Part 67

XXX Horror itself in that fair sight seemed fair, And pleasure flew amid sad dread and fear; The trumpets shrill, that thundered in the air, Were music mild and sweet to every ear: The faithful camp, though less, yet seemed more rare In that strange noise, more warlike, shrill and clear, In notes more sweet, the Pagan trumpets jar, These sung, their armors shined, these glistered far.

XXXI The Christian trumpets give the deadly call, The Pagans answer, and the fight accept; The godly Frenchmen on their knees down fall To pray, and kissed the earth, and then up leapt To fight, the land between was vanished all, In combat close each host to other stepped; For now the wings had skirmish hot begun, And with their battles forth the footmen run.

XXXII But who was first of all the Christian train, That gave the onset first, first won renown? Gildippes thou wert she, for by thee slain The King of Orms, Hircano, tumbled down, The man’s breastbone thou clov’st and rent in twain, So Heaven with honor would thee bless and crown, Pierced through he fell, and falling hard withal His foe praised for her strength and for his fall.

XXXIII Her lance thus broke, the hardy dame forth drew With her strong hand a fine and trenchant blade, And gainst the Persians fierce and bold she flew, And in their troop wide streets and lanes she made, Even in the girdling-stead divided new In pieces twain, Zopire on earth she laid; And then Alarco’s head she swept off clean, Which like a football tumbled on the green.

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

XXXV All these, and many mo, by time forgot, She slew and wounded, when against her came The angry Persians all, cast on a knot, For on her person would they purchase fame: But her dear spouse and husband wanted not In so great need, to aid the noble dame; Thus joined, the haps of war unhurt they prove, Their strength was double, double was their love.

XXXVI The noble lovers use well might you see, A wondrous guise, till then unseen, unheard, To save themselves forgot both he and she, Each other’s life did keep, defend, and guard; The strokes that gainst her lord discharged be, The dame had care to bear, to break, to ward, His shield kept off the blows bent on his dear, Which, if need be, his naked head should bear.

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

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

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

XL Nor these alone with that accursed knife, Of this sweet light and breath deprived lie; But with that cruel weapon lost their life Gentonio, Guascar, Rosimond, and Guy; Who knows how many in that fatal strife He slew? what knights his courser fierce made die? The names and countries of the people slain Who tells? their wounds and deaths who can explain?

XLI With this fierce king encounter durst not one. Not one durst combat him in equal field, Gildippes undertook that task alone; No doubt could make her shrink, no danger yield, By Thermodont was never Amazone, Who managed steeled axe, or carried shield, That seemed so bold as she, so strong, so light, When forth she run to meet that dreadful knight.

XLII She hit him, where with gold and rich anmail, His diadem did on his helmet flame, She broke and cleft the crown, and caused him veil His proud and lofty top, his crest down came, Strong seemed her arm that could so well assail: The Pagan shook for spite and blushed for shame, Forward he rushed, and would at once requite Shame with disgrace, and with revenge despite.

XLIII Right on the front he gave that lady kind A blow so huge, so strong, so great, so sore, That out of sense and feeling, down she twined: But her dear knight his love from ground upbore, Were it their fortune, or his noble mind, He stayed his hand and strook the dame no more: A lion so stalks by, and with proud eyes Beholds, but scorns to hurt a man that lies.

XLIV This while Ormondo false, whose cruel hand Was armed and prest to give the trait’rous blow, With all his fellows mongst Godfredo’s band Entered unseen, disguised that few them know: The thievish wolves, when night o’ershades the land, That seem like faithful dogs in shape and show, So to the closed folds in secret creep, And entrance seek; to kill some harmless sheep.

XLV He proached nigh, and to Godfredo’s side The bloody Pagan now was placed near: But when his colors gold and white he spied, And saw the other signs that forged were, “See, see, this traitor false!” the captain cried, “That like a Frenchman would in show appear, Behold how near his mates and he are crept!” This said, upon the villain forth he leapt;

LXVI Deadly he wounded him, and that false knight Nor strikes nor wards nor striveth to be gone; But, as Medusa’s head were in his sight, Stood like a man new turned to marble stone, All lances broke, unsheathed all weapons bright, All quivers emptied were on them alone, In parts so many were the traitors cleft, That those dead men had no dead bodies left.

LXVII When Godfrey was with Pagan blood bespread, He entered then the fight and that was past Where the bold Persian fought and combated, Where the close ranks he opened, cleft and brast; Before the knight the troops and squadrons fled, As Afric dust before the southern blast; The Duke recalled them, in array them placed, Stayed those that fled, and him assailed that chased.

LXVIII The champions strong there fought a battle stout, Troy never saw the like by Xanthus old: A conflict sharp there was meanwhile on foot Twixt Baldwin good and Muleasses bold: The horsemen also near the mountains root, And in both wings, a furious skirmish hold, And where the barbarous duke in person stood, Twixt Tisiphernes and Adrastus proud;

XLIX With Emiren Robert the Norman strove, Long time they fought, yet neither lost nor won; The other Robert’s helm the Indian clove, And broke his arms, their fight would soon be done: From place to place did Tisiphernes rove, And found no match, against him none dust run, But where the press was thickest thither flew The knight, and at each stroke felled, hurt, or slew.

L Thus fought they long, yet neither shrink nor yield, In equal balance hung their hope and fear: All full of broken lances lay the field, All full of arms that cloven and shattered were; Of swords, some to the body nail the shield, Some cut men’s throats, and some their bellies tear; Of bodies, some upright, some grovelling lay, And for themselves eat graves out of the clay.

LI Beside his lord slain lay the noble steed, There friend with friend lay killed like lovers true, There foe with foe, the live under the dead, The victor under him whom late he slew: A hoarse unperfect sound did eachwhere spread, Whence neither silence, nor plain outcries flew: There fury roars, ire threats, and woe complains, One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains.

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

LIII But now the Moors, Arabians, Ethiops black, Of the left wing that held the utmost marge, Spread forth their troops, and purposed at the back And side their heedless foes to assail and charge: Slingers and archers were not slow nor slack To shoot and cast, when with his battle large Rinaldo came, whose fury, haste and ire, Seemed earthquake, thunder, tempest, storm and fire.

LIV The first he met was Asimire, his throne That set in Meroe’s hot sunburnt land, He cut his neck in twain, flesh, skin and bone, The sable head down tumbled on the sand; But when by death of this black prince alone The taste of blood and conquest once he fand, Whole squadrons then, whole troops to earth he brought, Things wondrous, strange, incredible he wrought.

LV He gave more deaths than strokes, and yet his blows Upon his feeble foes fell oft and thick, To move three tongues as a fierce serpent shows, Which rolls the one she hath swift, speedy, quick, So thinks each Pagan; each Arabian trows He wields three swords, all in one hilt that stick; His readiness their eyes so blinded hath, Their dread that wonder bred, fear gave it faith.

LVI The Afric tyrants and the negro kings Fell down on heaps, drowned each in other’s blood, Upon their people ran the knights he brings, Pricked forward by their guide’s example good, Killed were the Pagans, broke their bows and slings: Some died, some fell; some yielded, none withstood: A massacre was this, no fight; these put Their foes to death, those hold their throats to cut.

LVII Small while they stood, with heart and hardy face, On their bold breasts deep wounds and hurts to bear, But fled away, and troubled in the chase Their ranks disordered be with too much fear: Rinaldo followed them from place to place, Till quite discomfit and dispersed they were. That done, he stays, and all his knights recalls, And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls.