CXLI
He that till then his proud and haughty heart
To act of humbleness did never bend,
When that great name he heard, from the north part
Of our wide world renowned to Aethiop’s end,
Answered, “I yield to thee, thou worthy art,
I am thy prisoner, fortune is thy friend:
On Altamoro great thy conquest bold
Of glory shall be rich, and rich of gold:
CXLII
“My loving queen, my wife and lady kind
Shall ransom me with jewels, gold and treasure.”
“God shield,” quoth Godfrey, “that my noble mind
Should praise and virtue so by profit measure,
All that thou hast from Persia and from Inde
Enjoy it still, therein I take no pleasure;
I set no rent on life, no price on blood,
I fight, and sell not war for gold or good.”
CXLIII
This said, he gave him to his knights to keep
And after those that fled his course he bent;
They to their rampiers fled and trenches deep,
Yet could not so death’s cruel stroke prevent:
The camp was won, and all in blood doth steep
The blood in rivers streamed from tent to tent,
It soiled, defiled, defaced all the prey,
Shields, helmets, armors, plumes and feathers gay.
CXLIV
Thus conquered Godfrey, and as yet the sun
Dived not in silver waves his golden wain,
But daylight served him to the fortress won
With his victorious host to turn again,
His bloody coat he put not off, but run
To the high temple with his noble train,
And there hung up his arms, and there he bows
His knees, there prayed, and there performed his vows.