Jersusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  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.

  "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 concealéd lie:

  Nor yet in following me, poor knight, disgrace

  Your worth, your beauty, and your princely race.

  "Stay here in peace, I go, nor wend you may

  With me, my guide your fellowship denies,

  Stay here or hence depart some better way,

  And calm your thoughts, you are both sage and wise."

  While thus he spoke, her passions found no stay,

  But here and there she turned and rolled her eyes,

  And staring on his face awhile, at last

  Thus in foul terms, her bitter wrath forth brast:

  "Of Sophia fair thou never wert the child,

  Nor of the Azzain race ysprung thou art,

  The mad sea-waves thee bare, some tigress wild

  On Caucasus' cold crags nursed thee apart;

  Ah, cruel man! in whom no token mild

  Appears, of pity, ruth, or tender heart,

  Could not my griefs, my woes, my plaints, and all

  One sigh strain from thy breast, one tear make fall?

  "What shall I say, or how renew my speech?

  He scorns me, leaves me, bids me call him mine:

  The victor hath his foe within his reach;

  Yet pardons her, that merits death and pine;

  Hear how he counsels me; how he can preach,

  Like chaste Xenocrates, against love divine;

  O heavens, O gods! why do these men of shame,

  Thus spoil your temples, and blaspheme your name?

  "Go cruel, go, go with such peace, such rest,

  Such joy, such comfort, as thou leavest me here:

  My angry soul discharged from this weak breast,

  Shall haunt thee ever, and attend thee near,

  And fury-like in snakes and firebrands dressed,

  Shall aye torment thee, whom it late held dear:

  And if thou 'scape the seas, the rocks, and sands

  And come to fight among the Pagan bands,

  There lying wounded, mongst the hurt and slain,

  Of these my wrongs thou shalt the vengeance bear,

  And oft Armida shalt thou call in vain,

  At thy last gasp; this hope I soon to hear:"

  Here fainted she, with sorrow, grief and pain,

  Her latest words scant well expresséd were,

  But in a swoon on earth outstretched she lies,

  Stiff were her frozen limbs, closed were her eyes.

  Thou closed thine eyes, Armida, heaven enviéd

  Ease to thy grief, or comfort to thy woe;

  Ah, open then again, see tears down slide

  From his kind eyes, whom thou esteem'st thy foe,

  If thou hadst heard, his sighs had mollified

  Thine anger, hard he sighed and mournéd so;

  And as he could with sad and rueful look

  His leave of thee and last farewell he took.

  What should he do? leave on the naked sand

  This woful lady half alive, half dead?

  Kindness forbade, pity did that withstand;

  But hard constraint, alas! did thence him lead;

  Away he went, the west wind blew from land

  Mongst the rich tresses of their pilot's head,

  And with that golden sail the waves she cleft,

  To land he looked, till land unseen he left.

  Waked from her trance, forsaken, speechless, sad,

  Armida wildly stared and gazed about,

  "And is he gone," quoth she, "nor pity had

  To leave me thus twixt life and death in doubt?

  Could he not stay? could not the traitor-lad

  From this last trance help or recall me out?

  And do I love him still, and on this sand

  Still unrevenged, still mourn, still weeping stand?

  "Fie no! complaints farewell! with arms and art

  I will pursue to death this spiteful knight,

  Not earth's low centre, nor sea's deepest part,

  Not heaven, nor hell, can shield him from my might,

  I will o'ertake him, take him, cleave his heart,

  Such vengeance fits a wrongéd lover's spite,

  In cruelty that cruel knight surpass

  I will, but what avail vain words, alas?

  "O fool! thou shouldest have been cruel than,

  For then this cruel well deserved thine ire,

  When thou in prison hadst entrapped the man,

  Now dead with cold, too late thou askest fire;

  But though my wit, my cunning nothing can,

  Some other means shall work my heart's desire,

  To thee, my beauty, thine be all these wrongs,

  Vengeance to thee, to thee revenge belongs.

  "Thou shalt be his reward, with murdering brand

  That dare this traitor of his head deprive,

  O you my lovers, on this rock doth stand

  The castle of her love for whom you strive,

  I, the sole heir of all Damascus land,

  For this revenge myself and kingdom give,

  If by this price my will I cannot gain,

  Nature gives beauty; fortune, wealth in vain.

  "But thee, vain gift, vain beauty, thee I scorn,

  I hate the kingdom which I have to give,

  I hate myself, and rue that I was born,

  Only in hope of sweet revenge I live."

  Thus raging with fell ire she gan return

  From that bare shore in haste, and homeward drive,

  And as true witness of her frantic ire,

  Her locks waved loose, face shone, eyes sparkled fire.

  When she came home, she called with outcries shrill,

  A thousand devils in Limbo deep that won,

  Black clouds the skies with horrid darkness fill,

  And pale for dread became the eclipséd sun,

  The whirlwind blustered big on every hill,

  And hell to roar under her feet begun,

  You might have heard how through the palace wide,

  Some spirits howled, some barked, some hissed, some cried.

  A shadow, blacker than the mirkest night,

  Environed all the place with darkness sad,

  Wherein a firebrand gave a dreadful light,

  Kindled in hell by Tisiphone the mad;

  Vanished the shade, the sun appeared in sight,

  Pale were his beams, the air was nothing glad,

  And all the palace vanished was and gone,

  Nor of so great a work was left one stone.

  As oft the clouds frame shapes of castles great

  Amid the air, that little time do last,

  But are dissolved by wind or Titan's heat,

  Or like vain dreams soon made, and sooner past:

  The palace vanished so, nor in his seat

  Left aught but rocks and crags, by kind there placed;

  She in her coach which two old serpents drew,

  Sate down, and as she used, away she flew.

  She broke the clouds, and cleft the yielding sky,

  And bout her gathered tempest, storm and wind,

  The lands that view the south pole flew she by,

  And left those unknown countries far behind,

  The Straits of Hercules she passed, which lie

  Twixt Spain and Afric, nor her flight inclined

  To north or south, but still did forward ride

  O'er seas and streams, till Syria's coasts
she spied.

  Now she went forward to Damascus fair,

  But of her country dear she fled the sight,

  And guided to Asphaltes' lake her chair,

  Where stood her castle, there she ends her flight,

  And from her damsels far, she made repair

  To a deep vault, far from resort and light,

  Where in sad thoughts a thousand doubts she cast,

  Till grief and shame to wrath gave place at last.

  "I will not hence," quoth she, "till Egypt's lord

  In aid of Zion's king his host shall move;

  Then will I use all helps that charms afford,

  And change my shape or sex if so behove:

  Well can I handle bow, or lance, or sword,

  The worthies all will aid me, for my love:

  I seek revenge, and to obtain the same,

  Farewell, regard of honor; farewell, shame.

  "Nor let mine uncle and protector me

  Reprove for this, he most deserves the blame,

  My heart and sex, that weak and tender be,

  He bent to deeds that maidens ill became;

  His niece a wandering damsel first made he,

  He spurred my youth, and I cast off my shame,

  His be the fault, if aught gainst mine estate

  I did for love, or shall commit for hate."

  This said, her knights, her ladies, pages, squires

  She all assembleth, and for journey fit

  In such fair arms and vestures them attires

  As showed her wealth, and well declared her wit;

  And forward marchéd, full of strange desires,

  Nor rested she by day or night one whit,

  Till she came there, where all the eastern bands,

  Their kings and princes, lay on Gaza's sands.

  | Go to Contents |

  Seventeenth Book

  THE ARGUMENT

  Egypt's great host in battle-ray forth brought,

  The Caliph sends with Godfrey's power to fight;

  Armida, who Rinaldo's ruin sought,

  To them adjoins herself and Syria's might.

  To satisfy her cruel will and thought,

  She gives herself to him that kills her knight:

  He takes his fatal arms, and in his shield

  His ancestors and their great deeds beheld.

  GAZA the city on the frontier stands

  Of Juda's realm, as men to Egypt ride,

  Built near the sea, beside it of dry sands

  Huge wildernesses lie and deserts wide

  Which the strong winds lift from the parchéd lands

  And toss like roaring waves in roughest tide,

  That from those storms poor passengers almost

  No refuge find, but there are drowned and lost.

  Within this town, won from the Turks of yore,

  Strong garrison the king of Egypt placed,

  And for it nearer was, and fitted more

  That high emprise to which his thoughts he cast,

  He left great Memphis, and to Gaza bore

  His regal throne, and there, from countries vast

  Of his huge empire all the puissant host

  Assembled he, and mustered on the coast.

  Come say, my Muse, what manner times these were,

  And in those times how stood the state of things,

  What power this monarch had, what arms they bear,

  What nations subject, and what friends he brings;

  From all lands the southern ocean near,

  Or morning star, came princes, dukes and kings,

  And only thou of half the world well-nigh

  The armies, lords, and captains canst descry.

  When Egypt from the Greekish emperor

  Rebelléd first, and Christ's true faith denied,

  Of Mahomet's descent a warrior

  There set his throne and ruled that kingdom wide,

  Caliph he hight, and Caliphs since that hour

  Are his successors naméd all beside:

  So Nilus old his kings long time had seen

  That Ptolemies and Pharaohs called had been.

  Established was that kingdom in short while,

  And grew so great, that over Asia's lands

  And Lybia's realms it stretchéd many a mile,

  From Syria's coasts as far as Cirene sands,

  And southward passéd against the course of Nile,

  Through the hot clime where burnt Syene stands,

  Hence bounded in with sandy deserts waste,

  And thence with Euphrates' rich flood embraced.

  Maremma, myrrh and spices that doth bring,

  And all the rich red sea it comprehends,

  And to those lands, toward the morning spring

  That lie beyond that gulf, it far extends;

  Great is that empire, greater by the king

  That rules it now, whose worth the land amends,

  And makes more famous, lord thereof by blood,

  By wisdom, valor, and all virtues good.

  With Turks and Persians war he oft did wage,

  And oft he won, and sometimes lost the field,

  Nor could his adverse fortune aught assuage

  His valor's heat or make his proud heart yield,

  But when he grew unfit for war through age,

  He sheathed his sword and laid aside his shield:

  But yet his warlike mind he laid not down,

  Nor his great thirst of rule, praise and renown,

  But by his knights still cruel wars maintained.

  So wise his words, so quick his wit appears,

  That of the kingdom large o'er which he reigned,

  The charge seemed not too weighty for his years;

  His greatness Afric's lesser kings constrained

  To tremble at his name, all Ind him fears,

  And other realms that would his friendship hold;

  Some arméd soldiers sent, some gifts, some gold.

  This mighty prince assembled had the flower

  Of all his realms, against the Frenchmen stout,

  To break their rising empire and their power,

  Nor of sure conquest had he fear or doubt:

  To him Armida came, even at the hour

  When in the plains, old Gaza's walls without,

  The lords and leaders all their armies bring

  In battle-ray, mustered before their king.

  He on his throne was set, to which on height

  Who clomb an hundred ivory stairs first told,

  Under a pentise wrought of silver bright,

  And trod on carpets made of silk and gold;

  His robes were such as best beseemen might

  A king, so great, so grave, so rich, so old,

  And twined of sixty ells of lawn and more

  A turban strange adorned his tresses hoar.

  His right hand did his precious sceptre wield,

  His beard was gray, his looks severe and grave,

  And from his eyes, not yet made dim with eild,

  Sparkled his former worth and vigor brave,

  His gestures all the majesty upheild

  And state, as his old age and empire crave,

  So Phidias carved, Apelles so, pardie,

  Erst painted Jove, Jove thundering down from sky.

  On either side him stood a noble lord,

  Whereof the first held in his upright hand

  Of severe justice the unpartial sword;

  The other bare the seal, and causes scanned,

  Keeping his folk in peace and good accord,

  And terméd was lord chancellor of the land;

  But marshal was the first, and used to lead

  His armies forth to war, oft with good speed.

  Of bold Circassians with their halberts long,

  About his throne his guards stood in a ring,

  All richly armed in gilden corslets strong,

  And by their sides their crooked swords do
wn hing:

  Thus set, thus seated, his grave lords among,

  His hosts and armies great beheld the king,

  And every band as by his throne it went,

  Their ensigns low inclined, and arms down bent:

  Their squadrons first the men of Egypt show,

  In four troops, and each his several guide,

  Of the high country two, two of the low

  Which Nile had won out of the salt seaside,

  His fertile slime first stopped the waters' flow,

  Then hardened to firm land the plough to bide,

  So Egypt still increased, within far placed

  That part is now where ships erst anchor cast.

  The foremost band the people were that dwelled

  In Alexandria's rich and fertile plain,

  Along the western shore, whence Nile expelled

  The greedy billows of the swelling main;

  Araspes was their guide, who more excelled

  In wit and craft than strength or warlike pain,

  To place an ambush close, or to devise

  A treason false, was none so sly, so wise.

  The people next that against the morning rays

  Along the coasts of Asia have their seat,

  Arontes led them, whom no warlike praise

  Ennobled, but high birth and titles great,

  His helm ne'er made him sweat in toilsome frays,

  Nor was his sleep e'er broke with trumpet's threat,

  But from soft ease to try the toil of fight

  His fond ambition brought this carpet knight.

  The third seemed not a troop or squadron small,

  But an huge host; nor seemed it so much grain

  In Egypt grew as to sustain them all;

  Yet from one town thereof came all that train,

  A town in people to huge shires equal,

  That did a thousand streets and more contain,

  Great Caire it hight, whose commons from each side

  Came swarming out to war, Campson their guide.

  Next under Gazel marchéd they that plough

  The fertile lands above that town which lie

  Up to the place where Nilus tumbling low

  Falls from his second cataract from high;

  The Egyptians weaponed were with sword and bow,

  No weight of helm or hauberk list they try,

  And richly armed, in their strong foes no dreed

  Of death but great desire of spoil they breed.

  The naked folk of Barca these succeed,

  Unarméd half, Alarcon led that band,

  That long in deserts lived, in extreme need,

  On spoils and preys purchased by strength of hand.

  To battle strong unfit, their king did lead

  His army next brought from Zumara land.

  Then he of Tripoli, for sudden fight

  And skirmish short, both ready, bold, and light.