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SONNET FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE.

DANTE ALIGHIERI TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI.

Guido, I would that Lappo, thou, and I,
Led by some strong enchantment, might ascend
A magic ship, whose charmed sails should fly
With winds at will where'er our thoughts might

wend,
So that no change, nor any evil chance,
Should mar our joyous voyage ; but it might be,
That even satiety should still enhance
Between our hearts their strict community;
And that the bounteous wizard then would place
Vanna and Bice and my gentle love,
Companions of our wandering, and would grace
With passionate talk, wherever we might rove,
Our time, and each were as content and free
As I believe that thou and I should be

SCENES

FROM THE

MAGICO PRODIGIOSO OF CALDERON.

CYPRIAN as a Student ; CLARIN and Moscon as poor

Scholars, with books.

CYPRIAN.

In the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees
And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants,
Leave me; the books you brought out of the house
To me are ever best society.
And whilst with glorious festival and song
Antioch now celebrates the consecration
Of a proud temple to great Jupiter,
And bears his image in loud jubilee
To its new shrine, I would consume what still
Lives of the dying day, in studious thought,
Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends,
Go and enjoy the festival ; it will
Be worth the labour, and return for me
When the sun seeks its grave among the billows,
Which
among

dim
gray

clouds on the horizon Dance like white plumes upon a hearse ;-and here I shall expect you.

MOSCON

I cannot bring my mind, Great as my haste to see the festival Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without Just saying some three or four hundred words. How is it possible that on a day Of such festivity, you can bring your mind To come forth to a solitary country With three or four old books, and turn your back On all this mirth ?

CLARIN.

My master's in the right;
There is not any thing more tiresome
Than a procession day, with troops of men,
And dances, and all that.

MOSCON.

From first to last, Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer; You praise not what you feel, but what he does ; Toadeater !

CLARIN

You lie-under a mistake-
For this is the most civil sort of lie
That can be given to a man's face. I now
Say what I think.

CYPRIAN.

Enough, you foolish fellows Puffed up with your own doting ignorance,

You always take the two sides of one question.
Now go, and as I said, return for me
When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide
This glorious fabric of the universe.

MOSCON.

How happens it, although you can maintain
The folly of enjoying festivals,
That yet you go there?

CLARIN.

Nay, the consequence Is clear :-who ever did what he advises Others to do?

MOSCON.

Would that my feet were wings, So would I fly to Livia.

[Exit.

CLARIN.

To speak truth, Livia is she who has surprised my heart; But he is more than half

way

there. --Soho ! Livia, I come; good sport, Livia, soho! [Erit.

OYPRIAN.

Now since I am alone, let me examine
The question which has long disturbed my mind
With doubt, since first I read in Plinius,
The words of mystic import and deep sense
In which he defines God. My intellect

Can find no God with whom these marks and signs
Fitly agree. It is a hidden truth
Which I must fathom.

(Reads.

Enter the Devil, as a fine Gentleman.

DÆMON.

Search even as thou wilt, But thou shalt never find what I can hide.

CYPRIAN.

What noise is that among the boughs ? Who

moves ? What art thou ?

DÆMON.

'Tis a foreign gentleman. Even from this morning I have lost my way In this wild place, and my poor horse, at last Quite overcome, has stretched himself upon The enamelled tapestry of this mossy mountain, And feeds and rests at the same time. I was Upon my way to Antioch upon business Of some importance, but wrapt up in cares (Who is exempt from this inheritance ?) I parted from my company, and lost My way, and lost my servants and my comrades.

CYPRIAN.

'Tis singular, that, even within the sight
Of the high towers of Antioch, you could lose

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