Jerusalem Delivered by Torquato Tasso - HTML preview

TWENTIETH BOOK

THE ARGUMENT.
 The Pagan host arrives, and cruel fight
 Makes with the Christians and their faithful power;
 The Soldan longs in field to prove his might,
 With the old king quits the besieged tower;
 Yet both are slain, and in eternal night
 A famous hand gives each his fatal hour;
 Rinald appeased Armida; first the field
 The Christians win, then praise to God they yield.

I
 The sun called up the world from idle sleep,
 And of the day ten hours were gone and past
 When the bold troop that had the tower to keep
 Espied a sudden mist, that overcast
 The earth with mirksome clouds and darkness deep,
 And saw it was the Egyptian camp at last
 Which raised the dust, for hills and valleys broad
 That host did overspread and overload.

II
 Therewith a merry shout and joyful cry
 The Pagans reared from their besieged hold;
 The cranes from Thrace with such a rumor fly,
 His hoary frost and snow when Hyems old
 Pours down, and fast to warmer regions hie,
 From the sharp winds, fierce storms and tempests cold;
 And quick, and ready this new hope and aid,
 Their hands to shoot, their tongues to threaten made.

III
 From whence their ire, their wrath and hardy threat
 Proceeds, the French well knew, and plain espied,
 For from the walls and ports the army great
 They saw; her strength, her number, pomp, and pride,
 Swelled their breasts with valor’s noble heat;
 Battle and fight they wished, “Arm, arm!” they cried;
 The youth to give the sign of fight all prayed
 Their Duke, and were displeased because delayed

IV
 Till morning next, for he refused to fight;
 Their haste and heat he bridled, but not brake,
 Nor yet with sudden fray or skirmish light
 Of these new foes would he vain trial make.
 “After so many wars,” he says, “good right
 It is, that one day’s rest at least you take,”
 For thus in his vain foes he cherish would
 The hope which in their strength they have and hold.

V
 To see Aurora’s gentle beam appear,
 The soldiers armed, prest and ready lay,
 The skies were never half so fair and clear
 As in the breaking of that blessed day,
 The merry morning smiled, and seemed to wear
 Upon her silver crown sun’s golden ray,
 And without cloud heaven his redoubled light
 Bent down to see this field, this fray, this fight.

VI
 When first he saw the daybreak show and shine,
 Godfrey his host in good array brought out,
 And to besiege the tyrant Aladine
 Raymond he left, and all the faithful rout
 That from the towns was come of Palestine
 To serve and succor their deliverer stout,
 And with them left a hardy troop beside
 Of Gascoigns strong, in arms well proved, oft tried.

VII
 Such was Godfredo’s countenance, such his cheer,
 That from his eye sure conquest flames and streams,
 Heaven’s gracious favors in his looks appear,
 And great and goodly more than erst he seems;
 His face and forehead full of noblesse were,
 And on his cheek smiled youth’s purple beams,
 And in his gait, his grace, his acts, his eyes,
 Somewhat, far more than mortal, lives and lies.

VIII
 He had not marched far ere he espied
 Of his proud foes the mighty host draw nigh;
 A hill at first he took and fortified
 At his left hand which stood his army by,
 Broad in the front behind more strait uptied
 His army ready stood the fight to try,
 And to the middle ward well armed he brings
 His footmen strong, his horsemen served for wings.

IX
 To the left wing, spread underneath the bent
 Of the steep hill that saved their flank and side,
 The Roberts twain, two leaders good, he sent;
 His brother had the middle ward to guide;
 To the right wing himself in person went
 Down, where the plain was dangerous, broad and wide,
 And where his foes with their great numbers would
 Perchance environ round his squadrons bold.

X
 There all his Lorrainers and men of might,
 All his best armed he placed, and chosen bands,
 And with those horse some footmen armed light,
 That archers were, used to that service, stands;
 The adventurers then, in battle and in fight
 Well tried, a squadron famous through all lands,
 On the right hand he set, somedeal aside,
 Rinaldo was their leader, lord and guide.

XI
 To whom the Duke, “In thee our hope is laid
 Of victory, thou must the conquest gain,
 Behind this mighty wing, so far displayed,
 Thou with thy noble squadron close remain;
 And when the Pagans would our backs invade,
 Assail them then, and make their onset vain;
 For if I guess aright, they have in mind
 To compass us, and charge our troops behind.”

XII
 Then through his host, that took so large a scope,
 He rode, and viewed them all, both horse and foot;
 His face was bare, his helm unclosed and ope,
 Lightened his eyes, his looks bright fire shot out;
 He cheers the fearful, comforts them that hope,
 And to the bold recounts his boasting stout,
 And to the valiant his adventures hard,
 These bids he look for praise, those for reward.

XIII
 At last he stayed where of his squadrons bold
 And noblest troops assembled was best part;
 There from a rising bank his will he told,
 And all that heard his speech thereat took heart:
 And as the molten snow from mountains cold
 Runs down in streams with eloquence and art,
 So from his lips his words and speeches fell,
 Shrill, speedy, pleasant, sweet, and placed well.

XIV
 “My hardy host, you conquerors of the East,
 You scourge wherewith Christ whips his heathen fone,
 Of victory behold the latest feast,
 See the last day for which you wished alone;
 Not without cause the Saracens most and least
 Our gracious Lord hath gathered here in one,
 For all your foes and his assembled are,
 That one day’s fight may end seven years of war.

XV
 “This fight shall bring us many victories,
 The danger none, the labor will be small,
 Let not the number of your enemies
 Dismay your hearts, grant fear no place at all;
 For strife and discord through their army flies,
 Their bands ill ranked themselves entangle shall,
 And few of them to strike or fight shall come,
 For some want strength, some heart, some elbow-room.

XVI
 “This host, with whom you must encounter now,
 Are men half naked, without strength or skill,
 From idleness, or following the plough,
 Late pressed forth to war against their will,
 Their swords are blunt, shields thin, soon pierced through,
 Their banners shake, their bearers shrink, for ill
 Their leaders heard, obeyed, or followed be,
 Their loss, their flight, their death I well foresee.

XVII
 “Their captain clad in purple, armed in gold,
 That seems so fierce, so hardy, stout and strong,
 The Moors or weak Arabians vanquish could,
 Yet can he not resist your valors long.
 What can he do, though wise, though sage, though bold,
 In that confusion, trouble, thrust and throng?
 Ill known he is, and worse he knows his host,
 Strange lords ill feared are, ill obeyed of most.

XVIII
 “But I am captain of this chosen crew,
 With whom I oft have conquered, triumphed oft,
 Your lands and lineages long since I knew,
 Each knight obeys my rule, mild, easy, soft,
 I know each sword, each dart, each shaft I view,
 Although the quarrel fly in skies aloft,
 Whether the same of Ireland be, or France,
 And from what bow it comes, what hand perchance.

XIX
 “I ask an easy and a usual thing,
 As you have oft, this day, so win the field,
 Let zeal and honor be your virtue’s sting,
 Your lives, my fame, Christ’s faith defend and shield,
 To earth these Pagans slain and wounded bring,
 Tread on their necks, make them all die or yield,—
 What need I more exhort you? from your eyes
 I see how victory, how conquest flies.”

XX
 Upon the captain, when his speech was done,
 It seemed a lamp and golden light down came,
 As from night’s azure mantle oft doth run
 Or fall, a sliding star, or shining flame;
 But from the bosom of the burning sun
 Proceeded this, and garland-wise the same
 Godfredo’s noble head encompassed round,
 And, as some thought, foreshowed he should be crowned.

XXI
 Perchance, if man’s proud thought or saucy tongue
 Have leave to judge or guess at heavenly things,
 This was the angel which had kept him long,
 That now came down, and hid him with his wings.
 While thus the Duke bespeaks his armies strong,
 And every troop and band in order brings.
 Lord Emiren his host disposed well,
 And with bold words whet on their courage fell;

XXII
 The man brought forth his army great with speed,
 In order good, his foes at hand he spied,
 Like the new moon his host two horns did spreed,
 In midst the foot, the horse were on each side,
 The right wing kept he for himself to lead,
 Great Altamore received the left to guide,
 The middle ward led Muleasses proud,
 And in that battle fair Armida stood.

XXIII
 On the right quarter stood the Indian grim,
 With Tisipherne and all the king’s own band;
 But where the left wing spread her squadrons trim
 O’er the large plain, did Altamoro stand,
 With African and Persian kings with him,
 And two that came from Meroe’s hot sand,
 And all his crossbows and his slings he placed,
 Where room best served to shoot, to throw, to cast.

XXIV
 Thus Emiren his host put in array,
 And rode from band to band, from rank to rank,
 His truchmen now, and now himself, doth say,
 What spoil his folk shall gain, what praise, what thank.
 To him that feared, “Look up, ours is the day,”
 He says, “Vile fear to bold hearts never sank,
 How dareth one against an hundred fight?
 Our cry, our shade, will put them all to flight.”

XXV
 But to the bold, “Go, hardy knight,” he says,
 “His prey out of this lion’s paws go tear:”
 To some before his thoughts the shape he lays,
 And makes therein the image true appear,
 How his sad country him entreats and prays,
 His house, his loving wife, and children dear:
 “Suppose,” quoth he, “thy country doth beseech
 And pray thee thus, suppose this is her speech.

XXVI
 “Defend my laws, uphold my temples brave,
 My blood from washing of my streets withhold,
 From ravishing my virgins keep, and save
 Thine ancestors’ dead bones and ashes cold!
 To thee thy fathers dear and parents grave
 Show their uncovered heads, white, hoary, old,
 To thee thy wife—her breasts with tears o’erspread—
 Thy sons, their cradles, shows, thy marriage bed.”

XXVII
 To all the rest, “You for her honor’s sake
 Whom Asia makes her champions, by your might
 Upon these thieves, weak, feeble, few, must take
 A sharp revenge, yet just, deserved and right.”
 Thus many words in several tongues he spake,
 And all his sundry nations to sharp fight
 Encouraged, but now the dukes had done
 Their speeches all, the hosts together run.

XXVIII
 It was a great, a strange and wondrous sight,
 When front to front those noble armies met,
 How every troop, how in each troop each knight
 Stood prest to move, to fight, and praise to get,
 Loose in the wind waved their ensigns light,
 Trembled the plumes that on their crests were set;
 Their arms, impresses, colors, gold and stone,
 Against the sunbeams smiled, flamed, sparkled, shone.

XXIX
 Of dry topped oaks they seemed two forests thick,
 So did each host with spears and pikes abound,
 Bent were their bows, in rests their lances stick,
 Their hands shook swords, their slings held cobbles round:
 Each steed to run was ready, prest and quick,
 At his commander’s spur, his hand, his sound,
 He chafes, he stamps, careers, and turns about,
 He foams, snorts, neighs, and fire and smoke breathes out.

XXX
 Horror itself in that fair sight seemed fair,
 And pleasure flew amid sad dread and fear;
 The trumpets shrill, that thundered in the air,
 Were music mild and sweet to every ear:
 The faithful camp, though less, yet seemed more rare
 In that strange noise, more warlike, shrill and clear,
 In notes more sweet, the Pagan trumpets jar,
 These sung, their armors shined, these glistered far.

XXXI
 The Christian trumpets give the deadly call,
 The Pagans answer, and the fight accept;
 The godly Frenchmen on their knees down fall
 To pray, and kissed the earth, and then up leapt
 To fight, the land between was vanished all,
 In combat close each host to other stepped;
 For now the wings had skirmish hot begun,
 And with their battles forth the footmen run.

XXXII
 But who was first of all the Christian train,
 That gave the onset first, first won renown?
 Gildippes thou wert she, for by thee slain
 The King of Orms, Hircano, tumbled down,
 The man’s breastbone thou clov’st and rent in twain,
 So Heaven with honor would thee bless and crown,
 Pierced through he fell, and falling hard withal
 His foe praised for her strength and for his fall.

XXXIII
 Her lance thus broke, the hardy dame forth drew
 With her strong hand a fine and trenchant blade,
 And gainst the Persians fierce and bold she flew,
 And in their troop wide streets and lanes she made,
 Even in the girdling-stead divided new
 In pieces twain, Zopire on earth she laid;
 And then Alarco’s head she swept off clean,
 Which like a football tumbled on the green.

XXXIV
 A blow felled Artaxerxes, with a thrust
 Was Argeus slain, the first lay in a trance,
 Ismael’s left hand cut off fell in the dust,
 For on his wrist her sword fell down by chance:
 The hand let go the bridle where it lust,
 The blow upon the courser’s ears did glance,
 Who felt the reins at large, and with the stroke
 Half mad, the ranks disordered, troubled, broke.

XXXV
 All these, and many mo, by time forgot,
 She slew and wounded, when against her came
 The angry Persians all, cast on a knot,
 For on her person would they purchase fame:
 But her dear spouse and husband wanted not
 In so great need, to aid the noble dame;
 Thus joined, the haps of war unhurt they prove,
 Their strength was double, double was their love.

XXXVI
 The noble lovers use well might you see,
 A wondrous guise, till then unseen, unheard,
 To save themselves forgot both he and she,
 Each other’s life did keep, defend, and guard;
 The strokes that gainst her lord discharged be,
 The dame had care to bear, to break, to ward,
 His shield kept off the blows bent on his dear,
 Which, if need be, his naked head should bear.

XXXVII
 So each saved other, each for other’s wrong
 Would vengeance take, but not revenge their own:
 The valiant Soldan Artabano strong
 Of Boecan Isle, by her was overthrown,
 And by his hand, the bodies dead among,
 Alvante, that durst his mistress wound, fell down,
 And she between the eyes hit Arimont,
 Who hurt her lord, and cleft in twain his front.

XXXVIII
 But Altamore who had that wing to lead
 Far greater slaughter on the Christians made;
 For where he turned his sword, or twined his steed,
 He slew, or man and beast on earth down laid,
 Happy was he that was at first struck dead,
 That fell not down on live, for whom his blade
 Had speared, the same cast in the dusty street
 His horse tore with his teeth, bruised with his feet.

XXXIX
 By this brave Persian’s valor, killed and slain
 Were strong Brunello and Ardonia great;
 The first his head and helm had cleft in twain,
 The last in stranger-wise he did intreat,
 For through his heart he pierced, and through the vein
 Where laughter hath his fountain and his seat,
 So that, a dreadful thing, believed uneath,
 He laughed for pain, and laughed himself to death.

XL
 Nor these alone with that accursed knife,
 Of this sweet light and breath deprived lie;
 But with that cruel weapon lost their life
 Gentonio, Guascar, Rosimond, and Guy;
 Who knows how many in that fatal strife
 He slew? what knights his courser fierce made die?
 The names and countries of the people slain
 Who tells? their wounds and deaths who can explain?

XLI
 With this fierce king encounter durst not one.
 Not one durst combat him in equal field,
 Gildippes undertook that task alone;
 No doubt could make her shrink, no danger yield,
 By Thermodont was never Amazone,
 Who managed steeled axe, or carried shield,
 That seemed so bold as she, so strong, so light,
 When forth she run to meet that dreadful knight.

XLII
 She hit him, where with gold and rich anmail,
 His diadem did on his helmet flame,
 She broke and cleft the crown, and caused him veil
 His proud and lofty top, his crest down came,
 Strong seemed her arm that could so well assail:
 The Pagan shook for spite and blushed for shame,
 Forward he rushed, and would at once requite
 Shame with disgrace, and with revenge despite.

XLIII
 Right on the front he gave that lady kind
 A blow so huge, so strong, so great, so sore,
 That out of sense and feeling, down she twined:
 But her dear knight his love from ground upbore,
 Were it their fortune, or his noble mind,
 He stayed his hand and strook the dame no more:
 A lion so stalks by, and with proud eyes
 Beholds, but scorns to hurt a man that lies.

XLIV
 This while Ormondo false, whose cruel hand
 Was armed and prest to give the trait’rous blow,
 With all his fellows mongst Godfredo’s band
 Entered unseen, disguised that few them know:
 The thievish wolves, when night o’ershades the land,
 That seem like faithful dogs in shape and show,
 So to the closed folds in secret creep,
 And entrance seek; to kill some harmless sheep.

XLV
 He proached nigh, and to Godfredo’s side
 The bloody Pagan now was placed near:
 But when his colors gold and white he spied,
 And saw the other signs that forged were,
 “See, see, this traitor false!” the captain cried,
 “That like a Frenchman would in show appear,
 Behold how near his mates and he are crept!”
 This said, upon the villain forth he leapt;

LXVI
 Deadly he wounded him, and that false knight
 Nor strikes nor wards nor striveth to be gone;
 But, as Medusa’s head were in his sight,
 Stood like a man new turned to marble stone,
 All lances broke, unsheathed all weapons bright,
 All quivers emptied were on them alone,
 In parts so many were the traitors cleft,
 That those dead men had no dead bodies left.

LXVII
 When Godfrey was with Pagan blood bespread,
 He entered then the fight and that was past
 Where the bold Persian fought and combated,
 Where the close ranks he opened, cleft and brast;
 Before the knight the troops and squadrons fled,
 As Afric dust before the southern blast;
 The Duke recalled them, in array them placed,
 Stayed those that fled, and him assailed that chased.

LXVIII
 The champions strong there fought a battle stout,
 Troy never saw the like by Xanthus old:
 A conflict sharp there was meanwhile on foot
 Twixt Baldwin good and Muleasses bold:
 The horsemen also near the mountains root,
 And in both wings, a furious skirmish hold,
 And where the barbarous duke in person stood,
 Twixt Tisiphernes and Adrastus proud;

XLIX
 With Emiren Robert the Norman strove,
 Long time they fought, yet neither lost nor won;
 The other Robert’s helm the Indian clove,
 And broke his arms, their fight would soon be done:
 From place to place did Tisiphernes rove,
 And found no match, against him none dust run,
 But where the press was thickest thither flew
 The knight, and at each stroke felled, hurt, or slew.

L
 Thus fought they long, yet neither shrink nor yield,
 In equal balance hung their hope and fear:
 All full of broken lances lay the field,
 All full of arms that cloven and shattered were;
 Of swords, some to the body nail the shield,
 Some cut men’s throats, and some their bellies tear;
 Of bodies, some upright, some grovelling lay,
 And for themselves eat graves out of the clay.

LI
 Beside his lord slain lay the noble steed,
 There friend with friend lay killed like lovers true,
 There foe with foe, the live under the dead,
 The victor under him whom late he slew:
 A hoarse unperfect sound did eachwhere spread,
 Whence neither silence, nor plain outcries flew:
 There fury roars, ire threats, and woe complains,
 One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains.

LII
 The arms that late so fair and glorious seem,
 Now soiled and slubbered, sad and sullen grow,
 The steel his brightness lost, the gold his beam;
 The colors had no pride nor beauty’s show;
 The plumes and feathers on their crests that stream,
 Are strowed wide upon the earth below:
 The hosts both clad in blood, in dust and mire,
 Had changed their cheer, their pride, their rich attire.

LIII
 But now the Moors, Arabians, Ethiops black,
 Of the left wing that held the utmost marge,
 Spread forth their troops, and purposed at the back
 And side their heedless foes to assail and charge:
 Slingers and archers were not slow nor slack
 To shoot and cast, when with his battle large
 Rinaldo came, whose fury, haste and ire,
 Seemed earthquake, thunder, tempest, storm and fire.

LIV
 The first he met was Asimire, his throne
 That set in Meroe’s hot sunburnt land,
 He cut his neck in twain, flesh, skin and bone,
 The sable head down tumbled on the sand;
 But when by death of this black prince alone
 The taste of blood and conquest once he fand,
 Whole squadrons then, whole troops to earth he brought,
 Things wondrous, strange, incredible he wrought.

LV
 He gave more deaths than strokes, and yet his blows
 Upon his feeble foes fell oft and thick,
 To move three tongues as a fierce serpent shows,
 Which rolls the one she hath swift, speedy, quick,
 So thinks each Pagan; each Arabian trows
 He wields three swords, all in one hilt that stick;
 His readiness their eyes so blinded hath,
 Their dread that wonder bred, fear gave it faith.

LVI
 The Afric tyrants and the negro kings
 Fell down on heaps, drowned each in other’s blood,
 Upon their people ran the knights he brings,
 Pricked forward by their guide’s example good,
 Killed were the Pagans, broke their bows and slings:
 Some died, some fell; some yielded, none withstood:
 A massacre was this, no fight; these put
 Their foes to death, those hold their throats to cut.

LVII
 Small while they stood, with heart and hardy face,
 On their bold breasts deep wounds and hurts to bear,
 But fled away, and troubled in the chase
 Their ranks disordered be with too much fear:
 Rinaldo followed them from place to place,
 Till quite discomfit and dispersed they were.
 That done, he stays, and all his knights recalls,
 And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls.

LVIII
 Like as the wind stopped by some wood or hill,
 Grows strong and fierce, tears boughs and trees in twain,
 But with mild blasts, more temperate, gentle, still,
 Blows through the ample field or spacious plain;
 Against the rocks as sea-waves murmur shrill,
 But silent pass amid the open main:
 Rinaldo so, when none his force withstood,
 Assuaged his fury, calmed his angry mood;

LIX
 He scorned upon their fearful backs that fled
 To wreak his ire and spend his force in vain,
 But gainst the footmen strong his troops he led,
 Whose side the Moors had open left and plain,
 The Africans that should have succored
 That battle, all were run away or slain,
 Upon their flank with force and courage stout
 His men at arms assailed the bands on foot:

LX
 He brake their pikes, and brake their close array,
 Entered their battle, felled them down around,
 So wind or tempest with impetuous sway
 The ears of ripened corn strikes flat to ground:
 With blood, arms, bodies dead, the hardened clay
 Plastered the earth, no grass nor green was found;
 The horsemen running through and through their bands,
 Kill, murder, slay, few scape, not one withstands.

LXI
 Rinaldo came where his forlorn Armide
 Sate on her golden chariot mounted high,
 A noble guard she had on every side
 Of lords, of lovers, and much chivalry:
 She knew the man when first his arms she spied,
 Love, hate, wrath, sweet desire strove in her eye,
 He changed somedeal his look and countenance bold,
 She changed from frost to fire, from heat to cold.

LXII
 The prince passed by the chariot of his dear
 Like one that did his thoughts elsewhere bestow,
 Yet suffered not her knights and lovers near
 Their rival so to scape withouten blow,
 One drew his sword, another couched his spear,
 Herself an arrow sharp set in her bow,
 Disdain her ire new sharped and kindled hath,
 But love appeased her, love assuaged her wrath.

LXIII
 Love bridled fury, and revived of new
 His fire, not dead, though buried in displeasure,
 Three times her angry hand the bow updrew,
 And thrice again let slack the string at leisure;
 But wrath prevailed at last, the reed outflew,
 For love finds mean, but hatred knows no measure,
 Outflew the shaft, but with the shaft, this charm,
 This wish she sent: Heaven grant it do no harm:

LXIV
 She bids the reed return the way it went,
 And pierce her heart which so unkind could prove,
 Such force had love, though lost and vainly spent,
 What strength hath happy, kind and mutual love?
 But she that gentle thought did straight repent,
 Wrath, fury, kindness, in her bosom strove,
 She would, she would not, that it missed or hit,
 Her eyes, her heart, her wishes followed it.

LXV
 But yet in vain the quarrel lighted not,
 For on his hauberk hard the knight it hit,
 Too hard for woman’s shaft or woman’s shot,
 Instead of piercing, there it broke and split;
 He turned away, she burnt with fury hot,
 And thought he scorned her power, and in that fit
 Shot oft and oft, her shafts no entrance found,
 And while she shot, love gave her wound on wound.

LXVI
 “And is he then unpierceable,” quoth she,
 “That neither force nor foe he needs regard?
 His limbs, perchance, armed with that hardness be,
 Which makes his heart so cruel and so hard,
 No shot that flies from eye or hand I see
 Hurts him, such rigor doth his person guard,
 Armed, or disarmed; his foe or mistress kind
 Despised alike, like hate, like scorn I find.

LXVII
 “But what new form is left, device or art,
 By which, to which exchanged, I might find grace?
 For in my knights, and all that take my part,
 I see no help; no hope, no trust I place;
 To his great prowess, might, and valiant heart,
 All strength is weak, all courage vile and base.”
 This said she, for she saw how through the field
 Her champions fly, faint, tremble, fall and yield.

LXVIII
 Nor left alone can she her person save,
 But to be slain or taken stands in fear,
 Though with a bow a javelin long she have,
 Yet weak was Phebe’s bow, blunt Pallas’ spear.
 But, as the swan, that sees the eagle brave
 Threatening her flesh and silver plumes to tear,
 Falls down, to hide her mongst the shady brooks:
 Such were her fearful motions, such her looks.

LXIX
 But Altamore, this while that strove and sought
 From shameful flight his Persian host to stay,
 That was discomfit and destroyed to nought,
 Whilst he alone maintained the fight and fray,
 Seeing distressed the goddess of his thought,
 To aid her ran, nay flew, and laid away
 All care both of his honor and his host:
 If she were safe, let all the world be lost.

LXX
 To the ill-guarded chariot swift he flew,
 His weapon made him way with bloody war:
 Meanwhile Lord Godfrey and Rinaldo slew
 His feeble bands, his people murdered are,
 He saw their loss, but aided not his crew,
 A better lover than a leader far,
 He set Armida safe, then turned again
 With tardy succor, for his folk were slain.

LXXI
 And on that side the woful prince beheld
 The battle lost, no help nor hope remained;
 But on the other wing the Christians yield,
 And fly, such vantage there the Egyptians gained,
 One of the Roberts was nigh slain in field;
 The other by the Indian strong constrained
 To yield himself his captive and his slave;
 Thus equal loss and equal foil they have.

LXXII
 Godfredo took the time and season fit
 To bring again his squadrons in array,
 And either camp well ordered, ranged and knit,
 Renewed the furious battle, fight and fray,
 New streams of blood were shed, new swords them hit;
 New combats fought, new spoils were borne away,
 And unresolved and doubtful, on each side,
 Did praise and conquest, Mars and Fortune ride.

LXXIII
 Between the armies twain while thus the