Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection. Джон Мильтон

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      Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted,

       That, notwithstanding it was made of brass,

       Still it appeared with agony transfixed;

      Thus, by not having any way or issue

       At first from out the fire, to its own language

       Converted were the melancholy words.

      But afterwards, when they had gathered way

       Up through the point, giving it that vibration

       The tongue had given them in their passage out,

      We heard it said: "O thou, at whom I aim

       My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard,

       Saying, 'Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,'

      Because I come perchance a little late,

       To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee;

       Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning.

      If thou but lately into this blind world

       Hast fallen down from that sweet Latian land,

       Wherefrom I bring the whole of my transgression,

      Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war,

       For I was from the mountains there between

       Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts."

      I still was downward bent and listening,

       When my Conductor touched me on the side,

       Saying: "Speak thou: this one a Latian is."

      And I, who had beforehand my reply

       In readiness, forthwith began to speak:

       "O soul, that down below there art concealed,

      Romagna thine is not and never has been

       Without war in the bosom of its tyrants;

       But open war I none have left there now.

      Ravenna stands as it long years has stood;

       The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding,

       So that she covers Cervia with her vans.

      The city which once made the long resistance,

       And of the French a sanguinary heap,

       Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again;

      Verrucchio's ancient Mastiff and the new,

       Who made such bad disposal of Montagna,

       Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth.

      The cities of Lamone and Santerno

       Governs the Lioncel of the white lair,

       Who changes sides 'twixt summer-time and winter;

      And that of which the Savio bathes the flank,

       Even as it lies between the plain and mountain,

       Lives between tyranny and a free state.

      Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art;

       Be not more stubborn than the rest have been,

       So may thy name hold front there in the world."

      After the fire a little more had roared

       In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved

       This way and that, and then gave forth such breath:

      "If I believed that my reply were made

       To one who to the world would e'er return,

       This flame without more flickering would stand still;

      But inasmuch as never from this depth

       Did any one return, if I hear true,

       Without the fear of infamy I answer,

      I was a man of arms, then Cordelier,

       Believing thus begirt to make amends;

       And truly my belief had been fulfilled

      But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide,

       Who put me back into my former sins;

       And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.

      While I was still the form of bone and pulp

       My mother gave to me, the deeds I did

       Were not those of a lion, but a fox.

      The machinations and the covert ways

       I knew them all, and practised so their craft,

       That to the ends of earth the sound went forth.

      When now unto that portion of mine age

       I saw myself arrived, when each one ought

       To lower the sails, and coil away the ropes,

      That which before had pleased me then displeased me;

       And penitent and confessing I surrendered,

       Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me;

      The Leader of the modern Pharisees

       Having a war near unto Lateran,

       And not with Saracens nor with the Jews,

      For each one of his enemies was Christian,

       And none of them had been to conquer Acre,

       Nor merchandising in the Sultan's land,

      Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders,

       In him regarded, nor in me that cord

       Which used to make those girt with it more meagre;

      But even as Constantine sought out Sylvester

       To cure his leprosy, within Soracte,

       So this one sought me out as an adept

      To cure him of the fever of his pride.

       Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent,

       Because his words appeared inebriate.

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