Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  An answer brief that told the whole event

  Amazed she heard it, and at once believed

  That each of them alike was innocent;

  And having purposed to avert their fate,

  Far as her arms could force or prayers persuade,

  Rushed forward, and with haste precipitate

  Removed the flames, and to the attendants said:

  XLV

  I Let none of you that Aladine obey

  Dare further in this hateful service stir

  Until I speak with him; for this delay,

  Rest well assured, no blame you will incur.’

  The’ officers obeyed the maiden’s threat,

  Awed by her princely and commanding air:

  Then towards the king she hastened. Him she met

  As he advanced to greet and honour her.

  XLVI

  II — am Clorinda,’ she exclaimed. ‘Perchance

  To thee, O king, my name is not unknown.

  Here have I come to guard with sword and lance

  Our common faith, and thy imperilled crown.

  Some task impose: ‘gainst every toil I am steeled,

  Nor fear the great, nor yet disdain the small,

  Wilt thou I serve thee in the open field,

  Or in the limits of the rampired wall.’

  XLVII

  She ceased, and thus the king: ‘O maiden rare,

  What land from Asia’s so removed, what zone

  So distant lies from the sun’s cycle, where

  Thy fame has not arrived, thy glory flown?

  If now thy sabre be with mine conjoined,

  All fear departs and brighter prospects ope;

  Not if united armies had combined,

  For my deliverance had I surer hope.

  XLVIII

  ‘Now, then, Prince Godfrey, it appears to me,

  Delays his march too long; and dost thou ask

  Employment for thy arm? None’s worthy thee

  But the most difficult and daring task.

  I give thee rule over all grades, all ranks;

  And that shall be the law thou dost ordain.’

  Thus spake, and she returned him courteous thanks

  For his eulogium, and resumed again:

  XLIX

  ‘Tho’ it for certain were great novelty

  That recompense should services precede,

  Still I feel sure thou’lt grant this pair to me,

  For future services as present meed.

  Nay, if there’s any doubt of their offence,

  Most harsh the law to inflict such punishment;

  This I pass over, and the evidence

  From which I judge they both are innocent;

  L

  ‘And will but add that the opinion here

  Is that the Christians did the image take,

  In this from you I differ, nor appear

  Without good cause this utterance to make;

  That was irreverence of our laws which ye,

  Urged by Ismeno, deemed had power to save:

  Since in our temples ’twas not fitting we

  Should idols, least of all another’s, have.

  LI

  ‘Wherefore I rather think the Prophet might

  Have wrought this miracle to demonstrate

  That his immaculate temples ’twas not right

  With new religion to contaminate.

  Let then Ismeno weave his mystic rites,

  He to whom witchcraft stands in place of arms:

  But let us draw the sword like gallant knights,

  These be our hopes, our arts, our magic charms.’

  LII

  She ceased. The king, although his iron breast

  But seldom bent or was by pity swayed,

  Yet fain would yield assent to her request

  Her reasons move him, and her prayers persuade:

  ‘Let this be grace or justice which I give,

  To such a pleader I can nought deny;

  Guiltless I free them, guilty I forgive.

  Let them have life,’ he said, ‘and liberty.’

  LIII

  Thus were they loosed. Olindo’s fate how blest

  By such an act his earnestness to prove!

  Since in her generous sympathetic breast

  Love had at length awakened mutual love.

  Erst lover, now beloved, the criminal goes

  From pyre to marriage, while the blushing bride

  Won by his sacrifice no shyness shows

  To live with him who for her sake had died.

  LIV

  But the suspicious king would not consent

  To have them near, in whom such virtues shine;

  Whence, as he willed, both into exile went,

  Beyond the boundaries of Palestine;

  And following up his most inhuman plan,

  Some of the Faithful banished, some confined.

  Ah, with what heavy hearts they heard his ban,

  And left their sons, their sires, their wives behind!

  LV

  Cruel division! He drove out alone

  Those of strong minds, and those robust in limb;

  But the soft sex, and those not fully grown,

  In pledge retained as hostages with him.

  Many turned rovers, rebels some; his threat

  Made anger triumph o’er their terror. Thus

  They joined the Christian army, which they met

  The day on which it entered Emmaus.

  LVI

  A city Emmaus is, that a short way

  From royal Salem separates, and one

  Who journeys slowly for his pleasure may,

  By starting early, Salem reach at noon.

  Oh, how this hearing doth the Christians cheer!

  Oh, how their zeal it quickens and foments!

  But since the sun was fast declining, here

  The captain orders them to pitch their tents.

  LVII

  They were already pitched, and the sun’s light

  Was not far distant from the ocean’s breast,

  When, lo! two mighty barons loomed in sight,

  Of foreign port, and in strange costume dressed;

  Their every act and peaceful bearing showed,

  They came as friends, perhaps some news to bring;

  Escorted by a numerous train they rode,

  And were the envoys of the Egyptian king.

  LVIII

  Alethes one, who from most low estate,

  Ev’n from the refuse of the people sprung,

  Had reached the highest honours of the state,

  By subtle, eloquent, obsequious tongue.

  In manner pliant, versatile in wit,

  Prompt to dissemble, to deception used;

  Slanders he forged, but still so apposite,

  That when they seemed to praise, they most accused.

  LIX

  Arganté, from Circassia, the other. He

  To Egypt came a stranger, and was made

  One of the satraps of the monarchy,

  And in the army reached the highest grade.

  Intolerant, inexorable, fierce,

  In arms unmatched, unwearied; he adored

  No god, but scorned, and was to all averse,

  Owning no law, no reason, but his sword.

  LX

  They craved an audience, and admitted were

  To Godfrey’s presence. That illustrious knight

  They found reposing on a lowly chair

  Among his dukes, in simple garb bedight

  But real worth, though carelessly arrayed,

  Is to itself its own bright ornament

  Small sign of honour him Arganté paid,

  Like one too grand and too indifferent.

  LXI

  But on his breast Alethes placed his hand,

  Bowed down his head, and bent on earth his eyes,

  And, in the fashion of his native land,

 
His deep respect and reverence testifies.

  He then began, and from his lips outsprung

  In honeyed streams of eloquence a flood;

  And as the Franks had learned the Syrian tongue,

  That which he said was fully understood.

  LXII

  ‘O worthy only thou, that this famed band

  Of heroes deign obedience unto thee;

  Who through thy counsel and thy powerful hand,

  Have kingdoms gained in many a victory;

  Ev’n that which scorned Alcides’ bounds, thy name,

  Has to our distant territory sped,

  And in all parts of Egypt’s realm has Fame

  Most brilliant tidings of thy valour spread.

  LXIII

  ‘Nor ‘mid so many of us is there one

  Hears it, but as he greatest wonders might;

  But my king hears thy exploits not alone

  With deep amazement, but extreme delight;

  Well pleased he is thy prowess to record,

  Praising in thee what were to others cause

  Of envious fear; and of his own accord

  A league now seeks of love, if not of laws.

  LXIV

  ‘ — Urged then by such praiseworthy motives, he

  Demandeth peace and friendship on thy side,

  And if faith cannot, then let valour be

  The means by which ye may become allied.

  But having heard that thou hadst armed, to drive

  From his dominions Aladine, his friend,

  He wished, ere further evils should arrive,

  His mind to thee through us, his envoys, send.

  LXV

  ‘ — His mind is this: That thou contented rest

  With what thou hast gained already in the war;

  Nor Judah, nor the other parts molest,

  That by his sovran grace protected are:

  He, on the other hand, will guarantee

  Thy own not firm position: if ye two

  Should in alliance thus united be,

  What can the Turk or Persian hope to do?

  LXVI

  ‘Important things in a short space thou hast done,

  Which time can never in oblivion hide;

  Razed rampired cities, famous battles won,

  Surmounted hardships, unknown tracks defied.

  So that or frightened or confounded, sire,

  At the mere news, those far and near remain;

  And though thou mayst new provinces acquire,

  To acquire fresh glory thou must hope in vain.

  LXVII

  ‘Thy fame has reached its zenith, and ‘twere right

  That thou henceforth all dubious wars forswore;

  If conqueror, conquest would increase thy might,

  But could not, sire, increase thy glory more:

  But should reverses happen, thou wouldst lose

  Honour, to mention not each captured state;

  And he is mad at Fortune’s game who throws

  Sure stakes ‘gainst doubtful, against small ones great

  LXVIII

  ‘But the advice of one who, perhaps, grieves

  That others keep for long what they have gained,

  In each emprise to have won fresh laurel leaves,

  And that innate desire which is ingrained,

  And glows most strongly in the strongest core,

  To have kings subjected, provinces o’errun,

  Will make thee peace avoid, it may be, more

  Than others would war’s deadliest perils shun.

  LXIX

  ‘Thee such will urge to follow to its close

  That path now largely opened by the Fates,

  And ne’er that celebrated sword depose,

  Upon whose valour certain victory waits,

  Until a desert Asia’s made by thee,

  And Mahmoud’s crescent sinks before the Cross.

  Delusions sweet: still, pleasant though they be,

  They often end in most disastrous loss.

  LXX

  ‘But should blind passion not obscure thine eyes,

  And cause the light of Truth to disappear,

  Thou’lt find in any future enterprise

  No cause at all for hope, but much for fear;

  Since Fortune changes — clouded now, now bright —

  Varying by turns; and they who madly soar

  In too ambitious and too high a flight,

  Are apt to haste their ruinous downfall more.

  LXXI

  ‘To move ‘gainst thee if Egypt once begun,

  Powerful in council, arms, and riches; or

  Should it e’er happen that Cassano’s son,

  With Turks and Persians leagued, renewed the war;

  What force against their fury canst thou bring,

  Or where asylum for thyself provide?

  Thou trust’st perhaps the wicked Grecian king,

  Who is to thee by sacred bonds allied?

  LXXII

  ‘But who in Grecian faith would credence place?

  From one sole treachery thou may’st gather all;

  Nay, from a thousand: since that faithless race

  A thousand schemes has plotted for thy fall.

  Think’st thou that he for thee will risk his life —

  He who with arms thy host’s advance withstood?

  Will he who barred the roads — which ere the strife

  Were free to all — present thee with his blood?

  LXXIII

  ‘ — But all thy hopes thou hast, it may be, set

  On these brave squadrons that environ thee,

  And think’st perhaps o’er foes combined to get,

  As when detached, as easy victory,

  Although thy ranks much thinned and weakened are

  By hardships and by fighting, as thou know’st;

  Though a new foe has swoln the tide of war,

  And Egypt joined the Turk and Persian host

  LXXIV

  ‘ — Still granting that it be thy destiny

  Ne’er to be conquered by the hostile sword;

  And granting too that such is Heaven’s decree

  As thou presumest it, — still, mighty lord,

  Famine will conquer thee: against that ill

  What refuge, what protection wilt thou find?

  ‘Gainst her gaunt form thy broad sword wave, and still

  Thy eager hopes with fancied victory blind.

  LXXV

  ‘But know, the provident inhabitants

  With sword and fire have laid the country waste,

  And many days before thy host’s advance

  In walls impregnable the harvest placed.

  Whence, then, dost hope thy horse and foot to feed,

  Thou who hast never to this hour repined?

  Thou’lt say, our ships will give us help in need;

  Depends then thy subsistence on the wind?

  LXXVI

  ‘Perhaps thy fortune may the winds command,

  And at thy pleasure rouse or keep them still?

  The sea, though deaf to others’ prayers, trapanned

  By Godfrey’s voice, may bow to Godfrey’s will?

  Cannot our ships, then, on the ocean meet,

  And with the Persians and the Turks combine,

  And form in one so powerful a fleet

  As well may match that armament of thine?

  LXXVII

  ‘Thoult need, O prince! a double victory,

  Success in this emprise to consummate;

  One sole disaster would occasion thee

  Disgrace profound, and losses still more great:

  Since, should our fleet a signal victory gain,

  And rout thine own, thy camp would famished be;

  And should’st thou lose on land, thy ships in vain, —

  In vain would ride triumphant o’er the sea’

  LXXVIII

  ‘Now if in such condition you refuser />
  Peace and alliance with our sovran lord

  (Pardon the truth), but thy mistaken views

  Ill with thy other excellence accord.

  But would to Heaven thou would’st thy sabre sheathe,

  And change thy mind, that all may changèd be;

  That Asia may, her troubles over, breathe,

  And thou enjoy the fruits of victory.

  LXXIX

  ‘And ye, who in each strange vicissitude

  Of fame and peril his companions are, —

  Let not the smiles of Fortune so delude

  As to induce you to provoke fresh war;

  But like the sailors, who from treacherous gales

  Bring back their vessels to the welcome shore,

  Ye should collect your widely scattered sails,

  Nor tempt the dangers of the ocean more.’

  LXXX

  Here ceased Alethes, and those valiant knights

  Followed with muttered murmuring his speech,

  And by their scornful attitudes and slights

  Showed how his overtures offended each.

  Thrice — aye, four times — the captain turned his eye,

  To see how his bold dukes the message took;

  Then upon him who waited his reply

  Fixed his full glance, and thus unruffled spoke:

  LXXXI

  ‘Thou hast delivered in most sweet-toned phrase

  A message — friendly now, now menacing:

  If thy liege love me, and my actions praise,

  Pleased I accept the approval of the king;

  But to that part where thou denouncest war

  To us from Pagandom’s united swords,

  I will reply as wont, ambassador,

  Clothing frank sentiments in simple words.

  LXXXII

  ‘Know that so much we have till now endured

  By land and sea, in light and darkness all —

  But that we might have our great end assured,

  And win our way to Salem’s sacred wall,

  And thus in God’s rewards participate,

  His flock releasing from the oppressor’s hand;

  Nor do we deem it hard, for end so great

  To risk our worldly honour, life, and land.

  LXXXIII

  ‘Since no ambitious or unworthy love

  Did us to this great enterprise impel;

  May from our breasts the God of heaven remove

  A plague so foul, if such in any dwell,

  Nor suffer that it moisten or infect

  Us with its poison, which, in pleasing, kills;

  But ’tis His hand which gently doth correct

  Hard hearts, and in them tenderness instills.

  LXXXIV

  ‘This has impelled us, this has led us here;

  Relieved us from all danger and delay;

  This makes floods dry, this mountains disappear;

  Takes summer’s heat and winter’s frost away;

  Holds fast or loosens this the blustering squads;

  Appeases this the billows of the main;