Part 38 (1/2)
XXIII Whereso he stepped, it seemed the joyful ground Renewed the verdure of her flowery weed, A fountain here, a wellspring there he found; Here bud the roses, there the lilies spread The aged wood o'er and about him round Flourished with blossoms new, new leaves, new seed, And on the boughs and branches of those treen, The bark was softened, and renewed the green.
XXIV The manna on each leaf did pearled lie, The honey stilled from the tender rind; Again he heard that wondrous harmony, Of songs and sweet complaints of lovers kind, The human voices sung a triple high, To which respond the birds, the streams, the wind, But yet unseen those nymphs, those singers were, Unseen the lutes, harps, viols which they bear.
XXV He looked, he listened, yet his thoughts denied To think that true which he both heard and see, A myrtle in an ample plain he spied, And thither by a beaten path went he: The myrtle spread her mighty branches wide, Higher than pine or palm or cypress tree: And far above all other plants was seen That forest's lady and that desert's queen.
XXVI Upon the trees his eyes Rinaldo bent, And there a marvel great and strange began; An aged oak beside him cleft and rent, And from his fertile hollow womb forth ran, Clad in rare weeds and strange habiliment, A nymph, for age able to go to man, An hundred plants beside, even in his sight, Childed an hundred nymphs, so great, so dight.
XXVII Such as on stages play, such as we see The Dryads painted whom wild Satyrs love, Whose arms half-naked, locks untrussed be, With buskins laced on their legs above, And silken robes tucked short above their knee; Such seemed the sylvan daughters of this grove, Save that instead of shafts and boughs of tree, She bore a lute, a harp, or cittern she.
XXVIII And wantonly they cast them in a ring, And sung and danced to move his weaker sense, Rinaldo round about environing, As centres are with their circ.u.mference; The tree they compa.s.sed eke, and gan to sing, That woods and streams admired their excellence; ”Welcome, dear lord, welcome to this sweet grove, Welcome our lady's hope, welcome her love.
XXIX ”Thou com'st to cure our princess, faint and sick For love, for love of thee, faint, sick, distressed; Late black, late dreadful was this forest thick, Fit dwelling for sad folk with grief oppressed, See with thy coming how the branches quick Revived are, and in new blosoms dressed:”
This was their song, and after, from it went First a sweet sound, and then the myrtle rent.
x.x.x If antique times admired Silenus old That oft appeared set on his lazy a.s.s, How would they wonder if they had behold Such sights as from the myrtle high did pa.s.s?
Thence came a lady fair with locks of gold, That like in shape, in face and beauty was To sweet Armide; Rinaldo thinks he spies Her gestures, smiles, and glances of her eyes.
x.x.xI On him a sad and smiling look she cast, Which twenty pa.s.sions strange at once bewrays: ”And art thou come,” quoth she, ”returned at last To her from whom but late thou ran'st thy ways?
Com'st thou to comfort me for sorrows past?
To ease my widow nights and careful days?
Or comest thou to work me grief and harm?
Why nilt thou speak?--why not thy face disarm?
x.x.xII ”Com'st thou a friend or foe? I did not frame That golden bridge to entertain my foe, Nor opened flowers and fountains as you came, To welcome him with joy that brings me woe: Put off thy helm, rejoice me with the flame Of thy bright eyes, whence first my fires did grow.
Kiss me, embrace me, if you further venture, Love keeps the gate, the fort is eath to enter.”
x.x.xIII Thus as she woos she rolls her rueful eyes With piteous look, and changeth oft her cheer, An hundred sighs from her false heart upflies, She sobs, she mourns, it is great ruth to hear; The hardest breast sweet pity mollifies, What stony heart resists a woman's tear?
But yet the knight, wise, wary, not unkind, Drew forth his sword and from her careless twined.
x.x.xIV Toward the tree he marched, she thither start, Before him stepped, embraced the plant and cried, ”Ah, never do me such a spiteful part, To cut my tree, this forest's joy and pride, Put up thy sword, else pierce therewith the heart Of thy forsaken and despised Armide; For through this breast, and through this heart unkind To this fair tree thy sword shall pa.s.sage find.”
x.x.xV He lift his brand, nor cared though oft she prayed, And she her form to other shape did change; Such monsters huge when men in dreams are laid Oft in their idle fancies roam and range: Her body swelled, her face obscure was made, Vanished her garments, her face and vestures strange, A giantess before him high she stands, Like Briareus armed with an hundred hands.
x.x.xVI With fifty swords, and fifty targets bright, She threatened death, she roared, cried and fought, Each other nymph in armor likewise dight, A Cyclops great became: he feared them naught, But on the myrtle smote with all his might, That groaned like living souls to death nigh brought, The sky seemed Pluto's court, the air seemed h.e.l.l, Therein such monsters roar, such spirits yell.
x.x.xVII Lightened the heavens above, the earth below Roared loud, that thundered, and this shook; Bl.u.s.tered the tempests strong, the whirlwinds blow, The bitter storm drove hailstones in his look; But yet his arm grew neither weak nor slow, Nor of that fury heed or care he took, Till low to earth the wounded tree down bended; Then fled the spirits all, the charms all ended.
x.x.xVIII The heavens grew clear, the air waxed calm and still, The wood returned to his wonted state, Of withcrafts free, quite void of spirits ill; Of horror full, but horror there innate; He further proved if aught withstood his will To cut those trees as did the charms of late, And finding naught to stop him, smiled, and said, ”O shadows vain! O fools, of shades afraid!”
x.x.xIX From thence home to the campward turned the knight, The hermit cried, upstarting from his seat, ”Now of the wood the charms have lost their might, The sprites are conquered, ended is the feat, See where he comes!” In glistering white all dight Appeared the man, bold, stately, high and great, His eagle's silver wings to s.h.i.+ne begun With wondrous splendor gainst the golden sun.
XL The camp received him with a joyful cry, A cry the dales and hills about that flied; Then G.o.dfrey welcomed him with honors high, His glory quenched all spite, all envy killed: ”To yonder dreadful grove,” quoth he, ”went I, And from the fearful wood, as me you willed, Have driven the sprites away, thither let be Your people sent, the way is safe and free.”
XLI Sent were the workmen thither, thence they brought Timber enough, by good advice select, And though by skilless builders framed and wrought Their engines rude and rams were late elect, Yet now the forts and towers from whence they fought Were framed by a cunning architect, William, of all the Genoese lord and guide, Which late ruled all the seas from side to side;
XLII But forced to retire from him at last, The Pagan fleet the seas moist empire won, His men with all their stuff and store in haste Home to the camp with their commander run, In skill, in wit, in cunning him surpa.s.sed Yet never engineer beneath the sun, Of carpenters an hundred large he brought, That what their lord devised made and wrought.
XLIII This man began with wondrous art to make, Not rams, not mighty brakes, not slings alone, Wherewith the firm and solid walls to shake, To cast a dart, or throw a shaft or stone; But framed of pines and firs, did undertake To build a fortress huge, to which was none Yet ever like, whereof he clothed the sides Against the b.a.l.l.s of fire with raw bull's hides.