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THE THIRD SONG
1. Dawnyng th’embassadresse was ris’ne from bed,
Tydings to beare, how now grey morne annies, (grows nigh
The whiles she trimmes her selfe, and golden hed
Beflowres with roses culd in Paradize,
When from the campe to arms which buskelled, (bustled
Doth voice of murmur shrill and loftie rise,
And trumpets blast prevents, trumpets now found
Then earst, more cherefull and more cleare of sound.
2. Th’ advised chieftaine with a gentle bit
Guideth, and seconds their so bent desire,
To turne the course more easie seemeth hit,
Of winding wave that rouls Caribdis nire,
Or Boreas when at sea he ships doth slit,
Or courses Mount Penine backe to make retire.
He rancks them, leades them, and alone them swayes
Swiftly, but swiftnes such as order stayes.
3. Winges to ech heart, winges to ech heele are tide,
Nor his so speedie march the souldier knowes,
But when the sunne with glowing beames had fride
The chapped fieldes, and now to height arose:
Behold Hierusalem t’appeare is spide,
Behold Hierusalem ech finger showes,
Behold in one a thousand voices meete,
And all Hierusalem are heard to greete.
4. So hardly ging of marriners forth blowne,
In venture to deskry some straungy shore,
Who in wild sease, and under pole unkowne,
Prove waves deceitfull, and windes faithles more:
If eye at last the coast desirde can owne,
With glad showt gre’th it, their approch tofore,
And t’one to t’other showes it, and forgets
Old noyse the while, and all orepassed letes.
5. To pleasure great which sight thus first affixt,
Did breath most sweetly into ev’ry brest,
Succeedes a deepe contrition, that doth mixt
With fearefull, reverend affection rest.
Scarce dare they looke up now and then betwixt,
To towne which Christ as His choice bowre possest,
Where He deceast, where he was buryed,
Where He with limmes Himselfe new parrelled.
6. Lowe accents, silent words, broken sobbings,
And fearefull sighings of this warlike rout,
Mingling at once both joyes and sorrowings,
A murmur make whirle in the aire about,
As in thicke forrests heard are soft whistlings,
When through the bowes the wind breathes calmely out,
Or as amongst the rockes, or neere the shore,
The driven wave doth hisse and hoarsely rore.
7. Bare footed ech him to the way addrest,
For Dukes example mooves the residew:
Trimming of silke or gold, proud plume, or crest,
Not one there is, who not from head withdrew.
All do their hearts of stately thoughts devest,
And cheekes with skalding teares devout embrew.
Yet as to plaint foreclosed were the way,
Ech gainst himselfe doth this accusall lay:
8. “Then where Thou with a thousand streames, o Lord,
Bloody didst leave the earth besprinckelled,
Of bitter plaints so grievous record,
Least wise two quicke-springs now can I not shed.
O frozen hart! These eyes that hast not gord,
And into drops of teares thy selfe melted!
Hard heart of mine, why splintst? Why breakst not thou?
Wayle must thou aye, if thou waile nothing now.”
9. This while one in the citie who descries
Both hils and plaines, an high towre guarding there,
Markes from below a dust upward to rise,
So as it seemes great cloud to print in aire,
It seemes that cloud lightens and burnes in guise,
As flames and flashes it did childing beare,
Then he the shining of the mettall cleare
Discernes, and tryes both men and horse appeare.
10. And loud he cries, “O what a dust I vew,
Spread in the aire! Oh how it seemeth bright!
Arme, arme to your defense, you citie crew,
Each speede to armes, and to the walles you dight,
The en’my comes.” And then he cryes anew,
“Ech one make haste, ech furnisht be to fight.
The en’my (see) is come, the dust behold
Under yon horrid cloud the sky to fold.”
11. Then seely children, and unarmed old,
And womens rout of feare ypaled hew,
To strike or fend, who can no weapons hold,
Sad and suppliant to ech Meschite drew.
The rest more firme of lims and stomacke bold
Tofore on backe hastly their armour threw.
Some runne to gates, and some unto the wall.
King goes about, and sees and carkes for all.
12. He order gives, and then retires them fro,
Where twixt two gates a turret doth arise.
So neere he is at neede, and thence, more low,
The playnes and mountaines round about he skries.
With him he would there should Erminia go,
Erminia faire, whom in courteous wise
Receiv’d to Court, when Christian squadrons gaine
Did Antioch, and king her sire was slaine.
13. This while Clorinda gainst the Frankes is hide,
Store with her goes, and she before them all.
But at a posterne gate on t’other side
Argant for reskons stands at readie call. (rescue
The noble dame her followers affide (bound to her self
With words and with a looke that scornd to pall.
“By some brave onset us behooves (quoth she)
This day the hope of Asia founded be.”
14. While she her men bespake, not farre she spyes
A band of Frankes their rusticke prayes driving,
Who coast for bootie skourde (as is the guyse)
Were now to campe with flocks and heards turning.
She towards them, and towards her there hyes
Their captaine, who her say to him comming.
Gard is the captaine nam’d, a mightie man,
But might not such as her resist he can.
15. This fierce encounter Gardo overthrowes
In fight of Frankes and Painims on the plaine,
Who all one outcry made, so lucky showes
This token of the warre, yet proved vaine.
Then with the rest in spurring gins she close,
Her hand the price from thousand hands doth gaine.
Her men her follow, by the way she made
Plaine with her shockes, and open with her blade.
16. Soone from the prayer she doth pray retake,
The troope of Frankes now step by step retire,
Till on the top of hill a stand they make,
Where place to armes new forces gan acquire.
Then as a tempest doth resolving crake, (crack
And from the clouds downe falles the airy fire,
Good Tancred so at Godfreys bidding prest.
His squadron moves, and maine yard doth arrest.
17. So strong great launce he beares, and in such guyse
This youth comes on, both fierce and faire in sight.
That king who from aloft his port descryes,
Him deemes amongs the best a chosen knight,
And sayes to her, who in next seat him nyes,
And now her hart feeles in a panting plight.
“Through so long use you may to me declare
Ech Christen, though in armes they closed be.
18. “What then is he that doth so seemely frame
Himselfe so just, and so fierce semblance beare?”
Unto the ladie for an answere came
On lips a sigh, and in her eyes a teare.
But breath and weeping backe she doth reclame,
Though so as yet they make some muster theare,
For her swolne eyes, a purple circle faire,
Tainted and hoarse halfe sight brake forth to aire.
19. Then sithens she contrives, and seekes to hide
Another longinge under cloke of hate,
“Alas I know him well, cause doth betide
Why mongst a thousand I should know his state.
For oft the fields, and oft deepe dikes I skride
Him fill with bloud of vassals mine of late.
Ah how in striking fell he is! To wound
He gives in herbes or spels no helpe is found.
20. “The prince Tancred it is. Ah once that hee
My prisner were, but alive, not slaine
I would him have, that fierce desire in mee
Of sweete revenge might so some comfort gaine!”
This sayd she, and her words by hearers bee
Wrong turned from right sense, as she did meane.
And this last speech a mingled sigh out brought,
Which to suppresse, but all in vaine she sought.
21. Tancreds assault this while Clorinda plyes
T’encounter, and in rest her launce bestowes.
Ech t’others beaver hits, the splints to skyes
Up start, and she in part disarmed showes.
For buckles broke, foorthwith the helmet flyes
From off her head (a blow whence wonder growes),
And golden lockes unto the wind displayd.
She midst the field appeares a youthly mayd.
22. Her eyes do flash, her lookes do lighten bright:
Sweete ev’n in wrath, in laughter then what grace
They hold? Tancred, whereon thinkst thou? Thy sight
Where bendst thou? Knowst thou not this noble face?
This is that visage faire whence thou in light
Flames burnst, thy hart (her pictures shrine) the case
Can show, this fame is she whom quenching thirst
At solitarie spring thou sawest first.
23. He that of painted shield, and of her crest
Tooke earst no keepe, now seeing her doth grow
Astone, she bared head covers, as best
She may, and him assayles. He gets her fro,
And fell blade whirling makes against the rest.
Yet at her hand peace cannot purchase so,
But threatfull him persewes, and turne she cries,
And to deathes twaine at once she him defies.
24. Stroken this knight, no strokes againe replyes,
Nor so from sword himselfe to guard attends,
As to regard her cheekes and fairest eyes,
From whence his bow love uneschewed bends.
T’himselfe he sayes, “Ech blow unharmefull dyes,
Which force of her right hand (though armed) lends.
But never blow from her faire naked face
Falles vaine, but in my heart findes lighting place.”
25. Last he resolves, though pitty hope he none,
As lover hid, not silent to decease,
That she her prisner strikes, to make her knowne
He will, trembling, unarm’d, sewing for peace,
And sayes, “O thou, that for thy foe alone
Seem’st me to take among so great a preace, (press
Let us forsake this thrust, so may aside
My force with thine, thy force with mine be tride.
26. “So better shall be seene if my prowesse
Thine countervaile.” She th’offer not gain-said,
And as she were of wanted helme recklesse,
Forth bold she goes, on followes he dismaid.
Not to the combat had this warriouresse
Plighted her selfe, and on some blowes now laid,
When he says “Stay, and of the fight lets make
The cov’nants, ere we us to fight betake.”
27. The stops and him of fearefull earst, hardy (earnest?
Now makes a love converted to dispaire.
“The cov’nants are (quoth he) since so you fly,
All peace with me that out my hart you teare,
My heart, no longer mine, which glad will dy,
If of his farder life dislike you beare.
Long time it hath beene yours, now time is fit
The same you reave, forbid I may not it.
28. “Behold mine armes downe held you I present,
Fencelesse my brest, why stay you it to cleave?
Will you dispatch the worke? Now, now content
Of curers go, if corps that bare I leave,
You bid Tancred with threedes of more lament
His woe (poore wretch) perhaps preparde to weave.”
But presse untimely that still fast arriv’d,
Some his, some Painims farder time depriv’d.
29. The Palestines by Christens chaced, gan
Give ground, were it for guile, or were it feare,
When of the chacers an unmanly man
Wav’d by the wind, skrying her sparckled heare,
Lifts up his hand as at her backe he ran,
And where she naked show’d, stroke at her there.
But Tancred cryed out thereof aware
And with his sword that great blow off he bare.
30. Yet all in vaine not lights, but on the bound
Her hitt, twixt whitest necke and fairest hed,
And her beguiled lockes this slightest wound
With some few drops, such wise betainted red,
As gold growes ruddie, which (some rubyes ground
By skilfull workemen set) doth sparkles shed.
But furious grew this prince, and onward made
Against this villaine, and drew out his blade.
31. T’other avoides, and wrath enkindled hee
Persewes, they go through aire as arrow-fares.
Suspenst, she stayes a while and both do see,
Now parted farre, not them to follow cares,
But backe retires with those of hers that flee,
And now showes face, nor Frankes t’assaile she spares.
Now turnes she, now returns, now fight, now flight
She makes, nor chac’d, nor chacer term’d aright.
32. Right so fierce bull sometimes in market place,
If hornes to dogges he turne, from whence he fled
They there retire, and if to flight he pace,
Ech makes returne to chace emboldened.
At backe Clorinde (while she flight doth trace)
High holds her shield, and guards thereby her hed.
Defensed in Monseo pastimes so
From balls against them throwne, the flyers go.
33. While these persew, and those persewed fly
To the high walles, they now approching drew,
When on the sodaine with a ghastly cry
Upraysde, backe on them comes the Painim crew.
First wheeling farre aloofe, then turning ny,
At backe and sides return’d they fight renew.
Meanspace Argante downe the mountaine led
His band t’assault them also on the hed.
34. The fierce Circasian from the troup out went,
That his blow first the enimy might gall,
And whom he strooke he topsie-turvie hent
To ground, in plumpe both man and horse withall.
And ere his launce was into shivers rent,
Many claim’d fellowship in th’others fall.
Then drawes his sword, and where it home doth come,
Still killes or felles, or least-wise woundeth some.
35. Clorind his countermate of life bereaved
Ardelio strong, who farre in yeares did creepe,
But of old age, as yet unmastered,
And fenst by two bigge sonnes, who safe him keepe,
Could not, for from his fathers care sundred
Th’eldest Alcandro was, by wound full deepe,
And Poliferno, who neere him abid,
Could scarce and scarce himselfe from perill rid.
36. But Tancred, when he could not over-get
That villaine, who his horse had swifter pac’d,
Lookt backe and saw his hardy men had set
Too farre a course, while sole headlong they chac’d.
He saw them hemd, he spurres to courser set,
Turning the raynes, and thither speedes in haste.
Nor he alone brought succour to his band,
But eke that troupe which made for neede a stand.
37. That troup Adventurer which Dudon led,
Heroicke flowre, the campes sinewes and might.
Regnold shapt fairest, noblest couraged,
Fore-runnes them all, lightning takes slower flight.
Erminia soone his port, soone th’azured
Shield had deskryde with silver eagle dight,
And sayes to king that on him fixt his eye,
“Ther’s he that beares on bravest masterye.
38. “For trenchant blade he hath of equall prize,
Or few or none, yet but a child in age.
If but such sixe were mongst our enemies,
Ere now had Syria stoupt to serviceage.
Ere now had neighbour-realmes, where sun doth rise,
And realms that southmost lye, endur’d bondage,
And Nile perhaps in vaine from yoke should hide
His head far distant, nor as yet deskride.
39. “Regnold he’s called, and his wrathfull hand
More then all engines force the walles do feare.
Now turne your eyes where I am pointing, and
Mark him whose armes green with gold mixed beare.
That’s Dudon, and by him is led this band,
This band which hath to name th’ Adventurer:
A warriour who, well borne and well expert,
Exceedes in yeeres, nor wanteth in desert.
40. “That great one seene with blacke becovered so,
Gernand he hight, brother to Norway king,
A prouder man the whole earth cannot shoe.
This sole the price of his acts shadowing
Those two, who thus in one conjoyned goe,
And parell white, white have their furnishing.
Gildip and Edward loves and spouses are
In loyaltie and martiall prowesse rare.”
41. So spake she, and they saw downe on the plaine
How slaughter still encreaseth more and more.
For Tancred and Reynold brake through the traine,
That thicke of men and armes enringde tofore.
And then the band which Dudon led amaine
Comes in, and on them likewise chargeth sore.
Argant, Argant himselfe at shocke such wise
Reynold orethrew that scant he could arise.
42. Nor had he ris’ne perhaps, save that the horse
Of Bertolds sonne, that instant tooke a fall,
And having under-caught his foot, did force
For plucking it thereout some stay withall.
The Painim troupe this while seekes to endorce, (turn tail
Defeated, flying, chac’d the citie wall.
Sole Argant and Clorinda bancke and barre,
Gainst fury that at backe orefloweth, are.
43. Last rancke they guard, and brunt at heeles some space
Upon them makes a stay, and is represt,
So as those folke with lesse endaunger’d case
Might fly, who first to flight themselves addrest.
Dudon, fierie through victorie, gives chase
To flyers, and the fierce Tygran opprest.
With shocke of horses, and then with drawne blade,
His body headlesse kisse the ground he made.
44. Nor Algazzar good of tough corslet tooke,
Nor mightie Corban of his strong helmet,
For in the nape and backe them he so strooke
That wound to face and brest did passage get.
And by his hand eke their sweet lodge forsooke
The soules of Amurate and Mehemet,
And of fell Almansor, nor great Circasse,
One step by him can unannoyed passe.
45. Argant frets to himselfe, and eft he makes
A stand, and turnes, and then retires againe.
At last so suddaine turnd, to him he rakes,
And rought his side with a reverse so maine,
That deepe the blade it bathes therein, and takes
Life by that blow from Frankish captaine.
He falles, and eyes that scarce could open looke,
Any yron sleepe and hardest quiet tooke.
46. Thrice he them opens, and the heav’ns sweete rayes
Sought to enjoy, and on his arme arose,
And thrice he fell, and his eyne over-layes
A darkesome vayle. In th’end weari’d they close,
His limmes dissolve, dead, cold, a sweat displayes,
And sensibly a sencelesse stifnes growes.
Upon the corps (now dead) no longer stay
Fierce Argant brookes, but hies forth on his way.
47. Yet for all that though going keepe no stay,
He turn’d to Frankes and “Oh ye knights,” he cride.
“This bloudie sword is that with which the day
Last past your lord in guift me gratifide.
Tell him how now thereof I tooke assay,
For glad he would this newes be certifide,
And deere must take it that his present faire
Is knowne by proofe so great a worth to beare.
48. “Tell him henceforth account he looking make,
In his owne guts the same more sure to prove,
And if t’assaile no over speede he take,
I’le come unlookt, be he the ground above.”
The Christians, angred at so fell a crake, (boast
From all sides with all hands against him move,
But mongst the rest he was too safety ronne,
And for his guard had wall befriending wonne.
49. The guarders, busie, straight themselves addresse
To haile downe stones aloft from garrets so,
And with such fast supply the number lesse
Quivers with arrowes stuffed ev’ry bow,
That to retrait forst is of Frankes the presse,
And Saracins into the citie go.
But Reynold now from groveling horses side
His foot out having pluckt, was thither hide.
50. He came on the barbarian homicide,
A sharpe revenge for Dudons death to take,
And being come to his, aloud he cride,
“What looke you for? What lingring ist you make?
Since slaughtred lies the knight that was our guide,
Why running haste we not his death to wrake?
In so great cause of just displeasure can
A brittle wall thwart us a stoppage than?
51. “No not if double ire or adamant
This walling high not to be pierced were,
From higher prowesse yours, that fierce Argant
With begged safetie should him neastle there.
Goe we unto th’assault, and selfe instant.”
Before the rest (so said) first doth he steare,
For his undaunted courage ought affright,
Nor arrowes showre, nor storme all stony might.
52. He tossng his stout head lifts up his face,
Full of so terrible an hardiment,
That to the hearts of those who guard the palce
An ycy cold of feare unwonted went.
Whiles some he cheeres, and some he doth menace,
In commeth one, who slakes his eger bent.
For Godfrey to them sent the good Sigiere,
Of his grave charges messenger severe.
53. Who in his name their over-hardinesse
Uncries, and straight to turne doth straight impose.
“Returne,” he sayes, “for to your wrathfulnesse
Nor place serves fit, nor season tidie growes.
Godfrey commaunds it you this word expresse,
Regnold now raines, who earst was spurre to those.
Though inward much he frets, and out reveald
More signes then one of anger ill conceald.”
54. Backe turne the bandes, nor their returne at all
Was by the counterwaything foe distrest.
Nor Dudons corps of his last funerall
In any portion did defrauded rest.
Upon their kindest armes his friends loyall
Him beare, a burden deere and nobellest.
Bulleyn the while viewes from an higher part
Of that strong citie both the site and art.
55. Hierusalem upon two hils is set,
Of height uneven, and turnde front to front.
His middle part a lowly vale doth fret,
Which it devides and t’one from t’other mount.
Three sides are coasted with a combrous let, (obstruction
Fourth easie way ,nor to ascend they count,
But with high raysed walles it selfe defends
The playner part which gainst the North extends.
56. Within the citie sundry cesterns are,
Raine to receive, and brookes and living springs.
Without the earth about of grasse is bare,
Fountaines or lakes (barraine) none forth it brings.
Nor is it seene gladsome, or proud to fare
With trees, nor yeelds gainst suns rayes shadowings,
Save where some sixe miles off a wood upgrowes
With noysome bugbears, that dark ghastly showes.
57. That side where rising first appeares the day
The noble wave of happy Jordan flankes,
And on the westerne part of Midland Sea
It buts upon the sandy strowed bankes.
The north Betel (to golden calfe where they
An alter raysd) and eke Samaria rankes.
Bethlem is plast where South brings showry cloud,
Whose hap was earst in lap great birth to shrowd.
58. While Godfrey now both of the towne and land
The lofty rampires and the site surveyes,
And him bethinkes where best his campe may stand,
And where foes weakest wall t’assaile with ease,
Erminia skryes him, and with stretched hand
Him points to Painim king, and farder sayes,
“That Godfrey is, who, clad in purple pall,
Beares port so king-like and majesticall.
59. “He (certes) borne seemes a soveraigne,
So th’arts to rule and to command he knowes.
Nor is he meaner knight than captaine,
But all the points of double valure owes.
Nor man more warlike this so great a traine
Mongst all then him, nor more advised showes.
In counsell Raymond sole, and sole in warre
Reynold and Tancred his coegals are.”
60. The Painym king replies, “Him well I beare
In mind, as earst seene at great Court of France,
When I Egyptian messenger was there.
In noble justs I saw him ply his launce,
And though his yeeres, which then young springing were,
No tire of downe did on his cheekes advaunce,
Yet both his words and workes, and semblant brave,
Of greatest hopes ev’n then fortoken gave.”
61. Foretoken ah too true, with that troubled
Ey-lids downe clines he, then them reares anew,
And sayes, “Tell me, whats he coat-armoured,
Whom weare, and t’ others match to march we view?
Oh how by this he is resembelled!
Though seemes to want a part of stature dew.”
“Thats Baldwyn,” answer’d she. “To him showes he,
Brother by face, but more by facts to be.
62. “Next marke the man on t’other side in guize,
That stands of one who counsaile doth endite.
He Reymond hights, whom I to you for wise
Did so commend, a man all hoary white,
Skild to contrive more warlicke policies
Theres neither Frankish nor Italian sprite.
But he that with guilt-helme doth farder stand,
Good William is, kings sonne of Brittish land.
63. “With him is Gwelfe, and equall strives to goe
In brave deedes, in great bloud, in high calling.
Full well by those square shoulders him I knowe,
And by that breast whose cheasted up rysing.
But mongst these squadrons mine owne greatest foe
(Though wide I looke) to sight I cannot bring.
I meane that Boemund, that murderer,
Of my bloud royall cruel raviner.”
64. So talked they, the whiles the captaine,
When he the walles had viewd, to his descends,
And for he deemes the citie should in vaine
Assaulte receive where steepenesse most ascends,
Against the northerne gate, he on the plaine
That with it joynes, his pitched tents extends,
And thence proceeding neere the towre below
Cald Angolar, the rest he doth bestow.
65. The circuit of the campe might neere comprize
The cities third part, or but little lesse,
For to enclose it round the same suffize
At full could not, such were her hugynesse.
But all the wayes (at least) which might supplyes
Afford, Godfrey to stop gan him addresse,
And causeth to be sei’zd ech passage fit
That serv’d to come and go too and from it.
66. A charge he gives his tents should fortifide
With ditches deepe and with strong trenches bee,
Which it from townesmens sallyes on th’one side,
And straunge assaults might on t’other free.
Then after these dew workes to end were hide,
Dudons carcasse he tooke a mind to see,
And thither went where that good captaine ded
With sad and tearefull troupe was compassed.
67. His faithfull friends adorned his great beare
With noble pomp, where plast aloft he lyes,
When Godfrey enters, and the people reare
More dolefull playning and more tatling cryes.
But with a looke nor troubled nor yet cleare
Good Bulleyn bridles his affects and tyes
His tongue. Then when his sight on him had stayed,
Fixed in muse somewhile at last he sayd:
68. “To thee nor plaint nor dole are dew, for death
If world thee sent, heav’n gives thee birth againe,
And here where off thou threwest thy mortall sheath,
Steps of thy glory printed deepe remaine.
Thou liv’dst as champion of the Christen faith,
And so thou did’st, now joyest thou, and faine
In God doest feede thine eyes, o soule of blisse,
And crownd and palmd thy well deserving is.
69. “Blessed live thou for our condition.
Not thy mis-hap invites these teares to fall,
Sith at thy parting parts a portion
Of us, most worthy and most strong withall.
But if from us an earthly aide is gon,
Depriv’d by that which death the vulgar call,
An heav’nly aide for us thy suit may gaine,
For mongst th’elect thee heav’n doth entertaine.
70. “And as we saw for our advantage thee,
Earst mortall man, these mortall armes to weeld,
So (sprite divine) our hope assures to see
With fatall armes of heav’n thou wilt us sheeld.
Learne now the prayers to receive which wee
Thee send, and succour to our evils yeeld.
Thence conquest I denounce, devout we will
Triumphant vowes at Church to thee fulfill.”
71. So spake he, and by this the evening darke
Had quenched all the rayes of lightsome day,
And with oblivion of ech noysome carke
Did truce on tears, and on lamentings lay.
But Godfrey warlicke engins want doth marke,
Which unsupplide, t’were vaine the wals t’assay.
He casts where beames to get, and how to make
The engins frames, and small rest can he take.
72. Up with the sunne he rose, and follow will
Himselfe the pompe of solemne funerall.
To Dudon at the foot of rysing hill
A sepulchre of cipresse sweete they stall,
Their barricados neere, and highest spill
Of palme tree, with his boughs orespreads it all.
There was he layd, the whiles the priestly throng
Rest to his soule do pray for in their song.
73. Amongst the boughes, where hang’d up here and there
Ensignes and prisond armes of divers sort
From Syrians and Perians that were
Earst wonne by him with better sped effort,
The armes and curets which he usde to weare
Did cloth the tronke, and tronke did them support.
Where after was ygrav’d, Here lyes Dudon,
Yeeld honours dew to this brave champion.
74. But godly Bulleyn, having brought to end
This worke so dolorous and so devout,
The carpenters of all the campe doth send
With souldiers convoy to the forrest out.
It lyes twixt valleyes hidden, and a friend
Of Syria made it knowne to Frankish rout.
March thither they to cut downe engines take,
Gainst which the citie no defence may make.
75. Ech on his mate to fell the plants doth call,
And gainst the wood to worke unusde outrage.
Hewne by the yrons piercing edge, downe fall
The sacred palme-trees and th’ashes savage,
The maples, pines, the cipresse funerall,
High firres, beeches, and holmes of thicke bowage,
The husband elmes, to which the vine sometimes
Leanes, and with wrythed foot to heaven climes.
76. Some stroke in ewes, some are in okes enchac’d,
Which have a thousand times their locked renewd,
And thousand times (at ech encounter fast)
The wrath of windes repulsed and subdewd.
And some on ratling wheeles the burdens plac’d
Of ornes and ceders with sweete sent imbewd.
At sound of armes, at divers cry the beasts
And birdes forsake their caves, and fly their neasts.
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