Part 40 (1/2)
I Now death or fear or care to save their lives From their forsaken walls the Pagans chase: Yet neither force nor fear nor wisdom drives The constant knight Argantes from his place; Alone against ten thousand foes he strives, Yet dreadless, doubtless, careless seemed his face, Nor death, nor danger, but disgrace he fears, And still unconquered, though o'erset, appears.
II But mongst the rest upon his helmet gay With his broad sword Tancredi came and smote: The Pagan knew the prince by his array, By his strong blows, his armor and his coat; For once they fought, and when night stayed that fray, New time they chose to end their combat hot, But Tancred failed, wherefore the Pagan knight Cried, ”Tancred, com'st thou thus, thus late to fight?
III ”Too late thou com'st, and not alone to war, But yet the fight I neither shun nor fear, Although from knighthood true thou errest far, Since like an engineer thou dost appear, That tower, that troop, thy s.h.i.+eld and safety are, Strange kind of arms in single fight to bear; Yet shalt thou not escape, O conqueror strong Of ladies fair, sharp death, to avenge that wrong.”
IV Lord Tancred smiled, with disdain and scorn, And answerd thus, ”To end our strife,” quoth he, ”Behold at last I come, and my return, Though late, perchance will be too soon for thee; For thou shalt wish, of hope and help forlorn, Some sea or mountain placed twixt thee and me, And well shalt know before we end this fray No fear of cowardice hath caused my stay.
V ”But come aside, thou by whose prowess dies The monsters, knights and giants in all lands, The killer of weak women thee defies.”
This said, he turned to his fighting bands, And bids them all retire. ”Forbear,” he cries, ”To strike this knight, on him let none lay hands; For mine he is, more than a common foe, By challenge new and promise old also.”
VI ”Descend,” the fierce Circa.s.sian gan reply, ”Alone, or all this troop for succor take To deserts waste, or place frequented high, For vantage none I will the fight forsake:”
Thus given and taken was the bold defy, And through the press, agreed so, they brake, Their hatred made them one, and as they went, Each knight his foe did for despite defend:
VII Great was his thirst of praise, great the desire That Tancred had the Pagan's blood to spill, Nor could that quench his wrath or calm his ire If other hand his foe should foil or kill.
He saved him with his s.h.i.+eld, and cried ”Retire!”
To all he met, ”and do this knight none ill:”
And thus defending gainst his friends his foe, Through thousand angry weapons safe they go.
VII They left the city, and they left behind G.o.dfredo's camp, and far beyond it pa.s.sed, And came where into creeks and bosoms blind A winding hill his corners turned and cast, A valley small and shady dale they find Amid the mountains steep so laid and placed As if some theatre or closed place Had been for men to fight or beasts to chase.
IX There stayed the champions both with rueful eyes, Argantes gan the fortress won to view; Tancred his foe withouten s.h.i.+eld espies, And said, ”Whereon doth thy sad heart devise?
Think'st thou this hour must end thy life untrue?
If this thou fear, and dost foresee thy fate, Thy fear is vain, thy foresight comes too late.”
X ”I think,” quoth he, ”on this distressed town, The aged Queen of Judah's ancient land, Now lost, now sacked, spoiled and trodden down, Whose fall in vain I strived to withstand, A small revenge for Sion's fort o'erthrown, That head can be, cut off by my strong hand.”
This said, together with great heed they flew, For each his foe for bold and hardy knew.
XI Tancred of body active was and light, Quick, nimble, ready both of hand and foot; But higher by the head, the Pagan knight Of limbs far greater was, of heart as stout: Tancred laid low and traversed in his fight, Now to his ward retired, now struck out, Oft with his sword his foe's fierce blows he broke, And rather chose to ward-than bear his stroke.
XII But bold and bolt upright Argantes fought, Unlike in gesture, like in skill and art, His sword outstretched before him far he brought, Nor would his weapon touch, but pierce his heart, To catch his point Prince Tancred strove and sought, But at his breast or helm's unclosed part He threatened death, and would with stretched-out brand His entrance close, and fierce a.s.saults withstand.
XIII With a tall s.h.i.+p so doth a galley fight, When the still winds stir not the unstable main; Where this in nimbleness as that in might Excels; that stands, this goes and comes again, And s.h.i.+fts from prow to p.o.o.p with turnings light; Meanwhile the other doth unmoved remain, And on her nimble foe approaching nigh, Her weighty engines tumbleth down from high.
XIV The Christian sought to enter on his foe, Voiding his point, which at his breast was bent; Argantes at his face a thrust did throw, Which while the Prince awards and doth prevent, His ready hand the Pagan turned so, That all defence his quickness far o'erwent, And pierced his side, which done, he said and smiled, ”The craftsman is in his own craft beguiled.”
XV Tancredi bit his lip for scorn and shame, Nor longer stood on points of fence and skill, But to revenge so fierce and fast he came As if his hand could not o'ertake his will, And at his visor aiming just, gan frame To his proud boast an answer sharp, but still Argantes broke the thrust; and at half-sword, Swift, hardy, bold, in stepped the Christian lord.
XVI With his left foot fast forward gan he stride, And with his left the Pagan's right arm bent, With his right hand meanwhile the man's right side He cut, he wounded, mangled, tore and rent.
”To his victorious teacher,” Tancred cried, ”His conquered scholar hath this answer sent;”
Argantes chafed, struggled, turned and twined, Yet could not so his captive arm unbind:
XVII His sword at last he let hang by the chain, And griped his hardy foe in both his hands, In his strong arms Tancred caught him again, And thus each other held and wrapped in bands.
With greater might Alcides did not strain The giant Antheus on the Lybian sands, On holdfast knots their brawny arms they cast, And whom he hateth most, each held embraced:
XVIII Such was their wrestling, such their shocks and throws That down at once they tumbled both to ground, Argantes,--were it hap or skill, who knows, His better hand loose and in freedom found; But the good Prince, his hand more fit for blows, With his huge weight the Pagan underbound; But he, his disadvantage great that knew, Let go his hold, and on his feet up flew:
XIX Far slower rose the unwieldy Saracine, And caught a rap ere he was reared upright.
But as against the bl.u.s.tering winds a pine Now bends his top, now lifts his head on height, His courage so, when it 'gan most decline, The man reinforced, and advanced his might, And with fierce change of blows renewed the fray, Where rage for skill, horror for art, bore sway.