University of Virginia Library

previous section Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The Recouerie of Ierusalem
next section

The twelfth Booke of Godfrey of Bulloigne.

213

The argument.

Clorinda heares her Eunuch old report
Her birth, her ofspring, and her natiue land;
Disguis'd she fireth Godfreys rolling fort,
The burned peece falles smoking on the sand:
With Tancred long vnknowne in desp'rate sort
She fights, and falles through pearsed with his brand:
Christned she dies; with sighes, with plaints, and teares,
He wailes her death; Argant reuengement sweares.

1

Now in darke night was all the world imbard;
But yet the tired armies tooke no rest,
The carefull French kept heedfull watch and ward,
While their high towre the workemen newly drest,
The Pagan crew to reinforce prepar'd
The weak'ned bulwarks, late to earth downe kest,
Their rampires broke and brused walles to mend,
Lastly their hurts the wounded knights attend.

2

Their wounds were drest; part of the worke was brought
To wished end, part left to other daies,
A dull desire to rest deepe midnight wrought,
His heauie rod sleepe on their eye-lids laies:
Yet rested not Clorindaes working thought,
Which thirsted still for fame and warlike praise,
Argantes eeke accompaned the maid,
From place to place, which to her selfe thus said:

3

This day Argantes strong and Soliman
Strange things haue done, and purchast great renowne,
Among our foes out of the walles they ran,
Their rammes they broke and rent their engins downe;
I vs'd my bow, of nought else boast I can,
My selfe stood safe meane-while within this towne,
And happie was my shot and prosprous too,
But that was all a womans hand could doo.

4

On birds and beastes in forrests wilde that feed,
It were more fit mine arrowes to bestow,
Than for a feeble maid in warlike deed,
With strong and hardie knights her selfe to show,
Why take I not againe my virgins weed?
And spend my daies in secret cell vnknow?
Thus thought, thus mused, thus deuis'd the maid,
And turning to the knight, at last thus said:
214

5

My thoughts are full (my Lord) of strange desire,
Some high attempt of warre to vndertake,
Whether high God my minde therewith inspire,
Or of his will his God mankind doth make,
Among our foes behold the light and fire,
I will among them wend and burne or brake
The towre, God grant therein I haue my will,
And that perform'd, betide me good or ill.

6

But if it fortune such my chance should bee,
That to this towne I neuer turne againe,
Mine Eunuch (whom I deerely loue) with thee
I leaue, my faithfull maides, and all my traine,
To Egypt then conducted safely see
Those wofull damsels, and that aged swaine,
Helpe them (my Lord) in that distressed case,
Their feeble sex, his age deserueth grace.

7

Argantes wondring stood, and felt th' effect
Of true renowne peirce through his glorious minde,
And wilt thou go (quoth he) and me neglect,
Disgras'd, despis'd, leaue in this fort behind?
Shall I while these strong wals my life protect,
Behold thy flames and fires tost in the wind,
No, no, thy fellow haue I beene in armes,
And will be still, in praise, in death, in harmes:

8

This hart of mine deaths bitter stroke despiseth,
For praise this life, for glory take this breath,
My soule the more (quoth she) thy friendship priseth,
For this thy profer'd aid requir'd vneath,
I but a woman am, no losse ariseth
To this besieged citie by my death,
But if (as Gods forbid) this night thou fall,
Ah who shall then, who can, defend this wall?

9

Too late these scuces vaine (the knight replide)
You bring, my will is firme, my minde is set,
I follow you where so you list me guide,
Or go before if you my purpose let.
This said, they hasted to the pallace wide
About their prince where all his Lords were met,
Clorinda spoke for both, and said, sir king,
Attend my words, heare; and allow the thing:
215

10

Argantes here this bold and hardie knight,
Will vndertake to burne the wondrous towre,
And I with him, only we stay till night
Burie in sleepe our foes at deadest howre.
The king with that cast vp his hands on hight,
The teares for ioy vpon his cheekes downe powre,
Praised (quoth he) be Macon whom we serue,
This land I see he keepes and will preserue:

11

Nor shall so soone this shaken kingdome fall,
While such vnconquer'd harts my state defend:
But for this act what praise or guerdon shall
I giue your vertues, which so far extend?
Let fame your praises sound through nations all,
And fill the world therewith to either end,
Take halfe my wealth and kingdome for your meed?
You are rewarded halfe eu'n with the deed.

12

Thus spake the Prince, and gently gan distraine
Now him, now her, betweene his friendly armes:
The Soldan by, no longer could refraine
That noble enuie which his bosome warmes,
Nor I (quoth he) beare this broad sword in vaine,
Nor yet vnexpert am in night alarmes,
Take me with you: ah (quoth Clorinda) noe!
Whom leaue we here of prowesse if you goe?

13

This spoken, readie with a proud refuse
Argantes was his proffred aid to scorne,
Whom Aladine preuents, and with excuse
To Soliman thus gan his speeches torne:
Right noble Prince, as aie hath beene your vse,
Your selfe so still you beare and long haue borne,
Bold in all actes, no danger can affright
Your hart, nor tired is your strength with fight:

14

If you went forth great things performe you would,
In my conceit yet far vnfit it seames,
That you (who most excell in courage bould)
At once should leaue this towne in these extreames,
Nor would I that these twaine should leaue this hould,
My hart their noble liues far worthier deames,
If this attempt of lesse importance weare,
Or weaker postes so great a weight could beare.
216

15

But for well garded is the mightie towre
With hardie troupes and squadrons round about,
And cannot harmed be with little powre,
Nor fits the time to send whole armies out,
This paire, who past haue many a dreadfull stowre,
And proffer now to proue this venture stout,
Alone to this attempt let them goe forth,
Alone then thousands of more price and worth.

16

Thou (as it best beseemes a mightie king)
With readie bands beside the gate attend,
That when this couple haue perform'd the thing,
And shall againe their footsteps homeward bend,
From their strong foes vpon them following
Thou maist them keepe, preserue, saue and defend:
Thus said the king, the Soldan must consent,
Silent remain'd the Turke, and discontent.

17

Then Ismen said, you twaine that vndertake
This hard attempt, a while I pray you stay,
Till I a wilde-fire of fine temper make,
That this great engin burne to ashes may;
Haply the garde 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 aduenture fit.

18

Clorinda there her siluer armes off rent
Her helme, her shield, her hawberke shining bright,
An armour blacke as ieat or cole she hent,
Wherein withouten plume her selfe she dight;
For thus disguis'd amid her foes she ment
To passe vnseene, by helpe of friendly night,
To whom her Eunuch old Arsetes came,
That from her cradle nurst and kept the Dame.

19

This aged fire had follow'd far and neare
(Through lands and seas) the strong and hardie maid,
He saw her leaue her armes and wonted geare,
Her danger nie that sodaine change foresaid:
By his white lockes from blacke that changed weare
In following her, the wofull man her praid,
By all his seruice and his taken paine,
To leaue that fond attempt, but praid in vaine.
217

20

At last (quoth he) since hardn'd to thine ill,
Thy cruell hart is to thy losse prepar'd,
That my weake age, nor teares that downe distill,
Nor humble suit, nor plaint, thou list regard;
Attend a while, strange things vnfold I will,
Heare both thy birth and high estate declar'd;
Follow my counsell or thy will, that donne,
She fit to heare, the Eunuch thus begonne:

21

Senapus rul'd, and yet perchance doth raine
In mightie Ethiope and her desarts waste,
The lore of Christ both he and all his traine
Of people blacke, hath kept and long imbraste,
To him a Pagan was I sold for gaine,
And with his queene (as her cheefe Eunuch) plaste;
Blacke was this queene as ieat, yet on her eies
Sweet louelinesse (in blacke attired) lies.

22

The fire of loue and frost of iealousie
Her husbands troubled soule alike torment,
The tide of fond suspition flowed hie,
The foe to loue and plague to sweet content,
He mew'd her vp from sight of mortall eie,
Nor day he would his beames on her had bent:
She (wise and lowly) by her husbands pleasure,
Her ioy, her peace, her will, her wish did measure.

23

Her prison was a chamber, painted round
With goodly purtraites and with stories old,
As white as snow there stood a virgin bound,
Besides a dragon fierce, a champion bold
The monster did with poinant speare through wound,
The gored beast lay dead vpon the mold;
The gentle queene before this image laid,
She plain'd, she mourn'd, she wept, she sigh'd, she praid:

24

At last with childe she prou'd, and forth she brought
(And thou art she) a daughter faire and bright,
In her thy colour white new terrour wrought,
She wondred on thy face with strange affright,
But yet she purpos'd in her fearefull thought
To hide thee from the king thy fathers sight,
Least thy bright hew should his suspect approue,
For seld a crow begets a siluer doue.
218

25

And to her spouse to shew she was dispos'd
A Negrose babe, late borne, in roome of thee,
And for the towre wherein she lay enclos'd,
Was with her damsels onely wond and mee,
To me, on whose true faith she most repos'd,
Shee gaue thee, ere thou couldest christned bee,
Nor could I since finde meanes thee to baptise,
In Pagan lands thou know'st its not the guise.

26

To me she gaue thee, and she wept withall,
To foster thee in some far distant place,
Who can her griefes and plaints to reck'ning call,
How oft she swouned at the last imbrace?
Her streaming teares amid her kisses fall,
Her sighes, her dire complaints did enterlace:
And looking vp at last, O God (quoth shee)
Who dost my hart and inward mourning see,

27

If minde and bodie spotlesse to this day,
If I haue kept my bed still vndefilde,
(Not for my selfe a sinfull wretch I pray,
That in thy presence am an abiect vilde)
Preserue this babe, whose mother must denay
To nourish it, preserue this harmelesse childe,
Oh let it liue, and chast like me it make,
But for good fortune elsewhere sample take.

28

Thou heau'nly souldier which deliu'red hast
That sacred virgin from the serpent old,
If on thine Altars I haue offrings plast,
And sacrifis'd Myrrhe, Frankinscence and gold,
On this poore childe thy heau'nly lookes downe cast,
With gratious eie this seelie babe behold,
This said, her strength and liuing sprite was fled,
She sigh'd, she groan'd, she swouned in her bed.

29

Weeping I tooke thee, in a little chest,
Cou'red with herbes and leaues, I brought thee out
So secretly, that none of all the rest
Of such an acte suspition had or dout,
To wildernesse my steps I first addrest,
Where horride shades enclos'd me round about,
A tygresse there I met, in whose fierce eies
Furie and wrath, rage, death and terrour lies:
219

30

Vp to a tree I leapt, and on the grasse
(Such was my sodaine feare) I left thee lying,
To thee the beast with furious course did passe,
With curious lookes vpon thy visage prying,
All sodainly both meeke and milde she was,
With friendly cheere thy tender body eying,
At last she lickt thee, and with gesture milde
About thee plai'd, and thou vpon her smilde.

31

Her fearefull muzle full of dreadfull threat
In thy weake hand thou took'st withouten dreed,
The gentle beast with milke out stretched teat;
(As nurses custome) proffred thee to feed,
As one that wondreth on some maruaile great,
I stood this while amazed at the deed,
When thee she saw well fild and satisfied
Vnto the woods againe the tygresse hied.

32

She gone, downe from the tree I came in hast,
And tooke thee vp and on my iourney 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 terme of sixteene monthes were brought to end,
And thou begonne (as little children doe)
With halfe clipt words to prattle, and to goe.

33

But hauing past the August of mine age,
When more than halfe my tap of life was ronne,
Rich by rewards giuen by your mother sage
For merits past, and seruice yet vndonne,
I long'd to leaue this wandring pilgrimage,
And in my natiue soile againe to wonne,
To get some seely home I had desire,
Loth still to warme me at anothers fire:

34

To Egypt ward (where I was borne) I went,
And bore thee with me, by a rolling flood
Till I with sauage theeues well nie was hent,
Before, the brooke; the theeues, behinde me stood:
Thee to forsake I neuer could consent,
And gladly, would I scape those outlawes wood,
Into the flood I leapt far from the brim,
My left hand bore thee, with the right I swim.
220

35

Swift was the currant, in the middle streame
A whirlpoole gaped with deuouring iawes,
The gulph (on such mishap ere I could dreame)
Into his deepe abysse my carkasse drawes,
There I forsooke thee, the wilde waters seame
To pitie thee, a gentle winde there blowes,
Whose friendly puffes safe to the shore thee driue,
Where wet and wearie I at last arriue:

36

I tooke thee vp and in my dreame that night
(When buried was the world in sleepe and shade)
I saw a champion clad in armour bright,
That ore my head shaked a flaming blade,
He said I charge thee execute aright
That charge this enfants mother on thee laid,
Baptise the childe, high heau'n esteemes her deare,
And I her keeper will attend her neare:

37

I will her keepe, defend, saue and protect,
I made the waters milde, the tygresse tame,
O wretch that heau'nly warnings dost reiect!
The warriour vanisht hauing said the same.
I rose and iournayd on my way direct,
When blushing morne Tithons bed foorth came,
But for my faith is true and sure I weene,
And dreames are false, you still vnchristened beene.

38

A Pagan therefore thee I fostred haue,
Nor of thy birth the truth did euer tell,
Since you encreased are in courage braue,
Your sexe and natures selfe you both excell,
Full many a realme haue you made bond and slaue,
Your fortunes last your selfe remember well,
And how in peace and warre, in ioy and teene,
I haue your seruant, and your tutor beene.

39

Last morne, from skies erie stars exiled weare,
In deepe and deathlike sleepe my senses dround,
The selfesame vision did againe appeare,
With stormy wrathfull lookes, and thundring sound,
Villaine (quoth he) within short while thy deare
Must change her life, and leaue this sinfull ground,
Thine be the losse, the torment and the caire,
This said, he fled through skies, through cloudes & aire.
221

40

Heare then my ioy, my hope, my darling, heare
High heau'n some dire misfortune threatned hath,
Displeasd pardie, because I did thee leare
A lore, repugnant to thy parents faith;
Ah, for my sake, this bold attempt forbeare;
Put off these sable armes, appease thy wrath.
This said, he wept, she pensiue stood and sad,
Because like dreame herselfe but lately had.

41

With cheerefull smile she answer'd him at last,
I will this faith obserue, it seemes me true,
Which from my cradle age thou taught me hast;
I will not change it for religion new,
Nor with vaine shewes of feare and dreed agast,
This enterprise forbeare I to pursew,
No, not if death in his most dreadfull face
Wherewith he scareth mankind, kept the place.

42

Approchen gan the time (while thus she spake)
Wherein they ought that dreadfull hazard trie,
She to Argantes went, who should partake
Of her renowne and praise, or with her die.
Ismen with words more hastie still did make
Their vertue great, which by it selfe did flie,
Two balles he gaue them made of hollow bras,
Wherein enclos'd fire, pitch and brimston was.

43

And foorth they went, and ouer dale and hill
They hasted forward with a speedie pace,
Vnseene, vnmarked, vndeseride, vntill
Beside the engine close themselues they place,
New courage there their swelling harts did fill,
Rage in their breasts, furie shone in their face,
They earnd to blow the fire, and draw the sword,
The watch descride them both, and gaue the word.

44

Silent they passed on, the watch begonne
To reare a huge alarme with hideous cries,
Therewith the hardie couple forward ronne
To execute their valiant enterpries;
So from a cannon or a roaring gonne
At once the noise, the flame and bullet flies,
They runne, they giue the charge, begin the fray,
And all at once their foes breake, spoile and slay.
222

45

They passed first through thousand thousand blowes,
And then performed their designment bould,
A firie ball each on the engin throwes,
The stuffe was drie, the fire tooke quickely hould,
Furious vpon the timber worke it growes,
How it encreased cannot well be tould,
How it crept vp the peice, and how to skies
The burning sparkes, and towring smoake vp-flies.

46

A masse of sollid fier burning bright
Roll'd vp in smouldring fumes there brusteth out,
And there the blustring winds adde strength and might,
And gather close the sparsed flames about:
The Frenchmen trembled at the dreadfull light,
To armes in haste and feare ran all the rout,
Downe fell the peice dreaded so much in warre,
Thus, what long daies doth make, one houre doth marre.

47

Two christian bands, this while came to the place
With speedie haste, where they beheld the fire,
Argantes to them cride, with scornfull grace,
Your bloud shall quench these flames and quench mine ire:
This said, the maide and he with sober pace
Drew backe, and to the banke themselues retire,
Faster then brookes which falling showres encrease,
Their foes augment, and faster on them prease.

48

The guilden port was opened, and foorth stept
With all his souldiers bould, the Turkish king,
Readie to aide them two his force he kept,
When Fortune should them home with conquest bring,
Ouer the barres the hardie couple lept,
And after them a band of Christians fling,
Whom Soliman droue backe with courage stout,
And shut the gate but shut Clorinda out.

49

Alone was she shut foorth, for in that howre
Wherein they clos'd the port, the virgin went
And full of heat and wrath, her strength and powre
Gainst Arimon (that stroake her earst) shee bent,
Shee slew the knight, nor Argant in that stowre
Wist of her parting, or her fierce entent,
The fight, the prease, the night and darksome skies,
Care from his hart had tane, sight from his eies.
223

50

But when appeased was her angrie moode,
Her furie calm'd, and setled was her head,
She saw the gates were shut, and how shee stoode
Amid her foes, she held her selfe for dead;
While none her markt, at last she thought it good
To saue her life some other path to tread,
She feign'd her one of them, and close her drew
Amid the prease that none her sawe nor knew:

51

Then as a wolfe guiltie of some misdeed
Flies to some groue to hide himselfe from vew,
So fauour'd with the night, with secret speed
Disseured from the prease the damsell flew:
Tancred alone of her escape tooke heed,
He on that quarter was arriued new,
When Arimon she kild, he thither came,
He sawe it, markt it, and pursu'd the dame,

52

He deem'd she was some man of mickle might,
And on her person would he worship win,
Ouer the hilles the nimph her iourney dight
Towards another port, there to get in:
With hideous noise fast after spurr'd the knight,
She heard and staide, and thus her words begin,
What haste hast thou? ride softly, take thy breath,
What bringest thou? he answerd, warre and death.

53

And warre and death (quoth she) heere maist thou get
If thou for battle come, with that she staid:
Tancred to ground his foote in haste downe set,
And left his stead, on foote he saw the maid,
Their courage hot, their ire and wrath they whet,
And either champion drew a trenchant blaid,
Togither ran they, and togither stroke,
Like two fierce buls, whom rage and loue prouoke.

54

Woorthie of royall listes and brightest day,
Woorthie a golden trompe and lawrell crowne,
The actions were and woonders of that fray,
Which sable night did in darke bosome drowne:
Yet night, consent that I their actes display,
And make their deeds to future ages knowne,
And in records of long enduring storie,
Enroll their praise, their fame, their woorth & glorie.
224

55

They neither shrunke, nor vantage sought of ground,
They trauerst not, nor skipt from part to part,
Their blowes were neither false nor faigned found,
The night, their rage, would let them vse no art,
Their swords togither clash with dreadfull sound,
Their feete stand fast, and neither stir nor start,
They moue their hands, stedfast their feete remaine,
Nor blow nor foine they stroake or thrust in vaine.

56

Shame bred desire a sharpe reuenge to take,
And veng'ance taken gaue new cause of shame:
So that with haste and little heed they strake,
Fuell enough they had to feed the flame,
At last so close their battell fierce they make,
They could not weild their swords, so nie they came,
They vs'd the hilts, and each on other rusht,
And helme to helme, and shield to shield they crusht.

57

Thrice his strong armes he fouldes about her waste,
And thrice was forst to let the virgine goe,
For she disdained to be so embraste,
No louer would haue strain'd his mistresse soe:
They tooke their swords againe, and each enchaste
Deepe wounds in the soft flesh of his strong foe,
Till weake and wearie, faint, aliue vneath,
They both retirde at once, at once tooke breath;

58

Each other long beheild, and leaning stood
Vpon their swords, whose points in earth were pight,
When day breake rising from the Eastren flood
Put forth the thousand eies of blindfold night,
Tancred beheild his foes out streaming blood,
And gaping wounds, and waxt proud with the sight,
O vanitie of mans vnstable minde,
Puft vp with euerie blast of friendly winde!

95

Why ioi'st thou wretch? O what shall be thy gaine?
What trophie for this conquest ist, thou reares?
Thine eies shall shed (in ease thou be not slaine)
For euerie drop of blood a sea of teares:
The bleeding warriours leaning thus remaine,
Each one to speake one word long time forbeares,
Tancred the silence broake at last, and said,
(For he would know with whom this fight he maid:)
225

60

Euill is our chance, and hard our fortune is,
Who here in silence and in shade debate,
Where light of sunne and witnes all we mis,
That should our prowesse and our praise dilate:
If words in armes finde place, yet grant me this,
Tell me thy name, thy countrey and estate,
That I may know (this dang'rous combate donne)
Whom I haue conquerd, or who hath me wonne.

61

What I nill tell, you aske (quoth she) in vaine,
Nor mou'd by praier, nor constraind by powre,
But thus much know, I am one of those twaine
Which late with kindled fire destroi'd the towre.
Tancred at her proud words sweld with disdaine,
That hast thou said (quoth he) in euill howre,
Thy vaunting speeches, and thy silence both,
(Vnciuill wretch) hath made my hart more wroth.

62

Ire in their chafed breasts renew'd the fray,
Fierce was the fight, though feeble were their might,
Their strength was goue, their cunning was away,
And furie in their stead maintain'd the fight,
Their swords both points and edges sharpe embay
In purple bloud, where so they hit or light,
And if weake life yet in their bosomes lie,
They liu'd bicause they both disdain'd to die.

63

As Egeans seas when stormes be calm'd againe,
That roll'd their tumbling waues with troublous blasts,
Do yet of tempests past some shewes retaine
And here and there their swelling billowes casts;
So, though their strength were gone, and might were vaine,
Of their first fiercenes still the furie lasts,
Wherewith sustain'd, they to their tackling stood,
And heaped wound on wound, and blood on blood.

64

But now alas, the fatall howre arriues,
That her sweete life must leaue that tender hold,
His sword into her bosome deepe he driues,
And bath'd in lukewarme blood his iron cold,
Betweene her brests the cruell weapon riues
Her curious square, embost with swelling gold,
Her knees grow weake, the paines of death she feeles,
And like a falling Cedar bends and reeles.
226

65

The Prince his hand vpon her shield doth streach,
And low on earth the wounded damsell laith,
And while she fell, with weake and woefull speach,
Her praiers last, and last complaints she saith,
A spirit new did her those praiers teach,
Spirit of hope, of charitie, and faith;
And though her life to Christ rebellious weare,
Yet died she his childe and handmaide deare.

66

Friend thou hast wonne, I pardon thee, nor saue
This bodie, that all torments can endure,
But saue my soule, baptisme I dying craue,
Come wash away my sinnes with waters pure:
His hart relenting nigh insunder raue,
With woefull speech of that sweete creature,
So that his rage, his wrath and anger dide,
And on his cheekes salt teares for ruthe downe slide.

67

With murmur lowd downe from the mountaines side
A little runnell tumbled neere the place,
Thither he ran and fild his helmet wide,
And quicke return'd to do that worke of grace,
With trembling hands her beauer he vntide,
Which done he saw, and seeing, knew her face,
And lost therewith his speech and moouing quight,
O woefull knowledge, ah vnhappie sight!

68

He died not, but all his strength vnites,
And to his vertues gaue his hart in gard,
Brideling his greefe, with water he requites
The life, that he bereft with iron hard;
And while the sacred words the knight recites,
The Nymphe to heau'n with ioy her selfe prepard;
And as her life decaies, her ioyes encrease,
She smild and said, farewell, I die in peace.

69

As Violets blew mongst Lillies pure men throw,
So palenes midst her natiue white begonne.
Her lookes to heau'n she cast, their eies I trow
Downeward for pitie bent both heau'n and sunne,
Her naked hand she gaue the knight, in show
Of loue and peace, her speech (alas) was donne,
And thus the virgin fell on endlesse sleepe,
Loue, beautie, vertue, for your darling weepe.
227

70

But when he saw her gentle soule was went,
His manly courage to relent began,
Greefe, sorrow, anguish, sadnes, discontent,
Free empire got, and lordship on the man,
His life within his hart they close vp pent,
Death through his senses and his visage ran:
Like his dead Ladie, dead seem'd Tancred good,
In palenesse, stilnesse, wounds and streames of blood.

71

And his weake sprite (to be vnbodied
From fleshly prison free that ceaselesse striued)
Had follow'd her faire soule but lately fled,
Had not a Christian squadron there arriued,
To seeke fresh water thither haply led,
And found the Princesse dead, and him depriued
Of signes of life, yet did the knight remaine
On liue, nigh dead, for her himselfe had slaine.

72

Their guide far off the Prince knew by his shield,
And thither hasted full of greefe and feare,
Her dead, him seeming so, he there behield,
And for that strange mishap shed many a teare;
He would not leaue the corses faire in field
For food to wolues, though she a Pagan weare,
But in their armes the soldiers both vphent,
And both lamenting brought to Tancreds tent:

73

With those deere burthens to their campe they passe,
Yet would not that dead seeming knight awake,
At last he deepely groan'd, which token was
His feeble soule had not her flight yet take:
The other lay a still and heauie masse,
Her spirit had that earthen cage forsake,
Thus were they brought, and thus they placed weare
In sundry roomes, yet both adioyning neare.

74

All skill and art his carefull seruants vsed
To life againe their dying Lord to bring,
At last his eies vnclos'd, with teares suffused,
He felt their hands and heard their whispering,
But how he thither came long time he mused,
His minde astonisht was with euery thing;
He gaz'd about, his squires in fine he knew,
Then weake and wofull thus his plaints our threw:
228

75

What liue I yet? and doe I breathe and see
Of this accursed day the hatefull light?
This spitefull ray which still vpbraideth mee
With that accursed deed, I did this night,
Ah coward hand! affraid why shouldst thou bee?
(Thou instrument of death, shame and despite)
Why shouldst thou feare, with sharp & trenchant knife,
To cut the threed of this blood-guiltie life?

76

Pierce through this bosome, and my cruell hart
In peeces cleaue, breake euery string and vaine;
But thou to slaughters vile which vsed art,
Think'st it were pitie so to ease my paine:
Of lucklesse loue therefore in torments smart,
A sad example must I still remaine,
A wofull monster of vnhappie loue,
Who still must liue, least death his comfort proue:

77

Still must I liue in anguish, griefe and caire,
Furies my guiltie conscience that torment,
The ougly shades, darke night, and troubled aire
In grisly formes her slaughter still present,
Madnes and death about my bed repaire,
Hell gapeth wide to swallow vp this tent;
Swift from my selfe I ronne, my selfe I feare,
Yet still my hell within my selfe I beare:

78

But where (alas) where be those reliques sweet,
Wherein dwelt late all loue, all ioy, all good?
My furie left them cast in open street,
Some beast hath torne her flesh and lickt her blood,
Ah noble pray! for sauage beast vnmeet,
Ah sweet! too sweet, and far too pretious food,
Ah seely Nymph! whom night and darksome shade
To beasts, and me (far worse than beasts) betrade.

79

But where you be, if still you be, I wend
To gather vp those reliques deere at least,
But if some beast hath from the hils descend,
And on her tender bowels made his feast,
Let that selfe monster me in peeces rend,
And deepe entombe me in his hollow cheast:
For where she buried is, there shall I haue
A stately tombe, a rich and costly graue.
229

80

Thus mourn'd the knight, his squires him told at last,
They had her there for whom those teares he shed;
A beame of comfort his dim eies out cast,
Like lightning through thicke cloudes of darknes spred,
The heauie burthen of his lims in hast
With mickle paine, he drew forth of his bed,
And scant of strength to stand, to moue or goe,
Thither he staggred, reeling to and froe:

81

When he came there, and in her brest espide
(His handiworke) that deepe and cruell wound,
And her sweet face with leaden palenesse dide,
Where beautie late spred forth her beames around,
He trembled so, that nere his squires beside
To hold him vp, he had sunke downe to ground,
And said, O face in death still sweet and faire!
Thou canst not sweeten yet my greefe and caire:

82

O faire right hand, the pledge of faith and loue!
Giuen me but late, too late, in signe of peace,
How haps it now thou canst not stir nor moue?
And you deere lims now laid in rest and ease,
Through which my cruell blade this flood-gate roue,
Your paines haue end, my torments neuer cease,
O hands! O cruell eies accurst alike!
You gaue the wound, you gaue them light to strike.

83

But thither now ronne forth my guiltie blood,
Whither my plaints, my sorrowes cannot wend,
He said no more, but, as his passion wood
Enforced him, he gan to teare and rend
His haire, his face, his wounds, a purple flood
Did from each side in rolling streames descend,
He had beene slaine, but that his paine and woe
Bereft his senses, and preseru'd him soe.

84

Cast on his bed his squires recall'd his spright,
To execute againe her hatefull charge,
But tattling fame the sorrowes 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 dutie would discharge
Of friendship true, and with sweet words the rage
Of bitter greefe and woe, they would asswage.
230

85

But as a mortall wound the more doth smart
The more it searched is, handled or sought;
So their sweete words to his afflicted hart
More griefe, more anguish, paine and torment brought:
But reuerend Peter that nould set apart
Care of his sheepe, as a good sheepheard ought,
His vanitie with graue aduise reprooued,
And told what mourning Christian knights behooued:

86

O Tancred, Tancred, how farre different
From thy beginnings good these follies bee?
What makes thee deafe? what hath thy eiesight blent?
What mist, what cloud thus ouershadeth thee?
This is a warning good from heau'n downe sent,
(Yet his aduise thou canst not heare nor see)
Who calleth and conducts thee to the way,
From which thou willing dost and witting stray:

87

To woorthie actions and atchiuements fit
For Christian knights, he would thee home recall;
But thou hast left that course and changed it,
To make thy selfe a heathen damsels thrall;
But see, thy griefe and sorrowes painefull fit
Is made the rod to scourge thy sinnes withall,
Of thine owne good thy selfe the meanes he makes,
But thou his mercy, goodnes, grace forsakes.

88

Thou dost refuse of heau'n the profred grace,
And gainst it still rebell with sinfull ire,
O wretch! O whither doth thy rage thee chace?
Refraine thy griefe, bridle thy fond desire,
At hels wide gate vaine sorrow doth thee place,
Sorrow, misfortunes sonne, despaires foule sire:
O see thine euill, thy plaint and woe refraine,
The guides to death, to hell, and endlesse paine.

89

This said, his will to die the patient
Abandoned, that second death he feared,
These words of comfort to his hart downe went,
And that darke night of sorrow somewhat cleared;
Yet now and then his griefe deepe sighes foorth sent,
His voice shrill plaints and sad laments oft reared,
Now to himselfe, now to his murdred loue,
He spoke, who heard perchance from heau'n aboue.
231

90

Till Phœbus rising from his euening fall
To her, for her, he mournes, he cals, he cries;
The nightingall so when her children small
Some churle takes before their parents eies,
Alone, dismaid, quite bare of comforts all,
Tires with complaints the seas, the shores, the skies,
Till in sweete sleepe against the morning bright
She fall at last; so mourn'd, so slept the knight.

91

And clad in starrie vale amid his dreame,
(For whose sweete sake he mourn'd) appeard the maid,
Fairer than earst, yet with that heau'nly beame,
Not out of knowledge was her louely shaid,
With lookes of ruth, her eies celestiall seame
To pitie his sad plight, and thus she said,
Behold how faire, how glad thy loue appeares,
And for my sake (my deare) forbeare these teares.

92

Thine be the thankes, my soule thou madest flit
At vnawares out of her earthly nest,
Thine be the thankes thou hast aduanced it
In Abrahams deare bosome long to rest,
There still I loue thee, there for Tancred fit
A seat prepared is, among the blest;
There in eternall ioy eternall light,
Thou shalt thy loue enioy, and she her knight:

93

Vnlesse thy selfe, thy selfe heau'ns ioies enuie,
And thy vaine sorrow thee of blisse depriue,
Liue, know I loue thee, that I nill denie,
As angels, men; as saints may wights on liue:
This said, of zeale and loue foorth of her eie
An hundreth glorious beames bright shining driue,
Amid which raies her selfe she clos'd from sight,
And with new ioy, new comfort left her knight.

94

Thus comforted he wakt, and men discreet
In surgerie to cure his wounds were sought,
Meane-while of his deare loue the reliques sweet
(As best he could) to graue with pompe he brought:
Her tombe was not of viride Spartane greet,
Nor yet by cunning hand of Scopas wrought,
But built of polisht stone, and thereon laid
The liuely shape and purtrait of the maid.
232

95

With sacred burning lamps in order long
And mournfull pompe the corps were brought to ground,
Her armes vpon a leauelesse pine were hong,
The herse, with cypresse; armes, with lawrell crown'd:
Next day the Prince (whose loue and courage strong
Drew foorth his limmes, weake, feeble and vnsound)
To visite went, with care and reu'rence meet,
The buried ashes of his mistresse sweet:

96

Before her new made tombe at last arriued,
The wofull prison of his liuing spright,
Pale, cold, sad, comfortlesse, of sense depriued,
Vpon the marble gray he fixt his sight,
Two streames of teares were from his eies deriued:
Thus with a sad alas, began the knight,
Oh marble deare on my deare mistresse plast!
My flames within, without my teares thou hast.

97

Not of dead bones art thou the mournfull graue,
But of quicke loue the fortresse and the hold,
Still in my hart thy woonted brands I haue
More bitter farre (alas) but not more cold,
Receaue these sighes, these kisses sweete recaue,
In liquid drops of melting teares enrold,
And giue them to that bodie pure and chast
Which in thy bosome cold entombd thou hast.

98

For if her happie soule her eie doth bend
On that sweet body which it lately drest,
My loue, thy pittie, cannot her offend,
Anger and wrath is not in angels blest,
She pardon will the trespasse of her frend,
That hope relieues me with these griefes opprest,
This hand she knowes hath onely sinn'd, not I,
Who liuing lou'd her, and for loue now die:

99

And louing will I die, O happie day
When ere it chanceth! but O farre more blest
If as about thy polisht sides I stray,
My bones within thy hollow graue might rest,
Togither should in heau'n our spirits stay,
Togither should our bodies lie in chest;
So happie death should ioyne, what life doth seuer,
O death, O life! sweete both, both blessed euer.
233

100

Meanewhile the newes in that besieged towne
Of this mishap was whispred here and there,
Foorthwith it spred, and for too true was knowne,
Her wofull losse was talked euery where,
Mingled with cries and plaints to heau'n vp throwne,
As if the cities selfe new taken were
With conqu'ring foes, or as if flame and fire,
Nor house nor church, nor streete had left intire.

101

But all mens eies were on Arsetes bent,
His sighes were deepe, his lookes full of despaire,
Out of his wofull eies no teare there went,
His hart was hardned with his too much care,
His siluer locks with dust he foule besprent,
He knockt his breast, his face he rent and tare,
And while the prease flockt to the Eunuch ould,
Thus to the people spake Argantes bould,

102

I would, when first I knew the hardie maid
Excluded was among her Christian foes,
Haue follow'd her to giue her timely aid,
Or by her side this breath and life to lose,
What did I not, or what left I vnsaid
To make the king the gates againe vnclose?
But he denide, his powre did aie restraine
My will, my suit was waste, my speech was vaine:

103

Ah, had I gone, I would from danger free
Haue brought to Sion that sweete nymph againe,
Or in the bloudie fight, where kild was shee,
In her defence there noblie haue beene slaine:
But what could I do more? the counsels bee
Of God and man gainst my designments plaine,
Dead is Clorinda faire, laid in colde graue,
Let me reuenge her whom I could not saue.

104

Hierusalem, heare what Argantes saith,
Heare heau'n (and if he breake his oath and word,
Vpon this head cast thunder in thy wrath)
I will destroy and kill that Christian Lord,
Who this faire dame by night thus murdred hath,
Nor from my side I will vngird this sword,
Till Tancreds hart it cleaue and shed his blood,
And leaue his corse to wolues and crowes for food.
234

105

This said, the people with a ioyfull shoute
Applaud his speeches and his words approue,
And calm'd their griefe in hope the boaster stoute
Would kill the Prince, who late had slaine his loue.
O promise vaine! it otherwise fell out:
Men purpose, but high Gods dispose aboue,
For vnderneath his sword this boaster dide,
Whom thus he scorn'd and threat'ned in his pride.
previous section Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The Recouerie of Ierusalem
next section