Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  And then he told at large from part to part,

  All what he late performed by wondrous art.

  XIII

  “Besides this help, another hap,” quoth he,

  “Will shortly chance that brings not profit small.

  Within few days Mars and the Sun I see

  Their fiery beams unite in Leo shall;

  And then extreme the scorching heat will be,

  Which neither rain can quench nor dews that fall,

  So placed are the planets high and low,

  That heat, fire, burning all the heavens foreshow:

  XIV

  “So great with us will be the warmth therefore,

  As with the Garamants or those of Inde;

  Yet nill it grieve us in this town so sore,

  We have sweet shade and waters cold by kind:

  Our foes abroad will be tormented more,

  What shield can they or what refreshing find?

  Heaven will them vanquish first, then Egypt’s crew

  Destroy them quite, weak, weary, faint and few:

  XV

  “Thou shalt sit still and conquer; prove no more

  The doubtful hazard of uncertain fight.

  But if Argantes bold, that hates so sore

  All cause of quiet peace, though just and right,

  Provoke thee forth to battle, as before,

  Find means to calm the rage of that fierce knight,

  For shortly Heaven will send thee ease and peace,

  And war and trouble mongst thy foes increase.”

  XVI

  The king assured by these speeches fair,

  Held Godfrey’s power, his might and strength in scorn,

  And now the walls he gan in part repair,

  Which late the ram had bruised with iron horn,

  With wise foresight and well advised care

  He fortified each breach and bulwark torn,

  And all his folk, men, women, children small,

  With endless toil again repaired the wall.

  XVII

  But Godfrey nould this while bring forth his power

  To give assault against that fort in vain,

  Till he had builded new his dreadful tower,

  And reared high his down-fallen rams again:

  His workmen therefore he despatched that hour

  To hew the trees out of the forest main,

  They went, and scant the wood appeared in sight

  When wonders new their fearful hearts affright:

  XVIII

  As silly children dare not bend their eye

  Where they are told strange bugbears haunt the place,

  Or as new monsters, while in bed they lie,

  Their fearful thoughts present before their face;

  So feared they, and fled, yet wist not why,

  Nor what pursued them in that fearful chase.

  Except their fear perchance while thus they fled,

  New chimeras, sphinxes, or like monsters bred:

  XIX

  Swift to the camp they turned back dismayed,

  With words confused uncertain tales they told,

  That all which heard them scorned what they said

  And those reports for lies and fables hold.

  A chosen crew in shining arms arrayed

  Duke Godfrey thither sent of soldiers bold,

  To guard the men and their faint arms provoke

  To cut the dreadful trees with hardy stroke:

  XX

  These drawing near the wood where close ypent

  The wicked sprites in sylvan pinfolds were,

  Their eyes upon those shades no sooner bent

  But frozen dread pierced through their entrails dear;

  Yet on they stalked still, and on they went,

  Under bold semblance hiding coward fear,

  And so far wandered forth with trembling pace,

  Till they approached nigh that enchanted place:

  XXI

  When from the grove a fearful sound outbreaks,

  As if some earthquake hill and mountain tore,

  Wherein the southern wind a rumbling makes,

  Or like sea waves against the scraggy shore;

  There lions grumble, there hiss scaly snakes,

  There howl the wolves, the rugged bears there roar,

  There trumpets shrill are heard and thunders fell,

  And all these sounds one sound expressed well.

  XXII

  Upon their faces pale well might you note

  A thousand signs of heart-amating fear,

  Their reason gone, by no device they wot

  How to press nigh, or stay still where they were,

  Against that sudden dread their breasts which smote,

  Their courage weak no shield of proof could bear,

  At last they fled, and one than all more bold,

  Excused their flight, and thus the wonders told:

  XXIII

  “My lord, not one of us there is, I grant,

  That dares cut down one branch in yonder spring,

  I think there dwells a sprite in every plant,

  There keeps his court great Dis infernal king,

  He hath a heart of hardened adamant

  That without trembling dares attempt the thing,

  And sense he wanteth who so hardy is

  To hear the forest thunder, roar and hiss.”

  XXIV

  This said, Alcasto to his words gave heed,

  Alcasto leader of the Switzers grim,

  A man both void of wit and void of dreed,

  Who feared not loss of life nor loss of limb.

  No savage beasts in deserts wild that feed

  Nor ugly monster could dishearten him,

  Nor whirlwind, thunder, earthquake, storm, or aught

  That in this world is strange or fearful thought.

  XXV

  He shook his head, and smiling thus gan say,

  “The hardiness have I that wood to fell,

  And those proud trees low in the dust to lay

  Wherein such grisly fiends and monsters dwell;

  No roaring ghost my courage can dismay,

  No shriek of birds, beast’s roar, or dragon’s yell;

  But through and through that forest will I wend,

  Although to deepest hell the paths descend.”

  XXVI

  Thus boasted he, and leave to go desired,

  And forward went with joyful cheer and will,

  He viewed the wood and those thick shades admired,

  He heard the wondrous noise and rumbling shrill;

  Yet not one foot the audacious man retired,

  He scorned the peril, pressing forward still,

  Till on the forest’s outmost marge he stepped,

  A flaming fire from entrance there him kept.

  XXVII

  The fire increased, and built a stately wall

  Of burning coals, quick sparks, and embers hot,

  And with bright flames the wood environed all,

  That there no tree nor twist Alcasto got;

  The higher stretched the flames seemed bulwarks tall,

  Castles and turrets full of fiery shot,

  With slings and engines strong of every sort; —

  What mortal wight durst scale so strange a fort?

  XXVIII

  Oh what strange monsters on the battlement

  In loathsome forms stood to defend the place?

  Their frowning looks upon the knight they bent,

  And threatened death with shot, with sword and mace:

  At last he fled, and though but slow he went,

  As lions do whom jolly hunters chase;

  Yet fled the man and with sad fear withdrew,

  Though fear till then he never felt nor knew.

  XXIX

  That he had fled long time he never wist,

  But when far run he had discoverd it,

  Himself for wonder with his han
d he blist,

  A bitter sorrow by the heart him bit,

  Amazed, ashamed, disgraced, sad, silent, trist,

  Alone he would all day in darkness sit,

  Nor durst he look on man of worth or fame,

  His pride late great, now greater made his shame.

  XXX

  Godfredo called him, but he found delays

  And causes why he should his cabin keep,

  At length perforce he comes, but naught he says,

  Or talks like those that babble in their sleep.

  His shamefacedness to Godfrey plain bewrays

  His flight, so does his sighs and sadness deep:

  Whereat amazed, “What chance is this?” quoth he.

  “These witchcrafts strange or nature’s wonders be.

  XXXI

  “But if his courage any champion move

  To try the hazard of this dreadful spring,

  I give him leave the adventure great to prove,

  Some news he may report us of the thing:”

  This said, his lords attempt the charmed grove,

  Yet nothing back but fear and flight they bring,

  For them inforced with trembling to retire,

  The sight, the sound, the monsters and the fire.

  XXXII

  This happed when woful Tancred left his bed

  To lay in marble cold his mistress dear,

  The lively color from his cheek was fled,

  His limbs were weak his helm or targe to bear;

  Nathless when need to high attempts him led,

  No labor would he shun, no danger fear,

  His valor, boldness, heart and courage brave,

  To his faint body strength and vigor gave.

  XXXIII

  To this exploit forth went the venturous knight,

  Fearless, yet heedful; silent, well advised,

  The terrors of that forest’s dreadful sight,

  Storms, earthquakes, thunders, cries, he all despised:

  He feared nothing, yet a motion light,

  That quickly vanished, in his heart arised

  When lo, between him and the charmed wood,

  A fiery city high as heaven up stood.

  XXXIV

  The knight stepped back and took a sudden pause,

  And to himself, “What help these arms?” quoth he,

  “If in this fire, or monster’s gaping jaws

  I headlong cast myself, what boots it me?

  For common profit, or my country’s cause,

  To hazard life before me none should be:

  But this exploit of no such weight I hold,

  For it to lose a prince or champion bold.

  XXXV

  But if I fly, what will the Pagans say?

  If I retire, who shall cut down this spring?

  Godfredo will attempt it every day.

  What if some other knight perform the thing?

  These flames uprisen to forestall my way

  Perchance more terror far than danger bring.

  But hap what shall;” this said, he forward stepped,

  And through the fire, oh wondrous boldness, leapt!

  XXXVI

  He bolted through, but neither warmth nor heat!

  He felt, nor sign of fire or scorching flame;

  Yet wist he not in his dismayed conceit,

  If that were fire or no through which he came;

  For at first touch vanished those monsters great,

  And in their stead the clouds black night did frame

  And hideous storms and showers of hail and rain;

  Yet storms and tempests vanished straight again.

  XXXVII

  Amazed but not afraid the champion good

  Stood still, but when the tempest passed he spied,

  He entered boldly that forbidden wood,

  And of the forest all the secrets eyed,

  In all his walk no sprite or phantasm stood

  That stopped his way or passage free denied,

  Save that the growing trees so thick were set,

  That oft his sight, and passage oft they let.

  XXXVIII

  At length a fair and spacious green he spied,

  Like calmest waters, plain, like velvet, soft,

  Wherein a cypress clad in summer’s pride,

  Pyramid-wise, lift up his tops aloft;

  In whose smooth bark upon the evenest side,

  Strange characters he found, and viewed them oft,

  Like those which priests of Egypt erst instead

  Of letters used, which none but they could read.

  XXXIX

  Mongst them he picked out these words at last,

  Writ in the Syriac tongue, which well he could,

  “Oh hardy knight, who through these woods hast passed:

  Where Death his palace and his court doth hold!

  Oh trouble not these souls in quiet placed,

  Oh be not cruel as thy heart is bold,

  Pardon these ghosts deprived of heavenly light,

  With spirits dead why should men living fight?”

  XL

  This found he graven in the tender rind,

  And while he mused on this uncouth writ,

  Him thought he heard the softly whistling wind

  His blasts amid the leaves and branches knit

  And frame a sound like speech of human kind,

  But full of sorrow grief and woe was it,

  Whereby his gentle thoughts all filled were

  With pity, sadness, grief, compassion, fear.

  XLI

  He drew his sword at last, and gave the tree

  A mighty blow, that made a gaping wound,

  Out of the rift red streams he trickling see

  That all bebled the verdant plain around,

  His hair start up, yet once again stroke he,

  He nould give over till the end he found

  Of this adventure, when with plaint and moan,

  As from some hollow grave, he heard one groan.

  XLII

  “Enough, enough!” the voice lamenting said,

  “Tancred, thou hast me hurt, thou didst me drive

  Out of the body of a noble maid

  Who with me lived, whom late I kept on live,

  And now within this woful cypress laid,

  My tender rind thy weapon sharp doth rive,

  Cruel, is’t not enough thy foes to kill,

  But in their graves wilt thou torment them still?

  XLIII

  “I was Clorinda, now imprisoned here,

  Yet not alone within this plant I dwell,

  For every Pagan lord and Christian peer,

  Before the city’s walls last day that fell,

  In bodies new or graves I wot not clear,

  But here they are confined by magic’s spell,

  So that each tree hath life, and sense each bough,

  A murderer if thou cut one twist art thou.”

  XLIV

  As the sick man that in his sleep doth see

  Some ugly dragon, or some chimera new,

  Though he suspect, or half persuaded be,

  It is an idle dream, no monster true,

  Yet still he fears, he quakes, and strives to flee,

  So fearful is that wondrous form to view;

  So feared the knight, yet he both knew and thought

  All were illusions false by witchcraft wrought:

  XLV

  But cold and trembling waxed his frozen heart,

  Such strange effects, such passions it torment,

  Out of his feeble hand his weapon start,

  Himself out of his wits nigh, after went:

  Wounded he saw, he thought, for pain and smart,

  His lady weep, complain, mourn, and lament,

  Nor could he suffer her dear blood to see,

  Or hear her sighs that deep far fetched be.

  XLVI

  Thus his fierce heart which death had scorn
ed oft,

  Whom no strange shape or monster could dismay,

  With feigned shows of tender love made soft,

  A spirit false did with vain plaints betray;

  A whirling wind his sword heaved up aloft,

  And through the forest bare it quite away.

  O’ercome retired the prince, and as he came,

  His sword he found, and repossessed the same,

  XLVII

  Yet nould return, he had no mind to try

  His courage further in those forests green;

  But when to Godfrey’s tent he proached nigh,

  His spirits waked, his thoughts composed been,

  “My Lord.” quoth he, “a witness true am I

  Of wonders strange, believe it scant though seen,

  What of the fire, the shades, the dreadful sound

  You heard, all true by proof myself have found;

  XLVIII

  “A burning fire, so are those deserts charmed,

  Built like a battled wall to heaven was reared;

  Whereon with darts and dreadful weapons armed,

  Of monsters foul mis-shaped whole bands appeared;

  But through them all I passed, unhurt, unharmed,

  No flame or threatened blow I felt or feared,

  Then rain and night I found, but straight again

  To day, the night, to sunshine turned the rain.

  XLIX

  “What would you more? each tree through all that wood

  Hath sense, hath life, hath speech, like human kind,

  I heard their words as in that grove I stood,

  That mournful voice still, still I bear in mind:

  And, as they were of flesh, the purple blood

  At every blow streams from the wounded rind;

  No, no, not I, nor any else, I trow,

  Hath power to cut one leaf, one branch, one bough.”

  L

  While thus he said, the Christian’s noble guide

  Felt uncouth strife in his contentious thought,

  He thought, what if himself in perzon tried

  Those witchcrafts strange, and bring those charms to naught,

  For such he deemed them, or elsewhere provide

  For timber easier got though further sought,

  But from his study he at last abraid,

  Called by the hermit old that to him said:

  LI

  “Leave off thy hardy thought, another’s hands

  Of these her plants the wood dispoilen shall,

  Now, now the fatal ship of conquest lands,

  Her sails are struck, her silver anchors fall,

  Our champion broken hath his worthless bands,

  And looseth from the soil which held him thrall,

  The time draws nigh when our proud foes in field

  Shall slaughtered lie, and Sion’s fort shall yield.”

  LII

  This said, his visage shone with beams divine,

  And more than mortal was his voice’s sound,