Analysis of Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 04

Torquato Tasso 1544 (Sorrento) – 1595 (Rome)



'Three times the shape of my dear mother came,
Pale, sad, dismayed, to warn me in my,
Alas, how far from the same
Whose eyes shone erst like Titan's glorious beam:
`Daughter,' she says, `fly, fly, behold thy dame
Foreshows the treasons of thy wretched eame,
Who poison gainst thy harmless life provides:'
This said, to shapeless air unseen she glides.

'But what avail high walls or bulwarks strong,
Where fainting cowards have the piece to guard?
My sex too weak, mine age was all to young,
To undertake a work so hard,
To wander wild the desert woods among,
A banished maid, of wonted ease debarred,
So grievous seemed, that liefer were my death,
And there to expire where first I drew my breath.

'I deadly evil if long I stayed,
And yet to fly had neither will nor power,
Nor durst my heart declare it waxed afraid,
Lest so I hasten might my dying hour:
Thus restless waited I, maid,
What hand should first pluck up my springing flower,
Even as the wretch condemned to lose his life
Awaits the falling of the murdering knife.

'In these extremes, for so my fortune would
Perchance preserve me to my further ill,
One of my father's servants old,
That for his bore his child will,
With store of tears this treason gan unfold,
And said; my guardian would his pupil kill,
And that, if promise made be kept,
Should give me poison dire ere next I slept.

'And further told me, if I wished to live,
I must convey by secret flight,
And offered then all succours he could give
To aid his mistress, banished from her right.
His words of, to exile drive,
The dread of death, made lesser dangers light:
So we concluded, when the shadows dim
Obscured the earth I should depart with him.

'Of close escapes the aged patroness,
Blacker than erst, her sable mantle spread,
When with two trusty maids, in great distress,
Both from mine uncle and my realm I fled;
Oft looked I back, but hardly could suppress
Those streams of tears, mine eyes uncessant shed,
For when I looked on my kingdom lost,
It was a grief, a death, an hell almost.

'My steeds drew on the burden of my limbs,
But still my locks, my, drew back as fast,
So fare the men, that from the heaven's brims,
Far out to sea, by sudden storm are cast;
Swift o'er the grass the rolling chariot swims,
Through ways unknown, all night, all day we haste,
At last, nigh tired, a castle strong we fand,
The utmost border of my native land.

'The fort Arontes was, for so the knight
Was called, that my deliverance thus had wrought,
But when the tyrant, by mature flight
I had escaped the treasons of his ,
The rage increased in the cursed wight
Gainst me, and him, that me to safety brought,
And us accused, we would have poisoned
Him, but descried, to save our lives we fled.

'And that in lieu of his approved,
To poison him I hired had my guide,
That he despatched, mine unbridled youth
Might rage at will, in no subjection tied,
And that each night I slept - O foul untruth! -
Mine honor lost, by this Arontes' side:
But Heaven I pray send down revenging fire,
When so base love shall change my chaste.

'Not that he sitteth on my regal throne,
Nor that he thirst to drink my lukewarm blood,
So grieveth me, as this despite,
That my renown, which ever blameless stood,
Hath lost the light wherewith it always shone:
With forged lies he makes his tale so,
And holds my subjects' hearts in such suspense,
That none take armor for their queen's defence.

'And though he do my regal throne possess,
Clothed in purple, crowned with burnished gold;
Yet is his , his rancor, ne'er the less,
Since naught assuageth malice when 'tis old:
He threats to burn Arontes' forteress,
And murder him unless he yield the hold,
And me and mine threats not with war, but death,
Thus causeless , endless is uneath.

'And so he trusts to wash away the stain,
And hide his shameful fact with mine offence,
And saith he will restore the throne again
To his late honor and due excellence,
And therefore would I should be algates slain,
For while I live, his right is in suspense,
This is the cause my guiltless life is sought,
For on my ruin is his safety wrought.

'And let the tyrant have his heart's,
Let him perform the cruelty he meant,
My guiltless blood must quench the ceaseless fire
On which my endless tears were bootle


Scheme AXAXAABB XCDCDCEE FGFGFGHH IJKJKJLL MNXNMNOO XPQPQPXX RSBSRTCX NUNXNUXP XVWVWVGT XXNIXXYY QKQKBKEE ZBXXZYUU XXGJ
Poetic Form Etheree  (22%)
Metre 1101111101 110111101 0111101 1111111001 1011110111 10111101 1101110101 1111010111 110111111 1101010111 1111111111 1100111 1101010101 01011111 1101110011 01101111111 110101111 01111101110 1111011101 11110111010 1101011 11111111010 10101011111 01010101001 0101111101 0101111101 11110101 1111111 1111110101 01110011101 01110111 1111011111 0101111111 11011101 010111111 1111010101 111111 0111110101 110101011 0101110111 110101100 1011010101 1111010101 1111001111 1111110101 11111111 111111101 110101111 1111010111 111111111 1101110101 1111110111 110010101001 1101111111 11110010111 011011101 01111101 11110100111 110101011 11010111 01010011 1101111101 010111110 1111110111 01011101 1101110111 11110101 11110111 0111111101 11011111 1101111110 11111111 111111101 1111111111 1111101 1101110101 11011111 11111111 0111010101 1111011101 0111110101 101011101 111110101 11110111 111111 0101011101 0101111111 111011 0111110101 011101111 0111010101 1111001100 01111111 1111111001 1101110111 1111011101 01010111 110101011 11011101010 11110101
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,178
Words 795
Sentences 16
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 4
Lines Amount 100
Letters per line (avg) 33
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 253
Words per stanza (avg) 60
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:00 min read
69

Torquato Tasso

Torquato Tasso was an Italian poet of the 16th century, best known for his poem La Gerusalemme liberata, in which he depicts a highly imaginative version of the combats between Christians and Muslims at the end of the First Crusade, during the siege of Jerusalem. He suffered from mental illness and died a few days before he was due to be crowned as the king of poets by the Pope. Until the beginning of the 20th century, Tasso remained one of the most widely read poets in Europe. more…

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