ately. The Frenchmen all
flocked to see her, wondering who she was, and who could have sent them
so lovely a messenger. Armida passed onwards, not with a misgiving air,
not with an unalluring, and yet not with an immodest one. Her golden
tresses she suffered at one moment to escape from under her veil, and
at another she gathered them again within it. Her rosy mouth breathed
simplicity as well as voluptuousness. Her bosom was so artfully draped,
as to let itself be discerned without seeming to intend it. And thus she
passed along, surprising and transporting every body. Coming at length
among the tents of the officers, she requested to be shewn that of the
leader; and Eustace eagerly stepped forward to conduct her.

Eustace was the younger brother of Godfrey. He had all the ardour of his
time of life, and the gallantry, in every respect, of a Frenchman. After
paying her a profusion of compliments, and learning that she was a
fugitive in distress, he promised her every thing which his brother's
authority and his own sword could do for her; and so led her into
Godfrey's presence.

The pretended fugitive made a lowly obeisance, and then stood mute and
blushing, till the general re-assured her. She then told him, that she
was the rightful queen of Damascus, whose throne was usurped by an uncle;
that her uncle sought her death, from which she had been saved by the man
who was bribed to inflict it; and that although her creed was Mahometan,
she had brought her mind to conclude, that so noble an enemy as Godfrey
would take pity on her condition, and permit some of his captains to aid
the secret wishes of her people, and seat her on the throne. Ten selected
chiefs would overcome, she said, all opposition; and she promised in
return to become his grateful and faithful vassal.

The leader of the Christian army sat a while in deliberation. His heart
was inclined to befriend the lady, but his prudence was afraid of a Pagan
artifice. He thought also that it did not become his piety to turn aside
from the enterprise which God had favoured. He therefore gave her a
gentle refusal; but added, that should success attend him, and Jerusalem
be taken, he would instantly do what she required.

Armida looked down, and wept. A mixture of indignation and despair
appeared to seize her; and exclaiming that she had no longer a wish to
live, she accused, she said, not a heart so renowned for generosity as
his, but Heaven itself which had steeled