Jerusalem Delivered

by Torquato Tasso

  Fight thou by counsel and command alone.

  LXIII.

  Ed io, bench’a gir curvo mi condanni

  La grave età, non fia che ciò ricusi.

  Schivino gli altri i marziali affanni;

  500 Me non vuò già che la vecchiezza scusi.

  Oh foss’io pur sul mio vigor degli anni

  Qual sete or voi, che quì temendo chiusi

  Vi state, e non vi move ira o vergogna

  504 Contra lui che vi sgrida, e vi rampogna:

  LXIII

  “Let me this Pagan’s glorious pride assuage,

  These aged arms can yet their weapons use,

  Let others shun Bellona’s dreadful rage,

  These silver locks shall not Raymondo scuse:

  Oh that I were in prime of lusty age,

  Like you that this adventure brave refuse,

  And dare not once lift up your coward eyes,

  Gainst him that you and Christ himself defies!

  LXIII.

  ‘But though old age condemns me to go bent,

  It never shall be said that I refuse.

  Let others shun war’s stern experiment,

  My years shall not my backwardness excuse.

  Oh, were I in the prime of life, like ye

  That trembling stand aloof, false cavaliers,

  Unmoved by shame or animosity

  ‘Gainst him who hurls such insults in your ears!

  LXIV.

  E quale allora fui, quando al cospetto

  Di tutta la Germania, alla gran corte

  Del secondo Corrado, apersi il petto

  508 Al feroce Leopoldo, e ‘l posi a morte.

  E fu d’alto valor più chiaro effetto

  Le spoglie riportar d’uom così forte,

  Che s’alcuno or fugasse, inerme e solo,

  512 Di questa ignobil turba un grande stuolo.

  LXIV

  “Or as I was when all the lords of fame

  And Germain princes great stood by to view,

  In Conrad’s court, the second of that name,

  When Leopold in single fight I slew;

  A greater praise I reaped by the same,

  So strong a foe in combat to subdue,

  Than he should do who all alone should chase

  Or kill a thousand of these Pagans base.

  LXIV.

  ‘Would I were what I was when in the view

  Of all Germania, at great Conrad’s court,

  His breast transfixing, Leopold I slew;

  My vigorous frame then needed no support:

  And was my prowess more distinctly shown

  In bringing back the spoils of such a knight,

  Than if one now, unarmed and all alone,

  Put hosts of you ignoble hordes to flight?

  LXV.

  Se fosse in me quella virtù, quel sangue,

  Di questo altier l’orgoglio avrei già spento.

  Ma qualunque io mi sia, non però langue

  516 Il core in me, nè vecchio anco pavento.

  E s’io pur rimarrò nel campo esangue,

  Nè il Pagan di vittoria andrà contento:

  Armarmi io vuò; sia questo il dì ch’illustri,

  520 Con novo onor, tutti i miei scorsi lustri.

  LXV

  “Within these arms, had I that strength again,

  This boasting Paynim had not lived till now,

  Yet in this breast doth courage still remain;

  For age or years these members shall not bow;

  And if I be in this encounter slain,

  Scotfree Argantes shall not scape, I vow;

  Give me mine arms, this battle shall with praise

  Augment mine honor, got in younger days.”

  LXV.

  ‘Could youthful blood once more such strength impart,

  I had already slain you cavalier;

  Such as I am, however, my stout heart

  Within me droops not — old, I feel no fear;

  And should I fall upon the battle-field,

  Victory, be sure, will cost the Pagan dear.

  Arm, arm I will, perhaps this day to gild

  With further honour still my past career.’

  LXVI.

  Così parla il gran vecchio; e sproni acuti

  Son le parole onde virtù si desta.

  Quei che fur prima timorosi e muti,

  524 Hanno la lingua or baldanzosa e presta.

  Nè sol non v’è che la tenzon rifiuti;

  Ma ella omai da molti a gara è chiesta.

  Baldovin la domanda, e con Ruggiero

  528 Guelfo, i due Guidi, e Stefano, e Gerniero;

  LXVI

  The jolly baron old thus bravely spake,

  His words are spurs to virtue; every knight

  That seemed before to tremble and to quake,

  Now talked bold, example hath such might;

  Each one the battle fierce would undertake,

  Now strove they all who should begin the fight;

  Baldwin and Roger both, would combat fain,

  Stephen, Guelpho, Gernier and the Gerrards twain;

  LXVI.

  Thus spake the sage. Like spurs, his words restore

  The dormant valour of both old and young,

  And those who timorous were and mute before,

  Are now most glib and daring with the tongue.

  Each now demands the combat for himself,

  Nor are there any show the slightest fear:

  It Baldwin craves, and with Ruggiero, Guelph,

  The brothers Guido, Stephen, and Gemier;

  LXVII.

  E Pirro, quel che fè il lodato inganno,

  Dando Antiochia presa a Boemondo;

  Ed a prova richiesta anco ne fanno

  532 Eberardo, Ridolfo, e ‘l prò Rosmondo:

  Un di Scozia, un d’Irlanda, ed un Britanno,

  Terre che parte il mar dal nostro mondo:

  E ne son parimente anco bramosi

  536 Gildippe ed Odoardo amanti e sposi.

  LXVII

  And Pyrrhus, who with help of Boemond’s sword

  Proud Antioch by cunning sleight opprest;

  The battle eke with many a lowly word,

  Ralph, Rosimond, and Eberard request,

  A Scotch, an Irish, and an English lord,

  Whose lands the sea divides far from the rest,

  And for the fight did likewise humbly sue,

  Edward and his Gildippes, lovers true.

  LXVII.

  And Pyrrhus, who the lauded stratagem made

  In giving Antioch to Boëmond;

  The same wish too most eagerly displayed

  Everard, Ridolpho, and brave Rosamond,

  One Scotch, one Irish, and one English, lands

  That from our world are parted by the sea;

  Gildippe and Edward make the same demands,

  Spouses that still uxorious lovers be.

  LXVIII.

  Ma sovra tutti gli altri il fiero vecchio

  Se ne dimostra cupido ed ardente.

  Armato è già; sol manca all’apparecchio

  540 Degli altri arnesi il fino elmo lucente.

  A cui dice Goffredo: o vivo specchio

  Del valor prisco, in te la nostra gente

  Miri, e virtù n’apprenda: in te di Marte

  544 Splende l’onor, la disciplina, e l’arte.

  LXVIII

  But Raymond more than all the rest doth sue

  Upon that Pagan fierce to wreak his ire,

  Now wants he naught of all his armors due

  Except his helm that shone like flaming fire.

  To whom Godfredo thus; “O mirror true

  Of antique worth! thy courage doth inspire

  New strength in us, of Mars in thee doth shine

  The art, the honor and the discipline.

  LXVIII.

  But the old count far more than any sought

  The danger and the glory of the task;


  Armed he already was, nor wanted aught

  To his complete equipment, save his casque.

  To whom, ‘O living mirror,’ Godfred said,

  ‘Of antique worth, may all beholding thee

  Catch the reflection which thy virtues shed,

  Thou soul of honour and bright chivalry.

  LXIX.

  Oh pur avessi fra l’etade acerba

  Dieci altri di valor al tuo simíle,

  Come ardirei vincer Babel superba,

  548 E la Croce spiegar da Battro a Tile.

  Ma cedi or, prego, e te medesmo serba

  A maggior opre, e di virtù seníle:

  E lascia che degli altri in picciol vaso

  552 Pongansi i nomi, e sia giudice il caso.

  LXIX

  “If ten like thee of valor and of age,

  Among these legions I could haply find,

  I should the best of Babel’s pride assuage,

  And spread our faith from Thule to furthest Inde;

  But now I pray thee calm thy valiant rage,

  Reserve thyself till greater need us bind,

  And let the rest each one write down his name,

  And see whom Fortune chooseth to this game, —

  LXIX.

  ‘O that I had ten other souls indued,

  Among our youth, with gallantry like thine;

  Ne’er would I rest till Babel were subdued,

  And spread from pole to pole the Cross divine.

  But yield, I pray thee, and reserve in turn

  Thyself for deeds more fitting age, nor grudge

  That the others cast their names into an urn,

  And from among them all let Fortune judge.

  LXX.

  Anzi giudice Dio, delle cui voglie

  Ministra e serva è la Fortuna, e ‘l Fato.

  Ma non però dal suo pensier si toglie

  556 Raimondo, e vuol’anch’egli esser notato.

  Nell’elmo suo Goffredo i brevi accoglie:

  E poi che l’ebbe scosso ed agitato,

  Nel primo breve che di là traesse,

  560 Del Conte di tolosa il nome lesse.

  LXX

  “Or rather see whom God’s high judgement taketh,

  To whom is chance, and fate, and fortune slave.”

  Raymond his earnest suit not yet forsaketh,

  His name writ with the residue would he have,

  Godfrey himself in his bright helmet shaketh

  The scrolls, with names of all the champions brave:

  They drew, and read the first whereon they hit,

  Wherein was “Raymond, Earl of Tholouse,” writ.

  LXX.

  ‘Nay, God be judge, the servants of whose will

  Are Fate and Fortune,’ the good prince exclaimed,

  But could not change Raimondo’s thoughts; he still

  Wished with the other champions to be named.

  The lots then Godfred in his helmet threw;

  And when well mixed and shaken were the same,

  In the first number that from it he drew,

  Was read the noble Count Toulouse’s name.

  LXXI.

  Fu il nome suo con lieto grido accolto:

  Nè di biasmar la sorte alcun ardisce.

  Ei di fresco vigor la fronte e ‘l volto

  564 Riempie: e così allor ringiovenisce,

  Qual serpe fier, che in nuove spoglie avvolto,

  D’oro fiammeggi, e incontra il Sol si lisce.

  Ma più d’ogn’altro il Capitan gli applaude,

  568 E gli annunzia vittoria, e gli dà laude.

  LXXI

  His name with joy and mighty shouts they bless;

  The rest allow his choice, and fortune praise,

  New vigor blushed through those looks of his;

  It seemed he now resumed his youthful days,

  Like to a snake whose slough new changed is,

  That shines like gold against the sunny rays:

  But Godfrey most approved his fortune high,

  And wished him honor, conquest, victory.

  LXXI.

  His name was welcomed with applausive cries,

  Nor any ventured Fortune’s choice to blame;

  Fresh vigour seemed to sparkle in his eyes,

  And he as lithe and juvenile became

  As when in summer garb a serpent drest

  Glistens with gold and shimmers in the sun.

  The captain cheered him more than all the rest,

  And augured victory as already won.

  LXXII.

  E la spada togliendosi dal fianco,

  E porgendola a lui, così dicea:

  Questa è la spada, che in battaglia il Franco

  572 Rubello di Sassonia oprar solea;

  Ch’io già gli tolsi a forza, e gli tolsi anco

  La vita allor di mille colpe rea.

  Questa, che meco ogn’or fu vincitrice,

  576 Prendi; e sia così teco ora felice.

  LXXII

  Then from his side he took his noble brand,

  And giving it to Raymond, thus he spake:

  “This is the sword wherewith in Saxon land,

  The great Rubello battle used to make,

  From him I took it, fighting hand to hand,

  And took his life with it, and many a lake

  Of blood with it I have shed since that day,

  With thee God grant it proves as happy may.”

  LXXII.

  And his own sabre taking from his flank,

  Gave it, and thus the gallant count addressed:

  ‘This is the sabre which the rebel Frank,

  Rodolph of Saxony, of yore possessed;

  From him I took it, and took with it too

  His life, by crimes innumerable stained.

  Take it, and may it in thy hands renew

  The laurels that in mine it has obtained.’

  LXXIII.

  Di loro indugio intanto è quell’altero

  Impaziente, e li minaccia, e grida:

  O gente invitta, o popolo guerriero

  580 D’Europa, un uomo solo è che vi sfida.

  Venga Tancredi omai che par sì fero,

  Se nella sua virtù tanto si fida;

  O vuol, giacendo in piume, aspettar forse

  584 La notte ch’altre volte a lui soccorse?

  LXXIII

  Of these delays meanwhile impatient,

  Argantes threateneth loud and sternly cries,

  “O glorious people of the Occident!

  Behold him here that all your host defies:

  Why comes not Tancred, whose great hardiment,

  With you is prized so dear? Pardie he lies

  Still on his pillow, and presumes the night

  Again may shield him from my power and might.

  LXXIII.

  Meanwhile, impatient at their long delay,

  The truculent Turk with threatening gesture cries:

  ‘Oh, unmatched people, Europe’s brave array,

  Behold one man your mighty host defies:

  Let Tancred come, who seemed so fierce of late,

  If he have such reliance as before;

  Or, couched on downy pillows, doth he wait

  For night to aid him, as it did of yore?

  LXXIV.

  Venga altri, s’egli teme: a stuolo a stuolo

  Venite insieme, o cavalieri, o fanti;

  Poichè di pugnar meco a solo a solo

  588 Non v’è fra mille schiere uom che si vanti.

  Vedete là il sepolcro, ove il figliuolo

  Di Maria giacque; or chè non gite avanti?

  Chè non sciogliete i voti? ecco la strada.

  592 A qual serbate uopo maggior la spada?

  LXXIV

  “Why then some other come, by band and band,

  Come all, come forth on horseback, come on foot,

  If not one man dares combat hand to hand,

  In all the thousands of so great a rout:
r />   See where the tomb of Mary’s Son doth stand,

  March thither, warriors hold, what makes you doubt?

  Why run you not, there for your sins to weep

  Or to what greater need these forces keep?”

  LXXIV.

  ‘But if he fear, let others come. Come all,

  Come horse and foot in one united band,

  Since’mid your hosts none answers to my call,

  Or dares to meet me singly hand to hand.

  Ye see the tomb where Mary’s Son once lay?

  Why not advance there, and your vows record.

  Why, cowards, pause? ye see where lies the way,

  Or do you keep for greater need your sword?’

  LXXV.

  Con tali scherni il Saracino atroce,

  Quasi con dura sferza, altrui percuote;

  Ma più ch’altri Raimondo a quella voce

  596 S’accende, e l’onte sofferir non puote.

  La virtù stimolata è più feroce,

  E s’aguzza dell’ira all’aspra cote:

  Sicchè tronca gl’indugj, e preme il dorso

  600 Del suo Aquilino, a cui diè ‘l nome il corso.

  LXXV

  Thus scorned by that heathen Saracine

  Were all the soldiers of Christ’s sacred name:

  Raymond, while others at his words repine,

  Burst forth in rage, he could not bear this shame:

  For fire of courage brighter far doth shine

  If challenges and threats augment the same;

  So that, upon his steed he mounted light,

  Which Aquilino for his swiftness hight.

  LXXV.

  The brutal Saracen with such-like taunts

  The Christians did as with a scourge inflame;

  But most of all beneath his braggart vaunts

  Raimondo writhed, nor could endure the shame.

  His valour, goaded, still more fierce became,

  And gained on wrath’s rough whetstone greater force;

  Sudden he sprang on Aquiline, whose name

  Was given from speed unrivalled in the course.

  LXXVI.

  Sul Tago il destrier nacque, ove talora

  L’avida madre del guerriero armento,

  Quando l’alma stagion che n’innamora,

  604 Nel cor le instiga il natural talento,

  Volta l’aperta bocca incontra l’ora,

  Raccoglie i semi del fecondo vento:

  E de’ tepidi fiati (o maraviglia!)

  608 Cupidamente ella concépe, e figlia.