THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante Alighieri
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СКАЧАТЬ Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb,

       Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides,

       Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn'd

       They dwell, and in what province of the deep."

       "These," said my guide, "with Persius and myself,

       And others many more, are with that Greek,

       Of mortals, the most cherish'd by the Nine,

       In the first ward of darkness. There ofttimes

       We of that mount hold converse, on whose top

       For aye our nurses live. We have the bard

       Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho,

       Simonides, and many a Grecian else

       Ingarlanded with laurel. Of thy train

       Antigone is there, Deiphile,

       Argia, and as sorrowful as erst

       Ismene, and who show'd Langia's wave:

       Deidamia with her sisters there,

       And blind Tiresias' daughter, and the bride

       Sea-born of Peleus." Either poet now

       Was silent, and no longer by th' ascent

       Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast

       Inquiring eyes. Four handmaids of the day

       Had finish'd now their office, and the fifth

       Was at the chariot-beam, directing still

       Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide:

       "Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink

       Bend the right shoulder' circuiting the mount,

       As we have ever us'd." So custom there

       Was usher to the road, the which we chose

       Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied.

       They on before me went; I sole pursued,

       List'ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey'd

       Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy.

       But soon they ceas'd; for midway of the road

       A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung,

       And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir

       Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads,

       So downward this less ample spread, that none.

       Methinks, aloft may climb. Upon the side,

       That clos'd our path, a liquid crystal fell

       From the steep rock, and through the sprays above

       Stream'd showering. With associate step the bards

       Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves

       A voice was heard: "Ye shall be chary of me;"

       And after added: "Mary took more thought

       For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,

       Than for herself who answers now for you.

       The women of old Rome were satisfied

       With water for their beverage. Daniel fed

       On pulse, and wisdom gain'd. The primal age

       Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then

       Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet

       Run nectar. Honey and locusts were the food,

       Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness

       Fed, and that eminence of glory reach'd

       And greatness, which the' Evangelist records."

       On the green leaf mine eyes were fix'd, like his

       Who throws away his days in idle chase

       Of the diminutive, when thus I heard

       The more than father warn me: "Son! our time

       Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away."

       Thereat my face and steps at once I turn'd

       Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer'd

       I journey'd on, and felt no toil: and lo!

       A sound of weeping and a song: "My lips,

       O Lord!" and these so mingled, it gave birth

       To pleasure and to pain. "O Sire, belov'd!

       Say what is this I hear?" Thus I inquir'd.

       "Spirits," said he, "who as they go, perchance,

       Their debt of duty pay." As on their road

       The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some

       Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,

       But stay not; thus, approaching from behind

       With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass'd,

       A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.

       The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale

       Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones

       Stood staring thro' the skin. I do not think

       Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show'd,

       When pinc'ed by sharp-set famine to the quick.

       "Lo!" to myself I mus'd, "the race, who lost

       Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak

       Prey'd on her child." The sockets seem'd as rings,

       From which the gems were drops. Who reads the name

       Of man upon his forehead, there the M

       Had trac'd most plainly. Who would deem, that scent

       Of water and an apple, could have prov'd

       Powerful to generate such pining want,

       Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood

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