[Footnote 6:  This tomb, Tancred says, in an address which he makes to it,

“has his flames inside of it, and his tears without:” 
“Che dentro hai le mie fiamme, e fuori il pianto.”  St. 96.]

I am loath to disturb the effect of a really touching story; but if I do not occasionally give instances of these conceits, my translations will belie my criticism.]

RINALDO AND ARMIDA: 

WITH THE

ADVENTURES OF THE ENCHANTED FOREST.

Argument.

PART I.—­Satan assembles the fiends in council to consider the best means of opposing the Christians.  Armida, the niece of the wizard king of Damascus, is incited to go to their camp under false pretences, and endeavour to weaken it; which she does by seducing away many of the knights, and sowing a discord which ends in the flight of Rinaldo.

PART II.—­Armida, after making the knights feel the power of her magic, dismisses them bound prisoners for Damascus.  They are rescued on their way by Rinaldo.  Armida pursues him in wrath, but falls in love with him.

PART III.—­The magician Ismeno succeeds in frightening the Christians in their attempt to cut wood from the Enchanted Forest.  Rinaldo is sent for, as the person fated to undo the enchantment.

PART IV.—­Rinaldo and Armida, in love with each other, pass their time in a bower of bliss.  He is fetched away by two knights, and leaves her in despair.

PART V.—­Rinaldo disenchants the forest, and has the chief hand in the taking of Jerusalem.  He meets and reconciles Armida.  RINALDO AND ARMIDA, ETC.

Part the First

ARMIDA IN THE CHRISTIAN CAMP.

The Christians had now commenced their attack on Jerusalem, and brought a great rolling tower against the walls, built from the wood of a forest in the neigbbourhood; when the Malignant Spirit, who has never ceased his war with Heaven, cast in his mind how he might best defeat their purpose.  It was necessary to divide their forces; to destroy their tower; to hinder them from building another; and to make one final triumphant effort against the whole progress of their arms.

Forgetting how the right arm of God could launch its thunderbolts, the Fiend accordingly seated himself on his throne, and ordered his powers to be brought together.  The Tartarean trumpet, with its hoarse voice, called up the dwellers in everlasting darkness.  The huge black caverns trembled to their depths, and the blind air rebellowed with the thunder.  The bolt does not break forth so horribly when it comes bursting after the flash out of the heavens; nor had the world before ever trembled with such an earthquake.[1]

The gods of the abyss came thronging up on all sides through the gates;—­terrible-looking beings with unaccountable aspects, dispensers of death and horror with their eyes;—­some stamping with hoofs, some rolling on enormous spires,—­their faces human, their hair serpents.  There were thousands of shameless Harpies, of pallid Gorgons, of barking Scyllas, of Chimeras that vomited ashes, and of monsters never before heard or thought of, with perverse aspects all mixed up in one.