To mend the breach that there he stood and wrought.
LXII
The captain great within bare-headed stood,
His body armed and clad in purple weed,
Two pages bore his shield and helmet good,
He leaning on a bending lance gave heed
To a big man whose looks were fierce and proud,
With whom he parleyed of some haughty deed,
Godfredo’s name as Vafrine watched he heard,
Which made him give more heed, take more regard:
LXIII
Thus spake the chieftain to that surly sir,
“Art thou so sure that Godfrey shall be slain?”
“I am,” quoth he, “and swear ne’er to retire,
Except he first be killed, to court again.
I will prevent those that with me conspire:
Nor other guerdon ask I for my pain
But that I may hang up his harness brave
At Gair, and under them these words engrave:
LXIV
“‘These arms Ormondo took in noble fight
From Godfrey proud, that spoiled all Asia’s lands,
And with them took his life, and here on high,
In memory thereof, this trophy stands.’”
The duke replied, “Ne’er shall that deed, bold knight,
Pass unrewarded at our sovereign’s hands,
What thou demandest shall he gladly grant,
Nor gold nor guerdon shalt thou wish or want.
LXV
“Those counterfeited armors then prepare,
Because the day of fight approacheth fast.”
“They ready are,” quoth he; then both forbare
From further talk, these speeches were the last.
Vafrine, these great things heard, with grief and care
Remained astound, and in his thoughts oft cast
What treason false this was, how feigned were
Those arms, but yet that doubt he could not clear.
LXVI
From thence he parted, and broad waking lay
All that long night, nor slumbered once nor slept:
But when the camp by peep of springing day
Their banner spread, and knights on horseback leapt,
With them he marched forth in meet array,
And where they pitched lodged, and with them kept,
And then from tent to tent he stalked about,
To hear and see, and learn this secret out;
LXVII
Searching about, on a rich throne he fand
Armida set with dames and knights around,
Sullen she sat, and sighed, it seemed she scanned
Some weighty matters in her thoughts profounds,
Her rosy cheek leaned on her lily hand,
Her eyes, love’s twinkling stars, she bent to ground,
Weep she, or no, he knows not, yet appears
Her humid eyes even great with child with tears.
LXVIII
He saw before her set Adrastus grim,
That seemed scant to live, move, or respire,
So was he fixed on his mistress trim,
So gazed he, and fed his fond desire;
But Tisiphern beheld now her now him,
And quaked sometime for love, sometime for ire,
And in his cheeks the color went and came,
For there wrath’s fire now burnt, now shone love’s flame.
LXIX
Then from the garland fair of virgins bright,
Mongst whom he lay enclosed, rose Altamore,
His hot desire he hid and kept from sight,
His looks were ruled by Cupid’s crafty lore,
His left eye viewed her hand, her face, his right
Both watched her beauties hid and secret store,
And entrance found where her thin veil bewrayed
The milken-way between her breasts that laid.
LXX
Her eyes Armida lift from earth at last,
And cleared again her front and visage sad,
Midst clouds of woe her looks which overcast
She lightened forth a smile, sweet, pleasant, glad;
“My lord,” quoth she, “your oath and promise passed,
Hath freed my heart of all the griefs it had,
That now in hope of sweet revenge it lives,
Such joy, such ease, desired vengeance gives.”
LXXI
“Cheer up thy looks,” answered the Indian king,
“And for sweet beauty’s sake, appease thy woe,
Cast at your feet ere you expect the thing,
I will present the head of thy strong foe;
Else shall this hand his person captive bring
And cast in prison deep;” he boasted so.
His rival heard him well, yet answered naught,
But bit his lips, and grieved in secret thought.
LXXII
To Tisipherne the damsel turning right,
“And what say you, my noble lord?” quoth she.
He taunting said, “I that am slow to fight
Will follow far behind, the worth to see
Of this your terrible and puissant knight,”
In scornful words this bitter scoff gave he.
“Good reason,” quoth the king, “thou come behind,
Nor e’er compare thee with the Prince of Ind.”
LXXIII
Lord Tisiphernes shook his head, and said,
“Oh, had my power free like my courage been,
Or had I liberty to use this blade,
Who slow, who weakest is, soon should be seen,
Nor thou, nor thy great vaunts make me afraid,
But cruel love I fear, and this fair queen.”
This said, to challenge him the king forth leapt,
But up their mistress start, and twixt them stepped:
LXXIV
“Will you thus rob me of that gift,” quoth she,
“Which each hath vowed to give by word and oath?
You are my champions, let that title be
The bond of love and peace between you both;
He that displeased is, is displeased with me,
For which of you is grieved, and I not wroth?”
Thus warned she them, their hearts, for ire nigh broke,
In forced peace and rest thus bore love’s yoke.
LXXV
All this heard Vafrine as he stood beside,
And having learned the truth, he left the tent,
That treason was against the Christian’s guide
Contrived, he wist, yet wist not how it went,
By words and questions far off, he tried
To find the truth; more difficult, more bent
Was he to know it, and resolved to die,
Or of that secret close the intent to spy.
LXXVI
Of sly intelligence he proved all ways,
All crafts, all wiles, that in his thoughts abide,
Yet all in vain the man by wit assays,
To know that false compact and practice hid:
But chance, what wisdom could not tell, bewrays,
Fortune of all his doubt the knots undid,
So that prepared for Godfrey’s last mishap
At ease he found the net, and spied the trap.
LXXVII
Thither he turned again where seated was,
The angry lover, ‘twixt her friends and lords,
For in that troop much talk he thought would pass,
Each great assembly store of news affords,
He sided there a lusty lovely lass,
And with some courtly terms the wench he boards,
He feigns acquaintance, and as bold appears
As he had known that virgin twenty years.
LXXVIII
He said, “Would some sweet lady grace me so,
To chose me for her champion, friend and knight,
Proud Godfrey’s o
r Rinaldo’s head, I trow,
Should feel the sharpness of my curtlax bright;
Ask me the head, fair mistress, of some foe,
For to your beauty wooed is my might;”
So he began, and meant in speeches wise
Further to wade, but thus he broke the ice.
LXXIX
Therewith he smiled, and smiling gan to frame
His looks so to their old and native grace,
That towards him another virgin came,
Heard him, beheld him, and with bashful face
Said, “For thy mistress choose no other dame
But me, on me thy love and service place,
I take thee for my champion, and apart
Would reason with thee, if my knight thou art.”
LXXX
Withdrawn, she thus began, “Vafrine, pardie,
I know thee well, and me thou knowest of old,”
To his last trump this drove the subtle spy,
But smiling towards her he turned him bold,
“Ne’er that I wot I saw thee erst with eye,
Yet for thy worth all eyes should thee behold,
Thus much I know right well, for from the same
Which erst you gave me different is my name.
LXXXI
“My mother bore me near Bisertus wall,
Her name was Lesbine, mine is Almansore!”
“I knew long since,” quoth she, “what men thee call,
And thine estate, dissemble it no more,
From me thy friend hide not thyself at all,
If I betray thee let me die therefore,
I am Erminia, daughter to a prince,
But Tancred’s slave, thy fellow-servant since;
LXXXII
“Two happy months within that prison kind,
Under thy guard rejoiced I to dwell,
And thee a keeper meek and good did find,
The same, the same I am; behold me well.”
The squire her lovely beauty called to mind,
And marked her visage fair: “From thee expel
All fear,” she says, “for me live safe and sure,
I will thy safety, not thy harm procure.
LXXXIII
“But yet I pray thee, when thou dost return,
To my dear prison lead me home again;
For in this hateful freedom even and morn
I sigh for sorrow, mourn and weep for pain:
But if to spy perchance thou here sojourn,
Great hap thou hast to know these secrets plain,
For I their treasons false, false trains can say,
Which few beside can tell, none will betray.”
LXXXIV
On her he gazed, and silent stood this while,
Armida’s sleights he knew, and trains unjust,
Women have tongues of craft, and hearts of guile,
They will, they will not, fools that on them trust,
For in their speech is death, hell in their smile;
At last he said, “If hence depart you lust,
I will you guide; on this conclude we here,
And further speech till fitter time forbear.”
LXXXV
Forthwith, ere thence the camp remove, to ride
They were resolved, their flight that season fits,
Vafrine departs, she to the dames beside
Returns, and there on thorns awhile she sits,
Of her new knight she talks, till time and tide
To scape unmarked she find, then forth she gets,
Thither where Vafrine her unseen abode,
There took she horse, and from the camp they rode.
LXXXVI
And now in deserts waste and wild arrived,
Far from the camp, far from resort and sight,
Vafrine began, “Gainst Godfrey’s life contrived
The false compacts and trains unfold aright:”
Then she those treasons, from their spring derived,
Repeats, and brings their hid deceits to light,
“Eight knights,” she says, “all courtiers brave, there are,
But Ormond strong the rest surpasseth far:
LXXXVII
“These, whether hate or hope of gain them move,
Conspired have, and framed their treason so,
That day when Emiren by fight shall prove
To win lost Asia from his Christian foe,
These, with the cross scored on their arms above,
And armed like Frenchmen will disguised go,
Like Godfrey’s guard that gold and white do wear,
Such shall their habit be, and such their gear:
LXXXVIII
“Yet each will bear a token in his crest,
That so their friends for Pagans may them know:
But in close fight when all the soldiers best
Shall mingled be, to give the fatal blow
They will keep near, and pierce Godfredo’s breast,
While of his faithful guard they bear false show,
And all their swords are dipped in poison strong,
Because each wound shall bring sad death ere long.
LXXXIX
“And for their chieftain wist I knew your guise,
What garments, ensigns, and what arms you carry,
Those feigned arms he forced me to devise,
So that from yours but small or naught they vary;
But these unjust commands my thoughts despise,
Within their camp therefore I list not tarry,
My heart abhors I should this hand defile
With spot of treason, or with act of guile.
XC
“This is the cause, but not the cause alone:”
And there she ceased, and blushed, and on the main
Cast down her eyes, these last words scant outgone,
She would have stopped, nor durst pronounce them plain.
The squire what she concealed would know, as one
That from her breast her secret thoughts could strain,
“Of little faith,” quoth he, “why would’st thou hide
Those causes true, from me thy squire and guide?”
XCI
With that she fetched a sigh, sad, sore and deep,
And from her lips her words slow trembling came,
“Fruitless,” she said, “untimely, hard to keep,
Vain modesty farewell, and farewell shame,
Why hope you restless love to bring on sleep?
Why strive you fires to quench, sweet Cupid’s flame?
No, no, such cares, and such respects beseem
Great ladies, wandering maids them naught esteem.
XCII
“That night fatal to me and Antioch town,
Then made a prey to her commanding foe,
My loss was greater than was seen or known,
There ended not, but thence began my woe:
Light was the loss of friends, of realm or crown;
But with my state I lost myself also,
Ne’er to be found again, for then I lost
My wit, my sense, my heart, my soul almost.
XCIII
“Through fire and sword, through blood and death, Vafrine,
Which all my friends did burn, did kill, did chase,
Thou know’st I ran to thy dear lord and mine,
When first he entered had my father’s place,
And kneeling with salt ears in my swollen eyne;
‘Great prince,’ quoth I, ‘grant mercy, pity, grace,
Save not my kingdom, not my life I said,
But save mine honor, let me die a maid.’
XCIV
“He lift me by the trembling hand from ground,
Nor stayed he till my humble speech was done;
But said, ‘A friend and keeper hast thou found,
Fair virgin, nor to me in vain you run:’
A sweetness strange from that sweet voice’s sound
r /> Pierced my heart, my breast’s weak fortress won,
Which creeping through my bosom soft became
A wound, a sickness, and a quenchless flame.
XCV
“He visits me, with speeches kind and grave
He sought to ease my grief, and sorrows’ smart.
He said, ‘I give thee liberty, receive
All that is thine, and at thy will depart:’
Alas, he robbed me when he thought he gave,
Free was Erminia, but captived her heart,
Mine was the body, his the soul and mind,
He gave the cage but kept the bird behind.
XCVI
“But who can hide desire, or love suppress?
Oft of his worth with thee in talk I strove,
Thou, by my trembling fit that well could’st guess
What fever held me, saidst, ‘Thou art in love;’
But I denied, for what can maids do less?
And yet my sighs thy sayings true did prove,
Instead of speech, my looks, my tears, mine eyes,
Told in what flame, what fire thy mistress fries.
XCVII
“Unhappy silence, well I might have told
My woes, and for my harms have sought relief,
Since now my pains and plaints I utter bold,
Where none that hears can help or ease my grief.
From him I parted, and did close upfold
My wounds within my bosom, death was chief
Of all my hopes and helps, till love’s sweet flame
Plucked off the bridle of respect and shame,
XCVIII
“And caused me ride to seek my lord and knight,
For he that made me sick could make me sound:
But on an ambush I mischanced to light
Of cruel men, in armour clothed round,
Hardly I scaped their hand by mature flight.
And fled to wilderness and desert ground,
And there I lived in groves and forests wild,
With gentle grooms and shepherds’ daughters mild.
XCIX
“But when hot love which fear had late suppressed,
Revived again, there nould I longer sit,
But rode the way I came, nor e’er took rest,
Till on like danger, like mishap I hit,
A troop to forage and to spoil addressed,
Encountered me, nor could I fly from it:
Thus was I ta’en, and those that had me caught,
Egyptians were, and me to Gaza brought,
C
“And for a present to their captain gave,
Whom I entreated and besought so well,
That he mine honor had great care to save,
And since with fair Armida let me dwell.
Thus taken oft, escaped oft I have,
Ah, see what haps I passed, what dangers fell,
So often captive, free so oft again,
Still my first bands I keep, still my first chain.
Jerusalem Delivered Page 56