My wrongs forever shall my soul engage;
And co-eternal be my mighty rage.*

When Death's resistless hand has laid me low, Still will I rise again, a fiercer foe;

My fleshless sprite shall burst th' eternal gloom, And my great vengeance live beyond the tomb."

* See note 65.

JERUSALEM DELIVERED.

CANTO X.

ARGUMENT.

Solyman resolves to join the Egyptian army then advancing against the Christians. On his way he is awakened from his sleep by the Enchanter Ismeno, who exorts him to return to Jerusalem and assist in defending the City. He conveys him thither in an enchanted chariot. They enter the Town by a subterraneous passage, and surrounded with a cloud which renders them invisible, make their way to the council chamber of the King, who is debating in the midst of his Nobles. Speeches of the King-of Argantes-and of Orcan, a noble of Palestine, who advise that submission should be made to Godfrey. Indignation of Solyman, who requests Ismeno to render them visible. The cloud instantly vanishes, and the Sultan bursts upon the astonished spectators. His speech. Godfrey receives from the Knights who had been led away by Armida, an account of their adventures, of their temporary transformation into fishes, and their liberation from captivity by Rinaldo, which disproves the reports of that hero's death. Joy of Peter the Hermit, who is supernaturally inspired to foretel the future glories of Rinaldo and his posterity.,

JERUSALEM DELIVERED.

CANTO X.

WHILE yet he spake, an horse, that roam'd at large O'er the wide field, disburthen'd of his charge, He 'spied; athwart his path the courser stray'd;

His ready hand upon the reins he laid,

And though with toil o'erspent, with anguish wrung,
Light on his back the matchless warrier sprung.
Fall'n were his helm's proud honours; fall'n his crest,
That tow'r'd so high, in plumy glories drest;
Torn was his gorgeous robe; nor met the eye
One pledge, or attribute of royalty.

As some gaunt wolf, that from the pillag'd fold,
Where revell'd late th' intruder uncontroll❜d,
For shelter flies, by shouting men pursu'd;
Though his deep paunch be wide distent with blood,
Yet still he lolls his tongue, athirst for more,
And licks his greedy lips, that reek with gore:

So from the murd'rous field the Sultan hied,
Though gorg'd with slaughter, yet unsatisfied.
From clouds of sounding darts that round him flew,
From spears, and swords, and death he slow withdrew;
So will'd his Fate: through desert paths and lone
He journey'd, unregarded and unknown,

New projects fram'd, and varying plans revolv'd,
In thought's wild tempest tost, and unresolv'd.
At length he fixes to direct his course
Where Egypt's King collects his mighty force;
With him to join his arms, and boldly dare
Once more the renovated chance of war.
Decided thus, he makes no vain delay,
But on the spot, impatient, takes his way;
The track well known, he needs no aiding hand
To guide his steps to Gaza's arid strand.
Though smarting with his recent wounds, and sore,
Though scarce his drooping limbs their burden bore,
Not once his pond'rous arms aside he throws,
But through the day moves on, and scorns repose.
At length when Night her dusky shadows deals,
Night, that the varying hues of nature steals,
And to the world a sable vesture lends,

From his tired horse the unconquer'd Chief descends,
Binds up his wounds, and from the palms that shoot
Their heads aloft, he shakes the scanty fruit.
His strength restored, upon the naked field
He sank, his head reclining on his shield,
To ease his languid frame, with toils opprest,
And his vexed thoughts suspend awhile in rest.
But raging still with keener smart he found
The sleepless anguish of each throbbing wound;