Seventeenth Book

Egypt’s great host in battle-ray forth brought,The Caliph sends with Godfrey’s power to fight;Armida, who Rinaldo’s ruin sought,To them adjoins herself and Syria’s might.To satisfy her cruel will and thought,She gives herself to him that kills her knight:He takes his fatal arms, and in his shieldHis ancestors and their great deeds beheld.

Gaza the city on the frontier standsOf Juda’s realm, as men to Egypt ride,Built near the sea, beside it of dry sandsHuge wildernesses lie and deserts wideWhich the strong winds lift from the parched landsAnd toss like roaring waves in roughest tide,That from those storms poor passengers almostNo refuge find, but there are drowned and lost.

Within this town, won from the Turks of yoreStrong garrison the king of Egypt placed,And for it nearer was, and fitted moreThat high emprise to which his thoughts he cast,He left great Memphis, and to Gaza boreHis regal throne, and there, from countries vastOf his huge empire all the puissant hostAssembled he, and mustered on the coast.

Come say, my Muse, what manner times these were,And in those times how stood the state of things,What power this monarch had, what arms they bear,What nations subject, and what friends he brings;From all lands the southern ocean near,Or morning star, came princes, dukes and kings,And only thou of half the world well-nighThe armies, lords, and captains canst descry.

When Egypt from the Greekish emperorRebelled first, and Christ’s true faith denied,Of Mahomet’s descent a warriorThere set his throne and ruled that kingdom wide,Caliph he hight, and Caliphs since that hourAre his successors named all beside:So Nilus old his kings long time had seenThat Ptolemies and Pharaohs called had been.

Established was that kingdom in short while,And grew so great, that over Asia’s landsAnd Lybia’s realms it stretched many a mile,From Syria’s coasts as far as Cirene sands,And southward passed gainst the course of Nile,Through the hot clime where burnt Syene stands,Hence bounded in with sandy deserts waste,And thence with Euphrates’ rich flood embraced.

Maremma, myrrh and spices that doth bring,And all the rich red sea it comprehends,And to those lands, toward the morning springThat lie beyond that gulf, it far extends;Great is that empire, greater by the kingThat rules it now, whose worth the land amends,And makes more famous, lord thereof by blood,By wisdom, valor, and all virtues good.

With Turks and Persians war he oft did wage,And oft he won, and sometimes lost the field,Nor could his adverse fortune aught assuageHis valor’s heat or make his proud heart yield,But when he grew unfit for war through age,He sheathed his sword and laid aside his shield:But yet his warlike mind he laid not down,Nor his great thirst of rule, praise and renown,

But by his knights still cruel wars maintained.So wise his words, so quick his wit appears,That of the kingdom large o’er which he reigned,The charge seemed not too weighty for his years;His greatness Afric’s lesser kings constrainedTo tremble at his name, all Ind him fears,And other realms that would his friendship hold;Some armed soldiers sent, some gifts, some gold.

This mighty prince assembled had the flowerOf all his realms, against the Frenchmen stout,To break their rising empire and their power,Nor of sure conquest had he fear or doubt:To him Armida came, even at the hourWhen in the plains, old Gaza’s walls without,The lords and leaders all their armies bringIn battle-ray, mustered before their king.

He on his throne was set, to which on heightWho clomb an hundred ivory stairs first told,Under a pentise wrought of silver bright,And trod on carpets made of silk and gold;His robes were such as best beseemen mightA king, so great, so grave, so rich, so old,And twined of sixty ells of lawn and moreA turban strange adorned his tresses hoar.

His right hand did his precious sceptre wield,His beard was gray, his looks severe and grave,And from his eyes, not yet made dim with eild,Sparkled his former worth and vigor brave,His gestures all the majesty upheildAnd state, as his old age and empire crave,So Phidias carved, Apelles so, pardie,Erst painted Jove, Jove thundering down from sky.

On either side him stood a noble lord,Whereof the first held in his upright handOf severe justice the unpartial sword;The other bare the seal, and causes scanned,Keeping his folk in peace and good accord,And termed was lord chancellor of the land;But marshal was the first, and used to leadHis armies forth to war, oft with good speed.

Of bold Circassians with their halberts long,About his throne his guards stood in a ring,All richly armed in gilden corslets strong,And by their sides their crooked swords down hing:Thus set, thus seated, his grave lords among,His hosts and armies great beheld the king,And every band as by his throne it went,Their ensigns low inclined, and arms down bent:

Their squadrons first the men of Egypt show,In four troops, and each his several guide,Of the high country two, two of the lowWhich Nile had won out of the salt seaside,His fertile slime first stopped the waters’ flow,Then hardened to firm land the plough to bide,So Egypt still increased, within far placedThat part is now where ships erst anchor cast.

The foremost band the people were that dwelledIn Alexandria’s rich and fertile plain,Along the western shore, whence Nile expelledThe greedy billows of the swelling main;Araspes was their guide, who more excelledIn wit and craft than strength or warlike pain,To place an ambush close, or to deviseA treason false, was none so sly, so wise.

The people next that gainst the morning raysAlong the coasts of Asia have their seat,Arontes led them, whom no warlike praiseEnnobled, but high birth and titles great,His helm ne’er made him sweat in toilsome frays,Nor was his sleep e’er broke with trumpet’s threat,But from soft ease to try the toil of fightHis fond ambition brought this carpet knight.

The third seemed not a troop or squadron small,But an huge host; nor seemed it so much grainIn Egypt grew as to sustain them all;Yet from one town thereof came all that train,A town in people to huge shires equal,That did a thousand streets and more contain,Great Caire it hight, whose commons from each sideCame swarming out to war, Campson their guide.

Next under Gazel marched they that ploughThe fertile lands above that town which lieUp to the place where Nilus tumbling lowFalls from his second cataract from high;The Egyptians weaponed were with sword and bow,No weight of helm or hauberk list they try,And richly armed, in their strong foes no dreedOf death but great desire of spoil they breed.

The naked folk of Barca these succeed,Unarmed half, Alarcon led that band,That long in deserts lived, in extreme need,On spoils and preys purchased by strength of hand.To battle strong unfit, their king did leadHis army next brought from Zumara land.Then he of Tripoli, for sudden fightAnd skirmish short, both ready, bold, and light.

Two captains next brought forth their bands to showWhom Stony sent and Happy Araby,Which never felt the cold of frost and snow,Or force of burning heat, unless fame lie,Where incense pure and all sweet odors grow,Where the sole phoenix doth revive, not die,And midst the perfumes rich and flowerets braveBoth birth and burial, cradle hath and grave.

Their clothes not rich, their garments were not gay,But weapons like the Egyptian troops they had,The Arabians next that have no certain stay,No house, no home, no mansion good or bad,But ever, as the Scythian hordes stray,From place to place their wandering cities gad:These have both voice and stature feminine,Hair long and black, black face, and fiery eyne.

Long Indian canes, with iron armed, they bear,And as upon their nimble steeds they ride,Like a swift storm their speedy troops appear,If winds so fast bring storms from heavens wide:By Syphax led the first Arabians were;Aldine the second squadron had no guide,And Abiazar proud, brought to the fightThe third, a thief, a murderer, not a knight.

The islanders came then their prince beforeWhose lands Arabia’s gulf enclosed about,Wherein they fish and gather oysters store,Whose shells great pearls rich and round pour out;The Red Sea sent with them from his left shore,Of negroes grim a black and ugly rout;These Agricalt and those Osmida brought,A man that set law, faith and truth at naught.

The Ethiops next which Meroe doth breed,That sweet and gentle isle of Meroe,Twixt Nile and Astrabore that far doth spread,Where two religions are, and kingdoms three,These Assimiro and Canario led,Both kings, both Pagans, and both subjects beTo the great Caliph, but the third king keptChrist’s sacred faith, nor to these wars outstepped.

After two kings, both subjects also, ride,And of two bands of archers had the charge,The first Soldan of Ormus placed in the wideHuge Persian Bay, a town rich, fair, and large:The last of Boecan, which at every tideThe sea cuts off from Persia’s southern marge,And makes an isle; but when it ebbs again,The passage there is sandy, dry and plain.

Nor thee, great Altamore, in her chaste bedThy loving queen kept with her dear embrace,She tore her locks, she smote her breast, and shedSalt tears to make thee stay in that sweet place,“Seem the rough seas more calm, cruel,” she said,“Than the mild looks of thy kind spouse’s face?Or is thy shield, with blood and dust defiled,A dearer armful than thy tender child?”

This was the mighty king of Samarcand,A captain wise, well skilled in feats of war,In courage fierce, matchless for strength of hand,Great was his praise, his force was noised far;His worth right well the Frenchmen understand,By whom his virtues feared and loved are:His men were armed with helms and hauberks strong,And by their sides broad swords and maces hong.

Then from the mansions bright of fresh AuroreAdrastus came, the glorious king of Ind,A snake’s green skin spotted with black he wore,That was made rich by art and hard by kind,An elephant this furious giant bore,He fierce as fire, his mounture swift as wind;Much people brought he from his kingdoms wide,Twixt Indus, Ganges, and the salt seaside.

The king’s own troop come next, a chosen crew,Of all the camp the strength, the crown, the flower,Wherein each soldier had with honors dueRewarded been, for service ere that hour;Their arms were strong for need, and fair for show,Upon fierce steeds well mounted rode this power,And heaven itself with the clear splendor shoneOf their bright armor, purple, gold and stone.

Mongst these Alarco fierce, and OdemareThe muster master was, and Hidraort,And Rimedon, whose rashness took no careTo shun death’s bitter stroke, in field or fort,Tigranes, Rapold stem, the men that fareBy sea, that robbed in each creek and port,Ormond, and Marlabust the Arabian named,Because that land rebellious he reclaimed.

There Pirga, Arimon, Orindo are,Brimarte the scaler, and with him SuifantThe breaker of wild horses brought from far;Then the great wresteler strong Aridamant,And Tisapherne, the thunderbolt of war,Whom none surpassed, whom none to match durst vauntAt tilt, at tourney, or in combat brave,With spear or lance, with sword, with mace or glaive.

A false Armenian did this squadron guide,That in his youth from Christ’s true faith and lightTo the blind lore of Paganism did slide,That Clement late, now Emireno, hight;Yet to his king he faithful was, and triedTrue in all causes, his in wrong and right:A cunning leader and a soldier bold,For strength and courage, young; for wisdom, old.

When all these regiments were passed and gone,Appeared Armide, and came her troop to show;Set in a chariot bright with precious stone,Her gown tucked up, and in her hand a bow;In her sweet face her new displeasures shone,Mixed with the native beauties there which grow,And quickened so her looks that in sharp wiseIt seems she threats and yet her threats entice.

Her chariot like Aurora’s glorious wain,With carbuncles and jacinths glistered round:Her coachman guided with the golden reinFour unicorns, by couples yoked and bound;Of squires and lovely ladies hundreds twain,Whose rattling quivers at their backs resound,On milk-white steeds, wait on the chariot bright,Their steeds to manage, ready; swift, to flight.

Followed her troop led forth by Aradin,Which Hidraort from Syria’s kingdom sent,As when the new-born phoenix doth beginTo fly to Ethiop-ward, at the fair bentOf her rich wings strange plumes and feathers thinHer crowns and chains with native gold besprent,The world amazed stands; and with her flyAn host of wondering birds, that sing and cry:

So passed Armida, looked on, gazed on, so,A wondrous dame in habit, gesture, face;There lived no wight to love so great a foeBut wished and longed those beauties to embrace,Scant seen, with anger sullen, sad for woe,She conquered all the lords and knights in place,What would she do, her sorrows passed, think you,When her fair eyes, her looks and smiles shall woo?

She passed, the king commanded EmirenOf his rich throne to mount the lofty stage,To whom his host, his army, and his men,He would commit, now in his graver age.With stately grace the man approached then;His looks his coming honor did presage:The guard asunder cleft and passage made,He to the throne up went, and there he stayed.

To earth he cast his eyes, and bent his knee:To whom the king thus gan his will explain,“To thee this sceptre, Emiren, to theeThese armies I commit, my place sustainMongst them, go set the king of Judah free,And let the Frenchmen feel my just disdain,Go meet them, conquer them, leave none alive;Or those that scape from battle, bring captive.”

Thus spake the tyrant, and the sceptre laidWith all his sovereign power upon the knight:“I take this sceptre at your hand,” he said,“And with your happy fortune go to fight,And trust, my lord, in your great virtue’s aidTo venge all Asia’s harms, her wrongs to right,Nor e’er but victor will I see your face;Our overthrow shall bring death, not disgrace.

“Heavens grant if evil, yet no mishap I dread,Or harm they threaten against this camp of thine,That all that mischief fall upon my head,Theirs be the conquest, and the danger mine;And let them safe bring home their captain dead,Buried in pomp of triumph’s glorious shine.”He ceased, and then a murmur loud up went,With noise of joy and sound of instrument.

Amid the noise and shout uprose the king,Environed with many a noble peerThat to his royal tent the monarch bring,And there he feasted them and made them cheer,To him and him he talked, and carved each thing,The greatest honored, meanest graced were;And while this mirth, this joy and feast doth last,Armida found fit time her nets to cast:

But when the feast was done, she, that espiedAll eyes on her fair visage fixed and bent,And by new notes and certain signs described,How love’s empoisoned fire their entrails brent,Arose, and where the king sate in his pride,With stately pace and humble gestures, went;And as she could in looks in voice she stroveFierce, stern, bold, angry, and severe to prove.

“Great Emperor, behold me here,” she said.“For thee, my country, and my faith to fight,A dame, a virgin, but a royal maid;And worthy seems this war a princess hight,For by the sword the sceptre is upstayed,This hand can use them both with skill and might,This hand of mine can strike, and at each blowThy foes and ours kill, wound, and overthrow.

“Nor yet suppose this is the foremost dayWherein to war I bent my noble thought,But for the surety of thy realms, and stayOf our religion true, ere this I wrought:Yourself best know if this be true I say,Or if my former deeds rejoiced you aught,When Godfrey’s hardy knights and princes strongI captive took, and held in bondage long.

“I took them, bound them, and so sent them boundTo thee, a noble gift, with whom they hadCondemned low in dungeon under groundForever dwelt, in woe and torment sad:So might thine host an easy way have foundTo end this doubtful war, with conquest glad,Had not Rinaldo fierce my knights all slain,And set those lords, his friends, at large again.

“Rinaldo is well known,” and there a longAnd true rehearsal made she of his deeds,“This is the knight that since hath done me wrong,Wrong yet untold, that sharp revengement needs:Displeasure therefore, mixed with reason strong,This thirst of war in me, this courage breeds;Nor how he injured me time serves to tell,Let this suffice, I seek revengement fell,

“And will procure it, for all shafts that flyLight not in vain; some work the shooter’s will,And Jove’s right hand with thunders cast from skyTakes open vengeance oft for secret ill:But if some champion dare this knight defyTo mortal battle, and by fight him kill,And with his hateful head will me present,That gift my soul shall please, my heart content:

“So please, that for reward enjoy he shall,The greatest gift I can or may afford,Myself, my beauty, wealth, and kingdoms all,To marry him, and take him for my lord,This promise will I keep whate’er befall,And thereto bind myself by oath and word:Now he that deems this purchase worth his pain,Let him step forth and speak, I none disdain.”

While thus the princess said, his hungry eyneAdrastus fed on her sweet beauty’s light,“The gods forbid,” quoth he, “one shaft of thineShould be discharged gainst that discourteous knight,His heart unworthy is, shootress divine,Of thine artillery to feel the might;To wreak thine ire behold me prest and fit,I will his head cut off, and bring thee it.

“I will his heart with this sharp sword divide,And to the vultures cast his carcass out.”Thus threatened he, but Tisapherne enviedTo hear his glorious vaunt and boasting stout,And said, “But who art thou, that so great prideThou showest before the king, me, and this rout?Pardie here are some such, whose worth exceedsThy vaunting much yet boast not of their deeds.”

The Indian fierce replied, “I am the manWhose acts his words and boasts have aye surpassed;But if elsewhere the words thou now beganHad uttered been, that speech had been thy last.”Thus quarrelled they; the monarch stayed them than,And ’twixt the angry knights his sceptre cast:Then to Armida said, “Fair Queen, I seeThy heart is stout, thy thoughts courageous be;

“Thou worthy art that their disdain and ireAt thy commands these knights should both appease,That gainst thy foe their courage hot as fireThou may’st employ, both when and where you please,There all their power and force, and what desireThey have to serve thee, may they show at ease.”The monarch held his peace when this was said,And they new proffer of their service made.

Nor they alone, but all that famous wereIn feats of arms boast that he shall be dead,All offer her their aid, all say and swear,To take revenge on his condemned head:So many arms moved she against her dear,And swore her darling under foot to tread,But he, since first the enchanted isle he left,Safe in his barge the roaring waves still cleft.

By the same way returned the well-taught boatBy which it came, and made like haste, like speed;The friendly wind, upon her sail that smote,So turned as to return her ship had need:The youth sometimes the Pole or Bear did note,Or wandering stars which dearest nights forthspread:Sometimes the floods, the hills, or mountains steep,Whose woody fronts o’ershade the silent deep.

Now of the camp the man the state inquires,Now asks the customs strange of sundry lands;And sailed, till clad in beams and bright attiresThe fourth day’s sun on the eastern threshold stands:But when the western seas had quenched those fires,Their frigate struck against the shore and sands;Then spoke their guide, “The land of PalestineThis is, here must your journey end and mine.”

The knights she set upon the shore all three,And vanished thence in twinkling of an eye,Uprose the night in whose deep blackness beAll colors hid of things in earth or sky,Nor could they house, or hold, or harbor see,Or in that desert sign of dwelling spy,Nor track of man or horse, or aught that mightInform them of some path or passage right.

When they had mused what way they travel should,From the west shore their steps at last they twined,And lo, far off at last their eyes beholdSomething, they wist not what, that clearly shinedWith rays of silver and with beams of goldWhich the dark folds of night’s black mantle lined.Forward they went and marched against the light,To see and find the thing that shone so bright.

High on a tree they saw an armor new,That glistered bright gainst Cynthia’s silver ray,Therein, like stars in skies, the diamonds showFret in the gilden helm and hauberk gay,The mighty shield all scored full they viewOf pictures fair, ranged in meet array;To keep them sate an aged man beside,Who to salute them rose, when them he spied.

The twain who first were sent in this pursuitOf their wise friend well knew the aged face:But when the wizard sage their first saluteReceived and quitted had with kind embrace,To the young prince, that silent stood and mute,He turned his speech, “In this unused placeFor you alone I wait, my lord,” quoth he,“My chiefest care your state and welfare be.

“For, though you wot it not, I am your friend,And for your profit work, as these can tell,I taught them how Armida’s charms to end,And bring you thither from love’s hateful cell,Now to my words, though sharp perchance, attend,Nor be aggrieved although they seem too fell,But keep them well in mind, till in the truthA wise and holier man instruct thy youth.

“Not underneath sweet shades and fountains shrill,Among the nymphs, the fairies, leaves and flowers;But on the steep, the rough and craggy hillOf virtue stands this bliss, this good of ours:By toil and travel, not by sitting stillIn pleasure’s lap, we come to honor’s bowers;Why will you thus in sloth’s deep valley lie?The royal eagles on high mountains fly.

“Nature lifts up thy forehead to the skies,And fills thy heart with high and noble thought,That thou to heavenward aye shouldst lift thine eyes,And purchase fame by deeds well done and wrought;She gives thee ire, by which not courage fliesTo conquests, not through brawls and battles foughtFor civil jars, nor that thereby you mightYour wicked malice wreak and cursed spite.

“But that your strength spurred forth with noble wrath,With greater fury might Christ’s foes assault,And that your bridle should with lesser scathEach secret vice, and kill each inward fault;For so his godly anger ruled hathEach righteous man beneath heaven’s starry vault,And at his will makes it now hot, now cold,Now lets it run, now doth it fettered hold.”

Thus parleyed he; Rinaldo, hushed and still,Great wisdom heard in those few words compiled,He marked his speech, a purple blush did fillHis guilty checks, down went his eyesight mild.The hermit by his bashful looks his willWell understood, and said, “Look up, my child,And painted in this precious shield beholdThe glorious deeds of thy forefathers old.

“Thine elders’ glory herein see and know,In virtue’s path how they trod all their days,Whom thou art far behind, a runner slowIn this true course of honor, fame and praise:Up, up, thyself incite by the fair showOf knightly worth which this bright shield bewrays,That be thy spur to praise!” At last the knightLooked up, and on those portraits bent his sight.

The cunning workman had in little spaceInfinite shapes of men there well expressed,For there described was the worthy raceAnd pedigree of all of the house of Est:Come from a Roman spring o’er all the placeFlowed pure streams of crystals east and west,With laurel crowned stood the princes old,Their wars the hermit and their battles told.

He showed them Caius first, when first in preyTo people strange the falling empire went,First Prince of Est, that did the sceptre swayO’er such as chose him lord by tree consent;His weaker neighbors to his rule obey,Need made them stoop, constraint doth force content;After, when Lord Honorius called the trainOf savage Goths into his land again,

And when all Italy did burn and flameWith bloody war, by this fierce people mad,When Rome a captive and a slave became,And to be quite destroyed was most afraid,Aurelius, to his everlasting fame,Preserved in peace the folk that him obeyed:Next whom was Forest, who the rage withstoodOf the bold Huns, and of their tyrant proud.

Known by his look was Attila the fell,Whose dragon eyes shone bright with anger’s spark,Worse faced than a dog, who viewed him wellSupposed they saw him grin and heard him bark;But when in single fight he lost the bell,How through his troops he fled there might you mark,And how Lord Forest after fortifiedAquilea’s town, and how for it he died.

For there was wrought the fatal end and fine,Both of himself and of the town he kept:But his great son renowned Acarine,Into his father’s place and honor stepped:To cruel fate, not to the Huns, AltineGave place, and when time served again forth leapt,And in the vale of Po built for his seatOf many a village a small city great;

Against the swelling flood he banked it strong,And thence uprose the fair and noble townWhere they of Est should by succession longCommand, and rule in bliss and high renown:Gainst Odoacer then he fought, but wrongOft spoileth right, fortune treads courage down,For there he died for his dear country’s sake,And of his father’s praise did so partake.

With him died Alforisio, Azzo wasWith his dear brother into exile sent,But homeward they in arms again repass—The Herule king oppressed—from banishment.His front through pierced with a dart, alas,Next them, of Est the Epaminondas went,That smiling seemed to cruel death to yield,When Totila was fled, and safe his shield.

Of Boniface I speak; Valerian,His son, in praise and power succeeded him,Who durst sustain, in years though scant a man,Of the proud Goths an hundred squadrons trim:Then he that gainst the Sclaves much honor wan,Ernesto, threatening stood with visage grim;Before him Aldoard, the Lombard stoutWho from Monselce boldly erst shut out.

There Henry was and Berengare the boldThat served great Charles in his conquest high,Who in each battle give the onset would,A hardy soldier and a captain sly;After, Prince Lewis did he well upholdAgainst his nephew, King of Italy,He won the field and took that king on live:Next him stood Otho with his children five.

Of Almeric the image next they view,Lord Marquis of Ferrara first create,Founder of many churches, that upthrewHis eyes, like one that used to contemplate;Gainst him the second Azzo stood in rew,With Berengarius that did long debate,Till after often change of fortune stroke,He won, and on all Italy laid the yoke.

Albert his son the Germans warred among,And there his praise and fame was spread so wide,That having foiled the Danes in battle strong,His daughter young became great Otho’s bride.Behind him Hugo stood with warfare long,That broke the horn of all the Romans’ pride,Who of all Italy the marquis hight,And Tuscan whole possessed as his right.

After Tebaldo, puissant BonifaceAnd Beatrice his dear possessed the stage;Nor was there left heir male of that great race,To enjoy the sceptre, state and heritage;The Princess Maud alone supplied the place,Supplied the want in number, sex and age;For far above each sceptre, throne and crown,The noble dame advanced her veil and gown.

With manlike vigor shone her noble look,And more than manlike wrath her face o’erspread,There the fell Normans, Guichard there forsookThe field, till then who never feared nor fled;Henry the Fourth she beat, and from him tookHis standard, and in Church it offered;Which done, the Pope back to the VaticanShe brought, and placed in Peter’s chair again.

As he that honored her and held her dear,Azzo the Fifth stood by her lovely side;But the fourth Azzo’s offspring far and nearSpread forth, and through Germania fructified;Sprung from the branch did Guelpho bold appear,Guelpho his son by Cunigond his bride,And in Bavaria’s field transplanted newThe Roman graft flourished, increased and grew.

A branch of Est there in the Guelfian treeEngrafted was, which of itself was old,Whereon you might the Guelfoes fairer see,Renew their sceptres and their crowns of gold,Of which Heaven’s good aspects so bended beThat high and broad it spread and flourished bold,Till underneath his glorious branches laidHalf Germany, and all under his shade.

This regal plant from his Italian routSprung up as high, and blossomed fair above,Fornenst Lord Guelpho, Bertold issued out,With the sixth Azzo whom all virtues love;This was the pedigree of worthies stout,Who seemed in that bright shield to live and move.Rinaldo waked up and cheered his face,To see these worthies of his house and race.

To do like acts his courage wished and sought,And with that wish transported him so farThat all those deeds which filled aye his thought,Towns won, forts taken, armies killed in war,As if they were things done indeed and wrought,Before his eyes he thinks they present are,He hastily arms him, and with hope and haste,Sure conquest met, prevented and embraced.

But Charles, who had told the death and fallOf the young prince of Danes, his late dear lord,Gave him the fatal weapon, and withal,“Young knight,” quoth he, “take with good luck this sword,Your just, strong, valiant hand in battle shallEmploy it long, for Christ’s true faith and word,And of his former lord revenge the wrongs,Who loved you so, that deed to you belongs.”

He answered, “God for his mercy’s sake,Grant that this hand which holds this weapon goodFor thy dear master may sharp vengeance take,May cleave the Pagan’s heart, and shed his blood.”To this but short reply did Charles make,And thanked him much, nor more on terms they stood:For lo, the wizard sage that was their guideOn their dark journey hastes them forth to ride.

“High time it is,” quoth he, “for you to wendWhere Godfrey you awaits, and many a knight,There may we well arrive ere night doth end,And through this darkness can I guide you right.”This said, up to his coach they all ascend,On his swift wheels forth rolled the chariot light,He gave his coursers fleet the rod and rein,And galloped forth and eastward drove amain;

While silent so through night’s dark shade they fly,The hermit thus bespake the young man stout:“Of thy great house, thy race, thine offspring high,Here hast thou seen the branch, the bole, the root,And as these worthies born to chivalryAnd deeds of arms it hath tofore brought out,So is it, so it shall be fertile still,Nor time shall end, nor age that seed shall kill.

“Would God, as drawn from the forgetful lapOf antique time, I have thine elders shown;That so I could the catalogue unwrapOf thy great nephews yet unborn, unknown,That ere this light they view, their fate and hapI might foretell, and how their chance is thrown,That like thine elders so thou mightst beholdThy children, many, famous, stout and bold.

“But not by art or skill, of things futureCan the plain truth revealed be and told,Although some knowledge doubtful, dark, obscureWe have of coming haps in clouds uprolled;Nor all which in this cause I know for sureDare I foretell: for of that father old,The hermit Peter, learned I much, and heWithouten veil heaven’s secrets great doth see.

“But this, to him revealed by grace divine,By him to me declared, to thee I say,Was never race Greek, barbarous, or Latine,Great in times past, or famous at this day,Richer in hardy knights than this of thine;Such blessings Heaven shall on thy children layThat they in fame shall pass, in praise o’ercome,The worthies old of Sparta, Carthage, Rome.

“But mongst the rest I chose Alphonsus bold,In virtue first, second in place and name,He shall be born when this frail world grows old,Corrupted, poor, and bare of men of fame,Better than he none shall, none can, or could,The sword or sceptre use or guide the same,To rule in peace or to command in fight,Thine offspring’s glory and thy house’s light.

“His younger age foretokens true shall yieldOf future valor, puissance, force and might,From him no rock the savage beast shall shield;At tilt or tourney match him shall no knight:After, he conquer shall in pitched fieldGreat armies and win spoils in single fight,And on his locks, rewards for knightly praise,Shall garlands wear of grass, of oak, of bays.

“His graver age, as well that eild it fits,Shall happy peace preserve and quiet blest,And from his neighbors strong mongst whom he sitsShall keep his cities safe in wealth and rest,Shall nourish arts and cherish pregnant wits,Make triumphs great, and feast his subjects best,Reward the good, the evil with pains torment,Shall dangers all foresee, and seen, prevent.

“But if it hap against those wicked bandsThat sea and earth invest with blood and war,And in these wretched times to noble landsGive laws of peace false and unjust that are,That he be sent, to drive their guilty handsFrom Christ’s pure altars and high temples far,Oh, what revenge, what vengeance shall he bringOn that false sect, and their accursed king!

“Too late the Moors, too late the Turkish king,Gainst him should arm their troops and legions boldFor he beyond great Euphrates should bring,Beyond the frozen tops of Taurus cold,Beyond the land where is perpetual spring,The cross, the eagle white, the lily of gold,And by baptizing of the Ethiops brownOf aged Nile reveal the springs unknown.”

Thus said the hermit, and his prophecyThe prince accepted with content and pleasure,The secret thought of his posterityOf his concealed joys heaped up the measure.Meanwhile the morning bright was mounted high,And changed Heaven’s silver wealth to golden treasure,And high above the Christian tents they viewHow the broad ensigns trembled, waved and blew,

When thus again their leader sage begun,“See how bright Phoebus clears the darksome skies,See how with gentle beams the friendly sunThe tents, the towns, the hills and dales descries,Through my well guiding is your voyage done,From danger safe in travel off which lies,Hence without fear of harm or doubt of foeMarch to the camp, I may no nearer go.”

Thus took he leave, and made a quick return,And forward went the champions three on foot,And marching right against the rising mornA ready passage to the camp found out,Meanwhile had speedy fame the tidings borneThat to the tents approached these barons stout,And starting from his throne and kingly seatTo entertain them, rose Godfredo great.