by Torquato Tasso (1544 - 1595)
Translation by Edward Fairfax (1580 - 1635)

Vattene pur, crudel, con quella pace
Language: Italian (Italiano) 
»Vattene pur, crudel, con quella pace
che lasci a me; vattene, iniquo, omai.
Me tosto ignudo spirt'ombra seguace
indivisibilmente a tergo avrai.
Nova furia, co' serpi e con la face
tanto t'agiterò quanto t'amai.
E s'è destin ch'esca del mar, che schivi
li scogli e l'onde e che a la pugna arrivi,

là tra 'l sangue e le morti egro giacente
mi pagherai le pene, empio guerriero.
Per nome Armida chiamerai sovente
ne gli ultimi singulti: udir ciò spero.«
Or qui mancò lo spirto a la dolente,
né quest'ultimo suono espress'intero;
e cadde tramortita e si diffuse
di gelato sudor e i lumi chiuse.

Poi ch'ella in sé tornò, deserto e muto
quanto mirar poté d'intorno scorse.
»Ito se n'è pur« disse »ed ha potuto
me qui lasciar de la mia vita in forse?
Né un momento indugiò, né un breve aiuto
nel caso estremo il traditor mi porse?
Ed io pur anco l'amo, e in questo lido
invendicata ancor piango e m'assido?«

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 163

Go, cruel, go!
Language: English  after the Italian (Italiano) 
Go, cruel, go! go with such peace, such rest,
Such joy, such comfort as thou leav'st me here;
My angry soul, discharg'd from this weak breast,
Shall haunt thee ever and attend thee near, 
And fury-like, in snakes and fire-brands dress'd,
Shall aye torment thee whom it late held dear:
And if thou 'scape the seas, the rocks, and sands,
And come to fight amid the pagan bands, 

There lying wounded 'mongst the hurt and slain,
Of these my wrongs thou shalt the vengeance bear, 

And oft Armida shalt thou call in vain 
At thy last gasp; this hope I soon to hear. 

Here fainted she, with sorrow, grief, and pain,
Her latest words scant well expressed were, 

But in a swoon on earth outstretch'd she lies,
Stiff were her frozen limbs, clos'd were her eyes. 

Wak'd from her trance, forsaken, speeches, sad,
Armida wildly star'd and gaz'd about:-

And is he gone (quoth she), nor pity had, 
To leave me thus 'twixt life and death in doubt?
Could he not stay? could not the traitor bad
From this last trance help or recall me out?
And do I love him still, and on this sand 
Still unreveng'd, still mourn, still weeping stand?

Text Authorship:

Based on:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

    [ None yet in the database ]


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 203