The Battle of Darkness and Light . Джон Мильтон

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The Battle of Darkness and Light  - Джон Мильтон

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him I saw return to all the lights

       Of his highway nine hundred times and thirty,

       Whilst I upon the earth was tarrying.

      The language that I spake was quite extinct

       Before that in the work interminable

       The people under Nimrod were employed;

      For nevermore result of reasoning

       (Because of human pleasure that doth change,

       Obedient to the heavens) was durable.

      A natural action is it that man speaks;

       But whether thus or thus, doth nature leave

       To your own art, as seemeth best to you.

      Ere I descended to the infernal anguish,

       'El' was on earth the name of the Chief Good,

       From whom comes all the joy that wraps me round

      'Eli' he then was called, and that is proper,

       Because the use of men is like a leaf

       On bough, which goeth and another cometh.

      Upon the mount that highest o'er the wave

       Rises was I, in life or pure or sinful,

       From the first hour to that which is the second,

      As the sun changes quadrant, to the sixth."

      XXVII. St. Peter's reproof of bad Popes. The Ascent to the Ninth Heaven, the 'Primum Mobile.'

       Table of Contents

      "Glory be to the Father, to the Son,

       And Holy Ghost!" all Paradise began,

       So that the melody inebriate made me.

      What I beheld seemed unto me a smile

       Of the universe; for my inebriation

       Found entrance through the hearing and the sight.

      O joy! O gladness inexpressible!

       O perfect life of love and peacefulness!

       O riches without hankering secure!

      Before mine eyes were standing the four torches

       Enkindled, and the one that first had come

       Began to make itself more luminous;

      And even such in semblance it became

       As Jupiter would become, if he and Mars

       Were birds, and they should interchange their feathers.

      That Providence, which here distributeth

       Season and service, in the blessed choir

       Had silence upon every side imposed.

      When I heard say: "If I my colour change,

       Marvel not at it; for while I am speaking

       Thou shalt behold all these their colour change.

      He who usurps upon the earth my place,

       My place, my place, which vacant has become

       Before the presence of the Son of God,

      Has of my cemetery made a sewer

       Of blood and stench, whereby the Perverse One,

       Who fell from here, below there is appeased!"

      With the same colour which, through sun adverse,

       Painteth the clouds at evening or at morn,

       Beheld I then the whole of heaven suffused.

      And as a modest woman, who abides

       Sure of herself, and at another's failing,

       From listening only, timorous becomes,

      Even thus did Beatrice change countenance;

       And I believe in heaven was such eclipse,

       When suffered the supreme Omnipotence;

      Thereafterward proceeded forth his words

       With voice so much transmuted from itself,

       The very countenance was not more changed.

      "The spouse of Christ has never nurtured been

       On blood of mine, of Linus and of Cletus,

       To be made use of in acquest of gold;

      But in acquest of this delightful life

       Sixtus and Pius, Urban and Calixtus,

       After much lamentation, shed their blood.

      Our purpose was not, that on the right hand

       Of our successors should in part be seated

       The Christian folk, in part upon the other;

      Nor that the keys which were to me confided

       Should e'er become the escutcheon on a banner,

       That should wage war on those who are baptized;

      Nor I be made the figure of a seal

       To privileges venal and mendacious,

       Whereat I often redden and flash with fire.

      In garb of shepherds the rapacious wolves

       Are seen from here above o'er all the pastures!

       O wrath of God, why dost thou slumber still?

      To drink our blood the Caorsines and Gascons

       Are making ready. O thou good beginning,

       Unto how vile an end must thou needs fall!

      But the high Providence, that with Scipio

       At Rome the glory of the world defended,

       Will speedily bring aid, as I conceive;

      And thou, my son, who by thy mortal weight

       Shalt down return again, open thy mouth;

      

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