THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante Alighieri
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СКАЧАТЬ Polenta's eagle broods,

       And in his broad circumference of plume

       O'ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp

       The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,

       And pil'd in bloody heap the host of France.

       "The' old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,

       That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,

       Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs.

       "Lamone's city and Santerno's range

       Under the lion of the snowy lair.

       Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,

       Or ever summer yields to winter's frost.

       And she, whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave,

       As 'twixt the level and the steep she lies,

       Lives so 'twixt tyrant power and liberty.

       "Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?

       Be not more hard than others. In the world,

       So may thy name still rear its forehead high."

       Then roar'd awhile the fire, its sharpen'd point

       On either side wav'd, and thus breath'd at last:

       "If I did think, my answer were to one,

       Who ever could return unto the world,

       This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne'er,

       If true be told me, any from this depth

       Has found his upward way, I answer thee,

       Nor fear lest infamy record the words.

       "A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then

       In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so

       T' have made amends. And certainly my hope

       Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on,

       The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin.

       And how and wherefore listen while I tell.

       Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulp

       My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake

       The nature of the lion than the fox.

       All ways of winding subtlety I knew,

       And with such art conducted, that the sound

       Reach'd the world's limit. Soon as to that part

       Of life I found me come, when each behoves

       To lower sails and gather in the lines;

       That which before had pleased me then I rued,

       And to repentance and confession turn'd;

       Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!

       The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,

       Waging his warfare near the Lateran,

       Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes

       All Christians were, nor against Acre one

       Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land),

       He his great charge nor sacred ministry

       In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord,

       Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded.

       As in Socrate, Constantine besought

       To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid,

       So me to cure the fever of his pride

       This man besought: my counsel to that end

       He ask'd: and I was silent: for his words

       Seem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd:

       "From thy heart banish fear: of all offence

       I hitherto absolve thee. In return,

       Teach me my purpose so to execute,

       That Penestrino cumber earth no more.

       Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut

       And open: and the keys are therefore twain,

       The which my predecessor meanly priz'd."

       Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,

       Of silence as more perilous I deem'd,

       And answer'd: "Father! since thou washest me

       Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,

       Large promise with performance scant, be sure,

       Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat."

       "When I was number'd with the dead, then came

       Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark

       He met, who cried: "'Wrong me not; he is mine,

       And must below to join the wretched crew,

       For the deceitful counsel which he gave.

       E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair,

       No power can the impenitent absolve;

       Nor to repent and will at once consist,

       By contradiction absolute forbid."

       Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he

       Seiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me not

       A disputant in logic so exact."

       To Minos down he bore me, and the judge

       Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail,

       Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:

       'This is a guilty soul, that in the fire

       Must vanish.' Hence perdition-doom'd I rove

       A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb."

       When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame

       In dolour parted, beating to and fro,

       And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went,

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