"^m '• ^ SITY OF CALI FC: AT LOS ANGELES /\li ^ ^ ^ I *^f,>^P^UtJt> ^^ù y^-e^^^A^ ^^c au^o4 ''Fn- crr\t -:^THERN BRANCH, UBl^ARY - - ANGELES, CALIF. S'hf sind.hgr l>os(mi jwell'd nith labouring . bui l'rhi!/ tcrrcnt.^ trickle J frojn Tier ^e-f. If i/iiJ f/w £7ii,fht. M?u> ^■c ' — e empiete in Onf Volame . il- ISK PubJMed bi/^V^ Suttabi/; ' 'fv.rfi// a- C^and Scafcherd ccnd Zetferman , StatioTiers Court . '• • • , • •• • • • • ••• TO THE QUEEN. \t0^x Madam, A O approach the High and the Illustrious has "been, in all ages, the privilege of Poets; and though Translators cannot justly claim the same honour, jet they naturally follow their Authors as Attend- ants ; and I hope that, in return for having enabled Tasso to dift'use his fame through the British Do- minions, I may be introduced by him to the pre- sence of Your Majesty. Tasso has a peculiar claim to Your HI.uesty's favour, as a Follower and Panegyrist of the House of EsTE, which has one comaion Ancestor with the House of Hanover; and in reviewing his life, it is not easy to forbear a wish that he had lived in a hap- pier time, when he might, among the Descendants of that illustrious Family, have found a more liberal and potent patronage. I cannot but observe. Madam, how unequally Reward is proportioned to Merit, when I reflect that the Happiness, which was withheld from Tasso, ig reserved for me; and that the Poem, which ones Jiardly procured to its Author the counteaaace of the B 3 DEDICATION. Princes of Ferrara, has attracted to its Translatcj the favourable notice of a British Queen. > Had this been the fate of Tasso, he would have-^ been able to have celebrated the Condescension of> Your Majesty in nobler language, but could not itive felt it with more ardent gratitude, than, Madam, YouB Majestt's Most faithful, and Devoted Servant, "? JOHN HOOLE I PREFACE. \JF all Authors, so familiarly known by name to the generality of English readers as Tasso, perhaps '^ there is none whose works have bfen so little read; »* and the few who have read them, have seldom csti- ^ mated them by their own judgment. As some au- ^^ thors owe much of their reputation to the implicit acquiescence of the many in tbe eicoraiuras bestowed upon them by some person with whom, for whatever reason, it has been thought honourable to acquiesce ; . so others have been rated much below their merit, ^merely because some fashionable critic has decried P their performances ; and thus it has happened to ^ Tasso. M. Boileau, in one of his satires, had ri.liculed the absurdity of " piefcnicg the tinsel of Ta?so to the gold of Virgil ;" this sentiment was hastily catch- I. Voltaire then obsenes, that this is indeed the true character of the crusades : but " Tasso (continues he) has. with great judg- ment, represented them very differently ; for, in his Jerusalem, they appear to be an army of heroes, luarchinr under a chief of exalted virtue, to rescue, from the tyranny of Infidels, a ceuntry which had been consecrated by the birth and death of a God. The subject of hi? poem, considered in this view, is the most sublime that can be imagined^ and he has treated it with all the dignity of which it is worthy, and has even rendered it nrt less interesting than elevated. The action is well conducted, and the incidents artfully interwoven ; he strikes out his ad- ventures with spirit, and di-tributes his light and shade with the judgmet-t of a master: he transports his reader from the tumults cf war to the sweet soli- tudes of love; and from scenes exquisitely volup- tuous, he again transports him to the field of battle: be touches all the springs of passion in a swift, but regular succession, and gradually rises above himself as he proceeds from book to book : his style is in all parts equally clear and elegant; and when his sub- ject requires elevation, it is astonishing to see bow be impresses a new character upon the softness of the Italian language, bow he sublimes it into ma- jf^Ty, and compresses it into strength. It must in- deed be confessed, that in the whole poem there are about two hundred verses in which the author has indulged himself in pterile concfits, and a mere play upon words; but this is nothing more than a kind of tribute which his genius paid to the taste of the age he lived in, which had a fondness for points and turns that has since rather increased thaà diminished." Such is the merit of Tasso's Jerasalem in the opi- bion of M. Voltaire : he has, indeed, pointed out, PREFACE. t \i:it"h jreat jiuljment, m'.av defects in particulax parts of the work, w^hich he so much admires upon the whole ; but this gives his testimony ia behalf of Tasso, so far as it goes, new force ; and if Tasso can be justified in ?ome p'.aces where M. Voltaire has condemned him, it follows, that his general me- rit is still greater than M. '^'oltaire has allowed. Having remarked some fanciful excesses in the account of the expedition of LTiald and his compa- nion, to discover and bring back Rinaldo, who was much wanted by the whole army. M. Voltaire asks, *' what was the great erploit which was reserved for this hero, and which rendered his presence of so much im'portance, that be was transported from the Pic of Teneriffe to Jerusalem ; V^'hy he was" (says M. Voltaire) '• destined by Providence to cut dowa some old trees, that stood ia the forest which was haunted by hobgoblins." M. Voltaire, by this lu- dicrous description of Rir.aldo's adventure in the Enchanted Tiood, insinuates, that the service he performed was inadequate to the pomp with which be was ir.troduced, and unworthy of the miracles which contributed to his return : but. the enchant- ment of the forest being once admitted, thi» exploit of Rinaldo will be found greatly to heighten his cha- racter, and to remove an obstacle to the siefe?Vhicli would otherwise have been insuperable, and would consequently hare defeated the whole enterprize of Che crusade : it was impassible to cany on the siege without m3chine5 constructed of timber; no timber was to be had but iu this for^t ; and in this forest the principal heroes of the Christian army had at- tempted to cut timber in vain. To this it may be added, that >t. Voltaire has not dealt fairly, by supposing tbat Rinaldo was re- called to the camp for no other intent than to cut Cown the wood: the critic seems to have forgottea the necessity of this hero's presence to the generai afairs of the Christians; it was be who was destinetl » PREFACE. to kill Soljman, whose «leith wa«, perhaps, of equal consequence to tbe Christians, as that of Hector ta the Grecians : tbe Danish messenger had been mi- raculously presetted, and sent to deliver Sweno's «word to Rinaldo, with a particular injunction for him to revenge the death of that prince on tbe Sol- dan : we see further tbe importance of Rinaldo ic ihe last battle, where he kills almost all the princi- pal leaders ot the enemv, and is the p'eat cause of Ihe entire defeat of the Egrvptian army. M. Voltaire's arenerai censure of tliis incident, therefore, appears to be ill-founded. " But certaio Demons («ays he) bavin? taken an infinite varieJy of shapes to terrify those who came to fell tbe trets, Tancred finds his Clorinda shut np in a pine, and wounded by a stroke which he had given to the trunk of the tree; and Armida issues from the bark «f a myrtle, whilr. Hooke, and Mr. LaNug : if an_> of these gentlemen had completed their undertaking, it would eJfectually have precluded mine. Mr. Brooke's in particular, is at once so har- monious and so spirited, th.e certain tokens of that equality of tt-raper which supported him so well in his future mi'e mnde so r.ip'.d a prozress, that at seTen he wni pretty isvll acquaiutvd with tb* THE LIFE OF TASSO. 15 liatia and Greek tongues-, at the same age he made public orations, and composed some pieces of poetr^', of which the style is said to have retained nothing of puerility. The following lines he addressed to his mother when he lett Naples to follow his father's fortune, being then only nine years of age. Ma dal sen de la madre empia fortuna Pargoletto divelse, ah di' que' baci Ch" ella bagno di lagrime dolenti Cou sospir mi riinerobra, e de gli ardenti Preghi che sen pnrtar l'aure lunari, Che i' non dove^ giunger più volto a volt» Fra quelle braccia accolto Con nodi cosi stretti, e si tenaci, Lasso, e seguij con mal sicure piante Oual' Ascanio, o Camilla il padre errante. Relentless Fortune in my early years Reraoves me from & mother's tender breast: Mith si»hs 1 call to mind the farewel tears That bath 'd her kisses when my ips she prest'd ! 1 hear her pra> 'rs with ardour bréalti'd to IleaveB, Aside now wafted by the devious wind ; >'i> more to her unhappy son 'tis given lb' e;:dearments of maternal love to find ! No more her fondling arras shall round ave spread ; Far from her fijht reluctant 1 retire ; LiUe young Cannili or Ascanius, led To trace the footsteps of my waudering sire I The success the prince of Salerno met with in his embassy greatly increased his credit amongst the Neapolitans, but entirely ruined him with the vice- roy, who left nothing unturned to make the empe- ror jealous of the great deference the people shewed Ferrante, from which he inferred the moi-t dangerous consetiuencee. He so much exasperated the empe- ror against the prince of balenio, that Ferrante, finding there was no longer any security for him at Naples, and having in vain applied to gain an audi- ence of the emperor, retired to Rome, and re- nounced his allegiance to Charles V. Bernardo Tasso would not abandon his patron in his ill fortune; neither would he leave his son in a country \vhere he himself was t^oon to be declared an enemy ; and foreseeing he should never be able to return thither, he took ycung Torquato witb hio» to Rome. 16 THE LIFE OF TASSO. As soon as the departure of the prince of Salem* was known, he, nnd :tll his adhereuts, were declared r^-hels to the state; and \v}iat nny seem very extra- ordinary, Torquato Tiisso, thous^h but nine years of a^e, was included by uaiue in ih\t siiatence- Ber- nardo, follo'.ving the prince of Salerno into France,, committed his sou to the care of his friend and re- lation Mauritio Cataneo, a person of ^eat ability, who assiduously cultivated the early disposition of his pupil to polite literature. After the death of Sanseverino, which happened in three or four jears, Bernardo returned to It.ily, and engaged in the ser- vice of Guglielmo (Jonznga, duke of Mantua, who had given him a pressing invitation. It was not long before he received the melancholy news of the de- cease of his wife Portia : this event determined hini to send for his son, tliat they mi^ht be a mutual support to each other in tl\eir affliction. He had loft him at Rome, because his residence in that city was highly agreeable to bis mother; but that reason now ceasing, he was resolved to b<' no longer de- prived of the society of the only child he had left ; for hi; wife, before her death, had married his (laughter to Martio Sersale, a gentleman of Sorrento. B<>rnardo was greatly surprized, on his son's arri- val, to see the vast progress he had made in his studies. He was now twelve years of age, and hid, according to the testimony of the writejs of his life, entirely cotupleted his knowledge in the Latin and Greek tongues: he was well acquainted with the rules of rhetoric and poetry, and completely versed in Aristotle's ethics; but he particularly studied the precepts of Mauritio Cataneo, whom he ever after- wards revrre.iced as a second father. Bernardo soon rteterminetl to send him to the university of Padua, to study the laws, in company with the young Scipio Gonzaga, afterwarils cardinal, nearly of the same age as himself. With this nol)l(>man Tasso, then se\enteen years of age, contracted & friendiliip tint never ended but with hi.- liiV. THE LIFE OF TASSO. it He prosecuted his studies at Padua with great dili- jrence and success; at the same time employing his leisure hours upon philosophy and poftry, he sooa gave a public proof of his talent':, by his poem of Rinaldo, which he published in the eighteenth year of his a_'e. This poem, which is of the romance kind, is di- vided into twelve books in ottava rima, and contains the adventures of Rinaldo, the famous Paladin of the court of t harlemain, who makes so principal a fi^re in Ariosto's work, and the first achievements of that knight for the love of the fair Clarice. wl:om be afterwards marries. The action of thi« poem precedes that of the Orlando Furioso. It was com- posed in ten months, as the author himself informs us in the preface, and was first printed at Venice in the year 1562. Paolo Beni speaks very highly of this performance, which undoubtedly is not unworthy the early efforts of that genius which afterwards produced the Jerusalem. Tasso's father saw with regret the success of his son's poem : he was apprehensive, and not without reason, that the charms of poetry would detach him from those more solid studies, which he judged were most likf !y to raise him in the world : he knew very well, by his own experience, that the greatest skill In poetry will not advance a man's private fortune. He was not deceived in his conjecture; Torquato, insensibly carried away by his predominant passion, followed the examples cf Petrarch, Boccace, Ariosto, and others, who, contrary to the remonstrances of their friendii, quitted the severer studies of tlie law for the more pleasing entertainment of poetical com- position. In short, he entirely gave himself up to the study of poetry and philosophy. His first poem extended his reputation through all Italy ; but his father was so displeased with his conduct, that he went to Padna on purpose to reprimand him. Though he spoke with great vehemence, and m'alia u?e of several harbh expressions, Torquato heard IS THE LIFE OF TASSO. him without inteiniptirg him, and his composuie contributed not a little to increase his father's dis- pleasure. '• Tell me,*' said Bernardo, " of what use is tliat vam philosophy, upon which you pride yourself so much ?'' " It has enabled me," said Tasso, modestly," " to endure the harshness of youi- reproofs." The resolution Tasso had taken to devote himself to the Muse?, was known all over Italy; the princi- pal persons of the citj- and college cf Bolog:ua in- vited him thither by means of Pietro Donato Cesi, then vice-legate, and afterwards legate. But Tasso bad not long re«ided there, when he was pressed by Scipio Gonzaga, elected prince of the academy esta- blished at Padua, under the name of Etherei, to re- turn to that city. Tie coiild tiot withstand this solici- tation, and Bologna being at that time the scene of civil commotion, he was the more willing to seek elsewhere for the repose he loved. He was received with extreme joy by all the academy, and being in- corporated into that society, at the age of twenty years, took upon himself the name of Pentito; by which he seemed to shew that he repented of all the time which he had employed in the study of the law. In this retreat he applied himself afresh to philo- sophy and poetry, and soon became a perfect master of both: it was this happy mixture of his studies that made him an enemy to all kinds of licentious- cess. An oration was made one day in the aca- demy upon the nature of love; the orator treated his subject in a very masterly manner, but with too little regard to decency in the opinion of Tasso, who, being asked what he thought of the discourse, re- plied, " that it was a pleasin? poison." Here Tasso formed the design of his celebrated poem, Jerusalem Delivered: he invented the fable, disposed the different parts, and determined to de- dicate this work to the glorj of the house of Esté. He was greatly esteemed by Alphonsolf.tbe last THE LIFE OF TASSO. iS iiuke of Fenara, that srreat patron of learning and learned men, and b_v his brother, Cardinal Luigi, There was a sort of contest between these two bro- thers, in relation to the poem : the cardinal imagined that he had a right to he the Maecenas of all Tasso's works, as Rinaldo, his first piece, had been dedi- cated to him: the duke, on the other hand, thought that, as his brother had already received his share of honour, he ought not to be offended at seeing the name of Alphonso at the head of the Jerusalem De- Kvered. Tasso for three or four years suspended his determination: at length, being earnestly pressed by both the brothers to take up his residence in FeiTara, he suffered himself to be prevailed upon. The duke gave him an apartment in his palace, where be lived in peace and affluence, and pursued his design of Completing his Jerusalem,* which he now resolved to dedicate to Alphonso. The duke, who was desirous of fixiiig Tasso near him, had thoughts of marrying him advantageously, but he always evaded any pro- posal of that kind: though he appeared peculiarly devoted to Alphonso, yet he neglected not to pay his court to the cardinal. The name of Tasso now "became famous through ail Europe: and the caresses he received from Charles IX. in a journey lie made to FraDce+ with Cardinal Luigi, who Ment thither in quality of Le- gate, shew that his reputation was not contìned to his own country. We eannot perhaps give a more striking instance of the regard that mouaich had for him, than in the following story. A man of letters, and a poet of some repute, had unfortunately been guilty of some enormous crime, for which he was condemned to suffer death. Tasso, touched with compassion, was resolved to petition the king for his pardon. He went to the palace, where he heard that orders had just been given to put the sentence immediately into execution. This did not discourage Tasso, who, * Ann. »t. 22. t Ann. aet. 27. 20 THE LIFE OF TASSO. j)resent!ng himself before the king, said : " I come to iatreat joar majest\ that jou would put to death a wretch, who has brought philosophy to shame, by shewing that she can uiaiie no sta'id against humaa depravity." The kiug, touched with the justness of this reflection, granted the criminal his life. The king asked him one day, whom he judged juperior to all others in happiness: he answered, God. The king then desired to know his opinioQ by what men resemble God in his happiness, whether by sovereign power, or by their capacity of doing good to others. A man more interested than Tasso might liave said, that kings shew their greatness by dispensing their benefa.ctions to others : but he eluded the discourse; and replied, "that men couJd resemble God only by their virtue." Another time, in a conversation held before the king by several learned men, it was disputed what condition in life was the most unfortunate. " la my opinion (said Tasso) the most unfortunate con- dition is that of an " impatient old man depressed with poverty ; for," added he, the state of that per- son is doubtless very deplorable, who has neither the gifts of fortune to preserve him from want, nor the Tirinciples of philosophy to support himself un- der aflliction." The cardinal's legation being tinished, Tasso re- turned to Ferrara,* where he applied himself to finish his Jerusalem, and in the mean time publish- ed bis Aminta, a pastoral comedy,+ which was re- ceived with urivei-sal applause. This performance was looked upon as a master-piece in its kind, and is the original of the Pastor Fido and Filli di Sciro. It was not easy to imagine that Tasso could so well paint the effects of love, without having him- gelf felt that passion : it began to be suspected that, like another Ovid, he had raised his desires too high, and it was thought that in many of his verses ha • Ann. set. %S. \ Anu. act 30. THE LIFE OF TASSO. 21 gave hints of that kind, particularly in the follo\(f ng sonnet: Se d' Icara lefrs;e»ti, e di Fetonte Ben sai come lu'n cadde in questo fiume Quando portar del'Oriente il lume ^olle, e di rài de sol cinger la fronte : E l'altro in mar, che troppo arditte, e pronte A volo alzo le sue cerate piume, E cosi va clii di tentar presume Strade nel ciel per fama a pena conte. Ma, chi dee paventare in alta impresa, S'avvien, ch'Amor l'affide? e che non puote Amor, che non catena il cielo unisce? •Eirli giù trahe de le celesti rote Di terrena beltà Diana accesa E d'Ida il bel fanciullo al ciel rapisce. Oft have we heard, in Po's imperial tide How hapless Ph*ton was headlong thrown, "Who durst aspire the Sun's bright steeds to guide. And wreathe his brows with splendors not his own! Oft have we heard, how 'midst th' Icavian main Fell the rash youth who tried too hold a flight; Thus shall it fare with him, who seeks in vain On mortal wings to reach tb' emi)yreal height. But who, inspir'il by Love, can dangers fear ? "What cannot Love that guides the rolling sphere ; Whose powerful magic earth and heaven controls ? Love brought Diana from the stirry sky, Sinit with the be luties of a mortal eye ; Love snatcli'd tlie boy of Ida to the pries. There were at the diilie's court three Leonoras, equally witty and beautiful, though of different quality. The first was Leonora of FMé, sister to the duke, who, having refuseà the most advantageous matches, lived unraanif^d with Lauretta, duche^ of Urbino, her eldest si-ttr, who was separated from her husband, and resided at lier brother's court. — Tasso had a great attachraent to this lady, who, on her side, honoured him with her esteem and protec- tion. She was wise, generous, and not only well read in elegant literature, hut even versed in the more abstruse sc'ences. All these perfections were undoubtedly observed by Tasso, who was one of the most assiduous of her courtiers : and it appearing by his verses that he was touched with the charms of a Leonora, they tell us that we need not seek any farther for the object of his passion. 52 THE LIFE OF TASSO. The second Leonora that was given him- for.» mistress was the countess of San Vitale, daughter of the count of Sala, who lived at that time at the Court of Ferrara, and passed for one of the most I a ccoraplished persons in Ital v. Those who imagined tiiat Tasso would not presume to lift his eyea to his master's sister, supposed that he loved this lady. It is certain that he had frequent opportunities of dis- coursing with her, and that she had frequently been the subject of his verses. The third Leonora was a ladj- in the service of the princess Leonora of Esté. This person was thought b\' some to be the most proper object of the poet's gallantry. Tasso, several times, employed his muse in her sei-vice: in one of his pieces he con- fesses that, consideri ag the princess as too high for his hope, he had fixed his aflfection upon her, as of a condition more suitable to his own. But if any thing can be justly drav/n from this particular, it seems rather to strengthen the opinion, that his de- sires, at least at one time, had aspired to a greater height. The verses referred to above are as follow : O con le Grdtie eletta, e con gli Amori, Fanciulla avventurosa : A servir a colei, che Dia somiglia: Poi che' 1 mio sguardo in lei mira, e non osa, I' raggi e gli splendori, E' 1 bel seren de gli occhi, e de le ciglia,- Ne 1' alta meraviglia, Che ne discopre il lampeggiar del riso; Ne Quanto ha de celeste il petto, el volto; Io gli occhi a te rivolto, E nel tuo vezzosetto, e lieto viso Dolcemente ra' affiso. Bruna sei tu, ma bella, , Onal virgine viola : e del tuo vago Sembiante io si m'appago. Che nou disdegna Signoria d'Ancella. O '. by the Graces, by the Loves, design'd, lu happy hourt' eujoy an envyM place : Attendant on the fairest of her kind, Whose charms excel die charms of human race Ì Fain wotild I view — but dare not lift my sight To mark the splendor ol her piercing eves ; Her heavenly smiles, her bosom's dazzling white, , Her nainelcs; graces that tb^ soul surprise». THE LIFE OF TASSO. «3 To thee I then direct my humbler gaze ; To thee uncensur'd may ray hopes aspire : l.ess awful are the sweets thy look disjilays ; I view, and, kindling as I view, desire. Tlioiiph brown thy hue, yet lovely is thy fame ; {So blooms some violet, the virgin's care I) Ilmrn-- yet Illusi) not to confess mv flame, Nor scorn the empire of a menial fair. However, it appears difficult to detcrmÌDe with certaiuty in relation to 1'asso's passion ; especially when we consider the priv ilege allowed to poets : though M. Mirabaud* makes no scruple to mention it as a circumstance almost certain, and fixes it •without hesitation on the princess Leonora. Tasso, himself, in several of his poems, seem»^ to endeavouv "to throw an obscurity over his passion, as in the following lines : Tre gran donne did' io, ch'in esser heUs Moustran disparita, ma somigliante Si che uè gli atti, e'n o^ni lor sembiante Scriver Natura par': Noi slam sorelle. Ben ciascun" io lodai, pur una d'elle Mi piacque si, ch'io ni divenni Amante. Et ancor fia, ch'io ne sospiri, e caute, E'I mio foco, e'I suo nome alzi a le stelle Lei sol vagheggio ; e se pur l'altre io miro, Guardo nel vago altrui quel, ch'ein lei vago, E ne gì' Idoli suoi vien ch'io l'adere : Ma contanto somiglia al ver l'imago Ch'erro, e dole' e Terror ; pur ne sospiro, Come d'ingiusta Idolatria d'Amore. SONNET. Three conrtly dames before my presence stood ; All lovely form'd, though differing in their grace; Yet each resembled each ; for nature show'd A sister's air in every mien and face. Each maid I prais'd : hut one above the rest. Soon kindled in my heart the lover's fire : For her these sighs still issue from my breast ; Her name, her beauties, still my song inspire. Yet tliough to her alone my thoughts are due, Rertected in the rest her charms I view, And in her semblance still the nymph adore: Delusion sweet ! from this to thit I rove ; But, while I wander, sigh, and fear to prove A traitor thus to Love's almighty power ! In the meanwhile Tasso proceeded with his Je» r\isalem, which he completed in the thirtieth year of * Abregé de la Vie du Tasse. SI The life of tasso. iiis age : but this poem was not published by his oub authority ; it was printed against bis will, as soou as he bad finislied the last book, and before he had time to give the revisals and corrections that a work of such a nature required. The public had alreadya seen several parts, which had been sent into the world by the authority of his patrons. The success of this work was prodigious : it was translated into the Latin, French, Spanish, and even the Oriental languages, almost as soon as it appeared : and it may be said, that no such performance ever before raised its reputation to such a l)eigbt in so small a space of time. But the satisfaction wliich Tasso must feel, in spite of all his philosophy, at the applause of the public, was soon disturbed by a melancholy event.* j Bernardo Tasso, who spent his old age in tranquil- * lity at Ostia upon the Po, the goverament of which i place had been given him by the duke of Mantua, i fell sick. As soon as this news reached his son, he I immediately went to him, attended him with the most filial regard, and scarce ever stirred from his ^d-side during the ^wlwle time of his illness : but all these cares were ineffectual ; Beinoi'do, oppres- sed with age, and overcome by the violence of his distemper, paid the unavoidable tribute to nature, to the great affliction of Torquato. The duke of Manina, who had a sincere esteem for Bernardo, caused him to be interred, with much pomp, in the church of St. Egidius at Mantua, with this simple inscription on his tomb: OSSA BERNARDI TASSI. This death seemed to forebode other misfortunes to Tasso ; for the remainder of his life proved almost one continued series of vexation and affliction.— About this time a swarm of critics began to attack ^'h Jerusalem, and the academy of Cmsca, in pala- ti. 31 THE LIFE OF TASSO. 25 ticular, published a criticism of his pcem, in which they scrupled not to prefer the rhapsodies of Pulci and Boyardo to the Jerusalem Delivered. During: Tasso's residence in the duke's court, he had contracted an intimacy with a gentleman of Ferrara,* and having entrusted him with some trans- actions of a very delicate nature, this person was so treacherous as to speak of them again. Tasso re- proached his friend with his indiscretion, who re- ceived his expostulation in such a manner, that Tasso was so far exasperated as to strike him : a challenge immediately ensued : the two opponents met at St. Leonard's gate, but, while they were engaged, three brothers of Tasso's antagonist came in and baselj tell all at once upon Tasso, who defended himself io gallantly that he wounded two of them, and kept lis ground against the others, till some people came n and separated them. This affair made a great noise at Ferrara : nothing was talked of but the va- lour of Tasso; and it became a sort of proverb, ' That Tasso, with his pen and his sword, was supe- ior to all raen."'t The duke, being informed of the quarrel, expres- sed great resentment against the four brothers, ba- lished them from his dominions, and conliscated' ;heir estates ; at the same time he caused Tasso to 36 put uuder arrest, declaring he did it to screen lim from ariy future designs of his enemies. Tasso vas extremely mortilied to see himself thus con- ined ; he imputed his detention to a very different ;ause from what was pretended, and feared an ill ise might be made of what had passed, to ruin lim in the duke's opinion. Though writers have left us very much in the dark *ith regard to the real motives that induced the luke to keep Tasso in confinemeiit, yet, every thing ,3eing weighed, it seems highly probable that the * Ann. stt. 33. t "Con la penna e con la spada « Is>ss'JU vai quanto Toniuat».-" c 26 THE LIFE OF TASSO. affair of a delicate nature, said to have been di\Tilg- ed by his friend, must have related to the princess Leonora, the duke's sister: and indeed it will be ex- tremely diflScult, from any other consideration, to account for tlie harsh treatment he received from a prince who had before shewn him such peculiar marks of esteem and friendship. However, Tasso himself had undoubtedly secret apprehensions that incrpased upon him every day; while the continual attacks, which were made upon his credit as an au- thor, not a little contributed to heighten his melan- choh. At length he resolved to take the first op- portunity to fly from his prison, for so he esteemed it ; which, after about a year's detention, he eflFected, and retired to Turin, where be endeavoured to re- main concealed; but, notwithstanding all his pre- cautions, he was soon known and recommended to the duke of Savoy, who received him into his pa- lace, and shewed him every mark of esteem and af- fection. But Tasso's apprehensions still continued ; he thought that the duke of Savoy would not refuse to give him up to the duke of Ferrara, or sacrifice the friendship of that prince to the safety of a pri- vate person. Full of these imaginations, beset out for Rome,* alone and unprovided with necessaries for such a journey. At bis arrival there he went directly to his old friend Maurilio Cataneo, who re- ceived him in such a manner as entirely to obliterate for some time the remembrance of "the fatigue and uneasiness be had undergone. He was not only welcomed by Cataneo, but the whole city of Rome seemed to rejoice at the presence of so extraordinary a person. He was visited by princes, cardinals, prelates, and by all the learned in general. But the desire of re-visiting his native country, and see- ing his sitter Cornelia, soon made him uneasy in this situation. He left his friend Maiiritio Cataneo oae evening, without giving him notice ; and, beginning •Ann. 8it. 34. THE LIFE OF TASSO. 27 his journey on foot, arrived bj night at the moun- tains of Vcletri, where he took up his lodging with ^ some shepherds : the next morning, disguising liim- self in the habit of one of these people, he continued his way, and in four days time reached Gaieta, almost spent with fatigue : here he embarked on board a vessel bound for Sorrento, at which place he arrived in safety the next day. He entered the city and went directly to his sister's house : she was a widow, and the two sons she had by her husband being at that time absent, Tasso found her with only some of her female attendants. He advanced to- wards her, without disco\ ering himself ; and, pretend- ing ie came with news from her brother, gave her a letter which he had prepared for that purpose. This letter informed her that her brother's life was in great danger, and that he begged her to make use of all the interest her tenderness might suggest to her, in order to procure letters of recommendation from some powerful person, to avert the threatened misfortune. For further particular» of the aflFair, she was referred to the messenger who brought her this intelligence. The lady, terrified at the news, earnestly intreated him to give her a detail of her brother's misfortune. The feigned messenger then gave her so interesting an account of the pretended story, that, unable to contain her affliction, she fainted away. Tasso was sensibly taracbed at this convincing proof of his sister's aff-ction, and repciit- ed that he had gone so far : he began to comfort btT, and, removing her fears by little and little, at last discovered himself to her. Her joy, at seeing a bro- ther whom she tenderly loved, was inexpressible: after the first salutations were over, she was very desirous to know the occasion of his disguising Jiim- self iu that manner. Tasso acquainted her with hi? reasons, and, at the same time giving h.er to un- derstand, that he would willingly rem.iin with her unknown to the world, Cornelia, who desised no- thing further than to acquiesce in his pleasure, sent C 2 3S THE LIFE OF TASSO, for her children and some of her nearest relations, whom «he thought might be entrusted with the se- cret. Thej agreed that Tasso should pass for a relatisn of theirs, who came from Bergamo to Na- ples upon his private business, and from thence had come to Sorrento to pay them a visit. After this precaution, Tasso took up his residence at Jiis sis- ter's house, where he lived for some time in tran- quillity, entertainingjhimself with bis two nephews Antonio and Alessandro Sersale, children of great hopes. He continued not long in this repose before he received repeated letters from the princess Leo- nora of Esté, who was acfiuainted with ths place of his retreat, to return to Ferrara : he resolved to obey the summons, and took leave of bis sister, telling her he was going to return a voluntary prisoner. In his way he passed through Rome, where, having been detained some time with a dangerous fever, he re- paired from thence to Ferrara, in company with Gua- lingo, ambassador from the duke to the pope. Concerning the motive of Tasso's return to Fer- rara, authors do not altogether agree : some declare that, soon wearied of living in obscurity , and grow- ing impatient to retrieve the duke's favour, he had resolved, of his own accord, to throw himself on that prince's generosity : this opinion seems indeed drawn from Tasso's own words, in a letter written by him to the duke of Urbino, in which he declares " that he had endeavoured to make his peace with the duke, and had for that purpose written severally to him, the duchess of Ferrara, the duchess of IJr- bino, and the princess Leonora ; yet never received any answer but from the last, who assured him it was not in her power to render him any service." We see here that Tasso acknowledges himself the receipt of a letter from the princess ; and in regard to what he says to be the purport of it, it is highly reasonable to suppose, that he would be very cau- tious of divulging the real contents to the duke of rb!')o. when fiis affairs with th^t lady were so du- i THE LIFE OF TASSO. 29 licately circumstanced. This apparent care to con- ceal the nature of his correspondence with her, seems to corroborate the former suppositions of his uncommon attachment to her ; and when all circum- stances are considered, we believe it will appear more than probable that he returned to Ferrara at the particular injunction of Leonora. The duke received Tasso with great seeming sa- tisfaction, and gave him fresh marks of his esteem : but this was not all that Tasso expected . His great desire was to be master of his own works, and he was verj' earnest that his writings might be restored to him, which were in the duke's possession ; but this was what he could by no means obtain : his ene- mies had gained such an ascendency over the mind of Alphonso, that they made him believe, or pre- tend to believe, that the poet had lost all his fire, and that in his present situation he was in- capable of producing any thing new, or of correct- ing bis poems : he therefore exhorted him to think only of leading a quiet easy life for the future. Bat Tasso was sensibly vexed at this proceeding, and believed the duke wanted him entirely to relinquish his studies, and pass the remainder of his days in idleness and obscurity. " He would endeavour (says he, in his letter to the duke of Urbino) to make me a shameful deserter of Parnassus for the gardens of Epicurus, for scenes of pleasure unknown to Virgil, Catullus, Horace, and even Lucretius himself."" Tasso reiterated his entreaties to have his writings restored to him, but the duke continued inflexible, and, to complete our poet's vexation, all access to the princesses was denied him ; fatigued at length with useless remonstrances, he once more quitted Ferrara, and fled (as he expresses it lumself) like another Bias, leaving behind him even his books and manuscripts. He then went to Mantua, where be found duke Guglielmo in a decrepid age, and little disposed to so THE LIFE OF TASSO. protect him against the duke of Ferrara : the Prince Vincentio Gonzaga received him indeed with great caresses, but was too young to take him under his protection. From thence he went to Padua and Venice ; but, carrying with him in every part bis fears of the duke of Ferrara, be at last had recourse to the duke of Urbino,* who shewed him great kind- ness, but perhaps was very little inclined to embroil himself with his brother-in-law, on such an account : he advised Tasso rather to return to Ferrara, which counsel he took, resolving once more to try his for- tune with the duke. Alphonso, it may be, exasperated at Tasso's flight, and pretending to believe that application to study had entirely disordered his understanding, and that a strict regimen was necessary to restore him to bis former state, caused him to be strictly confined in the hospital of St. Anne. Tasso tried every me- thod to soften the duke and obtain his liberty ; bat the duke coldly answered those who applied to him, " that instead of concerning themselves with the complaints of a person in his condition, who was very little capable of judging for his own good, they ought rather to exhort him patiently to submit to such remedies, as were judged proper for his cir- cumstances."' This confinement threw Tasso into the deepest despair : he abandoned himself to his misfortunes , aud the methods that were made use of for the cure of his pretended madness had nearly thrown him into an absolute delirium. His imagination was so disturbed that he believed the cause of his distem- per was not natural : he sometimes fancied himself haunted by a spirit, that continually disordered his books and papers ; and these strange motions were perhaps strengthened by the tricks that were plajed him by his keeper. MTiile Tasso continued in this melancholy situation, he is said to have writ- * Ann. act. 35- THE LIFE OP TASSO. 31 ten the following elegant, simple, and affecting lines, which cannot well be translated into English verse : Tu cbe ne vai in Pindo I\-i pende mia cetra ad un cipresso, Salutala in mio nome, e dil!e poi Ch'io son dagl' anni e da fortuna oppresso.* This second confinement of Tasso was much lon- ger than the first. He applied in vain to the pope, the emperor, and all the powers of Italy, to obtain his liberty : till, at last, after seven years imprison- ment, he gained what he so ardently wished for, in the following manner. CaBsar of Esté having brought his new spouse, Virginia of Medicis, to Ferrara, all the relations of that illustrious house assembled together on this oc- casion, and nothing was seen in the whole city but festivals and rejoicings. Vincentio Gonzaga, prince of Mantua, particularly distinguished himself among the great personages then at the duke's court. This nobleman interceded so earnestly with Alphonso for Tasso's liberty, that he at last obtained it,f and car- ried him with him to Mantua, where he lived with him, some time after the death of duke Ckiglielmo, highly favoured. It is said that the young prince, who was natural- ly gay, being desirous to authorise his pleasures by tìie example of a philosopher, introduced one day into Tasso's company thre« sisters to sing and play upon instruments : these ladies were all very hand- some, but not of the most rigid virtue. After some short discourse, he told Tasso, that he should take take two of them away, and leave one behind, and bade him take his choice. Tasso answered ; " that it cost Paris very dear to give the preference to one of the Goddesses, and theriefore, with his permission, he designed to retain the three." The prince took him at his word, and departed ; when Tasso, after a * Thou, that ^oest to Pindns, where my harp hang» on a cypress, salute it in my name, and say uiatl am oppresse»! with years and misfortunes. t Anu. set. 42. Ài THE LIFE OF TASSO. little conversation, dismissed them all handsomrijr irith presents. At last, weary of living in a continual state of de- pendence, he resolved to retire to Naples, and en- deavour to recover his mother's jointure, which had been seized upon by her relations when he went into exile with his father Bernardo. This appeared the only means to place him in the condition of life he so much desired. He applied to his friends, and having procured favourable letters to the viceroy, he took leave of the duke of Mantua and repaired to Bergamo,* where he stayed some time, and from thence went to Naples. + WTiile Tasso continued at Naples, dividing his time between his studies and the prosecution of his law-suit, the young count of Falena, by whom he was highly esteemed, persuaded him to take up his residence with him for some time : but in this affair he had not consulted the prince of Conca, his father, who, though he had a value for Tasso, yet could not approve of his son's receiving into his house the only person that remained of a family once devoted to the prince of Salerno. A contention being likely to ensue, on this account, betwixt the father and son. Tasso, with his usual goodness of disposition, to remove all occasion of dispute, withdrew from Naples, and retired to Bisacio, j with his friend Man- so, in whose company he lived some time with great tranquillity. In this place Manso had an opportunity to exa- mine the singular effects of Tasso's melancholy ; and often disputed with him concerning a familiar ipirit, which he pretended to converse with. Manso endeavoured in vain to persuade his friend that the whole was the illusion of a disturbed imagination : but the latter was strenuous in maintaining the reality of what he asserted ; and, to convince Manso, desired him to be present at one of those mysterious eonversations. Manso had the complaisance to ' *AnB. a:t.43. + Ann. *t. 44. t A un. act. 45- THE LIFE OF TASSO. 3S meet him the next day, and while they were engaged in discourse, oa a sudde.i observed that Tasso kept his eyes upon a window, and remained iu a manner immoveable. He called hira by his name several times, but received no answer: at la?t. Tasso cried out, '• There is the friendly spirit who is come to converse with me ; look, and you will be couvijced of the truth of all that I have said." Mauso heard him with surprize : he looked, but saw not! iug ex- cept the sun-beams darting through the window : he cast his eves all over the room, but coi.ld perceive nothing, and was just going to a>k wliera the pre- tended spirit was, wl;eu he heard Tasso speak with great earnestness, sometimes putting questions to the spirit, and sometimes giving answers, delivering the whole in such a pleasing manner, and with such elevated expressions, that he listened with admira- tion, and bad not the least iiiclination to interrupt him. At last this uncommon conversation ended with the departure of the spirit, as appeared by Tasso's words ;. who, turning towards Manso, ask- ed him if his doubts were removed. Manso was more amazed than ever ; he scarce knew what to think of his friend's situation, and waved any further conversation on the subject. At the approach of winter they returned to Na- ples, when the prince of Falena again pressed Tasso to reside with him ; but Tasso, who judged it highly unadvisable to comply with his request, resolved to retire to Rome, and wait there the issue of his law- suit. He lived in that city about a year, ia high eiteem with pope Sextus V. when, being Invited to Florence by Ftrdiaando, grand duke of Ti.scany, who had been cardinal at Rome, when Ta>so first resided there, and who now employe-J the pope's in- terest to procure a visit from him, he could not withstand such solicitations, but went to Florence, where he met ->vilh a most gracious reception.* Yet not ali tJie caresses he received at the duke's court, * Add. Kt. 46. C 5 34 THE LIFE OF TASSO. nor all the promises of that prince, could overcome liis love for his native country, or lessen the ardent desire he had to lead a retired and iudependent life. He therefore took his leave of the grand duke, who would have loaded him with presents; but Tasso, as usual, could he prevailed upon to accept of no more than was necessarj for his present occasions. He returned to Naples by the way of Rome,* and the old prince of Conca dying about this time, the young count of Falena prevailed upon Tasso, by the mediation of Manso, to accept of an apartment in his palace. Here he applied himself to a correction of his Jerusalem, or rather to compose a new work entitled Jerusalem Conquered, which he had begun during his first residence at Naples. The prince of Conca, being jealous lest any one should deprive him of the poet and poem, cau?ed him to be so nar- rowly watched that Tasso obser\ed it ; and, being dis- pleased at such a proceeding, left the prince's pa- lace and retired to his friend Manso's, where he lived master of himself and his actions: yet he still continued upon good terms with the prince of Conca. In a short time after he publi>he er he pleased. Tasso returned him thanks, but declined acceptina the of- fer, not cboosins:. perhaps, to rely on the word of a person of such character. Sciarni, upon this, sent a second message, by which he informed Tasso, that, upon his account, he would withdraw his men, and leave the wa}S open. He accordingly did so, and Tas^o, continuing his journey: arrived without any accident at Rome, where he was most graciously welcomed by the two cardinals and the pope himself. Tasso applied himself in a particulai' manner to car- dinal Cynthio, who had been the means of his com- ing to Rome: yet he neglected not to make his court to cardinal Aldobrandini. and he very fre- quently conversed with both of them. Ore day the two cardinals held an assembly of several prelates, to consult, among other tWngs, of some method to put a stop to the license of the Pasquinades. One proposed that Pa^quin's statue should be broken to pieces and cast into the river. But Tasso's opinion being askrd, he said, " it would be much more pru- deut to let it remain where it w as ; for otherwise from the fragments of the statue would be bred an infi- nite number of frogs on the banks of the Tyber, that would never cease to croak day and night." The pope, to whom cardinal Aldobrandini related what had passed, interrogated Tasso upon the subject. " It is true, holy father,*' said he, " such was my opinion; and I shall add moreover, that if vour holiness would silence P^squin, the only way is to put such people into employments as may give no oc- cision to any libels or disaffected discourse." At last, being again disgusted with the life of a courtier, he obtained permission to retire to Naples to prosecute his law-suit.* At his arrival there, be took up his lodging in the convent of St. Severin, with the fathers of St. Benedict. * Ann. aet. gO. THE LIFE OF TASSO. 37 Thus was Tasso once more in a state of tranqui!- lity and retirement, so highly agreeable to his dispc- sition, when cardinal Cynthio again found means to recai him, by prevailing on the pope to give him the honour of being solemnly crowned with laurel in the, capitol. Though Tasso himself was not in the least desirous of such pomp, yet he yielded to the persua- sion of others, particularly of his dear friend Manso, to whom he protested that be went merely at his earnest desire, not with any expectation of the pre- mised triumph, which he had a secret presage would never be. He was greatly aftected at parting from Manso, and took his leave of him as of one he should never see again. In his way he passed by Mount Cassino, to pay his devotion to the relicks of St. Benedict, for whom he had a particular veneration. He spent the festi- val of Christmas in that monastery, and from thence repaired to Rome, where he arrived in the beginning of the year 1593.* He was met at the entrance of that city by many prelates and persons of distinction, and was aftenvards introduced, by the two cardinals Cynthio and Pietro, to the presence of the pope, who was pleased to tell him, " that his merit would add as much honour to the laurel he was going to receive, as that crown had formerly given to those on whom it had hitherto been bestowed." Nothing was now thought of but the approaching solemnity : orders were given to decorate not only the pope's palace and the capito!, but all the princi- pal streets through which the procession was to pass. Yet Tasso appeared little moved with these prepara- tions, which he said would bs in vain : and being shewn a sonnet composed upon the occasion by his relation, Hercole Tasso, he answered by the follow- ing verse of Seneca : ^I^gQific^ verba mors prope admota excutit. His presages were but too true, for while they Aiiu. «et. 51. fìb^à 'J o 39 THE LIFE OF TASSO. waited for fair weather to celebrate the solemnitr , cardinal Cynthio fell ill, and continued for some time indisposed ; and, as soon as the cardinal bepran to recover, Tasso himself was seized with his la^t sickness— Thouarh he had only completed his fifty-first year, his studies and misfortunes had brought on a prema- ture old age. Being persuaded that his end was ap- proaching, he resolved to spend the few days he had to live in the monastery of St. Onuphrius. He was carried thither in cardinal Cynthio's coach, and re- ceived with the utmost tenderness by the prior and brethren of that order. His distemper was now so far increased, and his strength so exhausted, that all kind of medicine proved ineffectual. On the loth of April he was taken with a violent fever, oc- casioned perhaps by having eaten some milk, a kind of aliment he was particularly fond of. His life now seemed in imminent danger: the most famous physicians in Rome tried all their art, but in vain, to relieve bim : he grew worse and worse every da,> . Rinaldini, the pope's physician and Tasso's intimate friend, having informed him that his last hour was near at hand. Tasso embraced him tenderly, and with a composed countenance returned him tliauk? for his tidings;' then, looking up to heaven, he " ac- knowledged the goodness of God, who was at last pleased to bring him safe into port, after so long a storm."' From that time his mind seemed entirely disentangled from earthly affilrs: he received the sacrament in the chapel of the monastery, being conducted thither by the brethren. Whea he was brought back to his chamber, he was a«ked where he wished to be interred : he answered, in the church of St. Onuphrius ; and being desired to leave some me- morial of his will in writing, and to dictate himself the epitaph that should be engravrn on his tomb, he smiled and said, " that in regard to the first, he had little worldly ^oods to leave, and as to the se- cond, a plain stoue would suffice to cover him." He THE LIFE OF TASSO. 39 left caidiua! Cynthio his heir, and desired that liis own picture inigtt he given to Giovanni Baptista Manso, which had heen drawn hy his direction. At length, having attained the fourteenth day of his illness, he received the extreme unction. Cardinal Cynthio, hearing that he was at the lust extremity, came to visit him, and brought him the pope's bene- diction, a grace never conferred in this manner but on cardinals and persons of tiie first distinction. Tasso acknowledged this honour with great devotion and humility, and said, " that this was the crown he came to receive at Rome." The cardinal having asked hira " if he had any thing further to desire," he replied, " the only favour he had now to beg of him, was, that he would collect together the copies of all his works (particularly his Jerusalem Deliver- ed, which he esteemed most imperfect) and commit them to the fiamec : this task, he confessed, might be found something difficult, as those pieces were dispersed abroad in so many different places, but yet he ti-usted it would not be found altogether imprac- ticable." He ^1 as so earnest in his request, that the cardinal, unwilling to discompose him by a refusal, gave hira such a doubtful answer as led him to be- lieve that his desire would be complied with. Tasso theu requesting to be left alone, the cardinal took his farewel of him with tears in his eyes, leaving with him his confessor and some of the breth.ren of the monastery. In this condition he continued all night, and till the miadle of next day, the iSth of April, bei'.'-g the festival of St. Mark, when, finding himself fainting, he embraced his cracifix, uttering these words: Inmayuts tuas. Domine — but expired before he could finish the sentence. Tasso was tall and well-shaped, his complexion fair, but rather pale through sickness and study ; the hair of his head was of a chesuut colour, but that of his bear.l somewhat lighter, thick and bushy ; his fore- head s(iuare and high, his head large, and the fore part of it, towards the end of his liie, altogether 40 THE LIFE OF TASSO, bald ; his eye-brows were dark ; his eyes full, pierc- ing, and of a clear blue ; his nose large, his lips thin, his teeth w eil set and white ; his neck well pro- portioned ; his breast full ; his shoulders broad, and all his limbs more sinewy than fleshy. His voice was strong, clear, and solemn ; he spoke with deli- beration, and generally reiterated his last words : he seldom laughed, and never to excess. He was Tery expert in the exercises of the body. In his 01 atory, he used little action, and rather pleased by the beauty and force of his expressions, than by the graces of gesture and utterance, that compose so great a part of elocution. Such was the exterior of Tasso : as to his mental qualities, he appears to have been a great genius, and a soul elevated above the common rank of mankind. It is said of him, that there ne\er was a scholar more humble, a wit more devout, or a man more amiable in society. Never satisfied with his works, e\eu when they ren- dered his name famous throughout the world ; al- ways satisfied with his condition, even wliea be waiited every thing ; entirely relying on Providence and his friends; without malevolence towards his greatest enemies ; only wishing for riches that he might be seniceableto otbeis, and making a scruple to receive or keep any thing himself that was not absolutely necessary. So blameless and regular a life could not but be ended by a peaceable death, which carried him off anno 1593, in the fifty-second year of his age. He was buried the same evening, without pomp, accordili:; to his desire, i;i the church of St. Onu- phrius, and his body was covered with a plain stone. Cardinal Cynthio had pui-posed to erect a magnificeut nionumeut to his memory, but the de- sign wns so loi;g prevented by sickness and other accidents, that, ten ^ears after, Manso coming to Rome, went to visit his friend's lemains, and would have taken en himself the care of building a tomb ♦ohim: but this Cardinal Cvnthio would by no THE LIFE OF TASSO. 41 means permit, haviag determined himself to pay that duty to Tasso. However, Manso prevailed so far as to have the following words engraven on the stone : HIC lACET TORQVATVS TASSVS. Cardinal Cynthio dying without putting his de- sign in execution. Cardinal Bonifacio Bevilacqua, of an illustrious family of Ferrara, caused a stately sepulchre to be erected, in the church of St. Onu- phrius, over the remains of a man whose works haw made all others monuments superfluous. THE FIRST BOOK JERUSALEM DELIVERED. THE ARGUMENT. THE Christians, having assembled a vast armp under different leaders, for the recovery of Jerusalem from the Saracens, after various successes, eticamped i?z the plains of Tortosa. Al this time the action of the Poem begins. God sends his angel to the camp, and coni^ mands Godfrey to suminon a couiicil oj the chiefs. The assembly meets. Godjh-ey, with universal consent, is elected commander in chief of all the Christian fuvces. He reviews the army. The different nations described. The names and qualities of Ihe leaders. The army iegi^ its march towards Jerusalem. Aladiiie, king of Jerusalem, alarmed at the progress of the Christians, makes preparai ioiis for the defence of the city. THE FIRST BOOK OF JERUSALEAI DELIVERED. ArINIS, and the chief I sing:, whose righteous hands Redeenvd the tomb of Christ from impious bands ; Who much in council, much in field sustaia'd, Till just success his glorious labours gain'd : In vain the powers of hell oppos'd his course, 5 And Asi:i's arms, and L-ybia's minjrled force; Keaven bless'd his standards, and beneatli Iiis care Reduc'd bis wandering partners of the war. O sacred JWuse! who ne'er in Ida's shade With fading laurels deck'st thy radiant head : 1 But sit'st enthron'd, with stars immortal crown'd. Where blissful choirs their hallow';! strains resound ; Do thou inflame me with celestial fire, Assist my labours, and my song inspire : Forgive me, if with truth I fiction .ioiu, 1 h And grace the verse with other charms than thine._^_^ Thou know'st, the world with eager transport throng Where sweet Parnassus breathes tlse tuneful song ; That truth can oft, in pleasing strains convey'd, All'ire the fancy, and the mind persuade. 2ield to Spring's benignant course; òO When now th' Eternal, from his awful height, Entbron'd in purest rays of heavenly light, (As far remov'd above the starry spheres. As Hell's foundations from the distant stars) Cast on the subject world his piercing eyes, 55 And view'd at once the seas, the earth, and skies : He tum'd his looks intent on Syria's lands. And mark'd the leaders of the Christian bands; No secret from his searching eye conceal'd, But ali their bosoms to his view reveal'd. 60 Godfrey he sees, who burns with zeal to chase From Sion's wall the Pagans' impious race; And, while religious f.res his brfast inflame. Despises worldly empire, wealth, and fame. Far other scliemes i;i Baldwin next he views, 66 Whose restless heart Ambition's track pursuoa. B. I. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. *T Tancred he sees his life no longer prize, Th' insensate victim of a woman's eyes! Boemond he marks, intent to fix his reign In Antioch's town, his new acquir'd domain; 70 With laws and arts the people to improve. And teacli the worship of the pow'rs above: And while these thoughts alone his soul divide, The prince is lost to every care be>ide. He then beholds, in young Rinaldo's breast, 75 A warlike mind that scorn'd ignoble rest : Nor hopes of gold or power the youth inflame. But sacred thirst of never-dying fame ; From Guelpho's lips, with kindling warmth, he hears The ancients' glory, and their deeds reveres. 80 When now the Sovereign of the world had seen The cares and aims below of mortal men ; He call'd on Gabriel, from th' angelic race. Who held in glorious raak the second place; A faithful nunciate from the throne above, 85 Divine iaterpreter of heavenly love ! He bears the mandate from the realms of light. And waftapur pray'rs before th' Almighty's sight. To him tl' Eternal : — Speed thy rapid way, And thus to Godfrey's ear our words convey ; 90 Why this neglect ? Why linger thus the bands To free Jerusalem fiom impious hands ? Let him to council hi* the chiefs repair. There rouze the tardy to pursue the war. The powir supreme on him they shall bestow, 95 I here elect him for my chief below : The rest shall to bis sway submissive yield, Companions once, now subjects in the field. He said; and strait with zealous aidour prest, Gabriel prepares t' obey his Lord's behest. 100 He clothes his heavenly form with ether light, And makes it visible to human sight; In shape and limbs like one of earthly race, But bri;;hi!y shining with celestial grace: A youth he seem'd, in manhood's ripening years, 105 On i\\e smooth cheek when first the down appeus; 43 JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. I. Refulgent rays his beauteous locks enfold ; White are his nimble wings, and edg'd with gold : With these through winds and clouds he cuts his way. Flies o'er the land, and skims along the sea. 110 Thus stood th' angelic power prepar'd for flight. Then instant darted from th' empyreal height ; Direct to Lebanon his course he bent. There clos'd his plumes, and made his first descent ; Thence with new speed his airy wings he steer'd, 115 Till now in sight Tortosa's plains appear'd. The cheerful sun his ruddy progress held, Part rais'd above the waves, and part conceal'd : Now Godfrey, as accustom'd, rose to pay His pure devotions with the dawning ray : 1 -20 W^hen the bright form appearing from the east. More fair than opening morn, the chief address'd. Again return'd the vernal season view, That bids the host their martial toils renew : What, Godfrey, now withJiolds the Christians' bands To free Jerusalem from impious hands ? 126 Go, to the council every chief invite. And to the pious task their souls incite. Heaven makes thee General of his host below. The rest submissive to thy rule shall bow. 130 Dispatch'd from God's eternal throne I came. To bring thee tidings in his awful name : O think ! what zeal, what glory, now demands From such a host committed to thy hands ! He ceas'd, and ceasing, vauish'd from his sight To the pure regions of his native light : 136 While, with his words and radiant looks amaz'd. The pious Godfrey long in silence gaz'd. But when, his fitst surprise and wonder fled. He ponder'd all the heavenly vision said ; 11© W hat ardour then possess'd Ids swelling mind To end the war : his glorious task assign'd! Yet no ambitious thoughts his breast inflame (Though singled thus from ev'ry earthly name ;) But with bis own, his Maker's \vill couspires. 1 1» -And adds new fuel to his native fires. B. I. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. 4:> - Then strait the heralds round with speed he sends To call the council of his warlike friends ; Each word employs the sleeping zeal to raise. And wake the soul to deeds of martial praise. 150 So well his reasons and his prayers were join'd. As pleas'd at once, and won the vanquish'd mind. The leaders came, the subject troops obey'd. And BoEmond only from the summons stay'd. Part wait without encamp'd (a numerous band,) 15^ While part Tortosa in her walls detain'd. And now the mighty chiefs in council sate, (A glorious synod !) at the grand debatje ; When, rising in the midst, with awful look. And pleasing voice, the pious Godfrey spoke. 1 GO Ye sacred warriors! whom th' Almighty Powt Selects his pure religion to restore. And safe has led, by his preserving hand. Through storms at sea, and hostile wiles by land ; What rapid coui-se our conquering arras have run ! What rebel lands to his subjectiou won ! IGG How o'er the vanquisli'd nations spread the fame Of his dread ensigns, and his holy name ! Yet, not for this we left our natal seats. And the dear ple;lges of domestic sweets ; 1 70 On treach'rous seas the rage of storms to dare, And all the perils of a foreign war! For this, an end unequal to your arms, Nor bleeds the combat, nor the conquest charms : Nor such reward your matchless labours claim, 1 7.& Barbarian kingdoms, and ignoble fame! Far other prize our pious toils must crown ; Wt fight to conquer Sion's hallow'd town ; I To free from servile yoke the Christian train |)ppre?s'd so long in Slavery's galling chain ; ISO "o found in Palestine a regal seat, Vhere Piety may find a safe retreat ; Vhere none the pilgrim's zeal shall more oppose, " adore the tomb, and pay his grateful vows. u!l many dangerous tri ils have we known, I Si «t little honour all our toils have won : D so JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. /. Our purpose lost, while indolent we stay, Or turn the force of arms a different way. Why gathers Europe such a host from far. And kindles Asia with the flames of war ? 190 Lo ! all th' event our mighty deeds have shown— Not kingdoms rais'd, but kingdoms overthrown! Who thinks an empire midst his foes to found. With countless Infidels encompass'd round. Where Prudence little hopes from Grecian lands. And distant lie remov'd the western bands, 196 Insensate surely plans his future doom. And rashly builds his own untimely tomb. The Turks and Persians routed, Antioch won, Are gallant acts, and challenge due renown. 200 These w ere not ours, but wrought by him whose hand With such success has crown'd our favour'd band. But if, foi^etful of that aid divine. We turn these blessings from the first design ; Th' Almighty giver may forsake our name, 20& And nations round revile our former fame. Forbid it, Heaven! such favour should be lost, And vainly lavish'd on a thankless host. All great designs to one great period tend. And every part alike respects its end. 210 TU' auspicious season biears have long obscur'd in night : 2S0 Let eloquence like thine assist my tongue. And future times attend my deathless song I First in the field the Franks their numbers bring, Or.ce led by Hugo, brother to the king : 2S4 From Frarce they c?me, with verdant beauty crown'd, W hofe fertile soil four running streams surround ; W hen Death's relentless stroke their chief subdu'd. Still tl e same cause the valiant band pursu'd : Beneath the brave Clotharius' care they came, W ho vaunts no honour of a regal name : 290 A thousand, heavy arm'd, composed the train, An equal number follo%\*d on the plain : And like the first their semblance and their mien. Alike their aims and discipline were seen : These brought from Normandy, by Robert led, 295 A rightful prince amid their nation bred. William and Aderaar to these succeed, (The people's pastors) and their squadrons lead : Far different once their task by Henven assign'd, lieligious ministers t' inttnict mankind ! 300 But now the helmet on their heads thty bear. And learn the deathful business of bis war. Tin's brings from Orange and the neighbouring land Four hundred chosen warriors in his band ; And that conducts from Poggio to the field jOS Au equal trcop, no less in battle skilFd. B. I. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. 53 Great Baldwin next o'er Boloign's force presides, And, with his ovva, his brother's people guides. Who to liis conduct now resigns the post. Himself the chief of chiefs, and tord of all the host. Then came Carnuti's earl, net less renown'd 311 For martial prowess, than for counsel soand ; Four hundred in his train : but Baldwia leads Full thrice the nutaber arm'd on generous steeds. Near these, the plaia the noble Guelpho press'd, 315 By fortune equal to his merits bless'd ; A chief, who by his Roman sire could trace A long descent from Esté's princely race : But German by dominion and by name. To Guelplio's name he join'd his pristine fame: 320 He rul'd Carynthia, and the lands possess'd By Sueves and Rhethians once, his sway confess'd: O'er these the chief, by right raxternal, rei^uM, To these his valour many conquests gain'd : From thence he brings his troop, a h3,rdy race, S35 Still ready Death, in fighting fields, to face ; Beneath their roofs secur'd from wintry skies. The genial feast each joyful day supplies; Five thousand once ; now scarce a third remain'd. Since Persia's fight, of all the numerous band. 330 Next those, whose lands the Franks and Germans bound, Where Rhine and Maes o'erflow the fruitful ground. For countless herds and plenteous crops renown'd. With these their aid the neighbouring isles suppiy'd. Whose bariiis defend them from th' encroaching tidi : All these a thousand form'd, (a warlike band) 33G O'er whom another Robert held command. More numerous was the British squadron shown, I By William led, the monarch's youngest son. Tiie English in the bow and shafts are skill'd: 310 With them a northern nation seeks the field, Whom Ireland, from our world divided far. From savage woods and mountains, sends to war. Tancred was next, than whom no greater name (Except Rinaldo) fiU'd the list of fame ; Hit 54 JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. I. Of gentler manners, comelier to the sight. Or more intrepid in the day of fight : If aught of blame could such a soul reprove, Or soil his glorious deeds, the fault was loTe : A sudden love, that, born amidst alarms, 350 Was nurs'd v?ith anguish in the din of arms. 'Tis said, that, on that great and glorious day, When to the Franks the Persian host gave way. Victorious Taucred, eager to pursue The scatter-d remnants of the flying crew, 353 O'erspent with labour, sought some kind retreat, To quench his thirst and cool his burning heat ; When, to his wish, a chrystal stream he found. With bow'ry shade and verdant herbage crown'd: There sudden rush'd before his wondering sight, 3G0 A Pagan damsel sheath'd in armour bright : Her helm, unlac'd, her visage bare display *d. And, tir'd with tight, she sought the cooling shade. Struck wiih her looks, he view'd the beauteous dame, Adrair'd her charms, and kindled at the flame. 365 O wond'rous force of Love's resistless dart. That pierc'd at once and rcoted in his heart I Her helm she clos'd, prepar'd t' assault the knight. But numbers, drawing nigh, constrain'd her flight; The lotty virgin fled, but left behind 370 Her lovely form deep imag'd in his mind ; Still, in his thcDght, he views the conscious grove, Eternr.l fuel to the flames of love ! Pensive he comes, his looks his soul declare, With eyes cast downward and dejected air: 371» Eight hundred horse from fertile seats he leads. From hills of Tyrrhene and Campania's meads. Two hundred Grecians bora, were next to see. Active in field, from weighty armour free ; Their crooked sabres at their side they wear; 380 Theii- backs the sounding bows and quivers bear : ■V\ ith matchless swiftness were their steetls endu'd, InurM to toil, and sparing in their food : Swilt in attack they rush, and swift in flight. In troops retreating and dispers'd they fight : 383 B. /. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. bo Tatinus led their force ; the only band That join'd the Latian arras from Grecian laud : Yet near the scene of war (O lasting shame ! O foul dishonour to the Grecian name!) Thou, Greece, canst hear unmov'd the loud alarms, A tame spectator of the deeds of arms! 391 If foreign power oppress thy servile reign. Thou well deser v'st to wear the victor's chain. A squadron now, the last in order, came, In order last, but first in martial fame; 391- Adventurers call'd, and heroes fam'd afar, Terrors of Asia, thunderbolts of war! Cease, Argo, cease to boast thy warriors' might ; And, Arthur, cease to vaunt each fabled knight; These all th' exploits of ancient times exceed : 400 What chief is worthy such a band to lead r Ey joint consent, to Dudo.i's sway they yield, Of prudent age, experieuc'd in the field ; Whose youthful vigour joins with hoary hairs. His bosom mark'd with many manly scars. lu:- Here stood Eustatius with the first in fame, But more ennobled by his brother's name. Gernando here, the king of Norway's sou. Who vaunts his sceptred race and regal crown. There Engerlan, and there Rogero shin'd; 4li> Two Gerrards, with Rambaldo's dauntless mind ; With gallant Ubald and Gentonio join'd. Rosmondo with the bold must honour claim : Nor must oblivion hide Obizo's name : Nor Lombard's brethren three be left untold, -l 1 i Achilles, Sforza, Palamedes bold : Nor Otho fierce, whose valour won the shield That bears a child and serpent on its field : .'(■■. Nor Guasco, nor Ridolphus, I forget, Nor either Guido, both in combat great : 420 Nor must I Gernier pass, nor Eberard, To rob their virtue of its due regard. But wh^ neglects ray muse a wedded pair. The gallant Edward and Gildippe fair! àtì JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. 7. O partnere still in every battle try'd, 4? ó Not death your jrentle union shall divide! The school of love, which ev'ri the feaiful warm?. The dame instructed in the trade of arras : Still by his side her watchful steps attend ; Still on one fortune both their lives depend : 4.)i i No wound in fisrht can either singly bear, ?"or both alike in every ansruish share; And oft one faints to view the otI>.er"s wound, This shedding- blood, and that in sorrow drowa'd I But lo I o'er these, o'er ail the host confest, i3'> The \oung Rinaldo towerd above the rest : ^V ilh martial gi-ace hi? looks around he cast. And gazing crowds admir'd him as he passM. nature beyond his years his virtues shoot, Af, mix'd with blossoms, grows the budding fruit. WliHi clad in steel, he seems like iMar? to move ; 1 JI His face disclos'd, he looks the God of Love! This youth on Adige's far winding shore. To great Bertoldo fair Sophia bore. ^The infant from the breast Matilda rears, ) 1 i (The watchful guardian of his tender years ;) Ard, while beneath her care the youth remain*. His ripening age to regal virtue triins; Till the loud trumpet, from the distant east, M'ith early thirst of glory fir'd his breast. 450 Then (fifteen springs scarce changing o'er his head) Guideless, untaught, through ways unknown he tied ; Th' Egean sea he cross'd and Grecian lands, And reach'd, in climes remote, the t hristiau bands. Thrct years the warrior in the camp had seen, 45 j Yet scarce the down began to shade his chin. Now all the horse were past : in order led, Next came the foot, and Raymond at their head : Thoulouse he governs, and collects his train Between the Pyreneans and the main : i Go Four thousand, arm'd in proof, well us'd to bear Th' inclement seasons, and the toils of war : A band approv'd, io every battle try'd ; Nor could the band an abler leader guid?. B, L JERUSALEM DELIVERED. 57 Next Stephen of Amboise conducts his power : 465 From Tours and Blois he brings five thousand more : fio hardy nation this, inur'd to fi?ht. Though fenc'd in shining steel, a martial sight ! Soft is their soil, and of a gentle liind, And, like their soil, th' inhabitants inclin'd ; 470 Impetuous first th<^y run to meet the foe. But soon, repulsed, their forces languid grow. Alcastus was the third, with threatening mien ; (So Capaneus of old at Thebes was seen.) Six thousand warriors, in Helvetia bred, 475 Plebeians fierce, from Alpine heights he led : Their rural tools, that wont the earth to teai'. They turn'd to nobler instruments of war: And with those hands, accustomed herds to guide. They boldly now the might of kings defy'd. 4S0 Lo ! rais'd in air the standard proudly sho^vn, In which appear the keys and papal crown : Sev'n thousand foot there good Camillus leads. In heavy arms that gleam across the meads : O'erjoy'd he seems, decreed his name to grace, 4S5 And add new honours to his ancient race; W hate'er the Latian discipline may claim. In glorious deeds to boast an equal fame. Now every squadron rang'd in order due. Had pass'd before the ch?ef in fair review ; 490 When Godfrey strait the peers assembled holds, And thus the purport of his mind unfolds. Soon as the morning lifts her early bead, Let all the forces from the camp be led. With speedy course to reach the sacred town, 495 Ere yet their purpose, or their march is known. Prepare then for the way, for fight prepare. Nor doubt, my friends! of conquest in the war. These words, from such a chieftain's lips, inspire Each kindling breast, and wake the slumbering fire : Already for th' expected fight they burn, 501 And pant impatient for the day's return. Yet still some fears their careful chief oppress'd. But these he smother'd in his thoughtful breast : D& 'S JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. I. By certain tiding brought, he lately heard, 505 That Esrvpt-s kins his course for Gaza steer'd : (A frontier town that all the realm commands, And a strong barrier to the Sjrian lands.) Full well he knows the monarch's restless mind. Nor doubts in him a cruel foe to find. 510 Aside the pious leader Henry took, And thus his faithful messenger bespoke. Attend my words, some speedy bark ascend. And to the Grecian shore thy voyage bend : A youth will there arrive of regal name, 515 Who comes to share our arms and share our fame ; Princ? of the Danes ; who brings from distant lands, Beneath the frozen pole, his valiant bands : The Grecian monarch, vers'd in fraud, may try His arfs on him, and every means employ 5-20 To stop the youthful warrior in his course. And rob our hopes of this auxiliar force. >Iy faithful nunciate thou, the Dane invite. With every thought the gallant prince excite. Both for his fame and mine, to speed his way, 5?5 Nor tai:it his glory with ill-tim'd delay. Thou with the sovereign of the Greeks remain. To claim the succours promis'd oft in vain. He said; and having thus reveal'd his mind. And due credentials to his charge consign'd, 530 The trusty messeuger bis vessel sought. And Godfrey calm'd awhile his troubled thought- Soon as the rising morn, with splendour drest. Unlocks the portals of the roseate east, The noise of drums and trumpets fills the air, 531» And bids the warriors for their march prepare. Not half so grateful to the longing swain The lowering thunder that presages rain. As to these eager bands the shrill alarms Of martial clangors and the sound of arms. 540 At once they rose, with generous ardour press'd, M once their limbs in radiant armour dress'd: And rang'd in martial pomp (a dreadful band) >ieneatb their numerous chiefs ia order staud. B. I. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. b-? Now, man to man, the thick battalion? join'd, .") 4 & Unfurl their banners to the sportive wind; And in th' imperial standard rais'd on high, . The Cross triumphant blazes to the sky. Meantime, the sun above th' horizon gains The rising circuit of th' ethereal plains : 550 The pollsh'd steel reflects the dazzling light. And strikes with flashing rays the aching sight. Thick and more thick the sparkling gleams aspire, 1'ill all the champaign seems to glow with fire; While mingled clamours echo through the mea(l<, .■>:;.» The clash of arms, the neigh of trampling steeih 1 A chosen troop cf horse, dispatch'd before. In armour light, the country round explore. Lest fees in ambush should their march prevent ; \\'hile other bauds the cautious leader sent bCù The dikes to level, clear the rugged way. And free each pass that might their speed delay. No troops of Pagans could withstand their force ; No walls of strength could step their ranid course : In vain oppos'd the craggy mountain stood, £05 The rapid torrent and perplexing wood. So when the king of floods, in angry pride, With added waters swells his foamy tide. With dreadful loiin o'er the banks he flows. And nought appears that can his rage oppose. 5T0 The king of Tripoli bad power alone, (Well furnish'd, in a strongly-guarded town. With arms and men) to check the troops' advance^ But durst not meet in fight the host of France. T' appease the Christian chief, the heralds bring Pacific presents from the Pa.an king; 576 Who such conditions for the peace receives. As pious Godfrey, in his wisdom, gives. [stands. There from mount Seir, that near to eastward And from above the subject to-4vn commands, 5S0 The faith! ul pour in numbers to the plain ; (Each sex and every age, a various traini) Their gifts before the Christian leader bear. With joy they view him, and with transport liear; co JERUSALEM DELRERED. B. I. Gaze on the foreign garb with wondering eje, 555 ^nd with unfailing guides the ho?t supply. Now Godfrey with the camp pursues his way, Along the borders cf the neighbouring sea : For station'd there his friendly vessels ride, From which ihe army's wants are well supply'd : For him alone each Grecian isle is till'd, 591 For him their vintage Crete and Scios yield. The numerous ships the shaded ocean hide, Loud groans, beneath the w eight, the burthen'd tide. The vessels thus their watchful post maintain, 595 And guard from Saracens the midland main. Beside the ships, with ready numbers mann'd, From wealthy Venice and Liguria'» strand, England and Holland send a naval pow'r. And fertile Sicily and Gallia's shore. 600 These, all united, brought from every coast Provisions needful for the landed host ; >^Tiile on their march impatient they proceed, (Frtim all defence the hostile frontiers freed,) And urge their haste the hailcn'd soil to gain 605 Where Christ eudurd the stings of mortal pain. But Fame with winged speed before 'em flies (Alike the messenger of truth and lies :) She paints the camp in one united band. Beneath one leader, moving o'er the land, By none oppos'd : their nations, numbers, telU ; The name and actions of each chief reveals; Displays their purpose, set? the war to view. And terrifies with doubts th' usurping crew. More dreadtul to their anxious mind appears 615 The distant pmspect, and augments their fears : To every light report their ears they bend, V> atch every rumour, every tale attend; From man to man the murmurs, swelling still. The country round and mournful city till. 620 Their aged monarch, thus with danger prest. Revolves dire fancies in his doubtful breast : His name was Aladine; who scarce maintain'd, With fears beset, his seat so lately f ain'd : B. I. JERUSALEM DELIVERED. €1 By nature stil! to cruel deeds inclin'd, 625 Though years had sometime cbang'd his savase mind. When now he saw the Latian troops prepare Against iiis city walls to turn the war, Suspicions, join'd with former fears, arose ; Alike he fear'd his subjects and his foes ; 6.^0 Together in one town he saw reside Two people, whom their diBFerent faith? divide. While part the purer laws of Christ believe. More numerous those who INIacon's laws receive. When first the monarch conquer'd Sion's town, 635 And sought securely there to fix his throne ; He freed his Pagans from the tax of state. But on the Christians laid the heavier weight. These thoughts inflam'd and rouz'd his native rage, (Now chill'd and tardy with the frost of age :)_ 640 So turns in summer's heat the venom'd snake. That slept the winter harmless in the brake : So the tame lion, urg'd to wrath again. Resumes his fury, and erects his mane. Then to himself: On every face I view 645 The m?.rks of joy in that perfidious crew: In general grief their jovial days they keep. And laugh and revel when the public weep : E'en now, perhaps, the dreadful scheme is plann'd Against our life to lift a murderous hand; 650 Or to their monarch's foes betray the state. And to their Christian friends unbar the gate. But soon our justice will their crimes prevent. And swift wing'd vengeance on their heads be sent ; Example dreadful I death shall seize on all: 655 Their infants at their mothers' breast shall fall: The flames shall o'er their domes and temples spread. Such be the funeral piles to grace their dead I But midst their votive gifts, to sate our ire. The priests shall first upon the tomb expire. 660 So threats the tyrant ; but his threats are vain ; Though pity moves not, coward fears restrain : Rage prompts his soul their guiltless blood to spill. But trembling doubts oppose his savage will. 62 JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. 1. He fears the Christians, shrinks at future harms, ]Nor dares provoke too far the victor's arms- ; cr.ft This purpose curbed, to other parts he turns The ra^e that in his restless bosom bums : With fire he wastes the fertile country round, -4nd lays the houses level with tht ground : r, ; He leaves no place entire, that may receive The Christian army, cr their march relieve ; Pollute» the springs and rivers in their beds, And poison in the wholesome water sheds ; Cautious with cruelty ! meantime his care 675 Had reinforced Jerusalem for war. Three parts for sieg^e were strongly fortifj'd. Though less securely fenc'd the northern side. But there, when first the threaten'd stoim was heard. New ramparts, for defence, in haste he rear'd ; r,St» Collecting in the town, from different lands, Av.xiliar force* to his subject bant".». SECOND BOOK JERUSALEM DELIVERED. THE ARGUJIENT. ALADISE transports an image of the Virgin Jrom the temple oj the Christians, ijito the mosque, fry the advice of Is me no, icho proposes therebij to form a spell to secure the citt/. In the night the image is secreti}/ stolen away. The king, unable to discover the author oJ' the theft, and incensed against the Christians, prepares for a general massacie. Sophronia. a Christian virgin, accuses herself to the kiiig. Olindo, her lover, takes the fact upon himself. Aladine, in a rage, orders both to be burned. Cloiinda arrives, intercedes for them, and ob' tains their pardon. In the mean time God- frey, u-ith his army, reaches Emmaus. He receives Argantes and Alethes, ambassadors from Egypt. The latter, in an artful speech, endeavours to dissuade Godfrey from attack- ing Jerusalem. His proposals art rejected, and Argantes declares liar iii the name of the king of Egypt. THK SECOND BOOK OF JERUSALEM DELIVERED. VV HILE thus the Pagan king prepar'd for figbt, The fatn'd Israeno came before his sight ; Ismeuo, he whose power the tomb invades:. And c;iU< again to life departed shades : Wliose magic verse can pierce tlie world beneath, .'* And stallie Pluto in the realms of dealJi ; The subject demons at his wiU restrain. And faster bind or loose tlieir servile chain. Ismeno once the Christian faith avow'd. But now at Macon'? impious worship bow'd : |i» Yet still his former rites the wretch retaiu"d, And oft, with Pagan raix'd, their use profan'd. Now from the caverns, where, retir'd alone From vulgar eyes, be studied arts unknown, He came assistance to his lord to bring : I :: An ill adviser to a tyrant king ! Then thus he spoke: O king! behold at hand That con(iuering host, the terror of the land! But let us act as fits the noble mind : The bold from earth and heaven will succour find. As king and leader well thy cares pres'de, 2 1 And with foreseeing thought for all provide. If all, like thee, their several parts dispose. This land will prove the burial of thy foes. Lo ! here I come with thee the toils to bear, .' 5 1" assist thy labours, and thy danger share. 66 JERUSALEM DELIVERED. B. II. Accept the counsel cautious years impart. And join to this the powers of magic heart : Those angels, exil'd from th' ethereal plains, Mj potent charms shall force to share our pains. 30 Attend the scheme, revolving in my breast, The first enchantment that m; thoughts suggest. An altar by the Christians stands immur'd Deep under ground, from vulgar eyes secur'd : The statue of their goddess there is show'd, 3 j The mother of their human, burie