mercredi 25 mars 2009

The Combat of Tancredi and Clorinda

Source of the translation


Narrator:

Over the hills the maiden made her way
To find the safety of the town
He thought she was a man of great might
And her defeat would bring him honour

Orchestra: theme of the horse

The knight pursued her with a great noise
She heard him and stopped and said

Clorinda:

Why in such a hurry? It is better to ride quietly and easily. What are you carrying?
Narrator:
He answered

Tancredi:

War and death

Clorinda:

And war and death

Narrator:

She said

Clorinda:

Is what you will get from me
If you are looking for a fight

Narrator:

With that she stood fast
Tancredi quickly jumped from his horse
And on foot he met the maid
Their courage was hot, and both were in a fury
Both champions drew a sharp blade
Ran towards each other and began to strike
Like two fierce bulls provoked by rage, or love
The fight was wondrous to behold
Though hid in the bosom of the darkest night
The contest was worthy of royal lists and the brightest day
Worthy of a golden trumpet and a laurel crown

Orchestra: symphony

Oh Night! - let me their acts display
And make their deeds to future ages known
And in records of long enduring story
Let me enrol their praise, their fame, their worth, their glory

Orchestra: beginning of the battle

Neither shrunk back nor sought for better ground with fancy footwork
They both stood still, each rooted to the spot
Their blows were neither false nor feigned
The night and their rage would not let them fight with art
Their swords clash together with a dreadful sound
As steady as great trees they stand and neither stir nor start
They move their hands but steadfast their feet remain
Nor blow nor thrust they stroked in vain
Shame bred a desire for sharp revenge
And vengeance taken gave a new cause for shame
So that with more fury than skill they fought
They had enough fuel to feed the flame
At last, the battle was so fierce and even
They could not wield their swords, so fought up close
The clashed and swung their sword hilts
And helmet to helmet and shield to shield they crushed
Three times his strong arms he folds around her waist
Three times he was forced to let the maiden go
For she disdained to be embraced
No lover would have squeezed his mistress so
They took their swords again and each
Put deep wounds in the soft flesh of the strong foe
Until weak, weary, faint, barely alive
They both stepped back and gasped for breath
They look long at each other and stand resting on their swords
With sword points driven in the earth
When day break rising with a sudden light
Put out the eyes of blindfold night
Tancredi beheld the streaming blood of his foe
And the gaping wounds and waxed proud at the sight
O vanity of man’s unstable mind
Puffed up with every blast of friendly wind
Why do you celebrate? What shall be your gain?
What trophy do you want for this conquest?
Even if you live, your eyes will shed
For every drop of blood a sea of tears
The bleeding warriors remained leaning
The stood in silence, neither spoke a word
At last Tancredi broke the silence and said
(For he wanted to know with whom he fought)

Tancredi:

What bad luck we have, what bad fortune
Who in silence and in darkness clash
When the sun’s light and our comrades’ gaze
Should witness our prowess and our fame
If there is a place for words in war, grant me this
Tell me your name, your country and your estate
That I may know when the fight is over
Whom I have conquered, or who has conquered me

Narrator:

She replied

Clorinda:

You ask in vain, I am not telling
You can pray all you like, or try to use your might
But I will tell you this
I am one of those brave heroes
Who destroyed your tower with fire

Narrator:

Tancredi swelled with disdain at her proud words

Tancredi:

Everything you have said
Your boasting speech and your sullen silence
Has fuelled the anger in my breast

Orchestra: battle

Narrator:

Their anger redoubled they renewed the fray
Though their bodies were feeble the fight was fierce
Their strength and skill were gone
And fury alone kept them fighting
Their swords were bathed all over
In purple blood whenever they hit
And if their hearts were still beating
They only lived because they both disdained to die
But alas, now is the fatal hour
That her sweet life must leave her breast
He drives his sword deep into her chest
And bathed his sword in lukewarm blood
Between her breasts the cruel weapon cleaves
Her breastplate embossed with swelling gold
Her knees grow weak, the pains of death she
Feels, and like a falling Cedar bends and reels
The Prince stretched his hand upon her shield
And laid the wounded damsel on the earth
And as she fell, in a weak and woeful voice
Her last prayers and final words she said
Those prayers taught her a new spirit
One of hope, of charity and faith
And though her life was rebellious to Christ
Yet she died his child and handmaid dear

Clorinda:

Friend, you have won, but I forgive you, don’t save
This body that all torments can endure
But save my soul and baptise me before I die
Come wash away my sins with pure water

Narrator:

His relenting heart nearly broke apart
When he heard the sad words of that sweet creature
So that his rage, his wrath and his anger died
And salt tears of pity ran down his cheeks
A loud murmur was heard from the mountainside
And a little stream tumbled near the place
He ran to it and filled his helmet
And quickly returned to do the work of grace
With trembling hands her faceguard he undid
Which done he saw, and seeing, knew her face
And was speechless
O woeful knowledge, oh unhappy sight!
He did not die but gathered his last strength
And held in check the feelings in his heart
Torn with grief, with water he restores eternally
The life he took away with hard iron
And while the sacred words the knight recites
The maiden joyfully prepared for heaven
And as her life decays, her joys increase
She smiled and said

Clorinda:

Farewell, I die in peace.

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