Godfrey of Bulloigne, or The recouerie of Ierusalem. Done into English heroicall verse, by Edward Fairefax Gent

The second Booke of Godfrey of Bulloigne.

The argument.

Ismeno conlures, but his charmes are vaine: Aladine will kill the Christians in his ire: Sophronia and Olindo would be slaine To saue the rest, the king grants their desire; Clorinda heares their fact and fortunes plaine Their pardon gets and keepes them from the fire: Argantes, when Aletes speeches ar Despis'd, defies the Duke to mortall war.

1

WHile thus the Tyrant bends his thoughts to armes, Ismeno gan tofore his sight appeere, Ismen dead bones laid in cold graues that warmes And makes them speake, smell, taste, touch, see and heere; Ismen (with terrour of his mightie charmes) That makes great Dis in deepest hell to feare, That bindes and looseth soules condemn'd to woe, And sends the diuels on errands to and froe.

2

A Christian once, Macon he now adores, Nor could he quite his wonted faith forsake, But in his wicked arts both oft implores Helpe from the Lord, and aide from Pluto blake; He, from deepe caues by Acherons darke shores, (Where circles vaine and spels he vs'd to make) T'aduise his king in these extremes is come, Achitophell so counsell'd Absalome,

3

My liege (he saies) the campe fast hither mooues, The axe is laid vnto this Cedars rout, But let vs worke as valiant men behooues, For boldest harts good fortune helpeth out: Your princely care your kingly wisdome prooues, Well haue you labour'd, well foreseene about, If each performe his charge and dutie so, Nought but his graue here conquer shall your foe:

4

From surest castell of my secret cell I come, partaker of your good and ill, What counsell sage or magikes sacred spell May profit vs, all that performe I will: The sprites impure from blisse that whilome fell Shall to your seruice bow, constrain'd by skill; But how we must begin this enterprise, I will your highnes thus in breefe aduise.

5

Within the Christians Church, from light of skies, An hidden Altar stands, far out of sight, On which the image consecrated lies Of Christes deere mother, call'd a virgin bright, An hundreth lampes aie burne before her eies, She in a slender vaile of tinsell dight, On euery side great plentie doth behold Of offrings brought, myrrhe, frankincense and gold.

6

This idoll would I haue remoou'd away From thence, and by your princely hand transport In Macons sacred temple safe it lay, Which then I will enchant in wondrous sort, That while the image in that church doth stay, No strength of armes shall win this noble sort, Or shake this puissant wall, such passing might Haue spels and charmes, if they be said aright.

7

Aduised thus, the king impatient Flew in his furie to the house of God, The image tooke, with words vnreuerent Abus'd the prelates, who that deed forbod, Swift with his pray away the tyrant went, Of Gods sharpe iustice nought he fear'd the rod, But in his chappell vile the image laid, On which th'enchanter charmes and witchcrafts said.

8

When Phebus next vnclos'd his wakefull eie, Vprose the Sexten of that place prophaine, And mist the image where it vs'd to lie, Each where he sought in greefe, in feare, in vaine; Then to the king his losse he gan descrie, Who sore enraged kild him for his paine, And straight conceiu'd in his malitious wit, Some Christian bad this great offence commit.

9

But whether this were act of mortall hand, Or else the Prince of heau'ns eternall pleasure, That of his mercie would this wretch withstand, Nor let so vile a chest, hold such a treasure, As yet coniecture hath not fully scand; By godlines let vs this action measure, And truth of purest faith will fitly proue, That this rare grace came downe from heau'n aboue.

10

With busie search the tyrant gan inuade Each house, each hold, each temple and each tent, To them the fault or faultie one bewrai'd Or hid, he promist gifts or punishment, His idle charmes the false enchanter said, But in this maze still wandred and miswent, For heauen decreed to conceale the same, To make the miscreant more to feele his shame.

11

But when the angrie king discouer'd not What guiltie hand this sacrilege had wrought, His irefull courage boild in vengeance hot Against the Christians, whom he faulters thought, All ruth, compassion, mercie he forgot, A staffe to beate that dog he long had sought, Let them all die, quoth he, kill great and small, So shall th'offender perish sure withall.

12

To spill the wine with poison mixt who spares? Slay then the righteous, with the faultie one, Destroy this field, that yeeldeth nought but tares, With thornes this vineyard all is ouergone, Among these wretches is not one, that cares For vs, our lawes, or our religion, Vp, vp, deere subiects, fire and weapon take, Burne, murder, kill, these traitors, for my sake.

13

This Herod thus would Bethlems infants kill, The Christians soone these direfull newes recaue, The trumpe of death sounds in their hearing shrill, Their weapon, faith; their fortresse, was the graue; They had no courage, time, deuise, or will, To fight, to flie, excuse, or pardon craue, But stood prepar'd to die, yet helpe they finde Whence least they hope, such knots can heau'n vnbind,

14

Among them dwelt (her parents ioy and pleasure) A maide, whose fruit was ripe, not oueryeared, Her beautie was her not esteemed, treasure; The field of loue, with plow of vertue eared, Her labour goodnes; godlines her leasure, Her house the heau'n by this full moone aye cleared, For there, from louers eies withdrawne, alone With virgin beames this spotlesse Cinthia shone.

15

But what avail'd her resolution chaste, Whose sobrest lookes were whetstones to desire? Nor loue consents that beauties field lie waste, Her visage set Olindoes hart on fire, O subtile loue, a thousand wiles thou hast By humble suit, by seruice, or by hire, To win a maidens hold, a thing soone donne, For nature fram'd all women to be wonne.

16

Sophronia she, Olindo hight the yuth, Both of one towne, both in one faith were taught, She faire, he full of bashfulnes and truth, Lou'd much, hop'd little, and desired nought, He durst not speake, by suit to purchase ruth, She saw not, markt not, wist not what he sought, Thus lou'd, thus seru'd he long, but not regarded, Vnseene, vnmarkt, vnpitied, vnrewarded.

17

To her came message of the murderment, Wherein her guiltlesse friends, should hopelesse sterue, She that was noble wise, as faire and gent, Cast how she might their harmlesse liues preserue, Zeale was the spring whence flow'd her hardiment, From maidens shame yet was she loth to swerue: Yet had her courage tane so sure a hold, That boldnes, shamefast; shame had made her bold.

18

And foorth she went, a shop for merchandise Full of rich stuffe, but none for sale exposed, A vaile obscur'd the sunshine of her eies, The rose within her selfe her sweetnes closed, Each ornament about her seemely lies, By curious chance, or carelesse art, composed; For what the most neglects, most curious proue, So beautie's helpt by nature, heau'n and loue.

19

Admir'd of all on went this noble maid Vntill the presence of the king she gained, Nor for he sweld with ire was she affraid, But his fierce wrath with fearlesse grace sustained, I come, quoth she, (but be thine anger staid, And causelesse rage gainst faultlesse soules restrained) I come to shew thee and to bring thee both The wight, whose fact hath made thy hart so wroth.

20

Her modest boldnes, and that light'ning ray Which her sweete beautie streamed on his face, Had strooke the Prince with wonder and dismay, Changed his cheere and cleer'd his moodie grace, That had her eies dispos'd their lookes to play, The king had snared been in loues strong lace, But wayward beautie doth not fancie moue, A frowne forbids, a smile engendreth loue.

21

It was amazement, wonder and delight, (Although not loue) that mou'd his cruell sence, Tell on, quoth he, vnfold the chance aright, Thy peoples liues I grant for recompence. Then she, behold the faulter here in sight, This hand committed that suppos'd offence, I tooke the image, mine that fault, that fact, Mine be the glorie of that vertuous act.

22

This spotlesse lambe thus offred vp her blood To saue the rest of Christs selected fold, O noble lie! was euer truth so good? Blest be the lips that such a leasing told, Thoughtfull awhile remain'd the tyrant wood, His natiue wrath he gan a space withhold And said, that thou discouer soone I will, What aide? what counsell hadst thou in that ill?

23

My loftie thoughts (she answer'd him) enuide Anothers hand should worke my high desire, The thirst of glorie can no partner bide, With mine owne selfe I did alone conspire. On thee alone (the tyrant then replide) Shall fall the vengeance of my wrath and ire. Tis iust and right (quoth she) I yeeld consent, Mine be the honour, mine the punishment.

24

The wretch of new enraged at the same, Askt where she hid the image so conuai'd: Not hid (quoth she) but quite consum'd with flame, The idoll is of that eternall maid, For so at least I haue preseru'd the same With hands profane from being eft betraid. My Lord, the thing thus stolne demaund no more; Here see the theefe, that scorneth death therefore.

25

And yet no theft was this, yours was the sin, I brought againe what you vniustly tooke; This heard, the tyrant did for rage begin To whet his teeth, and bend his frowning looke, No pitie, youth; fairenesse, no grace could win; Ioy, comfort, hope, the virgin all forsooke; Wrath kill'd remorse, vengeance stopt mercies breath, Loue's thrall to hate, and beautie slaue to death.

26

Tane was the damsell, and without remorse, The king condemn'd her (guiltlesse) to the fire, Her vaile and mantle pluckt they off by force, And bound her tender armes in twisted wire: Dumbe was this siluer doue, while from her corse These hungrie kites pluckt off her rich attire, And for some-deale perplexed was her sprite, Her damaske late, now chang'd to purest white.

27

The newes of this mishap spred far and neare, The people ran, both yong and old, to gace; Olindo also ran, and gan to feare His, Ladie was some partner in this cace; But when he found her bound, stript from her geare, And vile tormentors ready saw in place, He broke the throng, and into presence brast, And thus bespake the king in rage and haste.

28

Not so, not so this girle shall beare away From me the honour of so noble feat, She durst not, did not, could not so conuay The massie substance of that Idoll great, What sleight had she the wardens to betray? What strength to heaue the goddesse from her seat? No, no, my Lord, she sailes, but with my winde, (Ah thus he lou'd, yet was his loue vnkinde.)

29

He added further, where the shining glasse Lets in the light amid your temples side, By broken by-waies did I inward passe, And in that window made a postren wide, Nor shall therefore this ill-aduised lasse Vsurpe the glorie should this fact betide, Mine be these bonds, mine be these flames so pure, O glorious death, more glorious sepulture.

30

Sophronia rais'd her modest lookes from ground, And on her louer bent her eie-sight milde, Tell me, what furie? what conceit vnsound Presenteth here to death so sweet a childe? Is not in me sufficient courage found To beare the anger of this tyrant wilde? Or hath fond loue thy hart so ouergone? Would'st thou not liue, nor let me die alone?

31

Thus spake the Nimph, yet spake but to the winde, She could not alter his well setled thought: O miracle! O strife of wondrous kinde! Where loue and vertue such contention wrought, Where death the victor had for meed assignde, Their owne neglect, each others safetie sought; But thus the king was more prouoakt to ire, Their strife for bellowes seru'd to angers fire.

32

He thinkes (such thoughts selfe-guiltinesse findes out) They scorn'd his powre, and therefore scorn'd the paine: Nay, nay, quoth he, let be your strife and dout, You both shall win, and fit reward obtaine. With that the sargeants hent the yong man stout, And bound him likewise in a worthlesse chaine; Then backe to backe fast to a stake both ties, Two harmlesse turtles, dight for sacrifies.

33

About the pile of fagots, sticks and hay, The bellowes rais'd the newly kindled flame, When thus Olindo, in a dolefull lay, Begun too late his bootlesse plaints to frame: Be these the bonds? Is this the hopt-for day Should ioyne me to this long desired dame? Is this the fire alike should burne our harts? Ah hard reward for louers kinde desarts!

34

Far other flames and bonds kinde louers proue, But thus our fortune casts the haplesse die, Death hath exchang'd againe his shafts with loue, And Cupid thus lets borrow'd arrowes flie. O Hymen say, what furie doth thee moue To lend thy lampes to light a tragedie? Yet this contents me that I die for thee, Thy flames, not mine, my death and torment bee.

35

Yet happie were my death, mine ending blest, My torments easie, full of sweet delight, If this I could obtaine, that brest to brest Thy bosome might receiue my yeelded spright; And thine with it in heau'ns pure clothing drest, Through cleerest skies might take vnited flight. Thus he complain'd, whom gently she reproued, And sweetly spake him thus, that so her loued.

36

Far other plaints (deere friend) teares and laments The time, the place, and our estates require, Thinke on thy sinnes, which mans old foe presents Before that iudge that quites each soule his hire, For his name suffer, for no paine torments Him, whose iust prayers to his throne aspire: Behold the heau'ns, thither thine eie-sight bend, Thy lookes, sighes, teares, for intercessors send:

37

The Pagans lowd cride out to God and man, The Christians mourn'd in silent lamentation, The tyrants selfe (a thing vnus'd) began To feele his hart relent, with meere compassion, But not dispos'd to ruth or mercie than, He sped him thence, home to his habitation: Sophronia stood not greeu'd, nor discontented, By all that saw her (but her selfe) lamented.

38

The louers standing in this dolefull wise, A warriour bold vnwares approched neare, In vncouth armes yclad and strange disguise, From countries far but new arriued theare, A sauage tygresse on her helmet lies, The famous badge Clorinda vs'd to beare, That woonts in euerie warlike stowre to winne, By which bright signe well knowne was that faire Inne.

39

She scorn'd the artes these seelie women vse, Another thought her nobler humour fed, Her loftie hand would of it selfe refuse To touch the daintie needle, or nice thred, She hated chambers, closets, secret mewes, And in broad fields preseru'd her maidenhed: Proud were her lookes, yet sweet, though stern and stout, Her dame a doue, thus brought an eagle out.

40

While she was yong, she vs'd with tender hand The foming steed with froarie bit to steare, To tilt and tournay, wrestle in the sand, To leaue with speed Atlanta swift arreare, Through forrests wilde and vnfrequented land To chase the Lion, boare or rugged beare, The Satyres rough, the Fawnes and Fairies wilde, She chased oft, oft tooke, and oft beguilde.

41

This lustie Ladie came from Persia late, She with the Christians had encountred eft, And in their flesh had opened many a gate By which their faithfull soules their bodies left, Her eie at first presented her the state Of these poore soules, of hope and helpe bereft, Greedie to know (as is the minde of man:) Their cause of death, swift to the fire she ran.

42

The people made her roome, and on them twaine Her pearcing eies their fierie weapons dart, Silent she saw the one, the other plaine, The weaker bodie lodg'd the nobler hart: Yet him she saw lament, as if his paine Were griefe and sorrow for anothers smart, And her keepe silence so, as if her eies Dumbe orators were to intreat the skies.

43

Clorinda chang'd to ruth her warlike mood, Few siluer drops her vermile cheekes depaint, Her sorrow was for her that speechlesse stood, Her silence more preuail'd then his complaint, She askt an aged man, seem'd graue and good, Come say me sire (quoth she) what hard constraint Would murder here loues queene, and beauties king? What fault or fate doth to this death them bring?

44

Thus she enquir'd, and answer short he gaue, But such as all the chance at large disclosed, She wondred at the case, the virgin braue That both were guiltlesse of the fault supposed, Her noble thought cast how she might them saue, The meanes on suit or battell she reposed, Quicke to the fire she ran, and quencht it out, And thus bespake the sargeants and the rout:

45

Be there not one among you all that dare In this your hatefull office ought proceed, Till I returne from court, nor take you care To reape displeasure for not making speed: To doe her will the men themselues prepare, In their faint harts her lookes such terror breed, To court she went, their pardon would she get, But on the way the courteous king she met.

46

Sir king, quoth she, my name Clorinda hight, My fame perchance hath pearst your eares ere now, I come to trie my woonted power and might, And will defend this land, this towne, and yow, All hard assaies esteeme I eath and light, Great actes I reach to, to small things I bow, To fight in field, or to defend this wall, Point what you list, I nought refuse at all.

47

To whom the king, what land so far remot From Asias coastes, or Phebus glistring raies, (O glorious virgin) that recordeth not Thy fame, thine honour, worth, renowne and praise? Since on my side I haue thy succours got, I need not feare in these mine aged daies, For in thine aide more hope, more trust I haue, Than in whole armies of these soldiers braue.

48

Now Godfrey staies too long, he feares I weene, Thy courage great keepes all our foes in awe, For thee all actions far vnwoorthie beene But such as greatest danger with them drawe, Be you commaundresse therefore, Princesse, queene Of all our forces, be thy word a lawe. This said, the virgin gan her beauoir vale, And thankt him first, and thus began her tale.

49

A thing vnus'd (great monarch) may it seeme, To aske reward for seruice, yet to come; But so your vertuous bountie I esteeme, That I presume for to entreat, this grome And seelie maid from danger to redeeme, Condemn'd to burne by your vnpartiall dome, I not excuse, but pitie much their yuth, And come to you for mercie and for ruth.

50

Yet giue me leaue to tell your highnes this, You blame the Christians, them my thoughts acquite, Nor be displeas'd, I say you iudge amis, At euerie shot looke not to hit the white, All what th'enchantour did perswade you, is Against the lore of Macons sacred rite, For vs commaundeth mightie Mahomet No idols in his temples pure to set.

51

To him therefore this wonder done refar, Giue him the praise and honour of the thing, Of vs the Gods benigne so carefull ar Least customes strange into their church we bring, Let Ismen with his squares and trigons war, His weapons be the staffe, the glasse, the ring; But let vs menage war with blowes, like knights, Our praise in armes, our honour lies in fights.

52

The virgin held her peace when this was said: And though to pitie neuer fram'd his thought, Yet for the king admir'd the noble maid, His purpose was not to denie her ought, I grant them life (quoth he) your promist aid Against these Frenchmen, hath their pardon bought: Nor further seeke what their offences bee, Guiltlesse I quite; guiltie, I set them free.

53

Thus were they loos'd, happiest of humane kinde Olindo, blessed be this act of thine, True witnes of thy great and heau'nly minde, Where sunne, moone, stars, of loue, faith, vertue, shine. So foorth they went and left pale death behinde, To ioy the blisse of marriage rites diuine, With her he would haue dide, with him content Was she to liue, that would with her haue brent.

54

The king (as wicked thoughts are most suspitious) Suppos'd too fast this tree of vertue grew, O blessed Lord! why should this Pharoe vicious, Thus tyrannize vpon thy Hebrewes trew? Who to performe his will, vile and malitious, Exiled these, and all the faithfull crew, All that were strong of body, stout of minde, But kept their wiues and children pledge behinde.

55

A hard diuision, when the harmlesse sheepe Must leaue their lambes to hungrie wolues in charge, But labour's vertues watching, ease her sleepe, Trouble best winde that driues saluations barge, The Christians fled, whither they tooke no keepe, Some straied wilde among the forrests large, Some to Emmaus to the Christian host, And conquer would againe their houses lost.

56

Emmaus is a citie small, that lies From Sions wals distant a little way, A man that early on the morne doth rise, May thither walke ere third howre of the day. Oh, when the Christian Lords this towne espies How merie were their harts? how fresh? how gay? But for the sunne enclined fast to west, That night there would their chieftaine take his rest.

57

Their canuas castles vp they quickly reare, And build a citie in an howres space, When loe (disguised in vnusuall geare) Two Barons bold approchen gan the place, Their semblance kinde, and milde their gestures weare, Peace in their hands and friendship in their face, From Egypts king ambassadours they come, Them many a squire attends, and many a grome.

58

The first Aletes, borne in lowly shed Of parents base, a rose, sprong from a brier, That now his branches ouer Egypt spred, No plant in Pharoes garden prospred hier, With pleasing tales his Lords vaine eares he fed, A flatterer, a pickthanke, and a lier, Curst be estate got with so many a crime, Yet this is oft the staire by which men clime.

59

Argantes called is that other knight, A stranger came he late to Egypt land, And there aduanced was to honours hight, For he was stout of courage, strong of hand, Bold was his hart, and restlesse was his spright, Fierce, sterne, outragious, keene as sharp'ned brand, Scorner of God, scant to himselfe a frend, And prickt his reason on his weapons end,

60

These two entreatance made they might be hard, Nor was their iust petition long denide; The gallants quickly made their court of gard, And brought them in where sate their famous guide, Whose kingly looke his princely minde declar'd, Where noblesse, vertue, troth and valour bide, A slender courtsie made Argantes bold, So as one prince salute another wold.

61

Aletes laid his right hand on his hart, Bent downe his head, and cast his eies full low, And reu'rence made with courtly grace and art, For all that humble lore to him was know, His sober lips then did he softly part, Whence of pure rhetorike, whole streames out flow, And thus he said, (while on the Christian Lords Downe fell the mildew of his sugred words.)

62

O only worthy, whom the earth all feares, High God defend thee, with his heau'nly sheeld, And humble so the harts of all thy peares, That their stiffe necks to thy sweete yoke may yeeld: These be the sheaues that honours haruest beares, The seed thy valiant actes, the world the feeld, Egypt the headland is, where heaped lies Thy fame, worth, iustice, wisedome, victories.

63

These all together, doth our soueraigne hide In secret storehouse of his princely thought, And praies he may in long accordance bide With that great Worthie, which such wonders wrought, Nor that oppose against the comming tide Of profred loue, for that he is not tought Your Christian faith, for though of diuers kinde, The louing vine about her elme is twin'd.

64

Receiue therefore in that vnconquered hand The pretious handle of this cup of loue, If not religion, vertue be the band Twixt you to fasten friendship, not to moue: But for our mightie king doth vnderstand, You meane your powre gainst Iuda land to proue, He would, before this threat'ned tempest fell, I should his minde and princely will first tell.

65

His minde is this, he praies thee be contented To ioy in peace, the conquests thou hast got, Be not thy death, or Sions fall lamented, Forbeare this land, Iudea trouble not, Things done in haste at leasure be repented: Withdraw thine armes, trust not vncertaine lot, For oft we see what least we thinke betide, He is thy friend gainst all the world beside.

66

True labour in the vineyard of thy Lord, Ere prime thou hast th'imposed day-worke donne, What armies conquered, perisht with thy sword? What cities sackt? what kingdomes hast thou wonne? All eares are maz'de, while toongs thine acts record, Hands quake for feare, all feete for dread doe ronne, And though no realmes you may to thraldome bring, No higher can your praise, your glorie spring.

67

Thy sinne is in his Apogaeon placed, And when it moueth next, must needes descend, Chance is vncertaine, fortune double faced, Smiling at first, she frowneth in the end, Beware thine honour be not then disgraced, Take heed thou marre not, when thou think'st to mend, For this the follie is of fortunes play, Gainst doubtfull, certaine; much, gainst small, to lay.

68

Yet still we saile while prosp'rous blowes the winde, Till on some secret rocke vnwares we light, The sea of glorie hath no bankes assignde, They who are wont to win in euerie fight, Still feed the fire, that so enflames thy minde To bring mo nations subiect to thy might; This makes thee blessed peace so light to hold, Like sommers flies that feare not winters cold.

69

They bid thee follow on the path, now made So plaine and easie, enter fortunes gate, Nor in thy scabberd sheath that famous blade Till setled be thy kingdome, and estate, Till Macons sacred doctrine fall and fade, Till wofull Asia, all lie desolate. Sweet words I grant, baits and allurements sweet, But greatest hopes oft greatest crosses meet.

70

For, if thy courage doe not blinde thine eies, If cloudes of furie hide not reasons beames, Then maist thou see this desp'rate enterpries, The field of death, watred with dangers streames, High state the bed is where misfortune lies, Mars most vnfriendly, when most kind he seames, Who climeth hie, on earth he hardest lights, And lowest falles, attend the highest flights.

71

Tell me, if great in counsell, armes and gold, The Prince of Egypt, war gainst you prepare? What if the valiant Turkes and Persians bold, Vnite their forces with Cassan••es haire? O then, what marble pillar shall vphold The falling trophies of your conquests faire? Trust you the monarch of the Greekish land? That reed will breake; and breaking, wound your hand.

72

The Greekish faith is like that halfe cut tree, By which men take wilde Elephants in Inde, A thousand times it hath beguiled thee, As firme as waues in seas, or leaues in winde. Will they, who earst denide you passage free, (Passage to all men free, by vse and kinde) Fight for your sake? or on them doe you trust To spend their blood, that could fearce spare their dust?

73

But all your hope and trust perchance is laid In these strong troopes, which thee enuiron round; Yet foes vnite are not so soone dismaid, As when their strength you earst diuided found: Besides, each howre thy bands are weaker maid With hunger, slaughter, lodging on cold ground, Meane-while the Turkes seeke succours from our king, Thus fade thy helps, and thus thy cumbers spring,

74

Suppose no weapon can thy valours pride Subdue, that by no force thou maist be wonne, Admit no steele can hurt or wound thy side, And be it heau'n hath thee such fauout donne; Gainst famine yet what shield canst thou prouide? What strength resist? what sleight her wrath can shonne? Goe shake thy speare, and draw thy flaming blade, And trie if hunger so be weaker made.

75

Th'inhabitants each pasture and each plaine Destroied haue, each field to waste is lade, In fensed towres bestowed is their graine, Before thou cam'st this kingdome to inuade, These horse and foote, how canst thou then sustaine? Whence comes thy store? whence thy prouision made? Thy ships to bring it are (perchance) assignde, O that you liue so long as please the winde!

76

Perhaps thy fortune doth controull the winde, Doth loose or binde their blastes in secret caue, The sea (pardie) cruell and deafe by kinde, Will heare thy call, and still her raging waue: But if our armed gallies be assignde To aide those ships, which Turks and Persians haue, Say then, what hope is left thy slender fleet? Dare flockes of crowes, a flight of Eagles meet?

77

My Lord, a double conquest must you make, If you atchieue renowne by this empries: For if our fleet your nauie chase or take, For want of victails all your campe then dies; Or if by land the field you once forsake, Then vaine by sea were hope of victories. Nor could your ships restore your lost estate: For steed once stolne, we shut the doore too late.

78

In this estate, if thou esteemest light The profred kindnesse of th'Egyptian king, Then giue me leaue to say, this ouersight Beseemes thee not, in whom such vertues spring: But heau'ns vouchsafe to guide thy minde aright To gentle thoughts, that peace and quiet bring, So that poore Asia her complaints may ceace, And you enioy your conquest got, in peace.

79

Nor ye that part in these aduentures haue, Part in his glorie, partners in his harmes, Let not blinde fortune so your mindes desaue, To stir him more to trie these fierce alarmes, But like the failer (scaped from the waue) From further perill, that his person armes, By staying safe at home, so stay you all, Better fit still (men say) than rise to fall.

80

This said Aletes: and a murmur rose That shew'd dislike among the Christian Peares, Their angrie gestures with mislike disclose, How much his speech offends their noble eares. Lord Godfreyes eie three times enuiron goes, To view what count'nance euerie warriour beares, And lastly on th'Egyptian Baron staid, To whom the Duke thus (for his answer) said.

81

Ambassador, full both of threates and praise, Thy doubtfull message hast thou wisely told, And if thy soueraigne loue vs (as he saies) Tell him he sowes, to reape an hundreth fold, But where thy talke the comming storme displaies Of threat'ned warfare, from the Pagans bold: To that I answer (as my custome is) In plainest phrase, least mine intent thou mis.

82

Know, that till now we suffred haue much paine, By lands and seas, where stormes and tempests fall, To make the passage easie, safe and plaine That leades vs to this venerable wall, That so we might reward from heau'n obtaine, And free this towne, from being longer thrall; Nor is it greeuous to so good an end Our honours, kingdoms, liues and goods to spend.

83

Not hope of praise, nor thirst of worldly good, Entised vs to follow this emprise, The heau'nly father keepe his sacred brood From foule infection of so great a vice: But by our zeale aye be that plague withstood, Let not those pleasures vs to sinne entise. His grace, his mercie, and his powerfull hand Will keepe vs safe from hurt, by sea and land.

84

This is the spurre, that makes our coursers run; This is our harbour, safe from dangers floods: This is our beild, the blustring windes to shun: This is our guide, through desarts, forrests, woods, This is our sommers shade, our winters sun: This is our wealth, our treasure, and our goods: This is our engin, towres that ouerthroes, Our speare that hurts, our sword that wounds our foes.

85

Our courage hence, our hope, our valour springs, Not from the trust we haue in shield or speare, Not from the succours France or Grecia brings, On such weake postes we list no buildings reare: He can defend vs from the powre of kings, From chance of war, that makes weake harts to feare, He can these hungrie troopes, with Manna feed, And make the seas, land; if we passage need.

86

But if our sinnes vs of his helpe depriue, Or his high iustice let no mercie fall; Yet should our deaths vs some contentment giue, To die, where Christ receiu'd his buriall, So might we die, not enuying them that liue; So would we die, not vnreuenged all: Nor Turkes, nor Christians (if we perish such) Haue cause to ioy, or to complaine too much.

87

Thinke not that wars we loue, and strife affect, Or that we hate sweet peace, or rest denay, Thinke not your soueraignes friendship we reiect, Bicause we list not in our conquests stay: But for it seemes he would the Iewes protect, Pray him from vs that thought aside to lay, Nor vs forbid this towne and realme to gaine, And he in peace, rest, ioy, long mote he raine.

88

This answer giuen, Argantes wilde drew nar, Trembling for ire, and waxing pale for rage, Nor could he hold, his wrath encreast so far, But thus (enflam'd) bespake the captaine sage: Who scorneth peace, shall haue his fill of war, I thought thy wisdome should thy furie swage, But well you shew what ioy you take in fight, Which makes you prise our loue and friendship light.

89

This said, he tooke his mantles formost part, And gan the same together fold and wrap; Then spake againe with fell and spitefull hart, (So lions rore enclos'd in traine or trap) Thou proud despiser of inconstant Mart, I bring thee war and peace clos'd in this lap, Take quickly one, thou hast no time to muse; If peace, we rest; we fight, if war thou chuse.

90

His semblant fierce and speeches proud, prouoke The soldiers all, war, at once to crie, Nor could they tarie till their chieftaine spoke, But for the knight was more enflam'd hereby, His lap he opened and spred foorth his cloke: To mortall wars (he saies) I you defie; And this he vttred with fell rage and hate, And seemed of Ianus church t'vndoe the gate.

91

It seemed furie, discord, madnes fell Flew from his lap, when he vnfolds the same, His glaring eies with angers venome swell, And like the brand of foule Alecto flame, He lookt like huge Tiphoius loos'd from hell Againe to shake heau'ns euerlasting frame, Or him that built the towre on Shinaar, Which threat'neth battell gainst the morning star.

92

Godfredo than; depart, and bid your king Haste hitherward, or else within short while, (For gladly we accept the war you bring) Let him expect vs on the banks of Nile. He entertain'd them then with banketting, And gifts presented to those Pagans vile; Aletes had a helmet, rich and gay, Late found at Nice, among the conqu'red pray;

93

Argant a sword, whereof the web was steele, Pommell, rich stone; hilts, gold, approu'd by tuch, With rarest workmanship all forged weele, The curious art exceld the substance much: Thus faire, rich, sharpe; to see, to haue, to feele, Glad was the Painim to enioy it such, And said, how I this gift can vse and weild, Soone shall you see, when first we meet in feild.

94

Thus tooke they congee, and the angrie knight Thus to his fellow parled on their way, Goe thou by day, but let me walke by night, Goe thou to Egypt, I at Sion stay, The answer giuen thou canst vnfold aright, No need of me what I can doe or say, Among these armes I will goe wreake my spight, Let Paris court it, Hector lou'd to fight.

95

Thus he, who late arriu'd a messengar, Departs a foe, in act, in word, in thought, The law of nations, or the lore of war, If he transgresse, or no, he reaketh nought. Thus parted they, and ere he wandred far The friendly star-light to the walles him brought: Yet his fell hart thought long that little way, Greeu'd with each stop, tormented with each stay.

96

Now spred the night her spangled canopie, And sommon'd euery restlesse eie to sleepe: On beds of tender grasse the beastes downe lie, The fishes slumbred in the silent deepe, Vnheard was serpents hisse, and dragons crie, Birds left to sing, and Philomene to weepe, Onely that noice heau'ns rolling circles kest, Sung lullabie, to bring the world to rest.

97

Yet neither sleepe, nor ease, nor shadowes darke, Could make the faithfull campe or captaine rest, They long'd to see the day, to heare the larke Record her hymnes and chant her carols blest, They earnd to view the wals, the wished marke To which their iourneies long they had addrest, Each hart attends, each longing eie beholds What beame the eastren window first vnfolds.