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Jerusalem Delivered

Page 207

by Torquato Tasso


  Could in his bosom quench that glorious fire.

  VI.

  ‘Sweno, the King of Denmark’s only son,

  The prop and glory of his falling years,

  Burned to be ranked with those that have girt on

  The sword ‘neath thee as Jesus’ cavaliers;

  Nor dread of danger, nor the fear of toil,

  Nor lust of rule, nor love of his old sire,

  Could his praiseworthy resolution foil,

  Or of his generous bosom quench the fire.

  VII.

  Lo spingeva un desio d’apprender l’arte

  Della milizia faticosa e dura

  Da te sì nobil mastro: e sentia in parte

  52 Sdegno e vergogna di sua fama oscura;

  Già di Rinaldo il nome in ogni parte

  Con gloria udendo in verdi anni matura:

  Ma più ch’altra cagione, il mosse il zelo

  56 Non del terren, ma dell’onor del Cielo.

  VII

  “He thirsted sore to learn this warlike art

  Of thee, great lord and master of the same;

  And was ashamed in his noble heart,

  That never act he did deserved fame;

  Besides, the news and tidings from each part

  Of young Rinaldo’s worth and praises came:

  But that which most his courage stirred hath,

  Is zeal, religion, godliness, and faith.

  VII.

  ‘He longed to learn the military art,

  And stern laborious warfare to endure

  ‘Neath thee, its master; and he felt in part

  Disgrace that his name should remain obscure,

  While upon all sides was Rinaldo’s heard,

  To whose green youth was golden glory given;

  But more than by all motives he was stirred,

  Not by mere earthly fame, but zeal for Heaven.

  VIII.

  Precipitò dunque gl’indugi, e tolse

  Stuol di scelti compagni audace e fero:

  E dritto inver la Tracia il cammin volse

  60 Alla Città che sede è dell’impero:

  Quì il Greco Augusto in sua magion l’accolse:

  Quì poi giunse in tuo nome un messaggiero:

  Questi appien gli narrò come già presa

  64 Fosse Antiochia, e come poi difesa.

  VIII

  “He hasted forward, then without delay,

  And with him took of knights a chosen band,

  Directly toward Thrace we took the way,

  To Byzance old, chief fortress of that land,

  There the Greek monarch gently prayed him stay,

  And there an herald sent from you we fand,

  How Antioch was won, who first declared,

  And how defended nobly afterward.

  VIII.

  ‘At last, delay he could no longer brook,

  But a bold squadron of associates chose,

  And straight his way towards distant Thracia took,

  Where the empire’s seat, august Byzantium, rose;

  There the Greek king received him in his hall,

  There, too, arrived a herald in thy name,

  Who did the news of mighty Antioch’s fall,

  How won it was, and then how held, proclaim —

  IX.

  Difesa incontra al Perso, il qual con tanti

  Uomini armati ad assediarvi mosse,

  Che sembrava che d’arme, e d’abitanti

  68 Voto il gran regno suo rimaso fosse.

  Di te gli disse, e poi narrò d’alquanti

  Sinch’a Rinaldo giunse, e quì fermosse:

  Contò l’ardita fuga, e ciò che poi

  72 Fatto di glorioso avea tra voi.

  IX

  “Defended gainst Corbana, valiant knight,

  That all the Persian armies had to guide,

  And brought so many soldiers bold to fight,

  That void of men he left that kingdom wide;

  He told thine acts, thy wisdom and thy might,

  And told the deeds of many a lord beside,

  His speech at length to young Rinaldo passed,

  And told his great achievements, first and last:

  IX.

  ‘Held ‘gainst the Persian, who besieged it then,

  And with such numbers the blockade maintained,

  It seemed as tho’ of all its arms and men

  That populous empire was entirely drained.

  Of thee he spoke, and many another knight,

  Until Rinaldo reaching, he delayed

  To tell the story of his daring flight,

  And of his glorious acts in the Crusade.

  X.

  Soggiunse alfin come già il popol Franco

  Veniva a dar l’assalto a queste porte:

  E invitò lui ch’egli volesse almanco

  76 Dell’ultima vittoria esser consorte.

  Questo parlare, al giovenetto fianco

  Del fero Sveno, è stimolo sì forte,

  Ch’ognora un lustro pargli infra’ Pagani

  80 Rotare il ferro, e insanguinar le mani.

  X

  “And how this noble camp of yours, of late

  Besieged had this town, and in what sort,

  And how you prayed him to participate

  Of the last conquest of this noble fort.

  In hardy Sweno opened was the gate

  Of worthy anger by this brave report,

  So that each hour seemed five years long,

  Till he were fighting with these Pagans strong.

  X.

  ‘And added, that to storm these gates, the Franks

  In force already congregated were;

  And then invited him to join their ranks,

  And in at least their crowning victory share.

  These words so fired the youthful Sweno’s breast,

  That every hour appeared to him an age

  Till ‘gainst the Turks he placed his lance in rest,

  And in their blood had quenched his noble rage.

  XI.

  Par che la sua viltà rimproverarsi

  Senta nell’altrui gloria, e se ne rode:

  E chi’l consiglia, e chi’l prega a fermarsi,

  84 O che non esaudisce, o che non ode.

  Rischio non teme, fuorchè ‘l non trovarsi

  De’ tuoi gran rischj a parte e di tua lode:

  Questo gli sembra sol periglio grave;88Degli altri o nulla intende, o nulla pave.

  XI

  “And while the herald told your fights and frays,

  Himself of cowardice reproved he thought,

  And him to stay that counsels him, or prays,

  He hears not, or, else heard, regardeth naught,

  He fears no perils but whilst he delays,

  Lest this last work without his help be wrought:

  In this his doubt, in this his danger lies,

  No hazard else he fears, no peril spies.

  XI.

  ‘It seemed he felt his indolence reproved

  By others’ glory, nor that thought could bear;

  Nor was by counsel or entreaty moved,

  Or that he would not list, or did not hear.

  No risk he feared, excepting not to find

  Himself in all thy risks and fame comprised;

  This was the gravest peril in his mind,

  Others he either saw not, or despised.

  XII.

  Egli medesmo sua fortuna affretta;

  Fortuna che noi tragge, e lui conduce:

  Peroch’appena al suo partire aspetta

  92 I primi rai della novella luce.

  È per miglior la via più breve eletta;

  Tale ei la stima, ch’è Signore, e Duce:

  Nè i passi più difficili o i paesi

  96 Schivar si cerca de’ nemici offesi.

  XII

  “Thus hasting on, he hasted on his death,

  Death that to him and us was fatal guide.

  Th
e rising morn appeared yet aneath,

  When he and we were armed, and fit to ride,

  The nearest way seemed best, o’er hold and heath

  We went, through deserts waste, and forests wide,

  The streets and ways he openeth as he goes,

  And sets each land free from intruding foes.

  XII.

  ‘And he himself precipitated fate,

  Fate which forced us, and led him willing on,

  So that he would not for his going wait,

  Ev’n for the rising of the morrow’s sun.

  To him the shorter seemed the better way:

  ’Twas that our lord and gallant leader chose;

  No pathless pass did his advance delay,

  Nor shunned he lands tho’ overrun by foes.

  XIII.

  Or difetto di cibo, or cammin duro

  Trovammo, or violenza, ed or aguati;

  Ma tutti fur vinti i disagj, e furo

  100 Or uccisi i nemici, ed or fugati.

  Fatto avean ne’ periglj ogni uom sicuro

  Le vittorie, e insolenti i fortunati:

  Quando un dì ci accampammo ove i confini

  104 Non lunge erano omai de’ Palestini.

  XIII

  “Now want of food, now dangerous ways we find,

  Now open war, now ambush closely laid;

  Yet passed we forth, all perils left behind,

  Our foes or dead or run away afraid,

  Of victory so happy blew the wind,

  That careless all the heedless to it made:

  Until one day his tents he happed to rear,

  To Palestine when we approached near.

  XIII.

  ‘Now toilsome march we met, now want of food,

  Now open force, now ambuscades; but those,

  And every other hardship, we subdued.

  Now slain, now routed, were our various foes;

  Success had confidence engendered, nay,

  Had made us both vainglorious and supine.

  At length encamped we were, one fatal day,

  Upon the boundaries of Palestine.

  XIV.

  Quivi, da’ precursori, a noi vien detto

  Ch’alto strepito d’arme avean sentito:

  E viste insegne e indizj, onde han sospetto

  108 Che sia vicino esercito infinito.

  Non pensier, non color, non cangia aspetto,

  Non muta voce il Signor nostro ardito;

  Benchè molti vi sian ch’al fero avviso

  112 Tingan di bianca pallidezza il viso.

  XIV

  “There did our scouts return and bring us news,

  That dreadful noise of horse and arms they hear,

  And that they deemed by sundry signs and shows

  There was some mighty host of Pagans near.

  At these sad tidings many changed their hues,

  Some looked pale for dread, some shook for fear,

  Only our noble lord was altered naught,

  In look, in face, in gesture, or in thought.

  XIV.

  ‘There from the watchful scouts our leaders learned

  That clank of arms they could distinctly hear;

  Had indications seen, and flags discerned,

  From which they judged a numerous force was near.

  Nor voice or colour, countenance or thought,

  Changed our bold leader when he heard the tale;

  Many there were tho’, when the news was brought,

  Whose cheeks from lily-livered fear grew pale,

  XV.

  Ma dice: oh quale omai vicina abbiamo

  Corona o di martirio, o di vittoria:

  L’una spero io ben più; ma non men bramo

  116 L’altra, ove è maggior merto, e pari gloria.

  Questo campo, o fratelli, ove or noi siamo,

  Fia tempio sacro ad immortal memoria:

  In cui l’età futura addíti e mostri

  120 Le nostre sepolture, o i trofei nostri.

  XV

  “But said, ‘A crown prepare you to possess

  Of martyrdom, or happy victory;

  For this I hope, for that I wish no less,

  Of greater merit and of greater glory.

  Brethren, this camp will shortly be, I guess,

  A temple, sacred to our memory,

  To which the holy men of future age,

  To view our graves shall come in pilgrimage.’

  XV.

  ‘But Sweno cried, “How near we now possess

  The victor’s laurel or the martyr’s crown!

  The first I hope for most, nor covet less

  That which has greater worth and like renown.

  This field, O brothers! where we are standing now

  A shrine of deathless memory will be,

  To which posterity will point, and show

  The tokens of our death or victory.”

  XVI.

  Così parla; e le guardie indi dispone,

  E gli ufficj comparte, e la fatica.

  Vuol ch’armato ognun giaccia, e non depone

  124 Ei medesmo gli arnesi, o la lorica.

  Era la notte ancor nella stagione

  Ch’è più del sonno e del silenzio amica;

  Allor che d’urli barbareschi udissi

  128 Romor che giunse al cielo ed agli abissi.

  XVI

  “This said, he set the watch in order right

  To guard the camp, along the trenches deep,

  And as he armed was, so every knight

  He willed on his back his arms to keep.

  Now had the stillness of the quiet night

  Drowned all the world in silence and in sleep,

  When suddenly we heard a dreadful sound,

  Which deafed the earth, and tremble made the ground.

  XVI.

  ‘This said, at once the sentries he disposed,

  Their various duties upon each assessed;

  He willed that none without being armed reposed,

  Nor of his armour would himself divest;

  Twas now that hour most friendly to repose

  And solemn silence, when a barbarous yell,

  So deafening, thro’ the startled welkin rose,

  That to high heaven it reached and down to hell.

  XVII.

  Si grida all’arme, all’arme; e Sveno, involto

  Nell’arme, innanzi a tutti oltre si spinge:

  E magnanimamente i lumi e ‘l volto

  132 Di color, d’ardimento, infiamma e tinge.

  Ecco siamo assaliti, e un cerchio folto

  Da tutti i lati ne circonda e stringe:

  E intorno un bosco abbiam d’aste e di spade,

  136 E sovra noi di strali un nembo cade.

  XVII

  “‘Arm, arm,’ they cried; Prince Sweno at the same,

  Glistering in shining steel leaped foremost out,

  His visage shone, his noble looks did flame,

  With kindled brand of courage bold and stout,

  When lo, the Pagans to assault us came,

  And with huge numbers hemmed us round about,

  A forest thick of spears about us grew,

  And over us a cloud of arrows flew:

  XVII.

  ‘“To arms! to arms!” a thousand voices cried,

  And Sweno, armed, before them all dashed on:

  The fire of battle his flushed features dyed,

  And in his eyes with light congenial shone,

  Attacked we were — encircling us there stood

  A serried circle of the Infidel;

  Around us swords and lances formed a wood,

  Above us showers of hissing arrows fell.

  XVIII.

  Nella pugna inegual (perocchè venti

  Gli assalitori sono incontra ad uno)

  Molti d’essi piagati, e molti spenti

  140 Son da cieche ferite all’aer bruno.

  Ma il numero degli egri e de’ cadenti
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  Fra l’ombre oscure non discerne alcuno.

  Copre la notte i nostri danni, e l’opre

  144 Della nostra virtute insieme copre.

  XVIII

  “Uneven the fight, unequal was the fray,

  Our enemies were twenty men to one,

  On every side the slain and wounded lay

  Unseen, where naught but glistering weapons shone:

  The number of the dead could no man say,

  So was the place with darkness overgone,

  The night her mantle black upon its spreads,

  Hiding our losses and our valiant deeds.

  XVIII.

  ‘In the unequal combat (for our foes

  At least had twenty soldiers to our one)

  Many were wounded by the random blows

  Struck under covert of the dusk; but none

  Distinguish could among the blinding shades,

  How many fell upon that fatal field,

  Since both our losses and heroic deeds

  Were by the nights Cimmerian shroud concealed.

  XIX.

  Pur sì fra gli altri Sveno alza la fronte,

  Ch’agevol è che ognun vedere il possa:

  E nel bujo sue prove anco son conte

  148 A chi vi mira, e l’incredibil possa.

  Di sangue un rio, d’uomini uccisi un monte

  D’ogn’intorno gli fanno argine, e fossa:

  E dovunque ne va sembra che porte

  152 Lo spavento negli occhj, e in man la morte.

  XIX

  “But hardy Sweno midst the other train,

  By his great acts was well descried I wot,

  No darkness could his valor’s daylight stain,

  Such wondrous blows on every side he smote;

  A stream of blood, a bank of bodies slain,

  About him made a bulwark, and a mote,

  And when soe’er he turned his fatal brand,

  Dread in his looks and death sate in his hand.

  XIX.

  ‘Still his bold brow so proudly Sweno raised,’

  That amid all ‘twere easy him to tell;

  Ev’n in the dark his prowess all amazed,

  His valiant deeds appeared incredible.

  A mound of dead — a stream of running gore

  Round him a rampire and a moat had made;

  Where’er he turned, the youthful hero bore

  Fright in his eyes — destruction in his blade.

  XX.

  Così pugnato fu, finchè l’albóre

  Rosseggiando nel Ciel già n’apparia.

 

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