Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  And kept them since closed up in secret mew,

  Lastly, to Gaza-ward in bonds them sent,

  Whom young Rinaldo rescued as they went.

  LI

  “What chanced since I will at large declare,

  To you unknown, a story strange and true.

  When first her prey, got with such pain and care,

  Escaped and gone the witch perceived and knew,

  Her hands she wrung for grief, her clothes she tare,

  And full of woe these heavy words outthrew:

  ‘Alas! my knights are slain, my prisoners free,

  Yet of that conquest never boast shall he,

  LII

  “‘He in their place shall serve me, and sustain

  Their plagues, their torments suffer, sorrows bear,

  And they his absence shall lament in vain,

  And wail his loss and theirs with many a tear:’

  Thus talking to herself she did ordain

  A false and wicked guile, as you shall hear;

  Thither she hasted where the valiant knight

  Had overcome and slain her men in fight.

  LIII

  “Rinaldo there had dolt and left his own,

  And on his back a Pagan’s harness tied,

  Perchance he deemed so to pass unknown,

  And in those arms less noted false to ride.

  A headless corse in fight late overthrown,

  The witch in his forsaken arms did hide,

  And by a brook exposed it on the sand

  Whither she wished would come a Christian band:

  LIV

  “Their coming might the dame foreknow right well,

  For secret spies she sent forth thousand ways,

  Which every day news from the camp might tell,

  Who parted thence, booties to search or preys:

  Beside, the sprites conjured by sacred spell,

  All what she asks or doubts, reveals and says,

  The body therefore placed she in that part

  That furthered best her sleight, her craft and art;

  LV

  “And near the corpse a varlet false and sly

  She left, attired in shepherd’s homely weed,

  And taught him how to counterfeit and lie

  As time required, and he performed the deed;

  With him your soldiers spoke, of jealousy

  And false suspect mongst them he strewed the seed,

  That since brought forth the fruit of strife and jar,

  Of civil brawls, contention, discord, war.

  LVI

  “And as she wished so the soldiers thought

  By Godfrey’s practice that the prince was slain,

  Yet vanished that suspicion false to naught

  When truth spread forth her silver wings again

  Her false devices thus Armida wrought,

  This was her first deceit, her foremost train;

  What next she practised, shall you hear me tell,

  Against our knight, and what thereof befell.

  LVII

  “Armida hunted him through wood and plain,

  Till on Orontes’ flowery banks he stayed,

  There, where the stream did part and meet again

  And in the midst a gentle island made,

  A pillar fair was pight beside the main,

  Near which a little frigate floating laid,

  The marble white the prince did long behold,

  And this inscription read, there writ in gold:

  LVIII

  “‘Whoso thou art whom will or chance doth bring

  With happy steps to flood Orontes’ sides,

  Know that the world hath not so strange a thing,

  Twixt east and west, as this small island hides,

  Then pass and see, without more tarrying.’

  The hasty youth to pass the stream provides,

  And for the cogs was narrow, small and strait,

  Alone he rowed, and bade his squires there wait;

  LIX

  “Landed he stalks about, yet naught he sees

  But verdant groves, sweet shades, and mossy rocks

  With caves and fountains, flowers, herbs and trees,

  So that the words he read he takes for mocks:

  But that green isle was sweet at all degrees,

  Wherewith enticed down sits he and unlocks

  His closed helm, and bares his visage fair,

  To take sweet breath from cool and gentle air.

  LX

  “A rumbling sound amid the waters deep

  Meanwhile he heard, and thither turned his sight,

  And tumbling in the troubled stream took keep

  How the strong waves together rush and fight,

  Whence first he saw, with golden tresses, peep

  The rising visage of a virgin bright,

  And then her neck, her breasts, and all, as low

  As he for shame could see, or she could show.

  LXI

  “So in the twilight does sometimes appear

  A nymph, a goddess, or a fairy queen,

  And though no siren but a sprite this were

  Yet by her beauty seemed it she had been

  One of those sisters false which haunted near

  The Tyrrhene shores and kept those waters sheen,

  Like theirs her face, her voice was, and her sound,

  And thus she sung, and pleased both skies and ground:

  LXII

  “‘Ye happy youths, who April fresh and May

  Attire in flowering green of lusty age,

  For glory vain, or virtue’s idle ray,

  Do not your tender limbs to toil engage;

  In calm streams, fishes; birds, in sunshine play,

  Who followeth pleasure he is only sage,

  So nature saith, yet gainst her sacred will

  Why still rebel you, and why strive you still?

  LXIII

  “‘O fools who youth possess, yet scorn the same,

  A precious, but a short-abiding treasure,

  Virtue itself is but an idle name,

  Prized by the world ‘bove reason all and measure,

  And honor, glory, praise, renown and fame,

  That men’s proud harts bewitch with tickling pleasure,

  An echo is, a shade, a dream, a flower,

  With each wind blasted, spoiled with every shower.

  LXIV

  “‘But let your happy souls in joy possess

  The ivory castles of your bodies fair,

  Your passed harms salve with forgetfulness,

  Haste not your coming evils with thought and care,

  Regard no blazing star with burning tress,

  Nor storm, nor threatening sky, nor thundering air,

  This wisdom is, good life, and worldly bliss,

  Kind teacheth us, nature commands us this.’

  LXV

  “Thus sung the spirit false, and stealing sleep,

  To which her tunes enticed his heavy eyes,

  By step and step did on his senses creep,

  Still every limb therein unmoved lies,

  Not thunders loud could from this slumber deep,

  Of quiet death true image, make him rise:

  Then from her ambush forth Armida start,

  Swearing revenge, and threatening torments smart.

  LXVI

  “But when she looked on his face awhile,

  And saw how sweet he breathed, how still he lay,

  How his fair eyes though closed seemed to smile,

  At first she stayed, astound with great dismay,

  Then sat her down, so love can art beguile,

  And as she sat and looked, fled fast away

  Her wrath, that on his forehead gazed the maid,

  As in his spring Narcissus tooting laid;

  LXVII

  “And with a veil she wiped now and then

  From his fair cheeks the globes of silver sweat,


  And cool air gathered with a trembling fan,

  To mitigate the rage of melting heat,

  Thus, who would think it, his hot eye-glance can

  Of that cold frost dissolve the hardness great

  Which late congealed the heart of that fair dame,

  Who late a foe, a lover now became.

  LXVIII

  “Of woodbines, lilies, and of roses sweet,

  Which proudly flowered through that wanton plain,

  All platted fast, well knit, and joined meet,

  She framed a soft but surely holding chain,

  Wherewith she bound his neck his hands and feet;

  Thus bound, thus taken, did the prince remain,

  And in a coach which two old dragons drew,

  She laid the sleeping knight, and thence she flew:

  LXIX

  “Nor turned she to Damascus’ kingdoms large,

  Nor to the fort built in Asphalte’s lake,

  But jealous of her dear and precious charge,

  And of her love ashamed, the way did take,

  To the wide ocean whither skiff or barge

  From us doth seld or never voyage make,

  And there to frolic with her love awhile,

  She chose a waste, a sole and desert isle.

  LXX

  “An isle that with her fellows bears the name

  Of Fortunate, for temperate air and mould,

  There in a mountain high alight the dame,

  A hill obscured with shades of forests old,

  Upon whose sides the witch by art did frame

  Continual snow, sharp frost and winter cold,

  But on the top, fresh, pleasant, sweet and green,

  Beside a lake a palace built this queen.

  LXXI

  “There in perpetual sweet and flowering spring,

  She lives at ease, and joys her lord at will;

  The hardy youth from this strange prison bring

  Your valors must, directed by my skill,

  And overcome each monster and each thing,

  That guards the palace or that keeps the hill,

  Nor shall you want a guide, or engines fit,

  To bring you to the mount, or conquer it.

  LXXII

  “Beside the stream, yparted shall you find

  A dame, in visage young, but old in years,

  Her curled locks about her front are twined,

  A party-colored robe of silk she wears:

  This shall conduct you swift as air or wind,

  Or that flit bird that Jove’s hot weapon bears,

  A faithful pilot, cunning, trusty, sure,

  As Tiphys was, or skilful Palinure.

  LXXIII

  “At the hill’s foot, whereon the witch doth dwell,

  The serpents hiss, and cast their poison vilde,

  The ugly boars do rear their bristles fell,

  There gape the bears, and roar the lions wild;

  But yet a rod I have can easily quell

  Their rage and wrath, and make them meek and mild.

  Yet on the top and height of all the hill,

  The greatest danger lies, and greatest ill:

  LXXIV

  “There welleth out a fair, clear, bubbling spring,

  Whose waters pure the thirsty guests entice,

  But in those liquors cold the secret sting

  Of strange and deadly poison closed lies,

  One sup thereof the drinker’s heart doth bring

  To sudden joy, whence laughter vain doth rise,

  Nor that strange merriment once stops or stays,

  Till, with his laughter’s end, he end his days:

  LXXV

  “Then from those deadly, wicked streams refrain

  Your thirsty lips, despise the dainty cheer

  You find exposed upon the grassy plain,

  Nor those false damsels once vouchsafe to hear,

  That in melodious tunes their voices strain,

  Whose faces lovely, smiling, sweet, appear;

  But you their looks, their voice, their songs despise,

  And enter fair Armida’s paradise.

  LXXVI

  “The house is builded like a maze within,

  With turning stairs, false doors and winding ways,

  The shape whereof plotted in vellum thin

  I will you give, that all those sleights bewrays,

  In midst a garden lies, where many a gin

  And net to catch frail hearts, false Cupid lays;

  There in the verdure of the arbors green,

  With your brave champion lies the wanton queen.

  LXXVII

  “But when she haply riseth from the knight,

  And hath withdrawn her presence from the place,

  Then take a shield I have of diamonds bright,

  And hold the same before the young man’s face,

  That he may glass therein his garments light,

  And wanton soft attire, and view his case,

  That with the sight shame and disdain may move

  His heart to leave that base and servile love.

  LXXVIII

  “Now resteth naught that needful is to tell,

  But that you go secure, safe, sure and bold,

  Unseen the palace may you enter well,

  And pass the dangers all I have foretold,

  For neither art, nor charm, nor magic spell,

  Can stop your passage or your steps withhold,

  Nor shall Armida, so you guarded be,

  Your coming aught foreknow or once foresee:

  LXXIX

  “And eke as safe from that enchanted fort

  You shall return and scape unhurt away;

  But now the time doth us to rest exhort,

  And you must rise by peep of springing day.”

  This said, he led them through a narrow port,

  Into a lodging fair wherein they lay,

  There glad and full of thoughts he left his guests,

  And in his wonted bed the old man rests.

  FIFTEENTH BOOK

  THE ARGUMENT.

  And come where their strange bark in harbor lay,

  And setting sail behold on Egypt’s coast

  The monarch’s ships and armies in array:

  Their wind and pilot good, the seas in post

  They pass, and of long journeys make short way:

  The far-sought isle they find; Armida’s charms

  They scorn, they shun her sleights, despise her arms.

  I

  The rosy-fingered morn with gladsome ray

  Rose to her task from old Tithonus’ lap

  When their grave host came where the warriors lay,

  And with him brought the shield, the rod, the map.

  “Arise,” quoth he, “ere lately broken day,

  In his bright arms the round world fold or wrap,

  All what I promised, here I have them brought,

  Enough to bring Armida’s charms to naught.”

  II

  They started up, and every tender limb

  In sturdy steel and stubborn plate they dight,

  Before the old man stalked, they followed him

  Through gloomy shades of sad and sable night,

  Through vaults obscure again and entries dim,

  The way they came their steps remeasured right;

  But at the flood arrived, “Farewell,” quoth he,

  “Good luck your aid, your guide good fortune be.”

  III

  The flood received them in his bottom low

  And lilt them up above his billows thin;

  The waters so east up a branch or bough,

  By violence first plunged and dived therein:

  But when upon the shore the waves them throw,

  The knights for their fair guide to look begin,

  And gazing round a little bark they spied,

  Wherein a damsel sate the stern to guide.

  IV

/>   Upon her front her locks were curled new,

  Her eyes were courteous, full of peace and love;

  In look a saint, an angel bright in show,

  So in her visage grace and virtue strove;

  Her robe seemed sometimes red and sometimes blue,

  And changed still as she did stir or move;

  That look how oft man’s eye beheld the same

  So oft the colors changed, went and came.

  V

  The feathers so, that tender, soft, and plain,

  About the dove’s smooth neck close couched been,

  Do in one color never long remain,

  But change their hue gainst glimpse of Phoebus’ sheen;

  And now of rubies bright a vermeil chain,

  Now make a carknet rich of emeralds green;

  Now mingle both, now alter, turn and change

  To thousand colors, rich, pure, fair, and strange.

  VI

  “Enter this boat, you happy men,” she says,

  “Wherein through raging waves secure I ride,

  To which all tempest, storm, and wind obeys,

  All burdens light, benign is stream and tide:

  My lord, that rules your journeys and your ways,

  Hath sent me here, your servant and your guide.”

  This said, her shallop drove she gainst the sand,

  And anchor cast amid the steadfast land.

  VII

  They entered in, her anchors she upwound,

  And launched forth to sea her pinnace flit,

  Spread to the wind her sails she broad unbound,

  And at the helm sat down to govern it,

  Swelled the flood that all his banks he drowned

  To bear the greatest ship of burthen fit;

  Yet was her fatigue little, swift and light,

  That at his lowest ebb bear it he might.

  VIII

  Swifter than thought the friendly wind forth bore

  The sliding boat upon the rolling wave,

  With curded foam and froth the billows hoar

  About the cable murmur roar and rave;

  At last they came where all his watery store

  The flood in one deep channel did engrave,

  And forth to greedy seas his streams he sent,

  And so his waves, his name, himself he spent.

  IX

  The wondrous boat scant touched the troubled main

  But all the sea still, hushed and quiet was,

  Vanished the clouds, ceased the wind and rain,

  The tempests threatened overblow and pass,

  A gentle breathing air made even and plain

  The azure face of heaven’s smooth looking-glass,

  And heaven itself smiled from the skies above

  With a calm clearness on the earth his love.

  X

  By Ascalon they sailed, and forth drived,

  Toward the west their speedy course they frame,

  In sight of Gaza till the bark arrived,