Michael Angelo. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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СКАЧАТЬ ANGELO, at the door.

       How like a Saint or Goddess she appears;

       Diana or Madonna, which I know not!

       In attitude and aspect formed to be

       At once the artist's worship and despair!

      VITTORIA.

       Welcome, Maestro. We were waiting for you.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       I met your messenger upon the way,

       And hastened hither.

      VITTORIA.

       It is kind of you

       To come to us, who linger here like gossips

       Wasting the afternoon in idle talk.

       These are all friends of mine and friends of yours.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       If friends of yours, then are they friends of mine.

       Pardon me, gentlemen. But when I entered

       I saw but the Marchesa.

      VITTORIA.

       Take this seat

       Between me and Ser Claudio Tolommei,

       Who still maintains that our Italian tongue

       Should be called Tuscan. But for that offence

       We will not quarrel with him.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       Eccellenza--

      VITTORIA.

       Ser Claudio has banished Eccellenza

       And all such titles from the Tuscan tongue.

      MESSER CLAUDIO.

       'T is the abuse of them and not the use

       I deprecate.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       The use or the abuse

       It matters not. Let them all go together,

       As empty phrases and frivolities,

       And common as gold-lace upon the collar

       Of an obsequious lackey.

      VITTORIA.

       That may be,

       But something of politeness would go with them;

       We should lose something of the stately manners

       Of the old school.

      MESSER CLAUDIO.

       Undoubtedly.

      VITTORlA.

       But that

       Is not what occupies my thoughts at present,

       Nor why I sent for you, Messer Michele.

       It was to counsel me. His Holiness

       Has granted me permission, long desired,

       To build a convent in this neighborhood,

       Where the old tower is standing, from whose top

       Nero looked down upon the burning city.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       It is an inspiration!

      VITTORIA.

       I am doubtful

       How I shall build; how large to make the convent,

       And which way fronting.

      MICHAEL ANGELO.

       Ah, to build, to build!

       That is the noblest art of all the arts.

       Painting and sculpture are but images,

       Are merely shadows cast by outward things

       On stone or canvas, having in themselves

       No separate existence. Architecture,

       Existing in itself, and not in seeming

       A something it is not, surpasses them

       As substance shadow. Long, long years ago,

       Standing one morning near the Baths of Titus,

       I saw the statue of Laocoon

       Rise from its grave of centuries, like a ghost

       Writhing in pain; and as it tore away

       The knotted serpents from its limbs, I heard,

       Or seemed to hear, the cry of agony

       From its white, parted lips. And still I marvel

       At the three Rhodian artists, by whose hands

       This miracle was wrought. Yet he beholds

       Far nobler works who looks upon the ruins

       Of temples in the Forum here in Rome.

       If God should give me power in my old age

       To build for Him a temple half as grand

       As those were in their glory, I should count

       My age more excellent than youth itself,

       And all that I have hitherto accomplished

       As only vanity.

      VITTORIA.

       I understand you.

       Art is the gift of God, and must be used

       Unto His glory. That in art is highest

       Which aims at this. When St. Hilarion blessed

       The horses of Italicus, they won

       The race at Gaza, for his benediction

       O'erpowered all magic; and the people shouted

       That Christ had conquered Marnas. So that art

       Which bears the consecration and the seal

       Of holiness upon it will prevail

       Over all others. Those few words of yours

       СКАЧАТЬ