Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The Recouerie of Ierusalem Done into English Heroicall verse, by Edward Fairefax |
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The sixth Booke of Godfrey of Bulloigne.
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 | Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The Recouerie of Ierusalem |  |
The sixth Booke of Godfrey of Bulloigne.
The argument.
Argantes calles the Christians out to iust:Otho not chosen doth his strength assay,
But from his saddle tumbleth in the dust,
And captiue to the towne is sent away:
Tancred begins new fight and when both trust
To win the praise and palme, night ends the fray:
Erminia hopes to cure her wounded knight,
And from the citie armed rides by night.
1
Bvt better hopes had them recomfortedThat lay besieged in the sacred towne;
With new supplie late were they vittailed,
When night obscur'd the earth with shadowes browne,
Their armes and engins on the walles they spred,
Their slings to cast, and stones to tumble downe;
And all that side which to the northward lies,
High rampires and strong bulwarks fortifies.
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2
Their warie king commands now here now there,To build this towre, to make that bulwarke strong,
Whither the sunne, the moone, or stars appere,
To giue them light, to worke no time comes wrong:
In euerie street new weapons forged were,
By cunning smithes, sweating with labour long;
While thus the carefull Prince prouision maide,
To him Argantes came, and boasting said.
3
How long shall we (like prisoners in chaines)Captiued lie inclos'd within this wall?
I see your workmen taking endlesse paines
To make new weapons, for no vse at all;
Meane-while these westren theeues destroy the plaines,
Your townes are burnt, your forts and castels fall,
Yet none of vs dares at these gates out-peepe,
Or sound one trumpet shrill to breake their sleepe.
4
Their time in feasting and good cheere they spend,Nor dare we once their bankets sweet molest,
The daies and nights they bring likewise to end,
In peace, assurance, quiet, ease and rest:
But we must yeeld, whom hunger soone will shend,
And make for peace (to saue our liues) request,
Else (if th' Egyptian armie stay too long)
Like cowards die within this fortresse strong.
5
Yet neuer shall my courage great consentSo vile a death should end my noble daies,
Nor on mine armes, within these walles ipent,
To morrowes sun shall spread his timely raies:
Let sacred heau'ns dispose (as they are bent)
Of this fraile life, yet not withouten praise
Of valour, prowesse, might, Argantes shall
Inglorious die, or vnreuenged fall.
6
But if the rootes of wonted chiualrieBe not quite dead, your princely brest within,
Deuise not how with fame and praise to die,
But how to liue, to conquer and to win;
Let vs together at these gates out-flie,
And skirmish bold, and bloodie fight begin;
For when last need to desperation driueth,
Who dareth most, he wisest counsell giueth.
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7
But if in field your wisdome dare not venterTo hazard all your troopes to doubtfull fight,
Then binde your selfe to Godfrey by endenter,
To end your quarels, by one single knight:
And, for the Christian this accord shall enter
With better will, say such you know your right,
That he the weapons, place and time, shall chuse,
And let him for his best, that vantage vse.
8
For though your foe had hands, like Hector strong,With hart vnfear'd, and courage sterne and stout,
Yet no misfortune can your iustice wrong,
And what that wanteth, shall this arme helpe out,
In spite of fate shall this right hand ere long,
Returne victorious: if hereof you dout,
Take it for pledge, wherein if trust you haue,
It shall your selfe defend and kingdome saue.
9
Bold youth (the tyrant thus began to speake)Although I with'red seeme with age and yeares,
Yet are not these old armes so faint and weake,
Nor this hoare head so full of doubts and feares;
But when as death this vitall threed shall breake,
He shall my courage heare, my death who heares:
And Aladine that liu'd a king and knight,
To his faire morne will haue an euening bright.
10
But that (which yet I would haue further blaised)To thee in secret shall be told and spoken,
Great Soliman of Nice (so far ipraised,
To be reuenged, for his scepter broken)
The men of armes of Arabie hath raised,
From Inde to Afrike, and (when we giue token)
Attends the fauour of the friendly night
To vittaile vs, and with our foes to fight.
11
Now though Godfredo hold by warlike featSome castles poore, and fortes in vile oppression,
Care not for that; for still our princely seat,
This stately towne, we keepe in our possession:
But thou appease and calme that courage great,
Which in thy bosome makes so hot impression;
And stay fit time, which will betide ere long,
T'encrease thy glorie, and reuenge our wrong.
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12
The Saracine at this was inly spited,Who Solimans great worth had long enuied,
To heare him praised thus he nought delited,
Nor that the king vpon his aide relied:
Within your powre (sir king) he saies, vnited
Are peace and war, nor shall that be denied;
But for the Turke and his Arabian band,
He lost his owne, shall he defend your land?
13
Perchance he comes some heau'nly messengare,Sent downe to set the Pagan people free,
Then let Argantes for himselfe take care:
This sword (I trust) shall well safeconduct mee:
But while you rest and all your forces spare,
That I goe foorth to war at least agree,
Though not your champion, yet a priuate knight,
I will some Christian proue in single fight.
14
The king replied, though thy force and mightShould be reseru'd, to better time and vse;
Yet that thou challenge some renowned knight,
Among the Christians bold I not refuse.
The warrior breathing out desire of fight,
An herald call'd, and said, go tell these newes
To Godfreys selfe, and to the westren Lords,
And in their hearings boldly say these words.
15
Say that a knight (who holds in great disdaineTo be thus closed vp in secret mew)
Will with his sword in open field maintaine,
(If any dare denie his words for trew)
That no deuotion (as they falsly faine)
Hath mou'd the French these countries to subdew;
But vile ambition, and prides hatefull vice,
Desire of rule and spoile, and couetice.
16
And that to fight I am not only prestWith one or two that dare defend the cause,
But come the fourth or fift, come all the rest,
Come all that will, and all that weapon drawes,
Let him that yeelds obey the victors hest,
As wils the lore of mightie Mars his lawes:
This was the challenge that fierce Pagan sent,
The herald dond his coate of armes, and went.
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17
And when the man before the presence cameOf princely Godfrey, and his captaines bold;
My Lord (quoth he) may I withouten blame
Before your grace, my message braue vnfold?
Thou maist, he answer'd, we approue the same,
Withouten feare, be thine ambassage told.
Then (quoth the herald) shall your highnes see,
If this ambassage sharpe or pleasing bee.
18
The challenge gan he then at large expose,With mightie threats, high termes and glorious words,
On euerie side an angrie murmur rose,
To wrath so moued were the knights and Lords.
Then Godfrey spake and said, the man hath chose
An hard exploit, but when he feeles our swords,
I trust we shall so faire intreat the knight,
As to excuse the fourth or fift of fight.
19
But let him come and proue, the field I grant,Nor wrong nor treason let him doubt or feare,
Some here shall pay him for his glorious vant,
Without or guile or vantage, that I sweare.
The herald turn'd when he had ended scant,
And hasted backe the way he came whileare,
Nor staid he ought, nor once foreslow'd his pace,
Till he bespake Argantes face to face.
20
Arme you, my Lord, he said, your bold defiesBy your braue foes accepted boldly beene,
This combat neither high nor low denies,
Ten thousand wish to meete you on the greene;
A thousand frown'd with angrie flaming eies,
And shakt for rage their swords and weapons keene;
The field is safely granted by their guide,
This said, the champion for his armour cride.
21
While he was arm'd, his hart for ire nie brake,So earnd his courage hot his foe to finde:
The king, to faire Clorinda present, spake;
If he goe foorth, remaine not you behinde,
But of our soldiers best a thousand take,
To garde his person and your owne assignde;
Yet let him meete alone the Christian knight,
And stand your selfe aloofe, while they two fight.
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22
Thus spake the king, and soone without aboadThe troope went forth in shining armour clad,
Before the rest the Pagan champion road,
His wonted armes and ensignes all he had:
A goodly plaine displayed wide and broad,
Betweene the citie and the campe was sprad,
A place like that wherein proud Rome beheild
He forward yong men menage speare and sheild.
23
There all alone Argantes tooke his stand,Defying Christ, and all his seruants trew,
In stature, stomacke, and in strength of hand,
In pride, presumption, and in dreadfull shew,
Encelade like, on the Phlegrean strand,
Or that huge giant Ishaies infant slew;
But his fierce semblant they esteemed light,
For most not knew, or else not fear'd, his might.
24
As yet not one had Godfrey singled outTo vndertake this hardie enterpries,
But on prince Tancred saw he all the rout
Had fixt their wishes, and had cast their eies,
On him he spide them gazing round about,
As though their honour on his prowesse lies,
And now they whispred lowder what they ment,
Which Godfrey heard and saw, and was content.
25
The rest gaue place; for euerie one descrideTo whom their chieftaines will did most incline,
Tancred (quoth he) I pray thee calme the pride,
Abate the rage, of yonder Sarracine:
No longer would the chosen champion bide,
His face with ioy, his eies with gladnes shine,
His helme he tooke, and readie steed bestroad,
And guarded with his trustie friends, forth road.
26
But scantly had he spurr'd his courser swiftNeere to that plaine, where proud Argantes staid,
When vnawares his eies he chanst to lift,
And on the hill beheld the warlike maid,
As white as snowe vpon the Alpine clift
The virgin shone, in siluer armes arraid,
Her ventall vp so hie, that he descride
Her goodly visage, and her beauties pride.
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27
He saw not where the Pagan stood, and stared,As if with lookes he would his foeman kill,
But full of other thoughts he forward fared,
And sent his lookes before him vp the hill,
His gesture such his troubled soule declared,
At last as marble rocke he standeth still,
Stone-cold, without; within, burnt with loues flame,
And quite forgot himselfe, and why he came.
28
The challenger, that yet sawe none appeareThat made or signe or shew he came to iust,
How long (cride he) shall I attend you heare?
Dares none come forth? dares none his fortune trust?
The other stood amaz'd, loue stopt his eare,
He thinks on Cupid, thinke of Mars who lust;
But forth start Otho bold, and tooke the field,
A gentle knight, whom God from danger shield.
29
This youth was one of those, who late desiredWith that vaine-glorious boaster to haue fought,
But Tancred chosen, he and all retired:
Yet to the field the valiant Prince they brought,
Now when his slacknes he a while admired,
And saw else-where employed was his thought,
Nor that to iust (though chosen) once he profred,
He boldly tooke that fit occasion offred.
30
No tyger, panther, spotted leopard,Runs halfe so swift, the forrests wilde among,
As this yong champion hasted thitherward,
Where he attending saw the Pagan strong:
Tancredie started with the noise he hard,
As wakt from sleepe, where he had dreamed long,
Oh stay he cride, to me belongs this war,
But cride too late, Otho was gone too far.
31
Then full of furie, anger and despite,He staid his horse, and waxed red for shame,
The fight was his, but now disgraced quite
Himselfe he thought, another plaid his game;
Meane-while the Sarracine did hugely smite
On Othoes helme; who to requite the same,
His foe quite through his seu'n-fold targe did beare,
And in his brest-plate stucke and broke his speare.
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32
Th' incounter such, vpon the tender gras,Downe from his steed the Christian backward fell;
Yet his proud foe so strong and sturdie was,
That he nor shooke, nor staggred in his cell,
But to the knight, that lay full lowe (alas)
In high disdaine his will thus gan he tell,
Yeeld thee my slaue, and this thine honour be,
Thou maist report thou hast encountred me.
33
Not so (quoth he) pardie its not the guiseOf Christian knights, though falne, so soone to yeeld;
I can my fall excuse in better wise,
And will reuenge this shame, or die in feeld.
The great Circassian bent his frowning eies,
Like that grim visage in Mineruaes sheeld,
Then learne (quoth he) what force Argantes vseth
Against that foole, that profred grace refuseth.
34
With that he spurr'd his horse with speed and haste,(Forgetting what good knights to vertue owe)
Otho his furie shunn'd, and (as he past)
At his right side he reacht a noble blowe,
Wide was the wound, the blood outstreamed fast,
And from his side fell to his stirrup lowe:
But what auailes to hurt, if wounds augment
Our foes fierce courage, strength and hardiment?
35
Argantes nimbly turn'd his readie stead,And ere his foe was wist or well aware,
Against his side he droue his coursers head,
What force could he gainst so great might prepare?
Weake were his feeble ioints, his courage dead,
His hart amaz'd, his palenesse shew'd his care,
His tender side gainst the hard earth he cast,
Sham'd, with the first fall; bruised, with the last.
36
The victor spurr'd againe his light-foot stead,And made his passage ouer Othos hart,
And cride; these fooles thus vnder foot I tread,
That dare contend with me in equall mart.
Tancred for anger shooke his noble head,
So was he grieu'd with that vnknightly part;
The fault was his, he was so slowe before,
With double valour would he salue that sore.
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37
Forward he gallopt fast, and lowdly cride:Villaine (quoth he) thy conquest is thy shame,
What praise, what honour shall this fact betide?
What gaine, what guerdon shall befall the same?
Among th' Arabian theeues thy face goe hide,
Far from resort of men of worth and fame,
Or else in woods and mountaines wilde, by night,
On sauage beasts, imploy thy sauage might.
38
The Pagan patience neuer knew, nor vsed,Trembling for ire, his sandie locks he tore,
Out from his lips flew such a sound confused,
As lions make, in desarts thicke which rore;
Or as when clouds together crusht and brused,
Powre downe a tempest by the Caspian shore:
So was his speech imperfect, stopt and broken,
He roar'd and thrund'red, when he should haue spoken.
39
But when with threats they both had whetted keeneTheir eager rage, their furie, spite and ire,
They turn'd their steeds, and left large space betweene,
To make their forces greater, proaching nire,
With termes that warlike and that worthie beene:
(O sacred muse) my hawtie thoughts inspire,
And make a trumpet of my slender quill,
To thunder out this furious combat shrill.
40
These sonnes of Mauors bore (in stead of speares)Two knottie masts, which none but they could lift,
Each foming steed so fast his master beares,
That neuer beast, bird, shaft flew halfe so swift;
Such was their furie, as when Boreas teares
The shattred crags from Taurus northren clift,
Vpon their helmes their lances long they broke,
And vp to heau'n flew splinters, sparks, and smoke.
41
The shocke made all the towres and turrets quake,And woods and mountaines all nie-hand resound;
Yet could not all that force and furie shake
The valiant champions, nor their persons wound,
Together hurtled both their steedes, and brake
Each others necke, the riders lay on ground:
But they (great masters of wars dreadfull art)
Pluckt forth their swords and soone from earth vp start.
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42
Close at his surest warde each warriour lieth,He wisely guides his hand, his foot, his eie,
This blow he proueth, that defence he trieth,
He trauerseth, retireth, preaseth nie,
Now strikes he out, and now he falsifieth,
This blowe he wardeth, that he lets slip bie,
And for aduantage oft he lets some part
Discouer'd seeme, thus art deludeth art.
43
The Pagan ill defenst with sword or targeTancredies thigh (as he suppos'd) espide,
And reaching forth gainst it his weapon large,
Quite naked to his foe leaues his left side;
Tancred auoideth quicke his furious charge,
And gaue him eeke a wound deepe, sore and wide;
That donne himselfe safe to his ward retired,
His courage prais'd by all, his skill admired.
44
The proud Circassian saw his streaming blood,Downe from his wound (as from a fountaine) running,
He sigh'd for rage, and trembled as he stood,
He blam'd his fortune, follie, want of cunning;
He lift his sword aloft, for ire nigh wood,
And forward rusht: Tancred his furie shunning,
With a sharpe thrust once more the Pagan hit,
To his broad shoulder where his arme is knit.
45
Like as a beare through pearsed with a dart,Within the secret woods, no further flieth,
But bites the senselesse weapon mad with smart,
Seeking reuenge till vnreueng'd she dieth;
So mad Argantes far'd, when his proud hart
Wound vpon wound, and shame on shame espieth,
Desire of veng'ance so orecame his senses,
That he forgot all dangers, all defenses.
46
Vniting force extreme, with endlesse wrath,Supporting both with youth and strength vntired,
His thundring blowes so fast about he la'th,
That skies and earth the flying sparkles fired:
His foe to strike one blow no leasure hath,
Scantly he breathed, though he oft desired,
His warlike skill and cunning all was waste,
Such was Argantes force, and such his haste.
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47
Long time Tancredie had in vaine attended,When this huge storme should ouerblow and pas,
Some blowes his mightie target well defended,
Some fell beside and wounded deepe the gras;
But when he saw the tempest neuer ended,
Nor that the Painims force ought weaker was,
He high aduanst his cutting sword at length,
And rage to rage oppos'd, and strength to strength.
48
Wrath bore the sway, both art and reason faile,Furie new force and courage new supplies,
Their armours forged were of mettall fraile,
On euery side, thereof huge cantels flies,
The land was strowed all with plate and maile,
That, on the earth; on that, their warme blood lies,
And at each rush and euery blowe they smote,
Thunder, the noise; the sparks, seem'd lightning hote.
49
The Christian people and the Pagans gazed,On this fierce combat, wishing oft the end,
Twixt hope and feare they stood long time amased,
To see the knights assaile and eeke defend:
Yet neither signe they made, nor noise they raised,
But for the issue of the fight attend,
And stood as still, as life and sense they wanted,
Saue that their harts within their bosoms panted.
50
Now were they tired both, and well-nie spent,Their blowes shew'd greater will, then powre to wound:
But night her gentle daughter darknes, sent
With friendly shade, to ouerspread the ground,
Two heralds to the fighting champions went,
To part the fray, as law of armes them bound,
Aridens borne in France, and wise Pindore,
The man that brought the challenge proud before.
51
These men their scepters interpose, betweeneThe doubtfull hazards of vncertaine fight;
For such their priuilege hath euer beene,
The law of nations doth defend their right;
Pindore began, stay, stay, you warriors keene,
Equall your honour, equall is your might;
Forbeare this combate, so we deeme it best,
Giue night her due, and grant your persons rest.
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52
Man goeth forth to labour with the sunne,But with the night, all creatures draw to sleepe,
Nor yet of hidden praise in darknes wonne,
The valiant hart of noble knight takes keepe.
Argantes answer'd him, the fight begonne
Now to forbeare, doth wound my hart right deepe:
Yet will I stay, so that this Christian sweare,
(Before you both) againe to meet me heare.
53
I sweare (quoth Tancred) but sweare thou likewise,To make returne, thy prisner eeke with thee;
Else for atchieuement of this enterprise,
None other time but this expect of mee:
Thus sware they both; the heralds both deuise,
What time for this exploite should fittest bee:
And for their wounds of rest and cure had need,
To meet againe the sixt day was decreed.
54
This fight was deepe imprinted in their harts,That saw this bloodie fray to ending brought,
An horror great possest their weaker parts,
Which made them shrinke who on this combat thought:
Much speech was of the praise and high desarts,
Of these braue champions, that so nobly fought;
But which for knightly worth was most ipraised,
Of that was doubt, and disputation raised.
55
All long to see them end this doubtfull fray,And as they fauour, so they wish successe,
These hope true vertue shall obtaine the day,
Those trust on furie, strength and hardinesse;
But on Erminia most this burthen lay,
Whose lookes her trouble and her feare expresse;
For on this dang'rous combats doubtfull end,
Her ioy, her comfort, hope and life depend.
96
Her the sole daughter of that haplesse king,That of proud Antioch late wore the crowne,
The Christian soldiers to Tancredie bring,
When they had sackt and spoil'd that glorious towne;
But he (in whom all good and vertue spring)
The virgins honour sau'd, and her renowne;
And when her citie and her state was lost,
Then was her person lou'd, and honour'd most.
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57
He honour'd her, seru'd her, and leaue her gaue,And will'd her goe whither, and when she list,
Her gold and iewels had he care to saue,
And them restored all, she nothing mist,
She (that beheld his youth and person braue)
When, by this deed, his noble minde she wist,
Laid ope her hart for Cupids shaft to hit,
Who neuer knots of loue more surer knit.
58
Her bodie free, captiued was her hart,And loue the keies did of that prison beare,
Prepar'd to goe it was a death to part
From that kinde Lord, and from that prison deare:
But thou O honour which esteemed art,
The chiefest vesture noble Ladies weare,
Enforcest her against her will, to wend
To Aladine, her mothers dearest frend.
59
At Sion was this princesse entertained,By that old tyrant and her mother deare,
Whose losse too soone the wofull damsell plained,
Her griefe was such, she liu'd not halfe the yeare,
Yet banishment, nor losse of friends constrained
The haplesse maid, her passions to forbeare,
For though exceeding were her woe and griefe,
Of all her sorrowes yet her loue was chiefe.
60
The seelie maide in secret longing pined,Her hope a mote drawne vp by Phebus raies,
Her loue a mountaine seem'd, whereon bright shined
Fresh memorie of Tancreds worth and praise,
Within her closet if her selfe she shrined,
A hotter fire her tender hart assaies:
Tancred at last, to raise her hope nigh dead,
Before those wals did his broad ensigne spread.
61
The rest to vew the Christian armie feared,Such seem'd their number, such their powre and might,
But she alone her troubled forehead cleared,
And on them spred her beautie shining bright;
In euerie squadron when it first appeared,
Her curious eie sought out her chosen knight;
And euerie gallant that the rest excels,
The same seemes him, so loue and fancie tels.
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62
Within the kingly pallace, builded hie,A turret standeth neere the cities wall,
From which Erminia might at ease descrie
The westren host, the plaines and mountaines all,
And there she stood all the long day to spie,
From Phebus rising to his euening fall,
And with her thoughts disputed of his praise,
And euerie thought a scalding sigh did raise.
63
From hence the furious combat she suruaid,And felt her hart tremble with feare and paine,
Her secret thought thus to her fancie said,
Behold thy deere in danger to be slaine;
So with suspect, with feare and griefe dismaid,
Attended she her darlings losse or gaine,
And euer when the Pagan lift his blade,
The stroke a wound in her weake bosome made.
64
But when she saw the end, and wist withallTheir strong contention should eftsoones begin,
Amasement strange her courage did appall,
Her vitall blood was icie cold within;
Sometimes she sighed, sometimes teares let fall,
To witnes what distresse her hart was in,
Hopelesse, dismai'd, pale, sad, astonished,
Her loue, her feare; her feare, her torment bred.
65
Her idle braine vnto her soule presentedDeath, in an hundred vglie fashions painted,
And if she slept, then was her greefe augmented,
With such sad visions were her thoughts acquainted;
She saw her Lord with wounds and hurts tormented,
How he complain'd, call'd for her helpe, and fainted,
And found, awakt from that vnquiet sleeping,
Her hart with panting, sore; eies, red with weeping.
66
Yet these presages of his comming ill,Not greatest cause of her discomfort weare,
She saw his blood from his deepe wounds distill,
Nor what he suffred could she bide or beare:
Besides, report her longing eare did fill,
Doubling his danger, doubling so her feare,
That she concludes (so was her courage lost)
Her wounded Lord was weake, faint, dead almost.
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67
And for her mother had her taught beforeThe secret vertue of each herbe that springs,
Besides fit charmes for euerie wound or sore
Corruption breedeth, or misfortune brings,
(An art esteemed in those times of yore,
Beseeming daughters of great Lords and kings)
She would her selfe, be surgeon to her knight,
And heale him with her skill, or with her sight.
68
Thus would she cure her loue, and cure her foeShe must, that had her friends and kinsfolke slaine:
Some cursed weedes her cunning hand did knoe,
That could augment his harme, encrease his paine;
But she abhorr'd to be reuenged soe,
No treason should her spotlesse person staine,
And vertuelesse she wisht all herbes and charmes,
Wherewith false men encrease their patients harmes.
69
Nor feared she among the bands to strayOf armed men, for often had she seene
The tragike end, of many a bloodie fray;
Her life had full of haps and hazards beene,
This made her bold in euerie hard assay,
More than her feeble sexe became, I weene,
She feared not the shake of euerie reed,
So cowards are couragious made through need.
70
Loue, fearelesse, hardie, and audacious loue,Embold'ned had this tender damsell so,
That where wilde beasts and serpents glide and moue,
Through Afrikes desarts, durst she ride or goe,
Saue that her honour (she esteem'd aboue
Her life and bodies safetie) told her noe;
For in the seeret of her troubled thought,
A doubtfull combat, loue and honour fought.
71
O spotlesse virgin (honour thus begonne)That my true lore obserued firmely hast,
When with thy foes thou didst in bondage wonne,
Remember then I kept thee pure and chast,
At libertie, now whither wouldst thou ronne,
To lay that field of princely vertue waste?
Or lose that iewell Ladies hold so deare?
Is maidenhood so great a load to beare?
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72
Or deem'st thou it a praise of little prise,The glorious title of a virgins name?
That thou wilt gad by night in giglet wise,
Amid thine armed foes, to seeke thy shame.
O foole, a woman conquers when she flies,
Refusall kindleth, profers quench the flame.
Thy Lord will iudge thou sinnest beyond measure,
If vainly thus thou waste so rich a treasure.
73
The slie deceiuer Cupid, thus beguildThe simple damsell, with his filed tong;
Thou wert not borne (quoth he) in desarts wilde
The cruell beares, and sauage beastes among,
That thou shouldst scorne faire Cithereas childe,
Or hate those pleasures that to youth belong,
Nor did the gods thy hart of iron frame;
To be in loue is neither sinne nor shame.
74
Goe then, goe, whither sweet desire inuiteth,How can thy gentle knight so cruell bee?
Loue in his hart thy greefes and sorrowes writeth,
For thy laments how he complaineth, see.
Oh cruell woman, whom no care exciteth
To saue his life, that sau'd and honour'd thee!
He languisheth, one foote thou wilt not moue
To succour him, yet saist thou art in loue.
75
No, no, stay here Argantes wounds to cure,And make him strong to shed thy darlings blood,
Of such reward he may himselfe assure,
That doth a thanklesse woman so much good:
Ah may it be thy patience can endure
To see the strength of this Circassion wood,
And not with horror and amazement shrinke,
When on their future fight thou hapst to thinke?
76
Besides the thanks and praises for the deed,Suppose what ioy, what comfort shalt thou winne,
When thy soft hand doth wholsome plaisters spreed,
Vpon the breaches in his iuorie skinne,
Thence to thy deerest Lord, may health succeed,
Strength to his lims, blood to his cheekes so thinne,
And his rare beauties now halfe dead and more,
Thou maist to him, him, to thy selfe restore.
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77
So shall some part of his aduentures bold,And valiant actes, henceforth be held as thine;
His deere embracements shall thee strait enfold,
Together ioin'd in marriage rites diuine:
Lastly high place of honour shalt thou hold
Among the matrons sage, and dames Latine,
In Italie, a land (as each one tels)
Where valour true, and true religion dwels.
78
With such vaine hopes the seelie maid abused,Promist her selfe mountaines, and hils of gold;
Yet were her thoughts with doubts and feares confused,
How to escape vnseene out of that hold,
Because the watchmen euery minute vsed
To garde the walles, against the Christians bold,
And in such furie and such heat of war,
The gates or seld, or neuer, opened ar.
79
With strong Clorinda was Erminia sweet,In surest linkes of deerest friendship bound,
With her she vs'd the rising sunne to greet,
And her (when Phebus glided vnder ground)
She made the louely partner of her sheet;
In both their harts one will, one thought was found;
Nor ought she hid from that Virago bold,
Except her loue, that tale to none she told.
80
That kept she secret, if Clorinda hardHer make complaints, or secretly lament,
To other cause her sorrow she refard:
Matter enough she had of discontent,
Like as the bird that hauing close imbard
Her tender yong ones in the springing bent,
To draw the searcher further from her neast,
Cries and complaines most, where she needeth least.
81
Alone, within her chambers secret part,Sitting one day vpon her heauie thought,
Deuising by what meanes, what sleight, what art,
Her close departure should be safest wrought,
Assembled in her vnresolued hart,
An hundreth passions stroue and ceaselesse fought;
At last she saw high hanging on the wall
Clorindaes siluer armes, and sigh'd withall:
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82
And sighing, softly to her selfe she said,How blessed is this virgin in her might?
How I enuie the glorie of the maid,
Yet enuie not her shape or beauties light;
Her steps are not with trailing garments staid,
Nor chambers hide her valours shining bright;
But arm'd she rides, and breaketh sword and speare,
Nor is her strength restrain'd by shame or feare.
83
Alas, why did not heau'n these members fraile,With liuely force and vigor strengthen so?
That I this silken gowne, and slender vaile
Might for a brestplate, and an helme forgoe?
Then should not heat, nor cold, nor raine, nor haile,
Nor stormes that fall, nor blustring windes that bloe
Withhold me, but I would both day and night,
In pitched field, or priuate combat, fight.
84
Nor haddest thou Argantes, first begonneWith my deare Lord, that fierce and cruell fight,
But I to that encounter would haue ronne,
And, haply tane him captiue by my might;
Yet should he finde (our furious combat donne)
His thraldome easie, and his bondage light;
For fetters, mine embracements should he proue;
For diet, kisses sweet; for keeper, loue:
85
Or else my tender bosome opened wide,And hart through pearsed with his cruell blade,
The bloodie weapon in my wounded side
Might cure the wound, which loue before had made;
Then should my soule in rest and quiet slide
Downe to the valleies of th' Elisian shade,
And my mishap the knight perchance would moue,
To shed some teares vpon his murdred loue.
86
Alas! impossible are all these things,Such wishes vaine afflict my wofull spright,
Why yeeld I thus to plaints and sorrowings,
As if all hope and helpe were perisht quight?
My hart dares much, it soares with Cupids wings,
Why vse I not for once these armours bright?
I may sustaine a while this shield aloft,
Though I be tender, feeble, weake and soft.
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87
Loue, strong, bold, mightie, neuer-tired loue,Supplieth force to all his seruants trew;
The fearefull stags he doth to battaile moue,
Till each his hornes in others blood imbrew;
Yet meane not I the haps of war to proue,
A stratageme I haue deuised new,
Clorinda like in this faire harnesse dight,
I will escape out of the towne this night.
88
I know the men that haue the gate to ward,If she command dare not her will denie,
In what sort else could I beguile the gard?
This way is only left, this will I trie:
O gentle loue, in this aduenture hard
Thine handmaide guide, assist and fortifie!
The time, the howre now fitteth best the thing,
While stout Clorinda talketh with the king.
89
Resolued thus without delay she went,(As her strong passion did her rashly guide)
And those bright armes downe from the rafter hent,
Within her closet did she closely hide,
That might she doe vnseene; for she had sent
The rest, on sheeuelesse errands from her side,
And night her stealthes brought to their wished end,
Night, patronesse of theeues, and louers frend.
90
Some sparkling fires on heau'ns bright visage shone,His azure robe the orient blewnesse lost,
When she (whose wit and reason both were gone)
Call'd for a squire she lou'd and trusted most,
To whom and to a maid (a faithfull one)
Part of her will she told, how that in post
She would depart from Iudais king, and fain'd
That other cause her sudden flight constrain'd.
91
The trustie squire prouided needments meet,As for their iourney fitting most should bee;
Meane-while her vesture (pendant to her feet)
Erminia doft, as earst determin'd shee,
Stript to her petticote the virgin sweet,
So slender was, that wonder was to see;
Her handmaid readie at her mistresse will,
To arme her helpt, though simple were her skill.
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92
The rugged steele oppressed and offendedHer daintie necke, and locks of shining gold;
Her tender arme so feeble was, it bended
When that huge target it presum'de to hold,
The burnisht steele bright raies far off extended,
She faigned courage, and appeared bold;
Fast by her side vnseene smil'd Venus sonne,
As earst he laughed when Alcides sponne,
93
Oh, with what labour did her shoulders beareThat heauie burden, and how slow she went!
Her maid (to see that all the coasts were cleere)
Before her mistresse through the streetes was sent;
Loue gaue her courage, loue exiled feare,
Loue to her tired lims new vigor lent,
Till she approched where the squire abode,
There tooke they horse forthwith and forward rode.
94
Disguis'd they went, and by vnused waies,And secret pathes they stroue vnseene to gone,
Vntill the watch they meet, which sore affraies
These soldiers new, when swords and weapons shone;
Yet none to stop their iourney once assaies,
But place and passage yeelded euery one;
For that white armour and that helmet bright,
Were knowne and feared, in the darkest night.
95
Erminia (though some-deale she were dismaid)Yet went she on, and goodly count'nance bore,
She doubted least her purpose were bewraid,
Her too much boldnes she repented sore;
But now the gate her feare and passage staid,
The heedlesse porter she beguil'd therefore,
I am Clorinda, ope the gates she cride,
Where as the king commands, thus late I ride.
96
Her womans voice and termes all framed beene,Most like the speeches of the Princesse stout,
Who would haue thought on horsebacke to haue seene
That feeble damsell armed round about?
The porter her obei'd, and she (betweene
Her trustie squire and maiden) sallied out,
And through the secret dales they silent pas,
Where danger least, least feare, least perill was.
113
97
But when these faire aduentrers entred weareDeepe in a vale, Erminia staid her hast,
To be recall'd she had no cause to feare,
This formost hazard had she trimly past;
But dangers new (tofore vnseene) appeare,
New perils she descride, new doubts she cast.
The way that her desire to quiet brought,
More difficult now seem'd than earst she thought.
98
Armed to ride among her angrie foes,She now perceiu'd it were great ouersight,
Yet would she not (she thought) her selfe disclose,
Vntill she came before her chosen knight,
To him she purpos'd to present the rose
Pure, spotlesse, cleane, vntoucht of mortall wight,
She staid therefore, and in her thoughts more wise,
She call'd her squire, whom thus she gan aduise.
99
Thou must (quoth she) be mine ambassadore,Be wise, be carefull, true, and diligent,
Goe to the campe, present thy selfe before
The Prince Tancredie, wounded in his tent;
Tell him thy mistresse comes to cure his sore,
If he to grant her peace and rest consent,
Gainst whom fierce loue such cruell war hath reased,
So shall his wounds be cur'd, her torments eased.
100
And say, in him such hope and trust she hath,That in his powres she feares no shame nor scorne,
Tell him thus much, and what so ere he sath,
Vnfold no more, but make a quicke returne,
I (for this place is free from harme and scath)
Within this valley will meanewhile soiorne,
Thus spake the Princesse: and her seruant trew
To execute the charge imposed, flew;
101
And was receiu'd (he so discreetly wrought)First of the watch, that guarded in their place;
Before the wounded Prince, than was he brought:
Who heard his message kinde, with gentle grace,
Which told, he left him tossing in his thought
A thousand doubts, and turn'd his speedie pace
To bring his Ladie and his mistresse word,
She might be welcome to that courteous Lord.
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102
But she, impatient, to whose desireGreeuous and harmefull seem'd each little stay,
Recounts his steps, and thinks, now drawes he nire,
Now enters in, now speakes, now comes his way;
And that which greeu'd her most, the carefull squire
Lesse speedie seem'd, than ere before that day;
Lastly she forward rode with loue to guide,
Vntill the Christian tents at hand she spide.
103
Inuested in her starrie vaile, the nightIn her kinde armes embraced all this round,
The siluer moone from sea vprising bright
Spred frostie pearle on the canded ground:
And Cinthia like for beauties glorious light,
The loue-sicke Nymph threw glistring beames around,
And counsellors of her old loue, she made
Those vallies dumbe, that silence, and that shade.
104
Beholding then the campe (quoth she) O faireAnd castle-like pauilions, richly wrought!
From you how sweet me thinketh blowes the aire,
How comforts it my hart, my soule, my thought?
Through heau'ns faire grace from gulfe of sad despaire
My tossed barke, to port well nie is brought:
In you I seeke redresse for all my harmes,
Rest, midst your weapons; peace, amongst your armes.
105
Receiue me than and let me mercie finde,As gentle loue assureth me I shall,
Among you had I entertainment kinde,
When first I was the Prince Tancredies thrall:
I couet not (led by ambition blinde)
You should me in my fathers throne enstall,
Might I but serue in you my Lord so deare,
That my content, my ioy, my comfort weare.
106
Thus parled she (poore soule) and neuer fearedThe sudden blow of fortunes cruell spight,
She stood where Phebes splendant beame appeared
Vpon her siluer armour double bright,
The place about her round the shining cleered,
Of that pure white wherein the Nymph was dight:
The Tigresse great (that on her helmet laid)
Bore witnes where she went, and where she staid.
115
107
(So as her fortune would) a Christian bandTheir secret ambush there had closely framed,
Led by two brothers of Italia land,
Yong Polipherne and Alicandro named,
These with their forces watched to withstand
Those that brought vittailes to their foes vntamed,
And kept that passage; them Erminia spide,
And fled as fast as her swift steed could ride.
108
But Polipherne (before whose watrie eies,His aged father strong Clorinda slew)
When that bright sheeld and siluer helme he spies,
The Championesse he thought he saw and knew;
Vpon his hidden mates for aide he cries,
Gainst his supposed foe, and forth he flew,
As he was rash, and heedlesse in his wrath,
Bending his lance, thou art but dead he sath.
109
As when a chased hinde her course doth bendTo seeke by soile to finde some ease or good,
Whether from craggie rocke the spring descend,
Or softly glide within the shadie wood;
If there the dogs she meet, where late she wend
To comfort her weake lims in cooling flood,
Againe she flies swift as she fled at first,
Forgetting weaknesse, wearinesse, and thirst.
110
So she, that thought to rest her wearie spright,And quench the endlesse thirst of ardent loue,
With deare embracements of her Lord and knight,
But such as marriage rites should first approue,
When she beheld her foe with weapon bright
Threat'ning her death, his hastie courser moue,
Her loue, her Lord, her selfe abandoned,
She spurr'd her speedie steed, and swift she fled.
111
Erminia fled, scantly the tender grasseHer Pegasus with his light footesteps bent,
Her maidens beast for speed did likewise passe;
Yet diuers waies (such was their feare) they went:
The squire who all too late return'd (alas)
With tardie newes from Prince Tancredies tent,
Fled likewise, when he saw his mistresse gone,
It booted not to soiourne there alone.
116
112
But Alicandro wiser than the rest,Who this suppos'd Clorinda saw likewise,
To follow her yet was he nothing prest,
But in his ambush still and close he lies,
A messenger to Godfrey he addrest,
That should him of this accident aduise,
How that his brother chas'd with naked blade
Clorindas selfe, or else Clorindas shade:
113
Yet that it was, or that it could be she,He had small cause or reason to suppose,
Occasion great and weightie must it be,
Should make her ride by night among her foes:
What Godfrey willed that obserued he,
And with his soldiers lay in ambush close:
These newes through all the Christian armie went,
In euerie cabbin talkt, and euerie tent.
114
Tancred, whose thoughts the squire had fild with doubt,By his sweet words, suppos'd now, hearing this,
Alas, the virgin came to seeke me out,
And for my sake her life in danger is;
Himselfe foorthwith he singled from the rout,
And rode in haste, though halfe his armes he mis,
Among those sandie fields and valleis greene,
To seeke his loue, he gallopte fast vnseene.
| Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The Recouerie of Ierusalem | |