THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante Alighieri. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Dante Alighieri
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manifest to all!

       Such as may strike thy successor with dread!

       For that thy sire and thou have suffer'd thus,

       Through greediness of yonder realms detain'd,

       The garden of the empire to run waste.

       Come see the Capulets and Montagues,

       The Philippeschi and Monaldi! man

       Who car'st for nought! those sunk in grief, and these

       With dire suspicion rack'd. Come, cruel one!

       Come and behold the' oppression of the nobles,

       And mark their injuries: and thou mayst see.

       What safety Santafiore can supply.

       Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee,

       Desolate widow! day and night with moans:

       "My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?"

       Come and behold what love among thy people:

       And if no pity touches thee for us,

       Come and blush for thine own report. For me,

       If it be lawful, O Almighty Power,

       Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified!

       Are thy just eyes turn'd elsewhere? or is this

       A preparation in the wond'rous depth

       Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,

       Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?

       So are the' Italian cities all o'erthrong'd

       With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made

       Of every petty factious villager.

       My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmov'd

       At this digression, which affects not thee:

       Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed.

       Many have justice in their heart, that long

       Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow,

       Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine

       Have it on their lip's edge. Many refuse

       To bear the common burdens: readier thine

       Answer uneall'd, and cry, "Behold I stoop!"

       Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now,

       Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom-fraught!

       Facts best witness if I speak the truth.

       Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old

       Enacted laws, for civil arts renown'd,

       Made little progress in improving life

       Tow'rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety,

       That to the middle of November scarce

       Reaches the thread thou in October weav'st.

       How many times, within thy memory,

       Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices

       Have been by thee renew'd, and people chang'd!

       If thou remember'st well and can'st see clear,

       Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch,

       Who finds no rest upon her down, but oft

       Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain.

       After their courteous greetings joyfully

       Sev'n times exchang'd, Sordello backward drew

       Exclaiming, "Who are ye?" "Before this mount

       By spirits worthy of ascent to God

       Was sought, my bones had by Octavius' care

       Been buried. I am Virgil, for no sin

       Depriv'd of heav'n, except for lack of faith."

       So answer'd him in few my gentle guide.

       As one, who aught before him suddenly

       Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries

       "It is yet is not," wav'ring in belief;

       Such he appear'd; then downward bent his eyes,

       And drawing near with reverential step,

       Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp

       His lord. "Glory of Latium!" he exclaim'd,

       "In whom our tongue its utmost power display'd!

       Boast of my honor'd birth-place! what desert

       Of mine, what favour rather undeserv'd,

       Shows thee to me? If I to hear that voice

       Am worthy, say if from below thou com'st

       And from what cloister's pale?"—"Through every orb

       Of that sad region," he reply'd, "thus far

       Am I arriv'd, by heav'nly influence led

       And with such aid I come. There is a place

       There underneath, not made by torments sad,

       But by dun shades alone; where mourning's voice

       Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs."

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       There I with little innocents abide,

       Who by death's fangs were bitten, ere exempt

       From human taint. There I with those abide,

       Who the three holy virtues put not on,

       But understood the rest, and without blame

       Follow'd them all. But if thou know'st and canst,

       Direct us, how we soonest may arrive,

       Where Purgatory its true beginning takes."

       He answer'd thus: "We have no certain place

       Assign'd us: upwards I may go or round,

       Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide.

       But thou beholdest now how day declines:

       And upwards to proceed by night, our power

       Excels: therefore it may be well to choose

       A place of pleasant sojourn. To the right

       Some spirits sit apart retir'd. If thou

       Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps:

       And thou wilt know them, not without delight."

       "How chances this?" was answer'd; "who so wish'd

       To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr'd

       By other, or through his own weakness fail?"

       The good Sordello then, along the ground

       Trailing his finger, spoke: "Only this line

       Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun

       Hath disappear'd; not that aught else impedes

       Thy going upwards, save the shades of night.

       These with the wont of power perplex the will.

       With them thou haply mightst return beneath,

       Or to and fro around the mountain's side

       Wander, while day is in the horizon shut."

       My master straight, as wond'ring at his speech,

       Exclaim'd: "Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst,