Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  688 Addormentar le più svegliate menti.

  LXXXVI

  And when she saw her enterprise had got

  Some wished mean of quick and good proceeding,

  She thought to strike the iron that was hot,

  For every action hath his hour of speeding:

  Medea or false Circe changed not

  So far the shapes of men, as her eyes spreading

  Altered their hearts, and with her syren’s sound

  In lust, their minds, their hearts, in love she drowned.

  LXXXVI.

  Seeing thence that Fortune with benignant smiles

  This her first trial of deception viewed,

  She, dreading interruption to her wiles,

  The wicked work determines to conclude,

  And more performs by witchcraft of her eyes

  Than Circe or Medæa did of old,

  And with her voice’s siren melodies

  The most sagacious intellects cajoled.

  LXXXVII.

  Usa ogni arte la donna, onde sia colto

  Nella sua rete alcun novello amante:

  Nè con tutti, nè sempre un stesso volto

  692 Serba; ma cangia a tempo atti e sembiante.

  Or tien pudíca il guardo in se raccolto;

  Or lo rivolge cupido e vagante.

  La sferza in quegli, il freno adopra in questi,

  696 Come lor vede in amar lenti o presti.

  LXXXVII

  All wily sleights that subtle women know,

  Hourly she used, to catch some lover new.

  None kenned the bent of her unsteadfast bow,

  For with the time her thoughts her looks renew,

  From some she cast her modest eyes below,

  At some her gazing glances roving flew,

  And while she thus pursued her wanton sport,

  She spurred the slow, and reined the forward short.

  LXXXVII.

  All means the fair enchantress doth embrace

  By which to draw new lovers to her snares,

  Nor keeps with all or always the same face,

  But a changed aspect opportunely wears;

  A close collected look now chastely keeps,

  Now darts a wandering and voluptuous glance;

  These, too retiring, with the lash she whips,

  And reins back those, too swift in their advance.

  LXXXVIII.

  Se scorge alcun che dal suo amor ritiri

  L’alma, e i pensier per diffidenza affrene;

  Gli apre un benigno riso, e in dolci giri

  700 Volge le luci in lui liete e serene:

  E così i pigri e timidi desiri

  Sprona, ed affida la dubbiosa spene:

  Ed infiammando le amorose voglie,

  704 Sgombra quel gel che la paura accoglie.

  LXXXVIII

  If some, as hopeless that she would be won,

  Forebore to love, because they durst not move her,

  On them her gentle looks to smile begun,

  As who say she is kind if you dare prove her

  On every heart thus shone this lustful sun,

  All strove to serve, to please, to woo, to love her,

  And in their hearts that chaste and bashful were,

  Her eye’s hot glance dissolved the frost of fear.

  LXXXVIII.

  If she sees any from her love retire,

  Their thoughts restraining from timidity,

  She unmasks her smiles and on them opes the fire

  Of her destructive eyes’ artillery.

  The backward thus with courage she inspires,

  Assures the doubtful with fresh marks of cheer,

  Inflaming thence their amorous desires,

  Her burning glances thaw the frost of fear.

  LXXXIX.

  Ad altri poi, ch’audace il segno varca,

  Scorto da cieco e temerario duce,

  De’ cari detti, e de’ begli occhj è parca,

  708 E in lui timore e riverenza induce:

  Ma fra lo sdegno, onde la fronte è carca,

  Pur anco un raggio di pietà riluce;

  Sicch’altri teme ben, ma non dispera:

  712 E più s’invoglia, quanto appar più altera.

  LXXXIX

  On them who durst with fingering bold assay

  To touch the softness of her tender skin,

  She looked as coy, as if she list not play,

  And made as things of worth were hard to win;

  Yet tempered so her deignful looks alway,

  That outward scorn showed store of grace within:

  Thus with false hope their longing hearts she fired,

  For hardest gotten things are most desired.

  LXXXIX.

  To others, who o’erstep the boundaries,

  By Cupid’s blind adventurous guidance led,

  Sparing she is of her dear words and eyes,

  And frowns them into deference and dread;

  Still through her clouded brow and scornful air

  A ray of soft compassionate pity gleams,

  Whence, though abashed, they do not quite despair,

  And burn the most when she most haughty seems.

  — by

  XC.

  Stassi talvolta ella in disparte alquanto,

  E ‘l volto e gli atti suoi compone e finge

  Quasi dogliosa; e infin su gli occhj il pianto

  716 Tragge sovente, e poi dentro il respinge.

  E con quest’arti a lagrimar intanto

  Seco mill’alme semplicette astringe;

  E in fuoco di pietà strali d’amore

  720 Tempra, onde pera a sì fort’arme il core.

  XC

  Alone sometimes she walked in secret where,

  To ruminate upon her discontent,

  Within her eyelids sate the swelling tear,

  Not poured forth, though sprung from sad lament,

  And with this craft a thousand souls well near

  In snares of foolish ruth and love she hent,

  And kept as slaves, by which we fitly prove

  That witless pity breedeth fruitless love.

  XC.

  At times she leaves the crowd of cavaliers,

  Settling her manner and her face to feign

  A mournful look, and often draws the tears

  Up to her eyes, then drives them back again,

  Nor fails unnumbered simpletons to move

  By these beguiling, these deceitful arts;

  In pity’s flame thus tempering shafts of love,

  With such strong arms she pierces all their hearts.

  XCI.

  Poi, siccome ella a quei pensier s’invole,

  E novella speranza in lei si deste,

  Ver gli amanti il piè drizza, e le parole,

  724 E di gioja la fronte adorna e veste:

  E lampeggiar fa quasi un doppio Sole,

  Il chiaro sguardo, e ‘l bel riso celeste

  Su le nebbie del duolo oscure e folte,

  728 Ch’avea lor prima intorno al petto accolte.

  XCI

  Sometimes, as if her hope unloosed had

  The chains of grief, wherein her thoughts lay fettered,

  Upon her minions looked she blithe and glad,

  In that deceitful lore so was she lettered;

  Not glorious Titan, in his brightness clad,

  The sunshine of her face in lustre bettered:

  For when she list to cheer her beauties so,

  She smiled away the clouds of grief and woe.

  XCI.

  Then as if all such gloomy thoughts had gone,

  And fresh new hopes were wakened in her breast,

  On her fair forehead joy rekindled shone,

  And, turning back, her lovers she addressed,

  While, like twin suns, flash forth in full display

  Her sunny glance and her celestial smile,

  To chase the dark, dense clouds of grief away,

/>   In which their hearts she had involved erewhile.

  XCII.

  Ma mentre dolce parla, e dolce ride,

  E di doppia dolcezza inebria i sensi;

  Quasi dal petto lor l’alma divide,

  732 Non prima usata a quei diletti immensi.

  Ahi crudo Amor, ch’egualmente n’ancide

  L’assenzio e ‘l mel, che tu fra noi dispensi:

  E d’ogni tempo egualmente mortali

  736 Vengon da te le medicine e i mali.

  XCII

  Her double charm of smiles and sugared words,

  Lulled on sleep the virtue of their senses,

  Reason shall aid gainst those assaults affords,

  Wisdom no warrant from those sweet offences;

  Cupid’s deep rivers have their shallow fords,

  His griefs, bring joys; his losses, recompenses;

  He breeds the sore, and cures us of the pain:

  Achilles’ lance that wounds and heals again.

  XCII.

  But while she sweetly smiles and sweetly speaks,

  And doubly thus intoxicates the sense,

  To quit its home the ecstatic spirit seeks,

  Unused before to rapture so intense.

  Ah, cruel tyrant, Love! how equally.

  Thy bitter wormwood and sweet honey kill;

  Deadly the ailment and the remedy

  With which thou seek’st to cure that cureless ill.

  XCIII.

  Fra sì contrarie tempre, in ghiaccio e in foco,

  In riso e in pianto, e fra paura e spene,

  Inforsa ognun suo stato; e di lor gioco,

  740 L’ingannatrice donna, a prender viene.

  E s’alcun mai con suon tremante e fioco

  Osa, parlando, d’accennar sue pene;

  Finge, quasi in amor rozza e inesperta,

  744 Non veder l’alma ne’ suoi detti aperta.

  XCIII

  While thus she them torments twixt frost and fire,

  Twixt joy and grief, twixt hope and restless fear,

  The sly enchantress felt her gain the nigher,

  These were her flocks that golden fleeces bear:

  But if someone durst utter his desire,

  And by complaining make his griefs appear,

  He labored hard rocks with plaints to move,

  She had not learned the gamut then of love.

  XCIII.

  Thus by such opposite means, ‘twixt ice and fires,

  ‘Twixt joy and sorrow, between hopes and fears,

  The fair deceiver kindles their desires,

  And aye inconstant at their anguish jeers.

  If any dare with trembling voice the pains,

  The heart-felt pains that torture him, express,

  To be a novice in love’s way she feigns,

  Nor at the meaning of his words to guess.

  XCIV.

  O pur le luci vergognose e chine

  Tenendo, d’onestà s’orna e colora;

  Sicchè viene a celar le fresche brine

  748 Sotto le rose, onde il bel viso infiora.

  Qual nell’ore più fresche e mattutine

  Del primo nascer suo veggiam l’aurora;

  E ‘l rossor dello sdegno insieme n’esce

  752 Con la vergogna, e si confonde e mesce.

  XCIV

  For down she bet her bashful eyes to ground,

  And donned the weed of women’s modest grace,

  Down from her eyes welled the pearls round,

  Upon the bright enamel of her face;

  Such honey drops on springing flowers are found

  When Phoebus holds the crimson morn in chase;

  Full seemed her looks of anger, and of shame;

  Yet pity shone transparent through the same.

  XCIV.

  Or meekly casting down her eyes from him,

  Colours her cheeks with such shame-conscious grace

  As to conceal the rath and snowy rime

  Beneath the roses that now flush her face,

  Like those that in the glowing east proclaim

  In earliest, freshest hours Aurora’s birth;

  Confounded so, and blent with maiden shame,

  Shot the red flashes of her anger forth.

  XCV.

  Ma se prima negli atti ella s’accorge

  D’uom che tenti scoprir le accese voglie,

  Or gli s’invola e fugge, ed or gli porge

  756 Modo onde parli, e in un tempo il ritoglie.

  Così il dì tutto in vano error lo scorge,

  Stanco e deluso poi di speme il toglie.

  Ei si riman, qual cacciator, ch’a sera

  760 Perda alfin l’orma di seguita fera.

  XCV

  If she perceived by his outward cheer,

  That any would his love by talk bewray,

  Sometimes she heard him, sometimes stopped her ear,

  And played fast and loose the livelong day:

  Thus all her lovers kind deluded were,

  Their earnest suit got neither yea nor nay;

  But like the sort of weary huntsmen fare,

  That hunt all day, and lose at night the hare.

  XCV.

  If she sees one that by his manner strives

  His burning passion to reveal, she flies;

  Then to console him, means of speaking gives,

  And, with the breath that promises, denies.

  Thus tired, and all his expectations crossed,

  In a blind maze she leads him round all day,

  And he remains like hunter who has lost

  At eve all traces of his hunted prey.

  XCVI.

  Queste fur l’arti, onde mill’alme e mille

  Prender furtivamente ella poteo;

  Anzi pur furon l’arme, onde rapille

  764 Ed, a forza, d’Amor serve le feo.

  Qual maraviglia or fia, se’l fero Achille

  D’Amor fu preda, ed Ercole, e Teseo;

  S’ancor chi per Gesù la spada cinge,

  768 L’empio, ne’ laccj suoi talora stringe?

  XCVI

  These were the arts by which she captived

  A thousand souls of young and lusty knights;

  These were the arms wherewith love conquered

  Their feeble hearts subdued in wanton fights:

  What wonder if Achilles were misled,

  Of great Alcides at their ladies’ sights,

  Since these true champions of the Lord above

  Were thralls to beauty, yielden slaves to lore.

  XCVI.

  These were the arts by which she made such swarms

  The subtle influence of her empire prove;

  Nay, rather, were the irresistible arms

  That them enchained as bondslaves to her love.

  What marvel, then, that fierce Achilles was,

  That Hercules and Theseus were Love’s spoil,

  If even those who fight in Jesu’s cause

  Are caught at times in his entangling toil?

  Canto quinto

  FIFTH BOOK

  ARGOMENTO.

  Sdegna Gernando che Rinaldo aspire

  Al grado ov’egli esser assunto agogna:

  Perciò, ministro a se del suo morire,

  Lui, che l’uccide poi, forte rampogna.

  Va l’uccisor in bando: nè patire

  Vuol che catena, o ceppi altri gli pogna.

  Parte Armida contenta; ma dal mare

  Vengono al gran Buglion novelle amare.

  THE ARGUMENT.

  To rule that charge for which he seeks and strives,

  And slanders him so far, that in his ire

  The wronged knight his foe of life deprives:

  Far from the camp the slayer doth retire,

  Nor lets himself be bound in chains or gyves:

  Armide departs content, and from the seas

  Godfrey hears news which him and his displease.

  I.

  Mentr
e in tal guisa i cavalieri alletta

  Nell’amor suo l’insidiosa Armida,

  Nè solo i dieci a lei promessi aspetta,

  4 Ma di furto menarne altri confida;

  Volge tra se Goffredo a cui commetta

  La dubbia impresa, ov’ella esser dee guida;

  Chè degli avventurier la copia e ‘l merto,

  8 E ‘l desir di ciascuno il fanno incerto.

  I

  While thus Armida false the knights misled

  In wandering errors of deceitful love,

  And thought, besides the champions promised,

  The other lordlings in her aid to move,

  In Godfrey’s thought a strong contention bred

  Who fittest were this hazard great to prove;

  For all the worthies of the adventures’ band

  Were like in birth, in power, in strength of hand.

  I.

  WHILE to her love the insidious siren lured

  The cavaliers, in such seductive guise,

  Nor had alone the promised ten secured,

  But in addition, to steal others tries;

  Within himself the anxious chief demurs,

  To whom the emprise entrust, with her for guide,

  Since the great worth of the Adventurers,

  And wish of each, much room for choice supplied.

  II.

  Ma con provido avviso alfin dispone,

  Ch’essi un di loro scelgano a sua voglia,

  Che succeda al magnanimo Dudone,

  12 E quella elezion sovra se toglia.

  Così non avverrà ch’ei dia cagione

  Ad alcun d’essi che di lui si doglia:

  E insieme mostrerà d’aver nel pregio,

  16 In cui debbe a ragion, lo stuolo egregio.

  II

  But first the prince, by grave advice, decreed

  They should some knight choose at their own election,

  That in his charge Lord Dudon might succeed,

  And of that glorious troop should take protection;

  So none should grieve, displeased with the deed,

  Nor blame the causer of their new subjection:

  Besides, Godfredo showed by this device,

  How much he held that regiment in price.

  II.

  But he at length with cautious ken decreed

  That freely from their body they should make

  Choice of a chief, Dudoné to succeed,

  Who the selection on himself might take;

  Thus cause of jealousy he would not sow,