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(From Scenes from the Magico Prodigioso)
Translated by P. B. Shelley
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. | 5 |
| 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 | 10 |
| 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 labor, and return for me | |
| When the sun seeks its grave among the billows, | 15 |
| Which among the dim gray clouds on the horizon | |
| Dance like white plumes upon a hearse; and here | |
| I shall expect you. * * * * * | |
| What noise is that among the boughs? Who moves? | |
What art thou?
DÆMON. ’T is a foreign gentleman. | 20 |
| 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 | 25 |
| 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. | 30 |
| CYP. ’T is singular that even within the sight | |
| Of the high towers of Antioch you could lose | |
| Your way. Of all the avenues and green paths | |
| Of this wild wood there is not one but leads, | |
| As to its centre, to the walls of Antioch; | 35 |
| Take which you will, you cannot miss your road. | |
| DÆM. And such is ignorance! Even in the sight | |
| Of knowledge it can draw no profit from it. | |
| But as it still is early, and as I | |
| Have no acquaintances in Antioch, | 40 |
| Being a stranger there, I will even wait | |
| The few surviving hours of the day, | |
| Until the night shall conquer it. | |
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