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СКАЧАТЬ And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp

       Spurn'd Heliodorus. All the mountain round

       Rings with the infamy of Thracia's king,

       Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout

       Ascends: "Declare, O Crassus! for thou know'st,

       The flavour of thy gold." The voice of each

       Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,

       Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave.

       Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears'd

       That blessedness we tell of in the day:

       But near me none beside his accent rais'd."

       From him we now had parted, and essay'd

       With utmost efforts to surmount the way,

       When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,

       The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill

       Seiz'd on me, as on one to death convey'd.

       So shook not Delos, when Latona there

       Couch'd to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven.

       Forthwith from every side a shout arose

       So vehement, that suddenly my guide

       Drew near, and cried: "Doubt not, while I conduct thee."

       "Glory!" all shouted (such the sounds mine ear

       Gather'd from those, who near me swell'd the sounds)

       "Glory in the highest be to God." We stood

       Immovably suspended, like to those,

       The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem's field

       That song: till ceas'd the trembling, and the song

       Was ended: then our hallow'd path resum'd,

       Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew'd

       Their custom'd mourning. Never in my breast

       Did ignorance so struggle with desire

       Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,

       As in that moment; nor through haste dar'd I

       To question, nor myself could aught discern,

       So on I far'd in thoughtfulness and dread.

       The natural thirst, ne'er quench'd but from the well,

       Whereof the woman of Samaria crav'd,

       Excited: haste along the cumber'd path,

       After my guide, impell'd; and pity mov'd

       My bosom for the 'vengeful deed, though just.

       When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ

       Appear'd unto the two upon their way,

       New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us

       A shade appear'd, and after us approach'd,

       Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet.

       We were not ware of it; so first it spake,

       Saying, "God give you peace, my brethren!" then

       Sudden we turn'd: and Virgil such salute,

       As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried:

       "Peace in the blessed council be thy lot

       Awarded by that righteous court, which me

       To everlasting banishment exiles!"

       "How!" he exclaim'd, nor from his speed meanwhile

       Desisting, "If that ye be spirits, whom God

       Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height

       Has been thus far your guide?" To whom the bard:

       "If thou observe the tokens, which this man

       Trac'd by the finger of the angel bears,

       'Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just

       He needs must share. But sithence she, whose wheel

       Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn

       That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil'd,

       Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes,

       His soul, that sister is to mine and thine,

       Not of herself could mount, for not like ours

       Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf

       Of hell was ta'en, to lead him, and will lead

       Far as my lore avails. But, if thou know,

       Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile

       Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once

       Seem'd shouting, even from his wave-wash'd foot."

       That questioning so tallied with my wish,

       The thirst did feel abatement of its edge

       E'en from expectance. He forthwith replied,

       "In its devotion nought irregular

       This mount can witness, or by punctual rule

       Unsanction'd; here from every change exempt.

       Other than that, which heaven in itself

       Doth of itself receive, no influence

       Can reach us. Tempest none, shower, hail or snow,

       Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls

       Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds

       Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance

       Ne'er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams,

       That yonder often shift on each side heav'n.

       Vapour adust doth never mount above

       The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon

       Peter's vicegerent stands. Lower perchance,

СКАЧАТЬ