As up he clomb, Alcasto’s helmet struck,
And to the bottom dashed him headlong down.
XXXVI
Not mortal was the blow, but still the fall
Stunned him; he lay a voiceless, moveless weight.
Then cried the gibing victor from the wall:
‘Fallen is the first, who next will share his fate?
Why not come forth, ye sneaking, skulking braves,
And open battle, like Arganté, dare?
No aid ye’ll find in your outlandish caves,
But in them die, like wild beast in his lair.’
XXXVII
Not for his challenge ceased the Franks, concealed
Beneath their concave covering, but remained
Compact and close, each ‘neath his upraised shield,
Which firm the bolts and ponderous weights sustained.
Now ‘gainst the walls the battering rams are led,
Vast engines of colossal woodwork reared,
With a ram’s solid iron-plated head,
Whose butt alike by gate and wall is feared.
XXXVIII
Meanwhile a rock, suspended from the walls
By hands of hundreds to protect the town,
Upon the tortoise fell, and as it falls
It seemed as tho’ a mountain had fallen down,
The shields’ inwoven union crashing through;
It many a helmet smashed and many a head,
Strewing with arms the ground beneath, which grew,
From bones, and brains, and blood, a ghastly red.
XXXIX
No longer now beneath the sheltering roof
Of their machines the attacking Franks remain,
But from the latent risks to open proof,
Dauntless, rush forth, and their own strength maintain.
These ladders fix and scale the lofty wall;
These batter its foundations; lo, its flanks
Already totter — nay, begin to fall —
Before the desperate onslaught of the Franks.
XL
And fallen they had beneath the horrid blows
Which the great battering ram directed there,
Did not the Turks their violence oppose
With all the known appliances of war;
Gabions of wool they interpose where’er
The mighty beam inclines its murderous course,
Which on themselves the rude concussion bear:
Thus the soft substance breaks the engine’s force.
XLI
While bravely thus the Christians fought, and taxed
Their every effort to possess the town,
Seven times Clorinda bent, seven times relaxed
Her fatal bow, and shot seven arrows down;
And oft, as thither the swift quarrels scud,
So oft the barb and feathered wings are stained,
Not in plebeian, but in noblest blood:
Ignoble mark that haughty fair disdained.
XLII
The first she wounded was a cavalier,
The younger heir of England’s king. His head
But scarcely did above the mantelet peer,
Than against him the deadly quarrel sped;
Nor could steel gauntlet — with such force it flew —
Prevent it riving his right hand in twain;
Whence from the fight, disabled, he withdrew,
Fuming, but more from passion than from pain.
XLIII
The Count of Amboise on the trench’s bank,
And on the ladder bold Clotharius died;
From breast to back transfixed the former sank,
The last her arrow pierced from side to side:
The Flemish chiefs left arm, while in the act
Of swinging the huge ram, her shaft restrained;
He paused, and strove the arrow to extract,
But in his flesh the iron barb remained.
XLIV
Incautious Ademar, who, far remote,
Watched the fierce combat with solicitous look,
The mortal reed upon his temple smote;
When, as he placed his hand where he was struck,
Through it, behold, another arrow tore,
And nailed it to his face; upon the hill
Sank the bold priest, and bathed with sacred gore
The arms directed by a woman’s skill.
XLV
Then near the battlements, on Palamede,
While, scorning every peril, he ascends
Up the steep ladder, the seventh fatal reed
Falls, and its point in his right eye descends,
And, passing thro’ its nerves and concave ball,
At the nape issues in most bloody guise;
Headlong he tumbles from the assaulted wall,
And at its foot, without a struggle, dies.
XLVI
Thus shot Clorinda. Meanwhile Godfred sought
Another plan to attack the Saracens,
Having against the nearest portal brought
The most colossal of his huge machines;
This was a tower of wood, whose giant height
To the wall’s level rose, and, with a strong
Body of men being freighted for the fight,
Was slowly dragged on rolling wheels along.
XLVII
The moving mass approached the battle’s brunt,
Launching forth bolts and javelins at the foes,
And as in action ship with ship is wont,
So with the adverse walls it tried to close;
But, on their guard, the Pagan cavaliers
Shoved off its frowning front and sides immense;
Battering with stones, and thrusting back with spears,
Now its huge wheels, and now its battlements!
XLVIII
Such flights of shafts and stones were hurled, that black
The face of heaven, from these, from those, became;
Midway, two clouds of missiles met, and back
Rebounded some of them to whence they came:
As stripped of leaves are trees by wintry rains,
Congealed to hail; as fruit, still unripe, falls
Before its time upon the whitened plains,
So fell the Pagans from the embattled walls.
XLIX
But since on them the greatest losses light,
As shielded less by helmet or cuirass,
Part of those still surviving take to flight,
Cowed by the thunder of that mighty mass;
But stayed Nicæa’s former lord, with him
There likewise stayed some few, the army’s flower;
And fierce Arganté, snatching up a beam,
Rushed to resist and counterpoise the tower.
L
Thrusting it back, he kept it at the length
Of the long fir with powerful arm; and there
Down came Clorinda to display her strength,
And the grave perils of her comrade share.
The Christians meanwhile cut the ropes that bound
The pendent wool with long sharp sickles, whence
This their protection falling to the ground,
The ramparts left disarmed of all defence.
LI
Thus tower above, and fiercer far below,
The battering ram continued its dead thunder;
Whence, from within, the streets began to show
Thro’ the breached walls, thus rudely rent asunder.
Godfred now left his station in the field,
More close the crumbling ramparts to explore,
Completely covered by the larger shield
Which he so seldom in the battle bore.
LII
And looking round attentively, descried
Down to the breach Prince Solyman descend,
And where the gaping ruins yawned most wide
To plant himself, the passage to defend;
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Clorinda guarded all the upper part,
And with her stayed the fierce Circassian knight:
Thus looking, Godfred felt his throbbing heart
Bum with magnanimous ardour for the fight
LIII
Whence turning round to good Sigier, he said
(He for him bore another shield and bow):
‘Give me the other, faithful squire, instead
Of this, that less encumbered I may go;
For I will over you dismantled stone
Try to be first the doubtful pass to free;
High time it is that to the world were shown
Some noble token of our gallantry.’
LIV
His shield exchanged, he had scarcely spoke, when flew
A whizzing shaft and struck the cavalier,
Piercing his leg, and passing onwards thro’
The nervous part where pain is most severe.
The honour Fame, Clorinda, gives to thee,
That ’twas thy hand the deadly cord that drew;
And if that day or death or slavery
Thy Pagan comrades ‘scaped, to thee ’tis due.
LV
But that brave chief, as tho’ he did not feel
The anguish of his wound, would not arrest
His onward movement, but with matchless zeal
The ruins mounted, and cheered on the rest.
Still finding that his leg can ill sustain
His body’s weight, that he can only halt,
And that all motion but increased the pain,
At length is forced to abandon the assault.
LVI
And gallant Guelpho beckoning with his hand,
Addressed him thus: ‘Constrained I am to go;
To thee I delegate the chief command;
Do thou my duty, in my absence, do;
But a short time I shall be absent; I
Go, and return.’ This said, he left the field,
Mounted a nimble courser that stood nigh,
Yet could not reach the intrenchments unconcealed.
LVII
Godfreys departure seemed to turn the tide;
The Franks give way and their success departs,
While strength increases on the adverse side,
And new-born hopes refresh the Pagans’ hearts;
His grace no more the God of War affords,
To nerve the faithful; their first ardour fails;
No longer blood attracts their sluggish swords;
The very clarion’s notes seem dying wails.
LVIII
And on the battlements swift reappear
The fugitives, thence chased by wild alarms;
And seeing a woman show no sign of fear,
True love of country all the women arms;
You see them run and place themselves on guard,
With hair dishevelled and with tucked-up gown;
Hurl javelins, and all dangers disregard,
Ev’n death itself, for their belovèd town.
LIX
But what increased the Franks’ alarm, and nerved
With courage the defenders of the walls
(And quickly by both hosts it was observed),
Is that Prince Guelpho, stricken, downward falls;
Amid a thousand him his Fate o’ertook,
Guiding a rock its path aerial thro’;
At the same time, and by a similar stroke,
Raymond was caught and hurled down headlong too.
LX
Bold Eustace, too, upon the trench’s bank
Was also struck; nor at that moment, so
Disastrous to the fortune of the Frank,
‘Gainst them directed was a single blow —
And there were many — that did not divide
Body from soul, or cause at least some wound.
Flushed with success, Arganté in his pride
More fierce became, and thus the foe lampooned:
LXI
‘This is not Antioch; this is not the night
Of Christian frauds confederate; you see
Warriors awake, the sun’s unclouded light,
And other modes and forms of strategy.
What, then! so little are your spirits fired
By love of praise and booty, that your ranks
Cease from the encounter, and so soon are tired?
Women ye are, nor name deserve of Franks!’
LXII
As thus he spoke, the infuriate cavalier
Worked himself up to such a pitch of rage,
That the ample city’s boundaries appear
For his great daring insufficient stage;
With mighty strides he therefore rushes where
The open breach gave access to the walls,
Blocks up the passage, and, with taunting air,
To Solymano, who stood near him, calls:
LXIII
‘Behold the place and moment to decide
Our valour, Solyman, ‘mid yonder host
Why cease? what fearest? There, the walls outside,
Let him the laurel seek that craves it most’
Thus spoke: and both, without an instant’s pause,
Rushed vying to the open field, inspired
One by blind fury, one by honour’s laws,
And the fierce challenge of his rival, fired.
LXIV
Sudden and unexpectedly the twain
Flashed on the foe, by emulation buoyed;
Then were such heaps of Christian soldiers slain,
Such shields and helmets scattered and destroyed,
Such ladders broken, and such rams cut down,
That to a mountain they appeared to swell,
Forming upon the ruins of the town
Another wall, in place of that which fell.
LXV
And those who thought to mount the breach, and gain
The glorious premium of a mural crown,
No more aspire an entrance to obtain;
Nay, seem ev’n ill prepared to hold their own,
And to this new and fierce attack give way,
The engines leaving to their powerful foes,
But little fit for further service, they
So battered were by their infuriate blows.
LXVI
Transported by their impetus, the pair
On, ever on, in wider circuits scour;
Call to the citizens for fire, and bear
Two blazing pines against the dreaded tower.
So rush the Furies, from hell’s fiery porch,
To upset the world; so each gaunt sister shakes,
In Pluto’s service, her far flaring torch,
And throws aloft her wreaths of hornèd snakes.
LXVII
But the unconquered Tancred, who, elsewhere,
Cheered on his Latins ‘gainst the Saracens,
Of the bold deed no sooner was aware,
And saw the double flame, the two great pines,
Than, cutting short his words, he quickly moved
To check the havoc which the Pagans spread;
And so significantly his prowess proved,
That the late victors, vanquished, turned and fled.
LXVIII
Thus with the turn of varying Fortune, turned
The varying chances of the doubtful fray.
Meanwhile, tho’ inly for the fight he burned,
In his great tent, the wounded captain lay:
Baldwin was there, and good Sigier, nor lacked
Of sorrowing friends a sympathising train;
But, as he strove from out his leg to extract
The iron barb, he broke the brittle cane.
LXIX
Then, the most short and expeditious way
To effect a cure, he bade the leeches take,
That to the bottom they should open lay
The wound, and wide and deep incisions make:
‘Send, send me back,’ he cried, ‘that I may share,
Ere day is o’er, the glories of the strife.’
He ceased, and, leaning on a massy spear,
His leg stretched out to the physician’s knife.
LXX
To aid him came hoar Erotimus, who
Was born beside the Po; the healing power
Of every noble water he well knew,
And latent virtue of each herb and flower.
Dear to the Muses, still the sage preferred
The minor glory of his voiceless art;
He, who to snatch from death frail man but cared,
To names could immortality impart
LXXI
The chief, whose rigid look showed no alarm,
Supported stands, and frets, unmoved to tears,
While, with his tunic tucked up o’er his arm,
And robe succinct, the leech still perseveres,
Now with skilled hand, now with strong herbs, to start
The imbedded steel; then tries and tries again;
With nipping pincers, to extract the dart,
But can’t succeed — his labour is in vain.
LXXII
In no way Fortune aids him: she would seem
Her smiles, from his endeavours, to withdraw.
Meanwhile becomes his anguish so extreme,
That in it they almost his death foresaw;
But touched, his guardian angel, in that hour,
Culled upon Ida’s sides fresh dittany,
A crested plant that bears a purple flower,
In whose young leaves a thousand virtues lie.
LXXIII
Well mother Nature to the mountain goats
Teaches the hidden virtue it contains,
When, stricken thro’ their soft and shaggy coats,
Deep in their sides the feathered shaft remains.
This, tho’ in regions far remote it grew,
Plucked in a moment his good angel hath,
And, unperceived, its healing juices threw
In the prepared and medicated bath.
LXXIV
And holy lymph in Lydia’s fountain found,
And panacea in the water poured,
Which the sage sprinkling on the captain’s wound,
The arrow issued of its own accord.
Staunched is the blood, the deadly pains depart
From out his leg, his strength returns, he stands:
Then Erotimus cried: ‘No master art
Hath thee restored, nor these poor mortal hands!
LXXV
‘A greater power thee saves: At God’s command
Came here an angel, made for thee a leech;
I see the signs of his celestial hand.
Arm! arm! Why pause? Arm, arm, and mount the breach.’
Greedy for fight, the pious cavalier
Round his healed leg his crimson cuishes clasped,
Brandished aloft his formidable spear,
Laced up his helm, and shield abandoned grasped;
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