Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection. Джон Мильтон

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      XXIV. Buonagiunta da Lucca. Pope Martin IV, and others. Inquiry into the State of Poetry.

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      Nor speech the going, nor the going that

       Slackened; but talking we went bravely on,

       Even as a vessel urged by a good wind.

      And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead,

       From out the sepulchres of their eyes betrayed

       Wonder at me, aware that I was living.

      And I, continuing my colloquy,

       Said: "Peradventure he goes up more slowly

       Than he would do, for other people's sake.

      But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda;

       Tell me if any one of note I see

       Among this folk that gazes at me so."

      "My sister, who, 'twixt beautiful and good,

       I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing

       Already in her crown on high Olympus."

      So said he first, and then: "'Tis not forbidden

       To name each other here, so milked away

       Is our resemblance by our dieting.

      This," pointing with his finger, "is Buonagiunta,

       Buonagiunta, of Lucca; and that face

       Beyond him there, more peaked than the others,

      Has held the holy Church within his arms;

       From Tours was he, and purges by his fasting

       Bolsena's eels and the Vernaccia wine."

      He named me many others one by one;

       And all contented seemed at being named,

       So that for this I saw not one dark look.

      I saw for hunger bite the empty air

       Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface,

       Who with his crook had pastured many people.

      I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisure

       Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness,

       And he was one who ne'er felt satisfied.

      But as he does who scans, and then doth prize

       One more than others, did I him of Lucca,

       Who seemed to take most cognizance of me.

      He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca

       From that place heard I, where he felt the wound

       Of justice, that doth macerate them so.

      "O soul," I said, "that seemest so desirous

       To speak with me, do so that I may hear thee,

       And with thy speech appease thyself and me."

      "A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,"

       Began he, "who to thee shall pleasant make

       My city, howsoever men may blame it.

      Thou shalt go on thy way with this prevision;

       If by my murmuring thou hast been deceived,

       True things hereafter will declare it to thee.