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Jerusalem Delivered

Page 220

by Torquato Tasso


  The doubtful hazard of that bloody field.

  XCIII.

  Horror, affright, despair, and cruelty

  Stalk round the battle-field; in varied guise,

  Triumphant Death in every part you see,

  And lakes of blood, in crimson billows, rise.

  As tho’ presaging failure, with his train

  The king already had passed thro’ the gate,

  And from a height beheld the subject plain,

  Where battle trembled in the scales of Fate.

  XCIV.

  Ma come prima egli ha veduto in piega

  L’esercito maggior, suona a raccolta,

  E con messi iterati, instando, prega

  748 Ed Argante, e Clorinda a dar di volta.

  La fera coppia d’esequir ciò nega,

  Ebra di sangue, e cieca d’ira, e stolta;

  Pur cede alfine, e unite almen raccorre

  752 Tenta le turbe, e freno ai passi imporre.

  XCIV

  But when he saw the Pagans shrink away,

  He sounded the retreat, and gan desire

  His messengers in his behalf to pray

  Argantes and Clorinda to retire;

  The furious couple both at once said nay,

  Even drunk with shedding blood, and mad with ire,

  At last they went, and to recomfort thought

  And stay their troops from flight, but all for nought.

  XCIV.

  But when he saw the main force wavering, he

  Sounds the recall, and from the direful wrack

  Commands, with iterated urgency,

  Arganté and Clorinda to fall back.

  At first the savage couple disobeyed,

  Blinded with rage, and drunk and mad with ire;

  At last they yielded, but too late essayed

  To make the troops more orderly retire.

  XCV.

  Ma chi dà legge al volgo, ed ammaestra

  La viltade e ‘l timor? la fuga è presa.

  Altri gitta lo scudo, altri la destra

  756 Disarma: impaccio è il ferro, e non difesa.

  Valle è tra il piano e la Città, ch’alpestra

  Dall’Occidente al Mezzogiorno è stesa;

  Quì fuggon’ essi, e si rivolge oscura

  760 Caligine di polve inver le mura.

  XCV

  For who can govern cowardice or fear?

  Their host already was begun to fly,

  They cast their shields and cutting swords arrear,

  As not defended but made slow thereby,

  A hollow dale the city’s bulwarks near

  From west to south outstretched long doth lie,

  Thither they fled, and in a mist of dust,

  Toward the walls they run, they throng, they thrust.

  XCV.

  For who can rule a crowd, or govern fright,

  Or give faint-hearted cowards confidence?

  They fling away their arms and take to flight;

  The sword is now a burden, not defence.

  From west to south extends a rugged vale

  Between the town and camp; to this they fly,

  While, towards the walls, borne onwards by the gale,

  Black clouds of dust obscure the azure sky.

  XCVI.

  Mentre ne van precipitosi al chino,

  Strage d’essi i Cristiani orribil fanno;

  Ma poscia che, salendo, omai vicino

  764 L’ajuto avean del barbaro tiranno,

  Non vuol Guelfo d’alpestro erto cammino,

  Con tanto suo svantaggio, esporsi al danno;

  Ferma le genti, e ‘l Re le sue riserra,

  768 Non poco avanzo d’infelice guerra.

  XCVI

  While down the bank disordered thus they ran,

  The Christian knights huge slaughter on them made;

  But when to climb the other hill they gan,

  Old Aladine came fiercely to their aid:

  On that steep brae Lord Guelpho would not than

  Hazard his folk, but there his soldiers stayed,

  And safe within the city’s walls the king.

  The relics small of that sharp fight did bring:

  XCVI.

  As down the steep they rushed, upon their rear

  The Christians hanging, frightful carnage made,

  But afterwards, when mounting, they were near,

  And had received the barbarous tyrant’s aid,

  Guelph, at such disadvantage, would not run

  The risk of forcing the precipitous height,

  And checked his troops; the king withdrew his own,

  No small remains of that disastrous fight

  XCVII.

  Fatto intanto ha il Soldan ciò che è concesso

  Fare a terrena forza, or più non puote;

  Tutto è sangue e sudore, e un grave e spesso

  772 Anelar gli ange il petto, e i fianchi scuote.

  Langue sotto lo scudo il braccio oppresso;

  Gira la destra il ferro in pigre rote;

  Spezza, e non taglia, e divenendo ottuso,

  776 Perduto il brando omai di brando ha l’uso.

  XCVII

  Meanwhile the Soldan in this latest charge

  Had done as much as human force was able,

  All sweat and blood appeared his members large,

  His breath was short, his courage waxed unstable,

  His arm grew weak to bear his mighty targe,

  His hand to rule his heavy sword unable,

  Which bruised, not cut, so blunted was the blade

  It lost the use for which a sword was made.

  XCVII.

  Meanwhile, the soldan had done all Heaven grants

  To strength of mortal man; he can no more.

  His flanks upheave, as out of breath he pants,

  And down his face run streams of sweat and gore;

  ‘Neath the shield’s weight declines his languid arm;

  The sluggish steel can no effect produce;

  It breaks, but cuts not — blunt, it does no harm;

  The sabre now has lost a sabre’s use.

  XCVIII.

  Come sentissi tal, ristette in atto

  D’uom che fra due sia dubbio, e in se discorre

  Se morir debba, e di sì illustre fatto,

  780 Colle sue mani, altrui la gloria torre;

  O pur sopravanzando al suo disfatto

  Campo, la vita in sicurezza porre.

  Vinca (alfin disse) il Fato, e questa mia

  784 Fuga, il trofeo di sua vittoria sia.

  XCVIII

  Feeling his weakness, he gan musing stand,

  And in his troubled thought this question tossed,

  If he himself should murder with his hand,

  Because none else should of his conquest boast,

  Or he should save his life, when on the land

  Lay slain the pride of his subdued host,

  “At last to fortune’s power,” quoth he, “I yield,

  And on my flight let her her trophies build.

  XCVIII.

  And feeling this, he ponders in the act

  Of one that ‘twixt two projects doubtful stands;

  Whether to die, and of that glorious fact

  Rob others by his suicidal hands;

  Or, if surviving this disaster, wait,

  And place his person in security.

  At length he cried, ‘To thee I yield me, Fate!

  Let this my flight sign of thy triumph be.

  XCIX.

  Veggia il nemico le mie spalle, e scherna

  Di novo ancora il nostro esiglio indegno;

  Pur che di novo armato indi mi scerna

  788 Turbar sua pace, e ‘l non mai stabil regno.

  Non cedo io, nò: fia con memoria eterna

  Delle mie offese, eterno anco il mio sdegno.

  Risorgerò nemico ognor più crudo,

  792 Cenere anco sepolto, e spirto ignudo.

&nb
sp; XCIX

  “Let Godfrey view my flight, and smile to see

  This mine unworthy second banishment,

  For armed again soon shall he hear of me,

  From his proud head the unsettled crown to rent,

  For, as my wrongs, my wrath etern shall be,

  At every hour the bow of war new bent,

  I will rise again, a foe, fierce, bold,

  Though dead, though slain, though burnt to ashes cold.”

  XCIX.

  Canto decimo

  TENTH BOOK

  ARGOMENTO.

  Al Soldan che dormia, si mostra Ismeno,

  E occultamente entro a Sion l’ha posto.

  Quivi il vigor dell’animo, che meno

  Nel Re venia, costui rinfranca tosto.

  De’ suoi Goffredo ode gli errori appieno;

  Ma poi che di Rinaldo ha ognun deposto

  Ch’ei sia morto il timor, fa Piero aperto

  De’ nepoti di lui le lodi e ‘l merto.

  THE ARGUMENT.

  And into Sion brings the Prince by night

  Where the sad king sits fearful on his seat,

  Whom he emboldeneth and excites to fight;

  Godfredo hears his lords and knights repeat

  How they escaped Armida’s wrath and spite:

  Rinaldo known to live, Peter foresays

  His Offspring’s virtue, good deserts, and praise.

  I.

  Così dicendo ancor, vicino scorse

  Un destrier ch’a lui volse errante il passo:

  Tosto al libero fren la mano ei porse,

  4 E su vi salse, ancorch’afflitto e lasso.

  Già caduto è il cimier ch’orribil sorse,

  Lasciando l’elmo inonorato e basso:

  Rotta è la sopravesta, e di superba

  8 Pompa regal vestigio alcun non serba.

  I

  A gallant steed, while thus the Soldan said,

  Came trotting by him, without lord or guide,

  Quickly his hand upon the reins he laid,

  And weak and weary climbed up to ride;

  The snake that on his crest hot fire out-braid

  Was quite cut off, his helm had lost the pride,

  His coat was rent, his harness hacked and cleft,

  And of his kingly pomp no sign was left.

  I

  WHILE speaking thus, he spied upon the plain

  A steed direct towards him its errant course:

  At once he laid his hand upon the rein,

  And vaulted up, tho’ weak, upon the horse.

  Drooped is that crest which erst so fiercely rose

  Leaving the helm undignified and base;

  Torn is his surcoat, and no longer shows

  Of its once regal pomp the slightest trace.

  II.

  Come dal chiuso ovil cacciato viene

  Lupo talor, che fugge e si nasconde:

  Che sebben del gran ventre omai ripiene

  12 Ha l’ingorde voragini profonde;

  Avido pur di sangue anco fuor tiene

  La lingua, e ‘l sugge dalle labra immonde;

  Tale ei sen gía, dopo il sanguigno strazio,

  16 Della sua cupa fame anco non sazio.

  II

  As when a savage wolf chased from the fold,

  To hide his head runs to some holt or wood,

  Who, though he filled have while it might hold

  His greedy paunch, yet hungreth after food,

  With sanguine tongue forth of his lips out-rolled

  About his jaws that licks up foam and blood;

  So from this bloody fray the Soldan hied,

  His rage unquenched, his wrath unsatisfied.

  II

  As skulks away and hides himself a wolf

  (Driven from a sheep-fold), in the sheltering wood,

  Who, tho’ he have his stomach’s greedy gulf

  Filled to repletion, still athirst for blood

  The ravening glutton lolls his red tongue out,

  And from his slavering lips licks off the gore;

  So slunk the soldan from that bloody rout,

  Tho’ gorged with blood, still covetous for more.

  III.

  E come è sua ventura, alle sonanti

  Quadrella ond’a lui intorno un nembo vola,

  A tante spade, a tante lance, a tanti

  20 Instrumenti di morte alfin s’invola:

  E sconosciuto pur cammina innanti

  Per quella via ch’è più deserta e sola:

  E rivolgendo in se quel che far deggia,

  24 In gran tempesta di pensieri ondeggia.

  III

  And, as his fortune would, he scaped free

  From thousand arrows which about him flew,

  From swords and lances, instruments that be

  Of certain death, himself he safe withdrew,

  Unknown, unseen, disguised, travelled he,

  By desert paths and ways but used by few,

  And rode revolving in his troubled thought

  What course to take, and yet resolved on naught.

  III

  Escaping, as by Providence ordained,

  The clouds of arrows that around him flew,

  From swords, and spears, and instruments that rained

  Destruction round, in safety he withdrew.

  Then, wandering on, unheeded and unknown,

  The tracks most wild and unfrequented sought,

  Revolving what was wisest to be done,

  In a fierce tempest of distracting thought.

  IV.

  Disponsi alfin di girne ove raguna

  Oste sì poderosa il Re d’Egitto:

  E giunger seco l’arme, e la fortuna

  28 Ritentar anco di novel conflitto.

  Ciò prefisso tra se, dimora alcuna

  Non pone in mezzo, e prende il cammin dritto

  (Chè sa le vie, nè d’uopo ha di chi ‘l guidi)

  32 Di Gaza antica agli arenosi lidi.

  IV

  Thither at last he meant to take his way,

  Where Egypt’s king assembled all his host,

  To join with him, and once again assay

  To win by fight, by which so oft he lost:

  Determined thus, he made no longer stay,

  But thitherward spurred forth his steed in post,

  Nor need he guide, the way right well he could,

  That leads to sandy plains of Gaza old.

  IV

  At length he fixed to go where Egypt’s king

  His mighty host assembles, and imite

  With him his arms, and their leagued forces bring

  To try the fortune of another fight

  Resolved on this, he makes no vain delay,

  But thither by the shortest road proceeds;

  Nor needeth guide, since he well knows the way

  That to the coast of antique Gaza leads.

  V.

  Nè perchè senta inacerbir le doglie

  Delle sue piaghe, e grave il corpo ed egro,

  Vien però che si posi, e l’arme spoglie;

  36 Ma, travagliando, il dì ne passa integro.

  Poi quando l’ombra oscura al mondo toglie

  I varj aspetti, e i color tinge in negro,

  Smonta, e fascia le piaghe, e come puote

  40 Meglio, d’un’alta palma i frutti scuote.

  V

  Nor though his smarting wounds torment him oft,

  His body weak and wounded back and side,

  Yet rested he, nor once his armor doffed,

  But all day long o’er hills and dales doth ride:

  But when the night cast up her shade aloft

  And all earth’s colors strange in sables dyed,

  He light, and as he could his wounds upbound,

  And shook ripe dates down from a palm he found.

  V

  Nor, tho’ his wounds torment him, and the blows

  Dealt so severely in the late affray,


  Will he his armour doff, or seek repose,

  But in sore travail spends the livelong day.

  At length, when night earth’s various colours took,

  And all converted into one black suit,

  Dismounting, he bound up his wounds, and shook

  From a high palm, as best he could, the fruit

  VI.

  E cibato di lor, sul terren nudo

  Cerca adagiare il travagliato fianco,

  E, la testa appoggiando al duro scudo,

  44 Quetar i moti del pensier suo stanco.

  Ma d’ora in ora a lui si fa più crudo

  Sentire il duol delle ferite, ed anco

  Roso gli è il petto e lacerato il core

  48 Dagl’interni avoltoj, sdegno e dolore.

  VI

  On them he supped, and amid the field

  To rest his weary limbs awhile he sought,

  He made his pillow of his broken shield

  To ease the griefs of his distempered thought,

  But little ease could so hard lodging yield,

  His wounds so smarted that he slept right naught,

  And, in his breast, his proud heart rent in twain,

  Two inward vultures, Sorrow and Disdain.

  VI

  Refreshed therefrom, upon the naked field

  His jaded limbs to accommodate he sought,

  And his head pillowed on his iron shield,

  To calm the throbbings of o’erwearied thought.

  But, as each moment passed, still more and more

  He felt his wounds’ uneasiness and pain;

  Gnawed is his bosom, rent his heart’s proud core,

  By the inward vultures, sorrow and disdain.

  VII.

  Alfin, quando già tutte intorno chete

  Nella più alta notte eran le cose,

  Vinto egli pur dalla stanchezza, in Lete

  52 Sopì le cure sue gravi e nojose;

  E in una breve e languida quiete

  L’afflitte membra e gli occhj egri compose:

  E mentre ancor dormia, voce severa

  56 Gl’intonò su le orecchie in tal maniera:

  VII

  At length when midnight with her silence deep

  Did heaven and earth hushed, still, and quiet make,

  Sore watched and weary, he began to steep

  His cares and sorrows in oblivion’s lake,

  And in a little, short, unquiet sleep

  Some small repose his fainting spirits take;

  But, while he slept, a voice grave and severe

 

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