Butt worthy only of the shafts of love.
She, dropping suddenly the bridle rein,
Appeared to droop — to perish; her sad fate
Her Edward saw, and spurring on amain,
Not tardy was, but most unfortunate.
XCVII.
Che far dee nel gran caso? ira e pietade
A varie parti in un tempo l’affretta.
Questa, all’appoggio del suo ben che cade:
772 Quella, a pigliar del percussor vendetta.
Amore indifferente il persuade
Che non sia l’ira o la pietà negletta.
Con la sinistra man corre al sostegno,
776 L’altra ministra ei fa del suo disdegno.
XCVII
What should he do? to diverse parts him call
Just ire and pity kind, one bids him go
And succor his dear lady, like to fall,
The other calls for vengeance on his foe;
Love biddeth both, love says he must do all,
And with his ire joins grief, with pity woe.
What did he then? with his left hand the knight
Would hold her up, revenge her with his right.
XCVII
What in that dire dilemma should he do?
As rage and pity urge him different ways;
That, to revenge himself on him who slew,
This, his dear falling treasure to upraise;
But Love, impartial, showed him how he might
Neither compassion nor revenge neglect:
To vent his anger he employed his right,
And his left arm Gildippe to protect.
XCVIII.
Ma voler e poter che si divida,
Bastar non può contra il Pagan sì forte:
Tal che nè sostien lei, nè l’omicida
780 Della dolce alma sua conduce a morte.
Anzi avvien che ‘l Soldano a lui recida
Il braccio, appoggio alla fedel consorte;
Onde cader lasciolla: ed egli presse
784 Le membra a lei con le sue membra stesse.
XCVIII
But to resist against a knight so bold
Too weak his will and power divided were;
So that he could not his fair love uphold,
Nor kill the cruel man that slew his dear.
His arm that did his mistress kind enfold,
The Turk cut off, pale grew his looks and cheer,
He let her fall, himself fell by her side,
And, for he could not save her, with her died.
XCVIII
But power and will divided thus in twain,
Powerless against the stalwart Pagan proved,
Since her he could not in the selle sustain,
Nor slay the homicide of his beloved;
Nay, it so happened that the soldan lopped
His left arm off, which had Gildippe stayed,
Disabled whence his precious charge he dropped,
And on her own, his limbs at full length laid.
XCIX.
Come olmo a cui la pampinosa pianta
Cupida s’avviticchi, e si marite;
Se ferro il tronca, o turbine lo schianta,
788 Trae seco a terra la compagna vite:
Ed egli stesso il verde, onde s’ammanta,
Le sfronda, e pesta l’uve sue gradite:
Par che sen dolga, e più che ‘l proprio fato,
792 Di lei gl’incresca che gli muore a lato.
XCIX
As the high elm, whom his dear vine hath twined
Fast in her hundred arms and holds embraced,
Bears down to earth his spouse and darling kind
If storm or cruel steel the tree down cast,
And her full grapes to naught doth bruise and grind,
Spoils his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last,
And seems to mourn and die, not for his own,
But for her death, with him that lies o’erthrown:
XCIX
Like elm, to whom die married vine’s frail form
Clings for support, and twines enamoured round,
If felled by axe or rooted up by storm,
Drags with himself his consort to the ground,
Stripping the leaves, and crushing ‘neath his weight
The grapes and green apparel of his bride;
He seems to grieve far more than for his fate,
For her who falls unmurmuring at his side.
C.
Così cade egli; e sol di lei gli duole,
Che ‘l Cielo eterna sua compagna fece.
Vorrian formar, nè pon formar parole:
796 Forman sospiri di parole in vece.
L’un mira l’altro: e l’un, pur come suole,
Si stringe all’altro, mentre ancor ciò lece:
E si cela in un punto ad ambi il díe:
800 E congiunte sen van l’anime píe.
C
So fell he mourning, mourning for the dame
Whom life and death had made forever his;
They would have spoke, but not one word could frame,
Deep sobs their speech, sweet sighs their language is,
Each gazed on other’s eyes, and while the same
Is lawful, join their hands, embrace and kiss:
And thus sharp death their knot of life untied,
Together fainted they, together died.
C
Thus Edward fell, for her alone he grieved,
Whom heaven had made his partner unto death;
They tried to speak, but could not, they but heaved
Sighs indistinct, as failed their waning breath;
Each gazed on each, each pressed the other, loth
To part, while ebbing life within them lay,
When in a moment darkness shrouded both,
And their pure souls together passed away.
CI.
Allor scioglie la Fama i vanni al volo,
Le lingue al grido, e ‘l duro caso accerta:
Nè pur n’ode Rinaldo il romor solo,
804 Ma da un messaggio ancor nova più certa.
Sdegno, dover, benevolenza, e duolo
Fan che all’alta vendetta ei si converta.
Ma il sentier gli attraversa, e fa contrasto
808 Sugli occhj del Soldano il grande Adrasto.
CI
But now swift fame her nimble wings dispread,
And told eachwhere their chance, their fate, their fall,
Rinaldo heard the case, by one that fled
From the fierce Turk and brought him news of all.
Disdain, good-will, woe, wrath the champion led
To take revenge; shame, grief, for vengeance call;
But as he went, Adrastus with his blade
Forestalled the way, and show of combat made.
CI
Fame then unloosed her tongues, and spread for flight
Her airy pinions, and their fate affirmed;
Nor from Fame only heard Rinaldo it,
Its truth a special messenger confirmed:
Within him grief, benevolence, and wrath,
Combined with duty, for deep vengeance cried,
When the fierce king, Adrastus, crossed his path,
And in the soldants presence him defied;
CII.
Gridava il Re feroce: ai segni noti
Tu sei pur quegli alfin ch’io cerco e bramo.
Scudo non è ch’io non riguardi e noti,
812 Ed a nome tutt’oggi invan ti chiamo.
Or solverò della vendetta i voti
Col tuo capo al mio Nume. Omai facciamo
Di valor, di furor quì paragone,
816 Tu nemico d’Armida, ed io campione.
CII
The giant cried, “By sundry signs I note
That whom I wish, I search, thou, thou art he,
I marked each worthy’s shield, his helm, his coat,
And all this day have called and cri
ed for thee,
To my sweet saint I have thy head devote,
Thou must my sacrifice, my offering be,
Come let us here our strength and courage try,
Thou art Armida’s foe, her champion I.”
CII
Shouting aloud: ‘By well-known signs thou art he
Whom I pursue, and burn to meet again;
Shield there is not but I have scanned, and thee
Have called by name the livelong day in vain;
Now, to my goddess will I pay my vow
Of vengeance with thy head. Turn, then, and try
By proof our valour, nay, our fury, thou
Armida’s foeman, her defender I.’
CIII.
Così lo sfida; e di percosse orrende
Pria sulla tempia il fere, indi nel collo.
L’elmo fatal (chè non si può) non fende,
820 Ma lo scuote in arcion con più d’un crollo.
Rinaldo lui sul fianco in guisa offende,
Che vana vi saria l’arte d’Apollo.
Cade l’uom smisurato, il Rege invitto:
824 E n’è l’onore ad un sol colpo ascritto.
CIII
Thus he defied him, on his front before,
And on his throat he struck him, yet the blow
His helmet neither bruised, cleft nor tore,
But in his saddle made him bend and bow;
Rinaldo hit him on the flank so sore,
That neither art nor herb could help him now;
Down fell the giant strong, one blow such power,
Such puissance had; so falls a thundered tower.
CIII
Thus challenged him and dealt a desperate stroke,
First on his temples, then his neck, nor clave
His helmet, that no mortal arm had broke,
But to his saddle-bow Rinaldo drave;
Who in the side Adrastus wounded so,
That vain the aid Apollo’s art could bring,
Whence fell (the honour due to one sole blow)
The monstrous mortal, the unconquered king.
CIV.
Lo stupor, di spavento e d’orror misto,
Il sangue e i cori ai circostanti agghiaccia:
E Soliman, ch’estranio colpo ha visto,
828 Nel cor si turba e impallidisce in faccia.
E, chiaramente il suo morir previsto,
Non si risolve e non sa quel che faccia:
Cosa insolita in lui: ma chè non regge
832 Degli affari quaggiù l’eterna legge?
CIV
With horror, fear, amazedness and dread,
Cold were the hearts of all that saw the fray,
And Solyman, that viewed that noble deed,
Trembled, his paleness did his fear bewray;
For in that stroke he did his end areed,
He wist not what to think, to do, to say,
A thing in him unused, rare and strange,
But so doth heaven men’s hearts turn, alter, change.
CIV
Horror and mute amazement, blent with awe,
The hearts and blood of the bystanders froze;
And Solymano, when that stroke he saw,
Perturbed became at heart — his colour goes,
And clearly seeing his impending doom,
Could not determine what ‘twere best to do;
For him unusual circumstance, but whom
On earth do not Heaven’s laws eterne subdue.
CV.
Come vede talor torbidi sogni
Ne’ brevi sonni suoi l’egro o l’insano:
Pargli ch’al corso avidamente agogni
836 Stender le membra, e che s’affanni invano:
Che ne’ maggiori sforzi, a’ suoi bisogni
Non corrisponde il piè stanco, e la mano.
Scioglier talor la lingua, e parlar vuole;
840 Ma non segue la voce, o le parole.
CV
As when the sick or frantic men oft dream
In their unquiet sleep and slumber short,
And think they run some speedy course, and seem
To move their legs and feet in hasty sort,
Yet feel their limbs far slower than the stream
Of their vain thoughts that bears them in this sport,
And oft would speak, would cry, would call or shout,
Yet neither sound, nor voice, nor word send out:
CV
As in their fitful slumbers the insane,
Or sick, at times strange troublous visions see,
Now they desire to run, and stretch, and strain
Their limbs, with desperate but vain energy,
Since to the greatest efforts which they make,
Responds not palsied hand or nerveless foot;
Now they would loose the tongue and try to speak,
But no words follow, and the voice is mute.
CVI.
Così allora il Soldan vorria rapire
Pur se stesso all’assalto, e se ne sforza;
Ma non conosce in se le solite ire,
844 Nè sè conosce alla scemata forza.
Quante scintille in lui sorgon d’ardire,
Tante un secreto suo terror n’ammorza.
Volgonsi nel suo cor diversi sensi:
848 Non che fuggir, non che ritrarsi pensi.
CVI
So run to fight the angry Soldan would,
And did enforce his strength, his might, his ire,
Yet felt not in himself his courage old,
His wonted force, his rage and hot desire,
His eyes, that sparkled wrath and fury bold,
Grew dim and feeble, fear had quenched that fire,
And in his heart an hundred passions fought,
Yet none on fear or base retire he thought.
CVI
So would the soldan force himself to engage
The Christian prince, and strove and struggled too,
But knew not in himself his wonted rage,
For ev’n himself in his spent forces knew;
What sparks of courage rose within him, were
Quenched by a sense of supernatural fright;
Still, though perplexed his bosom was, he ne’er.
Thought of submission, and still less of flight.
CVII.
Giunge all’irresoluto il vincitore:
E in arrivando (o che gli pare) avanza
E di velocitade, e di furore,
852 E di grandezza ogni mortal sembianza.
Poco ripugna quel; pur, mentre muore,
Già non oblia la generosa usanza.
Non fugge i colpi, e gemito non spande:
856 Nè atto fa, se non se altero e grande.
CVII
While unresolved he stood, the victor knight
Arrived, and seemed in quickness, haste and speed,
In boldness, greatness, goodliness and might,
Above all princes born of human seed:
The Turk small while resists, not death nor fight
Made him forget his state or race, through dreed,
He fled no strokes, he fetched no groan nor sigh,
Bold were his motions last, proud, stately, high.
CVII
The victor reached the irresolute Turk at last,
And on up-coming (so it seemed to him)
Likeness to aught of mortal mould surpassed,
In fury, speed, and magnitude of limb;
Little resisted he, nor, as he died,
Uttered one groan, or ever blenched the brand;
With every generous usage he complied,
Nor act performed that was not great and grand.
CVIII.
Poi che ‘l Soldan che spesso in lunga guerra,
Quasi novello Anteo, cadde e risorse
Più fero ogn’ora, alfin calcò la terra
860 Per giacer sempre: intorno il suon ne corse.
E Fortuna, che varia e instabil erra
,
Più non osò por la vittoria in forse.
Ma fermò i giri, e sotto i Duci stessi
864 S’unì co’ Franchi, e militò con essi.
CVIII
Now when the Soldan, in these battles past
That Antheus-like oft fell oft rose again,
Evermore fierce, more fell, fell down at last
To lie forever, when this prince was slain,
Fortune, that seld is stable, firm or fast,
No longer durst resist the Christian train,
But ranged herself in row with Godfrey’s knights,
With them she serves, she runs, she rides, she fights.
CVIII
But when the soldan, who in battles past
Oft fell, and, like Antæus, rose anew
More fierce than ever, pressed the ground at last
To rise no more, around the rumour flew:
And Fortune, light and fickle tho’ she be,
No longer durst the victory leave in doubt,
But stayed her wheel, and ‘neath their leaders she
Joined the Frank forces, and on their side fought.
CIX.
Fugge, non ch’altri, omai la regia schiera,
Ov’è dell’Oriente accolto il nerbo.
Già fu detta immortale; or vien che pera
868 Ad onta di quel titolo superbo.
Emireno a colui che ha la bandiera
Tronca la fuga, e parla in modo acerbo:
Non se’ tu quel ch’a sostener gli eccelsi
872 Segni dei mio Signor fra mille i’ scelsi?
CIX
The Pagan troops, the king’s own squadron fled,
Of all the east, the strength, the pride, the flower,
Late called Immortal, now discomfited,
It lost that title proud, and lost all power;
To him that with the royal standard fled,
Thus Emireno said, with speeches sour,
“Art not thou he to whom to bear I gave
My king’s great banner, and his standard brave?
CIX
The imperial guard now joined the rest in flight;
Formed of the pith and marrow of the East,
Once styled immortal ’twas, but now, in spite
Of that haught title, to exist it ceased.
The captain seeing its standard-bearer fly,
Stopped and addressed him in this galling strain:
‘Art thou not he whom, among thousands, I
Selected my lord’s standard to sustain?
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