Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  “Whence comes young Eustace, and what seeks he here?”

  “I come,” quoth he, “to serve the Queen Armide,

  If she accept me, would we all were there

  Where my good-will and faith might best be tried.”

  “Who,” quoth the other, “choseth thee to prove

  This high exploit of hers?” He answered, “Love.”

  LXXXII

  “Love hath Eustatio chosen, Fortune thee,

  In thy conceit which is the best election?”

  “Nay, then, these shifts are vain,” replied he,

  “These titles false serve thee for no protection,

  Thou canst not here for this admitted be

  Our fellow-servant, in this sweet subjection.”

  “And who,” quoth Eustace, angry, “dares deny

  My fellowship?” Rambaldo answered, “I.”

  LXXXIII

  And with that word his cutting sword he drew,

  That glittered bright, and sparkled flaming fire;

  Upon his foe the other champion flew,

  With equal courage, and with equal ire.

  The gentle princess, who the danger knew,

  Between them stepped, and prayed them both retire.

  “Rambald,” quoth she, “why should you grudge or plain,

  If I a champion, you an helper gain?

  LXXXIV

  “If me you love, why wish you me deprived

  In so great need of such a puissant knight?

  But welcome Eustace, in good time arrived,

  Defender of my state, my life, my right.

  I wish my hapless self no longer lived,

  When I esteem such good assistance light.”

  Thus talked they on, and travelled on their way

  Their fellowship increasing every day.

  LXXXV

  From every side they come, yet wist there none

  Of others coming or of others’ mind,

  She welcomes all, and telleth every one,

  What joy her thoughts in his arrival find.

  But when Duke Godfrey wist his knights were gone,

  Within his breast his wiser soul divined

  Some hard mishap upon his friends should light,

  For which he sighed all day, and wept all night.

  LXXXVI

  A messenger, while thus he mused, drew near,

  All soiled with dust and sweat, quite out of breath,

  It seemed the man did heavy tidings bear,

  Upon his looks sate news of loss and death:

  “My lord,” quoth he, “so many ships appear

  At sea, that Neptune bears the load uneath,

  From Egypt come they all, this lets thee weet

  William Lord Admiral of the Genoa fleet,

  LXXXVII

  “Besides a convoy coming from the shore

  With victual for this noble camp of thine

  Surprised was, and lost is all that store,

  Mules, horses, camels laden, corn and wine;

  Thy servants fought till they could fight no more,

  For all were slain or captives made in fine:

  The Arabian outlaws them assailed by night,

  When least they feared, and least they looked for fight.

  LXXXVIII

  “Their frantic boldness doth presume so far,

  That many Christians have they falsely slain,

  And like a raging flood they spared are,

  And overflow each country, field and plain;

  Send therefore some strong troops of men of war,

  To force them hence, and drive them home again,

  And keep the ways between these tents of thine

  And those broad seas, the seas of Palestine.”

  LXXXIX

  From mouth to mouth the heavy rumor spread

  Of these misfortunes, which dispersed wide

  Among the soldiers, great amazement bred;

  Famine they doubt, and new come foes beside:

  The duke, that saw their wonted courage fled,

  And in the place thereof weak fear espied,

  With merry looks these cheerful words he spake,

  To make them heart again and courage take.

  XC

  “You champions bold, with me that ‘scaped have

  So many dangers, and such hard assays,

  Whom still your God did keep, defend and save

  In all your battles, combats, fights and frays,

  You that subdued the Turks and Persians brave,

  That thirst and hunger held in scorn always,

  And vanquished hills, and seas, with heat and cold,

  Shall vain reports appal your courage bold?

  XCI

  “That Lord who helped you out at every need,

  When aught befell this glorious camp amiss,

  Shall fortune all your actions well to speed,

  On whom his mercy large extended is;

  Tofore his tomb, when conquering hands you spreed,

  With what delight will you remember this?

  Be strong therefore, and keep your valors high

  To honor, conquest, fame and victory.”

  XCII

  Their hopes half dead and courage well-nigh lost,

  Revived with these brave speeches of their guide;

  But in his breast a thousand cares he tost,

  Although his sorrows he could wisely hide;

  He studied how to feed that mighty host,

  In so great scarceness, and what force provide

  He should against the Egyptian warriors sly,

  And how subdue those thieves of Araby.

  SIXTH BOOK

  THE ARGUMENT.

  Otho not chosen doth his strength assay,

  But from his saddle tumbleth in the dust,

  And captive to the town is sent away:

  Tancred begins new fight, and when both trust

  To win the praise and palm, night ends the fray:

  Erminia hopes to cure her wounded knight,

  And from the city armed rides by night.

  I

  But better hopes had them recomforted

  That lay besieged in the sacred town;

  With new supply late were they victualled,

  When night obscured the earth with shadows brown;

  Their armes and engines on the walls they spread,

  Their slings to cast, and stones to tumble down;

  And all that side which to the northward lies,

  High rampiers and strong bulwarks fortifies.

  II

  Their wary king commands now here now there,

  To build this tower, to make that bulwark strong,

  Whether the sun, the moon, or stars appear,

  To give them time to work, no time comes wrong:

  In every street new weapons forged were,

  By cunning smiths, sweating with labor long;

  While thus the careful prince provision made,

  To him Argantes came, and boasting said:

  III

  “How long shall we, like prisoners in chains,

  Captived lie inclosed within this wall?

  I see your workmen taking endless pains

  To make new weapons for no use at all;

  Meanwhile these western thieves destroy the plains,

  Your towns are burnt, your forts and castles fall,

  Yet none of us dares at these gates out-peep,

  Or sound one trumpet shrill to break their sleep.

  IV

  “Their time in feasting and good cheer they spend,

  Nor dare we once their banquets sweet molest,

  The days and night likewise they bring to end,

  In peace, assurance, quiet, ease and rest;

  But we must yield whom hunger soon will shend,

  And make for peace, to save our lives, request,

  Else, if th’ Egyptian army stay too long,

  Like cowards die within t
his fortress strong.

  V

  “Yet never shall my courage great consent

  So vile a death should end my noble days,

  Nor on mine arms within these walls ypent

  To-morrow’s sun shall spread his timely rays:

  Let sacred Heavens dispose as they are bent

  Of this frail life, yet not withouten praise

  Of valor, prowess, might, Argantes shall

  Inglorious die, or unrevenged fall.

  VI

  “But if the roots of wonted chivalry

  Be not quite dead your princely breast within,

  Devise not how with frame and praise to die,

  But how to live, to conquer and to win;

  Let us together at these gates outfly,

  And skirmish bold and bloody fight begin;

  For when last need to desperation driveth,

  Who dareth most he wisest counsel giveth.

  VII

  “But if in field your wisdom dare not venture

  To hazard all your troops to doubtful fight,

  Then bind yourself to Godfrey by indenture,

  To end your quarrels by one single knight:

  And for the Christian this accord shall enter

  With better will, say such you know your right

  That he the weapons, place and time shall choose,

  And let him for his best, that vantage use.

  VIII

  “For though your foe had hands, like Hector strong,

  With heart unfeared, and courage stern and stout,

  Yet no misfortune can your justice wrong,

  And what that wanteth, shall this arm help out,

  In spite of fate shall this right hand ere long,

  Return victorious: if hereof you doubt,

  Take it for pledge, wherein if trust you have,

  It shall yourself defend and kingdom save.”

  IX

  “Bold youth,” the tyrant thus began to speak,

  “Although I withered seem with age and years,

  Yet are not these old arms so faint and weak,

  Nor this hoar head so full of doubts and fears

  But whenas death this vital thread shall break,

  He shall my courage hear, my death who hears:

  And Aladine that lived a king and knight,

  To his fair morn will have an evening bright.

  X

  “But that which yet I would have further blazed,

  To thee in secret shall be told and spoken,

  Great Soliman of Nice, so far ypraised,

  To be revenged for his sceptre broken,

  The men of arms of Araby hath raised,

  From Inde to Africk, and, when we give token,

  Attends the favor of the friendly night

  To victual us, and with our foes to fight.

  XI

  “Now though Godfredo hold by warlike feat

  Some castles poor and forts in vile oppression,

  Care not for that; for still our princely seat,

  This stately town, we keep in our possession,

  But thou appease and calm that courage great,

  Which in thy bosom make so hot impression;

  And stay fit time, which will betide ere long,

  To increase thy glory, and revenge our wrong.”

  XII

  The Saracen at this was inly spited,

  Who Soliman’s great worth had long envied,

  To hear him praised thus he naught delighted,

  Nor that the king upon his aid relied:

  “Within your power, sir king,” he says, “united

  Are peace and war, nor shall that be denied;

  But for the Turk and his Arabian band,

  He lost his own, shall he defend your land?

  XIII

  “Perchance he comes some heavenly messenger,

  Sent down to set the Pagan people free,

  Then let Argantes for himself take care,

  This sword, I trust, shall well safe-conduct me:

  But while you rest and all your forces spare,

  That I go forth to war at least agree;

  Though not your champion, yet a private knight,

  I will some Christian prove in single fight.”

  XIV

  The king replied, “Though thy force and might

  Should be reserved to better time and use;

  Yet that thou challenge some renowned knight,

  Among the Christians bold I not refuse.”

  The warrior breathing out desire of fight,

  An herald called, and said, “Go tell those news

  To Godfrey’s self, and to the western lords,

  And in their hearings boldly say these words:

  XV

  “Say that a knight, who holds in great disdain

  To be thus closed up in secret mew,

  Will with his sword in open field maintain,

  If any dare deny his words for true,

  That no devotion, as they falsely feign,

  Hath moved the French these countries to subdue;

  But vile ambition, and pride’s hateful vice,

  Desire of rule, and spoil, and covetice.

  XVI

  “And that to fight I am not only prest

  With one or two that dare defend the cause,

  But come the fourth or fifth, come all the rest,

  Come all that will, and all that weapon draws,

  Let him that yields obey the victor’s hest,

  As wills the lore of mighty Mars his laws:”

  This was the challenge that fierce Pagan sent,

  The herald donned his coat-of-arms, and went.

  XVII

  And when the man before the presence came

  Of princely Godfrey, and his captains bold:

  “My Lord,” quoth he, “may I withouten blame

  Before your Grace, my message brave unfold?”

  “Thou mayest,” he answered, “we approve the same;

  Withouten fear, be thine ambassage told.”

  “Then,” quoth the herald, “shall your highness see,

  If this ambassage sharp or pleasing be.”

  XVIII

  The challenge gan he then at large expose,

  With mighty threats, high terms and glorious words;

  On every side an angry murmur rose,

  To wrath so moved were the knights and lords.

  Then Godfrey spake, and said, “The man hath chose

  An hard exploit, but when he feels our swords,

  I trust we shall so far entreat the knight,

  As to excuse the fourth or fifth of fight.

  XIX

  “But let him come and prove, the field I grant,

  Nor wrong nor treason let him doubt or fear,

  Some here shall pay him for his glorious vaunt,

  Without or guile, or vantage, that I swear.

  The herald turned when he had ended scant,

  And hasted back the way he came whileare,

  Nor stayed he aught, nor once forslowed his pace,

  Till he bespake Argantes face to face.

  XX

  “Arm you, my lord,” he said, “your bold defies

  By your brave foes accepted boldly been,

  This combat neither high nor low denies,

  Ten thousand wish to meet you on the green;

  A thousand frowned with angry flaming eyes,

  And shaked for rage their swords and weapons keen;

  The field is safely granted by their guide,”

  This said, the champion for his armor cried.

  XXI

  While he was armed, his heart for ire nigh brake,

  So yearned his courage hot his foes to find:

  The King to fair Clorinda present spake;

  “If he go forth, remain not you behind,

  But of our soldiers best a thousand take,

  To guard his person and your own assigned;

 
Yet let him meet alone the Christian knight,

  And stand yourself aloof, while they two fight.”

  XXII

  Thus spake the King, and soon without abode

  The troop went forth in shining armor clad,

  Before the rest the Pagan champion rode,

  His wonted arms and ensigns all he had:

  A goodly plain displayed wide and broad,

  Between the city and the camp was spread,

  A place like that wherein proud Rome beheld

  The forward young men manage spear and shield.

  XXIII

  There all alone Argantes took his stand,

  Defying Christ and all his servants true,

  In stature, stomach, and in strength of hand,

  In pride, presumption, and in dreadful show,

  Encelade like, on the Phlegrean strand,

  Or that huge giant Jesse’s infant slew;

  But his fierce semblant they esteemed light,

  For most not knew, or else not feared his might.

  XXIV

  As yet not one had Godfrey singled out

  To undertake this hardy enterprise,

  But on Prince Tancred saw he all the rout

  Had fixed their wishes, and had cast their eyes,

  On him he spied them gazing round about,

  As though their honor on his prowess lies,

  And now they whispered louder what they meant,

  Which Godfrey heard and saw, and was content.

  XXV

  The rest gave place; for every one descried

  To whom their chieftain’s will did most incline,

  “Tancred,” quoth he, “I pray thee calm the pride,

  Abate the rage of yonder Saracine:”

  No longer would the chosen champion bide,

  His face with joy, his eyes with gladness shine,

  His helm he took, and ready steed bestrode,

  And guarded with his trusty friends forth rode.

  XXVI

  But scantly had he spurred his courser swift

  Near to the plain, where proud Argantes stayed,

  When unawares his eyes he chanced to lift,

  And on the hill beheld the warlike maid,

  As white as snow upon the Alpine clift

  The virgin shone in silver arms arrayed,

  Her vental up so high, that he descried

  Her goodly visage, and her beauty’s pride.

  XXVII

  He saw not where the Pagan stood, and stared,

  As if with looks he would his foeman kill,

  But full of other thoughts he forward fared,

  And sent his looks before him up the hill,

  His gesture such his troubled soul declared,

  At last as marble rock he standeth still,

  Stone cold without; within, burnt with love’s flame,

  And quite forgot himself, and why he came.

  XXVIII

  The challenger, that yet saw none appear

  That made or sign or show he came to just,