The Divine Comedy: Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso (3 Classic Unabridged Translations in one eBook: Cary's + Longfellow's + Norton's Translation + Original Illustrations by Gustave Doré). Dante Alighieri. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Dante Alighieri
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The many, that possess it, makes more rich,

       Than if 't were shar'd by few?" He answering thus:

       "Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth,

       Strikes darkness from true light. The highest good

       Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed

       To love, as beam to lucid body darts,

       Giving as much of ardour as it finds.

       The sempiternal effluence streams abroad

       Spreading, wherever charity extends.

       So that the more aspirants to that bliss

       Are multiplied, more good is there to love,

       And more is lov'd; as mirrors, that reflect,

       Each unto other, propagated light.

       If these my words avail not to allay

       Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see,

       Who of this want, and of all else thou hast,

       Shall rid thee to the full. Provide but thou

       That from thy temples may be soon eras'd,

       E'en as the two already, those five scars,

       That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,"

       "Thou," I had said, "content'st me," when I saw

       The other round was gain'd, and wond'ring eyes

       Did keep me mute. There suddenly I seem'd

       By an ecstatic vision wrapt away;

       And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd

       Of many persons; and at th' entrance stood

       A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express

       A mother's love, who said, "Child! why hast thou

       Dealt with us thus? Behold thy sire and I

       Sorrowing have sought thee;" and so held her peace,

       And straight the vision fled. A female next

       Appear'd before me, down whose visage cours'd

       Those waters, that grief forces out from one

       By deep resentment stung, who seem'd to say:

       "If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed

       Over this city, nam'd with such debate

       Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles,

       Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace

       Hath clasp'd our daughter; "and to fuel, meseem'd,

       Benign and meek, with visage undisturb'd,

       Her sovran spake: "How shall we those requite,

       Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn

       The man that loves us?" After that I saw

       A multitude, in fury burning, slay

       With stones a stripling youth, and shout amain

       "Destroy, destroy!" and him I saw, who bow'd

       Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made

       His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to heav'n,

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       Praying forgiveness of th' Almighty Sire,

       Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes,

       With looks, that With compassion to their aim.

       Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight

       Returning, sought again the things, whose truth

       Depends not on her shaping, I observ'd

       How she had rov'd to no unreal scenes

       Meanwhile the leader, who might see I mov'd,

       As one, who struggles to shake off his sleep,

       Exclaim'd: "What ails thee, that thou canst not hold

       Thy footing firm, but more than half a league

       Hast travel'd with clos'd eyes and tott'ring gait,

       Like to a man by wine or sleep o'ercharg'd?"

       "Beloved father! so thou deign," said I,

       "To listen, I will tell thee what appear'd

       Before me, when so fail'd my sinking steps."

       He thus: "Not if thy Countenance were mask'd

       With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine

       How small soe'er, elude me. What thou saw'st

       Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart

       To the waters of peace, that flow diffus'd

       From their eternal fountain. I not ask'd,

       What ails thee? for such cause as he doth, who

       Looks only with that eye which sees no more,

       When spiritless the body lies; but ask'd,

       To give fresh vigour to thy foot. Such goads

       The slow and loit'ring need; that they be found

       Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns."

       So on we journey'd through the evening sky

       Gazing intent, far onward, as our eyes

       With level view could stretch against the bright

       Vespertine ray: and lo! by slow degrees

       Gath'ring, a fog made tow'rds us, dark as night.

       There was no room for 'scaping; and that mist

       Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air.

       Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark,

       Of every planes 'reft, and pall'd in clouds,

       Did never spread before the sight a veil

       In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense

       So palpable and gross. Ent'ring its shade,

       Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids;

       Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide,

       Offering me his shoulder for a stay.

       As the blind man behind his leader walks,

       Lest he should err, or stumble unawares

       On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy,

       I journey'd through that bitter air and foul,

       Still list'ning to my escort's warning voice,

       "Look that from me thou part not." Straight I heard

       Voices, and each one seem'd to pray for peace,

       And for compassion, to the Lamb of God

       That taketh sins away. Their prelude still

       Was "Agnus Dei," and through all the choir,

       One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem'd

       The concord of their song. "Are these I hear

       Spirits, O master?" I exclaim'd; and he:

       "Thou aim'st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath."

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