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Part 31

Jerusalem Delivered · Torquato Tasso — chapter 31 of 71 · ~1,822 words · public domain

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XLIII All suddenly he heard, while on he went, How to the city-ward, “Arm, arm!” they cried, The noise upreared to the firmament, With dreadful howling filled the valleys wlde: This was Clorinda, whom the king forth sent To battle, and Argantes by her side. The duke, this heard, to Guelpho turned, and prayed Him his lieutenant be, and to him said:

XLIV “You hear this new alarm from yonder part, That from the town breaks out with so much rage, Us needeth much your valor and your art To calm their fury, and their heat to ’suage; Go thither then, and with you take some part Of these brave soldiers of mine equipage, While with the residue of my champions bold I drive these wolves again out of our fold.”

XLV They parted, this agreed on them between, By divers paths, Lord Guelpho to the hill, And Godfrey hasted where the Arabians keen His men like silly sheep destroy and kill; But as he went his troops increased been, From every part the people flocked still, That now grown strong enough, he ’proached nigh Where the fierce Turk caused many a Christian die.

XLVI So from the top of Vesulus the cold, Down to the sandy valleys, tumbleth Po, Whose streams the further from the fountain rolled Still stronger wax, and with more puissance go; And horned like a bull his forehead bold He lifts, and o’er his broken banks doth flow, And with his horns to pierce the sea assays, To which he proffereth war, not tribute pays.

XLVII The duke his men fast flying did espy, And thither ran, and thus, displeased, spake, “What fear is this? Oh, whither do you fly? See who they be that this pursuit do make, A heartless band, that dare no battle try, Who wounds before dare neither give nor take, Against them turn your stern eye’s threatening sight, An angry look will put them all to flight.”

XLVIII This said, he spurred forth where Solyman Destroyed Christ’s vineyard like a savage boar, Through streams of blood, through dust and dirt he ran, O’er heaps of bodies wallowing in their gore, The squadrons close his sword to ope began, He broke their ranks, behind, beside, before, And, where he goes, under his feet he treads The armed Saracens, and barbed steeds.

XLIX This slaughter-house of angry Mars he passed, Where thousands dead, half-dead, and dying were. The hardy Soldan saw him come in haste, Yet neither stepped aside nor shrunk for fear, But busked him bold to fight, aloft he cast His blade, prepared to strike, and stepped near, These noble princes twain, so Fortune wrought From the world’s end here met, and here they fought:

L With virtue, fury; strength with courage strove, For Asia’s mighty empire, who can tell With how strange force their cruel blows they drove? How sore their combat was? how fierce, how fell? Great deeds they wrought, each other’s harness clove; Yet still in darkness, more the ruth, they dwell. The night their acts her black veil covered under, Their acts whereat the sun, the world might wonder.

LI The Christians by their guide’s ensample hearted, Of their best armed made a squadron strong, And to defend their chieftain forth they started: The Pagans also saved their knight from wrong, Fortune her favors twixt them evenly parted, Fierce was the encounter, bloody, doubtful, long; These won, those lost; these lost, those won again; The loss was equal, even the numbers slain.

LII With equal rage, as when the southern wind, Meeteth in battle strong the northern blast, The sea and air to neither is resigned, But cloud gainst cloud, and wave gainst wave they cast: So from this skirmish neither part declined, But fought it out, and kept their footings fast, And oft with furious shock together rush, And shield gainst shield, and helm gainst helm they crush.

LIII The battle eke to Sionward grew hot, The soldiers slain, the hardy knights were killed, Legions of sprites from Limbo’s prisons got, The empty air, the hills and valleys filled, Hearting the Pagans that they shrinked not, Till where they stood their dearest blood they spilled; And with new rage Argantes they inspire, Whose heat no flames, whose burning need no fire.

LIV Where he came in he put to shameful flight The fearful watch, and o’er the trenches leaped, Even with the ground he made the rampire’s height, And murdered bodies in the ditch unheaped, So that his greedy mates with labor light, Amid the tents, a bloody harvest reaped: Clorinda went the proud Circassian by, So from a piece two chained bullets fly.

LV Now fled the Frenchmen, when in lucky hour Arrived Guelpho, and his helping band, He made them turn against this stormy shower, And with bold face their wicked foes withstand. Sternly they fought, that from their wounds downpour The streams of blood and run on either hand: The Lord of heaven meanwhile upon this fight, From his high throne bent down his gracious sight.

LVI From whence with grace and goodness compassed round, He ruleth, blesseth, keepeth all he wrought, Above the air, the fire, the sea and ground, Our sense, our wit, our reason and our thought, Where persons three, with power and glory crowned, Are all one God, who made all things of naught, Under whose feet, subjected to his grace, Sit nature, fortune, motion, time and place.

LVII This is the place, from whence like smoke and dust Of this frail world the wealth, the pomp and power, He tosseth, tumbleth, turneth as he lust, And guides our life, our death, our end and hour: No eye, however virtuous, pure and just, Can view the brightness of that glorious bower, On every side the blessed spirits be, Equal in joys, though differing in degree.

LVIII With harmony of their celestial song The palace echoed from the chambers pure, At last he Michael called, in harness strong Of never yielding diamonds armed sure, “Behold,” quoth he, “to do despite and wrong To that dear flock my mercy hath in cure, How Satan from hell’s loathsome prison sends His ghosts, his sprites, his furies and his fiends.

LIX “Go bid them all depart, and leave the care Of war to soldiers, as doth best pertain: Bid them forbear to infect the earth and air; To darken heaven’s fair light, bid them refrain; Bid them to Acheron’s black flood repair, Fit house for them, the house of grief and pain: There let their king himself and them torment, So I command, go tell them mine intent.”

LX This said, the winged warrior low inclined At his Creator’s feet with reverence due; Then spread his golden feathers to the wind, And swift as thought away the angel flew, He passed the light, and shining fire assigned The glorious seat of his selected crew, The mover first, and circle crystalline, The firmament, where fixed stars all shine;

LXI Unlike in working then, in shape and show, At his left hand, Saturn he left and Jove, And those untruly errant called I trow, Since he errs not, who them doth guide and move: The fields he passed then, whence hail and snow, Thunder and rain fall down from clouds above, Where heat and cold, dryness and moisture strive, Whose wars all creatures kill, and slain, revive.

LXII The horrid darkness, and the shadows dun Dispersed he with his eternal wings, The flames which from his heavenly eyes outrun Beguiled the earth and all her sable things; After a storm so spreadeth forth the sun His rays and binds the clouds in golden strings, Or in the stillness of a moonshine even A falling star so glideth down from Heaven.

LXIII But when the infernal troop he ’proached near, That still the Pagans’ ire and rage provoke, The angel on his wings himself did bear, And shook his lance, and thus at last he spoke: “Have you not learned yet to know and fear The Lord’s just wrath, and thunder’s dreadful stroke? Or in the torments of your endless ill, Are you still fierce, still proud, rebellious still?

LXIV “The Lord hath sworn to break the iron bands The brazen gates of Sion’s fort which close, Who is it that his sacred will withstands? Against his wrath who dares himself oppose? Go hence, you cursed, to your appointed lands, The realms of death, of torments, and of woes, And in the deeps of that infernal lake Your battles fight, and there your triumphs make.

LXV “There tyrannize upon the souls you find Condemned to woe, and double still their pains; Where some complain, where some their teeth do grind, Some howl, and weep, some clank their iron chains:” This said they fled, and those that stayed behind, With his sharp lance he driveth and constrains; They sighing left the lands, his silver sheep Where Hesperus doth lead, doth feed, and keep.

LXVI And toward hell their lazy wings display, To wreak their malice on the damned ghosts; The birds that follow Titan’s hottest ray, Pass not in so great flocks to warmer coasts, Nor leaves in so great numbers fall away When winter nips them with his new-come frosts; The earth delivered from so foul annoy, Recalled her beauty, and resumed her joy.

LXVII But not for this in fierce Argantes’ breast Lessened the rancor and decreased the ire, Although Alecto left him to infest With the hot brands of her infernal fire, Round his armed head his trenchant blade he blest, And those thick ranks that seemed moist entire He breaks; the strong, the high, the weak, the low, Were equalized by his murdering blow.

LXVIII Not far from him amid the blood and dust, Heads, arms, and legs, Clorinda strewed wide Her sword through Berengarius’ breast she thrust, Quite through the heart, where life doth chiefly bide, And that fell blow she struck so sure and just, That at his back his life and blood forth glide; Even in the mouth she smote Albinus then, And cut in twain the visage of the man.

LXIX Gernier’s right hand she from his arm divided, Whereof but late she had received a wound; The hand his sword still held, although not guided, The fingers half alive stirred on the ground; So from a serpent slain the tail divided Moves in the grass, rolleth and tumbleth round, The championess so wounded left the knight, And gainst Achilles turned her weapon bright.

LXX Upon his neck light that unhappy blow, And cut the sinews and the throat in twain, The head fell down upon the earth below, And soiled with dust the visage on the plain; The headless trunk, a woful thing to know, Still in the saddle seated did remain; Until his steed, that felt the reins at large, With leaps and flings that burden did discharge.

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