Then hardened to firm land the plough to bide ; 
 
 So Egypt still increas'd, within far plac'd 
 
 That part is now where ships erst anchor cast. 
 
152 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 The foremost band the people were that dwell'd 
 
 In Alexandria's rich and fertile plain, 
 Along the western shore, whence Nile expell'd 
 
 The greedy billows of the swelling main ; 
 Araspes was their guide, who more excell'd 
 
 In wit and craft than strength or warlike pain; 
 To place an ambush close, or to devise 
 A treason false, was none so sly, so wise. 
 
 xvi. 
 The people next that 'gainst the morning rays 
 
 Along the coast of Asia have their seat ; 
 Arontes led them, whom no warlike praise 
 
 Ennobled, but high birth and titles great ; 
 His helm ne'er made him sweat in toilsome frays, 
 
 Nor was his sleep e'er broke with trumpet's threat ; 
 But from soft ease to try the toil of fight, 
 His fond ambition brought this carpet knight* 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The third seem'd not a troop or squadron small, 
 But an huge host, nor seem'd it so much grain 
 
 In Egypt grew as to sustain them all ; 
 
 Yet from one town thereof came all that train, 
 
 A town in people to huge shires equal, 
 
 That did a thousand streets and more contain ; 
 
 Great Cair it hight, whose commons from each side 
 
 Came swarming out to war, Campson their guide. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Next under Gazel marched they that plough 
 The fertile lands above that town which lie, 
 
 Up to the place where Nilus tumbling low, 
 Falls from his second cataract on high. 
 
 Th' Egyptians weapon'd were with sword and bow, 
 No weight of helm or hawberk list they try; 
 
 And richly arm'd, in their strong foes no dread 
 
 Of death, but great desire of spoil, they bred. 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 153 
 
 The naked folk of Barca these succeed, 
 Unarmed half; Alarcon led thai baud, 
 
 That long in deserts liv'd in extreme need, 
 
 On spoils and preys purchas'd by strength of hand. 
 
 To battle strong unfit, their king did lead 
 His army next brought from Zumara land. 
 
 Then he of Tripoli, for sudden fight 
 
 And skirmish short, both ready, bold, and light. 
 
 e XX. 
 
 Two captains next brought forth their bands to show, 
 Whom Stony sent and Happy Arabic, 
 
 Which never felt the cold of frost and snow, 
 Or force of burning heat, unless fame lie; 
 
 Where incense pure and all sweet odours grow. 
 Where the sole Phrenix doth revive, not die; 
 
 And 'midst the perfumes rich and flow'rets brave, 
 
 Both birth and burial, cradle hath and grave ; 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Their clothes not rich, their garments were not gay, 
 But weapons like th' Egyptian troops they had. 
 
 TIT Arabians next that have no certain stay, 
 No house, no home, no mansion good or bad, 
 
 But ever (as the Scythian Hordes stray) 
 
 From place to place their wand'ring cities gad : 
 
 These have both voice and stature feminine, 
 
 Hair long and black, black face, and fiery eine. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Long Indian canes, with iron arm'd, they bear, 
 And as upon their nimble steeds they ride, 
 
 Like a swift storm their speedy troops appear, 
 If winds so fast bring storms from heavens wide. 
 
 By Syphax led the first Arabians were; 
 Aldine the second squadron had to guide; 
 
 And Abiazer proud brought to the fight 
 
 The third, a thief, a murd'rer, not a knight 
 
154 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The Islanders came then their Prince before, 
 Whose land* Arabia's gulph incios'd about, 
 
 Wherein they fish and gather oysters store, 
 
 Whose shells great pearlesrich and round pour out: 
 
 Th Red Sea sent with them from his left shore, 
 Of Negroes grirn a black and ugly rout : 
 
 These Agricalt, and those Osmida brought, 
 
 A man that set law, faith, and truth at nought. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Ethiops next which Meroe doth breed, 
 
 (That sweet and gentle isle of Meroe,) 
 'Twixt Nile and Astrabore thnt far doth spread, 
 
 Where two religions are, and kingdoms three : 
 These Assam iro and Canario lead, 
 
 Both kings, both Pagans, and both subject be 
 To the great Caliph ; but the third king kept 
 Christ's sacred faith, nor to these wars out-stepp'd. 
 xxv. 
 
 After two kings (both subject also) ride, 
 
 And of two bands of archers had the charge: 
 
 The first Soldan of Onus, plac'd in the wide 
 
 Huge Persian bay, a town rich, fair, and large : 
 
 The last of Bocca, which at every tide 
 
 The sea cuts off from Persia's southern marge, 
 
 And makes an isle ; but when it ebbs again, 
 
 The passage there is sandy, dry, and plaiu. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Nor thee, great Altimore ! in her chaste bed 
 Thy loving queen kept with her dear embrace ; 
 
 She tore her locks, she smote her breast, and shed 
 Salt tears to make thee stay in that sweet place s 
 
 Seem the rough seas more calm, cruel! she said, 
 Than the mild looks of thy kind spouse's face ? 
 
 Or is thy shield, with blood and dust defil'd, 
 
 A dearer armful than thy tender child I 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 156 
 
 This was the mighty king of Sarraacband, 
 A captain wise, well skill'd in feats of war ; 
 
 In courage fierce, matchless for strength of hand, 
 Great was his praise, his force WHS noised far; 
 
 His worth right-well the Frenchmen understand, 
 By whom his virtues fear'd and loved are : 
 
 His men were arm'd with helms and hawberks strong, 
 
 And by their sides broad swords and masses hong. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Then from the mansions bright of fresh Aurore 
 Adrastus came, the glorious king of Inde, 
 
 A snake's green skin spotted with black he wore, 
 That was made rich by art and hard by kind ; 
 
 An elephant this furious giant bore, 
 
 He fierce as fire, his mounture swift as wiud; 
 
 Much people brought he from his kingdoms wide, 
 
 'Twixt Indus, Gauges, and the salt sea side. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The King's own troops came next, a chosen crew, 
 Of all the camp the strength, the crown, the flow'i. 
 
 Wherein each soldier had with honours due 
 Rewarded been for service ere that hour ; 
 
 Their arms were strong for need and fair for shew; 
 Upon fierce steeds well mounted rode this pow'r, 
 
 And heav'n itself with the clear splendour shone 
 
 Of their bright armour, purple, gold, and stone. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 'Mongst these Alarco fierce, and Odemare 
 The muster-master was, and Hidraort, 
 
 And Rimedon, whose rashness took no care 
 To shun death's bitter stroke in field or fort: 
 
 Tigranes, Rapold stern, the men that fare 
 By sea, that robbed in each creek and port: 
 
 Ormond, and Marlabust th' Arabian nam'd, 
 
 Because that laud rebellious he reclaimed. 
 
156 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 1 
 
 There Pirga, Arimon, Orindo are, 
 
 Brimarte the sealer, and with him Swifant 
 
 The breaker of wild horses brought from far: 
 Then the great wrestler, strong Aridamante; 
 
 And Tisipherne, the thunderbolt of war, [vaunt 
 
 Whom none surpass'd, whom none to match durst 
 
 At tilt, at tournay, or in combat brave, 
 
 With spear or lance, with sword, with mace, or glave. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 A false Armenian did this squadron guide, 
 
 That in his youth from Christ's true faith and light 
 
 To the blind lore of Paganism did slide, 
 That Clement late, now Emireno night ; 
 
 Yet to his king he faithful was and try'd, 
 True in all causes, his in wrong and right ; 
 
 A cunning leader and a soldier bold. 
 
 For strength and courage young, for wisdom old. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 When all these regiments were pass'd and gone, 
 Appear'd Armide, and came her troop to show ; 
 
 Set in a chariot bright with precious stone, 
 Her gown tuck'd up, and in her hand a bow : 
 
 In her sweet face her new displeasures shone 
 
 Mix'd with the native beauties there which grow, 
 
 And quicken'd so her looks, that in sharp-wise 
 
 It seems she threats, and yet her threats entice: 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Her chariot, like Aurora's glorious wain, 
 
 With carbuncles and hyacinths glister'd round $ 
 
 Her coachman guided with the golden rein 
 Four unicorns, by couples yok'd and bound : 
 
 Of squires and lovely ladies hundreds twain 
 (Whose rattling quivers at their backs resound) 
 
 On milk white steeds wait on the chariot bright, 
 
 Their steeds to manage ready, swift to flight: 
 
BOOK XV1J. OF JERUSALEM. '157 
 
 xxxv. 
 
 Follow'd her troop, led forth by Aradin, 
 Which Hidraortfrom Syria's kingdom sent. 
 
 As when the new-born Phoenix doth begin 
 To fly to Ethiop-ward at the fair bent 
 
 Of her rich wings, strange plumes, and feathers thin, 
 Her crowns and chains with native gold besprent ; 
 
 The world amazed stands, and with her fly 
 
 An host of wond'ring birds, that sing and cry : 
 
 ' xxxvi. 
 
 So pass'd Armida, look'd on, gaz'd on so, 
 A wond'rous dame in habit, gesture, face; 
 
 There liv'd no wight to love so great a foe, 
 
 But wish'd and long'd those beauties to embrace; 
 
 Scant seen, with anger sullen, sad for woe, 
 
 She conquer' d all the lords and knights in place: 
 
 What would she do (her sorrows past) think you, 
 
 When her fair eyes, her looks, and smiles shall woo ? 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 She past, the King commanded Emiren 
 
 Of his rich throne to mount the lofty stage, 
 
 To whom his host, his army, and his men, 
 He would commit, now in his graver age. 
 
 With stately grace the man approached then, 
 His looks his coming honour did presage: 
 
 The guard asunder cleft and passage made ; 
 
 He to the throne up went, and there he stay'd ; 
 
 xxxvin. 
 
 To earth he cast his eyes, and bent his knee. 
 
 To whom the king thus 'gan his will explain : 
 To thee this sceptre, Emiren ! to thee 
 
 These armies I commit; my place sustain 
 'Mongst them ; go set the King of Judah free, 
 
 And let the Frenchmen feel my just disdain ; 
 Go, meet them, conquer them, leave none alive, 
 Or those that 'scape from battle bring captive. 
 
158 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Thus spake the tyrant, and the sceptre laid 
 
 With all his sovereign power upon the knight. 
 
 I take this sceptre at jour hand, (he said,) 
 And with your happy fortune go to fight; 
 
 And trust, my lord, in your great virtue's aid, 
 To 'venge all Asia's harms, her wrongs to right; 
 
 Nor e'er hut victor will I see your face. 
 
 Our overthrow shall bring death, not disgrace : 
 
 XL. 
 
 Heav'ns grant, if ill (yet no mishap I dread) 
 
 Or harm they threaten 'gainst this camp of thine, 
 
 That all that mischief fall upon my head, 
 Theirs be the conquest and the danger mine; 
 
 And let them safe bring home their captain dead, 
 Buried in pomp of triumph's glorious shrine. 
 
 He ceas'd, and then a murmur loud up went, 
 
 With noise of joy and sound of instrument: 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Amid the noise and shout up rose the King, 
 
 Environed with many a noble peer, 
 That to his royal tent the monarch bring, 
 
 And there he feasted them and made them cheer $ 
 To him arid him he taik'd, and carv'd each thing, 
 
 The greatest honour'd, meanest graced were ; 
 And while this mirth, this joy, and feast doth last, 
 Armida found fit time her nets to cast. 
 
 XL 1 1. 
 
 But when the feast was done, she (that espy'd 
 All ejes on her fair visage fix'd and bent, 
 
 And by true notes and certain signs descry'd, 
 How love's imprison'd fire their entrails brent) 
 
 Arose ; and where the King sat in his pride, 
 With stately pace and humble gestures went; 
 
 And, as she could, in looks, in voice she strove 
 
 Fierce, stern, bold, angry, and severe to prove. 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 159 
 
 XLiil. 
 
 Great Emperor, behold me here, (she said,) 
 For thee, my country, and my faith to fight; 
 
 A dame, a virgin, but a royal maid, 
 
 And worthy seems this war a princess' height; 
 
 For by the sword the sceptre is upstay'd. 
 
 This hand can use them both with skill and might; 
 
 This hand of mine can strike, and at each blow 
 
 Thy foes and ours kill, wound, and overthrow: 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Nor yet suppose this is the foremost day 
 Wherein to war I bent my noble thought, 
 
 But for the surety of thy realms, and stay 
 Of our religion true, ere this I wrought. 
 
 Yourself best know if this be true I say, 
 Or if my former deeds rejoicd you aught, 
 
 When Godfrey's hardy knights and princes strong 
 
 I captive took, and held in bondage long : 
 
 XLV. 
 
 I took them, bound them, and so sent them bound 
 To thee, a noble gift, with whom they had 
 
 Condemned low in dungeon under ground 
 For ever dwelt, in woe and torment sad ; 
 
 So might thine host an easy way have found 
 To end this doubtful war with conquest glad, 
 
 Had not Rinaldo fierce my knights all slain, 
 
 And set those lords (his friends) at large again : 
 
 XLVI. 
 Rinaldo is well known ; (and there a long 
 
 And true rehearsal made she of his deeds;) 
 This is the knight that since hath done me wrong, 
 
 Wrong yet untold, that sharp revengement needs: 
 Displeasure, therefore, mix'd with reason strong. 
 
 This thirst of war in me, this courage breeds ; 
 Nor how he injur'd me time serves to, tell, 
 Let this suffice, I seek revengement fell ; 
 
160 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 And will procure it, for all shafts that fly 
 
 Light not in vain, some work the shooter's will ; 
 
 And Jove's right hand, with thunders cast from sky, 
 Takes open vengeance oft for secret ill : 
 
 But if some champion dare this knight defy 
 To mortal battle, and by fight him kill, 
 
 And with his hateful head will me present, 
 
 That gift my soul shall please, my heart content: 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 So please, that for reward enjoy he shall 
 (The greatest gift I can or may afford) 
 
 Myself, my beauty, wealth, and kingdoms all, 
 To marry him and take him for my lord. 
 
 This promise will 1 keep what e'er befall, 
 And thereto bind myself by oath and word : 
 
 Now he that deems this purchase worth his pain, 
 
 Let him step forth and speak, I none disdain. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 While thus the princess said, his hungry eyne 
 Adrastus fed on her sweet beauty's light: 
 
 The gods forbid (quoth hs) one shaft of thine 
 Should bedischarg'd 'gainst thatdiscourteousknight; 
 
 His heart unworthy is, shootress divine ! 
 Of thine artillery to feel the might ; 
 
 To wreak thine ire behold mepress'd and fit, 
 
 I will his head cut off, and bring thee it; 
 
 L* 
 
 I will his heart with this sharp sword divide, 
 And to the vultures cast his carcase out. 
 
 Thus threaten'd he, but Tisipherne envy'd 
 To hear his glorious vaunt and boasting stout, 
 
 And saidBut who art thou, that so great pride 
 Thou shew'st before the king, me, and this rout? 
 
 Pardie here are some such whose worth exceeds 
 
 Thy vaunting much, yet boast not of their deeds. 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 161 
 
 Li. 
 The Indian fierce reply'd I am the man 
 
 Whose acts his words and boasts have aye surpassed ; 
 But if elsewhere the words thou now began 
 
 Had utter'd been, that speech had been thy last 
 
 Thus quarrell'd they ; the monarch stay'd them then, 
 
 And 'twixt the angry knights his sceptre cast: 
 Then to Armida said Fair Queen, I see 
 Thy heart is stout, thy thoughts courageous be; 
 
 LII. 
 Thou worthy art that their disdain and ire 
 
 At thy commands these knights should both appease, 
 That 'gainst thy foe their courage hot as fire [please; 
 
 Thou rnay'st employ, both when and where thou 
 There all their pow'r and force, and what desire 
 
 They have to serve thee, may they shew at ease. 
 The monarch held his peace when this was said, 
 And they new proffer of their service made : 
 
 tin. 
 
 Nor they alone, but all that famous were 
 In feats of arms, boast that he shall be dead ; 
 
 All offer her their aid, all say and swear 
 To take revenge on his condemned head. 
 
 So many arms mov'd she against her dear, 
 And swore her darling under foot to tread. 
 
 But he, since first th' inchanted isle he left, 
 
 Safe in his barge the roaring waves still cleft. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 By the same way return'd the well taught boat 
 By which it came, and made like haste, like speed : 
 
 The friendly wind, upon her sail that smote, 
 So turn'd as to return her ship had need. 
 
 The youth sometime the pole or bear did note, 
 Or wand'ringstars which clearest nights forth spread; 
 
 Sometimes the floods, the hills, or mountains steep, 
 
 Whose woody fronts o'ershade the silent deep. 
 
162 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 IT. 
 
 Now of the camp the man the state inquires, 
 Now asks the customs strange of sundry lands ; 
 
 And sail'd till clad in beams and bright attires 
 
 The fourth day's sun on th' eastern threshold stands ; 
 
 But when the western seas had quench' d those fires, 
 Their frigate struck against the shore and sands. 
 
 Then spoke their guide The land of Palestine 
 
 This is; here must your journey end and mine* 
 LVI. 
 
 The knights she set upon the shore all three, 
 And vanish'd thence in twinkling of an eye. 
 
 Up rose the night, in whose deep blackness be 
 All colours hid of things in earth or sky ; 
 
 Nor could they house, or hold, or harbour see, 
 Or in that desert sign of dwelling spy ; 
 
 Nor track of man or horse, or aught that might 
 
 Inform them of some path or passage right. 
 
 M0 
 
 When they had mus'd what way they travel should, 
 From the waste shore their steps at last they twin'd ; 
 
 And, lo ! far off at last their eyes behold 
 
 Something, they wist not what, that clearly shin'd, 
 
 With rays of silver and with beams of gold, 
 
 Which the dark folds of night's black mantle lin'd j 
 
 Forward they went and marched 'gainst the light, 
 
 To see and find the thing that shone so bright. 
 
 LVIII. 
 High on a tree they saw an armour new, 
 
 That glisterd bright 'gainst Cynthia's silver ray; 
 Therein, like stars in skies, the diamonds shew 
 
 Fret in the gilden helm and hawberk gay ; 
 The mighty shield all scored full they view 
 
 Of pictures fair, ranged in meet array ; 
 To keep them sat an aged man beside, 
 Who to salute them rose when them he spy'd. 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 163 
 
 LIX. 
 
 The twain who first were sent in this pursuit, 
 Of their wise friend well new the aged face ; 
 
 But when the wizard sage their first salute 
 Receiv'd, and quited had with kind embrace, 
 
 To the young Prince, that silent stood and mute, 
 He turn'd his speech : In this unused place 
 
 For you alone I wait, my lord, (quoth he,) 
 
 My chiefest care your state and welfare be 5 
 1.1. 
 
 For, though you wot it not, I am your friend, 
 And for your profit work, as these can tell ; 
 
 I taught them how Armida's charms to end, 
 And bring you hither from love's hateful cell: 
 
 Now to my words (though sharp perchance) attend) 
 Nor be aggriev'd although they seem too fell ; 
 
 But keep them well in mind, til! in the truth 
 
 A wise and holier man instruct thy youth. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Not underneath sweet shades and fountains shrill, 
 Among the nymphs, the fairies, leaves, and flow'rs 5 
 
 But on the steep, the rough, and craggy hill 
 Of virtue, stand this bliss, this good of ours; 
 
 By toil and travel, not by sitting still 
 
 In pleasure's lap, we come to honour's bow'rs : 
 
 Why will you thus in sloth's deep valley lie? 
 
 The royal eagles on high mountains fly : 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Nature lifts up thy forehead to the skies, 
 
 And fills ihy heart with high and noble thought, 
 
 That thou to heav'nward aye should'st lift thine eyes, 
 And purchase fame by deeds well done and wrought; 
 
 She gives thee ire, by which hot courage flies 
 
 To conquest; not through brawls and battles fought 
 
 For civil jars, nor that thereby you might 
 
 Your wicked malice wreak and cursed spite ; 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 But that your strength spurrd forth with noble wrath, 
 With greater fury might Christ's foes assault ; 
 
 And that you bridle should with lesser scath 
 Each secret vice, and kill each inward fault; 
 
 For so his Godly anger ruled hath 
 
 Each righteous man beneath heavVs starry vault; 
 
 And at his will makes it now hot, now cold, 
 
 Now lets it run, now doth it fetter'd hold. 
 LXIV. 
 
 Thus parled he. Rinaldo, hush'd and still, 
 
 Great wisdom heard in those few words compil'd ; 
 
 He mark'd his speech ; a purple blush did fill 
 
 His guilty cheeks; down went his eye-sight mild. 
 
 The hermit by his bashful looks his will 
 
 Well understood, and said : Look up, my child, 
 
 And painted in this precious shield behold 
 
 The glorious deeds of thy forefathers old ; 
 
 LXV- 
 
 Thine elders' glory herein see and know, 
 
 In virtue's path how they trod ail their days, 
 
 Whom tlum art far behind, a runner slow 
 
 In this true course of honour, fame, and praise. 
 
 Up ! up ! thyself incite by the fair show 
 
 Of knightly worth which this bright shield bewrays; 
 
 That be thy spur to praise. At last the knight 
 
 Look'd up, and on those portraits bent his sight. 
 
 LXVI. 
 The cunning workman had in little space 
 
 Infinite shapes of men there well express'd ; 
 For there described was the worthy race, 
 
 And pedigree of all the House of Este ; 
 Come from a Roman spring, o'er all the place 
 
 Flowed pure streams of crystal east and west; 
 With laurel crowned stood the Princes old, 
 Their wars the hermit and their battles told : 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 165 
 
 He shew'd him Caius first, when first in prey 
 To people strange the falling empire went, 
 
 First Prince of Este, that did the sceptre sway 
 O'er such as chose him lord by free consent; 
 
 His weaker neighbours to his rule obey, 
 Need made them stoop, constraintdothforce content. 
 
 After, when Lord Honorius call'd the train 
 
 Of savage Goths into his land again, 
 
 LXVIH. 
 
 And when all Italy did burn and flame 
 
 With bloody war, by this fierce people made, 
 
 When Rome a captive and a slave became, 
 And to be quite destroy'd was most afraid, 
 
 Aurelius, to his everlasting fame, 
 
 Preserved in peace the folk that him obeyed. 
 
 Next whom was Forrest, who the rage withstood 
 
 Of the bold Huns, and of their tyrant proud : 
 
 LXIX. 
 Known by his look was Attila the fell, 
 
 Whose dragon eyes shone bright with anger's spark; 
 Worse faced than a dog, who view'd him well 
 
 Suppos'd they saw him grin and heard him bark; 
 But when in single fight he lost the bell, [mark ; 
 
 How through his troops he fled there might you 
 And how Lord Forrest after fortified 
 Aquilia's town, and how for it he died ; 
 
 LXX. 
 
 For there was wrought the fatal end and fine 
 Both of himself and- of the town he kept: 
 
 But his great son, renowned Acarine, 
 
 Into his father's place and honours stepp'd. 
 
 To cruel fate, not to the Huns, Altine 
 
 Gave place ; and when time serv'd again forth leapt, 
 
 And in the vale of Po built for his seat, 
 
 Of many a village small, a city great : 
 
166 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII, 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Against the swelling flood he bank'd it strong ; 
 
 And thence up rose the fair and nohle town 
 Where they of Este should by succession long 
 
 Command, and rule in hliss and high renown. 
 'Gainst Odoacer then he fought ; but wrong 
 
 Oft spoileth right, fortune treads courage down, 
 For there he died for his dear country's sake, 
 And of his fathers' praise did so partake : 
 LXXII. 
 
 With him died Alphorisio : Azzo was 
 With his dear brother into exile sent : 
 
 But homewards they in arras again repass 
 
 (The Herule king oppressed) from banishment* 
 
 His front through pierced with a dart, (alas !) 
 Next them, of Este th' Epaminondas went, 
 
 That smiling seem'd to cruel death to yield, 
 
 When Totila was fled, and safe his shield $ 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Of Boniface I speak. Valerian, 
 
 His son, in praise and pow'r succeeded him, 
 Who durst sustain, in years though scant a man, 
 
 Of the proud Goths an hundred squadrons trim. 
 Then he that 'gainst the Sclaves much honour won, 
 
 Ernesto, threat'ning stood with visage grim ; 
 Before him Aldoard, the Lombard stout 
 Who from Monscelces boldly erst shut out. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 There Henry was, and Berengare the bold, 
 
 That serv'd Great Charles in his conquests high, 
 
 Who in each battle give the onset would, 
 A hardy soldier and a captain sly. 
 
 After, Prince Lewis did he well up-hold 
 Against his nephew, king of Italy ; 
 
 He won the field, and took that king alive. 
 
 Next him stood Otho with his children five. 
 
KOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 167 
 
 Of Almerike the image next they view, 
 
 Lord Marquis of Ferrara first create, 
 Founder of many churches, that upthrew 
 
 His eyes like one that used to contemplate. 
 'Gainst him the second Azzo stood in rew, 
 
 With Berengarius that did long debate, 
 Till after often change of fortune's stroke, 
 He won, and on all Italy laid the yoke. 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Albert, his son, the Germans warr'd among, 
 
 And there his praise and fame was spread so wide, 
 
 That having foil'd the Danes in battle strong, 
 His daughter young became great Otho's bride. 
 
 Behind him Hugo stood, with warfare long 
 That broke the horn of all the Romans' pride, 
 
 Who of all Italy the Marquis hight, 
 
 Atid Tuscane whole possessed as his right. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 After Tedaldo, puissant Boniface 
 
 And Beatrice his dear possess'd the stage; 
 
 Nor was there left heir male of that great race 
 T'enjoy the sceptre, state, and heritage ; 
 
 The Princess Maude alone supplied the place, 
 Supplied the want in number, sex, and age ; 
 
 For far above each sceptre, throne, and crown, 
 
 The noble Dame advanc'd her veil and gown ; 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 With manlike vigour shone her noble look, 
 
 And more than manlike wrath her face o'erspread, 
 
 There the fell Normans, Guichard there forsook 
 The field, till then who never fear'd nor fled ; 
 
 Henry the Fourth she beat, and from him took 
 His standard, and in church it offered ; 
 
 Which done, the Pope back to the Vatican 
 
 She brought, and plac'd in Peter's chair again. 
 
168 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 As he that honour'd her and held her dear, 
 Azzo the Fifth stood by her lovely side : 
 
 But the Fourth Azzo's offspring far 'and near 
 
 Spread forth, and through Gerniania fructify'd : 
 
 Sprung from that branch did Guclpho bold appear, 
 Guelpho his son by Cunigond his bride; 
 
 And in Bavaria's field transplanted new, 
 
 This Roman graft flourish'd, increased, and grew. 
 
 i.xxx. 
 
 A branch of Este there in the Guelfian tree 
 
 Ingrafted was, which of itself was old, 
 Whereon you might the Guelphos fairer see 
 
 Renew their sceptres and their crowns of gold ; 
 On which heav'n's good aspects so bended be, 
 
 That high and broad it spread and flourish'd bold, 
 Till underneath his glorious branches laid 
 Half Germany, and all under his shade: 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 This regal plant from his Italian root 
 
 Sprung up as high and blossom'd fair above. 
 
 Forenenst Lord Guelpho, Bertold issued out, 
 With the Sixth Azzo whom all virtues love. 
 
 This was the pedigree of worthies stout, 
 
 Who seem'd in that bright shield to live and move. 
 
 Rinaldo waked up and cheer'd his face, 
 
 To see these worthies of his house and race. 
 
 To do like acts his courage wish'd and sought, 
 And with that wish transported him so far, 
 
 That all those deeds which filled aye his thought, 
 (Towns won, forts taken, armies kilPd in war,) 
 
 As if they were things done indeed and wrought, 
 Before his eyes he thinks they present are ; 
 
 He hastly arms him, and with hope and haste 
 
 Sure conquest met, prevented, and embrac'd. 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 169 
 
 LXXX1II. 
 
 But Charles, who had told the death and fall 
 
 Of the young Prince of Danes, his late dear lord, 
 
 Gave him the fatal weapon, and withall [sword, 
 Young Knight, (quoth he,) take with good luck this 
 
 Your just, strong, valiant hand, in battaile shall 
 Employ it long, for Christ's true faith and word ; 
 
 And of its former lord revenge the wrongs, 
 
 Who lov'd you so, that deed to you belongs. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 He answered : God for his mercy sake 
 
 Grant that this hand which holds this weapon good, 
 For thy dear master may sharp vengeance take, 
 
 May cleave the Pagan's heart and shed his blood. 
 To this but short reply did Charles make', [stood ; 
 
 And thank'd him much, nor more on terms they 
 For, lo ! the wizard sage that was their guide, 
 On their dark journey hastes them forth to ride: 
 
 txxxv. 
 
 High time it is (quoth he) for you to wend 
 
 Where Godfrey you awaits and many a knight, 
 
 There may we well arrive ere night doth end, 
 
 And through this darkness can I guide you right. 
 
 This said, up to his coach they all ascend, 
 
 On its swift wheels forth roll'd the chariot light ; 
 
 He gave his coursers flit the rod and rein, 
 
 And gallopp'd forth and eastward drove amain. 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 While silent so through night's dark shade they fly, 
 The hermit thus bespake the young man stout: 
 
 Of thy great house, thy race, thine offspring high, 
 Here hast thou seen the branch, the bole, the root, 
 
 And as these worthies born to chivalry 
 
 And deeds of arms it hath tofore brought out ; 
 
 So is it, so it shall be fertile still, 
 
 Nor time shall end, uor age that seed shall kill. 
 
170 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 Would God, as drawn from the forgetful lap 
 Of antique time I have thine elders shown, 
 
 That so I could the catalogue unwrap 
 
 Of thy great nephews yet unborn, unknown; 
 
 That ere this light they view, their fate and hap 
 I might foretell, and how their chance is thrown ; 
 
 That like thine elders so thou might'st behold 
 
 Thy children many, famous, stout, and bold : 
 
 LXXXVIU. 
 
 But not by art or skill of things future 
 Can the plain truth revealed be and told, 
 
 Although some knowledge doubtful, dark, obscure* 
 We have of coming haps in clouds up-roH'd; 
 
 Nor all which in this cause I know for sure 
 Dare I foretell ; for of that father old, 
 
 The hermit Peter, learn'd I much, and he, 
 
 Withouten veil, heav'n's secrets great doth see : 
 
 LXXX1X. 
 
 But this (to him reveal'd by grace divine) 
 By him to me declar'd, to thee I say, 
 
 Was never race, Greek, Barb'rous, or Latine, 
 Great in times past, or famous at this day, 
 
 Richer in hardy knights than this of thine: 
 Such blessings heav'n shall on thy children lay, 
 
 That they in fame shall pass, in praise o'ercome 
 
 The worthies old of Sparta, Carthage, Rome : 
 
 xc. 
 
 But 'mongst the rest I choose Alphonsus bold, 
 In virtue tirst, second in place and name, 
 
 He shall be born when this frail world grows old, 
 Corrupted, poor, and bare of men of fame, 
 
 Better than he none shall, none can, or could 
 The sword or sceptre use, or guide the same. 
 
 To rule in peace, or to command in fight, 
 
 Thine offspring's glory and thy house's light : 
 
BOOK XVII. OF JERUSALEM. 171 
 
 His younger age foretokens true shall yield 
 Of future valour, puissance, force and might ; 
 
 From him no rock the savage heast shall shield; 
 At tilt or tournay match him shall no knight; 
 
 After he conquer shall in pitched field 
 
 Great armies, and win spoils in single fight ; 
 
 And on his locks (rewards for knightly praise) 
 
 Shall garlands wear of grass, of oak, of ba)s : 
 
 xcn. 
 
 His graver age, as well that eild it fits, 
 
 Shall happy peace preserve and quiet blest, 
 
 And from his neighbours strong 'mongst whom hesils, 
 Shall keep his cities safe in wealth and rest, 
 
 Shall nourish arts, and cherish pregnant wits, 
 
 Make triumphs great, and feast his subjects best ; 
 
 Reward the good, the ill with pains torment, 
 
 Shall dangers all foresee, and seen prevent: 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 But if it hap, against those wicked bands 
 
 That sea and earth infest with blood and war, 
 
 And in these wretched times to noble lands 
 Give laws of peace false and unjust that are, 
 
 That he be sent to drive their guilty hands 
 
 From Christ's pure altars and high temples far; 
 
 what revenge, what vengeance shall he bring 
 
 On that false sect and their accursed king ! 
 
 xciv. 
 
 Too late the Moors, too late the Turkish king, 
 
 'Gainst him should arm their troops and legions 
 
 For he beyond great Euphrates should bring, [bold ; 
 Beyond the frozen tops of Taurus cold, 
 
 Beyond the land where is perpetual spring, 
 The cross, the eagle white, the lily of gold, 
 
 And by baptising of the Ethiops brown, 
 
 Of aged Nile reveal the springs unknown. 
 
172 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVII. 
 
 Thus said the hermit, and his prophecy 
 
 The Prince accepted with content and pleasure. 
 
 The secret thought of his posterity, 
 
 Of his concealed joys heap'd up the measure. 
 
 Meanwhile the morning bright was mounted high, 
 And chang'dheav'n's silver wealth to golden treasure, 
 
 And high ahove the Christian tents they view, 
 
 How the broad ensigns trembled, wav'd, and blew ; 
 xcvi. 
 
 When thus again their leader sage begun : 
 
 See how bright Phoebus clears the darksome skies, 
 
 See how with gentle beams the friendly sun 
 The tents, the towns, the hills, and dales descries ; 
 
 Through my well guiding is your voyage done, 
 From danger safe in travel oft which lies ; 
 
 Hence, without tear of harm or doubt of foe, 
 
 March to the camp ; I may no nearer go. 
 
 xcvn. 
 Thus took he leave, and made a quick return ; 
 
 And forward went the champions three on foot, 
 And marching right against the rising morn, 
 
 A ready passage to the camp found out. 
 Meanwhile had speedy fame the tidings borne 
 
 That to the tents approach'd these barons stout, 
 And starting from his throne and kingly scat, 
 To entertain them rose Godfredo great. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 173 
 
 BOOK XVIII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The charms and spirits false therein which lie 
 
 Rinaldo chasethfrom the forest old. 18 
 
 The host of Egypt comes. Vafrine the spy 57 
 
 Ent'reth their camp, stout, crafty, wise, and bold. 
 
 Sharp is the fight about the bulwarks high 
 
 And ports of Zion, to assault the hold. 64 
 
 Godfrey hath aid from heatfn : by force the town 92 
 
 Is won, the Pagans slain, walls beaten down. 
 
 ARRIV'D where Godfrey to embrace him stood: 
 My sovereign lord, Rinaldo meekly said, 
 
 To 'venge my wrongs against Gernando proud, 
 My honour's care provok'd my wrath unstay'd: 
 
 But that I you displeas'd, my chieftain good, 
 
 My thoughts yet grieve, my heart is still dismay'd ; 
 
 And "here I come, prest all exploits to try, 
 
 To make me gracious in your gracious eye. 
 
 n. 
 
 To him that kneePd (folding his friendly arms 
 About his neck) the Duke this answer gave: 
 
 Let pass such speeches sad of passed harms, 
 Remembrance is the life of grief, his grave 
 
 Forgetfulness; and for amends, in arms 
 
 Your wonted valour use and courage brave; 
 
 For you alone to happy end must bring 
 
 The strong enchantments of the charmed spring. 
 
174 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 That aged wood whence heretofore we got 
 To build our scaling engines timber fit, 
 
 Is now the fearful seat, but how none wot, 
 Where ugly fiends and damned spirits sit: 
 
 To cut one twist thereof adventurelh not 
 The boldest knight we have: nor without it 
 
 This wall can batter'd be : where others doubt 
 
 There venture thou, and shew thy courage stout, 
 
 IV. 
 
 This said he ; and the knight in speeches few 
 Proffer' d his service to attempt the thing. 
 
 To hard assays his courage willing flew, 
 
 To him praise was no spur, words were no sting. 
 
 Of his dear friends then he embrac'd the crew 
 To welcome him which came ; for in a ring 
 
 About him Guelpho, Tancred, and the rest 
 
 Stood, of the camp the greatest, chief, and best. 
 v. 
 
 When with the Prince these lords had iterate 
 Their welcomes oft, and oft their dear embrace; 
 
 Towards the rest of lesser worth and state 
 
 He turn'd, and them receiv'd with gentle grace: 
 
 The merry soldiers 'bout him shout and prate, 
 With cries asjoyful and as cheerful face, 
 
 As if in triumph's chariot bright as sun 
 
 He had return'd, Afric or Asia won. 
 
 Thus marched to his tent the champion good, 
 And there sat down with all his friends around: 
 
 Now of the war he asks, now of the wood, 
 
 And answer'd each demand they list propound. 
 
 But when they left him to his ease, upstood 
 
 The hermit, and fit time to speak once found : 
 
 My lord, he said, your travels wond'rous are, 
 
 Far have you strayed, erred, wander'd far : 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 175 
 
 VII. 
 
 Much are you bound to God above, who brought 
 You safe from false Armida's charmed hold ; 
 
 And thee a straying sheep whom once he bought, 
 Hath now again reduced to his fold ; 
 
 And 'gainst his heathen foes, those men of nought, 
 Hath chosen thee in place next Godfrey bold : 
 
 Yet may'st thou not, polluted thus with sin, 
 
 In his high service war or fight begin : 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The world, the flesh, with their infections vile 
 Pollute thy thoughts impure, thy spirit stain ; 
 
 Not Po, not Ganges, not sev'n-mouthed Nile, 
 Not the wide seas can wash thee clean again ; 
 
 Only to purge all faults which thee defile 
 
 His blood hath power who for thy sins was slain: 
 
 His help therefore invoke, to him bewray 
 
 Thy secret faults, mourn, weep, complain and pray. 
 
 IX. 
 
 This said, the knight first with the witch unchaste 
 His idle loves and follies vain lamented ; 
 
 Then kneeling low, with heavy looks down cast, 
 His other sins confessed, and all repented, 
 
 And meekly pardon crav'd for first and last. 
 The hermit with his zeal was well contented, 
 
 And saidOn yonder hill next morn go pray, 
 
 That turns his forehead 'gainst the morning ray; 
 
 x. 
 
 That done, march to the wood, whence each one brings 
 Such news of furies, goblins, fiends, and sprites; 
 
 The giants, monsters, and al! dreadful things 
 
 Thou shall subdue, which that dark grove unites : 
 
 Let no strange voice that mourns or sweetly sings, 
 Nor beauty whose glad smile frail hearts delights, 
 
 Within thy breast make ruth or pity rise, 
 
 But their false looks and prayers false despise. 
 
176 THE RECOVERY BOOK XTIIL 
 
 Thus he advis'd him, and the hardy knight 
 Prepar'd him gladly to this enterprise ; 
 
 Thoughtful he past the day, and sad the night; 
 And t?ie the silver morn began to rise, 
 
 His arms he took, and in a coat him dight 
 Of colour strange, cut in the warlike guise; 
 
 And on his way, sole, silent, forth he went 
 
 Alone, and left his friends, and left his tent. 
 
 XII. 
 
 It was the time when 'gainst the breaking day 
 Rebellions night yet strove, and still repined ; 
 
 For in the East nppear'd the morning grey, 
 
 And yet some lamps in Jove's high palace shined; 
 
 "When to mount Olivet he took his way, 
 
 And saw (as round about his eyes he twined) [shine; 
 
 Night's shadows hence, from thence the morning's 
 
 This bright, that dark ; that earthly, this divine. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Thus to himself he thought: how many bright 
 And splendent lamps shine in hcavVs temple high ; 
 
 Day hath his golden sun, her moon the night, 
 Her fix'd and wand'ring stars the azure sky ; 
 
 So framed all by their Creator's might, 
 
 That still they live and shine, and ne'er shall die, 
 
 Till (in a moment) with the last day's brand 
 
 They burn, and with them burns sea, air, and land. 
 
 xiv. 
 
 Thus as he mused to the top he went, 
 
 And there kneePd down with reverence and fear, 
 
 His eyes upon heav'n's eastern face he bent, 
 
 His thoughts above all heav'ns uplifted were: 
 
 The sins and errors (which 1 now repent) 
 Of mine unbridled youth, O Father dear ! 
 
 Remember not, but let thy mercy fall, 
 
 And purge my faults, and mine offences all. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OP JERUSALEM. 177 
 
 Thus prayed he. With purple wings up flew, 
 In golden weed, the morning's lusty queen, 
 
 Begilding, with the radiant beams she threw, 
 His helm, his harness, and the mountain green: 
 
 Upon his breast and forehead gently blew 
 
 The air, that balm and nardus breath'd unseen ; 
 
 And o'er his head, let down from clearest skies, 
 
 A cloud of pure and precious dew there flies: 
 
 xvi. 
 The heav'nly dew was on his garments spread, 
 
 To which compared his clothes pale ashes seem, 
 And sprinkled so that all that paleness fled, 
 
 And thence of purest while bright rays out stream. 
 So cheered are the flow'rs, late withered, 
 
 With the sweet comfort of the morning beam ; 
 And so, returned to youth, a serpent old 
 Adorns herself in new and native gold. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The lovely whiteness of his changed weed 
 The Prince perceived well and long admir'd : 
 
 Toward the forest march'd he on with speed, 
 Resolv'd as such adventures great requir'd : 
 
 Thither he came whence shrinking back for dread 
 Of that strange desert's sight the first retir'd ; 
 
 But not to him fearful or loathsome made 
 
 That forest was, but sweet with pleasant shade. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Forward he pass'd, and in the grove before 
 
 He heard a sound that strange, sweet, pleasing was; 
 
 There roll'd a crystal brook with gentle roar, [pass, 
 There sigh'd the winds as through the leaves they 
 
 There did the nightingale her wrongs deplore, 
 There sung the swan, and singing died, alas ! 
 
 There lute, harp, cittern, human voice he heard, 
 
 And all these sounds one sound right well declar'd. 
 
 VOL. II. M 
 
178 THE RECOVERY BOOK XYI1I. 
 
 A dreadful thunderclap at last he heard, 
 
 The aged trees and plants well-nigh that rent; 
 
 Yet heard he nymphs and syrens afterward, 
 
 Birds, winds, and waters, sing with sweet consent: 
 
 Whereat amaz'd hestay'd, and well prepared 
 For his defence, heedful and slow forth went ; 
 
 "Nor in his way his passage aught withstood, 
 
 Except a quiet, still, transparent flood : 
 
 xx. 
 
 On the green hanks which that fair stream in-bound. 
 Flowers and odours sweetly srail'd and smell'd, 
 
 Which reaching out its stretched arms around, 
 All the large desert in its bosom held ; 
 
 And through the grove one channel passage found, 
 That in the wood, in that the forest dwell'd; [made, 
 
 Trees clad the streams, streams green those trees aye 
 
 And so exchanged their moisture and their shade. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The knight some way sought out the flood to pass, 
 And, as he sought, a wond'rous bridge appear'd, 
 
 A bridge of gold, a huge and weighty mass, 
 On arches great of I hat rich metal rear'd : 
 
 When through that golden way he enter'd was, 
 
 Down fell the bridge, swelled the stream, and wear'd 
 
 The work away, nor sign left where it stood, 
 
 And of a river calm became a flood. 
 
 He turn'd, amaz'd to see it troubled so, 
 
 Like sudden brooks increased with molten snow; 
 
 The billows fierce that tossed to and fro, 
 
 The whirlpools suck'd down to their bosoms low : 
 
 But on he went to search for wonders mo, [grow ; 
 Through the thick trees, there high and broad which 
 
 And in that forest huge and desert wide 
 
 The more he sought, more wonders still he spy'd : 
 
fiOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 179 
 
 Whereso he stepped, it seera'd the joyful ground 
 Renew'd the verdure of her flowery weed ; 
 
 A fountain here, a well-spring there he found; 
 Here bud the roses, there the lilies spreed ; 
 
 The aged wood o'er and about him round 
 
 Flourish'd with blossoms new, new leaves, new seed ; 
 
 And on the boughs and branches of those treen 
 
 The bark was soften'd, and rensw'd the green : 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The manna OH each leaf did pearled lie, 
 The honey stilled from the tender rind. 
 
 Again he heard that wond'rous harmony, 
 
 Of songs and sweet complaints of lovers kind ; 
 
 The human voices sung a treble high, 
 
 To which respond the birds, the streams, the wind; 
 
 But yet unseen those nymphs, those singers were, 
 
 Unseen the lutes, harps, viols, which they bear. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He look'd, he listen'd, yet his thoughts denyM 
 To think that true which he both heard and see : 
 
 A myrtle in an ample plain he spy'd, 
 And thither by a beaten path went he : 
 
 The myrtle spread her mighty branches wide, 
 Higher than pine, or palm, or cypress tree; 
 
 And far above all other plants was seen, 
 
 That forest's lady, and that desert's queen. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Upon the tree his eyes Rinaldo bent, 
 
 And there a marvel great and strange began; 
 
 An aged oak beside him cleft and rent, 
 
 And from his fertile hollow womb forth ran 
 
 (Clad in rare weeds and strange habiliment) 
 A nymph for age able to go to man ; 
 
 An hundred plants beside, even in his sight, 
 
 Chtided an hundred nymphs, so great, so dight ; 
 v 2 
 
180 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Such as on stages play, such as we see 
 
 The Dryads painted, whom wild Satyrs love; 
 
 Whose arms half naked, locks untrussed be, 
 With buskins laced on their legs above, 
 
 And silken robes tuck'd short above their knee; . 
 Such seem'd the Sylvan daughters of this grove, 
 
 Save that, instead of shafts and boughs of tree, 
 
 She bore a lute, a harp or cittern she ; 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 And wantonly they cast them in a ring, 
 
 And sung and danc'd to move his weaker sense j 
 
 Rinaldo round about environing, 
 
 As centres are with their circumference : 
 
 The tree they compass'd eke, and 'gan to sing, 
 
 That woods and streams admir'd their excellence : 
 
 Welcome, dear lord ! welcome to this sweet grove > 
 
 Welcome, our lady's hope! welcome, her love ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Thou com'st to cure our princess, faint and sick 
 For love ; for love of thee, faint, sick, distressed ; 
 
 Late black, late dreadful, was this forest thick, 
 Fit dwelling for sad folk with grief oppressed ; 
 
 See, with thy coming how the branches quick 
 
 Kevived are, and in new blossoms dressed. 
 ' This was their song ; and after from it went 
 
 First a sweet sound, and then the myrtle rent. 
 
 xxx. 
 
 If antique times admir'd Silenus old, 
 
 That oft appear' d set on his lazy ass, 
 How would they wonder if they did behold 
 
 Such sights as from the myrtle high did pass! 
 Thence came a lady fair, with locks of gold, 
 
 That like in shape, in face, and beauty was 
 To sweet Armida : Rinald thinks he spies 
 Her gestures, smiles, and glances of her eyes. 
 
 & 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 181 
 
 On him a sad and smiling look she cast, 
 
 Which twenty passions strange at once bewrays : 
 And art thou come, (quoth she,) returned at last 
 
 To her from whom but late thou ran'st thy ways? 
 Com'st thou to comfort me for sorrows past, 
 
 To ease my widow'd nights and careful days ? 
 Or comest thou to work me grief and harm ? 
 Why nilt thou speak ? why not thy face disarm ? 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Com'st thou a friend or foe ? I did not frame 
 That golden bridge to entertain my foe ; 
 
 Nor open'd flow'rs and fountains as you came, 
 To welcome him with joy that brings me woe. 
 
 Put off thy helm ; rejoice me with the flame 
 Of thy bright eyes, whence first my fires did grow; 
 
 Kiss me, embrace me, if you further venture, 
 
 Love keeps the gate, the fort is eath to enter. 
 
 XXXIII* 
 
 Thus as she woos, she rolls her rueful eyes 
 
 With piteous look, and changeth oft her cheeV; 
 
 An hundred sighs from her false heart up flies, 
 She sobs, she mourns, it is great ruth to hear ; 
 
 The hardest breast sweet pity mollifies, 
 What stony heart resists a woman's tear ? 
 
 But yet the knight, wise, wary, not unkind, 
 
 Drew forth his sword, and from her careless twin'd : 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 Towards the tree he march'd ; she thither start, 
 Before him stepp'd, embraced the plant, and cry'd 
 
 Ah ! never do me such a spiteful part, 
 
 To cut my tree, this forest's joy and pride; 
 
 Put up thy sword, else pierce therewith the heart 
 Of thy forsaken and despis'd Armide; [kind ! 
 
 For through this breast, and through this heart, un- 
 
 To this fair tree thy sword shall passage find. 
 
182 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 He lift his brand, nor car'd, though oft she pray'd; 
 
 And she her form to other shape did change; 
 Such monsters huge, when men in dreams are laid, 
 
 Oft in their idle fancies roam and range ; 
 Her body swelPd, her face obscure was made, 
 
 Vanished her garments rich and vestures strange ; 
 A giantess before him high she stands, 
 Like Briareus armed with an hundred hands ; 
 
 xxxvi. 
 With fifty swords and fifty targets bright, 
 
 She threaten'd death, she roared, cry'd, and fought: 
 Each other nymph, in armour likewise dight, 
 
 A cyclops great became. He fear'd them nought, 
 But on the myrtle smote with all his might, 
 
 That groan'd like living souls to death nigh brought ; 
 The sky seem'd Pluto's court, the air seenVd hell, 
 Therein such monsters roar, such spirits yell : 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Lightened the heav'n above, the earth below 
 Roared aloud ; that thunder d, and this shook : 
 
 Bluster'd the tempests strong, the whirlwinds blow, 
 The bitter storm drove hailstones in his look : 
 
 But yet his arm grew neither weak nor slow, 
 Nor of that fury heed or care he took, 
 
 Till low to earth the wounded tree down bended ; 
 
 Then fled the spirits all, the charms all ended : 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The heav'ns grew clear, the air wax'd calm and still. 
 The wood returned to its wonted state ; 
 
 Of witchcrafts free, quite void of spirits ill, 
 Of horror full, but horror there innate : 
 
 He further prov'd if aught withstood his will 
 To cut those trees as did the charms of late ; 
 
 And finding nought to stop him, smil'd and said-* 
 
 O shadows vain ! fools, of shades afraid ! 
 
BOOK XV1I1. OF JERUSALEM. 183 
 
 From thence home to the camp-ward turn'd the knight. 
 
 The hermit cry'd, up-starting from his seat 
 Now of the wood the charms have lost their might, 
 
 The sprites are conquer'd, ended is the feat : 
 See where he comes. In glist'ring white all dight 
 
 Appear'd the man, bold, stately, high, and great ; 
 His eagle's silver wings to shine begun 
 With wond'rous splendour 'gainst the golden sun, 
 
 XL. 
 
 The camp receiv'd him with a joyful cry, 
 A cry the dales and hills about that fill'd ; 
 
 Then Godfrey welcom'd him with honours high, 
 His glory quench'd all spite, all envy kill'd. 
 
 To yonder dreadful grove, (quoth he,) went I, 
 And from the fearful wood, as me you will'd, 
 
 Have driven the sprites away ; thither let be 
 
 Your people sent, the way is safe and free. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Sent were the workmen thither, thence they brought 
 Timber enough, by good advice select ; 
 
 And though by skill-less builders frarn'd and wrought, 
 Their engines rude and rams were late erect, 
 
 Yet now the forts and tow'rs from whence they fought 
 Were framed by a cunning architect; 
 
 William, of all the Genoas lord and guide, 
 
 Which late rul'd all the seas from side to side, 
 XLII. 
 
 But forced to retire from it at last, 
 
 The Pagan fleet the sea's moist empire won ; 
 
 His men with all their stuff and store in haste 
 Home to the camp with their commander run: 
 
 In skill, in wit, in cunning, him surpass'd 
 Yet never engineer beneath the sun ; 
 
 Of carpenters an hundred large he brought, 
 
 That what their lord devised made and wrought. 
 
184 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 This man began with wond'rous art to make. 
 Not rams, not mighty brakes, not slings alone, 
 
 Wherewith the firm and solid walls to shake, 
 To cast a dart or throw a shaft or stone; 
 
 But, fram'd of pines and firs, did undertake 
 To build a fortress huge, to which was none 
 
 Yet ever like; whereof he cloth'd the sides, 
 
 Against the balls of fire, with raw bulls' hides: 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 In mortisses and sockets framed just, 
 
 The beams, the studs, and puncheons join'd he fast; 
 To beat the city's wall, beneath forth burst 
 
 A ram with horned front; about her waist 
 A bridge the engine from her side out thrust, 
 
 Which on the wall when need required she cast; 
 And from her top a turret small up stood, 
 Strong, surely arm'd, and builded of like wood : 
 
 XLV. 
 Set on an hundred wheels the rolling mass 
 
 On the smooth lands went nimbly up and down, 
 Though full of arms and armed men it was, 
 
 Yet with small pains it ran as it had flown. 
 Wonder'd the camp so quick to see it pass, 
 
 They prais'd the workmen and their skill unknown ; 
 And on that day two tow'rs they builded more, 
 Like that which sweet Clorinda burnt before. 
 XLVI. 
 
 Yet wholly were not from the Saracines 
 
 Their works concealed and their labours hid, 
 
 Upon that wall which next the camp confines, 
 They placed spies who marked all they did : 
 
 They saw the ashes wild and squared pines, 
 
 How to the tents, trail'd from the grove, they slid ; 
 
 And engines huge they saw, yet could not tell 
 
 How they were built, their forms they saw not well. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 185 
 
 Their engines eke they rear'd, and with great art 
 Repaired each bulwark, turret, port, and tow'r, 
 
 And fortify'd the plain and easy part, 
 
 To bide the storm of every warlike stour ; 
 
 Till, as they thought, no sleight or force of mart 
 To undermine or scale the same had pow'r ; 
 
 And false Ismeno 'gan new balls prepare 
 
 Of wicked fire, wild, wond'rous, strange, and rare; 
 XLVIII. 
 
 He mingled brimstone with bitamen fell, 
 
 Fetch'd from that lake where Sodom erst did sink ; 
 
 And from that flood which nine times compass'd hell, 
 Some of the liquor hot he brought, I think, 
 
 Wherewith the quenchless lire he temper'd well, 
 To make it smoke and flame and deadly stink ; 
 
 And for his wood cut down the aged sire 
 
 Would thus reveogement take with flame and fire. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 While thus the camp, and thus the town were bent, 
 These to assault, these to defend the wall, 
 
 A speedy dove through the clear welkin went, 
 Straight o'er the tents, seen by the soldiers all ; 
 
 With nimble fans the yielding air she rent, 
 Nor seem'd it that she would alight or fall, 
 
 Till she arriv'd near that besieged town, 
 
 Then from the clouds at last she stooped down : 
 
 L. 
 
 But, lo ! from whence T nolt, a falcon came, 
 Armed with crooked bill and talons long, 
 
 And 'twixt the camp and city cross'd her game, 
 That durst not bide her foe's encounter strong, 
 
 But right upon the royal tent down came, 
 And there the lords and princes great among, 
 
 When the sharp hawk nigh loueh'd her tender head, 
 
 In Godfrey's lap she fell, with fear half dead : 
 
186 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 The Duke received her, saved her, and spy'd, 
 As he beheld the bird, a wond'rous thing; 
 
 About her neck a letter close was tied 
 
 By a small thread, and thrust under her wing; 
 
 He loosed forth the writ and spread it wide, 
 
 And read th' intent thereof : To Judah's King 
 
 (Thns said the schedule) honours high increase, 
 
 Th' Egyptian chieftain wisheth health and peace : 
 
 LIK 
 
 Fear not, renowned Prince, resist, endure 
 Till the third day, or till the fourth at most; 
 
 I come, and your deliverance will procure, 
 
 And kill your coward foes and all their host. 
 
 This secret in that brief was clos'd up sure, 
 Writ in strange language, to the winged post 
 
 Giv'n to transport ; for in their warlike need, 
 
 The East such message us'd oft with good speed. 
 LIII. 
 
 The Duke let go the captive dove at large, 
 And she that had his counsel close bewray'd, 
 
 TraitVess to her great lord, touch'd not the marge 
 Of Salem's town, but fled far thence afraid. 
 
 The Duke, before all those which had or charge 
 Or office high, the letter read, and said 
 
 See how the goodness of the Lord foreshows 
 
 The secret purpose of our crafty foes; 
 
 LIV. 
 
 No longer then let us protract the time, 
 
 But scale the bulwarks of this fortress high ; 
 
 Through sweat ami labour 'gainst those rocks sublime 
 Let us ascend, which to the southward lie : 
 
 Hard will it be that way in arms to climb, 
 But yet the place and passage both know I ; 
 
 And that high wall, by site strong on that part, 
 
 Is least defenc'd by arms, by work, and art. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 187 
 
 LV. 
 
 Thou, Kairaond, on this side with all thy might 
 Assault the wall, and by those crags ascend ; 
 
 My squadrons with mine engines huge shall fight, 
 And 'gainst the northern gate my puissance bend ; 
 
 That so our foes, beguiled with the sight, 
 
 Our greatest force and pow'r shall there attend, 
 
 While my great tow'r from thence shall nimbly slide, 
 
 And batter down some worse-defended side: 
 
 Camillo, thou not far from me shalt rear 
 Another tow'r, close to the walls ybrought. 
 
 This spoken, Raimond old that sat him near, 
 
 (And while he talk'd great things tost in his thought,) 
 
 Said To Godfredo's counsel given us here 
 Nought can be added, from it taken nought; 
 
 Yet this I further wish, that some were sent 
 
 To spy their camp, their secret, and intent ; 
 
 I/VII. 
 
 That may their number and their squadrons brave 
 Describe, and through their tents disguised mask. 
 
 Quoth Tancred Lo ! a subtle squire I have, 
 A person fit to undertake this task ; 
 
 A man, quick, ready, bold, sly to deceive, 
 To answer wise, and well advis'd to ask ; 
 
 Well languaged ; and that with time and place 
 
 Can change his look, his voice, his gait, his grace. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Sent for, he came ; and when his lord him told 
 What Godfrey's pleasure was, and what his own, 
 
 He smiPd and said, forthwith he gladly would : 
 I go, (quoth he,) careless what chance be -thrown. 
 
 And where encamped be these Pagans bold; 
 Will walk in every tent, a spy unknown, 
 
 Their camp even at noon day I enter shall, 
 
 And number all their horse and footmen all; 
 
188 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 How great, how strong, how arm'd this army is, 
 And what their guide intends, I will declare; 
 
 To me the secrets of that heart of his 
 
 And hidden thoughts shall open lie and bare. 
 
 Thus Vafrine spoke, nor longer stay'd on this, 
 But for a mantle chang'd the coat he ware; 
 
 Nak'd was his neck, and 'bout his forehead bold 
 
 Of liueu white full twenty yards he rolPd : 
 
 LX. 
 
 His weapons were a Syrian bow and quiver, 
 His gestures barb'rous like the Turkish train ; 
 
 Wonder' d all they that heard his tongue deliver 
 Of every land the language true and plain ; 
 
 In Tyre, a born Phoenician by the river 
 
 Of Nile, a knight bred in th* Egyptian main, 
 
 Both people would have thought him : forth he rides 
 
 On a swift steed o'er hills arid dales that glides. 
 
 IX I. 
 
 But ere the third day came the French forth sent 
 Their pioneers to even the rougher ways, 
 
 And ready made each warlike instrument, 
 Nor aught their labour interrupts or stays ; 
 
 The nights in busy toil they likewise spent, 
 
 And with long evenings lengthen'd forth short daysj 
 
 Till nought was left the hosts that hinder might 
 
 To use their utmost power and strength in fight. 
 
 That day which of th' assault the day forerun, 
 The godly Duke in prayer spent well nigh, 
 
 And all the rest, because they had misdone, 
 The sacrament receive, and mercy cry; 
 
 Then oft the Duke his engines great begun 
 To shew, where least he would their strength 
 
 His foes rejoic'd, deluded in that sort, 
 
 To see them bent against their surest port : 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 189 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 But after, aided by the friendly night, 
 
 His greatest engine to that side he brought [might 
 Where plainest seem'd the wall, where with their 
 
 The flankers least could hurt them as they fought ; 
 And to the southern mountain's greatest height, 
 
 To raise his turret old Rairuondo sought: 
 And thou, Camillo, on that part had'st thine, 
 Where from the north the walls did westward twine. 
 
 But when amid the eastern heav'n appeared 
 The rising morning bright as shining glass, 
 
 The troubled Pagans saw, and seeing fear'd, 
 
 How the great tow'r stood not where late it was ; 
 
 And here and there tofore unseen was rear'd, 
 Of timber strong, a huge and fearful mass ; 
 
 And numberless with beams, with ropes, and strings, 
 
 They view the iron rams, the brakes, and slings. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 The Syrian people now were no whit slow 
 Their best defences to that side to bear 
 
 Where Godfrey did his greatest engine show, 
 
 From thence where late in vain they placed were ; 
 
 But he who at his back right well did know 
 The host of Egypt to be 'proaching near, 
 
 To him cali'd Guelpho and the Roberts twain, 
 
 And said On horseback look you still remain, 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 And have regard, while all our people strive 
 
 To scale this wall where weak it seems and thin, 
 
 Lest unawares some sudden host arrive, 
 And at our backs uulook'd-for war begin. 
 
 This said, three fierce assaults at once they give, 
 The hardy soldiers all would die or win ; 
 
 And on three parts resistance makes the King, [bring? 
 
 And rage 'gainst strength, despair 'gainst hope doth 
 
190 THE RECOVERY BOOK 
 
 Himself upon his limbs, with feeble eild 
 
 That shook unwieldy with their proper weight, 
 
 His armour laid and long unused shield, [height. 
 And march'd 'gainst R almond to the mountain's 
 
 Great Soliman 'gainst Godfrey took the field; 
 Forenenst Camilio stood Argantes straight, 
 
 "Where Tancred strong he found ; so fortune will 
 
 That this good Prince his wonted foe shall kill. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 The archers shot their arrows sharp and keen, 
 Dipp'd in the bitter juice of poison strong, 
 
 The shady face of heav'n was scanlly seen, 
 
 Hid with the clouds of shafts and quarries long; 
 
 Yet weapons sharp with greater fury been 
 
 Cast from the towers the Pagan troops among, 
 
 For thence flew stones and clifts of marble rocks, 
 
 Trees shod with iron, timber, logs, and blocks: 
 
 LX1X. 
 
 A thunderbolt seenTd every stone, it brake 
 His limbs and armours so on whom it light, 
 
 That life and soul it did not only take, 
 
 But all his shape and face disfigured quite ; 
 
 The lances stay'd not in the wounds they make, 
 But through the gored body took their flight, 
 
 From side to side, through flesh, through skin and 
 
 They flew, and flying left sad death behind. [rind 
 
 LXX. 
 
 But yet not all this force and fury drove 
 The Pagan people to forsake the wall, 
 
 But to revenge these deadly blows they strove, 
 With darts that fly, with stones and trees that fall: 
 
 For need so cowards oft courageous prove, 
 For liberty they fight, for life and all, 
 
 And oft with arrows, shafts, and stones that fly, 
 
 Give bitter answer to a sharp reply. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 191 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 This while the fierce assailants never cease, 
 But sternly still maintain a threefold charge, 
 
 And 'gainst the clouds of shafts draw nigh at ease, 
 Under a pentise made of many a targe, 
 
 The armed towers close to the bulwarks prease, 
 And strive to grapple with the battled marge, 
 
 And launch their bridges out ; meanwhile below 
 
 With iron fronts the rams the walls down throw. 
 
 Yet still Rinaldo unresolved went, 
 
 And far unworthy him this service thought, 
 
 If 'mongst the common sort his pains he spent; 
 Renown so got the Prince esteemed nought; 
 
 His angry looks on every side he bent, 
 And where most hartn most danger was he sought ; 
 
 And where the wall high, strong, and surest was, 
 
 That part would he assault, and that way pass : 
 
 I.XXIII. 
 
 And turning to the worthies him behind, 
 
 All hardy knights, whom Dudon late did guide: 
 
 O shame ! (quoth he,) this wall no war doth find, 
 When batter'd is elsewhere each part, each sidt ; 
 
 AH pain is safety to a valiant mind, 
 
 Each way is eath to him that dares abide; 
 
 Come, let us scale this wall, though strong and high, 
 
 And with your shields keep off the darts that fly. 
 LXXIV. 
 
 With him united all while thus he spake, 
 
 Their targets hard above their heads they threw, 
 
 Which join'd in one an iron pentise make, 
 
 That from the dreadful storm preserv'd the crew : 
 
 Defended thus their speedy course they take, 
 And to the wall without resistance drew, 
 
 For that strong penticle protected well 
 
 The knights from all that flew and all that fell. 
 
192 THE RECOVERY BOOK XTIII. 
 
 Against the fort Rinaldo 'gan up rear 
 
 A ladder huge, an hundred steps of height, 
 
 And on his arm the same did eas'ly bear 
 
 And move, as winds do reeds or rushes light: 
 
 Sometimes a tree, a rock, a dart, or spear, 
 
 Fell from ahove, yet forward climh'd the knight, 
 
 And upward fearless preased, careless still 
 
 Though mount Olympus fell or Ossa bill : 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 A mount of ruins, and of shafts a wood, 
 Upon his shoulders and his shield he bore, 
 
 One hand the ladder held whereon he stood, 
 The other bare his targe his face before : 
 
 His hardy troop, by his ensample good 
 
 Provok'd, with him the place assaulted sore, 
 
 And ladders long against the walls they clap, 
 
 Unlike in courage yet, unlike in hap : 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 One died, another fell, he forward went, 
 
 And these he comforts and he threat'neth those, 
 
 Now with his hand outstretched the battlement 
 Well nigh he reach'd, when ail his armed foes 
 
 Ran thither, and their force and fury bent 
 To throw him headlong down, yet up he goes ; 
 
 A woud'rous thing, one knight whole armed bands, 
 
 Alone, and hanging in the air, withstands ! 
 
 LXXV1II. 
 
 Withstands, and forceth his great strength so far, 
 That like a palm whereon huge weight doth rest s 
 
 His forces so resisted stronger are, 
 
 His virtues higher rise the more oppress'd, 
 
 Till all that would his entrance bold debar 
 He backward drove, upleaped, and possessed 
 
 The wall, and safe and easy with his blade 
 
 To all that after came the'passage made. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 193 
 
 There killing such as durst and did withstand, 
 To noble Eustace, that was like to fall, 
 
 He reached forth his friendly conqu'ring hand. 
 And next himself help'd him to mount the wall* 
 
 This while Godfredo and his people fand 
 
 Their lives to greater harms and dangers thrall ; 
 
 For there not man with man, nor knight with knight 
 
 Contend, but engines there with engines fight: 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 For in that place the Paynims rear'd a post, 
 
 Which late had scrv'd some gallant ship for mast, 
 
 And over it another beam they cross'd, 
 Pointed with iron sharp, to it made fast 
 
 With ropes, which, as men would, the dormant tost 
 Now out, now iu, now back> now forward cast; 
 
 In its swift pullfes oft the men withdrew 
 
 The tree, and oft the riding balk forth threw: 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 The mighty beam redoubled oft its blows, 
 
 And with such force the engine smote and hit, 
 
 That her broad side the tow'r wide open throws, 
 Her joints were broke, her rafters cleft and split : 
 
 But yet, 'gainst every hap whence mischief grows 
 Prepar'd, the piece ('gainst such extremes made fit) 
 
 Launched forth two scythes, sharp, cutting, long, and 
 
 And cut the ropes whereon the engine rode, [broad, 
 LXXXII. 
 
 As an old rock, which age or stormy wind 
 
 Tears from some craggy hill or mountain steep, 
 
 Doth break, doth bruise, and into dust doth grind 
 Woods, houses, hamlets, herds, and folds of sheep ; 
 
 So fell the beam, and down with it all kind 
 Of arms, of weapons, and of men did sweep, 
 
 Wherewith the towers once or twice did shake, 
 
 Trembled the walls, the bills and mountains quake. 
 
 TOL. II. O 
 
194 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIU. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Victorious Godfrey boldly forward came, 
 
 And had great hope even then the place to win : 
 
 But, lo ! a fire, with stench, with smoke, and flame, 
 Withstood his passage, stopp'd his entrance in : 
 
 Such burnings .Etna yet could never frame, 
 When from her entrails hot her fires begin 5 
 
 Nor yet in summer, on the Indian plain, 
 
 Such vapours warm from scorching air down rain. 
 
 LXXXJV. 
 
 Here balls of wild-fire, there fly burning spears, 
 This flame was black, that blue, this red as blood ; 
 
 Stench well-nig,h choketh them, noise deafs their ears, 
 Smoke blinds their eyes, fire kindieth on the wood $ 
 
 Nor those raw hides, which for defence it wear, 
 Could save the tow'r, in such distress it stood ; 
 
 For now they wrinkle, now it sweats and fries, 
 
 Now burns, unless some help come down from skies. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 The hardy Duke before his folk abides, 
 
 Nor chang'd he colour, countenance, or place, 
 
 But comforts those that from the scaldred hides 
 With water strove th' approaching flames to chase: 
 
 In these extremes, the Prince and those he guides 
 Half roasted stood before fierce Vulcan's face ; 
 
 When, lo ! a sudden and unlook'd-for blast 
 
 The flames against the kindlers backward cast ; 
 
 The winds drove back the fire where heaped lie 
 The Pagans' weapons, where their engines were; 
 
 Which kindling quickly in that substance dry, 
 Burnt all their store and all their warlike gear. 
 
 O glorious captain! whom the Lord from high 
 Defends, whom God preserves and holds so dear; 
 
 For thee heav'n fights, to thee the winds from far, 
 
 Call'd with thy trumpet's blast, obedient are. 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 195 
 
 LXXXTII. 
 
 But wicked Israen to his harm that saw 
 
 How the fierce blast drove back the fire and flame, 
 By art would uature change, and thence withdraw 
 
 Those noisome winds, else calm and still the same : 
 'Twixt two false wizards, without fear or awe, 
 
 Upon the walls in open sight he came ; 
 Black, grisly, loathsome, grins, and ugly faced, 
 Like Pluto old betwixt two furies placed : 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 And now the wretch those dreadful words begun, 
 Which tremble make deep hell and all her flock ; 
 
 Now troubled is the air, the golden sun 
 
 His fearful beams in clouds did close and lock; 
 
 When from the tow'r, which Ismen could not shun, 
 Out flew a mighty stone, late half a rock, 
 
 Which light so just upon the wizards thre, 
 
 That driv'n to dust their bones and bodies be ; 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 To less than nought their members old were torn, 
 And shiver'd were their heads to pieces small, 
 
 As small as are the bruised grains ot'coru, 
 
 When from the mill resolv'd to meal they fall ; 
 
 Their damned souls to deepest hell down borne, 
 Far from the joy and light celestial, 
 
 The furies plunged in th' infernal lake : 
 
 O mankind ! at their ends ensample take. 
 
 xc. 
 
 This while the engine, which thelempest cold 
 Had sav'd from burning with his friendly blast, 
 
 Approached had so near the batter' d hold, 
 That on the walls her bridge at ease she cast ; 
 
 But Soliman ran thither fierce and bold, 
 
 To cut the plank whereon the Christians pass'd, 
 
 And had perform'd his will, save that up-rear'd 
 
 High in the skies a turret new appeared 5 
 o 2 
 
196 THE RECOVERY BOOK XVIII. 
 
 Far in the air up-climb'd the fortress tall. 
 
 Higher than house, than steeple, church, or tower; 
 
 The Pagans trerahled to behold the wall 
 And city subject to its shot and power: 
 
 Yet kept the Turk his stand, though on him fall 
 Of stones and darts a sharp and deadly shower; 
 
 And stHI to cut the bridge he hopes and strives, 
 
 And those that fear with cheerful speech revives. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 The angel Michael, to all the rest 
 
 Unseen, appear'd before Godfredo's eyes, 
 
 In pure and heav'nly armour richly, drcss'd, 
 Brighter than Titan's rays in clearest skies : 
 
 Godfrey, (quoth he,) this is the moment bless'd 
 To free this town that long in bondage lies ; 
 
 See ! see what legions in thine aid I bring, 
 
 For heav'n assists thee, and heav'n's glorioas King : 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 Lift up thine eyes and in the air behold 
 The sacred armies how they muster' d be; 
 
 That cloud of flesh in which from times of old 
 All mankind wrapped is I take from thee, 
 
 And from thy senses their thick mist unfold, 
 That face to face thou may'st these spirits see, 
 
 And for a little space right well sustain 
 
 Their glorious light, and view those angels plain : 
 
 xciv. 
 
 Behold the souls of every lord and knight 
 
 That late bore arms and died for Christ's dear sake, 
 
 How on thy side against this town they fight, 
 And of thy joy and conquest will partake : 
 
 There where the dust and smoke blind all men's sight, 
 Where stones and ruins such an heap do make, 
 
 There Hugo fights, in thickest cloud embar'd, 
 
 And undermines that bulwark's ground-work hard : 
 
BOOK XTIII. OF JERUSALEM. 197 
 
 See Dudoo yonder, who with sword and fire 
 Assails and helps to scale the northern port, 
 
 That with bold courage doth thy folk inspire, 
 And rears their ladders 'gainst th' assaulted fort: 
 
 He that high on the mount in grave attire 
 Is clad, and crowned stands in kingly sort, 
 
 Is Bishop Ademare, a blessed spirit, 
 
 Bless' d for his faith, crowii'd for his death and merit : 
 xcvi. 
 
 But higher lift thy happy eyes, and view 
 
 Where all the sacred hosts of heav'n appear. 
 
 He look'd, and saw where winged armies flew, 
 Innumerable, pure, divine, and clear ; 
 
 A battaile round of squadrons three they shew, 
 And all by threes those squadrons ranged were, 
 
 Which spreading wide in rings still wider go ; 
 
 Mov'd with a sloae, calm water circlelh so. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 With that he wink'd, and vanish'd was and gone 
 That wond'rous vision when he look'd again ; 
 
 His worthies fighting view'd he one by one, 
 And ou each side saw signs of conquest plain ; 
 
 For with Rinuldo 'gainst his yielding fone 
 
 His knights were enter'd and the Pagans slain : 
 
 This seen, the Duke no longer stay could brook, 
 
 But from the bearer bold his ensign took, 
 
 xcvni. 
 
 And on the bridge he stepp'd, but there was stay'd 
 By Soliman, who entrance all denied : 
 
 That narrow tree to virtue great was made 
 
 The field, as in few blows right soon was try'd: 
 
 Here will I give my life for Sion's aid, 
 
 Here will I end my days (the Soldan cry'd) j 
 
 Behind me cut or break this bridge, that I 
 
 May kill a thousand Christia-as first, then die. 
 
198 THE RECOVERY BOOK 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 But thither fierce Hinaldo threatening went. 
 And at his sight fled all the Soldan's train. 
 
 What shall I do ? If here my life be spent, 
 
 I spend and spill (quoth he) my blood in vain. 
 
 With that his steps from Godfrey back he bent, 
 And to him let the passage free remain, 
 
 Who threatening follow'd as the Soldan fled, 
 
 And on the walls the purple cross dispread; 
 
 c. 
 
 About his head he toss'd, he turn'd, he cast 
 Tht glorious ensign, with a thousand twines. 
 
 Thereon the wind breathes with his sweetest blast, 
 Thereon with golden rays glad Phoebus shines, 
 
 Earth laughs for joy, the streams forbear their haste, 
 Floods clap their hands, on mountains dance the 
 
 And Sion's towers and sacred temples smile [pines, 
 
 For their deliverance from that bondage vile. 
 
 ci. 
 
 And now the armies rear'd the happy cry 
 Of victory, glad, joyful, loud and shrill, 
 
 The hills resound, the echo shouteth high, 
 
 And Tancred bold, that fights and combats still 
 
 With proud Argantes, brought his tower so nigh, 
 That on the wall, against the boaster's will, 
 
 In his despite his bridge he also laid, 
 
 And won the place, and there the cross displayed. 
 
 en. 
 But on the southern hill, where R almond fought 
 
 Against the townsmen and their aged King, 
 His hardy Gascoignes gained small or nought, 
 
 Their engine to the walls they could not bring ; 
 For thither all his strength the Prince had brought, 
 
 For life and safety sternly combatting; 
 And for the wall was feeblest on that coast, 
 There were his soldiers best and engines most 
 
BOOK XVIII. OF JERUSALEM. 190 
 
 Besides, the tow'r upon that quarter found 
 
 Unsure, uneasy, and uneven the way, 
 Nor art could help, but that the rougher ground 
 
 The rolling mass did often stop and stay : 
 But now of victory the joyful sound 
 
 The King and Rairaond heard amid their fray, 
 And by the shout they and their soldiers know 
 The town was enter'd on the plain below. 
 
 civ. 
 
 Which heard, Raimondo thus bespake this crew : 
 The town is won, ray friends, and doth it yet 
 
 Resist ? Are we kept out still by these few ? 
 Shall we no share in this high conquest get ? 
 
 But from that part the King at last withdrew, 
 He strove in vain their entrance there to let, 
 
 And to a stronger place his folk he brought, 
 
 Where to sustain th' assault awhile he thought. 
 
 cv. 
 
 The conquerors at once now enter'd all, 
 
 The walls were won, the gates were open'd wide ; 
 
 Now bruised, broken down, destroyed fall 
 
 The-ports and towers that batt'ry durst abide : 
 
 Rageth the sword, death murd'reth great and small, 
 And proud 'twixt woe and horror sad doth ride; 
 
 Here runs the blood, in ponds there stands the gore, 
 
 And drowns the knights in whom it liv'd before. 
 
200 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 BOOK XIX. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tancrcd in single combat kills his foe, 
 Argantes strong. The King and Soldanfly 
 
 To David's tow'r, and save their persons so. 
 
 Erminia well instructs Vafrine the spy ; 79 
 
 With him she rides away, and as they go 85 
 
 Finds where her lord for dead on earth doth lie: 102 
 
 First she laments, then cures him. Godfrey hears 
 
 Ormondo's treason, and what marks he bears. 126 
 
 Now death, or fear, or care to save their lives, 
 From their forsaken walls the Pagans chace; 
 
 Yet neither force, nor fear, nor wisdom drives 
 The constant knight, Argantes, from his place; 
 
 Alone against ten thousand foes he strives, 
 
 Yet dreadiess, doubtless, careless soetn'd his face ; 
 
 Not death, not danger, but disgrace he fears, 
 
 And still unconquer'd (though beset) appears. 
 
 n. 
 
 But 'mongst the rest upon his helmet gay 
 
 With his broad sword Tancredie came and smote: 
 
 The Pagan knew the Prince by his array, 
 
 By his strong blows, his armour, and his coat; 
 
 For once they fought, and when night stay'd that fray, 
 New time they chose to end their combat hot, 
 
 But Tancred fail'd, wherefore the Pagan knight 
 
 Cry'd Tancred, com'st thou thus, thus late to fight? 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 201 
 
 Too late thou com'st, and not alone, to war, 
 But yet the fight I neither shun nor fear, 
 
 Although from knighthood true thou errest far, 
 Since like an engineer thou dost appear, 
 
 That tower, that troop, thy shield and safety are ; 
 Strange kind of arms in single fight to bear! 
 
 Yet shall thou not escape (0 conqueror strong 
 
 Of ladies fair !) sharp death to 'veuge that wrong 
 
 IV. 
 
 Lord Tancred smiled with disdain and scorn, 
 And answer'd thus: To end our strife (quoth he) 
 
 Behold at last 1 come, and my return 
 
 (Though late) perchance will he too soon for thee; 
 
 For thou shalt wish, of hope and help forlorn, 
 Some sea or mountain plac'd 'twixt thee and me; 
 
 And well shalt know, hefore we end this fray, 
 
 No fear or cowardice hath caus'd my stay ; 
 
 v. 
 
 But come aside, thou by whose prowess dies 
 The monsters, knights, and giants in all lands, 
 
 The killer of weak women thee defies 
 This said, he turned to his fighting bands 
 
 And bids them all retire -.-Forbear (he cries) 
 
 To strike this knight ; on him Let none lay hands, 
 
 For mine he is, more than a common foe, 
 
 By challenge new and promise old also.. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Descend (the fierce Circassian 'gan reply) 
 Alone, or all this troop for succour take, 
 
 To deserts waste, or place frequented high, 
 For 'vantage none I will the fight forsake. 
 
 Thus given and taken was the bold defy, 
 
 And through the prease (agreed so) they brake; 
 
 Their hatred made them one, and as they wend 
 
 Each knight his foe did for despite defend. 
 
202 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Great was his thirst of praise, great the desire 
 That Tancred had the Pagan's blood to spill, 
 
 Nor could that quench his wrath or calm his ire, 
 If other hand his foe should foil or kill ; 
 
 He sav'd him with his shield, and cry'd Retire, 
 (To all he met,) and do this knight none ill. 
 
 And thus defending 'gainst his friends his foe, 
 
 Through thousand angry weapons safe they go. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 They left the city, and they left behind 
 Godfredo's camp, and far beyond it passed ; 
 
 And came, where into creeks and bosoms blind 
 A winding hill his corners turn'd and cast; 
 
 A valley small and shady dale they find 
 
 Amid the mountains steep, so laid and plac'd 
 
 As if some theatre or closed place 
 
 Had been, for men to fight or beasts to chace : 
 
 IT. 
 
 There stay'd the champions both. With rueful eye* 
 Argantes 'gan the fortress won to view. 
 
 Tancred his foe withonten shield espies, 
 And far away his target therefore threw, 
 
 And said Whereon doth thy sad heart devise ? 
 Thiuk'st thou this hour must end thy life untrue? 
 
 If this thou fear, and dost foresee thy fate, 
 
 Thy fear is vain, thy foresight comes too late. 
 
 x. 
 
 I think (quoth he) on this distressed town, 
 The aged queen of Judah's ancient land, 
 
 Now lost, now sacked, spoil'd and trodden down, 
 Whose fall in vain I strived to withstand ; 
 
 A small revenge, for Sion's fort overthrown, 
 Tiiat head can be cut oil* by my strong hand. 
 
 This said, together with great heed they flew. 
 
 For each his foe for bold and hardy knew. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 203 
 
 XI. 
 Tancred of body active was and light, 
 
 Quick, nimble* ready both of hand and foot: 
 But higher by the head the Pagan knight 
 
 Of limbs far greater was, of heart as stout. 
 Tancred laid low and travers'd in his fight, 
 
 Now to bis ward retired, now struck out ; 
 Oft with his sword his foe's fierce blows he broke, 
 And rather chose to ward than bear his stroke. 
 
 But bold and bolt upright Argantes fought, 
 Unlike in gesture, like in skill and art ; 
 
 His sword outstretch'd before him far he brought, 
 Nor would his weapon touch, but pierce his heart t 
 
 To catch his point prince Tancred strove and sought, 
 But at his breast or helm's unclosed part [brand 
 
 He threatened death, and would with stretch'd out 
 
 His entrance close and fierce assaults withstand. 
 
 With a tall ship so doth a galley fight, 
 When the still winds stir not t h' unstable main, 
 
 Where this in nimbleness as that in might 
 
 Excels; that stands, this goe and come* again, 
 
 And shifts from prow to poop with turnings light : 
 Meanwhile the other doth unmov'd remain, 
 
 And on her nimble foe approacheth nigh, 
 
 Her weighty engine* tumbleth down from high. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Christian sought to enter on his foe, 
 Voiding his point, which at his breast was bent; 
 
 Argantes at his face a thrust did throw. 
 
 Which while the Prince awards and doth prevent., 
 
 His ready hand the Pagan turned so, 
 
 That all defence his quickness far o'erwent,! 
 
 And pierc'd his side ; which done he said, and sniil'd 
 
 The craftsman is iu his own craft beguil'd. 
 
204 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Tancredie bit his lips for scorn and shame, 
 Nor longer stood on points of fence and skill, 
 
 But to reveng6 so fierce and fast he came, 
 As if his hand could not overtake his will; 
 
 And at his vizor aiming just, 'gau frame 
 
 To his proud boast an answer sharp ; bat still 
 
 Argantes broke the thrust; and at half-sword, 
 
 Swift, hardy, bold, in stept the Christian lord ; 
 
 XVI. 
 
 With his left foot fast forward 'gan he stride, 
 And with his left the Pagan's right arm hent; 
 
 With his right hand meanwhile the man's right side 
 He cut, he wounded, mangled, tore, and rent : 
 
 To his victorious teacher, (Tancred cry'd,) 
 His conquered scholar hath this answer sent. 
 
 Argantes chafed, struggled, turn'd, and twin'd, 
 
 Yet could not so his captive arm unbind: 
 
 XVII. 
 
 His sword at last he let hang by the chain, 
 And grip'd his hardy foe in both his hands ; 
 
 In his strong arms Tancred caught him again, 
 And thus each other held and wrapt in bands. 
 
 With greater might Alcides did not strain 
 The giant Anteus on the Lybian sands ; 
 
 On hold-fast knots their brawny arms they cast, 
 
 And whom he hateth most each held embraced i 
 
 Such was their wrestling, such their shocks and throws 
 That down at once they tumbled both to ground ; 
 
 Argantes (were it hap or skill who knows) 
 His better hand loose and in freedom found ; 
 
 But the good Prince, his hand more fit for blows, 
 With his huge weight the Pagan underbouad ; 
 
 But he, his disadvantage great that knew, 
 
 Let go his hold, and oa his feet up flew. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 20-5 
 
 Far slower rose th' unwieldy Saracine, 
 
 And caught a rap ere he was rear'd upright: 
 
 But as against tiie blust'ring winds a pine 
 
 Now bends his top, now lifts his head on height, 
 
 His courage so, when it 'gan most decline, 
 The man reinforced and advanc'd his might, 
 
 And with fierce change of blows renew'd the fray, 
 
 Where rage for skill, horror for art bore sway. 
 
 xx. 
 
 The purple drops from Tancred's sides down railed, 
 But from the Pagan ran whole streams of blood, 
 
 Wherewith his force grew weak, his courage quailed, 
 As fires decay w,hich fuel want or food. 
 
 Tancred, that saw his feeble arm now failed 
 
 To strike his blows* that scant he stirr'd or stood, 
 
 Assuag'd his anger and his wrath allay'd, 
 
 And stepping back, thus gently spoke and said : 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Yield, hardy knight, and chance of war, or me, 
 Confess to have subdued thee in this fight; 
 
 I will no trophy, triumph, spoil of thee, 
 Nor glory wish, nor seek a victor's right. 
 
 More terrible than erst herewith grew he, 
 And all awak'd his fury, rage, and might, 
 
 And said Dar'st thou of 'vantage speak or think, 
 
 Or move Argantes once to yield or shrink? 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Use, use thy 'vantage ; thee and fortune both 
 I scorn, and punish will thy foolish pride. 
 
 As a hot brand flames most ere it forth go'th, 
 And dying blazeth bright on every side; 
 
 So he (when blood was lost) with anger wroth 
 Revived his courage, when his puissance died ; 
 
 And would his latest hour, which now drew nigh, 
 
 Illustrate with his eud, and nobly die : 
 
206 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 He join'd his left hand to her sister strong, 
 And with them hoth let fail his weighty blade. 
 
 Taucred to ward his Mow his sword up flung, 
 But that it smote aside, nor there it stay'd, 
 
 But from his shoulder to his side along 
 
 It glanc'd, and many wounds at once it made: 
 
 Yet Tancred feared nought, for in his heart 
 
 Found coward dread no place, fear had no part. 
 
 xxiv. 
 
 His fearful blow he doubled, but he spent 
 
 His force in waste, and all his strength in vain; 
 
 For Tancred from the blow against him bent 
 
 Leaped aside, the stroke fell on the plain : [went, 
 
 With thine own weight o'erthrown to earth thou 
 Argantes stout, nor could'st thyself sustain, 
 
 Thyself thou threwest down, happy man! 
 
 Upon whose fall none boast or triumph can. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 His gaping wounds the fall set open wide, 
 
 The streams of blood about him made a lake; 
 
 Help'd with his left hand, on one knee he tried 
 To rear himself, and new defence to make. 
 
 The courteous Prince stepp'd back, and Yield thee, 
 No hurt he proffer'd him, no blow hestrake. [cried ; 
 
 Meanwhile, by stealth, the Pagan false him gave 
 
 A sudden wound, threat'ning with speeches brave. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Herewith Tancredie furious grew, and said 
 Villain ! dost thou my mercy so despise ? 
 
 Therewith he thrust and thrust again his blade, 
 And through his venial pierc'd his dazzled eyes. 
 
 Argantes died, yet no complaint he made, 
 But as he furious liv'd he careless dies ; 
 
 Bold, proud, disdainful, fierce, and void of fear, 
 
 His motions last, last looks, last speeches were. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 207 
 
 Tancred put up his sword, and praises glad 
 Gave to his God, that s.iv'd him in this fight; 
 
 But yet this bloody conquest feebled had [might, 
 So" much the conqueror's force, his strength, and 
 
 That through the way he fear'd, which homeward lead, 
 He had uot strength enough to walk upright ; 
 
 Yet, as he could, his steps from thence he beat, 
 
 And foot by foot a heavy pace forth went : 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 His legs could bear him but a little stound, 
 
 And more he hastes (more tird) less was his speed ; 
 
 On his right hand at last, laid on the ground, 
 He lean'd, his hand weak like a shaking reed ; 
 
 Dazzled his eyes, the world on wheels ran round, 
 Day wrapt her brightness up in sable weed ; 
 
 At length he swooned, and the victor knight 
 
 Nought differed from his conquer'd foe in sight. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But while these lords their private fight pursue, 
 Made fierce and cruel through their secret hate, 
 
 The victors' ire destroy'd the faithless crew 
 
 From street to street, and chas'd from gate to gate. 
 
 But of the sacked town the image true 
 
 Who can describe, or paint the woeful state ; 
 
 Or with fit words this spectacle express 
 
 Who can, or tell the city's great distress ? 
 
 Blood, murder, death, each street, house, church de- 
 There heaps of slain appear, there mountains high ; 
 
 There, underneath th' unburied hills up-pil'd 
 Of bodies dead, the living buried lie ; 
 
 There the sad mother with her tender child 
 Doth tear her tresses loose, complain, and fly ; 
 
 And there the spoiler, by her amber hair, 
 
 Draws to his lust the virgin chaste and fair. 
 
208 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 But through the way that to the west hill yood, 
 Whereon the old and stately temple stands, 
 
 All soil'd with gore and wet with lukewarm blood, 
 Rinaldo ran and chas'd the Pagan bands ; 
 
 Above their heads he heav'd his curtlax good, 
 Life in his grace, and death lay in his hands; 
 
 Nor helm nor target strong his blows off bears, 
 
 Best armed there seem'd he no arras that wears, 
 
 For 'gainst his armed foes he only bends 
 His force, and scorns the naked folk to wound ; 
 
 Them whom no courage arms, no arms defends, 
 He chased with his looks and dreadful sound : 
 
 O ! who can tell how far his force extends, 
 
 How these he scorns, threats those, lays them on 
 
 How with unequal harm, with equal fear, [ground! 
 
 Fled all, all that well urm'd or naked were ! 
 
 xxxni. 
 
 Fast fled the people weak, and with the same 
 A squadron strong is to the temple gone, 
 
 Which burnt and buiided oft, still keeps the name 
 Of the first founder, wise king Solomon ; 
 
 That Prince this stately house did whilome frame 
 Of cedar trees, of gold and marble stone; 
 
 Now not so rich, yet strong and sure it was, 
 
 With turrets high, thick walls, and doors of brass. 
 
 XXX1T. 
 
 The knight arrived where in warlike sort 
 The men that ample church had fortify'd, 
 
 And closed found each wicket, gate and port, 
 And on the top defences ready spy'd ; 
 
 He lift his frowning looks, and twice that fort 
 From its high top down to the groundwork ey'd, 
 
 And entrance sought, and twice with his swift foot 
 
 The mighty place he measured about. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. ~ 209 
 XXXV. 
 
 Like as a wolf about the closed fold 
 
 Rangeth by night his hoped prey to get, 
 
 Erirag'd with hunger and with malice old, 
 
 Which kind ' twixt him and harmless sheep hath set ; 
 
 So searched he high and low about that hold, 
 Where he might enter without stop or let; 
 
 In the great court he stay'd : his foes above 
 
 Attend th' assault, and would their fortune prove. 
 xxxvi. 
 
 There lay by chance a posted tree thereby, 
 Kept for some needful use ; whatever it were, 
 
 The armed galleys not so thick nor high 
 Their tall and lofty masts at Genes up-rear: 
 
 This beam the knight against the gates made fly 
 From his strong hands, all weights which lift and bear; 
 
 Like a light lance the tree he shook and toss'd, 
 
 And bruis'd the gate, the threshold, and the post : 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 No marble stone, no metal strong out-bore 
 The wond'rous might of that redoubled blow, 
 
 The brazen hinges from the walls it tore, 
 
 It broke the locks, and laid the doors down low; 
 
 No iron ram, no engine could do more, 
 
 Nor cannons great that thunderbolts forth throw : 
 
 His people like a flowing stream in throng, 
 
 And after them enter'd the victor strong. 
 
 The woeful slaughter black and loathsome made 
 That house^ sometime the sacred house of God. 
 
 O Heav'nly Justice! if thou he delay'd, 
 On wretched sinners sharper falls thy rod; 
 
 In them, this place profaned which invade, 
 Thou kindled ire, and mercy all forbode, 
 
 Until with their hearts' blood the Pagans vile 
 
 This temple wash'd, which they did late defile. 
 
310 THE RECOVERY BOOK XlX. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But Soli man this while himself fast sped 
 
 Up to the fort, which David's Tower is named, 
 
 And with him all the soldiers left he led, 
 
 And 'gainst each entrance new defences framed: 
 
 The tyrant Aladine eke thither fled, 
 
 To whom the Soldan thus (far off) exclaimed 
 
 Come, come, renowned King ! up to this rock, 
 
 Thyself within this fortress safe up-lock ; 
 
 XL. 
 
 For well this fortress shall thee and thy crown 
 Defend ; awhile here may we safe remain. 
 
 Alas ! (quoth he,) alas! for this fair town, 
 
 Which cruel war beats down ev'n with the plain : 
 
 My life is done, mine empire trodden down; 
 I reign'd, I liv'd, hut now nor live nor reign ; 
 
 For now, alas ! behold the fatal hour 
 
 That ends our lives, and ends our kingly pow'r. 
 XLI. 
 
 Where is your virtue, where your wisdom grave, 
 And courage stout, (the angry Soldan said ?) 
 
 Let chance our kingdoms take which erst she gave, 
 Yet in our hearts our kingly worth is laid; 
 
 But come, and in this fort your person save. 
 
 Refresh your weary limhs and strength decay'd. 
 
 Thus couusel'd he, and did to safety hring 
 
 Within that fort the weak and aged King. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 His iron mace in both his hands he hent, 
 And on his thigh his trusty sword he tied, 
 
 And to the entrance fierce and fearless went, 
 And kept the strait, and all the French defy'd : 
 
 The blows were mortal which he gave or lent, 
 For whom he hit he slew, else by his side 
 
 Laid low on earth, that all fled from the place 
 
 Where they beheld that great and dreadful mace. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 21 1 
 
 But old Raimondo with his hardy crew 
 
 By chance came thither, to his great mishap ; 
 
 To that defended path the old man flew, 
 
 And scorn'd his blows and him that kept the gap ; 
 
 He struck his foe, his hlow no blood forth drew, 
 But on the front with that he caught a rap, 
 
 Which in a swoon low in the dust him laid, 
 
 Wide open, trembling, with his arms displayed. 
 
 XLIV. 
 The Pagans gathered heart at last, though fear 
 
 Their courage weak had put to flight but late, 
 So that the conquerors repulsed were 
 
 And beaten back, else slain before the gate. 
 The Soldau ('mnngst the dead beside him near 
 
 That saw Lord Raimond lie in such estate) 
 Cry'd to his men Within these bars (quoth he) 
 Come draw this knight, and let him captive be.-^ 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Forward they rush'd to execute his word, 
 
 But hard and dang'rous that emprise they found, 
 
 For none of Raimond's men forsook their lord, 
 But to their guide's defence they flocked round; 
 
 Thence fury fights, hence pity draws the sword, 
 Nor strive they for vile cause or on light ground ; 
 
 The life and freedom of that champion brave, [save. 
 
 Those spoil, these would preserve, those kill, these 
 
 XLV I. 
 
 But yet at last, if they had longer fought, 
 The hardy Soldan would have won the field, 
 
 For 'gainst his thund'ring mace availed nought, 
 Or helm of temper fine, or seven-fold shield ; 
 
 But from each side great succour now was brought 
 To his weak foes, now fit to faint and yield; 
 
 And both at once, to aid and help the same, 
 
 The sovereign Duke and young Rinaldo came. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 As when a shepherd, raging round about 
 
 That sees a storm with wind, hail, thunder, rain, 
 
 (When gloomy clouds have day's bright eye put out,) 
 His tender flock drives from the open plain 
 
 To some thick grove or mountain's shady foot, [tain-; 
 Where heavVs fierce wrath they may unhurt sus- 
 
 And with his hook, his whistle, and his cries, 
 
 Drives forth his fleecy charge, and with them flies; 
 
 X-L.VHI. 
 
 So fled the Soldan when he 'gan descry 
 
 This tempest cone from angry war forth cast; 
 
 The armours clash'd and lighten'd 'gainst the sky, 
 And from each side swords, weapons, fire, out brast i 
 
 He sent his folk up to the fortress high 
 
 To shun the furious storm, himself stay 'd last; 
 
 Yet to the danger he gave place at length, 
 
 For wit his courage, wisdom rul'd his strength. 
 
 But scant th knight was safe the gate within, 
 Scant closed were the doors, when having broke 
 
 The bars, Rinaldo doth assault begin 
 
 Against the port, and on the wicket stroke 
 
 His matchless might; his great desire to win, 
 His oath and promise, doth his wrath provoke; 
 
 For he had sworn, nor should his word be vain, 
 
 To kill the man that had Prince Sweno slain. 
 
 And now his armed hand that castle great 
 Would have assaulted and had shortly won, 
 
 Nor safe pardie the Soldan there a seat 
 
 Had found, his fatal foe's sharp wrath to shun, 
 
 Had not God f redo sounded the retreat, 
 
 For now dark shades to shroud the earth begun ; 
 
 Within the town the Duke would lodge that night, 
 
 And with the morn renew th' assault atid fight. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 213 
 
 With cheerful look thus to his folk he said 
 High God hath hoipen well his children dear; 
 
 This work is done, the rest this night delay'd 
 Doth little labour bring, less doubt, no fear ; 
 
 This tower, our foes' weak hope and latest aid, 
 We conquer will when sun shall next appear ; 
 
 Meanwhile, with love and tender ruth, go see 
 
 And comfort those which hurt and wounded be ; 
 LII. 
 
 Go cure their wounds who boldly ventured 
 
 Their lives, and spilt their blood to get this hold ; 
 
 That fitteth more this host for Christ forth led, 
 Than thirst of vengeance or desire of gold : 
 
 Too much, ah ! too much blood this day is shed; 
 In some we too much haste to spoil behold ; 
 
 But I command no more you spoil and kill, 
 
 And let a trumpet publish forth my will. 
 LIU. 
 
 This said, he went where K almond panting lay, 
 Wak'd from the swoon wherein he late had been. 
 
 Nor Solimau, with countenance less gay 
 
 Bespake his troops, and kept his grief unseen: 
 
 My friends, you are unconquered this day, 
 In spite of fortune still our hope is green, 
 
 For underneath great shows of harm and fear, 
 
 Our dangers small, our losses little were: 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Burnt are your houses and your people slain, 
 
 Yet safe your town is though your walls be gone, 
 
 For in yourselves and in your Sovereign 
 Consists your city, not in lime and stone: 
 
 Your King is safe, and safe is all his train, 
 In this strong fort defended from their fone ; 
 
 And on this empty conquest let them boast, 
 
 Till with this town again their lives be lost 5 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 LV. 
 
 And on their heads the loss at last will light, 
 For with good fortune proud and insolent, 
 
 In spoil and murder spend they day and night, 
 In riot, drinking, lust, and ravishment; 
 
 And may amid their preys, with little fight, 
 
 At ease be overthrown, kill'd, slain, and spent; 
 
 If in this carelessness th' Egyptian host 
 
 Upon them fall, which now draws near this coast : 
 
 Meanwhile, the highest buildings of this town 
 
 We may shake down with stones about their ears, 
 
 And with our darts and spears from engines thrown 
 Command that hill Christ's sepulchre that bears. 
 
 Thus comforts he their hopes and hearts cast down, 
 Awakes their valours, and exiles their fears. 
 
 But while these thing hap*d thus, Vafrino goes 
 
 Unknown amid tea thousand armed foes. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 The sun nigh set had brought to end the day, 
 When Vafrine went the Pagan host to spy ; 
 
 He past unknown, a close and secret way, 
 A traveller, false, cunning, crafty, sly ; 
 
 Past Ascalon he saw the morning grey 
 
 Step o'er the threshold of the eastern sky, 
 
 And ere bright Titan half his course had run, 
 
 That camp, that mighty host, to shew begun : 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Tents infinite and standards broad he spies, 
 
 This red, that white, that blue, this purple was; 
 And hears strange tongues, and stranger harmonies 
 
 Of trumpets, clarions, and well-sounding brass; 
 The elephant there brays, the camel cries, 
 
 The horses neigh, as to. and fro they pass; 
 Which seen and heard, he said within his thought- 
 Hither all Asia is, all Afric brought. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 215 
 
 He view'd the camp awhile, her site and seat, 
 
 What ditch, what trench it had, what rampire strong; 
 Nor close nor secret ways to work his feat 
 
 He longer sought, nor hid him from the throng, 
 But enter'd through the gates, broad, royal, great, 
 
 And oft he ask'd, and answer' d oft among; 
 In questions wise, in answers short and sly; 
 Bold was his look, eyes quick, front lifted high. 
 
 LX. 
 On every side he pryed here and there, 
 
 And mark'd each way, each passage, and each tent : 
 The knights he notes, their steeds, and arms they bear, 
 
 Their names, their armours, and their government; 
 And greater secrets hopes to learn, and hear 
 
 Their hidden purpose and their close intent. 
 So long he walk'd and wander'd, till he spy'd 
 The way t' approach the great pavilion's side: 
 
 LXI. 
 
 There, as he look'd, he saw the canvass rent, 
 
 Through which the voice found eath and open way 
 
 From the close lodgings of the regal tent, 
 Arid inmost closet where the captain lay ; 
 
 So I hat if Emireno spake, forth went 
 
 The sound to them that listen what they say ; 
 
 There Vafrine watch'd, and those thatsaw him thought 
 
 To mend the breach that there he stood and wrought. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 The captain great within bare-headed stood, 
 His body arm'd, and clad in purple weed; 
 
 Two pages bore his shield and helmet good ; 
 He, leaning on a bending lance, gave heed 
 
 To a big man, whose looks were fierce and proud, 
 With whom he parlfd of some haughty deed; 
 
 Godfredo's name, as Vafrine watch'd, he heard, 
 
 Which made him give more heed, take more regard. 
 
216 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Thus spake the chieftain to that surly sire: 
 Art thou so sure that Godfrey shall be slain ? 
 
 1 am, (quoth he,) and swear ne'er to retire, 
 Except he first he kill'd, to court again ; 
 
 I will prevent those that with me conspire ; 
 Nor other guerdon ask I for my pain, 
 
 But that I may hang up his harness brave 
 
 At Caire, and under them these words engrave: 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 These arms Ormondo took in nohle fight 
 
 From Godfrey proud, that spoil'd all Asia's lands, 
 
 And with them took his life; and here on height, 
 In memory thereof, this trophy stands. 
 
 The Duke reply'd Ne'er shall that deed* hold knight, 
 Pass unrewarded at our Sovereign's hands; 
 
 What thou demandest shall he gladly grant, 
 
 Nor gold nor guerdon shalt thou wish or want : 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Those counterfeited armours then prepare, 
 Because the day of fight approacheth fast 
 
 They ready are (quoth he) Then both forbear 
 From further talk, these speeches were the last. 
 
 Vafrine (these great things heard) with grief and care 
 Remained astound* and in his thoughts oft cast 
 
 What treason false this was, how feigned were 
 
 Those arms, but yet that doubt he could not clear. 
 LXVI. 
 
 From thence he parted, and broad waking lay 
 All that long night, nor slumber'd once nor slept; 
 
 But when the camp by peep of springing day [leapt, 
 Their banners spread, and knights on horseback 
 
 With them he marched forth in meet array, 
 
 And where they pitched lodg'd, and with them kept; 
 
 And then from tent to tent he stalk'd about, 
 
 To hear aud see, and learn this secret out. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 217 
 
 Searching about, on a rich throne he fand 
 Armida set, with dames and knights around; 
 
 Sullen she sat and sigh'd, it seem'd she scand 
 
 Some weighty matters in her thoughts profound ; 
 
 Her rosy cheek lean'd on her lily hand, 
 
 Her eyes (love's twinkling stars) she hent to ground ; 
 
 AVeep she or no he knows not, yet appears 
 
 Her humid eyes e'en great with child with tears. 
 
 He saw before her set Adrastus grim, 
 
 That seemed scant to live, move, or respire, 
 
 So was he fixed on his mistress trim, 
 So gazed he, and fed his fond desire : 
 
 But Tisiperne beheld now her, now him, 
 
 And quak ? d sometime for love, sometime for ire? 
 
 And in his cheeks the colour went and came, 
 
 For there wrath's fire now burnt, now shone love's flame* 
 
 Then from the garland fair of virgins bright, 
 'Mongst whom he lay inelos'd, rose Altamore; 
 
 His hot desire he hid and kept from sight, 
 His looks were rul'd by Cupid's crafty lore; 
 
 His left eye view'd her hand, her face ; his right 
 Both watch'd her beauty's hid and secret store, 
 
 And entrance found where her thin veil bewray'd 
 
 The milken way between her breasts that laid. 
 LXX. 
 
 Her eyes Armida lift from earth at last, 
 And clear'd again her front and visage sad, 
 
 'Midst clouds of woe, her looks which overcast, 
 She lighten'd forth a smile, sweet, pleasant, glad ? 
 
 My lord, (quoth she,) your oath and promise past, 
 Hath freed my heart of all the griefs it had, 
 
 That now in hope of sweet revenge it lives, 
 
 Such joy, such ease, desired vengeance gives. 
 
218 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Cheer up thy looks, (answer'd the Indian king,) 
 And lor sweet beauty's sake appease thy woe, 
 
 Cast at your feet, ere 3011 expect the thing, 
 I will present the head of thy strong foe; 
 
 Else shall this hand his person captive hring, 
 And cast in prison deep. He hoasted so: 
 
 Hi* rival heard him well, yet answer'd nought, 
 
 But bit his lips, and griev'd in secret thought. 
 
 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 tar 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 hide. 
 
 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 1 fear and this fair Queen. 
 This s;id, to challenge him the King forth leap'd, 
 But up their mistress start and 'twixt them stepp'd. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 Will you thus rob me of that gift (quoth she) 
 
 Which each hath vow'd to give by word and oath? 
 You are my champions, let tiiat title be 
 
 The bond of love and peace between you both; 
 He that displeas'd is, is displeas'd with me, 
 
 For which of you is griev'd, and I not wrof h ? 
 Thus warn'd she them, their hearts (for ire nigh broke) 
 In forced peace and rest thus bore love's yoke. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 All this heard Vafrine as he stood beside, 
 
 And having learn'd the truth, he left the tent. 
 
 That treason was against the Christians' guide 
 Contriv'd, he wist, yet wist not how it went ; 
 
 By words and questions far off he try'd 
 
 To find the truth ; more difficult, more bent 
 
 Was he to know it, and resolv'd to die, 
 
 Or of that secret close th' intent to spy. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Of sly intelligence he prov'd 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, prepar'd for Godfrey's last mishap, 
 
 At ease he found the net, and spy'd the trap. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Thither he turn'd 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 choose 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 vowed is my might. 
 
 So he began, and meant in speeches wise 
 
 Further to wade, but thus he brake the ice. 
 
220 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Therewith he smil'd, 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 know'st of old. - 
 
 To his last trump this drove the subtle spy, 
 But smiling towards her he turn'd him bold : 
 
 Ne'er that 1 wot I saw thee erst with eye, 
 
 Yet for thy worth all eyes should thee behold; 
 
 This much I know right well, for from the same 
 
 W r hich erst you gave me different is my name : 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 My mother bore me near Biserta's wall, 
 Her name was Lesbine, mine is Almansore. 
 
 I knew long since (quoth she) what men thee call, 
 And thine estate, dissemble it no more, 
 
 From me thy friend hide not thyself at all, 
 If I bewray thee let me die therefore ; 
 
 I am Erminia, daughter to a prince, 
 
 But Tancrcd'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 call'd to mind, 
 And mark'd her visage fair. From thee expel 
 
 All fear, (she says,) for me live safe and sure,. 
 
 I will thy safety not thy hariD procure. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 221 
 
 LXXXIIF. 
 
 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 sin;h for sorrow, mourn and weep for pain : 
 
 But if to spy perchance thou here sojourn-, 
 
 Great hap thou hast to know their secrets plain, 
 
 For I their treasons f ilse, false trains can say, 
 
 Which few beside can tell, none will bewray* 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 On her he gaz'd, and silenl 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 jou ^uide, on this conclude we here, 
 
 And further speech till fitter time forbear. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Forthwith (ere thence the camp remove) to ride 
 They were resolv'd, their flight that season fits. 
 
 Vafrine departs ; she to the dames heside 
 
 Returns and there on thorns awhile she sits ; 
 
 Of her new knight she talks, till ime and tide 
 To 'scape unmark'd she finds, then forth she gets, 
 
 Thither where Vafrine her unseen abode, 
 
 There took she horse, and from the camp they rode. 
 
 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; 
 
222 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 These, whether hate or hope of gain them move, 
 Conspired have and fram'd their treason so, 
 
 That day when Emiren by fight shall prove 
 To win lost Asia from his Christian foe ; 
 
 These, with the cross scor'd on their arms above, 
 And arm'd like Frenchmen, will disguised go 
 
 Like Godfrey's guard that gold and white do wear, 
 
 Such shall their habit be, and such their gear; 
 
 LXXXVI1I. 
 
 Yet each will bear a token in his crest, 
 
 That so their friends for Pagans may them know ; 
 
 But in close ti^ht when all the soldiers best 
 Shall mingled be, to give the fatal blow 
 
 They will creep near, and pierce Godfredo's breast, 
 While of his faithful guard they bear false show, 
 
 And all their swords are dipt 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 forc'd me to devise, 
 
 So lhat from yours but small or nought 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 ceas'd and blush'd, and on the main 
 
 Cast down her eyes; these last words scant out-gone, 
 She would havestopt, nor durst pronounce them plain. 
 
 The squire what she conceal'd would know, as one 
 That from her breast her secret thoughts could 
 
 Oflittlefaith(quothhe)whywouldstthouhide[strain. 
 
 Those causes true from me thy squire and guide ? 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 223 
 
 With that she fetch'd a sigh, sad, sore, and deep, 
 
 And from her lips her words slow, trembling came: 
 Fruitless (she said), untimely, hard to keep, 
 
 Vain modesty farewell, and farewell shame; 
 Why hope you, restless love, to bring on sleep? 
 
 Why strive your fires to quench sweet Cupid's flame ? 
 No, no, such cares and such respects beseem 
 Great ladies, wand'ring maids them nought esteem* 
 
 xcir. 
 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. 
 
 [frine, 
 Through fire and sword, through blood and death, Va- 
 
 (Wiiich all my friends did burn, did kill, did chace,) 
 Thou know'st I run to thy dear lord and mine, 
 
 When first he enter'd had my father's place, 
 And kneeling with salt tears in my swollen eyne ; 
 
 Great Prince (quoth I) grant mercy, pity, grace, 
 Save not my kingdom, not my life, I said, 
 But save mine honour, let me die a maid. 
 
 xciv. 
 He lift me by the trembling hand from ground, 
 
 Nor stay'd 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. 
 
224 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 xcv. 
 He visits me ; with speeches kind and grave 
 
 He sought to ease my griefs, and sorrow's smart: 
 He said, I give thee liberty, recave 
 
 All that is thine, and at thy will depart: 
 Alas! he rohh'd me when he thought he gave, 
 
 Free was Erminia, hut captiv'd her heart ; 
 Mine was the hod*, 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 tnee in talk I strove, 
 Thou (by my trembling fit that well could'st guess 
 
 What fever held me) said'st, thou art in love; 
 But I denied, for what can maids do less ? 
 
 And vet 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 np-fold 
 
 My wounds within my bosom, death was chief 
 
 Of all my hopes and helps, till love's sweet flame 
 
 Pluck'd off the bridle of respect and shame, 
 
 And caused me ride to seek my lord and knight, 
 For he that made me sick could make me sound ; 
 
 But on an amiujsh I mischanc'd to light 
 Of cruel men in armour clothed round; 
 
 Hardly I 'scap'd their hands by mature flight, 
 And fled to wilderness and desert ground, 
 
 And there I liv'd in groves and forests wild, 
 
 With gentle grooms and shepherds' daughters mild: 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 But when hot love, which fear had late suppressed, 
 Reviv'd again, there nould I longer sit, 
 
 But rode the way I came, nor ere took rest 
 Till on like danger, like mishap I hit: 
 
 A troop, to forage and to spoil addressed, 
 Encounter' d 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 honour had great care to save, 
 
 And since with fair Armida let me dwell. 
 Thus taken oft, escaped oft I have ; 
 
 Ah ! see what haps I pass'd, 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, wand'ring damsel ! find 
 Some other home, thou shalt not bide with me; 
 
 But let him welcome me with speeches kind, 
 And in ray wonted prison set me free. 
 
 Thus spake the Princess, thus she and her guide 
 
 Talk'd day and night, and on their journey ride. 
 
 cu. 
 
 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 tip-flew; 
 
 With drops of blood besmear' d he found the grass, 
 And saw where lay a warrior murder' d new, 
 
 That all be-bled the ground ; his face to skies 
 
 He turns, and seems to threat though dead he lies : 
 
 VOL. II. Q 
 
226 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 His harness and his habit both bewray'd 
 
 He was a Pagan. Forward went the squire, 
 
 And saw whereas another champion laid 
 
 Dead on the land, all soil'd with blood and mire: 
 
 This was some Christian knight, Vafrino said ; 
 And, marking well his arms and rich attire, 
 
 He loos'd his helm and saw his visage plain, 
 
 And cry 'd Alas ! here lies Taucredie slain! 
 
 civ. 
 
 The woeful virgin tarried and gave heed 
 To the fierce looks of that proud Saracine, 
 
 Till that high cry, full of sad tear and dread, [pine; 
 Pierc'd through her heart with sorrow, grief, and 
 
 At Tancred's name thither she ran with speed, 
 Like one half mad or drunk with too much wine; 
 
 And when she saw his face, pale, bloodless, dead, 
 
 She lighted, nay, she tumbled from her steed : 
 
 cv. 
 
 Her springs of tears she looseth forth, and cries 
 Hither why bring'st thou me, ah fortune blind! 
 
 Where dead, for whom I liv'd, my comfort lies, 
 Where war for peace, travail for rest I find : 
 
 Tancred* I have thee, see thee, yet thine eyes 
 Look not upon thy love and handmaid kind; 
 
 Undo their doors, their lids fast closed sever, 
 
 Alas ! I find thee for to lose thee ever. 
 
 I never thought that to mine eyes (my dear) 
 Thoucould'st 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 ? [sheen? 
 Where are thine eyes' clear beams and sparkles 
 
 Of thy fair cheek where is the purple red, 
 
 And forehead's whiteness 2 are all gone, all dead ? 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 227 
 
 Tho' gone, tho' dead, I Jove thee still ; behold 
 Death wounds but kills not love ; jet if thou live, 
 
 Sweet soul, still in his breast, my follies bold 
 Ah pardon, love's desires and stealth 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 : 
 
 cvm. 
 gentle month ! 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 hap'd to meet, 
 
 They had been giv'n which now are stol'n : vain, 
 O feeble life, betwixt his lips out fly ! 
 O let me kiss thee first, then let me die ! 
 
 cix. 
 
 Receive my yielded spiriUand with thine 
 
 Guide it to heav'n, where all true love hath place. 
 
 This said, she sigh'd and tore her tresses fine, 
 
 And from her eyes two streams pour'd on his face. 
 
 The man, revived with those show'rs divine, 
 Awak'd, and opened his lips a space ; 
 
 His lips were open, but fast shut his eyes, 
 
 And with her sighs one sigh from him up-flies. 
 
 ex. 
 
 The dame perceiv'd that Tancred breath'd and sight, 
 Which calm'd hergriefssomedeal andeas'd her fears: 
 
 Unclose thine eyes, (she says,) my lord and knight, 
 See ray last services, my plaints, and tears; 
 
 See her that dies to see thy woeful plight, 
 That of thy pain her part and portion bears ; 
 
 Once look on me, small is the gift I crave, 
 
 The last which thou can'st give, or 1 can have. 
 
2*28 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 Tanrred look'd up, and clos'd his eyes again, 
 Heavy and dim, and she renew'd her woe. 
 
 Quoth Vafrine Cure him first and then complain, 
 Med'cine is life's chief friend, plaint her worst foe. 
 
 They pluck'd his armour off, and she each vein, 
 Each joint, and sinew felt and handled so, 
 
 And search'd so well each thrust, each cut, and wound, 
 
 That hope of life her love and skill soon found. 
 
 cxn. 
 
 From weariness and loss of blood she spy'd 
 His greatest pains and anguish most proceed, 
 
 Nought 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 ; (0 happy man, so cur'd, so bound !) 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 For why ? her veil was short and thin, those deep 
 And cruel hurts to fasten, roll, and bind ; 
 
 Nor salve nor simple had she ; yet to keep 
 
 Her knight alive strong charms of wond'rous kind 
 
 She said, and from him drove that deadly sleep, 
 That now his eyes he lifted, turned, and twin'd, 
 
 And saw his squire, and saw that courteous dame 
 
 In habit strange, and wonder'd whence she came. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 He said O Vafrine, tell me whence corn'st thou, 
 And who this gentle surgeon is disclose. 
 
 She srniPd, she sigh'd, she look'd she wist not how, 
 She wept, rejoic'd, she blush'd as red as rose: 
 
 You shall know all, (she says ;) your surgeon now 
 Commands your silence, rest, and soft repose, 
 
 You shall be sound, prepare my guerdon meet. 
 
 His head then laid she in her bosom sweet. 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 229 
 
 CXY. 
 
 Vafrinedevis'd this while how he might bear 
 His master home ere night obscur'd the land, 
 
 When, lo ! a troop of soldiers did appear, 
 Whom he descry'd to be Tancredie'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 obey'd ; 
 
 But came to seek him now, so long he stay'd. 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 Besides them, many followed that inquest, 
 But these alone found out the rightest waj. 
 
 Upon their friendly arras the men addrest 
 A seat, whereon he sat, he lean'd, 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 j ust 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 honour him deny, 
 Which after death alonely doth remain.- 
 
 The Pagan dead they lifted up on high, 
 
 And after Tancred bore him through the plain. 
 
 Close by the virgin chaste did Vafrine ride, 
 
 As he that was her squire, her guard, her guide. 
 cxvin. 
 
 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 heav'n perchance may easier make the way | 
 
 And ere I yield to death's and fortune's rage, 
 
 Performed shall be my vow and pilgrimage. 
 
230 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 Thus to the city was Tancredie borne, 
 And fell on sleep, laid on a bed of down. 
 
 Vafrino, where the damsel might sojourn 
 A chamber got, close, secret, near his own. 
 
 That done, he came the mighty Duke beforne, 
 Aod entrance found ; for till his news were known, 
 
 Nought was concluded 'mongst those knights and lords, 
 
 Their counsel hung on his report and words. 
 
 cxx. 
 
 Where weak and weary wounded Raimond laid, 
 Godfrey was set upon his couch's side, 
 
 And round about the man a ring was made 
 
 Of lords and knights, that fill'd the chamber wide: 
 
 There, while the squire his late discov'ry said, 
 To break his talk none answer'd, none reply'd : 
 
 My lord, (he said,) at your command I went, 
 
 And view'd 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 cover'd 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, [dry ; 
 They spoil'd the land, drank floods and fountains 
 
 For not whole Jordanjcouid have giv'n them drink, 
 
 Nor all the grain in Syria bread, 1 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 offshoot 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, th' Immortal Squadron named j 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 231 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 Immortal called is that band of right, 
 For of that number never wanleth 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 Annida 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 Sarrnachand t 
 
 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 shin'd, 
 
 He long'd to be amid those enemies, 
 
 Nor rest nor reason in his heart rould find. 
 
 But to the Duke Vafrine his talk applies : 
 The greatest news, ray lord, are yet behind, 
 
 For all their thoughts, their crafts, and counsels tend, 
 
 By treason false to bring thy life 
 
232 THE RECOVERY BOOK XIX. 
 
 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, 
 
 Ormonde/ s vaunt, what praise, what thankhe sought, 
 
 And what reward ; and satisfy'd ail those 
 
 That would demand, inquire, or ask of aught. 
 
 Silence was made awhile, when Godfrey thus : 
 
 Haimondo say, what counsel giv'st thou us? 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 Not, as we purposed late, next morn (quoth he) 
 Let us not scale, but round besiege this tow'r, 
 
 That those within may have no issue free 
 To sally out and hurt us with their pow'r: 
 
 Our camp well rested and refreshed see, 
 
 Provided well 'gainst this last storm and show'r; 
 
 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 shews thy wisdom and thy love, 
 
 And wh'it you left in doubt shall thus be done; 
 We will their force in pitched battle prove ; 
 
 Clos'd in this wall and trench the fiirht to shun, 
 Doth ill this camp beseem and worse behove; 
 
 But we their strength and manhood will assay 
 
 And try, iu open field and open day : 
 
BOOK XIX. OF JERUSALEM. 233 
 
 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 tow'r 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 call'd them all to rest, 
 
234 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 BOOK XX. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Pagan host arrives, and cruel fight 
 
 Makes with the Christians and their faithful poufr. 31 
 The Soldan longs infield to prove his mighty 
 
 With the old King quits the besieged tow'r: 
 Yet both are slain, and in eternal night 
 
 A famous hand gives each his fatal hour. 
 Rinald appeas'd Armida. First the field 121 
 
 The Christians win } then praise to God they yield. 
 
 THE sun call'd 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 
 Espy'd a sudden mist, that overcast 
 
 The earth with mirksome clouds and darkness deep, 
 And saw it was th' Egyptian camp at last 
 
 Which r.-iis'd the dust, for hills and valleys broad 
 
 That host did overspread and overload. 
 
 n. 
 Therewith a merry shout and joyful cry 
 
 The Pagans rear'd from their besieged hold ; 
 The cranes from Thrace with such a rumour fly, 
 
 His hoary frost and snow when Hvems old 
 Pours down, and fast to wanner regions high, [cold; 
 
 From the sharp winds, fierce storms, and tempests 
 And quick and ready this new hope and aid, 
 Their hands to shoot, their tongues to threaten made. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 235 
 
 From whence their ire, their wrath, and hardy threat 
 Proceeds, the French well knew and plain espy'd, 
 
 For from the walls and ports the army great [pride ; 
 They saw, her strength, her numher, pomp, and 
 
 Swelled their breasts with valours noble heat, 
 Battle and fight they wish'd ; Arm ! arm ! they cry'd : 
 
 The youth to give the sign of fight all pray'd 
 
 Their Duke, and were displeas'd because delay'd 
 
 IV. 
 
 Till morning next, for he refus'd 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 smil'd, and seem'd to wear, 
 Upon her silver crown, sun's golden ray ; 
 
 And, without cloud, heav'n his redoubled light 
 
 Bent dowu to see this field, this fray, this fight. 
 
 VI. 
 
 When first he saw the day break, shew, and shine, 
 Godfrey his host in good array brought out $ 
 
 And to besiege the tyrant Alndine, 
 
 Raimond he left, and all the faithful rout 
 
 That from the towns was come of Palestine 
 To serve and succour their deliv'rer stout; 
 
 And with them left a hardy troop beside 
 
 Of Gascoignes strong, in arms well prot'd, oft try'd. 
 
236 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 Such was Godfredo's countenance, such his cheer, 
 That from his eye sure conquest flames and streams, 
 
 HeavVs gracious favours 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 up tied, 
 His army ready stood the fight to try, 
 
 And to the middle-ward well arm'd he brings 
 
 His footmen strong, his horsemen serv'd for wings. 
 
 IX. 
 
 To the left wing, spread underneath the br.it 
 Of the steep hill that sav'd 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, [wide, 
 Down where the plain was dang'rous, broad, and 
 
 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 arm'd he plac'd, and chosen bands, 
 
 And with those horse some footmen armed light, 
 That archers were (us'd to that service), stands: 
 
 TrT ad venturers then, in battle and in fight 
 
 Well try'd, a squadron famous through all lands, 
 
 On the right hand he set, somedeal aside, 
 
 Rioaldo was their leader, lord, and guide. 
 
BOOK XX. 
 
 OF JERUSALEM. 237 
 
 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, aud charge our troops behind. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then through his host, that took so large a scope, 
 He rode and view'd them all, both horse and foot ; 
 
 His face was bare, his helm unclos'd and ope ; 
 Lighten'd 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 stay'd, whereof his squadrons bold 
 And noblest troops assembled was best part ; 
 
 There from a rising bank his will he told, 
 
 And all that heard his speech thereat took heart; 
 
 And as the molten snow from mountains cold 
 Runs down in streams, with eloquence and art 
 
 So from his lips his words and speeches fell, 
 
 Shrill, speedy, pleasant, sweet, and placed well: 
 
 XIV. 
 
 My hardy host, you conquerors of the east, 
 
 You scourge wherewith Christ whips his heathen 
 
 Of victory behold the latest feast, [fone, 
 
 See the last day for which you wish'd 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 : 
 
238 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 This fight shall bring us many victories; 
 
 The danger none; the labour will be small : 
 Let not the number of your enemies 
 
 Dismay your hearts, grant fear no place at all ; 
 For strife and discord through their army flies, 
 
 Their bands ill rank'd 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 thro*, 
 
 Their banners shake, their bearers shrink; for ill 
 Their leaders heard, obey'd, or follow'd be ; 
 Their loss, their flight, their death, I well foresee : 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Their captain, clad in purple, arm'd in gold, 
 
 That seems so fierce, so hardy, stout, and strong, 
 
 The Moors or weak Arabians vanquish could, 
 Yet can he not resist your valours long ; 
 
 What can he do, tho' wise, tho' sage, tho' bold, 
 In that confusion, trouble, thrust, and throng ? 
 
 Ill known he is, and worse he knows bis host ; 
 
 Strange lords ill fear'd are, ill obey 'd of most : 
 
 xvni. 
 But I am captain of this chosen crew, 
 
 With whom I oft have conquer'd, triumph'd oft; 
 Your lands and lineages long since I knew, 
 
 Each knight obeys ray rule* mild, easy, soft ; 
 I know each sword, each dart, each shaft I view, 
 
 Although the quarry fly in skies aloft; 
 Whether the same of Ireland be or France, 
 And from what bow it comes, what hand perchance : 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 239 
 
 I ask an easy and an usual thing, 
 
 As you have oft, this day so win the field ; 
 
 Let zeal and honour he your virtue's sting; [shield : 
 Your lives, my fame, Christ's faith, defend and 
 
 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 seem'd 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 encompass'd round, 
 
 And (as some thought) foreshew'd he should be crown'd. 
 xxi. 
 
 Perchance (if man's proud thought or saucy tongue 
 Have leave to judge or guess at heav'nly 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 spy'd ; 
 
 Like the new moon his host two horns did spread, 
 In midst the foot, the horse were on each side 5 
 
 The right wing kept he for himself to lead, 
 Great Altamore receiv'd the left to guide; 
 
 The middle-ward led Muleasses proud, 
 
 And in that battaile fair Armida stood. 
 
240 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 On the ri^ht quarter stood the Indian grim, 
 With Tisipherne ami all the King's own band; 
 
 But where 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 cross-hows and his slings he plac'd 
 
 Where room best serv'd 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, [thank. 
 
 What spoil his folk shall gain, what praise, what 
 To him that fear'd Look np, 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 5 
 
 From ravishing my virgins keep, and save 
 Thine ancestors' dead bones and ashes cold ; 
 
 To thee thy fathers' dear and parents' grave 
 Shew their uncover'd heads, white, hoary, old ; 
 
 To thee thy wife, her breasts with tears o'erspread, 
 
 Thy sous their cradles shew, thy marriage bed. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 241 
 
 To all the rest You, for her honour's sake, 
 
 Whom Asia makes her champions, by your might 
 
 Upon these thieves, weak, feeble, few, must take 
 A sharp revenge, yet just, deserv'd, 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 wond'rous 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, colours, gold, and stone, 
 
 'Gainst thesua-beams smil'd, flamed, sparkled, shone: 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Of dry-top'd oaks they seem'd two forests thick, 
 So did each host with spears and pikes abound: 
 
 Bent were their bows, in rests their lances stick, 
 Their hands shook swords, their slings held cobles 
 
 Each steed to run was ready, prest, and quick [round. 
 At his commander's spur, his hand, his sound ; 
 
 He chafes, he stamps, careers, and turns about; [out. 
 
 He foams, suorts, neighs, and fire and smoke breathes 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Horror itself in that fair sight seem'd fair, 
 
 And pleasure flew amid sad dread and fear; 
 The trumpets shrill that thunder'd in the air, 
 
 Were music mild and sweet to every ear; 
 The faithful camp, though less, yet seem'd more rare 
 
 In that strange noise, more warlike, shrill, and clear, 
 In notes more sweet ; the Pagan trumpets jar : 
 These sung, their armours shiii'd; those glister'd far 
 
 VOL. n. R 
 
242 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 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 kiss'd the earth, and then up-leapt 
 
 To fight : the land between was vanished all ; 
 In combat close each host to other stepp'd ; 
 
 For now the wings had skirmish hot begun, 
 
 And with their battles forth the footmen run. 
 
 But who was first of all the Christian train 
 That gave the onset first, first won renown ? 
 
 Gildippes, thou wert she; for, by thee slain, 
 The King of Orms, Hircano, tumbled down ; 
 
 The man's breast-bone thou clov'st and rent in twain, 
 So heav'n with honour would thee bless and crown: 
 
 Pierc'd through he fell, and, falling, heard withali 
 
 His foe prais'd 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 steed divided new 
 In pieces twain, Zopire on earth she laid ; 
 
 And then Alarco's head she swept off* clean, 
 
 "Which like a foot-ball tumbled on the green. 
 
 A blow fell'd 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-mud, the ranks disorder'd, troubled, broke. 
 
HOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 243 
 
 xxxv. 
 
 All these, and many more, by time forgot, 
 
 She slew and wounded; when against her came 
 
 The angry Persians all, cast on a knot, 
 
 For on her person would they purchase fame; 
 
 But her dear spouse and husband wanted not, 
 In so great need, to aid the noble dame: 
 
 Thusjoin'd, 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 wond'rous 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 sav'd 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 Arimonte, 
 
 (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 turn'd his sword or twin'd 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 alive, for whom his blade 
 
 Had spar'd, the same cast in the dusty street 
 
 His horse tore with his teeth, bruis'd with his feet. 
 R 2 
 
244 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 By this brave Persian's valour kill'd and slain 
 Were strong Brunello and Ardonio great ; 
 
 The first his head and heJm had cleft in twain; 
 The last in stranger wise he did entreat, 
 
 For through his heart he pierc'd, and through the vein 
 Where laughter has his fountain and his seat, 
 
 So that (a dreadful thing, believ'd uneath!) 
 
 He laugh'd for pain, and laugh'd 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, Hosimond and Guye. 
 
 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 Therraodonte was never Amazone, 
 
 That manag'd steeled axe or carried shield, 
 
 That seem'd 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 auraaile 
 
 His diadem did on his helmet flame, 
 She broke and cleft the crown, and caus'd him vail 
 
 His proud and lofty top, his crest down came ; 
 Strong seem'd her arm that could so well assail : 
 
 The Pagan shook for spite, and blush'd for shame; 
 Forward he rush'd, and would at once requite 
 Shame, with disgrace; aud with revenge, despite. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 245 
 
 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 twin'd; 
 But her dear knight his love from ground upbore. 
 
 Were it their fortune, or his noble mind, 
 
 He staid his hand, and struck the dame no more: 
 
 A lion so stalks by, and with proud eyes 
 
 Beholds, but scorns to hurt, a man that lies. 
 
 This while Ormondo false, whose cruel hand 
 
 Was arm'd and prest to give the trait'rous blow, 
 
 With all his fellows 'mongst Godfredo's band 
 Enter'd unseen, disguis'd 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 'preached nigh, and to Godfredo's side 
 The bloody Pagan now was placed near; 
 But when his colours gold and white he spy'd, 
 And saw the other signs that forged were- 
 See ! see ! this traitor false, (the Captain cry'd,) 
 
 That like a Frenchman would in show appear; 
 Behold how near his mates and he are crept. 
 This said, upon the villain forth he leap'd : 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 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 turn'd to marble stone. 
 
 All lances broke, unsheath'd 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. 
 
246 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 When Godfrey was with Pagan blood bespread, 
 He enter'd then the fight, arid that was past 
 
 Where the bold Persian fought and combat ted, 
 Where the close ranks he open'd, cleft and brast ; 
 
 Before the knight the troops and squadrons fled, 
 As Afric's dust before the southern blast : 
 
 The Duke recalPd them, in array them plac'd, 
 
 Staid those that fled, and him assail'd that chas'd. 
 
 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 mountain's root, 
 And in both wings) a furious skirmish hold, 
 
 And where the barb'rous Duke in person stood, 
 
 'Twixt Tisiphernes and Adrastus proud. 
 
 XLJX. 
 
 With Emiren, Robert the Norman strove, 
 
 Long time they fought, yet neither lost nor won. 
 
 The other Robert's helm the Indian clove, 
 
 And broke his arms, their fight would soon be done. 
 
 From place to place did Tisiphernes rove, 
 
 And found no match, against him none durst run, 
 
 But where the prease was thickest thither flew 
 
 The knight, and at each stroke fell'd, hurt or slew. 
 L. 
 
 Thus fought they long, yet neither shrink nor yield, 
 In equal balance hung their hope and fear : 
 
 AH full of broken lances lay the field, 
 
 All full of arms that clov'n 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. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 247 
 
 Beside his lord slain lay tlte noble steed ; 
 
 There friend with friend lay kill'd, like lovers true ; 
 There foe with foe, the live under the dead, 
 
 The victor under him whom late he slew. 
 A hoarse un perfect sound did each when? spread, 
 
 Whence neither silence, nor plain outcries flew; 
 There fury roars, ire threats, and woe complains, 
 One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains. 
 
 LI i. 
 
 The arms that late so fair and glorious seem, 
 Now soiPd and slubberd, sad and sullen grow; 
 
 The steel his brightness lost, the gold his beam, 
 The colours had no pride nor beauty's show; 
 
 The plumes and feathers on their crests that stream, 
 Are strewed wide upon the earth below : 
 
 The hosts both clad in blood, in dust and mire, 
 
 Had chang'd 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 purpos'd at the back 
 
 And side their heedless foes t'assail and charge: 
 Slingers and archers were not slow nor slack 
 
 To shoot and cast; when with his battle large 
 Rinaldo came, whose fury, haste, and ire, 
 Seem'd earthquake, thunder, tempest, storm and fire. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 The first he met was Asimire, his throne 
 That set in Meroe's hot sun-burnt land ; 
 
 He cut his neck in twain, flesh, skin and bone, 
 The sable head down tumbled on the sand : 
 
 But when by death of this black Prince alone 
 The tasle of blood and conquest once he fand, 
 
 Whole squadrons then,whole troops toearthhe brought, 
 
 Things wond'rous, strange, incredible, he wrought; 
 
248 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX, 
 
 He gave more deaths than strokes, and yet his blows 
 Upon his feehle 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 Arahian 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, drown'd each in others Mood ; 
 Upon their people ran the knights he brings, 
 
 Prick'd forward by their guide's ensample good, 
 KilTd 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. 
 
 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 chace, 
 
 Their ranks disordered be with too much fear: 
 
 Rinaldo folio w'd them from place to place, 
 Till quite discomfit and dispers'd they were; 
 
 That done, he stays, and all his knights recalls, 
 
 And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls. 
 
 Like as the wind, stopp'd by some wood or hill, [twain; 
 
 Grows strobg and fierce, tears boughs and trees in 
 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, 
 Assuag'd his fury, calra'd his angry mood ; 
 
LOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 249 
 
 He scorn'd 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 Africanes, that should have succoured 
 That batt.iile, all were run away or slain ; 
 
 Upon their flank with force and courage stout 
 
 His men at arms assail'd the bands on toot: 
 
 He brake their pikes, and brake their close array, 
 Enter'd their battaile, fell'd them down around: 
 
 So wind or tempest with impetuous sway 
 
 The ears of ripen'd corn strikes flat to ground : 
 
 With blood, arms, bodies dead, the harden'd clay 
 Plaster' d the earth, no grass nor green was found ; 
 
 The horsemen running thro' and thro' their bands, 
 
 Kill, murder, slay; few 'scape, not one withstands. 
 LXI. 
 
 Binaldo came where his forlorn Armide 
 Sat in 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 spy'd; 
 Love, hate, wrath, sweet desire, strove in her eye. 
 
 He chang'd some deal his look and count'nance hold; 
 
 She chang'd from frost to fire, from heat to cold. 
 
 The Prince past by the chariot of his dear, 
 
 Lke one that did his thoughts elsewhere bestow, 
 
 Yet suffer'd not her knights and lovers near 
 Their rival so to 'scape withouten blow : 
 
 One drew his sword, nnother couchM his spear; 
 Herself an arrow sharp set in her bow, 
 
 Disdain her ire new sharp'd and kindled hath, 
 
 But love appeas'd her, love assuag'd her wrath : 
 
250 THE RECOVERY JBOOK XX. 
 
 Love bridled fury, and reviv'd of new 
 
 Hi.s fire, not dead, though buried in displeasure; 
 
 Three times her angry baud the bow up drew, 
 And thrice again let slack the string at leisure; 
 
 But wrath prevailed at last, the reed out flew, 
 
 For love finds mean, but haired knows no measure; 
 
 Out flew the shaft, but with the shaft this charm, 
 
 This wish she sent Heav'ns graut 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 ; 
 
 Wh;it 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 miss'd or hit; 
 Her eyes, her heart, her wishes follow'd it. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 But yet in vain the quarry lighted not, 
 For on his hawberk hard the knight it hit, 
 
 Too hard tor woman's shaft or woman's shot, 
 Instead of piercing 1 there it broke and split. 
 
 He turn'd away; she burnt with fury hot, 
 
 And thought he scorn'd 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. 
 
 iLXVI. 
 
 And is he then unpierceable, (quoth she,) 
 That neither force nor foe he needs regard ? 
 
 His 1 1 m Us (perchance) arm'd with that hardness be, 
 Which makes his heart so cruel and so hard ; 
 
 No shot that flies from eye or hand I see 
 
 Hurts him, such rigour doth his person guard; 
 
 Arm'd or disarrn'd, his toe or mistress kind, 
 
 Despis'd alike, like hate, like scorn I find. 
 
JiOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 251 
 
 But what new form is left, device, or art, 
 
 By which, to which exchang'd, 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, 
 AH strength is weak, all courage vile and hase 
 
 This said she, for she saw how, through the field, 
 
 Her champions fly, faint, tremble, fail and yield* 
 JLXVIII. 
 
 Nor left alone can she her person save, 
 But to be slain or taken stands in fear, 
 
 Though with her bow a javelin long she have, 
 Yet weak was Phosbe's bow, blunt Pallas' spear. 
 
 But as the swan, that sees the eagle brave 
 
 Threat'ning 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 destroy'*! to nought, 
 
 Whilst he alone maintain'd the fight and fray, 
 Seeing distress'd the goddess of his thought, 
 
 To aid her ran, nay flew, and laid away 
 All care both of his honour and his host, 
 If she were safe let all the world be lost. 
 
 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 murder'd are. 
 
 He saw their loss, but aided not his crew, 
 A better lover than a leader far. 
 
 He set Armifla safe, then lurn'd again 
 
 With tardy succour, for his folk were slain; 
 
252 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 And on that side the woeful Prince beheld 
 The battle lost, no help nor hope remain'd. 
 
 But on the other wing the Christians yield, 
 
 And fly, such 'vantage there the Egyptians gain'd : 
 
 One of the Roberts was nigh slain in field ; 
 The other by the Indian strong constrain'd 
 
 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 order'd, rang'd and knit, 
 RenewM 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 nnresolvM and doubtful, on each side, 
 
 Did praise and conquest, Mars and Fortune ride. 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Between the armies twain while thus the fight 
 
 Wax'd sharp, hot, cruel, though renewed but late. 
 
 The Soldan climird up to the tower's height, 
 And saw far off their strife and fell debate; 
 
 As from some stage or theatre, the knight 
 Saw play'd 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 astonish'd and amaz'd 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 dond his helmet good, 
 
 His other arms he had before en tire- 
 Up, up, (be cried,) no more, no more within 
 This fortress stay 5 come follow, die or win. 
 
BOOK XX. Of JERUSALEM. 253 
 
 Whether the some were Providence Divine 
 Thit made him leave the fortress he possess'd, 
 
 For that the empire proud of Palestine 
 
 This day should fall, to rise again more bless'd ; 
 
 Or that he breaking felt the fatal line 
 
 Of life, aad would meet death with constant breast; 
 
 Furious and fierce he did the gates unbar, 
 
 And sudden rage brought forth and sudden war; 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Nor staid he till the folk on whom he cry'd 
 Assemble might, but out alone he flies, 
 
 A thousand foes the man alone defy'd, 
 And ran among a thousand enemies ; 
 
 But with his fury call'd from every side, 
 The rest ran out, and Aladine forth hies; 
 
 The cowards had no fear, the wise no care ; 
 
 This was riot 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 murd'ring them he made such haste. 
 That dead they fell ere one could see them slain. 
 
 From mouth to mouth, from eye to eye, forth past 
 The fear and terror, that the faithful train 
 
 Of Syrian folk, not us'd to dang'rous fight, 
 
 Were broken, scattered, and nigh put to flight. 
 
 LXXVIJI. 
 
 But with less terror and disorder less, 
 
 The Gascoignes kept array, arid kept their ground, 
 Though most the loss and peril them oppress, 
 
 Unwares assail'd they were, unready found: 
 No rav'ning 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 kiil'd knights and soldiers tall; 
 
254 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 It seem'd his thirst and hunger 'suage he would 
 With their slain bodies and their blood pour'd out. 
 
 "With him his troops and Aladino old 
 
 Slew the besiegers, kilPd the Gascoigne rout. 
 
 But Raimond ran to meet the Soldan hold, 
 Nor to encounter him hnd 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 Raimond fell amid the field, 
 This blow again upon his forehead light; 
 
 It was the fault and weakness of his eild, 
 Age is not fit to hear strokes of such might. 
 
 Each one lift up his sword, advanc'd his shield, 
 Those would destroy, and these defend the knight. 
 
 On went the Soldan, for the man he thought 
 
 Was slain, or eas'ly might be captive brought. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 Among the rest he ran, he rag'd, he smote, 
 
 And in small space, small time, great wonders 
 
 And as his rage him led and fury hote [wrought; 
 To kill and murder, matter new he sought. 
 
 As from his supper poor, with hungry throat, 
 A peasant hastes to a rich feast y brought, 
 
 So from this skirmish to the battle great 
 
 He ran, and queiich'd with blood his fury's heat. 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Where batter' d 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 scatter'd 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 : 
 
DOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 255 
 
 The Gascoigne bands retir'd, hut kept array, 
 
 The Syrian people ran away outright. 
 The fight was near the place win-re Tailored lay, 
 
 His house was full of noise and great affright ; 
 He rose and looked forth to see the fray, 
 
 Though every limh was weak, faint, void of might? 
 He saw the County lie, his men o'erthrown, 
 Some beaten back, some kill" d, some felled down. 
 
 J.XXXIV. 
 
 Courage in noble hearts that ne'er is spent, 
 Yet fainted not, though faint were every limb, 
 
 But re-enforc'd each member cleft and rent, 
 
 And want of blood and strength supplied in him: 
 
 In his left hand his heavy shield he hent, 
 
 Nor seem'd the weight too great, his curtlax trim 
 
 His right hand drew, nor for more arms he stood 
 
 Or staid, he needs no more whose heart is good ; 
 txxxv. 
 
 But coming forth, cried Whither will you run, 
 And leave your leader to his foes in prey ? 
 
 What! shall these heathen of his armour won, 
 In their vile temples hang up trophies gay ? 
 
 Co home to Gascoigne then, and tell his son 
 That where his father died you ran away. 
 
 This said, against a thousand armed foes 
 
 He did his breast, weak, naked, sick, oppose ; 
 
 JLXXXVI. 
 
 And with his heavy, strong, and mighty targe 
 
 (That with sev'n hard bulls' hides was surely lin'd, 
 
 And strengthen'd with a cover thick and large 
 Of stiff and well-attemper'd steel behind) 
 
 He shielded Raimond from the furious charge, 
 
 From swords, from darts, from weapons of each kind, 
 
 And all his foes drove back with his sharp blade, 
 
 That sure and safe be lay as in a shade. 
 
256 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 Thus sav'd, thus shielded, Raiwond 'gan respire; 
 
 He rose and rear'd himself in little space, 
 And in his bosom burnt the double fire [face : 
 
 Of vengeance ; wrath his heart, shame fill'd hii 
 He look'd 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 revengemeut takes. 
 
 LXXXVI1I. 
 
 The Gascoignes turn again; their Lord in haste 
 To 'venge their loss his hand re-order'd brings ; 
 
 The troop lhat durst so much now stood aghast, 
 For where sad fear grew late now boldness springs : 
 
 Now folio w'd they that fled; fled they that chas'd; 
 So in one hour alt'reth the state of things: 
 
 K li "on I requites his loss, sh.une, hurt and all, 
 
 And with an hundred deaths reveng'd one fall. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Whilst Raimond 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 murder'd thus, the other gone, 
 The troops divided were in divers thought; 
 
 Despair made some run headlong 'gainst their fone, 
 To seek sharp death, that comes uncail'd, unsought ; 
 
 And some (that laid their hope on flight alone) 
 Fled to their fort again ; yet chance so wrought, 
 
 That with the fliers in the victors pass, 
 
 And so the fortress woo and conquered was. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 257 
 
 XCI. 
 
 The hold was won, slain were the men that fled, 
 
 In courts, halls, chambers high, above, below. 
 Old Raimond fast up to the leads him sped, 
 
 And there, of victory true sign and show, 
 His glorious standard to the wind he spread, 
 
 That so both armies his success might know. 
 But Soliman saw not the town was lost, 
 For far from thence he was. and near the host : 
 
 xcn. 
 Into the field he came : the luke-warm 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 bield. 
 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. 
 
 XCIH. 
 
 Great, yet but short and sudden, was the aid 
 That to the Pagans, faint and weak, he brought; 
 
 A thunderbolt he was you would have said ; 
 
 Great, yet that comes and goes as swift as thought. 
 
 And of his coming swift, and flight unstaid, 
 Eternal signs in hardest rocks hath wrought ; 
 
 For by his hand an 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 woeful fate, 
 
 (If so much pow'r 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. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 The noble lady thither boldly flew, 
 
 Where the fierce Soldan fought, and him defy'd ; 
 Two mighty blows she gave the Turk untrue, 
 
 One cleft his shield, the other piere'd his side. 
 The Prince the damsel by her habit knew : 
 
 See, see this mankind strumpet ! see (he cry'd) 
 This shameless whore ! for thee fit weapons were 
 Thy neeJd 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 pierc'd her armour, pierc'd 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. 
 xcvu. 
 
 What should he do ? to divers parts him call 
 Just ire and pity kind ; one bids him go 
 
 And succour 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 pow'r 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 j 
 
 He let her fail, himself fell by her side ; 
 
 And, for he could not save her, with her died. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 59 
 
 As the high elm, (whom his dear vine hath twin'd 
 Fast in her hundred arms and holds embrac'd,) 
 
 Bears down to earth his spouse and darling kind, 
 If storm or cruel steel the tree down cast, 
 
 And her full grapes to nought doth bruise and grind, 
 Spoils his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last; 
 
 And seems to mourn and die, not for his own 
 
 But for her death, with him that lies o'erthrown : 
 
 c. 
 
 So fell he mourning, mourning for the dame 
 Whom life and death had made for ever his ; 
 
 They would have spoke, but notone word could frame, 
 Deep sobs their speech, sweet sighs their language is; 
 
 Each gaz'd 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, [fall ; 
 
 And told each where their chance, their fate, their 
 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. 
 
 en. 
 
 The giant cry'd By sundry signs I note, 
 
 That whom T wish, I search, thou, thou art he; 
 
 1 mark'd each worthy's shield, his helm, his coat, 
 And all this day have call'd and cry'd 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. 
 s 2 
 
260 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 Thus he defy'd 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 tails a thunder' d tower. 
 
 civ. 
 
 With horror, fear, amazedness, and dread, 
 Cold were the hearts of all that saw the fray ; 
 
 And Soliman (that view'd that noble deed) 
 Trembled ; his paleness did his fear bewray; 
 
 For in that stroke he did his end aread, 
 He wist not what to think, to do, to say; 
 
 A thing in him unused, rare, and strange; 
 
 But so doth heav'o men's hearts turn, alter, change 
 
 CT. 
 
 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 quench'd that fire; 
 And in his heart an hundred passions fought, 
 Yet not OD fear or base retire he thought. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 261 
 
 While unresolv'd he stood, the victor knight 
 
 Arriv'd, and seem'd 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 dread ; 
 
 He fled no strokes, he fetch'd no groan nor sigh, 
 
 Bold were his molions last, proud, stai 
 
 in nor sign, 
 tely, high. 
 
 Now when the Soldan (in those battles past, 
 That Antceus-like oft fell, oft rose again, 
 
 Ever more fierce, more fell) fell down at last 
 To lie for ever, when this Prince was slain 5 
 
 Fortune, that seld is stable, firm, or fast, 
 No longer durst resist the Christian train, 
 
 But rang'd 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 flow'r, 
 
 Late call'd Immortal, now discomfited, 
 It lost that title proud, and lost all pow'r. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 ex. 
 
 This ensign, Rimedon, T gave not thee 
 To be the witness of thy fear and flight; 
 
 Coward ! dost thou thy lord and captain see 
 In battle strong, and run'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 honour, way to safety is. 
 
THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 The man returned, and swell'd with scorn and shame : 
 The Duke with speeches grave exhorts the rest; 
 
 He threats, be strikes sometime, till back they came, 
 And rage 'gainst force, despair 'gainst death ad- 
 
 Thus of his broken armies 'gan he frame [dress'd. 
 A battle new, some hope dwelt in his breast ; 
 
 But Tisiphernes bold reviv'd him most, 
 
 Who fought and seem'd 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, Kogero, Gerard bold he slew ; 
 
 His glorious deeds to praise and fame eterne, 
 
 His life's short date prolonged, enlarg'd, and drew; 
 
 And then, as he that set sweet life at nought, 
 
 The greatest peril, danger most he sought. 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 He spy'd 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, heav'ns yield 
 Strength to my courage, fortune to my blows, 
 
 That fair Armida her revenge may see ; 
 
 Help, Macon I for his arms I vow to thee. 
 
 cxiv. 
 
 Thus prayed he, but all his vows were vain, 
 Macon was deaf, or slept in heaven above; 
 
 And as a lion strikes him with his train 
 His native wrath to quicken and to move, 
 
 So he awak'd his fury and disdain 
 
 And sharp'd his courage on the whetstone love ; 
 
 Himself he sav'd behind his mighty targe, 
 
 And forward spurr'd his steed, and gave the charge* 
 
UOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 263 
 
 The Christian saw the hardy warrior come, 
 And leaped forth to undertake the fight ; 
 
 The people round ahout gave place and room, 
 
 And wonder'd ou that fierce and cruel sight : [some, 
 
 Some prais'd their strength, their skill and courage 
 Such and so desp'rate hlows struck either knight, 
 
 That all that saw forgot hoth 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 Tisipherne the blood stream'd down around, 
 His shield was cleft, his helm was rent and tore. 
 
 The dame (that saw his blood besmear the ground, 
 His armour broke, limbs weak, wounds deep and 
 
 And all her guard dead, fled, and overthrown) [sore, 
 
 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, 
 AH hope of conquest and revenge was gone; 
 
 Half-mad and half-amaz'd, from where she sat 
 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 honour go, 
 Follow'd her flying sails, and lost the day 5 
 
 So Tisipherne the fair and fearful darae 
 
 Would follow, but his foe forbids the same. 
 
264 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX, 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 But when the Pagan's joy and comfort fled, 
 It seem'd the sun was set, the day was night ; 
 
 'Gainst the brave Prince with whom he combatted 
 He turn'd, and on the forehead struck the knight: 
 
 When thunders forged are in Typhon's bed, 
 Not Bronte's hammer falls so swift, so right; 
 
 The furious stroke fell on Rinaldo's crest, 
 
 And made him bend his head down to his breast. 
 
 The champion in his stirrups high up-start, 
 And cleft his hawberk hard and tender side, 
 
 And sheath'd 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 unclos'o and open'd wide ; 
 
 And two large doors made for his life and breath, 
 
 Which pass'd, and cur'd hot love with frozen death. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 This done, Rinaldo staid and look'd 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 rancour ends. 
 
 He call'd to mind how, far from help or aid, 
 
 Armida fled, alone, amaz'd, afraid : 
 
 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 a-right, 
 Her palfrey's feet signs in the grass out ware : 
 
 But she this while found out an ugly shade, 
 
 Fit place for death, where nought could life persuade. 
 
BOOK XX. ttF JERUSALEM. 263 
 
 Well pleased was she with those shadows brown, 
 And yet displeas'd 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,) disgrac'd, overthrown, 
 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* 
 
 CX XV. 
 
 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 plac'd in these thy good and comfort be ! 
 But since all hope is vain, all help is waste, [thee : 
 
 Since hurts ease hurts, wounds must cure wounds in 
 Then with thine arrow's stroke cure strokes 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 for ever dwell; 
 
 Or else with it turn to the world again, 
 
 And vex that knight with dreams and visions fell; 
 
 And tell him, when 'twixt life and death I strove, 
 
 My last wish was revenge, last word was love. 
 
266 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 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 iier eyes, death in her look ; 
 When to her back he stepp'd, and staid her arm, 
 Stretch'd forth to do that service last, last harm. 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 She turns, and, ere she knows, her lord she spies, 
 Whose coming was unwish'd, unthonght, unknowns 
 
 She shrieks, and twines away her 'sdeignful eyes 
 From his sweet face; she falls dead in a swoon 5 
 
 Falls as a flow'r half cut that bending lies : 
 He held her up, and, lest she tumble down, 
 
 Under her tender side his arm he piac'd, 
 
 His hand her girdle loos'd, her gown unlac'd ; 
 
 cxxix. 
 And her fair face> fair bosom, he bedews 
 
 With tears, tears of remorse, of ruth, of sorrow. 
 As the pale rose her colour lost renews 
 
 With the fresh drops fall'n from the silver morrow, 
 So she revives, and cheeks empurpled shews, [borrow: 
 
 Moist with their own tears, and with tears they 
 Thrice look'd 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, loos'd, and untwin'd : 
 
 Oft strove she, but in vain, to break that band, 
 For he the hold he got not yet resign'd ; 
 
 Herself fast bound in those dear knots she fand, 
 Dear, though she feigned scorn, strove, and repin'd, 
 
 At last she speaks, she weeps, complains, and cries, 
 
 Yet durst not, did not, would not see his eyes : 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 267 
 
 Cruel at thy departure, at return 
 
 As cruel! say, what chance thee hither guideth; 
 Wouldst thou prevent her death, whose heart forlorn 
 
 For thee, for thee death's strokes each hour divid- 
 Com'st thou to save my life ? alas ! what scorn, [eth ? 
 
 What torment for Armida poor abideth ! 
 No, no ; thy crafts and sleights I well descry, 
 But she can little do that cannot die. 
 
 Thy triumph is not great, nor well array'd, 
 Unless in chains thou lead a captive dame; 
 
 A dame now ta'en by force, before betray'd, 
 This is thy greatest glory, greatest fame : 
 
 Time was that thee of love and life I pray'd, 
 
 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 j 
 
 If weapons sharp, if poisons of all kind, 
 If fire, if strangling fail in that estate, 
 
 Yet ways enough 1 know to stop this wind, 
 A thousand entries hath the house of fate. 
 
 Ah, leave these flatt'ries ! leave weak hope to move; 
 
 Cease, cease! ray hope is dead, dead is my love. 
 
 CXXXIV. 
 
 Thus mourned she, and from her watery eyes 
 Disdain and love dropt down, roll'd 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 crown'd, not scorn'd, your life I save : 
 
 Your foe nay, but your friend, your knight, your slave, 
 
268 THE RECOVERY BOOK XX. 
 
 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 heav'n 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 
 
 Snow drifts consume 011 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 prov'd her treasure. 
 
 CXXXVII. 
 
 This while the captain of th' Egyptian host, 
 That saw his royal standard laid on ground, 
 
 Saw Rimedon, that ensign's prop and post, 
 
 By Godfrey's noble hand kilPd with one wound, 
 
 And ail 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 wish'd not, could not spy ; 
 
 Of desp 1 rate courage shew'd betokens true, 
 Where'er he join'd, or staid, or passed by; 
 
 And cried to the Duke as near he drew 
 Behold of thy strong hand 1 come to die, 
 
 Yet trust to overthrow thee with my fall, 
 
 My castle's ruiu shall break down thy wall. 
 
BOOK XX. OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 This said, forth spurr'd 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 pierc'd, his vauntbrace cleft and split ; 
 
 The Pagan backward fell, half in a trance, 
 On his left ear his foe so hugely sinit ; 
 
 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 turn'd his steed, 
 
 Great Altamore on foot, with blood all stained, 
 
 With half a sword, half helm upon his head, [gained : 
 'Gainst whom an hundred fought, yet not one 
 
 Cease, cease this strife, he cry'd; 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 renown'd to ^Ethiop's end, 
 Answer'd 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; 
 
 AH 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 figbt, and sell not war for gold or good. 
 
270 THE RECOVERY, &C. BOOK XX. 
 
 This said, he gave him to his knights to keep, 
 And after those that fled his course he bent; 
 
 They to their rarnpires 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 soiPd, defiPd, defaced all the prey, 
 
 Shields, helmets, armours, plumes, and feathers gay. 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 Thus conquer'd Godfrey ; and as yet the sun 
 Div'd not in silver waves his golden wain. 
 
 But day-light serv'd 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 pray'd, and there performed his vows. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Knight A Son, Primers, 
 Windsor. 
 

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