Jerusalem Delivered Page 26

  She must, that had her friends and kinsfolk slain:

  Some cursed weeds her cunning hand did know,

  That could augment his harm, increase his pain;

  But she abhorred to be revenged so,

  No treason should her spotless person stain,

  And virtueless she wished all herbs and charms

  Wherewith false men increase their patients’ harms.

  LXIX

  Nor feared she among the bands to stray

  Of armed men, for often had she seen

  The tragic end of many a bloody fray;

  Her life had full of haps and hazards been,

  This made her bold in every hard assay,

  More than her feeble sex became, I ween;

  She feared not the shake of every reed,

  So cowards are courageous made through need.

  LXX

  Love, fearless, hardy, and audacious love,

  Emboldened had this tender damsel so,

  That where wild beasts and serpents glide and move

  Through Afric’s deserts durst she ride or go,

  Save that her honor, she esteemed above

  Her life and body’s safety, told her no;

  For in the secret of her troubled thought,

  A doubtful combat, love and honor fought.

  LXXI

  “O spotless virgin,” Honor thus begun,

  “That my true lore observed firmly hast,

  When with thy foes thou didst in bondage won,

  Remember then I kept thee pure and chaste,

  At liberty now, where wouldest thou run,

  To lay that field of princely virtue waste,

  Or lose that jewel ladies hold so dear?

  Is maidenhood so great a load to bear?

  LXXII

  “Or deem’st thou it a praise of little prize,

  The glorious title of a virgin’s name?

  That thou will gad by night in giglot wise,

  Amid thine armed foes, to seek thy shame.

  O fool, a woman conquers when she flies,

  Refusal kindleth, proffers quench the flame.

  Thy lord will judge thou sinnest beyond measure,

  If vainly thus thou waste so rich a treasure.”

  LXXIII

  The sly deceiver Cupid thus beguiled

  The simple damsel, with his filed tongue:

  “Thou wert not born,” quoth he, “in desert wild

  The cruel bears and savage beasts among,

  That you shouldest scorn fair Citherea’s child,

  Or hate those pleasures that to youth belong,

  Nor did the gods thy heart of iron frame;

  To be in love is neither sin nor shame.

  LXXIV

  “Go then, go, whither sweet desire inviteth,

  How can thy gentle knight so cruel be?

  Love in his heart thy grief and sorrows writeth,

  For thy laments how he complaineth, see.

  Oh cruel woman, whom no care exciteth

  To save his life, that saved and honored thee!

  He languished, one foot thou wilt not move

  To succor him, yet say’st thou art in love.

  LXXV

  “No, no, stay here Argantes’ wounds to cure,

  And make him strong to shed thy darling’s blood,

  Of such reward he may himself assure,

  That doth a thankless woman so much good:

  Ah, may it be thy patience can endure

  To see the strength of this Circassian wood,

  And not with horror and amazement shrink,

  When on their future fight thou hap’st to think?

  LXXVI

  “Besides the thanks and praises for the deed,

  Suppose what joy, what comfort shalt thou win,

  When thy soft hand doth wholesome plaisters speed,

  Upon the breaches in his ivory skin,

  Thence to thy dearest lord may health succeed,

  Strength to his limbs, blood to his cheeks so thin,

  And his rare beauties, now half dead and more,

  Thou may’st to him, him to thyself restore.

  LXXVII

  “So shall some part of his adventures bold

  And valiant acts henceforth be held as thine;

  His dear embracements shall thee straight enfold,

  Together joined in marriage rites divine:

  Lastly high place of honor shalt thou hold

  Among the matrons sage and dames Latine,

  In Italy, a land, as each one tells,

  Where valor true, and true religion dwells.”

  LXXVIII

  With such vain hopes the silly maid abused,

  Promised herself mountains and hills of gold;

  Yet were her thoughts with doubts and fears confused

  How to escape unseen out of that hold,

  Because the watchman every minute used

  To guard the walls against the Christians bold,

  And in such fury and such heat of war,

  The gates or seld or never opened are.

  LXXIX

  With strong Clorinda was Erminia sweet

  In surest links of dearest friendship bound,

  With her she used the rising sun to greet,

  And her, when Phoebus glided under ground,

  She made the lovely partner of her sheet;

  In both their hearts one will, one thought was found;

  Nor aught she hid from that virago bold,

  Except her love, that tale to none she told.

  LXXX

  That kept she secret, if Clorinda heard

  Her make complaints, or secretly lament,

  To other cause her sorrow she referred:

  Matter enough she had of discontent,

  Like as the bird that having close imbarred

  Her tender young ones in the springing bent,

  To draw the searcher further from her nest,

  Cries and complains most where she needeth least.

  LXXXI

  Alone, within her chamber’s secret part,

  Sitting one day upon her heavy thought,

  Devising by what means, what sleight, what art,

  Her close departure should be safest wrought,

  Assembled in her unresolved heart

  An hundred passions strove and ceaseless fought;

  At last she saw high hanging on the wall

  Clorinda’s silver arms, and sighed withal:

  LXXXII

  And sighing, softly to herself she said,

  “How blessed is this virgin in her might?

  How I envy the glory of the maid,

  Yet envy not her shape, or beauty’s light;

  Her steps are not with trailing garments stayed,

  Nor chambers hide her valor shining bright;

  But armed she rides, and breaketh sword and spear,

  Nor is her strength restrained by shame or fear.

  LXXXIII

  “Alas, why did not Heaven these members frail

  With lively force and vigor strengthen so

  That I this silken gown and slender veil

  Might for a breastplate and an helm forego?

  Then should not heat, nor cold, nor rain, nor hail,

  Nor storms that fall, nor blustering winds that blow

  Withhold me, but I would both day and night,

  In pitched field, or private combat fight.

  LXXXIV

  “Nor haddest thou, Argantes, first begun

  With my dear lord that fierce and cruel fight,

  But I to that encounter would have run,

  And haply ta’en him captive by my might;

  Yet should he find, our furious combat done,

  His thraldom easy, and his bondage light;

  For fetters, mine embracements should he prove;

  For diet, kisses sweet; for keeper, love.

  LXXXV

  “Or else my tender bosom opened wide,
>
  And heart though pierced with his cruel blade,

  The bloody weapon in my wounded side

  Might cure the wound which love before had made;

  Then should my soul in rest and quiet slide

  Down to the valleys of the Elysian shade,

  And my mishap the knight perchance would move,

  To shed some tears upon his murdered love.

  LXXXVI

  “Alas! impossible are all these things,

  Such wishes vain afflict my woful sprite,

  Why yield I thus to plaints and sorrowings,

  As if all hope and help were perished quite?

  My heart dares much, it soars with Cupid’s wings,

  Why use I not for once these armors bright?

  I may sustain awhile this shield aloft,

  Though I be tender, feeble, weak and soft.

  LXXXVII

  “Love, strong, bold, mighty never-tired love,

  Supplieth force to all his servants true;

  The fearful stags he doth to battle move,

  Till each his horns in others’ blood imbrue;

  Yet mean not I the haps of war to prove,

  A stratagem I have devised new,

  Clorinda-like in this fair harness dight,

  I will escape out of the town this night.

  LXXXVIII

  “I know the men that have the gate to ward,

  If she command dare not her will deny,

  In what sort else could I beguile the guard?

  This way is only left, this will I try:

  O gentle love, in this adventure hard

  Thine handmaid guide, assist and fortify!

  The time, the hour now fitteth best the thing,

  While stout Clorinda talketh with the king.”

  LXXXIX

  Resolved thus, without delay she went,

  As her strong passion did her rashly guide,

  And those bright arms, down from the rafter hent,

  Within her closet did she closely hide;

  That might she do unseen, for she had sent

  The rest, on sleeveless errands from her side,

  And night her stealths brought to their wished end,

  Night, patroness of thieves, and lovers’ friend.

  XC

  Some sparkling fires on heaven’s bright visage shone;

  His azure robe the orient blueness lost,

  When she, whose wit and reason both were gone,

  Called for a squire she loved and trusted most,

  To whom and to a maid, a faithful one,

  Part of her will she told, how that in post

  She would depart from Juda’s king, and feigned

  That other cause her sudden flight constrained.

  XCI

  The trusty squire provided needments meet,

  As for their journey fitting most should be;

  Meanwhile her vesture, pendant to her feet,

  Erminia doft, as erst determined she,

  Stripped to her petticoat the virgin sweet

  So slender was, that wonder was to see;

  Her handmaid ready at her mistress’ will,

  To arm her helped, though simple were her skill.

  XCII

  The rugged steel oppressed and offended

  Her dainty neck, and locks of shining gold;

  Her tender arm so feeble was, it bended

  When that huge target it presumed to hold,

  The burnished steel bright rays far off extended,

  She feigned courage, and appeared bold;

  Fast by her side unseen smiled Venus’ son,

  As erst he laughed when Alcides spun.

  XCIII

  Oh, with what labor did her shoulders bear

  That heavy burthen, and how slow she went!

  Her maid, to see that all the coasts were clear,

  Before her mistress, through the streets was sent;

  Love gave her courage, love exiled fear,

  Love to her tired limbs new vigor lent,

  Till she approached where the squire abode,

  There took they horse forthwith and forward rode.

  XCIV

  Disguised they went, and by unused ways,

  And secret paths they strove unseen to gone,

  Until the watch they meet, which sore affrays

  Their soldiers new, when swords and weapons shone

  Yet none to stop their journey once essays,

  But place and passage yielded every one;

  For that bright armor, and that helmet bright,

  Were known and feared, in the darkest night.

  XCV

  Erminia, though some deal she were dismayed,

  Yet went she on, and goodly countenance bore,

  She doubted lest her purpose were bewrayed,

  Her too much boldness she repented sore;

  But now the gate her fear and passage stayed,

  The heedless porter she beguiled therefore,

  “I am Clorinda, ope the gate,” she cried,

  “Where as the king commands, this late I ride.”

  XCVI

  Her woman’s voice and terms all framed been,

  Most like the speeches of the princess stout,

  Who would have thought on horseback to have seen

  That feeble damsel armed round about?

  The porter her obeyed, and she, between

  Her trusty squire and maiden, sallied out,

  And through the secret dales they silent pass,

  Where danger least, least fear, least peril was.

  XCVII

  But when these fair adventurers entered were

  Deep in a vale, Erminia stayed her haste,

  To be recalled she had no cause to fear,

  This foremost hazard had she trimly past;

  But dangers new, tofore unseen, appear,

  New perils she descried, new doubts she cast.

  The way that her desire to quiet brought,

  More difficult now seemed than erst she thought.

  XCVIII

  Armed to ride among her angry foes,

  She now perceived it were great oversight,

  Yet would she not, she thought, herself disclose,

  Until she came before her chosen knight,

  To him she purposed to present the rose

  Pure, spotless, clean, untouched of mortal wight,

  She stayed therefore, and in her thoughts more wise,

  She called her squire, whom thus she gan advise.

  XCIX

  “Thou must,” quoth she, “be mine ambassador,

  Be wise, be careful, true, and diligent,

  Go to the camp, present thyself before

  The Prince Tancredi, wounded in his tent;

  Tell him thy mistress comes to cure his sore,

  If he to grant her peace and rest consent

  Gainst whom fierce love such cruel war hath raised,

  So shall his wounds be cured, her torments eased.

  C

  “And say, in him such hope and trust she hath,

  That in his powers she fears no shame nor scorn,

  Tell him thus much, and whatso’er he saith,

  Unfold no more, but make a quick return,

  I, for this place is free from harm and scath,

  Within this valley will meanwhile sojourn.”

  Thus spake the princess: and her servant true

  To execute the charge imposed, flew;

  CI

  And was received, he so discreetly wrought,

  First of the watch that guarded in their place,

  Before the wounded prince then was he brought,

  Who heard his message kind, with gentle grace,

  Which told, he left him tossing in his thought

  A thousand doubts, and turned his speedy pace

  To bring his lady and his mistress word,

  She might be welcome to that courteous lord.

  CII

  B
ut she, impatient, to whose desire

  Grievous and harmful seemed each little stay,

  Recounts his steps, and thinks, now draws he nigher,

  Now enters in, now speaks, now comes his way;

  And that which grieved her most, the careful squire

  Less speedy seemed than e’er before that day;

  Lastly she forward rode with love to guide,

  Until the Christian tents at hand she spied.

  CIII

  Invested in her starry veil, the night

  In her kind arms embraced all this round,

  The silver moon from sea uprising bright

  Spread frosty pearl upon the candid ground:

  And Cynthia-like for beauty’s glorious light

  The love-sick nymph threw glittering beams around,

  And counsellors of her old love she made

  Those valleys dumb, that silence, and that shade.

  CIV

  Beholding then the camp, quoth she, “O fair

  And castle-like pavilions, richly wrought!

  From you how sweet methinketh blows the air,

  How comforts it my heart, my soul, my thought?

  Through heaven’s fair face from gulf of sad despair

  My tossed bark to port well-nigh is brought:

  In you I seek redress for all my harms,

  Rest, midst your weapons; peace, amongst your arms.

  CV

  “Receive me, then, and let me mercy find,

  As gentle love assureth me I shall,

  Among you had I entertainment kind

  When first I was the Prince Tancredi’s thrall:

  I covet not, led by ambition blind

  You should me in my father’s throne install,

  Might I but serve in you my lord so dear,

  That my content, my joy, my comfort were.”

  CVI

  Thus parleyed she, poor soul, and never feared

  The sudden blow of Fortune’s cruel spite,

  She stood where Phoebe’s splendent beam appeared

  Upon her silver armor double bright,

  The place about her round she shining cleared

  With that pure white wherein the nymph was dight:

  The tigress great, that on her helmet laid,

  Bore witness where she went, and where she stayed.

  CVII

  So as her fortune would, a Christian band

  Their secret ambush there had closely framed,

  Led by two brothers of Italia land,

  Young Poliphern and Alicandro named,

  These with their forces watched to withstand

  Those that brought victuals to their foes untamed,

  And kept that passage; them Erminia spied,

  And fled as fast as her swift steed could ride.

  CVIII

  But Poliphern, before whose watery eyes,

  His aged father strong Clorinda slew,

  When that bright shield and silver helm he spies,

  The championess he thought he saw and knew;