Читать книгу Borgia - Michael Field E. - Страница 47

As spring’s

Sky-blue. Lord Bonafede, you that savour

The taste of steel, run with your finger down

These grooves: now see the contour and the curves,

The equilibrium, so beautiful

I worship it with reverence. Now bend

Above the glass, like adamant, and trace

My hero in his deeds.

Here is a mighty deed,

And one that was of doom. This floating ensign,

These naked horsemen at the riverside,

The child, with wreath of laurel, by the flood

Playing his flute to outset of a life....

For this is Cesar crossing Rubicon.

Here are his very words: “The die is cast.” ...

Enter Monsignore Gaspare Poto.