But now unites them close enough in death.
Still, ’tis some comfort if by anguish torn
Perish thou must, to share thy pyre, if I
Cannot thy bed: thy fate alone I mourn,
But not mine own, since at thy side I die.
XXXV.
Ed oh mia sorte avventurosa appieno!
O fortunati miei dolci martirj!
S’impetrerò che giunto seno a seno,
276 L’anima mia nella tua bocca io spiri;
E venendo tu meco a un tempo meno,
In me fuor mandi gli ultimi sospiri.
Così dice piangendo; ella ripiglia
280 Soavemente, e in tai detti il consiglia:
XXXV
“Yet happy were my death, mine ending blest,
My torments easy, full of sweet delight,
It this I could obtain, that breast to breast
Thy bosom might receive my yielded sprite;
And thine with it in heaven’s pure clothing drest,
Through clearest skies might take united flight.”
Thus he complained, whom gently she reproved,
And sweetly spake him thus, that so her loved:
XXXV
‘And oh! my lot how altogether blest,
How passing sweet my martyrdom would be,
Could I obtain, united breast to breast,
Within thy lips to breathe my soul away;
And that, expiring the same time with me,
Thou pour’dst in mine thy last, thy parting sighs! ‘
Thus through his scalding tears he spoke, and she
Him gently chid, and counselled in this wise:
XXXVI.
Amico, altri pensieri, altri lamenti
Per più alta cagione il tempo chiede.
Chè non pensi a tue colpe? e non rammenti
284 Qual Dio prometta ai buoni ampia mercede?
Soffri in suo nome, e fian dolci i tormenti,
E lieto aspira alla superna sede.
Mira il Ciel com’è bello, e mira il Sole,
288 Ch’a sè par che n’inviti, e ne console.
XXXVI
“Far other plaints, dear friend, tears and laments
The time, the place, and our estates require;
Think on thy sins, which man’s old foe presents
Before that judge that quits each soul his hire,
For his name suffer, for no pain torments
Him whose just prayers to his throne aspire:
Behold the heavens, thither thine eyesight bend,
Thy looks, sighs, tears, for intercessors send.”
XXXVI
‘Far other thoughts, and of a loftier kind,
Far other plaints, dear friend, this dread hour needs;
Why think not of thy sins, and call to mind
The crown God promises for virtuous deeds?
In His name borne, sweet will thy sufferings be,
‘With joy for His supernal seat prepare;
Behold the heavens, how beautiful, and see
The sun that cheers us and invites us there.’
XXXVII.
Quì il volgo de’ Pagani il pianto estolle:
Piange il fedel, ma in voci assai più basse.
Un non so chè d’inusitato e molle
292 Par che nel duro petto al Re trapasse.
Ei presentillo, e si sdegnò; nè volle
Piegarsi, e gli occhj torse, e si ritrasse.
Tu sola il duol comun non accompagni,
296 Sofronia, e pianta da ciascun non piagni.
XXXVII
The Pagans loud cried out to God and man,
The Christians mourned in silent lamentation,
The tyrant’s self, a thing unused, began
To feel his heart relent, with mere compassion,
But not disposed to ruth or mercy than
He sped him thence home to his habitation:
Sophronia stood not grieved nor discontented,
By all that saw her, but herself, lamented.
XXXVII
At this the Pagans wept aloud; their dole
The Faithful much more silently expressed,
And even something like compassion stole
(Unusual feeling) through the king’s hard breast;
He felt it coming, and was vexed, nor would
Yield — turned his eyes away, and left the spot
No tears, Sophronia, thy fair cheeks bedewed:
Wept by them all, alone thou weepest not
XXXVIII.
Mentre sono in tal rischio, ecco un guerriero
(Chè tal parea) d’alta sembianza, e degna:
E mostra d’arme, e d’abito straniero,
300 Che di lontan, peregrinando, vegna.
La tigre che sull’elmo ha per cimiero,
Tutti gli occhj a se trae; famosa insegna,
Insegna usata da Clorinda in guerra,
304 Onde la credon lei, nè ‘l creder erra.
XXXVIII
The lovers standing in this doleful wise,
A warrior bold unwares approached near,
In uncouth arms yclad and strange disguise,
From countries far, but new arrived there,
A savage tigress on her helmet lies,
The famous badge Clorinda used to bear;
That wonts in every warlike stowre to win,
By which bright sign well known was that fair inn.
XXXVIII
While in such risk they were, a warrior came
(At least he seemed such) of most princely mien,
Whose foreign arms and strange attire proclaim
That he in distant land had journeying been;
His helmet for its crest a tigress bore,
A badge that drew unto itself all eyes,
The badge Clorinda aye in battle wore,
Whence that ’tis she they rightly all surmise.
XXXIX.
Costei gl’ingegni femminili, e gli usi
Tutti sprezzò sin dall’età più acerba:
Ai lavori d’Aracne, all’ago, ai fusi
308 Inchinar non degnò la man superba:
Fuggì gli abiti molli, e i lochi chiusi;
Chè ne’ campi onestate anco si serba:
Armò d’orgoglio il volto, e si compiacque
312 Rigido farlo, e pur rigido piacque.
XXXIX
She scorned the arts these silly women use,
Another thought her nobler humor fed,
Her lofty hand would of itself refuse
To touch the dainty needle or nice thread,
She hated chambers, closets, secret news,
And in broad fields preserved her maidenhead:
Proud were her looks, yet sweet, though stern and stout,
Her dam a dove, thus brought an eagle out.
XXXIX
From childhood she, and now in maiden bloom,
All occupations of her sex disdained;
To needle, distaff, or Arachne’s loom,
To incline her haughty hand she never deigned;
Soft garments, too, and indoor life did spurn,
For virtue still may dwell in camps. She armed
With pride her countenance; to make it stem
Delighted her, and even stem, she charmed.
XL.
Tenera ancor, con pargoletta destra
Strinse, e lentò d’un corridore il morso:
Trattò l’asta e la spada, ed in palestra
316 Indurò i membri, ed allenogli al corso:
Poscia o per via montana, o per silvestra,
L’orme seguì di fier leone e d’orso:
Seguì le guerre, e in esse e fra le selve,
320 Fera agli uomini parve, uomo alle belve.
XL
While she was young, she used with tender hand
The foaming steed with froary bit to steer,
To tilt and tourney, wrestle in the sand,
To leave with speed
Atlanta swift arear,
Through forests wild, and unfrequented land
To chase the lion, boar, or rugged bear,
The satyrs rough, the fauns and fairies wild,
She chased oft, oft took, and oft beguiled.
XL
While yet a girl, she with her baby hand
Now urged, now checked the ardour of her horse,
Handled with master skill both spear and brand,
And nerved her limbs by wrestling for the course;
Then o’er the hills and woodlands wild pursued
The bear’s and lion’s track; then in the van
Of battle flashed, where she, as in the wood,
To man a beast appeared, to beasts a man.
XLI.
Viene or costei dalle contrade Perse,
Perchè ai Cristiani a suo poter resista;
Bench’altre volte ha di lor membra asperse
324 Le piaggie, e l’onda di lor sangue ha mista.
Or quivi in arrivando a lei s’offerse
L’apparato di morte a prima vista.
Di mirar vaga, e di saper qual fallo
328 Condanna i rei, sospinge oltre il cavallo.
XLI
This lusty lady came from Persia late,
She with the Christians had encountered eft,
And in their flesh had opened many a gate,
By which their faithful souls their bodies left,
Her eye at first presented her the state
Of these poor souls, of hope and help bereft,
Greedy to know, as is the mind of man,
Their cause of death, swift to the fire she ran.
XLI
From Persia now she came, with all her power
The Christians to resist, though often she
Had strown their mangled limbs upon the shore,
And with their blood encarnadined the sea.
Now on arriving from that distant clime,
The apparatus seen for death decreed,
Wishing to examine and to know what crime
The guilty doomed, she presses on her steed.
XLII.
Cedon le turbe, e i duo legati insieme
Ella si ferma a riguardar dappresso
Mira che l’una tace, e l’altro geme,
332 E più vigor mostra il men forte sesso.
Pianger lui vede in guisa d’uom, cui preme
Pietà, non doglia, o duol non di se stesso:
E tacer lei con gli occhj ai ciel sì fisa,
336 Ch’anzi ‘l morir par di quaggiù divisa.
XLII
The people made her room, and on them twain
Her piercing eyes their fiery weapons dart,
Silent she saw the one, the other ‘plain,
The weaker body lodged the nobler heart:
Yet him she saw lament, as if his pain
Were grief and sorrow for another’s smart,
And her keep silence so, as if her eyes
Dumb orators were to entreat the skies.
XLII
The crowd falls back, while she her palfrey reins,
The fettered victims to examine close.
She sees her silent, and that he complains,
And that the weaker sex more courage shows.
She sees him weep, like one compassion tries —
Not sorrow — or if sorrow, not his own;
While silent she to heaven so fixed her eyes,
That there her spirit seemed already flown.
XLIII.
Clorinda intenerissi, e si condolse
D’ambeduo loro, e lacrimonne alquanto.
Pur maggior sente il duol per chi non duolse,
340 Più la move il silenzio, e meno il pianto.
Senza troppo indugiare ella si volse
Ad un uom che canuto avea daccanto.
Deh dimmi, chi son questi? ed al martoro
344 Qual gli conduce o sorte, o colpa loro?
XLIII
Clorinda changed to ruth her warlike mood,
Few silver drops her vermeil cheeks depaint;
Her sorrow was for her that speechless stood,
Her silence more prevailed than his complaint.
She asked an aged man, seemed grave and good,
“Come say me, sir,” quoth she, “what hard constraint
Would murder here love’s queen and beauty’s king?
What fault or fare doth to this death them bring?”
XLIII
Clorinda, touched, their hapless fate condoles,
Nor can refrain from weeping, but appears
To feel for her more, who her grief controls;
Her silence more affects her than his tears.
Nor waited longer, but turned swiftly round
To an old grey-haired man. ‘Tell me,’ she said,
‘Who is this pair, and why together bound?
Is’t fate or crime that has them hither led?’
XLIV.
Così pregollo: e da colui risposto
Breve, ma pieno alle dimande fue.
Stupissi udendo, e immaginò ben tosto
348 Ch’egualmente innocenti eran que’ due.
Già di vietar lor morte ha in se proposto,
Quanto potranno i preghi o l’armi sue.
Pronta accorre alla fiamma, e fa ritrarla,
352 Che già s’appressa: ed ai ministri parla.
XLIV
Thus she inquired, and answer short he gave,
But such as all the chance at large disclosed,
She wondered at the case, the virgin brave,
That both were guiltless of the fault supposed,
Her noble thought cast how she might them save,
The means on suit or battle she reposed.
Quick to the fire she ran, and quenched it out,
And thus bespake the sergeants and the rout:
XLIV
Thus questioned, and to her demand received
An answer brief that told the whole event
Amazed she heard it, and at once believed
That each of them alike was innocent;
And having purposed to avert their fate,
Far as her arms could force or prayers persuade,
Rushed forward, and with haste precipitate
Removed the flames, and to the attendants said:
XLV.
Alcun non sia di voi, che ‘n questo duro
Uficio oltra seguire abbia baldanza,
Finch’io non parli al Re: ben v’assicuro,
356 Ch’ei non v’accuserà della tardanza.
Ubbidiro i sergenti, e mossi furo
Da quella grande sua regal sembianza.
Poi verso il Re si mosse, e lui tra via
360 Ella trovò, che ‘ncontra lei venia.
XLV
“Be there not one among you all that dare
In this your hateful office aught proceed,
Till I return from court, nor take you care
To reap displeasure for not making speed.”
To do her will the men themselves prepare,
In their faint hearts her looks such terror breed;
To court she went, their pardon would she get,
But on the way the courteous king she met.
XLV
I Let none of you that Aladine obey
Dare further in this hateful service stir
Until I speak with him; for this delay,
Rest well assured, no blame you will incur.’
The’ officers obeyed the maiden’s threat,
Awed by her princely and commanding air:
Then towards the king she hastened. Him she met
As he advanced to greet and honour her.
XLVI.
Io son Clorinda, disse; hai forse intesa
Talor nomarmi, e quì, Signor, ne vegno,
Per ritrovarmi teco alla difesa
364 Della fede comune, e del tuo regno.
Son pronta (imponi pure) a
d ogni impresa:
L’alte non temo, e l’umili non sdegno.
Voglimi in campo aperto, o pur tra ‘l chiuso
368 Delle mura impiegar, nulla ricuso.
XLVI
“Sir King,” quoth she, “my name Clorinda hight,
My fame perchance has pierced your ears ere now,
I come to try my wonted power and might,
And will defend this land, this town, and you,
All hard assays esteem I eath and light,
Great acts I reach to, to small things I bow,
To fight in field, or to defend this wall,
Point what you list, I naught refuse at all.”
XLVI
II — am Clorinda,’ she exclaimed. ‘Perchance
To thee, O king, my name is not unknown.
Here have I come to guard with sword and lance
Our common faith, and thy imperilled crown.
Some task impose: ‘gainst every toil I am steeled,
Nor fear the great, nor yet disdain the small,
Wilt thou I serve thee in the open field,
Or in the limits of the rampired wall.’
XLVII.
Tacque, e rispose il Re: qual sì disgiunta
Terra è dall’Asia, o dal cammin del Sole,
Vergine gloriosa, ove non giunta
372 Sia la tua fama, e l’onor tuo non vole?
Or che s’è la tua spada a me congiunta,
D’ogni timor m’affidi, e mi console.
Non, s’esercito grande unito insieme
376 Fosse in mio scampo, avrei più certa speme.
XLVII
To whom the king, “What land so far remote
From Asia’s coasts, or Phoebus’ glistering rays,
O glorious virgin, that recordeth not
Thy fame, thine honor, worth, renown, and praise?
Since on my side I have thy succors got,
I need not fear in these my aged days,
For in thine aid more hope, more trust I have,
Than in whole armies of these soldiers brave.
XLVII
She ceased, and thus the king: ‘O maiden rare,
What land from Asia’s so removed, what zone
So distant lies from the sun’s cycle, where
Thy fame has not arrived, thy glory flown?
If now thy sabre be with mine conjoined,
All fear departs and brighter prospects ope;
Not if united armies had combined,
For my deliverance had I surer hope.
Jerusalem Delivered Page 164
