Part 68

LVIII Like as the wind stopped by some wood or hill, Grows strong and fierce, tears boughs and trees in twain, But with mild blasts, more temperate, gentle, still, Blows through the ample field or spacious plain; Against the rocks as sea-waves murmur shrill, But silent pass amid the open main: Rinaldo so, when none his force withstood, Assuaged his fury, calmed his angry mood;

LIX He scorned upon their fearful backs that fled To wreak his ire and spend his force in vain, But gainst the footmen strong his troops he led, Whose side the Moors had open left and plain, The Africans that should have succored That battle, all were run away or slain, Upon their flank with force and courage stout His men at arms assailed the bands on foot:

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

LXI Rinaldo came where his forlorn Armide Sate on her golden chariot mounted high, A noble guard she had on every side Of lords, of lovers, and much chivalry: She knew the man when first his arms she spied, Love, hate, wrath, sweet desire strove in her eye, He changed somedeal his look and countenance bold, She changed from frost to fire, from heat to cold.

LXII The prince passed by the chariot of his dear Like one that did his thoughts elsewhere bestow, Yet suffered not her knights and lovers near Their rival so to scape withouten blow, One drew his sword, another couched his spear, Herself an arrow sharp set in her bow, Disdain her ire new sharped and kindled hath, But love appeased her, love assuaged her wrath.

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

LXIV She bids the reed return the way it went, And pierce her heart which so unkind could prove, Such force had love, though lost and vainly spent, What strength hath happy, kind and mutual love? But she that gentle thought did straight repent, Wrath, fury, kindness, in her bosom strove, She would, she would not, that it missed or hit, Her eyes, her heart, her wishes followed it.

LXV But yet in vain the quarrel lighted not, For on his hauberk hard the knight it hit, Too hard for woman’s shaft or woman’s shot, Instead of piercing, there it broke and split; He turned away, she burnt with fury hot, And thought he scorned her power, and in that fit Shot oft and oft, her shafts no entrance found, And while she shot, love gave her wound on wound.

LXVI “And is he then unpierceable,” quoth she, “That neither force nor foe he needs regard? His limbs, perchance, armed with that hardness be, Which makes his heart so cruel and so hard, No shot that flies from eye or hand I see Hurts him, such rigor doth his person guard, Armed, or disarmed; his foe or mistress kind Despised alike, like hate, like scorn I find.

LXVII “But what new form is left, device or art, By which, to which exchanged, I might find grace? For in my knights, and all that take my part, I see no help; no hope, no trust I place; To his great prowess, might, and valiant heart, All strength is weak, all courage vile and base.” This said she, for she saw how through the field Her champions fly, faint, tremble, fall and yield.

LXVIII Nor left alone can she her person save, But to be slain or taken stands in fear, Though with a bow a javelin long she have, Yet weak was Phebe’s bow, blunt Pallas’ spear. But, as the swan, that sees the eagle brave Threatening her flesh and silver plumes to tear, Falls down, to hide her mongst the shady brooks: Such were her fearful motions, such her looks.

LXIX But Altamore, this while that strove and sought From shameful flight his Persian host to stay, That was discomfit and destroyed to nought, Whilst he alone maintained the fight and fray, Seeing distressed the goddess of his thought, To aid her ran, nay flew, and laid away All care both of his honor and his host: If she were safe, let all the world be lost.

LXX To the ill-guarded chariot swift he flew, His weapon made him way with bloody war: Meanwhile Lord Godfrey and Rinaldo slew His feeble bands, his people murdered are, He saw their loss, but aided not his crew, A better lover than a leader far, He set Armida safe, then turned again With tardy succor, for his folk were slain.

LXXI And on that side the woful prince beheld The battle lost, no help nor hope remained; But on the other wing the Christians yield, And fly, such vantage there the Egyptians gained, One of the Roberts was nigh slain in field; The other by the Indian strong constrained To yield himself his captive and his slave; Thus equal loss and equal foil they have.

LXXII Godfredo took the time and season fit To bring again his squadrons in array, And either camp well ordered, ranged and knit, Renewed the furious battle, fight and fray, New streams of blood were shed, new swords them hit; New combats fought, new spoils were borne away, And unresolved and doubtful, on each side, Did praise and conquest, Mars and Fortune ride.

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

LXXIV At first astonished and amazed he stood Then burnt with wrath, and self-consuming ire, Swelled his bosom like a raging flood, To be amid that battle; such desire, Such haste he had; he donned his helmet good, His other arms he had before entire, “Up, up!” he cried, “no more, no more, within This fortress stay, come follow, die or win.”

LXXV Whether the same were Providence divine That made him leave the fortress he possessed, For that the empire proud of Palestine This day should fall, to rise again more blessed; Or that he breaking felt the fatal line Of life, and would meet death with constant breast, Furious and fierce he did the gates unbar, And sudden rage brought forth, and sudden war.

LXXVI Nor stayed he till the folk on whom he cried Assemble might, but out alone he flies, A thousand foes the man alone defied, And ran among a thousand enemies: But with his fury called from every side, The rest run out, and Aladine forth hies, The cowards had no fear, the wise no care, This was not hope, nor courage, but despair.

LXXVII The dreadful Turk with sudden blows down cast The first he met, nor gave them time to plain Or pray, in murdering them he made such haste That dead they fell ere one could see them slain; From mouth to mouth, from eye to eye forth passed The fear and terror, that the faithful train Of Syrian folk, not used to dangerous fight, Were broken, scattered, and nigh put to flight.

LXXVIII But with less terror, and disorder less, The Gascoigns kept array, and kept their ground, Though most the loss and peril them oppress, Unwares assailed they were, unready found. No ravening tooth or talon hard I guess Of beast or eager hawk, doth slay and wound So many sheep or fowls, weak, feeble, small, As his sharp sword killed knights and soldiers tall.

LXXIX It seemed his thirst and hunger ’suage he would With their slain bodies, and their blood poured out, With him his troops and Aladino old Slew their besiegers, killed the Gascoign rout: But Raymond ran to meet the Soldan bold, Nor to encounter him had fear or doubt, Though his right hand by proof too well he know, Which laid him late for dead at one huge blow.

LXXX They met, and Raymond fell amid the field, This blow again upon his forehead light, It was the fault and weakness of his eild, Age is not fit to bear strokes of such might, Each one lift up his sword, advanced his shield, Those would destroy, and these defend the knight. On went the Soldan, for the man he thought Was slain, or easily might be captive brought.

LXXXI Among the rest he ran, he raged, he smote, And in small space, small time, great wonders wrought And as his rage him led and fury hot, To kill and murder, matter new he sought: As from his supper poor with hungry throat A peasant hastes, to a rich feast ybrought; So from this skirmish to the battle great He ran, and quenched with blood his fury’s heat.

LXXXII Where battered was the wall he sallied out, And to the field in haste and heat he goes, With him went rage and fury, fear and doubt Remained behind, among his scattered foes: To win the conquest strove his squadron stout, Which he unperfect left; yet loth to lose The day, the Christians fight, resist and die, And ready were to yield, retire and fly.

LXXXIII The Gascoign bands retired, but kept array, The Syrian people ran away outright, The fight was near the place where Tancred lay, His house was full of noise and great affright, He rose and looked forth to see the fray, Though every limb were weak, faint, void of might; He saw the country lie, his men o’erthrown, Some beaten back, some killed, some felled down.

LXXXIV Courage in noble hearts that ne’er is spent, Yet fainted not, though faint were every limb, But reinforced each member cleft and rent, And want of blood and strength supplied in him; In his left hand his heavy shield he hent, Nor seemed the weight too great, his curtlax trim His right hand drew, nor for more arms he stood Or stayed, he needs no more whose heart is good:

LXXXV But coming forth, cried, “Whither will you run, And leave your leader to his foes in prey? What! shall these heathen of his armor won, In their vile temples hang up trophies gay? Go home to Gascoign then, and tell his son That where his father died, you ran away:” This said, against a thousand armed foes, He did his breast weak, naked, sick, oppose.