She smiled and said, “Farewell, I die in peace.”
LXVIII
Yet died he not, for in that hour of strife
He summoned all his fortitude, the pain
He felt suppressing, while he gave new life
To her with water whom his sword had slain.
But while he spoke the sacred words, a ray
Of joy ecstatic lit Clorinda’s face;
Dying, she smiled, and, reborn, seemed to say,
‘Heaven opes its portals — I depart in peace.’
LXIX.
D’un bel pallore ha il bianco volto asperso,
Come a’ giglj sarian miste viole:
E gli occhj al Cielo affisa, e in lei converso
548 Sembra, per la pietate, il Cielo e ‘l Sole:
E la man nuda e fredda alzando verso
Il cavaliero, in vece di parole,
Gli dà pegno di pace: in questa forma
552 Passa la bella donna, e par che dorma.
LXIX
As violets blue mongst lilies pure men throw,
So paleness midst her native white begun;
Her looks to heaven she cast, their eyes I trow
Downward for pity bent both heaven and sun,
Her naked hand she gave the knight, in show
Of love and peace, her speech, alas, was done,
And thus the virgin fell on endless sleep, —
Love, Beauty, Virtue, for your darling weep!
LXIX
Her snowy face a lovely pallor wears;
Of lilies, blent with violets, such the hue;
Her eyes are fixed on heaven, and Heaven appears,
With tender ruth, the penitent to view.
Then, raising up her cold and ungloved arm,
She gave the knight her hand, as earnest deep
Of peace in lieu of words, and in that form
The maiden passed away, as if asleep.
LXX.
Come l’alma gentile uscita ei vede,
Rallenta quel vigor ch’avea raccolto:
E l’imperio di se libero cede
556 Al duol già fatto impetuoso e stolto,
Ch’al cor si stringe, e, chiusa in breve sede
La vita, empie di morte i sensi e ‘l volto.
Già simile all’estinto il vivo langue
560 Al colore, al silenzio, agli atti, al sangue.
LXX
But when he saw her gentle soul was went,
His manly courage to relent began,
Grief, sorrow, anguish, sadness, discontent,
Free empire got and lordship on the man,
His life within his heart they close up pent,
Death through his senses and his visage ran:
Like his dead lady, dead seemed Tancred good,
In paleness, stillness, wounds and streams of blood.
LXX
But, seeing her pure and gentle soul depart,
He, with it, lost the strength he had attained,
And yielded up dominion of his heart
To sorrow passionate and unrestrained.
It froze his life’s blood, and a deathlike shade
O’er his wan face and flickering spirit threw:
The living languishes most like the dead,
In blood, in silence, attitude, and hue.
LXXI.
E ben la vita sua, sdegnosa e schiva
Spezzando a forza il suo ritegno frale,
La bella anima sciolta alfin seguiva,
564 Che poco innanzi a lei spiegava l’ale;
Ma quivi stuol de’ Franchi a caso arriva,
Cui trae bisogno d’acqua, o d’altro tale;
E con la donna il cavalier ne porta,
568 In se mal vivo, e morto in lei ch’è morta.
LXXI
And his weak sprite, to be unbodied
From fleshly prison free that ceaseless strived,
Had followed her fair soul but lately fled
Had not a Christian squadron there arrived,
To seek fresh water thither haply led,
And found the princess dead, and him deprived
Of signs of life; yet did the knight remain
On live, nigh dead, for her himself had slain.
LXXI
And sure his life, in that despairing mood,
Bursting its frail defence’s fragile thread,
Had her emancipated soul pursued,
That just before its deathless wings had spread;
But that, by chance, a troop of Franks arrived,
Whom water, or such want, had thither led:
They took the maid and warrior, who survived
Scarce in himself, and who in her was dead.
LXXII.
Perocchè ‘l Duce loro ancor discosto
Conosce all’arme il principe Cristiano.
Onde v’accorre, e poi ravvisa tosto
572 La vaga estinta, e duolsi al caso strano.
E già lasciar non vuole ai lupi esposto
Il bel corpo che stima ancor Pagano.
Ma sovra l’altrui braccia ambi gli pone,
576 E ne vien di Tancredi al padiglione.
LXXII
Their guide far off the prince knew by his shield,
And thither hasted full of grief and fear,
Her dead, him seeming so, he there beheld,
And for that strange mishap shed many a tear;
He would not leave the corpses fair in field
For food to wolves, though she a Pagan were,
But in their arms the soldiers both uphent,
And both lamenting brought to Tancred’s tent.
LXXII
Their chief, tho’ distant, by his armour, knew
The Christian prince, and thither straightway went:
He recognised the lifeless beauty too,
And mourned the strange, unhappy accident;
Yet would not leave to savage wolves a prey
(Tho’ Pagan deeming it) her lovely corse,
But both their bodies made his men convey,
And to Tancredi’s quarters bent his course.
LXXIII.
Affatto ancor nel piano e lento moto
Non si risente il cavalier ferito:
Pur fievolmente geme, e quinci è noto
580 Che ‘l suo corso vital non è finito.
Ma l’altro corpo tacito ed immoto
Dimostra ben che n’è lo spirto uscito.
Così portati e l’uno e l’altro appresso,
584 Ma in differente stanza alfine è messo.
LXXIII
With those dear burdens to their camp they pass,
Yet would not that dead seeming knight awake,
At last he deeply groaned, which token was
His feeble soul had not her flight yet take:
The other lay a still and heavy mass,
Her spirit had that earthen cage forsake;
Thus were they brought, and thus they placed were
In sundry rooms, yet both adjoining near.
LXXIII
Nor was the slow and easy motion felt
By the unconscious wounded cavalier,
Whose moans declared that life within still dwelt;
That death had not yet ended his career:
But the other voiceless, moveless mass of clay,
Too clearly proved the vital spark had fled;
Thus near but in two separate chambers they
Were placed, the half-living warrior and the dead.
LXXIV.
I pietosi scudier già sono intorno
Con varj ufizj al cavalier giacente:
E già sen riede ai languidi occhj il giorno,
588 E le mediche mani e i detti ei sente.
Ma pur dubbiosa ancor del suo ritorno
Non s’assicura attonita la mente.
Stupido intorno ei guarda, e i servi e ‘l loco
592 Alfin conosce; e dice afflitto e fioco:
LXXIV
>
All skill and art his careful servants used
To life again their dying lord to bring,
At last his eyes unclosed, with tears suffused,
He felt their hands and heard their whispering,
But how he thither came long time he mused,
His mind astonished was with everything;
He gazed about, his squires in fine he knew,
Then weak and woful thus his plaints out threw:
LXXIV
Engaged on varied duties round the knight,
A crowd of sympathising esquires stands,
When lo! returns to his faint eyes the light,
He hears the voices, feels the soothing hands;
But still his mind, bewildered by the past,
Of his return not certain, hung in doubt;
Stupid he stared, and recognised at last
The squires, the room, then feebly faltered out;
LXXV.
Io vivo? io spiro ancora? e gli odiosi
Rai miro ancor di questo infausto die?
Dì testimon de’ miei misfatti ascosi,
596 Che rimprovera a me le colpe mie.
Ahi man timida e lenta, or che non osi,
Tu che sai tutte del ferir le vie,
Tu ministra di morte empia ed infame,
600 Di questa vita rea troncar lo stame?
LXXV
“What, live I yet? and do I breathe and see
Of this accursed day the hateful light?
This spiteful ray which still upbraideth me
With that accursed deed I did this night,
Ah, coward hand, afraid why should’st thou be;
Thou instrument of death, shame and despite,
Why should’st thou fear, with sharp and trenchant knife,
To cut the thread of this blood-guilty life?
LXXV
‘Do I then breathe and live? Still see the beams,
The odious beams of this disastrous day?
That, witness of my dark misdoing, seems
Against me by its presence to inveigh.
Ah, timid, tardy hand! why now not dare,
Thou, so adept in all the ways of strife?
Foul minister of death! why now forbear
To cut the thread of this my guilty life?
LXXVI.
Passa pur questo petto, e fieri scempj
Col ferro tuo crudel fà del mio core.
Ma forse, usata a’ fatti atroci ed empj,
604 Stimi pietà dar morte al mio dolore.
Dunque i’ vivrò tra memorandi esempj
Misero mostro d’infelice amore:
Misero mostro, a cui sol pena è degna
608 Dell’immensa empietà la vita indegna.
LXXVI
“Pierce through this bosom, and my cruel heart
In pieces cleave, break every string and vein;
But thou to slaughters vile which used art,
Think’st it were pity so to ease my pain:
Of luckless love therefore in torments’ smart
A sad example must I still remain,
A woful monster of unhappy love,
Who still must live, lest death his comfort prove:
LXXVI
‘Pierce, pierce this breast; and with thy cruel sword
Complete the torture of thy martyred chief;
Perhaps tho’ used to actions so abhorred,
Thou’dst deem it mercy thus to end my grief;
Then as a dread example I’ll remain,
The wretched monster of unhappy love —
A wretched monster, worthy of the pain
That life itself will for the future prove.
LXXVII.
Vivrò fra i miei tormenti, e fra le cure
Mie giuste furie, forsennato errante.
Paventerò l’ombre solinghe e scure
612 Che ‘l primo error mi recheranno innante;
E del Sol, che scoprì le mie sventure,
A schivo ed in orrore avrò il sembiante.
Temerò me medesmo, e da me stesso
616 Sempre fuggendo, avrò me sempre appresso.
LXXVII
“Still must I live in anguish, grief, and care;
Furies my guilty conscience that torment,
The ugly shades, dark night, and troubled air
In grisly forms her slaughter still present,
Madness and death about my bed repair,
Hell gapeth wide to swallow up this tent;
Swift from myself I run, myself I fear,
Yet still my hell within myself I bear.
LXXVII
‘My life I’ll pass ‘mid torments and ‘mid care;
Just Furies, they will my sad steps pursue;
The dark and lonely shadows I shall fear,
Since they will ever bring my crime in view;
And the sun’s face with hate and horror seeing,
I shall avoid as some reproachful elf;
Fearing myself, and from myself aye fleeing,
I still shall aye be haunted by myself.
LXXVIII.
Ma dove (oh lasso me!) dove restaro
Le reliquie del corpo e bello e casto?
Ciò ch’in lui sano i miei furor lasciaro,
620 Dal furor delle fere è forse guasto.
Ahi troppo nobil preda! ahi dolce e caro
Troppo, e pur troppo prezioso pasto!
Ahi sfortunato! in cui l’ombre e le selve
624 Irritaron me prima, e poi le belve.
LXXVIII
“But where, alas, where be those relics sweet,
Wherein dwelt late all love, all joy, all good?
My fury left them cast in open street,
Some beast hath torn her flesh and licked her blood,
Ah noble prey! for savage beast unmeet,
Ah sweet! too sweet, and far too precious food,
Ah, seely nymph! whom night and darksome shade
To beasts, and me, far worse than beasts, betrayed.
LXXVIII
‘But where — woe, woe is me! — ah, where remain
The relics of that form so chaste, so fair?
All that my fury left entire, has been,
It may be, mangled by wild wolf or bear.
Ah, prey too noble! (ah, unfortunate maid! )
Ah, far too sweet — ah, far too precious feast!
‘Gainst whom the darkness and the wood arrayed
My fatal falchion and the ravening beast
LXXIX.
Io pur verrò là dove sete, e voi
Meco avrò, s’anco sete, amate spoglie.
Ma s’egli avvien che i vaghi membri suoi
628 Stati sian cibo di ferine voglie;
Vuò che la bocca stessa anco me ingoi,
E ‘l ventre chiuda me che lor raccoglie.
Onorata per me tomba e felice,
632 Ovunque sia, s’esser con lor mi lice.
LXXIX
“But where you be, if still you be, I wend
To gather up those relics dear at least,
But if some beast hath from the hills descend,
And on her tender bowels made his feast,
Let that fell monster me in pieces rend,
And deep entomb me in his hollow chest:
For where she buried is, there shall I have
A stately tomb, a rich and costly grave.”
LXXIX
‘But I will fly to where ye are, if ye
Exist on earth, dear, darling relics, still;
But should it hap on your fair limbs (ah me! )
Wild beast has glutted his bloodthirsty will,
The self-same jaws that swallowed, the same tomb
That them engulphed, my sepulchre shall be.
Ah, doubly honoured and most welcome doom,
That will unite me, tho’ in death, with thee!’
LXXX.
Così parla quel misero; e gli è detto
Ch’ivi quel corpo avean
per cui si duole.
Rischiarar parve il tenebroso aspetto,
636 Qual le nubi un balen che passi e vole:
E da i riposi sollevò del letto
L’inferma delle membra e tarda mole:
E traendo a gran pena il fianco lasso,
640 Colà rivolse, vacillando, il passo.
LXXX
Thus mourned the knight, his squires him told at last,
They had her there for whom those tears he shed;
A beam of comfort his dim eyes outcast,
Like lightning through thick clouds of darkness spread,
The heavy burden of his limbs in haste,
With mickle pain, he drew forth of his bed,
And scant of strength to stand, to move or go,
Thither he staggered, reeling to and fro.
LXXX
Thus spoke the wretched knight, but when he hears
That in his tent her precious body lies,
His gloomy aspect in a moment clears,
Like cloud o’er which a flash of lightning flies.
Then raising up his limbs’ enfeebled weight
From off the couch where they supported lay,
Scarce able to move, with vacillating gait,
Thither the silent mourner bends his way.
LXXXI.
Ma come giunse, e vide in quel bel seno,
Opera di sua man, l’empia ferita:
E quasi un Ciel notturno anco sereno,
644 Senza splendor la faccia scolorita;
Tremò così che ne cadea, se meno
Era vicina la fedele aita.
Poi disse: o viso, che puoi far la morte
648 Dolce; ma raddolcir non puoi mia sorte;
LXXXI
When he came there, and in her breast espied
His handiwork, that deep and cruel wound,
And her sweet face with leaden paleness dyed,
Where beauty late spread forth her beams around,
He trembled so, that nere his squires beside
To hold him up, he had sunk down to ground,
And said, “O face in death still sweet and fair!
Thou canst not sweeten yet my grief and care:
LXXXI
But when he came, and saw in that fair breast
The ghastly wound his murderous hand had given,
And that no lustre her wan face possessed,
Like a nocturnal tho’ unclouded heaven,
He trembled so that he had fallen, if aid
Had been at greater distance from the spot.
‘Ah face, that canst ev’n sweeten death,’ he said,
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