Jerusalem Delivered. Torquato Tasso

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Jerusalem Delivered - Torquato Tasso


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Dudon's high prowess, death and burial,

       And how Argantes bore his plumes aloft,

       Praising his fortunes for that worthy's fall;

       Besides, the knight's sweet words and praises soft

       To his due honor did him fitly call,

       And made his heart rejoice, for well he knew,

       Though much he praised him, all his words were true.

      XIV

       "Degrees," quoth he, "of honors high to hold,

       I would them first deserve, and the desire;

       And were my valor such as you have told,

       Would I for that to higher place aspire:

       But if to honors due raise me you would,

       I will not of my works refuse the hire;

       And much it glads me, that my power and might

       Ypraised is by such a valiant knight.

      XV

       "I neither seek it nor refuse the place,

       Which if I get, the praise and thanks be thine."

       Eustace, this spoken, hied thence apace

       To know which way his fellows' hearts incline:

       But Prince Gernando coveted the place,

       Whom though Armida sought to undermine,

       Gainst him yet vain did all her engines prove,

       His pride was such, there was no place for love.

      XVI

       Gernando was the King of Norway's son,

       That many a realm and region had to guide,

       And for his elders lands and crowns had won.

       His heart was puffed up with endless pride:

       The other boasts more what himself had done

       Than all his ancestors' great acts beside;

       Yet his forefathers old before him were

       Famous in war and peace five hundred years.

      XVII

       This barbarous prince, who only vainly thought

       That bliss in wealth and kingly power doth lie,

       And in respect esteemed all virtue naught

       Unless it were adorned with titles high,

       Could not endure, that to the place he sought

       A simple knight should dare to press so nigh;

       And in his breast so boiled fell despite,

       That ire and wrath exiled reason quite.

      XVIII

       The hidden devil, that lies in close await

       To win the fort of unbelieving man,

       Found entry there, where ire undid the gate,

       And in his bosom unperceived ran;

       It filled his heart with malice, strife and hate,

       It made him rage, blaspheme, swear, curse and ban,

       Invisible it still attends him near,

       And thus each minute whispereth in his ear.

      XIX

       What, shall Rinaldo match thee? dares he tell

       Those idle names of his vain pedigree?

       Then let him say, if thee he would excel,

       What lands, what realms his tributaries be:

       If his forefathers in the graves that dwell,

       Were honored like thine that live, let see:

       Oh how dares one so mean aspire so high,

       Born in that servile country Italy?

      XX

       Now, if he win, or if he lose the day,

       Yet is his praise and glory hence derived,

       For that the world will, to his credit, say,

       Lo, this is he that with Gernando strived.

       The charge some deal thee haply honor may,

       That noble Dudon had while here he lived;

       But laid on him he would the office shame,

       Let it suffice, he durst desire the same.

      XXI

       If when this breath from man's frail body flies

       The soul take keep, or know the things done here,

       Oh, how looks Dudon from the glorious skies?

       What wrath, what anger in his face appear,

       On this proud youngling while he bends his eyes,

       Marking how high he doth his feathers rear?

       Seeing his rash attempt, how soon he dare,

       Though but a boy, with his great worth compare.

      XXII

       He dares not only, but he strives and proves,

       Where chastisement were fit there wins he praise:

       One counsels him, his speech him forward moves;

       Another fool approveth all he says:

       If Godfrey favor him more than behoves,

       Why then he wrongeth thee an hundred ways;

       Nor let thy state so far disgraced be,

       Now what thou art and canst, let Godfrey see.

      XXIII

       With such false words the kindled fire began

       To every vein his poisoned heart to reach,

       It swelled his scornful heart, and forth it ran

       At his proud looks, and too audacious speech;

       All that he thought blameworthy in the man,

       To his disgrace that would be each where preach;

       He termed him proud and vain, his worth in fight

       He called fool-hardise, rashness, madness right.

      XXIV

       All that in him was rare or excellent,

       All that was good, all that was princely found,

       With such sharp words as malice could invent,

       He blamed, such power has wicked tongue to wound.

       The youth, for everywhere those rumors went,

       Of these reproaches heard sometimes the sound;

       Nor did for that his tongue the fault amend,

       Until it brought him to his woful end.

      XXV

       The cursed fiend that set his tongue at large,

       Still bred more fancies in his idle brain,

       His heart with slanders new did overcharge,

       And soothed him still in his angry vein;

       Amid the camp a place was broad and large,

       Where one fair regiment might easily train;

       And there in tilt and harmless tournament

       Their days of rest the youths and gallants spent.

      XXVI

       There, as his fortune would it should betide,

       Amid the press Gernando gan retire,

       To vomit out his venom unespied,

       Wherewith foul envy did his heart inspire.

      


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