Save that her honor, she esteemed above
Her life and body’s safety, told her no;
For in the secret of her troubled thought,
A doubtful combat, love and honor fought.
LXX.
But fearless Love had, more than any cause,
All terror banished from her tender breast:
She deemed not poisonous snakes, nor sharpest claws
Of Libyan lions, could her steps arrest;
But still, if all regardless of her life,
To guard her fame it did her sex behove,
Since two great foes maintained a doubtful strife
Within her heart: here Honour, and there Love.
LXXI.
L’un così le ragiona: o verginella,
Che le mie leggi insino ad or serbasti,
Io mentre ch’eri de’ nemici ancella,
564 Ti conservai la mente, e i membri casti:
E tu, libera, or vuoi perder la bella
Verginità che in prigionia guardasti?
Ahi nel tenero cor questi pensieri
568 Chi svegliar può? chè pensi?, oimè, chè speri?
LXXI
“O spotless virgin,” Honor thus begun,
“That my true lore observed firmly hast,
When with thy foes thou didst in bondage won,
Remember then I kept thee pure and chaste,
At liberty now, where wouldest thou run,
To lay that field of princely virtue waste,
Or lose that jewel ladies hold so dear?
Is maidenhood so great a load to bear?
LXXI.
‘O gentle virgin,’ thus the former said,
‘Who hast till now my rigid laws observed,
Reflect how I, when thou wert captive made,
Thy mind and limbs in chastity preserved;
And wilt thou, free, with maiden honour part,
So closely guarded in captivity?
Ah, who has roused such feelings in thy heart?
What thoughts mislead, what hopes inveigle thee?
LXXII.
Dunque il titolo tu d’esser pudíca
Sì poco stimi, e d’onestate il pregio;
Che te n’andrai fra nazion nemica,
572 Notturna amante, a ricercar dispregio?
Onde il superbo vincitor ti dica:
Perdesti il regno, e in un l’animo regio:
Non sei di me tu degna; e ti conceda
576 Volgare agli altri e mal gradita preda?
LXXII
“Or deem’st thou it a praise of little prize,
The glorious title of a virgin’s name?
That thou will gad by night in giglot wise,
Amid thine armed foes, to seek thy shame.
O fool, a woman conquers when she flies,
Refusal kindleth, proffers quench the flame.
Thy lord will judge thou sinnest beyond measure,
If vainly thus thou waste so rich a treasure.”
LXXII.
‘Dost deem the worth of chastity so low,
And maiden modesty so little prize,
As nightly paramour mid strangers go
And read thy shame in their contemptuous eyes?
Whence the disdainful conqueror may say,
Thy royal mind left with thy royalty,
Let others take such vulgar common prey,
I yield thee up, thou art not worthy me.’
LXXIII.
Dall’altra parte il consiglier fallace
Con tai lusinghe al suo piacer l’alletta:
Nata non sei tu già d’orsa vorace,
580 Nè d’aspro e freddo scoglio, o giovinetta,
Ch’abbia a sprezzar d’Amor l’arco e la face,
Ed a fuggir ognor quel che diletta:
Nè petto hai tu di ferro, o di diamante,
584 Che vergogna ti sia l’esser amante.
LXXIII
The sly deceiver Cupid thus beguiled
The simple damsel, with his filed tongue:
“Thou wert not born,” quoth he, “in desert wild
The cruel bears and savage beasts among,
That you shouldest scorn fair Citherea’s child,
Or hate those pleasures that to youth belong,
Nor did the gods thy heart of iron frame;
To be in love is neither sin nor shame.
LXXIII.
The sophist Love upon the other part
By these allurements led her fancy on:
‘Not born, fair girl, of savage bear thou art,
Nor sprung from rugged and unfeeling stone,
That Cupid’s torch and quiver thou shouldst spurn,
Or fly the soft inthralment of his flame;
Thy heart’s not made of adamant, to turn
His darts aside, or deem his calling shame.
LXXIV.
Deh vanne omai dove il desio t’invoglia.
Ma qual ti fingi vincitor crudele?
Non sai com’egli al tuo dolor si doglia,
588 Come compianga al pianto, alle querele?
Crudel sei tu, che con sì pigra voglia
Muovi a portar salute al tuo fedele.
Langue, o fera ed ingrata, il pio Tancredi:
592 E tu dell’altrui vita a cura siedi.
LXXIV
“Go then, go, whither sweet desire inviteth,
How can thy gentle knight so cruel be?
Love in his heart thy grief and sorrows writeth,
For thy laments how he complaineth, see.
Oh cruel woman, whom no care exciteth
To save his life, that saved and honored thee!
He languished, one foot thou wilt not move
To succor him, yet say’st thou art in love.
LXXIV.
‘Go then where’er Desire allureth thee.
Unkind perhaps thy conqueror appears?
Thou little know’st his sympathies, how he
Grieves with thy grief and weepeth with thy tears.
Tis thou art unkind, that with such sluggish will
Movest to tend thy love, who scarce survives;
Tancredi sinks, and yet thou sittest still
To watch, ungrateful, over others’ lives,
LXXV.
Sana tu pur Argante, acciocchè poi
Il tuo liberator sia spinto a morte.
Così disciolti avrai gli obblighi tuoi,
596 E sì bel premio fia ch’ei ne riporte.
È possibil però che non t’annoi
Quest’empio ministero or così forte,
Che la noja non basti e l’orror solo
600 A far che tu di qua ten fugga a volo?
LXXV
“No, no, stay here Argantes’ wounds to cure,
And make him strong to shed thy darling’s blood,
Of such reward he may himself assure,
That doth a thankless woman so much good:
Ah, may it be thy patience can endure
To see the strength of this Circassian wood,
And not with horror and amazement shrink,
When on their future fight thou hap’st to think?
LXXV.
‘Yes! heal Arganté that his murderous blade
The readier death of thy deliverer be;
Thus were thy heavy obligations paid,
Thus were returned his courtesies to thee!
But can it be thou dost not feel the vice
And degradation of that office so,
That its mere horror should alone suffice
To wing thy flight from thy friend’s mortal foe?
LXXVI.
Deh ben fora all’incontro uficio umano,
E ben n’avresti tu gioja e diletto,
Se la pietosa tua medica mano
604 Avvicinassi al valoroso petto;
Chè per te fatto il tuo signor poi sano
Colorirebbe il suo smarrito aspetto:
E le bellezze sue, che spente or sono,
608 Vagheggeresti in lui, quasi tuo dono.
LXXVI
“Besides the thanks and praises for the deed,
Suppose what joy, what comfort shalt thou win,
When thy soft hand doth wholesome plaisters speed,
Upon the breaches in his ivory skin,
Thence to thy dearest lord may health succeed,
Strength to his limbs, blood to his cheeks so thin,
And his rare beauties, now half dead and more,
Thou may’st to him, him to thyself restore.
LXXVI.
‘But on the other side, the task how grand!
How great would be thy joy and thy delight
To lay thy soothing sympathetic hand
Upon the bosom of the valorous knight!
And to behold his cheeks, now pale and wan,
Regain their roses ‘neath thy care, and view
That noble beauty, now so nearly gone,
Its former bloom, as if thy gift, renew!
LXXVII.
Parte ancor poi nelle sue lodi avresti,
E nell’opre ch’ei fesse alte e famose;
Ond’egli te d’abbracciamenti onesti
612 Faria lieta, e di nozze avventurose.
Poi mostra a dito, ed onorata andresti
Fra le madri Latine, e fra le spose
Là nella bella Italia, ov’è la sede
616 Del valor vero, e della vera fede.
LXXVII
“So shall some part of his adventures bold
And valiant acts henceforth be held as thine;
His dear embracements shall thee straight enfold,
Together joined in marriage rites divine:
Lastly high place of honor shalt thou hold
Among the matrons sage and dames Latine,
In Italy, a land, as each one tells,
Where valor true, and true religion dwells.”
LXXVII.
‘Then thou wouldst be a partner of his fame,
His glory share, so lofty and renowned;
Wouldst bear in marriage his illustrious name,
And loyal love thy happiness had crowned,
Then, pointed out and honoured, wouldst repair
To lovely Italy’s enchanting plains
(Midst Latin wives and Latin mothers), where
True valour lives and true religion reigns.’
LXXVIII.
Da tai speranze lusingata (ahi stolta!)
Somma felicitate a se figura.
Ma pur si trova in mille dubbj avvolta,
620 Come partir si possa indi sicura:
Perchè vegghian le guardie, e sempre in volta
Van di fuori al palagio, e su le mura:
Nè porta alcuna, in tal rischio di guerra,
624 Senza grave cagion mai si disserra.
LXXVIII
With such vain hopes the silly maid abused,
Promised herself mountains and hills of gold;
Yet were her thoughts with doubts and fears confused
How to escape unseen out of that hold,
Because the watchman every minute used
To guard the walls against the Christians bold,
And in such fury and such heat of war,
The gates or seld or never opened are.
LXXVIII.
Flattered by such fond hopes, (deluded maid!)
She pictured to herself joy most intense.
But in a thousand doubts involved, oft weighed
How she securely could depart from thence,
Since sentries on the alert patrolled around
The palace, and upon the walls kept guard;
Nor, in such risk of war, was ever found
Without grave cause a single gate unbarred.
LXXIX.
Soleva Erminia in compagnia sovente
Della Guerriera far lunga dimora.
Seco la vide il Sol dall’Occidente:
628 Seco la vide la novella aurora.
E quando son del dì le luci spente,
Un sol letto le accolse ambe talora:
E null’altro pensier, che l’amoroso,
632 L’una vergine all’altra avrebbe ascoso.
LXXIX
With strong Clorinda was Erminia sweet
In surest links of dearest friendship bound,
With her she used the rising sun to greet,
And her, when Phoebus glided under ground,
She made the lovely partner of her sheet;
In both their hearts one will, one thought was found;
Nor aught she hid from that virago bold,
Except her love, that tale to none she told.
LXXIX.
Erminia with the lovely Amazon
Was oft accustomed to prolong her stay;
Together saw them the declining sun,
Together saw them the ascending day,
And when he had his daily circuit run,
Their rest sometimes a single bed supplied,
Nor any thought, except of love alone,
Did either maiden from the other hide,
LXXX.
Questo sol tiene Erminia a lei secreto,
E se udita da lei talor si lagna,
Reca ad altra cagion del cor non lieto
636 Gli affetti, e par che di sua sorte piagna.
Or in tanta amistà, senza divieto,
Venir sempre ne puote alla compagna:
Nè stanza al giunger suo giamai si serra,
640 Siavi Clorinda, o sia in consiglio, o ‘n guerra.
LXXX
That kept she secret, if Clorinda heard
Her make complaints, or secretly lament,
To other cause her sorrow she referred:
Matter enough she had of discontent,
Like as the bird that having close imbarred
Her tender young ones in the springing bent,
To draw the searcher further from her nest,
Cries and complains most where she needeth least.
LXXX.
This fair Erminia did to none impart,
And if at times Clorinda heard her mourn,
To other cause she ascribed her heavy heart:
It seemed as though she wept her fate forlorn.
Each to the other without let could come,
So close their friendship was; and never closed
Against Erminia was Clorinda’s room,
Whether she had gone forth or there reposed.
LXXXI.
Vennevi un giorno ch’ella in altra parte
Si ritrovava, e si fermò pensosa,
Pur tra se rivolgendo i modi e l’arte
644 Della bramata sua partenza ascosa.
Mentre in varj pensier divide e parte
L’incerto animo suo che non ha posa;
Sospese di Clorinda in alto mira
648 L’arme, e le sopravveste: allor sospira.
LXXXI
Alone, within her chamber’s secret part,
Sitting one day upon her heavy thought,
Devising by what means, what sleight, what art,
Her close departure should be safest wrought,
Assembled in her unresolved heart
An hundred passions strove and ceaseless fought;
At last she saw high hanging on the wall
Clorinda’s silver arms, and sighed withal:
LXXXI.
One day she went, when in another part
Clorinda was, and paused in deep suspense,
Revolving in herself the means and art
By which to escape in secrecy from thence;
And while her thoughts in restless wild alarms
By various plans distracted were, she spied,
Suspended from aloft, her glittering arms
And snowy cloak: she saw them and she sighed.
LXXXII.
E tra se dice, sospirando: o quanto
Beata è la fortissima Donzella!
Quant’io la invidio! e non le in
vidio il vanto,
652 O ‘l femminil onor dell’esser bella.
A lei non tarda i passi il lungo manto:
Nè ‘l suo valor rinchiude invida cella;
Ma veste l’armi, e se d’uscirne agogna,
656 Vassene, e non la tien tema o vergogna.
LXXXII
And sighing, softly to herself she said,
“How blessed is this virgin in her might?
How I envy the glory of the maid,
Yet envy not her shape, or beauty’s light;
Her steps are not with trailing garments stayed,
Nor chambers hide her valor shining bright;
But armed she rides, and breaketh sword and spear,
Nor is her strength restrained by shame or fear.
LXXXII.
And sighing said, in admiration lost,
‘How happy is that brave intrepid fair!
Oh, how I envy her! but not the boast
And woman’s pride of loveliness so rare;
No envious cell confines her valour, no!
Nor cumbrous robes retard the heroic dame:
She dons her arms, and if she wish to go,
She goes; no fear restrains her and no shame.
LXXXIII.
Ah perchè forti a me Natura, e ‘l Cielo
Altrettanto non fer le membra, e ‘l petto,
Onde potessi anch’io la gonna, e ‘l velo
660 Cangiar nella corazza, e nell’elmetto?
Chè sì non riterrebbe arsura, o gelo,
Non turbo, o pioggia il mio infiammato affetto;
Ch’al Sol non fossi ed al notturno lampo,
664 Accompagnata o sola, armata in campo.
LXXXIII
“Alas, why did not Heaven these members frail
With lively force and vigor strengthen so
That I this silken gown and slender veil
Might for a breastplate and an helm forego?
Then should not heat, nor cold, nor rain, nor hail,
Nor storms that fall, nor blustering winds that blow
Withhold me, but I would both day and night,
In pitched field, or private combat fight.
LXXXIII.
‘Ah, why did Heaven and partial Nature fail
Me to endow with such stout limbs and breast,
That I might too my woman’s robe and veil
Exchange for corselet and for nodding crest?
Then neither storm, nor rain, nor heat, nor cold
Had stopped me from going armèd to the camp,
Attended, or alone and uncontrolled,
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