Himself for wonder with his hand he blist,
A bitter sorrow by the heart him bit,
Amazed, ashamed, disgraced, sad, silent, trist,
Alone he would all day in darkness sit,
Nor durst he look on man of worth or fame,
His pride late great, now greater made his shame.
XXIX
Nor yet was conscious of his fear, but saw.
When further on, the intolerable truth,
Indignant and dismayed, while ‘gan to gnaw
His heart remorse with its envenomed tooth.
Confounded, thence he slunk amid the crowd,
Burning, yet mute from bitter shame; nor dared
Raise up those features, formerly so proud,
To meet his peers’ reproachful, cold regard.
XXX.
Chiamato da Goffredo, indugia, e scuse
Trova all’indugio; e di restarsi agogna.
Pur va, ma lento: e tien le labbra chiuse,
236 O gli ragiona in guisa d’uom che sogna.
Difetto e fuga il Capitan conchiuse
In lui, da quella insolita vergogna,
Poi disse: or ciò che fia? forse prestigj
240 Son questi, o di natura alti prodigj?
XXX
Godfredo called him, but he found delays
And causes why he should his cabin keep,
At length perforce he comes, but naught he says,
Or talks like those that babble in their sleep.
His shamefacedness to Godfrey plain bewrays
His flight, so does his sighs and sadness deep:
Whereat amazed, “What chance is this?” quoth he.
“These witchcrafts strange or nature’s wonders be.
XXX
By Godfred summoned, he delays, and seeks
Excuse still further to prolong delay;
Still goes, but slowly, with closed lips, or speaks
As in their sleep unconscious dreamers may.
From his strange diffidence the chief concludes
Defeat and flight, and thus astonished, cries:
‘What means all this? is’t witchcraft that deludes,
Or Nature’s portents that appal the eyes?
XXXI.
Ma s’alcun v’è cui nobil voglia accenda
Di cercar que’ salvatichi soggiorni;
Vadane pure, e la ventura imprenda,
244 E nunzio almen più certo a noi ritorni.
Così diss’egli; e la gran selva orrenda
Tentata fu ne’ tre seguenti giorni
Da i più famosi: e pur alcun non fue
248 Che non fuggisse alle minacce sue.
XXXI
“But if his courage any champion move
To try the hazard of this dreadful spring,
I give him leave the adventure great to prove,
Some news he may report us of the thing:”
This said, his lords attempt the charmed grove,
Yet nothing back but fear and flight they bring,
For them inforced with trembling to retire,
The sight, the sound, the monsters and the fire.
XXXI
‘But if there’s one, the promptings of whose heart
To pierce the depths of that wild forest burn,
Let him essay the adventure and depart,
And with at least more certain news return.’
He ceased. The horrors of the haunted wood
Attempted were, on the three following days,
By the most famed, nor was there one that could
Withstand its menace and terrific blaze.
XXXII.
Era il Prence Tancredi intanto sorto
A sepellir la sua diletta amica:
E benchè in volto sia languido e smorto,
252 E mal atto a portar elmo o lorica,
Nulladimen, poichè ‘l bisogno ha scorto,
Ei non ricusa il rischio o la fatica:
Chè ‘l cor vivace il suo vigor trasfonde
256 Al corpo sì, che par ch’esso n’abbonde.
XXXII
This happed when woful Tancred left his bed
To lay in marble cold his mistress dear,
The lively color from his cheek was fled,
His limbs were weak his helm or targe to bear;
Nathless when need to high attempts him led,
No labor would he shun, no danger fear,
His valor, boldness, heart and courage brave,
To his faint body strength and vigor gave.
XXXII
Meanwhile, Tancredi had dejected gone
‘ To bury his dear friend; and tho’ his air
Despondent was, and his face pale and wan,
And he ill-fitted casque or mail to bear,
Yet when the need his noble nature found,
He nor the perils nor fatigues refused;
And with that vigour seemed his frame to abound,
Which in it had the quickening heart infused.
XXXIII.
Vassene il valoroso, in se ristretto
E tacito e guardingo, al rischio ignoto:
E sostien della selva il fero aspetto,
260 E ‘l gran romor del tuono e del tremoto:
E nulla sbigottisce: e sol nel petto
Sente, ma tosto il seda, un picciol moto.
Trapassa; ed ecco in quel silvestre loco
264 Sorge improvvisa la Città del foco.
XXXIII
To this exploit forth went the venturous knight,
Fearless, yet heedful; silent, well advised,
The terrors of that forest’s dreadful sight,
Storms, earthquakes, thunders, cries, he all despised:
He feared nothing, yet a motion light,
That quickly vanished, in his heart arised
When lo, between him and the charmed wood,
A fiery city high as heaven up stood.
XXXIII
Collected, silent, circumspect, the knight
Advanced, undaunted, to the risks unknown,
And bore unflinching the wood’s fearful sight,
The earthquake’s rumbling, and the thunder’s tone.
Nor felt alarm; and if within his heart
One flutter rose, it did as soon go down.
Forward he strode, when, lo! with sudden start,
Before him rose the fire-encircled town.
XXXIV.
Allor s’arretra, e dubbio alquanto resta,
Fra sè dicendo: or quì che vaglion l’armi?
Nelle fauci de’ mostri, e in gola a questa
268 Divoratrice fiamma andrò a gettarmi?
Non mai la vita, ove cagione onesta
Del comun pro la chieda, altri risparmi;
Ma nè prodigo sia d’anima grande
272 Uom degno; e tale è ben chi quì la spande.
XXXIV
The knight stepped back and took a sudden pause,
And to himself, “What help these arms?” quoth he,
“If in this fire, or monster’s gaping jaws
I headlong cast myself, what boots it me?
For common profit, or my country’s cause,
To hazard life before me none should be:
But this exploit of no such weight I hold,
For it to lose a prince or champion bold.
XXXIV
Aghast at this Tancredi backward draws:
‘Of what use here are weapons?’ he exclaims;
‘What! fling myself into those monsters’ jaws,
Or in the throat of you devouring flames?
Miser of life no knight should ever be,
When aught demands it for the common good;
But still not lavish it unworthily,
As in attempt so desperate he would.
XXXV.
Pur l’oste che dirà se indarno i’ riedo?
Qual’altra selva ha di troncar speranza?
Nè intentato lasciar vorrà
Goffredo
276 Mai questo varco; or s’oltre alcun s’avanza?
Forse l’incendio, che quì sorto i’ vedo,
Fia d’effetto minor che di sembianza.
Ma seguane che puote: e in questo dire
280 Dentro saltovvi. O memorando ardire!
XXXV
But if I fly, what will the Pagans say?
If I retire, who shall cut down this spring?
Godfredo will attempt it every day.
What if some other knight perform the thing?
These flames uprisen to forestall my way
Perchance more terror far than danger bring.
But hap what shall;” this said, he forward stepped,
And through the fire, oh wondrous boldness, leapt!
XXXV
‘Still if I fly, what will the army say?
What other forest can they hope to fell?
Godfred will never leave without essay
This pass. Perhaps, if I proceed, this hell
Of lurid fire I see, and curling smoke,
Is more in semblance than reality.
But come the worst!’ As thus the hero spoke,
He leaped within — O matchless gallantry
XXXVI.
Nè sotto l’arme già sentir gli parve
Caldo o fervor come di foco intenso:
Ma pur, se fosser vere fiamme o larve,
284 Mal potè giudicar sì tosto il senso:
Perchè repente, appena tocco, sparve
Quel simulacro, e giunse un nuvol denso
Che portò notte e verno: e ‘l verno ancora,
288 E l’ombra dileguossi in picciol’ora.
XXXVI
He bolted through, but neither warmth nor heat!
He felt, nor sign of fire or scorching flame;
Yet wist he not in his dismayed conceit,
If that were fire or no through which he came;
For at first touch vanished those monsters great,
And in their stead the clouds black night did frame
And hideous storms and showers of hail and rain;
Yet storms and tempests vanished straight again.
XXXVI
Nor ‘neath his armour seemed to feel whate’er
Of heat or fervour, as from fire intense;
Still if true flames, or phantoms false they were,
Ill could decide so soon his doubtful sense;
For, scarcely touched, the phantasm disappeared,
And a thick cloud the face of heaven o’erspread,
That night and winter brought; then shortly cleared
The shades away, and gloomy winter fled.
XXXVII.
Stupido si, ma intrepido rimane
Tancredi: e poi che vede il tutto cheto,
Mette sicuro il piè nelle profane
292 Soglie, e spia della selva ogni secreto.
Nè più apparenze inusitate e strane,
Nè trova alcun fra via scontro o divieto;
Se non quanto per se ritarda il bosco
296 La vista e i passi, inviluppato e fosco.
XXXVII
Amazed but not afraid the champion good
Stood still, but when the tempest passed he spied,
He entered boldly that forbidden wood,
And of the forest all the secrets eyed,
In all his walk no sprite or phantasm stood
That stopped his way or passage free denied,
Save that the growing trees so thick were set,
That oft his sight, and passage oft they let.
XXXVII
Astonished — yes! but firm Tancredi stood:
Then, seeing that quiet reigned on every side,
He boldly entered the unhallowed wood,
And all its secrets with attention eyed.
No more those strange appearances he sees,
Nor did he hindrance or prevention find,
Save where the gloomy and entangled trees
His steps retarded and his view confined.
XXXVIII.
Alfine un largo spazio in forma scorge
d’Anfiteatro: e non è pianta in esso;
Salvo che nel suo mezzo altero sorge,
300 Quasi eccelsa piramide, un cipresso.
Colà si drizza; e, nel mirar, s’accorge
Ch’era di varj segni il tronco impresso,
Simili a quei che in vece usò di scritto
304 L’antico già misterioso Egitto.
XXXVIII
At length a fair and spacious green he spied,
Like calmest waters, plain, like velvet, soft,
Wherein a cypress clad in summer’s pride,
Pyramid-wise, lift up his tops aloft;
In whose smooth bark upon the evenest side,
Strange characters he found, and viewed them oft,
Like those which priests of Egypt erst instead
Of letters used, which none but they could read.
XXXVIII
At length a spacious area he espied,
In form of amphitheatre; all bare
Of trees it was, save in the midst, where vied,
With lofty pyramids, a cypress; there
He bent his course, and saw, as he perused,
That the trunk different curious ciphers bore,
Like those antique, mysterious Egypt used
In place of writing in the days of yore.
XXXIX.
Fra i segni ignoti, alcune note ha scorte
Del sermon di Soria ch’ei ben possiede.
O tu che dentro ai chiostri della morte
308 Osasti por, guerriero audace, il piede;
Deh, se non sei crudel quanto sei forte,
Deh non turbar questa secreta sede.
Perdona all’alme omai di luce prive:
312 Non dee guerra co’ morti aver chi vive.
XXXIX
Mongst them he picked out these words at last,
Writ in the Syriac tongue, which well he could,
“Oh hardy knight, who through these woods hast passed:
Where Death his palace and his court doth hold!
Oh trouble not these souls in quiet placed,
Oh be not cruel as thy heart is bold,
Pardon these ghosts deprived of heavenly light,
With spirits dead why should men living fight?”
XXXIX
Amid those unknown signs some words appeared,
Inscribed in Syrian, which he understood.
‘O thou, that in these aisles of death hast dared
Thy impious foot, bold warrior, to intrude,
If thou be not as pitiless as brave,
Upon these secret haunts, ah, lightly tread!
Our spirits, sleeping in the lightless grave,
Respect; the living war not with the dead.’
XL.
Così dicea quel motto; egli era intento
Delle brevi parole ai sensi occulti.
Fremere intanto udia continuo il vento
316 Tra le frondi del bosco, e tra i virgulti:
E trarne un suon che flebile concento
Par d’umani sospiri e di singulti:
E un non so che confuso instilla al core
320 Di pietà, di spavento, e di dolore.
XL
This found he graven in the tender rind,
And while he mused on this uncouth writ,
Him thought he heard the softly whistling wind
His blasts amid the leaves and branches knit
And frame a sound like speech of human kind,
But full of sorrow grief and woe was it,
Whereby his gentle thoughts all filled were
With pity, sadness, grief, compassion, fear.
XL
Thus ran the inscription. While he sought to find
Of these few words the occult, mysterious sense,
He heard in ceaseless blasts the rising wind
Howl through the branches of the wood, and t
hence
Draw forth a sound that in itself expressed
The plaintive wail of human sobs and sighs,
Instilling vague sensations in his breast
Of pity, terror, sorrow, and surprise.
XLI.
Pur tragge alfin la spada, e con gran forza
Percuote l’alta pianta. Oh maraviglia!
Manda fuor sangue la recisa scorza,
324 E fa la terra intorno a se vermiglia.
Tutto si raccapriccia, e pur rinforza
Il colpo, e ‘l fin vederne ei si consiglia.
Allor, quasi di tomba, uscir ne sente
328 Un indistinto gemito dolente;
XLI
He drew his sword at last, and gave the tree
A mighty blow, that made a gaping wound,
Out of the rift red streams he trickling see
That all bebled the verdant plain around,
His hair start up, yet once again stroke he,
He nould give over till the end he found
Of this adventure, when with plaint and moan,
As from some hollow grave, he heard one groan.
XLI
With all his force, then, having drawn his sword,
He struck the tree, when, wonderful! the wound
Of the pierced bark such streams of blood outpoured,
That dyed in crimson was the earth around.
Tho’ startled greatly, he renewed the blow,
To see the end now most determined grown,
When there burst forth, as from the tomb, a low,
An indistinct, and melancholy moan.
XLII.
Che poi distinto in voci: Ahi troppo, disse,
M’hai tu, Tancredi, offeso: or tanto basti.
Tu dal corpo, che meco e per me visse,
332 Felice albergo già, mi discacciasti:
Perchè il misero tronco, a cui m’affisse
Il mio duro destino, anco mi guasti?
Dopo la morte gli avversarj tuoi,
336 Crudel, ne’ lor sepolcri offender vuoi?
XLII
“Enough, enough!” the voice lamenting said,
“Tancred, thou hast me hurt, thou didst me drive
Out of the body of a noble maid
Who with me lived, whom late I kept on live,
And now within this woful cypress laid,
My tender rind thy weapon sharp doth rive,
Cruel, is’t not enough thy foes to kill,
But in their graves wilt thou torment them still?
XLII
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