Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  Came up all breathless and dissolved in tears;

  And tho’ in greater grief she could not be,

  Still not more sad than lovely she appears.

  She looks — she looks him thro’ — yet speaketh naught:

  Or that she scorns, or thinks, or does not dare.

  He durst not look; and if a glance he caught,

  ’Twas with a furtive self-reproachful air.

  XLII.

  Allor ristette il Cavaliero: ed ella

  Sovraggiunse anelante e lagrimosa:

  Dolente sì che nulla più, ma bella

  332 Altrettanto però quanto dogliosa.

  Lui guarda, e in lui s’affisa, e non favella:

  O che sdegna, o che pensa, o che non osa.

  Ei lei non mira, e se pur mira, il guardo

  336 Furtivo volge e vergognoso e tardo.

  XLII

  As cunning singers, ere they strain on high,

  In loud melodious tunes, their gentle voice,

  Prepare the hearers’ ears to harmony

  With feignings sweet, low notes and warbles choice:

  So she, not having yet forgot pardie

  Her wonted shifts and sleights in Cupid’s toys,

  A sequence first of sighs and sobs forthcast,

  To breed compassion dear, then spake at last:

  XLII

  As gentle singer, who before he dares

  Free to loud burst of melody his tongue,

  With a sweet prelude of low notes prepares

  The listening world for his harmonious song:

  So she, who, tho’ in bitter grief immersed,

  Had not forgotten her deceitful art,

  Breathed a short symphony of sighs at first,

  To predispose admission to his heart.

  XLIII.

  Qual musico gentil, prima che chiara

  Altamente la lingua al canto snodi;

  All’armonia gli animi altrui prepara

  340 Con dolci ricercate in bassi modi:

  Così costei, che nella doglia amara

  Già tutte non oblia l’arti e le frodi;

  Fa di sospir breve concento in prima,

  344 Per dispor l’alma in cui le voci imprima.

  XLIII

  “Suppose not, cruel, that I come to vow

  Or pray, as ladies do their loves and lords;

  Such were we late, if thou disdain it now,

  Or scorn to grant such grace as love affords,

  At least yet as an enemy listen thou:

  Sworn foes sometimes will talk and chaffer words,

  For what I ask thee, may’st thou grant right well,

  And lessen naught thy wrath and anger fell.

  XLIII

  ‘Think not, ah cruel!’ she began, ‘ that I

  To thee as lover should to lover pray.

  Such we were once; but shouldst thou scorn this tie,

  Or that its memory on thy mind doth weigh,

  Hear me at least as foe; a foeman will

  At times ev’n listen to a foe’s desire:

  Thou well mayst grant what I demand, and still

  Preserve thy anger and thy hate entire.

  XLIV.

  Poi cominciò: non aspettar ch’io preghi,

  Crudel, te, come amante amante deve:

  Tai fummo un tempo: or se tal esser neghi,

  348 E di ciò la memoria anco t’è greve;

  Come nemico almeno ascolta: i preghi

  D’un nemico talor l’altro riceve.

  Ben quel ch’io chieggio è tal che darlo puoi,

  352 E integri conservar gli sdegni tuoi.

  XLIV

  “If me thou hate, and in that hate delight,

  I come not to appease thee, hate me still,

  It’s like for like; I bore great hate and spite

  Gainst Christians all, chiefly I wish thee ill:

  I was a Pagan born, and all my might

  Against Godfredo bent, mine art and skill:

  I followed thee, took thee, and bore thee far,

  To this strange isle, and kept thee safe from war.

  XLIV

  ‘If thou dost hate me, and in that delight,

  Hate on; I leave thee to that feeling free.

  Thou deem’st it just, ’tis just; since I admit

  The Franks I hated — yes, I hated thee.

  I, Pagan born, a thousand means employed

  Thy realm to ruin, and with deep laid plot

  Thee followed, captured, and from arms decoyed,

  Far, far away, to a strange unknown spot.

  XLV.

  Se m’odj, e in ciò diletto alcun tu senti,

  Non ten’vengo a privar: godi pur d’esso.

  Giusto a te pare, e siasi; anch’io le genti

  356 Cristiane odiai (nol nego) odiai te stesso.

  Nacqui Pagana: usai varj argomenti,

  Chè per me fosse il vostro imperio oppresso:

  Te perseguii, te presi, e te lontano

  360 Dall’arme trassi in loco ignoto e strano.

  XLV

  “And more, which more thy hate may justly move,

  More to thy loss, more to thy shame and grief,

  I thee inchanted, and allured to love,

  Wicked deceit, craft worthy sharp reprief;

  Mine honor gave I thee all gifts above,

  And of my beauties made thee lord and chief,

  And to my suitors old what I denayed,

  That gave I thee, my lover new, unprayed.

  XLV

  ‘And add to this, what more thy hate will move,

  And will the burden of my wrongs complete,

  I cheated and enticed thee into love.

  Most impious fraud, forsooth! most base deceit,

  To yield the flower of maidenhood and pride,

  And make another master of these charms,

  And that which unto thousands was denied,

  To give unsought for to a stranger’s arms!

  XLVI.

  Aggiungi a questo ancor quel ch’a maggiore

  Onta tu rechi, ed a maggior tuo danno:

  T’ingannai, t’allettai nel nostro amore;

  364 Empia lusinga, certo, iniquo inganno,

  Lasciarsi corre il virginal suo fiore;

  Far delle sue bellezze altrui tiranno:

  Quelle ch’a mille antichi in premio sono

  368 Negate, offrire a novo amante in dono.

  XLVI

  “But reckon that among, my faults, and let

  Those many wrongs provoke thee so to wrath,

  That hence thou run, and that at naught thou set

  This pleasant house, so many joys which hath;

  Go, travel, pass the seas, fight, conquest get,

  Destroy our faith, what shall I say, our faith?

  Ah no! no longer ours; before thy shrine

  Alone I pray, thou cruel saint of mine;

  XLVI

  ‘Count this too ‘mong the sins I have to bear,

  And let the faults of poor Armida move

  Thee to depart from hence; no more to care

  For this sweet roof, mute witness of our love.

  Go, battle, toil, haste back to Palestine;

  I’ll speed thee on: destroy our faith — Ah me!

  Why say I ours? Alas! no longer mine;

  Since, cruel idol, I but worship thee.

  XLVII.

  Sia questa pur tra le mie frodi: e vaglia

  Sì di tante mie colpe in te il difetto,

  Che tu quinci ti parta, e non ti caglia

  372 Di questo albergo tuo già sì diletto.

  Vattene: passa il mar: pugna, travaglia:

  Struggi la fede nostra; anch’io t’affretto.

  Chè dico nostra? ah non più mia; fedele

  376 Sono a te solo, idolo mio crudele.

  XLVII

  “All only let me go with thee, unkind,

  A small request although I were thy foe,

  The spoile
r seldom leaves the prey behind,

  Who triumphs lets his captives with him go;

  Among thy prisoners poor Armida bind,

  And let the camp increase thy praises so,

  That thy beguiler so thou couldst beguile,

  And point at me, thy thrall and bondslave vile.

  XLVII

  ‘Let me but follow thee, and quit this soil;

  Ev’n foes would reckon that a small request.

  The spoiler leaves not thus behind his spoil;

  The conqueror goes, why then should captive rest?

  Me let the camp among thy trophies see,

  And add this triumph to thy former fame,

  That thou hast mocked the woman that mocked thee,

  So that they point their fingers at my shame.

  XLVIII.

  Solo ch’io segua te mi si conceda:

  Picciola fra’ nemici anco richiesta;

  Non lascia indietro il predator la preda:

  380 Va il trionfante, il prigionier non resta.

  Me fra l’altre tue spoglie il campo veda,

  Ed all’altre tue lodi aggiunga questa;

  Che la tua schernitrice abbia schernito,

  384 Mostrando me sprezzata ancella a dito.

  XLVIII

  “Despised bondslave, since my lord doth hate

  These locks, why keep I them or hold them dear?

  Come cut them off, that to my servile state

  My habit answer may, and all my gear:

  I follow thee in spite of death and fate,

  Through battles fierce where dangers most appear,

  Courage I have, and strength enough perchance,

  To lead thy courser spare, and bear thy lance:

  XLVIII

  ‘Shamed and despised, for whom, then, shall I save

  These flowing tresses thou hast rendered vile?

  I’ll cut them off, and follow thee as slave,

  And to that grade my bearing reconcile.

  Thee will I follow through the hostile crowd,

  Where hottest battle doth its risks enhance;

  With strength sufficient is my arm endowed

  To lead thy charger, or support thy lance.

  XLIX.

  Sprezzata ancella, a chi fo più conserva

  Di questa chioma, or ch’a te fatta è vile?

  Raccorcierolla: al titolo di serva

  388 Vuò portamento accompagnar servile.

  Te seguirò, quando l’ardor più ferva

  Della battaglia, entro la turba ostíle.

  Animo ho bene, ho ben vigor che baste

  392 A condurti i cavalli, a portar l’aste.

  XLIX

  “I will or bear, or be myself, thy shield,

  And to defend thy life, will lose mine own:

  This breast, this bosom soft shall be thy bield

  Gainst storms of arrows, darts and weapons thrown;

  Thy foes, pardie, encountering thee in field,

  Will spare to strike thee, mine affection known,

  Lest me they wound, nor will sharp vengeance take

  On thee, for this despised beauty’s sake.

  XLIX

  ‘Yes, I will be or I will bear thy shield,

  Nor spare myself, so thou uninjured be;

  Thro’ this bare bosom, on the bloody field,

  Shall pass the sword, before it reaches thee.

  Barbarian sure were not inhuman so

  As point ‘gainst thee, thro’ this my breast, his arms;

  And may the pleasure of revenge forego

  For these, whate’er they be, neglected charms.

  L.

  Sarò qual più vorrai scudiere o scudo:

  Non fia che in tua difesa io mi risparmi.

  Per questo sen, per questo collo ignudo,

  396 Pria che giungano a te, passeran l’armi.

  Barbaro forse non sarà sì crudo,

  Che ti voglia ferir per non piagarmi;

  Condonando il piacer della vendetta

  400 A questa, qual si sia, beltà negletta.

  L

  “O wretch! dare I still vaunt, or help invoke

  From this poor beauty, scorned and disdained?”

  She said no more, her tears her speeches broke,

  Which from her eyes like streams from springs down rained:

  She would have caught him by the hand or cloak,

  But he stepped backward, and himself restrained,

  Conquered his will, his heart ruth softened not,

  There plaints no issue, love no entrance got.

  L

  ‘Fool! do I still presume, still vaunt the worth

  Of slighted beauty, that can nought obtain?’

  More she had said, but scalding tears burst forth,

  Like torrent sweeping down an Alpine chain.

  To seize his hand, his cloak, she had begun,

  Kneeling in suppliant posture on the ground:

  But he drew back, resisted her, and won;

  No entrance love, his tears no exit found.

  LI.

  Misera, ancor presumo? ancor mi vanto

  Di schernita beltà che nulla impetra?

  Volea più dir; ma l’interruppe il pianto,

  404 Che qual fonte sorgea d’alpina pietra.

  Prendergli cerca allor la destra o ‘l manto,

  Supplichevole in atto, ed ei s’arretra.

  Resiste, e vince: e in lui trova impedita

  408 Amor l’entrata, il lagrimar l’uscita.

  LI

  Love entered not to kindle in his breast,

  Which Reason late had quenched, his wonted flame;

  Yet entered Pity in the place at least,

  Love’s sister, but a chaste and sober dame,

  And stirred him so, that hardly he suppressed

  The springing tears that to his eyes up came;

  But yet even there his plaints repressed were,

  And, as he could, he looked, and feigned cheer.

  LI

  Love entered not to tan the former flame

  That in his bosom reason had congealed,

  But in its stead, at least, compassion came —

  Love’s chaste companion — whose mute voice appealed.

  And touched him, so that it was all he could

  Retrain from tears; yet, by strong will, he reined

  His yearning bias to that tender mood.

  And, by an effort, calm indifference feigned,

  LII.

  Non entra Amor a rinovar nel seno,

  Che ragion congelò, la fiamma antica.

  V’entra pietate in quella vece almeno,

  412 Pur compagna d’Amor, benchè pudíca:

  E lui commove in guisa tal ch’a freno

  Può ritener le lagrime a fatica.

  Pur quel tenero affetto entro ristringe,

  416 E quanto può gli atti compone, e infinge.

  LII

  “Madam,” quoth he, “for your distress I grieve,

  And would amend it, if I might or could.

  From your wise heart that fond affection drive:

  I cannot hate nor scorn you though I would,

  I seek no vengeance, wrongs I all forgive,

  Nor you my servant nor my foe I hold,

  Truth is, you erred, and your estate forgot,

  Too great your hate was, and your love too hot.

  LII

  Then said: ‘Armida grieved enough I am.

  And fain would, an I could, remove from thee

  The burning spirit of thy ill-starred flame,

  Since I from anger and from bate am free,

  Nor wrongs remember, nor revenge pursue;

  Nor can I thee as slave or foe address:

  Thou hast erred and passed beyond all bounds, ’tis true,

  Carrying thy love and hatred to excess.

  LIII.

  Poi le risponde: Armida, assai mi pesa

  Di te; sì potess’io, come il farei,

&n
bsp; Del mal concetto ardor l’anima accesa

  420 Sgombrarti; odj non son, nè sdegni i miei:

  Nè vuò vendetta: nè rammento offesa:

  Nè serva tu, nè tu nemica sei.

  Errasti, è vero, e trapassasti i modi,

  424 Ora gli amori esercitando, or gli odj.

  LIII

  “But those are common faults, and faults of kind,

  Excused by nature, by your sex and years;

  I erred likewise, if I pardon find

  None can condemn you, that our trespass hears;

  Your dear remembrance will I keep in mind,

  In joys, in woes, in comforts, hopes and fears,

  Call me your soldier and your knight, as far

  As Christian faith permits, and Asia’s war.

  LIII

  ‘But then, such errors common are, and them

  Thy native laws, thy sex, thy youth excuse.

  I, too, have erred, nor can I thee condemn,

  Unless I indulgence to myself refuse:

  In weal, in woe, in life, aye, ev’n in death

  Thy memory will be honoured and most dear;

  And, so far as my honour and my faith

  Allow of it, I’ll be thy cavalier.

  LIV.

  Ma che? son colpe umane, e colpe usate.

  Scuso la natia legge, il sesso, e gli anni.

  Anch’io parte fallii: se a me pietate

  428 Negar non vuò, non fia ch’io te condanni.

  Fra le care memorie ed onorate

  Mi sarai nelle gioje, e negli affanni:

  Sarò tuo cavalier, quanto concede

  432 La guerra d’Asia, e con l’onor la fede.

  LIV

  “Ah, let our faults and follies here take end,

  And let our errors past you satisfy,

  And in this angle of the world ypend,

  Let both the fame and shame thereof now die,

  From all the earth where I am known and kenned,

  I wish this fact should still concealed lie:

  Nor yet in following me, poor knight, disgrace

  Your worth, your beauty, and your princely race.

  LIV

  ‘But let us now our shame and sin give o’er;

  Such is, Armida, my last prayer to thee,

  And on this distant solitary shore

  For ever buried let their memory be;

  Of all my deeds be this alone forgot,

  Nor in the world exist of it one trace;

  And, ah, permit no ignominious blot