The Battle of Darkness and Light - Джон Мильтон

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for him make shorter with thy works.

      Florence, within the ancient boundary

       From which she taketh still her tierce and nones,

       Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste.

      No golden chain she had, nor coronal,

       Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle

       That caught the eye more than the person did.

      Not yet the daughter at her birth struck fear

       Into the father, for the time and dower

       Did not o'errun this side or that the measure.

      No houses had she void of families,

       Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus

       To show what in a chamber can be done;

      Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been

       By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed

       Shall in its downfall be as in its rise.

      Bellincion Berti saw I go begirt

       With leather and with bone, and from the mirror

       His dame depart without a painted face;

      And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio,

       Contented with their simple suits of buff

       And with the spindle and the flax their dames.

      O fortunate women! and each one was certain

       Of her own burial-place, and none as yet

       For sake of France was in her bed deserted.

      One o'er the cradle kept her studious watch,

       And in her lullaby the language used

       That first delights the fathers and the mothers;

      Another, drawing tresses from her distaff,

       Told o'er among her family the tales

       Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome.

      As great a marvel then would have been held

       A Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella,

       As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.

      To such a quiet, such a beautiful

       Life of the citizen, to such a safe

       Community, and to so sweet an inn,

      Did Mary give me, with loud cries invoked,

       And in your ancient Baptistery at once

       Christian and Cacciaguida I became.

      Moronto was my brother, and Eliseo;

       From Val di Pado came to me my wife,

       And from that place thy surname was derived.

      I followed afterward the Emperor Conrad,

       And he begirt me of his chivalry,

       So much I pleased him with my noble deeds.

      I followed in his train against that law's

       Iniquity, whose people doth usurp

       Your just possession, through your Pastor's fault.

      There by that execrable race was I

       Released from bonds of the fallacious world,

       The love of which defileth many souls,

      And came from martyrdom unto this peace."

      XVI. Dante's Noble Ancestry. Cacciaguida's Discourse of the Great Florentines.

       Table of Contents

      O thou our poor nobility of blood,

       If thou dost make the people glory in thee

       Down here where our affection languishes,

      A marvellous thing it ne'er will be to me;

       For there where appetite is not perverted,

       I say in Heaven, of thee I made a boast!

      Truly thou art a cloak that quickly shortens,

       So that unless we piece thee day by day

       Time goeth round about thee with his shears!

      With 'You,' which Rome was first to tolerate,

       (Wherein her family less perseveres,)

       Yet once again my words beginning made;

      Whence Beatrice, who stood somewhat apart,

       Smiling, appeared like unto her who coughed

       At the first failing writ of Guenever.

      And I began: "You are my ancestor,

       You give to me all hardihood to speak,

       You lift me so that I am more than I.

      So many rivulets with gladness fill

       My mind, that of itself it makes a joy

       Because it can endure this and not burst.

      Then tell me, my beloved root ancestral,

       Who were your ancestors, and what the years

       That in your boyhood chronicled themselves?

      Tell me about the sheepfold of Saint John,

       How large it was, and who the people were

       Within it worthy of the highest seats."

      As at the blowing of the winds a coal

       Quickens to flame, so I beheld that light

       Become resplendent at my blandishments.

      And as unto mine eyes it grew more fair,

       With voice more sweet and tender, but not in

       This modern dialect, it said to me:

      "From uttering of the 'Ave,' till the birth

       In which my mother, who is now a saint,

       Of me was lightened who had been her burden,

      Unto its Lion had this fire returned

       Five hundred fifty times and thirty more,

       To reinflame itself beneath his paw.

      My ancestors and I our birthplace had

       Where first is found the last ward of the city

       By him who runneth in your annual game.

      Suffice it of my elders to hear this;

       But who they were, and whence they thither came,

       Silence is more considerate than speech.

      All those who at that time were there between

       Mars and the Baptist, fit for bearing arms,

       Were a fifth part of those who now are living;

      But the community, that now is mixed

       With Campi and Certaldo and Figghine,

       Pure in the lowest artisan was seen.

      O how much better 'twere to have as neighbours

       The folk of whom I speak, and at Galluzzo

       And at Trespiano have your boundary,

      Than have them in the town, and bear the stench

       Of Aguglione's churl, and him of Signa

       Who has sharp eyes for trickery already.

      Had not the folk, which most of all the world

       Degenerates, been a step-dame unto Caesar,

       But as a mother to her son benignant,

      Some

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