_Godfrey_ of Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine.
_Alexius_, Emperor of Greece.
_Bohemond_, Prince of Tarentum.
_Tancred_.
_Raymond_, Count of Thoulouse.
Alex.
The truce being ended, I propose, my friends,
To-morrow we should storm the walls of Antioch--
What say my worthy allies?--
Boh.
If any here so base and cowardly,
As to give other counsel, let him speak.--
Ray.
I have known those, who foremost to advise,
Were yet the last to venture on the battle.--
Boh.
What means the Count of Thoulouse?--
Ray. Simply this;--
That some men thoughtlessly sit down to eat,
Without having first obtained an appetite.--
Boh.
By the Holy Sepulchre I swear,
That knight must have some stomach who maintains,
What you have just now utter'd--
[Throws down his gauntlet.]
There lays my guage--
If you will wear my glove, choose with what arms
We shall decide this quarrel.--
[Raymond advances to take up the glove.]
God.
Hold, Thoulouse, let it lay.--
I do impeach Bohemond of Tarentum of base wiles,
And treachery most foul, to knighthood's cause--
Boh.
Why then take you the glove.--
God.
In mine own cause I do accept the challenge.--
[Takes up the glove.]
Alex.
Is our league dissolv'd, and shall the holy cause
For which embattled Europe is in arms,
Be idly given to the scorn of men,
To gratify our passions and vile feuds?--
But speak Lorraine, for you have heretofore
Been held the mediator in these jars--
Upon what quarrel do you thus arraign
Bohemond of Tarentum?--
God.
A gorgeous canopy, a present from
The gov'nor of Armenia I have lost--
By what base means, Bohemond best can tell.--
Boh.
True he can tell--and briefly thus it is--
I won the silken bauble in a fight,
And claim it as my spoil.--
God.
You basely stole
The treasure of a friend--Pancrates had
The conduct of the present to my camp;
You coward-like surprised him on the way,
And robb'd him of my prize.--
Boh. (Contemptuously) Well be it so--
I stole it, and will keep it--
You may keep the glove.--
Alex.
Christians, forbear, the Infidels will laugh,
To know a silken toy has broke our league,
And sav'd the Sepulchre--It must not be,
My friends, that private discord shall cut short
The work we have begun--Bohemond, no--
Restore the treasure to its rightful Lord,
And my pavilion shall replace the spoil.--
Boh.
I do consent--provided Godfrey will
Return my glove to the brave Count of Thoulouse--
Alex.
That's nobly done Bohemond--but the war
'Twixt you and Thoulouse, is a war of words--
Like two pert game cocks picking at a straw,
You doubt each other's courage--then make proof
Upon the Paynim forces if you please,
Which is the braver man--To-morrow's field
Will afford ample scope to try your blades
Upon the common enemy of each,
And leave unscathed his ally--I propose,
That he who first shall scale the citadel,
And plant the Red-Cross banner on the walls,
Shall be rewarded with the victor's prize,
And hold the government of Antioch--
What says the council?--
All the Chiefs.
We are all agreed.--
(Bohemond and Raymond advance and shake hands in apparent token of
agreement.)
[Enter a Greek Messenger.]
Mes.
The Persian succors are but one day's march,
Beyond the Orontes.--
God.
Why let them come and help to bury then,
Their Paynim brothers.--Friends, I give you joy--
Curse on my fortune, I do much regret
The iv'ry tushes of that ruthless boar,
Will keep me from the contest for fair fame.--
Bohemond, you shall lead my Frisons on--
And doubt not but you'll win the prize from Thoulouse.--
Boh.
I thank your grace.