Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  Clotharius his band, and Ademare’s,

  And all whose guides in dust were buried low,

  Discharged of duty’s chains and bondage snares,

  Free from their oath, to none they service owe,

  But now concluded all on secret flight,

  And shrunk away by thousands every night.

  LXIX

  Contagious was the precedent, and far

  As daylight showed, the rank infection spread.

  Those whom Clotharius had, and Ademar,

  And the other chiefs, now bones and ashes, led,

  Now that the Power, which all dissolves, had freed

  Them from their sworn allegiance, talk of flight;

  Nay some, the more adventurous, succeed

  In flying under cover of the night.

  LXX.

  Ben se l’ode Goffredo, e ben se ‘l vede:

  E i più aspri rimedj avria ben pronti;

  Ma gli schiva ed abborre: e con la fede

  556 Che faria stare i fiumi, e gir i monti,

  Devotamente al Re del mondo chiede

  Che gli apra omai della sua grazia i fonti;

  Giunge le palme, e fiammeggianti in zelo

  560 Gli occhj rivolge e le parole al Cielo.

  LXX

  Godfredo this both heard, and saw, and knew,

  Yet nould with death them chastise though he mought,

  But with that faith wherewith he could renew

  The steadfast hills and seas dry up to naught

  He prayed the Lord upon his flock to rue,

  To ope the springs of grace and ease this drought,

  Out of his looks shone zeal, devotion, faith,

  His hands and eyes to heaven he heaves, and saith:

  LXX

  These facts were heard and noted by the chief,

  Who by harsh measures could have all repressed:

  But these he abhorred; and, with that firm belief

  Which can make mountains move and rivers rest,

  To God raised up devotionate appeal,

  That he would ope the fountain of his grace.

  He clasped his hands, and, rapt with fervent zeal,

  To Heaven addressed his words and beaming face:

  LXXI.

  Padre e Signor, se al popol tuo piovesti

  Già le dolci rugiade entro al deserto:

  Se a mortal mano già virtù porgesti

  564 Romper le pietre, e trar del monte aperto

  Un vivo fiume; or rinnovella in questi

  Gli stessi esempj: e se ineguale è il merto,

  Adempi di tua grazia i lor difetti:568E giovi lor che tuoi guerrier sian detti.

  LXXI

  “Father and Lord, if in the deserts waste

  Thou hadst compassion on thy children dear,

  The craggy rock when Moses cleft and brast,

  And drew forth flowing streams of waters clear,

  Like mercy, Lord, like grace on us down cast;

  And though our merits less than theirs appear,

  Thy grace supply that want, for though they be

  Thy first-born son, thy children yet are we.”

  LXXI

  ‘Father and Lord! if, in the desert, thou

  Didst on thy people sweet refreshment rain,

  Or mortal hands didst with the power endow

  Hard rocks to rive, and living streams obtain

  From the cleft stone, — to us do not deny

  Like love; and if unequal be our claim,

  Do our deficiency by grace supply,

  Nor let us vainly plead who bear thy name.’

  LXXII.

  Tarde non furon già queste preghiere,

  Che derivar da giusto umil desio;

  Ma sen volaro al Ciel pronte e leggiere,

  572 Come pennuti augelli, innanzi a Dio.

  Le accolse il Padre eterno, ed alle schiere

  Fedeli sue rivolse il guardo pio:

  E di sì gravi lor rischj e fatiche

  576 Gl’increbbe, e disse con parole amiche:

  LXXII

  These prayers just, from humble hearts forth sent,

  Were nothing slow to climb the starry sky,

  But swift as winged bird themselves present

  Before the Father of the heavens high:

  The Lord accepted them, and gently bent

  Upon the faithful host His gracious eye,

  And in what pain and what distress it laid,

  He saw, and grieved to see, and thus He said:

  LXXII

  No lagging course his pious prayers pursue,

  Since sprung from humble and so just desire,

  But prompt and light through heaven’s crystallin flew,

  Like winged birds, unto their God. The Sire

  Eternal heard, and on His faithful host

  Cast down a tender and compassionate look;

  And, grieving for their toils and numbers lost,

  In these benignant, friendly accents spoke:

  LXXIII.

  Abbia sin quì sue dure e perigliose

  Avversità sofferto il campo amato:

  E contra lui, con armi ed arti ascose,

  580 Siasi l’inferno e siasi il mondo armato.

  Or cominci novello ordin di cose,

  E gli si volga prospero e beato:

  Piova, e ritorni il suo Guerriero invitto;584E venga, a gloria sua, l’oste d’Egitto.

  LXXIII

  “Mine armies dear till now have suffered woe,

  Distress and danger, hell’s infernal power

  Their enemy hath been, the world their foe,

  But happy be their actions from this hour:

  What they begin to blessed end shall go,

  I will refresh them with a gentle shower;

  Rinaldo shall return, the Egyptian crew

  They shall encounter, conquer, and subdue.”

  LXXIII

  ‘Tho’ my loved camp may have suffered till this hour

  Painful and perilous adversity,

  Though hell with all its secret arts and power,

  And though the world against it armèd be,

  Now a new state of fortune shall begin,

  And turn its grief to joy. Let rain fall down,

  Return its own unconquered paladin,

  And Egypt’s host arrive — his fame to crown.’

  LXXIV.

  Così dicendo, il capo mosse: e gli ampj

  Cieli tremaro, e i lumi erranti, e i fissi:

  E tremò l’aria riverente, e i campi

  588 Dell’Oceano, e i monti, e i ciechi abissi.

  Fiammeggiare a sinistra accesi lampi

  Fur visti, e chiaro tuono insieme udissi.

  Accompagnan le genti il lampo e ‘l tuono

  592 Con allegro di voci ed alto suono.

  LXXIV

  At these high words great heaven began to shake,

  The fixed stars, the planets wandering still,

  Trembled the air, the earth and ocean quake,

  Spring, fountain, river, forest, dale and hill;

  From north to east, a lightning flash outbrake,

  And coming drops presaged with thunders shrill:

  With joyful shouts the soldiers on the plain,

  These tokens bless of long-desired rain.

  LXXIV

  He ceased, and bowed his head; — then shook the sky;

  The stars and wandering planets felt the spell;

  Trembled the reverent air, the mountains high,

  The fields of ocean, and the abyss of hell;

  Leftwards forked lightning flashed, and with it pealed

  Loud claps of thunder through the lowering skies.

  Each flash, each peal, the gladdened army hailed

  With joyful clamour and exulting cries.

  LXXV.

  Ecco subite nubi; e non di terra

  Già, per virtù del Sole, in alto ascese;

  Ma giù dal Ciel, che tutte apre e disserra

&
nbsp; 596 Le porte sue, veloci in giù discese.

  Ecco notte improvvisa il giorno serra

  Nell’ombre sue, che d’ogni intorno ha stese.

  Segue la pioggia impetuosa, e cresce

  600 Il rio così, che fuor del letto n’esce.

  LXXV

  A sudden cloud, as when Helias prayed,

  Not from dry earth exhaled by Phoebus’ beams,

  Arose, moist heaven his windows open laid,

  Whence clouds by heaps out rush, and watery streams,

  The world o’erspread was with a gloomy shade,

  That like a dark mirksome even it seems;

  The crashing rain from molten skies down fell,

  And o’er their banks the brooks and fountains swell.

  LXXV

  Lo! sudden clouds, and they not earthly born,

  Or upwards drawn by virtue of the sun,

  But from high heaven — which had asunder torn

  Its mighty gates — fall, rushing swiftly down.

  Lo! sudden night the light of day enchains

  Within its shade, that all around is spread;

  Succeeded by such fierce, impetuous rains,

  That Siloë now o’erleaps his narrow bed.

  LXXVI.

  Come talor nella stagione estiva,

  Se dal Ciel pioggia desiata scende,

  Stuol d’anitre loquaci in secca riva

  604 Con rauco mormorar lieto l’attende:

  E spiega l’ali al freddo umor, nè schiva

  Alcuna di bagnarsi in lui si rende:

  E là ‘ve in maggior copia ei si raccoglia,

  608 Si tuffa, e spegne l’assetata voglia;

  LXXVI

  In summer season, when the cloudy sky

  Upon the parched ground doth rain down send,

  As duck and mallard in the furrows dry

  With merry noise the promised showers attend,

  And spreading broad their wings displayed lie

  To keep the drops that on their plumes descend,

  And where the streams swell to a gathered lake,

  Therein they dive, and sweet refreshing take:

  LXXVI

  As in midsummer’s season, if the shower

  So pined, so longed for, from the heavens descend,

  In fond impatience of the welcome hour,

  By arid streams hoarse chattering ducks attend,

  Spreading their pinions to the grateful cool;

  None from the clear, refreshing moisture blench,

  And, where the gathering freshet forms a pool,

  Plunge in its depths their burning thirst to quench;

  LXXVII.

  Così gridando, la cadente piova,

  Che la destra del Ciel pietosa versa,

  Lieti salutan questi: a ciascun giova

  612 La chioma averne, non che ‘l manto, aspersa.

  Chi bee ne’ vetri, e chi negli elmi a prova:

  Chi tien la man nella fresca onda immersa:

  Chi se ne spruzza il volto, e chi le tempie:

  616 Chi scaltro a miglior uso i vasi n’empie.

  LXXVII

  So they the streaming showers with shouts and cries

  Salute, which heaven shed on the thirsty lands,

  The falling liquor from the dropping skies

  He catcheth in his lap, he barehead stands,

  And his bright helm to drink therein unties,

  In the fresh streams he dives his sweaty hands,

  Their faces some, and some their temples wet,

  And some to keep the drops large vessels set.

  LXXVII

  So these salute with screams of wild delight

  The falling rain, that with compassionate hand

  God sent His faithful people to requite.

  Uncloaked, nay more, unhelmeted, all stand;

  This drinks from glass, that with his helmet vies,

  These keep their hands immersed beneath the rill;

  Some bathe their throbbing temples, some their eyes;

  Vessels, for better use, the crafty fill.

  LXXVIII.

  Nè pur l’umana gente or si rallegra,

  E de’ suoi danni a ristorar si viene;

  Ma la terra, che dianzi afflitta ed egra

  620 Di fessure le membra avea ripiene,

  La pioggia in se raccoglie, e si rintegra,

  E la comparte alle più interne vene:

  E largamente i nutritivi umori

  624 Alle piante ministra, all’erbe, ai fiori.

  LXXVIII

  Nor man alone to ease his burning sore,

  Herein doth dive and wash, and hereof drinks,

  But earth itself weak, feeble, faint before,

  Whose solid limbs were cleft with rifts and chinks,

  Received the falling showers and gathered store

  Of liquor sweet, that through her veins down sinks,

  And moisture new infused largely was

  In trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass.

  LXXVIII

  And not alone the human race is glad,

  Its previous waste rejoicing to restore;

  But the parched earth, that was so faint, so sad,

  And in its limbs such gaping fissures bore,

  Sucks in the moisture, and unites once more;

  And spreads it thence throughout its inmost veins,

  Supplying largely each exhausted flower,

  Each herb and plant with heaven’s nutritious rains:

  LXXIX.

  Ed inferma somiglia, a cui vitale

  Succo l’interne parti arse rinfresca:

  E disgombrando la cagion del male,

  628 A cui le membra sue fur cibo ed esca;

  La rinfranca, e ristora, e rende quale

  Fu nella sua stagion più verde e fresca:

  Tal ch’obliando i suoi passati affanni

  632 Le ghirlande ripiglia, e i lieti panni.

  LXXIX

  Earth, like the patient was, whose lively blood

  Hath overcome at last some sickness strong,

  Whose feeble limbs had been the bait and food

  Whereon this strange disease depastured long,

  But now restored, in health and welfare stood,

  As sound as erst, as fresh, as fair, as young;

  So that forgetting all his grief and pain,

  His pleasant robes and crowns he takes again.

  LXXIX

  Resembling sickly girl whose fever was

  By vital draughts and cordial balms subdued,

  Whence, disencumbered of the fatal cause

  That made her limbs its appetising food,

  As fresh and as recruited she becomes

  As in the season of her greatest charms,

  And now, forgetting her past ills, resumes

  Her robes, her garlands, and all beauty’s arms.

  LXXX.

  Cessa la pioggia alfine, e torna il Sole:

  Ma dolce spiega e temperato il raggio,

  Pien di maschio valor, siccome suole

  636 Tra ‘l fin d’Aprile, e il cominciar di Maggio.

  Oh fidanza gentil! chi Dio ben cole,

  L’aria sgombrar d’ogni mortale oltraggio:

  Cangiare alle stagioni ordine e stato:

  640 Vincer la rabbia delle stelle, e ‘l fato.

  LXXX

  Ceased the rain, the sun began to shine,

  With fruitful, sweet, benign, and gentle ray,

  Full of strong power and vigor masculine,

  As be his beams in April or in May.

  O happy zeal! who trusts in help divine

  The world’s afflictions thus can drive away,

  Can storms appease, and times and seasons change,

  And conquer fortune, fate, and destiny strange.

  LXXX

  The rains now cease; the sun returns at length,

  But with a genial and attempered ray,

  As it is wont, replete with virile strength,
<
br />   At the end of April or the birth of May.

  O gentle faith! alone thy virtue can

  The air’s death-bearing poison dissipate,

  Can change the seasons’ order and their plan,

  Thwart the stars’ influence, and discomfit Fate.

  Canto quattordicesimo

  FOURTEENTH BOOK

  ARGOMENTO.

  Intende in sogno il Capitan Francese

  Come Dio vuol che si richiami all’oste

  Il buon Rinaldo: ond’egli poi cortese

  De’ Principi risponde alle proposte.

  Ma Piero che già prima il tutto intese,

  I messi invia là dov’han cortese oste

  Un mago; il qual lor pria d’Armida scopre

  Gli occulti inganni, indi gli ajuta all’opre.

  THE ARGUMENT.

  His will; Rinaldo must return at last;

  They have their asking who for pardon sue:

  Two knights to find the prince are sent in haste,

  But Peter, who by vision all foreknew,

  Sendeth the searchers to a wizard, placed

  Deep in a vault, who first at large declares

  Armida’s trains, then how to shun those snares.

  I.

  Usciva omai dal molle e fresco grembo

  Della gran madre sua la notte oscura;

  Aure lievi portando, e largo nembo

  4 Di sua rugiada preziosa e pura:

  E scuotendo del vel l’umido lembo

  Ne spargeva i fioretti e la verdura:

  E i venticelli, dibattendo l’ali,

  8 Lusingavano il sonno de’ mortali.

  I

  Now from the fresh, the soft and tender bed

  Of her still mother, gentle night out flew,

  The fleeting balm on hills and dales she shed,

  With honey drops of pure and precious dew,

  And on the verdure of green forests spread

  The virgin primrose and the violet blue,

  And sweet-breathed Zephyr on his spreading wings,

  Sleep, ease, repose, rest, peace and quiet brings.

  I

  Now issuing from her mother’s womb, the night

  O’er heaven and earth her sable shadows threw;

  Bearer she was of zephyrs passing light,

  And of big showers of pure and precious dew;

  Shaking the humid border of her veil,

  She with its drops the grass and flowers impearled;

  And flapping his glad wings the gentle gale,