This said, the day to sable night was turned,
That scant one could another’s arms descry,
But soon an hundred lamps and torches burned,
That cleared all the earth and all the sky;
The castle seemed a stage with lights adorned,
On which men play some pompous tragedy;
Within a terrace sat on high the queen,
And heard, and saw, and kept herself unseen.
XXXVI.
Thus spoke the Pagan, and since light of day
Was so obscured that one could scarcely see,
Such numerous lamps blazed forth around, that they
The air illumined with great brilliancy;
The castle shone as on the stage appears
Amid nocturnal pomp the glowing scene,
And from a lofty part Armida hears,
And sees, while she remains herself unseen.
XXXVII.
Il magnanimo eroe frattanto appresta
Alla fera tenzon l’arme e l’ardire:
Nè sul debil cavallo assiso resta,
292 Già veggendo il nemico a piè venire.
Vien chiuso nello scudo, e l’elmo ha in testa,
La spada nuda, e in atto è di ferire.
Gli move incontra il Principe feroce
296 Con occhi torvi, e con terribil voce.
XXXVII
The noble baron whet his courage hot,
And busked him boldly to the dreadful fight;
Upon his horse long while he tarried not,
Because on foot he saw the Pagan knight,
Who underneath his trusty shield was got,
His sword was drawn, closed was his helmet bright,
Gainst whom the prince marched on a stately pace,
Wrath in his voice, rage in his eyes and face.
XXXVII.
Meanwhile prepared the noble cavalier
His arms and courage for the angry fight,
And vaulted off his feeble distrier,
His foeman seeing on foot. In act to smite
Rambaldo came, unsheathed his falchion shone,
And clad he was in armature entire.
To meet him dashed irate Tancredi on,
With voice of thunder, and with eyes of fire.
XXXVIII.
Quegli con larghe rote aggira i passi
Stretto nell’armi, e colpi accenna e finge.
Questi, sebben ha i membri infermi e lassi,
300 Va risoluto, e gli s’appressa, e stringe:
E là donde Rambaldo addietro fassi,
Velocissimamente egli si spinge:
E s’avanza, e l’incalza, e fulminando
304 Spesso alla vista gli dirizza il brando.
XXXVIII
His foe, his furious charge not well abiding,
Traversed his ground, and stated here and there,
But he, though faint and weary both with riding,
Yet followed fast and still oppressed him near,
And on what side he felt Rambaldo sliding,
On that his forces most employed were;
Now at his helm, not at his hauberk bright,
He thundered blows, now at his face and sight.
XXXVIII.
That locked in armour, moved in circles wide,
And fenced and feigned and simulated blows;
This though his limbs were faint and weary, tried
To approach and with his treacherous foeman close,
And still continued, as he still drew back,
To follow on in hot and eager chase,
And thundering, forcing, pressing the attack,
His sword oft drove at the apostate’s face;
XXXIX.
E più ch’altrove, impetuoso fere
Ove più di vital formò natura,
Alle percosse le minacce altere
308 Accompagnando, e ‘l danno alla paura.
Di qua, di là si volge, e sue leggiere
Membra il presto Guascone ai colpi fura:
E cerca or con lo scudo, or con la spada,
312 Che ‘l nemico furore indarno cada.
XXXIX
Against those members battery chief he maketh,
Wherein man’s life keeps chiefest residence;
At his proud threats the Gascoign warrior quaketh,
And uncouth fear appalled every sense,
To nimble shifts the knight himself betaketh,
And skippeth here and there for his defence:
Now with his rage, now with his trusty blade,
Against his blows he good resistance made.
XXXIX.
But more than elsewhere struck impetuously
Where Nature has the parts most vital set;
Aye aggravating fear by injury,
And blows by many an imperious threat
Here, there, his lissome limbs upon the field
The nimble Gascon turned, to avoid each blow,
Seeking with sword or with uplifted shield
To ward the strokes of his infuriate foe.
XL.
Ma veloce allo schermo ei non è tanto,
Che più l’altro non sia pronto alle offese.
Già spezzato lo scudo, e l’elmo infranto,
316 E forato e sanguigno avea l’arnese:
E colpo alcun de’ suoi, che tanto o quanto
Impiagasse il nemico, anco non scese:
E teme, e gli rimorde insieme il core
320 Sdegno, vergogna, conscienza, amore.
XL
Yet no such quickness for defence he used,
As did the prince to work him harm and scathe;
His shield was cleft in twain, his helmet bruised,
And in his blood his other arms did bathe;
On him he heaped blows, with thrusts confused,
And more or less each stroke annoyed him hath;
He feared, and in his troubled bosom strove
Remorse of conscience, shame, disdain and love.
XL.
But he was not so ready in defence,
As was the other active to assail;
Cleft is his shield, his helmet all in rents,
Transfixed and bloody his bright coat of mail,
Nor did a blow from his false arm descend,
That did not its inefficacy prove.
He shakes with fear, as in his heart contend
Despite, remorse, shame-consciousness and love.
XLI.
Disponsi alfin con disperata guerra
Far prova omai dell’ultima fortuna.
Gitta lo scudo, ed a due mani afferra
324 La spada ch’è di sangue ancor digiuna:
E col nemico suo si stringe e serra,
E cala un colpo, e non v’è piastra alcuna
Che gli resista sì, che grave angoscia
328 Non dia piagando alla sinistra coscia.
XLI
At last so careless foul despair him made,
He meant to prove his fortune ill or good,
His shield cast down, he took his helpless blade
In both his hands, which yet had drawn no blood,
And with such force upon the prince he laid,
That neither plate nor mail the blow withstood,
The wicked steel seized deep in his right side,
And with his streaming blood his bases dyed:
XLI.
With desperate courage he resolved at last
His desperate fortunes on a die to set;
He flung his buckler from him, and griped fast
With both his hands his sword, unblooded yet,
Then darted in and grappled with his foe,
And struck; nor was there any armour could
Resist the power of that tremendous blow:
It maimed his thigh, whence spurted streams of blood.
XLII.
E poi su l’ampia fronte il ripercuote,
Sicchè ‘l picchio rimbomba in suon di squil
la:
L’elmo non fende già, ma lui ben scuote,
332 Talch’egli si rannicchia, e ne vacilla.
Infiamma d’ira il Principe le gote,
E negli occhj di foco arde e sfavilla:
E fuor della visiera escono ardenti
336 Gli sguardi, e insieme lo stridor de’ denti.
XLII
Another stroke he lent him on the brow,
So great that loudly rung the sounding steel;
Yet pierced he not the helmet with the blow,
Although the owner twice or thrice did reel.
The prince, whose looks disdainful anger show,
Now meant to use his puissance every deal,
He shaked his head and crashed his teeth for ire,
His lips breathed wrath, eyes sparkled shining fire.
XLII.
Then struck again; resounding like a bell,
Rang the fierce stroke upon his ample brow,
Nor cleft his casque, tho’ with such force it fell,
That he recoiled and staggered from the blow;
The prince’s cheeks became inflamed with ire,
With wrathful lightning his red eye-balls flashed;
Forth from his visor darted looks of fire,
And his clenched teeth with maddened fury gnashed.
XLIII.
Il perfido Pagan già non sostiene
La vista pur di sì feroce aspetto.
Sente fischiare il ferro, e tra le vene
340 Già gli sembra d’averlo, e in mezzo al petto.
Fugge dal colpo, e ‘l colpo a cader viene
Dove un pilastro è contra il ponte eretto.
Ne van le schegge e le scintille al cielo,
344 E passa al cor del traditore un gelo.
XLIII
The Pagan wretch no longer could sustain
The dreadful terror of his fierce aspect,
Against the threatened blow he saw right plain
No tempered armor could his life protect,
He leapt aside, the stroke fell down in vain,
Against a pillar near a bridge erect.
Thence flaming fire and thousand sparks outstart,
And kill with fear the coward Pagan’s heart.
XLIII.
The perjured Pagan could not long sustain
The terror his ferocious looks expressed;
He hears the whistling steel — thro’ every vein
It seemed to penetrate his inmost breast
The stroke he shims, which on a pillar falls,
That of the flying drawbridge formed a part,
Whence sparks and splinters fly to heaven, and crawls
An icy shudder thro’ the traitor’s heart.
XLIV.
Onde al ponte rifugge, e sol nel corso
Della salute sua pone ogni speme.
Ma il seguita Tancredi, e già sul dorso
348 La man gli stende, e ‘l piè col piè gli preme;
Quando ecco (al fuggitivo alto soccorso)
Sparir le faci, ed ogni stella insieme:
Nè rimaner all’orba notte alcuna,
352 Sotto povero ciel, luce di Luna.
XLIV
Toward the bridge the fearful Paynim fled,
And in swift flight, his hope of life reposed;
Himself fast after Lord Tancredi sped,
And now in equal pace almost they closed,
When all the burning lamps extinguished
The shining fort his goodly splendor losed,
And all those stars on heaven’s blue face that shone
With Cynthia’s self, dispeared were and gone.
XLIV.
Back to the bridge he flies, in flight alone
His only prospect of escape reposing.
Tancred pursues, and lays his hand upon
The craven’s back, as foot with foot is closing
When lo! (great succour for the fugitive)
The stars and torches disappear on high,
Nor in the night now lustreless survive
Ev’n the moon’s beams to light the barren sky.
XLV.
Fra l’ombre della notte e degl’incanti
Il vincitor nol segue più, nel vede:
Nè può cosa vedersi a lato, o innanti,
356 E muove dubbio e mal sicuro il piede.
Sul limitar d’un uscio i passi erranti
A caso mette, nè d’entrar s’avvede;
Ma sente poi che suona a lui diretro
360 La porta, e ‘n loco il serra oscuro e tetro.
XLV
Amid those witchcrafts and that ugly shade,
No further could the prince pursue the chase,
Nothing he saw, yet forward still he made,
With doubtful steps, and ill assured pace;
At last his foot upon a threshold trad,
And ere he wist, he entered had the place;
With ghastly noise the door-leaves shut behind,
And closed him fast in prison dark and blind.
XLV.
Lost amid witchcraft and the shades of night,
The victor persevered not in pursuit;
Around — before — there was no gleam of light,
And he groped on with doubtful, cautious foot;
Then stepped upon the threshold, undesigned,
Nor knew he had passed the entrance, until he
Heard the portcullis crashing down behind,
And found himself in dark captivity.
XLVI.
Come il pesce colà dove impaluda
Ne’ seni di Comacchio il nostro mare,
Fugge dall’onda impetuosa e cruda,
364 Cercando in placide acque ove ripare:
E vien che da se stesso ei si rinchiuda
In palustre prigion, nè può tornare;
Chè quel serraglio è con mirabil uso
368 Sempre all’entrar aperto, all’uscir chiuso.
XLVI
As in our seas in the Commachian Bay,
A silly fish, with streams enclosed, striveth,
To shun the fury and avoid the sway
Wherewith the current in that whirlpool driveth,
Yet seeketh all in vain, but finds no way
Out of that watery prison, where she diveth:
For with such force there be the tides in brought,
There entereth all that will, thence issueth naught:
XLVI.
As fishes rush where in Comacchio’s creek
A marshy inlet the Adriatic forms,
To escape the ocean’s ruthless waves, and seek
In those still waters refuge from its storms, —
It haps that they are by themselves shut in,
Nor from their fenny prison-house can dart,
Since that unique enclosure, like a gin,
Admits all comers, but lets none depart.
XLVII.
Così Tancredi allor, qual che si fosse
Dell’estrania prigion l’ordigno e l’arte,
Entrò per se medesmo, e ritrovosse
372 Poi là rinchiuso, ond’uom per se non parte.
Ben con robusta man la porta scosse,
Ma fur le sue fatiche indarno sparte;
E voce intanto udì che, indarno, grida,
376 Uscir procuri, o prigionier d’Armida.
XLVII
This prison so entrapped that valiant knight;
Of which the gate was framed by subtle train,
To close without the help of human wight,
So sure none could undo the leaves again;
Against the doors he bended all his might,
But all his forces were employed in vain,
At last a voice gan to him loudly call,
“Yield thee,” quoth it, “thou art Armida’s thrall.”
XLVII.
Tancredi so, whate’er the springs that bound
The wondrous prison, of machine and art,
Entered with ease, but
to his horror found
That, though he wished, he could not thence depart.
He shook the gate with all his might and main,
But were his labours scattered to the wind.
Meanwhile a voice exclaimed, ‘Thou striv’st in vain,
Armida’s captive can no exit find.
XLVIII.
Quì menerai (non temer già di morte)
Nel sepolcro de’ vivi i giorni, e gli anni.
Non risponde, ma preme il Guerrier forte
380 Nel cor profondo i gemiti e gli affanni:
E fra se stesso accusa amor, la sorte,
La sua schiocchezza e gli altrui feri inganni:
E talor dice, in tacite parole,
384 Leve perdita fia perdere il Sole.
XLVIII
“Within this dungeon buried shalt thou spend
The res’due of thy woful days and years;”
The champion list not more with words contend,
But in his heart kept close his griefs and fears,
He blamed love, chance gan he reprehend,
And gainst enchantment huge complaints he rears.
“It were small loss,” softly he thus begun,
“To lose the brightness of the shining sun;
XLVIII.
‘Here thou wilt pass (of death there is no fear)
Within a living tomb thy future days.’
No answer deigned the haughty cavalier,
Nor the deep anguish of his heart betrays;
But inwardly accuses love and fate,
His own improvidence and others’ snare,
And mournfully began to meditate:
‘To lose the sun’s bright beams I little care;
XLIX.
Ma di più vago Sol più dolce vista
Misero i’ perdo, e non so già se mai
In loco tornerò che l’alma trista
388 Si rassereni agli amorosi rai.
Poi gli sovvien d’Argante, e più s’attrista:
E troppo, dice, al mio dover mancai:
Ed è ragion ch’ei mi disprezzi e scherna.
392 O mia gran colpa, o mia vergogna eterna!
XLIX
“But I, alas, the golden beam forego
Of my far brighter sun; nor can I say
If these poor eyes shall e’er be blessed so,
As once again to view that shining ray:”
Then thought he on his proud Circassian foe,
And said, “Ah! how shall I perform that fray?
He, and the world with him, will Tancred blame,
This is my grief, my fault, mine endless shame.”
Jerusalem Delivered Page 200