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Jerusalem Delivered

Page 193

by Torquato Tasso

LVII.

  L’onorò, la servì, di libertate

  Dono le fece il cavaliero egregio:

  E le furo da lui tutte lasciate

  452 Le gemme, e gli ori, e ciò ch’avea di pregio.

  Ella vedendo in giovinetta etate,

  E in leggiadri sembianti animo regio,

  Restò presa d’Amor, che mai non strinse

  456 Laccio di quel più fermo onde lei cinse.

  LVII

  He honored her, served her, and leave her gave,

  And willed her go whither and when she list,

  Her gold and jewels had he care to save,

  And them restored all, she nothing missed,

  She, that beheld this youth and person brave,

  When, by this deed, his noble mind she wist,

  Laid ope her heart for Cupid’s shaft to hit,

  Who never knots of love more surer knit.

  LVII.

  That chivalrous and noble cavalier

  Gave her her freedom, honoured her, obeyed,

  Leaving, with all that she esteemed most dear,

  Her wealth and jewels to the royal maid;

  Who, in his youthful person having found

  A princely soul combined with beauty rare,

  Fell deep in love; who firmer knot ne’er bound

  Than that with which he now encircled her.

  LVIII.

  Così se ‘l corpo libertà riebbe,

  Fu l’alma sempre in servitute astretta.

  Ben molto a lei d’abbandonar increbbe

  460 Il signor caro, e la prigion diletta;

  Ma l’onestà regal, che mai non debbe

  Da magnanima donna esser negletta,

  La costrinse a partirsi, e con l’antica

  464 Madre a ricoverarsi in terra amica.

  LVIII

  Her body free, captivated was her heart,

  And love the keys did of that prison bear,

  Prepared to go, it was a death to part

  From that kind Lord, and from that prison dear,

  But thou, O honor, which esteemed art

  The chiefest virtue noble ladies wear,

  Enforcest her against her will, to wend

  To Aladine, her mother’s dearest friend.

  LVIII.

  Thus still in slavery her soul remained,

  Though to her body freedom was restored,

  And deeply was the enamoured princess pained

  To leave her prison and her darling lord;

  But sovran modesty, which never should

  Neglected be by proud magnanimous dame,

  Forced her departure from the neighbourhood,

  Whence with her mother she to Salem came,

  LIX.

  Venne a Gerusalemme, e quivi accolta

  Fu dal Tiranno del paese Ebreo;

  Ma tosto pianse, in nere spoglie avvolta,

  468 Della sua genitrice il fato reo.

  Pur, nè ‘l duol che le sia per morte tolta,

  Nè l’esilio infelice unqua poteo

  L’amoroso desio sveller dal core,

  472 Nè favilla ammorzar di tanto ardore.

  LIX

  At Sion was this princess entertained,

  By that old tyrant and her mother dear,

  Whose loss too soon the woful damsel plained,

  Her grief was such, she lived not half the year,

  Yet banishment, nor loss of friends constrained

  The hapless maid her passions to forbear,

  For though exceeding were her woe and grief,

  Of all her sorrows yet her love was chief.

  LIX.

  A friendly country, and was there received

  By the fell tyrant of the Hebrew state,

  But soon of her dear mother was bereaved,

  And mourned in orphan weeds her hapless fate.

  Still grief, though rankling ‘neath Death’s keenest dart,

  Could not, nor ev’n could banishment, remove

  The amorous longings of her stricken heart,

  Or quench the flame of her deep-rooted love.

  LX.

  Ama, ed arde la misera, e sì poco

  In tale stato chè sperar le avanza,

  Che nudrisce nel sen l’occulto foco,

  476 Di memoria via più, che di speranza:

  E quanto è chiuso in più secreto loco,

  Tanto ha l’incendio suo maggior possanza.

  Tancredi alfine, a risvegliar sua spene,

  480 Sovra Gerusalemme ad oste viene.

  LX

  The silly maid in secret longing pined,

  Her hope a mote drawn up by Phoebus’ rays,

  Her love a mountain seemed, whereon bright shined

  Fresh memory of Tancred’s worth and praise,

  Within her closet if her self she shrined,

  A hotter fire her tender heart assays:

  Tancred at last, to raise her hope nigh dead,

  Before those walls did his broad ensign spread.

  LX.

  She loved, she burned in secret, and became

  So sad and hopeless — wretched girl — that she

  Within her bosom fed the hidden flame,

  Far less of hope, alas! than memory.

  Since the more stifled, all the greater strength

  Her burning thoughts and smouldering fire possessed.

  To Salem’s walls Tancredi came at length,

  And woke fresh hopes in her despondent breast.

  LXI.

  Sbigottir gli altri all’apparir di tante

  Nazioni, e sì indomite, e sì fere;

  Fè sereno ella il torbido sembiante,

  484 E lieta vagheggiò le squadre altere:

  E con avidi sguardi il caro amante

  Cercando gía fra quelle armate schiere.

  Cercollo invan sovente, ed anco spesso

  488 Raffigurollo; e disse: egli è pur desso.

  LXI

  The rest to view the Christian army feared,

  Such seemed their number, such their power and might,

  But she alone her troubled forehead cleared,

  And on them spread her beauty shining bright;

  In every squadron when it first appeared,

  Her curious eye sought out her chosen knight;

  And every gallant that the rest excels,

  The same seems him, so love and fancy tells.

  LXI.

  The others, panic-struck beheld with awe

  Those fierce, unconquered legions burst in sight;

  But she cleared up her clouded brow and saw

  The haughty troops with ill-repressed delight,

  And many fond inquiring glances threw

  To try the dear one ‘mid that host to see;

  Oft sought in vain, oft recognised him too,

  Exclaiming eagerly, ‘That — that is he!’

  LXII.

  Nel palagio regal sublime sorge

  Antica torre assai presso alle mura:

  Dalla cui sommità tutta si scorge

  492 L’oste Cristiana, e ‘l monte, e la pianura.

  Quivi, da che il suo lume il Sol ne porge,

  Infin che poi la notte il mondo oscura,

  S’asside, e gli occhj verso il campo gira,

  496 E co’ pensieri suoi parla, e sospira.

  LXII

  Within the kingly palace builded high,

  A turret standeth near the city’s wall,

  From which Erminia might at ease descry

  The western host, the plains and mountains all,

  And there she stood all the long day to spy,

  From Phoebus’ rising to his evening fall,

  And with her thoughts disputed of his praise,

  And every thought a scalding sigh did raise.

  LXII.

  In the imperial palace, near the wall,

  An ancient tower o’erlooks the wide champaign,

  From whose high top one can distinguish all

  The Chris
tian camp, the mountain and the plain.

  There from the dawn’s first blushes, until damp

  And gloomy night obscured the world, her eyes

  Moveless she fixed upon the Christian camp,

  Her thoughts communed with and outpoured her sighs;

  LXIII.

  Quinci vide la pugna, e ‘l cor nel petto

  Sentì tremarsi in quel punto sì forte,

  Che parea che dicesse: il tuo diletto

  500 È quegli là, che in rischio è della morte.

  Così, d’angoscia piena e di sospetto,

  Mirò i successi della dubbia sorte:

  E sempre che la spada il Pagan mosse,

  504 Sentì nell’alma il ferro e le percosse.

  LXIII

  From hence the furious combat she surveyed,

  And felt her heart tremble with fear and pain,

  Her secret thoughts thus to her fancy said,

  Behold thy dear in danger to be slain;

  So with suspect, with fear and grief dismayed,

  Attended she her darling’s loss or gain,

  And ever when the Pagan lift his blade,

  The stroke a wound in her weak bosom made.

  LXIII.

  Thence saw the fight, and was so deeply moved

  As she its changes watched with bated breath,

  That her heart seemed to whisper: ‘Thy beloved

  Is he that stands there in the risk of death,’

  Thus full of doubt and dread for her adored,

  She did each turn of the encounter feel;

  Each time the Pagan raised his cruel sword,

  Within her soul she felt the griding steel.

  LXIV.

  Ma poichè ‘l vero intese, e intese ancora

  Che dee l’aspra tenzon rinovellarsi;

  Insolito timor così l’accora,

  508 Che sente il sangue suo di ghiaccio farsi.

  Talor secrete lagrime, e talora

  Sono occulti da lei gemiti sparsi:

  Pallida, esangue, e sbigottita in atto,

  512 Lo spavento e ‘l dolor v’avea ritratto.

  LXIV

  But when she saw the end, and wist withal

  Their strong contention should eftsoons begin,

  Amazement strange her courage did appal,

  Her vital blood was icy cold within;

  Sometimes she sighed, sometimes tears let fall,

  To witness what distress her heart was in;

  Hopeless, dismayed, pale, sad, astonished,

  Her love, her fear; her fear, her torment bred.

  LXIV.

  But when she heard the truth, and also heard

  That to the sword they must again appeal,

  By such strange terror was her bosom stirred,

  That into ice she felt her blood congeal.

  Now tears in secret the sad maiden shed,

  Now sobs ill-stifled told her heart-felt care:

  Pale, woebegone, from fright and grief half dead,

  She looked the incarnation of despair.

  LXV.

  Con orribile imago il suo pensiero

  Ad or ad or la turba e la sgomenta:

  E via più che la morte il sonno è fiero;

  516 Sì strane larve il sogno le appresenta.

  Parle veder l’amato cavaliero

  Lacero e sanguinoso: e par che senta

  Ch’egli aita le chieda: e desta intanto,

  520 Si trova gli occhj e ‘l sen molle di pianto.

  LXV

  Her idle brain unto her soul presented

  Death in an hundred ugly fashions painted,

  And if she slept, then was her grief augmented,

  With such sad visions were her thoughts acquainted;

  She saw her lord with wounds and hurts tormented,

  How he complained, called for her help, and fainted,

  And found, awaked from that unquiet sleeping,

  Her heart with panting sore; eyes, red with weeping.

  LXV.

  With dreadful images her fancy teems,

  Which her repose disquiet and affright;

  Sleep is far worse than death, since in her dreams

  Such monstrous visions it presents: her knight,

  Her darling knight, she pictures in her mind,

  Mangled and bloody; his faint voice she hears

  Her aid imploring; when she wakes to find

  Her eyes and bosom bathed in real tears.

  LXVI.

  Nè sol la tema di futuro danno

  Con sollecito moto il cor le scuote;

  Ma delle piaghe, ch’egli avea, l’affanno

  524 È cagion che quetar l’alma non puote.

  E i fallaci romor, ch’intorno vanno,

  Crescon le cose incognite e remote:

  Sicch’ella avvisa, che vicino a morte

  528 Giaccia oppresso languendo il guerrier forte.

  LXVI

  Yet these presages of his coming ill,

  Not greatest cause of her discomfort were,

  She saw his blood from his deep wounds distil,

  Nor what he suffered could she bide or bear:

  Besides, report her longing ear did fill,

  Doubling his danger, doubling so her fear,

  That she concludes, so was her courage lost,

  Her wounded lord was weak, faint, dead almost.

  LXVI.

  Nor was it alone of future ills the dread

  That with such painful movement stirred her breast;

  But grief for wounds that he already had,

  Prevents her soul obtaining any rest

  And the false rumours that around are rife

  The distant unknown facts so magnify,

  That on the very verge of failing life

  She sees the sick and languid warrior lie.

  LXVII.

  E perocch’ella dalla madre apprese

  Qual più secreta sia virtù dell’erbe:

  E con quai carmi nelle membra offese

  532 Sani ogni piaga, e ‘l duol si disacerbe:

  Arte, che per usanza in quel paese

  Nelle figlie de’ Re par che si serbe;

  Vorria, di sua man propria, alle ferute

  536 Del suo caro signor recar salute.

  LXVII

  And for her mother had her taught before

  The secret virtue of each herb that springs,

  Besides fit charms for every wound or sore

  Corruption breedeth or misfortune brings, —

  An art esteemed in those times of yore,

  Beseeming daughters of great lords and kings —

  She would herself be surgeon to her knight,

  And heal him with her skill, or with her sight.

  LXVII.

  And since her mother had to her revealed

  The secret virtue that each herb contains,

  And by what potent charms all hurts are healed

  In wounded members, and assuaged their pains

  (An art which from old custom in that land,

  It seems king’s daughters jealously preserve);

  She wished to cure his wounds with her own hand,

  And to restore the dear one’s strength and nerve.

  LXVIII.

  Ella l’amato medicar desia,

  E curar il nemico a lei conviene.

  Pensa talor d’erba nocente e ria

  540 Succo sparger in lui che l’avvelene;

  Ma schiva poi la man vergine e pia

  Trattar l’arti maligne, e se n’astiene.

  Brama ella almen che in uso tal sia vota

  544 Di sua virtude ogn’erba, ed ogni nota.

  LXVIII

  Thus would she cure her love, and cure her foe

  She must, that had her friends and kinsfolk slain:

  Some cursed weeds her cunning hand did know,

  That could augment his harm, increase his pain;

  But she abhorred to be revenged so,

  No treason
should her spotless person stain,

  And virtueless she wished all herbs and charms

  Wherewith false men increase their patients’ harms.

  LXVIII.

  To cure her dear Tancredi she desired,

  And yet was fated to relieve his foe;

  And for a moment her dark thoughts conspired

  With noxious herbs to poison him; but no!

  Her virgin hands recoiled from all foul arts,

  And she abstained such treacherous means to use,

  But wished at least within her heart of hearts,

  For him her simples might their virtue lose.

  LXIX.

  Nè già d’andar fra la nemica gente

  Temenza avria; chè peregrina era ita:

  E viste guerre e stragi avea sovente,

  548 E scorsa dubbia e faticosa vita:

  Sicchè per l’uso la femminea mente

  Sovra la sua natura è fatta ardita:

  Nè così di leggier si turba, o pave

  552 Ad ogni immagin di terror men grave.

  LXIX

  Nor feared she among the bands to stray

  Of armed men, for often had she seen

  The tragic end of many a bloody fray;

  Her life had full of haps and hazards been,

  This made her bold in every hard assay,

  More than her feeble sex became, I ween;

  She feared not the shake of every reed,

  So cowards are courageous made through need.

  LXIX.

  Nor dreaded she to pass through hostile hordes,

  Since as a pilgrim she had often seen

  The fire of battle and the flash of swords;

  And her past life so sorely tried had been,

  That now from habit her soft gentle mind

  Against its nature had intrepid grown,

  Nor was so easily to fear inclined,

  Or start at dangers where existed none.

  LXX.

  Ma più ch’altra cagion, dal molle seno

  Sgombra Amor temerario ogni paura:

  E crederia fra l’ugne, e fra ‘l veneno

  556 Delle Africane belve andar sicura.

  Pur, se non della vita, avere almeno

  Della sua fama dee temenza e cura.

  E fan dubbia contesa entro al suo core

  560 Duo potenti nemici Onore, e Amore.

  LXX

  Love, fearless, hardy, and audacious love,

  Emboldened had this tender damsel so,

  That where wild beasts and serpents glide and move

  Through Afric’s deserts durst she ride or go,

 

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