Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection. Джон Мильтон
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Название: Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection

Автор: Джон Мильтон

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 4064066499129

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ art will make it sad.

       And were it not that on the pass of Arno

       Some glimpses of him are remaining still,

      Those citizens, who afterwards rebuilt it

       Upon the ashes left by Attila,

       In vain had caused their labour to be done.

      Of my own house I made myself a gibbet."

      Canto XIV. The Sand Waste and the Rain of Fire. The Violent against God. Capaneus. The Statue of Time, and the Four Infernal Rivers.

       Table of Contents

      Because the charity of my native place

       Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves,

       And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse.

      Then came we to the confine, where disparted

       The second round is from the third, and where

       A horrible form of Justice is beheld.

      Clearly to manifest these novel things,

       I say that we arrived upon a plain,

       Which from its bed rejecteth every plant;

      The dolorous forest is a garland to it

       All round about, as the sad moat to that;

       There close upon the edge we stayed our feet.

      The soil was of an arid and thick sand,

       Not of another fashion made than that

       Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed.

      Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou

       By each one to be dreaded, who doth read

       That which was manifest unto mine eyes!

      Of naked souls beheld I many herds,

       Who all were weeping very miserably,

       And over them seemed set a law diverse.

      Supine upon the ground some folk were lying;

       And some were sitting all drawn up together,

       And others went about continually.

      Those who were going round were far the more,

       And those were less who lay down to their torment,

       But had their tongues more loosed to lamentation.

      O'er all the sand-waste, with a gradual fall,

       Were raining down dilated flakes of fire,

       As of the snow on Alp without a wind.

      As Alexander, in those torrid parts

       Of India, beheld upon his host

       Flames fall unbroken till they reached the ground.

      Whence he provided with his phalanxes

       To trample down the soil, because the vapour

       Better extinguished was while it was single;

      Thus was descending the eternal heat,

       Whereby the sand was set on fire, like tinder

       Beneath the steel, for doubling of the dole.

      Without repose forever was the dance

       Of miserable hands, now there, now here,

       Shaking away from off them the fresh gleeds.

      "Master," began I, "thou who overcomest

       All things except the demons dire, that issued

       Against us at the entrance of the gate,

      Who is that mighty one who seems to heed not

       The fire, and lieth lowering and disdainful,

       So that the rain seems not to ripen him?"

      And he himself, who had become aware

       That I was questioning my Guide about him,

       Cried: "Such as I was living, am I, dead.

      If Jove should weary out his smith, from whom

       He seized in anger the sharp thunderbolt,

       Wherewith upon the last day I was smitten,

      And if he wearied out by turns the others

       In Mongibello at the swarthy forge,

       Vociferating, 'Help, good Vulcan, help!'

      Even as he did there at the fight of Phlegra,

       And shot his bolts at me with all his might,

       He would not have thereby a joyous vengeance."

      Then did my Leader speak with such great force,

       That I had never heard him speak so loud:

       "O Capaneus, in that is not extinguished

      Thine arrogance, thou punished art the more;

       Not any torment, saving thine own rage,

       Would be unto thy fury pain complete."

      Then he turned round to me with better lip,

       Saying: "One of the Seven Kings was he

       Who Thebes besieged, and held, and seems to hold

      God in disdain, and little seems to prize him;

       But, as I said to him, his own despites

       Are for his breast the fittest ornaments.

      Now follow me, and mind thou do not place

       As yet thy feet upon the burning sand,

       But always keep them close unto the wood."

      Speaking no word, we came to where there gushes

       Forth from the wood a little rivulet,

       Whose redness makes my hair still stand on end.

      As from the Bulicame springs the brooklet,

       The sinful women later СКАЧАТЬ