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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:19 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:19 -0700 |
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diff --git a/1008-h/1008-h.htm b/1008-h/1008-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5bd548a --- /dev/null +++ b/1008-h/1008-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,27204 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Divine Comedy, by Dante Alighieri</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1008 ***</div> + +<h1>THE DIVINE COMEDY OF DANTE ALIGHIERI</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">Translated by<br /> +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.0"><b>HELL</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.I">CANTO I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.II">CANTO II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.III">CANTO III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IV">CANTO IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.V">CANTO V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VI">CANTO VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VII">CANTO VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VIII">CANTO VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IX">CANTO IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.X">CANTO X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XI">CANTO XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XII">CANTO XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIII">CANTO XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIV">CANTO XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XV">CANTO XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVI">CANTO XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVII">CANTO XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVIII">CANTO XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIX">CANTO XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XX">CANTO XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXI">CANTO XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXII">CANTO XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIII">CANTO XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIV">CANTO XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXV">CANTO XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVI">CANTO XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVII">CANTO XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVIII">CANTO XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIX">CANTO XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXX">CANTO XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXI">CANTO XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXII">CANTO XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIII">CANTO XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIV">CANTO XXXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#notes01">NOTES TO HELL.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.0"><b>PURGATORY</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.I">CANTO I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.II">CANTO II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.III">CANTO III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.IV">CANTO IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.V">CANTO V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.VI">CANTO VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.VII">CANTO VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.VIII">CANTO VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.IX">CANTO IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.X">CANTO X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XI">CANTO XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XII">CANTO XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XIII">CANTO XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XIV">CANTO XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XV">CANTO XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XVI">CANTO XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XVII">CANTO XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XVIII">CANTO XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XIX">CANTO XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XX">CANTO XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXI">CANTO XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXII">CANTO XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXIII">CANTO XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXIV">CANTO XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXV">CANTO XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXVI">CANTO XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXVII">CANTO XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXVIII">CANTO XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXIX">CANTO XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXX">CANTO XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXXI">CANTO XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXXII">CANTO XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoII.XXXIII">CANTO XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#notes02">NOTES TO PURGATORY.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.0"><b>PARADISE</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.I">CANTO I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.II">CANTO II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.III">CANTO III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.IV">CANTO IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.V">CANTO V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.VI">CANTO VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.VII">CANTO VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.VIII">CANTO VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.IX">CANTO IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.X">CANTO X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XI">CANTO XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XII">CANTO XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XIII">CANTO XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XIV">CANTO XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XV">CANTO XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XVI">CANTO XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XVII">CANTO XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XVIII">CANTO XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XIX">CANTO XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XX">CANTO XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXI">CANTO XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXII">CANTO XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXIII">CANTO XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXIV">CANTO XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXV">CANTO XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXVI">CANTO XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXVII">CANTO XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXVIII">CANTO XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXIX">CANTO XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXX">CANTO XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXXI">CANTO XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXXII">CANTO XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoIII.XXXIII">CANTO XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#notes03">NOTES TO PARADISE.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref01">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref02">A CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.0"></a>HELL</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.I"></a>CANTO I</h2> + +<p> +In the midway of this our mortal life,<br/> +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray<br/> +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell<br/> +It were no easy task, how savage wild<br/> +That forest, how robust and rough its growth,<br/> +Which to remember only, my dismay<br/> +Renews, in bitterness not far from death.<br/> +Yet to discourse of what there good befell,<br/> +All else will I relate discover’d there.<br/> +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say,<br/> +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d<br/> +My senses down, when the true path I left,<br/> +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d<br/> +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread,<br/> +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad<br/> +Already vested with that planet’s beam,<br/> +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. +</p> + +<p> +Then was a little respite to the fear,<br/> +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain,<br/> +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d:<br/> +And as a man, with difficult short breath,<br/> +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore,<br/> +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands<br/> +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d<br/> +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits,<br/> +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame<br/> +After short pause recomforted, again<br/> +I journey’d on over that lonely steep,<br/> +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent<br/> +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light,<br/> +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d,<br/> +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove<br/> +To check my onward going; that ofttimes<br/> +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way<br/> +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars,<br/> +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d<br/> +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope<br/> +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin<br/> +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn<br/> +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d,<br/> +And by new dread succeeded, when in view<br/> +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d,<br/> +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad,<br/> +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf<br/> +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d<br/> +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made<br/> +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear<br/> +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d,<br/> +That of the height all hope I lost. As one,<br/> +Who with his gain elated, sees the time<br/> +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly<br/> +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,<br/> +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,<br/> +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees<br/> +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. +</p> + +<p> +While to the lower space with backward step<br/> +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one,<br/> +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech.<br/> +When him in that great desert I espied,<br/> +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud,<br/> +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was,<br/> +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both<br/> +By country, when the power of Julius yet<br/> +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past<br/> +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time<br/> +Of fabled deities and false. A bard<br/> +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son<br/> +The subject of my song, who came from Troy,<br/> +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers.<br/> +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past<br/> +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount<br/> +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?”<br/> +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,<br/> +From which such copious floods of eloquence<br/> +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied.<br/> +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train!<br/> +May it avail me that I long with zeal<br/> +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense<br/> +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide!<br/> +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d<br/> +That style, which for its beauty into fame<br/> +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled.<br/> +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!<br/> +For every vein and pulse throughout my frame<br/> +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw<br/> +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs<br/> +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape<br/> +From out that savage wilderness. This beast,<br/> +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none<br/> +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:<br/> +So bad and so accursed in her kind,<br/> +That never sated is her ravenous will,<br/> +Still after food more craving than before.<br/> +To many an animal in wedlock vile<br/> +She fastens, and shall yet to many more,<br/> +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy<br/> +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support<br/> +By earth nor its base metals, but by love,<br/> +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be<br/> +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might<br/> +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise,<br/> +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,<br/> +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.<br/> +He with incessant chase through every town<br/> +Shall worry, until he to hell at length<br/> +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.<br/> +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise,<br/> +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide<br/> +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,<br/> +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see<br/> +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke<br/> +A second death; and those next view, who dwell<br/> +Content in fire, for that they hope to come,<br/> +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest,<br/> +Into whose regions if thou then desire<br/> +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I<br/> +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,<br/> +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,<br/> +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,<br/> +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,<br/> +That to his city none through me should come.<br/> +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds<br/> +His citadel and throne. O happy those,<br/> +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few:<br/> +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,<br/> +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse<br/> +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,<br/> +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those<br/> +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” +</p> + +<p> +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.II"></a>CANTO II</h2> + +<p> +Now was the day departing, and the air,<br/> +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d<br/> +All animals on earth; and I alone<br/> +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain,<br/> +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,<br/> +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. +</p> + +<p> +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe<br/> +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept<br/> +Safe in a written record, here thy worth<br/> +And eminent endowments come to proof. +</p> + +<p> +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide,<br/> +Consider well, if virtue be in me<br/> +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise<br/> +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire,<br/> +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among<br/> +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there<br/> +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord,<br/> +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d,<br/> +In contemplation of the high effect,<br/> +Both what and who from him should issue forth,<br/> +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d:<br/> +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide,<br/> +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire:<br/> +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d<br/> +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits<br/> +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds.<br/> +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d,<br/> +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise<br/> +And to the papal robe. In after-times<br/> +The chosen vessel also travel’d there,<br/> +To bring us back assurance in that faith,<br/> +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way.<br/> +But I, why should I there presume? or who<br/> +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul.<br/> +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else<br/> +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then<br/> +I venture, fear it will in folly end.<br/> +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st,<br/> +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves<br/> +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts<br/> +Changes his purpose, from his first intent<br/> +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast,<br/> +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first<br/> +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words<br/> +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous,<br/> +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft<br/> +So overcasts a man, that he recoils<br/> +From noblest resolution, like a beast<br/> +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom.<br/> +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,<br/> +I will instruct thee why I came, and what<br/> +I heard in that same instant, when for thee<br/> +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe,<br/> +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest<br/> +And lovely, I besought her to command,<br/> +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star<br/> +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft<br/> +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d:<br/> +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame<br/> +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!<br/> +A friend, not of my fortune but myself,<br/> +On the wide desert in his road has met<br/> +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d.<br/> +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d,<br/> +And I be ris’n too late for his relief,<br/> +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now,<br/> +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,<br/> +And by all means for his deliverance meet,<br/> +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring.<br/> +I who now bid thee on this errand forth<br/> +Am Beatrice; from a place I come<br/> +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence,<br/> +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight<br/> +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is pronounced in the Italian, as +consisting of four syllables, of which the third is a long one.) +</p> + +<p> +She then was silent, and I thus began:<br/> +“O Lady! by whose influence alone,<br/> +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d<br/> +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,<br/> +So thy command delights me, that to obey,<br/> +If it were done already, would seem late.<br/> +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;<br/> +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth<br/> +To leave that ample space, where to return<br/> +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” +</p> + +<p> +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,<br/> +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread<br/> +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone<br/> +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed,<br/> +None else, for none are terrible beside.<br/> +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace!<br/> +That any suff’rance of your misery<br/> +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire<br/> +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame<br/> +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief<br/> +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,<br/> +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.<br/> +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:<br/> +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid<br/> +And I commend him to thee.” At her word<br/> +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,<br/> +And coming to the place, where I abode<br/> +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,<br/> +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God!<br/> +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent<br/> +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave<br/> +For thy sake all the multitude admires?<br/> +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,<br/> +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,<br/> +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”<br/> +Ne’er among men did any with such speed<br/> +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,<br/> +As when these words were spoken, I came here,<br/> +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force<br/> +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all<br/> +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes<br/> +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt<br/> +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,<br/> +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast,<br/> +Who thy near way across the goodly mount<br/> +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?<br/> +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast<br/> +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there<br/> +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest<br/> +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven;<br/> +And so much certain good my words forebode.” +</p> + +<p> +As florets, by the frosty air of night<br/> +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves,<br/> +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;<br/> +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d,<br/> +And to my heart such kindly courage ran,<br/> +That I as one undaunted soon replied:<br/> +“O full of pity she, who undertook<br/> +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform<br/> +So soon her true behest! With such desire<br/> +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage,<br/> +That my first purpose fully is resum’d.<br/> +Lead on: one only will is in us both.<br/> +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d,<br/> +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.III"></a>CANTO III</h2> + +<p> +“Through me you pass into the city of woe:<br/> +Through me you pass into eternal pain:<br/> +Through me among the people lost for aye.<br/> +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d:<br/> +To rear me was the task of power divine,<br/> +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.<br/> +Before me things create were none, save things<br/> +Eternal, and eternal I endure.<br/> +All hope abandon ye who enter here.” +</p> + +<p> +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d<br/> +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import<br/> +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied:<br/> +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;<br/> +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come<br/> +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls<br/> +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good<br/> +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth<br/> +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d,<br/> +Into that secret place he led me on. +</p> + +<p> +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans<br/> +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star,<br/> +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues,<br/> +Horrible languages, outcries of woe,<br/> +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,<br/> +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds,<br/> +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls<br/> +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d,<br/> +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. +</p> + +<p> +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried:<br/> +“O master! What is this I hear? What race<br/> +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “This miserable fate<br/> +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d<br/> +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band<br/> +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d<br/> +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves<br/> +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,<br/> +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth<br/> +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe<br/> +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,<br/> +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied:<br/> +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death<br/> +No hope may entertain: and their blind life<br/> +So meanly passes, that all other lots<br/> +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,<br/> +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.<br/> +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag,<br/> +Which whirling ran around so rapidly,<br/> +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came<br/> +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er<br/> +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. +</p> + +<p> +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw<br/> +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear<br/> +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith<br/> +I understood for certain this the tribe<br/> +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing<br/> +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived,<br/> +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung<br/> +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks<br/> +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet,<br/> +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. +</p> + +<p> +Then looking farther onwards I beheld<br/> +A throng upon the shore of a great stream:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know<br/> +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem<br/> +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern<br/> +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few:<br/> +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive<br/> +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” +</p> + +<p> +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame,<br/> +Fearing my words offensive to his ear,<br/> +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech<br/> +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark<br/> +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,<br/> +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not<br/> +Ever to see the sky again. I come<br/> +To take you to the other shore across,<br/> +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell<br/> +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there<br/> +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave<br/> +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld<br/> +I left them not, “By other way,” said he,<br/> +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore,<br/> +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat<br/> +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide:<br/> +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’tis will’d,<br/> +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks<br/> +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake,<br/> +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile<br/> +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d,<br/> +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words<br/> +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d,<br/> +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed<br/> +That did engender them and give them birth. +</p> + +<p> +Then all together sorely wailing drew<br/> +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass<br/> +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form,<br/> +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,<br/> +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar<br/> +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves,<br/> +One still another following, till the bough<br/> +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;<br/> +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood<br/> +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,<br/> +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. +</p> + +<p> +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave,<br/> +And ever they on the opposing bank<br/> +Be landed, on this side another throng<br/> +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide,<br/> +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God,<br/> +All here together come from every clime,<br/> +And to o’erpass the river are not loth:<br/> +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear<br/> +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past<br/> +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain,<br/> +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook<br/> +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews<br/> +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast,<br/> +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,<br/> +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I<br/> +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IV"></a>CANTO IV</h2> + +<p> +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash<br/> +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,<br/> +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright,<br/> +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d<br/> +With fixed ken to know what place it was,<br/> +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink<br/> +I found me of the lamentable vale,<br/> +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound<br/> +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep,<br/> +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain<br/> +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath<br/> +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look:<br/> +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus:<br/> +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,<br/> +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “The anguish of that race below<br/> +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear<br/> +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way<br/> +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d;<br/> +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds<br/> +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss.<br/> +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard<br/> +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air<br/> +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief<br/> +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,<br/> +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me<br/> +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits<br/> +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass<br/> +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin<br/> +Were blameless; and if aught they merited,<br/> +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,<br/> +The portal to thy faith. If they before<br/> +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright;<br/> +And among such am I. For these defects,<br/> +And for no other evil, we are lost;<br/> +Only so far afflicted, that we live<br/> +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d<br/> +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew<br/> +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul<br/> +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d!<br/> +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish<br/> +Of full assurance in that holy faith,<br/> +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er<br/> +Any, or through his own or other’s merit,<br/> +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” +</p> + +<p> +Piercing the secret purport of my speech,<br/> +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate,<br/> +When I beheld a puissant one arrive<br/> +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d.<br/> +He forth the shade of our first parent drew,<br/> +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man,<br/> +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d,<br/> +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,<br/> +Israel with his sire and with his sons,<br/> +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won,<br/> +And others many more, whom he to bliss<br/> +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d,<br/> +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” +</p> + +<p> +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road,<br/> +Still passing through the wood; for so I name<br/> +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far<br/> +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d<br/> +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere<br/> +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space<br/> +Were distant, not so far but I in part<br/> +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high<br/> +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art<br/> +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast<br/> +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names<br/> +That echoes through your world above, acquires<br/> +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.”<br/> +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard<br/> +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!”<br/> +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld<br/> +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,<br/> +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him,<br/> +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen,<br/> +The other three preceding, as their lord.<br/> +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme:<br/> +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling;<br/> +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last.<br/> +Because they all that appellation own,<br/> +With which the voice singly accosted me,<br/> +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” +</p> + +<p> +So I beheld united the bright school<br/> +Of him the monarch of sublimest song,<br/> +That o’er the others like an eagle soars.<br/> +When they together short discourse had held,<br/> +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind<br/> +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d:<br/> +Nor was this all; but greater honour still<br/> +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;<br/> +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. +</p> + +<p> +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d<br/> +Speaking of matters, then befitting well<br/> +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot<br/> +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d,<br/> +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round<br/> +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this<br/> +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates<br/> +I with those sages enter’d, and we came<br/> +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. +</p> + +<p> +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around<br/> +Majestically mov’d, and in their port<br/> +Bore eminent authority; they spake<br/> +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. +</p> + +<p> +We to one side retir’d, into a place<br/> +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one<br/> +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent<br/> +There on the green enamel of the plain<br/> +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight<br/> +I am exalted in my own esteem. +</p> + +<p> +Electra there I saw accompanied<br/> +By many, among whom Hector I knew,<br/> +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye<br/> +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there<br/> +Penthesilea. On the other side<br/> +Old King Latinus, seated by his child<br/> +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,<br/> +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife<br/> +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;<br/> +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. +</p> + +<p> +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow,<br/> +I spied the master of the sapient throng,<br/> +Seated amid the philosophic train.<br/> +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due.<br/> +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d,<br/> +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,<br/> +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,<br/> +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,<br/> +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,<br/> +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read<br/> +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d<br/> +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,<br/> +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,<br/> +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made<br/> +That commentary vast, Averroes. +</p> + +<p> +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;<br/> +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes<br/> +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two<br/> +The six associates part. Another way<br/> +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,<br/> +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms:<br/> +And to a part I come where no light shines. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.V"></a>CANTO V</h2> + +<p> +From the first circle I descended thus<br/> +Down to the second, which, a lesser space<br/> +Embracing, so much more of grief contains<br/> +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands<br/> +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all<br/> +Who enter, strict examining the crimes,<br/> +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,<br/> +According as he foldeth him around:<br/> +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul,<br/> +It all confesses; and that judge severe<br/> +Of sins, considering what place in hell<br/> +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft<br/> +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath<br/> +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand<br/> +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn<br/> +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears<br/> +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou! who to this residence of woe<br/> +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried<br/> +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,<br/> +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom<br/> +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad<br/> +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide:<br/> +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way<br/> +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d<br/> +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard.<br/> +Now am I come where many a plaining voice<br/> +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came<br/> +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d<br/> +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn<br/> +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell<br/> +With restless fury drives the spirits on<br/> +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy.<br/> +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,<br/> +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,<br/> +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. +</p> + +<p> +I understood that to this torment sad<br/> +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom<br/> +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops<br/> +And multitudinous, when winter reigns,<br/> +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;<br/> +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.<br/> +On this side and on that, above, below,<br/> +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them<br/> +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes,<br/> +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky,<br/> +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld<br/> +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on<br/> +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who<br/> +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—” The +first<br/> +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied,<br/> +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice<br/> +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made<br/> +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree,<br/> +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d.<br/> +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ,<br/> +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d;<br/> +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.<br/> +The next in amorous fury slew herself,<br/> +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith:<br/> +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” +</p> + +<p> +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long<br/> +The time was fraught with evil; there the great<br/> +Achilles, who with love fought to the end.<br/> +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside<br/> +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name<br/> +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. +</p> + +<p> +When I had heard my sage instructor name<br/> +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d<br/> +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind<br/> +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly<br/> +I would address those two together coming,<br/> +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus:<br/> +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.<br/> +Then by that love which carries them along,<br/> +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind<br/> +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech:<br/> +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse<br/> +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves<br/> +By fond desire invited, on wide wings<br/> +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,<br/> +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;<br/> +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks,<br/> +They through the ill air speeding; with such force<br/> +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st<br/> +Visiting, through this element obscure,<br/> +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d;<br/> +If for a friend the King of all we own’d,<br/> +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise,<br/> +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.<br/> +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse<br/> +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that<br/> +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind,<br/> +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth,<br/> +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends<br/> +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. +</p> + +<p> +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,<br/> +Entangled him by that fair form, from me<br/> +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:<br/> +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d,<br/> +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,<br/> +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not.<br/> +Love brought us to one death: Caina waits<br/> +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words;<br/> +At hearing which downward I bent my looks,<br/> +And held them there so long, that the bard cried:<br/> +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus:<br/> +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire<br/> +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” +</p> + +<p> +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d.<br/> +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate<br/> +Even to tears my grief and pity moves.<br/> +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,<br/> +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew<br/> +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:<br/> +“No greater grief than to remember days<br/> +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens<br/> +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly<br/> +If thou art bent to know the primal root,<br/> +From whence our love gat being, I will do,<br/> +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day<br/> +For our delight we read of Lancelot,<br/> +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no<br/> +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading<br/> +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue<br/> +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point<br/> +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,<br/> +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d<br/> +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er<br/> +From me shall separate, at once my lips<br/> +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both<br/> +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day<br/> +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake,<br/> +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck<br/> +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far<br/> +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VI"></a>CANTO VI</h2> + +<p> +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d<br/> +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief<br/> +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see<br/> +New torments, new tormented souls, which way<br/> +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight.<br/> +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs<br/> +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d<br/> +For ever, both in kind and in degree.<br/> +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw<br/> +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain:<br/> +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. +</p> + +<p> +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,<br/> +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog<br/> +Over the multitude immers’d beneath.<br/> +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,<br/> +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which<br/> +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs<br/> +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs,<br/> +Under the rainy deluge, with one side<br/> +The other screening, oft they roll them round,<br/> +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm<br/> +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d<br/> +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb<br/> +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms<br/> +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth<br/> +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw.<br/> +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food<br/> +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall<br/> +His fury, bent alone with eager haste<br/> +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks<br/> +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns<br/> +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. +</p> + +<p> +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt<br/> +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet<br/> +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. +</p> + +<p> +They all along the earth extended lay<br/> +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit,<br/> +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!”<br/> +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led,<br/> +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d<br/> +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied:<br/> +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes<br/> +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems<br/> +As if I saw thee never. But inform<br/> +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad<br/> +Art set, and in such torment, that although<br/> +Other be greater, more disgustful none<br/> +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus:<br/> +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim,<br/> +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,<br/> +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens<br/> +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin<br/> +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,<br/> +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn;<br/> +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these<br/> +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” +</p> + +<p> +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d:<br/> +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,<br/> +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st,<br/> +What shall at length befall the citizens<br/> +Of the divided city; whether any just one<br/> +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,<br/> +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “After long striving they will come<br/> +To blood; and the wild party from the woods<br/> +Will chase the other with much injury forth.<br/> +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within<br/> +Three solar circles; and the other rise<br/> +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore<br/> +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof<br/> +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight<br/> +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load,<br/> +And grieving sore. The just are two in number,<br/> +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride,<br/> +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all<br/> +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound;<br/> +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn<br/> +More from thee, farther parley still entreat.<br/> +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,<br/> +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo,<br/> +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent<br/> +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where<br/> +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.<br/> +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear,<br/> +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell<br/> +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight:<br/> +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes<br/> +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.<br/> +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.<br/> +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st,<br/> +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.<br/> +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance,<br/> +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head,<br/> +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves,<br/> +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power<br/> +Adverse to these shall then in glory come,<br/> +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,<br/> +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,<br/> +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend<br/> +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul<br/> +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile<br/> +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.<br/> +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir!<br/> +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d,<br/> +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides<br/> +That as each thing to more perfection grows,<br/> +It feels more sensibly both good and pain.<br/> +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive<br/> +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now<br/> +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path<br/> +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse<br/> +Much more than I relate between us pass’d:<br/> +Till at the point, where the steps led below,<br/> +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VII"></a>CANTO VII</h2> + +<p> +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d<br/> +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:<br/> +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d,<br/> +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear<br/> +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none<br/> +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.”<br/> +Then to that sworn lip turning, “ Peace!” he cried,<br/> +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself<br/> +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound<br/> +Not without cause he passes. So ’tis will’d<br/> +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d<br/> +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” +</p> + +<p> +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind<br/> +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split;<br/> +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. +</p> + +<p> +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,<br/> +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe<br/> +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me!<br/> +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st<br/> +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!<br/> +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,<br/> +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks;<br/> +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,<br/> +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,<br/> +From one side and the other, with loud voice,<br/> +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts,<br/> +Then smote together, and each one forthwith<br/> +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again,<br/> +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?”<br/> +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?”<br/> +So still repeating their despiteful song,<br/> +They to the opposite point on either hand<br/> +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d,<br/> +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space<br/> +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof<br/> +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide!<br/> +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn,<br/> +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “In their first life these all<br/> +In mind were so distorted, that they made,<br/> +According to due measure, of their wealth,<br/> +No use. This clearly from their words collect,<br/> +Which they howl forth, at each extremity<br/> +Arriving of the circle, where their crime<br/> +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church<br/> +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls<br/> +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom<br/> +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be,<br/> +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot<br/> +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus:<br/> +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life,<br/> +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,<br/> +And to all knowledge indiscernible.<br/> +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock:<br/> +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise,<br/> +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave,<br/> +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world<br/> +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs<br/> +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off.<br/> +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain,<br/> +The goods committed into fortune’s hands,<br/> +For which the human race keep such a coil!<br/> +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon,<br/> +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls<br/> +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: +</p> + +<p> +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn;<br/> +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is,<br/> +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance<br/> +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark.<br/> +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all,<br/> +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers<br/> +To guide them, so that each part shines to each,<br/> +Their light in equal distribution pour’d.<br/> +By similar appointment he ordain’d<br/> +Over the world’s bright images to rule.<br/> +Superintendence of a guiding hand<br/> +And general minister, which at due time<br/> +May change the empty vantages of life<br/> +From race to race, from one to other’s blood,<br/> +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care:<br/> +Wherefore one nation rises into sway,<br/> +Another languishes, e’en as her will<br/> +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass<br/> +The serpent train. Against her nought avails<br/> +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans,<br/> +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs<br/> +The other powers divine. Her changes know<br/> +Nore intermission: by necessity<br/> +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim<br/> +Succession in her favours. This is she,<br/> +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt<br/> +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully<br/> +With blame requite her, and with evil word;<br/> +But she is blessed, and for that recks not:<br/> +Amidst the other primal beings glad<br/> +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults.<br/> +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe<br/> +Descending: for each star is falling now,<br/> +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids<br/> +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d<br/> +To the next steep, arriving at a well,<br/> +That boiling pours itself down to a foss<br/> +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave<br/> +Than sablest grain: and we in company<br/> +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side,<br/> +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath.<br/> +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands<br/> +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot<br/> +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood<br/> +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried<br/> +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks<br/> +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone<br/> +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet,<br/> +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son!<br/> +The souls of those, whom anger overcame.<br/> +This too for certain know, that underneath<br/> +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs<br/> +Into these bubbles make the surface heave,<br/> +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn.<br/> +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we<br/> +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,<br/> +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:<br/> +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.”<br/> +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.<br/> +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route<br/> +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d<br/> +Between the dry embankment, and the core<br/> +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes<br/> +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees;<br/> +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VIII"></a>CANTO VIII</h2> + +<p> +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere<br/> +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes<br/> +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung<br/> +We mark’d, and from afar another light<br/> +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce<br/> +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round<br/> +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d:<br/> +“Say what this means? and what that other light<br/> +In answer set? what agency doth this?” +</p> + +<p> +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied,<br/> +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,<br/> +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” +</p> + +<p> +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d,<br/> +That ran its way so nimbly through the air,<br/> +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied<br/> +Toward us coming, under the sole sway<br/> +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:<br/> +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, +Phlegyas,<br/> +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied;<br/> +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er<br/> +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears<br/> +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat<br/> +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d<br/> +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d<br/> +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next<br/> +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d<br/> +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d,<br/> +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,<br/> +More deeply than with others it is wont. +</p> + +<p> +While we our course o’er the dead channel held.<br/> +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said;<br/> +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not;<br/> +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” +</p> + +<p> +“One, as thou seest, who mourn: “ he straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +To which I thus: “ In mourning and in woe,<br/> +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well,<br/> +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he +forth<br/> +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage<br/> +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there<br/> +To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck<br/> +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul<br/> +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom<br/> +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one<br/> +For arrogance noted; to his memory<br/> +No virtue lends its lustre; even so<br/> +Here is his shadow furious. There above<br/> +How many now hold themselves mighty kings<br/> +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,<br/> +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold<br/> +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore<br/> +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish,<br/> +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words<br/> +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes<br/> +Set on him with such violence, that yet<br/> +For that render I thanks to God and praise<br/> +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all:<br/> +And on himself the moody Florentine<br/> +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left,<br/> +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear<br/> +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,<br/> +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. +</p> + +<p> +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son!<br/> +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d,<br/> +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir!<br/> +There certes in the valley I descry,<br/> +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire<br/> +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire,<br/> +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame<br/> +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” +</p> + +<p> +We came within the fosses deep, that moat<br/> +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d<br/> +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made<br/> +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud<br/> +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth!<br/> +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied<br/> +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven<br/> +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”<br/> +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through<br/> +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide<br/> +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;<br/> +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus<br/> +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go<br/> +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm.<br/> +Alone return he by his witless way;<br/> +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee,<br/> +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark<br/> +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader!<br/> +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words.<br/> +I did believe I never should return. +</p> + +<p> +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times<br/> +Security hast render’d me, and drawn<br/> +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d,<br/> +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme.<br/> +And if our onward going be denied,<br/> +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” +</p> + +<p> +My liege, who thither had conducted me,<br/> +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none<br/> +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high<br/> +Authority permitted. But do thou<br/> +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit<br/> +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d<br/> +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, departs the sire benevolent,<br/> +And quits me. Hesitating I remain<br/> +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,<br/> +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once<br/> +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates<br/> +By those our adversaries on the breast<br/> +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d<br/> +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground<br/> +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d<br/> +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake:<br/> +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”<br/> +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think<br/> +No ground of terror: in this trial I<br/> +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within<br/> +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new,<br/> +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,<br/> +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch<br/> +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now<br/> +On this side of its entrance, down the steep,<br/> +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes<br/> +One whose strong might can open us this land.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IX"></a>CANTO IX</h2> + +<p> +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks<br/> +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,<br/> +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn,<br/> +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one<br/> +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye<br/> +Not far could lead him through the sable air,<br/> +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves<br/> +We win this fight”—thus he began—” if not—<br/> +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long<br/> +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” +</p> + +<p> +I noted, how the sequel of his words<br/> +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake<br/> +Agreed not with the first. But not the less<br/> +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew<br/> +To import worse perchance, than that he held,<br/> +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any<br/> +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth<br/> +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain<br/> +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied,<br/> +“It chances, that among us any makes<br/> +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true<br/> +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell<br/> +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades<br/> +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh<br/> +Was naked of me, when within these walls<br/> +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit<br/> +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place<br/> +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d<br/> +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road<br/> +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.<br/> +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round<br/> +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now<br/> +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more<br/> +He added: but I hold it not in mind,<br/> +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower<br/> +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top.<br/> +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen<br/> +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood:<br/> +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d;<br/> +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d<br/> +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept<br/> +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. +</p> + +<p> +He knowing well the miserable hags<br/> +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake:<br/> +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left<br/> +This is Megaera; on the right hand she,<br/> +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone<br/> +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d<br/> +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves<br/> +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d,<br/> +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.<br/> +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant<br/> +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d.<br/> +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took<br/> +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep<br/> +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire<br/> +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return<br/> +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said,<br/> +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round,<br/> +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own<br/> +He also hid me. Ye of intellect<br/> +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d<br/> +Under close texture of the mystic strain! +</p> + +<p> +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves<br/> +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made<br/> +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind<br/> +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,<br/> +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might,<br/> +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls<br/> +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps<br/> +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. +</p> + +<p> +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct<br/> +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,<br/> +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs<br/> +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave<br/> +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one<br/> +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits<br/> +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one<br/> +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.<br/> +He, from his face removing the gross air,<br/> +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone<br/> +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d<br/> +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide<br/> +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand<br/> +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full<br/> +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate<br/> +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat<br/> +Open without impediment it flew. +</p> + +<p> +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!”<br/> +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,<br/> +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence<br/> +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will<br/> +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft<br/> +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?<br/> +What profits at the fays to but the horn?<br/> +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence<br/> +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way,<br/> +And syllable to us spake none, but wore<br/> +The semblance of a man by other care<br/> +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him<br/> +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps<br/> +Toward that territory mov’d, secure<br/> +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d<br/> +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn<br/> +What state a fortress like to that might hold,<br/> +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around,<br/> +And see on every part wide-stretching space<br/> +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. +</p> + +<p> +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,<br/> +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf,<br/> +That closes Italy and laves her bounds,<br/> +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;<br/> +So was it here, save what in horror here<br/> +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames,<br/> +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d,<br/> +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. +</p> + +<p> +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath<br/> +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans,<br/> +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d<br/> +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear<br/> +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied<br/> +By every sect their followers; and much more,<br/> +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like<br/> +With like is buried; and the monuments<br/> +Are different in degrees of heat. “This said,<br/> +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d<br/> +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.X"></a>CANTO X</h2> + +<p> +Now by a secret pathway we proceed,<br/> +Between the walls, that hem the region round,<br/> +And the tormented souls: my master first,<br/> +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”<br/> +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs<br/> +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,<br/> +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,<br/> +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?<br/> +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none<br/> +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake<br/> +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here<br/> +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring<br/> +Their bodies, which above they now have left.<br/> +The cemetery on this part obtain<br/> +With Epicurus all his followers,<br/> +Who with the body make the spirit die.<br/> +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon<br/> +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish,<br/> +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:<br/> +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart<br/> +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,<br/> +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire<br/> +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!<br/> +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance<br/> +Declares the place of thy nativity<br/> +To be that noble land, with which perchance<br/> +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound<br/> +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear<br/> +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side<br/> +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.<br/> +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself<br/> +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all<br/> +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine<br/> +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there<br/> +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held<br/> +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him<br/> +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,<br/> +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” +</p> + +<p> +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,<br/> +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood<br/> +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” +</p> + +<p> +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d<br/> +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow<br/> +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they<br/> +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood<br/> +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad<br/> +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each +time<br/> +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art<br/> +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,<br/> +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,<br/> +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.<br/> +It look’d around, as eager to explore<br/> +If there were other with me; but perceiving<br/> +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears<br/> +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.<br/> +Led by thy lofty genius and profound,<br/> +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” +</p> + +<p> +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,<br/> +By him, who there expects me, through this clime<br/> +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son<br/> +Had in contempt.” Already had his words<br/> +And mode of punishment read me his name,<br/> +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once<br/> +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?<br/> +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye<br/> +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay<br/> +I made ere my reply aware, down fell<br/> +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom<br/> +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,<br/> +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.<br/> +“And if,” continuing the first discourse,<br/> +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,<br/> +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.<br/> +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d<br/> +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,<br/> +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.<br/> +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,<br/> +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,<br/> +Against my kin this people is so fell?” +</p> + +<p> +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied,<br/> +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—<br/> +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome<br/> +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook<br/> +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray<br/> +I stood not singly, nor without just cause<br/> +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;<br/> +But singly there I stood, when by consent<br/> +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,<br/> +The one who openly forbad the deed.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”<br/> +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,<br/> +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,<br/> +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time<br/> +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”<br/> +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:<br/> +So much of his large spendour yet imparts<br/> +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach<br/> +Or actually exist, our intellect<br/> +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state<br/> +Except what others bring us know we aught.<br/> +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all<br/> +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,<br/> +When on futurity the portals close.” +</p> + +<p> +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse<br/> +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say<br/> +To him there fallen, that his offspring still<br/> +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know,<br/> +That if from answer silent I abstain’d,<br/> +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent<br/> +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” +</p> + +<p> +But now my master summoning me back<br/> +I heard, and with more eager haste besought<br/> +The spirit to inform me, who with him<br/> +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“More than a thousand with me here are laid<br/> +Within is Frederick, second of that name,<br/> +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest<br/> +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.<br/> +But I my steps towards the ancient bard<br/> +Reverting, ruminated on the words<br/> +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,<br/> +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze<br/> +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied<br/> +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:<br/> +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard<br/> +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,”<br/> +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, +</p> + +<p> +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,<br/> +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life<br/> +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:<br/> +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space<br/> +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;<br/> +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XI"></a>CANTO XI</h2> + +<p> +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank,<br/> +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came,<br/> +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d:<br/> +And here to shun the horrible excess<br/> +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast<br/> +From the profound abyss, behind the lid<br/> +Of a great monument we stood retir’d,<br/> +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge<br/> +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew<br/> +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves<br/> +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense,<br/> +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward<br/> +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom<br/> +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find<br/> +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then:<br/> +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend!<br/> +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began,<br/> +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d,<br/> +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full<br/> +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone<br/> +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how<br/> +And for what cause in durance they abide. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,<br/> +The end is injury; and all such end<br/> +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe<br/> +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,<br/> +To God is more displeasing; and beneath<br/> +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure<br/> +Severer pang. The violent occupy<br/> +All the first circle; and because to force<br/> +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds<br/> +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d.<br/> +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man<br/> +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say<br/> +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear<br/> +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds<br/> +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes<br/> +By devastation, pillage, and the flames,<br/> +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites<br/> +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence<br/> +The torment undergo of the first round<br/> +In different herds. Man can do violence<br/> +To himself and his own blessings: and for this<br/> +He in the second round must aye deplore<br/> +With unavailing penitence his crime,<br/> +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light,<br/> +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,<br/> +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.<br/> +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart<br/> +Denying and blaspheming his high power,<br/> +And nature with her kindly law contemning.<br/> +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal<br/> +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak<br/> +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,<br/> +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust<br/> +He wins, or on another who withholds<br/> +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way<br/> +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.<br/> +Whence in the second circle have their nest<br/> +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,<br/> +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce<br/> +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,<br/> +With such vile scum as these. The other way<br/> +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that<br/> +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth<br/> +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle,<br/> +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,<br/> +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse<br/> +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm<br/> +And its inhabitants with skill exact.<br/> +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,<br/> +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,<br/> +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,<br/> +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d<br/> +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them?<br/> +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise<br/> +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,<br/> +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts<br/> +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory<br/> +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes<br/> +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will,<br/> +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness,<br/> +And how incontinence the least offends<br/> +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note<br/> +This judgment, and remember who they are,<br/> +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d,<br/> +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d<br/> +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours<br/> +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,<br/> +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt,<br/> +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.<br/> +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words<br/> +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury<br/> +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot<br/> +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply:<br/> +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear,<br/> +Clearly points out, not in one part alone,<br/> +How imitative nature takes her course<br/> +From the celestial mind and from its art:<br/> +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,<br/> +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well<br/> +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her<br/> +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads<br/> +In his instructor’s step, so that your art<br/> +Deserves the name of second in descent<br/> +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind<br/> +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning<br/> +Were the right source of life and excellence<br/> +To human kind. But in another path<br/> +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself<br/> +And in her follower thus he sets at nought,<br/> +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now<br/> +My steps on forward journey bent; for now<br/> +The Pisces play with undulating glance<br/> +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all<br/> +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space<br/> +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XII"></a>CANTO XII</h2> + +<p> +The place where to descend the precipice<br/> +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge<br/> +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. +</p> + +<p> +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream<br/> +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave,<br/> +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop;<br/> +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d<br/> +To the low level, so the headlong rock<br/> +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give<br/> +To him who from above would pass; e’en such<br/> +Into the chasm was that descent: and there<br/> +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d<br/> +The infamy of Crete, detested brood<br/> +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us<br/> +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract.<br/> +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st<br/> +The King of Athens here, who, in the world<br/> +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt!<br/> +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art,<br/> +But to behold your torments is he come.” +</p> + +<p> +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring<br/> +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow<br/> +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed<br/> +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge<br/> +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d:<br/> +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’tis well<br/> +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took<br/> +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft<br/> +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs<br/> +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep,<br/> +Guarded by the brute violence, which I<br/> +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst<br/> +Hither descended to the nether hell,<br/> +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt<br/> +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,<br/> +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil<br/> +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds<br/> +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul,<br/> +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love,<br/> +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft<br/> +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point,<br/> +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.<br/> +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood<br/> +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d,<br/> +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust!<br/> +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on<br/> +In the brief life, and in the eternal then<br/> +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld<br/> +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent,<br/> +As circling all the plain; for so my guide<br/> +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base<br/> +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d,<br/> +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. +</p> + +<p> +At seeing us descend they each one stood;<br/> +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows<br/> +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom<br/> +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come<br/> +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak<br/> +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made<br/> +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.<br/> +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” +</p> + +<p> +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this,<br/> +Who for the fair Deianira died,<br/> +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.<br/> +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down,<br/> +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d;<br/> +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around<br/> +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts<br/> +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge<br/> +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. +</p> + +<p> +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along,<br/> +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth,<br/> +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard<br/> +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view<br/> +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d:<br/> +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind<br/> +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead<br/> +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now<br/> +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,<br/> +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive,<br/> +And solitary so must needs by me<br/> +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d<br/> +By strict necessity, not by delight.<br/> +She left her joyful harpings in the sky,<br/> +Who this new office to my care consign’d.<br/> +He is no robber, no dark spirit I.<br/> +But by that virtue, which empowers my step<br/> +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray,<br/> +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure,<br/> +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey<br/> +Across, him mounted on his back; for he<br/> +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” +</p> + +<p> +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus<br/> +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide.<br/> +And if ye chance to cross another troop,<br/> +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d,<br/> +The faithful escort by our side, along<br/> +The border of the crimson-seething flood,<br/> +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. +</p> + +<p> +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow<br/> +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus:<br/> +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given<br/> +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud<br/> +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells,<br/> +And Dionysius fell, who many a year<br/> +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow<br/> +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs,<br/> +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks<br/> +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d<br/> +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d<br/> +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him<br/> +Be to thee now first leader, me but next<br/> +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space<br/> +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat<br/> +Were extant from the wave; and showing us<br/> +A spirit by itself apart retir’d,<br/> +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart,<br/> +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” +</p> + +<p> +A race I next espied, who held the head,<br/> +And even all the bust above the stream.<br/> +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well.<br/> +Thus shallow more and more the blood became,<br/> +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet;<br/> +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. +</p> + +<p> +“As ever on this side the boiling wave<br/> +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said,<br/> +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d,<br/> +It lower still and lower sinks its bed,<br/> +Till in that part it reuniting join,<br/> +Where ’tis the lot of tyranny to mourn.<br/> +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand<br/> +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth,<br/> +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts<br/> +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d<br/> +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this,<br/> +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways<br/> +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d,<br/> +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIII"></a>CANTO XIII</h2> + +<p> +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank,<br/> +We enter’d on a forest, where no track<br/> +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there<br/> +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light<br/> +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d<br/> +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns<br/> +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these,<br/> +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide<br/> +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields,<br/> +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. +</p> + +<p> +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same<br/> +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band<br/> +Drove with dire boding of their future woe.<br/> +Broad are their pennons, of the human form<br/> +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen<br/> +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings<br/> +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. +</p> + +<p> +The kind instructor in these words began:<br/> +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now<br/> +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come<br/> +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well<br/> +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,<br/> +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides<br/> +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see<br/> +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze<br/> +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d,<br/> +That I had thought so many voices came<br/> +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d,<br/> +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off<br/> +A single twig from one of those ill plants,<br/> +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,<br/> +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch,<br/> +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou +me?”<br/> +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,<br/> +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus?<br/> +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?<br/> +Men once were we, that now are rooted here.<br/> +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been<br/> +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green,<br/> +That burning at one end from the’ other sends<br/> +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind<br/> +That forces out its way, so burst at once,<br/> +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. +</p> + +<p> +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one<br/> +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied:<br/> +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d<br/> +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d,<br/> +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand.<br/> +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief,<br/> +Prompted him to this deed, which even now<br/> +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast;<br/> +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,<br/> +In the upper world (for thither to return<br/> +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” +</p> + +<p> +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied<br/> +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech<br/> +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge<br/> +A little longer, in the snare detain’d,<br/> +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held<br/> +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards,<br/> +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,<br/> +That besides me, into his inmost breast<br/> +Scarce any other could admittance find.<br/> +The faith I bore to my high charge was such,<br/> +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins.<br/> +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes<br/> +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest<br/> +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all;<br/> +And to Augustus they so spread the flame,<br/> +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes.<br/> +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought<br/> +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,<br/> +Just as I was, unjust toward myself.<br/> +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,<br/> +That never faith I broke to my liege lord,<br/> +Who merited such honour; and of you,<br/> +If any to the world indeed return,<br/> +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies<br/> +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” +</p> + +<p> +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words<br/> +Were ended, then to me the bard began:<br/> +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,<br/> +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied:<br/> +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er<br/> +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power<br/> +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee<br/> +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet<br/> +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare,<br/> +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;<br/> +And whether any ever from such frame<br/> +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon<br/> +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; +</p> + +<p> +Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs<br/> +The fierce soul from the body, by itself<br/> +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf<br/> +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls,<br/> +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance<br/> +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,<br/> +It rises to a sapling, growing thence<br/> +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves<br/> +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain<br/> +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come<br/> +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them<br/> +We may again be clad; for what a man<br/> +Takes from himself it is not just he have.<br/> +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout<br/> +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,<br/> +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” +</p> + +<p> +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk<br/> +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us<br/> +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives<br/> +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place<br/> +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs<br/> +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came<br/> +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,<br/> +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood.<br/> +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee +death!”<br/> +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay<br/> +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed<br/> +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.”<br/> +And then, for that perchance no longer breath<br/> +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush<br/> +One group he made. Behind them was the wood<br/> +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,<br/> +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash.<br/> +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,<br/> +And having rent him piecemeal bore away<br/> +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand,<br/> +And led me to the thicket, which in vain<br/> +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo<br/> +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,”<br/> +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen?<br/> +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” +</p> + +<p> +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake:<br/> +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points<br/> +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time<br/> +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me<br/> +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up,<br/> +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree<br/> +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt,<br/> +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d,<br/> +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art<br/> +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not<br/> +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him,<br/> +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls<br/> +Upon the ashes left by Attila,<br/> +Had labour’d without profit of their toil.<br/> +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIV"></a>CANTO XIV</h2> + +<p> +Soon as the charity of native land<br/> +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves<br/> +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now<br/> +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence<br/> +We came, which from the third the second round<br/> +Divides, and where of justice is display’d<br/> +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen<br/> +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next<br/> +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed<br/> +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round<br/> +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood<br/> +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge,<br/> +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide<br/> +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most<br/> +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. +</p> + +<p> +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh ! how shouldst thou be fear’d<br/> +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! +</p> + +<p> +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,<br/> +All weeping piteously, to different laws<br/> +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine,<br/> +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d<br/> +Incessantly around; the latter tribe,<br/> +More numerous, those fewer who beneath<br/> +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. +</p> + +<p> +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down<br/> +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow<br/> +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d.<br/> +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son<br/> +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band<br/> +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground<br/> +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop<br/> +To trample on the soil; for easier thus<br/> +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone;<br/> +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith<br/> +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove<br/> +The viands, doubly to augment the pain.<br/> +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,<br/> +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off<br/> +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began:<br/> +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st,<br/> +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth<br/> +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who<br/> +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not<br/> +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,<br/> +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” +</p> + +<p> +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d<br/> +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was<br/> +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove<br/> +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire<br/> +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day<br/> +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out<br/> +At their black smithy labouring by turns<br/> +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;<br/> +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried<br/> +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts<br/> +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might,<br/> +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d<br/> +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus!<br/> +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride<br/> +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage,<br/> +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” +</p> + +<p> +Next turning round to me with milder lip<br/> +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one,<br/> +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,<br/> +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,<br/> +And sets his high omnipotence at nought.<br/> +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood<br/> +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.<br/> +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet<br/> +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood<br/> +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d<br/> +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound<br/> +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts<br/> +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs<br/> +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out<br/> +Among the sinful women; so ran this<br/> +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank<br/> +Stone-built, and either margin at its side,<br/> +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate<br/> +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none<br/> +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,<br/> +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d,<br/> +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,<br/> +That having giv’n me appetite to know,<br/> +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. +</p> + +<p> +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began,<br/> +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d,<br/> +Under whose monarch in old times the world<br/> +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there,<br/> +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,<br/> +Deserted now like a forbidden thing.<br/> +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse,<br/> +Chose for the secret cradle of her son;<br/> +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts<br/> +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright<br/> +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns<br/> +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome<br/> +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold<br/> +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast<br/> +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.<br/> +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel,<br/> +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which<br/> +Than on the other more erect he stands,<br/> +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;<br/> +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d<br/> +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course<br/> +Thus far precipitated down the rock<br/> +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;<br/> +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence<br/> +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all,<br/> +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself<br/> +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice<br/> +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now<br/> +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied:<br/> +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part<br/> +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left<br/> +Descending to the nethermost, not yet<br/> +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.<br/> +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,<br/> +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams<br/> +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one<br/> +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower,<br/> +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear.<br/> +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d<br/> +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see,<br/> +But not within this hollow, in the place,<br/> +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,<br/> +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.”<br/> +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood.<br/> +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give<br/> +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;<br/> +For over them all vapour is extinct.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XV"></a>CANTO XV</h2> + +<p> +One of the solid margins bears us now<br/> +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream<br/> +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire<br/> +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear<br/> +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back<br/> +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide<br/> +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs<br/> +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns<br/> +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt<br/> +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds,<br/> +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these<br/> +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er<br/> +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood<br/> +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round<br/> +I might not have discern’d it, when we met<br/> +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. +</p> + +<p> +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide<br/> +One eyes another under a new moon,<br/> +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen,<br/> +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. +</p> + +<p> +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe,<br/> +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt<br/> +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” +</p> + +<p> +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm,<br/> +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks,<br/> +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not<br/> +But I remember’d him; and towards his face<br/> +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto!<br/> +And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son!<br/> +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto<br/> +Latini but a little space with thee<br/> +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can,<br/> +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,<br/> +That I here seat me with thee, I consent;<br/> +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“O son!” said he, “ whoever of this throng<br/> +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,<br/> +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire<br/> +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close<br/> +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin<br/> +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” +</p> + +<p> +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread<br/> +On equal ground with him, but held my head<br/> +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. +</p> + +<p> +“What chance or destiny,” thus be began,<br/> +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below?<br/> +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” +</p> + +<p> +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life<br/> +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost,<br/> +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d.<br/> +But yester-morn I left it: then once more<br/> +Into that vale returning, him I met;<br/> +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star,<br/> +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:<br/> +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d.<br/> +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d,<br/> +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I<br/> +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work.<br/> +But that ungrateful and malignant race,<br/> +Who in old times came down from Fesole,<br/> +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,<br/> +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.<br/> +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs<br/> +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.<br/> +Old fame reports them in the world for blind,<br/> +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well:<br/> +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee<br/> +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,<br/> +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d<br/> +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far<br/> +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole<br/> +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,<br/> +If any such yet spring on their rank bed,<br/> +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted<br/> +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d,<br/> +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied,<br/> +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet<br/> +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind<br/> +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart<br/> +The dear, benign, paternal image, such<br/> +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me<br/> +The way for man to win eternity;<br/> +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves,<br/> +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,<br/> +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down:<br/> +And with another text to comment on<br/> +For her I keep it, the celestial dame,<br/> +Who will know all, if I to her arrive.<br/> +This only would I have thee clearly note:<br/> +That so my conscience have no plea against me;<br/> +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d.<br/> +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.<br/> +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,<br/> +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right<br/> +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake:<br/> +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” +</p> + +<p> +I not the less still on my way proceed,<br/> +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire<br/> +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. +</p> + +<p> +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied,<br/> +“But of the rest silence may best beseem.<br/> +Time would not serve us for report so long.<br/> +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,<br/> +Men of great learning and no less renown,<br/> +By one same sin polluted in the world.<br/> +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son<br/> +Francesco herds among that wretched throng:<br/> +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch<br/> +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen,<br/> +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d<br/> +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where<br/> +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add,<br/> +But must from farther speech and onward way<br/> +Alike desist, for yonder I behold<br/> +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.<br/> +A company, with whom I may not sort,<br/> +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee,<br/> +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” +</p> + +<p> +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those,<br/> +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed<br/> +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d,<br/> +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVI"></a>CANTO XVI</h2> + +<p> +Now came I where the water’s din was heard,<br/> +As down it fell into the other round,<br/> +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:<br/> +When forth together issu’d from a troop,<br/> +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm,<br/> +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came,<br/> +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay!<br/> +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem<br/> +To be some inmate of our evil land.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs,<br/> +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!<br/> +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. +</p> + +<p> +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d,<br/> +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake;<br/> +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:<br/> +And were ’t not for the nature of the place,<br/> +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,<br/> +That haste had better suited thee than them.” +</p> + +<p> +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail,<br/> +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three<br/> +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel.<br/> +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil,<br/> +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold<br/> +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;<br/> +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance<br/> +At me directed, so that opposite<br/> +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. +</p> + +<p> +“If misery of this drear wilderness,”<br/> +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer<br/> +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us<br/> +And our entreaties, let our great renown<br/> +Incline thee to inform us who thou art,<br/> +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d<br/> +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st<br/> +My steps pursuing, naked though he be<br/> +And reft of all, was of more high estate<br/> +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste<br/> +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d,<br/> +Who in his lifetime many a noble act<br/> +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword.<br/> +The other, next to me that beats the sand,<br/> +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,<br/> +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself<br/> +Who in this torment do partake with them,<br/> +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife<br/> +Of savage temper, more than aught beside<br/> +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire<br/> +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight<br/> +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,<br/> +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear<br/> +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire,<br/> +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. +</p> + +<p> +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more,<br/> +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom<br/> +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord<br/> +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect<br/> +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.<br/> +I am a countryman of yours, who still<br/> +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard<br/> +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall<br/> +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide<br/> +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far<br/> +As to the centre first I downward tend.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,”<br/> +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame<br/> +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,<br/> +If courtesy and valour, as they wont,<br/> +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean?<br/> +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail,<br/> +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,<br/> +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains,<br/> +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee<br/> +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!”<br/> +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they<br/> +All three, who for an answer took my words,<br/> +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth<br/> +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,”<br/> +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily<br/> +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,<br/> +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!<br/> +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,<br/> +Returning to behold the radiant stars,<br/> +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,<br/> +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift<br/> +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. +</p> + +<p> +Not in so short a time might one have said<br/> +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide<br/> +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space<br/> +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound<br/> +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce<br/> +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the river, that holds on its course<br/> +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,<br/> +On the left side of Apennine, toward<br/> +The east, which Acquacheta higher up<br/> +They call, ere it descend into the vale,<br/> +At Forli by that name no longer known,<br/> +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on<br/> +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice,<br/> +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;<br/> +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,<br/> +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,<br/> +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. +</p> + +<p> +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round,<br/> +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take<br/> +The painted leopard. This when I had all<br/> +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade)<br/> +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him.<br/> +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink<br/> +Standing few paces distant, cast it down<br/> +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,”<br/> +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange<br/> +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye<br/> +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use<br/> +With those who look not at the deed alone,<br/> +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! +</p> + +<p> +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect,<br/> +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof<br/> +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth,<br/> +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,<br/> +A man, if possible, should bar his lip;<br/> +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.<br/> +But silence here were vain; and by these notes<br/> +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee,<br/> +So may they favour find to latest times!<br/> +That through the gross and murky air I spied<br/> +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d<br/> +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise<br/> +As one returns, who hath been down to loose<br/> +An anchor grappled fast against some rock,<br/> +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,<br/> +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting!<br/> +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls<br/> +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth<br/> +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d,<br/> +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore,<br/> +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d,<br/> +His head and upper part expos’d on land,<br/> +But laid not on the shore his bestial train.<br/> +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore,<br/> +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;<br/> +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws<br/> +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast,<br/> +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes<br/> +And orbits. Colours variegated more<br/> +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state<br/> +With interchangeable embroidery wove,<br/> +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom.<br/> +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore,<br/> +Stands part in water, part upon the land;<br/> +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,<br/> +The beaver settles watching for his prey;<br/> +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock,<br/> +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void<br/> +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork,<br/> +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide:<br/> +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart,<br/> +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat toward the right our downward course<br/> +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame<br/> +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge<br/> +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,<br/> +A little further on mine eye beholds<br/> +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand<br/> +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake:<br/> +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend<br/> +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark<br/> +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.<br/> +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime<br/> +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe<br/> +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone<br/> +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d<br/> +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe<br/> +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs.<br/> +Against the vapours and the torrid soil<br/> +Alternately their shifting hands they plied.<br/> +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply<br/> +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore<br/> +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. +</p> + +<p> +Noting the visages of some, who lay<br/> +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,<br/> +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d,<br/> +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch<br/> +With colours and with emblems various mark’d,<br/> +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. +</p> + +<p> +And when amongst them looking round I came,<br/> +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,<br/> +That wore a lion’s countenance and port.<br/> +Then still my sight pursuing its career,<br/> +Another I beheld, than blood more red.<br/> +A goose display of whiter wing than curd.<br/> +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine<br/> +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus:<br/> +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,<br/> +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here<br/> +Vitaliano on my left shall sit.<br/> +A Paduan with these Florentines am I.<br/> +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming<br/> +“O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch<br/> +With the three beaks will bring!” This said, he writh’d<br/> +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox<br/> +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay<br/> +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,<br/> +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +My guide already seated on the haunch<br/> +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus<br/> +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold.<br/> +Down such a steep flight must we now descend!<br/> +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail<br/> +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” +</p> + +<p> +As one, who hath an ague fit so near,<br/> +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he<br/> +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade;<br/> +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.<br/> +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes<br/> +The servant bold in presence of his lord. +</p> + +<p> +I settled me upon those shoulders huge,<br/> +And would have said, but that the words to aid<br/> +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” +</p> + +<p> +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d,<br/> +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,<br/> +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:<br/> +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres<br/> +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.<br/> +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” +</p> + +<p> +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land,<br/> +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d,<br/> +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round<br/> +There where the breast had been, his forked tail.<br/> +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d,<br/> +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. +</p> + +<p> +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton<br/> +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,<br/> +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;<br/> +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d,<br/> +By liquefaction of the scalded wax,<br/> +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins,<br/> +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!”<br/> +Than was my dread, when round me on each part<br/> +The air I view’d, and other object none<br/> +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels<br/> +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me,<br/> +But that the wind, arising to my face,<br/> +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right<br/> +I heard the cataract beneath us leap<br/> +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore,<br/> +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge:<br/> +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:<br/> +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs,<br/> +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before,<br/> +By the dread torments that on every side<br/> +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. +</p> + +<p> +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,<br/> +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair<br/> +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!”<br/> +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky<br/> +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits<br/> +At distance from his lord in angry mood;<br/> +So Geryon lighting places us on foot<br/> +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock,<br/> +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith<br/> +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVIII"></a>CANTO XVIII</h2> + +<p> +There is a place within the depths of hell<br/> +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d<br/> +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep<br/> +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst<br/> +Of that abominable region, yawns<br/> +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame<br/> +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains,<br/> +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base<br/> +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms<br/> +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. +</p> + +<p> +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss<br/> +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence<br/> +Affording to the space within, so here<br/> +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses<br/> +E’en from their threshold to the brink without,<br/> +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base<br/> +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles<br/> +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,<br/> +That in one bound collected cuts them off.<br/> +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves<br/> +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left<br/> +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. +</p> + +<p> +On our right hand new misery I saw,<br/> +New pains, new executioners of wrath,<br/> +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below<br/> +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came,<br/> +Meeting our faces from the middle point,<br/> +With us beyond but with a larger stride.<br/> +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns<br/> +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid<br/> +The thronging multitudes, their means devise<br/> +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side<br/> +All front toward the castle, and approach<br/> +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. +</p> + +<p> +Each divers way along the grisly rock,<br/> +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge,<br/> +That on their back unmercifully smote.<br/> +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe!<br/> +None for the second waited nor the third. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight<br/> +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet<br/> +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze<br/> +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind<br/> +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk<br/> +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,<br/> +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.<br/> +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d:<br/> +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,<br/> +Unless thy features do belie thee much,<br/> +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee<br/> +Into this bitter seas’ning? “ He replied:<br/> +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words.<br/> +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls<br/> +The world I once inhabited, constrains me.<br/> +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola<br/> +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame<br/> +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone<br/> +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn<br/> +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d<br/> +That not so many tongues this day are taught,<br/> +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream,<br/> +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase.<br/> +And if of that securer proof thou need,<br/> +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” +</p> + +<p> +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong<br/> +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here<br/> +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d<br/> +My escort, and few paces thence we came<br/> +To where a rock forth issued from the bank.<br/> +That easily ascended, to the right<br/> +Upon its splinter turning, we depart<br/> +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d,<br/> +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass<br/> +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said,<br/> +“And let these others miserable, now<br/> +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld,<br/> +For that together they with us have walk’d.” +</p> + +<p> +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came<br/> +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest,<br/> +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide,<br/> +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d:<br/> +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends,<br/> +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.<br/> +How yet the regal aspect he retains!<br/> +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won<br/> +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle<br/> +His passage thither led him, when those bold<br/> +And pitiless women had slain all their males.<br/> +There he with tokens and fair witching words<br/> +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young,<br/> +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d.<br/> +Impregnated he left her there forlorn.<br/> +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.<br/> +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged.<br/> +All bear him company, who like deceit<br/> +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know<br/> +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those<br/> +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come<br/> +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path<br/> +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. +</p> + +<p> +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,<br/> +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds,<br/> +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves<br/> +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf<br/> +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung,<br/> +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. +</p> + +<p> +So hollow is the depth, that from no part,<br/> +Save on the summit of the rocky span,<br/> +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came;<br/> +And thence I saw, within the foss below,<br/> +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d<br/> +Draff of the human body. There beneath<br/> +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d<br/> +One with his head so grim’d, ’twere hard to deem,<br/> +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried:<br/> +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me,<br/> +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied,<br/> +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks,<br/> +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.<br/> +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” +</p> + +<p> +Then beating on his brain these words he spake:<br/> +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk,<br/> +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” +</p> + +<p> +My leader thus: “A little further stretch<br/> +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note<br/> +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan,<br/> +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails,<br/> +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet.<br/> +Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip<br/> +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d,<br/> +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’<br/> +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIX"></a>CANTO XIX</h2> + +<p> +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,<br/> +His wretched followers! who the things of God,<br/> +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,<br/> +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute<br/> +For gold and silver in adultery!<br/> +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours<br/> +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault<br/> +We now had mounted, where the rock impends<br/> +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. +</p> + +<p> +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,<br/> +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth,<br/> +And in the evil world, how just a meed<br/> +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! +</p> + +<p> +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides<br/> +And in its bottom full of apertures,<br/> +All equal in their width, and circular each,<br/> +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d<br/> +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d<br/> +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams,<br/> +One of the which I brake, some few years past,<br/> +To save a whelming infant; and be this<br/> +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts<br/> +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth<br/> +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet<br/> +And of the legs high upward as the calf<br/> +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot<br/> +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints<br/> +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt<br/> +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame,<br/> +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along<br/> +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;<br/> +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. +</p> + +<p> +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest<br/> +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom<br/> +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. +</p> + +<p> +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I<br/> +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,<br/> +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best.<br/> +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit<br/> +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.”<br/> +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d,<br/> +And on our left descended to the depth,<br/> +A narrow strait and perforated close.<br/> +Nor from his side my leader set me down,<br/> +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb<br/> +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art,<br/> +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake<br/> +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began,<br/> +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” +</p> + +<p> +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive<br/> +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d,<br/> +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. +</p> + +<p> +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there?<br/> +Already standest there, O Boniface!<br/> +By many a year the writing play’d me false.<br/> +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,<br/> +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take<br/> +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift<br/> +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d<br/> +In mockery, nor know what to reply,<br/> +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick,<br/> +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,<br/> +And sighing next in woeful accent spake:<br/> +“What then of me requirest?” If to know<br/> +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou<br/> +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn<br/> +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d,<br/> +And of a she-bear was indeed the son,<br/> +So eager to advance my whelps, that there<br/> +My having in my purse above I stow’d,<br/> +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d<br/> +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt<br/> +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie<br/> +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them<br/> +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,<br/> +For whom I took thee, when so hastily<br/> +I question’d. But already longer time<br/> +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus<br/> +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand<br/> +Planted with fiery feet. For after him,<br/> +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,<br/> +From forth the west, a shepherd without law,<br/> +Fated to cover both his form and mine.<br/> +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom<br/> +In Maccabees we read; and favour such<br/> +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d,<br/> +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” +</p> + +<p> +I know not if I here too far presum’d,<br/> +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now,<br/> +What treasures from St. Peter at the first<br/> +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys<br/> +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more<br/> +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest<br/> +Or gold or silver of Matthias took,<br/> +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place<br/> +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then;<br/> +Thy punishment of right is merited:<br/> +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,<br/> +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d.<br/> +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not,<br/> +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet<br/> +Severer speech might use. Your avarice<br/> +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot<br/> +Treading the good, and raising bad men up.<br/> +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist<br/> +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,<br/> +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld,<br/> +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth,<br/> +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,<br/> +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.<br/> +Of gold and silver ye have made your god,<br/> +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater,<br/> +But he that worships one, a hundred ye?<br/> +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth,<br/> +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,<br/> +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath<br/> +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang<br/> +Spinning on either sole. I do believe<br/> +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d<br/> +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound<br/> +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms<br/> +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me<br/> +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. +</p> + +<p> +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close,<br/> +Till to the summit of the rock we came,<br/> +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.<br/> +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d<br/> +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path<br/> +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. +</p> + +<p> +Thence to my view another vale appear’d +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XX"></a>CANTO XX</h2> + +<p> +And now the verse proceeds to torments new,<br/> +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain<br/> +Of the first song, whose awful theme records<br/> +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d<br/> +Into the depth, that open’d to my view,<br/> +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld<br/> +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,<br/> +In silence weeping: such their step as walk<br/> +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. +</p> + +<p> +As on them more direct mine eye descends,<br/> +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d<br/> +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance<br/> +Was from the reins averted: and because<br/> +None might before him look, they were compell’d<br/> +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps<br/> +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d,<br/> +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God<br/> +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long<br/> +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld<br/> +Near me our form distorted in such guise,<br/> +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face<br/> +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock<br/> +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d:<br/> +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest?<br/> +Here pity most doth show herself alive,<br/> +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his,<br/> +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?<br/> +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man,<br/> +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all<br/> +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest?<br/> +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less<br/> +Fell ruining far as to Minos down,<br/> +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes<br/> +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far<br/> +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks,<br/> +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note,<br/> +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became<br/> +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then<br/> +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike<br/> +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,<br/> +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. +</p> + +<p> +“Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes.<br/> +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white,<br/> +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath,<br/> +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars<br/> +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. +</p> + +<p> +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread<br/> +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair<br/> +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d<br/> +Through many regions, and at length her seat<br/> +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space<br/> +My words detain thy audience. When her sire<br/> +From life departed, and in servitude<br/> +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d,<br/> +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world.<br/> +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land<br/> +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp,<br/> +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in,<br/> +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills,<br/> +Methinks, and more, water between the vale<br/> +Camonica and Garda and the height<br/> +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot<br/> +At midway of that lake, where he who bears<br/> +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him<br/> +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each<br/> +Passing that way his benediction give.<br/> +A garrison of goodly site and strong<br/> +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d<br/> +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore<br/> +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er<br/> +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er<br/> +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath<br/> +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course<br/> +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more<br/> +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last<br/> +Reaching Governo into Po he falls.<br/> +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat<br/> +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh<br/> +It covers, pestilent in summer oft.<br/> +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw<br/> +’Midst of the fen a territory waste<br/> +And naked of inhabitants. To shun<br/> +All human converse, here she with her slaves<br/> +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left<br/> +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes,<br/> +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place<br/> +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d<br/> +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones<br/> +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake,<br/> +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,<br/> +Nor ask’d another omen for the name,<br/> +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,<br/> +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit<br/> +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear<br/> +Henceforth another origin assign’d<br/> +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,<br/> +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words<br/> +So certain, that all else shall be to me<br/> +As embers lacking life. But now of these,<br/> +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see<br/> +Any that merit more especial note.<br/> +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek<br/> +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time<br/> +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce<br/> +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he<br/> +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign<br/> +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d<br/> +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,<br/> +In which majestic measure well thou know’st,<br/> +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins<br/> +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,<br/> +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. +</p> + +<p> +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark,<br/> +Who now were willing, he had tended still<br/> +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. +</p> + +<p> +“See next the wretches, who the needle left,<br/> +The shuttle and the spindle, and became<br/> +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought<br/> +With images and herbs. But onward now:<br/> +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine<br/> +On either hemisphere, touching the wave<br/> +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight<br/> +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well:<br/> +For she good service did thee in the gloom<br/> +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXI"></a>CANTO XXI</h2> + +<p> +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,<br/> +The which my drama cares not to rehearse,<br/> +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood<br/> +To view another gap, within the round<br/> +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. +</p> + +<p> +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. +</p> + +<p> +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils<br/> +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear<br/> +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time<br/> +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while<br/> +His bark one builds anew, another stops<br/> +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage;<br/> +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop;<br/> +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,<br/> +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent<br/> +So not by force of fire but art divine<br/> +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round<br/> +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld,<br/> +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge,<br/> +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell<br/> +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there<br/> +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide<br/> +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place,<br/> +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one,<br/> +Impatient to behold that which beheld<br/> +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,<br/> +That he his flight delays not for the view.<br/> +Behind me I discern’d a devil black,<br/> +That running, up advanc’d along the rock.<br/> +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!<br/> +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings<br/> +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread!<br/> +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp<br/> +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch<br/> +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d +fiends!<br/> +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him<br/> +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.<br/> +That land hath store of such. All men are there,<br/> +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’<br/> +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” +</p> + +<p> +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d,<br/> +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d<br/> +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank<br/> +And forthwith writing to the surface rose.<br/> +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,<br/> +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here<br/> +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.<br/> +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not,<br/> +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said,<br/> +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,<br/> +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here;<br/> +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.”<br/> +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,<br/> +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down<br/> +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. +</p> + +<p> +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry,<br/> +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock<br/> +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force<br/> +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not:<br/> +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst<br/> +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head<br/> +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier,<br/> +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. +</p> + +<p> +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth<br/> +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly<br/> +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d<br/> +Those from beneath the arch, and against him<br/> +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud:<br/> +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time<br/> +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one,<br/> +Who having heard my words, decide he then<br/> +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud,<br/> +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d,<br/> +The others standing firm, and as he came,<br/> +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come<br/> +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”<br/> +My teacher answered, “without will divine<br/> +And destiny propitious? Pass we then<br/> +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead<br/> +Another through this savage wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop<br/> +The instrument of torture at his feet,<br/> +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power<br/> +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou!<br/> +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit<br/> +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” +</p> + +<p> +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends<br/> +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d<br/> +Lest they should break the compact they had made.<br/> +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw<br/> +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant<br/> +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. +</p> + +<p> +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes<br/> +With fixt and motionless observance bent<br/> +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks<br/> +Protruding, one the other thus bespake:<br/> +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” +</p> + +<p> +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide,<br/> +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake:<br/> +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us<br/> +He added: “Further footing to your step<br/> +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base<br/> +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed,<br/> +Up by this cavern go: not distant far,<br/> +Another rock will yield you passage safe.<br/> +Yesterday, later by five hours than now,<br/> +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d<br/> +The circuit of their course, since here the way<br/> +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch<br/> +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy<br/> +If any on the surface bask. With them<br/> +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.<br/> +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried,<br/> +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!<br/> +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.<br/> +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,<br/> +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce,<br/> +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.<br/> +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these,<br/> +In safety lead them, where the other crag<br/> +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “O master! what a sight is there!<br/> +Ah! without escort, journey we alone,<br/> +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.<br/> +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark<br/> +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl<br/> +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied:<br/> +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will,<br/> +Gnarl on: ’tis but in token of their spite<br/> +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” +</p> + +<p> +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each<br/> +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,<br/> +Toward their leader for a signal looking,<br/> +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXII"></a>CANTO XXII</h2> + +<p> +It hath been heretofore my chance to see<br/> +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,<br/> +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,<br/> +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;<br/> +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers<br/> +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,<br/> +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,<br/> +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,<br/> +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,<br/> +And with inventions multiform, our own,<br/> +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er<br/> +To such a strange recorder I beheld,<br/> +In evolution moving, horse nor foot,<br/> +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. +</p> + +<p> +With the ten demons on our way we went;<br/> +Ah fearful company! but in the church<br/> +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. +</p> + +<p> +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark<br/> +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those<br/> +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign<br/> +To mariners, heave high their arched backs,<br/> +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save<br/> +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,<br/> +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,<br/> +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat<br/> +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,<br/> +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,<br/> +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon<br/> +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they<br/> +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet<br/> +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,<br/> +As it befalls that oft one frog remains,<br/> +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,<br/> +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d<br/> +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,<br/> +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each<br/> +Already by their names I knew, so well<br/> +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d<br/> +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!<br/> +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”<br/> +Shouted together all the cursed crew. +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,<br/> +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand<br/> +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side<br/> +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom<br/> +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain<br/> +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,<br/> +For she had borne me to a losel vile,<br/> +A spendthrift of his substance and himself.<br/> +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,<br/> +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,<br/> +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” +</p> + +<p> +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk<br/> +Issued on either side, as from a boar,<br/> +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws<br/> +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,<br/> +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,<br/> +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”<br/> +Then added, turning to my guide his face,<br/> +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,<br/> +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:<br/> +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;<br/> +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land<br/> +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,<br/> +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;<br/> +So were I under shelter now with him!<br/> +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. +</p> + +<p> +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,<br/> +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,<br/> +And mangled bore away the sinewy part.<br/> +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath<br/> +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief,<br/> +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow<br/> +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,<br/> +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,<br/> +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:<br/> +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap<br/> +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— +</p> + +<p> +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,<br/> +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,<br/> +Who had his master’s enemies in hand,<br/> +And us’d them so that they commend him well.<br/> +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.<br/> +So he reports: and in each other charge<br/> +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part<br/> +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd<br/> +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.<br/> +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue<br/> +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold<br/> +That other, how he grins! More would I say,<br/> +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” +</p> + +<p> +Their captain then to Farfarello turning,<br/> +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,<br/> +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— +</p> + +<p> +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus<br/> +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits<br/> +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.<br/> +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,<br/> +So that no vengeance they may fear from them,<br/> +And I, remaining in this self-same place,<br/> +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,<br/> +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so<br/> +Our custom is to call each other up.” +</p> + +<p> +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,<br/> +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,<br/> +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store<br/> +Of nice-wove toils; “ Mischief forsooth extreme,<br/> +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” +</p> + +<p> +No longer Alichino then refrain’d,<br/> +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:<br/> +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot<br/> +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat<br/> +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let<br/> +The bank be as a shield, that we may see<br/> +If singly thou prevail against us all.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! +</p> + +<p> +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore,<br/> +He first, who was the hardest to persuade.<br/> +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,<br/> +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap<br/> +Escaping disappointed their resolve. +</p> + +<p> +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,<br/> +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit<br/> +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” +</p> + +<p> +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d<br/> +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath,<br/> +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:<br/> +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives<br/> +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he<br/> +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery<br/> +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew<br/> +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d;<br/> +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d<br/> +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke<br/> +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d<br/> +A goshawk able to rend well his foe;<br/> +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat<br/> +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain<br/> +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued<br/> +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,<br/> +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d<br/> +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.<br/> +They, to their post on each side speedily<br/> +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,<br/> +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:<br/> +And we departing left them to that broil. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIII"></a>CANTO XXIII</h2> + +<p> +In silence and in solitude we went,<br/> +One first, the other following his steps,<br/> +As minor friars journeying on their road. +</p> + +<p> +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse<br/> +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told<br/> +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell.<br/> +For language hath not sounds more like in sense,<br/> +Than are these chances, if the origin<br/> +And end of each be heedfully compar’d.<br/> +And as one thought bursts from another forth,<br/> +So afterward from that another sprang,<br/> +Which added doubly to my former fear.<br/> +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been<br/> +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete,<br/> +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then<br/> +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell<br/> +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound<br/> +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” +</p> + +<p> +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all<br/> +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. +</p> + +<p> +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily<br/> +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread<br/> +Those evil talons. Even now behind<br/> +They urge us: quick imagination works<br/> +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass,<br/> +I should not sooner draw unto myself<br/> +Thy outward image, than I now imprint<br/> +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts<br/> +Presented before mine, with similar act<br/> +And count’nance similar, so that from both<br/> +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast<br/> +Incline so much, that we may thence descend<br/> +Into the other chasm, we shall escape<br/> +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” +</p> + +<p> +He had not spoke his purpose to the end,<br/> +When I from far beheld them with spread wings<br/> +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide<br/> +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep<br/> +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees<br/> +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe<br/> +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him<br/> +Than of herself, that but a single vest<br/> +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach<br/> +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock,<br/> +Which closes on one part the other chasm. +</p> + +<p> +Never ran water with such hurrying pace<br/> +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel,<br/> +When nearest it approaches to the spokes,<br/> +As then along that edge my master ran,<br/> +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,<br/> +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet<br/> +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath,<br/> +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear<br/> +In him was none; for that high Providence,<br/> +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss,<br/> +Power of departing thence took from them all. +</p> + +<p> +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,<br/> +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept,<br/> +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil.<br/> +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down<br/> +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those<br/> +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside<br/> +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,<br/> +But leaden all within, and of such weight,<br/> +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw.<br/> +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! +</p> + +<p> +We yet once more with them together turn’d<br/> +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.<br/> +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came<br/> +The fainting people, that our company<br/> +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. +</p> + +<p> +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find<br/> +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known,<br/> +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” +</p> + +<p> +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,<br/> +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet,<br/> +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.<br/> +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:<br/> +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look<br/> +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d<br/> +To overtake me; but the load they bare<br/> +And narrow path retarded their approach. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance<br/> +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each<br/> +To other thus conferring said: “This one<br/> +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive.<br/> +And, be they dead, what privilege allows<br/> +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest<br/> +The college of the mourning hypocrites,<br/> +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied,<br/> +“In the great city I was bred and grew,<br/> +And wear the body I have ever worn.<br/> +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,<br/> +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?<br/> +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?”<br/> +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,”<br/> +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross,<br/> +That with their weight they make the balances<br/> +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were,<br/> +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I,<br/> +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land<br/> +Together taken, as men used to take<br/> +A single and indifferent arbiter,<br/> +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped,<br/> +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” +</p> + +<p> +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—” But there +brake off, for one had caught my eye,<br/> +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground:<br/> +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout<br/> +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.<br/> +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware,<br/> +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent<br/> +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees<br/> +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man<br/> +To suffer for the people. He doth lie<br/> +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first<br/> +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.<br/> +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d<br/> +The father of his consort, and the rest<br/> +Partakers in that council, seed of ill<br/> +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then,<br/> +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him,<br/> +Thus abjectly extended on the cross<br/> +In banishment eternal. To the friar<br/> +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell,<br/> +If so be lawful, whether on our right<br/> +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby<br/> +We both may issue hence, without constraint<br/> +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come<br/> +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied:<br/> +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock<br/> +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps<br/> +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope<br/> +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount:<br/> +For on the side it slants, and most the height<br/> +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile<br/> +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill,<br/> +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst<br/> +I many vices of the devil heard,<br/> +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar,<br/> +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke,<br/> +My leader with large strides proceeded on,<br/> +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. +</p> + +<p> +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,<br/> +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIV"></a>CANTO XXIV</h2> + +<p> +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun<br/> +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn,<br/> +And now towards equal day the nights recede,<br/> +When as the rime upon the earth puts on<br/> +Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long<br/> +Her milder sway endures, then riseth up<br/> +The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,<br/> +And looking out beholds the plain around<br/> +All whiten’d, whence impatiently he smites<br/> +His thighs, and to his hut returning in,<br/> +There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,<br/> +As a discomfited and helpless man;<br/> +Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope<br/> +Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon<br/> +The world hath chang’d its count’nance, grasps his crook,<br/> +And forth to pasture drives his little flock:<br/> +So me my guide dishearten’d when I saw<br/> +His troubled forehead, and so speedily<br/> +That ill was cur’d; for at the fallen bridge<br/> +Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet,<br/> +He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld<br/> +At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well<br/> +The ruin, and some counsel first maintain’d<br/> +With his own thought, he open’d wide his arm<br/> +And took me up. As one, who, while he works,<br/> +Computes his labour’s issue, that he seems<br/> +Still to foresee the’ effect, so lifting me<br/> +Up to the summit of one peak, he fix’d<br/> +His eye upon another. “Grapple that,”<br/> +Said he, “but first make proof, if it be such<br/> +As will sustain thee.” For one capp’d with lead<br/> +This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,<br/> +And I, though onward push’d from crag to crag,<br/> +Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast<br/> +Were not less ample than the last, for him<br/> +I know not, but my strength had surely fail’d.<br/> +But Malebolge all toward the mouth<br/> +Inclining of the nethermost abyss,<br/> +The site of every valley hence requires,<br/> +That one side upward slope, the other fall. +</p> + +<p> +At length the point of our descent we reach’d<br/> +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d,<br/> +So was the breath exhausted from my lungs,<br/> +I could no further, but did seat me there. +</p> + +<p> +“Now needs thy best of man;” so spake my guide:<br/> +“For not on downy plumes, nor under shade<br/> +Of canopy reposing, fame is won,<br/> +Without which whosoe’er consumes his days<br/> +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,<br/> +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.<br/> +Thou therefore rise: vanish thy weariness<br/> +By the mind’s effort, in each struggle form’d<br/> +To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight<br/> +Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.<br/> +A longer ladder yet remains to scale.<br/> +From these to have escap’d sufficeth not.<br/> +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” +</p> + +<p> +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent<br/> +Than I in truth did feel me. “On,” I cried,<br/> +“For I am stout and fearless.” Up the rock<br/> +Our way we held, more rugged than before,<br/> +Narrower and steeper far to climb. From talk<br/> +I ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem<br/> +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss<br/> +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill.<br/> +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,<br/> +What were the words I knew not, but who spake<br/> +Seem’d mov’d in anger. Down I stoop’d to look,<br/> +But my quick eye might reach not to the depth<br/> +For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:<br/> +“To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps,<br/> +And from the wall dismount we; for as hence<br/> +I hear and understand not, so I see<br/> +Beneath, and naught discern.”—“I answer not,”<br/> +Said he, “but by the deed. To fair request<br/> +Silent performance maketh best return.” +</p> + +<p> +We from the bridge’s head descended, where<br/> +To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm<br/> +Opening to view, I saw a crowd within<br/> +Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape<br/> +And hideous, that remembrance in my veins<br/> +Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands<br/> +Let Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus,<br/> +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,<br/> +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire<br/> +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’d,<br/> +Not with all Ethiopia, and whate’er<br/> +Above the Erythraean sea is spawn’d. +</p> + +<p> +Amid this dread exuberance of woe<br/> +Ran naked spirits wing’d with horrid fear,<br/> +Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,<br/> +Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.<br/> +With serpents were their hands behind them bound,<br/> +Which through their reins infix’d the tail and head<br/> +Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one<br/> +Near to our side, darted an adder up,<br/> +And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,<br/> +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen<br/> +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d<br/> +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth.<br/> +When there dissolv’d he lay, the dust again<br/> +Uproll’d spontaneous, and the self-same form<br/> +Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,<br/> +The’ Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years<br/> +Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith<br/> +Renascent. Blade nor herb throughout his life<br/> +He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone<br/> +And odorous amomum: swaths of nard<br/> +And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,<br/> +He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg’d<br/> +To earth, or through obstruction fettering up<br/> +In chains invisible the powers of man,<br/> +Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,<br/> +Bewilder’d with the monstrous agony<br/> +He hath endur’d, and wildly staring sighs;<br/> +So stood aghast the sinner when he rose. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! how severe God’s judgment, that deals out<br/> +Such blows in stormy vengeance! Who he was<br/> +My teacher next inquir’d, and thus in few<br/> +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d,<br/> +Not long since rained down from Tuscany<br/> +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life<br/> +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was,<br/> +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” +</p> + +<p> +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence,<br/> +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once<br/> +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” +</p> + +<p> +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me<br/> +His mind directing and his face, wherein<br/> +Was dismal shame depictur’d, thus he spake:<br/> +“It grieves me more to have been caught by thee<br/> +In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than<br/> +When I was taken from the other life.<br/> +I have no power permitted to deny<br/> +What thou inquirest.” I am doom’d thus low<br/> +To dwell, for that the sacristy by me<br/> +Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,<br/> +And with the guilt another falsely charged.<br/> +But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,<br/> +So as thou e’er shalt ’scape this darksome realm<br/> +Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.<br/> +Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines,<br/> +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws.<br/> +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars,<br/> +A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists,<br/> +And sharp and eager driveth on the storm<br/> +With arrowy hurtling o’er Piceno’s field,<br/> +Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike<br/> +Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.<br/> +This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXV"></a>CANTO XXV</h2> + +<p> +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands<br/> +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God!<br/> +I level them at thee!” From that day forth<br/> +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck<br/> +One of then rolling twisted, as it said,<br/> +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms<br/> +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself<br/> +So close, it took from them the power to move. +</p> + +<p> +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt<br/> +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth<br/> +No longer, since in evil act so far<br/> +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark,<br/> +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss,<br/> +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God,<br/> +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled,<br/> +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came<br/> +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where<br/> +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh<br/> +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch<br/> +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins.<br/> +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay,<br/> +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire<br/> +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide:<br/> +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock<br/> +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.<br/> +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread<br/> +A different journey, for his fraudful theft<br/> +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found<br/> +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace<br/> +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on<br/> +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:<br/> +And under us three spirits came, of whom<br/> +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d;<br/> +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse,<br/> +Intent on these alone. I knew them not;<br/> +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one<br/> +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he,<br/> +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide<br/> +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips<br/> +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now<br/> +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,<br/> +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow<br/> +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked<br/> +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet<br/> +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:<br/> +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot<br/> +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek<br/> +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs<br/> +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d<br/> +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d<br/> +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs<br/> +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own.<br/> +Then, as they both had been of burning wax,<br/> +Each melted into other, mingling hues,<br/> +That which was either now was seen no more.<br/> +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,<br/> +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,<br/> +And the clean white expires. The other two<br/> +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change,<br/> +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now,<br/> +Nor only one.” The two heads now became<br/> +One, and two figures blended in one form<br/> +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths<br/> +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest<br/> +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d,<br/> +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape<br/> +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d<br/> +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on<br/> +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge<br/> +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields,<br/> +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems<br/> +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road,<br/> +So toward th’ entrails of the other two<br/> +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire,<br/> +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart.<br/> +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first,<br/> +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell<br/> +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him<br/> +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d,<br/> +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d.<br/> +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him.<br/> +One from the wound, the other from the mouth<br/> +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. +</p> + +<p> +Lucan in mute attention now may hear,<br/> +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell,<br/> +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute.<br/> +What if in warbling fiction he record<br/> +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake<br/> +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear,<br/> +I envy not; for never face to face<br/> +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,<br/> +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume<br/> +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise<br/> +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train<br/> +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit<br/> +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs<br/> +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon<br/> +Was visible: the tail disparted took<br/> +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin<br/> +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind.<br/> +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d<br/> +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet<br/> +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk.<br/> +The feet behind then twisting up became<br/> +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch<br/> +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke<br/> +With a new colour veils, and generates<br/> +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off<br/> +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet<br/> +One upright rose, and prone the other fell.<br/> +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps<br/> +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath.<br/> +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face<br/> +Retreated towards the temples, and what there<br/> +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears<br/> +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d,<br/> +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d<br/> +Into due size protuberant the lips.<br/> +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends<br/> +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears<br/> +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.<br/> +His tongue continuous before and apt<br/> +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork<br/> +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid.<br/> +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off,<br/> +Hissing along the vale, and after him<br/> +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d<br/> +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few<br/> +Thus to another spake: “Along this path<br/> +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” +</p> + +<p> +So saw I fluctuate in successive change<br/> +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:<br/> +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events<br/> +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes<br/> +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. +</p> + +<p> +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well<br/> +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was<br/> +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou,<br/> +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVI"></a>CANTO XXVI</h2> + +<p> +Florence exult! for thou so mightily<br/> +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings<br/> +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!<br/> +Among the plund’rers such the three I found<br/> +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son,<br/> +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. +</p> + +<p> +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,<br/> +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long<br/> +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)<br/> +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance<br/> +Were in good time, if it befell thee now.<br/> +Would so it were, since it must needs befall!<br/> +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. +</p> + +<p> +We from the depth departed; and my guide<br/> +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late<br/> +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep.<br/> +Pursuing thus our solitary way<br/> +Among the crags and splinters of the rock,<br/> +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives,<br/> +As my thought turns again to what I saw,<br/> +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb<br/> +The powers of nature in me, lest they run<br/> +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good<br/> +My gentle star, or something better gave me,<br/> +I envy not myself the precious boon. +</p> + +<p> +As in that season, when the sun least veils<br/> +His face that lightens all, what time the fly<br/> +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then<br/> +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees<br/> +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale,<br/> +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:<br/> +With flames so numberless throughout its space<br/> +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth<br/> +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs<br/> +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw<br/> +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect<br/> +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile,<br/> +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone<br/> +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d;<br/> +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame,<br/> +A sinner so enfolded close in each,<br/> +That none exhibits token of the theft. +</p> + +<p> +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look,<br/> +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n,<br/> +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark d<br/> +How I did gaze attentive, thus began:<br/> +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each<br/> +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy +word,”<br/> +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d<br/> +Already of the truth, already wish’d<br/> +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes<br/> +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d<br/> +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay<br/> +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within<br/> +Ulysses there and Diomede endure<br/> +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now<br/> +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath.<br/> +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore<br/> +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide<br/> +A portal for that goodly seed to pass,<br/> +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile<br/> +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft<br/> +Deidamia yet in death complains.<br/> +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy<br/> +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power<br/> +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I,<br/> +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold<br/> +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe<br/> +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive.<br/> +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,<br/> +And I accept it therefore: but do thou<br/> +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine,<br/> +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance,<br/> +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” +</p> + +<p> +When there the flame had come, where time and place<br/> +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began:<br/> +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!<br/> +If living I of you did merit aught,<br/> +Whate’er the measure were of that desert,<br/> +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d,<br/> +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold<br/> +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn<br/> +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire<br/> +That labours with the wind, then to and fro<br/> +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,<br/> +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d<br/> +From Circe, who beyond a circling year<br/> +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,<br/> +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore,<br/> +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence<br/> +Of my old father, nor return of love,<br/> +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy,<br/> +Could overcome in me the zeal I had<br/> +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life,<br/> +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d<br/> +Into the deep illimitable main,<br/> +With but one bark, and the small faithful band<br/> +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far,<br/> +Far as Morocco either shore I saw,<br/> +And the Sardinian and each isle beside<br/> +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age<br/> +Were I and my companions, when we came<br/> +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d<br/> +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man.<br/> +The walls of Seville to my right I left,<br/> +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past.<br/> +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west<br/> +Through perils without number now have reach’d,<br/> +To this the short remaining watch, that yet<br/> +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof<br/> +Of the unpeopled world, following the track<br/> +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:<br/> +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes<br/> +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.<br/> +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage<br/> +The mind of my associates, that I then<br/> +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn<br/> +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight<br/> +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.<br/> +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld,<br/> +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor<br/> +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft<br/> +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon<br/> +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far<br/> +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought<br/> +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight,<br/> +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land<br/> +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side<br/> +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round<br/> +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up<br/> +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:<br/> +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVII"></a>CANTO XXVII</h2> + +<p> +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light<br/> +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave<br/> +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came<br/> +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d,<br/> +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. +</p> + +<p> +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully<br/> +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould,<br/> +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him<br/> +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d<br/> +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found<br/> +Nor avenue immediate through the flame,<br/> +Into its language turn’d the dismal words:<br/> +But soon as they had won their passage forth,<br/> +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d<br/> +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard:<br/> +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice!<br/> +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, +</p> + +<p> +Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,’<br/> +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive<br/> +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,<br/> +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me<br/> +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall<br/> +into this blind world, from that pleasant land<br/> +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,<br/> +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell,<br/> +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there<br/> +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height,<br/> +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear,<br/> +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus:<br/> +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply<br/> +Was ready, and I spake without delay: +</p> + +<p> +“O spirit! who art hidden here below!<br/> +Never was thy Romagna without war<br/> +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now:<br/> +But open war there left I none. The state,<br/> +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year,<br/> +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods,<br/> +And in his broad circumference of plume<br/> +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp<br/> +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,<br/> +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. +</p> + +<p> +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,<br/> +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,<br/> +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range<br/> +Under the lion of the snowy lair.<br/> +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,<br/> +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost.<br/> +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave,<br/> +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies,<br/> +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?<br/> +Be not more hard than others. In the world,<br/> +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” +</p> + +<p> +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point<br/> +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last:<br/> +“If I did think, my answer were to one,<br/> +Who ever could return unto the world,<br/> +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er,<br/> +If true be told me, any from this depth<br/> +Has found his upward way, I answer thee,<br/> +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. +</p> + +<p> +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then<br/> +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so<br/> +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope<br/> +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on,<br/> +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin.<br/> +And how and wherefore listen while I tell.<br/> +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp<br/> +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake<br/> +The nature of the lion than the fox.<br/> +All ways of winding subtlety I knew,<br/> +And with such art conducted, that the sound<br/> +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part<br/> +Of life I found me come, when each behoves<br/> +To lower sails and gather in the lines;<br/> +That which before had pleased me then I rued,<br/> +And to repentance and confession turn’d;<br/> +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!<br/> +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,<br/> +Waging his warfare near the Lateran,<br/> +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes<br/> +All Christians were, nor against Acre one<br/> +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land),<br/> +He his great charge nor sacred ministry<br/> +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord,<br/> +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded.<br/> +As in Socrate, Constantine besought<br/> +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid,<br/> +So me to cure the fever of his pride<br/> +This man besought: my counsel to that end<br/> +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words<br/> +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d:<br/> +“From thy heart banish fear: of all offence<br/> +I hitherto absolve thee. In return,<br/> +Teach me my purpose so to execute,<br/> +That Penestrino cumber earth no more.<br/> +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut<br/> +And open: and the keys are therefore twain,<br/> +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,<br/> +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d,<br/> +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me<br/> +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,<br/> +Large promise with performance scant, be sure,<br/> +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” +</p> + +<p> +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came<br/> +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark<br/> +He met, who cried: “‘Wrong me not; he is mine,<br/> +And must below to join the wretched crew,<br/> +For the deceitful counsel which he gave.<br/> +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair,<br/> +No power can the impenitent absolve;<br/> +Nor to repent and will at once consist,<br/> +By contradiction absolute forbid.”<br/> +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he<br/> +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not<br/> +A disputant in logic so exact.”<br/> +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge<br/> +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail,<br/> +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:<br/> +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire<br/> +Must vanish.’ Hence perdition-doom’d I rove<br/> +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” +</p> + +<p> +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame<br/> +In dolour parted, beating to and fro,<br/> +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went,<br/> +I and my leader, up along the rock,<br/> +Far as another arch, that overhangs<br/> +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid<br/> +Of those, who load them with committed sin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVIII"></a>CANTO XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full<br/> +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,<br/> +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue<br/> +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought<br/> +Both impotent alike. If in one band<br/> +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er<br/> +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood,<br/> +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war<br/> +When of the rings the measur’d booty made<br/> +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes<br/> +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt<br/> +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel,<br/> +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet<br/> +At Ceperano, there where treachery<br/> +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond<br/> +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms<br/> +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs<br/> +One were to show transpierc’d, another his<br/> +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this<br/> +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight<br/> +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost<br/> +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide,<br/> +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout<br/> +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs<br/> +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay<br/> +Open to view, and wretched ventricle,<br/> +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. +</p> + +<p> +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,<br/> +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare,<br/> +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo!<br/> +How is Mohammed mangled! before me<br/> +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face<br/> +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all<br/> +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow<br/> +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.<br/> +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword<br/> +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again<br/> +Each of this ream, when we have compast round<br/> +The dismal way, for first our gashes close<br/> +Ere we repass before him. But say who<br/> +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,<br/> +Haply so lingering to delay the pain<br/> +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not +yet,”<br/> +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin<br/> +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make<br/> +Full trial of your state, I who am dead<br/> +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb,<br/> +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” +</p> + +<p> +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,<br/> +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed,<br/> +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance<br/> +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou<br/> +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not<br/> +Here soon to follow me, that with good store<br/> +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows<br/> +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power,<br/> +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d<br/> +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground<br/> +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade,<br/> +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate<br/> +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear<br/> +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood<br/> +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d<br/> +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d<br/> +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said ‘he, “whom sin<br/> +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near<br/> +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft<br/> +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind<br/> +Piero of Medicina, if again<br/> +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land<br/> +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo;<br/> +And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts<br/> +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,<br/> +That if ’tis giv’n us here to scan aright<br/> +The future, they out of life’s tenement<br/> +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves<br/> +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy<br/> +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle<br/> +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen<br/> +An injury so foul, by pirates done<br/> +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor<br/> +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain<br/> +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring<br/> +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end,<br/> +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind<br/> +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above<br/> +May carry tidings of thee, who is he,<br/> +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone<br/> +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws<br/> +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of;<br/> +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this<br/> +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind,<br/> +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d<br/> +Was ever harmful. “Oh how terrified<br/> +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut<br/> +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one<br/> +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom<br/> +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots<br/> +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee<br/> +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d,<br/> +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d<br/> +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” +</p> + +<p> +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,<br/> +As one grief stung to madness. But I there<br/> +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw<br/> +Things, such as I may fear without more proof<br/> +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,<br/> +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate<br/> +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within<br/> +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt<br/> +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,<br/> +A headless trunk, that even as the rest<br/> +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair<br/> +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise<br/> +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said,<br/> +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself,<br/> +And two there were in one, and one in two.<br/> +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. +</p> + +<p> +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood,<br/> +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head<br/> +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear<br/> +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold<br/> +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st<br/> +To spy the dead; behold if any else<br/> +Be terrible as this. And that on earth<br/> +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I<br/> +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John<br/> +The counsel mischievous. Father and son<br/> +I set at mutual war. For Absalom<br/> +And David more did not Ahitophel,<br/> +Spurring them on maliciously to strife.<br/> +For parting those so closely knit, my brain<br/> +Parted, alas! I carry from its source,<br/> +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law<br/> +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIX"></a>CANTO XXIX</h2> + +<p> +So were mine eyes inebriate with view<br/> +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds<br/> +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. +</p> + +<p> +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on?<br/> +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below<br/> +Among the maim’d and miserable shades?<br/> +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside<br/> +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them<br/> +That two and twenty miles the valley winds<br/> +Its circuit, and already is the moon<br/> +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now<br/> +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the +cause<br/> +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d<br/> +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d<br/> +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him,<br/> +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem,<br/> +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,<br/> +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,<br/> +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” +</p> + +<p> +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more<br/> +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere<br/> +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot<br/> +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look<br/> +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d<br/> +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then<br/> +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d<br/> +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not<br/> +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d!<br/> +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I,<br/> +“By any, who are partners in his shame,<br/> +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think,<br/> +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so<br/> +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” +</p> + +<p> +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d<br/> +The other valley, had more light been there,<br/> +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came<br/> +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds<br/> +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood<br/> +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart<br/> +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all<br/> +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d<br/> +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. +</p> + +<p> +As were the torment, if each lazar-house<br/> +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time<br/> +’Twixt July and September, with the isle<br/> +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen,<br/> +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss<br/> +Together; such was here the torment: dire<br/> +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. +</p> + +<p> +We on the utmost shore of the long rock<br/> +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight<br/> +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein<br/> +The minister of the most mighty Lord,<br/> +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment<br/> +The forgers noted on her dread record. +</p> + +<p> +More rueful was it not methinks to see<br/> +The nation in Aegina droop, what time<br/> +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm,<br/> +All fell, so full of malice was the air<br/> +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told,<br/> +The ancient people were restor’d anew<br/> +From seed of emmets) than was here to see<br/> +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale<br/> +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay,<br/> +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one<br/> +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third<br/> +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step<br/> +We journey’d on, in silence looking round<br/> +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain<br/> +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat<br/> +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans<br/> +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot,<br/> +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er<br/> +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord<br/> +Impatient waited, or himself perchance<br/> +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one<br/> +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness<br/> +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust<br/> +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales<br/> +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off<br/> +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one,<br/> +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them,<br/> +Tell me if any born of Latian land<br/> +Be among these within: so may thy nails<br/> +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied,<br/> +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou<br/> +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide:<br/> +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives,<br/> +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” +</p> + +<p> +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d<br/> +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear<br/> +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege<br/> +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” +</p> + +<p> +And I therewith began: “So may no time<br/> +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men<br/> +In th’ upper world, but after many suns<br/> +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are,<br/> +And of what race ye come. Your punishment,<br/> +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind,<br/> +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one,<br/> +“And me Albero of Sienna brought<br/> +To die by fire; but that, for which I died,<br/> +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him,<br/> +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air.<br/> +And he admiring much, as he was void<br/> +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him<br/> +The secret of mine art: and only hence,<br/> +Because I made him not a Daedalus,<br/> +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me.<br/> +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten,<br/> +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth,<br/> +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race<br/> +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself<br/> +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” +</p> + +<p> +The other leprous spirit heard my words,<br/> +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge<br/> +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately<br/> +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo<br/> +Who first the spice’s costly luxury<br/> +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed<br/> +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop<br/> +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano<br/> +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods,<br/> +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d<br/> +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know<br/> +Who seconds thee against the Siennese<br/> +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight,<br/> +That well my face may answer to thy ken;<br/> +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost,<br/> +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power<br/> +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,<br/> +Thus needs must well remember how I aped<br/> +Creative nature by my subtle art.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXX"></a>CANTO XXX</h2> + +<p> +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast<br/> +For Semele against the Theban blood,<br/> +As more than once in dire mischance was rued,<br/> +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas,<br/> +That he his spouse beholding with a babe<br/> +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried,<br/> +“The meshes, that I take the lioness<br/> +And the young lions at the pass: “then forth<br/> +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one,<br/> +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d,<br/> +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock,<br/> +And with her other burden self-destroy’d<br/> +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride<br/> +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,<br/> +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king<br/> +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba,<br/> +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw<br/> +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son,<br/> +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach<br/> +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense<br/> +Did she run barking even as a dog;<br/> +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.<br/> +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy<br/> +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads<br/> +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,<br/> +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw<br/> +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine<br/> +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio,<br/> +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,<br/> +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d<br/> +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape,<br/> +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;<br/> +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood<br/> +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope,<br/> +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,<br/> +Be patient to inform us, who it is,<br/> +Ere it speed hence.”—” That is the ancient soul<br/> +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d<br/> +With most unholy flame for her own sire,<br/> +And a false shape assuming, so perform’d<br/> +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there,<br/> +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit<br/> +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament<br/> +The seal affixing, that himself might gain,<br/> +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” +</p> + +<p> +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom<br/> +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view<br/> +The other cursed spirits. One I saw<br/> +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin<br/> +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part.<br/> +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs<br/> +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch<br/> +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips<br/> +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,<br/> +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O ye, who in this world of misery,<br/> +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,”<br/> +Thus he began, “attentively regard<br/> +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply<br/> +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted;<br/> +One drop of water now, alas! I crave.<br/> +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes<br/> +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft<br/> +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream,<br/> +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;<br/> +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up,<br/> +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh<br/> +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place,<br/> +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me,<br/> +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs.<br/> +There is Romena, where I falsified<br/> +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest,<br/> +For which on earth I left my body burnt.<br/> +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul<br/> +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,<br/> +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change<br/> +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within,<br/> +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round<br/> +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that?<br/> +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light,<br/> +That I each hundred years might move one inch,<br/> +I had set forth already on this path,<br/> +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,<br/> +Although eleven miles it wind, not more<br/> +Than half of one across. They brought me down<br/> +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d<br/> +The florens with three carats of alloy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d,<br/> +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right<br/> +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d<br/> +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,”<br/> +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour<br/> +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween,<br/> +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame<br/> +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;<br/> +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.<br/> +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,<br/> +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard,<br/> +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d,<br/> +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch,<br/> +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith<br/> +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow<br/> +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me<br/> +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm<br/> +At liberty for such employ.” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire,<br/> +Thou hadst it not so ready at command,<br/> +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” +</p> + +<p> +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true.<br/> +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony,<br/> +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,”<br/> +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault,<br/> +And thou for more than any imp beside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one,<br/> +The horse remember, that did teem with death,<br/> +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” +</p> + +<p> +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the +thirst<br/> +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,<br/> +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes,<br/> +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus:<br/> +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass<br/> +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails,<br/> +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d,<br/> +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need<br/> +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” +</p> + +<p> +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide<br/> +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more.<br/> +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d<br/> +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d<br/> +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet<br/> +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm<br/> +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,<br/> +And that which is, desires as if it were not,<br/> +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak<br/> +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while<br/> +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. +</p> + +<p> +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,”<br/> +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast<br/> +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again<br/> +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,<br/> +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear<br/> +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXI"></a>CANTO XXXI</h2> + +<p> +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before<br/> +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d,<br/> +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard,<br/> +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d<br/> +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. +</p> + +<p> +Turning our back upon the vale of woe,<br/> +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There<br/> +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom<br/> +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn<br/> +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made<br/> +The thunder feeble. Following its course<br/> +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent<br/> +On that one spot. So terrible a blast<br/> +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout<br/> +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d<br/> +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long<br/> +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers<br/> +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land<br/> +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space<br/> +Of intervening darkness has thine eye<br/> +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d<br/> +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d<br/> +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude<br/> +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” +</p> + +<p> +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;<br/> +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance,<br/> +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,<br/> +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d,<br/> +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” +</p> + +<p> +As when a fog disperseth gradually,<br/> +Our vision traces what the mist involves<br/> +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross<br/> +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more<br/> +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled,<br/> +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round<br/> +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls,<br/> +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss,<br/> +Was turreted with giants, half their length<br/> +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n<br/> +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. +</p> + +<p> +Of one already I descried the face,<br/> +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge<br/> +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. +</p> + +<p> +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand<br/> +Left framing of these monsters, did display<br/> +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War<br/> +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she<br/> +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale,<br/> +Who ponders well confesses her therein<br/> +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force<br/> +And evil will are back’d with subtlety,<br/> +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d<br/> +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops<br/> +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones<br/> +Of like proportion, so that from above<br/> +The bank, which girdled him below, such height<br/> +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders<br/> +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair.<br/> +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d<br/> +Downward from whence a man his garments loops.<br/> +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,”<br/> +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns<br/> +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus:<br/> +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee<br/> +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage<br/> +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck,<br/> +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.<br/> +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast<br/> +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake:<br/> +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this,<br/> +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more<br/> +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste<br/> +Our words; for so each language is to him,<br/> +As his to others, understood by none.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth,<br/> +And at a sling’s throw found another shade<br/> +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say<br/> +What master hand had girt him; but he held<br/> +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before<br/> +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him<br/> +From the neck down, and five times round his form<br/> +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one<br/> +Would of his strength against almighty Jove<br/> +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus<br/> +Requited: Ephialtes him they call.<br/> +Great was his prowess, when the giants brought<br/> +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled,<br/> +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d:<br/> +“Fain would I, if ’twere possible, mine eyes<br/> +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d<br/> +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see<br/> +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks<br/> +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there<br/> +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands<br/> +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made<br/> +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks<br/> +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d<br/> +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base,<br/> +As Ephialtes. More than ever then<br/> +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more<br/> +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords<br/> +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on,<br/> +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete<br/> +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made<br/> +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword<br/> +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,<br/> +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil<br/> +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought<br/> +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side,<br/> +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm<br/> +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe<br/> +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold<br/> +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave<br/> +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one<br/> +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop<br/> +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.<br/> +He in the upper world can yet bestow<br/> +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks<br/> +For life yet longer, if before the time<br/> +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake<br/> +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands,<br/> +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt<br/> +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide<br/> +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way<br/> +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up,<br/> +That we were both one burden. As appears<br/> +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath<br/> +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud<br/> +So sail across, that opposite it hangs,<br/> +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease<br/> +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times<br/> +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss,<br/> +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,<br/> +I,ightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d,<br/> +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXII"></a>CANTO XXXII</h2> + +<p> +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit<br/> +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock<br/> +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein<br/> +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine<br/> +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch<br/> +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth<br/> +Of all the universe, is no emprize<br/> +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d<br/> +To infant babbling. But let them assist<br/> +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid<br/> +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth<br/> +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk,<br/> +Beyond all others wretched! who abide<br/> +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words<br/> +To speak of, better had ye here on earth<br/> +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood<br/> +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet,<br/> +But lower far than they, and I did gaze<br/> +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice<br/> +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take<br/> +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads<br/> +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d,<br/> +And saw before and underneath my feet<br/> +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d<br/> +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil<br/> +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread<br/> +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote<br/> +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass<br/> +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n,<br/> +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog<br/> +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams<br/> +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil,<br/> +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low<br/> +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood,<br/> +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.<br/> +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold,<br/> +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. +</p> + +<p> +A space I look’d around, then at my feet<br/> +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head<br/> +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye,<br/> +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I,<br/> +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent,<br/> +And when their looks were lifted up to me,<br/> +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within,<br/> +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound<br/> +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.<br/> +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up<br/> +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats<br/> +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. +</p> + +<p> +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft,<br/> +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us<br/> +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know<br/> +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave<br/> +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own<br/> +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.<br/> +They from one body issued; and throughout<br/> +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade<br/> +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d,<br/> +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land<br/> +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia,<br/> +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head<br/> +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name<br/> +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be,<br/> +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short<br/> +All further question, in my form behold<br/> +What once was Camiccione. I await<br/> +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt<br/> +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages<br/> +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold<br/> +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps<br/> +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought<br/> +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on<br/> +Toward the middle, at whose point unites<br/> +All heavy substance, and I trembling went<br/> +Through that eternal chillness, I know not<br/> +If will it were or destiny, or chance,<br/> +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike<br/> +With violent blow against the face of one. +</p> + +<p> +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d,<br/> +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge<br/> +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here,<br/> +That I through him may rid me of my doubt.<br/> +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d,<br/> +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly<br/> +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak,<br/> +That railest thus on others?” He replied:<br/> +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks<br/> +Through Antenora roamest, with such force<br/> +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,”<br/> +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee,<br/> +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” +</p> + +<p> +“The contrary of what I covet most,”<br/> +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more.<br/> +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” +</p> + +<p> +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried:<br/> +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that<br/> +I will not tell nor show thee who I am,<br/> +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off<br/> +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes<br/> +Drawn in and downward, when another cried,<br/> +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough<br/> +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?<br/> +What devil wrings thee?”—” Now,” said I, “be +dumb,<br/> +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee<br/> +True tidings will I bear.”—” Off,” he replied,<br/> +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence<br/> +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib,<br/> +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold.<br/> +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d,<br/> +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d<br/> +What other shade was with them, at thy side<br/> +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d<br/> +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on,<br/> +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,<br/> +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him<br/> +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” +</p> + +<p> +We now had left him, passing on our way,<br/> +When I beheld two spirits by the ice<br/> +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one<br/> +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread<br/> +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost<br/> +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain,<br/> +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously<br/> +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d,<br/> +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate<br/> +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I<br/> +“The cause, on such condition, that if right<br/> +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are,<br/> +And what the colour of his sinning was,<br/> +I may repay thee in the world above,<br/> +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIII"></a>CANTO XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast,<br/> +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head,<br/> +Which he behind had mangled, then began:<br/> +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh<br/> +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings<br/> +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words,<br/> +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear<br/> +Fruit of eternal infamy to him,<br/> +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once<br/> +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be<br/> +I know not, nor how here below art come:<br/> +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth,<br/> +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth<br/> +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he<br/> +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close,<br/> +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts<br/> +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en<br/> +And after murder’d, need is not I tell.<br/> +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is,<br/> +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear,<br/> +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate<br/> +Within that mew, which for my sake the name<br/> +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine,<br/> +Already through its opening sev’ral moons<br/> +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep,<br/> +That from the future tore the curtain off.<br/> +This one, methought, as master of the sport,<br/> +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps<br/> +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight<br/> +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs<br/> +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d<br/> +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.<br/> +After short course the father and the sons<br/> +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw<br/> +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke<br/> +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard<br/> +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask<br/> +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang<br/> +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;<br/> +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?<br/> +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near<br/> +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind<br/> +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I<br/> +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up<br/> +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word<br/> +I look’d upon the visage of my sons.<br/> +I wept not: so all stone I felt within.<br/> +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried:<br/> +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet<br/> +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day<br/> +Nor the next night, until another sun<br/> +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam<br/> +Had to our doleful prison made its way,<br/> +And in four countenances I descry’d<br/> +The image of my own, on either hand<br/> +Through agony I bit, and they who thought<br/> +I did it through desire of feeding, rose<br/> +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve<br/> +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st<br/> +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear,<br/> +And do thou strip them off from us again.’<br/> +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down<br/> +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next<br/> +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!<br/> +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came<br/> +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet<br/> +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help<br/> +For me, my father!’ “There he died, and e’en<br/> +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three<br/> +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth:<br/> +Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope<br/> +Over them all, and for three days aloud<br/> +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got<br/> +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke,<br/> +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth<br/> +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone<br/> +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame<br/> +Of all the people, who their dwelling make<br/> +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice<br/> +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack<br/> +To punish, from their deep foundations rise<br/> +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up<br/> +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee<br/> +May perish in the waters! What if fame<br/> +Reported that thy castles were betray’d<br/> +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou<br/> +To stretch his children on the rack. For them,<br/> +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair<br/> +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told,<br/> +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make<br/> +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d,<br/> +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice<br/> +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d +</p> + +<p> +There very weeping suffers not to weep;<br/> +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds<br/> +Impediment, and rolling inward turns<br/> +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears<br/> +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show,<br/> +Under the socket brimming all the cup. +</p> + +<p> +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d<br/> +Each feeling, as ’twere callous, yet me seem’d<br/> +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,”<br/> +Said I, “my master? Is not here below<br/> +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be +speedily,”<br/> +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence<br/> +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” +</p> + +<p> +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d:<br/> +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post<br/> +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove<br/> +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief<br/> +Impregnate at my heart, some little space<br/> +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied:<br/> +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;<br/> +And if I extricate thee not, far down<br/> +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” +</p> + +<p> +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he,<br/> +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d<br/> +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date<br/> +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I +exclaim’d,<br/> +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft<br/> +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he,<br/> +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege<br/> +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul<br/> +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d.<br/> +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly<br/> +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes,<br/> +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays,<br/> +As I did, yields her body to a fiend<br/> +Who after moves and governs it at will,<br/> +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she<br/> +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above<br/> +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost,<br/> +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st,<br/> +If thou but newly art arriv’d below.<br/> +The years are many that have pass’d away,<br/> +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me,<br/> +For Branca Doria never yet hath died,<br/> +But doth all natural functions of a man,<br/> +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss<br/> +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch<br/> +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d,<br/> +When this one left a demon in his stead<br/> +In his own body, and of one his kin,<br/> +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth<br/> +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not.<br/> +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. +</p> + +<p> +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way,<br/> +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth<br/> +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours<br/> +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found,<br/> +As for his doings even now in soul<br/> +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem<br/> +In body still alive upon the earth. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIV"></a>CANTO XXXIV</h2> + +<p> +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth<br/> +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud<br/> +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night<br/> +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far<br/> +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,<br/> +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, +</p> + +<p> +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew<br/> +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. +</p> + +<p> +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain<br/> +Record the marvel) where the souls were all<br/> +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass<br/> +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid,<br/> +Others stood upright, this upon the soles,<br/> +That on his head, a third with face to feet<br/> +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came,<br/> +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see<br/> +The creature eminent in beauty once,<br/> +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place,<br/> +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” +</p> + +<p> +How frozen and how faint I then became,<br/> +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,<br/> +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.<br/> +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself<br/> +If quick conception work in thee at all,<br/> +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways<br/> +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice<br/> +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like<br/> +A giant, than the giants are in his arms.<br/> +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits<br/> +With such a part. If he were beautiful<br/> +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare<br/> +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him<br/> +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight!<br/> +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy<br/> +Upon his head three faces: one in front<br/> +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this<br/> +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest;<br/> +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left<br/> +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile<br/> +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth<br/> +Two mighty wings, enormous as became<br/> +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw<br/> +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they,<br/> +But were in texture like a bat, and these<br/> +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still<br/> +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth<br/> +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears<br/> +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam.<br/> +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d<br/> +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three<br/> +Were in this guise tormented. But far more<br/> +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d<br/> +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back<br/> +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit,<br/> +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within<br/> +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two,<br/> +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw<br/> +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe<br/> +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears<br/> +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends,<br/> +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” +</p> + +<p> +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade;<br/> +And noting time and place, he, when the wings<br/> +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides,<br/> +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d<br/> +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh<br/> +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns,<br/> +My leader there with pain and struggling hard<br/> +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before,<br/> +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,<br/> +That into hell methought we turn’d again. +</p> + +<p> +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake<br/> +The teacher, panting like a man forespent,<br/> +“We must depart from evil so extreme.”<br/> +Then at a rocky opening issued forth,<br/> +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d<br/> +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes,<br/> +Believing that I Lucifer should see<br/> +Where he was lately left, but saw him now<br/> +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort,<br/> +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d,<br/> +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. +</p> + +<p> +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet.<br/> +“The way is long, and much uncouth the road;<br/> +And now within one hour and half of noon<br/> +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall<br/> +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood,<br/> +But natural dungeon where ill footing was<br/> +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss<br/> +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began,<br/> +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free<br/> +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice?<br/> +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d?<br/> +And how from eve to morn in space so brief<br/> +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few<br/> +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still<br/> +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d<br/> +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.<br/> +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I<br/> +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass<br/> +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d<br/> +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d<br/> +Under the hemisphere opposed to that,<br/> +Which the great continent doth overspread,<br/> +And underneath whose canopy expir’d<br/> +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d.<br/> +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,<br/> +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn<br/> +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he,<br/> +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d,<br/> +As at the first. On this part he fell down<br/> +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before,<br/> +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,<br/> +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance<br/> +To shun him was the vacant space left here<br/> +By what of firm land on this side appears,<br/> +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath,<br/> +From Belzebub as distant, as extends<br/> +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight,<br/> +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends<br/> +This way along the hollow of a rock,<br/> +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,<br/> +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way<br/> +My guide and I did enter, to return<br/> +To the fair world: and heedless of repose<br/> +We climbed, he first, I following his steps,<br/> +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n<br/> +Dawn, through a circular opening in the cave:<br/> +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="notes01"></a>NOTES TO HELL</h2> + +<h5>CANTO I</h5> + +<p> +Verse 1. In the midway.] That the era of the Poem is intended by these words to +be fixed to the thirty fifth year of the poet’s age, A.D. 1300, will +appear more plainly in Canto XXI. where that date is explicitly marked. +</p> + +<p> +v. 16. That planet’s beam.] The sun. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. The hinder foot.] It is to be remembered, that in ascending a hill the +weight of the body rests on the hinder foot. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. A panther.] Pleasure or luxury. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. With those stars.] The sun was in Aries, in which sign he supposes it to +have begun its course at the creation. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. A lion.] Pride or ambition. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. A she wolf.] Avarice. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Where the sun in silence rests.] Hence Milton appears to have taken his +idea in the Samson Agonistes: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The sun to me is dark +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And silent as the moon, &c<br/> +The same metaphor will recur, Canto V. v. 29. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Into a place I came +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Where light was silent all. +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. When the power of Julius.] This is explained by the commentators to mean +“Although it was rather late with respect to my birth before Julius +Caesar assumed the supreme authority, and made himself perpetual +dictator.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. That greyhound.] This passage is intended as an eulogium on the liberal +spirit of his Veronese patron Can Grande della Scala. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. ’Twizt either Feltro.] Verona, the country of Can della Scala, is +situated between Feltro, a city in the Marca Trivigiana, and Monte Feltro, a +city in the territory of Urbino. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Italia’s plains.] “Umile Italia,” from Virgil, Aen +lib.<br/> +iii. 522. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Humilemque videmus +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Italiam. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. Content in fire.] The spirits in Purgatory. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. A spirit worthier.] Beatrice, who conducts the Poet through Paradise. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Saint Peter’s gate.] The gate of Purgatory, which the Poet feigns +to be guarded by an angel placed on that station by St. Peter. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO II</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Now was the day.] A compendium of Virgil’s description Aen. lib. iv +522. Nox erat, &c. Compare Apollonius Rhodius, lib iii. 744, and lib. iv. +1058 +</p> + +<p> +v. 8. O mind.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â O thought that write all that I met, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And in the tresorie it set +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Of my braine, now shall men see +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â If any virtue in thee be. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Chaucer. Temple of Fame, b. ii. v.18 +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Silvius’sire.] Aeneas. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. The chosen vessel.] St.Paul, Acts, c. ix. v. 15. “But the Lord +said unto him, Go thy way; for he is a chosen vessel unto me.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Thy soul.] L’anima tua e da viltate offesa. So in Berni, Orl +Inn.lib. iii. c. i. st. 53. Se l’alma avete offesa da viltate. +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. Who rest suspended.] The spirits in Limbo, neither admitted to a state +of glory nor doomed to punishment. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. A friend not of my fortune, but myself.] Se non fortunae sed hominibus +solere esse amicum. Cornelii Nepotis Attici Vitae, c. ix. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. Whatever is contain’d.] Every other thing comprised within the +lunar heaven, which, being the lowest of all, has the smallest circle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. A blessed dame.] The divine mercy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Lucia.] The enlightening grace of heaven. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Three maids.] The divine mercy, Lucia, and Beatrice. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. As florets.] This simile is well translated by Chaucer— But right +as floures through the cold of night Iclosed, stoupen in her stalkes lowe, +Redressen hem agen the sunne bright, And speden in her kinde course by rowe, +&c. Troilus and Creseide, b.ii. It has been imitated by many others, among +whom see Berni, Orl.Inn. Iib. 1. c. xii. st. 86. Marino, Adone, c. xvii. st. +63. and Sor. “Donna vestita di nero.” and Spenser’s Faery +Queen, b.4. c. xii. st. 34. and b. 6 c. ii. st. 35. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO III</h5> + +<p> +v. 5. Power divine Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.] The three persons of +the blessed Trinity. v. 9. all hope abandoned.] Lasciate ogni speranza voi +ch’entrate. So Berni, Orl. Inn. lib. i. c. 8. st. 53. Lascia pur della +vita ogni speranza. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Like to the sand.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Unnumber’d as the sands +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Of Barca or Cyrene’s torrid soil +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Levied to side with warring winds, and poise +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Their lighter wings. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Milton, P. L. ii. 908. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. Lest th’ accursed tribe.] Lest the rebellious angels should exult +at seeing those who were neutral and therefore less guilty, condemned to the +same punishment with themselves. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. A flag.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â All the grisly legions that troop +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Under the sooty flag of Acheron +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Milton. Comus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Who to base fear Yielding, abjur’d his high estate.] This is +commonly understood of Celestine the Fifth, who abdicated the papal power in +1294. Venturi mentions a work written by Innocenzio Barcellini, of the +Celestine order, and printed in Milan in 1701, In which an attempt is made to +put a different interpretation on this passage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. through the blear light.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Lo fioco lume<br/> +So Filicaja, canz. vi. st. 12. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Qual fioco lume. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. An old man.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Canities inculta jacet; stant lumina flamma. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Virg. 7. Aen. Iib. vi. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. In fierce heat and in ice.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The delighted spirit +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â To bathe in fiery floods or to reside +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Shakesp. Measure for Measure, a. iii.s.1.<br/> +Compare Milton, P. L. b. ii. 600. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. The livid lake.] Vada livida. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Virg. Aen. Iib. vi. 320 +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Totius ut Lacus putidaeque paludis +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Lividissima, maximeque est profunda vorago. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Catullus. xviii. 10. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. With eyes of burning coal.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â His looks were dreadful, and his fiery eyes +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Like two great beacons glared bright and wide. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Spenser. F.Q. b. vi. c. vii.st. 42 +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. As fall off the light of autumnal leaves.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Quam multa in silvis autumul frigore primo +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Lapsa cadunt folia. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Virg. Aen. lib. vi. 309<br/> +Compare Apoll. Rhod. lib. iv. 214. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IV</h5> + +<p> +v. 8. A thund’rous sound.] Imitated, as Mr. Thyer has remarked,<br/> +by Milton, P. L. b. viii. 242. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But long ere our approaching heard +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Noise, other, than the sound of dance or song +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. a puissant one.] Our Saviour. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. Honour the bard +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Sublime.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Onorate l’altissimo poeta.<br/> +So Chiabrera, Canz. Eroiche. 32. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Onorando l’altissimo poeta. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â She nas to sober ne to glad. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Chaucer’s Dream. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. The Monarch of sublimest song.] Homer. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. Fitter left untold.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che’l tacere e bello,<br/> +So our Poet, in Canzone 14. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â La vide in parte che’l tacere e bello,<br/> +Ruccellai, Le Api, 789. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ch’a dire e brutto ed a tacerlo e bello<br/> +And Bembo, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â “Vie pui bello e il tacerle, che il favellarne.” +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Gli. Asol. lib. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. Electra.] The daughter of Atlas, and mother of Dardanus the founder of +Troy. See Virg. Aen. b. viii. 134. as referred to by Dante in treatise +“De Monarchia,” lib. ii. “Electra, scilicet, nata magni +nombris regis Atlantis, ut de ambobus testimonium reddit poeta noster in octavo +ubi Aeneas ad Avandrum sic ait “Dardanus Iliacae,” &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Julia.] The daughter of Julius Caesar, and wife of Pompey. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. The Soldan fierce.] Saladin or Salaheddin, the rival of Richard coeur +de lion. See D’Herbelot, Bibl. Orient. and Knolles’s Hist. of the +Turks p. 57 to 73 and the Life of Saladin, by Bohao’edin Ebn Shedad, +published by Albert Schultens, with a Latin translation. He is introduced by +Petrarch in the Triumph of Fame, c. ii +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. The master of the sapient throng.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Maestro di color che sanno.<br/> +Aristotle—Petrarch assigns the first place to Plato. See Triumph<br/> +of Fame, c. iii.<br/> +Pulci, in his Morgante Maggiore, c. xviii. says, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Tu se’il maestro di color che sanno. +</p> + +<p> +v. 132. Democritus Who sets the world at chance.] Democritus,who maintained the +world to have been formed by the fortuitous concourse of atoms. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Avicen.] See D’Herbelot Bibl. Orient. article Sina. He died in +1050. Pulci here again imitates our poet: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Avicenna quel che il sentimento +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Intese di Aristotile e i segreti, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Averrois che fece il gran comento. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Morg. Mag. c. xxv. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Him who made That commentary vast, Averroes.] Averroes, called by the +Arabians Roschd, translated and commented the works of Aristotle. According to +Tiraboschi (storia della Lett. Ital. t. v. 1. ii. c. ii. sect. 4.) he was the +source of modern philosophical impiety. The critic quotes some passages from +Petrarch (Senil. 1. v. ep. iii. et. Oper. v. ii. p. 1143) to show how strongly +such sentiments prevailed in the time of that poet, by whom they were held in +horror and detestation He adds, that this fanatic admirer of Aristotle +translated his writings with that felicity, which might be expected from one +who did not know a syllable of Greek, and who was therefore compelled to avail +himself of the unfaithful Arabic versions. D’Herbelot, on the other hand, +informs us, that “Averroes was the first who translated Aristotle from +Greek into Arabic, before the Jews had made their translation: and that we had +for a long time no other text of Aristotle, except that of the Latin +translation, which was made from this Arabic version of this great philosopher +(Averroes), who afterwards added to it a very ample commentary, of which Thomas +Aquinas, and the other scholastic writers, availed themselves, before the Greek +originals of Aristotle and his commentators were known to us in Europe.” +According to D’Herbelot, he died in 1198: but Tiraboschi places that +event about 1206. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO V</h5> + +<p> +v. 5. Grinning with ghastly feature.] Hence Milton: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Death +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Grinn’d horrible a ghastly smile. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â P. L. b. ii. 845. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. As cranes.] This simile is imitated by Lorenzo de<br/> +Medici, in his Ambra, a poem, first published by Mr. Roscoe, in<br/> +the Appendix to his Life of Lorenzo. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Wheel their due flight in varied ranks descried: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And each with outstretch’d neck his rank maintains +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â In marshal’d order through th’ ethereal void. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Roscoe, v. i. c. v. p. 257. 4to edit.<br/> +Compare Homer. Il. iii. 3. Virgil. Aeneid. 1 x. 264, and<br/> +Ruccellai, Le Api, 942, and Dante’s Purgatory, Canto XXIV. 63. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. The land.] Ravenna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 99 Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt.] Amor, Ch’ al cor +gentil ratto s’apprende. A line taken by Marino, Adone, c. cxli. st. 251. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. Love, that denial takes from none belov’d.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Amor, ch’ a null’ amato amar perdona.<br/> +So Boccacio, in his Filocopo. l.1. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Amore mal non perdono l’amore a nullo amato.<br/> +And Pulci, in the Morgante Maggiore, c. iv. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E perche amor mal volontier perdona, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che non sia al fin sempre amato chi ama.<br/> +Indeed many of the Italian poets have repeated this verse. +</p> + +<p> +v. 105. Caina.] The place to which murderers are doomed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Francesca.] Francesca, daughter of Guido da Polenta, lord of Ravenna, +was given by her father in marriage to Lanciotto, son of Malatesta, lord of +Rimini, a man of extraordinary courage, but deformed in his person. His brother +Paolo, who unhappily possessed those graces which the husband of Francesca +wanted, engaged her affections; and being taken in adultery, they were both put +to death by the enraged Lanciotto. See Notes to Canto XXVII. v. 43 The whole of +this passage is alluded to by Petrarch, in his Triumph of Love c. iii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â No greater grief than to remember days +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Of joy,xwhen mis’ry is at hand!]<br/> +Imitated by Marino: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che non ha doglia il misero maggiore +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che ricordar la giola entro il dolore. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Adone, c. xiv. st. 100<br/> +And by Fortiguerra: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Rimembrare il ben perduto +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Fa piu meschino lo presente stato. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ricciardetto, c. xi. st. 83.<br/> +The original perhaps was in Boetius de Consol. Philosoph. “In<br/> +omni adversitate fortunae infelicissimum genus est infortunii<br/> +fuisse felicem et non esse.” 1. 2. pr. 4 +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Lancelot.] One of the Knights of the Round Table, and the lover of +Ginevra, or Guinever, celebrated in romance. The incident alluded to seems to +have made a strong impression on the imagination of Dante, who introduces it +again, less happily, in the Paradise, Canto XVI. +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. At one point.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Questo quel punto fu, che sol mi vinse. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Tasso, Il Torrismondo, a. i. s. 3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. And like a corpse fell to the ground ] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E caddi, come corpo morto cade.<br/> +So Pulci: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E cadde come morto in terra cade.<br/> +Morgante Maggoire, c. xxii +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VI</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. My sense reviving.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Al tornar della mente, che si chiuse +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Dinanzi alla pieta de’ duo cognati.<br/> +Berni has made a sportive application of these lines, in his Orl.<br/> +Inn. l. iii. c. viii. st. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 21. That great worm.] So in Canto XXXIV Lucifer is called +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.<br/> +Ariosto has imitated Dante: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ch’ al gran verme infernal mette la briglia, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E che di lui come a lei par dispone. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Orl. Fur. c. xlvi. st. 76. +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. Ciacco.] So called from his inordinate appetite: Ciacco, in Italian, +signifying a pig. The real name of this glutton has not been transmitted to us. +He is introduced in Boccaccio’s Decameron, Giorn. ix. Nov. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. The divided city.] The city of Florence, divided into the Bianchi and +Neri factions. +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. The wild party from the woods.] So called, because it was headed by Veri +de’ Cerchi, whose family had lately come into the city from Acone, and +the woody country of the Val di Nievole. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. The other.] The opposite parts of the Neri, at the head of which was +Corso Donati. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. This must fall.] The Bianchi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Of one, who under shore Now rests.] Charles of Valois, by whose means +the Neri were replaced. +</p> + +<p> +v. 73. The just are two in number.] Who these two were, the commentators are +not agreed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Of Farinata and Tegghiaio.] See Canto X. and Notes, and Canto XVI, and +Notes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. Giacopo.] Giacopo Rusticucci. See Canto XVI, and Notes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. Arrigo, Mosca.] Of Arrigo, who is said by the commentators to have been +of the noble family of the Fifanti, no mention afterwards occurs. Mosca degli +Uberti is introduced in Canto XXVIII. v. +</p> + +<p> +108. Consult thy knowledge.] We are referred to the following passage in St. +Augustin:—“Cum fiet resurrectio carnis, et bonorum gaudia et +malorum tormenta majora erunt. “—At the resurrection of the flesh, +both the happiness of the good and the torments of the wicked will be +increased.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Ah me! O Satan! Satan!] Pape Satan, Pape Satan, aleppe. Pape is said by +the commentators to be the same as the Latin word papae! “strange!” +Of aleppe they do not give a more satisfactory account. See the Life of +Benvenuto Cellini, translated by Dr. Nugent, v. ii. b. iii c. vii. p 113, where +he mentions “having heard the words Paix, paix, Satan! allez, paix! in +the court of justice at Paris. I recollected what Dante said, when he with his +master Virgil entered the gates of hell: for Dante, and Giotto the painter, +were together in France, and visited Paris with particular attention, where the +court of justice may be considered as hell. Hence it is that Dante, who was +likewise perfect master of the French, made use of that expression, and I have +often been surprised that it was never understood in that sense.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. The first adulterer proud.] Satan. +</p> + +<p> +v. 22. E’en as a billow.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â As when two billows in the Irish sowndes +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Forcibly driven with contrarie tides +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Do meet together, each aback rebounds +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â With roaring rage, and dashing on all sides, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â That filleth all the sea with foam, divides +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â The doubtful current into divers waves. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Spenser, F.Q. b. iv. c. 1. st. 42. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Popes and cardinals.] Ariosto, having personified<br/> +Avarice as a strange and hideous monster, says of her— +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Peggio facea nella Romana corte +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che v’avea uccisi Cardinali e Papi. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Orl. Fur. c. xxvi. st. 32. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Worse did she in the court of Rome, for there +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â She had slain Popes and Cardinals. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. By necessity.] This sentiment called forth the reprehension of Cecco +d’Ascoli, in his Acerba, l. 1. c. i. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In cio peccasti, O Fiorentin poeta, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Herein, O bard of Florence, didst thou err +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Laying it down that fortune’s largesses +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Are fated to their goal. Fortune is none, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â That reason cannot conquer. Mark thou, Dante, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â If any argument may gainsay this. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 18. Phlegyas.] Phlegyas, who was so incensed against Apollo for having +violated his daughter Coronis, that he set fire to the temple of that deity, by +whose vengeance he was cast into Tartarus. See Virg. Aen. l. vi. 618. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. Filippo Argenti.] Boccaccio tells us, “he was a man remarkable for +the large proportions and extraordinary vigor of his bodily frame, and the +extreme waywardness and irascibility of his temper.” Decam. g. ix. n. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. The city, that of Dis is nam’d.] So Ariosto. Orl. Fur. c. xl. st. +32 +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. Seven times.] The commentators, says Venturi, perplex themselves with +the inquiry what seven perils these were from which Dante had been delivered by +Virgil. Reckoning the beasts in the first Canto as one of them, and adding +Charon, Minos, Cerberus, Plutus, Phlegyas and Filippo Argenti, as so many +others, we shall have the number, and if this be not satisfactory, we may +suppose a determinate to have been put for an indeterminate number. +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. At war ’twixt will and will not.] Che si, e no nel capo mi +tenzona. So Boccaccio, Ninf. Fiesol. st. 233. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Il si e il no nel capo gli contende.<br/> +The words I have adopted as a translation, are Shakespeare’s,<br/> +Measure for Measure. a. ii. s. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. This their insolence, not new.] Virgil assures our poet, that these +evil spirits had formerly shown the same insolence when our Savior descended +into hell. They attempted to prevent him from entering at the gate, over which +Dante had read the fatal inscription. “That gate which,” says the +Roman poet, “an angel has just passed, by whose aid we shall overcome +this opposition, and gain admittance into the city.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The hue.] Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with fear, restrained +those outward tokens of displeasure which his own countenance had betrayed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. Erictho.] Erictho, a Thessalian sorceress, according to Lucan, Pharsal. +l. vi. was employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the Great, to conjure up a spirit, +who should inform him of the issue of the civil wars between his father and +Caesar. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. No long space my flesh +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Was naked of me.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Quae corpus complexa animae tam fortis inane. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ovid. Met. l. xiii f. 2<br/> +Dante appears to have fallen into a strange anachronism. Virgil’s<br/> +death did not happen till long after this period. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. Adders and cerastes.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Virg. Aen. l. vi. 281. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â —spinaque vagi torquente cerastae +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â . . . et torrida dipsas +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Et gravis in geminum vergens eaput amphisbaena. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Lucan. Pharsal. l. ix. 719.<br/> +So Milton: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Cerastes horn’d, hydrus and elops drear, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And dipsas. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â P. L. b. x. 524. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. A wind.] Imitated by Berni, Orl. Inn. l. 1. e. ii. st. 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. With his wand.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â She with her rod did softly smite the raile +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Which straight flew ope. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Spenser. F. Q. b. iv. c. iii. st. 46. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. What profits at the fays to but the horn.] “Of what avail can it +be to offer violence to impassive beings?” +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Your Cerberus.] Cerberus is feigned to have been dragged by Hercules, +bound with a three fold chain, of which, says the angel, he still bears the +marks. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. The plains of Arles.] In Provence. See Ariosto, Orl. Fur. c. xxxix. st. +72 +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. At Pola.] A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of Quarnaro, in the +Adriatic sea. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO X</h5> + +<p> +v. 12. Josaphat.] It seems to have been a common opinion among the Jews, as +well as among many Christians, that the general judgment will be held in the +valley of Josaphat, or Jehoshaphat: “I will also gather all nations, and +will bring them down into the valley of Jehoshaphat, and will plead with them +there for my people, and for my heritage Israel, whom they have scattered among +the nations, and parted my land.” Joel, iii. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. Farinata.] Farinata degli Uberti, a noble Florentine, was the leader of +the Ghibelline faction, when they obtained a signal victory over the Guelfi at +Montaperto, near the river Arbia. Macchiavelli calls him “a man of +exalted soul, and great military talents.” Hist. of Flor. b. ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. A shade.] The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble Florentine, of +the Guelph party. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. My son.] Guido, the son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti; “he whom I call +the first of my friends,” says Dante in his Vita Nuova, where the +commencement of their friendship is related. >From the character given of +him by contemporary writers his temper was well formed to assimilate with that +of our poet. “He was,” according to G. Villani, l. viii. c. 41. +“of a philosophical and elegant mind, if he had not been too delicate and +fastidious.” And Dino Compagni terms him “a young and noble knight, +brave and courteous, but of a lofty scornful spirit, much addicted to solitude +and study.” Muratori. Rer. Ital. Script t. 9 l. 1. p. 481. He died, +either in exile at Serrazana, or soon after his return to Florence, December +1300, during the spring of which year the action of this poem is supposed to be +passing. v. 62. Guido thy son Had in contempt.] Guido Cavalcanti, being more +given to philosophy than poetry, was perhaps no great admirer of Virgil. Some +poetical compositions by Guido are, however, still extant; and his reputation +for skill in the art was such as to eclipse that of his predecessor and +namesake Guido Guinicelli, as we shall see in the Purgatory, Canto XI. His +“Canzone sopra il Terreno Amore” was thought worthy of being +illustrated by numerous and ample commentaries. Crescimbeni Ist. della Volg. +Poes. l. v. For a playful sonnet which Dante addressed to him, and a spirited +translation of it, see Hayley’s Essay on Epic Poetry, Notes to Ep. iii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. Saidst thou he had?] In Aeschylus, the shade of Darius is represented as +inquiring with similar anxiety after the fate of his son Xerxes. +</p> + +<h5>[GREEK HERE]</h5> + +<p> +Atossa: Xerxes astonish’d, desolate, alone—<br/> +Ghost of Dar: How will this end? Nay, pause not. Is he safe? +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The Persians. Potter’s Translation. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. Not yet fifty times.] “Not fifty months shall be passed, before +thou shalt learn, by woeful experience, the difficulty of returning from +banishment to thy native city” +</p> + +<p> +v.83. The slaughter.] “By means of Farinata degli Uberti, the Guelfi were +conquered by the army of King Manfredi, near the river Arbia, with so great a +slaughter, that those who escaped from that defeat took refuge not in Florence, +which city they considered as lost to them, but in Lucca.” Macchiavelli. +Hist. of Flor. b 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. Such orisons.] This appears to allude to certain prayers which were +offered up in the churches of Florence, for deliverance from the hostile +attempts of the Uberti. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. Singly there I stood.] Guido Novello assembled a council of the +Ghibellini at Empoli where it was agreed by all, that, in order to maintain the +ascendancy of the Ghibelline party in Tuscany, it was necessary to destroy +Florence, which could serve only (the people of that city beingvGuelfi) to +enable the party attached to the church to recover its strength. This cruel +sentence, passed upon so noble a city, met with no opposition from any of its +citizens or friends, except Farinata degli Uberti, who openly and without +reserve forbade the measure, affirming that he had endured so many hardships, +and encountered so many dangers, with no other view than that of being able to +pass his days in his own country. Macchiavelli. Hist. of Flor. b. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. My fault.] Dante felt remorse for not having returned an immediate +answer to the inquiry of Cavalcante, from which delay he was led to believe +that his son Guido was no longer living. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. Frederick.] The Emperor Frederick the Second, who died in 1250. See +Notes to Canto XIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. The Lord Cardinal.] Ottaviano Ubaldini, a Florentine, made Cardinal in +1245, and deceased about 1273. On account of his great influence, he was +generally known by the appellation of “the Cardinal.” It is +reported of him that he declared, if there were any such thing as a human soul, +he had lost his for the Ghibellini. +</p> + +<p> +v. 132. Her gracious beam.] Beatrice. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XI</h5> + +<p> +v. 9. Pope Anastasius.] The commentators are not agreed concerning the identity +of the person, who is here mentioned as a follower of the heretical Photinus. +By some he is supposed to have been Anastasius the Second, by others, the +Fourth of that name; while a third set, jealous of the integrity of the papal +faith, contend that our poet has confounded him with Anastasius 1. Emperor of +the East. +</p> + +<p> +v. 17. My son.] The remainder of the present Canto may be considered as a +syllabus of the whole of this part of the poem. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. And sorrows.] This fine moral, that not to enjoy our being is to be +ungrateful to the Author of it, is well expressed in Spenser, F. Q. b. iv. c. +viii. st. 15. For he whose daies in wilful woe are worne The grace of his +Creator doth despise, That will not use his gifts for thankless nigardise. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Cahors.] A city in Guienne, much frequented by usurers +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. Thy ethic page.] He refers to Aristotle’s Ethics. +</p> + +<h5>[GREEK HERE]</h5> + +<p> +“In the next place, entering, on another division of the subject, let it +be defined. that respecting morals there are three sorts of things to be +avoided, malice, incontinence, and brutishness.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Her laws.] Aristotle’s Physics. [GREEK HERE] “Art imitates +nature.” —See the Coltivazione of Alamanni, l. i. +</p> + +<p> +-I’arte umana, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Creation’s holy book.] Genesis, c. iii. v. 19. “In the +sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. The wain.] The constellation Bootes, or Charles’s wain. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XII</h5> + +<p> +v. 17. The king of Athens.] Theseus, who was enabled, by the instructions of +Ariadne, the sister of the Minotaur, to destroy that monster. +</p> + +<p> +v. 21. Like to a bull.] [GREEK HERE] Homer Il. xvii 522 +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â As when some vig’rous youth with sharpen’d axe +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â A pastur’d bullock smites behind the horns +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Springs forth and falls. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Cowper’s Translation. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. He arriv’d.] Our Saviour, who, according to Dante, when he +ascended from hell, carried with him the souls of the patriarchs, and other +just men, out of the first circle. See Canto IV. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. Nessus.] Our poet was probably induced, by the following<br/> +line in Ovid, to assign to Nessus the task of conducting them<br/> +over the ford: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Nessus edit membrisque valens scitusque vadorum. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Metam, l. ix.<br/> +And Ovid’s authority was Sophocles, who says of this Centaur—<br/> +[GREEK HERE] Trach.570 +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â He in his arms, Evenus’ stream +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Deep flowing, bore the passenger for hire +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Without or sail or billow cleaving oar. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Ezzolino.] Ezzolino, or Azzolino di Romano, a most cruel tyrant in the +Marca Trivigiana, Lord of Padua, Vicenza, Verona, and Brescia, who died in +1260. His atrocities form the subject of a Latin tragedy, called Eccerinis, by +Albertino Mussato, of Padua, the contemporary of Dante, and the most elegant +writer of Latin verse of that age. See also the Paradise, Canto IX. Berni Orl. +Inn. l ii c. xxv. st. 50. Ariosto. Orl. Fur. c. iii. st. 33. and Tassoni +Secchia Rapita, c. viii. st 11. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Obizzo’ of Este.] Marquis of Ferrara and of the Marca +d’Ancona, was murdered by his own son (whom, for the most unnatural act +Dante calls his step-son), for the sake of the treasures which his rapacity had +amassed. See Ariosto. Orl. Fur. c. iii. st 32. He died in 1293 according to +Gibbon. Ant. of the House of Brunswick. Posth. Works, v. ii. 4to. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. He.] “Henrie, the brother of this Edmund, and son to the foresaid +king of Almaine (Richard, brother of Henry III. of England) as he returned from +Affrike, where he had been with Prince Edward, was slain at Viterbo in Italy +(whither he was come about business which he had to do with the Pope) by the +hand of Guy de Montfort, the son of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, in +revenge of the same Simon’s death. The murther was committed afore the +high altar, as the same Henrie kneeled there to hear divine service.” +A.D. 1272, Holinshed’s chronicles p 275. See also Giov. Villani Hist. I. +vii. c. 40. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. On Sextus and on Pyrrhus.] Sextus either the son of Tarquin the Proud, +or of Pompey the Great: or as Vellutelli conjectures, Sextus Claudius Nero, and +Pyrrhus king of Epirus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 137. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The Rinieri, of Corneto this, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Pazzo the other named.]<br/> +Two noted marauders, by whose depredations the public ways in<br/> +Italy were infested. The latter was of the noble family of Pazzi<br/> +in Florence. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 10. Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream.] A wild and woody tract of +country, abounding in deer, goats, and wild boars. Cecina is a river not far to +the south of Leghorn, Corneto, a small city on the same coast in the patrimony +of the church. +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. The Strophades.] See Virg. Aen. l. iii. 210. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Broad are their pennons.] From Virg. Aen. l. iii. 216. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. In my verse described.] The commentators explain this, “If he +could have believed, in consequence of my assurances alone, that of which he +hath now had ocular proof, he would not have stretched forth his hand against +thee.” But I am of opinion that Dante makes Virgil allude to his own +story of Polydorus in the third book of the Aeneid. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. That pleasant word of thine.] “Since you have inveigled me to +speak my holding forth so gratifying an expectation, let it not displease you +if I am as it were detained in the snare you have spread for me, so as to be +somewhat prolix in my answer.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. I it was.] Pietro delle Vigne, a native of Capua, who, from a low +condition, raised himself by his eloquence and legal knowledge to the office of +Chancellor to the Emperor Frederick II. whose confidence in him was such, that +his influence in the empire became unbounded. The courtiers, envious of his +exalted situation, contrived, by means of forged letters, to make Frederick +believe that he held a secret and traitorous intercourse with the Pope, who was +then at enmity with the Emperor. In consequence of this supposed crime he was +cruelly condemned by his too credulous sovereign to lose his eyes, and, being +driven to despair by his unmerited calamity and disgrace, he put an end to his +life by dashing out his brains against the walls of a church, in the year 1245. +Both Frederick and Pietro delle Vigne composed verses in the Sicilian dialect +which are yet extant. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. The harlot.] Envy. Chaucer alludes to this in the<br/> +Prologue to the Legende of Good women. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Envie is lavender to the court alway, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â For she ne parteth neither night ne day +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Out of the house of Cesar; thus saith Dant. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Each fan o’ th’ wood.] Hence perhaps Milton: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â P. L. b. v. 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. Lano.] Lano, a Siennese, who, being reduced by prodigality to a state +of extreme want, found his existence no longer supportable; and, having been +sent by his countrymen on a military expedition, to assist the Florentine +against the Aretini, took that opportunity of exposing himself to certain +death, in the engagement which took place at Toppo near Arezzo. See G. Villani, +Hist. l. 7. c. cxix. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. O Giocomo Of Sant’ Andrea!] Jacopo da Sant’ Andrea, a +Paduan, who, having wasted his property in the most wanton acts of profusion, +killed himself in despair. v. 144. In that City.] “I was an inhabitant of +Florence, that city which changed her first patron Mars for St. John the +Baptist, for which reason the vengeance of the deity thus slighted will never +be appeased: and, if some remains of his status were not still visible on the +bridge over the Arno, she would have been already leveled to the ground; and +thus the citizens, who raised her again from the ashes to which Attila had +reduced her, would have laboured in vain.” See Paradise, Canto XVI. 44. +The relic of antiquity to which the superstition of Florence attached so high +an importance, was carried away by a flood, that destroyed the bridge on which +it stood, in the year 1337, but without the ill effects that were apprehended +from the loss of their fancied Palladium. +</p> + +<p> +v. 152. I slung the fatal noose.] We are not informed who this suicide was. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 15. By Cato’s foot.] See Lucan, Phars, l. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Dilated flakes of fire.] Compare Tasso. G. L. c. x. st. 61. +</p> + +<p> +v. 28. As, in the torrid Indian clime.] Landino refers to Albertus Magnus for +the circumstance here alluded to. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. In Mongibello.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â More hot than Aetn’ or flaming Mongibell. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Spenser, F. Q. b. ii. c. ix. st. 29.<br/> +See Virg. Aen. 1. viii. 416. and Berni. Orl. Inn 1. i. c. xvi.<br/> +st. 21. It would be endless to refer to parallel passages in the<br/> +Greek writers. +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. This of the seven kings was one.] Compare Aesch. Seven Chiefs, 425. +Euripides, Phoen. 1179 and Statius. Theb. l. x. 821. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Bulicame.] A warm medicinal spring near Viterbo, the waters of which, as +Landino and Vellutelli affirm, passed by a place of ill fame. Venturi, with +less probability, conjectures that Dante would imply, that it was the scene of +much licentious merriment among those who frequented its baths. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. Under whose monarch.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Credo pudicitiam Saturno rege moratam +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â In terris. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Juv. Satir. vi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. His head.] Daniel, ch. ii. 32, 33. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. Whither.] On the other side of Purgatory. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XV</h5> + +<p> +v. 10. Chiarentana.] A part of the Alps where the Brenta rises, which river is +much swoln as soon as the snow begins to dissolve on the mountains. +</p> + +<p> +v. 28. Brunetto.] “Ser Brunetto, a Florentine, the secretary or +chancellor of the city, and Dante’s preceptor, hath left us a work so +little read, that both the subject of it and the language of it have been +mistaken. It is in the French spoken in the reign of St. Louis,under the title +of Tresor, and contains a species of philosophical course of lectures divided +into theory and practice, or, as he expresses it, “un enchaussement des +choses divines et humaines,” &c. Sir R. Clayton’s Translation +of Tenhove’s Memoirs of the Medici, vol. i. ch. ii. p. 104. The Tresor +has never been printed in the original language. There is a fine manuscript of +it in the British Museum, with an illuminated portrait of Brunetto in his study +prefixed. Mus. Brit. MSS. 17, E. 1. Tesor. It is divided into four books, the +first, on Cosmogony and Theology, the second, a translation of +Aristotle’s Ethics; the third on Virtues and Vices; the fourth, on +Rhetoric. For an interesting memoir relating to this work, see Hist. de +l’Acad. des Inscriptions, tom. vii. 296. His Tesoretto, one of the +earliest productions of Italian poetry, is a curious work, not unlike the +writings of Chaucer in style and numbers, though Bembo remarks, that his pupil, +however largely he had stolen from it, could not have much enriched himself. As +it is perhaps but little known, I will here add a slight sketch of it. +</p> + +<p> +Brunetto describes himself as returning from an embassy to the King of Spain, +on which he had been sent by the Guelph party from Florence. On the plain of +Roncesvalles he meets a scholar on a bay mule, who tells him that the Guelfi +are driven out of the city with great loss. +</p> + +<p> +Struck with grief at these mournful tidings, and musing with his head bent +downwards, he loses his road, and wanders into a wood. Here Nature, whose +figure is described with sublimity, appears, and discloses to him the secrets +of her operations. After this he wanders into a desert; but at length proceeds +on his way, under the protection of a banner, with which Nature had furnished +him, till on the third day he finds himself in a large pleasant champaign, +where are assembled many emperors, kings, and sages. It is the habitation of +Virtue and her daughters, the four Cardinal Virtues. Here Brunetto sees also +Courtesy, Bounty, Loyalty, and Prowess, and hears the instructions they give to +a knight, which occupy about a fourth part of the poem. Leaving this territory, +he passes over valleys, mountains, woods, forests, and bridges, till he arrives +in a beautiful valley covered with flowers on all sides, and the richest in the +world; but which was continually shifting its appearance from a round figure to +a square, from obscurity to light, and from populousness to solitude. This is +the region of Pleasure, or Cupid, who is accompanied by four ladies, Love, +Hope, Fear, and Desire. In one part of it he meets with Ovid, and is instructed +by him how to conquer the passion of love, and to escape from that place. After +his escape he makes his confession to a friar, and then returns to the forest +of visions: and ascending a mountain, he meets with Ptolemy, a venerable old +man. Here the narrative breaks off. The poem ends, as it began, with an address +to Rustico di Filippo, on whom he lavishes every sort of praise. +</p> + +<p> +It has been observed, that Dante derived the idea of opening his poem by +describing himself as lost in a wood, from the Tesoretto of his master. I know +not whether it has been remarked, that the crime of usury is branded by both +these poets as offensive to God and Nature: or that the sin for which Brunetto +is condemned by his pupil, is mentioned in the Tesoretto with great horror. +Dante’s twenty-fifth sonnet is a jocose one, addressed to Brunetto. He +died in 1295. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. Who in old times came down from Fesole.] See G. Villani Hist. l. iv. c. +5. and Macchiavelli Hist. of Flor. b. ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. With another text.] He refers to the prediction of Farinata, in Canto X. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Priscian.] There is no reason to believe, as the commentators observe +that the grammarian of this name was stained with the vice imputed to him; and +we must therefore suppose that Dante puts the individual for the species, and +implies the frequency of the crime among those who abused the opportunities +which the education of youth afforded them, to so abominable a purpose. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Francesco.] Son of Accorso, a Florentine, celebrated for his skill in +jurisprudence, and commonly known by the name of Accursius. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Him.] Andrea de’ Mozzi, who, that his scandalous life might be +less exposed to observation, was translated either by Nicholas III, or Boniface +VIII from the see of Florence to that of Vicenza, through which passes the +river Baccchiglione. At the latter of these places he died. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. The servants’ servant.] Servo de’ servi. So Ariosto,<br/> +Sat. 3. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Degli servi +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Io sia il gran servo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. I commend my Treasure to thee.] Brunetto’s great work,<br/> +the Tresor.<br/> +Sieti raccomandato ’l mio Tesoro.<br/> +So Giusto de’ Conti, in his Bella Mano, Son. “Occhi:” +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Siavi raccommandato il mio Tesoro. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 38. Gualdrada.] Gualdrada was the daughter of Bellincione Berti, of whom +mention is made in the Paradise, Canto XV, and XVI. He was of the family of +Ravignani, a branch of the Adimari. +</p> + +<p> +The Emperor Otho IV. being at a festival in Florence, where Gualdrada was +present, was struck with her beauty; and inquiring who she was, was answered by +Bellincione, that she was the daughter of one who, if it was his +Majesty’s pleasure, would make her admit the honour of his salute. On +overhearing this, she arose from her seat, and blushing, in an animated tone of +voice, desired her father that he would not be so liberal in his offers, for +that no man should ever be allowed that freedom, except him who should be her +lawful husband. The Emperor was not less delighted by her resolute modesty than +he had before been by the loveliness of her person, and calling to him Guido, +one of his barons, gave her to him in marriage, at the same time raising him +</p> + +<p> +to the rank of a count, and bestowing on her the whole of Casentino, and a part +of the territory of Romagna, as her portion. Two sons were the offspring of +this union, Guglielmo and Ruggieri, the latter of whom was father of +Guidoguerra, a man of great military skill and prowess who, at the head of four +hundred Florentines of the Guelph party, was signally instrumental to the +victory obtained at Benevento by Charles of Anjou, over Manfredi, King of +Naples, in 1265. One of the consequences of this victory was the expulsion of +the Ghibellini, and the re-establishment of the Guelfi at Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Many a noble act.] Compare Tasso, G. L. c. i. st. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. Aldobrandiu] Tegghiaio Aldobrandi was of the noble family of Adimari, +and much esteemed for his military talents. He endeavored to dissuade the +Florentines from the attack, which they meditated against the Siennese, and the +rejection of his counsel occasioned the memorable defeat, which the former +sustained at Montaperto, and the consequent banishment of the Guelfi from +Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. Rusticucci.] Giacopo Rusticucci, a Florentine, remarkable for his +opulence and the generosity of his spirit. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. Borsiere.] Guglielmo Borsiere, another Florentine, whom Boccaccio, in a +story which he relates of him, terms “a man of courteous and elegant +manners, and of great readiness in conversation.” Dec. Giorn. i. Nov. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 84. When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Quando ti giovera dicere io fui.<br/> +So Tasso, G. L. c. xv. st. 38. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Quando mi giovera narrar altrui +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Le novita vedute, e dire; io fui. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. Ever to that truth.] This memorable apophthegm is repeated by Luigi +Pulci and Trissino. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sempre a quel ver, ch’ ha faccia di menzogna +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E piu senno tacer la lingua cheta +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che spesso senza colpa fa vergogna. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Morgante. Magg. c. xxiv. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â La verita, che par mensogna +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Si dovrebbe tacer dall’ uom ch’e saggio. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Italia. Lib. C. xvi. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The fell monster.] Fraud. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. A pouch.] A purse, whereon the armorial bearings of each were +emblazoned. According to Landino, our poet implies that the usurer can pretend +to no other honour, than such as he derives from his purse and his family. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. A yellow purse.] The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. Another.] Those of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine family of high +distinction. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. A fat and azure swine.] The arms of the Scrovigni a noble family of +Padua. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. Vitaliano.] Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. That noble knight.] Giovanni Bujamonti, a Florentine usurer, the most +infamous of his time. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 28. With us beyond.] Beyond the middle point they tended the same way with +us, but their pace was quicker than ours. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. E’en thus the Romans.] In the year 1300, Pope Boniface VIII., to +remedy the inconvenience occasioned by the press of people who were passing +over the bridge of St. Angelo during the time of the Jubilee, caused it to be +divided length wise by a partition, and ordered, that all those who were going +to St. Peter’s should keep one side, and those returning the other. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Venedico.] Venedico Caccianimico, a Bolognese, who prevailed on his +sister Ghisola to prostitute herself to Obizzo da Este, Marquis of Ferrara, +whom we have seen among the tyrants, Canto XII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. To answer Sipa.] He denotes Bologna by its situation between the rivers +Savena to the east, and Reno to the west of that city; and by a peculiarity of +dialect, the use of the affirmative sipa instead of si. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. Hypsipyle.] See Appolonius Rhodius, l. i. and Valerius Flaccus l.ii. +Hypsipyle deceived the other women by concealing her father Thoas, when they +had agreed to put all their males to death. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. Alessio.] Alessio, of an ancient and considerable family in Lucca, +called the Interminei. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Thais.] He alludes to that passage in the Eunuchus of Terence where +Thraso asks if Thais was obliged to him for the present he had sent her, and +Gnatho replies, that she had expressed her obligation in the most forcible +terms. T. Magnas vero agere gratias Thais mihi? G. Ingentes. Eun. a. iii. s. i. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIX</h5> + +<p> +v. 18. Saint John’s fair dome.] The apertures in the rock were of the +same dimensions as the fonts of St. John the Baptist at Florence, one of which, +Dante says he had broken, to rescue a child that was playing near and fell in. +He intimates that the motive of his breaking the font had been maliciously +represented by his enemies. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. O Boniface!] The spirit mistakes Dante for Boniface VIII. who was then +alive, and who he did not expect would have arrived so soon, in consequence, as +it should seem, of a prophecy, which predicted the death of that Pope at a +later period. Boniface died in 1303. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. In guile.] “Thou didst presume to arrive by fraudulent means at +the papal power, and afterwards to abuse it.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. In the mighty mantle I was rob’d.] Nicholas III, of the Orsini +family, whom the poet therefore calls “figliuol dell’ orsa,” +“son of the she-bear.” He died in 1281. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. From forth the west, a shepherd without law.] Bertrand de Got Archbishop +of Bordeaux, who succeeded to the pontificate in 1305, and assumed the title of +Clement V. He transferred the holy see to Avignon in 1308 (where it remained +till 1376), and died in 1314. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. A new Jason.] See Maccabees, b. ii. c. iv. 7,8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Nor Peter.] Acts of the Apostles, c.i. 26. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. The condemned soul.] Judas. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Against Charles.] Nicholas III. was enraged against Charles I, King of +Sicily, because he rejected with scorn a proposition made by that Pope for an +alliance between their families. See G. Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. liv. +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. Th’ Evangelist.] Rev. c. xvii. 1, 2, 3. Compare Petrarch. Opera +fol. ed. Basil. 1551. Epist. sine titulo liber. ep. xvi. p. 729. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Ah, Constantine.] He alludes to the pretended gift of the Lateran by +Constantine to Silvester, of which Dante himself seems to imply a doubt, in his +treatise “De Monarchia.” - “Ergo scindere Imperium, +Imperatori non licet. Si ergo aliquae, dignitates per Constantinum essent +alienatae, (ut dicunt) ab Imperio,” &c. l. iii. The gift is by +Ariosto very humorously placed in the moon, among the things lost or abused on +earth. Di varj fiori, &c. O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 80. +</p> + +<p> +Milton has translated both this passage and that in the text.<br/> +Prose works, vol. i. p. 11. ed. 1753. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XX</h5> + +<p> +v. 11. Revers’d.] Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. viii. st. 31 +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. Before whose eyes.] Amphiaraus, one of the seven kings who besieged +Thebes. He is said to have been swallowed up by an opening of the earth. See +Lidgate’s Storie of Thebes, Part III where it is told how the +“Bishop Amphiaraus” fell down to hell. And thus the devill for his +outrages, Like his desert payed him his wages. A different reason for his being +doomed thus to perish is assigned by Pindar. [GREEK HERE] Nem ix. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For thee, Amphiaraus, earth, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â By Jove’s all-riving thunder cleft +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Her mighty bosom open’d wide, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Thee and thy plunging steeds to hide, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Or ever on thy back the spear +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Of Periclymenus impress’d +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â A wound to shame thy warlike breast +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â For struck with panic fear +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â The gods’ own children flee. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. Tiresias.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Duo magnorum viridi coeuntia sylva +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ovid. Met. iii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. Aruns.] Aruns is said to have dwelt in the mountains of Luni (from +whence that territory is still called Lunigiana), above Carrara, celebrated for +its marble. Lucan. Phars. l. i. 575. So Boccaccio in the Fiammetta, l. iii. +“Quale Arunte,” &c. +</p> + +<p> +“Like Aruns, who amidst the white marbles of Luni, contemplated the +celestial bodies and their motions.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Manto.] The daughter of Tiresias of Thebes, a city dedicated to Bacchus. +From Manto Mantua, the country of Virgil derives its name. The Poet proceeds to +describe the situation of that place. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Between the vale.] The lake Benacus, now called the Lago di Garda, +though here said to lie between Garda, Val Camonica, and the Apennine, is, +however, very distant from the latter two +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. There is a spot.] Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of Trento, Verona, +and Brescia met. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Peschiera.] A garrison situated to the south of the lake, where it +empties itself and forms the Mincius. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. Casalodi’s madness.] Alberto da Casalodi, who had got possession +of Mantua, was persuaded by Pinamonte Buonacossi, that he might ingratiate +himself with the people by banishing to their +</p> + +<p> +own castles the nobles, who were obnoxious to them. No sooner was this done, +than Pinamonte put himself at the head of the populace, drove out Casalodi and +his adherents, and obtained the sovereignty for himself. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. So sings my tragic strain.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Suspensi Eurypilum scitatum oracula Phoebi +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Mittimus. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Virg. Aeneid. ii. 14. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. Michael Scot.] Sir Michael Scott, of Balwearie, astrologer to the +Emperor Frederick II. lived in the thirteenth century. For further particulars +relating to this singular man, see Warton’s History of English Poetry, +vol. i. diss. ii. and sect. ix. p 292, and the Notes to Mr. Scott’s +“Lay of the Last Minstrel,” a poem in which a happy use is made of +the traditions that are still current in North Britain concerning him. He is +mentioned by G. Villani. Hist. l. x. c. cv. and cxli. and l. xii. c. xviii. and +by Boccaccio, Dec. Giorn. viii. Nov. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. Guido Bonatti.] An astrologer of Forli, on whose skill Guido da +Montefeltro, lord of that place, so much relied, that he is reported never to +have gone into battle, except in the hour recommended to him as fortunate by +Bonatti. +</p> + +<p> +Landino and Vellutello, speak of a book, which he composed on the subject of +his art. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. Asdente.] A shoemaker at Parma, who deserted his business to practice +the arts of divination. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. Cain with fork of thorns.] By Cain and the thorns, or what is still +vulgarly called the Man in the Moon, the Poet denotes that luminary. The same +superstition is alluded to in the Paradise, Canto II. 52. The curious reader +may consult Brand on Popular Antiquities, 4to. 1813. vol. ii. p. 476. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXI</h5> + +<p> +v. 7. In the Venetians’ arsenal.] Compare Ruccellai, Le Api, 165, and +Dryden’s Annus Mirabilis, st. 146, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. One of Santa Zita’s elders.] The elders or chief magistrates of +Lucca, where Santa Zita was held in especial veneration. The name of this +sinner is supposed to have been Martino Botaio. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. Except Bonturo, barterers.] This is said ironically of Bonturo de’ +Dati. By barterers are meant peculators, of every description; all who traffic +the interests of the public for their own private advantage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Qui si nuota altrimenti che nel Serchio.<br/> +Serchio is the river that flows by Lucca. So Pulci, Morg. Mag.<br/> +c. xxiv. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Qui si nuota nel sangue, e non nel Serchio. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. From Caprona.] The surrender of the castle of Caprona to the combined +forces of Florence and Lucca, on condition that the garrison should march out +in safety, to which event Dante was a witness, took place in 1290. See G. +Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. 136. +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. Yesterday.] This passage fixes the era of Dante’s descent at Good +Friday, in the year 1300 (34 years from our blessed Lord’s incarnation +being added to 1266), and at the thirty-fifth year of our poet’s age. See +Canto I. v. 1. +</p> + +<p> +The awful event alluded to, the Evangelists inform us, happened “at the +ninth hour,” that is, our sixth, when “the rocks were rent,” +and the convulsion, according to Dante, was felt even in the depths in Hell. +See Canto XII. 38. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXII</h5> + +<p> +v. 16. In the church.] This proverb is repeated by Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xvii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 47. Born in Navarre’s domain.] The name of this peculator is said to +have been Ciampolo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. The good king Thibault.] “Thibault I. king of Navarre, died on the +8th of June, 1233, as much to be commended for the desire he showed of aiding +the war in the Holy Land, as reprehensible and faulty for his design of +oppressing the rights and privileges of the church, on which account it is said +that the whole kingdom was under an interdict for the space of three entire +years. Thibault undoubtedly merits praise, as for his other endowments, so +especially for his cultivation of the liberal arts, his exercise and knowledge +of music and poetry in which he much excelled, that he was accustomed to +compose verses and sing them to the viol, and to exhibit his poetical +compositions publicly in his palace, that they might be criticized by +all.” Mariana, History of Spain, b. xiii. c. 9. +</p> + +<p> +An account of Thibault, and two of his songs, with what were probably the +original melodies, may be seen in Dr. Burney’s History of Music, v. ii. +c. iv. His poems, which are in the French language, were edited by M. +l’Eveque de la Ravalliere. Paris. 1742. 2 vol. 12mo. Dante twice quotes +one of his verses in the Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. l. i. c. ix. and l. ii. c. v. +and refers to him again, l. ii. c. vi. +</p> + +<p> +From “the good king Thibault” are descended the good, but more +unfortunate monarch, Louis XVI. of France, and consequently the present +legitimate sovereign of that realm. See Henault, Abrege Chron. 1252, 2, 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. The friar Gomita.] He was entrusted by Nino de’ Visconti with the +government of Gallura, one of the four jurisdictions into which Sardinia was +divided. Having his master’s enemies in his power, he took a bribe from +them, and allowed them to escape. Mention of Nino will recur in the Notes to +Canto XXXIII. and in the Purgatory, Canto VIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. Michel Zanche.] The president of Logodoro, another of the four Sardinian +jurisdictions. See Canto XXXIII. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 5. Aesop’s fable.] The fable of the frog, who offered to carry the +mouse across a ditch, with the intention of drowning him when both were carried +off by a kite. It is not among those Greek Fables which go under the name of +Aesop. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. Monks in Cologne.] They wore their cowls unusually large. v. 66. +Frederick’s.] The Emperor Frederick II. is said to have punished those +who were guilty of high treason, by wrapping them up in lead, and casting them +into a furnace. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue.] It is observed by +Venturi, that the word “rance” does not here signify “rancid +or disgustful,” as it is explained by the old commentators, but +“orange-coloured,” in which sense it occurs in the Purgatory, Canto +II. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Joyous friars.] “Those who ruled the city of Florence on the part +of the Ghibillines, perceiving this discontent and murmuring, which they were +fearful might produce a rebellion against themselves, in order to satisfy the +people, made choice of two knights, Frati Godenti (joyous friars) of Bologna, +on whom they conferred the chief power in Florence. One named M. Catalano +de’ Malavolti, the other M. Loderingo di Liandolo; one an adherent of the +Guelph, the other of the Ghibelline party. It is to be remarked, that the +Joyous Friars were called Knights of St. Mary, and became knights on taking +that habit: their robes were white, the mantle sable, and the arms a white +field and red cross with two stars. Their office was to defend widows and +orphans; they were to act as mediators; they had internal regulations like +other religious bodies. The above-mentioned M. Loderingo was the founder of +that order. But it was not long before they too well deserved the appellation +given them, and were found to be more bent on enjoying themselves than on any +other subject. These two friars were called in by the Florentines, and had a +residence assigned them in the palace belonging to the people over against the +Abbey. Such was the dependence placed on the character of their order that it +was expected they would be impartial, and would save the commonwealth any +unnecessary expense; instead of which, though inclined to opposite parties, +they secretly and hypocritically concurred in promoting their own advantage +rather than the public good.” G. Villani, b. vii. c.13. This happened in +1266. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Gardingo’s vicinage.] The name of that part of the city which was +inhabited by the powerful Ghibelline family of Uberti, and destroyed under the +partial and iniquitous administration of Catalano and Loderingo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. That pierced spirit.] Caiaphas. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. The father of his consort.] Annas, father-in-law to Caiaphas. +</p> + +<p> +v. 146. He is a liar.] John, c. viii. 44. Dante had perhaps heard this text +from one of the pulpits in Bologna. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. In the year’s early nonage.] “At the latter part of January, +when the sun enters into Aquarius, and the equinox is drawing near, when the +hoar-frosts in the morning often wear the appearance of snow but are melted by +the rising sun.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. Vanquish thy weariness.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Quin corpus onustum +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Atque affigit humi divinae particulam aurae. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Hor. Sat. ii. l. ii. 78. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Of her sands.] Compare Lucan, Phars. l. ix. 703. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. Heliotrope.] The occult properties of this stone are described by +Solinus, c. xl, and by Boccaccio, in his humorous tale of Calandrino. Decam. G. +viii. N. 3. +</p> + +<p> +In Chiabrera’s Ruggiero, Scaltrimento begs of Sofia, who is<br/> +sending him on a perilous errand, to lend him the heliotrope. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In mia man fida +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â L’elitropia, per cui possa involarmi +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Secondo il mio talento agli occhi altrui. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â c. vi. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Trust to my hand the heliotrope, by which +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â I may at will from others’ eyes conceal me<br/> +Compare Ariosto, II Negromante, a. 3. s. 3. Pulci, Morg. Magg.<br/> +c xxv. and Fortiguerra, Ricciardetto, c. x. st. 17.<br/> +Gower in his Confessio Amantis, lib. vii, enumerates it among the<br/> +jewels in the diadem of the sun. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Jaspis and helitropius. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. The Arabian phoenix.] This is translated from Ovid,<br/> +Metam. l. xv. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Una est quae reparat, seque ipsa reseminat ales,<br/> +&c.<br/> +See also Petrarch, Canzone: +</p> + +<p> +“Qual piu,” &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. Vanni Fucci.] He is said to have been an illegitimate offspring of the +family of Lazari in Pistoia, and, having robbed the sacristy of the church of +St. James in that city, to have charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege, in +consequence of which accusation the latter suffered death. +</p> + +<p> +v. 142. Pistoia.] “In May 1301, the Bianchi party, of Pistoia, with the +assistance and favor of the Bianchi who ruled Florence, drove out the Neri +party from the former place, destroying their houses, Palaces and farms.” +Giov. Villani, Hist. l. viii. e xliv. +</p> + +<p> +v. 144. From Valdimagra.] The commentators explain this prophetical threat to +allude to the victory obtained by the Marquis Marcello Malaspina of Valdimagra +(a tract of country now called the Lunigiana) who put himself at the head of +the Neri and defeated their opponents the Bianchi, in the Campo Piceno near +Pistoia, soon after the occurrence related in the preceding note. +</p> + +<p> +Of this engagement I find no mention in Villani. Currado Malaspina is +introduced in the eighth Canto of Purgatory; where it appears that, although on +the present occaision they espoused contrary sides, some important favours were +nevertheless conferred by that family on our poet at a subsequent perid of his +exile in 1307. +</p> + +<p> +Canto XXV +</p> + +<p> +v.1. The sinner ] So Trissino +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Poi facea con le man le fiche al cielo +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Dicendo: Togli, Iddio; che puoi piu farmi? +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â L’ital. Lib. c. xii +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. Thy seed] Thy ancestry. +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Not him] Capanaeus. Canto XIV. +</p> + +<p> +v. 18. On Marenna’s marsh.] An extensive tract near the sea-shore in +Tuscany. +</p> + +<p> +v. 24. Cacus.] Virgil, Aen. l. viii. 193. +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. A hundred blows.] Less than ten blows, out of the hundred Hercules gave +him, deprived him of feeling. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Cianfa] He is said to have been of the family of Donati at Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. Thus up the shrinking paper.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â —All my bowels crumble up to dust. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â I am a scribbled form, drawn up with a pen +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Upon a parchment; and against this fire +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Do I shrink up. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Shakespeare, K. John, a. v. s. 7. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Agnello.] Agnello Brunelleschi +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. In that part.] The navel. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â O Rome! thy head +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Is drown’d in sleep, and all thy body fev’ry. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ben Jonson’s Catiline. +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. Lucan.] Phars. l. ix. 766 and 793. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. Ovid.] Metam. l. iv. and v. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. His sharpen’d visage.] Compare Milton, P. L. b. x. 511 &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Buoso.] He is said to have been of the Donati family. +</p> + +<p> +v. 138. Sciancato.] Puccio Sciancato, a noted robber, whose familly, Venturi +says, he has not been able to discover. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Gaville.] Francesco Guercio Cavalcante was killed at Gaville, near +Florence; and in revenge of his death several inhabitants of that district were +put to death. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 7. But if our minds.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Namque sub Auroram, jam dormitante lucerna, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Somnia quo cerni tempore vera solent. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ovid, Epist. xix +</p> + +<p> +The same poetical superstition is alluded to in the Purgatory,<br/> +Cant. IX. and XXVII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 9. Shall feel what Prato.] The poet prognosticates the calamities which were +soon to befal his native city, and which he says, even her nearest neighbor, +Prato, would wish her. The calamities more particularly pointed at, are said to +be the fall of a wooden bridge over the Arno, in May, 1304, where a large +multitude were assembled to witness a representation of hell nnd the infernal +torments, in consequence of which accident many lives were lost; and a +conflagration that in the following month destroyed more than seventeen hundred +houses, many ofthem sumptuous buildings. See G. Villani, Hist. l. viii. c. 70 +and 71. +</p> + +<p> +v. 22. More than I am wont.] “When I reflect on the punishment allotted +to those who do not give sincere and upright advice to others I am more anxious +than ever not to abuse to so bad a purpose those talents, whatever they may be, +which Nature, or rather Providence, has conferred on me.” It is probable +that this declaration was the result of real feeling Textd have given great +weight to any opinion or party he had espoused, and to whom indigence and exile +might have offerred strong temptations to deviate from that line of conduct +which a strict sense of duty prescribed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 35. as he, whose wrongs.] Kings, b. ii. c. ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 54. ascending from that funeral pile.] The flame is said to<br/> +have divided on the funeral pile which consumed tile bodies of<br/> +Eteocles and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that<br/> +actuated them while living. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ecce iterum fratris, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Statius, Theb. l. xii. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ostendens confectas flamma, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Lucan, Pharsal. l. 1. 145. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. The ambush of the horse.] “The ambush of the wooden horse, that +caused Aeneas to quit the city of Troy and seek his fortune in Italy, where his +descendants founded the Roman empire.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. Caieta.] Virgil, Aeneid. l. vii. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. Nor fondness for my son] Imitated hp Tasso, G. L. c.<br/> +viii. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ne timor di fatica o di periglio, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ne vaghezza del regno, ne pietade +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Del vecchio genitor, si degno affetto +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Intiepedir nel generoso petto.<br/> +This imagined voyage of Ulysses into the Atlantic is alluded to<br/> +by Pulci. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â E sopratutto commendava Ulisse, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Che per veder nell’ altro mondo gisse. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Morg. Magg. c. xxv<br/> +And by Tasso, G. L. c. xv. 25. +</p> + +<p> +v. 106. The strait pass.] The straits of Gibraltar. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. Made our oars wings.l So Chiabrera, Cant. Eroiche. xiii Faro +de’remi un volo. And Tasso Ibid. 26. +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. A mountain dim.] The mountain of Purgatorg +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVII.</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. The Sicilian Bull.] The engine of torture invented by Perillus, for the +tyrant Phalaris. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Of the mountains there.] Montefeltro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. Polenta’s eagle.] Guido Novello da Polenta, who bore an eagle for +his coat of arms. The name of Polenta was derived from a castle so called in +the neighbourhood of Brittonoro. Cervia is a small maritime city, about fifteen +miles to the south of Ravenna. Guido was the son of Ostasio da Polenta, and +made himself master of Ravenna, in 1265. In 1322 he was deprived of his +sovereignty, and died at Bologna in the year following. This last and most +munificent patron of Dante is himself enumerated, by the historian of Italian +literature, among the poets of his time. Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital. +t. v. 1. iii. c. ii. 13. The passnge in the text might have removed the +uncertainty wwhich Tiraboschi expressed, respecting the duration of +Guido’s absence from Ravenna, when he was driven from that city in 1295, +by the arms of Pietro, archbishop of Monreale. It must evidently have been very +short, since his government is here represented (in 1300) as not having +suffered any material disturbance for many years. +</p> + +<p> +v. 41. The land.l The territory of Forli, the inhabitants of which, in 1282, +mere enabled, hy the strategem of Guido da Montefeltro, who then governed it, +to defeat with great slaughter the French army by which it had been besieged. +See G. Villani, l. vii. c. 81. The poet informs Guido, its former ruler, that +it is now in the possession of Sinibaldo Ordolaffi, or Ardelaffi, whom he +designates by his coat of arms, a lion vert. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. The old mastiff of Verucchio and the young.] Malatesta and Malatestino +his son, lords of Rimini, called, from their ferocity, the mastiffs of +Verruchio, which was the name of their castle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. Montagna.] Montagna de’Parcitati, a noble knight, and leader of +the Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by Malatestino. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Lamone’s city and Santerno’s.] Lamone is the river at +Faenza, and Santerno at Imola. +</p> + +<p> +v. 47. The lion of the snowy lair.] Machinardo Pagano, whose arms were a lion +azure on a field argent; mentioned again in the Purgatory, Canto XIV. 122. See +G. Villani passim, where he is called Machinardo da Susinana. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Whose flank is wash’d of SSavio’s wave.] Cesena, situated at +the foot of a mountain, and washed by the river Savio, that often descends with +a swoln and rapid stream from the Appenine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. A man of arms.] Guido da Montefeltro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 68. The high priest.] Boniface VIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. The nature of the lion than the fox.] Non furon leonine ma di volpe. So +Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xix. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â E furon le sua opre e le sue colpe +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Non creder leonine ma di volpe. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. The chief of the new Pharisee.] Boniface VIII. whose enmity to the +family of Colonna prompted him to destroy their houses near the Lateran. +Wishing to obtain possession of their other seat, Penestrino, he consulted with +Guido da Montefeltro how he might accomplish his purpose, offering him at the +same time absolution for his past sins, as well as for that which he was then +tempting him to commit. Guido’s advice was, that kind words and fair +promises nonld put his enemies into his power; and they accordingly soon +aftermards fell into the snare laid for them, A.D. 1298. See G. Villani, l. +viii. c. 23. +</p> + +<p> +v. 84. Nor against Acre one Had fought.] He alludes to the renegade Christians, +by whom the Saracens, in Apri., 1291, were assisted to recover St.John +d’Acre, the last possession of the Christians in the Iloly Land. The +regret expressed by the Florentine annalist G. Villani, for the loss of this +valuable fortress, is well worthy of observation, l. vii. c. 144. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. As in Soracte Constantine besought.] So in Dante’s treatise De +Monarchia: “Dicunt quidam adhue, quod Constantinus Imperator, mundatus a +lepra intercessione Syvestri, tunc summni pontificis imperii sedem, scilicet +Romam, donavit ecclesiae, cum multis allis imperii dignitatibus.” +Lib.iii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. My predecessor.] Celestine V. See Notes to Canto III. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVIII.</h5> + +<p> +v.8. In that long war.] The war of Hannibal in Italy. “When Mago brought +news of his victories to Carthage, in order to make his successes more easily +credited, he commanded the golden rings to be poured out in the senate house, +which made so large a heap, that, as some relate, they filled three modii and a +half. A more probable account represents them not to have exceeded one +modius.” Livy, Hist. +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. Guiscard’s Norman steel.] Robert Guiscard, who conquered the +kingdom of Naples, and died in 1110. G. Villani, l. iv. c. 18. He is introduced +in the Paradise, Canto XVIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. And those the rest.] The army of Manfredi, which, through the treachery +of the Apulian troops, wns overcome by Charles of Anjou in 1205, and fell in +such numbers that the bones of the slain were still gathered near Ceperano. G. +Villani, l. vii. c. 9. See the Purgatory, Canto III. +</p> + +<p> +v. 10. O Tagliocozzo.] He alludes to tile victory which Charles gained over +Conradino, by the sage advice of the Sieur de Valeri, in 1208. G. Villani, l. +vii. c. 27. +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. Ali.] The disciple of Mohammed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Dolcino.] “In 1305, a friar, called Dolcino, who belonged to no +regular order, contrived to raise in Novarra, in Lombardy, a large company of +the meaner sort of people, declaring himself to be a true apostle of Christ, +and promulgating a community of property and of wives, with many other such +heretical doctrines. He blamed the pope, cardinals, and other prelates of the +holy church, for not observing their duty, nor leading the angelic life, and +affirmed that he ought to be pope. He was followed by more than three thousand +men and women, who lived promiscuously on the mountains together, like beasts, +and, when they wanted provisions, supplied themselves by depredation and +rapine. This lasted for two years till, many being struck with compunction at +the dissolute life they led, his sect was much diminished; and through failure +of food, and the severity of the snows, he was taken by the people of Novarra, +and burnt, with Margarita his companion and many other men and women whom his +errors had seduced.” G. Villanni, l. viii. c. 84. +</p> + +<p> +Landino observes, that he was possessed of singular eloquence, and that both he +and Margarita endored their fate with a firmness worthy of a better cause. For +a further account of him, see Muratori Rer. Ital. Script. t. ix. p. 427. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Medicina.] A place in the territory of Bologna. Piero fomented +dissensions among the inhabitants of that city, and among the leaders of the +neighbouring states. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. The pleasant land.] Lombardy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. The twain.] Guido dal Cassero and Angiolello da Cagnano, two of the +worthiest and most distinguished citizens of Fano, were invited by Malatestino +da Rimini to an entertainment on pretence that he had some important business +to transact with them: and, according to instructions given by him, they mere +drowned in their passage near Catolica, between Rimini and Fano. +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. Focara’s wind.] Focara is a mountain, from which a wind blows that +is peculiarly dangerous to the navigators of that coast. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. The doubt in Caesar’s mind.] Curio, whose speech (according to +Lucan) determined Julius Caesar to proceed when he had arrived at Rimini (the +ancient Ariminum), and doubted whether he should prosecute the civil war. Tolle +moras: semper nocuit differre paratis Pharsal, l. i. 281. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. Mosca.] Buondelmonte was engaged to marry a lady of the Amidei family, +but broke his promise and united himself to one of the Donati. This was so much +resented by the former, that a meeting of themselves and their kinsmen was +held, to consider of the best means of revenging the insult. Mosca degli Uberti +persuaded them to resolve on the assassination of Buondelmonte, exclaiming to +them “the thing once done, there is an end.” The counsel and its +effects were the source of many terrible calamities to the state of Florence. +“This murder,” says G. Villani, l. v. c. 38, “was the cause +and beginning of the accursed Guelph and Ghibelline parties in Florence.” +It happened in 1215. See the Paradise, Canto XVI. 139. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. The boon companion.] What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? +Shakespeare, 2 Hen. VI. a. iii. s. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 160. Bertrand.] Bertrand de Born, Vicomte de Hautefort, near Perigueux in +Guienne, who incited John to rebel against his father, Henry II. of England. +Bertrand holds a distinguished place among the Provencal poets. He is quoted in +Dante, “De Vulg. Eloq.” l. ii. c. 2. For the translation of some +extracts from his poems, see Millot, Hist. Litteraire des Troubadors t. i. p. +210; but the historical parts of that work are, I believe, not to be relied on. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIX.</h5> + +<p> +v. 26. Geri of Bello.] A kinsman of the Poet’s, who was murdered by one +of the Sacchetti family. His being placed here, may be considered as a proof +that Dante was more impartial in the allotment of his punishments than has +generally been supposed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. As were the torment.] It is very probable that these<br/> +lines gave Milton the idea of his celebrated description: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Immediately a place +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Before their eyes appear’d, sad, noisome, dark, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â A lasar-house it seem’d, wherein were laid +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Numbers of all diseas’d, all maladies, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â P. L. b. xi. 477. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. Valdichiana.] The valley through which passes the river Chiana, bounded +by Arezzo, Cortona, Montepulciano, and Chiusi. In the heat of autumn it was +formerly rendered unwholesome by the stagnation of the water, but has since +been drained by the Emperor Leopold II. The Chiana is mentioned as a remarkably +sluggish stream, in the Paradise, Canto XIII. 21. +</p> + +<p> +v. 47. Maremma’s pestilent fen.] See Note to Canto XXV. v. 18. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. In Aegina.] He alludes to the fable of the ants changed into Myrmidons. +Ovid, Met. 1. vii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Arezzo was my dwelling.] Grifolino of Arezzo, who promised Albero, son +of the Bishop of Sienna, that he would teach him the art of flying; and because +be did not keep his promise, Albero prevailed on his father to have him burnt +for a necromancer. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Was ever race +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Light as Sienna’s?]<br/> +The same imputation is again cast on the Siennese, Purg. Canto<br/> +XIII. 141. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. Stricca.] This is said ironically. Stricca, Niccolo Salimbeni, Caccia +of Asciano, and Abbagliato, or Meo de Folcacchieri, belonged to a company of +prodigal and luxurious young men in Sienna, called the “brigata +godereccia.” Niccolo was the inventor of a new manner of using cloves in +cookery, not very well understood by the commentators, and which was termed the +“costuma ricca.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. In that garden.] Sienna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 134. Cappocchio’s ghost.] Capocchio of Sienna, who is said to have +been a fellow-student of Dante’s in natural philosophy. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXX.</h5> + +<p> +v. 4. Athamas.] From Ovid, Metam. 1. iv. Protinos Aelides, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 16. Hecuba. See Euripedes, Hecuba; and Ovid, Metnm. l. xiii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 33. Schicchi.] Gianni Schicci, who was of the family of Cavalcanti, +possessed such a faculty of moulding his features to the resemblance of others, +that he was employed by Simon Donati to personate Buoso Donati, then recently +deceased, and to make a will, leaving Simon his heir; for which service he was +renumerated with a mare of extraordinary value, here called “the lady of +the herd.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Myrrha.] See Ovid, Metam. l. x. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. Adamo’s woe.] Adamo of Breschia, at the instigation of Cuido +Alessandro, and their brother Aghinulfo, lords of Romena, coonterfeited the +coin of Florence; for which crime he was burnt. Landino says, that in his time +the peasants still pointed out a pile of stones near Romena as the place of his +execution. +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. Casentino.] Romena is a part of Casentino. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. Branda’s limpid spring.] A fountain in Sienna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. The florens with three carats of alloy.] The floren was a coin that +ought to have had tmenty-four carats of pure gold. Villani relates, that it was +first used at Florence in 1253, an aera of great prosperity in the annals of +the republic; before which time their most valuable coinage was of silver. +Hist. l. vi. c. 54. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. The false accuser.] Potiphar’s wife. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXI.</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The very tongue.] Vulnus in Herculeo quae quondam fecerat hoste Vulneris +auxilium Pellas hasta fuit. Ovid, Rem. Amor. 47. The same allusion was made by +Bernard de Ventadour, a Provencal poet in the middle of the twelfth century: +and Millot observes, that it was a singular instance of erudition in a +Troubadour. But it is not impossible, as Warton remarks, (Hist. of Engl. +Poetry, vol. ii. sec. x. p 215.) but that he might have been indebted for it to +some of the early romances. +</p> + +<p> +In Chaucer’s Squier’s Tale, a sword of similar quality is<br/> +introduced: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And other folk have wondred on the sweard, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â That could so piercen through every thing; +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And fell in speech of Telephus the king, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â And of Achillcs for his queint spere, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â For he couth with it both heale and dere.<br/> +So Shakspeare, Henry VI. p. ii. a. 5. s. 1. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Whose smile and frown like to Achilles’ spear +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Is able with the change to kill and cure. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Orlando.l When Charlemain with all his peerage fell At Fontarabia +Milton, P. L. b. i. 586. See Warton’s Hist. of Eng. Poetrg, v. i. sect. +iii. p. 132. “This is the horn which Orlando won from the giant Jatmund, +and which as Turpin and the Islandic bards report, was endued with magical +power, and might be heard at the distance of twenty miles.” Charlemain +and Orlando are introduced in the Paradise, Canto XVIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. Montereggnon.] A castle near Sienna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 105. The fortunate vale.] The country near Carthage. See Liv. Hist. l. xxx. +and Lucan, Phars. l. iv. 590. Dante has kept the latter of these writers in his +eye throughout all this passage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. Alcides.] The combat between Hercules Antaeus is adduced by the Poet in +his treatise “De Monarchia,” l. ii. as a proof of the judgment of +God displayed in the duel, according to the singular superstition of those +times. +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. The tower of Carisenda.] The leaning tower at Bologna +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXII.</h5> + +<p> +v. 8. A tongue not us’d To infant babbling.] Ne da lingua, che chiami +mamma, o babbo. Dante in his treatise “ De Vulg. Eloq.” speaking of +words not admissble in the loftier, or as he calls it, tragic style of poetry, +says- “In quorum numero nec puerilia propter suam simplicitatem ut Mamma +et Babbo,” l. ii. c. vii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Tabernich or Pietrapana.] The one a mountain in Sclavonia, the other in +that tract of country called the Garfagnana, not far from Lucca. +</p> + +<p> +v. 33. To where modest shame appears.] “As high as to the face.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 35. Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.] Mettendo i denti in +nota di cicogna. So Boccaccio, G. viii. n. 7. “Lo scolar cattivello quasi +cicogna divenuto si forte batteva i denti.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Who are these two.] Alessandro and Napoleone, sons of Alberto Alberti, +who murdered each other. They were proprietors of the valley of Falterona, +where the Bisenzio has its source, a river that falls into the Arno about six +miles from Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. Not him,] Mordrec, son of King Arthur. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. Foccaccia.] Focaccia of Cancellieri, (the Pistoian family) whose +atrocious act of revenge against his uncle is said to have given rise to the +parties of the Bianchi and Neri, in the year 1300. See G. Villani, Hist. l, +viii. c. 37. and Macchiavelli, Hist. l. ii. The account of the latter writer +differs much from that given by Landino in his Commentary. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. Mascheroni.] Sassol Mascheroni, a Florentiue, who also murdered his +uncle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. Camiccione.] Camiccione de’ Pazzi of Valdarno, by whom his kinsman +Ubertino was treacherously pnt to death. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. Carlino.] One of the same family. He betrayed the Castel di Piano +Travigne, in Valdarno, to the Florentines, after the refugees of the Bianca and +Ghibelline party had defended it against a siege for twenty-nine days, in the +summer of 1302. See G. Villani, l. viii. c. 52 and Dino Compagni, l. ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. Montaperto.] The defeat of the Guelfi at Montaperto, occasioned by the +treachery of Bocca degli Abbati, who, during the engagement, cut off the hand +of Giacopo del Vacca de’Pazzi, bearer of the Florentine standard. G. +Villani, l. vi. c. 80, and Notes to Canto X. This event happened in 1260. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Him of Duera.] Buoso of Cremona, of the family of Duera, who was bribed +by Guy de Montfort, to leave a pass between Piedmont and Parma, with the +defence of which he had been entrusted by the Ghibellines, open to the army of +Charles of Anjou, A.D. 1265, at which the people of Cremona were so enraged, +that they extirpated the whole family. G. Villani, l. vii. c. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Beccaria.] Abbot of Vallombrosa, who was the Pope’s Legate at +Florence, where his intrigues in favour of the Ghibellines being discovered, he +was beheaded. I do not find the occurrence in Vallini, nor do the commentators +say to what pope he was legate. By Landino he is reported to have been from +Parma, by Vellutello from Pavia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Soldanieri.] “Gianni Soldanieri,” says Villani, Hist. l. +vii. c14, “put himself at the head of the people, in the hopes of rising +into power, not aware that the result would be mischief to the Ghibelline +party, and his own ruin; an event which seems ever to have befallen him, who +has headed the populace in Florence.” A.D. 1266. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Ganellon.] The betrayer of Charlemain, mentioned by Archbishop Turpin. +He is a common instance of treachery with the poets of the middle ages. Trop +son fol e mal pensant, Pis valent que Guenelon. Thibaut, roi de Navarre O new +Scariot, and new Ganilion, O false dissembler, &c. Chaucer, Nonne’s +Prieste’s Tale And in the Monke’s Tale, Peter of Spaine. v. 119. +Tribaldello.] Tribaldello de’Manfredi, who was bribed to betray the city +of Faonza, A. D. 1282. G. Villani, l. vii. c. 80 +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. Tydeus.] See Statius, Theb. l. viii. ad finem. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXIII.</h5> + +<p> +v. 14. Count Ugolino.] “In the year 1288, in the month of July, Pisa was +much divided by competitors for the sovereignty; one party, composed of certain +of the Guelphi, being headed by the Judge Nino di Gallura de’Visconti; +another, consisting of others of the same faction, by the Count Ugolino +de’ Gherardeschi; and the third by the Archbishop Ruggieri degli +Ubaldini, with the Lanfranchi, Sismondi, Gualandi, and other Ghibelline houses. +The Count Ugolino,to effect his purpose, united with the Archbishop and his +party, and having betrayed Nino, his sister’s son, they contrived that he +and his followers should either be driven out of Pisa, or their persons seized. +Nino hearing this, and not seeing any means of defending himself, retired to +Calci, his castle, and formed an alliance with the Florentines and people of +Lucca, against the Pisans. The Count, before Nino was gone, in order to cover +his treachery, when everything was settled for his expulsion, quitted Pisa, and +repaired to a manor of his called Settimo; whence, as soon as he was informed +of Nino’s departure, he returned to Pisa with great rejoicing and +festivity, and was elevated to the supreme power with every demonstration of +triumph and honour. But his greatness was not of long continuauce. It pleased +the Almighty that a total reverse of fortune should ensue, as a punishment for +his acts of treachery and guilt: for he was said to have poisoned the Count +Anselmo da Capraia, his sister’s son, on account of the envy and fear +excited in his mind by the high esteem in which the gracious manners of Anselmo +were held by the Pisans. The power of the Guelphi being so much diminished, the +Archbishop devised means to betray the Count Uglino and caused him to be +suddenly attacked in his palace by the fury of the people, whom he had +exasperated, by telling them that Ugolino had betrayed Pisa, and given up their +castles to the citizens of Florence and of Lucca. He was immediately compelled +to surrender; his bastard son and his grandson fell in the assault; and two of +his sons, with their two sons also, were conveyed to prison.” G. Villani +l. vii. c. 120. +</p> + +<p> +“In the following march, the Pisans, who had imprisoned the Count Uglino, +with two of his sons and two of his grandchildren, the offspring of his son the +Count Guelfo, in a tower on the Piazza of the Anzania, caused the tower to be +locked, the key thrown into the Arno, and all food to be withheld from them. In +a few days they died of hunger; but the Count first with loud cries declared +his penitence, and yet neither priest nor friar was allowed to shrive him. All +the five, when dead, were dragged out of the prison, and meanly interred; and +from thence forward the tower was called the tower of famine, and so shall ever +be.” Ibid. c. 127. +</p> + +<p> +Chancer has briefly told Ugolino’s story. See Monke’s Tale,<br/> +Hugeline of Pise. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Unto the mountain.] The mountain S. Giuliano, between Pisa and Lucca. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. Thou gav’st.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Tu ne vestisti +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia.<br/> +Imitated by Filicaja, Canz. iii. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Di questa imperial caduca spoglia +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Tu, Signor, me vestisti e tu mi spoglia: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Ben puoi’l Regno me tor tu che me’l desti.<br/> +And by Maffei, in the Merope: +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Tu disciogleste +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Queste misere membra e tu le annodi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. In that fair region.] Del bel paese la, dove’l si suona. Italy as +explained by Dante himself, in his treatise De Vulg. Eloq. l. i. c. 8. +“Qui autem Si dicunt a praedictis finibus. (Januensiem) Oreintalem +(Meridionalis Europae partem) tenent; videlicet usque ad promontorium illud +Italiae, qua sinus Adriatici maris incipit et Siciliam.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Capraia and Gorgona.] Small islands near the mouth of the Arno. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. There very weeping suffers not to weep,] Lo pianto stesso li pianger non +lascia. So Giusto de’Conti, Bella Mano. Son. “Quanto il +ciel.” Che il troppo pianto a me pianger non lassa. v. 116. The friar +Albigero.] Alberigo de’Manfredi, of Faenza, one of the Frati Godenti, +Joyons Friars who having quarrelled with some of his brotherhood, under +pretence of wishing to be reconciled, invited them to a banquet, at the +conclusion of which he called for the fruit, a signal for the assassins to rush +in and dispatch those whom he had marked for destruction. Hence, adds Landino, +it is said proverbially of one who has been stabbed, that he has had some of +the friar Alberigo’s fruit. Thus Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xxv. Le frutte +amare di frate Alberico. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. Ptolomea.] This circle is named Ptolomea from Ptolemy, the son of +Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons were murdered, at a great banquet he had +made for them. See Maccabees, ch xvi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. The glazed tear-drops.] +</p> + +<p> +-sorrow’s eye, glazed with blinding tears. Shakspeare, Rich. II. a. 2. s. +2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Branca Doria.] The family of Doria was possessed of great influence in +Genoa. Branca is said to have murdered his father-in-law, Michel Zanche, +introduced in Canto XXII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 162 Romagna’s darkest spirit.] The friar Alberigo. +</p> + +<p> +Canto XXXIV. +</p> + +<p> +v. 6. A wind-mill.] The author of the Caliph Vathek, in the notes to that tale, +justly observes, that it is more than probable that Don Quixote’s mistake +of the wind-mills for giants was suggested to Cervantes by this simile. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. Three faces.] It can scarcely be doubted but that Milton derived his +description of Satan in those lines, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Each passion dimm’d his face +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Thrice chang’d with pale, ire, envy, and despair. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â P. L. b. iv. 114.<br/> +from this passage, coupled with the remark of Vellutello upon it: +</p> + +<p> +“The first of these sins is anger which he signifies by the red face; the +second, represented by that between pale and yellow is envy and not, as others +have said, avarice; and the third, denoted by the black, is a melancholy humour +that causes a man’s thoughts to be dark and evil, and averse from all joy +and tranquillity.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. Sails.] +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â —His sail-broad vans +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â He spreads for flight. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Milton, P. L. b. ii. 927.<br/> +Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. xi. st. 10; Ben Jonson’s Every<br/> +Man out of his humour, v. 7; and Fletcher’s Prophetess, a. 2. s.<br/> +3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Like a bat.] The description of an imaginary being, who is called +Typhurgo, in the Zodiacus Vitae, has some touches very like this of +Dante’s Lucifer. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ingentem vidi regem ingentique sedentem +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â In solio, crines flammanti stemmate cinctum +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â —-utrinque patentes +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Alae humeris magnae, quales vespertilionum +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Membranis contextae amplis— +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Nudus erat longis sed opertus corpora villis. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â M. Palingenii, Zod. Vit. l. ix. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â A mighty king I might discerne, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Plac’d hie on lofty chaire, +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â His haire with fyry garland deckt +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Puft up in fiendish wise. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â x x x x x x +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Large wings on him did grow +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Framde like the wings of flinder mice, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Googe’s Translation +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Brutus.] Landino struggles, but I fear in vain, to extricate Brutus from +the unworthy lot which is here assigned him. He maintains, that by Brutus and +Cassius are not meant the individuals known by those names, but any who put a +lawful monarch to death. Yet if Caesar was such, the conspirators might be +regarded as deserving of their doom. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. Within one hour and half of noon.] The poet uses the Hebrew manner of +computing the day, according to which the third hour answers to our twelve +o’clock at noon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. By what of firm land on this side appears.] The mountain of Purgatory. +</p> + +<p> +v.123. The vaulted tomb.] “La tomba.” This word is used to express +the whole depth of the infernal region. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.0"></a>PURGATORY</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.I"></a>CANTO I</h2> + +<p> +O’er better waves to speed her rapid course<br/> +The light bark of my genius lifts the sail,<br/> +Well pleas’d to leave so cruel sea behind;<br/> +And of that second region will I sing,<br/> +In which the human spirit from sinful blot<br/> +Is purg’d, and for ascent to Heaven prepares. +</p> + +<p> +Here, O ye hallow’d Nine! for in your train<br/> +I follow, here the deadened strain revive;<br/> +Nor let Calliope refuse to sound<br/> +A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone,<br/> +Which when the wretched birds of chattering note<br/> +Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope. +</p> + +<p> +Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread<br/> +O’er the serene aspect of the pure air,<br/> +High up as the first circle, to mine eyes<br/> +Unwonted joy renew’d, soon as I ’scap’d<br/> +Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom,<br/> +That had mine eyes and bosom fill’d with grief.<br/> +The radiant planet, that to love invites,<br/> +Made all the orient laugh, and veil’d beneath<br/> +The Pisces’ light, that in his escort came. +</p> + +<p> +To the right hand I turn’d, and fix’d my mind<br/> +On the’ other pole attentive, where I saw<br/> +Four stars ne’er seen before save by the ken<br/> +Of our first parents. Heaven of their rays<br/> +Seem’d joyous. O thou northern site, bereft<br/> +Indeed, and widow’d, since of these depriv’d! +</p> + +<p> +As from this view I had desisted, straight<br/> +Turning a little tow’rds the other pole,<br/> +There from whence now the wain had disappear’d,<br/> +I saw an old man standing by my side<br/> +Alone, so worthy of rev’rence in his look,<br/> +That ne’er from son to father more was ow’d.<br/> +Low down his beard and mix’d with hoary white<br/> +Descended, like his locks, which parting fell<br/> +Upon his breast in double fold. The beams<br/> +Of those four luminaries on his face<br/> +So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear<br/> +Deck’d it, that I beheld him as the sun. +</p> + +<p> +“Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream,<br/> +Forth from th’ eternal prison-house have fled?”<br/> +He spoke and moved those venerable plumes.<br/> +“Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure<br/> +Lights you emerging from the depth of night,<br/> +That makes the infernal valley ever black?<br/> +Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss<br/> +Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain’d,<br/> +That thus, condemn’d, ye to my caves approach?” +</p> + +<p> +My guide, then laying hold on me, by words<br/> +And intimations given with hand and head,<br/> +Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay<br/> +Due reverence; then thus to him replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven<br/> +Descending, had besought me in my charge<br/> +To bring. But since thy will implies, that more<br/> +Our true condition I unfold at large,<br/> +Mine is not to deny thee thy request.<br/> +This mortal ne’er hath seen the farthest gloom.<br/> +But erring by his folly had approach’d<br/> +So near, that little space was left to turn.<br/> +Then, as before I told, I was dispatch’d<br/> +To work his rescue, and no way remain’d<br/> +Save this which I have ta’en. I have display’d<br/> +Before him all the regions of the bad;<br/> +And purpose now those spirits to display,<br/> +That under thy command are purg’d from sin.<br/> +How I have brought him would be long to say.<br/> +From high descends the virtue, by whose aid<br/> +I to thy sight and hearing him have led.<br/> +Now may our coming please thee. In the search<br/> +Of liberty he journeys: that how dear<br/> +They know, who for her sake have life refus’d.<br/> +Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet<br/> +In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds,<br/> +That in the last great day will shine so bright.<br/> +For us the’ eternal edicts are unmov’d:<br/> +He breathes, and I am free of Minos’ power,<br/> +Abiding in that circle where the eyes<br/> +Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look<br/> +Prays thee, O hallow’d spirit! to own her shine.<br/> +Then by her love we’ implore thee, let us pass<br/> +Through thy sev’n regions; for which best thanks<br/> +I for thy favour will to her return,<br/> +If mention there below thou not disdain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,”<br/> +He then to him rejoin’d, “while I was there,<br/> +That all she ask’d me I was fain to grant.<br/> +Now that beyond the’ accursed stream she dwells,<br/> +She may no longer move me, by that law,<br/> +Which was ordain’d me, when I issued thence.<br/> +Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst,<br/> +Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs.<br/> +Enough for me that in her name thou ask.<br/> +Go therefore now: and with a slender reed<br/> +See that thou duly gird him, and his face<br/> +Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence.<br/> +For not with eye, by any cloud obscur’d,<br/> +Would it be seemly before him to come,<br/> +Who stands the foremost minister in heaven.<br/> +This islet all around, there far beneath,<br/> +Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed<br/> +Produces store of reeds. No other plant,<br/> +Cover’d with leaves, or harden’d in its stalk,<br/> +There lives, not bending to the water’s sway.<br/> +After, this way return not; but the sun<br/> +Will show you, that now rises, where to take<br/> +The mountain in its easiest ascent.” +</p> + +<p> +He disappear’d; and I myself uprais’d<br/> +Speechless, and to my guide retiring close,<br/> +Toward him turn’d mine eyes. He thus began;<br/> +“My son! observant thou my steps pursue.<br/> +We must retreat to rearward, for that way<br/> +The champain to its low extreme declines.” +</p> + +<p> +The dawn had chas’d the matin hour of prime,<br/> +Which deaf before it, so that from afar<br/> +I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream. +</p> + +<p> +We travers’d the deserted plain, as one<br/> +Who, wander’d from his track, thinks every step<br/> +Trodden in vain till he regain the path. +</p> + +<p> +When we had come, where yet the tender dew<br/> +Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh<br/> +The wind breath’d o’er it, while it slowly dried;<br/> +Both hands extended on the watery grass<br/> +My master plac’d, in graceful act and kind.<br/> +Whence I of his intent before appriz’d,<br/> +Stretch’d out to him my cheeks suffus’d with tears.<br/> +There to my visage he anew restor’d<br/> +That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal’d. +</p> + +<p> +Then on the solitary shore arriv’d,<br/> +That never sailing on its waters saw<br/> +Man, that could after measure back his course,<br/> +He girt me in such manner as had pleas’d<br/> +Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell!<br/> +As he selected every humble plant,<br/> +Wherever one was pluck’d, another there<br/> +Resembling, straightway in its place arose. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.II"></a>CANTO II</h2> + +<p> +Now had the sun to that horizon reach’d,<br/> +That covers, with the most exalted point<br/> +Of its meridian circle, Salem’s walls,<br/> +And night, that opposite to him her orb<br/> +Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth,<br/> +Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp’d<br/> +When she reigns highest: so that where I was,<br/> +Aurora’s white and vermeil-tinctur’d cheek<br/> +To orange turn’d as she in age increas’d. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile we linger’d by the water’s brink,<br/> +Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought<br/> +Journey, while motionless the body rests.<br/> +When lo! as near upon the hour of dawn,<br/> +Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam<br/> +Glares down in west, over the ocean floor;<br/> +So seem’d, what once again I hope to view,<br/> +A light so swiftly coming through the sea,<br/> +No winged course might equal its career.<br/> +From which when for a space I had withdrawn<br/> +Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide,<br/> +Again I look’d and saw it grown in size<br/> +And brightness: thou on either side appear’d<br/> +Something, but what I knew not of bright hue,<br/> +And by degrees from underneath it came<br/> +Another. My preceptor silent yet<br/> +Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern’d,<br/> +Open’d the form of wings: then when he knew<br/> +The pilot, cried aloud, “Down, down; bend low<br/> +Thy knees; behold God’s angel: fold thy hands:<br/> +Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed.<br/> +Lo how all human means he sets at naught!<br/> +So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail<br/> +Except his wings, between such distant shores.<br/> +Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear’d,<br/> +Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes,<br/> +That not like mortal hairs fall off or change!” +</p> + +<p> +As more and more toward us came, more bright<br/> +Appear’d the bird of God, nor could the eye<br/> +Endure his splendor near: I mine bent down.<br/> +He drove ashore in a small bark so swift<br/> +And light, that in its course no wave it drank.<br/> +The heav’nly steersman at the prow was seen,<br/> +Visibly written blessed in his looks.<br/> +Within a hundred spirits and more there sat.<br/> +“In Exitu Israel de Aegypto;”<br/> +All with one voice together sang, with what<br/> +In the remainder of that hymn is writ.<br/> +Then soon as with the sign of holy cross<br/> +He bless’d them, they at once leap’d out on land,<br/> +The swiftly as he came return’d. The crew,<br/> +There left, appear’d astounded with the place,<br/> +Gazing around as one who sees new sights. +</p> + +<p> +From every side the sun darted his beams,<br/> +And with his arrowy radiance from mid heav’n<br/> +Had chas’d the Capricorn, when that strange tribe<br/> +Lifting their eyes towards us: If ye know,<br/> +Declare what path will Lead us to the mount.” +</p> + +<p> +Them Virgil answer’d. “Ye suppose perchance<br/> +Us well acquainted with this place: but here,<br/> +We, as yourselves, are strangers. Not long erst<br/> +We came, before you but a little space,<br/> +By other road so rough and hard, that now<br/> +The’ ascent will seem to us as play.” The spirits,<br/> +Who from my breathing had perceiv’d I liv’d,<br/> +Grew pale with wonder. As the multitude<br/> +Flock round a herald, sent with olive branch,<br/> +To hear what news he brings, and in their haste<br/> +Tread one another down, e’en so at sight<br/> +Of me those happy spirits were fix’d, each one<br/> +Forgetful of its errand, to depart,<br/> +Where cleans’d from sin, it might be made all fair. +</p> + +<p> +Then one I saw darting before the rest<br/> +With such fond ardour to embrace me, I<br/> +To do the like was mov’d. O shadows vain<br/> +Except in outward semblance! thrice my hands<br/> +I clasp’d behind it, they as oft return’d<br/> +Empty into my breast again. Surprise<br/> +I needs must think was painted in my looks,<br/> +For that the shadow smil’d and backward drew.<br/> +To follow it I hasten’d, but with voice<br/> +Of sweetness it enjoin’d me to desist.<br/> +Then who it was I knew, and pray’d of it,<br/> +To talk with me, it would a little pause.<br/> +It answered: “Thee as in my mortal frame<br/> +I lov’d, so loos’d forth it I love thee still,<br/> +And therefore pause; but why walkest thou here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not without purpose once more to return,<br/> +Thou find’st me, my Casella, where I am<br/> +Journeying this way;” I said, “but how of thee<br/> +Hath so much time been lost?” He answer’d straight:<br/> +“No outrage hath been done to me, if he<br/> +Who when and whom he chooses takes, me oft<br/> +This passage hath denied, since of just will<br/> +His will he makes. These three months past indeed,<br/> +He, whose chose to enter, with free leave<br/> +Hath taken; whence I wand’ring by the shore<br/> +Where Tyber’s wave grows salt, of him gain’d kind<br/> +Admittance, at that river’s mouth, tow’rd which<br/> +His wings are pointed, for there always throng<br/> +All such as not to Archeron descend.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “If new laws have not quite destroy’d<br/> +Memory and use of that sweet song of love,<br/> +That while all my cares had power to ’swage;<br/> +Please thee with it a little to console<br/> +My spirit, that incumber’d with its frame,<br/> +Travelling so far, of pain is overcome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Love that discourses in my thoughts.” He then<br/> +Began in such soft accents, that within<br/> +The sweetness thrills me yet. My gentle guide<br/> +And all who came with him, so well were pleas’d,<br/> +That seem’d naught else might in their thoughts have room. +</p> + +<p> +Fast fix’d in mute attention to his notes<br/> +We stood, when lo! that old man venerable<br/> +Exclaiming, “How is this, ye tardy spirits?<br/> +What negligence detains you loit’ring here?<br/> +Run to the mountain to cast off those scales,<br/> +That from your eyes the sight of God conceal.” +</p> + +<p> +As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food<br/> +Collected, blade or tares, without their pride<br/> +Accustom’d, and in still and quiet sort,<br/> +If aught alarm them, suddenly desert<br/> +Their meal, assail’d by more important care;<br/> +So I that new-come troop beheld, the song<br/> +Deserting, hasten to the mountain’s side,<br/> +As one who goes yet where he tends knows not. +</p> + +<p> +Nor with less hurried step did we depart. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.III"></a>CANTO III</h2> + +<p> +Them sudden flight had scatter’d over the plain,<br/> +Turn’d tow’rds the mountain, whither reason’s voice<br/> +Drives us; I to my faithful company<br/> +Adhering, left it not. For how of him<br/> +Depriv’d, might I have sped, or who beside<br/> +Would o’er the mountainous tract have led my steps<br/> +He with the bitter pang of self-remorse<br/> +Seem’d smitten. O clear conscience and upright<br/> +How doth a little fling wound thee sore! +</p> + +<p> +Soon as his feet desisted (slack’ning pace),<br/> +From haste, that mars all decency of act,<br/> +My mind, that in itself before was wrapt,<br/> +Its thoughts expanded, as with joy restor’d:<br/> +And full against the steep ascent I set<br/> +My face, where highest to heav’n its top o’erflows. +</p> + +<p> +The sun, that flar’d behind, with ruddy beam<br/> +Before my form was broken; for in me<br/> +His rays resistance met. I turn’d aside<br/> +With fear of being left, when I beheld<br/> +Only before myself the ground obscur’d.<br/> +When thus my solace, turning him around,<br/> +Bespake me kindly: “Why distrustest thou?<br/> +Believ’st not I am with thee, thy sure guide?<br/> +It now is evening there, where buried lies<br/> +The body, in which I cast a shade, remov’d<br/> +To Naples from Brundusium’s wall. Nor thou<br/> +Marvel, if before me no shadow fall,<br/> +More than that in the sky element<br/> +One ray obstructs not other. To endure<br/> +Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames<br/> +That virtue hath dispos’d, which how it works<br/> +Wills not to us should be reveal’d. Insane<br/> +Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,<br/> +Which holds three persons in one substance knit.<br/> +Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;<br/> +Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been<br/> +For Mary to bring forth. Moreover ye<br/> +Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly;<br/> +To whose desires repose would have been giv’n,<br/> +That now but serve them for eternal grief.<br/> +I speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite,<br/> +And others many more.” And then he bent<br/> +Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood<br/> +Broke off his speech. Meanwhile we had arriv’d<br/> +Far as the mountain’s foot, and there the rock<br/> +Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps<br/> +To climb it had been vain. The most remote<br/> +Most wild untrodden path, in all the tract<br/> +’Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this<br/> +A ladder easy’ and open of access. +</p> + +<p> +“Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?”<br/> +My master said and paus’d, “so that he may<br/> +Ascend, who journeys without aid of wine,?”<br/> +And while with looks directed to the ground<br/> +The meaning of the pathway he explor’d,<br/> +And I gaz’d upward round the stony height,<br/> +Of spirits, that toward us mov’d their steps,<br/> +Yet moving seem’d not, they so slow approach’d. +</p> + +<p> +I thus my guide address’d: “Upraise thine eyes,<br/> +Lo that way some, of whom thou may’st obtain<br/> +Counsel, if of thyself thou find’st it not!” +</p> + +<p> +Straightway he look’d, and with free speech replied:<br/> +“Let us tend thither: they but softly come.<br/> +And thou be firm in hope, my son belov’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Now was that people distant far in space<br/> +A thousand paces behind ours, as much<br/> +As at a throw the nervous arm could fling,<br/> +When all drew backward on the messy crags<br/> +Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmov’d<br/> +As one who walks in doubt might stand to look. +</p> + +<p> +“O spirits perfect! O already chosen!”<br/> +Virgil to them began, “by that blest peace,<br/> +Which, as I deem, is for you all prepar’d,<br/> +Instruct us where the mountain low declines,<br/> +So that attempt to mount it be not vain.<br/> +For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves.” +</p> + +<p> +As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one,<br/> +Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest<br/> +Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose<br/> +To ground, and what the foremost does, that do<br/> +The others, gath’ring round her, if she stops,<br/> +Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern;<br/> +So saw I moving to advance the first,<br/> +Who of that fortunate crew were at the head,<br/> +Of modest mien and graceful in their gait.<br/> +When they before me had beheld the light<br/> +From my right side fall broken on the ground,<br/> +So that the shadow reach’d the cave, they stopp’d<br/> +And somewhat back retir’d: the same did all,<br/> +Who follow’d, though unweeting of the cause +</p> + +<p> +“Unask’d of you, yet freely I confess,<br/> +This is a human body which ye see.<br/> +That the sun’s light is broken on the ground,<br/> +Marvel not: but believe, that not without<br/> +Virtue deriv’d from Heaven, we to climb<br/> +Over this wall aspire.” So them bespake<br/> +My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin’d;<br/> +“ Turn, and before you there the entrance lies,”<br/> +Making a signal to us with bent hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then of them one began. “Whoe’er thou art,<br/> +Who journey’st thus this way, thy visage turn,<br/> +Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen.” +</p> + +<p> +I tow’rds him turn’d, and with fix’d eye beheld.<br/> +Comely, and fair, and gentle of aspect,<br/> +He seem’d, but on one brow a gash was mark’d. +</p> + +<p> +When humbly I disclaim’d to have beheld<br/> +Him ever: “Now behold!” he said, and show’d<br/> +High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake. +</p> + +<p> +“I am Manfredi, grandson to the Queen<br/> +Costanza: whence I pray thee, when return’d,<br/> +To my fair daughter go, the parent glad<br/> +Of Aragonia and Sicilia’s pride;<br/> +And of the truth inform her, if of me<br/> +Aught else be told. When by two mortal blows<br/> +My frame was shatter’d, I betook myself<br/> +Weeping to him, who of free will forgives.<br/> +My sins were horrible; but so wide arms<br/> +Hath goodness infinite, that it receives<br/> +All who turn to it. Had this text divine<br/> +Been of Cosenza’s shepherd better scann’d,<br/> +Who then by Clement on my hunt was set,<br/> +Yet at the bridge’s head my bones had lain,<br/> +Near Benevento, by the heavy mole<br/> +Protected; but the rain now drenches them,<br/> +And the wind drives, out of the kingdom’s bounds,<br/> +Far as the stream of Verde, where, with lights<br/> +Extinguish’d, he remov’d them from their bed.<br/> +Yet by their curse we are not so destroy’d,<br/> +But that the eternal love may turn, while hope<br/> +Retains her verdant blossoms. True it is,<br/> +That such one as in contumacy dies<br/> +Against the holy church, though he repent,<br/> +Must wander thirty-fold for all the time<br/> +In his presumption past; if such decree<br/> +Be not by prayers of good men shorter made<br/> +Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss;<br/> +Revealing to my good Costanza, how<br/> +Thou hast beheld me, and beside the terms<br/> +Laid on me of that interdict; for here<br/> +By means of those below much profit comes.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.IV"></a>CANTO IV</h2> + +<p> +When by sensations of delight or pain,<br/> +That any of our faculties hath seiz’d,<br/> +Entire the soul collects herself, it seems<br/> +She is intent upon that power alone,<br/> +And thus the error is disprov’d which holds<br/> +The soul not singly lighted in the breast.<br/> +And therefore when as aught is heard or seen,<br/> +That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn’d,<br/> +Time passes, and a man perceives it not.<br/> +For that, whereby he hearken, is one power,<br/> +Another that, which the whole spirit hash;<br/> +This is as it were bound, while that is free. +</p> + +<p> +This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit<br/> +And wond’ring; for full fifty steps aloft<br/> +The sun had measur’d unobserv’d of me,<br/> +When we arriv’d where all with one accord<br/> +The spirits shouted, “Here is what ye ask.” +</p> + +<p> +A larger aperture ofttimes is stopp’d<br/> +With forked stake of thorn by villager,<br/> +When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path,<br/> +By which my guide, and I behind him close,<br/> +Ascended solitary, when that troop<br/> +Departing left us. On Sanleo’s road<br/> +Who journeys, or to Noli low descends,<br/> +Or mounts Bismantua’s height, must use his feet;<br/> +But here a man had need to fly, I mean<br/> +With the swift wing and plumes of high desire,<br/> +Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope,<br/> +And with light furnish’d to direct my way. +</p> + +<p> +We through the broken rock ascended, close<br/> +Pent on each side, while underneath the ground<br/> +Ask’d help of hands and feet. When we arriv’d<br/> +Near on the highest ridge of the steep bank,<br/> +Where the plain level open’d I exclaim’d,<br/> +“O master! say which way can we proceed?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d, “Let no step of thine recede.<br/> +Behind me gain the mountain, till to us<br/> +Some practis’d guide appear.” That eminence<br/> +Was lofty that no eye might reach its point,<br/> +And the side proudly rising, more than line<br/> +From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn.<br/> +I wearied thus began: “Parent belov’d!<br/> +Turn, and behold how I remain alone,<br/> +If thou stay not.”—” My son!” He straight +reply’d,<br/> +“Thus far put forth thy strength; “and to a track<br/> +Pointed, that, on this side projecting, round<br/> +Circles the hill. His words so spurr’d me on,<br/> +That I behind him clamb’ring, forc’d myself,<br/> +Till my feet press’d the circuit plain beneath.<br/> +There both together seated, turn’d we round<br/> +To eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft<br/> +Many beside have with delight look’d back. +</p> + +<p> +First on the nether shores I turn’d my eyes,<br/> +Then rais’d them to the sun, and wond’ring mark’d<br/> +That from the left it smote us. Soon perceiv’d<br/> +That Poet sage how at the car of light<br/> +Amaz’d I stood, where ’twixt us and the north<br/> +Its course it enter’d. Whence he thus to me:<br/> +“Were Leda’s offspring now in company<br/> +Of that broad mirror, that high up and low<br/> +Imparts his light beneath, thou might’st behold<br/> +The ruddy zodiac nearer to the bears<br/> +Wheel, if its ancient course it not forsook.<br/> +How that may be if thou would’st think; within<br/> +Pond’ring, imagine Sion with this mount<br/> +Plac’d on the earth, so that to both be one<br/> +Horizon, and two hemispheres apart,<br/> +Where lies the path that Phaeton ill knew<br/> +To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see<br/> +How of necessity by this on one<br/> +He passes, while by that on the’ other side,<br/> +If with clear view shine intellect attend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of truth, kind teacher!” I exclaim’d, “so clear<br/> +Aught saw I never, as I now discern<br/> +Where seem’d my ken to fail, that the mid orb<br/> +Of the supernal motion (which in terms<br/> +Of art is called the Equator, and remains<br/> +Ever between the sun and winter) for the cause<br/> +Thou hast assign’d, from hence toward the north<br/> +Departs, when those who in the Hebrew land<br/> +Inhabit, see it tow’rds the warmer part.<br/> +But if it please thee, I would gladly know,<br/> +How far we have to journey: for the hill<br/> +Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “Such is this steep ascent,<br/> +That it is ever difficult at first,<br/> +But, more a man proceeds, less evil grows.<br/> +When pleasant it shall seem to thee, so much<br/> +That upward going shall be easy to thee.<br/> +As in a vessel to go down the tide,<br/> +Then of this path thou wilt have reach’d the end.<br/> +There hope to rest thee from thy toil. No more<br/> +I answer, and thus far for certain know.”<br/> +As he his words had spoken, near to us<br/> +A voice there sounded: “Yet ye first perchance<br/> +May to repose you by constraint be led.”<br/> +At sound thereof each turn’d, and on the left<br/> +A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I<br/> +Nor he before was ware. Thither we drew,<br/> +find there were some, who in the shady place<br/> +Behind the rock were standing, as a man<br/> +Thru’ idleness might stand. Among them one,<br/> +Who seem’d to me much wearied, sat him down,<br/> +And with his arms did fold his knees about,<br/> +Holding his face between them downward bent. +</p> + +<p> +“Sweet Sir!” I cry’d, “behold that man, who shows<br/> +Himself more idle, than if laziness<br/> +Were sister to him.” Straight he turn’d to us,<br/> +And, o’er the thigh lifting his face, observ’d,<br/> +Then in these accents spake: “Up then, proceed<br/> +Thou valiant one.” Straight who it was I knew;<br/> +Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath<br/> +Still somewhat urg’d me) hinder my approach.<br/> +And when I came to him, he scarce his head<br/> +Uplifted, saying “Well hast thou discern’d,<br/> +How from the left the sun his chariot leads.” +</p> + +<p> +His lazy acts and broken words my lips<br/> +To laughter somewhat mov’d; when I began:<br/> +“Belacqua, now for thee I grieve no more.<br/> +But tell, why thou art seated upright there?<br/> +Waitest thou escort to conduct thee hence?<br/> +Or blame I only shine accustom’d ways?”<br/> +Then he: “My brother, of what use to mount,<br/> +When to my suffering would not let me pass<br/> +The bird of God, who at the portal sits?<br/> +Behooves so long that heav’n first bear me round<br/> +Without its limits, as in life it bore,<br/> +Because I to the end repentant Sighs<br/> +Delay’d, if prayer do not aid me first,<br/> +That riseth up from heart which lives in grace.<br/> +What other kind avails, not heard in heaven?” +</p> + +<p> +Before me now the Poet up the mount<br/> +Ascending, cried: “Haste thee, for see the sun<br/> +Has touch’d the point meridian, and the night<br/> +Now covers with her foot Marocco’s shore.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.V"></a>CANTO V</h2> + +<p> +Now had I left those spirits, and pursued<br/> +The steps of my Conductor, when beheld<br/> +Pointing the finger at me one exclaim’d:<br/> +“See how it seems as if the light not shone<br/> +From the left hand of him beneath, and he,<br/> +As living, seems to be led on.” Mine eyes<br/> +I at that sound reverting, saw them gaze<br/> +Through wonder first at me, and then at me<br/> +And the light broken underneath, by turns.<br/> +“Why are thy thoughts thus riveted?” my guide<br/> +Exclaim’d, “that thou hast slack’d thy pace? or how<br/> +Imports it thee, what thing is whisper’d here?<br/> +Come after me, and to their babblings leave<br/> +The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set,<br/> +Shakes not its top for any blast that blows!<br/> +He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out,<br/> +Still of his aim is wide, in that the one<br/> +Sicklies and wastes to nought the other’s strength.” +</p> + +<p> +What other could I answer save “I come?”<br/> +I said it, somewhat with that colour ting’d<br/> +Which ofttimes pardon meriteth for man. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile traverse along the hill there came,<br/> +A little way before us, some who sang<br/> +The “Miserere” in responsive Strains.<br/> +When they perceiv’d that through my body I<br/> +Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song<br/> +Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they chang’d;<br/> +And two of them, in guise of messengers,<br/> +Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask’d:<br/> +Of your condition we would gladly learn.” +</p> + +<p> +To them my guide. “Ye may return, and bear<br/> +Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame<br/> +Is real flesh. If, as I deem, to view<br/> +His shade they paus’d, enough is answer’d them.<br/> +Him let them honour, they may prize him well.” +</p> + +<p> +Ne’er saw I fiery vapours with such speed<br/> +Cut through the serene air at fall of night,<br/> +Nor August’s clouds athwart the setting sun,<br/> +That upward these did not in shorter space<br/> +Return; and, there arriving, with the rest<br/> +Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop. +</p> + +<p> +“Many,” exclaim’d the bard, “are these, who throng<br/> +Around us: to petition thee they come.<br/> +Go therefore on, and listen as thou go’st.” +</p> + +<p> +“O spirit! who go’st on to blessedness<br/> +With the same limbs, that clad thee at thy birth.”<br/> +Shouting they came, “a little rest thy step.<br/> +Look if thou any one amongst our tribe<br/> +Hast e’er beheld, that tidings of him there<br/> +Thou mayst report. Ah, wherefore go’st thou on?<br/> +Ah wherefore tarriest thou not? We all<br/> +By violence died, and to our latest hour<br/> +Were sinners, but then warn’d by light from heav’n,<br/> +So that, repenting and forgiving, we<br/> +Did issue out of life at peace with God,<br/> +Who with desire to see him fills our heart.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “The visages of all I scan<br/> +Yet none of ye remember. But if aught,<br/> +That I can do, may please you, gentle spirits!<br/> +Speak; and I will perform it, by that peace,<br/> +Which on the steps of guide so excellent<br/> +Following from world to world intent I seek.” +</p> + +<p> +In answer he began: “None here distrusts<br/> +Thy kindness, though not promis’d with an oath;<br/> +So as the will fail not for want of power.<br/> +Whence I, who sole before the others speak,<br/> +Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land,<br/> +Which lies between Romagna and the realm<br/> +Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray<br/> +Those who inhabit Fano, that for me<br/> +Their adorations duly be put up,<br/> +By which I may purge off my grievous sins.<br/> +From thence I came. But the deep passages,<br/> +Whence issued out the blood wherein I dwelt,<br/> +Upon my bosom in Antenor’s land<br/> +Were made, where to be more secure I thought.<br/> +The author of the deed was Este’s prince,<br/> +Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath<br/> +Pursued me. Had I towards Mira fled,<br/> +When overta’en at Oriaco, still<br/> +Might I have breath’d. But to the marsh I sped,<br/> +And in the mire and rushes tangled there<br/> +Fell, and beheld my life-blood float the plain.” +</p> + +<p> +Then said another: “Ah! so may the wish,<br/> +That takes thee o’er the mountain, be fulfill’d,<br/> +As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine.<br/> +Of Montefeltro I; Buonconte I:<br/> +Giovanna nor none else have care for me,<br/> +Sorrowing with these I therefore go.” I thus:<br/> +“From Campaldino’s field what force or chance<br/> +Drew thee, that ne’er thy sepulture was known?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” answer’d he, “at Casentino’s foot<br/> +A stream there courseth, nam’d Archiano, sprung<br/> +In Apennine above the Hermit’s seat.<br/> +E’en where its name is cancel’d, there came I,<br/> +Pierc’d in the heart, fleeing away on foot,<br/> +And bloodying the plain. Here sight and speech<br/> +Fail’d me, and finishing with Mary’s name<br/> +I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain’d.<br/> +I will report the truth; which thou again0<br/> +Tell to the living. Me God’s angel took,<br/> +Whilst he of hell exclaim’d: “O thou from heav’n!<br/> +Say wherefore hast thou robb’d me? Thou of him<br/> +Th’ eternal portion bear’st with thee away<br/> +For one poor tear that he deprives me of.<br/> +But of the other, other rule I make.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects<br/> +That vapour dank, returning into water,<br/> +Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it.<br/> +That evil will, which in his intellect<br/> +Still follows evil, came, and rais’d the wind<br/> +And smoky mist, by virtue of the power<br/> +Given by his nature. Thence the valley, soon<br/> +As day was spent, he cover’d o’er with cloud<br/> +From Pratomagno to the mountain range,<br/> +And stretch’d the sky above, so that the air<br/> +Impregnate chang’d to water. Fell the rain,<br/> +And to the fosses came all that the land<br/> +Contain’d not; and, as mightiest streams are wont,<br/> +To the great river with such headlong sweep<br/> +Rush’d, that nought stay’d its course. My stiffen’d +frame<br/> +Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found,<br/> +And dash’d it into Arno, from my breast<br/> +Loos’ning the cross, that of myself I made<br/> +When overcome with pain. He hurl’d me on,<br/> +Along the banks and bottom of his course;<br/> +Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return’d,<br/> +And rested after thy long road,” so spake<br/> +Next the third spirit; “then remember me.<br/> +I once was Pia. Sienna gave me life,<br/> +Maremma took it from me. That he knows,<br/> +Who me with jewell’d ring had first espous’d.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.VI"></a>CANTO VI</h2> + +<p> +When from their game of dice men separate,<br/> +He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix’d,<br/> +Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws<br/> +He cast: but meanwhile all the company<br/> +Go with the other; one before him runs,<br/> +And one behind his mantle twitches, one<br/> +Fast by his side bids him remember him.<br/> +He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand<br/> +Is stretch’d, well knows he bids him stand aside;<br/> +And thus he from the press defends himself.<br/> +E’en such was I in that close-crowding throng;<br/> +And turning so my face around to all,<br/> +And promising, I ’scap’d from it with pains. +</p> + +<p> +Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell<br/> +By Ghino’s cruel arm; and him beside,<br/> +Who in his chase was swallow’d by the stream.<br/> +Here Frederic Novello, with his hand<br/> +Stretch’d forth, entreated; and of Pisa he,<br/> +Who put the good Marzuco to such proof<br/> +Of constancy. Count Orso I beheld;<br/> +And from its frame a soul dismiss’d for spite<br/> +And envy, as it said, but for no crime:<br/> +I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and here,<br/> +While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant<br/> +Let her beware; lest for so false a deed<br/> +She herd with worse than these. When I was freed<br/> +From all those spirits, who pray’d for others’ prayers<br/> +To hasten on their state of blessedness;<br/> +Straight I began: “O thou, my luminary!<br/> +It seems expressly in thy text denied,<br/> +That heaven’s supreme decree can never bend<br/> +To supplication; yet with this design<br/> +Do these entreat. Can then their hope be vain,<br/> +Or is thy saying not to me reveal’d?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “Both what I write is plain,<br/> +And these deceiv’d not in their hope, if well<br/> +Thy mind consider, that the sacred height<br/> +Of judgment doth not stoop, because love’s flame<br/> +In a short moment all fulfils, which he<br/> +Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy.<br/> +Besides, when I this point concluded thus,<br/> +By praying no defect could be supplied;<br/> +Because the pray’r had none access to God.<br/> +Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not<br/> +Contented unless she assure thee so,<br/> +Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light.<br/> +I know not if thou take me right; I mean<br/> +Beatrice. Her thou shalt behold above,<br/> +Upon this mountain’s crown, fair seat of joy.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “Sir! let us mend our speed; for now<br/> +I tire not as before; and lo! the hill<br/> +Stretches its shadow far.” He answer’d thus:<br/> +“Our progress with this day shall be as much<br/> +As we may now dispatch; but otherwise<br/> +Than thou supposest is the truth. For there<br/> +Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold<br/> +Him back returning, who behind the steep<br/> +Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam<br/> +Thou dost not break. But lo! a spirit there<br/> +Stands solitary, and toward us looks:<br/> +It will instruct us in the speediest way.” +</p> + +<p> +We soon approach’d it. O thou Lombard spirit!<br/> +How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood,<br/> +Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes!<br/> +It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass,<br/> +Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.<br/> +I3ut Virgil with entreaty mild advanc’d,<br/> +Requesting it to show the best ascent.<br/> +It answer to his question none return’d,<br/> +But of our country and our kind of life<br/> +Demanded. When my courteous guide began,<br/> +“Mantua,” the solitary shadow quick<br/> +Rose towards us from the place in which it stood,<br/> +And cry’d, “Mantuan! I am thy countryman<br/> +Sordello.” Each the other then embrac’d. +</p> + +<p> +Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief,<br/> +Vessel without a pilot in loud storm,<br/> +Lady no longer of fair provinces,<br/> +But brothel-house impure! this gentle spirit,<br/> +Ev’n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land<br/> +Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen<br/> +With such glad cheer; while now thy living ones<br/> +In thee abide not without war; and one<br/> +Malicious gnaws another, ay of those<br/> +Whom the same wall and the same moat contains,<br/> +Seek, wretched one! around thy sea-coasts wide;<br/> +Then homeward to thy bosom turn, and mark<br/> +If any part of the sweet peace enjoy.<br/> +What boots it, that thy reins Justinian’s hand<br/> +Befitted, if thy saddle be unpress’d?<br/> +Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame.<br/> +Ah people! thou obedient still shouldst live,<br/> +And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit,<br/> +If well thou marked’st that which God commands +</p> + +<p> +Look how that beast to felness hath relaps’d<br/> +From having lost correction of the spur,<br/> +Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand,<br/> +O German Albert! who abandon’st her,<br/> +That is grown savage and unmanageable,<br/> +When thou should’st clasp her flanks with forked heels.<br/> +Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood!<br/> +And be it strange and manifest to all!<br/> +Such as may strike thy successor with dread!<br/> +For that thy sire and thou have suffer’d thus,<br/> +Through greediness of yonder realms detain’d,<br/> +The garden of the empire to run waste.<br/> +Come see the Capulets and Montagues,<br/> +The Philippeschi and Monaldi! man<br/> +Who car’st for nought! those sunk in grief, and these<br/> +With dire suspicion rack’d. Come, cruel one!<br/> +Come and behold the’ oppression of the nobles,<br/> +And mark their injuries: and thou mayst see.<br/> +What safety Santafiore can supply.<br/> +Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee,<br/> +Desolate widow! day and night with moans:<br/> +“My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?”<br/> +Come and behold what love among thy people:<br/> +And if no pity touches thee for us,<br/> +Come and blush for thine own report. For me,<br/> +If it be lawful, O Almighty Power,<br/> +Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified!<br/> +Are thy just eyes turn’d elsewhere? or is this<br/> +A preparation in the wond’rous depth<br/> +Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,<br/> +Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?<br/> +So are the’ Italian cities all o’erthrong’d<br/> +With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made<br/> +Of every petty factious villager. +</p> + +<p> +My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmov’d<br/> +At this digression, which affects not thee:<br/> +Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed.<br/> +Many have justice in their heart, that long<br/> +Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow,<br/> +Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine<br/> +Have it on their lip’s edge. Many refuse<br/> +To bear the common burdens: readier thine<br/> +Answer uneall’d, and cry, “Behold I stoop!” +</p> + +<p> +Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now,<br/> +Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom-fraught!<br/> +Facts best witness if I speak the truth.<br/> +Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old<br/> +Enacted laws, for civil arts renown’d,<br/> +Made little progress in improving life<br/> +Tow’rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety,<br/> +That to the middle of November scarce<br/> +Reaches the thread thou in October weav’st.<br/> +How many times, within thy memory,<br/> +Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices<br/> +Have been by thee renew’d, and people chang’d! +</p> + +<p> +If thou remember’st well and can’st see clear,<br/> +Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch,<br/> +Who finds no rest upon her down, hut oft<br/> +Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.VII"></a>CANTO VII</h2> + +<p> +After their courteous greetings joyfully<br/> +Sev’n times exchang’d, Sordello backward drew<br/> +Exclaiming, “Who are ye?” “Before this mount<br/> +By spirits worthy of ascent to God<br/> +Was sought, my bones had by Octavius’ care<br/> +Been buried. I am Virgil, for no sin<br/> +Depriv’d of heav’n, except for lack of faith.” +</p> + +<p> +So answer’d him in few my gentle guide. +</p> + +<p> +As one, who aught before him suddenly<br/> +Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries<br/> +“It is yet is not,” wav’ring in belief;<br/> +Such he appear’d; then downward bent his eyes,<br/> +And drawing near with reverential step,<br/> +Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp<br/> +His lord. “Glory of Latium!” he exclaim’d,<br/> +“In whom our tongue its utmost power display’d!<br/> +Boast of my honor’d birth-place! what desert<br/> +Of mine, what favour rather undeserv’d,<br/> +Shows thee to me? If I to hear that voice<br/> +Am worthy, say if from below thou com’st<br/> +And from what cloister’s pale?”—“Through every orb<br/> +Of that sad region,” he reply’d, “thus far<br/> +Am I arriv’d, by heav’nly influence led<br/> +And with such aid I come. There is a place<br/> +There underneath, not made by torments sad,<br/> +But by dun shades alone; where mourning’s voice<br/> +Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs.<br/> +There I with little innocents abide,<br/> +Who by death’s fangs were bitten, ere exempt<br/> +From human taint. There I with those abide,<br/> +Who the three holy virtues put not on,<br/> +But understood the rest, and without blame<br/> +Follow’d them all. But if thou know’st and canst,<br/> +Direct us, how we soonest may arrive,<br/> +Where Purgatory its true beginning takes.” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d thus: “We have no certain place<br/> +Assign’d us: upwards I may go or round,<br/> +Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide.<br/> +But thou beholdest now how day declines:<br/> +And upwards to proceed by night, our power<br/> +Excels: therefore it may be well to choose<br/> +A place of pleasant sojourn. To the right<br/> +Some spirits sit apart retir’d. If thou<br/> +Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps:<br/> +And thou wilt know them, not without delight.” +</p> + +<p> +“How chances this?” was answer’d; “who so +wish’d<br/> +To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr’d<br/> +By other, or through his own weakness fail?” +</p> + +<p> +The good Sordello then, along the ground<br/> +Trailing his finger, spoke: “Only this line<br/> +Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun<br/> +Hath disappear’d; not that aught else impedes<br/> +Thy going upwards, save the shades of night.<br/> +These with the wont of power perplex the will.<br/> +With them thou haply mightst return beneath,<br/> +Or to and fro around the mountain’s side<br/> +Wander, while day is in the horizon shut.” +</p> + +<p> +My master straight, as wond’ring at his speech,<br/> +Exclaim’d: “Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst,<br/> +That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight.” +</p> + +<p> +A little space we were remov’d from thence,<br/> +When I perceiv’d the mountain hollow’d out.<br/> +Ev’n as large valleys hollow’d out on earth, +</p> + +<p> +“That way,” the’ escorting spirit cried, “we go,<br/> +Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:<br/> +And thou await renewal of the day.” +</p> + +<p> +Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path<br/> +Led us traverse into the ridge’s side,<br/> +Where more than half the sloping edge expires.<br/> +Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin’d,<br/> +And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood<br/> +Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds<br/> +But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers<br/> +Plac’d in that fair recess, in color all<br/> +Had been surpass’d, as great surpasses less.<br/> +Nor nature only there lavish’d her hues,<br/> +But of the sweetness of a thousand smells<br/> +A rare and undistinguish’d fragrance made. +</p> + +<p> +“Salve Regina,” on the grass and flowers<br/> +Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit<br/> +Who not beyond the valley could be seen. +</p> + +<p> +“Before the west’ring sun sink to his bed,”<br/> +Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn’d, +</p> + +<p> +“’Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.<br/> +For from this eminence ye shall discern<br/> +Better the acts and visages of all,<br/> +Than in the nether vale among them mix’d.<br/> +He, who sits high above the rest, and seems<br/> +To have neglected that he should have done,<br/> +And to the others’ song moves not his lip,<br/> +The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal’d<br/> +The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,<br/> +So that by others she revives but slowly,<br/> +He, who with kindly visage comforts him,<br/> +Sway’d in that country, where the water springs,<br/> +That Moldaw’s river to the Elbe, and Elbe<br/> +Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:<br/> +Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth<br/> +Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,<br/> +Pamper’d with rank luxuriousness and ease.<br/> +And that one with the nose depress, who close<br/> +In counsel seems with him of gentle look,<br/> +Flying expir’d, with’ring the lily’s flower.<br/> +Look there how he doth knock against his breast!<br/> +The other ye behold, who for his cheek<br/> +Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.<br/> +They are the father and the father-in-law<br/> +Of Gallia’s bane: his vicious life they know<br/> +And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus. +</p> + +<p> +“He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps<br/> +In song, with him of feature prominent,<br/> +With ev’ry virtue bore his girdle brac’d.<br/> +And if that stripling who behinds him sits,<br/> +King after him had liv’d, his virtue then<br/> +From vessel to like vessel had been pour’d;<br/> +Which may not of the other heirs be said.<br/> +By James and Frederick his realms are held;<br/> +Neither the better heritage obtains.<br/> +Rarely into the branches of the tree<br/> +Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains<br/> +He who bestows it, that as his free gift<br/> +It may be call’d. To Charles my words apply<br/> +No less than to his brother in the song;<br/> +Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess.<br/> +So much that plant degenerates from its seed,<br/> +As more than Beatrice and Margaret<br/> +Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse. +</p> + +<p> +“Behold the king of simple life and plain,<br/> +Harry of England, sitting there alone:<br/> +He through his branches better issue spreads. +</p> + +<p> +“That one, who on the ground beneath the rest<br/> +Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,<br/> +Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause<br/> +The deed of Alexandria and his war<br/> +Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.VIII"></a>CANTO VIII</h2> + +<p> +Now was the hour that wakens fond desire<br/> +In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,<br/> +Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,<br/> +And pilgrim newly on his road with love<br/> +Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,<br/> +That seems to mourn for the expiring day:<br/> +When I, no longer taking heed to hear<br/> +Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark<br/> +One risen from its seat, which with its hand<br/> +Audience implor’d. Both palms it join’d and rais’d,<br/> +Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,<br/> +As telling God, “I care for naught beside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Te Lucis Ante,” so devoutly then<br/> +Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,<br/> +That all my sense in ravishment was lost.<br/> +And the rest after, softly and devout,<br/> +Follow’d through all the hymn, with upward gaze<br/> +Directed to the bright supernal wheels. +</p> + +<p> +Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen:<br/> +For of so subtle texture is this veil,<br/> +That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark’d. +</p> + +<p> +I saw that gentle band silently next<br/> +Look up, as if in expectation held,<br/> +Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high<br/> +I saw forth issuing descend beneath<br/> +Two angels with two flame-illumin’d swords,<br/> +Broken and mutilated at their points.<br/> +Green as the tender leaves but newly born,<br/> +Their vesture was, the which by wings as green<br/> +Beaten, they drew behind them, fann’d in air.<br/> +A little over us one took his stand,<br/> +The other lighted on the’ Opposing hill,<br/> +So that the troop were in the midst contain’d. +</p> + +<p> +Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;<br/> +But in their visages the dazzled eye<br/> +Was lost, as faculty that by too much<br/> +Is overpower’d. “From Mary’s bosom both<br/> +Are come,” exclaim’d Sordello, “as a guard<br/> +Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends,<br/> +The serpent.” Whence, not knowing by which path<br/> +He came, I turn’d me round, and closely press’d,<br/> +All frozen, to my leader’s trusted side. +</p> + +<p> +Sordello paus’d not: “To the valley now<br/> +(For it is time) let us descend; and hold<br/> +Converse with those great shadows: haply much<br/> +Their sight may please ye.” Only three steps down<br/> +Methinks I measur’d, ere I was beneath,<br/> +And noted one who look’d as with desire<br/> +To know me. Time was now that air arrow dim;<br/> +Yet not so dim, that ’twixt his eyes and mine<br/> +It clear’d not up what was conceal’d before.<br/> +Mutually tow’rds each other we advanc’d.<br/> +Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt,<br/> +When I perceiv’d thou wert not with the bad! +</p> + +<p> +No salutation kind on either part<br/> +Was left unsaid. He then inquir’d: “How long<br/> +Since thou arrived’st at the mountain’s foot,<br/> +Over the distant waves?”—“O!” answer’d I,<br/> +“Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came,<br/> +And still in my first life, thus journeying on,<br/> +The other strive to gain.” Soon as they heard<br/> +My words, he and Sordello backward drew,<br/> +As suddenly amaz’d. To Virgil one,<br/> +The other to a spirit turn’d, who near<br/> +Was seated, crying: “Conrad! up with speed:<br/> +Come, see what of his grace high God hath will’d.”<br/> +Then turning round to me: “By that rare mark<br/> +Of honour which thou ow’st to him, who hides<br/> +So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford,<br/> +When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves.<br/> +Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call<br/> +There, where reply to innocence is made.<br/> +Her mother, I believe, loves me no more;<br/> +Since she has chang’d the white and wimpled folds,<br/> +Which she is doom’d once more with grief to wish.<br/> +By her it easily may be perceiv’d,<br/> +How long in women lasts the flame of love,<br/> +If sight and touch do not relume it oft.<br/> +For her so fair a burial will not make<br/> +The viper which calls Milan to the field,<br/> +As had been made by shrill Gallura’s bird.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp<br/> +Of that right seal, which with due temperature<br/> +Glows in the bosom. My insatiate eyes<br/> +Meanwhile to heav’n had travel’d, even there<br/> +Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel<br/> +Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir’d:<br/> +“What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “The three torches, with which here<br/> +The pole is all on fire. “He then to me:<br/> +“The four resplendent stars, thou saw’st this morn<br/> +Are there beneath, and these ris’n in their stead.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spoke. Sordello to himself<br/> +Drew him, and cry’d: “Lo there our enemy!”<br/> +And with his hand pointed that way to look. +</p> + +<p> +Along the side, where barrier none arose<br/> +Around the little vale, a serpent lay,<br/> +Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food.<br/> +Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake<br/> +Came on, reverting oft his lifted head;<br/> +And, as a beast that smoothes its polish’d coat,<br/> +Licking his hack. I saw not, nor can tell,<br/> +How those celestial falcons from their seat<br/> +Mov’d, but in motion each one well descried,<br/> +Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.<br/> +The serpent fled; and to their stations back<br/> +The angels up return’d with equal flight. +</p> + +<p> +The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call’d,<br/> +Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken,<br/> +Through all that conflict, loosen’d not his sight. +</p> + +<p> +“So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high,<br/> +Find, in thy destin’d lot, of wax so much,<br/> +As may suffice thee to the enamel’s height.”<br/> +It thus began: “If any certain news<br/> +Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part<br/> +Thou know’st, tell me, who once was mighty there<br/> +They call’d me Conrad Malaspina, not<br/> +That old one, but from him I sprang. The love<br/> +I bore my people is now here refin’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“In your dominions,” I answer’d, “ne’er was +I.<br/> +But through all Europe where do those men dwell,<br/> +To whom their glory is not manifest?<br/> +The fame, that honours your illustrious house,<br/> +Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land;<br/> +So that he knows it who was never there.<br/> +I swear to you, so may my upward route<br/> +Prosper! your honour’d nation not impairs<br/> +The value of her coffer and her sword.<br/> +Nature and use give her such privilege,<br/> +That while the world is twisted from his course<br/> +By a bad head, she only walks aright,<br/> +And has the evil way in scorn.” He then:<br/> +“Now pass thee on: sev’n times the tired sun<br/> +Revisits not the couch, which with four feet<br/> +The forked Aries covers, ere that kind<br/> +Opinion shall be nail’d into thy brain<br/> +With stronger nails than other’s speech can drive,<br/> +If the sure course of judgment be not stay’d.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.IX"></a>CANTO IX</h2> + +<p> +Now the fair consort of Tithonus old,<br/> +Arisen from her mate’s beloved arms,<br/> +Look’d palely o’er the eastern cliff: her brow,<br/> +Lucent with jewels, glitter’d, set in sign<br/> +Of that chill animal, who with his train<br/> +Smites fearful nations: and where then we were,<br/> +Two steps of her ascent the night had past,<br/> +And now the third was closing up its wing,<br/> +When I, who had so much of Adam with me,<br/> +Sank down upon the grass, o’ercome with sleep,<br/> +There where all five were seated. In that hour,<br/> +When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay,<br/> +Rememb’ring haply ancient grief, renews,<br/> +And with our minds more wand’rers from the flesh,<br/> +And less by thought restrain’d are, as ’twere, full<br/> +Of holy divination in their dreams,<br/> +Then in a vision did I seem to view<br/> +A golden-feather’d eagle in the sky,<br/> +With open wings, and hov’ring for descent,<br/> +And I was in that place, methought, from whence<br/> +Young Ganymede, from his associates ’reft,<br/> +Was snatch’d aloft to the high consistory.<br/> +“Perhaps,” thought I within me, “here alone<br/> +He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains<br/> +To pounce upon the prey.” Therewith, it seem’d,<br/> +A little wheeling in his airy tour<br/> +Terrible as the lightning rush’d he down,<br/> +And snatch’d me upward even to the fire.<br/> +There both, I thought, the eagle and myself<br/> +Did burn; and so intense th’ imagin’d flames,<br/> +That needs my sleep was broken off. As erst<br/> +Achilles shook himself, and round him roll’d<br/> +His waken’d eyeballs wond’ring where he was,<br/> +Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled<br/> +To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms;<br/> +E’en thus I shook me, soon as from my face<br/> +The slumber parted, turning deadly pale,<br/> +Like one ice-struck with dread. Solo at my side<br/> +My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now<br/> +More than two hours aloft: and to the sea<br/> +My looks were turn’d. “Fear not,” my master cried,<br/> +“Assur’d we are at happy point. Thy strength<br/> +Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come<br/> +To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff<br/> +That circling bounds it! Lo! the entrance there,<br/> +Where it doth seem disparted! Ere the dawn<br/> +Usher’d the daylight, when thy wearied soul<br/> +Slept in thee, o’er the flowery vale beneath<br/> +A lady came, and thus bespake me: “I<br/> +Am Lucia. Suffer me to take this man,<br/> +Who slumbers. Easier so his way shall speed.”<br/> +Sordello and the other gentle shapes<br/> +Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone,<br/> +This summit reach’d: and I pursued her steps.<br/> +Here did she place thee. First her lovely eyes<br/> +That open entrance show’d me; then at once<br/> +She vanish’d with thy sleep.” Like one, whose doubts<br/> +Are chas’d by certainty, and terror turn’d<br/> +To comfort on discovery of the truth,<br/> +Such was the change in me: and as my guide<br/> +Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff<br/> +He mov’d, and I behind him, towards the height. +</p> + +<p> +Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise,<br/> +Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully<br/> +I prop the structure! Nearer now we drew,<br/> +Arriv’d’ whence in that part, where first a breach<br/> +As of a wall appear’d, I could descry<br/> +A portal, and three steps beneath, that led<br/> +For inlet there, of different colour each,<br/> +And one who watch’d, but spake not yet a word.<br/> +As more and more mine eye did stretch its view,<br/> +I mark’d him seated on the highest step,<br/> +In visage such, as past my power to bear.<br/> +Grasp’d in his hand a naked sword, glanc’d back<br/> +The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain<br/> +My sight directed. “Speak from whence ye stand:”<br/> +He cried: “What would ye? Where is your escort?<br/> +Take heed your coming upward harm ye not.” +</p> + +<p> +“A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,”<br/> +Replied the’ instructor, “told us, even now,<br/> +Pass that way: here the gate is.”—“And may she<br/> +Befriending prosper your ascent,” resum’d<br/> +The courteous keeper of the gate: “Come then<br/> +Before our steps.” We straightway thither came. +</p> + +<p> +The lowest stair was marble white so smooth<br/> +And polish’d, that therein my mirror’d form<br/> +Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark<br/> +Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block,<br/> +Crack’d lengthwise and across. The third, that lay<br/> +Massy above, seem’d porphyry, that flam’d<br/> +Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein.<br/> +On this God’s angel either foot sustain’d,<br/> +Upon the threshold seated, which appear’d<br/> +A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps<br/> +My leader cheerily drew me. “Ask,” said he, +</p> + +<p> +“With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt.” +</p> + +<p> +Piously at his holy feet devolv’d<br/> +I cast me, praying him for pity’s sake<br/> +That he would open to me: but first fell<br/> +Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times0<br/> +The letter, that denotes the inward stain,<br/> +He on my forehead with the blunted point<br/> +Of his drawn sword inscrib’d. And “Look,” he cried,<br/> +“When enter’d, that thou wash these scars away.” +</p> + +<p> +Ashes, or earth ta’en dry out of the ground,<br/> +Were of one colour with the robe he wore.<br/> +From underneath that vestment forth he drew<br/> +Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold,<br/> +Its fellow silver. With the pallid first,<br/> +And next the burnish’d, he so ply’d the gate,<br/> +As to content me well. “Whenever one<br/> +Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight<br/> +It turn not, to this alley then expect<br/> +Access in vain.” Such were the words he spake.<br/> +“One is more precious: but the other needs<br/> +Skill and sagacity, large share of each,<br/> +Ere its good task to disengage the knot<br/> +Be worthily perform’d. From Peter these<br/> +I hold, of him instructed, that I err<br/> +Rather in opening than in keeping fast;<br/> +So but the suppliant at my feet implore.” +</p> + +<p> +Then of that hallow’d gate he thrust the door,<br/> +Exclaiming, “Enter, but this warning hear:<br/> +He forth again departs who looks behind.” +</p> + +<p> +As in the hinges of that sacred ward<br/> +The swivels turn’d, sonorous metal strong,<br/> +Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily<br/> +Roar’d the Tarpeian, when by force bereft<br/> +Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss<br/> +To leanness doom’d. Attentively I turn’d,<br/> +List’ning the thunder, that first issued forth;<br/> +And “We praise thee, O God,” methought I heard<br/> +In accents blended with sweet melody.<br/> +The strains came o’er mine ear, e’en as the sound<br/> +Of choral voices, that in solemn chant<br/> +With organ mingle, and, now high and clear,<br/> +Come swelling, now float indistinct away. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.X"></a>CANTO X</h2> + +<p> +When we had passed the threshold of the gate<br/> +(Which the soul’s ill affection doth disuse,<br/> +Making the crooked seem the straighter path),<br/> +I heard its closing sound. Had mine eyes turn’d,<br/> +For that offence what plea might have avail’d? +</p> + +<p> +We mounted up the riven rock, that wound<br/> +On either side alternate, as the wave<br/> +Flies and advances. “Here some little art<br/> +Behooves us,” said my leader, “that our steps<br/> +Observe the varying flexure of the path.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus we so slowly sped, that with cleft orb<br/> +The moon once more o’erhangs her wat’ry couch,<br/> +Ere we that strait have threaded. But when free<br/> +We came and open, where the mount above<br/> +One solid mass retires, I spent, with toil,<br/> +And both, uncertain of the way, we stood,<br/> +Upon a plain more lonesome, than the roads<br/> +That traverse desert wilds. From whence the brink<br/> +Borders upon vacuity, to foot<br/> +Of the steep bank, that rises still, the space<br/> +Had measur’d thrice the stature of a man:<br/> +And, distant as mine eye could wing its flight,<br/> +To leftward now and now to right dispatch’d,<br/> +That cornice equal in extent appear’d. +</p> + +<p> +Not yet our feet had on that summit mov’d,<br/> +When I discover’d that the bank around,<br/> +Whose proud uprising all ascent denied,<br/> +Was marble white, and so exactly wrought<br/> +With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone<br/> +Had Polycletus, but e’en nature’s self<br/> +Been sham’d. The angel who came down to earth<br/> +With tidings of the peace so many years<br/> +Wept for in vain, that op’d the heavenly gates<br/> +From their long interdict) before us seem’d,<br/> +In a sweet act, so sculptur’d to the life,<br/> +He look’d no silent image. One had sworn<br/> +He had said, “Hail!” for she was imag’d there,<br/> +By whom the key did open to God’s love,<br/> +And in her act as sensibly impress<br/> +That word, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord,”<br/> +As figure seal’d on wax. “Fix not thy mind<br/> +On one place only,” said the guide belov’d,<br/> +Who had me near him on that part where lies<br/> +The heart of man. My sight forthwith I turn’d<br/> +And mark’d, behind the virgin mother’s form,<br/> +Upon that side, where he, that mov’d me, stood,<br/> +Another story graven on the rock. +</p> + +<p> +I passed athwart the bard, and drew me near,<br/> +That it might stand more aptly for my view.<br/> +There in the self-same marble were engrav’d<br/> +The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark,<br/> +That from unbidden office awes mankind.<br/> +Before it came much people; and the whole<br/> +Parted in seven quires. One sense cried, “Nay,”<br/> +Another, “Yes, they sing.” Like doubt arose<br/> +Betwixt the eye and smell, from the curl’d fume<br/> +Of incense breathing up the well-wrought toil.<br/> +Preceding the blest vessel, onward came<br/> +With light dance leaping, girt in humble guise,<br/> +Sweet Israel’s harper: in that hap he seem’d<br/> +Less and yet more than kingly. Opposite,<br/> +At a great palace, from the lattice forth<br/> +Look’d Michol, like a lady full of scorn<br/> +And sorrow. To behold the tablet next,<br/> +Which at the hack of Michol whitely shone,<br/> +I mov’d me. There was storied on the rock<br/> +The’ exalted glory of the Roman prince,<br/> +Whose mighty worth mov’d Gregory to earn<br/> +His mighty conquest, Trajan th’ Emperor.<br/> +A widow at his bridle stood, attir’d<br/> +In tears and mourning. Round about them troop’d<br/> +Full throng of knights, and overhead in gold<br/> +The eagles floated, struggling with the wind.<br/> +The wretch appear’d amid all these to say:<br/> +“Grant vengeance, sire! for, woe beshrew this heart<br/> +My son is murder’d.” He replying seem’d; +</p> + +<p> +“Wait now till I return.” And she, as one<br/> +Made hasty by her grief; “O sire, if thou<br/> +Dost not return?”—“Where I am, who then is,<br/> +May right thee.”—” What to thee is other’s good,<br/> +If thou neglect thy own?”—“Now comfort thee,”<br/> +At length he answers. “It beseemeth well<br/> +My duty be perform’d, ere I move hence:<br/> +So justice wills; and pity bids me stay.” +</p> + +<p> +He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produc’d<br/> +That visible speaking, new to us and strange<br/> +The like not found on earth. Fondly I gaz’d<br/> +Upon those patterns of meek humbleness,<br/> +Shapes yet more precious for their artist’s sake,<br/> +When “Lo,” the poet whisper’d, “where this way<br/> +(But slack their pace), a multitude advance.<br/> +These to the lofty steps shall guide us on.” +</p> + +<p> +Mine eyes, though bent on view of novel sights<br/> +Their lov’d allurement, were not slow to turn. +</p> + +<p> +Reader! I would not that amaz’d thou miss<br/> +Of thy good purpose, hearing how just God<br/> +Decrees our debts be cancel’d. Ponder not<br/> +The form of suff’ring. Think on what succeeds,<br/> +Think that at worst beyond the mighty doom<br/> +It cannot pass. “Instructor,” I began,<br/> +“What I see hither tending, bears no trace<br/> +Of human semblance, nor of aught beside<br/> +That my foil’d sight can guess.” He answering thus:<br/> +“So courb’d to earth, beneath their heavy teems<br/> +Of torment stoop they, that mine eye at first<br/> +Struggled as thine. But look intently thither,<br/> +An disentangle with thy lab’ring view,<br/> +What underneath those stones approacheth: now,<br/> +E’en now, mayst thou discern the pangs of each.” +</p> + +<p> +Christians and proud! O poor and wretched ones!<br/> +That feeble in the mind’s eye, lean your trust<br/> +Upon unstaid perverseness! Know ye not<br/> +That we are worms, yet made at last to form<br/> +The winged insect, imp’d with angel plumes<br/> +That to heaven’s justice unobstructed soars?<br/> +Why buoy ye up aloft your unfleg’d souls?<br/> +Abortive then and shapeless ye remain,<br/> +Like the untimely embryon of a worm! +</p> + +<p> +As, to support incumbent floor or roof,<br/> +For corbel is a figure sometimes seen,<br/> +That crumples up its knees unto its breast,<br/> +With the feign’d posture stirring ruth unfeign’d<br/> +In the beholder’s fancy; so I saw<br/> +These fashion’d, when I noted well their guise. +</p> + +<p> +Each, as his back was laden, came indeed<br/> +Or more or less contract; but it appear’d<br/> +As he, who show’d most patience in his look,<br/> +Wailing exclaim’d: “I can endure no more.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XI"></a>CANTO XI</h2> + +<p> +O thou Almighty Father, who dost make<br/> +The heavens thy dwelling, not in bounds confin’d,<br/> +But that with love intenser there thou view’st<br/> +Thy primal effluence, hallow’d be thy name:<br/> +Join each created being to extol<br/> +Thy might, for worthy humblest thanks and praise<br/> +Is thy blest Spirit. May thy kingdom’s peace<br/> +Come unto us; for we, unless it come,<br/> +With all our striving thither tend in vain.<br/> +As of their will the angels unto thee<br/> +Tender meet sacrifice, circling thy throne<br/> +With loud hosannas, so of theirs be done<br/> +By saintly men on earth. Grant us this day<br/> +Our daily manna, without which he roams<br/> +Through this rough desert retrograde, who most<br/> +Toils to advance his steps. As we to each<br/> +Pardon the evil done us, pardon thou<br/> +Benign, and of our merit take no count.<br/> +’Gainst the old adversary prove thou not<br/> +Our virtue easily subdu’d; but free<br/> +From his incitements and defeat his wiles.<br/> +This last petition, dearest Lord! is made<br/> +Not for ourselves, since that were needless now,<br/> +But for their sakes who after us remain.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus for themselves and us good speed imploring,<br/> +Those spirits went beneath a weight like that<br/> +We sometimes feel in dreams, all, sore beset,<br/> +But with unequal anguish, wearied all,<br/> +Round the first circuit, purging as they go,<br/> +The world’s gross darkness off: In our behalf<br/> +If there vows still be offer’d, what can here<br/> +For them be vow’d and done by such, whose wills<br/> +Have root of goodness in them? Well beseems<br/> +That we should help them wash away the stains<br/> +They carried hence, that so made pure and light,<br/> +They may spring upward to the starry spheres. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! so may mercy-temper’d justice rid<br/> +Your burdens speedily, that ye have power<br/> +To stretch your wing, which e’en to your desire<br/> +Shall lift you, as ye show us on which hand<br/> +Toward the ladder leads the shortest way.<br/> +And if there be more passages than one,<br/> +Instruct us of that easiest to ascend;<br/> +For this man who comes with me, and bears yet<br/> +The charge of fleshly raiment Adam left him,<br/> +Despite his better will but slowly mounts.”<br/> +From whom the answer came unto these words,<br/> +Which my guide spake, appear’d not; but ’twas said +</p> + +<p> +“Along the bank to rightward come with us,<br/> +And ye shall find a pass that mocks not toil<br/> +Of living man to climb: and were it not<br/> +That I am hinder’d by the rock, wherewith<br/> +This arrogant neck is tam’d, whence needs I stoop<br/> +My visage to the ground, him, who yet lives,<br/> +Whose name thou speak’st not him I fain would view.<br/> +To mark if e’er I knew him? and to crave<br/> +His pity for the fardel that I bear.<br/> +I was of Latiun, of a Tuscan horn<br/> +A mighty one: Aldobranlesco’s name<br/> +My sire’s, I know not if ye e’er have heard.<br/> +My old blood and forefathers’ gallant deeds<br/> +Made me so haughty, that I clean forgot<br/> +The common mother, and to such excess,<br/> +Wax’d in my scorn of all men, that I fell,<br/> +Fell therefore; by what fate Sienna’s sons,<br/> +Each child in Campagnatico, can tell.<br/> +I am Omberto; not me only pride<br/> +Hath injur’d, but my kindred all involv’d<br/> +In mischief with her. Here my lot ordains<br/> +Under this weight to groan, till I appease<br/> +God’s angry justice, since I did it not<br/> +Amongst the living, here amongst the dead.” +</p> + +<p> +List’ning I bent my visage down: and one<br/> +(Not he who spake) twisted beneath the weight<br/> +That urg’d him, saw me, knew me straight, and call’d,<br/> +Holding his eyes With difficulty fix’d<br/> +Intent upon me, stooping as I went<br/> +Companion of their way. “O!” I exclaim’d, +</p> + +<p> +“Art thou not Oderigi, art not thou<br/> +Agobbio’s glory, glory of that art<br/> +Which they of Paris call the limmer’s skill?” +</p> + +<p> +“Brother!” said he, “with tints that gayer smile,<br/> +Bolognian Franco’s pencil lines the leaves.<br/> +His all the honour now; mine borrow’d light.<br/> +In truth I had not been thus courteous to him,<br/> +The whilst I liv’d, through eagerness of zeal<br/> +For that pre-eminence my heart was bent on.<br/> +Here of such pride the forfeiture is paid.<br/> +Nor were I even here; if, able still<br/> +To sin, I had not turn’d me unto God.<br/> +O powers of man! how vain your glory, nipp’d<br/> +E’en in its height of verdure, if an age<br/> +Less bright succeed not! Cimabue thought<br/> +To lord it over painting’s field; and now<br/> +The cry is Giotto’s, and his name eclips’d.<br/> +Thus hath one Guido from the other snatch’d<br/> +The letter’d prize: and he perhaps is born,<br/> +Who shall drive either from their nest. The noise<br/> +Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind,<br/> +That blows from divers points, and shifts its name<br/> +Shifting the point it blows from. Shalt thou more<br/> +Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh<br/> +Part shrivel’d from thee, than if thou hadst died,<br/> +Before the coral and the pap were left,<br/> +Or ere some thousand years have passed? and that<br/> +Is, to eternity compar’d, a space,<br/> +Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye<br/> +To the heaven’s slowest orb. He there who treads<br/> +So leisurely before me, far and wide<br/> +Through Tuscany resounded once; and now<br/> +Is in Sienna scarce with whispers nam’d:<br/> +There was he sov’reign, when destruction caught<br/> +The madd’ning rage of Florence, in that day<br/> +Proud as she now is loathsome. Your renown<br/> +Is as the herb, whose hue doth come and go,<br/> +And his might withers it, by whom it sprang<br/> +Crude from the lap of earth.” I thus to him:<br/> +“True are thy sayings: to my heart they breathe<br/> +The kindly spirit of meekness, and allay<br/> +What tumours rankle there. But who is he<br/> +Of whom thou spak’st but now?”—“This,” he +replied,<br/> +“Is Provenzano. He is here, because<br/> +He reach’d, with grasp presumptuous, at the sway<br/> +Of all Sienna. Thus he still hath gone,<br/> +Thus goeth never-resting, since he died.<br/> +Such is th’ acquittance render’d back of him,<br/> +Who, beyond measure, dar’d on earth.” I then:<br/> +“If soul that to the verge of life delays<br/> +Repentance, linger in that lower space,<br/> +Nor hither mount, unless good prayers befriend,<br/> +How chanc’d admittance was vouchsaf’d to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“When at his glory’s topmost height,” said he,<br/> +“Respect of dignity all cast aside,<br/> +Freely He fix’d him on Sienna’s plain,<br/> +A suitor to redeem his suff’ring friend,<br/> +Who languish’d in the prison-house of Charles,<br/> +Nor for his sake refus’d through every vein<br/> +To tremble. More I will not say; and dark,<br/> +I know, my words are, but thy neighbours soon<br/> +Shall help thee to a comment on the text.<br/> +This is the work, that from these limits freed him.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XII"></a>CANTO XII</h2> + +<p> +With equal pace as oxen in the yoke,<br/> +I with that laden spirit journey’d on<br/> +Long as the mild instructor suffer’d me;<br/> +But when he bade me quit him, and proceed<br/> +(For “here,” said he, “behooves with sail and oars<br/> +Each man, as best he may, push on his bark”),<br/> +Upright, as one dispos’d for speed, I rais’d<br/> +My body, still in thought submissive bow’d. +</p> + +<p> +I now my leader’s track not loth pursued;<br/> +And each had shown how light we far’d along<br/> +When thus he warn’d me: “Bend thine eyesight down:<br/> +For thou to ease the way shall find it good<br/> +To ruminate the bed beneath thy feet.” +</p> + +<p> +As in memorial of the buried, drawn<br/> +Upon earth-level tombs, the sculptur’d form<br/> +Of what was once, appears (at sight whereof<br/> +Tears often stream forth by remembrance wak’d,<br/> +Whose sacred stings the piteous only feel),<br/> +So saw I there, but with more curious skill<br/> +Of portraiture o’erwrought, whate’er of space<br/> +From forth the mountain stretches. On one part<br/> +Him I beheld, above all creatures erst<br/> +Created noblest, light’ning fall from heaven:<br/> +On th’ other side with bolt celestial pierc’d<br/> +Briareus: cumb’ring earth he lay through dint<br/> +Of mortal ice-stroke. The Thymbraean god<br/> +With Mars, I saw, and Pallas, round their sire,<br/> +Arm’d still, and gazing on the giant’s limbs<br/> +Strewn o’er th’ ethereal field. Nimrod I saw:<br/> +At foot of the stupendous work he stood,<br/> +As if bewilder’d, looking on the crowd<br/> +Leagued in his proud attempt on Sennaar’s plain. +</p> + +<p> +O Niobe! in what a trance of woe<br/> +Thee I beheld, upon that highway drawn,<br/> +Sev’n sons on either side thee slain! O Saul!<br/> +How ghastly didst thou look! on thine own sword<br/> +Expiring in Gilboa, from that hour<br/> +Ne’er visited with rain from heav’n or dew! +</p> + +<p> +O fond Arachne! thee I also saw<br/> +Half spider now in anguish crawling up<br/> +Th’ unfinish’d web thou weaved’st to thy bane! +</p> + +<p> +O Rehoboam! here thy shape doth seem<br/> +Louring no more defiance! but fear-smote<br/> +With none to chase him in his chariot whirl’d. +</p> + +<p> +Was shown beside upon the solid floor<br/> +How dear Alcmaeon forc’d his mother rate<br/> +That ornament in evil hour receiv’d:<br/> +How in the temple on Sennacherib fell<br/> +His sons, and how a corpse they left him there.<br/> +Was shown the scath and cruel mangling made<br/> +By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried:<br/> +“Blood thou didst thirst for, take thy fill of blood!”<br/> +Was shown how routed in the battle fled<br/> +Th’ Assyrians, Holofernes slain, and e’en<br/> +The relics of the carnage. Troy I mark’d<br/> +In ashes and in caverns. Oh! how fall’n,<br/> +How abject, Ilion, was thy semblance there! +</p> + +<p> +What master of the pencil or the style<br/> +Had trac’d the shades and lines, that might have made<br/> +The subtlest workman wonder? Dead the dead,<br/> +The living seem’d alive; with clearer view<br/> +His eye beheld not who beheld the truth,<br/> +Than mine what I did tread on, while I went<br/> +Low bending. Now swell out; and with stiff necks<br/> +Pass on, ye sons of Eve! veil not your looks,<br/> +Lest they descry the evil of your path! +</p> + +<p> +I noted not (so busied was my thought)<br/> +How much we now had circled of the mount,<br/> +And of his course yet more the sun had spent,<br/> +When he, who with still wakeful caution went,<br/> +Admonish’d: “Raise thou up thy head: for know<br/> +Time is not now for slow suspense. Behold<br/> +That way an angel hasting towards us! Lo<br/> +Where duly the sixth handmaid doth return<br/> +From service on the day. Wear thou in look<br/> +And gesture seemly grace of reverent awe,<br/> +That gladly he may forward us aloft.<br/> +Consider that this day ne’er dawns again.” +</p> + +<p> +Time’s loss he had so often warn’d me ’gainst,<br/> +I could not miss the scope at which he aim’d. +</p> + +<p> +The goodly shape approach’d us, snowy white<br/> +In vesture, and with visage casting streams<br/> +Of tremulous lustre like the matin star.<br/> +His arms he open’d, then his wings; and spake:<br/> +“Onward: the steps, behold! are near; and now<br/> +Th’ ascent is without difficulty gain’d.” +</p> + +<p> +A scanty few are they, who when they hear<br/> +Such tidings, hasten. O ye race of men<br/> +Though born to soar, why suffer ye a wind<br/> +So slight to baffle ye? He led us on<br/> +Where the rock parted; here against my front<br/> +Did beat his wings, then promis’d I should fare<br/> +In safety on my way. As to ascend<br/> +That steep, upon whose brow the chapel stands<br/> +(O’er Rubaconte, looking lordly down<br/> +On the well-guided city,) up the right<br/> +Th’ impetuous rise is broken by the steps<br/> +Carv’d in that old and simple age, when still<br/> +The registry and label rested safe;<br/> +Thus is th’ acclivity reliev’d, which here<br/> +Precipitous from the other circuit falls:<br/> +But on each hand the tall cliff presses close. +</p> + +<p> +As ent’ring there we turn’d, voices, in strain<br/> +Ineffable, sang: “Blessed are the poor<br/> +In spirit.” Ah how far unlike to these<br/> +The straits of hell; here songs to usher us,<br/> +There shrieks of woe! We climb the holy stairs:<br/> +And lighter to myself by far I seem’d<br/> +Than on the plain before, whence thus I spake:<br/> +“Say, master, of what heavy thing have I<br/> +Been lighten’d, that scarce aught the sense of toil<br/> +Affects me journeying?” He in few replied:<br/> +“When sin’s broad characters, that yet remain<br/> +Upon thy temples, though well nigh effac’d,<br/> +Shall be, as one is, all clean razed out,<br/> +Then shall thy feet by heartiness of will<br/> +Be so o’ercome, they not alone shall feel<br/> +No sense of labour, but delight much more<br/> +Shall wait them urg’d along their upward way.” +</p> + +<p> +Then like to one, upon whose head is plac’d<br/> +Somewhat he deems not of but from the becks<br/> +Of others as they pass him by; his hand<br/> +Lends therefore help to’ assure him, searches, finds,<br/> +And well performs such office as the eye<br/> +Wants power to execute: so stretching forth<br/> +The fingers of my right hand, did I find<br/> +Six only of the letters, which his sword<br/> +Who bare the keys had trac’d upon my brow.<br/> +The leader, as he mark’d mine action, smil’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XIII"></a>CANTO XIII</h2> + +<p> +We reach’d the summit of the scale, and stood<br/> +Upon the second buttress of that mount<br/> +Which healeth him who climbs. A cornice there,<br/> +Like to the former, girdles round the hill;<br/> +Save that its arch with sweep less ample bends. +</p> + +<p> +Shadow nor image there is seen; all smooth<br/> +The rampart and the path, reflecting nought<br/> +But the rock’s sullen hue. “If here we wait<br/> +For some to question,” said the bard, “I fear<br/> +Our choice may haply meet too long delay.” +</p> + +<p> +Then fixedly upon the sun his eyes<br/> +He fastn’d, made his right the central point<br/> +From whence to move, and turn’d the left aside.<br/> +“O pleasant light, my confidence and hope,<br/> +Conduct us thou,” he cried, “on this new way,<br/> +Where now I venture, leading to the bourn<br/> +We seek. The universal world to thee<br/> +Owes warmth and lustre. If no other cause<br/> +Forbid, thy beams should ever be our guide.” +</p> + +<p> +Far, as is measur’d for a mile on earth,<br/> +In brief space had we journey’d; such prompt will<br/> +Impell’d; and towards us flying, now were heard<br/> +Spirits invisible, who courteously<br/> +Unto love’s table bade the welcome guest.<br/> +The voice, that first? flew by, call’d forth aloud,<br/> +“They have no wine; “ so on behind us past,<br/> +Those sounds reiterating, nor yet lost<br/> +In the faint distance, when another came<br/> +Crying, “I am Orestes,” and alike<br/> +Wing’d its fleet way. “Oh father!” I exclaim’d,<br/> +“What tongues are these?” and as I question’d, lo!<br/> +A third exclaiming, “Love ye those have wrong’d you.” +</p> + +<p> +“This circuit,” said my teacher, “knots the scourge<br/> +For envy, and the cords are therefore drawn<br/> +By charity’s correcting hand. The curb<br/> +Is of a harsher sound, as thou shalt hear<br/> +(If I deem rightly), ere thou reach the pass,<br/> +Where pardon sets them free. But fix thine eyes<br/> +Intently through the air, and thou shalt see<br/> +A multitude before thee seated, each<br/> +Along the shelving grot.” Then more than erst<br/> +I op’d my eyes, before me view’d, and saw<br/> +Shadows with garments dark as was the rock;<br/> +And when we pass’d a little forth, I heard<br/> +A crying, “Blessed Mary! pray for us,<br/> +Michael and Peter! all ye saintly host!” +</p> + +<p> +I do not think there walks on earth this day<br/> +Man so remorseless, that he hath not yearn’d<br/> +With pity at the sight that next I saw.<br/> +Mine eyes a load of sorrow teemed, when now<br/> +I stood so near them, that their semblances<br/> +Came clearly to my view. Of sackcloth vile<br/> +Their cov’ring seem’d; and on his shoulder one<br/> +Did stay another, leaning, and all lean’d<br/> +Against the cliff. E’en thus the blind and poor,<br/> +Near the confessionals, to crave an alms,<br/> +Stand, each his head upon his fellow’s sunk,<br/> +So most to stir compassion, not by sound<br/> +Of words alone, but that, which moves not less,<br/> +The sight of mis’ry. And as never beam<br/> +Of noonday visiteth the eyeless man,<br/> +E’en so was heav’n a niggard unto these<br/> +Of his fair light; for, through the orbs of all,<br/> +A thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up,<br/> +As for the taming of a haggard hawk. +</p> + +<p> +It were a wrong, methought, to pass and look<br/> +On others, yet myself the while unseen.<br/> +To my sage counsel therefore did I turn.<br/> +He knew the meaning of the mute appeal,<br/> +Nor waited for my questioning, but said:<br/> +“Speak; and be brief, be subtle in thy words.” +</p> + +<p> +On that part of the cornice, whence no rim<br/> +Engarlands its steep fall, did Virgil come;<br/> +On the’ other side me were the spirits, their cheeks<br/> +Bathing devout with penitential tears,<br/> +That through the dread impalement forc’d a way. +</p> + +<p> +I turn’d me to them, and “O shades!” said I, +</p> + +<p> +“Assur’d that to your eyes unveil’d shall shine<br/> +The lofty light, sole object of your wish,<br/> +So may heaven’s grace clear whatsoe’er of foam<br/> +Floats turbid on the conscience, that thenceforth<br/> +The stream of mind roll limpid from its source,<br/> +As ye declare (for so shall ye impart<br/> +A boon I dearly prize) if any soul<br/> +Of Latium dwell among ye; and perchance<br/> +That soul may profit, if I learn so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“My brother, we are each one citizens<br/> +Of one true city. Any thou wouldst say,<br/> +Who lived a stranger in Italia’s land.” +</p> + +<p> +So heard I answering, as appeal’d, a voice<br/> +That onward came some space from whence I stood. +</p> + +<p> +A spirit I noted, in whose look was mark’d<br/> +Expectance. Ask ye how? The chin was rais’d<br/> +As in one reft of sight. “Spirit,” said I,<br/> +“Who for thy rise are tutoring (if thou be<br/> +That which didst answer to me,) or by place<br/> +Or name, disclose thyself, that I may know thee.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was,” it answer’d, “of Sienna: here<br/> +I cleanse away with these the evil life,<br/> +Soliciting with tears that He, who is,<br/> +Vouchsafe him to us. Though Sapia nam’d<br/> +In sapience I excell’d not, gladder far<br/> +Of others’ hurt, than of the good befell me.<br/> +That thou mayst own I now deceive thee not,<br/> +Hear, if my folly were not as I speak it.<br/> +When now my years slop’d waning down the arch,<br/> +It so bechanc’d, my fellow citizens<br/> +Near Colle met their enemies in the field,<br/> +And I pray’d God to grant what He had will’d.<br/> +There were they vanquish’d, and betook themselves<br/> +Unto the bitter passages of flight.<br/> +I mark’d the hunt, and waxing out of bounds<br/> +In gladness, lifted up my shameless brow,<br/> +And like the merlin cheated by a gleam,<br/> +Cried, “It is over. Heav’n! I fear thee not.”<br/> +Upon my verge of life I wish’d for peace<br/> +With God; nor repentance had supplied<br/> +What I did lack of duty, were it not<br/> +The hermit Piero, touch’d with charity,<br/> +In his devout orisons thought on me.<br/> +But who art thou that question’st of our state,<br/> +Who go’st to my belief, with lids unclos’d,<br/> +And breathest in thy talk?”—“Mine eyes,” said I,<br/> +“May yet be here ta’en from me; but not long;<br/> +For they have not offended grievously<br/> +With envious glances. But the woe beneath<br/> +Urges my soul with more exceeding dread.<br/> +That nether load already weighs me down.” +</p> + +<p> +She thus: “Who then amongst us here aloft<br/> +Hath brought thee, if thou weenest to return?” +</p> + +<p> +“He,” answer’d I, “who standeth mute beside me.<br/> +I live: of me ask therefore, chosen spirit,<br/> +If thou desire I yonder yet should move<br/> +For thee my mortal feet.”—“Oh!” she replied,<br/> +“This is so strange a thing, it is great sign<br/> +That God doth love thee. Therefore with thy prayer<br/> +Sometime assist me: and by that I crave,<br/> +Which most thou covetest, that if thy feet<br/> +E’er tread on Tuscan soil, thou save my fame<br/> +Amongst my kindred. Them shalt thou behold<br/> +With that vain multitude, who set their hope<br/> +On Telamone’s haven, there to fail<br/> +Confounded, more shall when the fancied stream<br/> +They sought of Dian call’d: but they who lead<br/> +Their navies, more than ruin’d hopes shall mourn.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XIV"></a>CANTO XIV</h2> + +<p> +“Say who is he around our mountain winds,<br/> +Or ever death has prun’d his wing for flight,<br/> +That opes his eyes and covers them at will?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know not who he is, but know thus much<br/> +He comes not singly. Do thou ask of him,<br/> +For thou art nearer to him, and take heed<br/> +Accost him gently, so that he may speak.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus on the right two Spirits bending each<br/> +Toward the other, talk’d of me, then both<br/> +Addressing me, their faces backward lean’d,<br/> +And thus the one began: “O soul, who yet<br/> +Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky!<br/> +For charity, we pray thee’ comfort us,<br/> +Recounting whence thou com’st, and who thou art:<br/> +For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee<br/> +Marvel, as at a thing that ne’er hath been.” +</p> + +<p> +“There stretches through the midst of Tuscany,<br/> +I straight began: “a brooklet, whose well-head<br/> +Springs up in Falterona, with his race<br/> +Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles<br/> +Hath measur’d. From his banks bring, I this frame.<br/> +To tell you who I am were words misspent:<br/> +For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour’s lip.” +</p> + +<p> +“If well I do incorp’rate with my thought<br/> +The meaning of thy speech,” said he, who first<br/> +Addrest me, “thou dost speak of Arno’s wave.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the other: “Why hath he conceal’d<br/> +The title of that river, as a man<br/> +Doth of some horrible thing?” The spirit, who<br/> +Thereof was question’d, did acquit him thus:<br/> +“I know not: but ’tis fitting well the name<br/> +Should perish of that vale; for from the source<br/> +Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep<br/> +Maim’d of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass<br/> +Beyond that limit,) even to the point<br/> +Whereunto ocean is restor’d, what heaven<br/> +Drains from th’ exhaustless store for all earth’s streams,<br/> +Throughout the space is virtue worried down,<br/> +As ’twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe,<br/> +Or through disastrous influence on the place,<br/> +Or else distortion of misguided wills,<br/> +That custom goads to evil: whence in those,<br/> +The dwellers in that miserable vale,<br/> +Nature is so transform’d, it seems as they<br/> +Had shar’d of Circe’s feeding. ’Midst brute swine,<br/> +Worthier of acorns than of other food<br/> +Created for man’s use, he shapeth first<br/> +His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds<br/> +Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom<br/> +He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down,<br/> +By how much more the curst and luckless foss<br/> +Swells out to largeness, e’en so much it finds<br/> +Dogs turning into wolves. Descending still<br/> +Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets<br/> +A race of foxes, so replete with craft,<br/> +They do not fear that skill can master it.<br/> +Nor will I cease because my words are heard<br/> +By other ears than thine. It shall be well<br/> +For this man, if he keep in memory<br/> +What from no erring Spirit I reveal.<br/> +Lo! I behold thy grandson, that becomes<br/> +A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore<br/> +Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:<br/> +Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,<br/> +Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms.<br/> +Many of life he reaves, himself of worth<br/> +And goodly estimation. Smear’d with gore<br/> +Mark how he issues from the rueful wood,<br/> +Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years<br/> +It spreads not to prime lustihood again.” +</p> + +<p> +As one, who tidings hears of woe to come,<br/> +Changes his looks perturb’d, from whate’er part<br/> +The peril grasp him, so beheld I change<br/> +That spirit, who had turn’d to listen, struck<br/> +With sadness, soon as he had caught the word. +</p> + +<p> +His visage and the other’s speech did raise<br/> +Desire in me to know the names of both,<br/> +whereof with meek entreaty I inquir’d. +</p> + +<p> +The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum’d:<br/> +“Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do<br/> +For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.<br/> +But since God’s will is that so largely shine<br/> +His grace in thee, I will be liberal too.<br/> +Guido of Duca know then that I am.<br/> +Envy so parch’d my blood, that had I seen<br/> +A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark’d<br/> +A livid paleness overspread my cheek.<br/> +Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow’d.<br/> +O man, why place thy heart where there doth need<br/> +Exclusion of participants in good?<br/> +This is Rinieri’s spirit, this the boast<br/> +And honour of the house of Calboli,<br/> +Where of his worth no heritage remains.<br/> +Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript<br/> +(’twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,)<br/> +Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss;<br/> +But in those limits such a growth has sprung<br/> +Of rank and venom’d roots, as long would mock<br/> +Slow culture’s toil. Where is good Lizio? where<br/> +Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna?<br/> +O bastard slips of old Romagna’s line!<br/> +When in Bologna the low artisan,<br/> +And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts,<br/> +A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.<br/> +Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep,<br/> +When I recall to mind those once lov’d names,<br/> +Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him<br/> +That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop,<br/> +With Traversaro’s house and Anastagio s,<br/> +(Each race disherited) and beside these,<br/> +The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease,<br/> +That witch’d us into love and courtesy;<br/> +Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts.<br/> +O Brettinoro! wherefore tarriest still,<br/> +Since forth of thee thy family hath gone,<br/> +And many, hating evil, join’d their steps?<br/> +Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease,<br/> +Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill,<br/> +And Conio worse, who care to propagate<br/> +A race of Counties from such blood as theirs.<br/> +Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then<br/> +When from amongst you tries your demon child.<br/> +Not so, howe’er, that henceforth there remain<br/> +True proof of what ye were. O Hugolin!<br/> +Thou sprung of Fantolini’s line! thy name<br/> +Is safe, since none is look’d for after thee<br/> +To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock.<br/> +But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take<br/> +Far more delight in weeping than in words.<br/> +Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard<br/> +Our steps. Their silence therefore of our way<br/> +Assur’d us. Soon as we had quitted them,<br/> +Advancing onward, lo! a voice that seem’d<br/> +Like vollied light’ning, when it rives the air,<br/> +Met us, and shouted, “Whosoever finds<br/> +Will slay me,” then fled from us, as the bolt<br/> +Lanc’d sudden from a downward-rushing cloud.<br/> +When it had giv’n short truce unto our hearing,<br/> +Behold the other with a crash as loud<br/> +As the quick-following thunder: “Mark in me<br/> +Aglauros turn’d to rock.” I at the sound<br/> +Retreating drew more closely to my guide. +</p> + +<p> +Now in mute stillness rested all the air:<br/> +And thus he spake: “There was the galling bit.<br/> +But your old enemy so baits his hook,<br/> +He drags you eager to him. Hence nor curb<br/> +Avails you, nor reclaiming call. Heav’n calls<br/> +And round about you wheeling courts your gaze<br/> +With everlasting beauties. Yet your eye<br/> +Turns with fond doting still upon the earth.<br/> +Therefore He smites you who discerneth all.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XV"></a>CANTO XV</h2> + +<p> +As much as ’twixt the third hour’s close and dawn,<br/> +Appeareth of heav’n’s sphere, that ever whirls<br/> +As restless as an infant in his play,<br/> +So much appear’d remaining to the sun<br/> +Of his slope journey towards the western goal. +</p> + +<p> +Evening was there, and here the noon of night;<br/> +and full upon our forehead smote the beams.<br/> +For round the mountain, circling, so our path<br/> +Had led us, that toward the sun-set now<br/> +Direct we journey’d: when I felt a weight<br/> +Of more exceeding splendour, than before,<br/> +Press on my front. The cause unknown, amaze<br/> +Possess’d me, and both hands against my brow<br/> +Lifting, I interpos’d them, as a screen,<br/> +That of its gorgeous superflux of light<br/> +Clipp’d the diminish’d orb. As when the ray,<br/> +Striking On water or the surface clear<br/> +Of mirror, leaps unto the opposite part,<br/> +Ascending at a glance, e’en as it fell,<br/> +(And so much differs from the stone, that falls<br/> +Through equal space, as practice skill hath shown;<br/> +Thus with refracted light before me seemed<br/> +The ground there smitten; whence in sudden haste<br/> +My sight recoil’d. “What is this, sire belov’d!<br/> +’Gainst which I strive to shield the sight in vain?”<br/> +Cried I, “and which towards us moving seems?” +</p> + +<p> +“Marvel not, if the family of heav’n,”<br/> +He answer’d, “yet with dazzling radiance dim<br/> +Thy sense it is a messenger who comes,<br/> +Inviting man’s ascent. Such sights ere long,<br/> +Not grievous, shall impart to thee delight,<br/> +As thy perception is by nature wrought<br/> +Up to their pitch.” The blessed angel, soon<br/> +As we had reach’d him, hail’d us with glad voice:<br/> +“Here enter on a ladder far less steep<br/> +Than ye have yet encounter’d.” We forthwith<br/> +Ascending, heard behind us chanted sweet,<br/> +“Blessed the merciful,” and “happy thou!<br/> +That conquer’st.” Lonely each, my guide and I<br/> +Pursued our upward way; and as we went,<br/> +Some profit from his words I hop’d to win,<br/> +And thus of him inquiring, fram’d my speech: +</p> + +<p> +“What meant Romagna’s spirit, when he spake<br/> +Of bliss exclusive with no partner shar’d?” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “No wonder, since he knows,<br/> +What sorrow waits on his own worst defect,<br/> +If he chide others, that they less may mourn.<br/> +Because ye point your wishes at a mark,<br/> +Where, by communion of possessors, part<br/> +Is lessen’d, envy bloweth up the sighs of men.<br/> +No fear of that might touch ye, if the love<br/> +Of higher sphere exalted your desire.<br/> +For there, by how much more they call it ours,<br/> +So much propriety of each in good<br/> +Increases more, and heighten’d charity<br/> +Wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now lack I satisfaction more,” said I,<br/> +“Than if thou hadst been silent at the first,<br/> +And doubt more gathers on my lab’ring thought.<br/> +How can it chance, that good distributed,<br/> +The many, that possess it, makes more rich,<br/> +Than if ’twere shar’d by few?” He answering thus:<br/> +“Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth,<br/> +Strikes darkness from true light. The highest good<br/> +Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed<br/> +To love, as beam to lucid body darts,<br/> +Giving as much of ardour as it finds.<br/> +The sempiternal effluence streams abroad<br/> +Spreading, wherever charity extends.<br/> +So that the more aspirants to that bliss<br/> +Are multiplied, more good is there to love,<br/> +And more is lov’d; as mirrors, that reflect,<br/> +Each unto other, propagated light.<br/> +If these my words avail not to allay<br/> +Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see,<br/> +Who of this want, and of all else thou hast,<br/> +Shall rid thee to the full. Provide but thou<br/> +That from thy temples may be soon eras’d,<br/> +E’en as the two already, those five scars,<br/> +That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,” +</p> + +<p> +“Thou,” I had said, “content’st me,” when I +saw<br/> +The other round was gain’d, and wond’ring eyes<br/> +Did keep me mute. There suddenly I seem’d<br/> +By an ecstatic vision wrapt away;<br/> +And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd<br/> +Of many persons; and at th’ entrance stood<br/> +A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express<br/> +A mother’s love, who said, “Child! why hast thou<br/> +Dealt with us thus? Behold thy sire and I<br/> +Sorrowing have sought thee;” and so held her peace,<br/> +And straight the vision fled. A female next<br/> +Appear’d before me, down whose visage cours’d<br/> +Those waters, that grief forces out from one<br/> +By deep resentment stung, who seem’d to say:<br/> +“If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed<br/> +Over this city, nam’d with such debate<br/> +Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles,<br/> +Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace<br/> +Hath clasp’d our daughter; “and to fuel, meseem’d,<br/> +Benign and meek, with visage undisturb’d,<br/> +Her sovran spake: “How shall we those requite,<br/> +Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn<br/> +The man that loves us?” After that I saw<br/> +A multitude, in fury burning, slay<br/> +With stones a stripling youth, and shout amain<br/> +“Destroy, destroy: “and him I saw, who bow’d<br/> +Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made<br/> +His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to heav’n,<br/> +Praying forgiveness of th’ Almighty Sire,<br/> +Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes,<br/> +With looks, that With compassion to their aim. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight<br/> +Returning, sought again the things, whose truth<br/> +Depends not on her shaping, I observ’d<br/> +How she had rov’d to no unreal scenes +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the leader, who might see I mov’d,<br/> +As one, who struggles to shake off his sleep,<br/> +Exclaim’d: “What ails thee, that thou canst not hold<br/> +Thy footing firm, but more than half a league<br/> +Hast travel’d with clos’d eyes and tott’ring gait,<br/> +Like to a man by wine or sleep o’ercharg’d?” +</p> + +<p> +“Beloved father! so thou deign,” said I,<br/> +“To listen, I will tell thee what appear’d<br/> +Before me, when so fail’d my sinking steps.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Not if thy Countenance were mask’d<br/> +With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine<br/> +How small soe’er, elude me. What thou saw’st<br/> +Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart<br/> +To the waters of peace, that flow diffus’d<br/> +From their eternal fountain. I not ask’d,<br/> +What ails thee? for such cause as he doth, who<br/> +Looks only with that eye which sees no more,<br/> +When spiritless the body lies; but ask’d,<br/> +To give fresh vigour to thy foot. Such goads<br/> +The slow and loit’ring need; that they be found<br/> +Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns.” +</p> + +<p> +So on we journey’d through the evening sky<br/> +Gazing intent, far onward, as our eyes<br/> +With level view could stretch against the bright<br/> +Vespertine ray: and lo! by slow degrees<br/> +Gath’ring, a fog made tow’rds us, dark as night.<br/> +There was no room for ’scaping; and that mist<br/> +Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XVI"></a>CANTO XVI</h2> + +<p> +Hell’s dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark,<br/> +Of every planes ’reft, and pall’d in clouds,<br/> +Did never spread before the sight a veil<br/> +In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense<br/> +So palpable and gross. Ent’ring its shade,<br/> +Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids;<br/> +Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide,<br/> +Offering me his shoulder for a stay. +</p> + +<p> +As the blind man behind his leader walks,<br/> +Lest he should err, or stumble unawares<br/> +On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy,<br/> +I journey’d through that bitter air and foul,<br/> +Still list’ning to my escort’s warning voice,<br/> +“Look that from me thou part not.” Straight I heard<br/> +Voices, and each one seem’d to pray for peace,<br/> +And for compassion, to the Lamb of God<br/> +That taketh sins away. Their prelude still<br/> +Was “Agnus Dei,” and through all the choir,<br/> +One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem’d<br/> +The concord of their song. “Are these I hear<br/> +Spirits, O master?” I exclaim’d; and he:<br/> +“Thou aim’st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now who art thou, that through our smoke dost cleave?<br/> +And speak’st of us, as thou thyself e’en yet<br/> +Dividest time by calends?” So one voice<br/> +Bespake me; whence my master said: “Reply;<br/> +And ask, if upward hence the passage lead.” +</p> + +<p> +“O being! who dost make thee pure, to stand<br/> +Beautiful once more in thy Maker’s sight!<br/> +Along with me: and thou shalt hear and wonder.”<br/> +Thus I, whereto the spirit answering spake:<br/> +“Long as ’tis lawful for me, shall my steps<br/> +Follow on thine; and since the cloudy smoke<br/> +Forbids the seeing, hearing in its stead<br/> +Shall keep us join’d.” I then forthwith began<br/> +“Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend<br/> +To higher regions, and am hither come<br/> +Through the fearful agony of hell.<br/> +And, if so largely God hath doled his grace,<br/> +That, clean beside all modern precedent,<br/> +He wills me to behold his kingly state,<br/> +From me conceal not who thou wast, ere death<br/> +Had loos’d thee; but instruct me: and instruct<br/> +If rightly to the pass I tend; thy words<br/> +The way directing as a safe escort.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was of Lombardy, and Marco call’d:<br/> +Not inexperienc’d of the world, that worth<br/> +I still affected, from which all have turn’d<br/> +The nerveless bow aside. Thy course tends right<br/> +Unto the summit:” and, replying thus,<br/> +He added, “I beseech thee pray for me,<br/> +When thou shalt come aloft.” And I to him:<br/> +“Accept my faith for pledge I will perform<br/> +What thou requirest. Yet one doubt remains,<br/> +That wrings me sorely, if I solve it not,<br/> +Singly before it urg’d me, doubled now<br/> +By thine opinion, when I couple that<br/> +With one elsewhere declar’d, each strength’ning other.<br/> +The world indeed is even so forlorn<br/> +Of all good as thou speak’st it and so swarms<br/> +With every evil. Yet, beseech thee, point<br/> +The cause out to me, that myself may see,<br/> +And unto others show it: for in heaven<br/> +One places it, and one on earth below.” +</p> + +<p> +Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh,<br/> +“Brother!” he thus began, “the world is blind;<br/> +And thou in truth com’st from it. Ye, who live,<br/> +Do so each cause refer to heav’n above,<br/> +E’en as its motion of necessity<br/> +Drew with it all that moves. If this were so,<br/> +Free choice in you were none; nor justice would<br/> +There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill.<br/> +Your movements have their primal bent from heaven;<br/> +Not all; yet said I all; what then ensues?<br/> +Light have ye still to follow evil or good,<br/> +And of the will free power, which, if it stand<br/> +Firm and unwearied in Heav’n’s first assay,<br/> +Conquers at last, so it be cherish’d well,<br/> +Triumphant over all. To mightier force,<br/> +To better nature subject, ye abide<br/> +Free, not constrain’d by that, which forms in you<br/> +The reasoning mind uninfluenc’d of the stars.<br/> +If then the present race of mankind err,<br/> +Seek in yourselves the cause, and find it there.<br/> +Herein thou shalt confess me no false spy. +</p> + +<p> +“Forth from his plastic hand, who charm’d beholds<br/> +Her image ere she yet exist, the soul<br/> +Comes like a babe, that wantons sportively<br/> +Weeping and laughing in its wayward moods,<br/> +As artless and as ignorant of aught,<br/> +Save that her Maker being one who dwells<br/> +With gladness ever, willingly she turns<br/> +To whate’er yields her joy. Of some slight good<br/> +The flavour soon she tastes; and, snar’d by that,<br/> +With fondness she pursues it, if no guide<br/> +Recall, no rein direct her wand’ring course.<br/> +Hence it behov’d, the law should be a curb;<br/> +A sovereign hence behov’d, whose piercing view<br/> +Might mark at least the fortress and main tower<br/> +Of the true city. Laws indeed there are:<br/> +But who is he observes them? None; not he,<br/> +Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock,<br/> +Who chews the cud but doth not cleave the hoof.<br/> +Therefore the multitude, who see their guide<br/> +Strike at the very good they covet most,<br/> +Feed there and look no further. Thus the cause<br/> +Is not corrupted nature in yourselves,<br/> +But ill-conducting, that hath turn’d the world<br/> +To evil. Rome, that turn’d it unto good,<br/> +Was wont to boast two suns, whose several beams<br/> +Cast light on either way, the world’s and God’s.<br/> +One since hath quench’d the other; and the sword<br/> +Is grafted on the crook; and so conjoin’d<br/> +Each must perforce decline to worse, unaw’d<br/> +By fear of other. If thou doubt me, mark<br/> +The blade: each herb is judg’d of by its seed.<br/> +That land, through which Adice and the Po<br/> +Their waters roll, was once the residence<br/> +Of courtesy and velour, ere the day,<br/> +That frown’d on Frederick; now secure may pass<br/> +Those limits, whosoe’er hath left, for shame,<br/> +To talk with good men, or come near their haunts.<br/> +Three aged ones are still found there, in whom<br/> +The old time chides the new: these deem it long<br/> +Ere God restore them to a better world:<br/> +The good Gherardo, of Palazzo he<br/> +Conrad, and Guido of Castello, nam’d<br/> +In Gallic phrase more fitly the plain Lombard.<br/> +On this at last conclude. The church of Rome,<br/> +Mixing two governments that ill assort,<br/> +Hath miss’d her footing, fall’n into the mire,<br/> +And there herself and burden much defil’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Marco!” I replied, shine arguments<br/> +Convince me: and the cause I now discern<br/> +Why of the heritage no portion came<br/> +To Levi’s offspring. But resolve me this<br/> +Who that Gherardo is, that as thou sayst<br/> +Is left a sample of the perish’d race,<br/> +And for rebuke to this untoward age?” +</p> + +<p> +“Either thy words,” said he, “deceive; or else<br/> +Are meant to try me; that thou, speaking Tuscan,<br/> +Appear’st not to have heard of good Gherado;<br/> +The sole addition that, by which I know him;<br/> +Unless I borrow’d from his daughter Gaia<br/> +Another name to grace him. God be with you.<br/> +I bear you company no more. Behold<br/> +The dawn with white ray glimm’ring through the mist.<br/> +I must away—the angel comes—ere he<br/> +Appear.” He said, and would not hear me more. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +Call to remembrance, reader, if thou e’er<br/> +Hast, on a mountain top, been ta’en by cloud,<br/> +Through which thou saw’st no better, than the mole<br/> +Doth through opacous membrane; then, whene’er<br/> +The wat’ry vapours dense began to melt<br/> +Into thin air, how faintly the sun’s sphere<br/> +Seem’d wading through them; so thy nimble thought<br/> +May image, how at first I re-beheld<br/> +The sun, that bedward now his couch o’erhung. +</p> + +<p> +Thus with my leader’s feet still equaling pace<br/> +From forth that cloud I came, when now expir’d<br/> +The parting beams from off the nether shores. +</p> + +<p> +O quick and forgetive power! that sometimes dost<br/> +So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark<br/> +Though round about us thousand trumpets clang!<br/> +What moves thee, if the senses stir not? Light<br/> +Kindled in heav’n, spontaneous, self-inform’d,<br/> +Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse<br/> +By will divine. Portray’d before me came<br/> +The traces of her dire impiety,<br/> +Whose form was chang’d into the bird, that most<br/> +Delights itself in song: and here my mind<br/> +Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place<br/> +To aught that ask’d admittance from without. +</p> + +<p> +Next shower’d into my fantasy a shape<br/> +As of one crucified, whose visage spake<br/> +Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died;<br/> +And round him Ahasuerus the great king,<br/> +Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just,<br/> +Blameless in word and deed. As of itself<br/> +That unsubstantial coinage of the brain<br/> +Burst, like a bubble, Which the water fails<br/> +That fed it; in my vision straight uprose<br/> +A damsel weeping loud, and cried, “O queen!<br/> +O mother! wherefore has intemperate ire<br/> +Driv’n thee to loath thy being? Not to lose<br/> +Lavinia, desp’rate thou hast slain thyself.<br/> +Now hast thou lost me. I am she, whose tears<br/> +Mourn, ere I fall, a mother’s timeless end.” +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly<br/> +New radiance strike upon the closed lids,<br/> +The broken slumber quivering ere it dies;<br/> +Thus from before me sunk that imagery<br/> +Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck<br/> +The light, outshining far our earthly beam.<br/> +As round I turn’d me to survey what place<br/> +I had arriv’d at, “Here ye mount,” exclaim’d<br/> +A voice, that other purpose left me none,<br/> +Save will so eager to behold who spake,<br/> +I could not choose but gaze. As ’fore the sun,<br/> +That weighs our vision down, and veils his form<br/> +In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail’d<br/> +Unequal. “This is Spirit from above,<br/> +Who marshals us our upward way, unsought;<br/> +And in his own light shrouds him;. As a man<br/> +Doth for himself, so now is done for us.<br/> +For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need<br/> +Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepar’d<br/> +For blunt denial, ere the suit be made.<br/> +Refuse we not to lend a ready foot<br/> +At such inviting: haste we to ascend,<br/> +Before it darken: for we may not then,<br/> +Till morn again return.” So spake my guide;<br/> +And to one ladder both address’d our steps;<br/> +And the first stair approaching, I perceiv’d<br/> +Near me as ’twere the waving of a wing,<br/> +That fann’d my face and whisper’d: “Blessed they<br/> +The peacemakers: they know not evil wrath.” +</p> + +<p> +Now to such height above our heads were rais’d<br/> +The last beams, follow’d close by hooded night,<br/> +That many a star on all sides through the gloom<br/> +Shone out. “Why partest from me, O my strength?”<br/> +So with myself I commun’d; for I felt<br/> +My o’ertoil’d sinews slacken. We had reach’d<br/> +The summit, and were fix’d like to a bark<br/> +Arriv’d at land. And waiting a short space,<br/> +If aught should meet mine ear in that new round,<br/> +Then to my guide I turn’d, and said: “Lov’d sire!<br/> +Declare what guilt is on this circle purg’d.<br/> +If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “The love of good, whate’er<br/> +Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils.<br/> +Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter’d ill.<br/> +But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand,<br/> +Give ear unto my words, and thou shalt cull<br/> +Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay. +</p> + +<p> +“Creator, nor created being, ne’er,<br/> +My son,” he thus began, “was without love,<br/> +Or natural, or the free spirit’s growth.<br/> +Thou hast not that to learn. The natural still<br/> +Is without error; but the other swerves,<br/> +If on ill object bent, or through excess<br/> +Of vigour, or defect. While e’er it seeks<br/> +The primal blessings, or with measure due<br/> +Th’ inferior, no delight, that flows from it,<br/> +Partakes of ill. But let it warp to evil,<br/> +Or with more ardour than behooves, or less.<br/> +Pursue the good, the thing created then<br/> +Works ’gainst its Maker. Hence thou must infer<br/> +That love is germin of each virtue in ye,<br/> +And of each act no less, that merits pain.<br/> +Now since it may not be, but love intend<br/> +The welfare mainly of the thing it loves,<br/> +All from self-hatred are secure; and since<br/> +No being can be thought t’ exist apart<br/> +And independent of the first, a bar<br/> +Of equal force restrains from hating that. +</p> + +<p> +“Grant the distinction just; and it remains<br/> +The’ evil must be another’s, which is lov’d.<br/> +Three ways such love is gender’d in your clay.<br/> +There is who hopes (his neighbour’s worth deprest,)<br/> +Preeminence himself, and coverts hence<br/> +For his own greatness that another fall.<br/> +There is who so much fears the loss of power,<br/> +Fame, favour, glory (should his fellow mount<br/> +Above him), and so sickens at the thought,<br/> +He loves their opposite: and there is he,<br/> +Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame<br/> +That he doth thirst for vengeance, and such needs<br/> +Must doat on other’s evil. Here beneath<br/> +This threefold love is mourn’d. Of th’ other sort<br/> +Be now instructed, that which follows good<br/> +But with disorder’d and irregular course. +</p> + +<p> +“All indistinctly apprehend a bliss<br/> +On which the soul may rest, the hearts of all<br/> +Yearn after it, and to that wished bourn<br/> +All therefore strive to tend. If ye behold<br/> +Or seek it with a love remiss and lax,<br/> +This cornice after just repenting lays<br/> +Its penal torment on ye. Other good<br/> +There is, where man finds not his happiness:<br/> +It is not true fruition, not that blest<br/> +Essence, of every good the branch and root.<br/> +The love too lavishly bestow’d on this,<br/> +Along three circles over us, is mourn’d.<br/> +Account of that division tripartite<br/> +Expect not, fitter for thine own research. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XVIII"></a>CANTO XVIII</h2> + +<p> +The teacher ended, and his high discourse<br/> +Concluding, earnest in my looks inquir’d<br/> +If I appear’d content; and I, whom still<br/> +Unsated thirst to hear him urg’d, was mute,<br/> +Mute outwardly, yet inwardly I said:<br/> +“Perchance my too much questioning offends<br/> +But he, true father, mark’d the secret wish<br/> +By diffidence restrain’d, and speaking, gave<br/> +Me boldness thus to speak: “Master, my Sight<br/> +Gathers so lively virtue from thy beams,<br/> +That all, thy words convey, distinct is seen.<br/> +Wherefore I pray thee, father, whom this heart<br/> +Holds dearest! thou wouldst deign by proof t’ unfold<br/> +That love, from which as from their source thou bring’st<br/> +All good deeds and their opposite.” He then:<br/> +“To what I now disclose be thy clear ken<br/> +Directed, and thou plainly shalt behold<br/> +How much those blind have err’d, who make themselves<br/> +The guides of men. The soul, created apt<br/> +To love, moves versatile which way soe’er<br/> +Aught pleasing prompts her, soon as she is wak’d<br/> +By pleasure into act. Of substance true<br/> +Your apprehension forms its counterfeit,<br/> +And in you the ideal shape presenting<br/> +Attracts the soul’s regard. If she, thus drawn,<br/> +incline toward it, love is that inclining,<br/> +And a new nature knit by pleasure in ye.<br/> +Then as the fire points up, and mounting seeks<br/> +His birth-place and his lasting seat, e’en thus<br/> +Enters the captive soul into desire,<br/> +Which is a spiritual motion, that ne’er rests<br/> +Before enjoyment of the thing it loves.<br/> +Enough to show thee, how the truth from those<br/> +Is hidden, who aver all love a thing<br/> +Praise-worthy in itself: although perhaps<br/> +Its substance seem still good. Yet if the wax<br/> +Be good, it follows not th’ impression must.”<br/> +“What love is,” I return’d, “thy words, O guide!<br/> +And my own docile mind, reveal. Yet thence<br/> +New doubts have sprung. For from without if love<br/> +Be offer’d to us, and the spirit knows<br/> +No other footing, tend she right or wrong,<br/> +Is no desert of hers.” He answering thus:<br/> +“What reason here discovers I have power<br/> +To show thee: that which lies beyond, expect<br/> +From Beatrice, faith not reason’s task.<br/> +Spirit, substantial form, with matter join’d<br/> +Not in confusion mix’d, hath in itself<br/> +Specific virtue of that union born,<br/> +Which is not felt except it work, nor prov’d<br/> +But through effect, as vegetable life<br/> +By the green leaf. From whence his intellect<br/> +Deduced its primal notices of things,<br/> +Man therefore knows not, or his appetites<br/> +Their first affections; such in you, as zeal<br/> +In bees to gather honey; at the first,<br/> +Volition, meriting nor blame nor praise.<br/> +But o’er each lower faculty supreme,<br/> +That as she list are summon’d to her bar,<br/> +Ye have that virtue in you, whose just voice<br/> +Uttereth counsel, and whose word should keep<br/> +The threshold of assent. Here is the source,<br/> +Whence cause of merit in you is deriv’d,<br/> +E’en as the affections good or ill she takes,<br/> +Or severs, winnow’d as the chaff. Those men<br/> +Who reas’ning went to depth profoundest, mark’d<br/> +That innate freedom, and were thence induc’d<br/> +To leave their moral teaching to the world.<br/> +Grant then, that from necessity arise<br/> +All love that glows within you; to dismiss<br/> +Or harbour it, the pow’r is in yourselves.<br/> +Remember, Beatrice, in her style,<br/> +Denominates free choice by eminence<br/> +The noble virtue, if in talk with thee<br/> +She touch upon that theme.” The moon, well nigh<br/> +To midnight hour belated, made the stars<br/> +Appear to wink and fade; and her broad disk<br/> +Seem’d like a crag on fire, as up the vault<br/> +That course she journey’d, which the sun then warms,<br/> +When they of Rome behold him at his set.<br/> +Betwixt Sardinia and the Corsic isle.<br/> +And now the weight, that hung upon my thought,<br/> +Was lighten’d by the aid of that clear spirit,<br/> +Who raiseth Andes above Mantua’s name.<br/> +I therefore, when my questions had obtain’d<br/> +Solution plain and ample, stood as one<br/> +Musing in dreary slumber; but not long<br/> +Slumber’d; for suddenly a multitude,<br/> +The steep already turning, from behind,<br/> +Rush’d on. With fury and like random rout,<br/> +As echoing on their shores at midnight heard<br/> +Ismenus and Asopus, for his Thebes<br/> +If Bacchus’ help were needed; so came these<br/> +Tumultuous, curving each his rapid step,<br/> +By eagerness impell’d of holy love. +</p> + +<p> +Soon they o’ertook us; with such swiftness mov’d<br/> +The mighty crowd. Two spirits at their head<br/> +Cried weeping; “Blessed Mary sought with haste<br/> +The hilly region. Caesar to subdue<br/> +Ilerda, darted in Marseilles his sting,<br/> +And flew to Spain.”—“Oh tarry not: away;”<br/> +The others shouted; “let not time be lost<br/> +Through slackness of affection. Hearty zeal<br/> +To serve reanimates celestial grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“O ye, in whom intenser fervency<br/> +Haply supplies, where lukewarm erst ye fail’d,<br/> +Slow or neglectful, to absolve your part<br/> +Of good and virtuous, this man, who yet lives,<br/> +(Credit my tale, though strange) desires t’ ascend,<br/> +So morning rise to light us. Therefore say<br/> +Which hand leads nearest to the rifted rock?” +</p> + +<p> +So spake my guide, to whom a shade return’d:<br/> +“Come after us, and thou shalt find the cleft.<br/> +We may not linger: such resistless will<br/> +Speeds our unwearied course. Vouchsafe us then<br/> +Thy pardon, if our duty seem to thee<br/> +Discourteous rudeness. In Verona I<br/> +Was abbot of San Zeno, when the hand<br/> +Of Barbarossa grasp’d Imperial sway,<br/> +That name, ne’er utter’d without tears in Milan.<br/> +And there is he, hath one foot in his grave,<br/> +Who for that monastery ere long shall weep,<br/> +Ruing his power misus’d: for that his son,<br/> +Of body ill compact, and worse in mind,<br/> +And born in evil, he hath set in place<br/> +Of its true pastor.” Whether more he spake,<br/> +Or here was mute, I know not: he had sped<br/> +E’en now so far beyond us. Yet thus much<br/> +I heard, and in rememb’rance treasur’d it. +</p> + +<p> +He then, who never fail’d me at my need,<br/> +Cried, “Hither turn. Lo! two with sharp remorse<br/> +Chiding their sin!” In rear of all the troop<br/> +These shouted: “First they died, to whom the sea<br/> +Open’d, or ever Jordan saw his heirs:<br/> +And they, who with Aeneas to the end<br/> +Endur’d not suffering, for their portion chose<br/> +Life without glory.” Soon as they had fled<br/> +Past reach of sight, new thought within me rose<br/> +By others follow’d fast, and each unlike<br/> +Its fellow: till led on from thought to thought,<br/> +And pleasur’d with the fleeting train, mine eye<br/> +Was clos’d, and meditation chang’d to dream. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XIX"></a>CANTO XIX</h2> + +<p> +It was the hour, when of diurnal heat<br/> +No reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon,<br/> +O’erpower’d by earth, or planetary sway<br/> +Of Saturn; and the geomancer sees<br/> +His Greater Fortune up the east ascend,<br/> +Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone;<br/> +When ’fore me in my dream a woman’s shape<br/> +There came, with lips that stammer’d, eyes aslant,<br/> +Distorted feet, hands maim’d, and colour pale. +</p> + +<p> +I look’d upon her; and as sunshine cheers<br/> +Limbs numb’d by nightly cold, e’en thus my look<br/> +Unloos’d her tongue, next in brief space her form<br/> +Decrepit rais’d erect, and faded face<br/> +With love’s own hue illum’d. Recov’ring speech<br/> +She forthwith warbling such a strain began,<br/> +That I, how loth soe’er, could scarce have held<br/> +Attention from the song. “I,” thus she sang,<br/> +“I am the Siren, she, whom mariners<br/> +On the wide sea are wilder’d when they hear:<br/> +Such fulness of delight the list’ner feels.<br/> +I from his course Ulysses by my lay<br/> +Enchanted drew. Whoe’er frequents me once<br/> +Parts seldom; so I charm him, and his heart<br/> +Contented knows no void.” Or ere her mouth<br/> +Was clos’d, to shame her at her side appear’d<br/> +A dame of semblance holy. With stern voice<br/> +She utter’d; “Say, O Virgil, who is this?”<br/> +Which hearing, he approach’d, with eyes still bent<br/> +Toward that goodly presence: th’ other seiz’d her,<br/> +And, her robes tearing, open’d her before,<br/> +And show’d the belly to me, whence a smell,<br/> +Exhaling loathsome, wak’d me. Round I turn’d<br/> +Mine eyes, and thus the teacher: “At the least<br/> +Three times my voice hath call’d thee. Rise, begone.<br/> +Let us the opening find where thou mayst pass.” +</p> + +<p> +I straightway rose. Now day, pour’d down from high,<br/> +Fill’d all the circuits of the sacred mount;<br/> +And, as we journey’d, on our shoulder smote<br/> +The early ray. I follow’d, stooping low<br/> +My forehead, as a man, o’ercharg’d with thought,<br/> +Who bends him to the likeness of an arch,<br/> +That midway spans the flood; when thus I heard,<br/> +“Come, enter here,” in tone so soft and mild,<br/> +As never met the ear on mortal strand. +</p> + +<p> +With swan-like wings dispread and pointing up,<br/> +Who thus had spoken marshal’d us along,<br/> +Where each side of the solid masonry<br/> +The sloping, walls retir’d; then mov’d his plumes,<br/> +And fanning us, affirm’d that those, who mourn,<br/> +Are blessed, for that comfort shall be theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“What aileth thee, that still thou look’st to earth?”<br/> +Began my leader; while th’ angelic shape<br/> +A little over us his station took. +</p> + +<p> +“New vision,” I replied, “hath rais’d in me<br/> +8urmisings strange and anxious doubts, whereon<br/> +My soul intent allows no other thought<br/> +Or room or entrance.—“Hast thou seen,” said he,<br/> +“That old enchantress, her, whose wiles alone<br/> +The spirits o’er us weep for? Hast thou seen<br/> +How man may free him of her bonds? Enough.<br/> +Let thy heels spurn the earth, and thy rais’d ken<br/> +Fix on the lure, which heav’n’s eternal King<br/> +Whirls in the rolling spheres.” As on his feet<br/> +The falcon first looks down, then to the sky<br/> +Turns, and forth stretches eager for the food,<br/> +That woos him thither; so the call I heard,<br/> +So onward, far as the dividing rock<br/> +Gave way, I journey’d, till the plain was reach’d. +</p> + +<p> +On the fifth circle when I stood at large,<br/> +A race appear’d before me, on the ground<br/> +All downward lying prone and weeping sore.<br/> +“My soul hath cleaved to the dust,” I heard<br/> +With sighs so deep, they well nigh choak’d the words.<br/> +“O ye elect of God, whose penal woes<br/> +Both hope and justice mitigate, direct<br/> +Tow’rds the steep rising our uncertain way.” +</p> + +<p> +“If ye approach secure from this our doom,<br/> +Prostration—and would urge your course with speed,<br/> +See that ye still to rightward keep the brink.” +</p> + +<p> +So them the bard besought; and such the words,<br/> +Beyond us some short space, in answer came. +</p> + +<p> +I noted what remain’d yet hidden from them:<br/> +Thence to my liege’s eyes mine eyes I bent,<br/> +And he, forthwith interpreting their suit,<br/> +Beckon’d his glad assent. Free then to act,<br/> +As pleas’d me, I drew near, and took my stand<br/> +O`er that shade, whose words I late had mark’d.<br/> +And, “Spirit!” I said, “in whom repentant tears<br/> +Mature that blessed hour, when thou with God<br/> +Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend<br/> +For me that mightier care. Say who thou wast,<br/> +Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone,<br/> +And if in aught ye wish my service there,<br/> +Whence living I am come.” He answering spake<br/> +“The cause why Heav’n our back toward his cope<br/> +Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first<br/> +The successor of Peter, and the name<br/> +And title of my lineage from that stream,<br/> +That’ twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws<br/> +His limpid waters through the lowly glen.<br/> +A month and little more by proof I learnt,<br/> +With what a weight that robe of sov’reignty<br/> +Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire<br/> +Would guard it: that each other fardel seems<br/> +But feathers in the balance. Late, alas!<br/> +Was my conversion: but when I became<br/> +Rome’s pastor, I discern’d at once the dream<br/> +And cozenage of life, saw that the heart<br/> +Rested not there, and yet no prouder height<br/> +Lur’d on the climber: wherefore, of that life<br/> +No more enamour’d, in my bosom love<br/> +Of purer being kindled. For till then<br/> +I was a soul in misery, alienate<br/> +From God, and covetous of all earthly things;<br/> +Now, as thou seest, here punish’d for my doting.<br/> +Such cleansing from the taint of avarice<br/> +Do spirits converted need. This mount inflicts<br/> +No direr penalty. E’en as our eyes<br/> +Fasten’d below, nor e’er to loftier clime<br/> +Were lifted, thus hath justice level’d us<br/> +Here on the earth. As avarice quench’d our love<br/> +Of good, without which is no working, thus<br/> +Here justice holds us prison’d, hand and foot<br/> +Chain’d down and bound, while heaven’s just Lord shall please.<br/> +So long to tarry motionless outstretch’d.” +</p> + +<p> +My knees I stoop’d, and would have spoke; but he,<br/> +Ere my beginning, by his ear perceiv’d<br/> +I did him reverence; and “What cause,” said he,<br/> +“Hath bow’d thee thus!”—” Compunction,” I +rejoin’d.<br/> +“And inward awe of your high dignity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Up,” he exclaim’d, “brother! upon thy feet<br/> +Arise: err not: thy fellow servant I,<br/> +(Thine and all others’) of one Sovran Power.<br/> +If thou hast ever mark’d those holy sounds<br/> +Of gospel truth, ‘nor shall be given ill marriage,’<br/> +Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech.<br/> +Go thy ways now; and linger here no more.<br/> +Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears,<br/> +With which I hasten that whereof thou spak’st.<br/> +I have on earth a kinswoman; her name<br/> +Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill<br/> +Example of our house corrupt her not:<br/> +And she is all remaineth of me there.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XX"></a>CANTO XX</h2> + +<p> +Ill strives the will, ’gainst will more wise that strives<br/> +His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr’d,<br/> +I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave. +</p> + +<p> +Onward I mov’d: he also onward mov’d,<br/> +Who led me, coasting still, wherever place<br/> +Along the rock was vacant, as a man<br/> +Walks near the battlements on narrow wall.<br/> +For those on th’ other part, who drop by drop<br/> +Wring out their all-infecting malady,<br/> +Too closely press the verge. Accurst be thou!<br/> +Inveterate wolf! whose gorge ingluts more prey,<br/> +Than every beast beside, yet is not fill’d!<br/> +So bottomless thy maw!—Ye spheres of heaven!<br/> +To whom there are, as seems, who attribute<br/> +All change in mortal state, when is the day<br/> +Of his appearing, for whom fate reserves<br/> +To chase her hence?—With wary steps and slow<br/> +We pass’d; and I attentive to the shades,<br/> +Whom piteously I heard lament and wail;<br/> +And, ’midst the wailing, one before us heard<br/> +Cry out “O blessed Virgin!” as a dame<br/> +In the sharp pangs of childbed; and “How poor<br/> +Thou wast,” it added, “witness that low roof<br/> +Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.<br/> +O good Fabricius! thou didst virtue choose<br/> +With poverty, before great wealth with vice.” +</p> + +<p> +The words so pleas’d me, that desire to know<br/> +The spirit, from whose lip they seem’d to come,<br/> +Did draw me onward. Yet it spake the gift<br/> +Of Nicholas, which on the maidens he<br/> +Bounteous bestow’d, to save their youthful prime<br/> +Unblemish’d. “Spirit! who dost speak of deeds<br/> +So worthy, tell me who thou was,” I said,<br/> +“And why thou dost with single voice renew<br/> +Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsaf’d<br/> +Haply shall meet reward; if I return<br/> +To finish the Short pilgrimage of life,<br/> +Still speeding to its close on restless wing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I,” answer’d he, “will tell thee, not for hell,<br/> +Which thence I look for; but that in thyself<br/> +Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time<br/> +Of mortal dissolution. I was root<br/> +Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds<br/> +O’er all the Christian land, that seldom thence<br/> +Good fruit is gather’d. Vengeance soon should come,<br/> +Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power;<br/> +And vengeance I of heav’n’s great Judge implore.<br/> +Hugh Capet was I high: from me descend<br/> +The Philips and the Louis, of whom France<br/> +Newly is govern’d; born of one, who ply’d<br/> +The slaughterer’s trade at Paris. When the race<br/> +Of ancient kings had vanish’d (all save one<br/> +Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe<br/> +I found the reins of empire, and such powers<br/> +Of new acquirement, with full store of friends,<br/> +That soon the widow’d circlet of the crown<br/> +Was girt upon the temples of my son,<br/> +He, from whose bones th’ anointed race begins.<br/> +Till the great dower of Provence had remov’d<br/> +The stains, that yet obscur’d our lowly blood,<br/> +Its sway indeed was narrow, but howe’er<br/> +It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies,<br/> +Began its rapine; after, for amends,<br/> +Poitou it seiz’d, Navarre and Gascony.<br/> +To Italy came Charles, and for amends<br/> +Young Conradine an innocent victim slew,<br/> +And sent th’ angelic teacher back to heav’n,<br/> +Still for amends. I see the time at hand,<br/> +That forth from France invites another Charles<br/> +To make himself and kindred better known.<br/> +Unarm’d he issues, saving with that lance,<br/> +Which the arch-traitor tilted with; and that<br/> +He carries with so home a thrust, as rives<br/> +The bowels of poor Florence. No increase<br/> +Of territory hence, but sin and shame<br/> +Shall be his guerdon, and so much the more<br/> +As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong.<br/> +I see the other, who a prisoner late<br/> +Had steps on shore, exposing to the mart<br/> +His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do<br/> +The Corsairs for their slaves. O avarice!<br/> +What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood<br/> +So wholly to thyself, they feel no care<br/> +Of their own flesh? To hide with direr guilt<br/> +Past ill and future, lo! the flower-de-luce<br/> +Enters Alagna! in his Vicar Christ<br/> +Himself a captive, and his mockery<br/> +Acted again! Lo! to his holy lip<br/> +The vinegar and gall once more applied!<br/> +And he ’twixt living robbers doom’d to bleed!<br/> +Lo! the new Pilate, of whose cruelty<br/> +Such violence cannot fill the measure up,<br/> +With no degree to sanction, pushes on<br/> +Into the temple his yet eager sails! +</p> + +<p> +“O sovran Master! when shall I rejoice<br/> +To see the vengeance, which thy wrath well-pleas’d<br/> +In secret silence broods?—While daylight lasts,<br/> +So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse<br/> +Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn’dst<br/> +To me for comment, is the general theme<br/> +Of all our prayers: but when it darkens, then<br/> +A different strain we utter, then record<br/> +Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold<br/> +Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes<br/> +Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued,<br/> +Mark’d for derision to all future times:<br/> +And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey,<br/> +That yet he seems by Joshua’s ire pursued.<br/> +Sapphira with her husband next, we blame;<br/> +And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp<br/> +Spurn’d Heliodorus. All the mountain round<br/> +Rings with the infamy of Thracia’s king,<br/> +Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout<br/> +Ascends: “Declare, O Crassus! for thou know’st,<br/> +The flavour of thy gold.” The voice of each<br/> +Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts,<br/> +Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave.<br/> +Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears’d<br/> +That blessedness we tell of in the day:<br/> +But near me none beside his accent rais’d.” +</p> + +<p> +From him we now had parted, and essay’d<br/> +With utmost efforts to surmount the way,<br/> +When I did feel, as nodding to its fall,<br/> +The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill<br/> +Seiz’d on me, as on one to death convey’d.<br/> +So shook not Delos, when Latona there<br/> +Couch’d to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven. +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith from every side a shout arose<br/> +So vehement, that suddenly my guide<br/> +Drew near, and cried: “Doubt not, while I conduct thee.”<br/> +“Glory!” all shouted (such the sounds mine ear<br/> +Gather’d from those, who near me swell’d the sounds)<br/> +“Glory in the highest be to God.” We stood<br/> +Immovably suspended, like to those,<br/> +The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem’s field<br/> +That song: till ceas’d the trembling, and the song<br/> +Was ended: then our hallow’d path resum’d,<br/> +Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew’d<br/> +Their custom’d mourning. Never in my breast<br/> +Did ignorance so struggle with desire<br/> +Of knowledge, if my memory do not err,<br/> +As in that moment; nor through haste dar’d I<br/> +To question, nor myself could aught discern,<br/> +So on I far’d in thoughtfulness and dread. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXI"></a>CANTO XXI</h2> + +<p> +The natural thirst, ne’er quench’d but from the well,<br/> +Whereof the woman of Samaria crav’d,<br/> +Excited: haste along the cumber’d path,<br/> +After my guide, impell’d; and pity mov’d<br/> +My bosom for the ’vengeful deed, though just.<br/> +When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ<br/> +Appear’d unto the two upon their way,<br/> +New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us<br/> +A shade appear’d, and after us approach’d,<br/> +Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet.<br/> +We were not ware of it; so first it spake,<br/> +Saying, “God give you peace, my brethren!” then<br/> +Sudden we turn’d: and Virgil such salute,<br/> +As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried:<br/> +“Peace in the blessed council be thy lot<br/> +Awarded by that righteous court, which me<br/> +To everlasting banishment exiles!” +</p> + +<p> +“How!” he exclaim’d, nor from his speed meanwhile<br/> +Desisting, “If that ye be spirits, whom God<br/> +Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height<br/> +Has been thus far your guide?” To whom the bard:<br/> +“If thou observe the tokens, which this man<br/> +Trac’d by the finger of the angel bears,<br/> +’Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just<br/> +He needs must share. But sithence she, whose wheel<br/> +Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn<br/> +That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil’d,<br/> +Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes,<br/> +His soul, that sister is to mine and thine,<br/> +Not of herself could mount, for not like ours<br/> +Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf<br/> +Of hell was ta’en, to lead him, and will lead<br/> +Far as my lore avails. But, if thou know,<br/> +Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile<br/> +Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once<br/> +Seem’d shouting, even from his wave-wash’d foot.” +</p> + +<p> +That questioning so tallied with my wish,<br/> +The thirst did feel abatement of its edge<br/> +E’en from expectance. He forthwith replied,<br/> +“In its devotion nought irregular<br/> +This mount can witness, or by punctual rule<br/> +Unsanction’d; here from every change exempt.<br/> +Other than that, which heaven in itself<br/> +Doth of itself receive, no influence<br/> +Can reach us. Tempest none, shower, hail or snow,<br/> +Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls<br/> +Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds<br/> +Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance<br/> +Ne’er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams,<br/> +That yonder often shift on each side heav’n.<br/> +Vapour adust doth never mount above<br/> +The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon<br/> +Peter’s vicegerent stands. Lower perchance,<br/> +With various motion rock’d, trembles the soil:<br/> +But here, through wind in earth’s deep hollow pent,<br/> +I know not how, yet never trembled: then<br/> +Trembles, when any spirit feels itself<br/> +So purified, that it may rise, or move<br/> +For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues.<br/> +Purification by the will alone<br/> +Is prov’d, that free to change society<br/> +Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will.<br/> +Desire of bliss is present from the first;<br/> +But strong propension hinders, to that wish<br/> +By the just ordinance of heav’n oppos’d;<br/> +Propension now as eager to fulfil<br/> +Th’ allotted torment, as erewhile to sin.<br/> +And I who in this punishment had lain<br/> +Five hundred years and more, but now have felt<br/> +Free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt’st<br/> +The mountain tremble, and the spirits devout<br/> +Heard’st, over all his limits, utter praise<br/> +To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy<br/> +To hasten.” Thus he spake: and since the draught<br/> +Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen,<br/> +No words may speak my fullness of content. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said the instructor sage, “I see the net<br/> +That takes ye here, and how the toils are loos’d,<br/> +Why rocks the mountain and why ye rejoice.<br/> +Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn,<br/> +Who on the earth thou wast, and wherefore here<br/> +So many an age wert prostrate.”—“In that time,<br/> +When the good Titus, with Heav’n’s King to help,<br/> +Aveng’d those piteous gashes, whence the blood<br/> +By Judas sold did issue, with the name<br/> +Most lasting and most honour’d there was I<br/> +Abundantly renown’d,” the shade reply’d,<br/> +“Not yet with faith endued. So passing sweet<br/> +My vocal Spirit, from Tolosa, Rome<br/> +To herself drew me, where I merited<br/> +A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow.<br/> +Statius they name me still. Of Thebes I sang,<br/> +And next of great Achilles: but i’ th’ way<br/> +Fell with the second burthen. Of my flame<br/> +Those sparkles were the seeds, which I deriv’d<br/> +From the bright fountain of celestial fire<br/> +That feeds unnumber’d lamps, the song I mean<br/> +Which sounds Aeneas’ wand’rings: that the breast<br/> +I hung at, that the nurse, from whom my veins<br/> +Drank inspiration: whose authority<br/> +Was ever sacred with me. To have liv’d<br/> +Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide<br/> +The revolution of another sun<br/> +Beyond my stated years in banishment.” +</p> + +<p> +The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn’d to me,<br/> +And holding silence: by his countenance<br/> +Enjoin’d me silence but the power which wills,<br/> +Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears<br/> +Follow so closely on the passion prompts them,<br/> +They wait not for the motions of the will<br/> +In natures most sincere. I did but smile,<br/> +As one who winks; and thereupon the shade<br/> +Broke off, and peer’d into mine eyes, where best<br/> +Our looks interpret. “So to good event<br/> +Mayst thou conduct such great emprize,” he cried,<br/> +“Say, why across thy visage beam’d, but now,<br/> +The lightning of a smile!” On either part<br/> +Now am I straiten’d; one conjures me speak,<br/> +Th’ other to silence binds me: whence a sigh<br/> +I utter, and the sigh is heard. “Speak on; “<br/> +The teacher cried; “and do not fear to speak,<br/> +But tell him what so earnestly he asks.”<br/> +Whereon I thus: “Perchance, O ancient spirit!<br/> +Thou marvel’st at my smiling. There is room<br/> +For yet more wonder. He who guides my ken<br/> +On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom<br/> +Thou didst presume of men arid gods to sing.<br/> +If other cause thou deem’dst for which I smil’d,<br/> +Leave it as not the true one; and believe<br/> +Those words, thou spak’st of him, indeed the cause.” +</p> + +<p> +Now down he bent t’ embrace my teacher’s feet;<br/> +But he forbade him: “Brother! do it not:<br/> +Thou art a shadow, and behold’st a shade.”<br/> +He rising answer’d thus: “Now hast thou prov’d<br/> +The force and ardour of the love I bear thee,<br/> +When I forget we are but things of air,<br/> +And as a substance treat an empty shade.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXII"></a>CANTO XXII</h2> + +<p> +Now we had left the angel, who had turn’d<br/> +To the sixth circle our ascending step,<br/> +One gash from off my forehead raz’d: while they,<br/> +Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth:<br/> +“Blessed!” and ended with, “I thirst:” and I,<br/> +More nimble than along the other straits,<br/> +So journey’d, that, without the sense of toil,<br/> +I follow’d upward the swift-footed shades;<br/> +When Virgil thus began: “Let its pure flame<br/> +From virtue flow, and love can never fail<br/> +To warm another’s bosom’ so the light<br/> +Shine manifestly forth. Hence from that hour,<br/> +When ’mongst us in the purlieus of the deep,<br/> +Came down the spirit of Aquinum’s hard,<br/> +Who told of thine affection, my good will<br/> +Hath been for thee of quality as strong<br/> +As ever link’d itself to one not seen.<br/> +Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me.<br/> +But tell me: and if too secure I loose<br/> +The rein with a friend’s license, as a friend<br/> +Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend:<br/> +How chanc’d it covetous desire could find<br/> +Place in that bosom, ’midst such ample store<br/> +Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasur’d there?” +</p> + +<p> +First somewhat mov’d to laughter by his words,<br/> +Statius replied: “Each syllable of thine<br/> +Is a dear pledge of love. Things oft appear<br/> +That minister false matters to our doubts,<br/> +When their true causes are remov’d from sight.<br/> +Thy question doth assure me, thou believ’st<br/> +I was on earth a covetous man, perhaps<br/> +Because thou found’st me in that circle plac’d.<br/> +Know then I was too wide of avarice:<br/> +And e’en for that excess, thousands of moons<br/> +Have wax’d and wan’d upon my sufferings.<br/> +And were it not that I with heedful care<br/> +Noted where thou exclaim’st as if in ire<br/> +With human nature, ‘Why, thou cursed thirst<br/> +Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide<br/> +The appetite of mortals?’ I had met<br/> +The fierce encounter of the voluble rock.<br/> +Then was I ware that with too ample wing<br/> +The hands may haste to lavishment, and turn’d,<br/> +As from my other evil, so from this<br/> +In penitence. How many from their grave<br/> +Shall with shorn locks arise, who living, aye<br/> +And at life’s last extreme, of this offence,<br/> +Through ignorance, did not repent. And know,<br/> +The fault which lies direct from any sin<br/> +In level opposition, here With that<br/> +Wastes its green rankness on one common heap.<br/> +Therefore if I have been with those, who wail<br/> +Their avarice, to cleanse me, through reverse<br/> +Of their transgression, such hath been my lot.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the sovran of the pastoral song:<br/> +“While thou didst sing that cruel warfare wag’d<br/> +By the twin sorrow of Jocasta’s womb,<br/> +From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems<br/> +As faith had not been shine: without the which<br/> +Good deeds suffice not. And if so, what sun<br/> +Rose on thee, or what candle pierc’d the dark<br/> +That thou didst after see to hoist the sail,<br/> +And follow, where the fisherman had led?” +</p> + +<p> +He answering thus: “By thee conducted first,<br/> +I enter’d the Parnassian grots, and quaff’d<br/> +Of the clear spring; illumin’d first by thee<br/> +Open’d mine eyes to God. Thou didst, as one,<br/> +Who, journeying through the darkness, hears a light<br/> +Behind, that profits not himself, but makes<br/> +His followers wise, when thou exclaimedst, ‘Lo!<br/> +A renovated world! Justice return’d!<br/> +Times of primeval innocence restor’d!<br/> +And a new race descended from above!’<br/> +Poet and Christian both to thee I owed.<br/> +That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace,<br/> +My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines<br/> +With livelier colouring. Soon o’er all the world,<br/> +By messengers from heav’n, the true belief<br/> +Teem’d now prolific, and that word of thine<br/> +Accordant, to the new instructors chim’d.<br/> +Induc’d by which agreement, I was wont<br/> +Resort to them; and soon their sanctity<br/> +So won upon me, that, Domitian’s rage<br/> +Pursuing them, I mix’d my tears with theirs,<br/> +And, while on earth I stay’d, still succour’d them;<br/> +And their most righteous customs made me scorn<br/> +All sects besides. Before I led the Greeks<br/> +In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes,<br/> +I was baptiz’d; but secretly, through fear,<br/> +Remain’d a Christian, and conform’d long time<br/> +To Pagan rites. Five centuries and more,<br/> +T for that lukewarmness was fain to pace<br/> +Round the fourth circle. Thou then, who hast rais’d<br/> +The covering, which did hide such blessing from me,<br/> +Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb,<br/> +Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides,<br/> +Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn’d<br/> +They dwell, and in what province of the deep.”<br/> +“These,” said my guide, “with Persius and myself,<br/> +And others many more, are with that Greek,<br/> +Of mortals, the most cherish’d by the Nine,<br/> +In the first ward of darkness. There ofttimes<br/> +We of that mount hold converse, on whose top<br/> +For aye our nurses live. We have the bard<br/> +Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho,<br/> +Simonides, and many a Grecian else<br/> +Ingarlanded with laurel. Of thy train<br/> +Antigone is there, Deiphile,<br/> +Argia, and as sorrowful as erst<br/> +Ismene, and who show’d Langia’s wave:<br/> +Deidamia with her sisters there,<br/> +And blind Tiresias’ daughter, and the bride<br/> +Sea-born of Peleus.” Either poet now<br/> +Was silent, and no longer by th’ ascent<br/> +Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast<br/> +Inquiring eyes. Four handmaids of the day<br/> +Had finish’d now their office, and the fifth<br/> +Was at the chariot-beam, directing still<br/> +Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide:<br/> +“Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink<br/> +Bend the right shoulder’ circuiting the mount,<br/> +As we have ever us’d.” So custom there<br/> +Was usher to the road, the which we chose<br/> +Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied. +</p> + +<p> +They on before me went; I sole pursued,<br/> +List’ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey’d<br/> +Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy.<br/> +But soon they ceas’d; for midway of the road<br/> +A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung,<br/> +And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir<br/> +Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads,<br/> +So downward this less ample spread, that none.<br/> +Methinks, aloft may climb. Upon the side,<br/> +That clos’d our path, a liquid crystal fell<br/> +From the steep rock, and through the sprays above<br/> +Stream’d showering. With associate step the bards<br/> +Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves<br/> +A voice was heard: “Ye shall be chary of me;”<br/> +And after added: “Mary took more thought<br/> +For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,<br/> +Than for herself who answers now for you.<br/> +The women of old Rome were satisfied<br/> +With water for their beverage. Daniel fed<br/> +On pulse, and wisdom gain’d. The primal age<br/> +Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then<br/> +Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet<br/> +Run nectar. Honey and locusts were the food,<br/> +Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness<br/> +Fed, and that eminence of glory reach’d<br/> +And greatness, which the’ Evangelist records.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXIII"></a>CANTO XXIII</h2> + +<p> +On the green leaf mine eyes were fix’d, like his<br/> +Who throws away his days in idle chase<br/> +Of the diminutive, when thus I heard<br/> +The more than father warn me: “Son! our time<br/> +Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat my face and steps at once I turn’d<br/> +Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer’d<br/> +I journey’d on, and felt no toil: and lo!<br/> +A sound of weeping and a song: “My lips,<br/> +O Lord!” and these so mingled, it gave birth<br/> +To pleasure and to pain. “O Sire, belov’d!<br/> +Say what is this I hear?” Thus I inquir’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Spirits,” said he, “who as they go, perchance,<br/> +Their debt of duty pay.” As on their road<br/> +The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some<br/> +Not known unto them, turn to them, and look,<br/> +But stay not; thus, approaching from behind<br/> +With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass’d,<br/> +A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.<br/> +The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale<br/> +Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones<br/> +Stood staring thro’ the skin. I do not think<br/> +Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show’d,<br/> +When pinc’ed by sharp-set famine to the quick. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo!” to myself I mus’d, “the race, who lost<br/> +Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak<br/> +Prey’d on her child.” The sockets seem’d as rings,<br/> +From which the gems were drops. Who reads the name<br/> +Of man upon his forehead, there the M<br/> +Had trac’d most plainly. Who would deem, that scent<br/> +Of water and an apple, could have prov’d<br/> +Powerful to generate such pining want,<br/> +Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood<br/> +Wond’ring what thus could waste them (for the cause<br/> +Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind<br/> +Appear’d not) lo! a spirit turn’d his eyes<br/> +In their deep-sunken cell, and fasten’d then<br/> +On me, then cried with vehemence aloud:<br/> +“What grace is this vouchsaf’d me?” By his looks<br/> +I ne’er had recogniz’d him: but the voice<br/> +Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal’d.<br/> +Remembrance of his alter’d lineaments<br/> +Was kindled from that spark; and I agniz’d<br/> +The visage of Forese. “Ah! respect<br/> +This wan and leprous wither’d skin,” thus he<br/> +Suppliant implor’d, “this macerated flesh.<br/> +Speak to me truly of thyself. And who<br/> +Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there?<br/> +Be it not said thou Scorn’st to talk with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That face of thine,” I answer’d him, “which dead<br/> +I once bewail’d, disposes me not less<br/> +For weeping, when I see It thus transform’d.<br/> +Say then, by Heav’n, what blasts ye thus? The whilst<br/> +I wonder, ask not Speech from me: unapt<br/> +Is he to speak, whom other will employs. +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “The water and tee plant we pass’d,<br/> +Virtue possesses, by th’ eternal will<br/> +Infus’d, the which so pines me. Every spirit,<br/> +Whose song bewails his gluttony indulg’d<br/> +Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst<br/> +Is purified. The odour, which the fruit,<br/> +And spray, that showers upon the verdure, breathe,<br/> +Inflames us with desire to feed and drink.<br/> +Nor once alone encompassing our route<br/> +We come to add fresh fuel to the pain:<br/> +Pain, said I? solace rather: for that will<br/> +To the tree leads us, by which Christ was led<br/> +To call Elias, joyful when he paid<br/> +Our ransom from his vein.” I answering thus:<br/> +“Forese! from that day, in which the world<br/> +For better life thou changedst, not five years<br/> +Have circled. If the power of sinning more<br/> +Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew’st<br/> +That kindly grief, which re-espouses us<br/> +To God, how hither art thou come so soon?<br/> +I thought to find thee lower, there, where time<br/> +Is recompense for time.” He straight replied:<br/> +“To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction<br/> +I have been brought thus early by the tears<br/> +Stream’d down my Nella’s cheeks. Her prayers devout,<br/> +Her sighs have drawn me from the coast, where oft<br/> +Expectance lingers, and have set me free<br/> +From th’ other circles. In the sight of God<br/> +So much the dearer is my widow priz’d,<br/> +She whom I lov’d so fondly, as she ranks<br/> +More singly eminent for virtuous deeds.<br/> +The tract most barb’rous of Sardinia’s isle,<br/> +Hath dames more chaste and modester by far<br/> +Than that wherein I left her. O sweet brother!<br/> +What wouldst thou have me say? A time to come<br/> +Stands full within my view, to which this hour<br/> +Shall not be counted of an ancient date,<br/> +When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn’d<br/> +Th’ unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare<br/> +Unkerchief’d bosoms to the common gaze.<br/> +What savage women hath the world e’er seen,<br/> +What Saracens, for whom there needed scourge<br/> +Of spiritual or other discipline,<br/> +To force them walk with cov’ring on their limbs!<br/> +But did they see, the shameless ones, that Heav’n<br/> +Wafts on swift wing toward them, while I speak,<br/> +Their mouths were op’d for howling: they shall taste<br/> +Of Borrow (unless foresight cheat me here)<br/> +Or ere the cheek of him be cloth’d with down<br/> +Who is now rock’d with lullaby asleep.<br/> +Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more,<br/> +Thou seest how not I alone but all<br/> +Gaze, where thou veil’st the intercepted sun.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence I replied: “If thou recall to mind<br/> +What we were once together, even yet<br/> +Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore.<br/> +That I forsook that life, was due to him<br/> +Who there precedes me, some few evenings past,<br/> +When she was round, who shines with sister lamp<br/> +To his, that glisters yonder,” and I show’d<br/> +The sun. “Tis he, who through profoundest night<br/> +Of he true dead has brought me, with this flesh<br/> +As true, that follows. From that gloom the aid<br/> +Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb,<br/> +And climbing wind along this mountain-steep,<br/> +Which rectifies in you whate’er the world<br/> +Made crooked and deprav’d I have his word,<br/> +That he will bear me company as far<br/> +As till I come where Beatrice dwells:<br/> +But there must leave me. Virgil is that spirit,<br/> +Who thus hath promis’d,” and I pointed to him;<br/> +“The other is that shade, for whom so late<br/> +Your realm, as he arose, exulting shook<br/> +Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXIV"></a>CANTO XXIV</h2> + +<p> +Our journey was not slacken’d by our talk,<br/> +Nor yet our talk by journeying. Still we spake,<br/> +And urg’d our travel stoutly, like a ship<br/> +When the wind sits astern. The shadowy forms,<br/> +That seem’d things dead and dead again, drew in<br/> +At their deep-delved orbs rare wonder of me,<br/> +Perceiving I had life; and I my words<br/> +Continued, and thus spake; “He journeys up<br/> +Perhaps more tardily then else he would,<br/> +For others’ sake. But tell me, if thou know’st,<br/> +Where is Piccarda? Tell me, if I see<br/> +Any of mark, among this multitude,<br/> +Who eye me thus.”—“My sister (she for whom,<br/> +’Twixt beautiful and good I cannot say<br/> +Which name was fitter) wears e’en now her crown,<br/> +And triumphs in Olympus.” Saying this,<br/> +He added: “Since spare diet hath so worn<br/> +Our semblance out, ’tis lawful here to name<br/> +Each one . This,” and his finger then he rais’d,<br/> +“Is Buonaggiuna,—Buonaggiuna, he<br/> +Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierc’d<br/> +Unto a leaner fineness than the rest,<br/> +Had keeping of the church: he was of Tours,<br/> +And purges by wan abstinence away<br/> +Bolsena’s eels and cups of muscadel.” +</p> + +<p> +He show’d me many others, one by one,<br/> +And all, as they were nam’d, seem’d well content;<br/> +For no dark gesture I discern’d in any.<br/> +I saw through hunger Ubaldino grind<br/> +His teeth on emptiness; and Boniface,<br/> +That wav’d the crozier o’er a num’rous flock.<br/> +I saw the Marquis, who tad time erewhile<br/> +To swill at Forli with less drought, yet so<br/> +Was one ne’er sated. I howe’er, like him,<br/> +That gazing ’midst a crowd, singles out one,<br/> +So singled him of Lucca; for methought<br/> +Was none amongst them took such note of me.<br/> +Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca:<br/> +The sound was indistinct, and murmur’d there,<br/> +Where justice, that so strips them, fix’d her sting. +</p> + +<p> +“Spirit!” said I, “it seems as thou wouldst fain<br/> +Speak with me. Let me hear thee. Mutual wish<br/> +To converse prompts, which let us both indulge.” +</p> + +<p> +He, answ’ring, straight began: “Woman is born,<br/> +Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make<br/> +My city please thee, blame it as they may.<br/> +Go then with this forewarning. If aught false<br/> +My whisper too implied, th’ event shall tell<br/> +But say, if of a truth I see the man<br/> +Of that new lay th’ inventor, which begins<br/> +With ‘Ladies, ye that con the lore of love’.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom I thus: “Count of me but as one<br/> +Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes,<br/> +Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brother!” said he, “the hind’rance which once +held<br/> +The notary with Guittone and myself,<br/> +Short of that new and sweeter style I hear,<br/> +Is now disclos’d. I see how ye your plumes<br/> +Stretch, as th’ inditer guides them; which, no question,<br/> +Ours did not. He that seeks a grace beyond,<br/> +Sees not the distance parts one style from other.”<br/> +And, as contented, here he held his peace. +</p> + +<p> +Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile,<br/> +In squared regiment direct their course,<br/> +Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight;<br/> +Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn’d<br/> +Their visage, faster deaf, nimble alike<br/> +Through leanness and desire. And as a man,<br/> +Tir’d With the motion of a trotting steed,<br/> +Slacks pace, and stays behind his company,<br/> +Till his o’erbreathed lungs keep temperate time;<br/> +E’en so Forese let that holy crew<br/> +Proceed, behind them lingering at my side,<br/> +And saying: “When shall I again behold thee?” +</p> + +<p> +“How long my life may last,” said I, “I know not;<br/> +This know, how soon soever I return,<br/> +My wishes will before me have arriv’d.<br/> +Sithence the place, where I am set to live,<br/> +Is, day by day, more scoop’d of all its good,<br/> +And dismal ruin seems to threaten it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go now,” he cried: “lo! he, whose guilt is most,<br/> +Passes before my vision, dragg’d at heels<br/> +Of an infuriate beast. Toward the vale,<br/> +Where guilt hath no redemption, on it speeds,<br/> +Each step increasing swiftness on the last;<br/> +Until a blow it strikes, that leaveth him<br/> +A corse most vilely shatter’d. No long space<br/> +Those wheels have yet to roll” (therewith his eyes<br/> +Look’d up to heav’n) “ere thou shalt plainly see<br/> +That which my words may not more plainly tell.<br/> +I quit thee: time is precious here: I lose<br/> +Too much, thus measuring my pace with shine.” +</p> + +<p> +As from a troop of well-rank’d chivalry<br/> +One knight, more enterprising than the rest,<br/> +Pricks forth at gallop, eager to display<br/> +His prowess in the first encounter prov’d<br/> +So parted he from us with lengthen’d strides,<br/> +And left me on the way with those twain spirits,<br/> +Who were such mighty marshals of the world. +</p> + +<p> +When he beyond us had so fled mine eyes<br/> +No nearer reach’d him, than my thought his words,<br/> +The branches of another fruit, thick hung,<br/> +And blooming fresh, appear’d. E’en as our steps<br/> +Turn’d thither, not far off it rose to view.<br/> +Beneath it were a multitude, that rais’d<br/> +Their hands, and shouted forth I know not What<br/> +Unto the boughs; like greedy and fond brats,<br/> +That beg, and answer none obtain from him,<br/> +Of whom they beg; but more to draw them on,<br/> +He at arm’s length the object of their wish<br/> +Above them holds aloft, and hides it not. +</p> + +<p> +At length, as undeceiv’d they went their way:<br/> +And we approach the tree, who vows and tears<br/> +Sue to in vain, the mighty tree. “Pass on,<br/> +And come not near. Stands higher up the wood,<br/> +Whereof Eve tasted, and from it was ta’en<br/> +‘this plant.” Such sounds from midst the thickets came.<br/> +Whence I, with either bard, close to the side<br/> +That rose, pass’d forth beyond. “Remember,” next<br/> +We heard, “those noblest creatures of the clouds,<br/> +How they their twofold bosoms overgorg’d<br/> +Oppos’d in fight to Theseus: call to mind<br/> +The Hebrews, how effeminate they stoop’d<br/> +To ease their thirst; whence Gideon’s ranks were thinn’d,<br/> +As he to Midian march’d adown the hills.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus near one border coasting, still we heard<br/> +The sins of gluttony, with woe erewhile<br/> +Reguerdon’d. Then along the lonely path,<br/> +Once more at large, full thousand paces on<br/> +We travel’d, each contemplative and mute. +</p> + +<p> +“Why pensive journey thus ye three alone?”<br/> +Thus suddenly a voice exclaim’d: whereat<br/> +I shook, as doth a scar’d and paltry beast;<br/> +Then rais’d my head to look from whence it came. +</p> + +<p> +Was ne’er, in furnace, glass, or metal seen<br/> +So bright and glowing red, as was the shape<br/> +I now beheld. “If ye desire to mount,”<br/> +He cried, “here must ye turn. This way he goes,<br/> +Who goes in quest of peace.” His countenance<br/> +Had dazzled me; and to my guides I fac’d<br/> +Backward, like one who walks, as sound directs. +</p> + +<p> +As when, to harbinger the dawn, springs up<br/> +On freshen’d wing the air of May, and breathes<br/> +Of fragrance, all impregn’d with herb and flowers,<br/> +E’en such a wind I felt upon my front<br/> +Blow gently, and the moving of a wing<br/> +Perceiv’d, that moving shed ambrosial smell;<br/> +And then a voice: “Blessed are they, whom grace<br/> +Doth so illume, that appetite in them<br/> +Exhaleth no inordinate desire,<br/> +Still hung’ring as the rule of temperance wills.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXV"></a>CANTO XXV</h2> + +<p> +It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need<br/> +To walk uncrippled: for the sun had now<br/> +To Taurus the meridian circle left,<br/> +And to the Scorpion left the night. As one<br/> +That makes no pause, but presses on his road,<br/> +Whate’er betide him, if some urgent need<br/> +Impel: so enter’d we upon our way,<br/> +One before other; for, but singly, none<br/> +That steep and narrow scale admits to climb. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the young stork lifteth up his wing<br/> +Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit<br/> +The nest, and drops it; so in me desire<br/> +Of questioning my guide arose, and fell,<br/> +Arriving even to the act, that marks<br/> +A man prepar’d for speech. Him all our haste<br/> +Restrain’d not, but thus spake the sire belov’d:<br/> +Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip<br/> +Stands trembling for its flight.” Encourag’d thus<br/> +I straight began: “How there can leanness come,<br/> +Where is no want of nourishment to feed?” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” he answer’d, “hadst remember’d +thee,<br/> +How Meleager with the wasting brand<br/> +Wasted alike, by equal fires consm’d,<br/> +This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought,<br/> +How in the mirror your reflected form<br/> +With mimic motion vibrates, what now seems<br/> +Hard, had appear’d no harder than the pulp<br/> +Of summer fruit mature. But that thy will<br/> +In certainty may find its full repose,<br/> +Lo Statius here! on him I call, and pray<br/> +That he would now be healer of thy wound.” +</p> + +<p> +“If in thy presence I unfold to him<br/> +The secrets of heaven’s vengeance, let me plead<br/> +Thine own injunction, to exculpate me.”<br/> +So Statius answer’d, and forthwith began:<br/> +“Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind<br/> +Receive them: so shall they be light to clear<br/> +The doubt thou offer’st. Blood, concocted well,<br/> +Which by the thirsty veins is ne’er imbib’d,<br/> +And rests as food superfluous, to be ta’en<br/> +From the replenish’d table, in the heart<br/> +Derives effectual virtue, that informs<br/> +The several human limbs, as being that,<br/> +Which passes through the veins itself to make them.<br/> +Yet more concocted it descends, where shame<br/> +Forbids to mention: and from thence distils<br/> +In natural vessel on another’s blood.<br/> +Then each unite together, one dispos’d<br/> +T’ endure, to act the other, through meet frame<br/> +Of its recipient mould: that being reach’d,<br/> +It ’gins to work, coagulating first;<br/> +Then vivifies what its own substance caus’d<br/> +To bear. With animation now indued,<br/> +The active virtue (differing from a plant<br/> +No further, than that this is on the way<br/> +And at its limit that) continues yet<br/> +To operate, that now it moves, and feels,<br/> +As sea sponge clinging to the rock: and there<br/> +Assumes th’ organic powers its seed convey’d.<br/> +‘This is the period, son! at which the virtue,<br/> +That from the generating heart proceeds,<br/> +Is pliant and expansive; for each limb<br/> +Is in the heart by forgeful nature plann’d.<br/> +How babe of animal becomes, remains<br/> +For thy consid’ring. At this point, more wise,<br/> +Than thou hast err’d, making the soul disjoin’d<br/> +From passive intellect, because he saw<br/> +No organ for the latter’s use assign’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Open thy bosom to the truth that comes.<br/> +Know soon as in the embryo, to the brain,<br/> +Articulation is complete, then turns<br/> +The primal Mover with a smile of joy<br/> +On such great work of nature, and imbreathes<br/> +New spirit replete with virtue, that what here<br/> +Active it finds, to its own substance draws,<br/> +And forms an individual soul, that lives,<br/> +And feels, and bends reflective on itself.<br/> +And that thou less mayst marvel at the word,<br/> +Mark the sun’s heat, how that to wine doth change,<br/> +Mix’d with the moisture filter’d through the vine. +</p> + +<p> +“When Lachesis hath spun the thread, the soul<br/> +Takes with her both the human and divine,<br/> +Memory, intelligence, and will, in act<br/> +Far keener than before, the other powers<br/> +Inactive all and mute. No pause allow’d,<br/> +In wond’rous sort self-moving, to one strand<br/> +Of those, where the departed roam, she falls,<br/> +Here learns her destin’d path. Soon as the place<br/> +Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams,<br/> +Distinct as in the living limbs before:<br/> +And as the air, when saturate with showers,<br/> +The casual beam refracting, decks itself<br/> +With many a hue; so here the ambient air<br/> +Weareth that form, which influence of the soul<br/> +Imprints on it; and like the flame, that where<br/> +The fire moves, thither follows, so henceforth<br/> +The new form on the spirit follows still:<br/> +Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call’d,<br/> +With each sense even to the sight endued:<br/> +Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs<br/> +Which thou mayst oft have witness’d on the mount<br/> +Th’ obedient shadow fails not to present<br/> +Whatever varying passion moves within us.<br/> +And this the cause of what thou marvel’st at.” +</p> + +<p> +Now the last flexure of our way we reach’d,<br/> +And to the right hand turning, other care<br/> +Awaits us. Here the rocky precipice<br/> +Hurls forth redundant flames, and from the rim<br/> +A blast upblown, with forcible rebuff<br/> +Driveth them back, sequester’d from its bound. +</p> + +<p> +Behoov’d us, one by one, along the side,<br/> +That border’d on the void, to pass; and I<br/> +Fear’d on one hand the fire, on th’ other fear’d<br/> +Headlong to fall: when thus th’ instructor warn’d:<br/> +“Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes.<br/> +A little swerving and the way is lost.” +</p> + +<p> +Then from the bosom of the burning mass,<br/> +“O God of mercy!” heard I sung; and felt<br/> +No less desire to turn. And when I saw<br/> +Spirits along the flame proceeding, I<br/> +Between their footsteps and mine own was fain<br/> +To share by turns my view. At the hymn’s close<br/> +They shouted loud, “I do not know a man;”<br/> +Then in low voice again took up the strain,<br/> +Which once more ended, “To the wood,” they cried,<br/> +“Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto, stung<br/> +With Cytherea’s poison:” then return’d<br/> +Unto their song; then marry a pair extoll’d,<br/> +Who liv’d in virtue chastely, and the bands<br/> +Of wedded love. Nor from that task, I ween,<br/> +Surcease they; whilesoe’er the scorching fire<br/> +Enclasps them. Of such skill appliance needs<br/> +To medicine the wound, that healeth last. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXVI"></a>CANTO XXVI</h2> + +<p> +While singly thus along the rim we walk’d,<br/> +Oft the good master warn’d me: “Look thou well.<br/> +Avail it that I caution thee.” The sun<br/> +Now all the western clime irradiate chang’d<br/> +From azure tinct to white; and, as I pass’d,<br/> +My passing shadow made the umber’d flame<br/> +Burn ruddier. At so strange a sight I mark’d<br/> +That many a spirit marvel’d on his way. +</p> + +<p> +This bred occasion first to speak of me,<br/> +“He seems,” said they, “no insubstantial frame:”<br/> +Then to obtain what certainty they might,<br/> +Stretch’d towards me, careful not to overpass<br/> +The burning pale. “O thou, who followest<br/> +The others, haply not more slow than they,<br/> +But mov’d by rev’rence, answer me, who burn<br/> +In thirst and fire: nor I alone, but these<br/> +All for thine answer do more thirst, than doth<br/> +Indian or Aethiop for the cooling stream.<br/> +Tell us, how is it that thou mak’st thyself<br/> +A wall against the sun, as thou not yet<br/> +Into th’ inextricable toils of death<br/> +Hadst enter’d?” Thus spake one, and I had straight<br/> +Declar’d me, if attention had not turn’d<br/> +To new appearance. Meeting these, there came,<br/> +Midway the burning path, a crowd, on whom<br/> +Earnestly gazing, from each part I view<br/> +The shadows all press forward, sev’rally<br/> +Each snatch a hasty kiss, and then away.<br/> +E’en so the emmets, ’mid their dusky troops,<br/> +Peer closely one at other, to spy out<br/> +Their mutual road perchance, and how they thrive. +</p> + +<p> +That friendly greeting parted, ere dispatch<br/> +Of the first onward step, from either tribe<br/> +Loud clamour rises: those, who newly come,<br/> +Shout Sodom and Gomorrah!” these, “The cow<br/> +Pasiphae enter’d, that the beast she woo’d<br/> +Might rush unto her luxury.” Then as cranes,<br/> +That part towards the Riphaean mountains fly,<br/> +Part towards the Lybic sands, these to avoid<br/> +The ice, and those the sun; so hasteth off<br/> +One crowd, advances th’ other; and resume<br/> +Their first song weeping, and their several shout. +</p> + +<p> +Again drew near my side the very same,<br/> +Who had erewhile besought me, and their looks<br/> +Mark’d eagerness to listen. I, who twice<br/> +Their will had noted, spake: “O spirits secure,<br/> +Whene’er the time may be, of peaceful end!<br/> +My limbs, nor crude, nor in mature old age,<br/> +Have I left yonder: here they bear me, fed<br/> +With blood, and sinew-strung. That I no more<br/> +May live in blindness, hence I tend aloft.<br/> +There is a dame on high, who wind for us<br/> +This grace, by which my mortal through your realm<br/> +I bear. But may your utmost wish soon meet<br/> +Such full fruition, that the orb of heaven,<br/> +Fullest of love, and of most ample space,<br/> +Receive you, as ye tell (upon my page<br/> +Henceforth to stand recorded) who ye are,<br/> +And what this multitude, that at your backs<br/> +Have past behind us.” As one, mountain-bred,<br/> +Rugged and clownish, if some city’s walls<br/> +He chance to enter, round him stares agape,<br/> +Confounded and struck dumb; e’en such appear’d<br/> +Each spirit. But when rid of that amaze,<br/> +(Not long the inmate of a noble heart)<br/> +He, who before had question’d, thus resum’d:<br/> +“O blessed, who, for death preparing, tak’st<br/> +Experience of our limits, in thy bark!<br/> +Their crime, who not with us proceed, was that,<br/> +For which, as he did triumph, Caesar heard<br/> +The snout of ‘queen,’ to taunt him. Hence their cry<br/> +Of ‘Sodom,’ as they parted, to rebuke<br/> +Themselves, and aid the burning by their shame.<br/> +Our sinning was Hermaphrodite: but we,<br/> +Because the law of human kind we broke,<br/> +Following like beasts our vile concupiscence,<br/> +Hence parting from them, to our own disgrace<br/> +Record the name of her, by whom the beast<br/> +In bestial tire was acted. Now our deeds<br/> +Thou know’st, and how we sinn’d. If thou by name<br/> +Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now<br/> +To tell so much, nor can I. Of myself<br/> +Learn what thou wishest. Guinicelli I,<br/> +Who having truly sorrow’d ere my last,<br/> +Already cleanse me.” With such pious joy,<br/> +As the two sons upon their mother gaz’d<br/> +From sad Lycurgus rescu’d, such my joy<br/> +(Save that I more represt it) when I heard<br/> +From his own lips the name of him pronounc’d,<br/> +Who was a father to me, and to those<br/> +My betters, who have ever us’d the sweet<br/> +And pleasant rhymes of love. So nought I heard<br/> +Nor spake, but long time thoughtfully I went,<br/> +Gazing on him; and, only for the fire,<br/> +Approach’d not nearer. When my eyes were fed<br/> +By looking on him, with such solemn pledge,<br/> +As forces credence, I devoted me<br/> +Unto his service wholly. In reply<br/> +He thus bespake me: “What from thee I hear<br/> +Is grav’d so deeply on my mind, the waves<br/> +Of Lethe shall not wash it off, nor make<br/> +A whit less lively. But as now thy oath<br/> +Has seal’d the truth, declare what cause impels<br/> +That love, which both thy looks and speech bewray.” +</p> + +<p> +“Those dulcet lays,” I answer’d, “which, as long<br/> +As of our tongue the beauty does not fade,<br/> +Shall make us love the very ink that trac’d them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brother!” he cried, and pointed at a shade<br/> +Before him, “there is one, whose mother speech<br/> +Doth owe to him a fairer ornament.<br/> +He in love ditties and the tales of prose<br/> +Without a rival stands, and lets the fools<br/> +Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges<br/> +O’ertops him. Rumour and the popular voice<br/> +They look to more than truth, and so confirm<br/> +Opinion, ere by art or reason taught.<br/> +Thus many of the elder time cried up<br/> +Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth<br/> +By strength of numbers vanquish’d. If thou own<br/> +So ample privilege, as to have gain’d<br/> +Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ<br/> +Is Abbot of the college, say to him<br/> +One paternoster for me, far as needs<br/> +For dwellers in this world, where power to sin<br/> +No longer tempts us.” Haply to make way<br/> +For one, that follow’d next, when that was said,<br/> +He vanish’d through the fire, as through the wave<br/> +A fish, that glances diving to the deep. +</p> + +<p> +I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew<br/> +A little onward, and besought his name,<br/> +For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room.<br/> +He frankly thus began: “Thy courtesy<br/> +So wins on me, I have nor power nor will<br/> +To hide me. I am Arnault; and with songs,<br/> +Sorely lamenting for my folly past,<br/> +Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see<br/> +The day, I hope for, smiling in my view.<br/> +I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up<br/> +Unto the summit of the scale, in time<br/> +Remember ye my suff’rings.” With such words<br/> +He disappear’d in the refining flame. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXVII"></a>CANTO XXVII</h2> + +<p> +Now was the sun so station’d, as when first<br/> +His early radiance quivers on the heights,<br/> +Where stream’d his Maker’s blood, while Libra hangs<br/> +Above Hesperian Ebro, and new fires<br/> +Meridian flash on Ganges’ yellow tide. +</p> + +<p> +So day was sinking, when the’ angel of God<br/> +Appear’d before us. Joy was in his mien.<br/> +Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink,<br/> +And with a voice, whose lively clearness far<br/> +Surpass’d our human, “Blessed are the pure<br/> +In heart,” he Sang: then near him as we came,<br/> +“Go ye not further, holy spirits!” he cried,<br/> +“Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list<br/> +Attentive to the song ye hear from thence.” +</p> + +<p> +I, when I heard his saying, was as one<br/> +Laid in the grave. My hands together clasp’d,<br/> +And upward stretching, on the fire I look’d,<br/> +And busy fancy conjur’d up the forms<br/> +Erewhile beheld alive consum’d in flames. +</p> + +<p> +Th’ escorting spirits turn’d with gentle looks<br/> +Toward me, and the Mantuan spake: “My son,<br/> +Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death.<br/> +Remember thee, remember thee, if I<br/> +Safe e’en on Geryon brought thee: now I come<br/> +More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now?<br/> +Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame<br/> +A thousand years contain’d thee, from thy head<br/> +No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth,<br/> +Approach, and with thy hands thy vesture’s hem<br/> +Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief.<br/> +Lay now all fear, O lay all fear aside.<br/> +Turn hither, and come onward undismay’d.”<br/> +I still, though conscience urg’d’ no step advanc’d. +</p> + +<p> +When still he saw me fix’d and obstinate,<br/> +Somewhat disturb’d he cried: “Mark now, my son,<br/> +From Beatrice thou art by this wall<br/> +Divided.” As at Thisbe’s name the eye<br/> +Of Pyramus was open’d (when life ebb’d<br/> +Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance,<br/> +While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn’d<br/> +To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard<br/> +The name, that springs forever in my breast. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his forehead; and, “How long,” he said,<br/> +“Linger we now?” then smil’d, as one would smile<br/> +Upon a child, that eyes the fruit and yields.<br/> +Into the fire before me then he walk’d;<br/> +And Statius, who erewhile no little space<br/> +Had parted us, he pray’d to come behind. +</p> + +<p> +I would have cast me into molten glass<br/> +To cool me, when I enter’d; so intense<br/> +Rag’d the conflagrant mass. The sire belov’d,<br/> +To comfort me, as he proceeded, still<br/> +Of Beatrice talk’d. “Her eyes,” saith he,<br/> +“E’en now I seem to view.” From the other side<br/> +A voice, that sang, did guide us, and the voice<br/> +Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth,<br/> +There where the path led upward. “Come,” we heard,<br/> +“Come, blessed of my Father.” Such the sounds,<br/> +That hail’d us from within a light, which shone<br/> +So radiant, I could not endure the view.<br/> +“The sun,” it added, “hastes: and evening comes.<br/> +Delay not: ere the western sky is hung<br/> +With blackness, strive ye for the pass.” Our way<br/> +Upright within the rock arose, and fac’d<br/> +Such part of heav’n, that from before my steps<br/> +The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun. +</p> + +<p> +Nor many stairs were overpass, when now<br/> +By fading of the shadow we perceiv’d<br/> +The sun behind us couch’d: and ere one face<br/> +Of darkness o’er its measureless expanse<br/> +Involv’d th’ horizon, and the night her lot<br/> +Held individual, each of us had made<br/> +A stair his pallet: not that will, but power,<br/> +Had fail’d us, by the nature of that mount<br/> +Forbidden further travel. As the goats,<br/> +That late have skipp’d and wanton’d rapidly<br/> +Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta’en<br/> +Their supper on the herb, now silent lie<br/> +And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown,<br/> +While noonday rages; and the goatherd leans<br/> +Upon his staff, and leaning watches them:<br/> +And as the swain, that lodges out all night<br/> +In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey<br/> +Disperse them; even so all three abode,<br/> +I as a goat and as the shepherds they,<br/> +Close pent on either side by shelving rock. +</p> + +<p> +A little glimpse of sky was seen above;<br/> +Yet by that little I beheld the stars<br/> +In magnitude and rustle shining forth<br/> +With more than wonted glory. As I lay,<br/> +Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing,<br/> +Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft<br/> +Tidings of future hap. About the hour,<br/> +As I believe, when Venus from the east<br/> +First lighten’d on the mountain, she whose orb<br/> +Seems always glowing with the fire of love,<br/> +A lady young and beautiful, I dream’d,<br/> +Was passing o’er a lea; and, as she came,<br/> +Methought I saw her ever and anon<br/> +Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang:<br/> +“Know ye, whoever of my name would ask,<br/> +That I am Leah: for my brow to weave<br/> +A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply.<br/> +To please me at the crystal mirror, here<br/> +I deck me. But my sister Rachel, she<br/> +Before her glass abides the livelong day,<br/> +Her radiant eyes beholding, charm’d no less,<br/> +Than I with this delightful task. Her joy<br/> +In contemplation, as in labour mine.” +</p> + +<p> +And now as glimm’ring dawn appear’d, that breaks<br/> +More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he<br/> +Sojourns less distant on his homeward way,<br/> +Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled<br/> +My slumber; whence I rose and saw my guide<br/> +Already risen. “That delicious fruit,<br/> +Which through so many a branch the zealous care<br/> +Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day<br/> +Appease thy hunger.” Such the words I heard<br/> +From Virgil’s lip; and never greeting heard<br/> +So pleasant as the sounds. Within me straight<br/> +Desire so grew upon desire to mount,<br/> +Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings<br/> +Increasing for my flight. When we had run<br/> +O’er all the ladder to its topmost round,<br/> +As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix’d<br/> +His eyes, and thus he spake: “Both fires, my son,<br/> +The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen,<br/> +And art arriv’d, where of itself my ken<br/> +No further reaches. I with skill and art<br/> +Thus far have drawn thee. Now thy pleasure take<br/> +For guide. Thou hast o’ercome the steeper way,<br/> +O’ercome the straighter. Lo! the sun, that darts<br/> +His beam upon thy forehead! lo! the herb,<br/> +The arboreta and flowers, which of itself<br/> +This land pours forth profuse! Till those bright eyes<br/> +With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste<br/> +To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down,<br/> +Or wander where thou wilt. Expect no more<br/> +Sanction of warning voice or sign from me,<br/> +Free of thy own arbitrement to choose,<br/> +Discreet, judicious. To distrust thy sense<br/> +Were henceforth error. I invest thee then<br/> +With crown and mitre, sovereign o’er thyself.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXVIII"></a>CANTO XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade<br/> +With lively greenness the new-springing day<br/> +Attemper’d, eager now to roam, and search<br/> +Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank,<br/> +Along the champain leisurely my way<br/> +Pursuing, o’er the ground, that on all sides<br/> +Delicious odour breath’d. A pleasant air,<br/> +That intermitted never, never veer’d,<br/> +Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind<br/> +Of softest influence: at which the sprays,<br/> +Obedient all, lean’d trembling to that part<br/> +Where first the holy mountain casts his shade,<br/> +Yet were not so disorder’d, but that still<br/> +Upon their top the feather’d quiristers<br/> +Applied their wonted art, and with full joy<br/> +Welcom’d those hours of prime, and warbled shrill<br/> +Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays<br/> +inept tenor; even as from branch to branch,<br/> +Along the piney forests on the shore<br/> +Of Chiassi, rolls the gath’ring melody,<br/> +When Eolus hath from his cavern loos’d<br/> +The dripping south. Already had my steps,<br/> +Though slow, so far into that ancient wood<br/> +Transported me, I could not ken the place<br/> +Where I had enter’d, when behold! my path<br/> +Was bounded by a rill, which to the left<br/> +With little rippling waters bent the grass,<br/> +That issued from its brink. On earth no wave<br/> +How clean soe’er, that would not seem to have<br/> +Some mixture in itself, compar’d with this,<br/> +Transpicuous, clear; yet darkly on it roll’d,<br/> +Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne’er<br/> +Admits or sun or moon light there to shine. +</p> + +<p> +My feet advanc’d not; but my wond’ring eyes<br/> +Pass’d onward, o’er the streamlet, to survey<br/> +The tender May-bloom, flush’d through many a hue,<br/> +In prodigal variety: and there,<br/> +As object, rising suddenly to view,<br/> +That from our bosom every thought beside<br/> +With the rare marvel chases, I beheld<br/> +A lady all alone, who, singing, went,<br/> +And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way<br/> +Was all o’er painted. “Lady beautiful!<br/> +Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart,<br/> +Are worthy of our trust), with love’s own beam<br/> +Dost warm thee,” thus to her my speech I fram’d:<br/> +“Ah! please thee hither towards the streamlet bend<br/> +Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song.<br/> +Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks,<br/> +I call to mind where wander’d and how look’d<br/> +Proserpine, in that season, when her child<br/> +The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring.” +</p> + +<p> +As when a lady, turning in the dance,<br/> +Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce<br/> +One step before the other to the ground;<br/> +Over the yellow and vermilion flowers<br/> +Thus turn’d she at my suit, most maiden-like,<br/> +Valing her sober eyes, and came so near,<br/> +That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound.<br/> +Arriving where the limped waters now<br/> +Lav’d the green sward, her eyes she deign’d to raise,<br/> +That shot such splendour on me, as I ween<br/> +Ne’er glanced from Cytherea’s, when her son<br/> +Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart.<br/> +Upon the opposite bank she stood and smil’d<br/> +through her graceful fingers shifted still<br/> +The intermingling dyes, which without seed<br/> +That lofty land unbosoms. By the stream<br/> +Three paces only were we sunder’d: yet<br/> +The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass’d it o’er,<br/> +(A curb for ever to the pride of man)<br/> +Was by Leander not more hateful held<br/> +For floating, with inhospitable wave<br/> +’Twixt Sestus and Abydos, than by me<br/> +That flood, because it gave no passage thence. +</p> + +<p> +“Strangers ye come, and haply in this place,<br/> +That cradled human nature in its birth,<br/> +Wond’ring, ye not without suspicion view<br/> +My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody,<br/> +‘Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,’ will give ye light,<br/> +Which may uncloud your minds. And thou, who stand’st<br/> +The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me,<br/> +Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I<br/> +Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine.” +</p> + +<p> +She spake; and I replied: “l know not how<br/> +To reconcile this wave and rustling sound<br/> +Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard<br/> +Of opposite report.” She answering thus:<br/> +“I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds,<br/> +Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud<br/> +That hath enwraps thee. The First Good, whose joy<br/> +Is only in himself, created man<br/> +For happiness, and gave this goodly place,<br/> +His pledge and earnest of eternal peace.<br/> +Favour’d thus highly, through his own defect<br/> +He fell, and here made short sojourn; he fell,<br/> +And, for the bitterness of sorrow, chang’d<br/> +Laughter unblam’d and ever-new delight.<br/> +That vapours none, exhal’d from earth beneath,<br/> +Or from the waters (which, wherever heat<br/> +Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far<br/> +To vex man’s peaceful state, this mountain rose<br/> +So high toward the heav’n, nor fears the rage<br/> +0f elements contending, from that part<br/> +Exempted, where the gate his limit bars.<br/> +Because the circumambient air throughout<br/> +With its first impulse circles still, unless<br/> +Aught interpose to cheek or thwart its course;<br/> +Upon the summit, which on every side<br/> +To visitation of th’ impassive air<br/> +Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes<br/> +Beneath its sway th’ umbrageous wood resound:<br/> +And in the shaken plant such power resides,<br/> +That it impregnates with its efficacy<br/> +The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume<br/> +That wafted flies abroad; and th’ other land<br/> +Receiving (as ’tis worthy in itself,<br/> +Or in the clime, that warms it), doth conceive,<br/> +And from its womb produces many a tree<br/> +Of various virtue. This when thou hast heard,<br/> +The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth<br/> +Some plant without apparent seed be found<br/> +To fix its fibrous stem. And further learn,<br/> +That with prolific foison of all seeds,<br/> +This holy plain is fill’d, and in itself<br/> +Bears fruit that ne’er was pluck’d on other soil.<br/> +Â “The water, thou behold’st, springs not from vein,<br/> +As stream, that intermittently repairs<br/> +And spends his pulse of life, but issues forth<br/> +From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure;<br/> +And by the will omnific, full supply<br/> +Feeds whatsoe’er On either side it pours;<br/> +On this devolv’d with power to take away<br/> +Remembrance of offence, on that to bring<br/> +Remembrance back of every good deed done.<br/> +From whence its name of Lethe on this part;<br/> +On th’ other Eunoe: both of which must first<br/> +Be tasted ere it work; the last exceeding<br/> +All flavours else. Albeit thy thirst may now<br/> +Be well contented, if I here break off,<br/> +No more revealing: yet a corollary<br/> +I freely give beside: nor deem my words<br/> +Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass<br/> +The stretch of promise. They, whose verse of yore<br/> +The golden age recorded and its bliss,<br/> +On the Parnassian mountain, of this place<br/> +Perhaps had dream’d. Here was man guiltless, here<br/> +Perpetual spring and every fruit, and this<br/> +The far-fam’d nectar.” Turning to the bards,<br/> +When she had ceas’d, I noted in their looks<br/> +A smile at her conclusion; then my face<br/> +Again directed to the lovely dame. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXIX"></a>CANTO XXIX</h2> + +<p> +Singing, as if enamour’d, she resum’d<br/> +And clos’d the song, with “Blessed they whose sins<br/> +Are cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp’d<br/> +Singly across the sylvan shadows, one<br/> +Eager to view and one to ’scape the sun,<br/> +So mov’d she on, against the current, up<br/> +The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step<br/> +Observing, with as tardy step pursued. +</p> + +<p> +Between us not an hundred paces trod,<br/> +The bank, on each side bending equally,<br/> +Gave me to face the orient. Nor our way<br/> +Far onward brought us, when to me at once<br/> +She turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look and hearken.”<br/> +And lo! a sudden lustre ran across<br/> +Through the great forest on all parts, so bright<br/> +I doubted whether lightning were abroad;<br/> +But that expiring ever in the spleen,<br/> +That doth unfold it, and this during still<br/> +And waxing still in splendor, made me question<br/> +What it might be: and a sweet melody<br/> +Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide<br/> +With warrantable zeal the hardihood<br/> +Of our first parent, for that there were earth<br/> +Stood in obedience to the heav’ns, she only,<br/> +Woman, the creature of an hour, endur’d not<br/> +Restraint of any veil: which had she borne<br/> +Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these,<br/> +Had from the first, and long time since, been mine. +</p> + +<p> +While through that wilderness of primy sweets<br/> +That never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yet<br/> +Expectant of beatitude more high,<br/> +Before us, like a blazing fire, the air<br/> +Under the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song,<br/> +Distinct the sound of melody was heard. +</p> + +<p> +O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes<br/> +If e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold and watching,<br/> +Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.<br/> +Now through my breast let Helicon his stream<br/> +Pour copious; and Urania with her choir<br/> +Arise to aid me: while the verse unfolds<br/> +Things that do almost mock the grasp of thought. +</p> + +<p> +Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold,<br/> +The intervening distance to mine eye<br/> +Falsely presented; but when I was come<br/> +So near them, that no lineament was lost<br/> +Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen<br/> +Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,<br/> +Then did the faculty, that ministers<br/> +Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold<br/> +Distinguish, and it th’ singing trace the sound<br/> +“Hosanna.” Above, their beauteous garniture<br/> +Flam’d with more ample lustre, than the moon<br/> +Through cloudless sky at midnight in her full. +</p> + +<p> +I turn’d me full of wonder to my guide;<br/> +And he did answer with a countenance<br/> +Charg’d with no less amazement: whence my view<br/> +Reverted to those lofty things, which came<br/> +So slowly moving towards us, that the bride<br/> +Would have outstript them on her bridal day. +</p> + +<p> +The lady called aloud: “Why thus yet burns<br/> +Affection in thee for these living, lights,<br/> +And dost not look on that which follows them?” +</p> + +<p> +I straightway mark’d a tribe behind them walk,<br/> +As if attendant on their leaders, cloth’d<br/> +With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth<br/> +Was never. On my left, the wat’ry gleam<br/> +Borrow’d, and gave me back, when there I look’d.<br/> +As in a mirror, my left side portray’d. +</p> + +<p> +When I had chosen on the river’s edge<br/> +Such station, that the distance of the stream<br/> +Alone did separate me; there I stay’d<br/> +My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld<br/> +The flames go onward, leaving, as they went,<br/> +The air behind them painted as with trail<br/> +Of liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark’d<br/> +All those sev’n listed colours, whence the sun<br/> +Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.<br/> +These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond<br/> +My vision; and ten paces, as I guess,<br/> +Parted the outermost. Beneath a sky<br/> +So beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,<br/> +By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d.<br/> +All sang one song: “Blessed be thou among<br/> +The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness<br/> +Blessed for ever!” After that the flowers,<br/> +And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,<br/> +Were free from that elected race; as light<br/> +In heav’n doth second light, came after them<br/> +Four animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf.<br/> +With six wings each was plum’d, the plumage full<br/> +Of eyes, and th’ eyes of Argus would be such,<br/> +Were they endued with life. Reader, more rhymes<br/> +Will not waste in shadowing forth their form:<br/> +For other need no straitens, that in this<br/> +I may not give my bounty room. But read<br/> +Ezekiel; for he paints them, from the north<br/> +How he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood,<br/> +In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even such<br/> +As thou shalt find them character’d by him,<br/> +Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,<br/> +From him departing, John accords with me. +</p> + +<p> +The space, surrounded by the four, enclos’d<br/> +A car triumphal: on two wheels it came<br/> +Drawn at a Gryphon’s neck; and he above<br/> +Stretch’d either wing uplifted, ’tween the midst<br/> +And the three listed hues, on each side three;<br/> +So that the wings did cleave or injure none;<br/> +And out of sight they rose. The members, far<br/> +As he was bird, were golden; white the rest<br/> +With vermeil intervein’d. So beautiful<br/> +A car in Rome ne’er grac’d Augustus pomp,<br/> +Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itself<br/> +Were poor to this, that chariot of the sun<br/> +Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell<br/> +At Tellus’ pray’r devout, by the just doom<br/> +Mysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphs<br/> +,k the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;<br/> +The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce<br/> +Been known within a furnace of clear flame:<br/> +The next did look, as if the flesh and bones<br/> +Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem’d the third.<br/> +Now seem’d the white to lead, the ruddy now;<br/> +And from her song who led, the others took<br/> +Their treasure, swift or slow. At th’ other wheel,<br/> +A band quaternion, each in purple clad,<br/> +Advanc’d with festal step, as of them one<br/> +The rest conducted, one, upon whose front<br/> +Three eyes were seen. In rear of all this group,<br/> +Two old men I beheld, dissimilar<br/> +In raiment, but in port and gesture like,<br/> +Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one<br/> +Did show himself some favour’d counsellor<br/> +Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made<br/> +To serve the costliest creature of her tribe.<br/> +His fellow mark’d an opposite intent,<br/> +Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,<br/> +E’en as I view’d it with the flood between,<br/> +Appall’d me. Next four others I beheld,<br/> +Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,<br/> +One single old man, sleeping, as he came,<br/> +With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each<br/> +Like the first troop were habited, hut wore<br/> +No braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d.<br/> +Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,<br/> +A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,<br/> +That they were all on fire above their brow. +</p> + +<p> +Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight.<br/> +Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’d<br/> +The chosen multitude were stay’d; for there,<br/> +With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXX"></a>CANTO XXX</h2> + +<p> +Soon as the polar light, which never knows<br/> +Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil<br/> +Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament<br/> +Of the first heav’n, to duty each one there<br/> +Safely convoying, as that lower doth<br/> +The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix’d;<br/> +Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van<br/> +Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,<br/> +Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:<br/> +And one, as if commission’d from above,<br/> +In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud:<br/> +“Come, spouse, from Libanus!” and all the rest<br/> +Took up the song—At the last audit so<br/> +The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each<br/> +Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,<br/> +As, on the sacred litter, at the voice<br/> +Authoritative of that elder, sprang<br/> +A hundred ministers and messengers<br/> +Of life eternal. “Blessed thou! who com’st!”<br/> +And, “O,” they cried, “from full hands scatter ye<br/> +Unwith’ring lilies;” and, so saying, cast<br/> +Flowers over head and round them on all sides. +</p> + +<p> +I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,<br/> +The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky<br/> +Oppos’d, one deep and beautiful serene,<br/> +And the sun’s face so shaded, and with mists<br/> +Attemper’d at lids rising, that the eye<br/> +Long while endur’d the sight: thus in a cloud<br/> +Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,<br/> +And down, within and outside of the car,<br/> +Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath’d,<br/> +A virgin in my view appear’d, beneath<br/> +Green mantle, rob’d in hue of living flame:<br/> +And o’er my Spirit, that in former days<br/> +Within her presence had abode so long,<br/> +No shudd’ring terror crept. Mine eyes no more<br/> +Had knowledge of her; yet there mov’d from her<br/> +A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak’d,<br/> +The power of ancient love was strong within me. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner on my vision streaming, smote<br/> +The heav’nly influence, which years past, and e’en<br/> +In childhood, thrill’d me, than towards Virgil I<br/> +Turn’d me to leftward, panting, like a babe,<br/> +That flees for refuge to his mother’s breast,<br/> +If aught have terrified or work’d him woe:<br/> +And would have cried: “There is no dram of blood,<br/> +That doth not quiver in me. The old flame<br/> +Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:”<br/> +But Virgil had bereav’d us of himself,<br/> +Virgil, my best-lov’d father; Virgil, he<br/> +To whom I gave me up for safety: nor,<br/> +All, our prime mother lost, avail’d to save<br/> +My undew’d cheeks from blur of soiling tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay,<br/> +Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge<br/> +Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that.” +</p> + +<p> +As to the prow or stern, some admiral<br/> +Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,<br/> +When ’mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;<br/> +Thus on the left side of the car I saw,<br/> +(Turning me at the sound of mine own name,<br/> +Which here I am compell’d to register)<br/> +The virgin station’d, who before appeared<br/> +Veil’d in that festive shower angelical. +</p> + +<p> +Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes;<br/> +Though from her brow the veil descending, bound<br/> +With foliage of Minerva, suffer’d not<br/> +That I beheld her clearly; then with act<br/> +Full royal, still insulting o’er her thrall,<br/> +Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back<br/> +The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:<br/> +“Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am<br/> +Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign’d at last<br/> +Approach the mountain? knewest not, O man!<br/> +Thy happiness is whole?” Down fell mine eyes<br/> +On the clear fount, but there, myself espying,<br/> +Recoil’d, and sought the greensward: such a weight<br/> +Of shame was on my forehead. With a mien<br/> +Of that stern majesty, which doth surround<br/> +mother’s presence to her awe-struck child,<br/> +She look’d; a flavour of such bitterness<br/> +Was mingled in her pity. There her words<br/> +Brake off, and suddenly the angels sang:<br/> +“In thee, O gracious Lord, my hope hath been:”<br/> +But went no farther than, “Thou Lord, hast set<br/> +My feet in ample room.” As snow, that lies<br/> +Amidst the living rafters on the back<br/> +Of Italy congeal’d when drifted high<br/> +And closely pil’d by rough Sclavonian blasts,<br/> +Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls,<br/> +And straightway melting it distils away,<br/> +Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I,<br/> +Without a sigh or tear, or ever these<br/> +Did sing, that with the chiming of heav’n’s sphere,<br/> +Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain<br/> +Of dulcet symphony, express’d for me<br/> +Their soft compassion, more than could the words<br/> +“Virgin, why so consum’st him?” then the ice,<br/> +Congeal’d about my bosom, turn’d itself<br/> +To spirit and water, and with anguish forth<br/> +Gush’d through the lips and eyelids from the heart. +</p> + +<p> +Upon the chariot’s right edge still she stood,<br/> +Immovable, and thus address’d her words<br/> +To those bright semblances with pity touch’d:<br/> +“Ye in th’ eternal day your vigils keep,<br/> +So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth,<br/> +Conveys from you a single step in all<br/> +The goings on of life: thence with more heed<br/> +I shape mine answer, for his ear intended,<br/> +Who there stands weeping, that the sorrow now<br/> +May equal the transgression. Not alone<br/> +Through operation of the mighty orbs,<br/> +That mark each seed to some predestin’d aim,<br/> +As with aspect or fortunate or ill<br/> +The constellations meet, but through benign<br/> +Largess of heav’nly graces, which rain down<br/> +From such a height, as mocks our vision, this man<br/> +Was in the freshness of his being, such,<br/> +So gifted virtually, that in him<br/> +All better habits wond’rously had thriv’d.<br/> +The more of kindly strength is in the soil,<br/> +So much doth evil seed and lack of culture<br/> +Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness.<br/> +These looks sometime upheld him; for I show’d<br/> +My youthful eyes, and led him by their light<br/> +In upright walking. Soon as I had reach’d<br/> +The threshold of my second age, and chang’d<br/> +My mortal for immortal, then he left me,<br/> +And gave himself to others. When from flesh<br/> +To spirit I had risen, and increase<br/> +Of beauty and of virtue circled me,<br/> +I was less dear to him, and valued less.<br/> +His steps were turn’d into deceitful ways,<br/> +Following false images of good, that make<br/> +No promise perfect. Nor avail’d me aught<br/> +To sue for inspirations, with the which,<br/> +I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise,<br/> +Did call him back; of them so little reck’d him,<br/> +Such depth he fell, that all device was short<br/> +Of his preserving, save that he should view<br/> +The children of perdition. To this end<br/> +I visited the purlieus of the dead:<br/> +And one, who hath conducted him thus high,<br/> +Receiv’d my supplications urg’d with weeping.<br/> +It were a breaking of God’s high decree,<br/> +If Lethe should be past, and such food tasted<br/> +Without the cost of some repentant tear.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXXI"></a>CANTO XXXI</h2> + +<p> +“O Thou!” her words she thus without delay<br/> +Resuming, turn’d their point on me, to whom<br/> +They but with lateral edge seem’d harsh before,<br/> +‘Say thou, who stand’st beyond the holy stream,<br/> +If this be true. A charge so grievous needs<br/> +Thine own avowal.” On my faculty<br/> +Such strange amazement hung, the voice expir’d<br/> +Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth. +</p> + +<p> +A little space refraining, then she spake:<br/> +“What dost thou muse on? Answer me. The wave<br/> +On thy remembrances of evil yet<br/> +Hath done no injury.” A mingled sense<br/> +Of fear and of confusion, from my lips<br/> +Did such a “Yea “ produce, as needed help<br/> +Of vision to interpret. As when breaks<br/> +In act to be discharg’d, a cross-bow bent<br/> +Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o’erstretch’d,<br/> +The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark;<br/> +Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst<br/> +Beneath the heavy load, and thus my voice<br/> +Was slacken’d on its way. She straight began:<br/> +“When my desire invited thee to love<br/> +The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings,<br/> +What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain<br/> +Did meet thee, that thou so should’st quit the hope<br/> +Of further progress, or what bait of ease<br/> +Or promise of allurement led thee on<br/> +Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere should’st rather wait?” +</p> + +<p> +A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice<br/> +To answer, hardly to these sounds my lips<br/> +Gave utterance, wailing: “Thy fair looks withdrawn,<br/> +Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn’d<br/> +My steps aside.” She answering spake: “Hadst thou<br/> +Been silent, or denied what thou avow’st,<br/> +Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more: such eye<br/> +Observes it. But whene’er the sinner’s cheek<br/> +Breaks forth into the precious-streaming tears<br/> +Of self-accusing, in our court the wheel<br/> +Of justice doth run counter to the edge.<br/> +Howe’er that thou may’st profit by thy shame<br/> +For errors past, and that henceforth more strength<br/> +May arm thee, when thou hear’st the Siren-voice,<br/> +Lay thou aside the motive to this grief,<br/> +And lend attentive ear, while I unfold<br/> +How opposite a way my buried flesh<br/> +Should have impell’d thee. Never didst thou spy<br/> +In art or nature aught so passing sweet,<br/> +As were the limbs, that in their beauteous frame<br/> +Enclos’d me, and are scatter’d now in dust.<br/> +If sweetest thing thus fail’d thee with my death,<br/> +What, afterward, of mortal should thy wish<br/> +Have tempted? When thou first hadst felt the dart<br/> +Of perishable things, in my departing<br/> +For better realms, thy wing thou should’st have prun’d<br/> +To follow me, and never stoop’d again<br/> +To ’bide a second blow for a slight girl,<br/> +Or other gaud as transient and as vain.<br/> +The new and inexperienc’d bird awaits,<br/> +Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler’s aim;<br/> +But in the sight of one, whose plumes are full,<br/> +In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing’d.” +</p> + +<p> +I stood, as children silent and asham’d<br/> +Stand, list’ning, with their eyes upon the earth,<br/> +Acknowledging their fault and self-condemn’d.<br/> +And she resum’d: “If, but to hear thus pains thee,<br/> +Raise thou thy beard, and lo! what sight shall do!” +</p> + +<p> +With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm,<br/> +Rent from its fibers by a blast, that blows<br/> +From off the pole, or from Iarbas’ land,<br/> +Than I at her behest my visage rais’d:<br/> +And thus the face denoting by the beard,<br/> +I mark’d the secret sting her words convey’d. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner lifted I mine aspect up,<br/> +Than downward sunk that vision I beheld<br/> +Of goodly creatures vanish; and mine eyes<br/> +Yet unassur’d and wavering, bent their light<br/> +On Beatrice. Towards the animal,<br/> +Who joins two natures in one form, she turn’d,<br/> +And, even under shadow of her veil,<br/> +And parted by the verdant rill, that flow’d<br/> +Between, in loveliness appear’d as much<br/> +Her former self surpassing, as on earth<br/> +All others she surpass’d. Remorseful goads<br/> +Shot sudden through me. Each thing else, the more<br/> +Its love had late beguil’d me, now the more<br/> +I Was loathsome. On my heart so keenly smote<br/> +The bitter consciousness, that on the ground<br/> +O’erpower’d I fell: and what my state was then,<br/> +She knows who was the cause. When now my strength<br/> +Flow’d back, returning outward from the heart,<br/> +The lady, whom alone I first had seen,<br/> +I found above me. “Loose me not,” she cried:<br/> +“Loose not thy hold;” and lo! had dragg’d me high<br/> +As to my neck into the stream, while she,<br/> +Still as she drew me after, swept along,<br/> +Swift as a shuttle, bounding o’er the wave. +</p> + +<p> +The blessed shore approaching then was heard<br/> +So sweetly, “Tu asperges me,” that I<br/> +May not remember, much less tell the sound.<br/> +The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp’d<br/> +My temples, and immerg’d me, where ’twas fit<br/> +The wave should drench me: and thence raising up,<br/> +Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs<br/> +Presented me so lav’d, and with their arm<br/> +They each did cover me. “Here are we nymphs,<br/> +And in the heav’n are stars. Or ever earth<br/> +Was visited of Beatrice, we<br/> +Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her.<br/> +We to her eyes will lead thee; but the light<br/> +Of gladness that is in them, well to scan,<br/> +Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours,<br/> +Thy sight shall quicken.” Thus began their song;<br/> +And then they led me to the Gryphon’s breast,<br/> +While, turn’d toward us, Beatrice stood.<br/> +“Spare not thy vision. We have stationed thee<br/> +Before the emeralds, whence love erewhile<br/> +Hath drawn his weapons on thee. “As they spake,<br/> +A thousand fervent wishes riveted<br/> +Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood<br/> +Still fix’d toward the Gryphon motionless.<br/> +As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus<br/> +Within those orbs the twofold being, shone,<br/> +For ever varying, in one figure now<br/> +Reflected, now in other. Reader! muse<br/> +How wond’rous in my sight it seem’d to mark<br/> +A thing, albeit steadfast in itself,<br/> +Yet in its imag’d semblance mutable. +</p> + +<p> +Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul<br/> +Fed on the viand, whereof still desire<br/> +Grows with satiety, the other three<br/> +With gesture, that declar’d a loftier line,<br/> +Advanc’d: to their own carol on they came<br/> +Dancing in festive ring angelical. +</p> + +<p> +“Turn, Beatrice!” was their song: “O turn<br/> +Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one,<br/> +Who to behold thee many a wearisome pace<br/> +Hath measur’d. Gracious at our pray’r vouchsafe<br/> +Unveil to him thy cheeks: that he may mark<br/> +Thy second beauty, now conceal’d.” O splendour!<br/> +O sacred light eternal! who is he<br/> +So pale with musing in Pierian shades,<br/> +Or with that fount so lavishly imbued,<br/> +Whose spirit should not fail him in th’ essay<br/> +To represent thee such as thou didst seem,<br/> +When under cope of the still-chiming heaven<br/> +Thou gav’st to open air thy charms reveal’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXXII"></a>CANTO XXXII</h2> + +<p> +Mine eyes with such an eager coveting,<br/> +Were bent to rid them of their ten years’ thirst,<br/> +No other sense was waking: and e’en they<br/> +Were fenc’d on either side from heed of aught;<br/> +So tangled in its custom’d toils that smile<br/> +Of saintly brightness drew me to itself,<br/> +When forcibly toward the left my sight<br/> +The sacred virgins turn’d; for from their lips<br/> +I heard the warning sounds: “Too fix’d a gaze!” +</p> + +<p> +Awhile my vision labor’d; as when late<br/> +Upon the’ o’erstrained eyes the sun hath smote:<br/> +But soon to lesser object, as the view<br/> +Was now recover’d (lesser in respect<br/> +To that excess of sensible, whence late<br/> +I had perforce been sunder’d) on their right<br/> +I mark’d that glorious army wheel, and turn,<br/> +Against the sun and sev’nfold lights, their front.<br/> +As when, their bucklers for protection rais’d,<br/> +A well-rang’d troop, with portly banners curl’d,<br/> +Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground:<br/> +E’en thus the goodly regiment of heav’n<br/> +Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car<br/> +Had slop’d his beam. Attendant at the wheels<br/> +The damsels turn’d; and on the Gryphon mov’d<br/> +The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth,<br/> +No feather on him trembled. The fair dame<br/> +Who through the wave had drawn me, companied<br/> +By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel,<br/> +Whose orbit, rolling, mark’d a lesser arch. +</p> + +<p> +Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame,<br/> +Who by the serpent was beguil’d) I past<br/> +With step in cadence to the harmony<br/> +Angelic. Onward had we mov’d, as far<br/> +Perchance as arrow at three several flights<br/> +Full wing’d had sped, when from her station down<br/> +Descended Beatrice. With one voice<br/> +All murmur’d “Adam,” circling next a plant<br/> +Despoil’d of flowers and leaf on every bough.<br/> +Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose,<br/> +Were such, as ’midst their forest wilds for height<br/> +The Indians might have gaz’d at. “Blessed thou!<br/> +Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluck’d that tree<br/> +Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite<br/> +Was warp’d to evil.” Round the stately trunk<br/> +Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return’d<br/> +The animal twice-gender’d: “Yea: for so<br/> +The generation of the just are sav’d.”<br/> +And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot<br/> +He drew it of the widow’d branch, and bound<br/> +There left unto the stock whereon it grew. +</p> + +<p> +As when large floods of radiance from above<br/> +Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends<br/> +Next after setting of the scaly sign,<br/> +Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew<br/> +His wonted colours, ere the sun have yok’d<br/> +Beneath another star his flamy steeds;<br/> +Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose,<br/> +And deeper than the violet, was renew’d<br/> +The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare. +</p> + +<p> +Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose.<br/> +I understood it not, nor to the end<br/> +Endur’d the harmony. Had I the skill<br/> +To pencil forth, how clos’d th’ unpitying eyes<br/> +Slumb’ring, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid<br/> +So dearly for their watching,) then like painter,<br/> +That with a model paints, I might design<br/> +The manner of my falling into sleep.<br/> +But feign who will the slumber cunningly;<br/> +I pass it by to when I wak’d, and tell<br/> +How suddenly a flash of splendour rent<br/> +The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out:<br/> +“Arise, what dost thou?” As the chosen three,<br/> +On Tabor’s mount, admitted to behold<br/> +The blossoming of that fair tree, whose fruit<br/> +Is coveted of angels, and doth make<br/> +Perpetual feast in heaven, to themselves<br/> +Returning at the word, whence deeper sleeps<br/> +Were broken, that they their tribe diminish’d saw,<br/> +Both Moses and Elias gone, and chang’d<br/> +The stole their master wore: thus to myself<br/> +Returning, over me beheld I stand<br/> +The piteous one, who cross the stream had brought<br/> +My steps. “And where,” all doubting, I exclaim’d,<br/> +“Is Beatrice?”—“See her,” she replied,<br/> +“Beneath the fresh leaf seated on its root.<br/> +Behold th’ associate choir that circles her.<br/> +The others, with a melody more sweet<br/> +And more profound, journeying to higher realms,<br/> +Upon the Gryphon tend.” If there her words<br/> +Were clos’d, I know not; but mine eyes had now<br/> +Ta’en view of her, by whom all other thoughts<br/> +Were barr’d admittance. On the very ground<br/> +Alone she sat, as she had there been left<br/> +A guard upon the wain, which I beheld<br/> +Bound to the twyform beast. The seven nymphs<br/> +Did make themselves a cloister round about her,<br/> +And in their hands upheld those lights secure<br/> +From blast septentrion and the gusty south. +</p> + +<p> +“A little while thou shalt be forester here:<br/> +And citizen shalt be forever with me,<br/> +Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman<br/> +To profit the misguided world, keep now<br/> +Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest,<br/> +Take heed thou write, returning to that place.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclin’d<br/> +Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes,<br/> +I, as she bade, directed. Never fire,<br/> +With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud<br/> +Leap’d downward from the welkin’s farthest bound,<br/> +As I beheld the bird of Jove descending<br/> +Pounce on the tree, and, as he rush’d, the rind,<br/> +Disparting crush beneath him, buds much more<br/> +And leaflets. On the car with all his might<br/> +He struck, whence, staggering like a ship, it reel’d,<br/> +At random driv’n, to starboard now, o’ercome,<br/> +And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves. +</p> + +<p> +Next springing up into the chariot’s womb<br/> +A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pin’d<br/> +Of all good food. But, for his ugly sins<br/> +The saintly maid rebuking him, away<br/> +Scamp’ring he turn’d, fast as his hide-bound corpse<br/> +Would bear him. Next, from whence before he came,<br/> +I saw the eagle dart into the hull<br/> +O’ th’ car, and leave it with his feathers lin’d;<br/> +And then a voice, like that which issues forth<br/> +From heart with sorrow riv’d, did issue forth<br/> +From heav’n, and, “O poor bark of mine!” it cried,<br/> +“How badly art thou freighted!” Then, it seem’d,<br/> +That the earth open’d between either wheel,<br/> +And I beheld a dragon issue thence,<br/> +That through the chariot fix’d his forked train;<br/> +And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting,<br/> +So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg’d<br/> +Part of the bottom forth, and went his way<br/> +Exulting. What remain’d, as lively turf<br/> +With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes,<br/> +Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind<br/> +Been offer’d; and therewith were cloth’d the wheels,<br/> +Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly<br/> +A sigh were not breath’d sooner. Thus transform’d,<br/> +The holy structure, through its several parts,<br/> +Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one<br/> +On every side; the first like oxen horn’d,<br/> +But with a single horn upon their front<br/> +The four. Like monster sight hath never seen.<br/> +O’er it methought there sat, secure as rock<br/> +On mountain’s lofty top, a shameless whore,<br/> +Whose ken rov’d loosely round her. At her side,<br/> +As ’twere that none might bear her off, I saw<br/> +A giant stand; and ever, and anon<br/> +They mingled kisses. But, her lustful eyes<br/> +Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion<br/> +Scourg’d her from head to foot all o’er; then full<br/> +Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloos’d<br/> +The monster, and dragg’d on, so far across<br/> +The forest, that from me its shades alone<br/> +Shielded the harlot and the new-form’d brute. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoII.XXXIII"></a>CANTO XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +“The heathen, Lord! are come!” responsive thus,<br/> +The trinal now, and now the virgin band<br/> +Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began,<br/> +Weeping; and Beatrice listen’d, sad<br/> +And sighing, to the song’, in such a mood,<br/> +That Mary, as she stood beside the cross,<br/> +Was scarce more chang’d. But when they gave her place<br/> +To speak, then, risen upright on her feet,<br/> +She, with a colour glowing bright as fire,<br/> +Did answer: “Yet a little while, and ye<br/> +Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters,<br/> +Again a little while, and ye shall see me.” +</p> + +<p> +Before her then she marshall’d all the seven,<br/> +And, beck’ning only motion’d me, the dame,<br/> +And that remaining sage, to follow her. +</p> + +<p> +So on she pass’d; and had not set, I ween,<br/> +Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes<br/> +Her eyes encounter’d; and, with visage mild,<br/> +“So mend thy pace,” she cried, “that if my words<br/> +Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly plac’d<br/> +To hear them.” Soon as duly to her side<br/> +I now had hasten’d: “Brother!” she began,<br/> +“Why mak’st thou no attempt at questioning,<br/> +As thus we walk together?” Like to those<br/> +Who, speaking with too reverent an awe<br/> +Before their betters, draw not forth the voice<br/> +Alive unto their lips, befell me shell<br/> +That I in sounds imperfect thus began:<br/> +“Lady! what I have need of, that thou know’st,<br/> +And what will suit my need.” She answering thus:<br/> +“Of fearfulness and shame, I will, that thou<br/> +Henceforth do rid thee: that thou speak no more,<br/> +As one who dreams. Thus far be taught of me:<br/> +The vessel, which thou saw’st the serpent break,<br/> +Was and is not: let him, who hath the blame,<br/> +Hope not to scare God’s vengeance with a sop.<br/> +Without an heir for ever shall not be<br/> +That eagle, he, who left the chariot plum’d,<br/> +Which monster made it first and next a prey.<br/> +Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars<br/> +E’en now approaching, whose conjunction, free<br/> +From all impediment and bar, brings on<br/> +A season, in the which, one sent from God,<br/> +(Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out)<br/> +That foul one, and th’ accomplice of her guilt,<br/> +The giant, both shall slay. And if perchance<br/> +My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx,<br/> +Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils<br/> +The intellect with blindness) yet ere long<br/> +Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve<br/> +This knotty riddle, and no damage light<br/> +On flock or field. Take heed; and as these words<br/> +By me are utter’d, teach them even so<br/> +To those who live that life, which is a race<br/> +To death: and when thou writ’st them, keep in mind<br/> +Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant,<br/> +That twice hath now been spoil’d. This whoso robs,<br/> +This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed<br/> +Sins against God, who for his use alone<br/> +Creating hallow’d it. For taste of this,<br/> +In pain and in desire, five thousand years<br/> +And upward, the first soul did yearn for him,<br/> +Who punish’d in himself the fatal gust. +</p> + +<p> +“Thy reason slumbers, if it deem this height<br/> +And summit thus inverted of the plant,<br/> +Without due cause: and were not vainer thoughts,<br/> +As Elsa’s numbing waters, to thy soul,<br/> +And their fond pleasures had not dyed it dark<br/> +As Pyramus the mulberry, thou hadst seen,<br/> +In such momentous circumstance alone,<br/> +God’s equal justice morally implied<br/> +In the forbidden tree. But since I mark thee<br/> +In understanding harden’d into stone,<br/> +And, to that hardness, spotted too and stain’d,<br/> +So that thine eye is dazzled at my word,<br/> +I will, that, if not written, yet at least<br/> +Painted thou take it in thee, for the cause,<br/> +That one brings home his staff inwreath’d with palm. +</p> + +<p> +“I thus: “As wax by seal, that changeth not<br/> +Its impress, now is stamp’d my brain by thee.<br/> +But wherefore soars thy wish’d-for speech so high<br/> +Beyond my sight, that loses it the more,<br/> +The more it strains to reach it?”—“To the end<br/> +That thou mayst know,” she answer’d straight, “the +school,<br/> +That thou hast follow’d; and how far behind,<br/> +When following my discourse, its learning halts:<br/> +And mayst behold your art, from the divine<br/> +As distant, as the disagreement is<br/> +’Twixt earth and heaven’s most high and rapturous orb.” +</p> + +<p> +“I not remember,” I replied, “that e’er<br/> +I was estrang’d from thee, nor for such fault<br/> +Doth conscience chide me.” Smiling she return’d:<br/> +“If thou canst, not remember, call to mind<br/> +How lately thou hast drunk of Lethe’s wave;<br/> +And, sure as smoke doth indicate a flame,<br/> +In that forgetfulness itself conclude<br/> +Blame from thy alienated will incurr’d.<br/> +From henceforth verily my words shall be<br/> +As naked as will suit them to appear<br/> +In thy unpractis’d view.” More sparkling now,<br/> +And with retarded course the sun possess’d<br/> +The circle of mid-day, that varies still<br/> +As th’ aspect varies of each several clime,<br/> +When, as one, sent in vaward of a troop<br/> +For escort, pauses, if perchance he spy<br/> +Vestige of somewhat strange and rare: so paus’d<br/> +The sev’nfold band, arriving at the verge<br/> +Of a dun umbrage hoar, such as is seen,<br/> +Beneath green leaves and gloomy branches, oft<br/> +To overbrow a bleak and alpine cliff.<br/> +And, where they stood, before them, as it seem’d,<br/> +Tigris and Euphrates both beheld,<br/> +Forth from one fountain issue; and, like friends,<br/> +Linger at parting. “O enlight’ning beam!<br/> +O glory of our kind! beseech thee say<br/> +What water this, which from one source deriv’d<br/> +Itself removes to distance from itself?” +</p> + +<p> +To such entreaty answer thus was made:<br/> +“Entreat Matilda, that she teach thee this.” +</p> + +<p> +And here, as one, who clears himself of blame<br/> +Imputed, the fair dame return’d: “Of me<br/> +He this and more hath learnt; and I am safe<br/> +That Lethe’s water hath not hid it from him.” +</p> + +<p> +And Beatrice: “Some more pressing care<br/> +That oft the memory ’reeves, perchance hath made<br/> +His mind’s eye dark. But lo! where Eunoe cows!<br/> +Lead thither; and, as thou art wont, revive<br/> +His fainting virtue.” As a courteous spirit,<br/> +That proffers no excuses, but as soon<br/> +As he hath token of another’s will,<br/> +Makes it his own; when she had ta’en me, thus<br/> +The lovely maiden mov’d her on, and call’d<br/> +To Statius with an air most lady-like:<br/> +“Come thou with him.” Were further space allow’d,<br/> +Then, Reader, might I sing, though but in part,<br/> +That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne’er<br/> +Been sated. But, since all the leaves are full,<br/> +Appointed for this second strain, mine art<br/> +With warning bridle checks me. I return’d<br/> +From the most holy wave, regenerate,<br/> +If ’en as new plants renew’d with foliage new,<br/> +Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="notes02"></a>NOTES TO PURGATORY</h2> + +<h5>CANTO I</h5> + +<p> +Verse 1. O’er better waves.] Berni, Orl. Inn. L 2. c. i.<br/> +Per correr maggior acqua alza le vele,<br/> +O debil navicella del mio ingegno. +</p> + +<p> +v. 11. Birds of chattering note.] For the fable of the daughters of Pierus, who +challenged the muses to sing, and were by them changed into magpies, see Ovid, +Met. 1. v. fab. 5. +</p> + +<p> +v. 19. Planet.] Venus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. Made all the orient laugh.] Hence Chaucer, Knight’s Tale: And all +the orisont laugheth of the sight. +</p> + +<p> +It is sometimes read “orient.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 24. Four stars.] Symbolical of the four cardinal virtues, Prudence Justice, +Fortitude, and Temperance. See Canto XXXI v. 105. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. The wain.] Charles’s wain, or Bootes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. An old man.] Cato. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. Venerable plumes.] The same metaphor has occurred in Hell Canto XX. v. +41: +</p> + +<p> +—the plumes, That mark’d the better sex. +</p> + +<p> +It is used by Ford in the Lady’s Trial, a. 4. s. 2. +</p> + +<p> +Now the down<br/> +Of softness is exchang’d for plumes of age. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. The farthest gloom.] L’ultima sera. Ariosto, Oroando Furioso c. +xxxiv st. 59: Che non hen visto ancor l’ultima sera. +</p> + +<p> +And Filicaja, c. ix. Al Sonno.<br/> +L’ultima sera. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Marcia.]<br/> +Da fredera prisci<br/> +Illibata tori: da tantum nomen inane<br/> +Connubil: liceat tumulo scripsisse, Catonis<br/> +Martia<br/> +Lucan, Phars. 1. ii. 344. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream.] Connubil il tremolar +della marina. +</p> + +<p> +Trissino, in the Sofonisba.]<br/> +E resta in tremolar l’onda marina +</p> + +<p> +And Fortiguerra, Rleelardetto, c. ix. st. 17. —visto il tremolar della +marine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. another.] From Virg, Aen. 1. vi. 143. Primo avulso non deficit alter +</p> + +<h5>CANTO II</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Now had the sun.] Dante was now antipodal to Jerusalem, so that while the +sun was setting with respect to that place which he supposes to be the middle +of the inhabited earth, to him it was rising. +</p> + +<p> +v. 6. The scales.] The constellation Libra. +</p> + +<p> +v. 35. Winnowing the air.] Trattando l’acre con l’eterne penne. +</p> + +<p> +80 Filicaja, canz. viii. st. 11. Ma trattar l’acre coll’ eterne +plume +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. In exitu.] “When Israel came out of Egypt.” Ps. cxiv. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. Thrice my hands.]<br/> +Ter conatus ibi eollo dare brachia eircum,<br/> +Ter frustra eomprensa manus effugit imago,<br/> +Par levibus ventis voluerique simillima sommo.<br/> +Virg. Aen. ii. 794. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Homer, Od. xl. 205. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. My Casella.] A Florentine, celebrated for his skill in music, “in +whose company,” says Landine, “Dante often recreated his spirits +wearied by severe studies.” See Dr. Burney’s History of Music, vol. +ii. c. iv. p. 322. Milton has a fine allusion to this meeting in his sonnet to +Henry Lawes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. Hath so much time been lost.] Casella had been dead some years but was +only just arrived. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. He.] The eonducting angel. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. These three months past.] Since the time of the Jubilee, during which +all spirits not condemned to eternal punishment, were supposed to pass over to +Purgatory as soon as they pleased. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. The shore.] Ostia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 170. “Love that discourses in my thoughts.”] “Amor che +nella mente mi ragiona.” The first verse of a eanzone or song in the +Convito of Dante, which he again cites in his Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. 1. ii. c. +vi. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO III</h5> + +<p> +v. 9. How doth a little failing wound thee sore.] (Ch’era al cor picciol +fallo amaro morso. Tasso, G. L. c. x. st. 59. +</p> + +<p> +v. 11. Haste, that mars all decency of act. Aristotle in his Physiog iii. +reekons it among the “the signs of an impudent man,” that he is +“quick in his motions.” Compare Sophoeles, Electra, 878. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. To Naples.] Virgil died at Brundusium, from whence his body is said to +have been removed to Naples. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. Desiring fruitlessly.] See H. Canto IV, 39. +</p> + +<p> +v. 49. ’Twixt Lerice and Turbia.] At that time the two extremities of the +Genoese republic, the former on the east, the latter on the west. A very +ingenious writer has had occasion, for a different purpose, to mention one of +these places as remarkably secluded by its mountainous situation “On an +eminence among the mountains, between the two little cities, Nice and Manoca, +is the village of Torbia, a name formed from the Greek [GREEK HERE] Mitford on +the Harmony of Language, sect. x. p. 351. 2d edit. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. As sheep.] The imitative nature of these animals supplies our Poet with +another comparison in his Convito Opere, t. i. p 34. Ediz. Ven. 1793. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Manfredi. King of Naples and Sicily, and the natural son of Frederick +II. He was lively end agreeable in his manners, and delighted in poetry, music, +and dancing. But he was luxurious and ambitious. Void of religion, and in his +philosophy an Epicurean. See G. Villani l. vi. c. xlvii. and Mr. +Matthias’s Tiraboschi, v. I. p. 38. He fell in the battle with Charles of +Anjou in 1265, alluded to in Canto XXVIII, of Hell, v. 13, “Dying, +excommunicated, King Charles did allow of his being buried in sacred ground, +but he was interred near the bridge of Benevento, and on his grave there was +cast a stone by every one of the army whence there was formed a great mound of +stones. But some ave said, that afterwards, by command of the Pope. the Bishop +of Cosenza took up his body and sent it out of the kingdom, because it was the +land of the church, and that it was buried by the river Verde, on the borders +of the kingdom and of Carapagna. this, however, we do not affirm.” G. +Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Costanza.] See Paradise Canto III. v. 121. +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. My fair daughter.] Costanza, the daughter of Manfredi, and wife of +Peter III. King of Arragon, by whom she was mother to Frederick, King of Sicily +and James, King of Arragon With the latter of these she was at Rome 1296. See +G. Villani, 1. viii. c. 18. and notes to Canto VII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. Clement.] Pope Clement IV. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. The stream of Verde.] A river near Ascoli, that falls into he Toronto. +The “xtinguished lights “ formed part of the ceremony t the +interment of one excommunicated. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Hope.] Mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde. Tasso, G. L. c. xix. +st. 53. —infin che verde e fior di speme. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IV</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. When.] It must be owned the beginning of this Canto is somewhat obscure. +Bellutello refers, for an elucidation of it, to the reasoning of Statius in the +twenty-fifth canto. Perhaps some illustration may be derived from the +following, passage in South’s Sermons, in which I have ventured to supply +the words between crotchets that seemed to be wanting to complete the sense. +Now whether these three, judgement memory, and invention, are three distinct +things, both in being distinguished from one another, and likewise from the +substance of the soul itself, considered without any such faculties, (or +whether the soul be one individual substance) but only receiving these several +denominations rom the several respects arising from the several actions exerted +immediately by itself upon several objects, or several qualities of the same +object, I say whether of these it is, is not easy to decide, and it is well +that it is not necessary Aquinas, and most with him, affirm the former, and +Scotus with his followers the latter.” Vol. iv. Serm. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. Sanleo.] A fortress on the summit of Montefeltro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 24. Noli.] In the Genoese territory, between Finale and Savona. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. Bismantua.] A steep mountain in the territory of Reggio. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. From the left.] Vellutello observes an imitation of Lucan in this +passage: +</p> + +<p> +Ignotum vobis, Arabes, venistis in orbem,<br/> +Umbras mirati nemornm non ire sinistras.<br/> +Phars. s. 1. iii. 248 +</p> + +<p> +v. 69 Thou wilt see.] “If you consider that this mountain of Purgatory +and that of Sion are antipodal to each other, you will perceive that the sun +must rise on opposite sides of the respective eminences.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Belacqua.] Concerning this man, the commentators afford no information. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO V</h5> + +<p> +v. 14. Be as a tower.] Sta ome torre ferma +</p> + +<p> +Berni, Orl. Inn. 1. 1. c. xvi. st. 48:<br/> +In quei due piedi sta fermo il gigante<br/> +Com’ una torre in mezzo d’un castello. +</p> + +<p> +And Milton, P. L. b. i. 591.<br/> +Stood like a tower. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. Ne’er saw I fiery vapours.] Imitated by Tasso, G. L, c.<br/> +xix t. 62:<br/> +Tal suol fendendo liquido sereno<br/> +Stella cader della gran madre in seno. +</p> + +<p> +And by Milton, P. L. b. iv. 558:<br/> +Swift as a shooting star<br/> +In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir’d<br/> +Impress the air. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. That land.] The Marca d’Ancona, between Romagna and Apulia, the +kingdom of Charles of Anjou. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. From thence I came.] Giacopo del Cassero, a citizen of Fano who having +spoken ill of Azzo da Este, Marquis of Ferrara, was by his orders put to death. +Giacopo, was overtaken by the assassins at Oriaco a place near the Brenta, from +whence, if he had fled towards Mira, higher up on that river, instead of making +for the marsh on the sea shore, he might have escaped. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. Antenor’s land.] The city of Padua, said to be founded by Antenor. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. Of Montefeltro I.] Buonconte (son of Guido da Montefeltro, whom we have +had in the twenty-seventh Canto of Hell) fell in the battle of Campaldino +(1289), fighting on the side of the Aretini. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. Giovanna.] Either the wife, or kinswoman, of Buonconte. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. The hermit’s seat.] The hermitage of Camaldoli. +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. Where its name is cancel’d.] That is, between Bibbiena and Poppi, +where the Archiano falls into the Arno. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. From Pratomagno to the mountain range.] From Pratomagno now called +Prato Vecchio (which divides the Valdarno from Casentino) as far as to the +Apennine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Pia.] She is said to have been a Siennese lady, of the family of +Tolommei, secretly made away with by her husband, Nello della Pietra, of the +same city, in Maremma, where he had some possessions. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VI</h5> + +<p> +v. 14. Of Arezzo him.] Benincasa of Arezzo, eminent for his skill in +jurisprudence, who, having condemned to death Turrino da Turrita brother of +Ghino di Tacco, for his robberies in Maremma, was murdered by Ghino, in an +apartment of his own house, in the presence of many witnesses. Ghino was not +only suffered to escape in safety, but (as the commentators inform us) obtained +so high a reputation by the liberality with which he was accustomed to dispense +the fruits of his plunder, and treated those who fell into his hands with so +much courtesy, that he was afterwards invited to Rome, and knighted by Boniface +VIII. A story is told of him by Boccaccio, G. x. N. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Him beside.] Ciacco de’ Tariatti of Arezzo. He is said to have +been carried by his horse into the Arno, and there drowned, while he was in +pursuit of certain of his enemies. +</p> + +<p> +v. 17. Frederic Novello.] Son of the Conte Guido da Battifolle, and slain by +one of the family of Bostoli. +</p> + +<p> +v. 18. Of Pisa he.] Farinata de’ Scornigiani of Pisa. His father Marzuco, +who had entered the order of the Frati Minori, so entirely overcame the +feelings of resentment, that he even kissed the hands of the slayer of his son, +and, as he was following the funeral, exhorted his kinsmen to reconciliation. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. Count 0rso.] Son of Napoleone da Cerbaia, slain by Alberto da Mangona, +his uncle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. Peter de la Brosse.] Secretary of Philip III of France. The courtiers, +envying the high place which he held in the king’s favour, prevailed on +Mary of Brabant to charge him falsely with an attempt upon her person for which +supposed crime he suffered death. So say the Italian commentators. Henault +represents the matter very differently: “Pierre de la Brosse, formerly +barber to St. Louis, afterwards the favorite of Philip, fearing the too great +attachment of the king for his wife Mary, accuses this princess of having +poisoned Louis, eldest son of Philip, by his first marriage. This calumny is +discovered by a nun of Nivelle in Flanders. La Brosse is hung.” Abrege +Chron. t. 275, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. In thy text.] He refers to Virgil, Aen. 1, vi. 376.<br/> +Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando, 37. The sacred height<br/> +Of judgment. Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, a. ii. s. 2.<br/> +If he, which is the top of judgment +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. Eyeing us as a lion on his watch.] A guisa di Leon quando si posa. A +line taken by Tasso, G. L. c. x. st. 56. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Sordello.] The history of Sordello’s life is wrapt in the +obscurity of romance. That he distinguished himself by his skill in Provencal +poetry is certain. It is probable that he was born towards the end of the +twelfth, and died about the middle of the succeeding century. Tiraboschi has +taken much pains to sift all the notices he could collect relating to him. +Honourable mention of his name is made by our Poet in the Treatise de Vulg. +Eloq. 1. i. c. 15. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Thou inn of grief.]<br/> +Thou most beauteous inn<br/> +Why should hard-favour’d grief be lodg’d in thee?<br/> +Shakespeare, Richard II a. 5. s. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. Justinian’s hand.] “What avails it that Justinian delivered +thee from the Goths, and reformed thy laws, if thou art no longer under the +control of his successors in the empire?” +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. That which God commands.] He alludes to the precept- “Render unto +Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. O German Albert!] The Emperor Albert I. succeeded Adolphus in 1298, and +was murdered in 1308. See Par Canto XIX 114 v. 103. Thy successor.] The +successor of Albert was Henry of Luxembourg, by whose interposition in the +affairs of Italy our Poet hoped to have been reinstated in his native city. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Thy sire.] The Emperor Rodolph, too intent on increasing his power in +Germany to give much of his thoughts to Italy, “the garden of the +empire.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Capulets and Montagues.] Our ears are so familiarized to the names of +these rival families in the language of Shakespeare, that I have used them +instead of the “Montecchi” and “Cappelletti.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 108. Philippeschi and Monaldi.] Two other rival families in Orvieto. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. What safety, Santafiore can supply.] A place between Pisa and Sienna. +What he alludes to is so doubtful, that it is not certain whether we should not +read “come si cura”—” How Santafiore is +governed.” Perhaps the event related in the note to v. 58, Canto XI. may +be pointed at. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Marcellus.]<br/> +Un Marcel diventa<br/> +Ogni villan che parteggiando viene.<br/> +Repeated by Alamanni in his Coltivazione, 1. i. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. I sick wretch.] Imitated by the Cardinal de Polignac in his +Anti-Lucretius, 1. i. 1052. +</p> + +<p> +Ceu lectum peragrat membris languentibus aeger<br/> +In latus alterne faevum dextrumque recumbens<br/> +Nec javat: inde oculos tollit resupinus in altum:<br/> +Nusquam inventa quies; semper quaesita: quod illi<br/> +Primum in deliciis fuerat, mox torquet et angit:<br/> +Nec morburm sanat, nec fallit taedia morbi. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VII</h5> + +<p> +v. 14. Where one of mean estate might clasp his lord.] Ariosto Orl. F. c. xxiv. +st. 19 +</p> + +<p> +E l’abbracciaro, ove il maggior s’abbraccia<br/> +Col capo nudo e col ginocchio chino. +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. The three holy virtues.] Faith, Hope and Charity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. The red.] Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. Fresh emeralds.]<br/> +Under foot the violet,<br/> +Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay<br/> +Broider’d the ground, more colour’d than with stone<br/> +Of costliest emblem.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. iv. 793 +</p> + +<p> +Compare Ariosto, Orl. F. c. xxxiv. st. 49. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Salve Regina.] The beginning of a prayer to the Virgin. It is sufficient +here to observe, that in similar instances I shall either preserve the original +Latin words or translate them, as it may seem best to suit the purpose of the +verse. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. The Emperor Rodolph.] See the last Canto, v. 104. He died in 1291. +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. That country.] Bohemia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Ottocar.] King of Bohemia, was killed in the battle of Marchfield, +fought with Rodolph, August 26, 1278. Winceslaus II. His son,who succeeded him +in the kingdom of Bohemia. died in 1305. He is again taxed with luxury in the +Paradise Canto XIX. 123. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. That one with the nose deprest. ] Philip III of France, who died in +1285, at Perpignan, in his retreat from Arragon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. Him of gentle look.] Henry of Naverre, father of Jane married to Philip +IV of France, whom Dante calls “mal di Francia” +-“Gallia’s bane.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. He so robust of limb.] Peter III called the Great, King of Arragon, who +died in 1285, leaving four sons, Alonzo, James, Frederick and Peter. The two +former succeeded him in the kingdom of Arragon, and Frederick in that of +Sicily. See G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 102. and Mariana, I. xiv. c. 9. He is +enumerated among the Provencal poets by Millot, Hist. Litt. Des Troubadours, t. +iii. p. 150. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Him of feature prominent.] “Dal maschio naso”-with the +masculine nose.” Charles I. King of Naples, Count of Anjou, and brother +of St. Lonis. He died in 1284. The annalist of Florence remarks, that +“there had been no sovereign of the house of France, since the time of +Charlemagne, by whom Charles was surpassed either in military renown, and +prowess, or in the loftiness of his understanding.” G. Villani, 1. vii. +c. 94. We shall, however, find many of his actions severely reprobated in the +twentieth Canto. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. That stripling.] Either (as the old commentators suppose) Alonzo III +King of Arragon, the eldest son of Peter III who died in 1291, at the age of +27, or, according to Venturi, Peter the youngest son. The former was a young +prince of virtue sufficient to have justified the eulogium and the hopes of +Dante. +</p> + +<p> +See Mariana, 1. xiv. c. 14. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Rarely.]<br/> +Full well can the wise poet of Florence<br/> +That hight Dante, speaken in this sentence<br/> +Lo! in such manner rime is Dantes tale.<br/> +Full selde upriseth by his branches smale<br/> +Prowesse of man for God of his goodnesse<br/> +Woll that we claim of him our gentlenesse:<br/> +For of our elders may we nothing claime<br/> +But temporal thing, that men may hurt and maime.<br/> +Chaucer, Wife of Bathe’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Homer, Od. b. ii. v. 276; Pindar, Nem. xi. 48 and<br/> +Euripides, Electra, 369. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. To Charles.] “Al Nasuto.” -“Charles II King of +Naples, is no less inferior to his father Charles I. than James and Frederick +to theirs, Peter III.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Costanza.] Widow of Peter III She has been already mentioned in the +third Canto, v. 112. By Beatrice and Margaret are probably meant two of the +daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence; the former married to St. +Louis of France, the latter to his brother Charles of Anjou. See Paradise, +Canto Vl. 135. Dante therefore considers Peter as the most illustrious of the +three monarchs. +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. Harry of England.] Henry III. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Better issue.] Edward l. of whose glory our Poet was perhaps a witness, +in his visit to England. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. William, that brave Marquis.] William, Marquis of Monferrat, was +treacherously seized by his own subjects, at Alessandria, in Lombardy, A.D. +1290, and ended his life in prison. See G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 135. A war +ensued between the people of Alessandria and those of Monferrat and the +Canavese. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. That seems to mourn for the expiring day.] The curfew tolls the knell of +parting day. Gray’s Elegy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. Te Lucis Ante.] The beginning of one of the evening hymns. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. As faculty.] +</p> + +<p> +My earthly by his heav’nly overpower’d +</p> + +<p> +* * * *<br/> +As with an object, that excels the sense,<br/> +Dazzled and spent.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. viii. 457. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Nino, thou courteous judge.] Nino di Gallura de’ Visconti nephew +to Count Ugolino de’ Gherardeschi, and betrayed by him. See Notes to Hell +Canto XXXIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. Conrad.] Currado Malaspina. +</p> + +<p> +v. 71 My Giovanna.] The daughter of Nino, and wife of Riccardo da Cammino of +Trevigi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 73. Her mother.] Beatrice, marchioness of Este wife of Nino, and after his +death married to Galeazzo de’ Visconti of Milan. +</p> + +<p> +v. 74. The white and wimpled folds.] The weeds of widowhood. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. The viper.] The arms of Galeazzo and the ensign of the Milanese. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. Shrill Gallura’s bird.] The cock was the ensign of Gallura, +Nino’s province in Sardinia. Hell, Canto XXII. 80. and Notes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. Valdimagra.] See Hell, Canto XXIV. 144. and Notes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. Sev’n times the tired sun.] “The sun shall not enter into +the constellation of Aries seven times more, before thou shalt have still +better cause for the good opinion thou expresses” of Valdimagra, in the +kind reception thou shalt there meet with.” Dante was hospitably received +by the Marchese Marcello Malaspina, during his banishment. A.D. 1307. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Now the fair consort of Tithonus old.]<br/> +La concubina di Titone antico.<br/> +So Tassoni, Secchia Rapita, c. viii. st. 15.<br/> +La puttanella del canuto amante. +</p> + +<p> +v. 5. Of that chill animal.] The scorpion. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Our minds.] Compare Hell, Canto XXVI. 7. +</p> + +<p> +v. 18. A golden-feathered eagle. ] Chaucer, in the house of Fame at the +conclusion of the first book and beginning of the second, represents himself +carried up by the “grim pawes” of a golden eagle. Much of his +description is closely imitated from Dante. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Lucia.] The enIightening, grace of heaven Hell, Canto II. 97. +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. The lowest stair.] By the white step is meant the distinctness with +which the conscience of the penitent reflects his offences, by the burnt and +cracked one, his contrition on, their account; and by that of porphyry, the +fervour with which he resolves on the future pursuit of piety and virtue. +Hence, no doubt, Milton describing “the gate of heaven,” P. L. b. +iii. 516. +</p> + +<p> +Each stair mysteriously was meant. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. Seven times.] Seven P’s, to denote the seven sins (Peccata) of +which he was to be cleansed in his passage through purgatory. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. One is more precious.] The golden key denotes the divine authority by +which the priest absolves the sinners the silver expresses the learning and +judgment requisite for the due discharge of that office. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Harsh was the grating.]<br/> +On a sudden open fly<br/> +With impetuous recoil and jarring, sound<br/> +Th’ infernal doors, and on their hinges grate<br/> +Harsh thunder<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. ii 882 +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. The Turpeian.]<br/> +Protinus, abducto patuerunt temple Metello.<br/> +Tunc rupes Tarpeia sonat: magnoque reclusas<br/> +Testatur stridore fores: tune conditus imo<br/> +Eruitur tempo multis intactus ab annnis<br/> +Romani census populi, &c.<br/> +Lucan. Ph. 1. iii. 157. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO X</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. That Wound.] Venturi justly observes, that the Padre d’Aquino has +misrepresented the sense of this passage in his translation. +</p> + +<p> +—dabat ascensum tendentibus ultra Scissa tremensque silex, tenuique +erratica motu. +</p> + +<p> +The verb “muover” is used in the same signification in the<br/> +Inferno, Canto XVIII. 21. +</p> + +<p> +Cosi da imo della roccia scogli<br/> +Moven. +</p> + +<p> +—from the rock’s low base Thus flinty paths advanc’d. +</p> + +<p> +In neither place is actual motion intended to be expressed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. That from unbidden. office awes mankind.] Seo 2 Sam. G. +</p> + +<p> +v 58. Preceding.] Ibid. 14, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 68. Gregory.] St. Gregory’s prayers are said to have delivered Trajan +from hell. See Paradise, Canto XX. 40. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Trajan the Emperor. For this story, Landino refers to two writers, whom +he calls “Heunando,” of France, by whom he means Elinand, a monk +and chronicler, in the reign of Philip Augustus, and “Polycrato,” +of England, by whom is meant John of Salisbury, author of the Polycraticus de +Curialium Nugis, in the twelfth century. The passage in the text I find to be +nearly a translation from that work, 1. v. c. 8. The original appears to be in +Dio Cassius, where it is told of the Emperor Hadrian, lib. I xix. [GREEK HERE] +When a woman appeared to him with a suit, as he was on a journey, at first he +answered her, ‘I have no leisure,’ but she crying out to him, +‘then reign no longer’ he turned about, and heard her cause.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. As to support.] Chillingworth, ch.vi. 54. speaks of “those +crouching anticks, which seem in great buildings to labour under the weight +they bear.” And Lord Shaftesbury has a similar illustration in his Essay +on Wit and Humour, p. 4. s. 3. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XI</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. 0 thou Mighty Father.] The first four lines are borrowed by Pulci, Morg. +Magg. c. vi. Dante, in his ‘Credo,’ has again versified the +Lord’s prayer. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. I was of Latinum.] Omberto, the son of Guglielino Aldobrandeseo, Count +of Santafiore, in the territory of Sienna His arrogance provoked his countrymen +to such a pitch of fury against him, that he was murdered by them at +Campagnatico. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Oderigi.] The illuminator, or miniature painter, a friend of Giotto and +Dante +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. Bolognian Franco.] Franco of Bologna, who is said to have been a pupil +of Oderigi’s. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. Cimabue.] Giovanni Cimabue, the restorer of painting, was born at +Florence, of a noble family, in 1240, and died in 1300. The passage in the text +is an illusion to his epitaph: +</p> + +<p> +Credidit ut Cimabos picturae castra tenere,<br/> +Sic tenuit vivens: nunc tenet astra poli. +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. The cry is Giotto’s.] In Giotto we have a proof at how early a +period the fine arts were encouraged in Italy. His talents were discovered by +Cimabue, while he was tending sheep for his father in the neighbourhood of +Florence, and he was afterwards patronized by Pope Benedict XI and Robert King +of Naples, and enjoyed the society and friendship of Dante, whose likeness he +has transmitted to posterity. He died in 1336, at the age of 60. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. One Guido from the other.] Guido Cavalcanti, the friend of our Poet, +(see Hell, Canto X. 59.) had eclipsed the literary fame of Guido Guinicelli, of +a noble family in Bologna, whom we shall meet with in the twenty-sixth Canto +and of whom frequent mention is made by our Poet in his Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. +Guinicelli died in 1276. Many of Cavalcanti’s writings, hitherto in MS. +are now publishing at Florence” Esprit des Journaux, Jan. 1813. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. He perhaps is born.] Some imagine, with much probability, that Dante +here augurs the greatness of his own poetical reputation. Others have fancied +that he prophesies the glory of Petrarch. But Petrarch was not yet born. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. suitor.] Provenzano salvani humbled himself so far for the sake of one +of his friends, who was detained in captivity by Charles I of Sicily, as +personally to supplicate the people of Sienna to contribute the sum required by +the king for his ransom: +</p> + +<p> +and this act of self-abasement atoned for his general ambition and pride. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Thy neighbours soon.] “Thou wilt know in the time of thy +banishment, which is near at hand, what it is to solicit favours of others and +‘tremble through every vein,’ lest they should be refused +thee.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XII</h5> + +<p> +v. 26. The Thymbraen god.] Apollo +</p> + +<p> +Si modo, quem perhibes, pater est Thymbraeus Apollo. Virg. Georg. iv. 323. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. Mars.] +</p> + +<p> +With such a grace,<br/> +The giants that attempted to scale heaven<br/> +When they lay dead on the Phlegren plain<br/> +Mars did appear to Jove.<br/> +Beaumont and Fletcher, The Prophetess, a. 2. s. 3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. O Rehoboam.] 1 Kings, c. xii. 18. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. A1cmaeon.] Virg. Aen. l. vi. 445, and Homer, Od. xi. 325. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Sennacherib.] 2 Kings, c. xix. 37. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. What master of the pencil or the style.] —inimitable on earth By +model, or by shading pencil drawn. Milton, P. L. b. iii. 509. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. The chapel stands.] The church of San Miniato in Florence situated on a +height that overlooks the Arno, where it is crossed by the bridge Rubaconte, so +called from Messer Rubaconte da Mandelia, of Milan chief magistrate of +Florence, by whom the bridge was founded in 1237. See G. Villani, 1. vi. c. 27. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. The well-guided city] This is said ironically of Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. The registry.] In allusion to certain instances of fraud committed with +respect to the public accounts and measures See Paradise Canto XVI. 103. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 26. They have no wine.] John, ii. 3. These words of the Virgin are referred +to as an instance of charity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Orestes] Alluding to his friendship with Pylades +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. Love ye those have wrong’d you.] Matt. c. v. 44. +</p> + +<p> +v. 33. The scourge.] “The chastisement of envy consists in hearing +examples of the opposite virtue, charity. As a curb and restraint on this vice, +you will presently hear very different sounds, those of threatening and +punishment.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. Citizens Of one true city.] “For here we have no continuing city, +but we seek to come.” Heb. C. xiii. 14. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Sapia.] A lady of Sienna, who, living in exile at Colle, was so +overjoyed at a defeat which her countrymen sustained near that place that she +declared nothing more was wanting to make her die contented. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. The merlin.] The story of the merlin is that having been induced by a +gleam of fine weather in the winter to escape from his master, he was soon +oppressed by the rigour of the season. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. The hermit Piero.] Piero Pettinagno, a holy hermit of Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 141. That vain multitude.] The Siennese. See Hell, Canto XXIX. 117. +“Their acquisition of Telamone, a seaport on the confines of the Maremma, +has led them to conceive hopes of becoming a naval power: but this scheme will +prove as chimerical as their former plan for the discovery of a subterraneous +stream under their city.” Why they gave the appellation of Diana to the +imagined stream, Venturi says he leaves it to the antiquaries of Sienna to +conjecture. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 34. Maim’d of Pelorus.] Virg. Aen. 1. iii. 414. +</p> + +<p> +—a hill Torn from Pelorus Milton P. L. b. i. 232 +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. ’Midst brute swine.] The people of Casentino. +</p> + +<p> +v. 49. Curs.] The Arno leaves Arezzo about four miles to the left. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Wolves.] The Florentines. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. Foxes.] The Pisans +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Thy grandson.] Fulcieri de’ Calboli, grandson of Rinieri de’ +Calboli, who is here spoken to. The atrocities predicted came to pass in 1302. +See G. Villani, 1. viii c. 59 +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. ’Twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore.] The boundaries of +Romagna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. Lizio.] Lizio da Valbona, introduced into Boccaccio’s Decameron, +G. v. N, 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. Manardi, Traversaro, and Carpigna.1 Arrigo Manardi of Faenza, or as +some say, of Brettinoro, Pier Traversaro, lord of Ravenna, and Guido di +Carpigna of Montefeltro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. In Bologna the low artisan.] One who had been a mechanic named +Lambertaccio, arrived at almost supreme power in Bologna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Yon Bernardin.] Bernardin di Fosco, a man of low origin but great +talents, who governed at Faenza. +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Prata.] A place between Faenza and Ravenna +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Of Azzo him.] Ugolino of the Ubaldini family in Tuscany He is recounted +among the poets by Crescimbeni and Tiraboschi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 108. Tignoso.] Federigo Tignoso of Rimini. +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. Traversaro’s house and Anastagio’s.] Two noble families of +Ravenna. She to whom Dryden has given the name of Honoria, in the fable so +admirably paraphrased from Boccaccio, was of the former: her lover and the +specter were of the Anastagi family. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. The ladies, &c.] These two lines express the true spirit of +chivalry. “Agi” is understood by the commentators whom I have +consulted,to mean “the ease procured for others by the exertions of +knight-errantry.” But surely it signifies the alternation of ease with +labour. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. O Brettinoro.] A beautifully situated castle in Romagna, the hospitable +residence of Guido del Duca, who is here speaking. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Baynacavallo.] A castle between Imola and Ravenna +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Castracaro ill And Conio worse.] Both in Romagna. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. Pagani.] The Pagani were lords of Faenza and Imola. One of them +Machinardo, was named the Demon, from his treachery. See Hell, Canto XXVII. 47, +and Note. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Hugolin.] Ugolino Ubaldini, a noble and virtuous person in Faenza, who, +on account of his age probably, was not likely to leave any offspring behind +him. He is enumerated among the poets by Crescimbeni, and Tiraboschi. Mr. +Matthias’s edit. vol. i. 143 +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Whosoever finds Will slay me.] The words of Cain, Gen. e. iv. 14. +</p> + +<p> +v. 142. Aglauros.] Ovid, Met. I, ii. fate. 12. +</p> + +<p> +v. 145. There was the galling bit.] Referring to what had been before said, +Canto XIII. 35. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XV</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. As much.] It wanted three hours of sunset. +</p> + +<p> +v. 16. As when the ray.] Compare Virg. Aen. 1.viii. 22, and Apol. Rhod. 1. iii. +755. +</p> + +<p> +v. 19. Ascending at a glance.] Lucretius, 1. iv. 215. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. Differs from the stone.] The motion of light being quicker than that of +a stone through an equal space. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. Blessed the merciful. Matt. c. v. 7. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. Romagna’s spirit.] Guido del Duea, of Brettinoro whom we have seen +in the preceding Canto. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. A dame.] Luke, c. ii. 18 +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. How shall we those requite.] The answer of Pisistratus the tyrant to +his wife, when she urged him to inflict the punishment of death on a young man, +who, inflamed with love for his daughter, had snatched from her a kiss in +public. The story is told by Valerius Maximus, 1.v. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 105. A stripling youth.] The protomartyr Stephen. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 94. As thou.] “If thou wert still living.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. I was of Lombardy, and Marco call’d.] A Venetian gentleman. +“Lombardo” both was his surname and denoted the country to which he +belonged. G. Villani, 1. vii. c. 120, terms him “a wise and worthy +courtier.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. Elsewhere.] He refers to what Guido del Duca had said in the thirteenth +Canto, concerning the degeneracy of his countrymen. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. If this were so.] Mr. Crowe in his Lewesdon Hill has expressed similar +sentiments with much energy. +</p> + +<p> +Of this be sure,<br/> +Where freedom is not, there no virtue is, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Origen in Genesim, Patrum Graecorum, vol. xi. p. 14. Wirer burgi, 1783. +8vo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. To mightier force.] “Though ye are subject to a higher power than +that of the heavenly constellations, e`en to the power of the great Creator +himself, yet ye are still left in the possession of liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. Like a babe that wantons sportively.] This reminds one of the Emperor +Hadrian’s verses to his departing soul: +</p> + +<p> +Animula vagula blandula, &c +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. The fortress.] Justice, the most necessary virtue in the chief +magistrate, as the commentators explain it. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Who.] He compares the Pope, on account of the union of the temporal +with the spiritual power in his person, to an unclean beast in the levitical +law. “The camel, because he cheweth the cud, but divideth not the hoof, +he is unclean unto you.” Levit. c. xi. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Two sons.] The Emperor and the Bishop of Rome. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. That land.] Lombardy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Ere the day.] Before the Emperor Frederick II was defeated before +Parma, in 1248. G. Villani, 1. vi. c. 35. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. The good Gherardo.] Gherardo di Camino of Trevigi. He is honourably +mentioned in our Poet’s “Convito.” Opere di Dante, t. i. p. +173 Venez. 8vo. 1793. And Tiraboschi supposes him to have been the same +Gherardo with whom the Provencal poets were used to meet with hospitable +reception. See Mr. Matthias’s edition, t. i. p. 137, v. 127. Conrad.] +Currado da Palazzo, a gentleman of Brescia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Guido of Castello.] Of Reggio. All the Italians were called Lombards by +the French. +</p> + +<p> +v. 144. His daughter Gaia.] A lady equally admired for her modesty, the beauty +of her person, and the excellency of her talents. Gaia, says Tiraboschi, may +perhaps lay claim to the praise of having been the first among the Italian +ladies, by whom the vernacular poetry was cultivated. Ibid. p. 137. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVII</h5> + +<p> +v. 21. The bird, that most Delights itself in song.] I cannot think with +Vellutello, that the swallow is here meant. Dante probably alludes to the story +of Philomela, as it is found in Homer’s Odyssey, b. xix. 518 rather than +as later poets have told it. “She intended to slay the son of her +husband’s brother Amphion, incited to it, by the envy of his wife, who +had six children, while herself had only two, but through mistake slew her own +son Itylus, and for her punishment was transformed by Jupiter into a +nightingale.” Cowper’s note on the passage. In speaking of the +nightingale, let me observe, that while some have considered its song as a +melancholy, and others as a cheerful one, Chiabrera appears to have come +nearest the truth, when he says, in the Alcippo, a. l. s. 1, Non mal si stanca +d’ iterar le note O gioconde o dogliose, Al sentir dilettose. +</p> + +<p> +Unwearied still reiterates her lays,<br/> +Jocund or sad, delightful to the ear. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. One crucified.] Haman. See the book of Esther, c. vii. v. 34. A damsel.] +Lavinia, mourning for her mother Amata, who, impelled by grief and indignation +for the supposed death of Turnus, destroyed herself. Aen. 1. xii. 595. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. The broken slumber quivering ere it dies.] Venturi suggests that this +bold and unusual metaphor may have been formed on that in Virgil. +</p> + +<p> +Tempus erat quo prima quies mortalibus aegris<br/> +Incipit, et dono divun gratissima serpit.<br/> +Aen. 1. ii. 268. +</p> + +<p> +v. 68. The peace-makers.] Matt. c. v. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. The love.] “A defect in our love towards God, or lukewarmness in +piety, is here removed.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. The primal blessings.] Spiritual good. +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. Th’ inferior.] Temporal good. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. Now.] “It is impossible for any being, either to hate itself, or +to hate the First Cause of all, by which it exists. We can therefore only +rejoice in the evil which befalls others.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. There is.] The proud. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. There is.] The envious. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. There is he.] The resentful. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Along Three circles.] According to the allegorical commentators, as +Venturi has observed, Reason is represented under the person of Virgil, and +Sense under that of Dante. The former leaves to the latter to discover for +itself the three carnal sins, avarice, gluttony and libidinousness; having +already declared the nature of the spiritual sins, pride, envy, anger, and +indifference, or lukewarmness in piety, which the Italians call accidia, from +the Greek word. [GREEK HERE] +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The teacher ended.] Compare Plato, Protagoras, v. iii. p. 123. Bip. edit. +[GREEK HERE] Apoll. Rhod. 1. i. 513, and Milton, P. L. b. viii. 1. The angel +ended, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. Your apprehension.] It is literally, “Your apprehensive faculty +derives intention from a thing really existing, and displays the intention +within you, so that it makes the soul turn to it.” The commentators +labour in explaining this; and whatever sense they have elicited may, I think, +be resolved into the words of the translation in the text. +</p> + +<p> +v. 47. Spirit.] The human soul, which differs from that of brutes, inasmuch as, +though united with the body, it has a separate existence of its own. v. 65. +Three men.] The great moral philosophers among the heathens. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. A crag.] I have preferred the reading of Landino, scheggion, +“crag,” conceiving it to be more poetical than secchion, +“bucket,” which is the common reading. The same cause, the vapours, +which the commentators say might give the appearance of increased magnitude to +the moon, might also make her seem broken at her rise. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. Up the vault.] The moon passed with a motion opposite to that of the +heavens, through the constellation of the scorpion, in which the sun is, when +to those who are in Rome he appears to set between the isles of Corsica and +Sardinia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 84. Andes.] Andes, now Pietola, made more famous than Mantua near which it +is situated, by having been the birthplace of Virgil. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. Ismenus and Asopus.] Rivers near Thebes +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. Mary.] Luke, c i. 39, 40 +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. Caesar.] See Lucan, Phars. I. iii. and iv, and Caesar de Bello Civiii, +I. i. Caesar left Brutus to complete the siege of Marseilles, and hastened on +to the attack of Afranius and Petreius, the generals of Pompey, at Ilerda +(Lerida) in Spain. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. abbot.] Alberto, abbot of San Zeno in Verona, when Frederick I was +emperor, by whom Milan was besieged and reduced to ashes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. There is he.] Alberto della Scala, lord of Verona, who had made his +natural son abbot of San Zeno. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. First they died.] The Israelites, who, on account of their +disobedience, died before reaching the promised land. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. And they.] Virg Aen. 1. v. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The hour.] Near the dawn. +</p> + +<p> +v. 4. The geomancer.] The geomancers, says Landino, when they divined, drew a +figure consisting of sixteen marks, named from so many stars which constitute +the end of Aquarius and the beginning of Pisces. One of these they called +“the greater fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 7. A woman’s shape.] Worldly happiness. This allegory reminds us of +the “Choice of Hercules.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Love’s own hue.]<br/> +A smile that glow’d<br/> +Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. viii. 619 +</p> + +<p> +—facies pulcherrima tune est<br/> +Quum porphyriaco variatur candida rubro<br/> +Quid color hic roseus sibi vult? designat amorem:<br/> +Quippe amor est igni similis; flammasque rubentes<br/> +Ignus habere solet.<br/> +Palingenii Zodiacus Vitae, 1. xii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. A dame.] Philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 49. Who mourn.] Matt. c. v. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. My soul.] Psalm cxix. 5 +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. The successor of Peter Ottobuono, of the family of Fieschi Counts of +Lavagna, died thirty-nine days after he became Pope, with the title of Adrian +V, in 1276. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. That stream.] The river Lavagna, in the Genoese territory. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. nor shall be giv’n in marriage.] Matt. c. xxii. 30. “Since +in this state we neither marry nor are given in marriage, I am no longer the +spouse of the church, and therefore no longer retain my former dignity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. A kinswoman.] Alagia is said to have been the wife of the Marchese +Marcello Malaspina, one of the poet’s protectors during his exile. See +Canto VIII. 133. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XX</h5> + +<p> +v. 3. I drew the sponge.] “I did not persevere in my inquiries from the +spirit though still anxious to learn more.” v. 11. Wolf.] Avarice. +</p> + +<p> +v. 16. Of his appearing.] He is thought to allude to Can Grande della Scala. +See Hell, Canto I. 98. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. Fabricius.] Compare Petrarch, Tr. della Fama, c. 1. +</p> + +<p> +Un Curio ed un Fabricio, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. Nicholas.] The story of Nicholas is, that an angel having revealed to +him that the father of a family was so impoverished as to resolve on exposing +the chastity of his three daughters to sale, he threw in at the window of their +house three bags of money, containing a sufficient portion for each of them. v. +42. Root.] Hugh Capet, ancestor of Philip IV. v. 46. Had Ghent and Douay, Lille +and Bruges power.] These cities had lately been seized by Philip IV. The spirit +is made to imitate the approaching defeat of the French army by the Flemings, +in the battle of Courtrai, which happened in 1302. v. 51. The slaughter’s +trade.] This reflection on the birth of his ancestor induced Francis I to +forbid the reading of Dante in his dominions Hugh Capet, who came to the throne +of France in 987, was however the grandson of Robert, who was the brother of +Eudes, King of France in 888. +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. All save one.] The posterity of Charlemagne, the second race of French +monarchs, had failed, with the exception of Charles of Lorraine who is said, on +account of the melancholy temper of his mind, to have always clothed himself in +black. Venturi suggest that Dante may have confounded him with Childeric III +the last of the Merosvingian, or first, race, who was deposed and made a monk +in 751. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. My son.] Hugh Capet caused his son Robert to be crowned at Orleans. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. The Great dower of Provence.] Louis IX, and his brother Charles of +Anjou, married two of the four daughters of Raymond Berenger Count of Provence. +See Par. Canto VI. 135. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. For amends.] This is ironical +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. Poitou it seiz’d, Navarre and Gascony.] I venture to read- Potti e +Navarra prese e Guascogna, +</p> + +<p> +instead of +</p> + +<p> +Ponti e Normandia prese e Guascogna<br/> +Seiz’d Ponthieu, Normandy and Gascogny. +</p> + +<p> +Landino has “Potti,” and he is probably right for Poitou was +annexed to the French crown by Philip IV. See Henault, Abrege Chron. A.D. l283, +&c. Normandy had been united to it long before by Philip Augustus, a +circumstance of which it is difficult to imagine that Dante should have been +ignorant, but Philip IV, says Henault, ibid., took the title of King of +Navarre: and the subjugation of Navarre is also alluded to in the Paradise, +Canto XIX. 140. In 1293, Philip IV summoned Edward I. to do him homage for the +duchy of Gascogny, which he had conceived the design of seizing. See G. +Villani, l. viii. c. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. Young Conradine.] Charles of Anjou put Conradine to death in 1268; and +became King of Naples. See Hell, Canto XXVIII, 16, and Note. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. Th’ angelic teacher.] Thomas Aquinas. He was reported to have been +poisoned by a physician, who wished to ingratiate himself with Charles of +Anjou. G. Villani, I. ix. c. 218. We shall find him in the Paradise, Canto X. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Another Charles.] Charles of Valois, brother of Philip IV, was sent by +Pope Boniface VIII to settle the disturbed state of Florence. In consequence of +the measures he adopted for that purpose, our poet and his friend, were +condemned to exile and death. +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. -with that lance Which the arch-traitor tilted with.] +</p> + +<p> +con la lancia Con la qual giostro Guida. +</p> + +<p> +If I remember right, in one of the old romances, Judas is represented tilting +with our Saviour. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. The other.] Charles, King of Naples, the eldest son of Charles of Anjou, +having, contrary to the directions of his father, engaged with Ruggier de +Lauria, the admiral of Peter of Arragon, was made prisoner and carried into +Sicily, June, 1284. He afterwards, in consideration of a large sum of money, +married his daughter to Azzo VI11, Marquis of Ferrara. +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. The flower-de-luce.] Boniface VIII was seized at Alagna in Campagna, by +order of Philip IV., in the year 1303, and soon after died of grief. G. +Villani, 1. viii. c. 63. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. Into the temple.] It is uncertain whether our Poet alludes still to the +event mentioned in the preceding Note, or to the destruction of the order of +the Templars in 1310, but the latter appears more probable. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Pygmalion.] Virg. Aen. 1. i. 348. +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Achan.] Joshua, c. vii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Heliodorus.] 2 Maccabees, c. iii. 25. “For there appeared unto +them a horse, with a terrible rider upon him, and adorned with a very fair +covering, and he ran fiercely and smote at Heliodorus with his forefeet.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. Thracia’s king.] Polymnestor, the murderer of Polydorus. Hell, +Canto XXX, 19. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. Crassus.] Marcus Crassus, who fell miserably in the Parthian war. See +Appian, Parthica. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXI</h5> + +<p> +v. 26. She.] Lachesis, one of the three fates. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. —that, which heaven in itself Doth of itself receive.] Venturi, I +think rightly interprets this to be light. +</p> + +<p> +v. 49. Thaumantian.] Figlia di Taumante [GREEK HERE] +</p> + +<p> +Compare Plato, Theaet. v. ii. p. 76. Bip. edit., Virg; Aen. ix. 5, and Spenser, +Faery Queen, b. v. c. 3. st. 25. +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. The name.] The name of Poet. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. From Tolosa.] Dante, as many others have done, confounds Statius the +poet, who was a Neapolitan, with a rhetorician of the same name, who was of +Tolosa, or Thoulouse. Thus Chaucer, Temple of Fame, b. iii. The Tholason, that +height Stace. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. Fell.] Statius lived to write only a small part of the Achilleid. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXII</h5> + +<p> +v. 5. Blessed.] Matt. v. 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. Aquinum’s bard.] Juvenal had celebrated his contemporary Statius, +Sat. vii. 82; though some critics imagine that there is a secret derision +couched under his praise. +</p> + +<p> +v. 28. Why.] Quid non mortalia pecaora cogis Anri sacra fames? Virg. Aen. 1. +iii. 57 +</p> + +<p> +Venturi supposes that Dante might have mistaken the meaning of the word sacra, +and construed it “holy,” instead of “cursed.” But I see +no necessity for having recourse to so improbable a conjecture. +</p> + +<p> +v. 41. The fierce encounter.] See Hell, Canto VII. 26. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. With shorn locks.] Ibid. 58. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. The twin sorrow of Jocasta’s womb.] Eteocles and Polynices +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. A renovated world.] Virg. Ecl. iv. 5 +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. That Greek.] Homer +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Of thy train. ] Of those celebrated in thy Poem.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. Tiresias’ daughter.] Dante appears to have forgotten that he had +placed Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, among the sorcerers. See Hell Canto XX. +Vellutello endeavours, rather awkwardly, to reconcile the inconsistency, by +observing, that although she was placed there as a sinner, yet, as one of +famous memory, she had also a place among the worthies in Limbo. +</p> + +<p> +Lombardi excuses our author better, by observing that Tiresias had a daughter +named Daphne. See Diodorus Siculus, 1. iv. 66. +</p> + +<p> +v. 139. Mary took more thought.] “The blessed virgin, who answers for yon +now in heaven, when she said to Jesus, at the marriage in Cana of Galilee, +‘they have no wine,’ regarded not the gratification of her own +taste, but the honour of the nuptial banquet.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 142 The women of old Rome.] See Valerius Maximus, 1. ii. c. i. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 9. My lips.] Psalm ii. 15. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. The eyes.] Compare Ovid, Metam. 1. viii. 801 +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. When Mary.] Josephus, De Bello Jud. 1. vii. c. xxi. p. 954 Ed Genev. +fol. 1611. The shocking story is well told +</p> + +<p> +v. 27. Rings.]<br/> +In this habit<br/> +Met I my father with his bleeding rings<br/> +Their precious stones new lost.<br/> +Shakespeare, Lear, a. 5. s. 3 +</p> + +<p> +v. 28. Who reads the name.] “He, who pretends to distinguish the letters +which form OMO in the features of the human face, “might easily have +traced out the M on their emaciated countenances.” The temples, nose, and +forehead are supposed to represent this letter; and the eyes the two O’s +placed within each side of it. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. Forese.] One of the brothers of Piccarda, she who is again spoken of in +the next Canto, and introduced in the Paradise, Canto III. +</p> + +<p> +V. 72. If the power.] “If thou didst delay thy repentance to the last, +when thou hadst lost the power of sinning, how happens it thou art arrived here +so early?” +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Lower.] In the Ante-Purgatory. See Canto II. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. My Nella.] The wife of Forese. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. The tract most barb’rous of Sardinia’s isle.] The Barbagia +is part of Sardinia, to which that name was given, on account of the +uncivilized state of its inhabitants, who are said to have gone nearly naked. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. The’ unblushing domes of Florence.] Landino’s note exhibits +a curious instance of the changeableness of his countrywomen. He even goes +beyond the acrimony of the original. “In those days,” says the +commentator, “no less than in ours, the Florentine ladies exposed the +neck and bosom, a dress, no doubt, more suitable to a harlot than a matron. +But, as they changed soon after, insomuch that they wore collars up to the +chin, covering the whole of the neck and throat, so have I hopes they will +change again; not indeed so much from motives of decency, as through that +fickleness, which pervades every action of their lives.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Saracens.] “This word, during the middle ages, was +indiscriminately applied to Pagans and Mahometans; in short, to all nations +(except the Jew’s) who did not profess Christianity.” Mr. +Ellis’s specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, vol. i. page 196, a +note. Lond. 8vo. 1805. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 20. Buonaggiunta.] Buonaggiunta Urbiciani, of Lucca. “There is a +canzone by this poet, printed in the collection made by the Giunti, (p. +209,).land a sonnet to Guido Guinicelli in that made by Corbinelli, (p 169,) +from which we collect that he lived not about 1230, as Quadrio supposes, (t. +ii. p. 159,) but towards the end of the thirteenth century. Concerning, other +poems by Buonaggiunta, that are preserved in MS. in some libraries, Crescimbeni +may be consulted.” Tiraboschi, Mr. Matthias’s ed. v. i. p. 115. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. He was of Tours.] Simon of Tours became Pope, with the title of Martin +IV in 1281 and died in 1285. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Ubaldino.] Ubaldino degli Ubaldini, of Pila, in the Florentine +territory. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. Boniface.] Archbishop of Ravenna. By Venturi he is called Bonifazio de +Fieschi, a Genoese, by Vellutello, the son of the above, mentioned Ubaldini and +by Laudino Francioso, a Frenchman. +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. The Marquis.] The Marchese de’ Rigogliosi, of Forli. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. gentucca.] Of this lady it is thought that our Poet became enamoured +during his exile. v. 45. Whose brow no wimple shades yet.] “Who has not +yet assumed the dress of a woman.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Blame it as they may.] See Hell, Canto XXI. 39. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. Ladies, ye that con the lore of love.]Donne ch’ avete intelletto +d’amore.The first verse of a canzone in our author’s Vita Nuova. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. The Notary.] Jucopo da Lentino, called the Notary, a poet of these +times. He was probably an Apulian: for Dante, (De Vulg. Eloq. I. i. c 12.) +quoting a verse which belongs to a canzone of his published by the Giunti, +without mentioning the writer’s name, terms him one of “the +illustrious Apulians,” praefulgentes Apuli. See Tiraboschi, Mr. +Matthias’s edit. vol. i. p. 137. Crescimbeni (1. i. Della Volg. Poes p. +72. 4to. ed. 1698) gives an extract from one of his poems, printed in +Allacci’s Collection, to show that the whimsical compositions called +“Ariette “ are not of modern invention. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Guittone.] Fra Guittone, of Arezzo, holds a distinguished place in +Italian literature, as besides his poems printed in the collection of the +Giunti, he has left a collection of letters, forty in number, which afford the +earliest specimen of that kind of writing in the language. They were published +at Rome in 1743, with learned illustrations by Giovanni Bottari. He was also +the first who gave to the sonnet its regular and legitimate form, a species of +composition in which not only his own countrymen, but many of the best poets in +all the cultivated languages of modern Europe, have since so much delighted. +</p> + +<p> +Guittone, a native of Arezzo, was the son of Viva di Michele. He was of the +order of the “ Frati Godenti,” of which an account may be seen in +the Notes to Hell, Canto XXIII. In the year 1293, he founded a monastery of the +order of Camaldoli, in Florence, and died in the following year. Tiraboschi, +Ibid. p. 119. Dante, in the Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. 1. i. c. 13, and 1. ii. c. +6., blames him for preferring the plebeian to the mor courtly style; and +Petrarch twice places him in the company of our Poet. Triumph of Love, cap. iv. +and Son. Par. See “Sennuccio mio” +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. The birds.] Hell, Canto V. 46, Euripides, Helena, 1495, and Statius; +Theb. 1. V. 12. v. 81. He.] Corso Donati was suspected of aiming at the +sovereignty of Florence. To escape the fury of his fellow citizens, he fled +away on horseback, but failing, was overtaken and slain, A.D. 1308. The +contemporary annalist, after relating at length the circumstances of his fate, +adds, “that he was one of the wisest and most valorous knights the best +speaker, the most expert statesman, the most renowned and enterprising, man of +his age in Italy, a comely knight and of graceful carriage, but very worldly, +and in his time had formed many conspiracies in Florence and entered into many +scandalous practices, for the sake of attaining state and lordship.” G. +Villani, 1. viii. c. 96. The character of Corso is forcibly drawn by another of +his contemporaries Dino Compagni. 1. iii., Muratori, Rer. Ital. Script. t. ix. +p. 523. +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. Creatures of the clouds.] The Centaurs. Ovid. Met. 1. fab. 4 v. 123. +The Hebrews.] Judges, c. vii. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXV</h5> + +<p> +v. 58. As sea-sponge.] The fetus is in this stage is zoophyte. +</p> + +<p> +v. 66. -More wise Than thou, has erred.] Averroes is said to be here meant. +Venturi refers to his commentary on Aristotle, De Anim 1. iii. c. 5. for the +opinion that there is only one universal intellect or mind pervading every +individual of the human race. Much of the knowledge displayed by our Poet in +the present Canto appears to have been derived from the medical work o+ +Averroes, called the Colliget. Lib. ii. f. 10. Ven. 1400. fol. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Mark the sun’s heat.] Redi and Tiraboschi (Mr. Matthias’s +ed. v. ii. p. 36.) have considered this an anticipation of a profound discovery +of Galileo’s in natural philosophy, but it is in reality taken from a +passage in Cicero “de Senectute,” where, speaking of the grape, he +says, “ quae, et succo terrae et calore solis augescens, primo est +peracerba gustatu, deinde maturata dulcescit.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. I do, not know a man.] Luke, c. i. 34. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. Callisto.] See Ovid, Met. 1. ii. fab. 5. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 70. Caesar.] For the opprobrium east on Caesar’s effeminacy, see +Suetonius, Julius Caesar, c. 49. +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. Guinicelli.] See Note to Canto XI. 96. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. lycurgus.] Statius, Theb. 1. iv. and v. Hypsipile had left her infant +charge, the son of Lycurgus, on a bank, where it was destroyed by a serpent, +when she went to show the Argive army the river of Langia: and, on her escaping +the effects of Lycurgus’s resentment, the joy her own children felt at +the sight of her was such as our Poet felt on beholding his predecessor +Guinicelli. +</p> + +<p> +The incidents are beautifully described in Statius, and seem to have made an +impression on Dante, for he again (Canto XXII. 110.) characterizes Hypsipile, +as her- Who show’d Langia’s wave. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. He.] The united testimony of Dante, and of Petrarch, in his Triumph of +Love, e. iv. places Arnault Daniel at the head of the Provencal poets. That he +was born of poor but noble parents, at the castle of Ribeyrae in Perigord, and +that he was at the English court, is the amount of Millot’s information +concerning him (t. ii. p. 479). +</p> + +<p> +The account there given of his writings is not much more satisfactory, and the +criticism on them must go for little better than nothing. +</p> + +<p> +It is to be regretted that we have not an opportunity of judging for ourselves +of his “love ditties and his tales of prose “ +</p> + +<p> +Versi d’amore e prose di romanzi. +</p> + +<p> +Our Poet frequently cities him in the work De Vulgari Eloquentia. According to +Crescimbeni, (Della Volg. Poes. 1. 1. p. 7. ed. 1698.) He died in 1189. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. The songster of Limoges.] Giraud de Borneil, of Sideuil, a castle in +Limoges. He was a troubadour, much admired and caressed in his day, and appears +to have been in favour with the monarchs of Castile, Leon, Navarre, and Arragon +He is quoted by Dante, De Vulg. Eloq., and many of his poems are still +remaining in MS. According to Nostradamus he died in 1278. Millot, Hist. Litt. +des Troub. t. ii. p. 1 and 23. But I suspect that there is some error in this +date, and that he did not live to see so late a period. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Guittone.] See Cano XXIV. 56. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. Far as needs.] See Canto XI. 23. +</p> + +<p> +v. 132. Thy courtesy.] Arnault is here made to speak in his own tongue, the +Provencal. According to Dante, (De Vulg. Eloq. 1. 1. c. 8.) the Provencal was +one language with the Spanish. What he says on this subject is so curious, that +the reader will perhaps not be displeased it I give an abstract of it. +</p> + +<p> +He first makes three great divisions of the European languages. “One of +these extends from the mouths of the Danube, or the lake of Maeotis, to the +western limits of England, and is bounded by the limits of the French and +Italians, and by the ocean. One idiom obtained over the whole of this space: +but was afterwards subdivided into, the Sclavonian, Hungarian, Teutonic, Saxon, +English, and the vernacular tongues of several other people, one sign remaining +to all, that they use the affirmative io, (our English ay.) The whole of +Europe, beginning from the Hungarian limits and stretching towards the east, +has a second idiom which reaches still further than the end of Europe into +Asia. This is the Greek. In all that remains of Europe, there is a third idiom +subdivided into three dialects, which may be severally distinguished by the use +of the affirmatives, oc, oil, and si; the first spoken by the Spaniards, the +next by the French, and the third by the Latins (or Italians). The first occupy +the western part of southern Europe, beginning from the limits of the Genoese. +The third occupy the eastern part from the said limits, as far, that is, as the +promontory of Italy, where the Adriatic sea begins, and to Sicily. The second +are in a manner northern with respect to these for they have the Germans to the +east and north, on the west they are bounded by the English sea, and the +mountains of Arragon, and on the south by the people of Provence and the +declivity of the Apennine.” Ibid. c. x. “Each of these +three,” he observes, “has its own claims to distinction The +excellency of the French language consists in its being best adapted, on +account of its facility and agreeableness, to prose narration, (quicquid +redactum, sive inventum est ad vulgare prosaicum suum est); and he instances +the books compiled on the gests of the Trojans and Romans and the delightful +adventures of King Arthur, with many other histories and works of instruction. +The Spanish (or Provencal) may boast of its having produced such as first +cultivated in this as in a more perfect and sweet language, the vernacular +poetry: among whom are Pierre d’Auvergne, and others more ancient. The +privileges of the Latin, or Italian are two: first that it may reckon for its +own those writers who have adopted a more sweet and subtle style of poetry, in +the number of whom are Cino, da Pistoia and his friend, and the next, that its +writers seem to adhere to, certain general rules of grammar, and in so doing +give it, in the opinion of the intelligent, a very weighty pretension to +preference.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The sun.] At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight, and in India +noonday, while it was sunset in Purgatory +</p> + +<p> +v. 10. Blessed.] Matt. c. v. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. Come.] Matt. c. xxv. 34. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102. I am Leah.] By Leah is understood the active life, as Rachel figures +the contemplative. The divinity is the mirror in which the latter looks. Michel +Angelo has made these allegorical personages the subject of two statues on the +monument of Julius II. in the church of S. Pietro in Vincolo. See Mr. +Duppa’s Life of Michel Angelo, Sculpture viii. And x. and p 247. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Those bright eyes.] The eyes of Beatrice. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 11. To that part.] The west. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14. The feather’d quiristers] Imitated by Boccaccio, Fiammetta, 1. iv. +“Odi i queruli uccelli,” &c. —“Hear the querulous +birds plaining with sweet songs, and the boughs trembling, and, moved by a +gentle wind, as it were keeping tenor to their notes.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 7. A pleasant air.] Compare Ariosto, O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 50. +</p> + +<p> +v. Chiassi.] This is the wood where the scene of Boccaccio’s sublimest +story is laid. See Dec. g. 5. n. 8. and Dryden’s Theodore and Honoria Our +Poet perhaps wandered in it daring his abode with Guido Novello da Polenta. +</p> + +<p> +v. 41. A lady.] Most of the commentators suppose, that by this lady, who in the +last Canto is called Matilda, is to be understood the Countess Matilda, who +endowed the holy see with the estates called the Patrimony of St. Peter, and +died in 1115. See G. Villani, 1. iv. e. 20 But it seems more probable that she +should be intended for an allegorical personage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. Thou, Lord hast made me glad.] Psalm xcii. 4 +</p> + +<p> +v. 146. On the Parnassian mountain.] In bicipiti somniasse Parnasso. Persius +Prol. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIX</h5> + +<p> +v. 76. Listed colours.]<br/> +Di sette liste tutte in quel colori, &c.<br/> +—a bow<br/> +Conspicuous with three listed colours gay.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. xi. 865. +</p> + +<p> +v. 79. Ten paces.] For an explanation of the allegorical meaning of this +mysterious procession, Venturi refers those “who would see in the +dark” to the commentaries of Landino, Vellutello, and others: and adds +that it is evident the Poet has accommodated to his own fancy many sacred +images in the Apocalypse. In Vasari’s Life of Giotto, we learn that Dante +recommended that book to his friend, as affording fit subjects for his pencil. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. Four.] The four evangelists. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. Ezekiel.] Chap. 1. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. John.] Rev. c. iv. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Gryphon.] Under the Gryphon, an imaginary creature, the forepart of +which is an eagle, and the hinder a lion, is shadowed forth the union of the +divine and human nature in Jesus Christ. The car is the church. +</p> + +<p> +v. 115. Tellus’ prayer.] Ovid, Met. 1. ii. v. 279. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. Three nymphs.] The three evangelical virtues: the first Charity, the +next Hope, and the third Faith. Faith may be produced by charity, or charity by +faith, but the inducements to hope must arise either from one or other of +these. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. A band quaternion.] The four moral or cardinal virtues, of whom +Prudence directs the others. +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. Two old men.] Saint Luke, characterized as the writer of the Arts of +the Apostles and Saint Paul. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. Of the great Coan.] Hippocrates, “whom nature made for the +benefit of her favourite creature, man.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 138. Four others.] “The commentators,” says Venturi; +“suppose these four to be the four evangelists, but I should rather take +them to be four principal doctors of the church.” Yet both Landino and +Vellutello expressly call them the authors of the epistles, James, Peter, John +and Jude. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. One single old man.] As some say, St. John, under his character of the +author of the Apocalypse. But in the poem attributed to Giacopo, the son of our +Poet, which in some MSS, accompanies the original of this work, and is +descriptive of its plan, this old man is said to be Moses. +</p> + +<p> +E’l vecchio, ch’ era dietro a tutti loro<br/> +Fu Moyse. +</p> + +<p> +And the old man, who was behind them all,<br/> +Was Moses.<br/> +See No. 3459 of the Harl. MSS. in the British Museum. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The polar light.] The seven candlesticks. +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. Come.] Song of Solomon, c. iv. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 19. Blessed.] Matt. c. xxi. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. From full hands.] Virg. Aen 1. vi. 884. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. The old flame.] Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae Virg. Aen. I. I. 23. +</p> + +<p> +Conosco i segni dell’ antico fuoco.<br/> +Giusto de’ Conti, La Bella Mano. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Nor.] “Not all the beauties of the terrestrial Paradise; in which +I was, were sufficient to allay my grief.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. But.] They sang the thirty-first Psalm, to the end of the eighth verse. +</p> + +<p> +v. 87. The living rafters.] The leafless woods on the Apennine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. The land whereon no shadow falls.] “When the wind blows, from off +Africa, where, at the time of the equinox, bodies being under the equator cast +little or no shadow; or, in other words, when the wind is south.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. The ice.] Milton has transferred this conceit, though scarcely worth the +pains of removing, into one of his Italian poems, son. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXI</h5> + +<p> +v. 3. With lateral edge.] The words of Beatrice, when not addressed directly to +himself, but speaking to the angel of hell, Dante had thought sufficiently +harsh. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Counter to the edge.] “The weapons of divine justice are blunted +by the confession and sorrow of the offender.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. Bird.] Prov. c. i. 17 +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. From Iarbas’ land.] The south. +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. The beard.] “I perceived, that when she desired me to raise my +beard, instead of telling me to lift up my head, a severe reflection was +implied on my want of that wisdom which should accompany the age of +manhood.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. Tu asperges me.] A prayer repeated by the priest at sprinkling the holy +water. +</p> + +<p> +v. 106. And in the heaven are stars.] See Canto I. 24. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. The emeralds.] The eyes of Beatrice. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXII</h5> + +<p> +v. 2. Their ten years’ thirst.] Beatrice had been dead ten years. +</p> + +<p> +v. 9. Two fix’d a gaze.] The allegorical interpretation of Vellutello +whether it be considered as justly terrible from the text or not, conveys so +useful a lesson, that it deserves our notice. “The understanding is +sometimes so intently engaged in contemplating the light of divine truth in the +scriptures, that it becomes dazzled, and is made less capable of attaining such +knowledge, than if it had sought after it with greater moderation” +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Its tresses.] Daniel, c. iv. 10, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 41. The Indians.]<br/> +Quos oceano proprior gerit India lucos.<br/> +Virg. Georg. 1. ii. 122,<br/> +Such as at this day to Indians known.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. ix. 1102. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. When large floods of radiance.] When the sun enters into Aries, the +constellation next to that of the Fish. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. Th’ unpitying eyes.] See Ovid, Met. 1. i. 689. +</p> + +<p> +v. 74. The blossoming of that fair tree.] Our Saviour’s transfiguration. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. Those lights.] The tapers of gold. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. That true Rome.] Heaven. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. The bird of Jove.] This, which is imitated from Ezekiel, c. xvii. 3, 4. +appears to be typical of the persecutions which the church sustained from the +Roman Emperors. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. A fox.] By the fox perhaps is represented the treachery of the +heretics. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. With his feathers lin’d.]. An allusion to the donations made by +the Roman Emperors to the church. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. A dragon.] Probably Mahomet. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. With plumes.] The donations before mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +v. 142. Heads.] By the seven heads, it is supposed with sufficient probability, +are meant the seven capital sins, by the three with two horns, pride, anger, +and avarice, injurious both to man himself and to his neighbor: by the four +with one horn, gluttony, lukewarmness, concupiscence, and envy, hurtful, at +least in their primary effects, chiefly to him who is guilty of them. +</p> + +<p> +v. 146. O’er it.] The harlot is thought to represent the state of the +church under Boniface VIII and the giant to figure Philip IV of France. +</p> + +<p> +v. 155. Dragg’d on.] The removal of the Pope’s residence from Rome +to Avignon is pointed at. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The Heathen.] Psalm lxxix. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. Hope not to scare God’s vengeance with a sop.] “Let not him +who hath occasioned the destruction of the church, that vessel which the +serpent brake, hope to appease the anger of the Deity by any outward acts of +religious, or rather superstitious, ceremony, such as was that, in our +poet’s time, performed by a murderer at Florence, who imagined himself +secure from vengeance, if he ate a sop of bread in wine, upon the grave of the +person murdered, within the space of nine days.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. That eagle.] He prognosticates that the Emperor of Germany will not +always continue to submit to the usurpations of the Pope, and foretells the +coming of Henry VII Duke of Luxembourg signified by the numerical figures DVX; +or, as Lombardi supposes, of Can Grande della Scala, appointed the leader of +the Ghibelline forces. It is unnecessary to point out the imitation of the +Apocalypse in the manner of this prophecy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. The Naiads.] Dante, it is observed, has been led into a mistake by a +corruption in the text of Ovid’s Metam. I. vii. 75, where he found- +Carmina Naiades non intellecta priorum; +</p> + +<p> +instead of Carmina Laiades, &c. as it has been since corrected. Lombardi +refers to Pansanias, where “the Nymphs” are spoken of as expounders +of oracles for a vindication of the poet’s accuracy. Should the reader +blame me for not departing from the error of the original (if error it be), he +may substitute +</p> + +<p> +Events shall be the Oedipus will solve, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. Elsa’s numbing waters.] The Elsa, a little stream, which flows +into the Arno about twenty miles below Florence, is said to possess a +petrifying quality. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. That one brings home his staff inwreath’d with palm.] “For +the same cause that the pilgrim, returning from Palestine, brings home his +staff, or bourdon, bound with palm,” that is, to show where he has been. +</p> + +<p> +Che si reca ’I bordon di palma cinto. +</p> + +<p> +“In regard to the word bourdon, why it has been applied to a +pilgrim’s staff, it is not easy to guess. I believe, however that this +name has been given to such sort of staves, because pilgrims usually travel and +perform their pilgrimages on foot, their staves serving them instead of horses +or mules, then called bourdons and burdones, by writers in the middle +ages.” Mr. Johnes’s Translation of Joinville’s Memoirs. +Dissertation xv, by M. du Cange p. 152. 4to. edit. The word is thrice used by +Chaucer in the Romaunt of the Rose. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.0"></a>PARADISE</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.I"></a>CANTO I</h2> + +<p> +His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d,<br/> +Pierces the universe, and in one part<br/> +Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav’n,<br/> +That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,<br/> +Witness of things, which to relate again<br/> +Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence;<br/> +For that, so near approaching its desire<br/> +Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d,<br/> +That memory cannot follow. Nathless all,<br/> +That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm<br/> +Could store, shall now be matter of my song. +</p> + +<p> +Benign Apollo! this last labour aid,<br/> +And make me such a vessel of thy worth,<br/> +As thy own laurel claims of me belov’d.<br/> +Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus’ brows<br/> +Suffic’d me; henceforth there is need of both<br/> +For my remaining enterprise Do thou<br/> +Enter into my bosom, and there breathe<br/> +So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg’d<br/> +Forth from his limbs unsheath’d. O power divine!<br/> +If thou to me of shine impart so much,<br/> +That of that happy realm the shadow’d form<br/> +Trac’d in my thoughts I may set forth to view,<br/> +Thou shalt behold me of thy favour’d tree<br/> +Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves;<br/> +For to that honour thou, and my high theme<br/> +Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire!<br/> +To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath<br/> +Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills<br/> +Deprav’d) joy to the Delphic god must spring<br/> +From the Pierian foliage, when one breast<br/> +Is with such thirst inspir’d. From a small spark<br/> +Great flame hath risen: after me perchance<br/> +Others with better voice may pray, and gain<br/> +From the Cirrhaean city answer kind. +</p> + +<p> +Through diver passages, the world’s bright lamp<br/> +Rises to mortals, but through that which joins<br/> +Four circles with the threefold cross, in best<br/> +Course, and in happiest constellation set<br/> +He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives<br/> +Its temper and impression. Morning there,<br/> +Here eve was by almost such passage made;<br/> +And whiteness had o’erspread that hemisphere,<br/> +Blackness the other part; when to the left<br/> +I saw Beatrice turn’d, and on the sun<br/> +Gazing, as never eagle fix’d his ken.<br/> +As from the first a second beam is wont<br/> +To issue, and reflected upwards rise,<br/> +E’en as a pilgrim bent on his return,<br/> +So of her act, that through the eyesight pass’d<br/> +Into my fancy, mine was form’d; and straight,<br/> +Beyond our mortal wont, I fix’d mine eyes<br/> +Upon the sun. Much is allowed us there,<br/> +That here exceeds our pow’r; thanks to the place<br/> +Made for the dwelling of the human kind +</p> + +<p> +I suffer’d it not long, and yet so long<br/> +That I beheld it bick’ring sparks around,<br/> +As iron that comes boiling from the fire.<br/> +And suddenly upon the day appear’d<br/> +A day new-ris’n, as he, who hath the power,<br/> +Had with another sun bedeck’d the sky. +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes fast fix’d on the eternal wheels,<br/> +Beatrice stood unmov’d; and I with ken<br/> +Fix’d upon her, from upward gaze remov’d<br/> +At her aspect, such inwardly became<br/> +As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb,<br/> +That made him peer among the ocean gods;<br/> +Words may not tell of that transhuman change:<br/> +And therefore let the example serve, though weak,<br/> +For those whom grace hath better proof in store +</p> + +<p> +If I were only what thou didst create,<br/> +Then newly, Love! by whom the heav’n is rul’d,<br/> +Thou know’st, who by thy light didst bear me up.<br/> +Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide,<br/> +Desired Spirit! with its harmony<br/> +Temper’d of thee and measur’d, charm’d mine ear,<br/> +Then seem’d to me so much of heav’n to blaze<br/> +With the sun’s flame, that rain or flood ne’er made<br/> +A lake so broad. The newness of the sound,<br/> +And that great light, inflam’d me with desire,<br/> +Keener than e’er was felt, to know their cause. +</p> + +<p> +Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself,<br/> +To calm my troubled mind, before I ask’d,<br/> +Open’d her lips, and gracious thus began:<br/> +“With false imagination thou thyself<br/> +Mak’st dull, so that thou seest not the thing,<br/> +Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off.<br/> +Thou art not on the earth as thou believ’st;<br/> +For light’ning scap’d from its own proper place<br/> +Ne’er ran, as thou hast hither now return’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Although divested of my first-rais’d doubt,<br/> +By those brief words, accompanied with smiles,<br/> +Yet in new doubt was I entangled more,<br/> +And said: “Already satisfied, I rest<br/> +From admiration deep, but now admire<br/> +How I above those lighter bodies rise.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence, after utt’rance of a piteous sigh,<br/> +She tow’rds me bent her eyes, with such a look,<br/> +As on her frenzied child a mother casts;<br/> +Then thus began: “Among themselves all things<br/> +Have order; and from hence the form, which makes<br/> +The universe resemble God. In this<br/> +The higher creatures see the printed steps<br/> +Of that eternal worth, which is the end<br/> +Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean,<br/> +In this their order, diversely, some more,<br/> +Some less approaching to their primal source.<br/> +Thus they to different havens are mov’d on<br/> +Through the vast sea of being, and each one<br/> +With instinct giv’n, that bears it in its course;<br/> +This to the lunar sphere directs the fire,<br/> +This prompts the hearts of mortal animals,<br/> +This the brute earth together knits, and binds.<br/> +Nor only creatures, void of intellect,<br/> +Are aim’d at by this bow; hut even those,<br/> +That have intelligence and love, are pierc’d.<br/> +That Providence, who so well orders all,<br/> +With her own light makes ever calm the heaven,<br/> +In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,<br/> +Is turn’d: and thither now, as to our seat<br/> +Predestin’d, we are carried by the force<br/> +Of that strong cord, that never looses dart,<br/> +But at fair aim and glad. Yet is it true,<br/> +That as ofttimes but ill accords the form<br/> +To the design of art, through sluggishness<br/> +Of unreplying matter, so this course<br/> +Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who<br/> +Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere;<br/> +As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall,<br/> +From its original impulse warp’d, to earth,<br/> +By vicious fondness. Thou no more admire<br/> +Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse<br/> +Of torrent downwards from a mountain’s height.<br/> +There would in thee for wonder be more cause,<br/> +If, free of hind’rance, thou hadst fix’d thyself<br/> +Below, like fire unmoving on the earth.” +</p> + +<p> +So said, she turn’d toward the heav’n her face. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.II"></a>CANTO II</h2> + +<p> +All ye, who in small bark have following sail’d,<br/> +Eager to listen, on the advent’rous track<br/> +Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way,<br/> +Backward return with speed, and your own shores<br/> +Revisit, nor put out to open sea,<br/> +Where losing me, perchance ye may remain<br/> +Bewilder’d in deep maze. The way I pass<br/> +Ne’er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale,<br/> +Apollo guides me, and another Nine<br/> +To my rapt sight the arctic beams reveal.<br/> +Ye other few, who have outstretch’d the neck.<br/> +Timely for food of angels, on which here<br/> +They live, yet never know satiety,<br/> +Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out<br/> +Your vessel, marking, well the furrow broad<br/> +Before you in the wave, that on both sides<br/> +Equal returns. Those, glorious, who pass’d o’er<br/> +To Colchos, wonder’d not as ye will do,<br/> +When they saw Jason following the plough. +</p> + +<p> +The increate perpetual thirst, that draws<br/> +Toward the realm of God’s own form, bore us<br/> +Swift almost as the heaven ye behold. +</p> + +<p> +Beatrice upward gaz’d, and I on her,<br/> +And in such space as on the notch a dart<br/> +Is plac’d, then loosen’d flies, I saw myself<br/> +Arriv’d, where wond’rous thing engag’d my sight.<br/> +Whence she, to whom no work of mine was hid,<br/> +Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair,<br/> +Bespake me: “Gratefully direct thy mind<br/> +To God, through whom to this first star we come.” +</p> + +<p> +Me seem’d as if a cloud had cover’d us,<br/> +Translucent, solid, firm, and polish’d bright,<br/> +Like adamant, which the sun’s beam had smit<br/> +Within itself the ever-during pearl<br/> +Receiv’d us, as the wave a ray of light<br/> +Receives, and rests unbroken. If I then<br/> +Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend<br/> +Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus<br/> +Another could endure, which needs must be<br/> +If body enter body, how much more<br/> +Must the desire inflame us to behold<br/> +That essence, which discovers by what means<br/> +God and our nature join’d! There will be seen<br/> +That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof,<br/> +But in itself intelligibly plain,<br/> +E’en as the truth that man at first believes. +</p> + +<p> +I answered: “Lady! I with thoughts devout,<br/> +Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him,<br/> +Who hath remov’d me from the mortal world.<br/> +But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots<br/> +Upon this body, which below on earth<br/> +Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?” +</p> + +<p> +She somewhat smil’d, then spake: “If mortals err<br/> +In their opinion, when the key of sense<br/> +Unlocks not, surely wonder’s weapon keen<br/> +Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find’st, the wings<br/> +Of reason to pursue the senses’ flight<br/> +Are short. But what thy own thought is, declare.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “What various here above appears,<br/> +Is caus’d, I deem, by bodies dense or rare.” +</p> + +<p> +She then resum’d: “Thou certainly wilt see<br/> +In falsehood thy belief o’erwhelm’d, if well<br/> +Thou listen to the arguments, which I<br/> +Shall bring to face it. The eighth sphere displays<br/> +Numberless lights, the which in kind and size<br/> +May be remark’d of different aspects;<br/> +If rare or dense of that were cause alone,<br/> +One single virtue then would be in all,<br/> +Alike distributed, or more, or less.<br/> +Different virtues needs must be the fruits<br/> +Of formal principles, and these, save one,<br/> +Will by thy reasoning be destroy’d. Beside,<br/> +If rarity were of that dusk the cause,<br/> +Which thou inquirest, either in some part<br/> +That planet must throughout be void, nor fed<br/> +With its own matter; or, as bodies share<br/> +Their fat and leanness, in like manner this<br/> +Must in its volume change the leaves. The first,<br/> +If it were true, had through the sun’s eclipse<br/> +Been manifested, by transparency<br/> +Of light, as through aught rare beside effus’d.<br/> +But this is not. Therefore remains to see<br/> +The other cause: and if the other fall,<br/> +Erroneous so must prove what seem’d to thee.<br/> +If not from side to side this rarity<br/> +Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence<br/> +Its contrary no further lets it pass.<br/> +And hence the beam, that from without proceeds,<br/> +Must be pour’d back, as colour comes, through glass<br/> +Reflected, which behind it lead conceals.<br/> +Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue<br/> +Than in the other part the ray is shown,<br/> +By being thence refracted farther back.<br/> +From this perplexity will free thee soon<br/> +Experience, if thereof thou trial make,<br/> +The fountain whence your arts derive their streame.<br/> +Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove<br/> +From thee alike, and more remote the third.<br/> +Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes;<br/> +Then turn’d toward them, cause behind thy back<br/> +A light to stand, that on the three shall shine,<br/> +And thus reflected come to thee from all.<br/> +Though that beheld most distant do not stretch<br/> +A space so ample, yet in brightness thou<br/> +Will own it equaling the rest. But now,<br/> +As under snow the ground, if the warm ray<br/> +Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue<br/> +And cold, that cover’d it before, so thee,<br/> +Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform<br/> +With light so lively, that the tremulous beam<br/> +Shall quiver where it falls. Within the heaven,<br/> +Where peace divine inhabits, circles round<br/> +A body, in whose virtue dies the being<br/> +Of all that it contains. The following heaven,<br/> +That hath so many lights, this being divides,<br/> +Through different essences, from it distinct,<br/> +And yet contain’d within it. The other orbs<br/> +Their separate distinctions variously<br/> +Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt.<br/> +Thus do these organs of the world proceed,<br/> +As thou beholdest now, from step to step,<br/> +Their influences from above deriving,<br/> +And thence transmitting downwards. Mark me well,<br/> +How through this passage to the truth I ford,<br/> +The truth thou lov’st, that thou henceforth alone,<br/> +May’st know to keep the shallows, safe, untold. +</p> + +<p> +“The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs,<br/> +As mallet by the workman’s hand, must needs<br/> +By blessed movers be inspir’d. This heaven,<br/> +Made beauteous by so many luminaries,<br/> +From the deep spirit, that moves its circling sphere,<br/> +Its image takes an impress as a seal:<br/> +And as the soul, that dwells within your dust,<br/> +Through members different, yet together form’d,<br/> +In different pow’rs resolves itself; e’en so<br/> +The intellectual efficacy unfolds<br/> +Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars;<br/> +On its own unity revolving still.<br/> +Different virtue compact different<br/> +Makes with the precious body it enlivens,<br/> +With which it knits, as life in you is knit.<br/> +From its original nature full of joy,<br/> +The virtue mingled through the body shines,<br/> +As joy through pupil of the living eye.<br/> +From hence proceeds, that which from light to light<br/> +Seems different, and not from dense or rare.<br/> +This is the formal cause, that generates<br/> +Proportion’d to its power, the dusk or clear.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.III"></a>CANTO III</h2> + +<p> +That sun, which erst with love my bosom warm’d<br/> +Had of fair truth unveil’d the sweet aspect,<br/> +By proof of right, and of the false reproof;<br/> +And I, to own myself convinc’d and free<br/> +Of doubt, as much as needed, rais’d my head<br/> +Erect for speech. But soon a sight appear’d,<br/> +Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix’d,<br/> +That of confession I no longer thought. +</p> + +<p> +As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave<br/> +Clear and unmov’d, and flowing not so deep<br/> +As that its bed is dark, the shape returns<br/> +So faint of our impictur’d lineaments,<br/> +That on white forehead set a pearl as strong<br/> +Comes to the eye: such saw I many a face,<br/> +All stretch’d to speak, from whence I straight conceiv’d<br/> +Delusion opposite to that, which rais’d<br/> +Between the man and fountain, amorous flame. +</p> + +<p> +Sudden, as I perceiv’d them, deeming these<br/> +Reflected semblances to see of whom<br/> +They were, I turn’d mine eyes, and nothing saw;<br/> +Then turn’d them back, directed on the light<br/> +Of my sweet guide, who smiling shot forth beams<br/> +From her celestial eyes. “Wonder not thou,”<br/> +She cry’d, “at this my smiling, when I see<br/> +Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth<br/> +It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont,<br/> +Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy.<br/> +True substances are these, which thou behold’st,<br/> +Hither through failure of their vow exil’d.<br/> +But speak thou with them; listen, and believe,<br/> +That the true light, which fills them with desire,<br/> +Permits not from its beams their feet to stray.” +</p> + +<p> +Straight to the shadow which for converse seem’d<br/> +Most earnest, I addressed me, and began,<br/> +As one by over-eagerness perplex’d:<br/> +“O spirit, born for joy! who in the rays<br/> +Of life eternal, of that sweetness know’st<br/> +The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far<br/> +All apprehension, me it well would please,<br/> +If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this<br/> +Your station here.” Whence she, with kindness prompt,<br/> +And eyes glist’ning with smiles: “Our charity,<br/> +To any wish by justice introduc’d,<br/> +Bars not the door, no more than she above,<br/> +Who would have all her court be like herself.<br/> +I was a virgin sister in the earth;<br/> +And if thy mind observe me well, this form,<br/> +With such addition grac’d of loveliness,<br/> +Will not conceal me long, but thou wilt know<br/> +Piccarda, in the tardiest sphere thus plac’d,<br/> +Here ’mid these other blessed also blest.<br/> +Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone<br/> +With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceiv’d,<br/> +Admitted to his order dwell in joy.<br/> +And this condition, which appears so low,<br/> +Is for this cause assign’d us, that our vows<br/> +Were in some part neglected and made void.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence I to her replied: “Something divine<br/> +Beams in your countenance, wond’rous fair,<br/> +From former knowledge quite transmuting you.<br/> +Therefore to recollect was I so slow.<br/> +But what thou sayst hath to my memory<br/> +Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms<br/> +Is easier. Yet inform me, ye, who here<br/> +Are happy, long ye for a higher place<br/> +More to behold, and more in love to dwell?” +</p> + +<p> +She with those other spirits gently smil’d,<br/> +Then answer’d with such gladness, that she seem’d<br/> +With love’s first flame to glow: “Brother! our will<br/> +Is in composure settled by the power<br/> +Of charity, who makes us will alone<br/> +What we possess, and nought beyond desire;<br/> +If we should wish to be exalted more,<br/> +Then must our wishes jar with the high will<br/> +Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs<br/> +Thou wilt confess not possible, if here<br/> +To be in charity must needs befall,<br/> +And if her nature well thou contemplate.<br/> +Rather it is inherent in this state<br/> +Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within<br/> +The divine will, by which our wills with his<br/> +Are one. So that as we from step to step<br/> +Are plac’d throughout this kingdom, pleases all,<br/> +E’en as our King, who in us plants his will;<br/> +And in his will is our tranquillity;<br/> +It is the mighty ocean, whither tends<br/> +Whatever it creates and nature makes.” +</p> + +<p> +Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav’n<br/> +Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew<br/> +The supreme virtue show’r not over all. +</p> + +<p> +But as it chances, if one sort of food<br/> +Hath satiated, and of another still<br/> +The appetite remains, that this is ask’d,<br/> +And thanks for that return’d; e’en so did I<br/> +In word and motion, bent from her to learn<br/> +What web it was, through which she had not drawn<br/> +The shuttle to its point. She thus began:<br/> +“Exalted worth and perfectness of life<br/> +The Lady higher up enshrine in heaven,<br/> +By whose pure laws upon your nether earth<br/> +The robe and veil they wear, to that intent,<br/> +That e’en till death they may keep watch or sleep<br/> +With their great bridegroom, who accepts each vow,<br/> +Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms.<br/> +from the world, to follow her, when young<br/> +Escap’d; and, in her vesture mantling me,<br/> +Made promise of the way her sect enjoins.<br/> +Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt,<br/> +Forth snatch’d me from the pleasant cloister’s pale.<br/> +God knows how after that my life was fram’d.<br/> +This other splendid shape, which thou beholdst<br/> +At my right side, burning with all the light<br/> +Of this our orb, what of myself I tell<br/> +May to herself apply. From her, like me<br/> +A sister, with like violence were torn<br/> +The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows.<br/> +E’en when she to the world again was brought<br/> +In spite of her own will and better wont,<br/> +Yet not for that the bosom’s inward veil<br/> +Did she renounce. This is the luminary<br/> +Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast,<br/> +Which blew the second over Suabia’s realm,<br/> +That power produc’d, which was the third and last.” +</p> + +<p> +She ceas’d from further talk, and then began<br/> +“Ave Maria” singing, and with that song<br/> +Vanish’d, as heavy substance through deep wave. +</p> + +<p> +Mine eye, that far as it was capable,<br/> +Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost,<br/> +Turn’d to the mark where greater want impell’d,<br/> +And bent on Beatrice all its gaze.<br/> +But she as light’ning beam’d upon my looks:<br/> +So that the sight sustain’d it not at first.<br/> +Whence I to question her became less prompt. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.IV"></a>CANTO IV</h2> + +<p> +Between two kinds of food, both equally<br/> +Remote and tempting, first a man might die<br/> +Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.<br/> +E’en so would stand a lamb between the maw<br/> +Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike:<br/> +E’en so between two deer a dog would stand,<br/> +Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise<br/> +I to myself impute, by equal doubts<br/> +Held in suspense, since of necessity<br/> +It happen’d. Silent was I, yet desire<br/> +Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake<br/> +My wish more earnestly than language could. +</p> + +<p> +As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed<br/> +From ire, that spurr’d him on to deeds unjust<br/> +And violent; so look’d Beatrice then. +</p> + +<p> +“Well I discern,” she thus her words address’d,<br/> +“How contrary desires each way constrain thee,<br/> +So that thy anxious thought is in itself<br/> +Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.<br/> +Thou arguest; if the good intent remain;<br/> +What reason that another’s violence<br/> +Should stint the measure of my fair desert? +</p> + +<p> +“Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,<br/> +That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem’d,<br/> +Return. These are the questions which thy will<br/> +Urge equally; and therefore I the first<br/> +Of that will treat which hath the more of gall.<br/> +Of seraphim he who is most ensky’d,<br/> +Moses and Samuel, and either John,<br/> +Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary’s self,<br/> +Have not in any other heav’n their seats,<br/> +Than have those spirits which so late thou saw’st;<br/> +Nor more or fewer years exist; but all<br/> +Make the first circle beauteous, diversely<br/> +Partaking of sweet life, as more or less<br/> +Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them.<br/> +Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns<br/> +This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee<br/> +Of that celestial furthest from the height.<br/> +Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak:<br/> +Since from things sensible alone ye learn<br/> +That, which digested rightly after turns<br/> +To intellectual. For no other cause<br/> +The scripture, condescending graciously<br/> +To your perception, hands and feet to God<br/> +Attributes, nor so means: and holy church<br/> +Doth represent with human countenance<br/> +Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made<br/> +Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest,<br/> +The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms<br/> +Each soul restor’d to its particular star,<br/> +Believing it to have been taken thence,<br/> +When nature gave it to inform her mold:<br/> +Since to appearance his intention is<br/> +E’en what his words declare: or else to shun<br/> +Derision, haply thus he hath disguis’d<br/> +His true opinion. If his meaning be,<br/> +That to the influencing of these orbs revert<br/> +The honour and the blame in human acts,<br/> +Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth.<br/> +This principle, not understood aright,<br/> +Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world;<br/> +So that it fell to fabled names of Jove,<br/> +And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt,<br/> +Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings<br/> +No peril of removing thee from me. +</p> + +<p> +“That, to the eye of man, our justice seems<br/> +Unjust, is argument for faith, and not<br/> +For heretic declension. To the end<br/> +This truth may stand more clearly in your view,<br/> +I will content thee even to thy wish +</p> + +<p> +“If violence be, when that which suffers, nought<br/> +Consents to that which forceth, not for this<br/> +These spirits stood exculpate. For the will,<br/> +That will not, still survives unquench’d, and doth<br/> +As nature doth in fire, tho’ violence<br/> +Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield<br/> +Or more or less, so far it follows force.<br/> +And thus did these, whom they had power to seek<br/> +The hallow’d place again. In them, had will<br/> +Been perfect, such as once upon the bars<br/> +Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola<br/> +To his own hand remorseless, to the path,<br/> +Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten’d back,<br/> +When liberty return’d: but in too few<br/> +Resolve so steadfast dwells. And by these words<br/> +If duly weigh’d, that argument is void,<br/> +Which oft might have perplex’d thee still. But now<br/> +Another question thwarts thee, which to solve<br/> +Might try thy patience without better aid.<br/> +I have, no doubt, instill’d into thy mind,<br/> +That blessed spirit may not lie; since near<br/> +The source of primal truth it dwells for aye:<br/> +And thou might’st after of Piccarda learn<br/> +That Constance held affection to the veil;<br/> +So that she seems to contradict me here.<br/> +Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc’d for men<br/> +To do what they had gladly left undone,<br/> +Yet to shun peril they have done amiss:<br/> +E’en as Alcmaeon, at his father’s suit<br/> +Slew his own mother, so made pitiless<br/> +Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee,<br/> +That force and will are blended in such wise<br/> +As not to make the’ offence excusable.<br/> +Absolute will agrees not to the wrong,<br/> +That inasmuch as there is fear of woe<br/> +From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will<br/> +Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I<br/> +Of th’ other; so that both have truly said.” +</p> + +<p> +Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well’d<br/> +From forth the fountain of all truth; and such<br/> +The rest, that to my wond’ring thoughts l found. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou of primal love the prime delight!<br/> +Goddess! “I straight reply’d, “whose lively words<br/> +Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul!<br/> +Affection fails me to requite thy grace<br/> +With equal sum of gratitude: be his<br/> +To recompense, who sees and can reward thee.<br/> +Well I discern, that by that truth alone<br/> +Enlighten’d, beyond which no truth may roam,<br/> +Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know:<br/> +Therein she resteth, e’en as in his lair<br/> +The wild beast, soon as she hath reach’d that bound,<br/> +And she hath power to reach it; else desire<br/> +Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt<br/> +Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth;<br/> +And it is nature which from height to height<br/> +On to the summit prompts us. This invites,<br/> +This doth assure me, lady, rev’rently<br/> +To ask thee of other truth, that yet<br/> +Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man<br/> +By other works well done may so supply<br/> +The failure of his vows, that in your scale<br/> +They lack not weight.” I spake; and on me straight<br/> +Beatrice look’d with eyes that shot forth sparks<br/> +Of love celestial in such copious stream,<br/> +That, virtue sinking in me overpower’d,<br/> +I turn’d, and downward bent confus’d my sight. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.V"></a>CANTO V</h2> + +<p> +“If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love<br/> +Illume me, so that I o’ercome thy power<br/> +Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause<br/> +In that perfection of the sight, which soon<br/> +As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach<br/> +The good it apprehends. I well discern,<br/> +How in thine intellect already shines<br/> +The light eternal, which to view alone<br/> +Ne’er fails to kindle love; and if aught else<br/> +Your love seduces, ’tis but that it shows<br/> +Some ill-mark’d vestige of that primal beam. +</p> + +<p> +“This would’st thou know, if failure of the vow<br/> +By other service may be so supplied,<br/> +As from self-question to assure the soul.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,<br/> +Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off<br/> +Discourse, continued in her saintly strain.<br/> +“Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave<br/> +Of his free bounty, sign most evident<br/> +Of goodness, and in his account most priz’d,<br/> +Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith<br/> +All intellectual creatures, and them sole<br/> +He hath endow’d. Hence now thou mayst infer<br/> +Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram’d<br/> +That when man offers, God well-pleas’d accepts;<br/> +For in the compact between God and him,<br/> +This treasure, such as I describe it to thee,<br/> +He makes the victim, and of his own act.<br/> +What compensation therefore may he find?<br/> +If that, whereof thou hast oblation made,<br/> +By using well thou think’st to consecrate,<br/> +Thou would’st of theft do charitable deed.<br/> +Thus I resolve thee of the greater point. +</p> + +<p> +“But forasmuch as holy church, herein<br/> +Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth<br/> +I have discover’d to thee, yet behooves<br/> +Thou rest a little longer at the board,<br/> +Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken,<br/> +Digested fitly to nutrition turn.<br/> +Open thy mind to what I now unfold,<br/> +And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comes<br/> +Of learning well retain’d, unfruitful else. +</p> + +<p> +“This sacrifice in essence of two things<br/> +Consisteth; one is that, whereof ’tis made,<br/> +The covenant the other. For the last,<br/> +It ne’er is cancell’d if not kept: and hence<br/> +I spake erewhile so strictly of its force.<br/> +For this it was enjoin’d the Israelites,<br/> +Though leave were giv’n them, as thou know’st, to change<br/> +The offering, still to offer. Th’ other part,<br/> +The matter and the substance of the vow,<br/> +May well be such, to that without offence<br/> +It may for other substance be exchang’d.<br/> +But at his own discretion none may shift<br/> +The burden on his shoulders, unreleas’d<br/> +By either key, the yellow and the white.<br/> +Nor deem of any change, as less than vain,<br/> +If the last bond be not within the new<br/> +Included, as the quatre in the six.<br/> +No satisfaction therefore can be paid<br/> +For what so precious in the balance weighs,<br/> +That all in counterpoise must kick the beam.<br/> +Take then no vow at random: ta’en, with faith<br/> +Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once,<br/> +Blindly to execute a rash resolve,<br/> +Whom better it had suited to exclaim,<br/> +‘I have done ill,’ than to redeem his pledge<br/> +By doing worse or, not unlike to him<br/> +In folly, that great leader of the Greeks:<br/> +Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn’d<br/> +Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn<br/> +Both wise and simple, even all, who hear<br/> +Of so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid,<br/> +O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind<br/> +Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves<br/> +In every water. Either testament,<br/> +The old and new, is yours: and for your guide<br/> +The shepherd of the church let this suffice<br/> +To save you. When by evil lust entic’d,<br/> +Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts;<br/> +Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets,<br/> +Hold you in mock’ry. Be not, as the lamb,<br/> +That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother’s milk,<br/> +To dally with itself in idle play.” +</p> + +<p> +Such were the words that Beatrice spake:<br/> +These ended, to that region, where the world<br/> +Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +Though mainly prompt new question to propose,<br/> +Her silence and chang’d look did keep me dumb.<br/> +And as the arrow, ere the cord is still,<br/> +Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped<br/> +Into the second realm. There I beheld<br/> +The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb<br/> +Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star<br/> +Were mov’d to gladness, what then was my cheer,<br/> +Whom nature hath made apt for every change! +</p> + +<p> +As in a quiet and clear lake the fish,<br/> +If aught approach them from without, do draw<br/> +Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew<br/> +Full more than thousand splendours towards us,<br/> +And in each one was heard: “Lo! one arriv’d<br/> +To multiply our loves!” and as each came<br/> +The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new,<br/> +Witness’d augmented joy. Here, reader! think,<br/> +If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale,<br/> +To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave;<br/> +And thou shalt see what vehement desire<br/> +Possess’d me, as soon as these had met my view,<br/> +To know their state. “O born in happy hour!<br/> +Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy close<br/> +Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones<br/> +Of that eternal triumph, know to us<br/> +The light communicated, which through heaven<br/> +Expatiates without bound. Therefore, if aught<br/> +Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid,<br/> +Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me;<br/> +And Beatrice next: “Say on; and trust<br/> +As unto gods!”—“How in the light supreme<br/> +Thou harbour’st, and from thence the virtue bring’st,<br/> +That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy,<br/> +l mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek;<br/> +Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lot<br/> +This sphere assign’d, that oft from mortal ken<br/> +Is veil’d by others’ beams.” I said, and turn’d<br/> +Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind<br/> +Erewhile had hail’d me. Forthwith brighter far<br/> +Than erst, it wax’d: and, as himself the sun<br/> +Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze<br/> +Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey’d;<br/> +Within its proper ray the saintly shape<br/> +Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal’d;<br/> +And, shrouded so in splendour answer’d me,<br/> +E’en as the tenour of my song declares. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.VI"></a>CANTO VI</h2> + +<p> +“After that Constantine the eagle turn’d<br/> +Against the motions of the heav’n, that roll’d<br/> +Consenting with its course, when he of yore,<br/> +Lavinia’s spouse, was leader of the flight,<br/> +A hundred years twice told and more, his seat<br/> +At Europe’s extreme point, the bird of Jove<br/> +Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first.<br/> +There, under shadow of his sacred plumes<br/> +Swaying the world, till through successive hands<br/> +To mine he came devolv’d. Caesar I was,<br/> +And am Justinian; destin’d by the will<br/> +Of that prime love, whose influence I feel,<br/> +From vain excess to clear th’ encumber’d laws.<br/> +Or ere that work engag’d me, I did hold<br/> +Christ’s nature merely human, with such faith<br/> +Contented. But the blessed Agapete,<br/> +Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice<br/> +To the true faith recall’d me. I believ’d<br/> +His words: and what he taught, now plainly see,<br/> +As thou in every contradiction seest<br/> +The true and false oppos’d. Soon as my feet<br/> +Were to the church reclaim’d, to my great task,<br/> +By inspiration of God’s grace impell’d,<br/> +I gave me wholly, and consign’d mine arms<br/> +To Belisarius, with whom heaven’s right hand<br/> +Was link’d in such conjointment, ’twas a sign<br/> +That I should rest. To thy first question thus<br/> +I shape mine answer, which were ended here,<br/> +But that its tendency doth prompt perforce<br/> +To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark<br/> +What reason on each side they have to plead,<br/> +By whom that holiest banner is withstood,<br/> +Both who pretend its power and who oppose.<br/> +Â Â Â Â “Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died<br/> +To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds<br/> +Have made it worthy reverence. Not unknown<br/> +To thee, how for three hundred years and more<br/> +It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists<br/> +Where for its sake were met the rival three;<br/> +Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev’d<br/> +Down to the Sabines’ wrong to Lucrece’ woe,<br/> +With its sev’n kings conqu’ring the nation round;<br/> +Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home<br/> +’Gainst Brennus and th’ Epirot prince, and hosts<br/> +Of single chiefs, or states in league combin’d<br/> +Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern,<br/> +And Quintius nam’d of his neglected locks,<br/> +The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir’d<br/> +Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm.<br/> +By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell’d,<br/> +When they led on by Hannibal o’erpass’d<br/> +The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po!<br/> +Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days<br/> +Scipio and Pompey triumph’d; and that hill,<br/> +Under whose summit thou didst see the light,<br/> +Rued its stern bearing. After, near the hour,<br/> +When heav’n was minded that o’er all the world<br/> +His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar’s hand<br/> +Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought<br/> +From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere’s flood,<br/> +Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills<br/> +The torrent Rhone. What after that it wrought,<br/> +When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap’d<br/> +The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight,<br/> +That tongue nor pen may follow it. Tow’rds Spain<br/> +It wheel’d its bands, then tow’rd Dyrrachium smote,<br/> +And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge,<br/> +E’en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang;<br/> +Its native shores Antandros, and the streams<br/> +Of Simois revisited, and there<br/> +Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy<br/> +His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell<br/> +On Juba; and the next upon your west,<br/> +At sound of the Pompeian trump, return’d. +</p> + +<p> +“What following and in its next bearer’s gripe<br/> +It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus<br/> +Bark’d off in hell, and by Perugia’s sons<br/> +And Modena’s was mourn’d. Hence weepeth still<br/> +Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it,<br/> +Took from the adder black and sudden death.<br/> +With him it ran e’en to the Red Sea coast;<br/> +With him compos’d the world to such a peace,<br/> +That of his temple Janus barr’d the door. +</p> + +<p> +“But all the mighty standard yet had wrought,<br/> +And was appointed to perform thereafter,<br/> +Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway’d,<br/> +Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur’d,<br/> +If one with steady eye and perfect thought<br/> +On the third Caesar look; for to his hands,<br/> +The living Justice, in whose breath I move,<br/> +Committed glory, e’en into his hands,<br/> +To execute the vengeance of its wrath. +</p> + +<p> +“Hear now and wonder at what next I tell.<br/> +After with Titus it was sent to wreak<br/> +Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin,<br/> +And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure,<br/> +Did gore the bosom of the holy church,<br/> +Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne<br/> +Sped to her rescue. Judge then for thyself<br/> +Of those, whom I erewhile accus’d to thee,<br/> +What they are, and how grievous their offending,<br/> +Who are the cause of all your ills. The one<br/> +Against the universal ensign rears<br/> +The yellow lilies, and with partial aim<br/> +That to himself the other arrogates:<br/> +So that ’tis hard to see which more offends.<br/> +Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts<br/> +Beneath another standard: ill is this<br/> +Follow’d of him, who severs it and justice:<br/> +And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown’d Charles<br/> +Assail it, but those talons hold in dread,<br/> +Which from a lion of more lofty port<br/> +Have rent the easing. Many a time ere now<br/> +The sons have for the sire’s transgression wail’d;<br/> +Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav’n<br/> +Will truck its armour for his lilied shield. +</p> + +<p> +“This little star is furnish’d with good spirits,<br/> +Whose mortal lives were busied to that end,<br/> +That honour and renown might wait on them:<br/> +And, when desires thus err in their intention,<br/> +True love must needs ascend with slacker beam.<br/> +But it is part of our delight, to measure<br/> +Our wages with the merit; and admire<br/> +The close proportion. Hence doth heav’nly justice<br/> +Temper so evenly affection in us,<br/> +It ne’er can warp to any wrongfulness.<br/> +Of diverse voices is sweet music made:<br/> +So in our life the different degrees<br/> +Render sweet harmony among these wheels. +</p> + +<p> +“Within the pearl, that now encloseth us,<br/> +Shines Romeo’s light, whose goodly deed and fair<br/> +Met ill acceptance. But the Provencals,<br/> +That were his foes, have little cause for mirth.<br/> +Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong<br/> +Of other’s worth. Four daughters were there born<br/> +To Raymond Berenger, and every one<br/> +Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo,<br/> +Though of mean state and from a foreign land.<br/> +Yet envious tongues incited him to ask<br/> +A reckoning of that just one, who return’d<br/> +Twelve fold to him for ten. Aged and poor<br/> +He parted thence: and if the world did know<br/> +The heart he had, begging his life by morsels,<br/> +’Twould deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.VII"></a>CANTO VII</h2> + +<p> +“Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth<br/> +Superillustrans claritate tua<br/> +Felices ignes horum malahoth!”<br/> +Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright<br/> +With fourfold lustre to its orb again,<br/> +Revolving; and the rest unto their dance<br/> +With it mov’d also; and like swiftest sparks,<br/> +In sudden distance from my sight were veil’d. +</p> + +<p> +Me doubt possess’d, and “Speak,” it whisper’d me,<br/> +“Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench<br/> +Thy thirst with drops of sweetness.” Yet blank awe,<br/> +Which lords it o’er me, even at the sound<br/> +Of Beatrice’s name, did bow me down<br/> +As one in slumber held. Not long that mood<br/> +Beatrice suffer’d: she, with such a smile,<br/> +As might have made one blest amid the flames,<br/> +Beaming upon me, thus her words began:<br/> +“Thou in thy thought art pond’ring (as I deem,<br/> +And what I deem is truth how just revenge<br/> +Could be with justice punish’d: from which doubt<br/> +I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words;<br/> +For they of weighty matter shall possess thee. +</p> + +<p> +“That man, who was unborn, himself condemn’d,<br/> +And, in himself, all, who since him have liv’d,<br/> +His offspring: whence, below, the human kind<br/> +Lay sick in grievous error many an age;<br/> +Until it pleas’d the Word of God to come<br/> +Amongst them down, to his own person joining<br/> +The nature, from its Maker far estrang’d,<br/> +By the mere act of his eternal love.<br/> +Contemplate here the wonder I unfold.<br/> +The nature with its Maker thus conjoin’d,<br/> +Created first was blameless, pure and good;<br/> +But through itself alone was driven forth<br/> +From Paradise, because it had eschew’d<br/> +The way of truth and life, to evil turn’d.<br/> +Ne’er then was penalty so just as that<br/> +Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard<br/> +The nature in assumption doom’d: ne’er wrong<br/> +So great, in reference to him, who took<br/> +Such nature on him, and endur’d the doom.<br/> +God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased:<br/> +So different effects flow’d from one act,<br/> +And heav’n was open’d, though the earth did quake.<br/> +Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear<br/> +That a just vengeance was by righteous court<br/> +Justly reveng’d. But yet I see thy mind<br/> +By thought on thought arising sore perplex’d,<br/> +And with how vehement desire it asks<br/> +Solution of the maze. What I have heard,<br/> +Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way<br/> +For our redemption chose, eludes my search. +</p> + +<p> +“Brother! no eye of man not perfected,<br/> +Nor fully ripen’d in the flame of love,<br/> +May fathom this decree. It is a mark,<br/> +In sooth, much aim’d at, and but little kenn’d:<br/> +And I will therefore show thee why such way<br/> +Was worthiest. The celestial love, that spume<br/> +All envying in its bounty, in itself<br/> +With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth<br/> +All beauteous things eternal. What distils<br/> +Immediate thence, no end of being knows,<br/> +Bearing its seal immutably impress’d.<br/> +Whatever thence immediate falls, is free,<br/> +Free wholly, uncontrollable by power<br/> +Of each thing new: by such conformity<br/> +More grateful to its author, whose bright beams,<br/> +Though all partake their shining, yet in those<br/> +Are liveliest, which resemble him the most.<br/> +These tokens of pre-eminence on man<br/> +Largely bestow’d, if any of them fail,<br/> +He needs must forfeit his nobility,<br/> +No longer stainless. Sin alone is that,<br/> +Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike<br/> +To the chief good; for that its light in him<br/> +Is darken’d. And to dignity thus lost<br/> +Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void,<br/> +He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain.<br/> +Your nature, which entirely in its seed<br/> +Trangress’d, from these distinctions fell, no less<br/> +Than from its state in Paradise; nor means<br/> +Found of recovery (search all methods out<br/> +As strickly as thou may) save one of these,<br/> +The only fords were left through which to wade,<br/> +Either that God had of his courtesy<br/> +Releas’d him merely, or else man himself<br/> +For his own folly by himself aton’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst,<br/> +On th’ everlasting counsel, and explore,<br/> +Instructed by my words, the dread abyss. +</p> + +<p> +“Man in himself had ever lack’d the means<br/> +Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop<br/> +Obeying, in humility so low,<br/> +As high he, disobeying, thought to soar:<br/> +And for this reason he had vainly tried<br/> +Out of his own sufficiency to pay<br/> +The rigid satisfaction. Then behooved<br/> +That God should by his own ways lead him back<br/> +Unto the life, from whence he fell, restor’d:<br/> +By both his ways, I mean, or one alone.<br/> +But since the deed is ever priz’d the more,<br/> +The more the doer’s good intent appears,<br/> +Goodness celestial, whose broad signature<br/> +Is on the universe, of all its ways<br/> +To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none,<br/> +Nor aught so vast or so magnificent,<br/> +Either for him who gave or who receiv’d<br/> +Between the last night and the primal day,<br/> +Was or can be. For God more bounty show’d.<br/> +Giving himself to make man capable<br/> +Of his return to life, than had the terms<br/> +Been mere and unconditional release.<br/> +And for his justice, every method else<br/> +Were all too scant, had not the Son of God<br/> +Humbled himself to put on mortal flesh. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, to fulfil each wish of thine, remains<br/> +I somewhat further to thy view unfold.<br/> +That thou mayst see as clearly as myself. +</p> + +<p> +“I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see,<br/> +The earth and water, and all things of them<br/> +Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon<br/> +Dissolve. Yet these were also things create,<br/> +Because, if what were told me, had been true<br/> +They from corruption had been therefore free. +</p> + +<p> +“The angels, O my brother! and this clime<br/> +Wherein thou art, impassible and pure,<br/> +I call created, as indeed they are<br/> +In their whole being. But the elements,<br/> +Which thou hast nam’d, and what of them is made,<br/> +Are by created virtue’ inform’d: create<br/> +Their substance, and create the’ informing virtue<br/> +In these bright stars, that round them circling move<br/> +The soul of every brute and of each plant,<br/> +The ray and motion of the sacred lights,<br/> +With complex potency attract and turn.<br/> +But this our life the’ eternal good inspires<br/> +Immediate, and enamours of itself;<br/> +So that our wishes rest for ever here. +</p> + +<p> +“And hence thou mayst by inference conclude<br/> +Our resurrection certain, if thy mind<br/> +Consider how the human flesh was fram’d,<br/> +When both our parents at the first were made.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.VIII"></a>CANTO VIII</h2> + +<p> +The world was in its day of peril dark<br/> +Wont to believe the dotage of fond love<br/> +From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls<br/> +In her third epicycle, shed on men<br/> +By stream of potent radiance: therefore they<br/> +Of elder time, in their old error blind,<br/> +Not her alone with sacrifice ador’d<br/> +And invocation, but like honours paid<br/> +To Cupid and Dione, deem’d of them<br/> +Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign’d<br/> +To sit in Dido’s bosom: and from her,<br/> +Whom I have sung preluding, borrow’d they<br/> +The appellation of that star, which views,<br/> +Now obvious and now averse, the sun. +</p> + +<p> +I was not ware that I was wafted up<br/> +Into its orb; but the new loveliness<br/> +That grac’d my lady, gave me ample proof<br/> +That we had entered there. And as in flame<br/> +A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice<br/> +Discern’d, when one its even tenour keeps,<br/> +The other comes and goes; so in that light<br/> +I other luminaries saw, that cours’d<br/> +In circling motion. rapid more or less,<br/> +As their eternal phases each impels. +</p> + +<p> +Never was blast from vapour charged with cold,<br/> +Whether invisible to eye or no,<br/> +Descended with such speed, it had not seem’d<br/> +To linger in dull tardiness, compar’d<br/> +To those celestial lights, that tow’rds us came,<br/> +Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring,<br/> +Conducted by the lofty seraphim.<br/> +And after them, who in the van appear’d,<br/> +Such an hosanna sounded, as hath left<br/> +Desire, ne’er since extinct in me, to hear<br/> +Renew’d the strain. Then parting from the rest<br/> +One near us drew, and sole began: “We all<br/> +Are ready at thy pleasure, well dispos’d<br/> +To do thee gentle service. We are they,<br/> +To whom thou in the world erewhile didst Sing<br/> +‘O ye! whose intellectual ministry<br/> +Moves the third heaven!’ and in one orb we roll,<br/> +One motion, one impulse, with those who rule<br/> +Princedoms in heaven; yet are of love so full,<br/> +That to please thee ’twill be as sweet to rest.” +</p> + +<p> +After mine eyes had with meek reverence<br/> +Sought the celestial guide, and were by her<br/> +Assur’d, they turn’d again unto the light<br/> +Who had so largely promis’d, and with voice<br/> +That bare the lively pressure of my zeal,<br/> +“Tell who ye are,” I cried. Forthwith it grew<br/> +In size and splendour, through augmented joy;<br/> +And thus it answer’d: “A short date below<br/> +The world possess’d me. Had the time been more,<br/> +Much evil, that will come, had never chanc’d.<br/> +My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine .<br/> +Around, and shroud me, as an animal<br/> +In its own silk enswath’d. Thou lov’dst me well,<br/> +And had’st good cause; for had my sojourning<br/> +Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee<br/> +Had put forth more than blossoms. The left bank,<br/> +That Rhone, when he hath mix’d with Sorga, laves.<br/> +In me its lord expected, and that horn<br/> +Of fair Ausonia, with its boroughs old,<br/> +Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta pil’d,<br/> +From where the Trento disembogues his waves,<br/> +With Verde mingled, to the salt sea-flood.<br/> +Already on my temples beam’d the crown,<br/> +Which gave me sov’reignty over the land<br/> +By Danube wash’d, whenas he strays beyond<br/> +The limits of his German shores. The realm,<br/> +Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash’d,<br/> +Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights,<br/> +The beautiful Trinacria lies in gloom<br/> +(Not through Typhaeus, but the vap’ry cloud<br/> +Bituminous upsteam’d), THAT too did look<br/> +To have its scepter wielded by a race<br/> +Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Rodolph;<br/> +had not ill lording which doth spirit up<br/> +The people ever, in Palermo rais’d<br/> +The shout of ‘death,’ re-echo’d loud and long.<br/> +Had but my brother’s foresight kenn’d as much,<br/> +He had been warier that the greedy want<br/> +Of Catalonia might not work his bale.<br/> +And truly need there is, that he forecast,<br/> +Or other for him, lest more freight be laid<br/> +On his already over-laden bark.<br/> +Nature in him, from bounty fall’n to thrift,<br/> +Would ask the guard of braver arms, than such<br/> +As only care to have their coffers fill’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“My liege, it doth enhance the joy thy words<br/> +Infuse into me, mighty as it is,<br/> +To think my gladness manifest to thee,<br/> +As to myself, who own it, when thou lookst<br/> +Into the source and limit of all good,<br/> +There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak,<br/> +Thence priz’d of me the more. Glad thou hast made me.<br/> +Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt<br/> +Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse,<br/> +How bitter can spring up, when sweet is sown.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied:<br/> +“If I have power to show one truth, soon that<br/> +Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares<br/> +Behind thee now conceal’d. The Good, that guides<br/> +And blessed makes this realm, which thou dost mount,<br/> +Ordains its providence to be the virtue<br/> +In these great bodies: nor th’ all perfect Mind<br/> +Upholds their nature merely, but in them<br/> +Their energy to save: for nought, that lies<br/> +Within the range of that unerring bow,<br/> +But is as level with the destin’d aim,<br/> +As ever mark to arrow’s point oppos’d.<br/> +Were it not thus, these heavens, thou dost visit,<br/> +Would their effect so work, it would not be<br/> +Art, but destruction; and this may not chance,<br/> +If th’ intellectual powers, that move these stars,<br/> +Fail not, or who, first faulty made them fail.<br/> +Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenc’d?” +</p> + +<p> +To whom I thus: “It is enough: no fear,<br/> +I see, lest nature in her part should tire.” +</p> + +<p> +He straight rejoin’d: “Say, were it worse for man,<br/> +If he liv’d not in fellowship on earth?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yea,” answer’d I; “nor here a reason needs.” +</p> + +<p> +“And may that be, if different estates<br/> +Grow not of different duties in your life?<br/> +Consult your teacher, and he tells you ‘no.’” +</p> + +<p> +Thus did he come, deducing to this point,<br/> +And then concluded: “For this cause behooves,<br/> +The roots, from whence your operations come,<br/> +Must differ. Therefore one is Solon born;<br/> +Another, Xerxes; and Melchisidec<br/> +A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage<br/> +Cost him his son. In her circuitous course,<br/> +Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax,<br/> +Doth well her art, but no distinctions owns<br/> +’Twixt one or other household. Hence befalls<br/> +That Esau is so wide of Jacob: hence<br/> +Quirinus of so base a father springs,<br/> +He dates from Mars his lineage. Were it not<br/> +That providence celestial overrul’d,<br/> +Nature, in generation, must the path<br/> +Trac’d by the generator, still pursue<br/> +Unswervingly. Thus place I in thy sight<br/> +That, which was late behind thee. But, in sign<br/> +Of more affection for thee, ’tis my will<br/> +Thou wear this corollary. Nature ever<br/> +Finding discordant fortune, like all seed<br/> +Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill.<br/> +And were the world below content to mark<br/> +And work on the foundation nature lays,<br/> +It would not lack supply of excellence.<br/> +But ye perversely to religion strain<br/> +Him, who was born to gird on him the sword,<br/> +And of the fluent phrasemen make your king;<br/> +Therefore your steps have wander’d from the paths.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.IX"></a>CANTO IX</h2> + +<p> +After solution of my doubt, thy Charles,<br/> +O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake<br/> +That must befall his seed: but, “Tell it not,”<br/> +Said he, “and let the destin’d years come round.”<br/> +Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed<br/> +Of sorrow well-deserv’d shall quit your wrongs. +</p> + +<p> +And now the visage of that saintly light<br/> +Was to the sun, that fills it, turn’d again,<br/> +As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss<br/> +Sufficeth all. O ye misguided souls!<br/> +Infatuate, who from such a good estrange<br/> +Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity,<br/> +Alas for you!—And lo! toward me, next,<br/> +Another of those splendent forms approach’d,<br/> +That, by its outward bright’ning, testified<br/> +The will it had to pleasure me. The eyes<br/> +Of Beatrice, resting, as before,<br/> +Firmly upon me, manifested forth<br/> +Approva1 of my wish. “And O,” I cried,<br/> +Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform’d;<br/> +And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts<br/> +I can reflect on thee.” Thereat the light,<br/> +That yet was new to me, from the recess,<br/> +Where it before was singing, thus began,<br/> +As one who joys in kindness: “In that part<br/> +Of the deprav’d Italian land, which lies<br/> +Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs<br/> +Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise,<br/> +But to no lofty eminence, a hill,<br/> +From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend,<br/> +That sorely sheet the region. From one root<br/> +I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza:<br/> +And here I glitter, for that by its light<br/> +This star o’ercame me. Yet I naught repine,<br/> +Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot,<br/> +Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive. +</p> + +<p> +“This jewel, that is next me in our heaven,<br/> +Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left,<br/> +And not to perish, ere these hundred years<br/> +Five times absolve their round. Consider thou,<br/> +If to excel be worthy man’s endeavour,<br/> +When such life may attend the first. Yet they<br/> +Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt<br/> +By Adice and Tagliamento, still<br/> +Impenitent, tho’ scourg’d. The hour is near,<br/> +When for their stubbornness at Padua’s marsh<br/> +The water shall be chang’d, that laves Vicena<br/> +And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one<br/> +Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom<br/> +The web is now a-warping. Feltro too<br/> +Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd’s fault,<br/> +Of so deep stain, that never, for the like,<br/> +Was Malta’s bar unclos’d. Too large should be<br/> +The skillet, that would hold Ferrara’s blood,<br/> +And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weight it,<br/> +The which this priest, in show of party-zeal,<br/> +Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit<br/> +The country’s custom. We descry above,<br/> +Mirrors, ye call them thrones, from which to us<br/> +Reflected shine the judgments of our God:<br/> +Whence these our sayings we avouch for good.” +</p> + +<p> +She ended, and appear’d on other thoughts<br/> +Intent, re-ent’ring on the wheel she late<br/> +Had left. That other joyance meanwhile wax’d<br/> +A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing,<br/> +Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun,<br/> +For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes<br/> +Of gladness, as here laughter: and below,<br/> +As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade. +</p> + +<p> +“God seeth all: and in him is thy sight,”<br/> +Said I, “blest Spirit! Therefore will of his<br/> +Cannot to thee be dark. Why then delays<br/> +Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold,<br/> +That voice which joins the inexpressive song,<br/> +Pastime of heav’n, the which those ardours sing,<br/> +That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread?<br/> +I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known<br/> +To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known.” +</p> + +<p> +He forthwith answ’ring, thus his words began:<br/> +“The valley’ of waters, widest next to that<br/> +Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course,<br/> +Between discordant shores, against the sun<br/> +Inward so far, it makes meridian there,<br/> +Where was before th’ horizon. Of that vale<br/> +Dwelt I upon the shore, ’twixt Ebro’s stream<br/> +And Macra’s, that divides with passage brief<br/> +Genoan bounds from Tuscan. East and west<br/> +Are nearly one to Begga and my land,<br/> +Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm.<br/> +Who knew my name were wont to call me Folco:<br/> +And I did bear impression of this heav’n,<br/> +That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame<br/> +Glow’d Belus’ daughter, injuring alike<br/> +Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I,<br/> +Long as it suited the unripen’d down<br/> +That fledg’d my cheek: nor she of Rhodope,<br/> +That was beguiled of Demophoon;<br/> +Nor Jove’s son, when the charms of Iole<br/> +Were shrin’d within his heart. And yet there hides<br/> +No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth,<br/> +Not for the fault (that doth not come to mind),<br/> +But for the virtue, whose o’erruling sway<br/> +And providence have wrought thus quaintly. Here<br/> +The skill is look’d into, that fashioneth<br/> +With such effectual working, and the good<br/> +Discern’d, accruing to this upper world<br/> +From that below. But fully to content<br/> +Thy wishes, all that in this sphere have birth,<br/> +Demands my further parle. Inquire thou wouldst,<br/> +Who of this light is denizen, that here<br/> +Beside me sparkles, as the sun-beam doth<br/> +On the clear wave. Know then, the soul of Rahab<br/> +Is in that gladsome harbour, to our tribe<br/> +United, and the foremost rank assign’d.<br/> +He to that heav’n, at which the shadow ends<br/> +Of your sublunar world, was taken up,<br/> +First, in Christ’s triumph, of all souls redeem’d:<br/> +For well behoov’d, that, in some part of heav’n,<br/> +She should remain a trophy, to declare<br/> +The mighty contest won with either palm;<br/> +For that she favour’d first the high exploit<br/> +Of Joshua on the holy land, whereof<br/> +The Pope recks little now. Thy city, plant<br/> +Of him, that on his Maker turn’d the back,<br/> +And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung,<br/> +Engenders and expands the cursed flower,<br/> +That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs,<br/> +Turning the shepherd to a wolf. For this,<br/> +The gospel and great teachers laid aside,<br/> +The decretals, as their stuft margins show,<br/> +Are the sole study. Pope and Cardinals,<br/> +Intent on these, ne’er journey but in thought<br/> +To Nazareth, where Gabriel op’d his wings.<br/> +Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican,<br/> +And other most selected parts of Rome,<br/> +That were the grave of Peter’s soldiery,<br/> +Shall be deliver’d from the adult’rous bond.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.X"></a>CANTO X</h2> + +<p> +Looking into his first-born with the love,<br/> +Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might<br/> +Ineffable, whence eye or mind<br/> +Can roam, hath in such order all dispos’d,<br/> +As none may see and fail to’ enjoy. Raise, then,<br/> +O reader! to the lofty wheels, with me,<br/> +Thy ken directed to the point, whereat<br/> +One motion strikes on th’ other. There begin<br/> +Thy wonder of the mighty Architect,<br/> +Who loves his work so inwardly, his eye<br/> +Doth ever watch it. See, how thence oblique<br/> +Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll<br/> +To pour their wished influence on the world;<br/> +Whose path not bending thus, in heav’n above<br/> +Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth,<br/> +All power well nigh extinct: or, from direct<br/> +Were its departure distant more or less,<br/> +I’ th’ universal order, great defect<br/> +Must, both in heav’n and here beneath, ensue. +</p> + +<p> +Now rest thee, reader! on thy bench, and muse<br/> +Anticipative of the feast to come;<br/> +So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil.<br/> +Lo! I have set before thee, for thyself<br/> +Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth<br/> +Demands entire my thought. Join’d with the part,<br/> +Which late we told of, the great minister<br/> +Of nature, that upon the world imprints<br/> +The virtue of the heaven, and doles out<br/> +Time for us with his beam, went circling on<br/> +Along the spires, where each hour sooner comes;<br/> +And I was with him, weetless of ascent,<br/> +As one, who till arriv’d, weets not his coming. +</p> + +<p> +For Beatrice, she who passeth on<br/> +So suddenly from good to better, time<br/> +Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs<br/> +Have been her brightness! What she was i’ th’ sun<br/> +(Where I had enter’d), not through change of hue,<br/> +But light transparent—did I summon up<br/> +Genius, art, practice—I might not so speak,<br/> +It should be e’er imagin’d: yet believ’d<br/> +It may be, and the sight be justly crav’d.<br/> +And if our fantasy fail of such height,<br/> +What marvel, since no eye above the sun<br/> +Hath ever travel’d? Such are they dwell here,<br/> +Fourth family of the Omnipotent Sire,<br/> +Who of his spirit and of his offspring shows;<br/> +And holds them still enraptur’d with the view.<br/> +And thus to me Beatrice: “Thank, oh thank,<br/> +The Sun of angels, him, who by his grace<br/> +To this perceptible hath lifted thee.” +</p> + +<p> +Never was heart in such devotion bound,<br/> +And with complacency so absolute<br/> +Dispos’d to render up itself to God,<br/> +As mine was at those words: and so entire<br/> +The love for Him, that held me, it eclips’d<br/> +Beatrice in oblivion. Naught displeas’d<br/> +Was she, but smil’d thereat so joyously,<br/> +That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake<br/> +And scatter’d my collected mind abroad. +</p> + +<p> +Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness<br/> +Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown,<br/> +And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice,<br/> +Than in their visage beaming. Cinctur’d thus,<br/> +Sometime Latona’s daughter we behold,<br/> +When the impregnate air retains the thread,<br/> +That weaves her zone. In the celestial court,<br/> +Whence I return, are many jewels found,<br/> +So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook<br/> +Transporting from that realm: and of these lights<br/> +Such was the song. Who doth not prune his wing<br/> +To soar up thither, let him look from thence<br/> +For tidings from the dumb. When, singing thus,<br/> +Those burning suns that circled round us thrice,<br/> +As nearest stars around the fixed pole,<br/> +Then seem’d they like to ladies, from the dance<br/> +Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause,<br/> +List’ning, till they have caught the strain anew:<br/> +Suspended so they stood: and, from within,<br/> +Thus heard I one, who spake: “Since with its beam<br/> +The grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame,<br/> +That after doth increase by loving, shines<br/> +So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up<br/> +Along this ladder, down whose hallow’d steps<br/> +None e’er descend, and mount them not again,<br/> +Who from his phial should refuse thee wine<br/> +To slake thy thirst, no less constrained were,<br/> +Than water flowing not unto the sea.<br/> +Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom<br/> +In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds<br/> +This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for heav’n.<br/> +I then was of the lambs, that Dominic<br/> +Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way,<br/> +Where well they thrive, not sworn with vanity.<br/> +He, nearest on my right hand, brother was,<br/> +And master to me: Albert of Cologne<br/> +Is this: and of Aquinum, Thomas I.<br/> +If thou of all the rest wouldst be assur’d,<br/> +Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak,<br/> +In circuit journey round the blessed wreath.<br/> +That next resplendence issues from the smile<br/> +Of Gratian, who to either forum lent<br/> +Such help, as favour wins in Paradise.<br/> +The other, nearest, who adorns our quire,<br/> +Was Peter, he that with the widow gave<br/> +To holy church his treasure. The fifth light,<br/> +Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired,<br/> +That all your world craves tidings of its doom:<br/> +Within, there is the lofty light, endow’d<br/> +With sapience so profound, if truth be truth,<br/> +That with a ken of such wide amplitude<br/> +No second hath arisen. Next behold<br/> +That taper’s radiance, to whose view was shown,<br/> +Clearliest, the nature and the ministry<br/> +Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt.<br/> +In the other little light serenely smiles<br/> +That pleader for the Christian temples, he<br/> +Who did provide Augustin of his lore.<br/> +Now, if thy mind’s eye pass from light to light,<br/> +Upon my praises following, of the eighth<br/> +Thy thirst is next. The saintly soul, that shows<br/> +The world’s deceitfulness, to all who hear him,<br/> +Is, with the sight of all the good, that is,<br/> +Blest there. The limbs, whence it was driven, lie<br/> +Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom<br/> +And exile came it here. Lo! further on,<br/> +Where flames the arduous Spirit of Isidore,<br/> +Of Bede, and Richard, more than man, erewhile,<br/> +In deep discernment. Lastly this, from whom<br/> +Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam<br/> +Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent,<br/> +Rebuk’d the ling’ring tardiness of death.<br/> +It is the eternal light of Sigebert,<br/> +Who ’scap’d not envy, when of truth he argued,<br/> +Reading in the straw-litter’d street.” Forthwith,<br/> +As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God<br/> +To win her bridegroom’s love at matin’s hour,<br/> +Each part of other fitly drawn and urg’d,<br/> +Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet,<br/> +Affection springs in well-disposed breast;<br/> +Thus saw I move the glorious wheel, thus heard<br/> +Voice answ’ring voice, so musical and soft,<br/> +It can be known but where day endless shines. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XI"></a>CANTO XI</h2> + +<p> +O fond anxiety of mortal men!<br/> +How vain and inconclusive arguments<br/> +Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below<br/> +For statues one, and one for aphorisms<br/> +Was hunting; this the priesthood follow’d, that<br/> +By force or sophistry aspir’d to rule;<br/> +To rob another, and another sought<br/> +By civil business wealth; one moiling lay<br/> +Tangled in net of sensual delight,<br/> +And one to witless indolence resign’d;<br/> +What time from all these empty things escap’d,<br/> +With Beatrice, I thus gloriously<br/> +Was rais’d aloft, and made the guest of heav’n. +</p> + +<p> +They of the circle to that point, each one.<br/> +Where erst it was, had turn’d; and steady glow’d,<br/> +As candle in his socket. Then within<br/> +The lustre, that erewhile bespake me, smiling<br/> +With merer gladness, heard I thus begin: +</p> + +<p> +“E’en as his beam illumes me, so I look<br/> +Into the eternal light, and clearly mark<br/> +Thy thoughts, from whence they rise. Thou art in doubt,<br/> +And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh<br/> +In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth<br/> +To thy perception, where I told thee late<br/> +That ‘well they thrive;’ and that ‘no second such<br/> +Hath risen,’ which no small distinction needs. +</p> + +<p> +“The providence, that governeth the world,<br/> +In depth of counsel by created ken<br/> +Unfathomable, to the end that she,<br/> +Who with loud cries was ’spous’d in precious blood,<br/> +Might keep her footing towards her well-belov’d,<br/> +Safe in herself and constant unto him,<br/> +Hath two ordain’d, who should on either hand<br/> +In chief escort her: one seraphic all<br/> +In fervency; for wisdom upon earth,<br/> +The other splendour of cherubic light.<br/> +I but of one will tell: he tells of both,<br/> +Who one commendeth. which of them so’er<br/> +Be taken: for their deeds were to one end. +</p> + +<p> +“Between Tupino, and the wave, that falls<br/> +From blest Ubaldo’s chosen hill, there hangs<br/> +Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold<br/> +Are wafted through Perugia’s eastern gate:<br/> +And Norcera with Gualdo, in its rear<br/> +Mourn for their heavy yoke. Upon that side,<br/> +Where it doth break its steepness most, arose<br/> +A sun upon the world, as duly this<br/> +From Ganges doth: therefore let none, who speak<br/> +Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name<br/> +Were lamely so deliver’d; but the East,<br/> +To call things rightly, be it henceforth styl’d.<br/> +He was not yet much distant from his rising,<br/> +When his good influence ’gan to bless the earth.<br/> +A dame to whom none openeth pleasure’s gate<br/> +More than to death, was, ’gainst his father’s will,<br/> +His stripling choice: and he did make her his,<br/> +Before the Spiritual court, by nuptial bonds,<br/> +And in his father’s sight: from day to day,<br/> +Then lov’d her more devoutly. She, bereav’d<br/> +Of her first husband, slighted and obscure,<br/> +Thousand and hundred years and more, remain’d<br/> +Without a single suitor, till he came.<br/> +Nor aught avail’d, that, with Amyclas, she<br/> +Was found unmov’d at rumour of his voice,<br/> +Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness<br/> +Whereby with Christ she mounted on the cross,<br/> +When Mary stay’d beneath. But not to deal<br/> +Thus closely with thee longer, take at large<br/> +The rovers’ titles—Poverty and Francis.<br/> +Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love,<br/> +And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts,<br/> +So much, that venerable Bernard first<br/> +Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace<br/> +So heavenly, ran, yet deem’d his footing slow.<br/> +O hidden riches! O prolific good!<br/> +Egidius bares him next, and next Sylvester,<br/> +And follow both the bridegroom; so the bride<br/> +Can please them. Thenceforth goes he on his way,<br/> +The father and the master, with his spouse,<br/> +And with that family, whom now the cord<br/> +Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart<br/> +Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son<br/> +Of Pietro Bernardone, and by men<br/> +In wond’rous sort despis’d. But royally<br/> +His hard intention he to Innocent<br/> +Set forth, and from him first receiv’d the seal<br/> +On his religion. Then, when numerous flock’d<br/> +The tribe of lowly ones, that trac’d HIS steps,<br/> +Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung<br/> +In heights empyreal, through Honorius’ hand<br/> +A second crown, to deck their Guardian’s virtues,<br/> +Was by the eternal Spirit inwreath’d: and when<br/> +He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up<br/> +In the proud Soldan’s presence, and there preach’d<br/> +Christ and his followers; but found the race<br/> +Unripen’d for conversion: back once more<br/> +He hasted (not to intermit his toil),<br/> +And reap’d Ausonian lands. On the hard rock,<br/> +’Twixt Arno and the Tyber, he from Christ<br/> +Took the last Signet, which his limbs two years<br/> +Did carry. Then the season come, that he,<br/> +Who to such good had destin’d him, was pleas’d<br/> +T’ advance him to the meed, which he had earn’d<br/> +By his self-humbling, to his brotherhood,<br/> +As their just heritage, he gave in charge<br/> +His dearest lady, and enjoin’d their love<br/> +And faith to her: and, from her bosom, will’d<br/> +His goodly spirit should move forth, returning<br/> +To its appointed kingdom, nor would have<br/> +His body laid upon another bier. +</p> + +<p> +“Think now of one, who were a fit colleague,<br/> +To keep the bark of Peter in deep sea<br/> +Helm’d to right point; and such our Patriarch was.<br/> +Therefore who follow him, as he enjoins,<br/> +Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in.<br/> +But hunger of new viands tempts his flock,<br/> +So that they needs into strange pastures wide<br/> +Must spread them: and the more remote from him<br/> +The stragglers wander, so much mole they come<br/> +Home to the sheep-fold, destitute of milk.<br/> +There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm,<br/> +And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few,<br/> +A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, if my words be clear, if thou have ta’en<br/> +Good heed, if that, which I have told, recall<br/> +To mind, thy wish may be in part fulfill’d:<br/> +For thou wilt see the point from whence they split,<br/> +Nor miss of the reproof, which that implies,<br/> +‘That well they thrive not sworn with vanity.’” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XII"></a>CANTO XII</h2> + +<p> +Soon as its final word the blessed flame<br/> +Had rais’d for utterance, straight the holy mill<br/> +Began to wheel, nor yet had once revolv’d,<br/> +Or ere another, circling, compass’d it,<br/> +Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining,<br/> +Song, that as much our muses doth excel,<br/> +Our Sirens with their tuneful pipes, as ray<br/> +Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex. +</p> + +<p> +As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth,<br/> +Two arches parallel, and trick’d alike,<br/> +Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth<br/> +From that within (in manner of that voice<br/> +Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist),<br/> +And they who gaze, presageful call to mind<br/> +The compact, made with Noah, of the world<br/> +No more to be o’erflow’d; about us thus<br/> +Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreath’d<br/> +Those garlands twain, and to the innermost<br/> +E’en thus th’ external answered. When the footing,<br/> +And other great festivity, of song,<br/> +And radiance, light with light accordant, each<br/> +Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still’d<br/> +(E’en as the eyes by quick volition mov’d,<br/> +Are shut and rais’d together), from the heart<br/> +Of one amongst the new lights mov’d a voice,<br/> +That made me seem like needle to the star,<br/> +In turning to its whereabout, and thus<br/> +Began: “The love, that makes me beautiful,<br/> +Prompts me to tell of th’ other guide, for whom<br/> +Such good of mine is spoken. Where one is,<br/> +The other worthily should also be;<br/> +That as their warfare was alike, alike<br/> +Should be their glory. Slow, and full of doubt,<br/> +And with thin ranks, after its banner mov’d<br/> +The army of Christ (which it so clearly cost<br/> +To reappoint), when its imperial Head,<br/> +Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host<br/> +Did make provision, thorough grace alone,<br/> +And not through its deserving. As thou heard’st,<br/> +Two champions to the succour of his spouse<br/> +He sent, who by their deeds and words might join<br/> +Again his scatter’d people. In that clime,<br/> +Where springs the pleasant west-wind to unfold<br/> +The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself<br/> +New-garmented; nor from those billows far,<br/> +Beyond whose chiding, after weary course,<br/> +The sun doth sometimes hide him, safe abides<br/> +The happy Callaroga, under guard<br/> +Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies<br/> +Subjected and supreme. And there was born<br/> +The loving million of the Christian faith,<br/> +The hollow’d wrestler, gentle to his own,<br/> +And to his enemies terrible. So replete<br/> +His soul with lively virtue, that when first<br/> +Created, even in the mother’s womb,<br/> +It prophesied. When, at the sacred font,<br/> +The spousals were complete ’twixt faith and him,<br/> +Where pledge of mutual safety was exchang’d,<br/> +The dame, who was his surety, in her sleep<br/> +Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him<br/> +And from his heirs to issue. And that such<br/> +He might be construed, as indeed he was,<br/> +She was inspir’d to name him of his owner,<br/> +Whose he was wholly, and so call’d him Dominic.<br/> +And I speak of him, as the labourer,<br/> +Whom Christ in his own garden chose to be<br/> +His help-mate. Messenger he seem’d, and friend<br/> +Fast-knit to Christ; and the first love he show’d,<br/> +Was after the first counsel that Christ gave.<br/> +Many a time his nurse, at entering found<br/> +That he had ris’n in silence, and was prostrate,<br/> +As who should say, “My errand was for this.”<br/> +O happy father! Felix rightly nam’d!<br/> +O favour’d mother! rightly nam’d Joanna!<br/> +If that do mean, as men interpret it.<br/> +Not for the world’s sake, for which now they pore<br/> +Upon Ostiense and Taddeo’s page,<br/> +But for the real manna, soon he grew<br/> +Mighty in learning, and did set himself<br/> +To go about the vineyard, that soon turns<br/> +To wan and wither’d, if not tended well:<br/> +And from the see (whose bounty to the just<br/> +And needy is gone by, not through its fault,<br/> +But his who fills it basely), he besought,<br/> +No dispensation for commuted wrong,<br/> +Nor the first vacant fortune, nor the tenth),<br/> +That to God’s paupers rightly appertain,<br/> +But, ’gainst an erring and degenerate world,<br/> +Licence to fight, in favour of that seed,<br/> +From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round.<br/> +Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help,<br/> +Forth on his great apostleship he far’d,<br/> +Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein;<br/> +And, dashing ’gainst the stocks of heresy,<br/> +Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout.<br/> +Thence many rivulets have since been turn’d,<br/> +Over the garden Catholic to lead<br/> +Their living waters, and have fed its plants. +</p> + +<p> +“If such one wheel of that two-yoked car,<br/> +Wherein the holy church defended her,<br/> +And rode triumphant through the civil broil.<br/> +Thou canst not doubt its fellow’s excellence,<br/> +Which Thomas, ere my coming, hath declar’d<br/> +So courteously unto thee. But the track,<br/> +Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted:<br/> +That mouldy mother is where late were lees.<br/> +His family, that wont to trace his path,<br/> +Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong<br/> +To rue the gathering in of their ill crop,<br/> +When the rejected tares in vain shall ask<br/> +Admittance to the barn. I question not<br/> +But he, who search’d our volume, leaf by leaf,<br/> +Might still find page with this inscription on’t,<br/> +‘I am as I was wont.’ Yet such were not<br/> +From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence<br/> +Of those, who come to meddle with the text,<br/> +One stretches and another cramps its rule.<br/> +Bonaventura’s life in me behold,<br/> +From Bagnororegio, one, who in discharge<br/> +Of my great offices still laid aside<br/> +All sinister aim. Illuminato here,<br/> +And Agostino join me: two they were,<br/> +Among the first of those barefooted meek ones,<br/> +Who sought God’s friendship in the cord: with them<br/> +Hugues of Saint Victor, Pietro Mangiadore,<br/> +And he of Spain in his twelve volumes shining,<br/> +Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan<br/> +Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign’d<br/> +To put his hand to the first art, Donatus.<br/> +Raban is here: and at my side there shines<br/> +Calabria’s abbot, Joachim , endow’d<br/> +With soul prophetic. The bright courtesy<br/> +Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore,<br/> +Have mov’d me to the blazon of a peer<br/> +So worthy, and with me have mov’d this throng.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XIII"></a>CANTO XIII</h2> + +<p> +Let him, who would conceive what now I saw,<br/> +Imagine (and retain the image firm,<br/> +As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak),<br/> +Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host<br/> +Selected, that, with lively ray serene,<br/> +O’ercome the massiest air: thereto imagine<br/> +The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky,<br/> +Spins ever on its axle night and day,<br/> +With the bright summit of that horn which swells<br/> +Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls,<br/> +T’ have rang’d themselves in fashion of two signs<br/> +In heav’n, such as Ariadne made,<br/> +When death’s chill seized her; and that one of them<br/> +Did compass in the other’s beam; and both<br/> +In such sort whirl around, that each should tend<br/> +With opposite motion and, conceiving thus,<br/> +Of that true constellation, and the dance<br/> +Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain<br/> +As ’twere the shadow; for things there as much<br/> +Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav’n<br/> +Is swifter than the Chiana. There was sung<br/> +No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but<br/> +Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one<br/> +Substance that nature and the human join’d. +</p> + +<p> +The song fulfill’d its measure; and to us<br/> +Those saintly lights attended, happier made<br/> +At each new minist’ring. Then silence brake,<br/> +Amid th’ accordant sons of Deity,<br/> +That luminary, in which the wondrous life<br/> +Of the meek man of God was told to me;<br/> +And thus it spake: “One ear o’ th’ harvest +thresh’d,<br/> +And its grain safely stor’d, sweet charity<br/> +Invites me with the other to like toil. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou know’st, that in the bosom, whence the rib<br/> +Was ta’en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste<br/> +All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc’d<br/> +By the keen lance, both after and before<br/> +Such satisfaction offer’d, as outweighs<br/> +Each evil in the scale, whate’er of light<br/> +To human nature is allow’d, must all<br/> +Have by his virtue been infus’d, who form’d<br/> +Both one and other: and thou thence admir’st<br/> +In that I told thee, of beatitudes<br/> +A second, there is none, to his enclos’d<br/> +In the fifth radiance. Open now thine eyes<br/> +To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see<br/> +Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth,<br/> +As centre in the round. That which dies not,<br/> +And that which can die, are but each the beam<br/> +Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire<br/> +Engendereth loving; for that lively light,<br/> +Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin’d<br/> +From him, nor from his love triune with them,<br/> +Doth, through his bounty, congregate itself,<br/> +Mirror’d, as ’twere in new existences,<br/> +Itself unalterable and ever one. +</p> + +<p> +“Descending hence unto the lowest powers,<br/> +Its energy so sinks, at last it makes<br/> +But brief contingencies: for so I name<br/> +Things generated, which the heav’nly orbs<br/> +Moving, with seed or without seed, produce.<br/> +Their wax, and that which molds it, differ much:<br/> +And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows<br/> +Th’ ideal stamp impress: so that one tree<br/> +According to his kind, hath better fruit,<br/> +And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men,<br/> +Are in your talents various. Were the wax<br/> +Molded with nice exactness, and the heav’n<br/> +In its disposing influence supreme,<br/> +The lustre of the seal should be complete:<br/> +But nature renders it imperfect ever,<br/> +Resembling thus the artist in her work,<br/> +Whose faultering hand is faithless to his skill.<br/> +Howe’er, if love itself dispose, and mark<br/> +The primal virtue, kindling with bright view,<br/> +There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such<br/> +The clay was made, accomplish’d with each gift,<br/> +That life can teem with; such the burden fill’d<br/> +The virgin’s bosom: so that I commend<br/> +Thy judgment, that the human nature ne’er<br/> +Was or can be, such as in them it was. +</p> + +<p> +“Did I advance no further than this point,<br/> +‘How then had he no peer?’ thou might’st reply.<br/> +But, that what now appears not, may appear<br/> +Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what<br/> +(When he was bidden ‘Ask’), the motive sway’d<br/> +To his requesting. I have spoken thus,<br/> +That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask’d<br/> +For wisdom, to the end he might be king<br/> +Sufficient: not the number to search out<br/> +Of the celestial movers; or to know,<br/> +If necessary with contingent e’er<br/> +Have made necessity; or whether that<br/> +Be granted, that first motion is; or if<br/> +Of the mid circle can, by art, be made<br/> +Triangle with each corner, blunt or sharp. +</p> + +<p> +“Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this,<br/> +Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn,<br/> +At which the dart of my intention aims.<br/> +And, marking clearly, that I told thee, ‘Risen,’<br/> +Thou shalt discern it only hath respect<br/> +To kings, of whom are many, and the good<br/> +Are rare. With this distinction take my words;<br/> +And they may well consist with that which thou<br/> +Of the first human father dost believe,<br/> +And of our well-beloved. And let this<br/> +Henceforth be led unto thy feet, to make<br/> +Thee slow in motion, as a weary man,<br/> +Both to the ‘yea’ and to the ‘nay’ thou seest not.<br/> +For he among the fools is down full low,<br/> +Whose affirmation, or denial, is<br/> +Without distinction, in each case alike<br/> +Since it befalls, that in most instances<br/> +Current opinion leads to false: and then<br/> +Affection bends the judgment to her ply. +</p> + +<p> +“Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore,<br/> +Since he returns not such as he set forth,<br/> +Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill.<br/> +And open proofs of this unto the world<br/> +Have been afforded in Parmenides,<br/> +Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside,<br/> +Who journey’d on, and knew not whither: so did<br/> +Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools,<br/> +Who, like to scymitars, reflected back<br/> +The scripture-image, by distortion marr’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Let not the people be too swift to judge,<br/> +As one who reckons on the blades in field,<br/> +Or ere the crop be ripe. For I have seen<br/> +The thorn frown rudely all the winter long<br/> +And after bear the rose upon its top;<br/> +And bark, that all the way across the sea<br/> +Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last,<br/> +E’en in the haven’s mouth seeing one steal,<br/> +Another brine, his offering to the priest,<br/> +Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence<br/> +Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry:<br/> +For one of these may rise, the other fall.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XIV"></a>CANTO XIV</h2> + +<p> +From centre to the circle, and so back<br/> +From circle to the centre, water moves<br/> +In the round chalice, even as the blow<br/> +Impels it, inwardly, or from without.<br/> +Such was the image glanc’d into my mind,<br/> +As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas’d;<br/> +And Beatrice after him her words<br/> +Resum’d alternate: “Need there is (tho’ yet<br/> +He tells it to you not in words, nor e’en<br/> +In thought) that he should fathom to its depth<br/> +Another mystery. Tell him, if the light,<br/> +Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you<br/> +Eternally, as now: and, if it doth,<br/> +How, when ye shall regain your visible forms,<br/> +The sight may without harm endure the change,<br/> +That also tell.” As those, who in a ring<br/> +Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth<br/> +Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound;<br/> +Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit,<br/> +The saintly circles in their tourneying<br/> +And wond’rous note attested new delight. +</p> + +<p> +Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb<br/> +Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live<br/> +Immortally above, he hath not seen<br/> +The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower. +</p> + +<p> +Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns<br/> +In mystic union of the Three in One,<br/> +Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice<br/> +Sang, with such melody, as but to hear<br/> +For highest merit were an ample meed.<br/> +And from the lesser orb the goodliest light,<br/> +With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps<br/> +The angel’s once to Mary, thus replied:<br/> +“Long as the joy of Paradise shall last,<br/> +Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright,<br/> +As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest;<br/> +And that as far in blessedness exceeding,<br/> +As it hath grave beyond its virtue great.<br/> +Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds<br/> +Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire,<br/> +Show yet more gracious. Therefore shall increase,<br/> +Whate’er of light, gratuitous, imparts<br/> +The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid,<br/> +The better disclose his glory: whence<br/> +The vision needs increasing, much increase<br/> +The fervour, which it kindles; and that too<br/> +The ray, that comes from it. But as the greed<br/> +Which gives out flame, yet it its whiteness shines<br/> +More lively than that, and so preserves<br/> +Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere<br/> +Of splendour, shall to view less radiant seem,<br/> +Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth<br/> +Now covers. Nor will such excess of light<br/> +O’erpower us, in corporeal organs made<br/> +Firm, and susceptible of all delight.” +</p> + +<p> +So ready and so cordial an “Amen,”<br/> +Followed from either choir, as plainly spoke<br/> +Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance<br/> +Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear,<br/> +Mothers and sires, and those whom best they lov’d,<br/> +Ere they were made imperishable flame. +</p> + +<p> +And lo! forthwith there rose up round about<br/> +A lustre over that already there,<br/> +Of equal clearness, like the brightening up<br/> +Of the horizon. As at an evening hour<br/> +Of twilight, new appearances through heav’n<br/> +Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried;<br/> +So there new substances, methought began<br/> +To rise in view; and round the other twain<br/> +Enwheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide. +</p> + +<p> +O gentle glitter of eternal beam!<br/> +With what a such whiteness did it flow,<br/> +O’erpowering vision in me! But so fair,<br/> +So passing lovely, Beatrice show’d,<br/> +Mind cannot follow it, nor words express<br/> +Her infinite sweetness. Thence mine eyes regain’d<br/> +Power to look up, and I beheld myself,<br/> +Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss<br/> +Translated: for the star, with warmer smile<br/> +Impurpled, well denoted our ascent. +</p> + +<p> +With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks<br/> +The same in all, an holocaust I made<br/> +To God, befitting the new grace vouchsaf’d.<br/> +And from my bosom had not yet upsteam’d<br/> +The fuming of that incense, when I knew<br/> +The rite accepted. With such mighty sheen<br/> +And mantling crimson, in two listed rays<br/> +The splendours shot before me, that I cried,<br/> +“God of Sabaoth! that does prank them thus!” +</p> + +<p> +As leads the galaxy from pole to pole,<br/> +Distinguish’d into greater lights and less,<br/> +Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell;<br/> +So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars,<br/> +Those rays describ’d the venerable sign,<br/> +That quadrants in the round conjoining frame.<br/> +Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ<br/> +Beam’d on that cross; and pattern fails me now.<br/> +But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ<br/> +Will pardon me for that I leave untold,<br/> +When in the flecker’d dawning he shall spy<br/> +The glitterance of Christ. From horn to horn,<br/> +And ’tween the summit and the base did move<br/> +Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass’d.<br/> +Thus oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance,<br/> +Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow,<br/> +The atomies of bodies, long or short,<br/> +To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line<br/> +Checkers the shadow, interpos’d by art<br/> +Against the noontide heat. And as the chime<br/> +Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and help<br/> +With many strings, a pleasant dining makes<br/> +To him, who heareth not distinct the note;<br/> +So from the lights, which there appear’d to me,<br/> +Gather’d along the cross a melody,<br/> +That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment<br/> +Possess’d me. Yet I mark’d it was a hymn<br/> +Of lofty praises; for there came to me<br/> +“Arise and conquer,” as to one who hears<br/> +And comprehends not. Me such ecstasy<br/> +O’ercame, that never till that hour was thing<br/> +That held me in so sweet imprisonment. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps my saying over bold appears,<br/> +Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes,<br/> +Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire.<br/> +But he, who is aware those living seals<br/> +Of every beauty work with quicker force,<br/> +The higher they are ris’n; and that there<br/> +I had not turn’d me to them; he may well<br/> +Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse<br/> +I do accuse me, and may own my truth;<br/> +That holy pleasure here not yet reveal’d,<br/> +Which grows in transport as we mount aloof. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XV"></a>CANTO XV</h2> + +<p> +True love, that ever shows itself as clear<br/> +In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong,<br/> +Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still’d<br/> +The sacred chords, that are by heav’n’s right hand<br/> +Unwound and tighten’d, flow to righteous prayers<br/> +Should they not hearken, who, to give me will<br/> +For praying, in accordance thus were mute?<br/> +He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief,<br/> +Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not,<br/> +Despoils himself forever of that love. +</p> + +<p> +As oft along the still and pure serene,<br/> +At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire,<br/> +Attracting with involuntary heed<br/> +The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest,<br/> +And seems some star that shifted place in heav’n,<br/> +Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost,<br/> +And it is soon extinct; thus from the horn,<br/> +That on the dexter of the cross extends,<br/> +Down to its foot, one luminary ran<br/> +From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem<br/> +Dropp’d from its foil; and through the beamy list<br/> +Like flame in alabaster, glow’d its course. +</p> + +<p> +So forward stretch’d him (if of credence aught<br/> +Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost<br/> +Of old Anchises, in the’ Elysian bower,<br/> +When he perceiv’d his son. “O thou, my blood!<br/> +O most exceeding grace divine! to whom,<br/> +As now to thee, hath twice the heav’nly gate<br/> +Been e’er unclos’d?” so spake the light; whence I<br/> +Turn’d me toward him; then unto my dame<br/> +My sight directed, and on either side<br/> +Amazement waited me; for in her eyes<br/> +Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine<br/> +Had div’d unto the bottom of my grace<br/> +And of my bliss in Paradise. Forthwith<br/> +To hearing and to sight grateful alike,<br/> +The spirit to his proem added things<br/> +I understood not, so profound he spake;<br/> +Yet not of choice but through necessity<br/> +Mysterious; for his high conception scar’d<br/> +Beyond the mark of mortals. When the flight<br/> +Of holy transport had so spent its rage,<br/> +That nearer to the level of our thought<br/> +The speech descended, the first sounds I heard<br/> +Were, “Best he thou, Triunal Deity!<br/> +That hast such favour in my seed vouchsaf’d!”<br/> +Then follow’d: “No unpleasant thirst, tho’ long,<br/> +Which took me reading in the sacred book,<br/> +Whose leaves or white or dusky never change,<br/> +Thou hast allay’d, my son, within this light,<br/> +From whence my voice thou hear’st; more thanks to her.<br/> +Who for such lofty mounting has with plumes<br/> +Begirt thee. Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me<br/> +From him transmitted, who is first of all,<br/> +E’en as all numbers ray from unity;<br/> +And therefore dost not ask me who I am,<br/> +Or why to thee more joyous I appear,<br/> +Than any other in this gladsome throng.<br/> +The truth is as thou deem’st; for in this hue<br/> +Both less and greater in that mirror look,<br/> +In which thy thoughts, or ere thou think’st, are shown.<br/> +But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever,<br/> +Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire,<br/> +May be contended fully, let thy voice,<br/> +Fearless, and frank and jocund, utter forth<br/> +Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish,<br/> +Whereto my ready answer stands decreed.” +</p> + +<p> +I turn’d me to Beatrice; and she heard<br/> +Ere I had spoken, smiling, an assent,<br/> +That to my will gave wings; and I began<br/> +“To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn’d<br/> +The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells,<br/> +Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt;<br/> +For that they are so equal in the sun,<br/> +From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat,<br/> +As makes all likeness scant. But will and means,<br/> +In mortals, for the cause ye well discern,<br/> +With unlike wings are fledge. A mortal I<br/> +Experience inequality like this,<br/> +And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart,<br/> +For thy paternal greeting. This howe’er<br/> +I pray thee, living topaz! that ingemm’st<br/> +This precious jewel, let me hear thy name.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am thy root, O leaf! whom to expect<br/> +Even, hath pleas’d me: “thus the prompt reply<br/> +Prefacing, next it added; “he, of whom<br/> +Thy kindred appellation comes, and who,<br/> +These hundred years and more, on its first ledge<br/> +Hath circuited the mountain, was my son<br/> +And thy great grandsire. Well befits, his long<br/> +Endurance should he shorten’d by thy deeds. +</p> + +<p> +“Florence, within her ancient limit-mark,<br/> +Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon,<br/> +Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace.<br/> +She had no armlets and no head-tires then,<br/> +No purfled dames, no zone, that caught the eye<br/> +More than the person did. Time was not yet,<br/> +When at his daughter’s birth the sire grew pale.<br/> +For fear the age and dowry should exceed<br/> +On each side just proportion. House was none<br/> +Void of its family; nor yet had come<br/> +Hardanapalus, to exhibit feats<br/> +Of chamber prowess. Montemalo yet<br/> +O’er our suburban turret rose; as much<br/> +To be surpass in fall, as in its rising.<br/> +I saw Bellincione Berti walk abroad<br/> +In leathern girdle and a clasp of bone;<br/> +And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks,<br/> +His lady leave the glass. The sons I saw<br/> +Of Nerli and of Vecchio well content<br/> +With unrob’d jerkin; and their good dames handling<br/> +The spindle and the flax; O happy they!<br/> +Each sure of burial in her native land,<br/> +And none left desolate a-bed for France!<br/> +One wak’d to tend the cradle, hushing it<br/> +With sounds that lull’d the parent’s infancy:<br/> +Another, with her maidens, drawing off<br/> +The tresses from the distaff, lectur’d them<br/> +Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome.<br/> +A Salterello and Cianghella we<br/> +Had held as strange a marvel, as ye would<br/> +A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now. +</p> + +<p> +“In such compos’d and seemly fellowship,<br/> +Such faithful and such fair equality,<br/> +In so sweet household, Mary at my birth<br/> +Bestow’d me, call’d on with loud cries; and there<br/> +In your old baptistery, I was made<br/> +Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were<br/> +My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto. +</p> + +<p> +“From Valdipado came to me my spouse,<br/> +And hence thy surname grew. I follow’d then<br/> +The Emperor Conrad; and his knighthood he<br/> +Did gird on me; in such good part he took<br/> +My valiant service. After him I went<br/> +To testify against that evil law,<br/> +Whose people, by the shepherd’s fault, possess<br/> +Your right, usurping. There, by that foul crew<br/> +Was I releas’d from the deceitful world,<br/> +Whose base affection many a spirit soils,<br/> +And from the martyrdom came to this peace.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XVI"></a>CANTO XVI</h2> + +<p> +O slight respect of man’s nobility!<br/> +I never shall account it marvelous,<br/> +That our infirm affection here below<br/> +Thou mov’st to boasting, when I could not choose,<br/> +E’en in that region of unwarp’d desire,<br/> +In heav’n itself, but make my vaunt in thee!<br/> +Yet cloak thou art soon shorten’d, for that time,<br/> +Unless thou be eked out from day to day,<br/> +Goes round thee with his shears. Resuming then<br/> +With greeting such, as Rome, was first to bear,<br/> +But since hath disaccustom’d I began;<br/> +And Beatrice, that a little space<br/> +Was sever’d, smil’d reminding me of her,<br/> +Whose cough embolden’d (as the story holds)<br/> +To first offence the doubting Guenever. +</p> + +<p> +“You are my sire,” said I, “you give me heart<br/> +Freely to speak my thought: above myself<br/> +You raise me. Through so many streams with joy<br/> +My soul is fill’d, that gladness wells from it;<br/> +So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not<br/> +Say then, my honour’d stem! what ancestors<br/> +Where those you sprang from, and what years were mark’d<br/> +In your first childhood? Tell me of the fold,<br/> +That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then<br/> +Its state, and who in it were highest seated?” +</p> + +<p> +As embers, at the breathing of the wind,<br/> +Their flame enliven, so that light I saw<br/> +Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew<br/> +More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet,<br/> +Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith<br/> +It answer’d: “From the day, when it was said<br/> +‘Hail Virgin!’ to the throes, by which my mother,<br/> +Who now is sainted, lighten’d her of me<br/> +Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come,<br/> +Five hundred fifty times and thrice, its beams<br/> +To reilumine underneath the foot<br/> +Of its own lion. They, of whom I sprang,<br/> +And I, had there our birth-place, where the last<br/> +Partition of our city first is reach’d<br/> +By him, that runs her annual game. Thus much<br/> +Suffice of my forefathers: who they were,<br/> +And whence they hither came, more honourable<br/> +It is to pass in silence than to tell.<br/> +All those, who in that time were there from Mars<br/> +Until the Baptist, fit to carry arms,<br/> +Were but the fifth of them this day alive.<br/> +But then the citizen’s blood, that now is mix’d<br/> +From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine,<br/> +Ran purely through the last mechanic’s veins.<br/> +O how much better were it, that these people<br/> +Were neighbours to you, and that at Galluzzo<br/> +And at Trespiano, ye should have your bound’ry,<br/> +Than to have them within, and bear the stench<br/> +Of Aguglione’s hind, and Signa’s, him,<br/> +That hath his eye already keen for bart’ring!<br/> +Had not the people, which of all the world<br/> +Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar,<br/> +But, as a mother, gracious to her son;<br/> +Such one, as hath become a Florentine,<br/> +And trades and traffics, had been turn’d adrift<br/> +To Simifonte, where his grandsire ply’d<br/> +The beggar’s craft. The Conti were possess’d<br/> +Of Montemurlo still: the Cerchi still<br/> +Were in Acone’s parish; nor had haply<br/> +From Valdigrieve past the Buondelmonte.<br/> +The city’s malady hath ever source<br/> +In the confusion of its persons, as<br/> +The body’s, in variety of food:<br/> +And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge,<br/> +Than the blind lamb; and oftentimes one sword<br/> +Doth more and better execution,<br/> +Than five. Mark Luni, Urbisaglia mark,<br/> +How they are gone, and after them how go<br/> +Chiusi and Sinigaglia; and ’twill seem<br/> +No longer new or strange to thee to hear,<br/> +That families fail, when cities have their end.<br/> +All things, that appertain t’ ye, like yourselves,<br/> +Are mortal: but mortality in some<br/> +Ye mark not, they endure so long, and you<br/> +Pass by so suddenly. And as the moon<br/> +Doth, by the rolling of her heav’nly sphere,<br/> +Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly;<br/> +So fortune deals with Florence. Hence admire not<br/> +At what of them I tell thee, whose renown<br/> +Time covers, the first Florentines. I saw<br/> +The Ughi, Catilini and Filippi,<br/> +The Alberichi, Greci and Ormanni,<br/> +Now in their wane, illustrious citizens:<br/> +And great as ancient, of Sannella him,<br/> +With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri<br/> +And Ardinghi, and Bostichi. At the poop,<br/> +That now is laden with new felony,<br/> +So cumb’rous it may speedily sink the bark,<br/> +The Ravignani sat, of whom is sprung<br/> +The County Guido, and whoso hath since<br/> +His title from the fam’d Bellincione ta’en.<br/> +Fair governance was yet an art well priz’d<br/> +By him of Pressa: Galigaio show’d<br/> +The gilded hilt and pommel, in his house.<br/> +The column, cloth’d with verrey, still was seen<br/> +Unshaken: the Sacchetti still were great,<br/> +Giouchi, Sifanti, Galli and Barucci,<br/> +With them who blush to hear the bushel nam’d.<br/> +Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk<br/> +Was in its strength: and to the curule chairs<br/> +Sizii and Arigucci yet were drawn.<br/> +How mighty them I saw, whom since their pride<br/> +Hath undone! and in all her goodly deeds<br/> +Florence was by the bullets of bright gold<br/> +O’erflourish’d. Such the sires of those, who now,<br/> +As surely as your church is vacant, flock<br/> +Into her consistory, and at leisure<br/> +There stall them and grow fat. The o’erweening brood,<br/> +That plays the dragon after him that flees,<br/> +But unto such, as turn and show the tooth,<br/> +Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb,<br/> +Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem’d,<br/> +That Ubertino of Donati grudg’d<br/> +His father-in-law should yoke him to its tribe.<br/> +Already Caponsacco had descended<br/> +Into the mart from Fesole: and Giuda<br/> +And Infangato were good citizens.<br/> +A thing incredible I tell, tho’ true:<br/> +The gateway, named from those of Pera, led<br/> +Into the narrow circuit of your walls.<br/> +Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings<br/> +Of the great Baron (he whose name and worth<br/> +The festival of Thomas still revives)<br/> +His knighthood and his privilege retain’d;<br/> +Albeit one, who borders them With gold,<br/> +This day is mingled with the common herd.<br/> +In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt,<br/> +And Importuni: well for its repose<br/> +Had it still lack’d of newer neighbourhood.<br/> +The house, from whence your tears have had their spring,<br/> +Through the just anger that hath murder’d ye<br/> +And put a period to your gladsome days,<br/> +Was honour’d, it, and those consorted with it.<br/> +O Buondelmonte! what ill counseling<br/> +Prevail’d on thee to break the plighted bond<br/> +Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice,<br/> +Had God to Ema giv’n thee, the first time<br/> +Thou near our city cam’st. But so was doom’d:<br/> +On that maim’d stone set up to guard the bridge,<br/> +At thy last peace, the victim, Florence! fell.<br/> +With these and others like to them, I saw<br/> +Florence in such assur’d tranquility,<br/> +She had no cause at which to grieve: with these<br/> +Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne’er<br/> +The lily from the lance had hung reverse,<br/> +Or through division been with vermeil dyed.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +Such as the youth, who came to Clymene<br/> +To certify himself of that reproach,<br/> +Which had been fasten’d on him, (he whose end<br/> +Still makes the fathers chary to their sons,<br/> +E’en such was I; nor unobserv’d was such<br/> +Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp,<br/> +Who had erewhile for me his station mov’d;<br/> +When thus by lady: “Give thy wish free vent,<br/> +That it may issue, bearing true report<br/> +Of the mind’s impress; not that aught thy words<br/> +May to our knowledge add, but to the end,<br/> +That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst<br/> +And men may mingle for thee when they hear.” +</p> + +<p> +“O plant! from whence I spring! rever’d and lov’d!<br/> +Who soar’st so high a pitch, thou seest as clear,<br/> +As earthly thought determines two obtuse<br/> +In one triangle not contain’d, so clear<br/> +Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves<br/> +Existent, looking at the point whereto<br/> +All times are present, I, the whilst I scal’d<br/> +With Virgil the soul purifying mount,<br/> +And visited the nether world of woe,<br/> +Touching my future destiny have heard<br/> +Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides<br/> +Well squar’d to fortune’s blows. Therefore my will<br/> +Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me,<br/> +The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks its flight.” +</p> + +<p> +So said I to the brightness, which erewhile<br/> +To me had spoken, and my will declar’d,<br/> +As Beatrice will’d, explicitly.<br/> +Nor with oracular response obscure,<br/> +Such, as or ere the Lamb of God was slain,<br/> +Beguil’d the credulous nations; but, in terms<br/> +Precise and unambiguous lore, replied<br/> +The spirit of paternal love, enshrin’d,<br/> +Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake:<br/> +“Contingency, unfolded not to view<br/> +Upon the tablet of your mortal mold,<br/> +Is all depictur’d in the’ eternal sight;<br/> +But hence deriveth not necessity,<br/> +More then the tall ship, hurried down the flood,<br/> +Doth from the vision, that reflects the scene.<br/> +From thence, as to the ear sweet harmony<br/> +From organ comes, so comes before mine eye<br/> +The time prepar’d for thee. Such as driv’n out<br/> +From Athens, by his cruel stepdame’s wiles,<br/> +Hippolytus departed, such must thou<br/> +Depart from Florence. This they wish, and this<br/> +Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there,<br/> +Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ,<br/> +Throughout the livelong day. The common cry,<br/> +Will, as ’tis ever wont, affix the blame<br/> +Unto the party injur’d: but the truth<br/> +Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find<br/> +A faithful witness. Thou shall leave each thing<br/> +Belov’d most dearly: this is the first shaft<br/> +Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove<br/> +How salt the savour is of other’s bread,<br/> +How hard the passage to descend and climb<br/> +By other’s stairs, But that shall gall thee most<br/> +Will he the worthless and vile company,<br/> +With whom thou must be thrown into these straits.<br/> +For all ungrateful, impious all and mad,<br/> +Shall turn ’gainst thee: but in a little while<br/> +Theirs and not thine shall be the crimson’d brow<br/> +Their course shall so evince their brutishness<br/> +T’ have ta’en thy stand apart shall well become thee. +</p> + +<p> +“First refuge thou must find, first place of rest,<br/> +In the great Lombard’s courtesy, who bears<br/> +Upon the ladder perch’d the sacred bird.<br/> +He shall behold thee with such kind regard,<br/> +That ’twixt ye two, the contrary to that<br/> +Which falls ’twixt other men, the granting shall<br/> +Forerun the asking. With him shalt thou see<br/> +That mortal, who was at his birth impress<br/> +So strongly from this star, that of his deeds<br/> +The nations shall take note. His unripe age<br/> +Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels<br/> +Only nine years have compass him about.<br/> +But, ere the Gascon practice on great Harry,<br/> +Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him,<br/> +In equal scorn of labours and of gold.<br/> +His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely,<br/> +As not to let the tongues e’en of his foes<br/> +Be idle in its praise. Look thou to him<br/> +And his beneficence: for he shall cause<br/> +Reversal of their lot to many people,<br/> +Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes.<br/> +And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul<br/> +Of him, but tell it not; “and things he told<br/> +Incredible to those who witness them;<br/> +Then added: “So interpret thou, my son,<br/> +What hath been told thee.—Lo! the ambushment<br/> +That a few circling seasons hide for thee!<br/> +Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends<br/> +Thy span beyond their treason’s chastisement.” +</p> + +<p> +Soon, as the saintly spirit, by his silence,<br/> +Had shown the web, which I had streteh’d for him<br/> +Upon the warp, was woven, I began,<br/> +As one, who in perplexity desires<br/> +Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly:<br/> +“My father! well I mark how time spurs on<br/> +Toward me, ready to inflict the blow,<br/> +Which falls most heavily on him, who most<br/> +Abandoned himself. Therefore ’tis good<br/> +I should forecast, that driven from the place<br/> +Most dear to me, I may not lose myself<br/> +All others by my song. Down through the world<br/> +Of infinite mourning, and along the mount<br/> +From whose fair height my lady’s eyes did lift me,<br/> +And after through this heav’n from light to light,<br/> +Have I learnt that, which if I tell again,<br/> +It may with many woefully disrelish;<br/> +And, if I am a timid friend to truth,<br/> +I fear my life may perish among those,<br/> +To whom these days shall be of ancient date.” +</p> + +<p> +The brightness, where enclos’d the treasure smil’d,<br/> +Which I had found there, first shone glisteningly,<br/> +Like to a golden mirror in the sun;<br/> +Next answer’d: “Conscience, dimm’d or by its own<br/> +Or other’s shame, will feel thy saying sharp.<br/> +Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit remov’d,<br/> +See the whole vision be made manifest.<br/> +And let them wince who have their withers wrung.<br/> +What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove<br/> +Unwelcome, on digestion it will turn<br/> +To vital nourishment. The cry thou raisest,<br/> +Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits;<br/> +Which is of honour no light argument,<br/> +For this there only have been shown to thee,<br/> +Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep,<br/> +Spirits, whom fame hath note of. For the mind<br/> +Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce<br/> +And fix its faith, unless the instance brought<br/> +Be palpable, and proof apparent urge.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XVIII"></a>CANTO XVIII</h2> + +<p> +Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy’d<br/> +That blessed spirit; and I fed on mine,<br/> +Tempting the sweet with bitter: she meanwhile,<br/> +Who led me unto God, admonish’d: “Muse<br/> +On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him<br/> +I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn’d;<br/> +And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen,<br/> +I leave in silence here: nor through distrust<br/> +Of my words only, but that to such bliss<br/> +The mind remounts not without aid. Thus much<br/> +Yet may I speak; that, as I gaz’d on her,<br/> +Affection found no room for other wish.<br/> +While the everlasting pleasure, that did full<br/> +On Beatrice shine, with second view<br/> +From her fair countenance my gladden’d soul<br/> +Contented; vanquishing me with a beam<br/> +Of her soft smile, she spake: “Turn thee, and list.<br/> +These eyes are not thy only Paradise.” +</p> + +<p> +As here we sometimes in the looks may see<br/> +Th’ affection mark’d, when that its sway hath ta’en<br/> +The spirit wholly; thus the hallow’d light,<br/> +To whom I turn’d, flashing, bewray’d its will<br/> +To talk yet further with me, and began:<br/> +“On this fifth lodgment of the tree, whose life<br/> +Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair<br/> +And leaf unwith’ring, blessed spirits abide,<br/> +That were below, ere they arriv’d in heav’n,<br/> +So mighty in renown, as every muse<br/> +Might grace her triumph with them. On the horns<br/> +Look therefore of the cross: he, whom I name,<br/> +Shall there enact, as doth 1n summer cloud<br/> +Its nimble fire.” Along the cross I saw,<br/> +At the repeated name of Joshua,<br/> +A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said,<br/> +Ere it was done: then, at the naming saw<br/> +Of the great Maccabee, another move<br/> +With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge<br/> +Unto that top. The next for Charlemagne<br/> +And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze<br/> +Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues<br/> +A falcon flying. Last, along the cross,<br/> +William, and Renard, and Duke Godfrey drew<br/> +My ken, and Robert Guiscard. And the soul,<br/> +Who spake with me among the other lights<br/> +Did move away, and mix; and with the choir<br/> +Of heav’nly songsters prov’d his tuneful skill. +</p> + +<p> +To Beatrice on my right l bent,<br/> +Looking for intimation or by word<br/> +Or act, what next behoov’d; and did descry<br/> +Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy,<br/> +It past all former wont. And, as by sense<br/> +Of new delight, the man, who perseveres<br/> +In good deeds doth perceive from day to day<br/> +His virtue growing; I e’en thus perceiv’d<br/> +Of my ascent, together with the heav’n<br/> +The circuit widen’d, noting the increase<br/> +Of beauty in that wonder. Like the change<br/> +In a brief moment on some maiden’s cheek,<br/> +Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight<br/> +Of pudency, that stain’d it; such in her,<br/> +And to mine eyes so sudden was the change,<br/> +Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star,<br/> +Whose sixth orb now enfolded us. I saw,<br/> +Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks<br/> +Of love, that reign’d there, fashion to my view<br/> +Our language. And as birds, from river banks<br/> +Arisen, now in round, now lengthen’d troop,<br/> +Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems,<br/> +Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights,<br/> +The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made<br/> +Now D. now I. now L. figur’d I’ th’ air.<br/> +First, singing, to their notes they mov’d, then one<br/> +Becoming of these signs, a little while<br/> +Did rest them, and were mute. O nymph divine<br/> +Of Pegasean race! whose souls, which thou<br/> +Inspir’st, mak’st glorious and long-liv’d, as they<br/> +Cities and realms by thee! thou with thyself<br/> +Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes,<br/> +As fancy doth present them. Be thy power<br/> +Display’d in this brief song. The characters,<br/> +Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven.<br/> +In order each, as they appear’d, I mark’d.<br/> +Diligite Justitiam, the first,<br/> +Both verb and noun all blazon’d; and the extreme<br/> +Qui judicatis terram. In the M.<br/> +Of the fifth word they held their station,<br/> +Making the star seem silver streak’d with gold.<br/> +And on the summit of the M. I saw<br/> +Descending other lights, that rested there,<br/> +Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good.<br/> +Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand,<br/> +Sparkles innumerable on all sides<br/> +Rise scatter’d, source of augury to th’ unwise;<br/> +Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence<br/> +Seem’d reascending, and a higher pitch<br/> +Some mounting, and some less; e’en as the sun,<br/> +Which kindleth them, decreed. And when each one<br/> +Had settled in his place, the head and neck<br/> +Then saw I of an eagle, lively<br/> +Grav’d in that streaky fire. Who painteth there,<br/> +Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides;<br/> +And every line and texture of the nest<br/> +Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it.<br/> +The other bright beatitude, that seem’d<br/> +Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content<br/> +To over-canopy the M. mov’d forth,<br/> +Following gently the impress of the bird. +</p> + +<p> +Â Sweet star! what glorious and thick-studded gems<br/> +Declar’d to me our justice on the earth<br/> +To be the effluence of that heav’n, which thou,<br/> +Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay!<br/> +Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom<br/> +Thy motion and thy virtue are begun,<br/> +That he would look from whence the fog doth rise,<br/> +To vitiate thy beam: so that once more<br/> +He may put forth his hand ’gainst such, as drive<br/> +Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls<br/> +With miracles and martyrdoms were built. +</p> + +<p> +Ye host of heaven! whose glory I survey l<br/> +O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth<br/> +All after ill example gone astray.<br/> +War once had for its instrument the sword:<br/> +But now ’tis made, taking the bread away<br/> +Which the good Father locks from none.—And thou,<br/> +That writes but to cancel, think, that they,<br/> +Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died,<br/> +Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings.<br/> +Thou hast good cause to cry, “My heart so cleaves<br/> +To him, that liv’d in solitude remote,<br/> +And from the wilds was dragg’d to martyrdom,<br/> +I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XIX"></a>CANTO XIX</h2> + +<p> +Before my sight appear’d, with open wings,<br/> +The beauteous image, in fruition sweet<br/> +Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem<br/> +A little ruby, whereon so intense<br/> +The sun-beam glow’d that to mine eyes it came<br/> +In clear refraction. And that, which next<br/> +Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter’d,<br/> +Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy<br/> +Was e’er conceiv’d. For I beheld and heard<br/> +The beak discourse; and, what intention form’d<br/> +Of many, singly as of one express,<br/> +Beginning: “For that I was just and piteous,<br/> +l am exalted to this height of glory,<br/> +The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth<br/> +Have I my memory left, e’en by the bad<br/> +Commended, while they leave its course untrod.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus is one heat from many embers felt,<br/> +As in that image many were the loves,<br/> +And one the voice, that issued from them all.<br/> +Whence I address them: “O perennial flowers<br/> +Of gladness everlasting! that exhale<br/> +In single breath your odours manifold!<br/> +Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas’d,<br/> +That with great craving long hath held my soul,<br/> +Finding no food on earth. This well I know,<br/> +That if there be in heav’n a realm, that shows<br/> +In faithful mirror the celestial Justice,<br/> +Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern<br/> +The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself<br/> +To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me<br/> +With such inveterate craving.” Straight I saw,<br/> +Like to a falcon issuing from the hood,<br/> +That rears his head, and claps him with his wings,<br/> +His beauty and his eagerness bewraying.<br/> +So saw I move that stately sign, with praise<br/> +Of grace divine inwoven and high song<br/> +Of inexpressive joy. “He,” it began,<br/> +“Who turn’d his compass on the world’s extreme,<br/> +And in that space so variously hath wrought,<br/> +Both openly, and in secret, in such wise<br/> +Could not through all the universe display<br/> +Impression of his glory, that the Word<br/> +Of his omniscience should not still remain<br/> +In infinite excess. In proof whereof,<br/> +He first through pride supplanted, who was sum<br/> +Of each created being, waited not<br/> +For light celestial, and abortive fell.<br/> +Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant<br/> +Receptacle unto that Good, which knows<br/> +No limit, measur’d by itself alone.<br/> +Therefore your sight, of th’ omnipresent Mind<br/> +A single beam, its origin must own<br/> +Surpassing far its utmost potency.<br/> +The ken, your world is gifted with, descends<br/> +In th’ everlasting Justice as low down,<br/> +As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark<br/> +The bottom from the shore, in the wide main<br/> +Discerns it not; and ne’ertheless it is,<br/> +But hidden through its deepness. Light is none,<br/> +Save that which cometh from the pure serene<br/> +Of ne’er disturbed ether: for the rest,<br/> +’Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh,<br/> +Or else its poison. Here confess reveal’d<br/> +That covert, which hath hidden from thy search<br/> +The living justice, of the which thou mad’st<br/> +Such frequent question; for thou saidst—‘A man<br/> +Is born on Indus’ banks, and none is there<br/> +Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write,<br/> +And all his inclinations and his acts,<br/> +As far as human reason sees, are good,<br/> +And he offendeth not in word or deed.<br/> +But unbaptiz’d he dies, and void of faith.<br/> +Where is the justice that condemns him? where<br/> +His blame, if he believeth not?’—What then,<br/> +And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit<br/> +To judge at distance of a thousand miles<br/> +With the short-sighted vision of a span?<br/> +To him, who subtilizes thus with me,<br/> +There would assuredly be room for doubt<br/> +Even to wonder, did not the safe word<br/> +Of scripture hold supreme authority. +</p> + +<p> +“O animals of clay! O spirits gross I<br/> +The primal will, that in itself is good,<br/> +Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne’er been mov’d.<br/> +Justice consists in consonance with it,<br/> +Derivable by no created good,<br/> +Whose very cause depends upon its beam.” +</p> + +<p> +As on her nest the stork, that turns about<br/> +Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed,<br/> +While they with upward eyes do look on her;<br/> +So lifted I my gaze; and bending so<br/> +The ever-blessed image wav’d its wings,<br/> +Lab’ring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round<br/> +It warbled, and did say: “As are my notes<br/> +To thee, who understand’st them not, such is<br/> +Th’ eternal judgment unto mortal ken.” +</p> + +<p> +Then still abiding in that ensign rang’d,<br/> +Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world,<br/> +Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit<br/> +Took up the strain; and thus it spake again:<br/> +“None ever hath ascended to this realm,<br/> +Who hath not a believer been in Christ,<br/> +Either before or after the blest limbs<br/> +Were nail’d upon the wood. But lo! of those<br/> +Who call ‘Christ, Christ,’ there shall be many found,<br/> +Â In judgment, further off from him by far,<br/> +Than such, to whom his name was never known.<br/> +Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn:<br/> +When that the two assemblages shall part;<br/> +One rich eternally, the other poor. +</p> + +<p> +“What may the Persians say unto your kings,<br/> +When they shall see that volume, in the which<br/> +All their dispraise is written, spread to view?<br/> +There amidst Albert’s works shall that be read,<br/> +Which will give speedy motion to the pen,<br/> +When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm.<br/> +There shall be read the woe, that he doth work<br/> +With his adulterate money on the Seine,<br/> +Who by the tusk will perish: there be read<br/> +The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike<br/> +The English and Scot, impatient of their bound.<br/> +There shall be seen the Spaniard’s luxury,<br/> +The delicate living there of the Bohemian,<br/> +Who still to worth has been a willing stranger.<br/> +The halter of Jerusalem shall see<br/> +A unit for his virtue, for his vices<br/> +No less a mark than million. He, who guards<br/> +The isle of fire by old Anchises honour’d<br/> +Shall find his avarice there and cowardice;<br/> +And better to denote his littleness,<br/> +The writing must be letters maim’d, that speak<br/> +Much in a narrow space. All there shall know<br/> +His uncle and his brother’s filthy doings,<br/> +Who so renown’d a nation and two crowns<br/> +Have bastardized. And they, of Portugal<br/> +And Norway, there shall be expos’d with him<br/> +Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill<br/> +The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary!<br/> +If thou no longer patiently abid’st<br/> +Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre!<br/> +If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee<br/> +In earnest of that day, e’en now are heard<br/> +Wailings and groans in Famagosta’s streets<br/> +And Nicosia’s, grudging at their beast,<br/> +Who keepeth even footing with the rest.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XX"></a>CANTO XX</h2> + +<p> +When, disappearing, from our hemisphere,<br/> +The world’s enlightener vanishes, and day<br/> +On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky,<br/> +Erewhile irradiate only with his beam,<br/> +Is yet again unfolded, putting forth<br/> +Innumerable lights wherein one shines.<br/> +Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought,<br/> +As the great sign, that marshaleth the world<br/> +And the world’s leaders, in the blessed beak<br/> +Was silent; for that all those living lights,<br/> +Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs,<br/> +Such as from memory glide and fall away. +</p> + +<p> +Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles,<br/> +How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles,<br/> +Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir’d! +</p> + +<p> +After the precious and bright beaming stones,<br/> +That did ingem the sixth light, ceas’d the chiming<br/> +Of their angelic bells; methought I heard<br/> +The murmuring of a river, that doth fall<br/> +From rock to rock transpicuous, making known<br/> +The richness of his spring-head: and as sound<br/> +Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe,<br/> +Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun’d;<br/> +Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose<br/> +That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith<br/> +Voice there assum’d, and thence along the beak<br/> +Issued in form of words, such as my heart<br/> +Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib’d them. +</p> + +<p> +“The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,,<br/> +In mortal eagles,” it began, “must now<br/> +Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires,<br/> +That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye,<br/> +Are chief of all the greatest. This, that shines<br/> +Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang<br/> +The Holy Spirit’s song, and bare about<br/> +The ark from town to town; now doth he know<br/> +The merit of his soul-impassion’d strains<br/> +By their well-fitted guerdon. Of the five,<br/> +That make the circle of the vision, he<br/> +Who to the beak is nearest, comforted<br/> +The widow for her son: now doth he know<br/> +How dear he costeth not to follow Christ,<br/> +Both from experience of this pleasant life,<br/> +And of its opposite. He next, who follows<br/> +In the circumference, for the over arch,<br/> +By true repenting slack’d the pace of death:<br/> +Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav’n<br/> +Alter not, when through pious prayer below<br/> +Today’s is made tomorrow’s destiny.<br/> +The other following, with the laws and me,<br/> +To yield the shepherd room, pass’d o’er to Greece,<br/> +From good intent producing evil fruit:<br/> +Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv’d<br/> +From his well doing, doth not helm him aught,<br/> +Though it have brought destruction on the world.<br/> +That, which thou seest in the under bow,<br/> +Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps<br/> +For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows<br/> +How well is lov’d in heav’n the righteous king,<br/> +Which he betokens by his radiant seeming.<br/> +Who in the erring world beneath would deem,<br/> +That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set<br/> +Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows<br/> +Enough of that, which the world cannot see,<br/> +The grace divine, albeit e’en his sight<br/> +Reach not its utmost depth.” Like to the lark,<br/> +That warbling in the air expatiates long,<br/> +Then, trilling out his last sweet melody,<br/> +Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear’d<br/> +That image stampt by the’ everlasting pleasure,<br/> +Which fashions like itself all lovely things. +</p> + +<p> +I, though my doubting were as manifest,<br/> +As is through glass the hue that mantles it,<br/> +In silence waited not: for to my lips<br/> +“What things are these?” involuntary rush’d,<br/> +And forc’d a passage out: whereat I mark’d<br/> +A sudden lightening and new revelry.<br/> +The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign<br/> +No more to keep me wond’ring and suspense,<br/> +Replied: “I see that thou believ’st these things,<br/> +Because I tell them, but discern’st not how;<br/> +So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith:<br/> +As one who knows the name of thing by rote,<br/> +But is a stranger to its properties,<br/> +Till other’s tongue reveal them. Fervent love<br/> +And lively hope with violence assail<br/> +The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome<br/> +The will of the Most high; not in such sort<br/> +As man prevails o’er man; but conquers it,<br/> +Because ’tis willing to be conquer’d, still,<br/> +Though conquer’d, by its mercy conquering. +</p> + +<p> +“Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth,<br/> +Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold’st<br/> +The region of the angels deck’d with them.<br/> +They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem’st,<br/> +Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith,<br/> +This of the feet in future to be pierc’d,<br/> +That of feet nail’d already to the cross.<br/> +One from the barrier of the dark abyss,<br/> +Where never any with good will returns,<br/> +Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope<br/> +Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing’d<br/> +The prayers sent up to God for his release,<br/> +And put power into them to bend his will.<br/> +The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee,<br/> +A little while returning to the flesh,<br/> +Believ’d in him, who had the means to help,<br/> +And, in believing, nourish’d such a flame<br/> +Of holy love, that at the second death<br/> +He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth.<br/> +The other, through the riches of that grace,<br/> +Which from so deep a fountain doth distil,<br/> +As never eye created saw its rising,<br/> +Plac’d all his love below on just and right:<br/> +Wherefore of grace God op’d in him the eye<br/> +To the redemption of mankind to come;<br/> +Wherein believing, he endur’d no more<br/> +The filth of paganism, and for their ways<br/> +Rebuk’d the stubborn nations. The three nymphs,<br/> +Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing,<br/> +Were sponsors for him more than thousand years<br/> +Before baptizing. O how far remov’d,<br/> +Predestination! is thy root from such<br/> +As see not the First cause entire: and ye,<br/> +O mortal men! be wary how ye judge:<br/> +For we, who see our Maker, know not yet<br/> +The number of the chosen: and esteem<br/> +Such scantiness of knowledge our delight:<br/> +For all our good is in that primal good<br/> +Concentrate, and God’s will and ours are one.” +</p> + +<p> +So, by that form divine, was giv’n to me<br/> +Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight,<br/> +And, as one handling skillfully the harp,<br/> +Attendant on some skilful songster’s voice<br/> +Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song<br/> +Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake,<br/> +It doth remember me, that I beheld<br/> +The pair of blessed luminaries move.<br/> +Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes,<br/> +Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXI"></a>CANTO XXI</h2> + +<p> +Again mine eyes were fix’d on Beatrice,<br/> +And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks<br/> +Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore<br/> +And, “Did I smile,” quoth she, “thou wouldst be straight<br/> +Like Semele when into ashes turn’d:<br/> +For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs,<br/> +My beauty, which the loftier it climbs,<br/> +As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more,<br/> +So shines, that, were no temp’ring interpos’d,<br/> +Thy mortal puissance would from its rays<br/> +Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt.<br/> +Into the seventh splendour are we wafted,<br/> +That underneath the burning lion’s breast<br/> +Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might,<br/> +Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror’d<br/> +The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown.”<br/> +Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed<br/> +My sight upon her blissful countenance,<br/> +May know, when to new thoughts I chang’d, what joy<br/> +To do the bidding of my heav’nly guide:<br/> +In equal balance poising either weight. +</p> + +<p> +Within the crystal, which records the name,<br/> +(As its remoter circle girds the world)<br/> +Of that lov’d monarch, in whose happy reign<br/> +No ill had power to harm, I saw rear’d up,<br/> +In colour like to sun-illumin’d gold.<br/> +A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain,<br/> +So lofty was the summit; down whose steps<br/> +I saw the splendours in such multitude<br/> +Descending, ev’ry light in heav’n, methought,<br/> +Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day<br/> +Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill,<br/> +Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some,<br/> +Returning, cross their flight, while some abide<br/> +And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem’d<br/> +That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing,<br/> +As upon certain stair it met, and clash’d<br/> +Its shining. And one ling’ring near us, wax’d<br/> +So bright, that in my thought: said: “The love,<br/> +Which this betokens me, admits no doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +Unwillingly from question I refrain,<br/> +To her, by whom my silence and my speech<br/> +Are order’d, looking for a sign: whence she,<br/> +Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all,<br/> +Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me<br/> +T’ indulge the fervent wish; and I began:<br/> +“I am not worthy, of my own desert,<br/> +That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake,<br/> +Who hath vouchsaf’d my asking, spirit blest!<br/> +That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause,<br/> +Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say,<br/> +Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise<br/> +Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds<br/> +Of rapt devotion ev’ry lower sphere?”<br/> +“Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;”<br/> +Was the reply: “and what forbade the smile<br/> +Of Beatrice interrupts our song.<br/> +Only to yield thee gladness of my voice,<br/> +And of the light that vests me, I thus far<br/> +Descend these hallow’d steps: not that more love<br/> +Invites me; for lo! there aloft, as much<br/> +Or more of love is witness’d in those flames:<br/> +But such my lot by charity assign’d,<br/> +That makes us ready servants, as thou seest,<br/> +To execute the counsel of the Highest.<br/> +“That in this court,” said I, “O sacred lamp!<br/> +Love no compulsion needs, but follows free<br/> +Th’ eternal Providence, I well discern:<br/> +This harder find to deem, why of thy peers<br/> +Thou only to this office wert foredoom’d.”<br/> +I had not ended, when, like rapid mill,<br/> +Upon its centre whirl’d the light; and then<br/> +The love, that did inhabit there, replied:<br/> +“Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds,<br/> +Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus<br/> +Supported, lifts me so above myself,<br/> +That on the sov’ran essence, which it wells from,<br/> +I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy,<br/> +Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze<br/> +The keenness of my sight. But not the soul,<br/> +That is in heav’n most lustrous, nor the seraph<br/> +That hath his eyes most fix’d on God, shall solve<br/> +What thou hast ask’d: for in th’ abyss it lies<br/> +Of th’ everlasting statute sunk so low,<br/> +That no created ken may fathom it.<br/> +And, to the mortal world when thou return’st,<br/> +Be this reported; that none henceforth dare<br/> +Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn.<br/> +The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth<br/> +Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do,<br/> +Below, what passeth her ability,<br/> +When she is ta’en to heav’n.” By words like these<br/> +Admonish’d, I the question urg’d no more;<br/> +And of the spirit humbly sued alone<br/> +T’ instruct me of its state. “’Twixt either shore<br/> +Of Italy, nor distant from thy land,<br/> +A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort,<br/> +The thunder doth not lift his voice so high,<br/> +They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell<br/> +Is sacred to the lonely Eremite,<br/> +For worship set apart and holy rites.”<br/> +A third time thus it spake; then added: “There<br/> +So firmly to God’s service I adher’d,<br/> +That with no costlier viands than the juice<br/> +Of olives, easily I pass’d the heats<br/> +Of summer and the winter frosts, content<br/> +In heav’n-ward musings. Rich were the returns<br/> +And fertile, which that cloister once was us’d<br/> +To render to these heavens: now ’tis fall’n<br/> +Into a waste so empty, that ere long<br/> +Detection must lay bare its vanity<br/> +Pietro Damiano there was I y-clept:<br/> +Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt<br/> +Beside the Adriatic, in the house<br/> +Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close<br/> +Of mortal life, through much importuning<br/> +I was constrain’d to wear the hat that still<br/> +From bad to worse it shifted.—Cephas came;<br/> +He came, who was the Holy Spirit’s vessel,<br/> +Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc’d,<br/> +At the first table. Modern Shepherd’s need<br/> +Those who on either hand may prop and lead them,<br/> +So burly are they grown: and from behind<br/> +Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey’s sides<br/> +Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts<br/> +Are cover’d with one skin. O patience! thou<br/> +That lookst on this and doth endure so long.”<br/> +I at those accents saw the splendours down<br/> +From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax,<br/> +Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this<br/> +They came, and stay’d them; uttered them a shout<br/> +So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I<br/> +Wist what it spake, so deaf’ning was the thunder. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXII"></a>CANTO XXII</h2> + +<p> +Astounded, to the guardian of my steps<br/> +I turn’d me, like the chill, who always runs<br/> +Thither for succour, where he trusteth most,<br/> +And she was like the mother, who her son<br/> +Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice<br/> +Soothes him, and he is cheer’d; for thus she spake,<br/> +Soothing me: “Know’st not thou, thou art in heav’n?<br/> +And know’st not thou, whatever is in heav’n,<br/> +Is holy, and that nothing there is done<br/> +But is done zealously and well? Deem now,<br/> +What change in thee the song, and what my smile<br/> +had wrought, since thus the shout had pow’r to move thee.<br/> +In which couldst thou have understood their prayers,<br/> +The vengeance were already known to thee,<br/> +Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour,<br/> +The sword of heav’n is not in haste to smite,<br/> +Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming,<br/> +Who in desire or fear doth look for it.<br/> +But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view;<br/> +So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold.”<br/> +Mine eyes directing, as she will’d, I saw<br/> +A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew<br/> +By interchange of splendour. I remain’d,<br/> +As one, who fearful of o’er-much presuming,<br/> +Abates in him the keenness of desire,<br/> +Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls,<br/> +One largest and most lustrous onward drew,<br/> +That it might yield contentment to my wish;<br/> +And from within it these the sounds I heard. +</p> + +<p> +“If thou, like me, beheldst the charity<br/> +That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives,<br/> +Were utter’d. But that, ere the lofty bound<br/> +Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee,<br/> +I will make answer even to the thought,<br/> +Which thou hast such respect of. In old days,<br/> +That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,<br/> +Was on its height frequented by a race<br/> +Deceived and ill dispos’d: and I it was,<br/> +Who thither carried first the name of Him,<br/> +Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.<br/> +And such a speeding grace shone over me,<br/> +That from their impious worship I reclaim’d<br/> +The dwellers round about, who with the world<br/> +Were in delusion lost. These other flames,<br/> +The spirits of men contemplative, were all<br/> +Enliven’d by that warmth, whose kindly force<br/> +Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness.<br/> +Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here:<br/> +And here my brethren, who their steps refrain’d<br/> +Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart.” +</p> + +<p> +I answ’ring, thus; “Thy gentle words and kind,<br/> +And this the cheerful semblance, I behold<br/> +Not unobservant, beaming in ye all,<br/> +Have rais’d assurance in me, wakening it<br/> +Full-blossom’d in my bosom, as a rose<br/> +Before the sun, when the consummate flower<br/> +Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee<br/> +Therefore entreat I, father! to declare<br/> +If I may gain such favour, as to gaze<br/> +Upon thine image, by no covering veil’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brother!” he thus rejoin’d, “in the last sphere<br/> +Expect completion of thy lofty aim,<br/> +For there on each desire completion waits,<br/> +And there on mine: where every aim is found<br/> +Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe.<br/> +There all things are as they have ever been:<br/> +For space is none to bound, nor pole divides,<br/> +Our ladder reaches even to that clime,<br/> +And so at giddy distance mocks thy view.<br/> +Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch<br/> +Its topmost round, when it appear’d to him<br/> +With angels laden. But to mount it now<br/> +None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule<br/> +Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves;<br/> +The walls, for abbey rear’d, turned into dens,<br/> +The cowls to sacks choak’d up with musty meal.<br/> +Foul usury doth not more lift itself<br/> +Against God’s pleasure, than that fruit which makes<br/> +The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate’er<br/> +Is in the church’s keeping, all pertains.<br/> +To such, as sue for heav’n’s sweet sake, and not<br/> +To those who in respect of kindred claim,<br/> +Or on more vile allowance. Mortal flesh<br/> +Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not<br/> +From the oak’s birth, unto the acorn’s setting.<br/> +His convent Peter founded without gold<br/> +Or silver; I with pray’rs and fasting mine;<br/> +And Francis his in meek humility.<br/> +And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds,<br/> +Then look what it hath err’d to, thou shalt find<br/> +The white grown murky. Jordan was turn’d back;<br/> +And a less wonder, then the refluent sea,<br/> +May at God’s pleasure work amendment here.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, to his assembly back he drew:<br/> +And they together cluster’d into one,<br/> +Then all roll’d upward like an eddying wind. +</p> + +<p> +The sweet dame beckon’d me to follow them:<br/> +And, by that influence only, so prevail’d<br/> +Over my nature, that no natural motion,<br/> +Ascending or descending here below,<br/> +Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied. +</p> + +<p> +So, reader, as my hope is to return<br/> +Unto the holy triumph, for the which<br/> +I ofttimes wail my sins, and smite my breast,<br/> +Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting<br/> +Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere<br/> +The sign, that followeth Taurus, I beheld,<br/> +And enter’d its precinct. O glorious stars!<br/> +O light impregnate with exceeding virtue!<br/> +To whom whate’er of genius lifteth me<br/> +Above the vulgar, grateful I refer;<br/> +With ye the parent of all mortal life<br/> +Arose and set, when I did first inhale<br/> +The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace<br/> +Vouchsaf’d me entrance to the lofty wheel<br/> +That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed<br/> +My passage at your clime. To you my soul<br/> +Devoutly sighs, for virtue even now<br/> +To meet the hard emprize that draws me on. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,”<br/> +Said Beatrice, “that behooves thy ken<br/> +Be vigilant and clear. And, to this end,<br/> +Or even thou advance thee further, hence<br/> +Look downward, and contemplate, what a world<br/> +Already stretched under our feet there lies:<br/> +So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood,<br/> +Present itself to the triumphal throng,<br/> +Which through the’ etherial concave comes rejoicing.” +</p> + +<p> +I straight obey’d; and with mine eye return’d<br/> +Through all the seven spheres, and saw this globe<br/> +So pitiful of semblance, that perforce<br/> +It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold<br/> +For wisest, who esteems it least: whose thoughts<br/> +Elsewhere are fix’d, him worthiest call and best.<br/> +I saw the daughter of Latona shine<br/> +Without the shadow, whereof late I deem’d<br/> +That dense and rare were cause. Here I sustain’d<br/> +The visage, Hyperion! of thy sun;<br/> +And mark’d, how near him with their circle, round<br/> +Move Maia and Dione; here discern’d<br/> +Jove’s tempering ’twixt his sire and son; and hence<br/> +Their changes and their various aspects<br/> +Distinctly scann’d. Nor might I not descry<br/> +Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift;<br/> +Nor of their several distances not learn.<br/> +This petty area (o’er the which we stride<br/> +So fiercely), as along the eternal twins<br/> +I wound my way, appear’d before me all,<br/> +Forth from the havens stretch’d unto the hills.<br/> +Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes return’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXIII"></a>CANTO XXIII</h2> + +<p> +E’en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower<br/> +Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night,<br/> +With her sweet brood, impatient to descry<br/> +Their wished looks, and to bring home their food,<br/> +In the fond quest unconscious of her toil:<br/> +She, of the time prevenient, on the spray,<br/> +That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze<br/> +Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn,<br/> +Removeth from the east her eager ken;<br/> +So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance<br/> +Wistfully on that region, where the sun<br/> +Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her<br/> +Suspense and wand’ring, I became as one,<br/> +In whom desire is waken’d, and the hope<br/> +Of somewhat new to come fills with delight. +</p> + +<p> +Short space ensued; I was not held, I say,<br/> +Long in expectance, when I saw the heav’n<br/> +Wax more and more resplendent; and, “Behold,”<br/> +Cried Beatrice, “the triumphal hosts<br/> +Of Christ, and all the harvest reap’d at length<br/> +Of thy ascending up these spheres.” Meseem’d,<br/> +That, while she spake her image all did burn,<br/> +And in her eyes such fullness was of joy,<br/> +And I am fain to pass unconstrued by. +</p> + +<p> +As in the calm full moon, when Trivia smiles,<br/> +In peerless beauty, ’mid th’ eternal nympus,<br/> +That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound<br/> +In bright pre-eminence so saw I there,<br/> +O’er million lamps a sun, from whom all drew<br/> +Their radiance as from ours the starry train:<br/> +And through the living light so lustrous glow’d<br/> +The substance, that my ken endur’d it not. +</p> + +<p> +O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide!<br/> +Who cheer’d me with her comfortable words!<br/> +“Against the virtue, that o’erpow’reth thee,<br/> +Avails not to resist. Here is the might,<br/> +And here the wisdom, which did open lay<br/> +The path, that had been yearned for so long,<br/> +Betwixt the heav’n and earth.” Like to the fire,<br/> +That, in a cloud imprison’d doth break out<br/> +Expansive, so that from its womb enlarg’d,<br/> +It falleth against nature to the ground;<br/> +Thus in that heav’nly banqueting my soul<br/> +Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost.<br/> +Holds now remembrance none of what she was. +</p> + +<p> +“Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen<br/> +Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile.” +</p> + +<p> +I was as one, when a forgotten dream<br/> +Doth come across him, and he strives in vain<br/> +To shape it in his fantasy again,<br/> +Whenas that gracious boon was proffer’d me,<br/> +Which never may be cancel’d from the book,<br/> +Wherein the past is written. Now were all<br/> +Those tongues to sound, that have on sweetest milk<br/> +Of Polyhymnia and her sisters fed<br/> +And fatten’d, not with all their help to boot,<br/> +Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth,<br/> +My song might shadow forth that saintly smile,<br/> +flow merely in her saintly looks it wrought.<br/> +And with such figuring of Paradise<br/> +The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets<br/> +A sudden interruption to his road.<br/> +But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme,<br/> +And that ’tis lain upon a mortal shoulder,<br/> +May pardon, if it tremble with the burden.<br/> +The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks<br/> +No unribb’d pinnace, no self-sparing pilot. +</p> + +<p> +“Why doth my face,” said Beatrice, “thus<br/> +Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn<br/> +Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming<br/> +Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the rose,<br/> +Wherein the word divine was made incarnate;<br/> +And here the lilies, by whose odour known<br/> +The way of life was follow’d.” Prompt I heard<br/> +Her bidding, and encounter once again<br/> +The strife of aching vision. As erewhile,<br/> +Through glance of sunlight, stream’d through broken cloud,<br/> +Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen,<br/> +Though veil’d themselves in shade; so saw I there<br/> +Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays<br/> +Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not<br/> +The fountain whence they flow’d. O gracious virtue!<br/> +Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up<br/> +Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room<br/> +To my o’erlabour’d sight: when at the name<br/> +Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke<br/> +Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might<br/> +Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix’d.<br/> +And, as the bright dimensions of the star<br/> +In heav’n excelling, as once here on earth<br/> +Were, in my eyeballs lively portray’d,<br/> +Lo! from within the sky a cresset fell,<br/> +Circling in fashion of a diadem,<br/> +And girt the star, and hov’ring round it wheel’d. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever melody sounds sweetest here,<br/> +And draws the spirit most unto itself,<br/> +Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder,<br/> +Compar’d unto the sounding of that lyre,<br/> +Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays<br/> +The floor of heav’n, was crown’d. “ Angelic Love<br/> +I am, who thus with hov’ring flight enwheel<br/> +The lofty rapture from that womb inspir’d,<br/> +Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so,<br/> +Lady of Heav’n! will hover; long as thou<br/> +Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy<br/> +Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere.” +</p> + +<p> +Such close was to the circling melody:<br/> +And, as it ended, all the other lights<br/> +Took up the strain, and echoed Mary’s name. +</p> + +<p> +The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps<br/> +The world, and with the nearer breath of God<br/> +Doth burn and quiver, held so far retir’d<br/> +Its inner hem and skirting over us,<br/> +That yet no glimmer of its majesty<br/> +Had stream’d unto me: therefore were mine eyes<br/> +Unequal to pursue the crowned flame,<br/> +That rose and sought its natal seed of fire;<br/> +And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms<br/> +For very eagerness towards the breast,<br/> +After the milk is taken; so outstretch’d<br/> +Their wavy summits all the fervent band,<br/> +Through zealous love to Mary: then in view<br/> +There halted, and “Regina Coeli “ sang<br/> +So sweetly, the delight hath left me never. +</p> + +<p> +O what o’erflowing plenty is up-pil’d<br/> +In those rich-laden coffers, which below<br/> +Sow’d the good seed, whose harvest now they keep. +</p> + +<p> +Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears<br/> +Were in the Babylonian exile won,<br/> +When gold had fail’d them. Here in synod high<br/> +Of ancient council with the new conven’d,<br/> +Under the Son of Mary and of God,<br/> +Victorious he his mighty triumph holds,<br/> +To whom the keys of glory were assign’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXIV"></a>CANTO XXIV</h2> + +<p> +“O ye! in chosen fellowship advanc’d<br/> +To the great supper of the blessed Lamb,<br/> +Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill’d!<br/> +If to this man through God’s grace be vouchsaf’d<br/> +Foretaste of that, which from your table falls,<br/> +Or ever death his fated term prescribe;<br/> +Be ye not heedless of his urgent will;<br/> +But may some influence of your sacred dews<br/> +Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye alway drink,<br/> +Whence flows what most he craves.” Beatrice spake,<br/> +And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres<br/> +On firm-set poles revolving, trail’d a blaze<br/> +Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind<br/> +Their circles in the horologe, so work<br/> +The stated rounds, that to th’ observant eye<br/> +The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last;<br/> +E’en thus their carols weaving variously,<br/> +They by the measure pac’d, or swift, or slow,<br/> +Made me to rate the riches of their joy. +</p> + +<p> +From that, which I did note in beauty most<br/> +Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame<br/> +So bright, as none was left more goodly there.<br/> +Round Beatrice thrice it wheel’d about,<br/> +With so divine a song, that fancy’s ear<br/> +Records it not; and the pen passeth on<br/> +And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech,<br/> +Nor e’en the inward shaping of the brain,<br/> +Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds. +</p> + +<p> +“O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout<br/> +Is with so vehement affection urg’d,<br/> +Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere.” +</p> + +<p> +Such were the accents towards my lady breath’d<br/> +From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay’d:<br/> +To whom she thus: “O everlasting light<br/> +Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord<br/> +Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss<br/> +He bare below! tent this man, as thou wilt,<br/> +With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith,<br/> +By the which thou didst on the billows walk.<br/> +If he in love, in hope, and in belief,<br/> +Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou<br/> +Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld<br/> +In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith<br/> +Has peopled this fair realm with citizens,<br/> +Meet is, that to exalt its glory more,<br/> +Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse.” +</p> + +<p> +Like to the bachelor, who arms himself,<br/> +And speaks not, till the master have propos’d<br/> +The question, to approve, and not to end it;<br/> +So I, in silence, arm’d me, while she spake,<br/> +Summoning up each argument to aid;<br/> +As was behooveful for such questioner,<br/> +And such profession: “As good Christian ought,<br/> +Declare thee, What is faith?” Whereat I rais’d<br/> +My forehead to the light, whence this had breath’d,<br/> +Then turn’d to Beatrice, and in her looks<br/> +Approval met, that from their inmost fount<br/> +I should unlock the waters. “May the grace,<br/> +That giveth me the captain of the church<br/> +For confessor,” said I, “vouchsafe to me<br/> +Apt utterance for my thoughts!” then added: “Sire!<br/> +E’en as set down by the unerring style<br/> +Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspir’d<br/> +To bring Rome in unto the way of life,<br/> +Faith of things hop’d is substance, and the proof<br/> +Of things not seen; and herein doth consist<br/> +Methinks its essence,”—” Rightly hast thou +deem’d,”<br/> +Was answer’d: “if thou well discern, why first<br/> +He hath defin’d it, substance, and then proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“The deep things,” I replied, “which here I scan<br/> +Distinctly, are below from mortal eye<br/> +So hidden, they have in belief alone<br/> +Their being, on which credence hope sublime<br/> +Is built; and therefore substance it intends.<br/> +And inasmuch as we must needs infer<br/> +From such belief our reasoning, all respect<br/> +To other view excluded, hence of proof<br/> +Th’ intention is deriv’d.” Forthwith I heard:<br/> +“If thus, whate’er by learning men attain,<br/> +Were understood, the sophist would want room<br/> +To exercise his wit.” So breath’d the flame<br/> +Of love: then added: “Current is the coin<br/> +Thou utter’st, both in weight and in alloy.<br/> +But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even so glittering and so round,” said I,<br/> +“I not a whit misdoubt of its assay.” +</p> + +<p> +Next issued from the deep imbosom’d splendour:<br/> +“Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which<br/> +Is founded every virtue, came to thee.”<br/> +“The flood,” I answer’d, “from the Spirit of God<br/> +Rain’d down upon the ancient bond and new,—<br/> +Here is the reas’ning, that convinceth me<br/> +So feelingly, each argument beside<br/> +Seems blunt and forceless in comparison.”<br/> +Then heard I: “Wherefore holdest thou that each,<br/> +The elder proposition and the new,<br/> +Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav’n?” +</p> + +<p> +“The works, that follow’d, evidence their truth; “<br/> +I answer’d: “Nature did not make for these<br/> +The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them.”<br/> +“Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,<br/> +Was the reply, “that they in very deed<br/> +Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee.” +</p> + +<p> +“That all the world,” said I, “should have bee +turn’d<br/> +To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,<br/> +Would in itself be such a miracle,<br/> +The rest were not an hundredth part so great.<br/> +E’en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger<br/> +To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,<br/> +It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble.”<br/> +That ended, through the high celestial court<br/> +Resounded all the spheres. “Praise we one God!”<br/> +In song of most unearthly melody.<br/> +And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch,<br/> +Examining, had led me, that we now<br/> +Approach’d the topmost bough, he straight resum’d;<br/> +“The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul,<br/> +So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos’d<br/> +That, whatsoe’er has past them, I commend.<br/> +Behooves thee to express, what thou believ’st,<br/> +The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown.” +</p> + +<p> +“O saintly sire and spirit!” I began,<br/> +“Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,<br/> +As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,<br/> +Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here,<br/> +That I the tenour of my creed unfold;<br/> +And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask’d.<br/> +And I reply: I in one God believe,<br/> +One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love<br/> +All heav’n is mov’d, himself unmov’d the while.<br/> +Nor demonstration physical alone,<br/> +Or more intelligential and abstruse,<br/> +Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth<br/> +It cometh to me rather, which is shed<br/> +Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.<br/> +The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write,<br/> +When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.<br/> +In three eternal Persons I believe,<br/> +Essence threefold and one, mysterious league<br/> +Of union absolute, which, many a time,<br/> +The word of gospel lore upon my mind<br/> +Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark,<br/> +The lively flame dilates, and like heav’n’s star<br/> +Doth glitter in me.” As the master hears,<br/> +Well pleas’d, and then enfoldeth in his arms<br/> +The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,<br/> +And having told the errand keeps his peace;<br/> +Thus benediction uttering with song<br/> +Soon as my peace I held, compass’d me thrice<br/> +The apostolic radiance, whose behest<br/> +Had op’d lips; so well their answer pleas’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXV"></a>CANTO XXV</h2> + +<p> +If e’er the sacred poem that hath made<br/> +Both heav’n and earth copartners in its toil,<br/> +And with lean abstinence, through many a year,<br/> +Faded my brow, be destin’d to prevail<br/> +Over the cruelty, which bars me forth<br/> +Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb<br/> +The wolves set on and fain had worried me,<br/> +With other voice and fleece of other grain<br/> +I shall forthwith return, and, standing up<br/> +At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath<br/> +Due to the poet’s temples: for I there<br/> +First enter’d on the faith which maketh souls<br/> +Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,<br/> +Peter had then circled my forehead thus. +</p> + +<p> +Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth<br/> +The first fruit of Christ’s vicars on the earth,<br/> +Toward us mov’d a light, at view whereof<br/> +My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:<br/> +“Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might,<br/> +That makes Falicia throng’d with visitants!” +</p> + +<p> +As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,<br/> +In circles each about the other wheels,<br/> +And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I<br/> +One, of the other great and glorious prince,<br/> +With kindly greeting hail’d, extolling both<br/> +Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end<br/> +Was to their gratulation, silent, each,<br/> +Before me sat they down, so burning bright,<br/> +I could not look upon them. Smiling then,<br/> +Beatrice spake: “O life in glory shrin’d!”<br/> +Who didst the largess of our kingly court<br/> +Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice<br/> +Of hope the praises in this height resound.<br/> +For thou, who figur’st them in shapes, as clear,<br/> +As Jesus stood before thee, well can’st speak them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust:<br/> +For that, which hither from the mortal world<br/> +Arriveth, must be ripen’d in our beam.” +</p> + +<p> +Such cheering accents from the second flame<br/> +Assur’d me; and mine eyes I lifted up<br/> +Unto the mountains that had bow’d them late<br/> +With over-heavy burden. “Sith our Liege<br/> +Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,<br/> +In the most secret council, with his lords<br/> +Shouldst be confronted, so that having view’d<br/> +The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith<br/> +Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate<br/> +With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,<br/> +What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,<br/> +And whence thou hadst it?” Thus proceeding still,<br/> +The second light: and she, whose gentle love<br/> +My soaring pennons in that lofty flight<br/> +Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin’d:<br/> +Among her sons, not one more full of hope,<br/> +Hath the church militant: so ’tis of him<br/> +Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb<br/> +Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term<br/> +Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,<br/> +From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see.<br/> +The other points, both which thou hast inquir’d,<br/> +Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell<br/> +How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him<br/> +Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,<br/> +And without boasting, so God give him grace.”<br/> +Like to the scholar, practis’d in his task,<br/> +Who, willing to give proof of diligence,<br/> +Seconds his teacher gladly, “Hope,” said I,<br/> +“Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,<br/> +Th’ effect of grace divine and merit preceding.<br/> +This light from many a star visits my heart,<br/> +But flow’d to me the first from him, who sang<br/> +The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme<br/> +Among his tuneful brethren. ‘Let all hope<br/> +In thee,’ so speak his anthem, ‘who have known<br/> +Thy name;’ and with my faith who know not that?<br/> +From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,<br/> +In thine epistle, fell on me the drops<br/> +So plenteously, that I on others shower<br/> +The influence of their dew.” Whileas I spake,<br/> +A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning,<br/> +Within the bosom of that mighty sheen,<br/> +Play’d tremulous; then forth these accents breath’d:<br/> +“Love for the virtue which attended me<br/> +E’en to the palm, and issuing from the field,<br/> +Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires<br/> +To ask of thee, whom also it delights;<br/> +What promise thou from hope in chief dost win.” +</p> + +<p> +“Both scriptures, new and ancient,” I reply’d;<br/> +“Propose the mark (which even now I view)<br/> +For souls belov’d of God. Isaias saith, +</p> + +<p> +That, in their own land, each one must be clad<br/> +In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life.<br/> +In terms more full,<br/> +And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth<br/> +This revelation to us, where he tells<br/> +Of the white raiment destin’d to the saints.”<br/> +And, as the words were ending, from above,<br/> +“They hope in thee,” first heard we cried: whereto<br/> +Answer’d the carols all. Amidst them next,<br/> +A light of so clear amplitude emerg’d,<br/> +That winter’s month were but a single day,<br/> +Were such a crystal in the Cancer’s sign. +</p> + +<p> +Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,<br/> +And enters on the mazes of the dance,<br/> +Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,<br/> +Than to do fitting honour to the bride;<br/> +So I beheld the new effulgence come<br/> +Unto the other two, who in a ring<br/> +Wheel’d, as became their rapture. In the dance<br/> +And in the song it mingled. And the dame<br/> +Held on them fix’d her looks: e’en as the spouse<br/> +Silent and moveless. “This is he, who lay<br/> +Upon the bosom of our pelican:<br/> +This he, into whose keeping from the cross<br/> +The mighty charge was given.” Thus she spake,<br/> +Yet therefore naught the more remov’d her Sight<br/> +From marking them, or ere her words began,<br/> +Or when they clos’d. As he, who looks intent,<br/> +And strives with searching ken, how he may see<br/> +The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire<br/> +Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I<br/> +Peer’d on that last resplendence, while I heard:<br/> +“Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,<br/> +Which here abides not? Earth my body is,<br/> +In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long,<br/> +As till our number equal the decree<br/> +Of the Most High. The two that have ascended,<br/> +In this our blessed cloister, shine alone<br/> +With the two garments. So report below.” +</p> + +<p> +As when, for ease of labour, or to shun<br/> +Suspected peril at a whistle’s breath,<br/> +The oars, erewhile dash’d frequent in the wave,<br/> +All rest; the flamy circle at that voice<br/> +So rested, and the mingling sound was still,<br/> +Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose.<br/> +I turn’d, but ah! how trembled in my thought,<br/> +When, looking at my side again to see<br/> +Beatrice, I descried her not, although<br/> +Not distant, on the happy coast she stood. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXVI"></a>CANTO XXVI</h2> + +<p> +With dazzled eyes, whilst wond’ring I remain’d,<br/> +Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,<br/> +Issued a breath, that in attention mute<br/> +Detain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well,<br/> +That, long as till thy vision, on my form<br/> +O’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse<br/> +Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then,<br/> +Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:<br/> +And meanwhile rest assur’d, that sight in thee<br/> +Is but o’erpowered a space, not wholly quench’d:<br/> +Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look<br/> +Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt<br/> +In Ananias’ hand.” I answering thus:<br/> +“Be to mine eyes the remedy or late<br/> +Or early, at her pleasure; for they were<br/> +The gates, at which she enter’d, and did light<br/> +Her never dying fire. My wishes here<br/> +Are centered; in this palace is the weal,<br/> +That Alpha and Omega, is to all<br/> +The lessons love can read me.” Yet again<br/> +The voice which had dispers’d my fear, when daz’d<br/> +With that excess, to converse urg’d, and spake:<br/> +“Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms,<br/> +And say, who level’d at this scope thy bow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Philosophy,” said I, “hath arguments,<br/> +And this place hath authority enough<br/> +’T’ imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,<br/> +Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,<br/> +Kindles our love, and in degree the more,<br/> +As it comprises more of goodness in ’t.<br/> +The essence then, where such advantage is,<br/> +That each good, found without it, is naught else<br/> +But of his light the beam, must needs attract<br/> +The soul of each one, loving, who the truth<br/> +Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth<br/> +Learn I from him, who shows me the first love<br/> +Of all intelligential substances<br/> +Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word<br/> +Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith,<br/> +‘I will make all my good before thee pass.’<br/> +Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st,<br/> +E’en at the outset of thy heralding,<br/> +In mortal ears the mystery of heav’n.” +</p> + +<p> +“Through human wisdom, and th’ authority<br/> +Therewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keep<br/> +The choicest of thy love for God. But say,<br/> +If thou yet other cords within thee feel’st<br/> +That draw thee towards him; so that thou report<br/> +How many are the fangs, with which this love<br/> +Is grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss,<br/> +To what intent the eagle of our Lord<br/> +Had pointed his demand; yea noted well<br/> +Th’ avowal, which he led to; and resum’d:<br/> +“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,<br/> +Confederate to make fast our clarity.<br/> +The being of the world, and mine own being,<br/> +The death which he endur’d that I should live,<br/> +And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do,<br/> +To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d,<br/> +Have from the sea of ill love sav’d my bark,<br/> +And on the coast secur’d it of the right.<br/> +As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom,<br/> +My love for them is great, as is the good<br/> +Dealt by th’ eternal hand, that tends them all.” +</p> + +<p> +I ended, and therewith a song most sweet<br/> +Rang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,”<br/> +Accordant with the rest my lady sang.<br/> +And as a sleep is broken and dispers’d<br/> +Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,<br/> +With the eye’s spirit running forth to meet<br/> +The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg’d;<br/> +And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees;<br/> +So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems<br/> +Of all around him, till assurance waits<br/> +On better judgment: thus the saintly came<br/> +Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,<br/> +With the resplendence of her own, that cast<br/> +Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.<br/> +Whence I my vision, clearer shall before,<br/> +Recover’d; and, well nigh astounded, ask’d<br/> +Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw. +</p> + +<p> +And Beatrice: “The first diving soul,<br/> +That ever the first virtue fram’d, admires<br/> +Within these rays his Maker.” Like the leaf,<br/> +That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;<br/> +By its own virtue rear’d then stands aloof;<br/> +So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow’d.<br/> +Then eagerness to speak embolden’d me;<br/> +And I began: “O fruit! that wast alone<br/> +Mature, when first engender’d! Ancient father!<br/> +That doubly seest in every wedded bride<br/> +Thy daughter by affinity and blood!<br/> +Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold<br/> +Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I,<br/> +More speedily to hear thee, tell it not “ +</p> + +<p> +It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,<br/> +Through the sleek cov’ring of his furry coat.<br/> +The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms<br/> +His outside seeming to the cheer within:<br/> +And in like guise was Adam’s spirit mov’d<br/> +To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,<br/> +Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:<br/> +“No need thy will be told, which I untold<br/> +Better discern, than thou whatever thing<br/> +Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see<br/> +In Him, who is truth’s mirror, and Himself<br/> +Parhelion unto all things, and naught else<br/> +To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since God<br/> +Plac’d me high garden, from whose hounds<br/> +She led me up in this ladder, steep and long;<br/> +What space endur’d my season of delight;<br/> +Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me;<br/> +And what the language, which I spake and fram’d<br/> +Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,<br/> +Was in itself the cause of that exile,<br/> +But only my transgressing of the mark<br/> +Assign’d me. There, whence at thy lady’s hest<br/> +The Mantuan mov’d him, still was I debarr’d<br/> +This council, till the sun had made complete,<br/> +Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,<br/> +His annual journey; and, through every light<br/> +In his broad pathway, saw I him return,<br/> +Thousand save sev’nty times, the whilst I dwelt<br/> +Upon the earth. The language I did use<br/> +Was worn away, or ever Nimrod’s race<br/> +Their unaccomplishable work began.<br/> +For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting,<br/> +Left by his reason free, and variable,<br/> +As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks,<br/> +Is nature’s prompting: whether thus or thus,<br/> +She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.<br/> +Ere I descended into hell’s abyss,<br/> +El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,<br/> +Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’d<br/> +And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use<br/> +Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes,<br/> +And other comes instead. Upon the mount<br/> +Most high above the waters, all my life,<br/> +Both innocent and guilty, did but reach<br/> +From the first hour, to that which cometh next<br/> +(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXVII"></a>CANTO XXVII</h2> + +<p> +Then “Glory to the Father, to the Son,<br/> +And to the Holy Spirit,” rang aloud<br/> +Throughout all Paradise, that with the song<br/> +My spirit reel’d, so passing sweet the strain:<br/> +And what I saw was equal ecstasy;<br/> +One universal smile it seem’d of all things,<br/> +Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,<br/> +Imperishable life of peace and love,<br/> +Exhaustless riches and unmeasur’d bliss. +</p> + +<p> +Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;<br/> +And that, which first had come, began to wax<br/> +In brightness, and in semblance such became,<br/> +As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,<br/> +And interchang’d their plumes. Silence ensued,<br/> +Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints<br/> +Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin’d;<br/> +When thus I heard: “Wonder not, if my hue<br/> +Be chang’d; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see<br/> +All in like manner change with me. My place<br/> +He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,<br/> +Which in the presence of the Son of God<br/> +Is void), the same hath made my cemetery<br/> +A common sewer of puddle and of blood:<br/> +The more below his triumph, who from hence<br/> +Malignant fell.” Such colour, as the sun,<br/> +At eve or morning, paints and adverse cloud,<br/> +Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.<br/> +And as th’ unblemish’d dame, who in herself<br/> +Secure of censure, yet at bare report<br/> +Of other’s failing, shrinks with maiden fear;<br/> +So Beatrice in her semblance chang’d:<br/> +And such eclipse in heav’n methinks was seen,<br/> +When the Most Holy suffer’d. Then the words<br/> +Proceeded, with voice, alter’d from itself<br/> +So clean, the semblance did not alter more.<br/> +“Not to this end was Christ’s spouse with my blood,<br/> +With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:<br/> +That she might serve for purchase of base gold:<br/> +But for the purchase of this happy life<br/> +Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,<br/> +And Urban, they, whose doom was not without<br/> +Much weeping seal’d. No purpose was of our<br/> +That on the right hand of our successors<br/> +Part of the Christian people should be set,<br/> +And part upon their left; nor that the keys,<br/> +Which were vouchsaf’d me, should for ensign serve<br/> +Unto the banners, that do levy war<br/> +On the baptiz’d: nor I, for sigil-mark<br/> +Set upon sold and lying privileges;<br/> +Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red.<br/> +In shepherd’s clothing greedy wolves below<br/> +Range wide o’er all the pastures. Arm of God!<br/> +Why longer sleepst thou? Caorsines and Gascona<br/> +Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning<br/> +To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop!<br/> +But the high providence, which did defend<br/> +Through Scipio the world’s glory unto Rome,<br/> +Will not delay its succour: and thou, son,<br/> +Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again<br/> +Return below, open thy lips, nor hide<br/> +What is by me not hidden.” As a Hood<br/> +Of frozen vapours streams adown the air,<br/> +What time the she-goat with her skiey horn<br/> +Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide<br/> +The vapours, who with us had linger’d late<br/> +And with glad triumph deck th’ ethereal cope.<br/> +Onward my sight their semblances pursued;<br/> +So far pursued, as till the space between<br/> +From its reach sever’d them: whereat the guide<br/> +Celestial, marking me no more intent<br/> +On upward gazing, said, “Look down and see<br/> +What circuit thou hast compass’d.” From the hour<br/> +When I before had cast my view beneath,<br/> +All the first region overpast I saw,<br/> +Which from the midmost to the bound’ry winds;<br/> +That onward thence from Gades I beheld<br/> +The unwise passage of Laertes’ son,<br/> +And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa!<br/> +Mad’st thee a joyful burden: and yet more<br/> +Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun,<br/> +A constellation off and more, had ta’en<br/> +His progress in the zodiac underneath. +</p> + +<p> +Then by the spirit, that doth never leave<br/> +Its amorous dalliance with my lady’s looks,<br/> +Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes<br/> +Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles,<br/> +Whenas I turn’d me, pleasure so divine<br/> +Did lighten on me, that whatever bait<br/> +Or art or nature in the human flesh,<br/> +Or in its limn’d resemblance, can combine<br/> +Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal,<br/> +Were to her beauty nothing. Its boon influence<br/> +From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth,<br/> +And wafted on into the swiftest heav’n. +</p> + +<p> +What place for entrance Beatrice chose,<br/> +I may not say, so uniform was all,<br/> +Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish<br/> +Divin’d; and with such gladness, that God’s love<br/> +Seem’d from her visage shining, thus began:<br/> +“Here is the goal, whence motion on his race<br/> +Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest<br/> +All mov’d around. Except the soul divine,<br/> +Place in this heav’n is none, the soul divine,<br/> +Wherein the love, which ruleth o’er its orb,<br/> +Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds;<br/> +One circle, light and love, enclasping it,<br/> +As this doth clasp the others; and to Him,<br/> +Who draws the bound, its limit only known.<br/> +Measur’d itself by none, it doth divide<br/> +Motion to all, counted unto them forth,<br/> +As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten.<br/> +The vase, wherein time’s roots are plung’d, thou seest,<br/> +Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust!<br/> +That canst not lift thy head above the waves<br/> +Which whelm and sink thee down! The will in man<br/> +Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise<br/> +Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain,<br/> +Made mere abortion: faith and innocence<br/> +Are met with but in babes, each taking leave<br/> +Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts,<br/> +While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose<br/> +Gluts every food alike in every moon.<br/> +One yet a babbler, loves and listens to<br/> +His mother; but no sooner hath free use<br/> +Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave.<br/> +So suddenly doth the fair child of him,<br/> +Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,<br/> +To negro blackness change her virgin white. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none<br/> +Bears rule in earth, and its frail family<br/> +Are therefore wand’rers. Yet before the date,<br/> +When through the hundredth in his reck’ning drops<br/> +Pale January must be shor’d aside<br/> +From winter’s calendar, these heav’nly spheres<br/> +Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain<br/> +To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow;<br/> +So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit,<br/> +Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXVIII"></a>CANTO XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +So she who doth imparadise my soul,<br/> +Had drawn the veil from off our pleasant life,<br/> +And bar’d the truth of poor mortality;<br/> +When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies<br/> +The shining of a flambeau at his back,<br/> +Lit sudden ore he deem of its approach,<br/> +And turneth to resolve him, if the glass<br/> +Have told him true, and sees the record faithful<br/> +As note is to its metre; even thus,<br/> +I well remember, did befall to me,<br/> +Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love<br/> +Had made the leash to take me. As I turn’d;<br/> +And that, which, in their circles, none who spies,<br/> +Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck<br/> +On mine; a point I saw, that darted light<br/> +So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up<br/> +Against its keenness. The least star we view<br/> +From hence, had seem’d a moon, set by its side,<br/> +As star by side of star. And so far off,<br/> +Perchance, as is the halo from the light<br/> +Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads,<br/> +There wheel’d about the point a circle of fire,<br/> +More rapid than the motion, which first girds<br/> +The world. Then, circle after circle, round<br/> +Enring’d each other; till the seventh reach’d<br/> +Circumference so ample, that its bow,<br/> +Within the span of Juno’s messenger,<br/> +lied scarce been held entire. Beyond the sev’nth,<br/> +Follow’d yet other two. And every one,<br/> +As more in number distant from the first,<br/> +Was tardier in motion; and that glow’d<br/> +With flame most pure, that to the sparkle’ of truth<br/> +Was nearest, as partaking most, methinks,<br/> +Of its reality. The guide belov’d<br/> +Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake:<br/> +“Heav’n, and all nature, hangs upon that point.<br/> +The circle thereto most conjoin’d observe;<br/> +And know, that by intenser love its course<br/> +Is to this swiftness wing’d. “To whom I thus:<br/> +“It were enough; nor should I further seek,<br/> +Had I but witness’d order, in the world<br/> +Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen.<br/> +But in the sensible world such diff’rence is,<br/> +That is each round shows more divinity,<br/> +As each is wider from the centre. Hence,<br/> +If in this wondrous and angelic temple,<br/> +That hath for confine only light and love,<br/> +My wish may have completion I must know,<br/> +Wherefore such disagreement is between<br/> +Th’ exemplar and its copy: for myself,<br/> +Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil’d<br/> +Do leave the knot untied: so hard ’tis grown<br/> +For want of tenting.” Thus she said: “But take,”<br/> +She added, “if thou wish thy cure, my words,<br/> +And entertain them subtly. Every orb<br/> +Corporeal, doth proportion its extent<br/> +Unto the virtue through its parts diffus’d.<br/> +The greater blessedness preserves the more.<br/> +The greater is the body (if all parts<br/> +Share equally) the more is to preserve.<br/> +Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels<br/> +The universal frame answers to that,<br/> +Which is supreme in knowledge and in love<br/> +Thus by the virtue, not the seeming, breadth<br/> +Of substance, measure, thou shalt see the heav’ns,<br/> +Each to the’ intelligence that ruleth it,<br/> +Greater to more, and smaller unto less,<br/> +Suited in strict and wondrous harmony.” +</p> + +<p> +As when the sturdy north blows from his cheek<br/> +A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air,<br/> +Clear’d of the rack, that hung on it before,<br/> +Glitters; and, With his beauties all unveil’d,<br/> +The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles;<br/> +Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove<br/> +With clear reply the shadows back, and truth<br/> +Was manifested, as a star in heaven.<br/> +And when the words were ended, not unlike<br/> +To iron in the furnace, every cirque<br/> +Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires:<br/> +And every sparkle shivering to new blaze,<br/> +In number did outmillion the account<br/> +Reduplicate upon the chequer’d board.<br/> +Then heard I echoing on from choir to choir,<br/> +“Hosanna,” to the fixed point, that holds,<br/> +And shall for ever hold them to their place,<br/> +From everlasting, irremovable. +</p> + +<p> +Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw<br/> +by inward meditations, thus began:<br/> +“In the first circles, they, whom thou beheldst,<br/> +Are seraphim and cherubim. Thus swift<br/> +Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point,<br/> +Near as they can, approaching; and they can<br/> +The more, the loftier their vision. Those,<br/> +That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next,<br/> +Are thrones; in whom the first trine ends. And all<br/> +Are blessed, even as their sight descends<br/> +Deeper into the truth, wherein rest is<br/> +For every mind. Thus happiness hath root<br/> +In seeing, not in loving, which of sight<br/> +Is aftergrowth. And of the seeing such<br/> +The meed, as unto each in due degree<br/> +Grace and good-will their measure have assign’d.<br/> +The other trine, that with still opening buds<br/> +In this eternal springtide blossom fair,<br/> +Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram,<br/> +Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold<br/> +Hosannas blending ever, from the three<br/> +Transmitted. hierarchy of gods, for aye<br/> +Rejoicing, dominations first, next then<br/> +Virtues, and powers the third. The next to whom<br/> +Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round<br/> +To tread their festal ring; and last the band<br/> +Angelical, disporting in their sphere.<br/> +All, as they circle in their orders, look<br/> +Aloft, and downward with such sway prevail,<br/> +That all with mutual impulse tend to God.<br/> +These once a mortal view beheld. Desire<br/> +In Dionysius so intently wrought,<br/> +That he, as I have done rang’d them; and nam’d<br/> +Their orders, marshal’d in his thought. From him<br/> +Dissentient, one refus’d his sacred read.<br/> +But soon as in this heav’n his doubting eyes<br/> +Were open’d, Gregory at his error smil’d<br/> +Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth<br/> +Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt<br/> +Both this and much beside of these our orbs,<br/> +From an eye-witness to heav’n’s mysteries.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXIX"></a>CANTO XXIX</h2> + +<p> +No longer than what time Latona’s twins<br/> +Cover’d of Libra and the fleecy star,<br/> +Together both, girding the’ horizon hang,<br/> +In even balance from the zenith pois’d,<br/> +Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere,<br/> +Part the nice level; e’en so brief a space<br/> +Did Beatrice’s silence hold. A smile<br/> +Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix’d gaze<br/> +Bent on the point, at which my vision fail’d:<br/> +When thus her words resuming she began:<br/> +“I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand;<br/> +For I have mark’d it, where all time and place<br/> +Are present. Not for increase to himself<br/> +Of good, which may not be increas’d, but forth<br/> +To manifest his glory by its beams,<br/> +Inhabiting his own eternity,<br/> +Beyond time’s limit or what bound soe’er<br/> +To circumscribe his being, as he will’d,<br/> +Into new natures, like unto himself,<br/> +Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before,<br/> +As if in dull inaction torpid lay.<br/> +For not in process of before or aft<br/> +Upon these waters mov’d the Spirit of God.<br/> +Simple and mix’d, both form and substance, forth<br/> +To perfect being started, like three darts<br/> +Shot from a bow three-corded. And as ray<br/> +In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire,<br/> +E’en at the moment of its issuing; thus<br/> +Did, from th’ eternal Sovran, beam entire<br/> +His threefold operation, at one act<br/> +Produc’d coeval. Yet in order each<br/> +Created his due station knew: those highest,<br/> +Who pure intelligence were made: mere power<br/> +The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league,<br/> +Intelligence and power, unsever’d bond.<br/> +Long tract of ages by the angels past,<br/> +Ere the creating of another world,<br/> +Describ’d on Jerome’s pages thou hast seen.<br/> +But that what I disclose to thee is true,<br/> +Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov’d<br/> +In many a passage of their sacred book<br/> +Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find<br/> +And reason in some sort discerns the same,<br/> +Who scarce would grant the heav’nly ministers<br/> +Of their perfection void, so long a space.<br/> +Thus when and where these spirits of love were made,<br/> +Thou know’st, and how: and knowing hast allay’d<br/> +Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose.<br/> +Ere one had reckon’d twenty, e’en so soon<br/> +Part of the angels fell: and in their fall<br/> +Confusion to your elements ensued.<br/> +The others kept their station: and this task,<br/> +Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight,<br/> +That they surcease not ever, day nor night,<br/> +Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause<br/> +Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen<br/> +Pent with the world’s incumbrance. Those, whom here<br/> +Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves<br/> +Of his free bounty, who had made them apt<br/> +For ministries so high: therefore their views<br/> +Were by enlight’ning grace and their own merit<br/> +Exalted; so that in their will confirm’d<br/> +They stand, nor feel to fall. For do not doubt,<br/> +But to receive the grace, which heav’n vouchsafes,<br/> +Is meritorious, even as the soul<br/> +With prompt affection welcometh the guest.<br/> +Now, without further help, if with good heed<br/> +My words thy mind have treasur’d, thou henceforth<br/> +This consistory round about mayst scan,<br/> +And gaze thy fill. But since thou hast on earth<br/> +Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools,<br/> +Canvas the’ angelic nature, and dispute<br/> +Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice;<br/> +Therefore, ’tis well thou take from me the truth,<br/> +Pure and without disguise, which they below,<br/> +Equivocating, darken and perplex. +</p> + +<p> +“Know thou, that, from the first, these substances,<br/> +Rejoicing in the countenance of God,<br/> +Have held unceasingly their view, intent<br/> +Upon the glorious vision, from the which<br/> +Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change<br/> +Of newness with succession interrupts,<br/> +Remembrance there needs none to gather up<br/> +Divided thought and images remote +</p> + +<p> +“So that men, thus at variance with the truth<br/> +Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some<br/> +Of error; others well aware they err,<br/> +To whom more guilt and shame are justly due.<br/> +Each the known track of sage philosophy<br/> +Deserts, and has a byway of his own:<br/> +So much the restless eagerness to shine<br/> +And love of singularity prevail.<br/> +Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes<br/> +Heav’n’s anger less, than when the book of God<br/> +Is forc’d to yield to man’s authority,<br/> +Or from its straightness warp’d: no reck’ning made<br/> +What blood the sowing of it in the world<br/> +Has cost; what favour for himself he wins,<br/> +Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all<br/> +Is how to shine: e’en they, whose office is<br/> +To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep,<br/> +And pass their own inventions off instead.<br/> +One tells, how at Christ’s suffering the wan moon<br/> +Bent back her steps, and shadow’d o’er the sun<br/> +With intervenient disk, as she withdrew:<br/> +Another, how the light shrouded itself<br/> +Within its tabernacle, and left dark<br/> +The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew.<br/> +Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears,<br/> +Bandied about more frequent, than the names<br/> +Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets.<br/> +The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return<br/> +From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails<br/> +For their excuse, they do not see their harm?<br/> +Christ said not to his first conventicle,<br/> +‘Go forth and preach impostures to the world,’<br/> +But gave them truth to build on; and the sound<br/> +Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they,<br/> +Beside the gospel, other spear or shield,<br/> +To aid them in their warfare for the faith.<br/> +The preacher now provides himself with store<br/> +Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack<br/> +Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl<br/> +Distends, and he has won the meed he sought:<br/> +Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while<br/> +Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood,<br/> +They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said.<br/> +Which now the dotards hold in such esteem,<br/> +That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad<br/> +The hands of holy promise, finds a throng<br/> +Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony<br/> +Fattens with this his swine, and others worse<br/> +Than swine, who diet at his lazy board,<br/> +Paying with unstamp’d metal for their fare. +</p> + +<p> +“But (for we far have wander’d) let us seek<br/> +The forward path again; so as the way<br/> +Be shorten’d with the time. No mortal tongue<br/> +Nor thought of man hath ever reach’d so far,<br/> +That of these natures he might count the tribes.<br/> +What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal’d<br/> +With finite number infinite conceals.<br/> +The fountain at whose source these drink their beams,<br/> +With light supplies them in as many modes,<br/> +As there are splendours, that it shines on: each<br/> +According to the virtue it conceives,<br/> +Differing in love and sweet affection.<br/> +Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth<br/> +The’ eternal might, which, broken and dispers’d<br/> +Over such countless mirrors, yet remains<br/> +Whole in itself and one, as at the first.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXX"></a>CANTO XXX</h2> + +<p> +Noon’s fervid hour perchance six thousand miles<br/> +From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone<br/> +Almost to level on our earth declines;<br/> +When from the midmost of this blue abyss<br/> +By turns some star is to our vision lost.<br/> +And straightway as the handmaid of the sun<br/> +Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light,<br/> +Fade, and the spangled firmament shuts in,<br/> +E’en to the loveliest of the glittering throng.<br/> +Thus vanish’d gradually from my sight<br/> +The triumph, which plays ever round the point,<br/> +That overcame me, seeming (for it did)<br/> +Engirt by that it girdeth. Wherefore love,<br/> +With loss of other object, forc’d me bend<br/> +Mine eyes on Beatrice once again. +</p> + +<p> +If all, that hitherto is told of her,<br/> +Were in one praise concluded, ’twere too weak<br/> +To furnish out this turn. Mine eyes did look<br/> +On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth,<br/> +Not merely to exceed our human, but,<br/> +That save its Maker, none can to the full<br/> +Enjoy it. At this point o’erpower’d I fail,<br/> +Unequal to my theme, as never bard<br/> +Of buskin or of sock hath fail’d before.<br/> +For, as the sun doth to the feeblest sight,<br/> +E’en so remembrance of that witching smile<br/> +Hath dispossess my spirit of itself.<br/> +Not from that day, when on this earth I first<br/> +Beheld her charms, up to that view of them,<br/> +Have I with song applausive ever ceas’d<br/> +To follow, but not follow them no more;<br/> +My course here bounded, as each artist’s is,<br/> +When it doth touch the limit of his skill. +</p> + +<p> +She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit<br/> +Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on,<br/> +Urging its arduous matter to the close),<br/> +Her words resum’d, in gesture and in voice<br/> +Resembling one accustom’d to command:<br/> +“Forth from the last corporeal are we come<br/> +Into the heav’n, that is unbodied light,<br/> +Light intellectual replete with love,<br/> +Love of true happiness replete with joy,<br/> +Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight.<br/> +Here shalt thou look on either mighty host<br/> +Of Paradise; and one in that array,<br/> +Which in the final judgment thou shalt see.” +</p> + +<p> +As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen<br/> +Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes<br/> +The visive spirits dazzled and bedimm’d;<br/> +So, round about me, fulminating streams<br/> +Of living radiance play’d, and left me swath’d<br/> +And veil’d in dense impenetrable blaze.<br/> +Such weal is in the love, that stills this heav’n;<br/> +For its own flame the torch this fitting ever! +</p> + +<p> +No sooner to my list’ning ear had come<br/> +The brief assurance, than I understood<br/> +New virtue into me infus’d, and sight<br/> +Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain<br/> +Excess of light, however pure. I look’d;<br/> +And in the likeness of a river saw<br/> +Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves<br/> +Flash’d up effulgence, as they glided on<br/> +’Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring,<br/> +Incredible how fair; and, from the tide,<br/> +There ever and anon, outstarting, flew<br/> +Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flow’rs<br/> +Did set them, like to rubies chas’d in gold;<br/> +Then, as if drunk with odors, plung’d again<br/> +Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one<br/> +Re’enter’d, still another rose. “The thirst<br/> +Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflam’d,<br/> +To search the meaning of what here thou seest,<br/> +The more it warms thee, pleases me the more.<br/> +But first behooves thee of this water drink,<br/> +Or ere that longing be allay’d.” So spake<br/> +The day-star of mine eyes; then thus subjoin’d:<br/> +“This stream, and these, forth issuing from its gulf,<br/> +And diving back, a living topaz each,<br/> +With all this laughter on its bloomy shores,<br/> +Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth<br/> +They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things<br/> +Are crude; but on thy part is the defect,<br/> +For that thy views not yet aspire so high.”<br/> +Never did babe, that had outslept his wont,<br/> +Rush, with such eager straining, to the milk,<br/> +As I toward the water, bending me,<br/> +To make the better mirrors of mine eyes<br/> +In the refining wave; and, as the eaves<br/> +Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith<br/> +Seem’d it unto me turn’d from length to round,<br/> +Then as a troop of maskers, when they put<br/> +Their vizors off, look other than before,<br/> +The counterfeited semblance thrown aside;<br/> +So into greater jubilee were chang’d<br/> +Those flowers and sparkles, and distinct I saw<br/> +Before me either court of heav’n displac’d. +</p> + +<p> +O prime enlightener! thou who crav’st me strength<br/> +On the high triumph of thy realm to gaze!<br/> +Grant virtue now to utter what I kenn’d,<br/> +Â Â Â Â There is in heav’n a light, whose goodly shine<br/> +Makes the Creator visible to all<br/> +Created, that in seeing him alone<br/> +Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far,<br/> +That the circumference were too loose a zone<br/> +To girdle in the sun. All is one beam,<br/> +Reflected from the summit of the first,<br/> +That moves, which being hence and vigour takes,<br/> +And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes<br/> +Its image mirror’d in the crystal flood,<br/> +As if ’t admire its brave appareling<br/> +Of verdure and of flowers: so, round about,<br/> +Eyeing the light, on more than million thrones,<br/> +Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth<br/> +Has to the skies return’d. How wide the leaves<br/> +Extended to their utmost of this rose,<br/> +Whose lowest step embosoms such a space<br/> +Of ample radiance! Yet, nor amplitude<br/> +Nor height impeded, but my view with ease<br/> +Took in the full dimensions of that joy.<br/> +Near or remote, what there avails, where God<br/> +Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends<br/> +Her sway? Into the yellow of the rose<br/> +Perennial, which in bright expansiveness,<br/> +Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent<br/> +Of praises to the never-wint’ring sun,<br/> +As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace,<br/> +Beatrice led me; and, “Behold,” she said,<br/> +“This fair assemblage! stoles of snowy white<br/> +How numberless! The city, where we dwell,<br/> +Behold how vast! and these our seats so throng’d<br/> +Few now are wanting here! In that proud stall,<br/> +On which, the crown, already o’er its state<br/> +Suspended, holds thine eyes—or ere thyself<br/> +Mayst at the wedding sup,—shall rest the soul<br/> +Of the great Harry, he who, by the world<br/> +Augustas hail’d, to Italy must come,<br/> +Before her day be ripe. But ye are sick,<br/> +And in your tetchy wantonness as blind,<br/> +As is the bantling, that of hunger dies,<br/> +And drives away the nurse. Nor may it be,<br/> +That he, who in the sacred forum sways,<br/> +Openly or in secret, shall with him<br/> +Accordant walk: Whom God will not endure<br/> +I’ th’ holy office long; but thrust him down<br/> +To Simon Magus, where Magna’s priest<br/> +Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXXI"></a>CANTO XXXI</h2> + +<p> +In fashion, as a snow-white rose, lay then<br/> +Before my view the saintly multitude,<br/> +Which in his own blood Christ espous’d. Meanwhile<br/> +That other host, that soar aloft to gaze<br/> +And celebrate his glory, whom they love,<br/> +Hover’d around; and, like a troop of bees,<br/> +Amid the vernal sweets alighting now,<br/> +Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows,<br/> +Flew downward to the mighty flow’r, or rose<br/> +From the redundant petals, streaming back<br/> +Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy.<br/> +Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold;<br/> +The rest was whiter than the driven snow.<br/> +And as they flitted down into the flower,<br/> +From range to range, fanning their plumy loins,<br/> +Whisper’d the peace and ardour, which they won<br/> +From that soft winnowing. Shadow none, the vast<br/> +Interposition of such numerous flight<br/> +Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view<br/> +Obstructed aught. For, through the universe,<br/> +Wherever merited, celestial light<br/> +Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents. +</p> + +<p> +All there, who reign in safety and in bliss,<br/> +Ages long past or new, on one sole mark<br/> +Their love and vision fix’d. O trinal beam<br/> +Of individual star, that charmst them thus,<br/> +Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below! +</p> + +<p> +If the grim brood, from Arctic shores that roam’d,<br/> +(Where helice, forever, as she wheels,<br/> +Sparkles a mother’s fondness on her son)<br/> +Stood in mute wonder ’mid the works of Rome,<br/> +When to their view the Lateran arose<br/> +In greatness more than earthly; I, who then<br/> +From human to divine had past, from time<br/> +Unto eternity, and out of Florence<br/> +To justice and to truth, how might I choose<br/> +But marvel too? ’Twixt gladness and amaze,<br/> +In sooth no will had I to utter aught,<br/> +Or hear. And, as a pilgrim, when he rests<br/> +Within the temple of his vow, looks round<br/> +In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell<br/> +Of all its goodly state: e’en so mine eyes<br/> +Cours’d up and down along the living light,<br/> +Now low, and now aloft, and now around,<br/> +Visiting every step. Looks I beheld,<br/> +Where charity in soft persuasion sat,<br/> +Smiles from within and radiance from above,<br/> +And in each gesture grace and honour high. +</p> + +<p> +So rov’d my ken, and its general form<br/> +All Paradise survey’d: when round I turn’d<br/> +With purpose of my lady to inquire<br/> +Once more of things, that held my thought suspense,<br/> +But answer found from other than I ween’d;<br/> +For, Beatrice, when I thought to see,<br/> +I saw instead a senior, at my side,<br/> +Â Rob’d, as the rest, in glory. Joy benign<br/> +Glow’d in his eye, and o’er his cheek diffus’d,<br/> +With gestures such as spake a father’s love.<br/> +And, “Whither is she vanish’d?” straight I ask’d. +</p> + +<p> +“By Beatrice summon’d,” he replied,<br/> +“I come to aid thy wish. Looking aloft<br/> +To the third circle from the highest, there<br/> +Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit<br/> +Hath plac’d her.” Answering not, mine eyes I rais’d,<br/> +And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow<br/> +A wreath reflecting of eternal beams.<br/> +Not from the centre of the sea so far<br/> +Unto the region of the highest thunder,<br/> +As was my ken from hers; and yet the form<br/> +Came through that medium down, unmix’d and pure, +</p> + +<p> +“O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest!<br/> +Who, for my safety, hast not scorn’d, in hell<br/> +To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark’d!<br/> +For all mine eyes have seen, I, to thy power<br/> +And goodness, virtue owe and grace. Of slave,<br/> +Thou hast to freedom brought me; and no means,<br/> +For my deliverance apt, hast left untried.<br/> +Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep.<br/> +That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole,<br/> +Is loosen’d from this body, it may find<br/> +Favour with thee.” So I my suit preferr’d:<br/> +And she, so distant, as appear’d, look’d down,<br/> +And smil’d; then tow’rds th’ eternal fountain turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +And thus the senior, holy and rever’d:<br/> +“That thou at length mayst happily conclude<br/> +Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatch’d,<br/> +By supplication mov’d and holy love)<br/> +Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large,<br/> +This garden through: for so, by ray divine<br/> +Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount;<br/> +And from heav’n’s queen, whom fervent I adore,<br/> +All gracious aid befriend us; for that I<br/> +Am her own faithful Bernard.” Like a wight,<br/> +Who haply from Croatia wends to see<br/> +Our Veronica, and the while ’tis shown,<br/> +Hangs over it with never-sated gaze,<br/> +And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith<br/> +Unto himself in thought: “And didst thou look<br/> +E’en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God?<br/> +And was this semblance thine?” So gaz’d I then<br/> +Adoring; for the charity of him,<br/> +Who musing, in the world that peace enjoy’d,<br/> +Stood lively before me. “Child of grace!”<br/> +Thus he began: “thou shalt not knowledge gain<br/> +Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held<br/> +Still in this depth below. But search around<br/> +The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy<br/> +Seated in state, the queen, that of this realm<br/> +Is sovran.” Straight mine eyes I rais’d; and bright,<br/> +As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime<br/> +Above th’ horizon, where the sun declines;<br/> +To mine eyes, that upward, as from vale<br/> +To mountain sped, at th’ extreme bound, a part<br/> +Excell’d in lustre all the front oppos’d.<br/> +And as the glow burns ruddiest o’er the wave,<br/> +That waits the sloping beam, which Phaeton<br/> +Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light<br/> +Diminish’d fades, intensest in the midst;<br/> +So burn’d the peaceful oriflamb, and slack’d<br/> +On every side the living flame decay’d.<br/> +And in that midst their sportive pennons wav’d<br/> +Thousands of angels; in resplendence each<br/> +Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee<br/> +And carol, smil’d the Lovely One of heav’n,<br/> +That joy was in the eyes of all the blest. +</p> + +<p> +Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich,<br/> +As is the colouring in fancy’s loom,<br/> +’Twere all too poor to utter the least part<br/> +Of that enchantment. When he saw mine eyes<br/> +Intent on her, that charm’d him, Bernard gaz’d<br/> +With so exceeding fondness, as infus’d<br/> +Ardour into my breast, unfelt before. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXXII"></a>CANTO XXXII</h2> + +<p> +Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high,<br/> +Assum’d the teacher’s part, and mild began:<br/> +“The wound, that Mary clos’d, she open’d first,<br/> +Who sits so beautiful at Mary’s feet.<br/> +The third in order, underneath her, lo!<br/> +Rachel with Beatrice. Sarah next,<br/> +Judith, Rebecca, and the gleaner maid,<br/> +Meek ancestress of him, who sang the songs<br/> +Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood.<br/> +All, as I name them, down from deaf to leaf,<br/> +Are in gradation throned on the rose.<br/> +And from the seventh step, successively,<br/> +Adown the breathing tresses of the flow’r<br/> +Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed.<br/> +For these are a partition wall, whereby<br/> +The sacred stairs are sever’d, as the faith<br/> +In Christ divides them. On this part, where blooms<br/> +Each leaf in full maturity, are set<br/> +Such as in Christ, or ere he came, believ’d.<br/> +On th’ other, where an intersected space<br/> +Yet shows the semicircle void, abide<br/> +All they, who look’d to Christ already come.<br/> +And as our Lady on her glorious stool,<br/> +And they who on their stools beneath her sit,<br/> +This way distinction make: e’en so on his,<br/> +The mighty Baptist that way marks the line<br/> +(He who endur’d the desert and the pains<br/> +Of martyrdom, and for two years of hell,<br/> +Yet still continued holy), and beneath,<br/> +Augustin, Francis, Benedict, and the rest,<br/> +Thus far from round to round. So heav’n’s decree<br/> +Forecasts, this garden equally to fill.<br/> +With faith in either view, past or to come,<br/> +Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves<br/> +Midway the twain compartments, none there are<br/> +Who place obtain for merit of their own,<br/> +But have through others’ merit been advanc’d,<br/> +On set conditions: spirits all releas’d,<br/> +Ere for themselves they had the power to choose.<br/> +And, if thou mark and listen to them well,<br/> +Their childish looks and voice declare as much. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt;<br/> +And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein<br/> +Thy subtle thoughts have bound thee. From this realm<br/> +Excluded, chalice no entrance here may find,<br/> +No more shall hunger, thirst, or sorrow can.<br/> +A law immutable hath establish’d all;<br/> +Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit,<br/> +Exactly, as the finger to the ring.<br/> +It is not therefore without cause, that these,<br/> +O’erspeedy comers to immortal life,<br/> +Are different in their shares of excellence.<br/> +Our Sovran Lord—that settleth this estate<br/> +In love and in delight so absolute,<br/> +That wish can dare no further—every soul,<br/> +Created in his joyous sight to dwell,<br/> +With grace at pleasure variously endows.<br/> +And for a proof th’ effect may well suffice.<br/> +And ’tis moreover most expressly mark’d<br/> +In holy scripture, where the twins are said<br/> +To, have struggled in the womb. Therefore, as grace<br/> +Inweaves the coronet, so every brow<br/> +Weareth its proper hue of orient light.<br/> +And merely in respect to his prime gift,<br/> +Not in reward of meritorious deed,<br/> +Hath each his several degree assign’d.<br/> +In early times with their own innocence<br/> +More was not wanting, than the parents’ faith,<br/> +To save them: those first ages past, behoov’d<br/> +That circumcision in the males should imp<br/> +The flight of innocent wings: but since the day<br/> +Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites<br/> +In Christ accomplish’d, innocence herself<br/> +Must linger yet below. Now raise thy view<br/> +Unto the visage most resembling Christ:<br/> +For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win<br/> +The pow’r to look on him.” Forthwith I saw<br/> +Such floods of gladness on her visage shower’d,<br/> +From holy spirits, winging that profound;<br/> +That, whatsoever I had yet beheld,<br/> +Had not so much suspended me with wonder,<br/> +Or shown me such similitude of God.<br/> +And he, who had to her descended, once,<br/> +On earth, now hail’d in heav’n; and on pois’d wing.<br/> +“Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena,” sang:<br/> +To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court,<br/> +From all parts answ’ring, rang: that holier joy<br/> +Brooded the deep serene. “Father rever’d:<br/> +Who deign’st, for me, to quit the pleasant place,<br/> +Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot!<br/> +Say, who that angel is, that with such glee<br/> +Beholds our queen, and so enamour’d glows<br/> +Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems.”<br/> +So I again resorted to the lore<br/> +Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary’s charms<br/> +Embellish’d, as the sun the morning star;<br/> +Who thus in answer spake: “In him are summ’d,<br/> +Whatever of buxomness and free delight<br/> +May be in Spirit, or in angel, met:<br/> +And so beseems: for that he bare the palm<br/> +Down unto Mary, when the Son of God<br/> +Vouchsaf’d to clothe him in terrestrial weeds.<br/> +Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words,<br/> +And note thou of this just and pious realm<br/> +The chiefest nobles. Those, highest in bliss,<br/> +The twain, on each hand next our empress thron’d,<br/> +Are as it were two roots unto this rose.<br/> +He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste<br/> +Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right,<br/> +That ancient father of the holy church,<br/> +Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys<br/> +Of this sweet flow’r: near whom behold the seer,<br/> +That, ere he died, saw all the grievous times<br/> +Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails<br/> +Was won. And, near unto the other, rests<br/> +The leader, under whom on manna fed<br/> +Th’ ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse.<br/> +On th’ other part, facing to Peter, lo!<br/> +Where Anna sits, so well content to look<br/> +On her lov’d daughter, that with moveless eye<br/> +She chants the loud hosanna: while, oppos’d<br/> +To the first father of your mortal kind,<br/> +Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped,<br/> +When on the edge of ruin clos’d thine eye. +</p> + +<p> +“But (for the vision hasteneth so an end)<br/> +Here break we off, as the good workman doth,<br/> +That shapes the cloak according to the cloth:<br/> +And to the primal love our ken shall rise;<br/> +That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far<br/> +As sight can bear thee. Yet, alas! in sooth<br/> +Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance,<br/> +Thou backward fall’st. Grace then must first be gain’d;<br/> +Her grace, whose might can help thee. Thou in prayer<br/> +Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue,<br/> +Attend, and yield me all thy heart.” He said,<br/> +And thus the saintly orison began. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoIII.XXXIII"></a>CANTO XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +“O virgin mother, daughter of thy Son,<br/> +Created beings all in lowliness<br/> +Surpassing, as in height, above them all,<br/> +Term by th’ eternal counsel pre-ordain’d,<br/> +Ennobler of thy nature, so advanc’d<br/> +In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn,<br/> +Himself, in his own work enclos’d to dwell!<br/> +For in thy womb rekindling shone the love<br/> +Reveal’d, whose genial influence makes now<br/> +This flower to germin in eternal peace!<br/> +Here thou to us, of charity and love,<br/> +Art, as the noon-day torch: and art, beneath,<br/> +To mortal men, of hope a living spring.<br/> +So mighty art thou, lady! and so great,<br/> +That he who grace desireth, and comes not<br/> +To thee for aidance, fain would have desire<br/> +Fly without wings. Nor only him who asks,<br/> +Thy bounty succours, but doth freely oft<br/> +Forerun the asking. Whatsoe’er may be<br/> +Of excellence in creature, pity mild,<br/> +Relenting mercy, large munificence,<br/> +Are all combin’d in thee. Here kneeleth one,<br/> +Who of all spirits hath review’d the state,<br/> +From the world’s lowest gap unto this height.<br/> +Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace<br/> +For virtue, yet more high to lift his ken<br/> +Toward the bliss supreme. And I, who ne’er<br/> +Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself,<br/> +Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer,<br/> +(And pray they be not scant) that thou wouldst drive<br/> +Each cloud of his mortality away;<br/> +That on the sovran pleasure he may gaze.<br/> +This also I entreat of thee, O queen!<br/> +Who canst do what thou wilt! that in him thou<br/> +Wouldst after all he hath beheld, preserve<br/> +Affection sound, and human passions quell.<br/> +Lo! Where, with Beatrice, many a saint<br/> +Stretch their clasp’d hands, in furtherance of my suit!” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes, that heav’n with love and awe regards,<br/> +Fix’d on the suitor, witness’d, how benign<br/> +She looks on pious pray’rs: then fasten’d they<br/> +On th’ everlasting light, wherein no eye<br/> +Of creature, as may well be thought, so far<br/> +Can travel inward. I, meanwhile, who drew<br/> +Near to the limit, where all wishes end,<br/> +The ardour of my wish (for so behooved),<br/> +Ended within me. Beck’ning smil’d the sage,<br/> +That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade,<br/> +Already of myself aloft I look’d;<br/> +For visual strength, refining more and more,<br/> +Bare me into the ray authentical<br/> +Of sovran light. Thenceforward, what I saw,<br/> +Was not for words to speak, nor memory’s self<br/> +To stand against such outrage on her skill.<br/> +As one, who from a dream awaken’d, straight,<br/> +All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains<br/> +Impression of the feeling in his dream;<br/> +E’en such am I: for all the vision dies,<br/> +As ’twere, away; and yet the sense of sweet,<br/> +That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart.<br/> +Thus in the sun-thaw is the snow unseal’d;<br/> +Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost<br/> +The Sybil’s sentence. O eternal beam!<br/> +(Whose height what reach of mortal thought may soar?)<br/> +Yield me again some little particle<br/> +Of what thou then appearedst, give my tongue<br/> +Power, but to leave one sparkle of thy glory,<br/> +Unto the race to come, that shall not lose<br/> +Thy triumph wholly, if thou waken aught<br/> +Of memory in me, and endure to hear<br/> +The record sound in this unequal strain. +</p> + +<p> +Such keenness from the living ray I met,<br/> +That, if mine eyes had turn’d away, methinks,<br/> +I had been lost; but, so embolden’d, on<br/> +I pass’d, as I remember, till my view<br/> +Hover’d the brink of dread infinitude. +</p> + +<p> +O grace! unenvying of thy boon! that gav’st<br/> +Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken<br/> +On th’ everlasting splendour, that I look’d,<br/> +While sight was unconsum’d, and, in that depth,<br/> +Saw in one volume clasp’d of love, whatever<br/> +The universe unfolds; all properties<br/> +Of substance and of accident, beheld,<br/> +Compounded, yet one individual light<br/> +The whole. And of such bond methinks I saw<br/> +The universal form: for that whenever<br/> +I do but speak of it, my soul dilates<br/> +Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak,<br/> +One moment seems a longer lethargy,<br/> +Than five-and-twenty ages had appear’d<br/> +To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder<br/> +At Argo’s shadow darkening on his flood. +</p> + +<p> +With fixed heed, suspense and motionless,<br/> +Wond’ring I gaz’d; and admiration still<br/> +Was kindled, as I gaz’d. It may not be,<br/> +That one, who looks upon that light, can turn<br/> +To other object, willingly, his view.<br/> +For all the good, that will may covet, there<br/> +Is summ’d; and all, elsewhere defective found,<br/> +Complete. My tongue shall utter now, no more<br/> +E’en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe’s<br/> +That yet is moisten’d at his mother’s breast.<br/> +Not that the semblance of the living light<br/> +Was chang’d (that ever as at first remain’d)<br/> +But that my vision quickening, in that sole<br/> +Appearance, still new miracles descry’d,<br/> +And toil’d me with the change. In that abyss<br/> +Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem’d methought,<br/> +Three orbs of triple hue clipt in one bound:<br/> +And, from another, one reflected seem’d,<br/> +As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third<br/> +Seem’d fire, breath’d equally from both. Oh speech<br/> +How feeble and how faint art thou, to give<br/> +Conception birth! Yet this to what I saw<br/> +Is less than little. Oh eternal light!<br/> +Sole in thyself that dwellst; and of thyself<br/> +Sole understood, past, present, or to come!<br/> +Thou smiledst; on that circling, which in thee<br/> +Seem’d as reflected splendour, while I mus’d;<br/> +For I therein, methought, in its own hue<br/> +Beheld our image painted: steadfastly<br/> +I therefore por’d upon the view. As one<br/> +Who vers’d in geometric lore, would fain<br/> +Measure the circle; and, though pondering long<br/> +And deeply, that beginning, which he needs,<br/> +Finds not; e’en such was I, intent to scan<br/> +The novel wonder, and trace out the form,<br/> +How to the circle fitted, and therein<br/> +How plac’d: but the flight was not for my wing;<br/> +Had not a flash darted athwart my mind,<br/> +And in the spleen unfolded what it sought. +</p> + +<p> +Here vigour fail’d the tow’ring fantasy:<br/> +But yet the will roll’d onward, like a wheel<br/> +In even motion, by the Love impell’d,<br/> +That moves the sun in heav’n and all the stars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="notes03"></a>NOTES TO PARADISE</h2> + +<h5>CANTO 1</h5> + +<p> +Verse 12. Benign Apollo.] Chaucer has imitated this invention very closely at +the beginning of the Third Booke of Fame. +</p> + +<p> +If, divine vertue, thou<br/> +Wilt helpe me to shewe now<br/> +That in my head ymarked is, +</p> + +<p> +* * * * *<br/> +Thou shalt see me go as blive<br/> +Unto the next laurer I see,<br/> +And kisse it for it is thy tree<br/> +Now entre thou my breast anone. +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Thus for.] He appears to mean nothing more than that this part of his +poem will require a greater exertion of his powers than the former. +</p> + +<p> +v. 19. Marsyas.] Ovid, Met. 1. vi. fab. 7. Compare Boccaccio, II Filocopo, 1. +5. p. 25. v. ii. Ediz. Fir. 1723. “Egli nel mio petto entri,” +&c. - “May he enter my bosom, and let my voice sound like his own, +when he made that daring mortal deserve to come forth unsheathed from his +limbs. “ v. 29. Caesar, or bard.] So Petrarch, Son. Par. Prima. +</p> + +<p> +Arbor vittoriosa e trionfale,<br/> +Onor d’imperadori e di poeti. +</p> + +<p> +And Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. 1. st. 9,<br/> +The laurel, meed of mighty conquerours<br/> +And poets sage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. Through that.] “Where the four circles, the horizon, the zodiac, +the equator, and the equinoctial colure, join; the last threeintersecting each +other so as to form three crosses, as may be seen in the armillary +sphere.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. In happiest constellation.] Aries. Some understand the planetVenus by +the “miglior stella “ +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. To the left.] Being in the opposite hemisphere to ours, Beatrice that +she may behold the rising sun, turns herself to the left. +</p> + +<p> +v. 47. As from the first a second beam.] “Like a reflected +sunbeam,” which he compares to a pilgrim hastening homewards. +</p> + +<p> +Ne simil tanto mal raggio secondo<br/> +Dal primo usci.<br/> +Filicaja, canz. 15. st. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. As iron that comes boiling from the fire.] So Milton, P. L. b. iii. 594. +—As glowing iron with fire. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. Upon the day appear’d. +</p> + +<p> +—If the heaven had ywonne,<br/> +All new of God another sunne.<br/> +Chaucer, First Booke of Fame +</p> + +<p> +E par ch’ agginuga un altro sole al cielo.<br/> +Ariosto, O F. c. x. st. 109. +</p> + +<p> +Ed ecco un lustro lampeggiar d’ intorno<br/> +Che sole a sole aggiunse e giorno a giorno.<br/> +Manno, Adone. c. xi. st. 27. +</p> + +<p> +Quando a paro col sol ma piu lucente<br/> +L’angelo gli appari sull; oriente<br/> +Tasso, G. L. c. i. +</p> + +<p> +-Seems another morn<br/> +Ris’n on mid-noon.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. v. 311. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Euripides, Ion. 1550. [GREEK HERE] 66. as Glaucus. ] Ovid, Met. 1. +Xiii. Fab. 9 +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. If.] “Thou O divine Spirit, knowest whether 1 had not risen above +my human nature, and were not merely such as thou hadst then, formed me.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Through sluggishness.] Perch’ a risponder la materia e sorda. +</p> + +<p> +So Filicaja, canz. vi. st 9.<br/> +Perche a risponder la discordia e sorda +</p> + +<p> +“The workman hath in his heart a purpose, he carrieth in mind the whole +form which his work should have; there wanteth not him skill and desire to +bring his labour to the best effect, only the matter, which he hath to work on +is unframeable.” Hooker’s Eccl. Polity, b. 5. 9. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO II</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. In small bark.] +</p> + +<p> +Con la barchetta mia cantando in rima<br/> +Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xxviii. +</p> + +<p> +Io me n’andro con la barchetta mia,<br/> +Quanto l’acqua comporta un picciol legno<br/> +Ibid. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. This first star.] the moon +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. E’en as the truth.] Like a truth that does not need demonstration, +but is self-evident.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. Cain.] Compare Hell, Canto XX. 123. And Note +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. Number1ess lights.] The fixed stars, which differ both in bulk and +splendor. +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. Save one.] “Except that principle of rarity and denseness which +thou hast assigned.” By “formal principles, “principj +formali, are meant constituent or essential causes.” Milton, in imitation +of this passage, introduces the angel arguing with Adam respecting the causes +of the spots on the moon. +</p> + +<p> +But, as a late French translator of the Paradise well remarks, his reasoning is +physical; that of Dante partly metaphysical and partly theologic. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Within the heaven.] According to our Poet’s system, there are ten +heavens; the seven planets, the eighth spheres containing the fixed stars, the +primum mobile, and the empyrean. +</p> + +<p> +v. 143. The virtue mingled.] Virg. Aen. 1. vi 724. Principio coelum, &c. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO III</h5> + +<p> +v. 16. Delusion.] “An error the contrary to that of Narcissus, because he +mistook a shadow for a substance, I a substance for a shadow.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Piccarda.] The sister of Forese whom we have seen in the Purgatory, +Canto XXIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. The Lady.] St. Clare, the foundress of the order called after her She +was born of opulent and noble parents at Assisi, in 1193, and died in 1253. See +Biogr. Univ. t. 1. p. 598. 8vo. Paris, 1813. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. Constance.] Daughter of Ruggieri, king of Sicily, who, being taken by +force out of a monastery where she had professed, was married to the Emperor +Henry Vl. and by him was mother to Frederick 11. She was fifty years old or +more at the time, and “because it was not credited that she could have a +child at that age, she was delivered in a pavilion and it was given out, that +any lady, who pleased, was at liberty to see her. Many came, and saw her, and +the suspicion ceased.” Ricordano Malaspina in Muratori, Rer. It. Script. +t. viii. p. 939; and G. Villani, in the same words, Hist. I v. c. 16 +</p> + +<p> +The French translator above mentored speaks of her having poisoned her husband. +The death of Henry Vl. is recorded in the Chronicon Siciliae, by an anonymous +writer, (Muratori, t. x.) but not a word of his having been poisoned by +Constance, and Ricordano Malaspina even mentions her decease as happening +before that of her husband, Henry V., for so this author, with some others, +terms him. v. 122. The second.] Henry Vl. son of Frederick I was the second +emperor of the house of Saab; and his son Frederick II “the third and +last.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IV</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. Between two deer] +</p> + +<p> +Tigris ut auditis, diversa valle duorum<br/> +Extimulata fame, mugitibus armentorum<br/> +Neseit utro potius ruat, et ruere ardet utroque.<br/> +Ovid, Metam. 1. v. 166 +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. Daniel.] See Daniel, c. ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 24. Plato.] [GREEK HERE] Plato Timaeus v. ix. p. 326. Edit. Bip. “The +Creator, when he had framed the universe, distributed to the stars an equal +number of souls, appointing to each soul its several star.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 27. Of that.] Plato’s opinion. +</p> + +<p> +v. 34. The first circle.] The empyrean. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Him who made Tobias whole.] +</p> + +<p> +Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign’d<br/> +To travel with Tobias, and secur’d<br/> +His marriage with the sev’n times wedded maid,<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. v. 223. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. That to the eye of man.] “That the ways of divine justice are +often inscrutable to man, ought rather to be a motive to faith than an +inducement to heresy.” Such appears to me the most satisfactory +explanation of the passage. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Laurence.] Who suffered martyrdom in the third century. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Scaevola.] See Liv. Hist. D. 1. 1. ii. 12. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. Alcmaeon.] Ovid, Met. 1. ix. f. 10. +</p> + +<p> +—Ultusque parente parentem<br/> +Natus, erit facto pius et sceleratus eodem. +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Of will.] “What Piccarda asserts of Constance, that she retained +her affection to the monastic life, is said absolutely and without relation to +circumstances; and that which I affirm is spoken of the will conditionally and +respectively: so that our apparent difference is without any +disagreement.” v. 119. That truth.] The light of divine truth. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO V</h5> + +<p> +v. 43. Two things.] The one, the substance of the vow; the other, the compact, +or form of it. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. It was enjoin’d the Israelites.] See Lev. e. xii, and xxvii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Either key.] Purgatory, Canto IX. 108. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. That region.] As some explain it, the east, according to others the +equinoctial line. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. This sphere.] The planet Mercury, which, being nearest to the sun, is +oftenest hidden by that luminary +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VI</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. After that Constantine the eagle turn’d.] Constantine, in +transferring the seat of empire from Rome to Byzantium, carried the eagle, the +Imperial ensign, from the west to the east. Aeneas, on the contrary had moved +along with the sun’s course, when he passed from Troy to Italy. +</p> + +<p> +v. 5. A hundred years twice told and more.] The Emperor Constantine entered +Byzantium in 324, and Justinian began his reign in 527. +</p> + +<p> +v. 6. At Europe’s extreme point.] Constantinople being situated at the +extreme of Europe, and on the borders of Asia, near those mountains in the +neighbourhood of Troy, from whence the first founders of Rome had emigrated. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. To clear th’ incumber’d laws.] The code of laws was abridged +and reformed by Justinian. +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Christ’s nature merely human.] Justinian is said to have been a +follower of the heretical Opinions held by Eutyches,” who taught that in +Christ there was but one nature, viz. that of the incarnate word.” +Maclaine’s Mosheim, t. ii. Cent. v. p. ii. c. v. 13. +</p> + +<p> +v. 16. Agapete.] Agapetus, Bishop of Rome, whose Scheda Regia, addressed to the +Emperor Justinian, procured him a place among the wisest and most judicious +writers of this century.” Ibid. Cent. vi. p. ii c. ii. 8. +</p> + +<p> +v. 33. Who pretend its power.] The Ghibellines. +</p> + +<p> +v. 33. And who oppose ] The Guelphs. +</p> + +<p> +v. 34. Pallas died.] See Virgil, Aen. 1. X. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. The rival three.] The Horatii and Curiatii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 41. Down.] “From the rape of the Sabine women to the violation of +Lucretia.” v. 47. Quintius.] Quintius Cincinnatus. +</p> + +<p> +E Cincinnato dall’ inculta chioma.<br/> +Petrarca. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Arab hordes.] The Arabians seem to be put for the barbarians in general. +</p> + +<p> +v. 54. That hill.] The city of Fesulae, which was sacked by the Romans after +the defeat of Cataline. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Near the hour.] Near the time of our Saviour’s birth. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. What then it wrought.] In the following fifteen lines the Poet has +comprised the exploits of Julius Caesar. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. In its next bearer’s gripe.] With Augustus Caesar. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. The third Caesar.] “Tiberius the third of the Caesars, had it in +his power to surpass the glory of all who either preceded or came after him, by +destroying the city of .Jerusalem, as Titus afterwards did, and thus revenging +the cause of God himself on the Jews.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. Vengeance for vengeance ] This will be afterwards explained by the Poet +himself. v. 98. Charlemagne.] Dante could not be ignorant that the reign of +Justinian was long prior to that of Charlemagne; but the spirit of the former +emperor is represented, both in this instance and in what follows, as conscious +of the events that had taken place after his own time. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. The yellow lilies.] The French ensign. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Charles.] The commentators explain this to mean Charles II, king of +Naples and Sicily. Is it not more likely to allude to Charles of Valois, son of +Philip III of France, who was sent for, about this time, into Italy by Pope +Boniface, with the promise of being made emperor? See G. Villani, 1. viii. c. +42. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Romeo’s light.] The story of Romeo is involved in some +uncertainty. The French writers assert the continuance of his ministerial +office even after the decease of his soverign Raymond Berenger, count of +Provence: and they rest this assertion chiefly on the fact of a certain Romieu +de Villeneuve, who was the contemporary of that prince, having left large +possessions behind him, as appears by his will, preserved in the archives of +the bishopric of Venice. There might however have been more than one person of +the name of Romieu, or Romeo which answers to that of Palmer in our language. +Nor is it probable that the Italians, who lived so near the time, were +misinformed in an occurrence of such notoriety. According to them, after he had +long been a faithful steward to Raymond, when an account was required from him +of the revenues whichhe had carefully husbanded, and his master as lavishly +disbursed, “He demanded the little mule, the staff, and the scrip, with +which he had first entered into the count’s service, a stranger pilgrim +from the shrine of St. James in Galicia, and parted as he came; nor was it ever +known whence he was or wither he went.” G. Villani, 1. vi. c. 92. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Four daughters.] Of the four daughters of Raymond Berenger, Margaret, +the eldest, was married to Louis IX of France; Eleanor; the next, to Henry III, +of England; Sancha, the third, to Richard, Henry’s brother, and King of +the Romans; and the youngest, Beatrice, to Charles I, King of Naples and +Sicily, and brother to Louis. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Raymond Berenger.] This prince, the last of the house of Barcelona, who +was count of Provence, died in 1245. He is in the list of Provencal poets. See +Millot, Hist, Litt des Troubadours, t. ii. P. 112. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VII</h5> + +<p> +v. 3. Malahoth.] A Hebrew word, signifying “kingdoms.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 4. That substance bright.] Justinian. +</p> + +<p> +v. 17. As might have made one blest amid the flames.] So Giusto de’ +Conti, Bella Mano. “Qual salamandra.” +</p> + +<p> +Che puommi nelle fiammi far beato. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. That man who was unborn.] Adam. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. What distils.] “That which proceeds immediately from God, and +without intervention of secondary causes, in immortal.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Our resurrection certain.] “Venturi appears to mistake the +Poet’s reasoning, when he observes: “Wretched for us, if we had not +arguments more convincing, and of a higher kind, to assure us of the truth of +our resurrection.” It is here intended, I think, that the whole of +God’s dispensations to man should be considered as a proof of our +resurrection. The conclusion is that as before sin man was immortal, so being +restored to the favor of heaven by the expiation made for sin, he necessarily +recovers his claim to immortality. +</p> + +<p> +There is much in this poem to justify the encomium which the learned Salvini +has passed on it, when, in an epistle to Redi, imitating what Horace had said +of Homer, that the duties of life might be better learnt from the Grecian bard +than from the teachers of the porch or the academy, he says— +</p> + +<p> +And dost thou ask, what themes my mind engage?<br/> +The lonely hours I give to Dante’s page;<br/> +And meet more sacred learning in his lines<br/> +Than I had gain’d from all the school divines. +</p> + +<p> +Se volete saper la vita mia,<br/> +Studiando io sto lungi da tutti gli nomini<br/> +Ed ho irnparato piu teologia<br/> +In questi giorni, che ho riletto Dante,<br/> +Che nelle scuole fattto io non avria. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO VIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 4. Epicycle,] “In sul dosso di questo cerchio,” &c. Convito +di Dante, Opere, t. i. p. 48, ed. Ven. 1793. “Upon the back of this +circle, in the heaven of Venus, whereof we are now treating, is a little +sphere, which has in that heaven a revolution of its own: whose circle the +astronomers term epicycle.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 11. To sit in Dido’s bosom.] Virgil. Aen. 1. i. 718, +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. ‘O ye whose intellectual ministry.] Voi ch’ intendendo il +terzo ciel movete. The first line in our Poet” first canzone. See his +Convito, Ibid. p. 40. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. had the time been more.] The spirit now speaking is Charles Martel +crowned king of Hungary, and son of Charles 11 king of Naples and Sicily, to +which dominions dying in his father’s lifetime, he did not succeed. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. Thou lov’dst me well.] Charles Martel might have been known to our +poet at Florence whither he came to meet his father in 1295, the year of his +death. The retinue and the habiliments of the young monarch are minutely +described by G. Villani, who adds, that “he remained more than twenty +days in Florence, waiting for his father King Charles and his brothers during +which time great honour was done him by the, Florentines and he showed no less +love towards them, and he was much in favour with all.” 1. viii. c. 13. +His brother Robert, king of Naples, was the friend of Petrarch. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. The left bank.] Provence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. That horn Of fair Ausonia.] The kingdom of Naples. +</p> + +<p> +v. 68. The land.] Hungary. +</p> + +<p> +v. 73. The beautiful Trinaeria.] Sicily, so called from its three promontories, +of which Pachynus and Pelorus, here mentioned, are two. +</p> + +<p> +v. 14 Typhaeus.] The giant whom Jupiter is fabled to have overwhelmed under the +mountain Aetna from whence he vomits forth smoke and flame. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. Sprang through me from Charles and Rodolph.] “Sicily would be +still ruled by a race of monarchs, descended through me from Charles I and +Rodolph I the former my grandfather king of Naples and Sicily; the latter +emperor of Germany, my father-in-law; “both celebrated in the Purgatory +Canto, Vll. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. Had not ill lording.] “If the ill conduct of our governors in +Sicily had not excited the resentment and hatred of the people and stimulated +them to that dreadful massacre at the Sicilian vespers;” in consequence +of which the kingdom fell into the hands of Peter III of Arragon, in 1282 +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. My brother’s foresight.] He seems to tax his brother Robert with +employing necessitous and greedy Catalonians to administer the affairs of his +kingdom. +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. How bitter can spring up.] “How a covetous son can spring from a +liberal father.” Yet that father has himself been accused of avarice in +the Purgatory Canto XX. v. 78; though his general character was that of a +bounteous prince. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Consult your teacher.] Aristole. [GREEK HERE] De Rep. 1. iii. c. 4. +“Since a state is made up of members differing from one another, (for +even as an animal, in the first instance, consists of soul and body, and the +soul, of reason and desire; and a family, of man and woman, and property of +master and slave; in like manner a state consists both of all these and besides +these of other dissimilar kinds,) it necessarily follows that the excellence of +all the members of the state cannot be one and the same.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Esau.] Genesis c. xxv. 22. +</p> + +<p> +v. 137. Quirinus.] Romulus, born of so obscure a father, that his parentage was +attributed to Mars. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO IX</h5> + +<p> +v. 2. O fair Clemenza.] Daughter of Charles Martel, and second wife of Louis X. +of France. +</p> + +<p> +v. 2. The treachery.] He alludes to the occupation of the kingdom of Sicily by +Robert, in exclusion of his brother s son Carobert, or Charles. Robert, the +rightful heir. See G. Villani, 1. viii. c. 112. +</p> + +<p> +v. 7. That saintly light.] Charles Martel. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. In that part.] Between Rialto and the Venetian territory, and the +sources of the rivers Brenta and Piava is situated a castle called Romano, the +birth-place of the famous tyrant Ezzolino or Azzolino, the brother of Cunizza, +who is now speaking. The tyrant we have seen in “the river of +blood.” Hell, Canto XII. v. 110. +</p> + +<p> +v. 32. Cunizza.] The adventures of Cunizza, overcome by the influence of her +star, are related by the chronicler Rolandino of Padua, 1. i. c. 3, in Muratori +Rer. It. Script. t. viii. p. 173. +</p> + +<p> +She eloped from her first husband, Richard of St. Boniface, in the company of +Sordello, (see Purgatory, Canto VI. and VII. ) with whom she is supposed to +have cohabited before her marriage: then lived with a soldier of Trevigi, whose +wife was living at the same time in the same city, and on his being murdered by +her brother the tyrant, was by her brother married to a nobleman of Braganzo, +lastly when he also had fallen by the same hand she, after her brother’s +death, was again wedded in Verona. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. This.] Folco of Genoa, a celebrated Provencal poet, commonly termed +Folques of Marseilles, of which place he was perhaps bishop. Many errors of +Nostradamus, regarding him, which have been followed by Crescimbeni, Quadrio, +and Millot, are detected by the diligence of Tiraboschi. Mr. Matthias’s +ed. v. 1. P. 18. All that appears certain, is what we are told in this Canto, +that he was of Genoa, and by Petrarch in the Triumph of Love, c. iv. that he +was better known by the appellation he derived from Marseilles, and at last +resumed the religious habit. One of his verses is cited by Dante, De Vulg. +Eloq. 1. ii. c. 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. Five times.] The five hundred years are elapsed: and unless the +Provencal MSS. should be brought to light the poetical reputation of Folco must +rest on the mention made of him by the more fortunate Italians. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43 The crowd.] The people who inhabited the tract of country bounded by the +river Tagliamento to the east, and Adice to the west. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. The hour is near.] Cunizza foretells the defeat of Giacopo da Carrara, +Lord of Padua by Can Grande, at Vicenza, on the 18th September 1314. See G. +Villani, 1. ix. c. 62. v. 48. One.] She predicts also the fate of Ricciardo da +Camino, who is said to have been murdered at Trevigi, where the rivers (Sile +and Cagnano meet) while he was engaged in playing at chess. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. The web.] The net or snare into, which he is destined to fall. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. Feltro.] The Bishop of Felto having received a number of fugitives from +Ferrara, who were in opposition to the Pope, under a promise of protection, +afterwards gave them up, so that they were reconducted to that city, and the +greater part of them there put to death. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Malta’s.] A tower, either in the citadel of Padua, which under the +tyranny of Ezzolino, had been “with many a foul and midnight murder +fed,” or (as some say) near a river of the same name, that falls into the +lake of Bolsena, in which the Pope was accustomed to imprison such as had been +guilty of an irremissible sin. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56 This priest.] The bishop, who, to show himself a zealous partisan of the +Pope, had committed the above-mentioned act of treachery. +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. We descry.] “We behold the things that we predict, in the mirrors +of eternal truth.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 64. That other joyance.] Folco. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Six shadowing wings.] “Above it stood the seraphims: each one had +six wings.” Isaiah, c. vi. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. The valley of waters.] The Mediterranean sea. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. That.] The great ocean. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Discordant shores.] Europe and Africa. +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. Meridian.] Extending to the east, the Mediterranean at last reaches the +coast of Palestine, which is on its horizon when it enters the straits of +Gibraltar. “Wherever a man is,” says Vellutello, “there he +has, above his head, his own particular meridian circle.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. —’Twixt Ebro’s stream<br/> +And Macra’s.]<br/> +Eora, a river to the west, and Macra, to the east of Genoa, where<br/> +Folco was born. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. Begga.] A place in Africa, nearly opposite to Genoa. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. Whose haven.] Alluding to the terrible slaughter of the Genoese made by +the Saracens in 936, for which event Vellutello refers to the history of +Augustino Giustiniani. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. This heav’n.] The planet Venus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. Belus’ daughter.] Dido. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. She of Rhodope.] Phyllis. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. Jove’s son.] Hercules. +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. Rahab.] Heb. c. xi. 31. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. With either palm.] “By the crucifixion of Christ” +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. The cursed flower.] The coin of Florence, called the florin. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. The decretals.] The canon law. +</p> + +<p> +v. 134. The Vatican.] He alludes either to the death of Pope Boniface VIII. or, +as Venturi supposes, to the coming of the Emperor Henry VII. into Italy, or +else, according to the yet more probable conjecture of Lombardi, to the +transfer of the holy see from Rome to Avignon, which took place in the +pontificate of Clement V. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO X</h5> + +<p> +v. 7. The point.] “To that part of heaven,” as Venturi explains it, +“in which the equinoctial circle and the Zodiac intersect each other, +where the common motion of the heavens from east to west may be said to strike +with greatest force against the motion proper to the planets; and this +repercussion, as it were, is here the strongest, because the velocity of each +is increased to the utmost by their respective distance from the poles. Such at +least is the system of Dante.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 11. Oblique.] The zodiac. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. The part.] The above-mentioned intersection of the equinoctial circle +and the zodiac. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Minister.] The sun. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. Where.] In which the sun rises every day earlier after the vernal +equinox. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. Fourth family.] The inhabitants of the sun, the fourth planet. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Of his spirit and of his offspring.] The procession of the third, and +the generation of the second person in the Trinity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. Such was the song.] “The song of these spirits was ineffable. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. No less constrained.] “The rivers might as easily cease to flow +towards the sea, as we could deny thee thy request.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. I then.] “I was of the Dominican order.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. Albert of Cologne.] Albertus Magnus was born at Laugingen, in Thuringia, +in 1193, and studied at Paris and at Padua, at the latter of which places he +entered into the Dominican order. He then taught theology in various parts of +Germany, and particularly at Cologne. Thomas Aquinas was his favourite pupil. +In 1260, he reluctantly accepted the bishopric of Ratisbon, and in two years +after resigned it, and returned to his cell in Cologne, where the remainder of +his life was passed in superintending the school, and in composing his +voluminous works on divinity and natural science. He died in 1280. The absurd +imputation of his having dealt in the magical art is well known; and his +biographers take some pains to clear him of it. Scriptores Ordinis +Praedicatorum, by Quetif and Echard, Lut. Par. 1719. fol. t. 1. p. 162. +</p> + +<p> +v. 96. Of Aquinum, Thomas.] Thomas Aquinas, of whom Bucer is reported to have +said, “Take but Thomas away, and I will overturn the church of +Rome,” and whom Hooker terms “the greatest among the school +divines,” (Eccl. Pol. b. 3. 9), was born of noble parents, who anxiously, +but vainly, endeavoured to divert him from a life of celibacy and study; and +died in 1274, at the age of fourty-seven. Echard and Quetif, ibid. p. 271. See +also Purgatory Canto XX. v. 67. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Gratian.] “Gratian, a Benedictine monk belonging to the convent +of St. Felix and Nabor, at Bologna, and by birth a Tuscan, composed, about the +year 1130, for the use of the schools, an abridgment or epitome of canon law, +drawn from the letters of the pontiffs, the decrees of councils, and the +writings of the ancient doctors.” Maclaine’s Mosheim, v. iii. cent. +12. part 2. c. i. 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. To either forum.] “By reconciling,” as Venturi explains it +“the civil with the canon law.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Peter.] “Pietro Lombardo was of obscure origin, nor is the place +of his birth in Lombardy ascertained. With a recommendation from the bishop of +Lucca to St. Bernard, he went into France to continue his studies, and for that +purpose remained some time at Rheims, whence he afterwards proceeded to Paris. +Here his reputation was so great that Philip, brother of Louis VII., being +chosen bishop of Paris, resigned that dignity to Pietro, whose pupil he had +been. He held his bishopric only one year, and died in 1160. His Liber +Sententiarum is highly esteemed. It contains a system of scholastic theology, +so much more complete than any which had been yet seen, that it may be deemed +an original work.” Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital. t. iii. 1. 4. c. +2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 104. Who with the widow gave.] This alludes to the beginning of the Liber +Sententiarum, where Peter says: “Cupiens aliquid de penuria ac tenuitate +nostra cum paupercula in gazophylacium domini mittere,” v. 105. The fifth +light.] Solomon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. That taper’s radiance.] St. Dionysius the Areopagite. “The +famous Grecian fanatic, who gave himself out for Dionysius the Areopagite, +disciple of St. Paul, and who, under the protection of this venerable name, +gave laws and instructions to those that were desirous of raising their souls +above all human things in order to unite them to their great source by sublime +contemplation, lived most probably in this century (the fourth), though some +place him before, others after, the present period.” Maclaine’s +Mosheim, v. i. cent. iv. p. 2. c. 3. 12. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. That pleader.] 1n the fifth century, Paulus Orosius, “acquired a +considerable degree of reputation by the History he wrote to refute the cavils +of the Pagans against Christianity, and by his books against the Pelagians and +Priscillianists.” Ibid. v. ii. cent. v. p. 2. c. 2. 11. A similar train +of argument was pursued by Augustine, in his book De Civitate Dei. Orosius is +classed by Dante, in his treatise De Vulg. Eloq. I ii c. 6. as one of his +favourite authors, among those “qui usi sunt altissimas +prosas,”—” who have written prose with the greatest loftiness +of style.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. The eighth.] Boetius, whose book De Consolatione Philosophiae excited +so much attention during the middle ages, was born, as Tiraboschi conjectures, +about 470. “In 524 he was cruelly put to death by command of Theodoric, +either on real or pretended suspicion of his being engaged in a +conspiracy.” Della Lett. Ital. t. iii. 1. i. c. 4. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Cieldauro.] Boetius was buried at Pavia, in the monastery of St. Pietro +in Ciel d’oro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. Isidore.] He was Archbishop of Seville during forty years, and died in +635. See Mariana, Hist. 1. vi. c. 7. Mosheim, whose critical opinions in +general must be taken with some allowance, observes that “his grammatical +theological, and historical productions, discover more learning and pedantry, +than judgment and taste.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Bede.] Bede, whose virtues obtained him the appellation of the +Venerable, was born in 672 at Wearmouth and Jarrow, in the bishopric of Durham, +and died in 735. Invited to Rome by Pope Sergius I., he preferred passing +almost the whole of his life in the seclusion of a monastery. A catalogue of +his numerous writings may be seen in Kippis’s Biographia Britannica, v. +ii. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. Richard.] Richard of St. Victor, a native either of Scotland or +Ireland, was canon and prior of the monastery of that name at Paris and died in +1173. “He was at the head of the Mystics in this century and his +treatise, entitled the Mystical Ark, which contains as it were the marrow of +this kind of theology, was received with the greatest avidity.” +Maclaine’s Mosheim, v. iii. cent. xii. p. 2. c. 2. 23. +</p> + +<p> +v. 132. Sigebert.] “A monk of the abbey of Gemblours who was in high +repute at the end of the eleventh, and beginning of the twelfth century.” +Dict. de Moreri. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. The straw-litter’d street.] The name of a street in Paris: the +“Rue du Fouarre.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. The spouse of God.] The church. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XI</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. O fond anxiety of mortal men.] Lucretius, 1. ii. 14 +</p> + +<p> +O miseras hominum mentes ! O pectora caeca<br/> +Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantisque periclis<br/> +Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est! +</p> + +<p> +v. 4. Aphorisms,] The study of medicine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 17. The lustre.] The spirit of Thomas Aquinas +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. She.] The church. +</p> + +<p> +v. 34. One.] Saint Francis. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. The other.] Saint Dominic. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. Tupino.] A rivulet near Assisi, or Ascesi where Francis was born in +1182. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. The wave.] Chiascio, a stream that rises in a mountain near Agobbio, +chosen by St. Ubaldo for the place of his retirement. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. Heat and cold.] Cold from the snow, and heat from the reflection of the +sun. +</p> + +<p> +v. 45. Yoke.] Vellutello understands this of the vicinity of the mountain to +Nocera and Gualdo; and Venturi (as I have taken it) of the heavy impositions +laid on those places by the Perugians. For GIOGO, like the Latin JUGUM, will +admit of either sense. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. The east.] +</p> + +<p> +This is the east, and Juliet is the sun.<br/> +Shakespeare. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. Gainst his father’s will.] In opposition to the wishes of his +natural father +</p> + +<p> +v. 58. In his father’s sight.] The spiritual father, or bishop, in whose +presence he made a profession of poverty. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. Her first husband.] Christ. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. Amyclas.] Lucan makes Caesar exclaim, on witnessing the secure poverty +of the fisherman Amyclas: +</p> + +<p> +—O vite tuta facultas<br/> +Pauperis, angustique lares! O munera nondum<br/> +Intellecta deum! quibus hoc contingere templis,<br/> +Aut potuit muris, nullo trepidare tumultu,<br/> +Caesarea pulsante manu?<br/> +Lucan Phars. 1. v. 531. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. Bernard.] One of the first followers of the saint. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Egidius.] The third of his disciples, who died in 1262. His work, +entitled Verba Aurea, was published in 1534, at Antwerp See Lucas Waddingus, +Annales Ordinis Minoris, p. 5. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. Sylvester.] Another of his earliest associates. +</p> + +<p> +v. 83. Pietro Bernardone.] A man in an humble station of life at Assisi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. Innocent.] Pope Innocent III. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. Honorius.] His successor Honorius III who granted certain privileges to +the Franciscans. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. On the hard rock.] The mountain Alverna in the Apennine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. The last signet.] Alluding to the stigmata, or marks resembling the +wounds of Christ, said to have been found on the saint’s body. +</p> + +<p> +v. 106. His dearest lady.] Poverty. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Our Patriarch ] Saint Dominic. +</p> + +<p> +v. 316. His flock ] The Dominicans. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. The planet from whence they split.] “The rule of their order, +which the Dominicans neglect to observe.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The blessed flame.] Thomas Aquinas +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. That voice.] The nymph Echo, transformed into the repercussion of the +voice. +</p> + +<p> +v. 25. One.] Saint Buonaventura, general of the Franciscan order, in which he +effected some reformation, and one of the most profound divines of his age. +“He refused the archbishopric of York, which was offered him by Clement +IV, but afterwards was prevailed on to accept the bishopric of Albano and a +cardinal’s hat. He was born at Bagnoregio or Bagnorea, in Tuscany, A.D. +1221, and died in 1274.” Dict. Histor. par Chaudon et Delandine. Ed. +Lyon. 1804. +</p> + +<p> +v. 28. The love.] By an act of mutual courtesy, Buonaventura, a Franciscan, is +made to proclaim the praises of St. Dominic, as Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican, +has celebrated those of St. Francis. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. In that clime.] Spain. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Callaroga.] Between Osma and Aranda, in Old Castile, designated by the +royal coat of arms. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. The loving minion of the Christian faith.] Dominic was born April 5, +1170, and died August 6, 1221. His birthplace, Callaroga; his father and +mother’s names, Felix and Joanna, his mother’s dream; his name of +Dominic, given him in consequence of a vision by a noble matron, who stood +sponsor to him, are all told in an anonymous life of the saint, said to be +written in the thirteenth century, and published by Quetif and Echard, +Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum. Par. 1719. fol. t 1. p. 25. These writers +deny his having been an inquisitor, and indeed the establishment of the +inquisition itself before the fourth Lateran council. Ibid. p. 88. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. In the mother’s womb.] His mother, when pregnant with him, is said +to have dreamt that she should bring forth a white and black dog, with a +lighted torch in its mouth. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. The dame.] His godmother’s dream was, that he had one star in his +forehead, and another in the nape of his neck, from which he communicated light +to the east and the west. +</p> + +<p> +v. 73. Felix.] Felix Gusman. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. As men interpret it.] Grace or gift of the Lord. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. Ostiense.] A cardinal, who explained the decretals. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. Taddeo.] A physician, of Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. The see.] “The apostolic see, which no longer continues its wonted +liberality towards the indigent and deserving; not indeed through its own +fault, as its doctrines are still the same, but through the fault of the +pontiff, who is seated in it.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 85. No dispensation.] Dominic did not ask license to compound for the use of +unjust acquisitions, by dedicating a part of them to pious purposes. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. In favour of that seed.] “For that seed of the divine word, from +which have sprung up these four-and-twenty plants, that now environ +thee.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. But the track.] “But the rule of St. Francis is already deserted +and the lees of the wine are turned into mouldiness.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Tares.] He adverts to the parable of the taxes and the wheat. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. I question not.] “Some indeed might be found, who still observe +the rule of the order, but such would come neither from Casale nor +Acquasparta:” of the former of which places was Uberto, one master +general, by whom the discipline had been relaxed; and of the latter, Matteo, +another, who had enforced it with unnecessary rigour. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. -Illuminato here, And Agostino.] Two among the earliest followers of +St. Francis. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Hugues of St. Victor.] A Saxon of the monastery of Saint Victor at +Paris, who fed ill 1142 at the age of forty-four. “A man distinguished by +the fecundity of his genius, who treated in his writings of all the branches of +sacred and profane erudition that were known in his time, and who composed +several dissertations that are not destitute of merit.” Maclaine’s +Mosheim, Eccl. Hist. v. iii . cent. xii. p. 2. 2. 23. I have looked into his +writings, and found some reason for this high eulogium. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Piatro Mangiadore.] “Petrus Comestor, or the Eater, born at +Troyes, was canon and dean of that church, and afterwards chancellor of the +church of Paris. He relinquished these benefices to become a regular canon of +St. Victor at Paris, where he died in 1198. Chaudon et Delandine Dict. Hist. +Ed. Lyon. 1804. The work by which he is best known, is his Historia Scolastica, +which I shall have occasion to cite in the Notes to Canto XXVI. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. He of Spain.] “To Pope Adrian V succeeded John XXI a native of +Lisbon a man of great genius and extraordinary acquirements, especially in +logic and in medicine, as his books, written in the name of Peter of Spain (by +which he was known before he became Pope), may testify. His life was not much +longer than that of his predecessors, for he was killed at Viterbo, by the +falling in of the roof of his chamber, after he had been pontiff only eight +months and as many days. A.D. 1277. Mariana, Hist. de Esp. l. xiv. c. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. Chrysostom.] The eloquent patriarch of Constantinople. +</p> + +<p> +v. 128. Anselmo.] “Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, was born at Aosta, +about 1034, and studied under Lanfrane at the monastery of Bec, in Normandy, +where he afterwards devoted himself to a religious life, in his twenty-seventh +year. In three years he was made prior, and then abbot of that monastery! from +whence he was taken, in 1093, to succeed to the archbishopric, vacant by the +death of Lanfrane. He enjoyed this dignity till his death, in 1109, though it +was disturbed by many dissentions with William II and Henry I respecting the +immunities and investitures. There is much depth and precisian in his +theological works.” Tiraboschi, Stor. della Lett. Ital. t. iii. +</p> + +<p> +1. iv. c. 2. Ibid. c. v. “It is an observation made by many modern +writers, that the demonstration of the existence of God, taken from the idea of +a Supreme Being, of which Des Cartes is thought to be the author, was so many +ages back discovered and brought to light by Anselm. Leibnitz himself makes the +remark, vol. v. Oper. p. 570. Edit. Genev. 1768.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. Donatus.] Aelius Donatus, the grammarian, in the fourth century, one of +the preceptors of St. Jerome. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Raban.] “Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mentz, is deservedly +placed at the head of the Latin writers of this age.” Mosheim, v. ii. +cent. ix. p. 2 c. 2. 14. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Joachim.] Abbot of Flora in Calabria; “whom the multitude revered +as a person divinely inspired and equal to the most illustrious prophets of +ancient times.” Ibid. v. iii. cent. xiii. p. 2. c. 2. 33. +</p> + +<p> +v. 134. A peer.] St. Dominic. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Let him.] “Whoever would conceive the sight that now presented +itself to me, must imagine to himself fifteen of the brightest stars in heaven, +together with seven stars of Arcturus Major and two of Arcturus Minor, ranged +in two circles, one within the other, each resembling the crown of Ariadne, and +moving round m opposite directions.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 21. The Chiava.] See Hell, Canto XXIX. 45. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. That luminary.] Thomas Aquinas. +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. One ear.] “Having solved one of thy questions, I proceed to answer +the other. Thou thinkest, then, that Adam and Christ were both endued with all +the perfection of which the human nature is capable and therefore wonderest at +what has been said concerning Solomon” +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. That.] “Things corruptible and incorruptible, are only emanations +from the archetypal idea residing in the Divine mind.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 52. His brightness.] The Word: the Son of God. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. His love triune with them.] The Holy Ghost. +</p> + +<p> +v. 55. New existences.] Angels and human souls. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. The lowest powers.] Irrational life and brute matter. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. Their wax and that which moulds it.] Matter, and the virtue or energy +that acts on it. +</p> + +<p> +v. 68. The heav’n.] The influence of the planetary bodies. +</p> + +<p> +v. 77. The clay.] Adam. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. Who ask’d.] “He did not desire to know the number of the +stars, or to pry into the subtleties of metaphysical and mathematical science: +but asked for that wisdom which might fit him for his kingly office.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. —Parmenides Melissus Bryso.] For the singular opinions +entertained by the two former of these heathen philosophers, see Diogenes +Laertius, 1. ix. and Aristot. de Caelo, 1. iii. c. 1 and Phys. l. i. c. 2. The +last is also twice adduced by 2. Aristotle (Anal Post. 1. i. c. 9. and Rhet. 1. +iii. c. 2.) as 3. affording instances of false reasoning. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. Sabellius, Arius.] Well-known heretics. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Scymitars.] A passage in the travels of Bertradon de la Brocquiere, +translated by Mr. Johnes, will explain this allusion, which has given some +trouble to the commentators. That traveler, who wrote before Dante, informs us, +p. 138, that the wandering Arabs used their scymitars as mirrors. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. Let not.] “Let not short-sighted mortals presume to decide on the +future doom of any man, from a consideration of his present character and +actions.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 5. Such was the image.] The voice of Thomas Aquinas proceeding, from the +circle to the centre and that of Beatrice from the centre to the circle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Him.] Literally translated by Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide. +</p> + +<p> +Thou one two, and three eterne on live<br/> +That raignest aie in three, two and one<br/> +Uncircumscript, and all maist circonscrive, +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. The goodliest light.] Solomon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. To more lofty bliss.] To the planet Mars. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. The venerable sign.] The cross. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. He.] “He who considers that the eyes of Beatrice became more +radiant the higher we ascended, must not wonder that I do not except even them +as I had not yet beheld them since our entrance into this planet.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XV</h5> + +<p> +v. 24. Our greater Muse.] Virgil Aen. 1. vi. 684. v. 84. I am thy root.] +Cacciaguida, father to Alighieri, of whom our Poet was the great-grandson. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. The mountain.] Purgatory. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. Florence.] See G. Villani, l. iii. c. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. Which calls her still.] The public clock being still within the circuit +of the ancient walls. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. When.] When the women were not married at too early an age, and did not +expect too large a portion. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Void.] Through the civil wars. +</p> + +<p> +v. 102 Sardanapalus.] The luxurious monarch of Assyria Juvenal is here +imitated, who uses his name for an instance of effeminacy. Sat. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Montemalo ] Either an elevated spot between Rome and Viterbo, or Monte +Mario, the site of the villa Mellini, commanding a view of Rome. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Our suburban turret.] Uccellatojo, near Florence, from whence that city +was discovered. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. Bellincion Berti.] Hell, Canto XVI. 38. nd Notes. There is a curious +description of the simple manner in which the earlier Florentines dressed +themselves in G. Villani, 1 vi. c. 71. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Of Nerli and of Vecchio.] Two of the most opulent families in Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Each.] “None fearful either of dying in banishment, or of being +deserted by her husband on a scheme of battle in France. +</p> + +<p> +v. 120. A Salterello and Cianghella.] The latter a shameless woman of the +family of Tosa, married to Lito degli Alidosi of Imola: the former Lapo +Salterello, a lawyer, with whom Dante was at variance. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. Mary.] The Virgin was involved in the pains of child-birth Purgatory, +Canto XX. 21. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130 Valdipado.] Cacciaguida’s wife, whose family name was Aldighieri; +came from Ferrara, called Val di Pado, from its being watered by the Po. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Conrad.] The Emperor Conrad III who died in 1152. See G. Villani, 1. +iv. 34. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Whose people.] The Mahometans, who were left in possession of the Holy +Land, through the supineness of the Pope. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 10. With greeting.] The Poet, who had addressed the spirit, not knowing him +to be his ancestor, with a plain “Thou,” now uses more ceremony, +and calls him “You,” according to a custom introduced among the +Romans in the latter times of the empire. +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Guinever.] Beatrice’s smile encouraged him to proceed just as the +cough of Ginevra’s female servant gave her mistress assurance to admit +the freedoms of Lancelot. See Hell, Canto V. 124. +</p> + +<p> +v. 23. The fold.] Florence, of which John the Baptist was the patron saint. +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. From the day.] From the Incarnation to the birth of Cacciaguida, the +planet Mars had returned five hundred and fifty-three times to the +constellation of Leo, with which it is supposed to have a congenial influence. +His birth may, therefore, be placed about 1106. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. The last.] The city was divided into four compartments. The Elisei, the +ancestors of Dante, resided near the entrance of that named from the Porta S. +Piero, which was the last reached by the competitor in the annual race at +Florence. See G. Villani, 1. iv. c. 10. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. From Mars.] “Both in the times of heathenish and of +Christianity.” Hell, Canto XIII. 144. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Campi and Certaldo and Fighine.] Country places near Florence. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. That these people.] That the inhabitants of the above- mentioned places +had not been mixed with the citizens: nor the limits of Florence extended +beyond Galluzzo and Trespiano.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 54. Aguglione’s hind and Signa’s.] Baldo of Aguglione, and +Bonifazio of Signa. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. Had not the people.] If Rome had continued in her allegiance to the +emperor, and the Guelph and Ghibelline factions had thus been prevented, +Florence would not have been polluted by a race of upstarts, nor lost the most +respectable of her ancient families. +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. Simifonte.] A castle dismantled by the Florentines. G. Villani, 1. v. c. +30. The individual here alluded to is no longer known. +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. The blind bull.] So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide. b. 2. +</p> + +<p> +For swifter course cometh thing that is of wight<br/> +When it descendeth than done things light. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Aristotle, Ethic. Nic. l. vi. c. 13. [GREEK HERE] +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. Luni, Urbisaglia.] Cities formerly of importance, but then fallen to +decay. +</p> + +<p> +v. 74. Chiusi and Sinigaglia.] The same. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. As the moon.] “The fortune of us, that are the moon’s men +doth ebb and flow like the sea.” Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV. a. i. s. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. The Ughi.] Whoever is curious to know the habitations of these and the +other ancient Florentines, may consult G. Villani, l. iv. +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. At the poop.] Many editions read porta, “gate.” -The same +metaphor is found in Aeschylus, Supp. 356, and is there also scarce understood +by the critics. [GREEK HERE] Respect these wreaths, that crown your +city’s poop. +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. The gilded hilt and pommel.] The symbols of knighthood +</p> + +<p> +v. 100. The column cloth’d with verrey.] The arms of the Pigli. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. With them.] Either the Chiaramontesi, or the Tosinghi one of which had +committed a fraud in measuring out the wheat from the public granary. See +Purgatory, Canto XII. 99 +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. The bullets of bright gold.] The arms of the Abbati, as it is +conjectured. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. The sires of those.] “Of the Visdomini, the Tosinghi and the +Cortigiani, who, being sprung from the founders of the bishopric of Florence +are the curators of its revenues, which they do not spare, whenever it becomes +vacant.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 113. Th’ o’erweening brood.] The Adimari. This family was so +little esteemed, that Ubertino Donato, who had married a daughter of Bellincion +Berti, himself indeed derived from the same stock (see Note to Hell Canto XVI. +38.) was offended with his father-in-law, for giving another of his daughters +in marriage to one of them. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. The gateway.] Landino refers this to the smallness of the city: +Vellutello, with less probability, to the simplicity of the people in naming +one of the gates after a private family. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. The great baron.] The Marchese Ugo, who resided at Florence as +lieutenant of the Emperor Otho III, gave many of the chief families license to +bear his arms. See G. Villani, 1. iv. c. 2., where the vision is related, in +consequence of which he sold all his possessions in Germany, and founded seven +abbeys, in one whereof his memory was celebrated at Florence on St. +Thomas’s day. v. 130. One.] Giano della Bella, belonging to one of the +families thus distinguished, who no longer retained his place among the +nobility, and had yet added to his arms a bordure or. See Macchiavelli, 1st. +Fior. 1. ii. p. 86. Ediz. Giolito. +</p> + +<p> +v. 132. -Gualterotti dwelt And Importuni.] Two families in the compartment of +the city called Borgo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. The house.] Of Amidei. See Notes to Canto XXVIII. of Hell. v. 102. +</p> + +<p> +v. 142. To Ema.] “It had been well for the city, if thy ancestor had been +drowned in the Ema, when he crossed that stream on his way from Montebuono to +Florence.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 144. On that maim’d stone.] See Hell, Canto XIII. 144. Near the +remains of the statue of Mars. Buondelmonti was slain, as if he had been a +victim to the god; and Florence had not since known the blessing of peace. +</p> + +<p> +v. 150. The lily.] “The arms of Florence had never hung reversed on the +spear of her enemies, in token of her defeat; nor been changed from argent to +gules;” as they afterwards were, when the Guelfi gained the predominance. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. The youth.] Phaeton, who came to his mother Clymene, to inquire of her if +he were indeed the son of Apollo. See Ovid, Met. 1. i. ad finem. +</p> + +<p> +v. 6. That saintly lamp.] Cacciaguida. +</p> + +<p> +v. 12. To own thy thirst.] “That thou mayst obtain from others a solution +of any doubt that may occur to thee.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 15. Thou seest as clear.] “Thou beholdest future events, with the same +clearness of evidence, that we discern the simplest mathematical +demonstrations.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 19. The point.] The divine nature. +</p> + +<p> +v. 27. The arrow.] Nam praevisa minus laedere tela solent. Ovid. +</p> + +<p> +Che piaga antiveduta assai men duole.<br/> +Petrarca, Trionfo del Tempo +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. Contingency.] “The evidence with which we see the future portrayed +in the source of all truth, no more necessitates that future than does the +image, reflected in the sight by a ship sailing down a stream, necessitate the +motion of the vessel.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. From thence.] “From the eternal sight; the view of the Deity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 49. There.] At Rome, where the expulsion of Dante’s party from +Florence was then plotting, in 1300. +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. Theirs.] “They shall be ashamed of the part they have taken +aga’nst thee.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 69. The great Lombard.] Either Alberto della Scala, or Bartolommeo his +eldest son. Their coat of arms was a ladder and an eagle. +</p> + +<p> +v. 75. That mortal.] Can Grande della Scala, born under the influence of Mars, +but at this time only nine years old +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. The Gascon.] Pope Clement V. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. Great Harry.] The Emperor Henry VII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. The cry thou raisest.] “Thou shalt stigmatize the faults of those +who are most eminent and powerful.” +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XVIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 3. Temp’ring the sweet with bitter.] Chewing the end of sweet and +bitter fancy. Shakespeare, As you Like it, a. 3. s. 3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. On this fifth lodgment of the tree.] Mars, the fifth ot the @ +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. The great Maccabee.] Judas Maccabeus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Charlemagne.] L. Pulci commends Dante for placing<br/> +Charlemagne and Orlando here:<br/> +Io mi confido ancor molto qui a Dante<br/> +Che non sanza cagion nel ciel su misse<br/> +Carlo ed Orlando in quelle croci sante,<br/> +Che come diligente intese e scrisse.<br/> +Morg. Magg. c. 28. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. William and Renard.] Probably not, as the commentators have imagined, +William II of Orange, and his kinsman Raimbaud, two of the crusaders under +Godfrey of Bouillon, (Maimbourg, Hist. des Croisades, ed. Par. 1682. 12mo. t. +i. p. 96.) but rather the two more celebrated heroes in the age of Charlemagne. +The former, William l. of Orange, supposed to have been the founder of the +present illustrious family of that name, died about 808, according to Joseph de +la Piser, Tableau de l’Hist. des Princes et Principante d’Orange. +Our countryman, Ordericus Vitalis, professes to give his true life, which had +been misrepresented in the songs of the itinerant bards.” Vulgo canitur a +joculatoribus de illo, cantilena; sed jure praeferenda est relatio +authentica.” Eccl. Hist. in Duchesne, Hist. Normann Script. p. 508. The +latter is better known by having been celebrated by Ariosto, under the name of +Rinaldo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. Duke Godfey.] Godfrey of Bouillon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 46. Robert Guiscard.] See Hell, Canto XXVIII. v. 12. +</p> + +<p> +v. 81. The characters.] Diligite justitiam qui judicatis terrarm. “Love +righteousness, ye that be judges of the earth “ Wisdom of Solomon, c. i. +1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. That once more.] “That he may again drive out those who buy and +sell in the temple.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Taking the bread away.] “Excommunication, or the interdiction of +the Eucharist, is now employed as a weapon of warfare.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. That writest but to cancel.] “And thou, Pope Boniface, who +writest thy ecclesiastical censures for no other purpose than to be paid for +revoking them.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. To him.] The coin of Florence was stamped with the impression of John +the Baptist. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XIX</h5> + +<p> +v. 38. Who turn’d his compass.] Compare Proverbs, c. viii. 27. And +Milton, P. L. b. vii 224. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. The Word] “The divine nature still remained incomprehensible. Of +this Lucifer was a proof; for had he thoroughly comprehended it, he would not +have fallen.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 108. The Ethiop.] Matt. c. xii. 41. +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. That volume.] Rev. c. xx. 12. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. Albert.] Purgatory, Canto VI. v. 98. +</p> + +<p> +v. 116. Prague.] The eagle predicts the devastation of Bohemia by Albert, which +happened soon after this time, when that Emperor obtained the kingdom for his +eldest son Rodolph. See Coxe’s House of Austria, 4to. ed. v. i. part 1. +p. 87 +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. He.] Philip IV of France, after the battle of Courtrai, 1302, in which +the French were defeated by the Flemings, raised the nominal value of the coin. +This king died in consequence of his horse being thrown to the ground by a wild +boar, in 1314 +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. The English and Scot.] He adverts to the disputes between John Baliol +and Edward I, the latter of whom is commended in the Purgatory, Canto VII. v. +130. +</p> + +<p> +v. 122. The Spaniard’s luxury.] The commentators refer this to Alonzo X +of Spain. It seems probable that the allusion is to Ferdinand IV who came to +the crown in 1295, and died in 1312, at the age of twenty four, in consequence, +as it was supposed, of his extreme intemperance. See Mariana, Hist I. xv. c. +11. +</p> + +<p> +v. 123. The Bohemian.] Winceslaus II. Purgatory, Canto VII. v. +</p> + +<p> +v. 125. The halter of Jerusalem.] Charles II of Naples and Jerusalem who was +lame. See note to Purgatory, Canto VII. v. 122, and XX. v. 78. +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. He.] Frederick of Sicily son of Peter III of Arragon. Purgatory, Canto +VII. v. 117. The isle of fire is Sicily, where was the tomb of Anchises. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. His uncle.] James, king of Majorca and Minorca, brother to Peter III. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. His brother.] James II of Arragon, who died in 1327. See Purgatory, +Canto VII. v. 117. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Of Portugal.] In the time of Dante, Dionysius was king of Portugal. He +died in 1328, after a reign of near forty-six years, and does not seem to have +deserved the stigma here fastened on him. See Mariana. and 1. xv. c. 18. +Perhaps the rebellious son of Dionysius may be alluded to. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. Norway.] Haquin, king of Norway, is probably meant; who, having given +refuge to the murderers of Eric VII king of Denmark, A D. 1288, commenced a war +against his successor, Erie VIII, “which continued for nine years, almost +to the utter ruin and destruction of both kingdoms.” Modern Univ. Hist. +v. xxxii p. 215. +</p> + +<p> +v. 136. -Him Of Ratza.] One of the dynasty of the house of Nemagna, which ruled +the kingdom of Rassia, or Ratza, in Sclavonia, from 1161 to 1371, and whose +history may be found in Mauro Orbino, Regno degli Slavi, Ediz. Pesaro. 1601. +Uladislaus appears to have been the sovereign in Dante’s time, but the +disgraceful forgery adverted to in the text, is not recorded by the historian +v. 138. Hungary.] The kingdom of Hungary was about this time disputed by +Carobert, son of Charles Martel, and Winceslaus, prince of Bohemia, son of +Winceslaus II. See Coxe’s House of Austria, vol. i. p. 1. p. 86. +</p> + +<p> +4to edit. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Navarre.] Navarre was now under the yoke of France. It soon after (in +1328) followed the advice of Dante and had a monarch of its own. Mariana, 1. +xv. c. 19. +</p> + +<p> +v. 141. Mountainous girdle.] The Pyrenees. +</p> + +<p> +v. 143. -Famagosta’s streets And Nicosia’s.] +</p> + +<p> +Cities in the kingdom of Cyprus, at that time ruled by Henry II a pusillanimous +prince. Vertot. Hist. des Chev. de Malte, 1. iii. iv. The meaning appears to +be, that the complaints made by those cities of their weak and worthless +governor, may be regarded as an earnest of his condemnation at the last doom. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XX</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. Wherein one shines.] The light of the sun, whence he supposes the other +celestial bodies to derive their light +</p> + +<p> +v. 8. The great sign.] The eagle, the Imperial ensign. +</p> + +<p> +v. 34. Who.] David. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. He.] Trajan. See Purgatory, Canto X. 68. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. He next.] Hezekiah. +</p> + +<p> +v. 50. The other following.] Constantine. There is no passage in which +Dante’s opinion of the evil; that had arisen from the mixture of the +civil with the ecclesiastical power, is more unequivocally declared. +</p> + +<p> +v. 57. William.] William II, king of Sicily, at the latter part of the twelfth +century He was of the Norman line of sovereigns, and obtained the appellation +of “the Good” and, as the poet says his loss was as much the +subject of regret in his dominions, as the presence of Charles I of Anjou and +Frederick of Arragon, was of sorrow and complaint. +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. Trojan Ripheus.]<br/> +Ripheus, justissimus unus<br/> +Qui fuit in Teneris, et servantissimus aequi.<br/> +Virg. Aen. 1. ii. 4—. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. This.] Ripheus. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. That.] Trajan. +</p> + +<p> +v. 103. The prayers,] The prayers of St. Gregory +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. The three nymphs.] Faith, Hope, and Charity. Purgatory, Canto XXIX. +116. v. 138. The pair.] Ripheus and Trajan. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXI</h5> + +<p> +v. 12. The seventh splendour.] The planet Saturn +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. The burning lion’s breast.] The constellation Leo. +</p> + +<p> +v. 21. In equal balance.] “My pleasure was as great in complying with her +will as in beholding her countenance.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 24. Of that lov’d monarch.] Saturn. Compare Hell, Canto XIV. 91. +</p> + +<p> +v. 56. What forbade the smile.] “Because it would have overcome +thee.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 61. There aloft.] Where the other souls were. +</p> + +<p> +v. 97. A stony ridge.] The Apennine. +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. Pietro Damiano.] “S. Pietro Damiano obtained a great and +well-merited reputation, by the pains he took to correct the abuses among the +clergy. Ravenna is supposed to have been the place of his birth, about 1007. He +was employed in several important missions, and rewarded by Stephen IX with the +dignity of cardinal, and the bishopric of Ostia, to which, however, he +preferred his former retreat in the monastery of Fonte Aveliana, and prevailed +on Alexander II to permit him to retire thither. Yet he did not long continue +in this seclusion, before he was sent on other embassies. He died at Faenza in +1072. His letters throw much light on the obscure history of these times. +Besides them, he has left several treatises on sacred and ecclesiastical +subjects. His eloquence is worthy of a better age.” Tiraboschi, Storia +della Lett Ital. t. iii. 1. iv. c. 2. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. Beside the Adriatic.] At Ravenna. Some editions have FU instead of FUI, +according to which reading, Pietro distinguishes himself from another Pietro, +who was termed “Peccator,” the sinner. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. The hat.] The cardinal’s hat. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. Cephas.] St. Peter. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119 The Holy Spirit’s vessel.] St. Paul. See Hell, Canto II. 30. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. Round this.] Round the spirit of Pietro Damiano. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXII</h5> + +<p> +v. 14. The vengeance.] Beatrice, it is supposed, intimates the approaching fate +of Boniface VIII. See Purgatory, Canto XX. 86. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. Cassino.] A castle in the Terra di Lavoro. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. I it was.] “A new order of monks, which in a manner absorbed all +the others that were established in the west, was instituted, A.D. 529, by +Benedict of Nursis, a man of piety and reputation for the age he lived +in.” Maclaine’s Mosheim, Eccles. Hist. v. ii. cent. vi. p. 2. ch. 2 +- 6. +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Macarius.] There are two of this name enumerated by Mosheim among the +Greek theologians of the fourth century, v. i. cent. iv p. 11 ch. 2 - 9. In the +following chapter, 10, it is said, “Macarius, an Egyptian monk, +undoubtedly deserves the first rank among the practical matters of this time, +as his works displayed, some few things excepted, the brightest and most lovely +portraiture of sanctity and virtue.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 48. Romoaldo.] S. Romoaldo, a native of Ravenna, and the founder of the +order of Camaldoli, died in 1027. He was the author of a commentary on the +Psalms. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. The patriarch Jacob.] So Milton, P. L. b. iii. 510:<br/> +The stairs were such, as whereon Jacob saw<br/> +Angels ascending and descending, bands<br/> +Of guardians bright. +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. The sign.] The constellation of Gemini. +</p> + +<p> +v. 130. This globe.] So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide, b. v, +</p> + +<p> +And down from thence fast he gan avise<br/> +This little spot of earth, that with the sea<br/> +Embraced is, and fully gan despite<br/> +This wretched world. +</p> + +<p> +Compare Cicero, Somn. Scip. “Jam ipsa terra ita mihi parva visa +est.” &c. Lucan, Phar 1. ix. 11; and Tasso, G. L. c. xiv. st, 9, 10, +11. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Maia and Dione.] The planets Mercury and Venus. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 11. That region.] Towards the south, where the course of the sun appears +less rapid, than, when he is in the east or the west. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Trivia.] A name of Diana. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. Th’ eternal nymphs.] The stars. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. The Might.] Our Saviour +</p> + +<p> +v. 71. The rose.] The Virgin Mary. +</p> + +<p> +v. 73. The lilies.] The apostles. +</p> + +<p> +v. 84. Thou didst exalt thy glory.] The diving light retired upwards, to render +the eyes of Dante more capable of enduring the spectacle which now presented +itself. +</p> + +<p> +v. 86. The name of that fair flower.] The name of the Virgin. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. A cresset.] The angel Gabriel. +</p> + +<p> +v. 98. That lyre.] By synecdoche, the lyre is put for the angel +</p> + +<p> +v. 99. The goodliest sapphire.] The Virgin +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. Those rich-laden coffers.] Those spirits who, having sown the seed of +good works on earth, now contain the fruit of their pious endeavours. +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. In the Babylonian exile.] During their abode in this world. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. He.] St. Peter, with the other holy men of the Old and New testament. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIV</h5> + +<p> +v. 28. Such folds.] Pindar has the same bold image: [GREEK HERE?] On which +Hayne strangely remarks: Ad ambitus stropharum vldetur +</p> + +<p> +v. 65. Faith.] Hebrews, c. xi. 1. So Marino, in one of his sonnets, which calls +Divozioni: +</p> + +<p> +Fede e sustanza di sperate cose,<br/> +E delle non visioili argomento. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. Current.] “The answer thou hast made is right; but let me know if +thy inward persuasion is conformable to thy profession.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 91. The ancient bond and new.] The Old and New Testament. +</p> + +<p> +v. 114. That Worthy.] Quel Baron. In the next Canto, St. James is called +“Barone.” So in Boccaccio, G. vi. N. 10, we find “Baron +Messer Santo Antonio.” v. 124. As to outstrip.] Venturi insists that the +Poet has here, “made a slip;” for that John came first to the +sepulchre, though Peter was the first to enter it. But let Dante have leave to +explain his own meaning, in a passage from his third book De Monarchia: +“Dicit etiam Johannes ipsum (scilicet Petrum) introiisse SUBITO, cum +venit in monumentum, videns allum discipulum cunctantem ad ostium.” Opere +de Dante, Ven. 1793. T. ii. P. 146. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXV</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. The fair sheep-fold.] Florence, whence he was banished. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. For its sake.] For the sake of that faith. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. Galicia throng’d with visitants.] See Mariana, Hist. 1. xi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. “En el tiempo,” &c. “At the time that the +sepulchre of the apostle St. James was discovered, the devotion for that place +extended itself not only over all Spain, but even round about to foreign +nations. Multitudes from all parts of the world came to visit it. Many others +were deterred by the difficulty for the journey, by the roughness and +barrenness of those parts, and by the incursions of the Moors, who made +captives many of the pilgrims. The canons of St. Eloy afterwards (the precise +time is not known), with a desire of remedying these evils, built, in many +places, along the whole read, which reached as far as to France, hospitals for +the reception of the pilgrims.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 31. Who.] The Epistle of St. James is here attributed to the elder apostle +of that name, whose shrine was at Compostella, in Galicia. Which of the two was +the author of it is yet doubtful. The learned and candid Michaelis contends +very forcibly for its having been written by James the Elder. Lardner rejects +that opinion as absurd; while Benson argues against it, but is well answered by +Michaelis, who after all, is obliged to leave the question undecided. See his +Introduction to the New Testament, translated by Dr. Marsh, ed. Cambridge, +1793. V. iv. c. 26. - 1, 2, 3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 35. As Jesus.] In the transfiguration on Mount Tabor. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. The second flame.] St. James. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. I lifted up.] “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from +whence cometh my help.” Ps. Cxxi. 1. +</p> + +<p> +v. 59. From Egypt to Jerusalem.] From the lower world to heaven. +</p> + +<p> +v. 67. Hope.] This is from the Sentences of Petrus Lombardus. “Est autem +spes virtus, qua spiritualia et aeterna bona speratam, id est, beatitudinem +aeternam. Sine meritis enim aliquid sperare non spes, sed praesumptio, dici +potest.” Pet. Lomb. Sent. 1. Iii. Dist. 26. Ed. Bas. 1486. Fol. +</p> + +<p> +v. 74. His anthem.] Psalm ix. 10. +</p> + +<p> +v. 90. Isaias ] Chap. lxi. 10. +</p> + +<p> +v. 94. Thy brother.] St. John in the Revelation, c. vii. 9. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Winter’s month.] “If a luminary, like that which now +appeared, were to shine throughout the month following the winter solstice +during which the constellation Cancer appears in the east at the setting of the +sun, there would be no interruption to the light, but the whole month would be +as a single day.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. This.] St. John, who reclined on the bosom of our Saviour, and to whose +charge Jesus recommended his mother. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. So I.] He looked so earnestly, to descry whether St. John were present +there in body, or in spirit only, having had his doubts raised by that saying +of our Saviour’s: “If I will, that he tarry till I come what is +that to thee.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 127. The two.] Christ and Mary, whom he has described, in the last Canto but +one, as rising above his sight +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVI</h5> + +<p> +v. 2. The beamy flame.] St. John. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. Ananias’ hand.] Who, by putting his hand on St. Paul, restored his +sight. Acts, c. ix. 17. +</p> + +<p> +v. 36. From him.] Some suppose that Plato is here meant, who, in his Banquet, +makes Phaedrus say: “Love is confessedly amongst the eldest of beings, +and, being the eldest, is the cause to us of the greatest goods “ Plat. +Op. t. x. p. 177. Bip. ed. Others have understood it of Aristotle, and others, +of the writer who goes by the name of Dionysius the Areopagite, referred to in +the twenty-eighth Canto. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. I will make.] Exodus, c. xxxiii. 19. +</p> + +<p> +v. 42. At the outset.] John, c. i. 1. &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. The eagle of our Lord.] St. John +</p> + +<p> +v. 62. The leaves.] Created beings. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. The first living soul.] Adam. +</p> + +<p> +v. 107. Parhelion.] Who enlightens and comprehends all things; but is himself +enlightened and comprehended by none. +</p> + +<p> +v. 117. Whence.] That is, from Limbo. See Hell, Canto II. 53. Adam says that +5232 years elapsed from his creation to the time of his deliverance, which +followed the death of Christ. +</p> + +<p> +v. 133. EL] Some read UN, “One,” instead of EL: but the latter of +these readings is confirmed by a passage from Dante’s Treatise De Vulg. +Eloq. 1. i. cap. 4. “Quod prius vox primi loquentis sonaverit, viro sanae +mentis in promptu esse non dubito ipsum fuisse quod Deus est, videlicet +El.” St. Isidore in the Origines, 1. vii. c. 1. had said, “Primum +apud Hebraeos Dei nomen El dicitur.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Use.] From Horace, Ars. Poet. 62. +</p> + +<p> +v. 138. All my life.] “I remained in the terrestrial Paradise only tothe +seventh hour.” In the Historia Scolastica of Petrus Comestor, it is said +of our first parents: Quidam tradunt eos fuisse in Paradiso septem +horae.” I. 9. ed. Par. 1513. 4to. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVII</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Four torches.] St. Peter, St. James, St. John, and Adam. +</p> + +<p> +v. 11. That.] St. Peter’ who looked as the planet Jupiter would, if it +assumed the sanguine appearance of liars. +</p> + +<p> +v. 20. He.] Boniface VIII. +</p> + +<p> +v. 26. such colour.]<br/> +Qui color infectis adversi solis ab ietu<br/> +Nubibus esse solet; aut purpureae Aurorae.<br/> +Ovid, Met. 1. iii. 184. +</p> + +<p> +v. 37. Of Linus and of Cletus.] Bishops of Rome in the first century. +</p> + +<p> +v. 40. Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed And Urban.] The former two, +bishops of the same see, in the second; and the others, in the fourth century. +v. 42. No purpose was of ours.] “We did not intend that our successors +should take any part in the political divisions among Christians, or that my +figure (the seal of St. Peter) should serve as a mark to authorize iniquitous +grants and privileges.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. Wolves.] Compare Milton, P. L. b. xii. 508, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 53. Cahorsines and Gascons.] He alludes to Jacques d’Ossa, a native of +Cahors, who filled the papal chair in 1316, after it had been two years vacant, +and assumed the name of John XXII., and to Clement V, a Gascon, of whom see +Hell, Canto XIX. 86, and Note. +</p> + +<p> +v. 63. The she-goat.] When the sun is in Capricorn. +</p> + +<p> +v. 72. From the hour.] Since he had last looked (see Canto XXII.) he perceived +that he had passed from the meridian circle to the eastern horizon, the half of +our hemisphere, and a quarter of the heaven. +</p> + +<p> +v. 76. From Gades.] See Hell, Canto XXVI. 106 +</p> + +<p> +v. 78. The shore.] Phoenicia, where Europa, the daughter of Agenor mounted on +the back of Jupiter, in his shape of a bull. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. The sun.] Dante was in the constellation Gemini, and the sun in Aries. +There was, therefore, part of those two constellations, and the whole of +Taurus, between them. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. The fair nest of Leda.] “From the Gemini;” thus called, +because Leda was the mother of the twins, Castor and Pollux +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. Time’s roots.] “Here,” says Beatrice, “are the +roots, from whence time springs: for the parts, into which it is divided, the +other heavens must be considered.” And she then breaks out into an +exclamation on the degeneracy of human nature, which does not lift itself to +the contemplation of divine things. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. The fair child of him.] So she calls human nature. Pindar by a more +easy figure, terms the day, “child of the sun.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 129. None.] Because, as has been before said, the shepherds are become +wolves. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Before the date.] “Before many ages are past, before those +fractions, which are drops in the reckoning of every year, shall amount to so +large a portion of time, that January shall be no more a winter month.” +By this periphrasis is meant “ in a short time,” as we say +familiarly, such a thing will happen before a thousand years are over when we +mean, it will happen soon. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Fortune shall be fain.] The commentators in general suppose that our +Poet here augurs that great reform, which he vainly hoped would follow on the +arrival of the Emperor Henry VII. in Italy. Lombardi refers the prognostication +to Can Grande della Scala: and, when we consider that this Canto was not +finished till after the death of Henry, as appears from the mention that is +made of John XXII, it cannot be denied but the conjecture is probable. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXVIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 36. Heav’n, and all nature, hangs upon that point.] [GREEK HERE] +Aristot. Metaph. 1. xii. c. 7. “From that beginning depend heaven and +nature.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 43. Such diff’rence.] The material world and the intelligential (the +copy and the pattern) appear to Dante to differ in this respect, that the +orbits of the latter are more swift, the nearer they are to the centre, whereas +the contrary is the case with the orbits of the former. The seeming +contradiction is thus accounted for by Beatrice. In the material world, the +more ample the body is, the greater is the good of which itis capable supposing +all the parts to be equally perfect. But in the intelligential world, the +circles are more excellent and powerful, the more they approximate to the +central point, which is God. Thus the first circle, that of the seraphim, +corresponds to the ninth sphere, or primum mobile, the second, that of the +cherubim, to the eighth sphere, or heaven of fixed stars; the third, or circle +of thrones, to the seventh sphere, or planet of Saturn; and in like manner +throughout the two other trines of circles and spheres. +</p> + +<p> +In orbs<br/> +Of circuit inexpressible they stood,<br/> +Orb within orb<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. v. 596. +</p> + +<p> +v. 70. The sturdy north.] Compare Homer, II. b. v. 524. +</p> + +<p> +v. 82. In number.] The sparkles exceeded the number which would be produced by +the sixty-four squares of a chess-board, if for the first we reckoned one, for +the next, two; for the third, four; and so went on doubling to the end of the +account. +</p> + +<p> +v. 106. Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram.] Not injured, like the +productions of our spring, by the influence of autumn, when the constellation +Aries rises at sunset. +</p> + +<p> +v. 110. Dominations.]<br/> +Hear all ye angels, progeny of light,<br/> +Thrones, domination’s, princedoms, virtues, powers.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. v. 601. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Dionysius.] The Areopagite, in his book De Caelesti Hierarchia. +</p> + +<p> +v. 124. Gregory.] Gregory the Great. “Novem vero angelorum ordines +diximus, quia videlicet esse, testante sacro eloquio, scimus: Angelos, +archangelos, virtutes, potestates, principatus, dominationae, thronos, cherubin +atque seraphin.” Divi Gregorii, Hom. xxxiv. f. 125. ed. Par. 1518. fol. +</p> + +<p> +v. 126. He had learnt.] Dionysius, he says, had learnt from St. Paul. It is +almost unnecessary to add, that the book, above referred to, which goes under +his name, was the production of a later age. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXIX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. No longer.] As short a space, as the sun and moon are in changing +hemispheres, when they are opposite to one another, the one under the sign of +Aries, and the other under that of Libra, and both hang for a moment, noised as +it were in the hand of the zenith. +</p> + +<p> +v. 22. For, not in process of before or aft.] There was neither “before +nor after,” no distinction, that is, of time, till the creation of the +world. +</p> + +<p> +v. 30. His threefold operation.] He seems to mean that spiritual beings, brute +matter, and the intermediate part of the creation, which participates both of +spirit and matter, were produced at once. +</p> + +<p> +v. 38. On Jerome’s pages.] St. Jerome had described the angels as created +before the rest of the universe: an opinion which Thomas Aquinas controverted; +and the latter, as Dante thinks, had Scripture on his side. +</p> + +<p> +v. 51. Pent.] See Hell, Canto XXXIV. 105. +</p> + +<p> +v. 111. Of Bindi and of Lapi.] Common names of men at Florence +</p> + +<p> +v. 112. The sheep.] So Milton, Lycidas.<br/> +The hungry sheep look up and are not fed,<br/> +But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw,<br/> +Rot inwardly. +</p> + +<p> +v. 121. The preacher.] Thus Cowper, Task, b. ii. +</p> + +<p> +’Tis pitiful<br/> +To court a grin, when you should woo a soul, &c. +</p> + +<p> +v. 131. Saint Anthony. Fattens with this his swine.] On the sale of these +blessings, the brothers of St. Anthony supported themselves and their +paramours. From behind the swine of St. Anthony, our Poet levels a blow at the +object of his inveterate enmity, Boniface VIII, from whom, “in 1297, they +obtained the dignity and privileges of an independent congregation.” See +Mosheim’s Eccles. History in Dr. Maclaine’s Translation, v. ii. +cent. xi. p. 2. c. 2. - 28. +</p> + +<p> +v. 140. Daniel.] “Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten +thousand times ten thousand stood before him.” Dan. c. vii. 10. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXX</h5> + +<p> +v. 1. Six thousand miles.] He compares the vanishing of the vision to the +fading away of the stars at dawn, when it is noon-day six thousand miles off, +and the shadow, formed by the earth over the part of it inhabited by the Poet, +is about to disappear. +</p> + +<p> +v. 13. Engirt.] “ ppearing to be encompassed by these angelic bands, +which are in reality encompassed by it.” +</p> + +<p> +v. 18. This turn.] Questa vice. Hence perhaps Milton, P. L. b. viii. 491. This +turn hath made amends. +</p> + +<p> +v. 39. Forth.] From the ninth sphere to the empyrean, which is more light. +</p> + +<p> +v. 44. Either mighty host.] Of angels, that remained faithful, and of beatified +souls, the latter in that form which they will have at the last day. v. 61. +Light flowing.] “And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as +crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.” Rev. +cxxii. I. +</p> + +<p> +—underneath a bright sea flow’d Of jasper, or of liquid pearl. +Milton, P. L. b. iii. 518. +</p> + +<p> +v. 80. Shadowy of the truth.]<br/> +Son di lor vero ombriferi prefazii.<br/> +So Mr. Coleridge, in his Religious Musings, v. 406.<br/> +Life is a vision shadowy of truth. +</p> + +<p> +v. 88. —the eves Of mine eyelids.] Thus Shakespeare calls the eyelids +“penthouse lids.” Macbeth, a, 1. s, 3. +</p> + +<p> +v. 108. As some cliff.]<br/> +A lake<br/> +That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown’d<br/> +Her crystal mirror holds.<br/> +Milton, P. L. b. iv. 263. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. My view with ease.]<br/> +Far and wide his eye commands<br/> +For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine.<br/> +Milton, P. l. b. iii. 616. +</p> + +<p> +v. 135. Of the great Harry.] The Emperor Henry VII, who died in 1313. +</p> + +<p> +v. 141. He.] Pope Clement V. See Canto XXVII. 53. +</p> + +<p> +v. 145. Alagna’s priest.] Pope Boniface VIII. Hell, Canto XIX. +</p> + +<p> +79. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXI</h5> + +<p> +v. 6. Bees.] Compare Homer, Iliad, ii. 87. Virg. Aen. I. 430, and Milton, P. L. +b. 1. 768. +</p> + +<p> +v. 29. Helice.] Callisto, and her son Arcas, changed into the constellations of +the Greater Bear and Arctophylax, or Bootes. See Ovid, Met. l. ii. fab. v. vi. +</p> + +<p> +v. 93. Bernard.] St. Bernard, the venerable abbot of Clairvaux, and the great +promoter of the second crusade, who died A.D. 1153, in his sixty-third year. +His sermons are called by Henault, “chefs~d’oeuvres de sentiment et +de force.” Abrege Chron. de l’Hist. de Fr. 1145. They have even +been preferred to al1 the productions of the ancients, and the author has been +termed the last of the fathers of the church. It is uncertain whether they were +not delivered originally in the French tongue. +</p> + +<p> +That the part he acts in the present Poem should be assigned to him. appears +somewhat remarkable, when we consider that he severely censured the new +festival established in honour of the Immaculate Conception of the virgin, and +opposed the doctrine itself with the greatest vigour, as it supposed her being +honoured with a privilegewhich belonged to Christ Alone Dr. Maclaine’s +Mosheim, v. iii. cent. xii. p. ii. c. 3 - 19. +</p> + +<p> +v. 95. Our Veronica ] The holy handkerchief, then preserved at Rome, on which +the countenance of our Saviour was supposed to have been imprest. +</p> + +<p> +v. 101. Him.] St. Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +v. 108. The queen.] The Virgin Mary. +</p> + +<p> +v. 119. Oriflamb.] Menage on this word quotes the Roman des<br/> +Royau<br/> +-Iignages of Guillaume Ghyart.<br/> +Oriflamme est une banniere<br/> +De cendal roujoyant et simple<br/> +Sans portraiture d’autre affaire, +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXII</h5> + +<p> +v. 3. She.] Eve. +</p> + +<p> +v. 8. Ancestress.] Ruth, the ancestress of David. +</p> + +<p> +v. 60. In holy scripture.] Gen. c. xxv. 22. v. 123. Lucia.] See Hell, Canto II. +97. +</p> + +<h5>CANTO XXXIII</h5> + +<p> +v. 63. The Sybil’s sentence.] Virg. Aen. iii. 445. +</p> + +<p> +v. 89. One moment.] “A moment seems to me more tedious, than +five-and-twenty ages would have appeared to the Argonauts, when they had +resolved on their expedition. +</p> + +<p> +v. 92. Argo’s shadow]<br/> +Quae simul ac rostro ventosnm proscidit aequor,<br/> +Tortaque remigio spumis incanduit unda,<br/> +Emersere feri candenti e gurgite vultus<br/> +Aequoreae monstrum Nereides admirantes.<br/> +Catullus, De Nupt. Pel. et Thet. 15. +</p> + +<p> +v. 109. Three orbs of triple hue, clipt in one bound.] The Trinity. +</p> + +<p> +v. 118. That circling.] The second of the circles, “Light of +Light,” in which he dimly beheld the mystery of the incarnation. +</p> + +<p> +End Paradise. +</p> + +<h2><a name="pref01"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<p> +In the years 1805 and 1806, I published the first part of the following +translation, with the text of the original. Since that period, two impressions +of the whole of the Divina Commedia, in Italian, have made their appearance in +this country. It is not necessary that I should add a third: and I am induced +to hope that the Poem, even in the present version of it, may not be without +interest for the mere English reader. +</p> + +<p> +The translation of the second and third parts, “The Purgatory” and +“The Paradise,” was begun long before the first, and as early as +the year 1797; but, owing to many interruptions, not concluded till the summer +before last. On a retrospect of the time and exertions that have been thus +employed, I do not regard those hours as the least happy of my life, during +which (to use the eloquent language of Mr. Coleridge) “my individual +recollections have been suspended, and lulled to sleep amid the music of nobler +thoughts;” nor that study as misapplied, which has familiarized me with +one of the sublimest efforts of the human invention. +</p> + +<p> +To those, who shall be at the trouble of examining into the degree of accuracy +with which the task has been executed, I may be allowed to suggest, that their +judgment should not be formed on a comparison with any single text of my +Author; since, in more instances than I have noticed, I have had to make my +choice out of a variety of readings and interpretations, presented by different +editions and commentators. +</p> + +<p> +In one or two of those editions is to be found the title of “The +Vision,” which I have adopted, as more conformable to the genius of our +language than that of “The Divine Comedy.” Dante himself, I +believe, termed it simply “The Comedy;” in the first place, because +the style was of the middle kind: and in the next, because the story (if story +it may be called) ends happily. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of a Life of my Author, I have subjoined, in chronological order, a +view not only of the principal events which befell him, but of the chief public +occurrences that happened in his time: concerning both of which the reader may +obtain further information, by turning to the passages referred to in the Poem +and Notes. +</p> + +<p> +January, 1814 +</p> + +<h2><a name="pref02"></a>A CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW</h2> + +<h5>OF</h5> + +<h5>THE AGE OF DANTE</h5> + +<h3>A. D.</h3> + +<p> +1265. Dante, son of Alighieri degli Alighieri and Bella, is born at Florence. +Of his own ancestry he speaks in the Paradise, Canto XV. and XVI. +</p> + +<p> +In the same year, Manfredi, king of Naples and Sicily, is defeated and slain by +Charles of Anjou. Hell, C. XXVIII. 13. And Purgatory, C. III. 110. +</p> + +<p> +Guido Novello of Polenta obtains the sovereignty of Ravenna.<br/> +H. C. XXVII. 38. +</p> + +<p> +1266. Two of the Frati Godenti chosen arbitrators of the differences at +Florence. H. C. XXIII. 104. Gianni de’ Soldanieri heads the populace in +that city. H. C. XXXII. 118. +</p> + +<p> +1268. Charles of Anjou puts Conradine to death, and becomes King of Naples. H. +C. XXVIII. 16 and Purg C. XX. 66. +</p> + +<p> +1272. Henry III. of England is succeeded by Edward I. Purg. C. VII. 129. +</p> + +<p> +1274. Our Poet first sees Beatrice, daughter of Folco Portinari. +</p> + +<p> +Fra.<br/> +Guittone d’Arezzo, the poet, dies. Purg. C. XXIV. 56.<br/> +Thomas Aquinas dies. Purg. C. XX. 67. and Par. C. X. 96.<br/> +Buonaventura dies. Par. C. XII. 25. +</p> + +<p> +1275. Pierre de la Brosse, secretary to Philip III. of France, executed. Purg. +C. VI. 23. +</p> + +<p> +1276. Giotto, the painter, is born. Purg. C. XI. 95. Pope Adrian V. dies. Purg. +C. XIX. 97. Guido Guinicelli, the poet, dies. Purg. C. XI. 96. and C. XXVI. 83. +</p> + +<p> +1277. Pope John XXI. dies. Par. C. XII. 126. +</p> + +<p> +1278. Ottocar, king of Bohemia, dies. Purg. C. VII. 97. +</p> + +<p> +1279. Dionysius succeeds to the throne of Portugal. Par. C. XIX. 135. +</p> + +<p> +1280. Albertus Magnus dies. Par. C. X. 95. +</p> + +<p> +1281. Pope Nicholas III. dies. H. C. XIX 71. Dante studies at the universities +of Bologna and Padua. +</p> + +<p> +1282. The Sicilian vespers. Par. C. VIII. 80.<br/> +The French defeated by the people of Forli. H. C. XXVII. 41.<br/> +Tribaldello de’ Manfredi betrays the city of Faenza. H. C.<br/> +XXXII. 119. +</p> + +<p> +1284. Prince Charles of Anjou is defeated and made prisoner by Rugiez de +Lauria, admiral to Peter III. of Arragon. Purg. C. XX. 78. Charles I. king of +Naples, dies. Purg. C. VII. 111. +</p> + +<p> +1285. Pope Martin IV. dies. Purg. C. XXIV. 23.<br/> +Philip III. of France, and Peter III. of Arragon, die. Purg. C.<br/> +VII. 101 and<br/> +110.<br/> +Henry II. king of Cyprus, comes to the throne. Par. C. XIX. 144. +</p> + +<p> +1287. Guido dalle Colonne (mentioned by Dante in his De Vulgari Eloquio) writes +“The War of Troy.” +</p> + +<p> +1288. Haquin, king of Norway, makes war on Denmark. Par. C. XIX. 135. Count +Ugolino de’ Gherardeschi dies of famine. H. C. XXXIII. 14. +</p> + +<p> +1289. Dante is in the battle of Campaldino, where the Florentines defeat the +people of Arezzo, June 11. Purg. C. V. 90. +</p> + +<p> +1290. Beatrice dies. Purg. C. XXXII. 2. He serves in the war waged by the +Florentines upon the Pisans, and is present at the surrender of Caprona in the +autumn. H. C. XXI. 92. +</p> + +<p> +1291. He marries Gemma de’ Donati, with whom he lives unhappily. +</p> + +<p> +By this marriage he had five sons and a daughter.<br/> +Can Grande della Scala is born, March 9. H. C. I. 98. Purg. C.<br/> +XX. 16. Par. C. XVII. 75. and XXVII. 135.<br/> +The renegade Christians assist the Saracens to recover St. John<br/> +D’Acre. H. C. XXVII. 84.<br/> +The Emperor Rodolph dies. Purg. C. VI. 104. and VII. 91.<br/> +Alonzo III. of Arragon dies, and is succeeded by James II.<br/> +Purg. C. VII. 113. and Par. C. XIX. 133. +</p> + +<p> +1294. Clement V. abdicates the papal chair. H. C. III. 56. Dante writes his +Vita Nuova. +</p> + +<p> +1295. His preceptor, Brunetto Latini, dies. H. C. XV. 28. Charles Martel, king +of Hungary, visits Florence, Par. C. VIII. 57. and dies in the same year. +Frederick, son of Peter III. of Arragon, becomes king of Sicily. Purg. C. VII. +117. and Par. C. XIX. 127. +</p> + +<p> +1296. Forese, the companion of Dante, dies. Purg. C. XXXIII. 44. +</p> + +<p> +1300. The Bianca and Nera parties take their rise in Pistoia.<br/> +H. C. XXXII. 60.<br/> +This is the year in which he supposes himself to see his Vision.<br/> +H. C. I. 1. and XXI. 109.<br/> +He is chosen chief magistrate, or first of the Priors of<br/> +Florence; and continues in office from June 15 to August 15.<br/> +Cimabue, the painter, dies. Purg. C. XI. 93.<br/> +Guido Cavalcanti, the most beloved of our Poet’s friends, dies.<br/> +H. C. X. 59. and Purg C. XI. 96. +</p> + +<p> +1301. The Bianca party expels the Nera from Pistoia. H. C. XXIV. 142. +</p> + +<p> +1302. January 27. During his absence at Rome, Dante is mulcted<br/> +by his fellow-citizens in the sum of 8000 lire, and condemned to<br/> +two years’ banishment.<br/> +March 10. He is sentenced, if taken, to be burned.<br/> +Fulcieri de’ Calboli commits great atrocities on certain of the<br/> +Ghibelline party. Purg. C. XIV. 61.<br/> +Carlino de’ Pazzi betrays the castle di Piano Travigne, in<br/> +Valdarno, to the Florentines. H. C. XXXII. 67.<br/> +The French vanquished in the battle of Courtrai. Purg. C. XX. 47.<br/> +James, king of Majorca and Minorca, dies. Par. C. XIX. 133. +</p> + +<p> +1303. Pope Boniface VIII. dies. H. C. XIX. 55. Purg. C. XX. 86. XXXII. 146. and +Par. C. XXVII. 20. The other exiles appoint Dante one of a council of twelve, +under Alessandro da Romena. He appears to have been much dissatisfied with his +colleagues. Par. C. XVII. 61. +</p> + +<p> +1304. He joins with the exiles in an unsuccessful attack on the city of +Florence. May. The bridge over the Arno breaks down during a representation of +the infernal torments exhibited on that river. H. C. XXVI. 9. July 20. +Petrarch, whose father had been banished two years before from Florence, is +born at Arezzo. +</p> + +<p> +1305. Winceslaus II. king of Bohemia, dies. Purg. C. VII. 99. and Par. C. XIX +123. A conflagration happens at Florence. H. C. XXVI. 9. +</p> + +<p> +1306. Dante visits Padua. +</p> + +<p> +1307. He is in Lunigiana with the Marchese Marcello Malaspina. Purg. C. VIII. +133. and C. XIX. 140. Dolcino, the fanatic, is burned. H. C. XXVIII. 53. +</p> + +<p> +1308. The Emperor Albert I. murdered. Purg. C. VI. 98. and<br/> +Par. C. XIX. 114.<br/> +Corso Donati, Dante’s political enemy, slain. Purg. C. XXIV. 81.<br/> +He seeks an asylum at Verona, under the roof of the Signori della +</p> + +<p> +Scala. Par. C. XVII. 69. He wanders, about this time, over various parts of +Italy. See his Convito. He is at Paris twice; and, as one of the early +commentators reports, at Oxford. +</p> + +<p> +1309. Charles II. king of Naples, dies. Par. C. XIX. 125. +</p> + +<p> +1310. The Order of the Templars abolished. Purg. C. XX. 94. +</p> + +<p> +1313. The Emperor Henry of Luxemburg, by whom he had hoped to be restored to +Florence, dies. Par. C. XVII. 80. and XXX. 135. He takes refuge at Ravenna with +Guido Novello da Polenta. +</p> + +<p> +1314. Pope Clement V. dies. H. C. XIX. 86. and<br/> +Par. C. XXVII. 53. and XXX. 141.<br/> +Philip IV. of France dies. Purg. C. VII. 108. and Par. C. XIX.<br/> +117.<br/> +Ferdinand IV. of Spain, dies. Par. C. XIX. 122.<br/> +Giacopo da Carrara defeated by Can Grande. Par. C. IX. 45. +</p> + +<p> +1316. John XXII. elected Pope. Par. C. XXVII. 53. +</p> + +<p> +1321. July. Dante dies at Ravenna, of a complaint brought on by disappointment +at his failure in a negotiation which he had been conducting with the +Venetians, for his patron Guido Novello da Polenta. His obsequies are +sumptuously performed at Ravenna by Guido, who himself died in the ensuing +year. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1008 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + |