LXXI
‘Ah, for God’s sake,’ the Indian chieftain said,
‘Clear thy sad brow, and grieve not, I entreat;
Soon shalt thou see the execrable head
Of that Rinaldo rolling at thy feet,
Or this avenging hand shall drag him here,
Captive to thee.’ Thus promised on his part:
Listening to which, the other cavalier
Spoke not, tho’ almost bursting in his heart.
LXXII
Then turning to Prince Tisapherne, she cried,
With a sweet smile: ‘What sayest thou, signor?’
He with derisive raillery replied:
‘I will discreetly follow from afar,
As I am backward, you dare-devil knight;’
And deeply stung the Indian by his sneer,
Who took him up: ‘Most meet it is and right
That thou shouldst follow, and the ordeal fear.’
LXXIII
His haught head tossing, Tisaphernes cried:
‘Ah, were I master of my will, proud peer,
And could this falchion use, ’twould soon decide
Which of us twain most backward would appear.
Thee or thy vaunts I fear not to oppose;
’Tis Heaven alone and hostile love are feared.’
He ceased: to challenge him Adrastus rose,
But ‘twixt them fair Armida interfered.
LXXIV
‘Ah, why that gift so often given me, would
Ye, gallant knights,’ she whispered, ‘take away?
Ye are my champions, and that title should
Alone suffice your quarrels to allay.
I am the offended one in your offence;
This ye well know.’ Thus to the rivals spoke,
According by her gentle influence
Discordant spirits ‘neath an iron yoke.
LXXV
Vafrino, present, heard the whole, and thence
The truth surmising, took himself away;
Of the dark plot he had some evidence,
But found that all in deep involvement lay.
Still, still he enquired; the obstacles alone
Increased his wish the mystery to track;
His life he was determined to lay down,
Or bring the important hidden secret back.
LXXVI
Countless, unheard of schemes his subtile brain
Formed, nor a single trick or fraud forgot;
Still with all that, he could no knowledge gain
Of the arms and plan of the mysterious plot.
Fortune at length (which he had failed to do)
The knot of his perplexities unwound;
Whence to those snares, ‘gainst Godfred set, the clue,
In one entire unbroken chain, he found.
LXXVII
Returned Vafrino had to where still sat,
Amid her champion knights, the lover-foe;
For there he deemed it best to investigate,
Where such great crowds were passing to and fro.
Here, then, a Pagan damsel he addressed
As an old friend he previously had known,
And former friendship’s privilege possessed;
Familiar and fair spoken was his tone.
LXXVIII
‘Fain would I, too,’ by way of jest, he said,
‘Become the champion of some fair. I feel
Sure I could Bouillon’s or Rinaldo’s head
Rive with one sweep of my avenging steel.
But ask, and I will bring you, if you please,
One of you barbarous barons’ heads.’ Thus spoke,
By way of prelude, meaning, by degrees,
To more important ends to bring the joke.
LXXIX
But as he spoke he smiled, and smiling made
A certain gesture, to him natural;
When at that moment, lo! another maid
Heard, saw, came up, and said to him: ‘From all
The rest I intend to carry off thy heart;
Nor needest thou unworthy service fear;
Thee I elect my champion, and apart
Converse would with thee as my cavalier.’
LXXX
Aside she drew, and said to him: ‘Thou art
Found out, Vafrino; thou shouldst know me, too.’
The crafty squire was troubled sore at heart,
But turned to her again, and smiled anew.
‘Thee, who, once seen, could ne’er from memory fade,
I ne’er before have seen, that I am aware;
I only know far different, lovely maid,
From what thou call’st me, is the name I bear.
LXXXI
‘Me on Biserta’s slope Lesbin begot;
My name’s Almanzor.’ i Tuscan,’ she replied,
‘Well, well I know thy person, and need not
Guess at what thou wouldst strive in vain to hide.
For I am thy friend, Vafrino, and would fling
My life away thine or thy lord’s to save:
Erminia I, erst daughter of a king,
Tancredi’s captive, and thy fellow slave.
LXXXII
‘Two happy months, in welcome prison, thou
Stood’st guard o’er me, compassionate sentinel,
Nor fail’dst all kindly courtesies to show:
The same — the same I am — regard me well.’
The squire, who on her face had fixed his eyes,
Not tardy was to recognise the fair.
‘Safe is thy life,’ she added; ‘by you skies,
By God’s own image in you sun, I swear.
LXXXIII
‘Nay, thee I beg, when thou returnest, me
To reconduct to my dear bonds. Alas!
Here in unwelcome bitter liberty
Most gloomy days and troubled nights I pass;
And if, perchance, thou comest here as spy,
Thy stars have led thee to a chance most rare;
Unfold I can the foul conspiracy,
With all that had been hard to learn elsewhere.’
LXXXIV
Her, as she spoke, all silently he eyed,
Nor false Armida’s treachery forgot;
What fools are men in women to confide —
False blabbing things — they will, and they will not.
Such his reflections were. At length he said:
‘If such thy pleasure be, thy steps I’ll guide;
Let this between us be establishèd,
And further talk to better use applied.’
LXXXV
They orders give to be in saddle ere
The encampment for its morning march parade.
Vafrino left the tent, returned the fair
Back to her friends, where she a while delayed,
And feigned, while speaking of her new-found knight,
To jest and banter; then went forth again:
Went to the trysting place to join his flight,
And from the camp both sallied to the plain.
LXXXVI
At a sequestered spot they had arrived,
And lost sight of the encampment, when he said:
‘Tell me how those barbarians have contrived
For Godfred’s life their subtile snares to spread’’
At his demand Erminia, bit by bit,
The web and woof of the foul plot unwound:
‘Eight princely warriors are engaged in it,
Of whom Ormond the strong is most renowned.
LXXXVII
‘These have conspired (or moved by wrath or hate),
And these the means they intend to use: the day
On which the two great armies vindicate
Their claim to Asia in pitched battle, they
Upon their arms the red cross sign will wear,
And, armed like Franks, commingle in the fight;
And as Prince Godfred’s guards accoutred
are,
So will their vestments be of gold and white.
LXXXVIII
‘But on his helmet each will wear a token,
That by his friends he may as friend be known.
And when the two great armies’ ranks are broken,
And all things are in dire confusion thrown,
They’ll seek him out, and trap the valorous heart,
‘Neath his guards’ friendly colours and device;
Poisoned their swords are with infernal art,
So that one scratch will for his death suffice.
LXXXIX
‘And as the Pagans failed not to surmise
That I your surcoats and equipments knew,
The false devices they made me devise;
I was compelled the hateful work to do.
This is the reason why their harsh request
I fly, and leave the camp to roam abroad;
No matter what the mode be, I detest
To taint myself by any act of fraud.
XC
‘These are my reasons — but not these alone.’
Here she stopped short, and, hanging down her head,
Scarlet became, as if ashamed to own
Her closing words, half wishing them unsaid.
The squire, who felt desirous to extract
What she from shame seemed ill-disposed to grant,
Exclaimed: ‘Of little faith, why hide the exact
And real causes from thy confidant?’
XCI
A deep-drawn sigh from her wrung bosom came,
And these hoarse feverish accents reached his ear:
‘Ill-timed reserve! ill-kept, ill-guarded shame!
Henceforth begone — you are unsuited here.
Why struggle more? or, vainly bashful, try
To hide Love’s fire beneath your specious flame?
Due such regards as these were formerly,
Not now that I an errant damsel am.’
XCII
Then said:’ That night, so fatal unto me,
And to my realm, which forced was to submit,
More than appeared I lost; my misery
Was not in, no, but was derived from it.
Light is the loss of empire, but, alas!
Myself I lost, together with my throne,
Past all recovery: for I conscious was
That mind, heart, sense, insensate, all had gone.
XCIII
‘Thou know’st, Vafrino, then, how, all alarmed,
I, seeing around such desolation spread,
Ran to thy lord and mine, whom, fully armed,
I for the first time saw my palace tread;
And how, low bending, I poured forth this prayer:
“Unconquered victor, mercy, pity show,
Not for my life I pray thee, but ah! spare
The maiden honour of thy suppliant foe.”
XCIV
‘And how he gave his loyal hand to me,
Nor waited for me to complete my prayer,
Exclaiming: “I will thy defender be,
Nor vain is thy appeal, O maiden fair.”
’Twas then a vague but sweet emotion stole
Down to my heart, and piercing it became,
As it crept onward to my stricken soul,
A mortal wound, a fierce consuming flame.
XCV
‘He visited me oft, and in sweet strain,
My dole condoling, sympathised with me;
Nor of my spoils would any part retain,
But said: “Full freedom I give back to thee.”
A gift that seemed which was, alas! a theft,
Since from myself he stole me; and the part
He did restore I prized not; but he reft
From me, by force, the empire of my heart.
XCVI
‘Love ill conceals itself: often of thee
Did I, desirous, of my lord enquire;
Thou, seeing the signs of my infirmity,
Didst answer me: “Thou burnest with love’s fire,”
Which I denied: but ah! my passionate sighs
Of my heart’s state far truer witness bore;
And, tho’ my tongue was mute, my tell-tale eyes
Betrayed the fire that burned me to the core.
XCVII
‘Unfortunate silence! would that I had then
Demanded medicine for my suffering state,
Since driven afterwards to give such rein
To my desires, when useless and too late.
In short, I left, concealing the wild strife
That raged within my heart, and thought to die.
Seeking at last some solace for my life,
Love burst the barrier of all modesty.
XCVIII
‘So that in quest of my dear lord I went,
That he might cure the wound himself had made;
But on the way met fierce impediment,
Being by a band of lawless loons waylaid;
Into whose hands a prey I nearly fell,
But ‘scaped into a distant wilderness,
And there abode in solitary cell,
Inhabitant of woods, and shepherdess.
XCIX
‘But in me when that longing had revived,
Which for a time by terror was repressed,
I left; and when at the same spot arrived,
Me did again the same mishap arrest.
Nor could I fly; this time the robber band
Pursued too swiftly, and was now too near.
Thus was I captured: from far Egypt’s land,
And unto Gaza bound, my captors were,
C
‘Me to their captain as their prize they led,
Whom with account so plausible I gained,
That both respected and unviolated
I was, while with Armida I remained.
Thus many times a captive I became,
Thus oft escaped; such my adventures are.
Still, tho’ enslaved and freed so oft, the same
First chains that bound, still keep me prisoner.
CI
‘And oh! may he, who has around my heart
Wound such indissoluble ties, not say,
Seek, errant maid, some other home; thou art
Not worthy ‘Neath Tancredi’s roof to stay.
But may he welcome my return; ah! may
He let me in my former jail abide.’
Thus spake Erminia, and thus night and day
The pair rode on, conversing side by side.
CII
Vafrino left the high road now, and sought
Either a shorter or securer way,
Which their steps nearly to the city brought,
As from the westering sun the east grew gray;
When, lo! black blood-gouts they began to trace;
Begrimed with blood, then found a warrior dead,
Who blocked the path up, and whose monster face
Heavenward was turned, and, dead, still menacèd.
CIII
The fashion of his arms and strange array
Proved him a Pagan, so the squire passed on,
When, at some distance off, another lay,
Whom, when Vafrino cast his eyes upon,
He thought this surely must a Christian be,
And the dark armour more confirmed his doubt;
Whence springing down to see his face, ‘Ah me!
Tancredi’s slain!’ he wildly shouted out
CIV
To look at the grim Saracen had stayed
The unfortunate princess, when, like a dart,
The ringing, piercing accents, that betrayed
Vafrino’s agony, transfixed her heart.
At Tancred’s name she gallopped madly there,
Like one with wine or sudden frenzy flown;
And seeing that face all colourless and fair,
Vaulted not — no, but from her selle dashed down:
&nb
sp; CV
And tears in torrents inexhaustible
(Her words with sobs commingling) o’er him shed.
‘Ah, sight appalling and most horrible,
At what a moment am I hither led?
I see thee, Tancred, stretched upon the ground,
And yet my presence thy closed eyes ignore;
After long absence thou art no sooner found,
Than lost again, alas! for evermore.
CVI
‘Ne’er had I deemed that thou couldst ever be
Unsightly, darling, in my loving sight;
Yet now I would welcome blindness, not to see
Thy mangled form, beloved, ill-fated knight!
I dare not look. Of those dear, guilty eyes
Where is the fire — ah, where the lustre now?
Where of those blooming cheeks the damask dyes,
Where the calm sunshine of that noble brow?
CVII
‘No matter, lovely soul, if thou survive
Within you dark and squalid form, which still
Is dear as ever; hear, and ah, forgive
The theft and daring of my longing will,
As from these pallid lips cold kisses I
Snatch, which I fondly hoped had been more warm:
From Death some portion of his victory
I’ll wrest, in kissing this inanimate form.
CVIII
‘Compassionate mouth, whose kindly eloquence
Was, living, wont to cheer my cheerless dole,
Grant that I may, ere my departure hence,
Myself at least with one dear kiss console!
Then had I dared to ask, it may be thou
Hadst given what I now steal; ah, then, before
I die, let me embrace thee once, and now
Within thy lips my sinking spirit pour.
CIX
‘Receive my fluttering soul, which is resolved
To follow thine; and ah, direct it where
Thou goest!’ Thus spoke, and thro’ her eyes dissolved,
So that a river seemed the weeping fair.
Bathed by her quickening tears, the knight came to,
And oped his lips, tho’ still were closed his eyes;
He oped his lips and breathed, as in adieu,
One sob, responsive to the maiden’s sighs.
CX
A gleam of hope, as thus the warrior sighed,
Erminia’s bosom for a moment cheers;
‘Ah, ope thine eyes for these last rites,’ she cried,
‘Which I perform, Tancredi, with my tears.
Look at me well, for I would near thee die;
Death in thy company indeed were bliss.
Look at me well, nor ah, so fleetly fly:
The dying favour I demand is this.’
CXI
His eyes Tancredi oped, and heavily
Closed them again; again her cries found vent,
When the squire said: ‘Not yet extinct is he;
Cure him then first, and afterwards lament’
Then stripped him of his arms; with delicate touch
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