Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  As the fierce steed for age withdrawn from war

  Wherein the glorious beast had always wone,

  That in vile rest from fight sequestered far,

  Feeds with the mares at large, his service done,

  If arms he see, or hear the trumpet’s jar,

  He neigheth loud and thither fast doth run,

  And wiseth on his back the armed knight,

  Longing for jousts, for tournament and fight:

  XXVIII

  Like war horse, that, triumphant at the close

  Of the campaign’s fatigues and fame, repairs,

  As wanton sire in infamous repose,

  To roam at will ‘mid pastures and the mares;

  If but awakened by the trumpet’s strain

  Or flashing steel, he neighs and gallops there;

  He burns to tread the martial lists again,

  And in the charge once more his rider bear:

  XXIX.

  Tal si fece il Garzon, quando repente

  Dell’arme il lampo gli occhj suoi percosse.

  Quel sì guerrier, quel sì feroce ardente

  228 Suo spirto a quel fulgor tutto si scosse:

  Benchè tra gli agj morbidi languente,

  E tra i piaceri ebbro e sopito ei fosse.

  Intanto Ubaldo oltra ne viene, e ‘l terso

  232 Adamantino scudo ha in lui converso.

  XXIX

  So fared Rinaldo when the glorious light

  Of their bright harness glistered in his eyes,

  His noble sprite awaked at that sight

  His blood began to warm, his heart to rise,

  Though, drunk with ease, devoid of wonted might

  On sleep till then his weakened virtue lies.

  Ubaldo forward stepped, and to him hield

  Of diamonds clear that pure and precious shield.

  XXIX

  So felt Rinaldo, as the lightning rays

  Of armour burst upon his dazzled sight;

  Instant his warrior spirit was ablaze,

  Excited, maddened by the welcome light,

  Though morbid ease and pleasures had entranced

  His facile mind. Meanwhile in full revealed,

  Ubaldo from the underwood advanced,

  And on him turned the adamantine shield.

  XXX.

  Egli al lucido scudo il guardo gira;

  Onde si specchia in lui qual siasi, e quanto,

  Con delicato culto adorno, spira

  236 Tutto odori e lascivie il crine e ‘l manto:

  E ‘l ferro, il ferro aver non ch’altro, mira

  Dal troppo lusso effeminato a canto.

  Guernito è sì che inutile ornamento

  240 Sembra, non militar fero instrumento.

  XXX

  Upon the targe his looks amazed he bent,

  And therein all his wanton habit spied,

  His civet, balm, and perfumes redolent,

  How from his locks they smoked and mantle wide,

  His sword that many a Pagan stout had shent,

  Bewrapped with flowers, hung idly by his side,

  So nicely decked that it seemed the knight

  Wore it for fashion’s sake but not for fight.

  XXX

  In the bright shield the youth himself beheld,

  Such as he was; marked his effeminate air,

  What perfume saw and wantonness exhaled,

  His sybarite robes, his mantle, and his hair;

  The very sabre pendent at his side

  Appeared a woman’s gaudy ornament,

  Forming a useless article of pride,

  And not a manly warlike instrument.

  XXXI.

  Qual’uom da cupo e grave sonno oppresso

  Dopo vaneggiar lungo in se riviene;

  Tal ei tornò nel rimirar se stesso:

  244 Ma se stesso mirar già non sostiene.

  Giù cade il guardo: e timido e dimesso

  Guardando, a terra la vergogna il tiene.

  Si chiuderebbe e sotto il mare e dentro

  248 Il foco, per celarsi, e giù nel centro.

  XXXI

  As when, from sleep and idle dreams abraid,

  A man awaked calls home his wits again;

  So in beholding his attire he played,

  But yet to view himself could not sustain,

  His looks he downward cast and naught he said,

  Grieved, shamed, sad, he would have died fain,

  And oft he wished the earth or ocean wide

  Would swallow him, and so his errors hide.

  XXXI

  As one with deep and leaden sleep oppressed,

  Comes, the dream past, unto himself again,

  So turned he from the mirror’s faithful test,

  Nor longer could the sickening sight sustain;

  With drooping eyes he gazed upon the ground,

  Timid, abashed; a prey to burning shame,

  ‘Neath the wild waves he wishes he were drowned,

  Sunk in earth’s centre, or consumed by flame.

  XXXII.

  Ubaldo incominciò parlando allora:

  Va l’Asia tutta, e va l’Europa in guerra:

  Chiunque pregio brama, e Cristo adora,

  252 Travaglia in arme or nella Siria terra.

  Te solo, o figlio di Bertoldo, fuora

  Del mondo, in ozio, un breve angolo serra;

  Te sol dell’universo il moto nulla

  256 Move, egregio campion d’una fanciulla!

  XXXII

  Ubaldo took the time, and thus begun,

  “All Europe now and Asia be in war,

  And all that Christ adore and fame have won,

  In battle strong, in Syria fighting are;

  But thee alone, Bertoldo’s noble son,

  This little corner keeps, exiled far

  From all the world, buried in sloth and shame,

  A carpet champion for a wanton dame.

  XXXII

  Then spake Ubaldo: ‘Far from this lonely shore,

  Europe and Asia bloody battle wage,

  And those who thirst for fame, and Christ adore,

  Now sheathed in arms in Palestine engage:

  Thee, only thee, Bertholdo’s son, removed

  Outside the world, a little nook shuts in;

  By the world’s movements thou art alone unmoved,

  A Pagan trull’s illustrious paladin!

  XXXIII.

  Qual sonno, o qual letargo ha sì sopita

  La tua virtute? o qual viltà l’alletta?

  Su su, te il campo, e te Goffredo invita:

  260 Te la fortuna, e la vittoria aspetta.

  Vieni, o fatal guerriero, e sia finita

  La ben comincia impresa: e l’empia setta,

  Che già crollasti, a terra estinta cada

  264 Sotto l’inevitabile tua spada.

  XXXIII

  “What letharge hath in drowsiness up-penned

  Thy courage thus? what sloth doth thee infect?

  Up, up, our camp and Godfrey for thee send,

  Thee fortune, praise and victory expect,

  Come, fatal champion, bring to happy end

  This enterprise begun, all that sect

  Which oft thou shaken hast to earth full low

  With thy sharp brand strike down, kill, overthrow.”

  XXXIII

  ‘What sleep, what fatal lethargy unites,

  Thy soul, thy valour to contaminate?

  Up, up! Thee, Godfred, thee the camp invites;

  Fortune and victory for thy coming wait;

  Come, fated champion! and, ‘neath Salem’s wall,

  Complete the task begun, and let the horde

  Which thou hast shaken so already, fall

  Beneath the sweep of thy predestined sword.’

  XXXIV.

  Tacque; e ‘l nobil Garzon restò per poco

  Spazio confuso, e senza moto e voce.

  Ma poi che diè vergogna a sdegno loco,


  268 Sdegno guerrier della ragion feroce,

  E che al rossor del volto un novo foco

  Successe che più avvampa, e che più coce;

  Squarciossi i vani fregj, e quelle indegne

  272 Pompe, di servitù misera insegne.

  XXXIV

  This said, the noble infant stood a space

  Confused, speechless, senseless, ill-ashamed;

  But when that shame to just disdain gave place,

  To fierce disdain, from courage sprung untamed,

  Another redness blushed through his face,

  Whence worthy anger shone, displeasure flamed,

  His nice attire in scorn he rent and tore,

  For of his bondage vile that witness bore;

  XXXIV

  He ceased. The noble youth remained a space,

  Voiceless, moveless, confused — but when the stings

  Of shame to indignation had given place,

  Armed indignation that from reason springs;

  And to his blushes flashed another fire,

  That raged more fiercely, and more warmth bespoke;

  He rent asunder all his vain attire,

  The wretched sign of his disgraceful yoke.

  XXXV.

  Ed affrettò il partire, e della torta

  Confusione uscì del laberinto.

  Intanto Armida della regal porta

  276 Mirò giacere il fier custode estinto.

  Sospettò prima, e si fu poscia accorta

  Ch’era il suo caro al dipartirsi accinto:

  E ‘l vide (ahi fera vista!) al dolce albergo

  280 Dar frettoloso fuggitivo il tergo.

  XXXV

  That done, he hasted from the charmed fort,

  And through the maze passed with his searchers twain.

  Armida of her mount and chiefest port

  Wondered to find the furious keeper slain,

  Awhile she feared, but she knew in short,

  That her dear lord was fled, then saw she plain,

  Ah, woful sight! how from her gates the man

  In haste, in fear, in wrath, in anger ran.

  XXXV

  And springing up with haste precipitate,

  Through the wild mazes of the labyrinth fled;

  Meanwhile the guardian of her royal gate

  Armida, horror-struck, saw lying dead:

  She first suspected, but too soon had proof,

  That ’twas her lover hurrying away;

  She saw him turn his back on that sweet roof,

  (Ah, woeful spectacle!) then strove to say:

  XXXVI.

  Volea gridar: dove, o crudel, me sola

  Lasci? ma il varco al suon chiuse il dolore:

  Sicchè tornò la flebile parola

  284 Più amara indietro a rimbombar sul core.

  Misera, i suoi diletti ora le invola

  Forza e saper del suo saper maggiore.

  Ella se ‘l vede, e invan pur s’argomenta

  288 Di ritenerlo, e l’arti sue ritenta.

  XXXVI

  “Whither, O cruel! leavest thou me alone?”

  She would have cried, her grief her speeches stayed,

  So that her woful words are backward gone,

  And in her heart a bitter echo made;

  Poor soul, of greater skill than she was one

  Whose knowledge from her thus her joy conveyed,

  This wist she well, yet had desire to prove

  If art could keep, if charms recall her love.

  XXXVI

  ‘Whither, O cruel, leavest thou me alone?’

  But grief had closed the passage to the sound,

  So that returned the faint and dolorous tone,

  Within her heart more sadly to rebound;

  Yes, power and knowledge greater than thine own,

  Poor wretch, have robbed thee of thy heart’s delight;

  This she well knew, and vainly now had gone

  To try could magic yet arrest his flight.

  XXXVII.

  Quante mormorò mai profane note

  Tessala maga con la bocca immonda:

  Ciò ch’arrestar può le celesti rote,

  292 E l’ombre trar della prigion profonda,

  Sapea ben tutto: e pur oprar non puote,

  Ch’almen l’Inferno al suo parlar risponda.

  Lascia gl’incanti, e vuol provar se vaga

  296 E supplice beltà sia miglior maga.

  XXXVII

  All what the witches of Thessalia land,

  With lips unpure yet ever said or spake,

  Words that could make heaven’s rolling circles stand,

  And draw the damned ghosts from Limbo lake,

  All well she knew, but yet no time she fand

  To use her knowledge or her charms to make,

  But left her arts, and forth she ran to prove

  If single beauty were best charm for love.

  XXXVII

  All the foul words Thessalian witches e’er

  Breathed from their lips obscene, with every spell

  That could arrest the planets in the air,

  Or summon spirits from the abyss of hell;

  All, all she knew: and yet could not effect

  That hell would ev’n make answer to her speech.

  The sorceress then her incantations checked,

  To try would beauty prove a better witch.

  XXXVIII.

  Corre, e non ha d’onor cura o ritegno.

  Ahi dove or sono i suoi trionfi e i vanti?

  Costei d’Amor, quanto egli è grande, il regno

  300 Volse e rivolse sol col cenno innanti:

  E così pari al fasto ebbe lo sdegno,

  Ch’amò d’esser amata, odiò gli amanti:

  Sè gradì sola, e fuor di sè in altrui

  304 Sol qualche effetto de’ begli occhj sui.

  XXXVIII

  She ran, nor of her honor took regard,

  Oh where be all her vaunts and triumphs now?

  Love’s empire great of late she made or marred,

  To her his subjects humbly bend and bow,

  And with her pride mixed was a scorn so hard,

  That to be loved she loved, yet whilst they woo

  Her lovers all she hates; that pleased her will

  To conquer men, and conquered so, to kill.

  XXXVIII

  She flies, nor recks of honour, or of state.

  Where are her triumphs now, and vaunted power?

  She who Love’s empire, howsoever great,

  Turned and o’erturned by a sole glance before;

  Whose pride was matched with such disdain, that she

  Loved to be loved, and yet her lovers hated;

  Herself her idol, her delight to see

  In others the impression she created.

  XXXIX.

  Or negletta e schernita, e in abbandono

  Rimasa, segue pur chi fugge e sprezza:

  E procura adornar co’ pianti il dono

  308 Rifiutato per se di sua bellezza.

  Vassene; ed al piè tenero non sono

  Quel gelo intoppo e quella alpina asprezza,

  E invia per messaggieri innanzi i gridi:

  312 Nè giunge lui pria ch’ei sia giunto ai lidi.

  XXXIX

  But now herself disdained, abandoned,

  Ran after him; that from her fled in scorn,

  And her despised beauty labored

  With humble plaints and prayers to adorn:

  She ran and hasted after him that fled,

  Through frost and snow, through brier, bush and thorn,

  And sent her cries on message her before,

  That reached not him till he had reached the shore.

  XXXIX

  Tho’ slighted now, abandoned, and neglected,

  She follows him who flies her, and who scorns;

  And her rare beauty, for itself rejected,

  With tears, to make more beautiful, adorns.

&n
bsp; Away she goes; nor do her tender feet

  Heed frost or Alpine roughness, and before

  She sends loud cries, as heralds, to entreat;

  Nor reaches him till he had gained the shore.

  XL.

  Forsennata gridava: o tu che porte

  Teco parte di me, parte ne lassi;

  O prendi l’una o rendi l’altra, o morte

  316 Dà insieme ad ambe: arresta, arresta i passi,

  Sol che ti sian le voci ultime porte,

  Non dico i bacj; altra più degna avrassi

  Questi da te. Chè temi, empio, se resti?

  320 Potrai negar, poi che fuggir potesti.

  XL

  “Oh thou that leav’st but half behind,” quoth she,

  “Of my poor heart, and half with thee dost carry,

  Oh take this part, or render that to me,

  Else kill them both at once, ah tarry, tarry:

  Hear my last words, no parting kiss of thee

  I crave, for some more fit with thee to marry

  Keep them, unkind; what fear’st thou if thou stay?

  Thou may’st deny, as well as run away.”

  XL

  Then madly cries: ‘ O thou that bear’st with thee

  Part of myself, and leavest part behind,

  Or take thou this, or that restore to me,

  Or both destroy! Ah, stay! ah, stay! unkind!

  Let my last dying accents reach thine ear;

  Kisses, a fairer will henceforth supply;

  Why to remain, unfeeling, dost thou fear?

  Thou canst refuse, who hadst the heart to fly.’

  XLI.

  Dissegli Ubaldo allor: già non conviene

  Che d’aspettar costei, Signor, ricusi.

  Di beltà armata, e de’ suoi preghi or viene

  324 Dolcemente nel pianto amaro infusi.

  Qual più forte di te, se le Sirene

  Vedendo ed ascoltando a vincer t’usi?

  Così ragion pacifica Reina

  328 De’ sensi fassi, e se medesma affina.

  XLI

  At this Rinaldo stopped, stood still, and stayed,

  She came, sad, breathless, weary, faint and weak,

  So woe-begone was never nymph or maid

  And yet her beauty’s pride grief could not break,

  On him she looked, she gazed, but naught she said,

  She would not, could not, or she durst not speak,

  At her he looked not, glanced not, if he did,

  Those glances shamefaced were, close, secret, hid.

  XLI

  At this the cavalier stood still, while she