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l wash This stain away, who kindled this debate, And led by hasty rage and fury rash, To these disorders first undid the gate;" While thus he spoke, the lightning beams did flash Out of his eyes of majesty and state, That Argillan, -- who would have thought it? -- shook For fear and terror, conquered with his look. LXXXII The rest with indiscreet and foolish wrath Who threatened late with words of shame and pride, Whose hands so ready were to harm and scath, And brandished bright swords on every side; Now hushed and still attend what Godfrey saith, With shame and fear their bashful looks they hide, And Argillan they let in chains be bound, Although their weapons him environed round. LXXXIII So when a lion shakes his dreadful mane, And beats his tail with courage proud and wroth, If his commander come, who first took pain To tame his youth, his lofty crest down goeth, His threats he feareth, and obeys the rein Of thralldom base, and serviceage, though loth, Nor can his sharp teeth nor his armed paws, Force him rebel against his ruler's laws. LXXXIV Fame as a winged warrior they beheld, With semblant fierce and furious look that stood, And in his left hand had a splendent shield Wherewith he covered safe their chieftain good, His other hand a naked sword did wield, From which distilling fell the lukewarm blood, The blood pardie of many a realm and town, Whereon the Lord his wrath had poured down. LXXXV Thus was the tumult, without bloodshed, ended. Their arms laid down, strife into exile sent. Godfrey his thoughts to greater actions bended. And homeward to his rich pavilion went, For to assault the fortress he intended Before the second or third day were spent; Meanwhile his timber wrought he oft surveyed Whereof his ram and engines great he made. NINTH BOOK THE ARGUMENT. Alecto false great Solyman doth move By night the Christians in their tents to kill: But God who their intents saw from above, Sends Michael down from his sacred hill: The spirits foul to hell the angels drove; The knights delivered from the witch, at will Destroy the Pagans, scatter all their host: The Soldan flies when all his bands are lost. I The grisly child of Erebus the grim, Who saw these tumults done and tempest spent, Gainst stream of grace who ever strove to swim And all her thoughts again
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