Doth he place limit to my sufferings, so
His innate cruelty incites him on.
He’ll burn Arontè’s castle, unless he
Himself, with all in it surrendereth;
And not with war alone my friends and me
The monster threatens, but with pains and death.
LX.
Ciò dice egli di far, perchè dal volto
Così levarsi la vergogna crede;
E ritornar nel grado, ond’io l’ho tolto,
476 L’onor del sangue, e della regia sede.
Ma il timor n’è cagion, chè non ritolto
Gli sia lo scettro, ond’io son vera erede;
Chè sol, s’io caggio, por fermo sostegno,
480 Con le ruine mie, puote al suo regno.
LX
“And so he trusts to wash away the stain,
And hide his shameful fact with mine offence,
And saith he will restore the throne again
To his late honor and due excellence,
And therefore would I should be algates slain,
For while I live, his right is in suspense,
This is the cause my guiltless life is sought,
For on my ruin is his safety wrought.
LX.
‘This, as it were, his spotless front to free
From the disfigurement of my disgrace;
And to its dignity, debased by me,
Restore the honour of his throne and race.
But fear’s the cause, he dreading I should seize
My rightful sceptre; since my death alone,
Too well the profligate usurper sees,
Would on firm basis fix his tottering throne.
LXI.
E ben quel fine avrà l’empio desire,
Che già il Tiranno ha stabilito in mente;
E saran nel mio sangue estinte l’ire,
484 Che dal mio lagrimar non fiano spente,
Se tu nol vieti: a te rifuggo, o Sire,
Io misera fanciulla, orba, innocente:
E questo pianto, ond’ho i tuoi piedi aspersi,
488 Vagliami sì, che ‘l sangue io poi non versi.
LXI
“And let the tyrant have his heart’s desire,
Let him perform the cruelty he meant,
My guiltless blood must quench the ceaseless fire
On which my endless tears were bootless spent,
Unless thou help; to thee, renowned Sire,
I fly, a virgin, orphan, innocent,
And let these tears that on thy feet distil,
Redeem the drops of blood, he thirsts to spill.
LXI.
‘And that will be the end of his desire,
On which so bent the tyrant’s mind appears,
And quenched by my life’s blood will be his ire,
Which unextinguishable were by tears,
If thou prevent him not: thee I in treat,
Lorn, orphan, innocent — and may this flood
Of bitter tears with which I bathe thy feet,
Prevent the effusion of my guiltless blood.
LXII.
Per questi piedi, onde i superbi e gli empj
Calchi: per questa man che ‘l dritto aita:
Per l’alte tue vittorie, e per que’ tempj
492 Sacri, cui desti, e cui dar cerchi aita;
Il mio desir, tu che puoi solo, adempi;
E in un col regno a me serbi la vita
La tua pietà; ma pietà nulla giove,
496 S’anco te il dritto e la ragion non move.
LXII
“By these thy glorious feet, that tread secure
On necks of tyrants, by thy conquests brave,
By that right hand, and by those temples pure
Thou seek’st to free from Macon’s lore, I crave
Help for this sickness none but thou canst cure,
My life and kingdom let thy mercy save
From death and ruin: but in vain I prove thee,
If right, if truth, if justice cannot move thee.
LXII.
‘By these thy feet that trample the profane,
By this thy hand in cause of right arrayed,
By thy proud triumphs, by each sacred fane
Which thou hast aided, and still seek’st to aid:
Grant, for alone thou art able, my request;
In pity save my life and throne, Sir knight —
Still I for pity ask not, if thy breast
Remains unmoved by reason and by right.
LXIII.
Tu, cui concesse il Cielo, e dielti in fato
Voler il giusto, e poter ciò che vuoi;
A me salvar la vita, a te lo stato
500 (Chè tuo fia, s’io ‘l ricovro) acquistar puoi.
Fra numero sì grande a me sia dato
Dieci condur de’ tuoi più forti eroi:
Ch’avendo i padri amici, e ‘l popol fido,
504 Bastan questi a ripormi entro al mio nido.
LXIII
“Thou who dost all thou wishest, at thy will,
And never willest aught but what is right,
Preserve this guiltless blood they seek to spill;
Thine be my kingdom, save it with thy might:
Among these captains, lords, and knights of skill,
Appoint me ten, approved most in fight,
Who with assistance of my friends and kin,
May serve my kingdom lost again to win.
LXIII.
‘Thee whom Heaven destines and permits by fate
To will what’s just, and what thou will’st to do,
Preserve my life, and take thyself the state,
Which if recovered, will become thy due.
For my safe conduct, sire, I only sue
From out thy numerous paladins but ten;
They will, the elders friends, the people true,
Suffice to place me in my home again.
LXIV.
Anzi un de’ primi, alla cui fe commessa
È la custodia di secreta porta,
Promette aprirla, e nella reggia stessa
508 Porci di notte tempo; e sol m’esorta
Ch’io da te cerchi alcuna aita; e in essa,
Per picciola che sia, si riconforta
Più che s’altronde avesse un grande stuolo:
512 Tanto l’insegne estima, e ‘l nome solo!
LXIV
“For lo a knight, that had a gate to ward,
A man of chiefest trust about his king,
Hath promised so to beguile the guard
That me and mine he undertakes to bring
Safe, where the tyrant haply sleepeth hard
He counselled me to undertake this thing,
Of these some little succor to intreat,
Whose name alone accomplish can the feat.”
LXIV.
‘Nay one, the warder of the secret gate,
Has pledged his word, in justice to my right,
To unbar it; so that we may penetrate
To the king’s quarters in the dusk of night.
Alone he bade me gain thy aid: howe’er
Small, it would more assure him than if came
Whole hosts to his assistance from elsewhere,
So high he ranks thy flag, thy very name.’
LXV.
Ciò detto tace, e la risposta attende
Con atto che, in silenzio, ha voce e preghi.
Goffredo il dubbio cor volve e sospende
516 Fra pensier varj, e non sa dove il pieghi.
Teme i barbari inganni, e ben comprende
Che non è fede in uom ch’a Dio la neghi.
Ma d’altra parte in lui pietoso affetto
520 Si desta, che non dorme in nobil petto.
LXV
This said, his answer did the nymph attend,
Her looks, her sighs, her gestures all did pray him:
But Godfrey wisely did his grant suspend,
He d
oubts the worst, and that awhile did stay him,
He knows, who fears no God, he loves no friend,
He fears the heathen false would thus betray him:
But yet such ruth dwelt in his princely mind,
That gainst his wisdom, pity made him kind.
LXV.
This said, she ceased, awaiting his reply;
Her manner prayed, her very silence spoke.
In doubt to grant her suit or to deny,
Contending feelings Godfred’s bosom shook:
He feared barbarian wile, and deemed that those
Faithless to God, no faith for man possessed.
On the other hand, within him pity rose,
That never slumbers in magnanimous breast.
LXVI.
Nè pur l’usata sua pietà natía
Vuol che costei della sua grazia degni,
Ma il move utile ancor: ch’util gli fia
524 Che nell’imperio di Damasco regni
Chi, da lui dipendendo, apra la via
Ed agevoli il corso ai suoi disegni;
E genti, ed arme gli ministri, ed oro
528 Contra gli Egizj, e chi sarà con loro.
LXVI
Besides the kindness of his gentle thought,
Ready to comfort each distressed wight,
The maiden’s offer profit with it brought;
For if the Syrian kingdom were her right,
That won, the way were easy, which he sought,
To bring all Asia subject to his might:
There might he raise munition, arms and treasure
To work the Egyptian king and his displeasure.
LXVI.
Nor was it only upon pity’s plea
The captain-wished assistance she obtained:
The advantage swayed him, since ’twould useful be
That whosoever in Damascus reigned,
On him dependent, should their cause uphold,
And smooth the groundwork for their great emprise;
One that could furnish weapons, troops and gold,
To match the Egyptian host and its allies.
LXVII.
Mentre ei, così dubbioso, a terra volto
Lo sguardo tiene, e ‘l pensier volve e gira;
La donna in lui s’affissa, e dal suo volto
532 Intenta pende, e gli atti osserva e mira:
E perchè tarda, oltra ‘l suo creder, molto
La risposta, ne teme e ne sospira.
Quegli la chiesta grazia al fin negolle:
536 Ma diè risposta assai cortese e molle.
LXVII
Thus was his noble heart long time betwixt
Fear and remorse, not granting nor denying,
Upon his eyes the dame her lookings fixed,
As if her life and death lay on his saying,
Some tears she shed, with sighs and sobbings mixed,
As if her hopes were dead through his delaying;
At last her earnest suit the duke denayed,
But with sweet words thus would content the maid:
LXVII.
While thus perplexed, his eyes to earth he bent,
And turned and twisted every thought. The maid
Upon his face hung painfully intent,
Scanning the changes there; but since delayed
The important answer was beyond belief,
She feared refusal, and despairing sighed;
At length her prayer refused the pious chief,
But still in courteous, kindly words replied:
LXVIII.
Se in servigio di Dio, ch’a ciò n’elesse,
Non s’impiegasser quì le nostre spade,
Ben tua speme fondar potresti in esse,
540 E soccorso trovar, non che pietade:
Ma se queste sue gregge, e queste oppresse
Mura non torniam prima in libertade,
Giusto non è, con iscemar le genti,
544 Che di nostra vittoria il corso allenti.
LXVIII
“If not in service of our God we fought,
In meaner quarrel if this sword were shaken,
Well might thou gather in thy gentle thought,
So fair a princess should not be forsaken;
But since these armies, from the world’s end brought,
To free this sacred town have undertaken,
It were unfit we turned our strength away,
And victory, even in her coming, stay.
LXVIII.
‘Did Jesu’s service not demand our swords,
By Him selected for this great crusade,
They were unsheathed for thee; not pitying words,
But valiant deeds, had given thee knightly aid.
But till His people of their bonds are rid,
Till from its thrall Jerusalem we free,
Not right it were my forces to divide
And so retard the course of victory.
LXIX.
Ben ti prometto, e tu per nobil pegno
Mia fe ne prendi, e vivi in lei sicura;
Che se mai sottrarremo al giogo indegno
548 Queste sacre, e dal Ciel dilette mura;
Di ritornarti al tuo perduto regno,
Come pietà n’esorta, avrem poi cura.
Or mi farebbe la pietà men pio,
552 S’anzi il suo dritto io non rendessi a Dio.
LXIX
“I promise thee, and on my princely word
The burden of thy wish and hope repose,
That when this chosen temple of the Lord,
Her holy doors shall to his saints unclose
In rest and peace; then this victorious sword
Shall execute due vengeance on thy foes;
But if for pity of a worldly dame
I left this work, such pity were my shame.”
LXIX.
‘But this I vow (my word I proffer thee
As knightly pledge, on which securely rest):
If from their galling yoke we ever free
Those walls to Heaven so precious and so blessed,
Thee to restore, for gentle pity’s sake,
To that lost realm where first thy footsteps trod.
But pity now would me less pious make,
If first I rendered not His due to God.’
LXX.
A quel parlar chinò la donna, e fisse
Le luci a terra, e stette immota alquanto:
Poi sollevolle rugiadose, e disse,
556 Accompagnando i flebil’atti al pianto:
Misera! ed a qual’altra il Ciel prescrisse
Vita mai grave, ed immutabil tanto?
Chè si cangia in altrui mente e natura,
560 Pria che si cangi in me sorte sì dura.
LXX
At this the princess bent her eyes to ground,
And stood unmoved, though not unmarked, a space,
The secret bleeding of her inward wound
Shed heavenly dew upon her angel’s face,
“Poor wretch,” quoth she, “in tears and sorrows drowned,
Death be thy peace, the grave thy resting-place,
Since such thy hap, that lest thou mercy find
The gentlest heart on earth is proved unkind.
LXX.
As thus he spake, the maiden drooped her head,
And moveless stood, her eyes upon the ground;
Then raised them up, suffused with tears, and said
With pleading gesture and lament profound:
‘Ah wretched, wretched, to whom else did Heaven
A life so hard, so immutable allot,
That others change their bent, their nature even,
Ere changed is my perverse, unhappy lot?
LXXI.
Nulla speme più resta: invan mi doglio:
Non han più forza in uman petto i preghi.
Forse lece sperar che ‘l mio cordoglio,
564 Che te non mosse, il reo Tiranno pieghi?
Nè già te d’in
clemenza accusar voglio,
Perchè ‘l picciol soccorso a me si neghi;
Ma il Cielo accuso, onde il mio mal discende,
568 Che ‘n te pietade innesorabil rende.
LXXI
“Where none attends, what boots it to complain?
Men’s froward hearts are moved with women’s tears
As marble stones are pierced with drops of rain,
No plaints find passage through unwilling ears:
The tyrant, haply, would his wraith restrain
Heard he these prayers ruthless Godfrey hears,
Yet not thy fault is this, my chance, I see,
Hath made even pity, pitiless in thee.
LXXI.
‘In vain I grieve, and hopeless vainly spend
Prayers to which dead are human breasts; ah me!
How can I hope the tyrant’s will to bend
By these my sorrows, that are lost on thee?
Still not of harshness do I thee accuse
Because denying me this trifling aid,
’Tis Heaven I charge, whence all my ill accrues,
’Tis Heaven has thee inexorable made.
LXXII.
Non tu, Signor, nè tua bontade è tale;
Ma ‘l mio destino è che mi nega aita:
Crudo destino, empio destin fatale,
572 Uccidi omai questa odiosa vita.
L’avermi priva, oimè, fu picciol male
De’ dolci padri in loro età fiorita;
Se non mi vedi ancor, del regno priva,
576 Qual vittima al coltello andar cattiva.
LXXII
“So both thy goodness, and good hap, denayed me,
Grief, sorrow, mischief, care, hath overthrown me,
The star that ruled my birthday hath betrayed me,
My genius sees his charge, but dares not own me,
Of queen-like state, my flight hath disarrayed me,
My father died, ere he five years had known me,
My kingdom lost, and lastly resteth now,
Down with the tree sith broke is every bough.
LXXII.
‘Thou from all such malevolence art free,
But ’tis my destiny that aid denies,
Cruel, relentless, fatal destiny;
Ah, take this life, now hateful in mine eyes.
To have deprived me in their prime of life
Of my dear parents was a minor ill,
If thou didst not, as victim to the knife,
Robbed of my realm and captive see me still.
Jerusalem Delivered Page 179