Jersusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

The first of ten, that lies next Afric's shore;

  When Charlés thus, "If, worthy governess,

  To our good speed such tarriance be no let,

  Upon this isle that Heaven so fair doth bless,

  To view the place, on land awhile us set,

  To know the folk and what God they confess,

  And all whereby man's heart may knowledge get,

  That I may tell the wonders therein seen

  Another day, and say, there have I been."

  She answered him, "Well fits this high desire

  Thy noble heart, yet cannot I consent;

  For Heaven's decree, firm, stable, and entire,

  Thy wish repugns, and gainst thy will is bent,

  Nor yet the time hath Titan's gliding fire

  Met forth, prefixed for this discoverment,

  Nor is it lawful of the ocean main

  That you the secrets know, or known explain.

  "To you withouten needle, map or card

  It's given to pass these seas, and there arrive

  Where in strong prison lies your knight imbarred,

  And of her prey you must the witch deprive:

  If further to aspire you be prepared,

  In vain gainst fate and Heaven's decree you strive."

  While thus she said, the first seen isle gave place,

  And high and rough the second showed his face.

  They saw how eastward stretched in order long,

  The happy islands sweetly flowering lay;

  And how the seas betwixt those isles enthrong,

  And how they shouldered land from land away:

  In seven of them the people rude among

  The shady trees their sheds had built of clay,

  The rest lay waste, unless wild beasts unseen,

  Or wanton nymphs, roamed on the mountains green.

  A secret place they found in one of those,

  Where the cleft shore sea in his bosom takes,

  And 'twixt his stretchéd arms doth fold and close

  An ample bay, a rock the haven makes,

  Which to the main doth his broad back oppose,

  Whereon the roaring billow cleaves and breaks,

  And here and there two crags like turrets high,

  Point forth a port to all that sail thereby:

  The quiet seas below lie safe and still,

  The green wood like a garland grows aloft,

  Sweet caves within, cool shades and waters shrill,

  Where lie the nymphs on moss and ivy soft;

  No anchor there needs hold her frigate still,

  Nor cable twisted sure, though breaking oft:

  Into this desert, silent, quiet, glad,

  Entered the dame, and there her haven made.

  "The palace proudly built," quoth she, "behold,

  That sits on top of yonder mountain's height,

  Of Christ's true faith there lies the champion bold

  In idleness, love, fancy, folly light;

  When Phœbus shall his rising beams unfold,

  Prepare you against the hill to mount upright,

  Nor let this stay in your bold hearts breed care,

  For, save that one, all hours unlucky are;

  "But yet this evening, if you make good speed,

  To that hill's foot with daylight might you pass."

  Thus said the dame their guide, and they agreed,

  And took their leave and leaped forth on the grass;

  They found the way that to the hill doth lead,

  And softly went that neither tiréd was,

  But at the mountain's foot they both arrived,

  Before the sun his team in waters dived.

  They saw how from the crags and clefts below

  His proud and stately pleasant top grew out,

  And how his sides were clad with frost and snow,

  The height was green with herbs and flowerets sout,

  Like hairy locks the trees about him grow,

  The rocks of ice keep watch and ward about,

  The tender roses and the lilies new,

  Thus art can nature change, and kind subdue.

  Within a thick, a dark and shady plot,

  At the hill's foot that night the warriors dwell,

  But when the sun his rays bright, shining, hot,

  Dispread of golden light the eternal well,

  "Up, up," they cried, and fiercely up they got,

  And climbéd boldly gainst the mountain fell;

  But forth there crept, from whence I cannot say,

  An ugly serpent which forestalled their way.

  Arméd with golden scales his head and crest

  He lifted high, his neck swelled great with ire,

  Flaméd his eyes, and hiding with his breast

  All the broad path, he poison breathed and fire,

  Now reached he forth in folds and forward pressed,

  Now would he back in rolls and heaps retire,

  Thus he presents himself to guard the place,

  The knights pressed forward with assuréd pace:

  Charlés drew forth his brand to strike the snake;

  Ubaldo cried, "Stay, my companion dear,

  Will you with sword or weapon battle make

  Against this monster that affronts us here?"

  This said, he gan his charméd rod to shake,

  So that the serpent durst not hiss for fear,

  But fled, and dead for dread fell on the grass,

  And so the passage plain, eath, open was.

  A little higher on the way they met

  A lion fierce that hugely roared and cried,

  His crest he rearéd high, and open set

  Of his broad-gaping jaws the furnace wide,

  His stern his back oft smote, his rage to whet,

  But when the sacred staff he once espied

  A trembling fear through his bold heart was spread,

  His native wrath was gone, and swift he fled.

  The hardy couple on their way forth wend,

  And met a host that on them roar and gape,

  Of savage beasts, tofore unseen, unkend,

  Differing in voice, in semblance, and in shape;

  All monsters which hot Afric doth forthsend,

  Twixt Nilus, Atlas, and the southern cape,

  Were all there met, and all wild beasts besides

  Hyrcania breeds, or Hyrcane forest hides.

  But yet that fierce, that strange and savage host

  Could not in presence of those worthies stand,

  But fled away, their heart and courage lost,

  When Lord Ubaldo shook his charming wand.

  No other let their passage stopped or crossed;

  Till on the mountain's top themselves they fand,

  Save that the ice, the frost, and drifted snow,

  Oft made them feeble, weary, faint and slow.

  But having passéd all that frozen ground,

  And overgone that winter sharp and keen,

  A warm, mild, pleasant, gentle sky they found,

  That overspread a large and ample green,

  The winds breathed spikenard, myrrh, and balm around,

  The blasts were firm, unchangéd, stable been,

  Not as elsewhere the winds now rise now fall,

  And Phœbus there aye shines, sets not at all.

  Not as elsewhere now sunshine bright now showers,

  Now heat now cold, there interchangéd were,

  But everlasting spring mild heaven down pours,—

  In which nor rain, nor storm, nor clouds appear,—

  Nursing to fields, their grass; to grass, his flowers;

  To flowers their smell; to trees, the leaves they bear:

  There by a lake a stately palace stands,

  That overlooks all mountains, seas and lands:

  The passage hard against the mountain steep

  These travellers had faint and weary made,

  That through those grassy plains they
scantly creep;

  They walked, they rested oft, they went, they stayed,

  When from the rocks, that seemed for joy to weep,

  Before their feet a dropping crystal played

  Enticing them to drink, and on the flowers

  The plenteous spring a thousand streams down pours,

  All which, united in the springing grass,

  Ate forth a channel through the tender green

  And underneath eternal shade did pass,

  With murmur shrill, cold, pure, and scantly seen;

  Yet so transparent, that perceivéd was

  The bottom rich, and sands that golden been,

  And on the brims the silken grass aloft

  Proffered them seats, sweet, easy, fresh and soft.

  "See here the stream of laughter, see the spring,"

  Quoth they, "of danger and of deadly pain,

  Here fond desire must by fair governing

  Be ruled, our lust bridled with wisdom's rein,

  Our ears be stoppéd while these Sirens sing,

  Their notes enticing man to pleasure vain."

  Thus passed they forward where the stream did make

  An ample pond, a large and spacious lake.

  There on a table was all dainty food

  That sea, that earth, or liquid air could give,

  And in the crystal of the laughing flood

  They saw two naked virgins bathe and dive,

  That sometimes toying, sometimes wrestling stood,

  Sometimes for speed and skill in swimming strive,

  Now underneath they dived, now rose above,

  And ticing baits laid forth of lust and love.

  These naked wantons, tender, fair and white,

  Movéd so far the warriors' stubborn hearts,

  That on their shapes they gazéd with delight;

  The nymphs applied their sweet alluring arts,

  And one of them above the waters quite,

  Lift up her head, her breasts and higher parts,

  And all that might weak eyes subdue and take,

  Her lower beauties veiled the gentle lake.

  As when the morning star, escaped and fled

  From greedy waves, with dewy beams up flies,

  Or as the Queen of Love, new born and bred

  Of the Ocean's fruitful froth, did first arise:

  So vented she her golden locks forth shed

  Round pearls and crystal moist therein which lies:

  But when her eyes upon the knights she cast,

  She start, and feigned her of their sight aghast.

  And her fair locks, that in a knot were tied

  High on her crown, she 'gan at large unfold;

  Which falling long and thick and spreading wide,

  The ivory soft and white mantled in gold:

  Thus her fair skin the dame would clothe and hide,

  And that which hid it no less fair was hold;

  Thus clad in waves and locks, her eyes divine,

  From them ashaméd did she turn and twine.

  Withal she smiléd and she blushed withal,

  Her blush, her smiling, smiles her blushing graced:

  Over her face her amber tresses fall,

  Whereunder Love himself in ambush placed:

  At last she warbled forth a treble small,

  And with sweet looks her sweet songs interlaced;

  "Oh happy men! that have the grace," quoth she,

  "This bliss, this heaven, this paradise to see.

  "This is the place wherein you may assuage

  Your sorrows past, here is that joy and bliss

  That flourished in the antique golden age,

  Here needs no law, here none doth aught amiss:

  Put off those arms and fear not Mars his rage,

  Your sword, your shield, your helmet needless is;

  Then consecrate them here to endless rest,

  You shall love's champions be, and soldiers blest.

  "The fields for combat here are beds of down,

  Or heapéd lilies under shady brakes;

  But come and see our queen with golden crown,

  That all her servants blest and happy makes,

  She will admit you gently for her own,

  Numbered with those that of her joy partakes:

  But first within this lake your dust and sweat

  Wash off, and at that table sit and eat."

  While thus she sung, her sister lured them nigh

  With many a gesture kind and loving show,

  To music's sound as dames in court apply

  Their cunning feet, and dance now swift now slow:

  But still the knights unmovéd passéd by,

  These vain delights for wicked charms they know,

  Nor could their heavenly voice or angel's look,

  Surprise their hearts, if eye or ear they took.

  For if that sweetness once but touched their hearts,

  And proffered there to kindle Cupid's fire,

  Straight arméd Reason to his charge up starts,

  And quencheth Lust, and killeth fond Desire;

  Thus scornéd were the dames, their wiles and arts

  And to the palace gates the knights retire,

  While in their stream the damsels divéd sad,

  Ashamed, disgraced, for that repulse they had.

  | Go to Contents |

  Sixteenth Book

  THE ARGUMENT

  The searchers pass through all the palace bright

  Where in sweet prison lies Rinaldo pent,

  And do so much, that full of rage and spite,

  With them he goes sad, shaméd, discontent:

  With plaints and prayers to retain her knight

  Armida strives; he hears, but thence he went,

  And she forlorn her palace great and fair

  Destroys for grief, and flies thence through the air.

  THE palace great is builded rich and round,

  And in the centre of the inmost hold

  There lies a garden sweet, on fertile ground,

  Fairer than that where grew the trees of gold:

  The cunning sprites had buildings reared around

  With doors and entries false a thousandfold,

  A labyrinth they made that fortress brave,

  Like Dædal's prison, or Porsenna's grave.

  The knights passed through the castle's largest gate,

  Though round about an hundred ports there shine,

  The door-leaves framed of carvéd silver-plate,

  Upon their golden hinges turn and twine.

  They stayed to view this work of wit and state.

  The workmanship excelled the substance fine,

  For all the shapes in that rich metal wrought,

  Save speech, of living bodies wanted naught.

  Alcides there sat telling tales, and spun

  Among the feeble troops of damsels mild,

  He that the fiery gates of hell had won

  And heaven upheld; false Love stood by and smiled:

  Armed with his club fair Iole forth run,

  His club with blood of monsters foul defiled,

  And on her back his lion's skin had she,

  Too rough a bark for such a tender tree.

  Beyond was made a sea, whose azure flood

  The hoary froth crushed from the surges blue,

  Wherein two navies great well rangéd stood

  Of warlike ships, fire from their arms outflew,

  The waters burned about their vessels good,

  Such flames the gold therein enchaséd threw,

  Cæsar his Romans hence, the Asian kings

  Thence Antony and Indian princes brings.

  The Cyclades seemed to swim amid the main,

  And hill against hill, and mount against mountain smote,

  With such great fury met those armies twain;

  Here burnt a ship, there sunk a bark or boat,

  Here darts and wild-fire flew, there d
rowned or slain

  Of princes dead the bodies fleet and float;

  Here Cæsar wins, and yonder conquered been

  The Eastern ships, there fled the Egyptian queen:

  Antonius eke himself to flight betook,

  The empire lost to which he would aspire,

  Yet fled not he nor fight for fear forsook,

  But followed her, drawn on by fond desire:

  Well might you see within his troubled look,

  Strive and contend, love, courage, shame and ire;

  Oft looked he back, oft gazed he on the fight,

  But oftener on his mistress and her flight.

  Then in the secret creeks of fruitful Nile,

  Cast in her lap, he would sad death await,

  And in the pleasure of her lovely smile

  Sweeten the bitter stroke of curséd fate:

  All this did art with curious hand compile

  In the rich metal of that princely gate.

  The knights these stories viewéd first and last,

  Which seen, they forward pressed, and in they passed:

  As through his channel crooked Meander glides

  With turns and twines, and rolls now to, now fro,

  Whose streams run forth there to the salt sea sides

  Here back return and to their springward go:

  Such crookéd paths, such ways this palace hides;

  Yet all the maze their map describéd so,

  That through the labyrinth they got in fine,

  As Theseus did by Ariadne's line.

  When they had passéd all those troubled ways,

  The garden sweet spread forth her green to show,

  The moving crystal from the fountains plays,

  Fair trees, high plants, strange herbs and flowerets new,

  Sunshiny hills, dales hid from Phœbus' rays,

  Groves, arbors, mossy caves, at once they view,

  And that which beauty most, most wonder brought,

  Nowhere appeared the art which all this wrought.

  So with the rude the polished mingled was

  That natural seeméd all and every part,

  Nature would craft in counterfeiting pass,

  And imitate her imitator art:

  Mild was the air, the skies were clear as glass,

  The trees no whirlwind felt, nor tempest smart,

  But ere the fruit drop off, the blossom comes,

  This springs, that falls, that ripeneth and this blooms.

  The leaves upon the self-same bough did hide

  Beside the young the old and ripened fig,

  Here fruit was green, there ripe with vermeil side,

  The apples new and old grew on one twig,

  The fruitful vine her arms spread high and wide

  That bended underneath their clusters big,

  The grapes were tender here, hard, young and sour,