Jerusalem Delivered

Home > Other > Jerusalem Delivered > Page 85
Jerusalem Delivered Page 85

by Torquato Tasso


  His changing cheek and colour seemed to rise,

  And catch its sacred hues while gazing there;

  Full of his God, and rapt with zeal sublime,

  To angel minds his spirit soared, whence he

  Unveiled the never-ending course of time,

  And pierced the secrets of futurity.

  LXXIV

  Then, bursting out in louder, loftier strain,

  Foretold events that would in time arise,

  While all, attracted by his look, remain

  Attentive to his thundered prophecies.

  ‘Rinaldo lives,’ he cried; ‘what else one hears

  Is lies and tricks of woman’s baleful will.

  He lives; his young and inexperienced years

  The Heavens reserve for greater glories still.

  LXXV

  ‘These boyish feats but indices supply

  Of what all Asia knows — his future fame;

  Lo! I see clearly that, as years roll by,

  He will the pride of impious monarchs tame,

  And ‘neath the shadow of her silver wing

  His eagle will protect the Church and Rome,

  Them from the oppressor’s claws delivering;

  And worthy children shall adorn his home,

  LXXVI

  ‘And children’s children, and their sons, who thence

  Will bright and notable example have;

  Who will, from Caesars’ unjust violence,

  The papal mitre and our temples save;

  To oppress the proud, the lowly to restore,

  The guilty punish, and defend the right,

  Will be their aim; thus past the sun will soar

  Haught Este’s eagle in her glorious flight

  LXXVII

  ‘And right it is, beholding truth and light,

  That she to Peter mortal thunder bring,

  And that, where’er in Jesu’s cause men fight,

  She spread in triumph her unconquered wing,

  Since, by predestined statute, Providence

  To her this innate virtue has decreed;

  And wills that she, now summoned back from whence

  She flew, to this great enterprise proceed.’

  LXXVIII

  With words like these the prudent Peter cheered

  Their hearts, with terror for Rinaldo fraught:

  Sole, ‘mid the general joy, the chief appeared

  Silent, immersed in deep and anxious thought

  Meanwhile the night in clouds of darkness rose,

  And o’er earth’s face her murky mantle spread;

  The rest retired to give their limbs repose,

  But from Prince Godfred’s eyes all sleep had fled.

  CANTO XI.

  I

  WHILE thus the captain of the Christian powers

  Urged them the warlike instruments to frame,

  He being resolved to storm the royal towers,

  The hermit Peter to his presence came,

  And drawing him aside, the sage began,

  In accents stem and with a solemn air:

  ‘Hosts of this world, O chief, thou leadest on,

  But that is not what first should claim thy care.

  II

  ‘Begin from Heaven, and first with penitence,

  In public worship and on bended knee,

  Invoke the saints’ and angels’ army, whence

  Alone thou mayest hope for victory.

  In sacred vestments let the priests precede,

  And anthems chaunt with suppliant voice, while ye,

  Great glorious leaders of the army, lead

  Their ranks to join those strains of piety.’

  III

  Thus the stem hermit did the captain chide,

  And Godfred deemed his admonition wise.

  ‘Servant beloved of Jesus,’ he replied,

  ‘Well pleased I am to follow thy advice.

  Now, while I invite the chiefs to come with me,

  Thou to the bishops of the host repair,

  William and holy Ademar, and be

  The sacred rites and pious pomp your care.’

  IV

  The reverend sage next mom assembled round

  With the high priests those of less station, where

  Within the camp, on consecrated ground,

  They used to glorify the Lord in prayer:

  The others in white surplices were dressed,

  The bishops gold-embroidered mantles wore,

  Which in twain parted, buttoned at the breast

  O’er snowy lawn; their heads proud mitres bore.

  V

  Peter walked first alone, and to the wind

  Displayed the sign in Paradise revered;

  With slow and solemn step the choir behind

  In two distinct extended lines appeared,

  And in alternate melody replied,

  With suppliant voice, with meek and lowly air;

  And closing up their ranks, went side by side,

  William and his companion Ademar.

  VI

  Then, as commanders do, the Bouillon passed

  Alone, without companion at his side;

  Next came the leaders two by two, and last

  The camp, with weapons of defence supplied:

  Proceeding thus the assembled host passed thro’

  And out the intrenchments; in the stilly air

  No warlike clangour rose, no bugles blew —

  The only sound was piety and prayer.

  VII

  Thee, Father, and Thy dear coequal Son;

  Thee who from both proceeding breath’st love’s fire;

  Thee, Virgin Mother of the God in man,

  They now invoke to favour their desire;

  And you that move Heaven’s fulgent Seraphim

  In trinal orbits; thee whose hands did lave

  The pure unstained humanity of Him

  Who knew no sin, in the life-giving wave;

  VIII

  They now invoke: Thee too, the solid Rock,

  Whereon Christ’s Church is built, whose lofty place

  A new successor fills, whose hands unlock

  The blessèd gates of pardon and of grace;

  And the other saint apostles that revealed

  The glorious tidings of triumphant Death;

  And those brave martyrs who the Truth had sealed

  With their own life-blood and their dying breath:

  IX

  Those, too, whose pious pens or precepts true

  Pointed Heaven’s path to all that from it erred;

  And her, Christ’s dear and faithful handmaid, who

  The noblest life’s felicity preferred;

  And virgins chaste in convent cell immured,

  Whom to Himself in wedlock God unites;

  And those who firmly tortures had endured,

  Despising crowns and the vain world’s delights.

  X

  Chanting such hymns, the pious populace,

  Winding along in ample ‘rcles, came

  Direct towards Olivet with solemn pace,

  Which from the olive tree derives its name;

  A Mount from sacred story wide-world known:

  It to the eastward of the wall doth rise,

  And parting it from the imperial town

  Jehoshaphat’s precipitous valley lies.

  XI

  Thither the tuneful army bends its way.

  And with its music the deep valley fills;

  To the high peaks the sounds are borne away,

  And Echo answers from a thousand hills.

  It seemed like sylvan choir that was concealed

  Among the trees, or from the caverns came;

  Such resonant reverberations pealed

  With Jesus’ now, and now with Mary’s name.

  XII

  Meanwhile the walls the astonished Pagans throng,

  And watch in silent wonder from their heights

&nb
sp; The slow-paced windings, the submissive song,

  And the strange splendour of the outlandish rites;

  But when the pageant’s novelty had ceased,

  Derisive yells the impious miscreants poured;

  And as their taunts and blasphemies increased,

  The torrent, mount, and spacious valley roared.

  XIII

  But not for that did Jesus’ flock refrain

  From their sweet melody and touching words;

  Nor did they heed them, nor more notice deign

  Than to so many flocks of chattering birds;

  Nor feared, though by far-darted shafts pursued,

  That such could check their harmony divine,

  But hoped they would be able to conclude

  The hymns begun with such devout design.

  XIV

  An altar, then, on the hill-top they raised,

  Where the Lord’s Supper by the priest was spread;

  On either side refulgent cressets blazed

  Of burnished gold suspended over head.

  William put on more costly vestments here;

  But first in silent meditation stays,

  Then lifting up his voice in accents clear,

  With self-arraignment and thanksgiving prays.

  XV

  Those near him listened with attentive ear;

  Those far, ’twas all they could, kept fixed their eyes;

  But when he had performed the rites austere

  Of the pure Lamb’s mysterious sacrifice,

  ‘Depart,’ he said, and, raising up his hands,

  With priestly unction the Crusaders blest;

  Then to the camp returned the pious bands

  By the same path that coming they had pressed.

  XVI

  The encampment entered and dismissed the ranks,

  Godfred at once to his pavilion went,

  Escorted by a dense array of Franks,

  Ev’n to the threshold of the imperial tent.

  Here he took leave of them, retaining none

  But the great chiefs to join his festive board;

  And in the honoured seat that faced his own,

  Placed with respect Toulouse’s aged lord.

  XVII

  But when their thirst and natural appetite

  For food was sated, Godfred added: ‘All

  Prepared must be, with the dawn’s earliest light,

  To carry by assault you rampired wall.

  As that will be a day of sweat and blows,

  So this to rest and preparation spare:

  Let each withdraw, then, and enjoy repose,

  And for the fight himself and troops prepare.’

  XVIII

  They then took leave, and, by the trumpet’s sound,

  The heralds straight the chiefs commands convey,

  That every soldier under arms be found,

  Marshalled and ready at the dawn of day.

  Thus they that morn gave partly to repose,

  And part to preparation and deep thought,

  Until calm Night, rest’s silent friend, arose,

  And a fresh respite to their labours brought

  XIX

  Still doubtful was the dawn, the birth of day

  But faintly in the Orient was discerned;

  No iron share cleaved yet the dewsprent clay,

  Nor had the shepherds to the fields returned;

  Still on the boughs slept safe each little bird;

  Free were the woods from hound or hunter’s cry;

  When, at the morning’s bugle call, was heard

  ‘To arms!’—’ to arms!’ re-echoed through the sky.

  XX

  ‘To arms!’ ‘to arms!’ Those joyous, welcome words

  Concordant thousands thunder as one man.

  Aroused, Prince Godfred rises up, nor girds

  His golden cuishes or great breastplate on,

  But now the arms of a foot soldier wore,

  Not stiff or hard, but lissome and most light;

  Their easy burden he already bore,

  When gallant Raymond joined the pious knight;

  XXI

  And seeing the captain armed in such a mode,

  His secret purpose instantly divined.

  ‘Where is,’ he cried, ‘thy corslet’s solid load?

  Why leave thine iron armature behind,

  And thus half armed go forth? I can’t approve

  That thou shouldst with such poor defence depart;

  To me, signor, these indications prove

  That bent on humble goal of fame thou art.

  XXII

  ‘What seekest thou, O prince? The simple prize

  Of him who scales a wall? This task impose

  On the less worthy crowd, whose duty ’tis,

  And let them their less useful lives expose.

  Resume thou, then, thy usual arms and post,

  And of thy body, for our sake, take care;

  Thy soul, the life and spirit of the host,

  For God’s sake guard, and from such risks forbear.’

  XXIII

  He ceased, and thus the gallant Godfred: ‘Know

  That when in Clermont, in my young career,

  On me this sword great Urban did bestow,

  And made me Christ’s devoted cavalier,

  I vowed to God in secret, that I would

  The part of captain not alone sustain,

  But would employ my valour, when I could,

  As simple soldier in this great campaign.

  XXIV

  ‘When I shall have, then, all my tactics formed,

  Against the foe the combat to renew,

  And fully have the offices performed

  That from commander of the host are due,

  Tis right that yonder I my course direct,

  And the vow made unto my God observe

  (Nor do I think to that thou canst object);

  Let Him then guard me, and my life preserve.’

  XXV

  He ceased. At once the cavaliers of France,

  And his two brothers, his example shared;

  And the other princely leaders, without lance,

  In lighter arms as foot-soldiers appeared.

  Meanwhile, the Pagans had ascended where

  The lofty ramparts, stretching towards the West,

  Confront the starry cluster of the Bear,

  That part being less protected than the rest.

  XXVI

  Elsewhere so strong, the city had not recked

  The slightest damage from the foe’s assault;

  But here not only did the king collect

  His regular soldiers, but, in their default,

  Had, as a last resource, assembled there

  The old, and those of ev’n the tenderest years;

  Who move about, and to the stronger bear

  Bitumen, sulphur, lime, darts, stones, and spears.

  XXVII

  With flashing arms, balistae, pikes, and bows

  Bristles the rampart that o’erlooks the plain;

  And there, in form of horrid giant, rose

  Breast high above it, mighty Solyman;

  Amid the merlons of the lofty wall

  Arganté towers, and is discerned afar;

  And in the angle turret, over all,

  Clorinda waits the coming shock of war.

  XXVIII

  A heavy load of piercing arrows, lo!

  And burnished quiver from her back depend;

  And, see! already she has seized the bow,

  The bolt affixes, and prepares to bend.

  Upon the passage of the advancing foe

  The lovely archer sets her eager eyes:

  Thus, Fancy deemed, upon the world below

  The Delian virgin arrowed from the skies.

  XXIX

  Beneath, on foot, the hoary monarch made

  His way from gate to gate; then, from the wall,

  Observe
d if all his orders were obeyed,

  And cheer and reassurance gave to all;

  Here reinforcements furnishes, and there

  Of arms and stores provides a fresh supply.

  Meanwhile, sad matrons to the mosques repair,

  To supplicate their impious deity:

  XXX

  ‘Do thou, O Lord, with just and powerful hand,

  Asunder rive the Frank marauder’s spear,

  And ‘neath these portals strow that blasphemous band

  Which desecrates the name that we revere.’

  Thus prayed, nor down there were their voices heard,

  ‘Mid Death’s eternal lamentations lost:

  Now, while the city prayed, and thus prepared,

  The pious Bouillon marshals out his host

  XXXI

  With extreme foresight and consummate art,

  He ranges forth his foot, and in two sides

  Obliquely formed, in echelon, that part

  Intended to assault the wall, divides.

  In the centre, the balistæ he unites

  With other horrid instruments of war,

  Whence stones and javelins towards the embattled heights,

  Like flashing thunderbolts, projected are.

  XXXII

  Behind the foot the heavy horse he posts,

  The light sends forward to patrol around;

  Then gives the sign of battle. ‘Mid the hosts

  The archers and the slingers so abound,

  And arms so numerous from their engines fly,

  That from the merlons the defenders fall;

  Some quit their posts, and some are seen to die;

  Thinned are already those that crowned the wall.

  XXXIII

  Then dashed the Franks impetuous o’er the field,

  And towards the ramparts with fresh vigour sped;

  And some had shield adapted upon shield,

  And with them made a covering for the head;

  Some crept beneath the mighty engines, which

  Afforded shelter from the stony rain,

  Then strove to fill, arriving at the ditch,

  Its void, and make it level with the plain.

  XXXIV

  Not of soft mud or water was the fosse,(I)

  For this the soil allowed not; whence with ease

  They filled it up, tho’ deep and broad across,

  With gabions, stones, and sods of turf, and trees.

  Meanwhile Alcasto was the first to show

  His daring head, and ‘gan the wall to scale,

  Raising a ladder, which he mounted, tho’

  Deluged by fiery rain and iron hail.

  XXXV

  The impetuous Switzer had already won

  Half the aerial path with matchless force,

  Butt for a thousand arrows, yet not one

  So injured him as to obstruct his course;

  When a huge mass of round and ponderous rock,

  Like shell from mortar, by Arganté thrown,

 

‹ Prev