Jersusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  His age was full of puissance and might

  Two sons he had to guard his noble eild,

  The first, far from his father's care and sight,

  Called Alicandro wounded lay in field,

  And Poliphern the younger, by his side,

  Had he not nobly fought had surely died.

  Tancred by this, that strove to overtake

  The villain that had hurt his only dear,

  From vain pursuit at last returnéd back,

  And his brave troop discomfit saw well near,

  Thither he spurred, and gan huge slaughter make,

  His shock no steed, his blow no knight could bear,

  For dead he strikes him whom he lights upon,

  So thunders break high trees on Lebanon.

  Dudon his squadron of adventurers brings,

  To aid the worthy and his tirèd crew,

  Before the residue young Rinaldo flings

  As swift as fiery lightning kindled new,

  His argent eagle with her silver wings

  In field of azure, fair Erminia knew,

  "See there, sir King," she says, "a knight as bold

  And brave, as was the son of Peleus old.

  "He wins the prize in joust and tournament,

  His acts are numberless, though few his years,

  If Europe six like him to war had sent

  Among these thousand strong of Christian peers,

  Syria were lost, lost were the Orient,

  And all the lands the Southern Ocean wears,

  Conquered were all hot Afric's tawny kings,

  And all that dwells by Nilus' unknown springs.

  "Rinaldo is his name, his arméd fist

  Breaks down stone walls, when rams and engines fail,

  But turn your eyes because I would you wist

  What lord that is in green and golden mail,

  Dudon he hight who guideth as him list

  The adventurers' troop whose prowess seld doth fail,

  High birth, grave years, and practice long in war,

  And fearless heart, make him renownéd far.

  "See that big man that all in brown is bound,

  Gernando called, the King of Norway's son,

  A prouder knight treads not on grass or ground,

  His pride hath lost the praise his prowess won;

  And that kind pair in white all arméd round,

  Is Edward and Gildippes, who begun

  Through love the hazard of fierce war to prove,

  Famous for arms, but famous more for love."

  While thus they tell their foemen's worthiness,

  The slaughter rageth in the plain at large.

  Tancred and young Rinaldo break the press,

  They bruise the helm, and press the sevenfold targe;

  The troop by Dudon led performed no less,

  But in they come and give a furious charge:

  Argantes' self fell at one single blow,

  Inglorious, bleeding lay, on earth full low:

  Nor had the boaster ever risen more,

  But that Rinaldo's horse e'en then down fell,

  And with the fall his leg opprest so sore,

  That for a space there must he algates dwell.

  Meanwhile the Pagan troops were nigh forlore,

  Swiftly they fled, glad they escaped so well,

  Argantes and with him Clorinda stout,

  For bank and bulwark served to save the rout.

  These fled the last, and with their force sustained

  The Christians' rage, that followed them so near;

  Their scattered troops to safety well they trained,

  And while the residue fled, the brunt these bear;

  Dudon pursued the victory he gained,

  And on Tigranes nobly broke his spear,

  Then with his sword headless to ground him cast,

  So gardeners branches lop that spring too fast.

  Algazar's breastplate, of fine temper made,

  Nor Corban's helmet, forged by magic art,

  Could save their owners, for Lord Dudon's blade

  Cleft Corban's head, and pierced Algazar's heart,

  And their proud souls down to the infernal shade,

  From Amurath and Mahomet depart;

  Not strong Argantes thought his life was sure,

  He could not safely fly, nor fight secure.

  The angry Pagan bit his lips for teen,

  He ran, he stayed, he fled, he turned again,

  Until at last unmarked, unviewed, unseen,

  When Dudon had Almansor newly slain,

  Within his side he sheathed his weapon keen,

  Down fell the worthy on the dusty plain,

  And lifted up his feeble eyes uneath,

  Opprest with leaden sleep, of iron death.

  Three times he strove to view Heaven's golden ray,

  And raised him on his feeble elbow thrice,

  And thrice he tumbled on the lowly lay,

  And three times closed again his dying eyes,

  He speaks no word, yet makes his signs to pray;

  He sighs, he faints, he groans, and then he dies;

  Argantes proud to spoil the corpse disdained,

  But shook his sword with blood of Dudon stained.

  And turning to the Christian knights, he cried:

  "Lordlings, behold, this bloody reeking blade

  Last night was given me by your noble guide,

  Tell him what proof thereof this day is made,

  Needs must this please him well that is betide,

  That I so well can use this martial trade,

  To whom so rare a gift he did present,

  Tell him the workman fits the instrument.

  "If further proof thereof he long to see,

  Say it still thirsts, and would his heart-blood drink;

  And if he haste not to encounter me,

  Say I will find him when he least doth think."

  The Christians at his words enragéd be,

  But he to shun their ire doth safely shrink

  Under the shelter of the neighbor wall,

  Well guarded with his troops and soldiers all.

  Like storms of hail the stones fell down from high,

  Cast from their bulwarks, flankers, ports and towers,

  The shafts and quarries from their engines fly,

  As thick as falling drops in April showers:

  The French withdrew, they list not press too nigh,

  The Saracens escapéd all the powers,

  But now Rinaldo from the earth upleapt,

  Where by the leg his steed had long him kept;

  He came and breathéd vengeance from his breast

  'Gainst him that noble Dudon late had slain;

  And being come thus spake he to the rest,

  "Warriors, why stand you gazing here in vain?

  Pale death our valiant leader had opprest,

  Come wreak his loss, whom bootless you complain.

  Those walls are weak, they keep but cowards out

  No rampier can withstand a courage stout.

  "Of double iron, brass or adamant,

  Or if this wall were built of flaming fire,

  Yet should the Pagan vile a fortress want

  To shroud his coward head safe from mine ire;

  Come follow then, and bid base fear avaunt,

  The harder work deserves the greater hire;"

  And with that word close to the walls he starts,

  Nor fears he arrows, quarries, stones or darts.

  Above the waves as Neptune lift his eyes

  To chide the winds, that Trojan ships opprest,

  And with his countenance calmed seas, winds and skies;

  So looked Rinaldo, when he shook his crest

  Before those walls, each Pagan fears and flies

  His dreadful sight, or trembling stayed at least:

  Such dread his awful visage on them cast.

  So seem poor doves at go
shawks' sight aghast.

  The herald Ligiere now from Godfrey came,

  To will them stay and calm their courage hot;

  "Retire," quoth he, "Godfrey commands the same;

  To wreak your ire this season fitteth not;"

  Though loth, Rinaldo stayed, and stopped the flame,

  That boiléd in his hardy stomach hot;

  His bridled fury grew thereby more fell,

  So rivers, stopped, above their banks do swell.

  The bands retire, not dangered by their foes

  In their retreat, so wise were they and wary,

  To murdered Dudon each lamenting goes,

  From wonted use of ruth they list not vary.

  Upon their friendly arms they soft impose

  The noble burden of his corpse to carry:

  Meanwhile Godfredo from a mountain great

  Beheld the sacred city and her seat.

  Hierusalem is seated on two hills

  Of height unlike, and turnéd side to side,

  The space between, a gentle valley fills,

  From mount to mount expanséd fair and wide.

  Three sides are sure imbarred with crags and hills,

  The rest is easy, scant to rise espied:

  But mighty bulwarks fence that plainer part,

  So art helps nature, nature strengtheneth art.

  The town is stored of troughs and cisterns, made

  To keep fresh water, but the country seems

  Devoid of grass, unfit for ploughmen's trade,

  Not fertile, moist with rivers, wells and streams;

  There grow few trees to make the summer's shade,

  To shield the parchéd land from scorching beams,

  Save that a wood stands six miles from the town,

  With agéd cedars dark, and shadows brown.

  By east, among the dusty valleys, glide

  The silver streams of Jordan's crystal flood;

  By west, the Midland Sea, with bounders tied

  Of sandy shores, where Joppa whilom stood;

  By north Samaria stands, and on that side

  The golden calf was reared in Bethel wood;

  Bethlem by south, where Christ incarnate was,

  A pearl in steel, a diamond set in brass.

  While thus the Duke on every side described

  The city's strength, the walls and gates about,

  And saw where least the same was fortified,

  Where weakest seemed the walls to keep him out;

  Erminia as he arméd rode, him spied,

  And thus bespake the heathen tyrant stout,

  "See Godfrey there, in purple clad and gold,

  His stately port, and princely look behold.

  "Well seems he born to be with honor crowned,

  So well the lore he knows of regiment,

  Peerless in fight, in counsel grave and sound,

  The double gift of glory excellent,

  Among these armies is no warrior found

  Graver in speech, bolder in tournament.

  Raymond pardie in counsel match him might;

  Tancred and young Rinaldo like in fight."

  To whom the king: "He likes me well therefore,

  I knew him whilom in the court of France

  When I from Egypt went ambassador,

  I saw him there break many a sturdy lance,

  And yet his chin no sign of manhood bore;

  His youth was forward, but with governance,

  His words, his actions, and his portance brave,

  Of future virtue, timely tokens gave.

  "Presages, ah too true:" with that a space

  He sighed for grief, then said, "Fain would I know

  The man in red, with such a knightly grace,

  A worthy lord he seemeth by his show,

  How like to Godfrey looks he in the face,

  How like in person! but some-deal more low."

  "Baldwin," quoth she, "that noble baron hight,

  By birth his brother, and his match in might.

  "Next look on him that seems for counsel fit,

  Whose silver locks betray his store of days,

  Raymond he hight, a man of wondrous wit,

  Of Toulouse lord, his wisdom is his praise;

  What he forethinks doth, as he looks for, hit,

  His stratagems have good success always:

  With gilded helm beyond him rides the mild

  And good Prince William, England's king's dear child.

  With him is Guelpho, as his noble mate,

  In birth, in acts, in arms alike the rest,

  I know him well, since I beheld him late,

  By his broad shoulders and his squaréd breast:

  But my proud foe that quite hath ruinate

  My high estate, and Antioch opprest,

  I see not, Boemond, that to death did bring

  Mine agéd lord, my father, and my king."

  Thus talkéd they; meanwhile Godfredo went

  Down to the troops that in the valley stayed,

  And for in vain he thought the labor spent,

  To assail those parts that to the mountains laid,

  Against the northern gate his force he bent,

  Gainst it he camped, gainst it his engines played;

  All felt the fury of his angry power,

  That from those gates lies to the corner tower.

  The town's third part was this, or little less,

  Fore which the duke his glorious ensigns spread,

  For so great compass had that forteress,

  That round it could not be environéd

  With narrow siege—nor Babel's king I guess

  That whilom took it, such an army led—

  But all the ways he kept, by which his foe

  Might to or from the city come or go.

  His care was next to cast the trenches deep,

  So to preserve his resting camp by night,

  Lest from the city while his soldiers sleep

  They might assail them with untimely fight.

  This done he went where lords and princes weep

  With dire complaints about the murdered knight,

  Where Dudon dead lay slaughtered on the ground.

  And all the soldiers sat lamenting round.

  His wailing friends adorned the mournful bier

  With woful pomp, whereon his corpse they laid,

  And when they saw the Bulloigne prince draw near,

  All felt new grief, and each new sorrow made;

  But he, withouten show or change of cheer,

  His springing tears within their fountains stayed,

  His rueful looks upon the corpse he cast

  Awhile, and thus bespake the same at last:

  "We need not mourn for thee, here laid to rest,

  Earth is thy bed, and not the grave the skies

  Are for thy soul the cradle and the nest,

  There live, for here thy glory never dies:

  For like a Christian knight and champion blest

  Thou didst both live and die: now feed thine eyes

  With thy Redeemer's sight, where crowned with bliss

  Thy faith, zeal, merit, well-deserving is.

  "Our loss, not thine, provokes these plaints and tears:

  For when we lost thee, then our ship her mast,

  Our chariot lost her wheels, their points our spears,

  The bird of conquest her chief feather cast:

  But though thy death far from our army bears

  Her chiefest earthly aid, in heaven yet placed

  Thou wilt procure us help Divine, so reaps

  He that sows godly sorrow, joy by heaps.

  "For if our God the Lord Armipotent

  Those arméd angels in our aid down send

  That were at Dothan to his prophet sent,

  Thou wilt come down with them, and well defend

  Our host, and with thy sacred weapons bent

  Gainst Sion's fort, these gates and bul
warks rend,

  That so by hand may win this hold, and we

  May in these temples praise our Christ for thee."

  Thus he complained; but now the sable shade

  Yclepéd night, had thick envelopéd

  The sun in veil of double darkness made;

  Sleep, easéd care; rest, brought complaint to bed:

  All night the wary duke devising laid

  How that high wall should best be batteréd,

  How his strong engines he might aptly frame,

  And whence get timber fit to build the same.

  Up with the lark the sorrowful duke arose,

  A mourner chief at Dudon's burial,

  Of cypress sad a pile his friends compose

  Under a hill o'ergrown with cedars tall,

  Beside the hearse a fruitful palm-tree grows,

  Ennobled since by this great funeral,

  Where Dudon's corpse they softly laid in ground,

  The priest sung hymns, the soldiers wept around.

  Among the boughs, they here and there bestow

  Ensigns and arms, as witness of his praise,

  Which he from Pagan lords, that did them owe,

  Had won in prosperous fights and happy frays:

  His shield they fixéd on the bole below,

  And there this distich under-writ, which says,

  "This palm with stretchéd arms, doth overspread

  The champion Dudon's glorious carcase dead."

  This work performéd with advisement good,

  Godfrey his carpenters, and men of skill

  In all the camp, sent to an agéd wood,

  With convoy meet to guard them safe from ill.

  Within a valley deep this forest stood,

  To Christian eyes unseen, unknown, until

  A Syrian told the duke, who thither sent

  Those chosen workmen that for timber went.

  And now the axe raged in the forest wild,

  The echo sighéd in the groves unseen,

  The weeping nymphs fled from their bowers exiled,

  Down fell the shady tops of shaking treen,

  Down came the sacred palms, the ashes wild,

  The funeral cypress, holly ever green,

  The weeping fir, thick beech, and sailing pine,

  The married elm fell with his fruitful vine.

  The shooter yew, the broad-leaved sycamore,

  The barren plantain, and the walnut sound,

  The myrrh, that her foul sin doth still deplore,

  The alder owner of all waterish ground,

  Sweet juniper, whose shadow hurteth sore,

  Proud cedar, oak, the king of forests crowned;

  Thus fell the trees, with noise the deserts roar;

  The beasts, their caves, the birds, their nests forlore.

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  Fourth Book

  THE ARGUMENT

  Satan his fiends and spirits assembleth all,