At the lover’s side there hung a strange accoutrement for a warrior, namely, a crystal mirror.  He rose a little on his elbow, and gave it into Armida’s hands:  and in two different objects each beheld but one emotion, she hers in the glass, and he his own in her eyes.  But he would not suffer her to look long at any thing but himself; and then they spake loving and adoring words; and after a while Armida bound up her hair, and put some flowers into it, as jewels might be put upon gold, and added a rose or two to the lilies of her bosom, and adjusted her veil.  And never did peacock look so proudly beautiful when he displays the pomp of his eyed plumes; nor was ever the rainbow so sweetly coloured when it curves forth its dewy bosom against the light.[12] But lovely above all was the effect of a magic girdle which the enchantress had made with her whole art, and which she never laid aside day or night.  Spirit in it had taken substance; the subtlest emotions of the soul a shape and palpability.  Tender disdains were in it, and repulses that attracted, and levities that endeared, and contentments full of joy, and smiles, and little words, and drops of delicious tears, and short-coming sighs, and soft kisses.  All these she had mingled together, and made one delight out of many, and wound it about her heart, and wore it for a charm irresistible.[13]

And now she kissed him once more, and begged leave of a little absence (for love is courteous ever), and so went as usual to her books and her magic arts.  Rinaldo remained where he was, for he had no power to wish himself out of the sweet spot; only he would stray a while among the trees, and amuse himself with the birds and squirrels, and so be a loving hermit till she returned.  And at night they retired under one roof, still in the midst of the garden.

But no sooner had Armida gone, than the two warriors issued from their hiding-place, and stood before the lover, glittering in their noble arms.

As a war-horse, that has been taken from the wars, and become the luxurious husband of the stud, wanders among the drove in the meadows in vile enjoyment; should by chance a trumpet be heard in the place, or a dazzling battle-axe become visible, he turns towards it on the instant, and neighs, and longs to be in the lists, and vehemently desires the rider on his back who is to dash and be dashed at in the encounter;—­even so turned the young hero when the light of the armour flashed upon him, even so longed for the war, even so shook himself up out of his bed of pleasure, with all his great qualities awaked and eager.

Ubaldo saw the movement in his heart, and held right in his face the shield of adamant, which had been brought for the purpose.  It was a mirror that shewed to the eyes of every one who looked into it the very man as he was.

But when Rinaldo beheld himself indeed,—­when he read his transformation, not in the flattering glass of the enchantress, but by the light of this true, and simple, and severe reflector,—­his hair tricked out with flowers and unguents, his soft mantle of exquisitest dye, and his very sword rendered undistinguishable for what it was by a garland,—­shame and remorse fell upon him.  He felt indeed like a dreamer come to himself.  He looked down.  He could not speak.  He wished to hide himself in the bottom of the sea.