Jerusalem Delivered

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Jerusalem Delivered Page 173

by Torquato Tasso


  Not fertile, moist with rivers, wells and streams;

  There grow few trees to make the summer’s shade,

  To shield the parched land from scorching beams,

  Save that a wood stands six miles from the town,’

  With aged cedars dark, and shadows brown.

  LVI.

  Inside, the town has cisterns to amass

  The falling rain, and living springs and pools

  Outside, the country round is bare of grass,

  Nor fount nor stream the barren region cools;

  Nor trees are seen in all the neighbourhood

  A screen ‘gainst summer’s heat to interpose,

  Save where, beyond six miles, a gloomy wood

  Horrent and dark its baleful shadow throws.

  LVII.

  Ha da quel lato donde il giorno appare,

  Del felice Giordan le nobil’onde.

  E dalla parte occidental del mare

  452 Mediterraneo le arenose sponde.

  Verso Borea è Betel, ch’alzò l’altare

  Al bue dell’oro, e la Samaria; e donde

  Austro portar le suol piovoso nembo,

  456 Betelem che ‘l gran parto ascose in grembo.

  LVII

  By east, among the dusty valleys, glide

  The silver streams of Jordan’s crystal flood;

  By west, the Midland Sea, with bounders tied

  Of sandy shores, where Joppa whilom stood;

  By north Samaria stands, and on that side

  The golden calf was reared in Bethel wood;

  Bethlem by south, where Christ incarnate was,

  A pearl in steel, a diamond set in brass.

  LVII.

  On that side whence the dawn’s first splendours rise,

  The blessed Jordan’s noble waters roll;

  And to the west the sandy seaboard lies

  Of the blue Mediterranean. Towards the pole

  Samaria lies, and pillared Bethel, where

  To the gold calf was raised the impious shrine;

  And where the south with vapour loads the air,

  Stands Bethlehem, hallowed by the birth Divine.

  LVIII.

  Or mentre guarda e l’alte mura e ‘l sito

  Della Città, Goffredo, e del paese;

  E pensa ove s’accampi, onde assalito

  460 Sia il muro ostil più facile all’offese;

  Erminia il vide, e dimostrollo a dito

  Al Re pagano, e così a dir riprese:

  Goffredo è quel che nel purpureo manto

  464 Ha di regio e d’augusto in se cotanto.

  LVIII

  While thus the Duke on every side descried

  The city’s strength, the walls and gates about,

  And saw where least the same was fortified,

  Where weakest seemed the walls to keep him out;

  Ermina as he armed rode, him spied,

  And thus bespake the heathen tyrant stout,

  “See Godfrey there, in purple clad and gold,

  His stately port, and princely look behold.

  LVIII.

  Now as Prince Godfred scanned the country round,

  The city’s site, the lofty walls, and thought

  Where for his army was best camping ground,

  And the easiest spot to storm the ramparts sought,

  Erminia saw, and to the tyrant spoke,

  Him clearly pointing with her finger: ‘There,

  That Godfred is, who in the purple cloak

  Has such a royal and majestic air.

  LIX.

  Veramente è costui nato all’impero,

  Sì del regnar, del comandar sa l’arti:

  E non minor che Duce è Cavaliero;

  468 Ma del doppio valor tutte ha le parti.

  Nè fra turba sì grande uom più guerriero,

  O più saggio di lui potrei mostrarti.

  Sol Raimondo in consiglio, ed in battaglia

  472 Sol Rinaldo e Tancredi a lui s’agguaglia.

  LIX

  “Well seems he born to be with honor crowned,

  So well the lore he knows of regiment,

  Peerless in fight, in counsel grave and sound,

  The double gift of glory excellent,

  Among these armies is no warrior found

  Graver in speech, bolder in tournament.

  Raymond pardie in counsel match him might;

  Tancred and young Rinaldo like in fight.”

  LIX.

  ‘He looks indeed one born to hold command,

  And as a ruler is without compeer,

  Of equal merit is his head and hand,

  As captain perfect and as cavalier;

  Nor ‘mid you host a more consummate knight

  Or sager counsellor than he is known.

  Rinaldo and Tancredi in the fight,

  In council, Raymond, equal him alone.’

  LX.

  Risponde il Re pagan: ben ho di lui

  Contezza, e ‘l vidi alla gran corte in Francia,

  Quand’io d’Egitto messaggier vi fui:

  476 E ‘l vidi in nobil giostra oprar la lancia.

  E sebben gli anni giovinetti sui

  Non gli vestian di piume ancor la guancia,

  Pur dava, ai detti all’opre alle sembianze,

  480 Presagio omai d’altissime speranze.

  LX

  To whom the king: “He likes me well therefore,

  I knew him whilom in the court of France

  When I from Egypt went ambassador,

  I saw him there break many a sturdy lance,

  And yet his chin no sign of manhood bore;

  His youth was forward, but with governance,

  His words, his actions, and his portance brave,

  Of future virtue, timely tokens gave.

  LX.

  ‘Him,’ the king answered, ‘I remember well,

  And once beheld at the great court of France

  When there as Egypt’s envoy, and can tell

  How nobly in the lists he bore his lance;

  And though lush spring had scattered not the seeds

  Of down upon his cheek, still in his mien,

  In his staid language and heroic deeds,

  Promise, e’en then, of loftiest hopes was seen.

  LXI.

  Presagio ahi troppo vero! e quì le ciglia

  Turbate inchina, e poi le innalza, e chiede:

  Dimmi chi sia colui c’ha pur vermiglia

  484 La sopravveste, e seco a par si vede.

  Oh quanto di sembianti a lui simiglia,

  Sebben alquanto di statura cede.

  È Baldovin, risponde, e ben si scopre

  488 Nel volto a lui fratel, ma più nell’opre.

  LXI

  “Presages, ah too true:” with that a space

  He sighed for grief, then said, “Fain would I know

  The man in red, with such a knightly grace,

  A worthy lord he seemeth by his show,

  How like to Godfrey looks he in the face,

  How like in person! but some-deal more low.”

  “Baldwin,” quoth she, “that noble baron hight,

  By birth his brother, and his match in might.

  LXI.

  ‘Promise, alas! too true.’ His troubled eyes

  Here he cast down; then raised them up and said,

  ‘Tell me who’s he that with him almost vies,

  And wears his surcoat, too, of royal red?

  Oh, what resemblance to the prince, though he

  Somewhat in stature to the captain cedes.’

  ‘That’s Baldwin: truly in his looks you see

  He’s brother, but much more so by his deeds.

  LXII.

  Or rimira colui, che quasi in modo

  D’uomo che consigli, sta dall’altro fianco:

  Quegli è Raimondo, il qual tanto ti lodo

  492 D’accorgimento, uom già canuto e bianco.

  Non è chi tesse
r me’ bellico frodo

  Di lui sapesse, o sia Latino o Franco.

  Ma quell’altro più in là, ch’orato ha l’elmo,

  496 Del Re Britanno è il buon figliuol Guglielmo.

  LXII

  “Next look on him that seems for counsel fit,

  Whose silver locks betray his store of days,

  Raymond he hight, a man of wondrous wit,

  Of Toulouse lord, his wisdom is his praise;

  What he forethinks doth, as he looks for, hit,

  His stratagems have good success always:

  With gilded helm beyond him rides the mild

  And good Prince William, England’s king’s dear child.

  LXII.

  ‘Now look at that stem cavalier who stays,

  As if adviser, on the captain’s right,

  That Raymond is, to whom I gave such praise

  For prudence, now from age’s silver white;

  To weave war’s stratagems none better knows,

  Or Frank or Latin. He still further on,

  With the gold casque upon his royal brows,

  Is William, the English king’s accomplished son.

  LXIII.

  V’è Guelfo seco, egli è d’opre leggiadre

  Emulo, e d’alto sangue, e d’alto stato.

  Ben il conosco alle sue spalle quadre,

  500 Ed a quel petto colmo e rilevato.

  Ma ‘l gran nemico mio tra queste squadre

  Già riveder non posso, e pur vi guato.

  Io dico Boemondo il micidiale,

  504 Distruggitor del sangue mio reale.

  LXIII

  “With him is Guelpho, as his noble mate,

  In birth, in acts, in arms alike the rest,

  I know him well, since I beheld him late,

  By his broad shoulders and his squared breast:

  But my proud foe that quite hath ruinate

  My high estate, and Antioch opprest,

  I see not, Boemond, that to death did bring

  Mine aged lord, my father, and my king.”

  LXIII.

  ‘Close by stands Guelpho, his competitor

  In birth, in station, and in deeds of fame;

  Well, well I know him by those shoulders square,

  And by the expansion of that bulky frame.

  But though amid you squadrons I have tried,

  As yet I cannot my arch-foeman trace;

  I mean Boëmondo — the red homicide —

  The fell destroyer of my royal race.’

  LXIV.

  Così parlavan questi; e ‘l Capitano,

  Poi ch’intorno ha mirato, ai suoi discende.

  E perchè crede che la Terra invano

  508 S’oppugneria, dove il più erto ascende;

  Contra la porta aquilonar, nel piano

  Che con lei si congiunge, alza le tende;

  E quinci procedendo, infra la torre

  512 Che chiamano Angolar, gli altri fa porre.

  LXIV

  Thus talked they; meanwhile Godfredo went

  Down to the troops that in the valley stayed,

  And for in vain he thought the labor spent,

  To assail those parts that to the mountains laid,

  Against the northern gate his force he bent,

  Gainst it he camped, gainst it his engines played;

  All felt the fury of his angry power,

  That from those gates lies to the corner tower.

  LXIV.

  Thus these conversed: but when the country round

  Godfred had scanned, he to his troops went down,

  And since he deemed where springs the steepest ground

  That it were useless to assault the town,

  He pitched his tents with true strategic skill

  ‘Gainst the north gate, upon the adjoining plain;

  Thence ranged the others, which extended till

  The so-called Angle Tower the long lines gain.(6)

  LXV.

  Da quel giro del campo è contenuto

  Della cittade il terzo, o poco meno:

  Chè d’ogni intorno non avria potuto

  516 (Cotanto ella volgea) cingerla appieno.

  Ma le vie tutte, ond’aver puote ajuto,

  Tenta Goffredo d’impedirle almeno:

  Ed occupar fa gli opportuni passi,

  520 Onde da lei si viene, ed a lei vassi.

  LXV

  The town’s third part was this, or little less,

  Fore which the duke his glorious ensigns spread,

  For so great compass had that forteress,

  That round it could not be environed

  With narrow siege — nor Babel’s king I guess

  That whilom took it, such an army led —

  But all the ways he kept, by which his foe

  Might to or from the city come or go.

  LXV.

  The camp embraced with its vast cirque of tents

  A third part of the town. For all around,

  So great Jerusalem’s circumference,

  They were not able wholly to surround.

  But still to bar the roads Prince Godfred tries,

  By which the foe might get external aid,

  And all the likely passes occupies

  That to and from the royal city led.

  LXVI.

  Impon che sian le tende indi munite

  E di fosse profonde, e di trinciere:

  Che d’una parte a cittadine uscite,

  524 Dall’altra oppone a correríe straniere.

  Ma poi che fur queste opere fornite,

  Voll’egli il corpo di Dudon vedere:

  E colà trasse, ove il buon Duce estinto

  528 Da mesta turba e lagrimosa è cinto.

  LXVI

  His care was next to cast the trenches deep,

  So to preserve his resting camp by night,

  Lest from the city while his soldiers sleep

  They might assail them with untimely flight.

  This done he went where lords and princes weep

  With dire complaints about the murdered knight,

  Where Dudon dead lay slaughtered on the ground.

  And all the soldiers sat lamenting round.

  LXVI.

  Then orders them to fortify the tents

  With pallisades and deep-cut trenches. So

  Alike the townsmen’s sallies he prevents,

  And checks incursions from marauding foe;

  But when the works accomplished were, his course

  (Wishing to see the slaughtered chief) he bends

  To where surrounded lay Dudoné’s corse

  By a sad concourse of lamenting friends.

  LXVII.

  Di nobil pompa i fidi amici ornaro

  Il gran feretro, ove sublime ei giace.

  Quando Goffredo entrò, le turbe alzaro

  532 La voce assai più flebile e loquace.

  Ma con volto nè torbido, nè chiaro

  Frena il suo affetto il pio Buglione, e tace.

  E poi che ‘n lui, pensando, alquanto fisse

  536 Le luci ebbe tenute, alfin sì disse.

  LXVII

  His wailing friends adorned the mournful bier

  With woful pomp, whereon his corpse they laid,

  And when they saw the Bulloigne prince draw near,

  All felt new grief, and each new sorrow made;

  But he, withouten show or change of cheer,

  His springing tears within their fountains stayed,

  His rueful looks upon the corpse he cast

  Awhile, and thus bespake the same at last;

  LXVII.

  With noble pomp they, faithful, had adorned

  The imposing coffin, where sublime he lay.

  When Godfred entered, the sad mourners mourned

  More sadly, and to greater grief gave way;

  But his own feelings pious Godfred reined.

  Not calm — and yet not troubled — was his look,

  In dee
p reflection silent he remained,

  As for awhile he gazed on him, then spoke:

  LXVIII.

  Già non si deve a te doglia nè pianto;

  Chè se muori nel mondo, in Ciel rinasci:

  E quì dove ti spogli il mortal manto,

  540 Di gloria impresse alte vestigia lasci.

  Vivesti qual guerrier Cristiano e santo;

  E come tal sei morto: or godi, e pasci

  In Dio gli occhj bramosi, o felice alma,

  544 Ed hai del ben oprar corona e palma.

  LXVIII

  “We need not mourn for thee, here laid to rest,

  Earth is thy bed, and not the grave the skies

  Are for thy soul the cradle and the nest,

  There live, for here thy glory never dies:

  For like a Christian knight and champion blest

  Thou didst both live and die: now feed thine eyes

  With thy Redeemer’s sight, where crowned with bliss

  Thy faith, zeal, merit, well-deserving is.

  LXVIII.

  ‘We should not weep for thee, lost friend, nor grieve,

  Who dead on earth, in heaven art born again;

  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.

  Vivi beata pur; chè nostra sorte,

  Non tua sventura a lagrimar n’invita:

  Posciach’al tuo partir sì degna e forte

  548 Parte di noi fa col tuo piè partita.

  Ma se questa, che ‘l volgo appella morte,

  Privati ha noi d’una terrena aita;

  Celeste aita ora impetrar ne puoi,

  552 Che ‘l Ciel t’accoglie infra gli eletti suoi.

  LXIX

  “Our loss, not thine, provokes these plaints and tears:

  For when we lost thee, then our ship her mast,

  Our chariot lost her wheels, their points our spears,

  The bird of conquest her chief feather cast:

  But though thy death far from our army hears

  Her chiefest earthly aid, in heaven yet placed

  Thou wilt procure its help Divine, so reaps

  He that sows godly sorrow, joy by heaps.

  LXIX.

  ‘Live blessed thou: it is our hapless fate,

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

 

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