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the complete poetical works-第263章

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It was two hours before the break of day。

My fever was quite gone。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                  A strange adventure;

That could have happened to no man alive

But you; my Benvenuto。



BENVENUTO。

                As my workmen said

To major…domo Ricci afterward;

When he inquired of them: 〃'T was not a man;

But an express great devil。〃



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                      And the statue?



BENVENUTO。

Perfect in every part; save the right foot

Of Perseus; as I had foretold the Duke。

There was just bronze enough to fill the mould;

Not a drop over; not a drop too little。

I looked upon it as a miracle

Wrought by the hand of God。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                       And now I see

How you have turned your vices into virtues。



BENVENUTO。

But wherefore do I prate of this?  I came

To speak of other things。  Duke Cosimo

Through me invites you to return to Florence;

And offers you great honors; even to make you

One of the Forty…Eight; his Senators。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

His Senators!  That is enough。  Since Florence

Was changed by Clement Seventh from a Republic

Into a Dukedom; I no longer wish

To be a Florentine。  That dream is ended。

The Grand Duke Cosimo now reigns supreme;

All liberty is dead。  Ah; woe is me!

I hoped to see my country rise to heights

Of happiness and freedom yet unreached

By other nations; but the climbing wave

Pauses; lets go its hold; and slides again

Back to the common level; with a hoarse

Death rattle in its throat。  I am too old

To hope for better days。  I will stay here

And die in Rome。  The very weeds; that grow

Among the broken fragments of her ruins;

Are sweeter to me than the garden flowers

Of other cities; and the desolate ring

Of the Campagna round about her walls

Fairer than all the villas that encircle

The towns of Tuscany。



BENVENUTO。

               But your old friends!



MICHAEL ANGELO。

All dead by violence。  Baccio Valori

Has been beheaded; Guicciardini poisoned;

Philippo Strozzi strangled in his prison。

Is Florence then a place for honest men

To flourish in?  What is there to prevent

My sharing the same fate?



BENVENUTO。

                     Why this: if all

Your friends are dead; so are your enemies。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

Is Aretino dead?



BENVENUTO。

                 He lives in Venice;

And not in Florence。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                 'T is the same to me

This wretched mountebank; whom flatterers

Call the Divine; as if to make the word

Unpleasant in the mouths of those who speak it

And in the ears of those who hear it; sends me

A letter written for the public eye;

And with such subtle and infernal malice;

I wonder at his wickedness。  'T is he

Is the express great devil; and not you。

Some years ago he told me how to paint

The scenes of the Last Judgment。



BENVENUTO。

                          I remember。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

Well; now he writes to me that; as a Christian;

He is ashamed of the unbounded freedom

With which I represent it。



BENVENUTO。

                          Hypocrite!



MICHAEL ANGELO。

He says I show mankind that I am wanting

In piety and religion; in proportion

As I profess perfection in my art。

Profess perfection?  Why; 't is only men

Like Bugiardini who are satisfied

With what they do。  I never am content;

But always see the labors of my hand

Fall short of my conception。



BENVENUTO。

                            I perceive

The malice of this creature。  He would taint you

With heresy; and in a time like this!

'T is infamous!



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                I represent the angels

Without their heavenly glory; and the saints

Without a trace of earthly modesty。



BENVENUTO。

Incredible audacity!



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                   The heathen

Veiled their Diana with some drapery;

And when they represented Venus naked

They made her by her modest attitude;

Appear half clothed。  But I; who am a Christian;

Do so subordinate belief to art

That I have made the very violation

Of modesty in martyrs and in virgins

A spectacle at which all men would gaze

With half…averted eyes even in a brothel。



BENVENUTO。

He is at home there; and he ought to know

What men avert their eyes from in such places;

From the Last Judgment chiefly; I imagine。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

But divine Providence will never leave

The boldness of my marvellous work unpunished;

And the more marvellous it is; the more

'T is sure to prove the ruin of my fame!

And finally; if in this composition

I had pursued the instructions that he gave me

Concerning heaven and hell and paradise;

In that same letter; known to all the world;

Nature would not be forced; as she is now;

To feel ashamed that she invested me

With such great talent; that I stand myself

A very idol in the world of art。

He taunts me also with the Mausoleum

Of Julius; still unfinished; for the reason

That men persuaded the inane old man

It was of evil augury to build

His tomb while he was living; and he speaks

Of heaps of gold this Pope bequeathed to me;

And calls it robbery;that is what he says。

What prompted such a letter?



BENVENUTO。

                             Vanity。

He is a clever writer; and he likes

To draw his pen; and flourish it in the face

Of every honest man; as swordsmen do

Their rapiers on occasion; but to show

How skilfully they do it。  Had you followed

The advice he gave; or even thanked him for it;

You would have seen another style of fence。

'T is but his wounded vanity; and the wish

To see his name in print。  So give it not

A moment's thought; it soon will be forgotten。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

I will not think of it; but let it pass

For a rude speech thrown at me in the street;

As boys threw stones at Dante。



BENVENUTO。

                    And what answer

Shall I take back to Grand Duke Cosimo?

He does not ask your labor or your service;

Only your presence in the city of Florence;

With such advice upon his work in hand

As he may ask; and you may choose to give。



MICHAEL ANGELO。

You have my answer。  Nothing he can offer

Shall tempt me to leave Rome。  My work is here;

And only here; the building of St。 Peter's。

What other things I hitherto have done

Have fallen from me; are no longer mine;

I have passed on beyond them; and have left them

As milestones on the way。  What lies before me;

That is still mine; and while it is unfinished

No one shall draw me from it; or persuade me;

By promises of ease; or wealth; or honor;

Till I behold the finished dome uprise

Complete; as now I see it in my thought。



BENVENUTO。

And will you paint no more?



MICHAEL ANGELO。

                        No more。



BENVENUTO。

                           'T is well。

Sculpture is more divine; and more like Nature;

That fashions all her works in high relief;

And that is sc
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