Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  XLIX

  While thus the camp, and thus the town were bent,

  These to assault, these to defend the wall,

  A speedy dove through the clear welkin went,

  Straight o’er the tents, seen by the soldiers all;

  With nimble fans the yielding air she rent,

  Nor seemed it that she would alight or fall,

  Till she arrived near that besieged town,

  Then from the clouds at last she stooped down:

  L

  But lo, from whence I nolt, a falcon came,

  Armed with crooked bill and talons long,

  And twixt the camp and city crossed her game,

  That durst nor bide her foe’s encounter strong;

  But right upon the royal tent down came,

  And there, the lords and princes great among,

  When the sharp hawk nigh touched her tender head

  In Godfrey’s lap she fell, with fear half dead:

  LI

  The duke received her, saved her, and spied,

  As he beheld the bird, a wondrous thing,

  About her neck a letter close was tied,

  By a small thread, and thrust under her wing,

  He loosed forth the writ and spread it wide,

  And read the intent thereof, “To Judah’s king,”

  Thus said the schedule, “honors high increase,

  The Egyptian chieftain wisheth health and peace:

  LII

  “Fear not, renowned prince, resist, endure

  Till the third day, or till the fourth at most,

  I come, and your deliverance will procure,

  And kill your coward foes and all their host.”

  This secret in that brief was closed up sure,

  Writ in strange language, to the winged post

  Given to transport; for in their warlike need

  The east such message used, oft with good speed.

  LIII

  The duke let go the captive dove at large,

  And she that had his counsel close betrayed,

  Traitress to her great Lord, touched not the marge

  Of Salem’s town, but fled far thence afraid.

  The duke before all those which had or charge

  Or office high, the letter read, and said:

  “See how the goodness of the Lord foreshows

  The secret purpose of our crafty foes.

  LIV

  “No longer then let us protract the time,

  But scale the bulwark of this fortress high,

  Through sweat and labor gainst those rocks sublime

  Let us ascend, which to the southward lie;

  Hard will it be that way in arms to climb,

  But yet the place and passage both know I,

  And that high wall by site strong on that part,

  Is least defenced by arms, by work and art.

  LV

  “Thou, Raymond, on this side with all thy might

  Assault the wall, and by those crags ascend,

  My squadrons with mine engines huge shall fight

  And gainst the northern gate my puissance bend,

  That so our foes, beguiled with the sight,

  Our greatest force and power shall there attend,

  While my great tower from thence shall nimbly slide,

  And batter down some worse defended side;

  LVI

  “Camillo, thou not far from me shalt rear

  Another tower, close to the walls ybrought.”

  This spoken, Raymond old, that sate him near,

  And while he talked great things tossed in his thought,

  Said, “To Godfredo’s counsel, given us here,

  Naught can be added, from it taken naught:

  Yet this I further wish, that some were sent

  To spy their camp, their secret and intent,

  LVII

  “That may their number and their squadrons brave

  Describe, and through their tents disguised mask.”

  Quoth Tancred, “Lo, a subtle squire I have,

  A person fit to undertake this task,

  A man quick, ready, bold, sly to deceive,

  To answer, wise, and well advised to ask;

  Well languaged, and that with time and place,

  Can change his look, his voice, his gait, his grace.”

  LVIII

  Sent for, he came, and when his lord him told

  What Godfrey’s pleasure was and what his own,

  He smiled and said forthwith he gladly would.

  “I go,” quoth he, “careless what chance be thrown,

  And where encamped be these Pagans bold,

  Will walk in every tent a spy unknown,

  Their camp even at noon-day I enter shall,

  And number all their horse and footmen all;

  LIX

  “How great, how strong, how armed this army is,

  And what their guide intends, I will declare,

  To me the secrets of that heart of his

  And hidden thoughts shall open lie and bare.”

  Thus Vafrine spoke, nor longer stayed on this,

  But for a mantle changed the coat he ware,

  Naked was his neck, and bout his forehead bold,

  Of linen white full twenty yards he rolled.

  LX

  His weapons were a Syrian bow and quiver,

  His gestures barbarous, like the Turkish train,

  Wondered all they that heard his tongue deliver

  Of every land the language true and plain:

  In Tyre a born Phoenician, by the river

  Of Nile a knight bred in the Egyptian main,

  Both people would have thought him; forth he rides

  On a swift steed, o’er hills and dales that glides.

  LXI

  But ere the third day came the French forth sent

  Their pioneers to even the rougher ways,

  And ready made each warlike instrument,

  Nor aught their labor interrupts or stays;

  The nights in busy toll they likewise spent

  And with long evenings lengthened forth short days,

  Till naught was left the hosts that hinder might

  To use their utmost power and strength in fight.

  LXII

  That day, which of the assault the day forerun,

  The godly duke in prayer spent well-nigh,

  And all the rest, because they had misdone,

  The sacrament receive and mercy cry;

  Then oft the duke his engines great begun

  To show where least he would their strength apply;

  His foes rejoiced, deluded in that sort,

  To see them bent against their surest port:

  LXIII

  But after, aided by the friendly night,

  His greatest engine to that side he brought

  Where plainest seemed the wall, where with their might

  The flankers least could hurt them as they fought;

  And to the southern mountain’s greatest height

  To raise his turret old Raymondo sought;

  And thou Camillo on that part hadst thine,

  Where from the north the walls did westward twine.

  LXIV

  But when amid the eastern heaven appeared

  The rising morning bright as shining glass,

  The troubled Pagans saw, and seeing feared,

  How the great tower stood not where late it was,

  And here and there tofore unseen was reared

  Of timber strong a huge and fearful mass,

  And numberless with beams, with ropes and strings,

  They view the iron rams, the barks and slings.

  LXV

  The Syrian people now were no whit slow,

  Their best defences to that side to bear,

  Where Godfrey did his greatest engine show,

  From thence where late in vain they placed were:

  But he who at his back righ
t well did know

  The host of Egypt to be proaching near,

  To him called Guelpho, and the Roberts twain,

  And said, “On horseback look you still remain,

  LXVI

  “And have regard, while all our people strive

  To scale this wall, where weak it seems and thin,

  Lest unawares some sudden host arrive,

  And at our backs unlooked-for war begin.”

  This said, three fierce assaults at once they give,

  The hardy soldiers all would die or win,

  And on three parts resistance makes the king,

  And rage gainst strength, despair gainst hope doth bring.

  LXVII

  Himself upon his limbs with feeble eild

  That shook, unwieldy with their proper weight,

  His armor laid and long unused shield,

  And marched gainst Raymond to the mountain’s height;

  Great Solyman gainst Godfrey took the field;

  Fornenst Camillo stood Argantes straight

  Where Tancred strong he found, so fortune will

  That this good prince his wonted foe shall kill.

  LXVIII

  The archers shot their arrows sharp and keen,

  Dipped in the bitter juice of poison strong,

  The shady face of heaven was scantly seen,

  Hid with the clouds of shafts and quarries long;

  Yet weapons sharp with greater fury been

  Cast from the towers the Pagan troops among,

  For thence flew stones and clifts of marble rocks,

  Trees shod with iron, timber, logs and blocks.

  LXIX

  A thunderbolt seemed every stone, it brake

  His limbs and armors on whom so it light,

  That life and soul it did not only take

  But all his shape and face disfigured quite;

  The lances stayed not in the wounds they make,

  But through the gored body took their flight,

  From side to side, through flesh, through skin and rind

  They flew, and flying, left sad death behind.

  LXX

  But yet not all this force and fury drove

  The Pagan people to forsake the wall,

  But to revenge these deadly blows they strove,

  With darts that fly, with stones and trees that fall;

  For need so cowards oft courageous prove,

  For liberty they fight, for life and all,

  And oft with arrows, shafts, and stones that fly,

  Give bitter answer to a sharp reply.

  LXXI

  This while the fierce assailants never cease,

  But sternly still maintain a threefold charge,

  And gainst the clouds of shafts draw nigh at ease,

  Under a pentise made of many a targe,

  The armed towers close to the bulwarks press,

  And strive to grapple with the battled marge,

  And launch their bridges out, meanwhile below

  With iron fronts the rams the walls down throw.

  LXXII

  Yet still Rinaldo unresolved went,

  And far unworthy him this service thought,

  If mongst the common sort his pains he spent;

  Renown so got the prince esteemed naught:

  His angry looks on every side he bent,

  And where most harm, most danger was, he fought,

  And where the wall high, strong and surest was,

  That part would he assault, and that way pass.

  LXXIII

  And turning to the worthies him behind,

  All hardy knights, whom Dudon late did guide,

  “Oh shame,” quoth he, “this wall no war doth find,

  When battered is elsewhere each part, each side;

  All pain is safety to a valiant mind,

  Each way is eath to him that dares abide,

  Come let us scale this wall, though strong and high,

  And with your shields keep off the darts that fly.”

  LXXIV

  With him united all while thus he spake,

  Their targets hard above their heads they threw,

  Which joined in one an iron pentise make

  That from the dreadful storm preserved the crew.

  Defended thus their speedy course they take,

  And to the wall without resistance drew,

  For that strong penticle protected well

  The knights, from all that flew and all that fell.

  LXXV

  Against the fort Rinaldo gan uprear

  A ladder huge, an hundred steps of height,

  And in his arm the same did easily bear

  And move as winds do reeds or rushes light,

  Sometimes a tree, a rock, a dart or spear,

  Fell from above, yet forward clomb the knight,

  And upward fearless pierced, careless still,

  Though Mount Olympus fell, or Ossa hill:

  LXXVI

  A mount of ruins, and of shafts a wood

  Upon his shoulders and his shield he bore,

  One hand the ladder held whereon he stood,

  The other bare his targe his face before;

  His hardy troop, by his example good

  Provoked, with him the place assaulted sore,

  And ladders long against the wall they clap,

  Unlike in courage yet, unlike in hap:

  LXXVII

  One died, another fell; he forward went,

  And these he comforts, and he threateneth those,

  Now with his hand outstretched the battlement

  Well-nigh he reached, when all his armed foes

  Ran thither, and their force and fury bent

  To throw him headlong down, yet up he goes,

  A wondrous thing, one knight whole armed bands

  Alone, and hanging in the air, withstands:

  LXXVIII

  Withstands, and forceth his great strength so far,

  That like a palm whereon huge weight doth rest,

  His forces so resisted stronger are,

  His virtues higher rise the more oppressed,

  Till all that would his entrance bold debar,

  He backward drove, upleaped and possessed

  The wall, and safe and easy with his blade,

  To all that after came, the passage made.

  LXXIX

  There killing such as durst and did withstand,

  To noble Eustace that was like to fall

  He reached forth his friendly conquering hand,

  And next himself helped him to mount the wall.

  This while Godfredo and his people land

  Their lives to greater harms and dangers thrall,

  For there not man with man, nor knight with knight

  Contend, but engines there with engines fight.

  LXXX

  For in that place the Paynims reared a post,

  Which late had served some gallant ship for mast,

  And over it another beam they crossed,

  Pointed with iron sharp, to it made fast

  With ropes which as men would the dormant tossed,

  Now out, now in, now back, now forward cast.

  In his swift pulleys oft the men withdrew

  The tree, and oft the riding-balk forth threw:

  LXXXI

  The mighty beam redoubted oft his blows,

  And with such force the engine smote and hit,

  That her broad side the tower wide open throws,

  Her joints were broke, her rafters cleft and split;

  But yet gainst every hap whence mischief grows,

  Prepared the piece, gainst such extremes made fit,

  Launch forth two scythes, sharp, cutting, long and broad

  And cut the ropes whereon the engine rode:

  LXXXII

  As an old rock, which age or stormy wind

  Tears from some craggy hill or mountain steep,

  Doth break, doth b
ruise, and into dust doth grind

  Woods, houses, hamlets, herds, and folds of sheep,

  So fell the beam, and down with it all kind

  Of arms, of weapons, and of men did sweep,

  Wherewith the towers once or twice did shake,

  Trembled the walls, the hills and mountains quake.

  LXXXIII

  Victorious Godfrey boldly forward came,

  And had great hope even then the place to win;

  But lo, a fire, with stench, with smoke and flame

  Withstood his passage, stopped his entrance in:

  Such burning Aetna yet could never frame,

  When from her entrails hot her fires begin,

  Nor yet in summer on the Indian plain,

  Such vapors warm from scorching air down rain.

  LXXXIV

  There balls of wildfire, there fly burning spears,

  This flame was black, that blue, this red as blood;

  Stench well-nigh choked them, noise deafs their ears,

  Smoke blinds their eyes, fire kindleth on the wood;

  Nor those raw hides which for defence it wears

  Could save the tower, in such distress it stood;

  For now they wrinkle, now it sweats and fries,

  Now burns, unless some help come down from skies.

  LXXXV

  The hardy duke before his folk abides,

  Nor changed he color, countenance or place,

  But comforts those that from the scaldered hides

  With water strove the approaching flames to chase:

  In these extremes the prince and those he guides

  Half roasted stood before fierce Vulcan’s face,

  When lo, a sudden and unlooked-for blast

  The flames against the kindlers backward cast:

  LXXXVI

  The winds drove back the fire, where heaped lie

  The Pagans’ weapons, where their engines were,

  Which kindling quickly in that substance dry,

  Burnt all their store and all their warlike gear:

  O glorious captain! whom the Lord from high

  Defends, whom God preserves, and holds so dear;

  For thee heaven fights, to thee the winds, from far,

  Called with thy trumpet’s blast, obedient are!

  LXXXVII

  But wicked Ismen to his harm that saw

  How the fierce blast drove back the fire and flame,

  By art would nature change, and thence withdraw

  Those noisome winds, else calm and still the same;

  ‘Twixt two false wizards without fear or awe

  Upon the walls in open sight he came,

  Black, grisly, loathsome, grim and ugly faced,

  Like Pluto old, betwixt two furies placed;

  LXXXVIII

  And now the wretch those dreadful words begun,

  Which trouble make deep hell and all her flock,

  Now trembled is the air, the golden sun

  His fearful beams in clouds did close and lock,