LXVII · Section 6

LXVII “They have Rinaldo slain, the sword and shield Of Christ’s true faith, and unrevenged he lies; Still unrevenged lieth in the field His noble corpse to feed the crows and pies: Who murdered him? who shall us certain yield? Who sees not that, although he wanted eyes? Who knows not how the Italian chivalry Proud Godfrey and false Baldwin both envy

LXVIII “What need we further proof? Heaven, heaven, I swear, Will not consent herein we be beguiled, This night I saw his murdered sprite appear, Pale, sad and wan, with wounds and blood defiled, A spectacle full both of grief and fear; Godfrey, for murdering him, the ghost reviled. I saw it was no dream, before mine eyes, Howe’er I look, still, still methinks it flies.