Part 65

CVII “Though gone, though dead, I love thee still, behold; Death wounds, but kills not love; yet if thou live, Sweet soul, still in his breast, my follies bold Ah, pardon love’s desires, and stealths forgive; Grant me from his pale mouth some kisses cold, Since death doth love of just reward deprive; And of thy spoils sad death afford me this, Let me his mouth, pale, cold and bloodless, kiss;

CVIII “O gentle mouth! with speeches kind and sweet Thou didst relieve my grief, my woe and pain, Ere my weak soul from this frail body fleet, Ah, comfort me with one dear kiss or twain! Perchance if we alive had happed to meet, They had been given which now are stolen, O vain, O feeble life, betwixt his lips out fly, Oh, let me kiss thee first, then let me die!

CIX “Receive my yielding spirit, and with thine Guide it to heaven, where all true love hath place:” This said, she sighed, and tore her tresses fine, And from her eyes two streams poured on his face, The man revived, with those showers divine Awaked, and opened his lips a space; His lips were open; but fast shut his eyes, And with her sighs, one sigh from him upflies.

CX The dame perceived that Tancred breathed and sighed, Which calmed her grief somedeal and eased her fears: “Unclose thine eyes,” she says, “my lord and knight, See my last services, my plaints and tears, See her that dies to see thy woful plight, That of thy pain her part and portion bears; Once look on me, small is the gift I crave, The last which thou canst give, or I can have.”

CXI Tancred looked up, and closed his eyes again, Heavy and dim, and she renewed her woe. Quoth Vafrine, “Cure him first, and then complain, Medicine is life’s chief friend; plaint her most foe:” They plucked his armor off, and she each vein, Each joint, and sinew felt, and handled so, And searched so well each thrust, each cut and wound, That hope of life her love and skill soon found.

CXII From weariness and loss of blood she spied His greatest pains and anguish most proceed, Naught but her veil amid those deserts wide She had to bind his wounds, in so great need, But love could other bands, though strange, provide, And pity wept for joy to see that deed, For with her amber locks cut off, each wound She tied: O happy man, so cured so bound!

CXIII For why her veil was short and thin, those deep And cruel hurts to fasten, roll and blind, Nor salve nor simple had she, yet to keep Her knight on live, strong charms of wondrous kind She said, and from him drove that deadly sleep, That now his eyes he lifted, turned and twined, And saw his squire, and saw that courteous dame In habit strange, and wondered whence she came.

CXIV He said, “O Vafrine, tell me, whence com’st thou? And who this gentle surgeon is, disclose;” She smiled, she sighed, she looked she wist not how, She wept, rejoiced, she blushed as red as rose. “You shall know all,” she says, “your surgeon now Commands you silence, rest and soft repose, You shall be sound, prepare my guerdon meet,” His head then laid she in her bosom sweet.

CXV Vafrine devised this while how he might bear His master home, ere night obscured the land, When lo, a troop of soldiers did appear, Whom he descried to be Tancredi’s band, With him when he and Argant met they were; But when they went to combat hand for hand, He bade them stay behind, and they obeyed, But came to seek him now, so long he stayed.

CXVI Besides them, many followed that enquest, But these alone found out the rightest way, Upon their friendly arms the men addressed A seat whereon he sat, he leaned, he lay: Quoth Tancred, “Shall the strong Circassian rest In this broad field, for wolves and crows a prey? Ah no, defraud not you that champion brave Of his just praise, of his due tomb and grave:

CXVII “With his dead bones no longer war have I, Boldly he died and nobly was he slain, Then let us not that honor him deny Which after death alonely doth remain:” The Pagan dead they lifted up on high, And after Tancred bore him through the plain. Close by the virgin chaste did Vafrine ride, As he that was her squire, her guard, her guide.

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

CXIX Thus to the city was Tancredi borne, And fell on sleep, laid on a bed of down. Vafrino where the damsel might sojourn A chamber got, close, secret, near his own; That done he came the mighty duke beforn, And entrance found, for till his news were known, Naught was concluded mongst those knights and lords, Their counsel hung on his report and words.

CXX Where weak and weary wounded Raymond laid, Godfrey was set upon his couch’s side, And round about the man a ring was made Of lords and knights that filled the chamber wide; There while the squire his late discovery said, To break his talk, none answered, none replied, “My lord,” he said, “at your command I went And viewed their camp, each cabin, booth and tent;

CXXI “But of that mighty host the number true Expect not that I can or should descry, All covered with their armies might you view The fields, the plains, the dales and mountains high, I saw what way soe’er they went and drew, They spoiled the land, drunk floods and fountains dry, For not whole Jordan could have given them drink, Nor all the grain in Syria, bread, I think.

CXXII “But yet amongst them many bands are found Both horse and foot, of little force and might, That keep no order, know no trumpet’s sound, That draw no sword, but far off shoot and fight, But yet the Persian army doth abound With many a footman strong and hardy knight, So doth the King’s own troop which all is framed Of soldiers old, the Immortal Squadron named.

CXXIII “Immortal called is that band of right, For of that number never wanteth one, But in his empty place some other knight Steps in, when any man is dead or gone: This army’s leader Emireno hight, Like whom in wit and strength are few or none, Who hath in charge in plain and pitched field, To fight with you, to make you fly or yield.

CXXIV “And well I know their army and their host Within a day or two will here arrive: But thee Rinaldo it behoveth most To keep thy noble head, for which they strive, For all the chief in arms or courage boast They will the same to Queen Armida give, And for the same she gives herself in price, Such hire will many hands to work entice.

CXXV “The chief of these that have thy murder sworn, Is Altamore, the king of Samarcand! Adrastus then, whose realm lies near the morn, A hardy giant, bold, and strong of hand, This king upon an elephant is borne, For under him no horse can stir or stand; The third is Tisipherne, as brave a lord As ever put on helm or girt on sword.”

CXXVI This said, from young Rinaldo’s angry eyes, Flew sparks of wrath, flames in his visage shined, He longed to be amid those enemies, Nor rest nor reason in his heart could find. But to the Duke Vafrine his talk applies, “The greatest news, my lord, are yet behind, For all their thoughts, their crafts and counsels tend By treason false to bring thy life to end.”

CXXVII Then all from point to point he gan expose The false compact, how it was made and wrought, The arms and ensigns feigned, poison close, Ormondo’s vaunt, what praise, what thank he sought, And what reward, and satisfied all those That would demand, inquire, or ask of aught. Silence was made awhile, when Godfrey thus,— “Raymondo, say, what counsel givest thou us?”

CXXVIII “Not as we purposed late, next morn,” quoth he, “Let us not scale, but round besiege this tower, That those within may have no issue free To sally out, and hurt us with their power, Our camp well rested and refreshed see, Provided well gainst this last storm and shower, And then in pitched field, fight, if you will; If not, delay and keep this fortress still.

CXXIX “But lest you be endangered, hurt, or slain, Of all your cares take care yourself to save, By you this camp doth live, doth win, doth reign, Who else can rule or guide these squadrons brave? And for the traitors shall be noted plain, Command your guard to change the arms they have, So shall their guile be known, in their own net So shall they fall, caught in the snare they set.”

CXXX “As it hath ever,” thus the Duke begun, “Thy counsel shows thy wisdom and thy love, And what you left in doubt shall thus be done, We will their force in pitched battle prove; Closed in this wall and trench, the fight to shun, Doth ill this camp beseem, and worse behove, But we their strength and manhood will assay, And try, in open field and open day.

CXXXI “The fame of our great conquests to sustain, Or bide our looks and threats, they are not able, And when this army is subdued and slain Then is our empire settled, firm and stable, The tower shall yield, or but resist in vain, For fear her anchor is, despair her cable.” Thus he concludes, and rolling down the west Fast set the stars, and called them all to rest.

TWENTIETH BOOK

THE ARGUMENT. The Pagan host arrives, and cruel fight Makes with the Christians and their faithful power; The Soldan longs in field to prove his might, With the old king quits the besieged tower; Yet both are slain, and in eternal night A famous hand gives each his fatal hour; Rinald appeased Armida; first the field The Christians win, then praise to God they yield.

I The sun called up the world from idle sleep, And of the day ten hours were gone and past When the bold troop that had the tower to keep Espied a sudden mist, that overcast The earth with mirksome clouds and darkness deep, And saw it was the Egyptian camp at last Which raised the dust, for hills and valleys broad That host did overspread and overload.