Читать книгу 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 - Страница 52

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,

That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."

A little space we were remov'd from thence,

When I perceiv'd the mountain hollow'd out.

Ev'n as large valleys hollow'd out on earth,

"That way," the' escorting spirit cried, "we go,

Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:

And thou await renewal of the day."

Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path

Led us traverse into the ridge's side,

Where more than half the sloping edge expires.

Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin'd,

And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood

Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds

But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers

Plac'd in that fair recess, in color all

Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less.

Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues,

But of the sweetness of a thousand smells

A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.

"Salve Regina," on the grass and flowers

Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit

Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

"Before the west'ring sun sink to his bed,"

Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd,

"'Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.

For from this eminence ye shall discern

Better the acts and visages of all,

Than in the nether vale among them mix'd.

He, who sits high above the rest, and seems

To have neglected that he should have done,

And to the others' song moves not his lip,

The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd

The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

So that by others she revives but slowly,

He, who with kindly visage comforts him,

Sway'd in that country, where the water springs,

That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe

Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:

Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth

Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,

Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease.

And that one with the nose depress, who close

In counsel seems with him of gentle look,

Flying expir'd, with'ring the lily's flower.

Look there how he doth knock against his breast!

The other ye behold, who for his cheek

Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.

They are the father and the father-in-law

Of Gallia's bane: his vicious life they know

And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.

"He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps

In song, with him of feature prominent,

With ev'ry virtue bore his girdle brac'd.

And if that stripling who behinds him sits,

King after him had liv'd, his virtue then

From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd;

Which may not of the other heirs be said.

By James and Frederick his realms are held;

Neither the better heritage obtains.

Rarely into the branches of the tree

Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains

He who bestows it, that as his free gift

It may be call'd. To Charles my words apply

No less than to his brother in the song;

Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess.

So much that plant degenerates from its seed,

As more than Beatrice and Margaret

Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse.

"Behold the king of simple life and plain,

Harry of England, sitting there alone:

He through his branches better issue spreads.

"That one, who on the ground beneath the rest

Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,

Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause

The deed of Alexandria and his war

Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep."