Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

Yet dare I say Godfredo means, I know,

  Such knowledge hath his looks and speeches wrought,

  You shall first prisoner be, and then be tried

  As he shall deem it good and law provide.”

  XLII

  With that a bitter smile well might you see

  Rinaldo cast, with scorn and high disdain,

  “Let them in fetters plead their cause,” quoth he,

  “That are base peasants, born of servile stain,

  I was free born, I live and will die free

  Before these feet be fettered in a chain:

  These hands were made to shake sharp spears and swords,

  Not to be tied in gyves and twisted cords.

  XLIII

  “If my good service reap this recompense,

  To be clapt up in close and secret mew,

  And as a thief be after dragged from thence,

  To suffer punishment as law finds due;

  Let Godfrey come or send, I will not hence

  Until we know who shall this bargain rue,

  That of our tragedy the late done fact

  May be the first, and this the second, act.

  XLIV

  “Give me mine arms,” he cried; his squire them brings,

  And clad his head, and dressed in iron strong,

  About his neck his silver shield he flings,

  Down by his side a cutting sword there hung;

  Among this earth’s brave lords and mighty kings,

  Was none so stout, so fierce, so fair, so young,

  God Mars he seemed descending from his sphere,

  Or one whose looks could make great Mars to fear.

  XLV

  Tancredi labored with some pleasing speech

  His spirits fierce and courage to appease;

  “Young Prince, thy valor,” thus he gan to preach,

  “Can chastise all that do thee wrong, at ease,

  I know your virtue can your enemies teach,

  That you can venge you when and where you please:

  But God forbid this day you lift your arm

  To do this camp and us your friends such harm.

  XLVI

  “Tell me what will you do? why would you stain

  Your noble hands in our unguilty blood?

  By wounding Christians, will you again

  Pierce Christ, whose parts they are and members good?

  Will you destroy us for your glory vain,

  Unstayed as rolling waves in ocean flood?

  Far be it from you so to prove your strength,

  And let your zeal appease your rage at length.

  XLVII

  “For God’s love stay your heat, and just displeasure,

  Appease your wrath, your courage fierce assuage,

  Patience, a praise; forbearance, is a treasure;

  Suffrance, an angel’s is; a monster, rage;

  At least you actions by example measure,

  And think how I in mine unbridled age

  Was wronged, yet I would not revengement take

  On all this camp, for one offender’s sake.

  XLVIII

  “Cilicia conquered I, as all men wot,

  And there the glorious cross on high I reared,

  But Baldwin came, and what I nobly got

  Bereft me falsely when I least him feared;

  He seemed my friend, and I discovered not

  His secret covetise which since appeared;

  Yet strive I not to get mine own by fight,

  Or civil war, although perchance I might.

  XLIX

  “If then you scorn to be in prison pent,

  If bonds, as high disgrace, your hands refuse;

  Or if your thoughts still to maintain are bent

  Your liberty, as men of honor use:

  To Antioch what if forthwith you went?

  And leave me here your absence to excuse,

  There with Prince Boemond live in ease and peace,

  Until this storm of Godfrey’s anger cease.

  L

  “For soon, if forces come from Egypt land,

  Or other nations that us here confine,

  Godfrey will beaten be with his own wand,

  And feel he wants that valor great of thine,

  Our camp may seem an arm without a hand,

  Amid our troops unless thy eagle shine:”

  With that came Guelpho and those words approved,

  And prayed him go, if him he feared or loved.

  LI

  Their speeches soften much the warrior’s heart,

  And make his wilful thoughts at last relent,

  So that he yields, and saith he will depart,

  And leave the Christian camp incontinent.

  His friends, whose love did never shrink or start,

  Preferred their aid, what way soe’er he went:

  He thanked them all, but left them all, besides

  Two bold and trusty squires, and so he rides.

  LII

  He rides, revolving in his noble spright

  Such haughty thoughts as fill the glorious mind;

  On hard adventures was his whole delight,

  And now to wondrous acts his will inclined;

  Alone against the Pagans would he fight,

  And kill their kings from Egypt unto Inde,

  From Cynthia’s hills and Nilus’ unknown spring

  He would fetch praise and glorious conquest bring.

  LIII

  But Guelpho, when the prince his leave had take

  And now had spurred his courser on his way,

  No longer tarriance with the rest would make,

  But tastes to find Godfredo, if he may:

  Who seeing him approaching, forthwith spake,

  “Guelpho,” quoth he, “for thee I only stay,

  For thee I sent my heralds all about,

  In every tent to seek and find thee out.”

  LIV

  This said, he softly drew the knight aside

  Where none might hear, and then bespake him thus:

  “How chanceth it thy nephew’s rage and pride,

  Makes him so far forget himself and us?

  Hardly could I believe what is betide,

  A murder done for cause so frivolous,

  How I have loved him, thou and all can tell;

  But Godfrey loved him but whilst he did well.

  LV

  “I must provide that every one have right,

  That all be heard, each cause be well discussed,

  As far from partial love as free from spite,

  I hear complaints, yet naught but proves I trust:

  Now if Rinaldo weigh our rule too light,

  And have the sacred lore of war so brust,

  Take you the charge that he before us come

  To clear himself and hear our upright dome.

  LVI

  “But let him come withouten bond or chain,

  For still my thoughts to do him grace are framed;

  But if our power he haply shall disdain,

  As well I know his courage yet untamed,

  To bring him by persuasion take some pain:

  Else, if I prove severe, both you be blamed,

  That forced my gentle nature gainst my thought

  To rigor, lest our laws return to naught.”

  LVII

  Lord Guelpho answered thus: “What heart can bear

  Such slanders false, devised by hate and spite?

  Or with stayed patience, reproaches hear,

  And not revenge by battle or by fight?

  The Norway Prince hath bought his folly dear,

  But who with words could stay the angry knight?

  A fool is he that comes to preach or prate

  When men with swords their right and wrong debate.

  LVIII

  “And where you wish he should himself submit

  To hear the censure of your upright laws;

  Alas, that canno
t be, for he is flit

  Out if this camp, withouten stay or pause,

  There take my gage, behold I offer it

  To him that first accused him in this cause,

  Or any else that dare, and will maintain

  That for his pride the prince was justly slain.

  LIX

  “I say with reason Lord Gernando’s pride

  He hath abated, if he have offended

  Gainst your commands, who are his lord and guide,

  Oh pardon him, that fault shall be amended.”

  “If he be gone,” quoth Godfrey, “let him ride

  And brawl elsewhere, here let all strife be ended:

  And you, Lord Guelpho, for your nephew’s sake,

  Breed us no new, nor quarrels old awake.”

  LX

  This while, the fair and false Armida strived

  To get her promised aid in sure possession,

  The day to end, with endless plaint she derived;

  Wit, beauty, craft for her made intercession:

  But when the earth was once of light deprived,

  And western seas felt Titan’s hot impression,

  ‘Twixt two old knights, and matrons twain she went,

  Where pitched was her fair and curious tent.

  LXI

  But this false queen of craft and sly invention, —

  Whose looks, love’s arrows were; whose eyes his quivers;

  Whose beauty matchless, free from reprehension,

  A wonder left by Heaven to after-livers, —

  Among the Christian lord had bred contention

  Who first should quench his flames in Cupid’s rivers,

  While all her weapons and her darts rehearsed,

  Had not Godfredo’s constant bosom pierced.

  LXII

  To change his modest thought the dame procureth,

  And proffereth heaps of love’s enticing treasure:

  But as the falcon newly gorged endureth

  Her keeper lure her oft, but comes at leisure;

  So he, whom fulness of delight assureth

  What long repentance comes of love’s short pleasure,

  Her crafts, her arts, herself and all despiseth,

  So base affections fall, when virtue riseth.

  LXIII

  And not one foot his steadfast foot was moved

  Out of that heavenly path, wherein he paced,

  Yet thousand wiles and thousand ways she proved,

  To have that castle fair of goodness raised:

  She used those looks and smiles that most behoved

  To melt the frost which his hard heart embraced,

  And gainst his breast a thousand shot she ventured,

  Yet was the fort so strong it was not entered.

  LXIV

  The dame who thought that one blink of her eye

  Could make the chastest heart feel love’s sweet pain,

  Oh, how her pride abated was hereby!

  When all her sleights were void, her crafts were vain,

  Some other where she would her forces try,

  Where at more ease she might more vantage gain,

  As tired soldiers whom some fort keeps out,

  Thence raise their siege, and spoil the towns about.

  LXV

  But yet all ways the wily witch could find

  Could not Tancredi’s heart to loveward move,

  His sails were filled with another wind,

  He list no blast of new affection prove;

  For, as one poison doth exclude by kind

  Another’s force, so love excludeth love:

  These two alone nor more nor less the dame

  Could win, the rest all burnt in her sweet flame.

  LXVI

  The princess, though her purpose would not frame,

  As late she hoped, and as still she would,

  Yet, for the lords and knights of greatest name

  Became her prey, as erst you heard it told,

  She thought, ere truth-revealing time or frame

  Bewrayed her act, to lead them to some hold,

  Where chains and band she meant to make them prove,

  Composed by Vulcan not by gentle love.

  LXVII

  The time prefixed at length was come and past,

  Which Godfrey had set down to lend her aid,

  When at his feet herself to earth she cast,

  “The hour is come, my Lord,” she humbly said,

  “And if the tyrant haply hear at last,

  His banished niece hath your assistance prayed,

  He will in arms to save his kingdom rise,

  So shall we harder make this enterprise.

  LXVIII

  “Before report can bring the tyrant news,

  Or his espials certify their king,

  Oh let thy goodness these few champions choose,

  That to her kingdom should thy handmaid bring;

  Who, except Heaven to aid the right refuse,

  Recover shall her crown, from whence shall spring

  Thy profit; for betide thee peace or war,

  Thine all her cities, all her subjects are.”

  LXIX

  The captain sage the damsel fair assured,

  His word was passed and should not be recanted,

  And she with sweet and humble grace endured

  To let him point those ten, which late he granted:

  But to be one, each one fought and procured,

  No suit, no entreaty, intercession wanted;

  There envy each at others’ love exceeded,

  And all importunate made, more than needed.

  LXX

  She that well saw the secret of their hearts,

  And knew how best to warm them in their blood,

  Against them threw the cursed poisoned darts

  Of jealousy, and grief at others’ good,

  For love she wist was weak without those arts,

  And slow; for jealousy is Cupid’s food;

  For the swift steed runs not so fast alone,

  As when some strain, some strive him to outgone.

  LXXI

  Her words in such alluring sort she framed,

  Her looks enticing, and her wooing smiles,

  That every one his fellows’ favors blamed,

  That of their mistress he received erewhiles:

  This foolish crew of lovers unashamed,

  Mad with the poison of her secret wiles,

  Ran forward still, in this disordered sort,

  Nor could Godfredo’s bridle rein them short.

  LXXII

  He that would satisfy each good desire,

  Withouten partial love, of every knight,

  Although he swelled with shame, with grief and ire

  To see these fellows and these fashions light;

  Yet since by no advice they would retire,

  Another way he sought to set them right:

  “Write all your names,” quoth he, “and see whom chance

  Of lot, to this exploit will first advance.”

  LXXIII

  Their names were writ, and in an helmet shaken,

  While each did fortune’s grace and aid implore;

  At last they drew them, and the foremost taken

  The Earl of Pembroke was, Artemidore,

  Doubtless the county thought his bread well baken;

  Next Gerrard followed, then with tresses hoar

  Old Wenceslaus, that felt Cupid’s rage

  Now in his doating and his dying age.

  LXXIV

  Oh how contentment in their foreheads shined!

  Their looks with joy; thoughts swelled with secret pleasure,

  These three it seemed good success designed

  To make the lords of love and beauty’s treasure:

  Their doubtful fellows at their hap repined,

  And with small patience wait Fortune’s leisure,

  Upon his lips that read the scrolls attending,r />
  As if their lives were on his words depending.

  LXXV

  Guasco the fourth, Ridolpho him succeeds,

  Then Ulderick whom love list so advance,

  Lord William of Ronciglion next he reads,

  Then Eberard, and Henry born in France,

  Rambaldo last, whom wicked lust so leads

  That he forsook his Saviour with mischance;

  This wretch the tenth was who was thus deluded,

  The rest to their huge grief were all excluded.

  LXXVI

  O’ercome with envy, wrath and jealousy,

  The rest blind Fortune curse, and all her laws,

  And mad with love, yet out on love they cry,

  That in his kingdom let her judge their cause:

  And for man’s mind is such, that oft we try

  Things most forbidden, without stay or pause,

  In spite of fortune purposed many a knight

  To follow fair Armida when ’twas night.

  LXXVII

  To follow her, by night or else by day,

  And in her quarrel venture life and limb.

  With sighs and tears she gan them softly pray

  To keep that promise, when the skies were dim,

  To this and that knight did she plain and say,

  What grief she felt to part withouten him:

  Meanwhile the ten had donned their armor best,

  And taken leave of Godfrey and the rest.

  LXXVIII

  The duke advised them every one apart,

  How light, how trustless was the Pagan’s faith,

  And told what policy, what wit, what art,

  Avoids deceit, which heedless men betray’th;

  His speeches pierce their ear, but not their heart,

  Love calls it folly, whatso wisdom saith:

  Thus warned he leaves them to their wanton guide,

  Who parts that night; such haste had she to ride.

  LXXIX

  The conqueress departs, and with her led

  These prisoners, whom love would captive keep,

  The hearts of those she left behind her bled,

  With point of sorrow’s arrow pierced deep.

  But when the night her drowsy mantle spread,

  And filled the earth with silence, shade and sleep,

  In secret sort then each forsook his tent,

  And as blind Cupid led them blind they went.

  LXXX

  Eustatio first, who scantly could forbear,

  Till friendly night might hide his haste and shame,

  He rode in post, and let his breast him bear

  As his blind fancy would his journey frame,

  All night he wandered and he wist not where;

  But with the morning he espied the dame,

  That with her guard up from a village rode

  Where she and they that night had made abode.

  LXXXI

  Thither he galloped fast, and drawing near

  Rambaldo knew the knight, and loudly cried,