John Dryden - Alexander’s Feast, or, the Power of Music 汉译

’TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won     

        By Philip’s warlike son:

    Aloft in awful state

    The godlike hero sate    

       On his imperial throne;            

His valiant peers were placed around,  

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:

    (So should desert in arms be crowned).

The lovely Thais, by his side 

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride        

In flower of youth and beauty’s pride:—     

    Happy, happy, happy pair!    

    None but the brave

    None but the brave

    None but the brave deserves the fair. 

CHORUS

Happy, happy, happy pair!   

None but the brave

None but the brave

None but the brave deserves the fair.  

2

Timotheus, placed on high    

Amid the tuneful choir,

With flying fingers touched the lyre:

The trembling notes ascend the sky      

And heavenly joys inspire.     

The song began from Jove,

Who left his blissful seats above   

(Such is the power of mighty love).

A dragon’s fiery form belied the god:  

Sublime on radiant spires he rode   

When he to fair Olympia pressed;

And while he sought her snowy breast:

Then, round her slender waist he curled,     

And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world.     

The listening crowd admire the lofty sound:

“A present deity,” they shout around;   

“A present deity,” the vaulted roofs rebound:      

With ravished ears      

The monarch hears,     

Assumes the god, 

Affects to nod,    

And seems to shake the spheres.   

                  CHORUS

With ravished ears      

The monarch hears,     

Assumes the god, 

Affects to nod,     

And seems to shake the spheres.    

3

The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung,  

Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:  

The jolly god in triumph comes;        

Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;

FlushEd with a purple grace 

He shows his honest face:     

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes!   

Bacchus, ever fair and young,    

Drinking joys did first ordain;     

Bacchus’ blessings are a treasure,     

Drinking is the soldier’s pleasure;    

Rich the treasure,  

Sweet the pleasure,  

Sweet is pleasure after pain.     

CHORUS

Bacchus’ blessings are a treasure,     

Drinking is the soldier’s pleasure;    

Rich the treasure,      

Sweet the pleasure,      

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

4

  Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain;   

Fought all his battles o’er again,  

And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.   

The master saw the madness rise,   

His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;    

And while he heaven and earth defied  

Changed his hand, and checked his pride.    

He chose a mournful Muse   

Soft pity to infuse:      

He sung Darius great and good,   

By too severe a fate   

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, 

Fallen from his high estate.      

And weltering in his blood;    

Deserted, at his utmost need 

By those his former bounty fed;   

On the bare earth exposed he lies 

With not a friend to close his eyes.      

With downcast looks the joyless victor sate,   

Revolving in his altered soul    

The various turns of chance below;  

And, now and then, a sigh he stole,     

And tears began to flow.   

CHORUS

Revolving in his altered soul     

The various turns of chance below;  

And, now and then, a sigh he stole,     

And tears began to flow.

5

The mighty master smiled to see    

That love was in the next degree; 

’Twas but a kindred-sound to move,    

For pity melts the mind to love.   

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures  

Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.    

“War,” he sung, “is toil and trouble;    

Honour, but an empty bubble.

Never ending, still beginning,  

Fighting still, and still destroying;

If the world be worth thy winning,    

Think, O think, it worth enjoying.

Lovely Thais sits beside thee,   

Take the good the gods provide thee.”

The many rend the skies with loud applause;      

So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause.  

The prince, unable to conceal his pain, 

Gazed on the fair   

Who caused his care,    

And sighed and looked, sighed and looked,     

Sighed and looked, and sighed again:    

At length, with love and wine at once oppressed 

The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

CHORUS

The prince, unable to conceal his pain, 

Gazed on the fair   

Who caused his care,    

And sighed and looked, sighed and looked,     

Sighed and looked, and sighed again:    

At length, with love and wine at once oppressed 

The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

6

Now strike the golden lyre again: 

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.   

Break his bands of sleep asunder  

And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.    

Hark, hark, the horrid sound    

Has raised up his head:  

As awaked from the dead,    

And amazed he stares around.  

“Revenge, revenge!” Timotheus cries,  

“See the Furies arise!

See the snakes that they rear,    

How they hiss in their hair,      

And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! 

Behold a ghastly band,  

Each a torch in his hand!      

Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain       ,

And unburied remain    

Inglorious on the plain: 

Give the vengeance due 

To the valiant crew.      

Behold how they toss their torches on high, 

How they point to the Persian abodes, 

And glittering temples of their hostile gods!”     

The princes applaud with a furious joy;

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy;  

Thais led the way    

To light him to his prey,  

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.      

CHORUS

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy;  

Thais led the way    

To light him to his prey,  

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.      

7

           Thus long ago, 

Ere heaving bellows learn’d to blow,     

While organs yet were mute;  

Timotheus, to his breathing flute,   

And sounding lyre,  

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.     

At last divine Cecilia came,  

Inventress of the vocal frame;      

The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store  

Enlarged the former narrow bounds,   

And added length to solemn sounds,    

With Nature’s mother-wit, and arts unknown before.  

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,    

Or both divide the crown:    

He raised a mortal to the skies;    

She drew an angel down.

GRAND CHORUS

At last divine Cecilia came,  

Inventress of the vocal frame;      

The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store  

Enlarged the former narrow bounds,   

And added length to solemn sounds,    

With Nature’s mother-wit, and arts unknown before.  

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,    

Or both divide the crown:    

He raised a mortal to the skies;    

She drew an angel down.