Part 15 (1/2)
The champion list not more with words contend, But in his heart kept close his griefs and fears, He blamed love, chance gan he reprehend, And gainst enchantment huge complaints he rears.
”It were small loss,” softly he thus begun, ”To lose the brightness of the s.h.i.+ning sun;
XLIX ”But I, alas, the golden beam forego Of my far brighter sun; nor can I say If these poor eyes shall e'er be blessed so, As once again to view that s.h.i.+ning ray:”
Then thought he on his proud Circa.s.sian foe, And said, ”Ah! how shall I perform that fray?
He, and the world with him, will Tancred blame, This is my grief, my fault, mine endless shame.”
L While those high spirits of this champion good, With love and honor's care are thus oppressed, While he torments himself, Argantes wood, Waxed weary of his bed and of his rest, Such hate of peace, and such desire of blood, Such thirst of glory, boiled in his breast; That though he scant could stir or stand upright, Yet longed he for the appointed day to fight.
LI The night which that expected day forewent, Scantly the Pagan closed his eyes to sleep, He told how night her sliding hours spent, And rose ere springing day began to peep; He called for armor, which incontinent Was brought by him that used the same to keep, That harness rich old Aladine him gave, A worthy present for a champion brave.
LII He donned them on, not long their riches eyed, Nor did he aught with so great weight incline, His wonted sword upon his thigh he tied, The blade was old and tough, of temper fine.
As when a comet far and wide descried, In scorn of Phoebus midst bright heaven doth s.h.i.+ne, And tidings sad of death and mischief brings To mighty lords, to monarchs, and to kings:
LIII So shone the Pagan in bright armor clad, And rolled his eyes great swollen with ire and blood, His dreadful gestures threatened horror sad, And ugly death upon his forehead stood; Not one of all his squires the courage had To approach their master in his angry mood, Above his head he shook his naked blade, And gainst the subtle air vain battle made.
LIV ”The Christian thief,” quoth he, ”that was so bold To combat me in hard and single fight, Shall wounded fall inglorious on the mould, His locks with clods of blood and dust bedight, And living shall with watery eyes behold How from his back I tear his harness bright, Nor shall his dying words me so entreat, But that I'll give his flesh to dogs for meat.”
LV Like as a bull when, p.r.i.c.ked with jealousy, He spies the rival of his hot desire, Through all the fields doth bellow, roar and cry, And with his thundering voice augments his ire, And threatening battle to the empty sky, Tears with his horn each tree, plant, bush and brier, And with his foot casts up the sand on height, Defying his strong foe to deadly fight:
LVI Such was the Pagan's fury, such his cry.
A herald called he then, and thus he spake; ”Go to the camp, and in my name, defy The man that combats for his Jesus' sake;”
This said, upon his steed he mounted high, And with him did his n.o.ble prisoner take, The town he thus forsook, and on the green He ran, as mad or frantic he had been.
LVII A bugle small he winded loud and shrill, That made resound the fields and valleys near, Louder than thunder from Olympus hill Seemed that dreadful blast to all that hear; The Christian lords of prowess, strength and skill, Within the imperial tent a.s.sembled were, The herald there in boasting terms defied Tancredi first, and all that durst beside.
LVIII With sober chear G.o.dfredo look'd about, And viewed at leisure every lord and knight; But yet for all his looks not one stepped out, With courage bold, to undertake the fight: Absent were all the Christian champions stout, No news of Tancred since his secret flight; Boemond far off, and banished from the crew Was that strong prince who proud Gernando slew:
LIX And eke those ten which chosen were by lot, And all the worthies of the camp beside, After Armida false were followed hot, When night were come their secret flight to hide; The rest their hands and hearts that trusted not, Blushed for shame, yet silent still abide; For none there was that sought to purchase fame In so great peril, fear exiled shame.
LX The angry duke their fear discovered plain, By their pale looks and silence from each part, And as he moved was with just disdain, These words he said, and from his seat upstart: ”Unworthy life I judge that coward swain To hazard it even now that wants the heart, When this vile Pagan with his glorious boast Dishonors and defies Christ's sacred host.
LXI ”But let my camp sit still in peace and rest, And my life's hazard at their ease behold.
Come bring me here my fairest arms and best;”
And they were brought sooner than could be told.
But gentle Raymond in his aged breast, Who had mature advice, and counsel old, Than whom in all the camp were none or few Of greater might, before G.o.dfredo drew,
LXII And gravely said, ”Ah, let it not betide, On one man's hand to venture all this host!
No private soldier thou, thou art our guide, If thou miscarry, all our hope were lost, By thee must Babel fall, and all her pride; Of our true faith thou art the prop and post, Rule with thy sceptre, conquer with thy word, Let others combat make with spear and sword.
LXIII ”Let me this Pagan's glorious pride a.s.suage, These aged arms can yet their weapons use, Let others shun Bellona's dreadful rage, These silver locks shall not Raymondo scuse: Oh that I were in prime of l.u.s.ty age, Like you that this adventure brave refuse, And dare not once lift up your coward eyes, Gainst him that you and Christ himself defies!
LXIV ”Or as I was when all the lords of fame And Germain princes great stood by to view, In Conrad's court, the second of that name, When Leopold in single fight I slew; A greater praise I reaped by the same, So strong a foe in combat to subdue, Than he should do who all alone should chase Or kill a thousand of these Pagans base.
LXV ”Within these arms, had I that strength again, This boasting Paynim had not lived till now, Yet in this breast doth courage still remain; For age or years these members shall not bow; And if I be in this encounter slain, Scotfree Argantes shall not scape, I vow; Give me mine arms, this battle shall with praise Augment mine honor, got in younger days.”
LXVI The jolly baron old thus bravely spake, His words are spurs to virtue; every knight That seemed before to tremble and to quake, Now talked bold, example hath such might; Each one the battle fierce would undertake, Now strove they all who should begin the fight; Baldwin and Roger both, would combat fain, Stephen, Guelpho, Gernier and the Gerrards twain;
LXVII And Pyrrhus, who with help of Boemond's sword Proud Antioch by cunning sleight opprest; The battle eke with many a lowly word, Ralph, Rosimond, and Eberard request, A Scotch, an Irish, and an English lord, Whose lands the sea divides far from the rest, And for the fight did likewise humbly sue, Edward and his Gildippes, lovers true.