Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  E’en here, where thou thy mortal veil dost leave,

  Deep traces of thy glory still remain.

  As Christian soldier thou hast lived and died;

  Go then, rejoice, and feed thy longing eyes,

  O happy soul, on God; who will provide

  For thy good deeds on earth, his heavenly prize.

  LXIX.

  ‘Live blessed thou: it is our hapless fate,

  Not thy ill-fortune, that draws forth our tears,

  Since in thy exit to a happier state,

  A very host of warriors disappears.

  But if what’s commonly called Death, thee slain,

  Deprive our forces of terrestrial aid,

  Thou canst for us celestial aid obtain,

  Since one of God’s elected angels made.

  LXX.

  ‘And as we have seen that mortal arm of thine

  In our behalf wield mortal weapons, even

  So let us hope to see thee, shade divine,

  Employ for us the immortal arms of heaven.

  Hear and receive then the requests that we

  Now make, and grant us thy all-powerful aid.

  Procure our triumph, and our vows to thee,

  We victors, at the Temple shall be paid.’

  LXXI.

  Thus spake; already the last sunbeams were

  By night’s Cimmerian shadows overspread;

  And by oblivion of all carking care,

  Were tears and lamentations respited.

  But the anxious chief, who deemed he ne’er could storm

  Without some battering-rams the frowning keep,

  Thinks where to find the beams, and in what form

  Make the machines, and gets but little sleep;

  LXXII.

  And with the sun rose up, since he proposed

  Following the corse to its last resting-place.

  Of cypress was Dudoné’s tomb composed,

  Near the stockades and at a mountain’s base,

  And overshadowing it a lofty palm,

  Its spreading boughs, the type of honour, flung.

  Here laid he was, and here with many a psalm,

  The priests a requiem to his spirit sung.

  LXXIII.

  And here and there among its branches were

  The various arms, his captive spoil, displayed,

  In happier battles won by him — whilère

  In Persian wars and Palestine crusade.

  The trunk they covered in most martial guise

  With his great corslet, and to note their loss

  Beneath was written, ‘Here Dudoné lies:

  Honour the noblest champion of the Cross,’

  LXXIV.

  But when the prince had left the ceremony,

  So sad and sacred, for the imperial tent,

  All the camp’s workmen to the forest he

  With a strong escort of picked soldiers sent.

  It to the Franks a Syrian herd did show:

  It lies concealed ‘mid valleys deep and dense;

  Thither to hew the great machines they go,

  ‘Gainst which the town can make but poor defence.

  LXXV.

  With cheering cries they on each other call

  To fell the trees, nor spare the wood’s repose.

  The mountain ash and sacred palm tree fall

  Beneath the fury of their trenchant blows;

  Funereal cypress, the green-oak and pine,

  The umbrageous holm-oak, lofty fir and beech,

  The married elm, to which the fragile vine

  Clings for support and fain the heavens would reach.

  LXXVI.

  Some strike the yews, others the lordly oaks

  That have a thousand times their leaves renewed,

  And noiseless stood against the thousand shocks

  Of winter’s blast, repelled them and subdued.

  Of odorous ash and cedar some prepared

  On creaking wheels the perfumed load to rest,

  By crash of axe and other noises scared,

  Beasts leave their den, and frightened birds their nest.

  CANTO IV.

  I.

  WHILE thus the Franks their warlike engines made,

  To have them ready for their high emprise,

  Man’s mighty foe from Acheron’s gloomy shade,

  Against the Christians turned his livid eyes;

  And seeing them on their pious work intent,

  Bit both his lips, with rankling fury stung;

  While like a wounded bull his rage found vent

  In bellowing roars that through Gehenna rung.

  II.

  Then having turned his every thought to bring

  Upon the Christians ruin most complete,

  His legions are commanded by their king

  (Terrific council!) round his throne to meet,

  As though a light emprise — insensate!— ‘twere

  The Heavenly Will’s fixed purpose to withstand.

  Fool! that would try to equal God, or dare

  Forget the thunders of his angered hand!

  III.

  The Stygian trump’s discordant jangling blast

  Through hell’s eteme obscurity resounded;

  Shook the black caverns of the dreary vast,

  And from its din the lightless air rebounded.

  Such crashing peals Heaven never thundered forth,

  When mortals threatening with its fiery doom;

  With greater violence ne’er quaked the earth,

  Compressing vapours in her pregnant womb.

  IV.

  Straightway the gods of hell in several swarms

  Rushed to the lofty gates from all around.

  Oh, what strange shapes they had — what horrid forms!

  What dread — what death in their gaunt eyeballs frowned!

  With cloven foot some print the burning soil,

  Whose human heads contorted snakes entwined;

  And like a scourge in many a sinuous coil,

  Voluminous tails the hybrids drag behind.

  V.

  Here countless filthy Harpies you might mark;

  Centaurs by thousands; Sphinxes, Gorgons pale;

  Voracious Scyllas without number bark;

  Huge Pythons hiss, and hideous Hydras wail.

  Dark lurid flames misshaped Chimæras pour;

  Here Polyphemus stalks, there Geryon;

  And monsters strange ne’er seen or known before,

  With looks diverse, confused, and blent in one.

  VI.

  Some on the left side; others of the band

  Stood on the right, hell’s ruthless king before;

  I’ the centre sat grim Pluto, his right hand

  A ponderous mace, the sovran emblem, bore.

  No sea-girt rock, no cliff with head so reared,

  Not Calpé, no, nor Atlas, but had now,

  Compared with him, a little mound appeared,

  So towered aloft his mighty horns and brow.

  VII.

  Horrific majesty increased the dread

  Of his fierce look, and did its pride enhance;

  His eyes, infect with poison, were blood-red;

  Like baleful comet shone his murderous glance;

  Matted and thick fell down his grisly beard,

  And o’er his breast in tangled masses flowed;

  Like a deep gulf his cavern-jaws appeared,

  Beslubbered over with black, clotted blood.

  VIII.

  Like Mongibello’s suffocating smoke,

  Like to its stench and thunder you’d compare;

  The fetid blasts, that in dense volumes broke

  From his foul throat; alike the sparkles were.

  While speaking, Cerberus his bark allayed;

  Mute was the Hydra at its lord’s harangue;

  The abysses shook — his course Cocytus stayed,

  As through all hell his thundering accents ra
ng.

  IX.

  ‘Tartarean gods! more worthy far are ye

  Above the sun, where ye were born, to sit,

  Whom the great Fall hurled headlong down with me

  From happier regions to this gloomy pit

  Other’s old passions and suspicions are

  But too well known, not less our great emprise.

  Alas! how changed. His will now rules each star,

  And we are deemed but rebels in His eyes.

  X.

  ‘And in the place of day’s unclouded bliss,

  Of circling stars, and the sun’s golden fire,

  Here He has mewed us, in this dark abyss,

  Nor wills that we to our first rank aspire.

  Then (ah, how hard its memory is to bear!

  This is what doth the sharpest sting convey)

  He summoned man His blest abode to share,

  Man! abject man! vile earth-born child of clay!

  XI.

  ‘Nor did that seem enough. His Son accurst

  He made Death’s prey, to aggravate our loss,

  Who came, and through hell’s fiery portals burst,

  And with bold foot our threshold dared to cross;

  And thence dragged souls that were by right our share,

  And our rich prey replaced in heaven’s retreat;

  And in despite of us, in triumph there

  Displayed the flags that told of hell’s defeat.

  XII.

  ‘But why my grief by idle words renew?

  Who of our wrongs is ignorant, and where

  Or when did He desist to injure you,

  Or from His wonted stratagems forbear?

  Remembrance of the past we should not wake,

  When every thought our present sufferings claim;

  For see ye not how He attempts to make

  All lands bow down in homage to His name?

  XIII.

  ‘Shall we then waste in sloth the days and hours,

  And in cold-blooded apathy remain?

  What! let in Asia these accursed Giaours,

  His faithful flock, still further laurels gain,

  Extend His honour, and exalt His praise?

  Subject Judea, and His name make known?

  Sound it in other tongues, in other lays,

  On bronzes write it, and incise in stone?

  XIV.

  ‘What! see our cherished idols overthrown,

  And to His service our loved altars turned?

  To Him suspended vows — to Him alone

  Offered up gold, and myrrh, and incense burned?

  And where ‘gainst us no temple closed its door,

  Shall none now open to our arts remain?

  Shall souls, once ours, rich tribute pay no more,

  And in a desert kingdom Pluto reign?

  XV.

  ‘No, no, it shall not be, since that fierce zeal

  That fired of yore our spirits is not lost,

  With which, when girt with lambent flame and steel,

  We boldly fought against the heavenly host.

  Worsted by them we were, I can’t deny;

  Still valour nobly our great scheme sustained,

  And though they then obtained the victory,

  With us the glory of the attempt remained.

  XVI.

  ‘But why detain you, faithful comrades, more?

  Away, my strength; my peerless force, away!

  Go, crush these wicked fanatics, before

  Still further stablished is their crescent sway.

  And ere the kingdom of Judea burn,

  Quench the fierce flames it threatening to consume;

  Among them enter, and adopt in turn

  Now force, now fraud, to speed their final doom.

  XVII.

  ‘Let what I will be Fate. Let some remove

  Far from the camp; let some be slain, the while

  That others, sunk in wanton cares of love,

  Their idols make of a sweet glance and smile.

  Against their rulers turn the traitorous steel

  Of a divided and rebellious race;

  Let the camp perish, nor one stone reveal

  Of its once whereabouts the slightest trace.

  XVIII.

  To wait, those rebel spirits did not deign

  Till brought were his instructions to an end;

  But flying forth to see the stars again,

  From the dark realms of endless night ascend,

  Like raging storms resounding from afar,

  When bursting from the caverns of their birth,

  To cloud heaven’s azure face, and carry war

  O’er the vast regions of the sea and earth.

  XIX.

  With vans expanded, through the various parts

  Of the wide world they spread themselves, and straight

  Began to use their old infernal arts,

  And new and diverse frauds to fabricate;

  But say, O Muse! how first with loss they smote

  The Christian forces, and from whence it came.

  Thou know’st it; but of deeds so far remote

  Has scarcely reached us the faint breath of fame.

  XX.

  Prince Idraotes, a famed wizard, reigned

  O’er proud Damascus and the cities near;

  He from his early youth had knowledge gained

  Of magic, and now prized it more than e’er.

  But what availed it, could he not the end

  Of the great conflict, doubtful still, foretell?

  Nor from the fixed or wandering stars portend

  The truth, nor yet from oracles of hell?

  XXI.

  He judged (ah, poor, short-sighted mind of man,

  How vain, how warped the judgments of thy breast!)

  That Heaven did ruin and destruction plan

  Against the unconquered army of the West;

  But deeming in the end the Egyptians would

  The laurels of the enterprise obtain,

  He wished his people in the victory should

  As well the profit as the glory gain.

  XXII.

  Still fearing that the war might bloody be,

  And to himself result in certain loss,

  He ‘gan to think by what contrivance he

  Might shake the nascent influence of the Cross,

  So that the Egyptians with his troops combined

  With greater ease the Franks might triumph o’er.

  His evil genius came while in this mind

  He was, and spurred and egged him on still more.

  XXIII.

  He counselled him, and ministered the ways

  That would the labour of the emprise decrease.

  A maid, to whom all Asia gave the praise

  Of greatest beauty, was the wizard’s niece.

  The frauds most skilful and the arts most fine

  Of witch and woman she completely knew:

  Whence her he called, imparted his design,

  Which he entreated her to carry through.

  XXIV.

  ‘Darling,’ he said,’who ‘neath those locks of gold,

  And ‘neath an aspect of such gentleness,

  Conceal’st a head so wise, a heart so bold,

  And dost myself in my own art surpass,

  Great schemes I meditate. Success will crown

  Our warmest hopes, if in them thoult engage;

  Weave then the web whose textile threads I have spun.

  And dauntless execute the plans of age.

  XXV.

  ‘Go to the hostile camp, and there employ

  Each art of woman that to love allures.

  Go, bathed in tears; with sweets thy prayers alloy;

  With deep-drawn sighs confound thy overtures.

  Let beauty, weeping and forlorn, not fail

  To bend unyielding age and wilful youth;

  Excessive boldness with coy blushes veil,

&n
bsp; And let thy falsehood wear the mask of truth.

  XXVI.

  ‘Take, if thou canst, Prince Godfred with the bait

  Of thy sweet glances and refined address;

  So that, enthralled by love, he terminate

  The war begun, and further strife repress.

  If that can’t be, the other chieftains lure;

  Coax them away, by thy soft ways trepann’d,

  Ne’er to return.’ Then gave details mature;

  Adding: ‘All’s lawful for our faith and land.’

  XXVII.

  The fair Armida, of her beauty proud,

  And of the gifts her sex and youth imparts,

  Accepts the charge, and beneath twilights shroud,

  By the most lone and secret paths, departs;

  And, with her woman’s robe and flowing hair,

  Hopes to o’ercome an armed unconquered race;

  While of her flight a thousand rumours are

  On purpose spread and scattered through the place.

  XXVIII.

  Few days elapsed ere reached the damsel where

  Stood ranged in order the Crusaders’ tents.

  At the appearance of such beauty rare

  A buzz arose; all gazed in rapt suspense,

  As if in heaven, in the broad light of day,

  Resplendent shone a comet or a star;

  And round her flocked the Christians to survey

  And learn the errand of the pilgrim fair.

  XXIX.

  Not Argos, Delos, nor did Cyprus e’er

  Such model see of beauty or of mien;

  Wimpled in snowy gauze, her golden hair

  Now flashes through, now all exposed is seen:

  So when the skies clear up, erst veiled in haze,

  Through fleecy clouds the sun transparent shines,

  Now bursting forth, still brighter beams displays,

  And in redoubled light the day enshrines.

  XXX.

  Through her loose tresses, waved by Nature, steals

  (Crisping fresh curls therein) the sportive air;

  Her glance, concentred in itself, conceals

  Love’s treasure and its own with miser care.

  In her fair cheek the damask of the rose

  With ivory’s white diffuses and combines;

  But her sweet lips — whence air, love-breathing, blows —

  The simple rose unmixed encamadines.

  XXXI.

  Her beauteous bosom flaunts its naked snows,

  Whence is awaked and fed Love’s ardent fire;

  Her breasts in part their budding charms disclose,

  In part are hidden by her envious tire.

  Envious! But if to sight it bars approach,

  It cannot check the amorous thoughts, which, not

  Content with mere external form, encroach

  And penetrate to the most secret spot.

  XXXII.

  And as through water or clear glass a ray