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Jerusalem Delivered

Page 293

by Torquato Tasso

Not fight it was, but simple butchery:

  Here was the steel, and there the victim’s throat!

  LVII.

  Ma non lunga stagion volgon la faccia,

  Ricevendo le piaghe in nobil parte.

  Fuggon le turbe: e sì il timor le caccia,

  452 Ch’ogni ordinanza lor scompagna e parte.

  Ma segue pur senza lasciar la traccia,

  Sinchè le ha in tutto dissipate e sparte:

  Poi si raccoglie il vincitor veloce,

  456 Che sovra i più fugaci è men feroce.

  LVII

  Small while they stood, with heart and hardy face,

  On their bold breasts deep wounds and hurts to bear,

  But fled away, and troubled in the chase

  Their ranks disordered be with too much fear:

  Rinaldo followed them from place to place,

  Till quite discomfit and dispersed they were.

  That done, he stays, and all his knights recalls,

  And scorns to strike his foe that flies or falls.

  LVII

  But not for long their foes the Pagans faced,

  Or wounds received in noble parts; away

  The masses fled, by panic fear so chased

  That all were thrown in wildest disarray.

  Still the Franks followed on the Pagans’ trace,

  Till at all points they were discomfited;

  The impetuous victor then relaxed his pace;

  Less fierce he was ‘gainst those that fastest fled.

  LVIII.

  Qual vento a cui s’oppone o selva o colle,

  Doppia nella contesa i soffj e l’ira;

  Ma con fiato più placido e più molle

  460 Per le campagne libere poi spira.

  Come fra scoglj il mar spuma e ribolle:

  E nell’aperto onde più chete aggira.

  Così quanto contrasto avea men saldo,

  464 Tanto scemava il suo furor Rinaldo.

  LVIII

  Like as the wind stopped by some wood or hill,

  Grows strong and fierce, tears boughs and trees in twain,

  But with mild blasts, more temperate, gentle, still,

  Blows through the ample field or spacious plain;

  Against the rocks as sea-waves murmur shrill,

  But silent pass amid the open main:

  Rinaldo so, when none his force withstood,

  Assuaged his fury, calmed his angry mood;

  LVIII

  As the north wind, which hills and woods oppose,

  Its force redoubles and its ire unchains,

  But with a breath more soft and gentle blows,

  When unresisted, o’er the level plains.

  Or as, ‘mid rocks, the billows foam and fret,

  But lose their fury in the open sea,

  So the less opposition that he met,

  Decreased Rinaldo’s animosity.

  LIX.

  Poichè sdegnossi in fuggitivo dorso

  Le nobil’ire ir consumando invano;

  Verso la fanteria voltò il suo corso,

  468 Ch’ebbe l’Arabo al fianco, e l’Africano;

  Or nuda è da quel lato, e chi soccorso

  Dar le doveva, o giace od è lontano.

  Vien da traverso, e le pedestri schiere

  472 La gente d’arme impetuosa fere.

  LIX

  He scorned upon their fearful backs that fled

  To wreak his ire and spend his force in vain,

  But gainst the footmen strong his troops he led,

  Whose side the Moors had open left and plain,

  The Africans that should have succored

  That battle, all were run away or slain,

  Upon their flank with force and courage stout

  His men at arms assailed the bands on foot:

  LIX

  But when, ashamed his noble rage to waste

  Ignobly ‘gainst the flying foeman’s back,

  ‘Gainst the infantry, that had the Arabs placed

  To flank it, he directed his attack.

  There ’twas exposed, those absent being or dead

  Who at that juncture should have rendered aid;

  He came athwart it, charging, at the head

  Of his bold men at arms, the foot brigade,

  LX.

  Ruppe l’aste, e gl’intoppi, e ‘l violento

  Impeto vinse, e penetrò fra esse:

  Le sparse, e le atterrò: tempesta o vento

  476 Men tosto abbatte la pieghevol messe.

  Lastricato col sangue è il pavimento

  D’arme e di membra perforate e fesse:

  E la cavalleria correndo il calca

  480 Senza ritegno, e fera oltra sen valca.

  LX

  He brake their pikes, and brake their close array,

  Entered their battle, felled them down around,

  So wind or tempest with impetuous sway

  The ears of ripened corn strikes flat to ground:

  With blood, arms, bodies dead, the hardened clay

  Plastered the earth, no grass nor green was found;

  The horsemen running through and through their bands,

  Kill, murder, slay, few scape, not one withstands.

  LX

  And burst thro’ all defence, and ‘mid their ranks

  Was by sheer force of the momentum borne;

  Down, down they fell before the impetuous Franks:

  Whirlwind less quickly lays the pliant corn.

  With blood of mangled limbs, with swords and spears,

  Paved was the reeking field, and under foot

  The Turks were trampled by the cavaliers,

  Who o’er them swept, nor paused in their pursuit.

  LXI.

  Giunse Rinaldo ove, sul carro aurato,

  Stavasi Armida in militar sembianti:

  E nobil guardia avea da ciascun lato

  484 De’ baroni seguaci, e degli amanti.

  Noto a più segni, egli è da lei mirato

  Con occhj d’ira e di desio tremanti.

  Ei si tramuta in volto un cotal poco:

  488 Ella si fa di gel, divien poi foco.

  LXI

  Rinaldo came where his forlorn Armide

  Sate on her golden chariot mounted high,

  A noble guard she had on every side

  Of lords, of lovers, and much chivalry:

  She knew the man when first his arms she spied,

  Love, hate, wrath, sweet desire strove in her eye,

  He changed somedeal his look and countenance bold,

  She changed from frost to fire, from heat to cold.

  LXI

  Rinaldo reached at last the golden car

  In which Armida sat in warlike pride;

  A noble guard of vassal barons were

  And lovers guarding her on every side.

  Him by a thousand well-known signs she knew,

  And trembled ‘twixt resentment and desire;

  Rinaldo’s features changed a little, too:

  But she first ice became, and then all fire.

  LXII.

  Declina il carro il Cavaliero, e passa,

  E fa sembiante d’uom cui d’altro cale.

  Ma senza pugna già passar non lassa

  492 Il drappel congiurato il suo rivale.

  Chi’l ferro stringe in lui, chi l’asta abbassa:

  Ella stessa in sull’arco ha già lo strale.

  Spingea le mani e incrudelia lo sdegno:

  496 Ma le placava, e n’era Amor ritegno.

  LXII

  The prince passed by the chariot of his dear

  Like one that did his thoughts elsewhere bestow,

  Yet suffered not her knights and lovers near

  Their rival so to scape withouten blow,

  One drew his sword, another couched his spear,

  Herself an arrow sharp set in her bow,

  Disdain her ire new sharped and kindled hath,

  But love appeased her, l
ove assuaged her wrath.

  LXII

  Like one engaged on something else, the knight

  Avoids her car, and passes; but the mass

  Of her sworn champions would not, without fight,

  Allow their rival cavalier to pass.

  Some couched the spear, others unsheathed the brand

  Herself an arrow fixed upon the bow;

  Resentment hardened and impelled her hand.

  But Love appeased her and restrained the blow.

  LXIII.

  Sorse Amor contra l’ira, e fè palese

  Che vive il foco suo ch’ascoso tenne.

  Le man tre volte a saettar distese,

  500 Tre volte essa inchinolla, e si ritenne.

  Pur vinse alfin lo sdegno, e l’arco tese

  E fè volar del suo quadrel le penne.

  Lo stral volò; ma con lo strale un voto

  504 Subito uscì, che vada il colpo a voto.

  LXIII

  Love bridled fury, and revived of new

  His fire, not dead, though buried in displeasure,

  Three times her angry hand the bow updrew,

  And thrice again let slack the string at leisure;

  But wrath prevailed at last, the reed outflew,

  For love finds mean, but hatred knows no measure,

  Outflew the shaft, but with the shaft, this charm,

  This wish she sent: Heaven grant it do no harm:

  LXIII

  Love rose ‘gainst ire, and showed, beyond all doubt,

  What living fire, tho’ hid, her heart contained;

  Three times her hand to shoot him she stretched out;

  Three times withdrew it downwards, and refrained.

  Anger at last prevailed; the bow she bent,

  And made the feathers of the quarrel fly.

  The arrow flew; but with the arrow went

  A prayer that it might pass him idly by.

  LXIV.

  Torria ben ella che’l quadrel pungente

  Tornasse indietro, e le tornasse al core:

  Tanto poteva in lei, benchè perdente,

  508 (Or che potria vittorioso?) Amore.

  Ma di tal suo pensier poi si ripente:

  E nel discorde sen cresce il furore.

  Così or paventa, ed or desia che tocchi

  512 Appieno il colpo: e ‘l segue pur con gli occhj.

  LXIV

  She bids the reed return the way it went,

  And pierce her heart which so unkind could prove,

  Such force had love, though lost and vainly spent,

  What strength hath happy, kind and mutual love?

  But she that gentle thought did straight repent,

  Wrath, fury, kindness, in her bosom strove,

  She would, she would not, that it missed or hit,

  Her eyes, her heart, her wishes followed it.

  LXIV

  She would have rather that the piercing dart

  Back had returned and pierced her breast: if thus

  Such power has Love, tho’ losing, o’er the heart,

  How irresistible — victorious!

  But she began her lenience to revoke,

  As in her wayward breast fresh furies rise;

  Thus now she dreaded, now desired the stroke

  Might tell, and followed it with eager eyes.

  LXV.

  Ma non fu la percossa invan diretta,

  Chè al Cavalier sul duro usbergo è giunta

  Duro ben troppo a femminil saetta,

  516 Chè di pungere in vece ivi si spunta.

  Egli le volge il fianco: ella negletta

  Esser credendo, e d’ira arsa e compunta,

  Scocca l’arco più volte, e non fa piaga:

  520 E mentre ella saetta, Amor lei piaga.

  LXV

  But yet in vain the quarrel lighted not,

  For on his hauberk hard the knight it hit,

  Too hard for woman’s shaft or woman’s shot,

  Instead of piercing, there it broke and split;

  He turned away, she burnt with fury hot,

  And thought he scorned her power, and in that fit

  Shot oft and oft, her shafts no entrance found,

  And while she shot, love gave her wound on wound.

  LXV

  But not in vain directed was the stroke,

  Which struck the cavalier’s cuirass, and there,

  Instead of piercing it, the quarrel broke:

  His arms too hard for blow of woman were.

  He turned away; she, burning ‘neath the slight

  Of his supposed affront, another dart

  Shot, then a thousand, nor impinged the knight:

  But while she arrowed, Cupid pierced her heart.

  LXVI.

  Sì dunque impenetrabile è costui,

  (Fra se dicea) che forza ostil non cura?

  Vestirebbe mai forse i membri sui

  524 Di quel diaspro, ond’ei l’alma ha sì dura?

  Colpo d’occhio o di man non puote in lui:

  Di tai tempre è il rigor che l’assicura!

  E inerme io vinta sono, e vinta armata:

  528 Nemica, amante, egualmente sprezzata.

  LXVI

  “And is he then unpierceable,” quoth she,

  “That neither force nor foe he needs regard?

  His limbs, perchance, armed with that hardness be,

  Which makes his heart so cruel and so hard,

  No shot that flies from eye or hand I see

  Hurts him, such rigor doth his person guard,

  Armed, or disarmed; his foe or mistress kind

  Despised alike, like hate, like scorn I find.

  LXVI

  ‘What — is he so invulnerable,’ she said,

  ‘That’ hostile force he cares not for, nor feels?

  Or is it that his limbs are habited

  In the adamant that his hard bosom steels?

  On him no power has mortal hand or eye;

  Such stern unyielding rigour he doth show.

  Armed and unarmed, defeated still am I,

  Despised alike as lover and as foe.

  LXVII.

  Or qual’arte novella, e qual m’avanza

  Nova forma in cui possa anco mutarmi?

  Misera, e nulla aver degg’io speranza

  532 Ne’ cavalieri miei; chè veder parmi,

  Anzi pur veggio, alla costui possanza

  Tutte le forze frali e tutte l’armi.

  E ben vedea de’ suoi campioni estinti

  536 Altri giacerne, altri abbattuti e vinti.

  LXVII

  “But what new form is left, device or art,

  By which, to which exchanged, I might find grace?

  For in my knights, and all that take my part,

  I see no help; no hope, no trust I place;

  To his great prowess, might, and valiant heart,

  All strength is weak, all courage vile and base.”

  This said she, for she saw how through the field

  Her champions fly, faint, tremble, fall and yield.

  LXVII

  ‘What new devices yet remain to try?

  What other form can I now take on me?

  Alas! I cannot on my knights rely,

  Since thro’ my blinding tears I seem to see,

  Nay, plainly see, that, paragoned with his,

  Their arms are useless, and their efforts vain.’

  For now she saw that of her votaries

  Some were struck down, and some already slain.

  LXVIII.

  Soletta a sua difesa ella non basta:

  E già le pare esser prigiona e serva:

  Nè s’assicura (e presso l’arco ha l’asta)

  540 Nell’arme di Diana, o di Minerva.

  Qual’è il timido cigno a cui sovrasta,

  Col fero artiglio, l’aquila proterva,

  Che a terra si rannicchia, e china l’ali;

  544 I suoi timidi moti eran cotali.


  LXVIII

  Nor left alone can she her person save,

  But to be slain or taken stands in fear,

  Though with a bow a javelin long she have,

  Yet weak was Phebe’s bow, blunt Pallas’ spear.

  But, as the swan, that sees the eagle brave

  Threatening her flesh and silver plumes to tear,

  Falls down, to hide her mongst the shady brooks:

  Such were her fearful motions, such her looks.

  LXVIII

  Alone she felt not able for defence,

  And seemed already prisoner and a slave;

  To her no assurance (she had bow and lance)

  The arms of Cynthia or Minerva gave;

  And as a timorous cygnet, o’er whom towers

  Fierce taloned eagle with exultant air,

  Down to the ground with folded pinion cowers;

  Resembling such her timid movements were.

  LXIX.

  Ma il Principe Altamor, che sino allora

  Fermar de’ Persi procurò lo stuolo

  Ch’era già in piega, e in fuga ito sen fora,

  548 Ma il ritenea (bench’a fatica) ei solo;

  Or tal veggendo lei ch’amando adora,

  Là si volge di corso, anzi di volo:

  E ‘l suo onor abbandona e la sua schiera;

  552 Purchè costei si salvi, il mondo pera.

  LXIX

  But Altamore, this while that strove and sought

  From shameful flight his Persian host to stay,

  That was discomfit and destroyed to nought,

  Whilst he alone maintained the fight and fray,

  Seeing distressed the goddess of his thought,

  To aid her ran, nay flew, and laid away

  All care both of his honor and his host:

  If she were safe, let all the world be lost.

  LXIX

  But Altamore, who to this moment had

  Rallied his Persian followers when thrown

  Into confusion, and who would have fled,

  But were prevented by his means alone,

  Now, seeing his idol brought to such a strait,

  Ran not, but flew there, by her charms enslaved;

  Troops, honour, all he abandoned to their fate:

  Let the world perish, so his love be saved.

  LXX.

  Al mal difeso carro egli fa scorta,

  E col ferro le vie gli sgombra innante.

  Ma da Rinaldo e da Goffredo è morta,

  556 E fugata sua schiera in quell’istante.

 

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