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diff --git a/1008-0.txt b/1008-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0dce494 --- /dev/null +++ b/1008-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21957 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1008 *** + +THE DIVINE COMEDY OF DANTE ALIGHIERI + +Translated by +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. + + + + +Contents + + HELL + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + CANTO XXXIV. + NOTES TO HELL. + + PURGATORY + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + NOTES TO PURGATORY. + + PARADISE + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + NOTES TO PARADISE. + + PREFACE + A CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW + + + + +HELL + + + + +CANTO I + + +In the midway of this our mortal life, +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell +It were no easy task, how savage wild +That forest, how robust and rough its growth, +Which to remember only, my dismay +Renews, in bitterness not far from death. +Yet to discourse of what there good befell, +All else will I relate discover’d there. +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say, +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d +My senses down, when the true path I left, +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread, +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad +Already vested with that planet’s beam, +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. + +Then was a little respite to the fear, +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain, +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d: +And as a man, with difficult short breath, +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore, +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits, +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame +After short pause recomforted, again +I journey’d on over that lonely steep, +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light, +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d, +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove +To check my onward going; that ofttimes +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. + +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars, +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d, +And by new dread succeeded, when in view +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d, +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad, +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d, +That of the height all hope I lost. As one, +Who with his gain elated, sees the time +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I, +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace, +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. + +While to the lower space with backward step +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one, +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech. +When him in that great desert I espied, +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud, +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” + +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was, +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both +By country, when the power of Julius yet +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time +Of fabled deities and false. A bard +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son +The subject of my song, who came from Troy, +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers. +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?” +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring, +From which such copious floods of eloquence +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied. +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train! +May it avail me that I long with zeal +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide! +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d +That style, which for its beauty into fame +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled. +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage! +For every vein and pulse throughout my frame +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape +From out that savage wilderness. This beast, +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death: +So bad and so accursed in her kind, +That never sated is her ravenous will, +Still after food more craving than before. +To many an animal in wedlock vile +She fastens, and shall yet to many more, +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support +By earth nor its base metals, but by love, +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise, +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure, +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell. +He with incessant chase through every town +Shall worry, until he to hell at length +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose. +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise, +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space, +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke +A second death; and those next view, who dwell +Content in fire, for that they hope to come, +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest, +Into whose regions if thou then desire +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart, +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King, +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law, +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed, +That to his city none through me should come. +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds +His citadel and throne. O happy those, +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few: +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore, +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst, +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” + +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. + + + + +CANTO II + + +Now was the day departing, and the air, +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d +All animals on earth; and I alone +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain, +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. + +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept +Safe in a written record, here thy worth +And eminent endowments come to proof. + +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide, +Consider well, if virtue be in me +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire, +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord, +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d, +In contemplation of the high effect, +Both what and who from him should issue forth, +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d: +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide, +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire: +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds. +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d, +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise +And to the papal robe. In after-times +The chosen vessel also travel’d there, +To bring us back assurance in that faith, +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way. +But I, why should I there presume? or who +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul. +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then +I venture, fear it will in folly end. +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st, +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts +Changes his purpose, from his first intent +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast, +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous, +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft +So overcasts a man, that he recoils +From noblest resolution, like a beast +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, +I will instruct thee why I came, and what +I heard in that same instant, when for thee +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe, +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest +And lovely, I besought her to command, +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d: +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! +A friend, not of my fortune but myself, +On the wide desert in his road has met +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d. +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d, +And I be ris’n too late for his relief, +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, +And by all means for his deliverance meet, +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. +I who now bid thee on this errand forth +Am Beatrice; from a place I come +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” + +(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.) + + +She then was silent, and I thus began: +“O Lady! by whose influence alone, +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, +So thy command delights me, that to obey, +If it were done already, would seem late. +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will; +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth +To leave that ample space, where to return +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” + +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed, +None else, for none are terrible beside. +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace! +That any suff’rance of your misery +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines. +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake: +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid +And I commend him to thee.” At her word +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, +And coming to the place, where I abode +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God! +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave +For thy sake all the multitude admires? +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?” +Ne’er among men did any with such speed +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, +As when these words were spoken, I came here, +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” + +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d, +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast, +Who thy near way across the goodly mount +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then? +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven; +And so much certain good my words forebode.” + +As florets, by the frosty air of night +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves, +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d, +And to my heart such kindly courage ran, +That I as one undaunted soon replied: +“O full of pity she, who undertook +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform +So soon her true behest! With such desire +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage, +That my first purpose fully is resum’d. +Lead on: one only will is in us both. +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” + +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d, +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. + + + + +CANTO III + + +“Through me you pass into the city of woe: +Through me you pass into eternal pain: +Through me among the people lost for aye. +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d: +To rear me was the task of power divine, +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. +Before me things create were none, save things +Eternal, and eternal I endure. +All hope abandon ye who enter here.” + +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d: +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied: +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave; +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d, +Into that secret place he led me on. + +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star, +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues, +Horrible languages, outcries of woe, +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds, +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d, +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. + +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried: +“O master! What is this I hear? What race +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” + +He thus to me: “This miserable fate +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth, +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” + +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus, +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied: +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death +No hope may entertain: and their blind life +So meanly passes, that all other lots +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none, +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both. +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” + +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag, +Which whirling ran around so rapidly, +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. + +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith +I understood for certain this the tribe +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived, +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet, +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. + +Then looking farther onwards I beheld +A throng upon the shore of a great stream: +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few: +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” + +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame, +Fearing my words offensive to his ear, +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not +Ever to see the sky again. I come +To take you to the other shore across, +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld +I left them not, “By other way,” said he, +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore, +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide: +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’tis will’d, +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” + +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake, +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d, +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d, +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed +That did engender them and give them birth. + +Then all together sorely wailing drew +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form, +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, +One still another following, till the bough +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore, +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. + +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave, +And ever they on the opposing bank +Be landed, on this side another throng +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide, +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God, +All here together come from every clime, +And to o’erpass the river are not loth: +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain, +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” + +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast, +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame, +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. + + + + +CANTO IV + + +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright, +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d +With fixed ken to know what place it was, +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink +I found me of the lamentable vale, +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. + +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look: +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” + +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus: +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” + +He then: “The anguish of that race below +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d; +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss. +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin +Were blameless; and if aught they merited, +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, +The portal to thy faith. If they before +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright; +And among such am I. For these defects, +And for no other evil, we are lost; +Only so far afflicted, that we live +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d! +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish +Of full assurance in that holy faith, +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er +Any, or through his own or other’s merit, +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” + +Piercing the secret purport of my speech, +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate, +When I beheld a puissant one arrive +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d. +He forth the shade of our first parent drew, +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d, +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, +Israel with his sire and with his sons, +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, +And others many more, whom he to bliss +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d, +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” + +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road, +Still passing through the wood; for so I name +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space +Were distant, not so far but I in part +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” + +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names +That echoes through your world above, acquires +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.” +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!” +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. + +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him, +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, +The other three preceding, as their lord. +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling; +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. +Because they all that appellation own, +With which the voice singly accosted me, +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” + +So I beheld united the bright school +Of him the monarch of sublimest song, +That o’er the others like an eagle soars. +When they together short discourse had held, +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d: +Nor was this all; but greater honour still +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. + +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d +Speaking of matters, then befitting well +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d, +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates +I with those sages enter’d, and we came +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. + +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around +Majestically mov’d, and in their port +Bore eminent authority; they spake +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. + +We to one side retir’d, into a place +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent +There on the green enamel of the plain +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight +I am exalted in my own esteem. + +Electra there I saw accompanied +By many, among whom Hector I knew, +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there +Penthesilea. On the other side +Old King Latinus, seated by his child +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. + +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow, +I spied the master of the sapient throng, +Seated amid the philosophic train. +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due. +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d, +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made +That commentary vast, Averroes. + +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two +The six associates part. Another way +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms: +And to a part I come where no light shines. + + + + +CANTO V + + +From the first circle I descended thus +Down to the second, which, a lesser space +Embracing, so much more of grief contains +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, +According as he foldeth him around: +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul, +It all confesses; and that judge severe +Of sins, considering what place in hell +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. + +“O thou! who to this residence of woe +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide: +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” + +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard. +Now am I come where many a plaining voice +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell +With restless fury drives the spirits on +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy. +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. + +I understood that to this torment sad +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops +And multitudinous, when winter reigns, +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. +On this side and on that, above, below, +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes, +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky, +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—” The first +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied, +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree, +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d. +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ, +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d; +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. +The next in amorous fury slew herself, +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith: +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” + +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long +The time was fraught with evil; there the great +Achilles, who with love fought to the end. +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. + +When I had heard my sage instructor name +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly +I would address those two together coming, +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus: +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach. +Then by that love which carries them along, +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech: +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves +By fond desire invited, on wide wings +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks, +They through the ill air speeding; with such force +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. + +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st +Visiting, through this element obscure, +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d; +If for a friend the King of all we own’d, +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise, +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind, +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. + +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt, +Entangled him by that fair form, from me +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d, +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not. +Love brought us to one death: Caina waits +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words; +At hearing which downward I bent my looks, +And held them there so long, that the bard cried: +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus: +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” + +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d. +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate +Even to tears my grief and pity moves. +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied: +“No greater grief than to remember days +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly +If thou art bent to know the primal root, +From whence our love gat being, I will do, +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day +For our delight we read of Lancelot, +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er +From me shall separate, at once my lips +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake, +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. + + + + +CANTO VI + + +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see +New torments, new tormented souls, which way +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d +For ever, both in kind and in degree. +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain: +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. + +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog +Over the multitude immers’d beneath. +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, +Under the rainy deluge, with one side +The other screening, oft they roll them round, +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall +His fury, bent alone with eager haste +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. + +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. + +They all along the earth extended lay +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit, +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!” +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led, +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied: +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems +As if I saw thee never. But inform +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad +Art set, and in such torment, that although +Other be greater, more disgustful none +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus: +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim, +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn; +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” + +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d: +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st, +What shall at length befall the citizens +Of the divided city; whether any just one +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” + +He then: “After long striving they will come +To blood; and the wild party from the woods +Will chase the other with much injury forth. +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within +Three solar circles; and the other rise +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load, +And grieving sore. The just are two in number, +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride, +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound; +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn +More from thee, farther parley still entreat. +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo, +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear, +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight: +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st, +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” + +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance, +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head, +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. + +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves, +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power +Adverse to these shall then in glory come, +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” + +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides +That as each thing to more perfection grows, +It feels more sensibly both good and pain. +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse +Much more than I relate between us pass’d: +Till at the point, where the steps led below, +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. + + + + +CANTO VII + + +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d, +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.” +Then to that sworn lip turning, “ Peace!” he cried, +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound +Not without cause he passes. So ’tis will’d +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” + +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split; +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. + +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? + +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks; +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, +From one side and the other, with loud voice, +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts, +Then smote together, and each one forthwith +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again, +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?” +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?” +So still repeating their despiteful song, +They to the opposite point on either hand +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d, +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide! +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” + +He straight replied: “In their first life these all +In mind were so distorted, that they made, +According to due measure, of their wealth, +No use. This clearly from their words collect, +Which they howl forth, at each extremity +Arriving of the circle, where their crime +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” + +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be, +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus: +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life, +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, +And to all knowledge indiscernible. +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off. +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, +The goods committed into fortune’s hands, +For which the human race keep such a coil! +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: + +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn; +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is, +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” + +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers +To guide them, so that each part shines to each, +Their light in equal distribution pour’d. +By similar appointment he ordain’d +Over the world’s bright images to rule. +Superintendence of a guiding hand +And general minister, which at due time +May change the empty vantages of life +From race to race, from one to other’s blood, +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care: +Wherefore one nation rises into sway, +Another languishes, e’en as her will +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass +The serpent train. Against her nought avails +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs +The other powers divine. Her changes know +Nore intermission: by necessity +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim +Succession in her favours. This is she, +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully +With blame requite her, and with evil word; +But she is blessed, and for that recks not: +Amidst the other primal beings glad +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe +Descending: for each star is falling now, +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d +To the next steep, arriving at a well, +That boiling pours itself down to a foss +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave +Than sablest grain: and we in company +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side, +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath. +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. + +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son! +The souls of those, whom anger overcame. +This too for certain know, that underneath +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs +Into these bubbles make the surface heave, +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn. +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.” +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d +Between the dry embankment, and the core +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees; +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung +We mark’d, and from afar another light +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d: +“Say what this means? and what that other light +In answer set? what agency doth this?” + +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied, +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” + +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d, +That ran its way so nimbly through the air, +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied +Toward us coming, under the sole sway +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied; +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d, +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, +More deeply than with others it is wont. + +While we our course o’er the dead channel held. +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said; +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” + +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not; +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” + +“One, as thou seest, who mourn: “ he straight replied. + +To which I thus: “ In mourning and in woe, +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well, +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there +To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one +For arrogance noted; to his memory +No virtue lends its lustre; even so +Here is his shadow furious. There above +How many now hold themselves mighty kings +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” + +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” + +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish, +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes +Set on him with such violence, that yet +For that render I thanks to God and praise +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all: +And on himself the moody Florentine +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left, +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. + +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son! +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d, +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” + +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir! +There certes in the valley I descry, +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire, +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” + +We came within the fosses deep, that moat +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth! +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,” +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d; +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm. +Alone return he by his witless way; +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee, +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader! +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words. +I did believe I never should return. + +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times +Security hast render’d me, and drawn +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d, +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme. +And if our onward going be denied, +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” + +My liege, who thither had conducted me, +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high +Authority permitted. But do thou +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” + +This said, departs the sire benevolent, +And quits me. Hesitating I remain +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. + +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them, +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates +By those our adversaries on the breast +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?” +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think +No ground of terror: in this trial I +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d, +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now +On this side of its entrance, down the steep, +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes +One whose strong might can open us this land.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back, +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn, +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye +Not far could lead him through the sable air, +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves +We win this fight”—thus he began—” if not— +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” + +I noted, how the sequel of his words +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake +Agreed not with the first. But not the less +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew +To import worse perchance, than that he held, +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” + +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied, +“It chances, that among us any makes +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh +Was naked of me, when within these walls +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure. +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more +He added: but I hold it not in mind, +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top. +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood: +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d; +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. + +He knowing well the miserable hags +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left +This is Megaera; on the right hand she, +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d, +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound. +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d. +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said, +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round, +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own +He also hid me. Ye of intellect +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d +Under close texture of the mystic strain! + +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung, +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might, +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. + +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam, +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound. +He, from his face removing the gross air, +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat +Open without impediment it flew. + +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!” +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing, +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs? +What profits at the fays to but the horn? +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” + +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way, +And syllable to us spake none, but wore +The semblance of a man by other care +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps +Toward that territory mov’d, secure +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn +What state a fortress like to that might hold, +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around, +And see on every part wide-stretching space +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. + +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles, +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf, +That closes Italy and laves her bounds, +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres; +So was it here, save what in horror here +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames, +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d, +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. + +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans, +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. + +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: + +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied +By every sect their followers; and much more, +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like +With like is buried; and the monuments +Are different in degrees of heat. “This said, +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. + + + + +CANTO X + + +Now by a secret pathway we proceed, +Between the walls, that hem the region round, +And the tormented souls: my master first, +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!” +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st, +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those, +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen? +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring +Their bodies, which above they now have left. +The cemetery on this part obtain +With Epicurus all his followers, +Who with the body make the spirit die. +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish, +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied: +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words, +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” + +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech! +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance +Declares the place of thy nativity +To be that noble land, with which perchance +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn. +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt, +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” + +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot, +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” + +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” + +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw, +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin, +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d. +It look’d around, as eager to explore +If there were other with me; but perceiving +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st. +Led by thy lofty genius and profound, +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” + +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come, +By him, who there expects me, through this clime +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son +Had in contempt.” Already had his words +And mode of punishment read me his name, +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD? +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay +I made ere my reply aware, down fell +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. + +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern, +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side. +“And if,” continuing the first discourse, +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown, +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed. +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm, +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art. +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return, +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws, +Against my kin this people is so fell?” + +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied, +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain— +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray +I stood not singly, nor without just cause +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d; +But singly there I stood, when by consent +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d, +The one who openly forbad the deed.” + +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,” +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot, +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” + +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,” +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote: +So much of his large spendour yet imparts +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach +Or actually exist, our intellect +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state +Except what others bring us know we aught. +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, +When on futurity the portals close.” + +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say +To him there fallen, that his offspring still +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know, +That if from answer silent I abstain’d, +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” + +But now my master summoning me back +I heard, and with more eager haste besought +The spirit to inform me, who with him +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: + +“More than a thousand with me here are laid +Within is Frederick, second of that name, +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew. +But I my steps towards the ancient bard +Reverting, ruminated on the words +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d, +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight: +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,” +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, + +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” + +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet: +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. + + + + +CANTO XI + + +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank, +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came, +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d: +And here to shun the horrible excess +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast +From the profound abyss, behind the lid +Of a great monument we stood retir’d, +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then: +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend! +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began, +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d, +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how +And for what cause in durance they abide. + +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven, +The end is injury; and all such end +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, +To God is more displeasing; and beneath +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure +Severer pang. The violent occupy +All the first circle; and because to force +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d. +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes +By devastation, pillage, and the flames, +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence +The torment undergo of the first round +In different herds. Man can do violence +To himself and his own blessings: and for this +He in the second round must aye deplore +With unavailing penitence his crime, +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light, +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy. +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart +Denying and blaspheming his high power, +And nature with her kindly law contemning. +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. + +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust +He wins, or on another who withholds +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes. +Whence in the second circle have their nest +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, +With such vile scum as these. The other way +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” + +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm +And its inhabitants with skill exact. +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them? +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d: +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will, +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness, +And how incontinence the least offends +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note +This judgment, and remember who they are, +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d, +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” + +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt, +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms. +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply: +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear, +Clearly points out, not in one part alone, +How imitative nature takes her course +From the celestial mind and from its art: +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads +In his instructor’s step, so that your art +Deserves the name of second in descent +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning +Were the right source of life and excellence +To human kind. But in another path +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself +And in her follower thus he sets at nought, +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now +My steps on forward journey bent; for now +The Pisces play with undulating glance +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +The place where to descend the precipice +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. + +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave, +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop; +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d +To the low level, so the headlong rock +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give +To him who from above would pass; e’en such +Into the chasm was that descent: and there +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d +The infamy of Crete, detested brood +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st +The King of Athens here, who, in the world +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt! +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art, +But to behold your torments is he come.” + +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’tis well +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: + +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep, +Guarded by the brute violence, which I +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst +Hither descended to the nether hell, +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul, +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love, +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point, +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d, +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust! +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on +In the brief life, and in the eternal then +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, +As circling all the plain; for so my guide +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d, +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. + +At seeing us descend they each one stood; +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” + +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” + +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this, +Who for the fair Deianira died, +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate. +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d; +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. + +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d: +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive, +And solitary so must needs by me +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d +By strict necessity, not by delight. +She left her joyful harpings in the sky, +Who this new office to my care consign’d. +He is no robber, no dark spirit I. +But by that virtue, which empowers my step +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray, +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey +Across, him mounted on his back; for he +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” + +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide. +And if ye chance to cross another troop, +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d, +The faithful escort by our side, along +The border of the crimson-seething flood, +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. + +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, +And Dionysius fell, who many a year +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs, +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him +Be to thee now first leader, me but next +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat +Were extant from the wave; and showing us +A spirit by itself apart retir’d, +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart, +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” + +A race I next espied, who held the head, +And even all the bust above the stream. +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well. +Thus shallow more and more the blood became, +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet; +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. + +“As ever on this side the boiling wave +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said, +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d, +It lower still and lower sinks its bed, +Till in that part it reuniting join, +Where ’tis the lot of tyranny to mourn. +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d, +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank, +We enter’d on a forest, where no track +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these, +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields, +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. + +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band +Drove with dire boding of their future woe. +Broad are their pennons, of the human form +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. + +The kind instructor in these words began: +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold, +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d, +That I had thought so many voices came +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d, +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off +A single twig from one of those ill plants, +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” + +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand, +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch, +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou me?” +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side, +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus? +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast? +Men once were we, that now are rooted here. +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green, +That burning at one end from the’ other sends +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind +That forces out its way, so burst at once, +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. + +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied: +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d, +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand. +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief, +Prompted him to this deed, which even now +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast; +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends, +In the upper world (for thither to return +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” + +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge +A little longer, in the snare detain’d, +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards, +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet, +That besides me, into his inmost breast +Scarce any other could admittance find. +The faith I bore to my high charge was such, +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins. +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all; +And to Augustus they so spread the flame, +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes. +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became, +Just as I was, unjust toward myself. +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear, +That never faith I broke to my liege lord, +Who merited such honour; and of you, +If any to the world indeed return, +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” + +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words +Were ended, then to me the bard began: +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask, +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied: +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” + +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare, +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied; +And whether any ever from such frame +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” + +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; + +Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs +The fierce soul from the body, by itself +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls, +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt, +It rises to a sapling, growing thence +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them +We may again be clad; for what a man +Takes from himself it is not just he have. +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung, +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” + +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight, +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood. +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee death!” +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.” +And then, for that perchance no longer breath +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush +One group he made. Behind them was the wood +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet, +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash. +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs, +And having rent him piecemeal bore away +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand, +And led me to the thicket, which in vain +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,” +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen? +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” + +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake: +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” + +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up, +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt, +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d, +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him, +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls +Upon the ashes left by Attila, +Had labour’d without profit of their toil. +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +Soon as the charity of native land +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence +We came, which from the third the second round +Divides, and where of justice is display’d +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge, +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. + +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh ! how shouldst thou be fear’d +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! + +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw, +All weeping piteously, to different laws +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine, +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d +Incessantly around; the latter tribe, +More numerous, those fewer who beneath +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. + +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d. +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop +To trample on the soil; for easier thus +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone; +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands, +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began: +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st, +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn, +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” + +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out +At their black smithy labouring by turns +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud; +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might, +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” + +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus! +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage, +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” + +Next turning round to me with milder lip +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one, +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held, +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain, +And sets his high omnipotence at nought. +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it. +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out +Among the sinful women; so ran this +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank +Stone-built, and either margin at its side, +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. + +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard, +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d, +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” + +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought, +That having giv’n me appetite to know, +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. + +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began, +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d, +Under whose monarch in old times the world +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there, +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams, +Deserted now like a forbidden thing. +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse, +Chose for the secret cradle of her son; +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass. +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel, +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which +Than on the other more erect he stands, +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout; +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course +Thus far precipitated down the rock +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon; +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all, +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” + +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied: +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left +Descending to the nethermost, not yet +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb. +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear, +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” + +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower, +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d: +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear. +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see, +But not within this hollow, in the place, +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go, +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.” +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood. +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames; +For over them all vapour is extinct.” + + + + +CANTO XV + + +One of the solid margins bears us now +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds, +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round +I might not have discern’d it, when we met +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. + +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide +One eyes another under a new moon, +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen, +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. + +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe, +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” + +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm, +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks, +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not +But I remember’d him; and towards his face +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto! +And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son! +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto +Latini but a little space with thee +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” + +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can, +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing, +That I here seat me with thee, I consent; +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” + +“O son!” said he, “ whoever of this throng +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years, +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” + +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread +On equal ground with him, but held my head +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. + +“What chance or destiny,” thus be began, +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below? +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” + +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost, +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d. +But yester-morn I left it: then once more +Into that vale returning, him I met; +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” + +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star, +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven: +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d. +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d, +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work. +But that ungrateful and malignant race, +Who in old times came down from Fesole, +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint, +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity. +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit. +Old fame reports them in the world for blind, +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well: +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve, +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant, +If any such yet spring on their rank bed, +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d, +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” + +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied, +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart +The dear, benign, paternal image, such +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me +The way for man to win eternity; +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves, +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak, +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down: +And with another text to comment on +For her I keep it, the celestial dame, +Who will know all, if I to her arrive. +This only would I have thee clearly note: +That so my conscience have no plea against me; +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d. +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear. +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best, +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” + +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake: +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” + +I not the less still on my way proceed, +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. + +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied, +“But of the rest silence may best beseem. +Time would not serve us for report so long. +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks, +Men of great learning and no less renown, +By one same sin polluted in the world. +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son +Francesco herds among that wretched throng: +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen, +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add, +But must from farther speech and onward way +Alike desist, for yonder I behold +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain. +A company, with whom I may not sort, +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee, +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” + +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those, +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d, +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +Now came I where the water’s din was heard, +As down it fell into the other round, +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees: +When forth together issu’d from a troop, +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm, +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came, +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay! +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem +To be some inmate of our evil land.” + +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs, +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames! +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. + +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d, +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake; +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well: +And were ’t not for the nature of the place, +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said, +That haste had better suited thee than them.” + +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail, +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel. +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil, +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet; +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance +At me directed, so that opposite +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. + +“If misery of this drear wilderness,” +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us +And our entreaties, let our great renown +Incline thee to inform us who thou art, +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st +My steps pursuing, naked though he be +And reft of all, was of more high estate +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d, +Who in his lifetime many a noble act +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword. +The other, next to me that beats the sand, +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well, +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself +Who in this torment do partake with them, +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife +Of savage temper, more than aught beside +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem, +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire, +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. + +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more, +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand. +I am a countryman of yours, who still +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far +As to the centre first I downward tend.” + +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,” +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell, +If courtesy and valour, as they wont, +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean? +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail, +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers, +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” + +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains, +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!” +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they +All three, who for an answer took my words, +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,” +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou, +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought! +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime, +Returning to behold the radiant stars, +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past, +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” + +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. + +Not in so short a time might one have said +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. + +E’en as the river, that holds on its course +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo, +On the left side of Apennine, toward +The east, which Acquacheta higher up +They call, ere it descend into the vale, +At Forli by that name no longer known, +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice, +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads; +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found, +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud, +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. + +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round, +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take +The painted leopard. This when I had all +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade) +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him. +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink +Standing few paces distant, cast it down +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,” +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use +With those who look not at the deed alone, +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! + +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect, +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth, +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears, +A man, if possible, should bar his lip; +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach. +But silence here were vain; and by these notes +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee, +So may they favour find to latest times! +That through the gross and murky air I spied +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise +As one returns, who hath been down to loose +An anchor grappled fast against some rock, +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies, +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting! +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d, +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore, +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. + +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d, +His head and upper part expos’d on land, +But laid not on the shore his bestial train. +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore, +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast, +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes +And orbits. Colours variegated more +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state +With interchangeable embroidery wove, +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom. +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore, +Stands part in water, part upon the land; +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor, +The beaver settles watching for his prey; +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock, +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork, +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide: +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart, +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” + +Thereat toward the right our downward course +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive, +A little further on mine eye beholds +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake: +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse. +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs. +Against the vapours and the torrid soil +Alternately their shifting hands they plied. +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. + +Noting the visages of some, who lay +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire, +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d, +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch +With colours and with emblems various mark’d, +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. + +And when amongst them looking round I came, +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought, +That wore a lion’s countenance and port. +Then still my sight pursuing its career, +Another I beheld, than blood more red. +A goose display of whiter wing than curd. +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus: +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know, +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here +Vitaliano on my left shall sit. +A Paduan with these Florentines am I. +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming +“O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch +With the three beaks will bring!” This said, he writh’d +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long, +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. + +My guide already seated on the haunch +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold. +Down such a steep flight must we now descend! +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” + +As one, who hath an ague fit so near, +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade; +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words. +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes +The servant bold in presence of his lord. + +I settled me upon those shoulders huge, +And would have said, but that the words to aid +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” + +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d, +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent. +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” + +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land, +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d, +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round +There where the breast had been, his forked tail. +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d, +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. + +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d, +By liquefaction of the scalded wax, +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins, +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!” +Than was my dread, when round me on each part +The air I view’d, and other object none +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me, +But that the wind, arising to my face, +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right +I heard the cataract beneath us leap +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore, +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge: +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs, +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before, +By the dread torments that on every side +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. + +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!” +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits +At distance from his lord in angry mood; +So Geryon lighting places us on foot +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock, +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +There is a place within the depths of hell +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst +Of that abominable region, yawns +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. + +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence +Affording to the space within, so here +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses +E’en from their threshold to the brink without, +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, +That in one bound collected cuts them off. +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. + +On our right hand new misery I saw, +New pains, new executioners of wrath, +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, +Meeting our faces from the middle point, +With us beyond but with a larger stride. +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid +The thronging multitudes, their means devise +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side +All front toward the castle, and approach +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. + +Each divers way along the grisly rock, +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge, +That on their back unmercifully smote. +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! +None for the second waited nor the third. + +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit, +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d: +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, +Unless thy features do belie thee much, +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee +Into this bitter seas’ning? “ He replied: +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words. +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls +The world I once inhabited, constrains me. +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d +That not so many tongues this day are taught, +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream, +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase. +And if of that securer proof thou need, +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” + +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d +My escort, and few paces thence we came +To where a rock forth issued from the bank. +That easily ascended, to the right +Upon its splinter turning, we depart +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d, +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said, +“And let these others miserable, now +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, +For that together they with us have walk’d.” + +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest, +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d: +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear. +How yet the regal aspect he retains! +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle +His passage thither led him, when those bold +And pitiless women had slain all their males. +There he with tokens and fair witching words +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young, +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d. +Impregnated he left her there forlorn. +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged. +All bear him company, who like deceit +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. + +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung, +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. + +So hollow is the depth, that from no part, +Save on the summit of the rocky span, +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; +And thence I saw, within the foss below, +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d +Draff of the human body. There beneath +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d +One with his head so grim’d, ’twere hard to deem, +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me, +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” + +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied, +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung. +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” + +Then beating on his brain these words he spake: +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” + +My leader thus: “A little further stretch +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan, +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. +Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d, +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’ +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, +His wretched followers! who the things of God, +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute +For gold and silver in adultery! +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault +We now had mounted, where the rock impends +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. + +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, +And in the evil world, how just a meed +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! + +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides +And in its bottom full of apertures, +All equal in their width, and circular each, +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams, +One of the which I brake, some few years past, +To save a whelming infant; and be this +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet +And of the legs high upward as the calf +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. + +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. + +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” + +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best. +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.” +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d, +And on our left descended to the depth, +A narrow strait and perforated close. +Nor from his side my leader set me down, +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art, +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began, +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” + +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d, +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. + +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there? +Already standest there, O Boniface! +By many a year the writing play’d me false. +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” + +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d +In mockery, nor know what to reply, +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick, +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” + +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. + +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, +And sighing next in woeful accent spake: +“What then of me requirest?” If to know +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d, +And of a she-bear was indeed the son, +So eager to advance my whelps, that there +My having in my purse above I stow’d, +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes, +For whom I took thee, when so hastily +I question’d. But already longer time +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand +Planted with fiery feet. For after him, +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive, +From forth the west, a shepherd without law, +Fated to cover both his form and mine. +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom +In Maccabees we read; and favour such +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d, +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” + +I know not if I here too far presum’d, +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now, +What treasures from St. Peter at the first +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest +Or gold or silver of Matthias took, +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then; +Thy punishment of right is merited: +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin, +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d. +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not, +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet +Severer speech might use. Your avarice +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot +Treading the good, and raising bad men up. +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves, +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld, +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth, +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew, +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight. +Of gold and silver ye have made your god, +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater, +But he that worships one, a hundred ye? +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth, +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower, +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” + +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang +Spinning on either sole. I do believe +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. + +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close, +Till to the summit of the rock we came, +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier. +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. + +Thence to my view another vale appear’d + + + + +CANTO XX + + +And now the verse proceeds to torments new, +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain +Of the first song, whose awful theme records +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d +Into the depth, that open’d to my view, +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, +In silence weeping: such their step as walk +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. + +As on them more direct mine eye descends, +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance +Was from the reins averted: and because +None might before him look, they were compell’d +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d, +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. + +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld +Near me our form distorted in such guise, +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d: +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest? +Here pity most doth show herself alive, +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives? +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest? +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less +Fell ruining far as to Minos down, +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks, +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. + +“Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes. +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white, +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath, +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. + +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d +Through many regions, and at length her seat +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space +My words detain thy audience. When her sire +From life departed, and in servitude +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d, +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world. +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in, +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, +Methinks, and more, water between the vale +Camonica and Garda and the height +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot +At midway of that lake, where he who bears +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each +Passing that way his benediction give. +A garrison of goodly site and strong +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last +Reaching Governo into Po he falls. +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh +It covers, pestilent in summer oft. +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw +’Midst of the fen a territory waste +And naked of inhabitants. To shun +All human converse, here she with her slaves +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake, +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, +Nor ask’d another omen for the name, +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear +Henceforth another origin assign’d +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” + +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words +So certain, that all else shall be to me +As embers lacking life. But now of these, +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see +Any that merit more especial note. +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” + +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, +In which majestic measure well thou know’st, +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. + +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, +Who now were willing, he had tended still +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. + +“See next the wretches, who the needle left, +The shuttle and the spindle, and became +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought +With images and herbs. But onward now: +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine +On either hemisphere, touching the wave +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: +For she good service did thee in the gloom +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, +The which my drama cares not to rehearse, +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood +To view another gap, within the round +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. + +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. + +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while +His bark one builds anew, another stops +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent +So not by force of fire but art divine +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld, +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge, +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one, +Impatient to behold that which beheld +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, +That he his flight delays not for the view. +Behind me I discern’d a devil black, +That running, up advanc’d along the rock. +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake! +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread! +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. + +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends! +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more. +That land hath store of such. All men are there, +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’ +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” + +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d, +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank +And forthwith writing to the surface rose. +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave. +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said, +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here; +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.” +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. + +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry, +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not: +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier, +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. + +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d +Those from beneath the arch, and against him +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, +Who having heard my words, decide he then +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud, +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d, +The others standing firm, and as he came, +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. + +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,” +My teacher answered, “without will divine +And destiny propitious? Pass we then +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead +Another through this savage wilderness.” + +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop +The instrument of torture at his feet, +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou! +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” + +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d +Lest they should break the compact they had made. +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. + +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes +With fixt and motionless observance bent +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks +Protruding, one the other thus bespake: +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” + +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide, +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake: +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us +He added: “Further footing to your step +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, +Up by this cavern go: not distant far, +Another rock will yield you passage safe. +Yesterday, later by five hours than now, +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d +The circuit of their course, since here the way +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy +If any on the surface bask. With them +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell. +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried, +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou! +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead. +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste, +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, +In safety lead them, where the other crag +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” + +I then: “O master! what a sight is there! +Ah! without escort, journey we alone, +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not. +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied: +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, +Gnarl on: ’tis but in token of their spite +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” + +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue, +Toward their leader for a signal looking, +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +It hath been heretofore my chance to see +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp, +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d, +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight; +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen, +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts, +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells, +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights, +And with inventions multiform, our own, +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er +To such a strange recorder I beheld, +In evolution moving, horse nor foot, +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. + +With the ten demons on our way we went; +Ah fearful company! but in the church +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. + +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign +To mariners, heave high their arched backs, +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals, +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d, +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. + +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out, +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus, +As it befalls that oft one frog remains, +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan, +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up, +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each +Already by their names I knew, so well +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant! +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,” +Shouted together all the cursed crew. + +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may, +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue, +For she had borne me to a losel vile, +A spendthrift of his substance and himself. +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d, +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d, +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” + +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk +Issued on either side, as from a boar, +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried, +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart, +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.” +Then added, turning to my guide his face, +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn, +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus: +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt; +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied, +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence; +So were I under shelter now with him! +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. + +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried, +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm, +And mangled bore away the sinewy part. +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief, +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d, +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d: +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— + +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d, +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile, +Who had his master’s enemies in hand, +And us’d them so that they commend him well. +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d. +So he reports: and in each other charge +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold +That other, how he grins! More would I say, +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” + +Their captain then to Farfarello turning, +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike, +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— + +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear. +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury, +So that no vengeance they may fear from them, +And I, remaining in this self-same place, +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear, +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so +Our custom is to call each other up.” + +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d, +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device, +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” + +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store +Of nice-wove toils; “ Mischief forsooth extreme, +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” + +No longer Alichino then refrain’d, +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake: +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let +The bank be as a shield, that we may see +If singly thou prevail against us all.” + +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! + +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore, +He first, who was the hardest to persuade. +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time, +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap +Escaping disappointed their resolve. + +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” + +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath, +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast: +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d; +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d. +They, to their post on each side speedily +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends, +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars: +And we departing left them to that broil. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +In silence and in solitude we went, +One first, the other following his steps, +As minor friars journeying on their road. + +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell. +For language hath not sounds more like in sense, +Than are these chances, if the origin +And end of each be heedfully compar’d. +And as one thought bursts from another forth, +So afterward from that another sprang, +Which added doubly to my former fear. +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete, +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” + +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. + +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread +Those evil talons. Even now behind +They urge us: quick imagination works +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” + +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass, +I should not sooner draw unto myself +Thy outward image, than I now imprint +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts +Presented before mine, with similar act +And count’nance similar, so that from both +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast +Incline so much, that we may thence descend +Into the other chasm, we shall escape +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” + +He had not spoke his purpose to the end, +When I from far beheld them with spread wings +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him +Than of herself, that but a single vest +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock, +Which closes on one part the other chasm. + +Never ran water with such hurrying pace +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel, +When nearest it approaches to the spokes, +As then along that edge my master ran, +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child, +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath, +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear +In him was none; for that high Providence, +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss, +Power of departing thence took from them all. + +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept, +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil. +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, +But leaden all within, and of such weight, +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw. +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! + +We yet once more with them together turn’d +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent. +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came +The fainting people, that our company +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. + +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known, +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” + +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice, +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet, +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air. +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” + +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake: +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” + +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d +To overtake me; but the load they bare +And narrow path retarded their approach. + +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each +To other thus conferring said: “This one +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive. +And, be they dead, what privilege allows +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” + +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest +The college of the mourning hypocrites, +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” + +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied, +“In the great city I was bred and grew, +And wear the body I have ever worn. +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief, +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks? +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?” +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,” +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross, +That with their weight they make the balances +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I, +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land +Together taken, as men used to take +A single and indifferent arbiter, +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped, +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” + +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—” But there brake off, for one had +caught my eye, +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground: +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware, +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man +To suffer for the people. He doth lie +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs. +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d +The father of his consort, and the rest +Partakers in that council, seed of ill +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then, +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him, +Thus abjectly extended on the cross +In banishment eternal. To the friar +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell, +If so be lawful, whether on our right +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby +We both may issue hence, without constraint +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied: +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount: +For on the side it slants, and most the height +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill, +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” + +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst +I many vices of the devil heard, +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar, +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke, +My leader with large strides proceeded on, +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. + +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden, +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn, +And now towards equal day the nights recede, +When as the rime upon the earth puts on +Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long +Her milder sway endures, then riseth up +The village hind, whom fails his wintry store, +And looking out beholds the plain around +All whiten’d, whence impatiently he smites +His thighs, and to his hut returning in, +There paces to and fro, wailing his lot, +As a discomfited and helpless man; +Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope +Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon +The world hath chang’d its count’nance, grasps his crook, +And forth to pasture drives his little flock: +So me my guide dishearten’d when I saw +His troubled forehead, and so speedily +That ill was cur’d; for at the fallen bridge +Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet, +He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld +At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well +The ruin, and some counsel first maintain’d +With his own thought, he open’d wide his arm +And took me up. As one, who, while he works, +Computes his labour’s issue, that he seems +Still to foresee the’ effect, so lifting me +Up to the summit of one peak, he fix’d +His eye upon another. “Grapple that,” +Said he, “but first make proof, if it be such +As will sustain thee.” For one capp’d with lead +This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light, +And I, though onward push’d from crag to crag, +Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast +Were not less ample than the last, for him +I know not, but my strength had surely fail’d. +But Malebolge all toward the mouth +Inclining of the nethermost abyss, +The site of every valley hence requires, +That one side upward slope, the other fall. + +At length the point of our descent we reach’d +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d, +So was the breath exhausted from my lungs, +I could no further, but did seat me there. + +“Now needs thy best of man;” so spake my guide: +“For not on downy plumes, nor under shade +Of canopy reposing, fame is won, +Without which whosoe’er consumes his days +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth, +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. +Thou therefore rise: vanish thy weariness +By the mind’s effort, in each struggle form’d +To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight +Of her corporeal frame to crush her down. +A longer ladder yet remains to scale. +From these to have escap’d sufficeth not. +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” + +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent +Than I in truth did feel me. “On,” I cried, +“For I am stout and fearless.” Up the rock +Our way we held, more rugged than before, +Narrower and steeper far to climb. From talk +I ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill. +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, +What were the words I knew not, but who spake +Seem’d mov’d in anger. Down I stoop’d to look, +But my quick eye might reach not to the depth +For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake: +“To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps, +And from the wall dismount we; for as hence +I hear and understand not, so I see +Beneath, and naught discern.”—“I answer not,” +Said he, “but by the deed. To fair request +Silent performance maketh best return.” + +We from the bridge’s head descended, where +To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm +Opening to view, I saw a crowd within +Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape +And hideous, that remembrance in my veins +Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands +Let Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’d, +Not with all Ethiopia, and whate’er +Above the Erythraean sea is spawn’d. + +Amid this dread exuberance of woe +Ran naked spirits wing’d with horrid fear, +Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide, +Or heliotrope to charm them out of view. +With serpents were their hands behind them bound, +Which through their reins infix’d the tail and head +Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one +Near to our side, darted an adder up, +And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied, +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth. +When there dissolv’d he lay, the dust again +Uproll’d spontaneous, and the self-same form +Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell, +The’ Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years +Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith +Renascent. Blade nor herb throughout his life +He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone +And odorous amomum: swaths of nard +And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls, +He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg’d +To earth, or through obstruction fettering up +In chains invisible the powers of man, +Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around, +Bewilder’d with the monstrous agony +He hath endur’d, and wildly staring sighs; +So stood aghast the sinner when he rose. + +Oh! how severe God’s judgment, that deals out +Such blows in stormy vengeance! Who he was +My teacher next inquir’d, and thus in few +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d, +Not long since rained down from Tuscany +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was, +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” + +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence, +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” + +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me +His mind directing and his face, wherein +Was dismal shame depictur’d, thus he spake: +“It grieves me more to have been caught by thee +In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than +When I was taken from the other life. +I have no power permitted to deny +What thou inquirest.” I am doom’d thus low +To dwell, for that the sacristy by me +Was rifled of its goodly ornaments, +And with the guilt another falsely charged. +But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus, +So as thou e’er shalt ’scape this darksome realm +Open thine ears and hear what I forebode. +Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines, +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws. +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars, +A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists, +And sharp and eager driveth on the storm +With arrowy hurtling o’er Piceno’s field, +Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike +Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground. +This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart.” + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God! +I level them at thee!” From that day forth +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck +One of then rolling twisted, as it said, +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself +So close, it took from them the power to move. + +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth +No longer, since in evil act so far +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark, +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss, +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God, +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled, +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins. +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide: +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread +A different journey, for his fraudful theft +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” + +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away: +And under us three spirits came, of whom +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d; +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse, +Intent on these alone. I knew them not; +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he, +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell, +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him: +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own. +Then, as they both had been of burning wax, +Each melted into other, mingling hues, +That which was either now was seen no more. +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns, +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black, +And the clean white expires. The other two +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change, +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, +Nor only one.” The two heads now became +One, and two figures blended in one form +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d, +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, +So toward th’ entrails of the other two +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire, +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart. +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first, +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d, +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d. +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him. +One from the wound, the other from the mouth +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. + +Lucan in mute attention now may hear, +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. +What if in warbling fiction he record +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear, +I envy not; for never face to face +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing, +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon +Was visible: the tail disparted took +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind. +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk. +The feet behind then twisting up became +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke +With a new colour veils, and generates +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet +One upright rose, and prone the other fell. +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath. +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face +Retreated towards the temples, and what there +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d, +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d +Into due size protuberant the lips. +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns. +His tongue continuous before and apt +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid. +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off, +Hissing along the vale, and after him +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few +Thus to another spake: “Along this path +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” + +So saw I fluctuate in successive change +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold: +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. + +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou, +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +Florence exult! for thou so mightily +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell! +Among the plund’rers such the three I found +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. + +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest) +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance +Were in good time, if it befell thee now. +Would so it were, since it must needs befall! +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. + +We from the depth departed; and my guide +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep. +Pursuing thus our solitary way +Among the crags and splinters of the rock, +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. + +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives, +As my thought turns again to what I saw, +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb +The powers of nature in me, lest they run +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good +My gentle star, or something better gave me, +I envy not myself the precious boon. + +As in that season, when the sun least veils +His face that lightens all, what time the fly +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale, +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies: +With flames so numberless throughout its space +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile, +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d; +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame, +A sinner so enfolded close in each, +That none exhibits token of the theft. + +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look, +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n, +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark d +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy word,” +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d +Already of the truth, already wish’d +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within +Ulysses there and Diomede endure +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath. +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide +A portal for that goodly seed to pass, +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft +Deidamia yet in death complains. +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I, +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive. +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” + +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, +And I accept it therefore: but do thou +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine, +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance, +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” + +When there the flame had come, where time and place +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began: +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire! +If living I of you did merit aught, +Whate’er the measure were of that desert, +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d, +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” + +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire +That labours with the wind, then to and fro +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d +From Circe, who beyond a circling year +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms, +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore, +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence +Of my old father, nor return of love, +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy, +Could overcome in me the zeal I had +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life, +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d +Into the deep illimitable main, +With but one bark, and the small faithful band +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far, +Far as Morocco either shore I saw, +And the Sardinian and each isle beside +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age +Were I and my companions, when we came +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man. +The walls of Seville to my right I left, +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past. +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west +Through perils without number now have reach’d, +To this the short remaining watch, that yet +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof +Of the unpeopled world, following the track +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang: +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high. +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage +The mind of my associates, that I then +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left. +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld, +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight, +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed: +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” + + + + +CANTO XXVII + + +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d, +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. + +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould, +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found +Nor avenue immediate through the flame, +Into its language turn’d the dismal words: +But soon as they had won their passage forth, +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard: +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice! +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, + +Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,’ +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile, +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall +into this blind world, from that pleasant land +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height, +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” + +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear, +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus: +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply +Was ready, and I spake without delay: + +“O spirit! who art hidden here below! +Never was thy Romagna without war +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now: +But open war there left I none. The state, +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year, +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods, +And in his broad circumference of plume +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. + +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young, +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make, +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. + +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range +Under the lion of the snowy lair. +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides, +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost. +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave, +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies, +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. + +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou? +Be not more hard than others. In the world, +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” + +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last: +“If I did think, my answer were to one, +Who ever could return unto the world, +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er, +If true be told me, any from this depth +Has found his upward way, I answer thee, +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. + +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on, +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin. +And how and wherefore listen while I tell. +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake +The nature of the lion than the fox. +All ways of winding subtlety I knew, +And with such art conducted, that the sound +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part +Of life I found me come, when each behoves +To lower sails and gather in the lines; +That which before had pleased me then I rued, +And to repentance and confession turn’d; +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me! +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime, +Waging his warfare near the Lateran, +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes +All Christians were, nor against Acre one +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land), +He his great charge nor sacred ministry +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord, +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded. +As in Socrate, Constantine besought +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid, +So me to cure the fever of his pride +This man besought: my counsel to that end +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d: +“From thy heart banish fear: of all offence +I hitherto absolve thee. In return, +Teach me my purpose so to execute, +That Penestrino cumber earth no more. +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut +And open: and the keys are therefore twain, +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.” + +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d, +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, +Large promise with performance scant, be sure, +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” + +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark +He met, who cried: “‘Wrong me not; he is mine, +And must below to join the wretched crew, +For the deceitful counsel which he gave. +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair, +No power can the impenitent absolve; +Nor to repent and will at once consist, +By contradiction absolute forbid.” +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not +A disputant in logic so exact.” +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail, +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake: +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire +Must vanish.’ Hence perdition-doom’d I rove +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” + +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame +In dolour parted, beating to and fro, +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, +I and my leader, up along the rock, +Far as another arch, that overhangs +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid +Of those, who load them with committed sin. + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + + +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought +Both impotent alike. If in one band +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood, +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war +When of the rings the measur’d booty made +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel, +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet +At Ceperano, there where treachery +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs +One were to show transpierc’d, another his +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay +Open to view, and wretched ventricle, +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. + +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare, +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo! +How is Mohammed mangled! before me +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again +Each of this ream, when we have compast round +The dismal way, for first our gashes close +Ere we repass before him. But say who +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, +Haply so lingering to delay the pain +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not yet,” +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make +Full trial of your state, I who am dead +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb, +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” + +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed, +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not +Here soon to follow me, that with good store +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power, +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade, +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said ‘he, “whom sin +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind +Piero of Medicina, if again +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; +And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, +That if ’tis giv’n us here to scan aright +The future, they out of life’s tenement +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen +An injury so foul, by pirates done +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end, +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: + +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above +May carry tidings of thee, who is he, +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” + +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of; +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind, +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d +Was ever harmful. “Oh how terrified +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d, +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” + +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” + +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off, +As one grief stung to madness. But I there +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw +Things, such as I may fear without more proof +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, +A headless trunk, that even as the rest +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said, +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself, +And two there were in one, and one in two. +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. + +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood, +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st +To spy the dead; behold if any else +Be terrible as this. And that on earth +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John +The counsel mischievous. Father and son +I set at mutual war. For Absalom +And David more did not Ahitophel, +Spurring them on maliciously to strife. +For parting those so closely knit, my brain +Parted, alas! I carry from its source, +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +So were mine eyes inebriate with view +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. + +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on? +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below +Among the maim’d and miserable shades? +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them +That two and twenty miles the valley winds +Its circuit, and already is the moon +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” + +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the cause +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him, +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem, +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken, +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood, +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” + +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d! +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I, +“By any, who are partners in his shame, +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think, +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” + +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d +The other valley, had more light been there, +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. + +As were the torment, if each lazar-house +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time +’Twixt July and September, with the isle +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen, +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss +Together; such was here the torment: dire +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. + +We on the utmost shore of the long rock +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein +The minister of the most mighty Lord, +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment +The forgers noted on her dread record. + +More rueful was it not methinks to see +The nation in Aegina droop, what time +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm, +All fell, so full of malice was the air +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told, +The ancient people were restor’d anew +From seed of emmets) than was here to see +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay, +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step +We journey’d on, in silence looking round +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot, +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord +Impatient waited, or himself perchance +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. + +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one, +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, +Tell me if any born of Latian land +Be among these within: so may thy nails +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” + +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied, +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide: +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives, +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” + +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” + +And I therewith began: “So may no time +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men +In th’ upper world, but after many suns +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are, +And of what race ye come. Your punishment, +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind, +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” + +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one, +“And me Albero of Sienna brought +To die by fire; but that, for which I died, +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him, +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air. +And he admiring much, as he was void +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him +The secret of mine art: and only hence, +Because I made him not a Daedalus, +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me. +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth, +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” + +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” + +The other leprous spirit heard my words, +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo +Who first the spice’s costly luxury +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know +Who seconds thee against the Siennese +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight, +That well my face may answer to thy ken; +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost, +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right, +Thus needs must well remember how I aped +Creative nature by my subtle art.” + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast +For Semele against the Theban blood, +As more than once in dire mischance was rued, +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas, +That he his spouse beholding with a babe +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried, +“The meshes, that I take the lioness +And the young lions at the pass: “then forth +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one, +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d, +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock, +And with her other burden self-destroy’d +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height, +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba, +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son, +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense +Did she run barking even as a dog; +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast, +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio, +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs, +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape, +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake; +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” + +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope, +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee, +Be patient to inform us, who it is, +Ere it speed hence.”—” That is the ancient soul +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d +With most unholy flame for her own sire, +And a false shape assuming, so perform’d +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there, +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament +The seal affixing, that himself might gain, +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” + +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view +The other cursed spirits. One I saw +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part. +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought, +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. + +“O ye, who in this world of misery, +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,” +Thus he began, “attentively regard +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted; +One drop of water now, alas! I crave. +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream, +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain; +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up, +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place, +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me, +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs. +There is Romena, where I falsified +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest, +For which on earth I left my body burnt. +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within, +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that? +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light, +That I each hundred years might move one inch, +I had set forth already on this path, +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew, +Although eleven miles it wind, not more +Than half of one across. They brought me down +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d +The florens with three carats of alloy.” + +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d, +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,” +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween, +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth; +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy. +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out, +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard, +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d, +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch, +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. + +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm +At liberty for such employ.” To whom +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire, +Thou hadst it not so ready at command, +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” + +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true. +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony, +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” + +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,” +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault, +And thou for more than any imp beside.” + +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one, +The horse remember, that did teem with death, +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” + +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the thirst +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes, +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus: +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails, +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d, +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” + +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more. +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, +And that which is, desires as if it were not, +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. + +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,” +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held, +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d, +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard, +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. + +Turning our back upon the vale of woe, +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made +The thunder feeble. Following its course +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent +On that one spot. So terrible a blast +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space +Of intervening darkness has thine eye +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” + +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance, +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d, +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” + +As when a fog disperseth gradually, +Our vision traces what the mist involves +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled, +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss, +Was turreted with giants, half their length +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. + +Of one already I descried the face, +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. + +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand +Left framing of these monsters, did display +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale, +Who ponders well confesses her therein +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force +And evil will are back’d with subtlety, +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones +Of like proportion, so that from above +The bank, which girdled him below, such height +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair. +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d +Downward from whence a man his garments loops. +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,” +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus: +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake: +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste +Our words; for so each language is to him, +As his to others, understood by none.” + +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, +And at a sling’s throw found another shade +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say +What master hand had girt him; but he held +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him +From the neck down, and five times round his form +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one +Would of his strength against almighty Jove +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. +Great was his prowess, when the giants brought +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d: +“Fain would I, if ’twere possible, mine eyes +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base, +As Ephialtes. More than ever then +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. + +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side, +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. +He in the upper world can yet bestow +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks +For life yet longer, if before the time +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands, +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up, +That we were both one burden. As appears +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud +So sail across, that opposite it hangs, +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss, +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, +I,ightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d, +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth +Of all the universe, is no emprize +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d +To infant babbling. But let them assist +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk, +Beyond all others wretched! who abide +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words +To speak of, better had ye here on earth +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet, +But lower far than they, and I did gaze +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d, +And saw before and underneath my feet +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n, +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood, +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork. +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. + +A space I look’d around, then at my feet +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye, +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I, +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent, +And when their looks were lifted up to me, +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. + +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves. +They from one body issued; and throughout +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d, +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia, +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short +All further question, in my form behold +What once was Camiccione. I await +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on +Toward the middle, at whose point unites +All heavy substance, and I trembling went +Through that eternal chillness, I know not +If will it were or destiny, or chance, +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike +With violent blow against the face of one. + +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d, +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” + +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here, +That I through him may rid me of my doubt. +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d, +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak, +That railest thus on others?” He replied: +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks +Through Antenora roamest, with such force +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” + +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,” +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee, +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” + +“The contrary of what I covet most,” +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more. +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” + +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” + +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that +I will not tell nor show thee who I am, +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” + +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes +Drawn in and downward, when another cried, +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright? +What devil wrings thee?”—” Now,” said I, “be dumb, +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee +True tidings will I bear.”—” Off,” he replied, +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold. +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d, +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d +What other shade was with them, at thy side +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” + +We now had left him, passing on our way, +When I beheld two spirits by the ice +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain, +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d, +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. + +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I +“The cause, on such condition, that if right +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, +And what the colour of his sinning was, +I may repay thee in the world above, +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast, +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head, +Which he behind had mangled, then began: +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words, +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear +Fruit of eternal infamy to him, +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be +I know not, nor how here below art come: +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en +And after murder’d, need is not I tell. +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate +Within that mew, which for my sake the name +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, +Already through its opening sev’ral moons +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, +That from the future tore the curtain off. +This one, methought, as master of the sport, +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. +After short course the father and the sons +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow? +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word +I look’d upon the visage of my sons. +I wept not: so all stone I felt within. +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day +Nor the next night, until another sun +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam +Had to our doleful prison made its way, +And in four countenances I descry’d +The image of my own, on either hand +Through agony I bit, and they who thought +I did it through desire of feeding, rose +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, +And do thou strip them off from us again.’ +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth! +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help +For me, my father!’ “There he died, and e’en +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth: +Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope +Over them all, and for three days aloud +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke, +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame +Of all the people, who their dwelling make +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack +To punish, from their deep foundations rise +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee +May perish in the waters! What if fame +Reported that thy castles were betray’d +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou +To stretch his children on the rack. For them, +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d, +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d + +There very weeping suffers not to weep; +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds +Impediment, and rolling inward turns +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show, +Under the socket brimming all the cup. + +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d +Each feeling, as ’twere callous, yet me seem’d +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,” +Said I, “my master? Is not here below +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be speedily,” +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” + +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d: +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief +Impregnate at my heart, some little space +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied: +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; +And if I extricate thee not, far down +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” + +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he, +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I exclaim’d, +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he, +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d. +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes, +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, +As I did, yields her body to a fiend +Who after moves and governs it at will, +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st, +If thou but newly art arriv’d below. +The years are many that have pass’d away, +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” + +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me, +For Branca Doria never yet hath died, +But doth all natural functions of a man, +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” + +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d, +When this one left a demon in his stead +In his own body, and of one his kin, +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not. +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. + +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found, +As for his doings even now in soul +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem +In body still alive upon the earth. + + + + +CANTO XXXIV + + +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide, +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, + +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. + +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain +Record the marvel) where the souls were all +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, +Others stood upright, this upon the soles, +That on his head, a third with face to feet +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came, +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see +The creature eminent in beauty once, +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. + +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place, +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” + +How frozen and how faint I then became, +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself +If quick conception work in thee at all, +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like +A giant, than the giants are in his arms. +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits +With such a part. If he were beautiful +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight! +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy +Upon his head three faces: one in front +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest; +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth +Two mighty wings, enormous as became +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they, +But were in texture like a bat, and these +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam. +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three +Were in this guise tormented. But far more +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit, +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide, +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two, +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” + +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade; +And noting time and place, he, when the wings +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides, +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. + +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, +My leader there with pain and struggling hard +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before, +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, +That into hell methought we turn’d again. + +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake +The teacher, panting like a man forespent, +“We must depart from evil so extreme.” +Then at a rocky opening issued forth, +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes, +Believing that I Lucifer should see +Where he was lately left, but saw him now +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d, +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. + +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet. +“The way is long, and much uncouth the road; +And now within one hour and half of noon +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, +But natural dungeon where ill footing was +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began, +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice? +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d? +And how from eve to morn in space so brief +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d +Under the hemisphere opposed to that, +Which the great continent doth overspread, +And underneath whose canopy expir’d +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d. +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d, +As at the first. On this part he fell down +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before, +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance +To shun him was the vacant space left here +By what of firm land on this side appears, +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath, +From Belzebub as distant, as extends +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight, +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends +This way along the hollow of a rock, +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way +My guide and I did enter, to return +To the fair world: and heedless of repose +We climbed, he first, I following his steps, +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n +Dawn, through a circular opening in the cave: +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. + + + + +NOTES TO HELL + +CANTO I + + +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. + +v. 16. That planet’s beam.] The sun. + +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. + +v. 30. A panther.] Pleasure or luxury. + +v. 36. With those stars.] The sun was in Aries, in which sign he +supposes it to have begun its course at the creation. + +v. 43. A lion.] Pride or ambition. + +v. 45. A she wolf.] Avarice. + +v. 56. Where the sun in silence rests.] Hence Milton appears to have +taken his idea in the Samson Agonistes: + + The sun to me is dark + + And silent as the moon, &c +The same metaphor will recur, Canto V. v. 29. + + Into a place I came + + Where light was silent all. + +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.” + +v. 98. That greyhound.] This passage is intended as an eulogium on the +liberal spirit of his Veronese patron Can Grande della Scala. + +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. + +v. 103. Italia’s plains.] “Umile Italia,” from Virgil, Aen lib. +iii. 522. + + Humilemque videmus + + Italiam. + +v. 115. Content in fire.] The spirits in Purgatory. + +v. 118. A spirit worthier.] Beatrice, who conducts the Poet through +Paradise. + +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. + +CANTO II + + +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 + +v. 8. O mind.] + + O thought that write all that I met, + + And in the tresorie it set + + Of my braine, now shall men see + + If any virtue in thee be. + + Chaucer. Temple of Fame, b. ii. v.18 + +v. 14. Silvius’sire.] Aeneas. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 64. Who rest suspended.] The spirits in Limbo, neither admitted to a +state of glory nor doomed to punishment. + +v. 61. A friend not of my fortune, but myself.] Se non fortunae sed +hominibus solere esse amicum. Cornelii Nepotis Attici Vitae, c. ix. + +v. 78. Whatever is contain’d.] Every other thing comprised within the +lunar heaven, which, being the lowest of all, has the smallest circle. + +v. 93. A blessed dame.] The divine mercy. + +v. 97. Lucia.] The enlightening grace of heaven. + +v. 124. Three maids.] The divine mercy, Lucia, and Beatrice. + +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. + +CANTO III + + +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. + +v. 29. Like to the sand.] + + Unnumber’d as the sands + + Of Barca or Cyrene’s torrid soil + + Levied to side with warring winds, and poise + + Their lighter wings. + + Milton, P. L. ii. 908. + +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. + +v. 50. A flag.] + + All the grisly legions that troop + + Under the sooty flag of Acheron + + Milton. Comus. + +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. + +v. 70. through the blear light.] + + Lo fioco lume +So Filicaja, canz. vi. st. 12. + + Qual fioco lume. + +v. 77. An old man.] + + Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat + + Terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento + + Canities inculta jacet; stant lumina flamma. + + Virg. 7. Aen. Iib. vi. 2. + +v. 82. In fierce heat and in ice.] + + The delighted spirit + + To bathe in fiery floods or to reside + + In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice. + + Shakesp. Measure for Measure, a. iii.s.1. +Compare Milton, P. L. b. ii. 600. + +v. 92. The livid lake.] Vada livida. + + Virg. Aen. Iib. vi. 320 + + Totius ut Lacus putidaeque paludis + + Lividissima, maximeque est profunda vorago. + + Catullus. xviii. 10. + +v. 102. With eyes of burning coal.] + + His looks were dreadful, and his fiery eyes + + Like two great beacons glared bright and wide. + + Spenser. F.Q. b. vi. c. vii.st. 42 + +v. 104. As fall off the light of autumnal leaves.] + + Quam multa in silvis autumul frigore primo + + Lapsa cadunt folia. + + Virg. Aen. lib. vi. 309 +Compare Apoll. Rhod. lib. iv. 214. + +CANTO IV + + +v. 8. A thund’rous sound.] Imitated, as Mr. Thyer has remarked, +by Milton, P. L. b. viii. 242. + + But long ere our approaching heard + + Noise, other, than the sound of dance or song + + Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. + +v. 50. a puissant one.] Our Saviour. + +v. 75. Honour the bard + + Sublime.] + + Onorate l’altissimo poeta. +So Chiabrera, Canz. Eroiche. 32. + + Onorando l’altissimo poeta. + +v. 79. Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.] + + She nas to sober ne to glad. + + Chaucer’s Dream. + +v. 90. The Monarch of sublimest song.] Homer. + +v. 100. Fitter left untold.] + + Che’l tacere e bello, +So our Poet, in Canzone 14. + + La vide in parte che’l tacere e bello, +Ruccellai, Le Api, 789. + + Ch’a dire e brutto ed a tacerlo e bello +And Bembo, + + “Vie pui bello e il tacerle, che il favellarne.” + + Gli. Asol. lib. 1. + +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. + +v. 125. Julia.] The daughter of Julius Caesar, and wife of Pompey. + +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 + +v. 128. The master of the sapient throng.] + + Maestro di color che sanno. +Aristotle—Petrarch assigns the first place to Plato. See Triumph +of Fame, c. iii. +Pulci, in his Morgante Maggiore, c. xviii. says, + + Tu se’il maestro di color che sanno. + +v. 132. Democritus Who sets the world at chance.] Democritus,who +maintained the world to have been formed by the fortuitous concourse of +atoms. + +v. 140. Avicen.] See D’Herbelot Bibl. Orient. article Sina. He died in +1050. Pulci here again imitates our poet: + + Avicenna quel che il sentimento + + Intese di Aristotile e i segreti, + + Averrois che fece il gran comento. + + Morg. Mag. c. xxv. + +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. + +CANTO V + + +v. 5. Grinning with ghastly feature.] Hence Milton: + + Death + + Grinn’d horrible a ghastly smile. + + P. L. b. ii. 845. + +v. 46. As cranes.] This simile is imitated by Lorenzo de +Medici, in his Ambra, a poem, first published by Mr. Roscoe, in +the Appendix to his Life of Lorenzo. + + Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes + + Wheel their due flight in varied ranks descried: + + And each with outstretch’d neck his rank maintains + + In marshal’d order through th’ ethereal void. + + Roscoe, v. i. c. v. p. 257. 4to edit. +Compare Homer. Il. iii. 3. Virgil. Aeneid. 1 x. 264, and +Ruccellai, Le Api, 942, and Dante’s Purgatory, Canto XXIV. 63. + +v. 96. The land.] Ravenna. + +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. + +v. 102. Love, that denial takes from none belov’d.] + + Amor, ch’ a null’ amato amar perdona. +So Boccacio, in his Filocopo. l.1. + + Amore mal non perdono l’amore a nullo amato. +And Pulci, in the Morgante Maggiore, c. iv. + + E perche amor mal volontier perdona, + + Che non sia al fin sempre amato chi ama. +Indeed many of the Italian poets have repeated this verse. + +v. 105. Caina.] The place to which murderers are doomed. + +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. + +v. 118. + + No greater grief than to remember days + + Of joy,xwhen mis’ry is at hand!] +Imitated by Marino: + + Che non ha doglia il misero maggiore + + Che ricordar la giola entro il dolore. + + Adone, c. xiv. st. 100 +And by Fortiguerra: + + Rimembrare il ben perduto + + Fa piu meschino lo presente stato. + + Ricciardetto, c. xi. st. 83. +The original perhaps was in Boetius de Consol. Philosoph. “In +omni adversitate fortunae infelicissimum genus est infortunii +fuisse felicem et non esse.” 1. 2. pr. 4 + +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. + +v. 128. At one point.] + + Questo quel punto fu, che sol mi vinse. + + Tasso, Il Torrismondo, a. i. s. 3. + +v. 136. And like a corpse fell to the ground ] + + E caddi, come corpo morto cade. +So Pulci: + + E cadde come morto in terra cade. +Morgante Maggoire, c. xxii + +CANTO VI + + +v. 1. My sense reviving.] + + Al tornar della mente, che si chiuse + + Dinanzi alla pieta de’ duo cognati. +Berni has made a sportive application of these lines, in his Orl. +Inn. l. iii. c. viii. st. 1. + +v. 21. That great worm.] So in Canto XXXIV Lucifer is called + + Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Ariosto has imitated Dante: + + Ch’ al gran verme infernal mette la briglia, + + E che di lui come a lei par dispone. + + Orl. Fur. c. xlvi. st. 76. + +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. + +v. 61. The divided city.] The city of Florence, divided into the +Bianchi and Neri factions. + +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. + +v. 66. The other.] The opposite parts of the Neri, at the head of which +was Corso Donati. + +v. 67. This must fall.] The Bianchi. + +v. 69. Of one, who under shore Now rests.] Charles of Valois, by whose +means the Neri were replaced. + +v. 73. The just are two in number.] Who these two were, the +commentators are not agreed. + +v. 79. Of Farinata and Tegghiaio.] See Canto X. and Notes, and Canto +XVI, and Notes. + +v. 80. Giacopo.] Giacopo Rusticucci. See Canto XVI, and Notes. + +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. + +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.” + +CANTO VII + + +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.” + +v. 12. The first adulterer proud.] Satan. + +v. 22. E’en as a billow.] + + As when two billows in the Irish sowndes + + Forcibly driven with contrarie tides + + Do meet together, each aback rebounds + + With roaring rage, and dashing on all sides, + + That filleth all the sea with foam, divides + + The doubtful current into divers waves. + + Spenser, F.Q. b. iv. c. 1. st. 42. + +v. 48. Popes and cardinals.] Ariosto, having personified +Avarice as a strange and hideous monster, says of her— + + Peggio facea nella Romana corte + + Che v’avea uccisi Cardinali e Papi. + + Orl. Fur. c. xxvi. st. 32. + + Worse did she in the court of Rome, for there + + She had slain Popes and Cardinals. + +v. 91. By necessity.] This sentiment called forth the reprehension of +Cecco d’Ascoli, in his Acerba, l. 1. c. i. + + In cio peccasti, O Fiorentin poeta, &c. + + Herein, O bard of Florence, didst thou err + + Laying it down that fortune’s largesses + + Are fated to their goal. Fortune is none, + + That reason cannot conquer. Mark thou, Dante, + + If any argument may gainsay this. + +CANTO VIII + + +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. + +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. + +v. 66. The city, that of Dis is nam’d.] So Ariosto. Orl. Fur. c. xl. +st. 32 + +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. + +v. 109. At war ’twixt will and will not.] Che si, e no nel capo mi +tenzona. So Boccaccio, Ninf. Fiesol. st. 233. + + Il si e il no nel capo gli contende. +The words I have adopted as a translation, are Shakespeare’s, +Measure for Measure. a. ii. s. 1. + +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.” + +CANTO IX + + +v. 1. The hue.] Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with fear, +restrained those outward tokens of displeasure which his own +countenance had betrayed. + +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. + +v. 25. No long space my flesh + + Was naked of me.] + + Quae corpus complexa animae tam fortis inane. + + Ovid. Met. l. xiii f. 2 +Dante appears to have fallen into a strange anachronism. Virgil’s +death did not happen till long after this period. + +v. 42. Adders and cerastes.] + + Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis. + + Virg. Aen. l. vi. 281. + + —spinaque vagi torquente cerastae + + . . . et torrida dipsas + + Et gravis in geminum vergens eaput amphisbaena. + + Lucan. Pharsal. l. ix. 719. +So Milton: + + Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire, + + Cerastes horn’d, hydrus and elops drear, + + And dipsas. + + P. L. b. x. 524. + +v. 67. A wind.] Imitated by Berni, Orl. Inn. l. 1. e. ii. st. 6. + +v. 83. With his wand.] + + She with her rod did softly smite the raile + + Which straight flew ope. + + Spenser. F. Q. b. iv. c. iii. st. 46. + +v. 96. What profits at the fays to but the horn.] “Of what avail can it +be to offer violence to impassive beings?” + +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. + +v. 111. The plains of Arles.] In Provence. See Ariosto, Orl. Fur. c. +xxxix. st. 72 + +v. 112. At Pola.] A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of Quarnaro, +in the Adriatic sea. + +CANTO X + + +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. + +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. + +v. 52. A shade.] The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble +Florentine, of the Guelph party. + +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. + +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. + +[GREEK HERE] + + +Atossa: Xerxes astonish’d, desolate, alone— +Ghost of Dar: How will this end? Nay, pause not. Is he safe? + + The Persians. Potter’s Translation. + +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” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 120. Frederick.] The Emperor Frederick the Second, who died in 1250. +See Notes to Canto XIII. + +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. + +v. 132. Her gracious beam.] Beatrice. + +CANTO XI + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 53. Cahors.] A city in Guienne, much frequented by usurers + +v. 83. Thy ethic page.] He refers to Aristotle’s Ethics. + +[GREEK HERE] + + +“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.” + +v. 104. Her laws.] Aristotle’s Physics. [GREEK HERE] “Art imitates +nature.” —See the Coltivazione of Alamanni, l. i. + +-I’arte umana, &c. + +v. 111. Creation’s holy book.] Genesis, c. iii. v. 19. “In the sweat of +thy face shalt thou eat bread.” + +v. 119. The wain.] The constellation Bootes, or Charles’s wain. + +CANTO XII + + +v. 17. The king of Athens.] Theseus, who was enabled, by the +instructions of Ariadne, the sister of the Minotaur, to destroy that +monster. + +v. 21. Like to a bull.] [GREEK HERE] Homer Il. xvii 522 + + As when some vig’rous youth with sharpen’d axe + + A pastur’d bullock smites behind the horns + + And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke + + Springs forth and falls. + + Cowper’s Translation. + +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. + +v. 96. Nessus.] Our poet was probably induced, by the following +line in Ovid, to assign to Nessus the task of conducting them +over the ford: + + Nessus edit membrisque valens scitusque vadorum. + + Metam, l. ix. +And Ovid’s authority was Sophocles, who says of this Centaur— +[GREEK HERE] Trach.570 + + He in his arms, Evenus’ stream + + Deep flowing, bore the passenger for hire + + Without or sail or billow cleaving oar. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 137. + + The Rinieri, of Corneto this, + + Pazzo the other named.] +Two noted marauders, by whose depredations the public ways in +Italy were infested. The latter was of the noble family of Pazzi +in Florence. + +CANTO XIII + + +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. + +v. 12. The Strophades.] See Virg. Aen. l. iii. 210. + +v. 14. Broad are their pennons.] From Virg. Aen. l. iii. 216. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 67. The harlot.] Envy. Chaucer alludes to this in the +Prologue to the Legende of Good women. + + Envie is lavender to the court alway, + + For she ne parteth neither night ne day + + Out of the house of Cesar; thus saith Dant. + +v. 119. Each fan o’ th’ wood.] Hence perhaps Milton: + + Leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan. + + P. L. b. v. 6. + +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. + +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. + +v. 152. I slung the fatal noose.] We are not informed who this suicide +was. + +CANTO XIV + + +v. 15. By Cato’s foot.] See Lucan, Phars, l. 9. + +v. 26. Dilated flakes of fire.] Compare Tasso. G. L. c. x. st. 61. + +v. 28. As, in the torrid Indian clime.] Landino refers to Albertus +Magnus for the circumstance here alluded to. + +v. 53. In Mongibello.] + + More hot than Aetn’ or flaming Mongibell. + + Spenser, F. Q. b. ii. c. ix. st. 29. +See Virg. Aen. 1. viii. 416. and Berni. Orl. Inn 1. i. c. xvi. +st. 21. It would be endless to refer to parallel passages in the +Greek writers. + +v. 64. This of the seven kings was one.] Compare Aesch. Seven Chiefs, +425. Euripides, Phoen. 1179 and Statius. Theb. l. x. 821. + +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. + +v. 91. Under whose monarch.] + + Credo pudicitiam Saturno rege moratam + + In terris. + + Juv. Satir. vi. + +v. 102. His head.] Daniel, ch. ii. 32, 33. + +v. 133. Whither.] On the other side of Purgatory. + +CANTO XV + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 89. With another text.] He refers to the prediction of Farinata, in +Canto X. + +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. + +v. 111. Francesco.] Son of Accorso, a Florentine, celebrated for his +skill in jurisprudence, and commonly known by the name of Accursius. + +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. + +v. 114. The servants’ servant.] Servo de’ servi. So Ariosto, +Sat. 3. + + Degli servi + + Io sia il gran servo. + +v. 124. I commend my Treasure to thee.] Brunetto’s great work, +the Tresor. +Sieti raccomandato ’l mio Tesoro. +So Giusto de’ Conti, in his Bella Mano, Son. “Occhi:” + + Siavi raccommandato il mio Tesoro. + +CANTO XVI + + +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. + +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 + +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. + +v. 39. Many a noble act.] Compare Tasso, G. L. c. i. st. 1. + +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. + +v. 45. Rusticucci.] Giacopo Rusticucci, a Florentine, remarkable for +his opulence and the generosity of his spirit. + +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. + +v. 84. When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past.] + + Quando ti giovera dicere io fui. +So Tasso, G. L. c. xv. st. 38. + + Quando mi giovera narrar altrui + + Le novita vedute, e dire; io fui. + +v. 121. Ever to that truth.] This memorable apophthegm is repeated by +Luigi Pulci and Trissino. + + Sempre a quel ver, ch’ ha faccia di menzogna + + E piu senno tacer la lingua cheta + + Che spesso senza colpa fa vergogna. + + Morgante. Magg. c. xxiv. + + La verita, che par mensogna + + Si dovrebbe tacer dall’ uom ch’e saggio. + + Italia. Lib. C. xvi. + +CANTO XVII + + +v. 1. The fell monster.] Fraud. + +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. + +v. 57. A yellow purse.] The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of Florence. + +v. 60. Another.] Those of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine family of +high distinction. + +v. 62. A fat and azure swine.] The arms of the Scrovigni a noble family +of Padua. + +v. 66. Vitaliano.] Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan. + +v. 69. That noble knight.] Giovanni Bujamonti, a Florentine usurer, the +most infamous of his time. + +CANTO XVIII + + +v. 28. With us beyond.] Beyond the middle point they tended the same +way with us, but their pace was quicker than ours. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 120. Alessio.] Alessio, of an ancient and considerable family in +Lucca, called the Interminei. + +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. + +CANTO XIX + + +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. + +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. + +v. 58. In guile.] “Thou didst presume to arrive by fraudulent means at +the papal power, and afterwards to abuse it.” + +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. + +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. + +v. 88. A new Jason.] See Maccabees, b. ii. c. iv. 7,8. + +v. 97. Nor Peter.] Acts of the Apostles, c.i. 26. + +v. 100. The condemned soul.] Judas. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Milton has translated both this passage and that in the text. +Prose works, vol. i. p. 11. ed. 1753. + +CANTO XX + + +v. 11. Revers’d.] Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. viii. st. 31 + +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. + + For thee, Amphiaraus, earth, + + By Jove’s all-riving thunder cleft + + Her mighty bosom open’d wide, + + Thee and thy plunging steeds to hide, + + Or ever on thy back the spear + + Of Periclymenus impress’d + + A wound to shame thy warlike breast + + For struck with panic fear + + The gods’ own children flee. + +v. 37. Tiresias.] + + Duo magnorum viridi coeuntia sylva + + Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu, &c. + + Ovid. Met. iii. + +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. + +“Like Aruns, who amidst the white marbles of Luni, contemplated the +celestial bodies and their motions.” + +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. + +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 + +v. 63. There is a spot.] Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of Trento, +Verona, and Brescia met. + +v. 69. Peschiera.] A garrison situated to the south of the lake, where +it empties itself and forms the Mincius. + +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 + +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. + +v. 111. So sings my tragic strain.] + + Suspensi Eurypilum scitatum oracula Phoebi + + Mittimus. + + Virg. Aeneid. ii. 14. + +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. + +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. + +Landino and Vellutello, speak of a book, which he composed on the +subject of his art. + +v. 116. Asdente.] A shoemaker at Parma, who deserted his business to +practice the arts of divination. + +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. + +CANTO XXI + + +v. 7. In the Venetians’ arsenal.] Compare Ruccellai, Le Api, 165, and +Dryden’s Annus Mirabilis, st. 146, &c. + +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. + +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. + +v. 48. Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.] + + Qui si nuota altrimenti che nel Serchio. +Serchio is the river that flows by Lucca. So Pulci, Morg. Mag. +c. xxiv. + + Qui si nuota nel sangue, e non nel Serchio. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO XXII + + +v. 16. In the church.] This proverb is repeated by Pulci, Morg. Magg. +c. xvii. + +v. 47. Born in Navarre’s domain.] The name of this peculator is said to +have been Ciampolo. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 88. Michel Zanche.] The president of Logodoro, another of the four +Sardinian jurisdictions. See Canto XXXIII. + +CANTO XXIII + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 117. That pierced spirit.] Caiaphas. + +v. 124. The father of his consort.] Annas, father-in-law to Caiaphas. + +v. 146. He is a liar.] John, c. viii. 44. Dante had perhaps heard this +text from one of the pulpits in Bologna. + +CANTO XXIV + + +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.” + +v. 51. Vanquish thy weariness.] + + Quin corpus onustum + + Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una, + + Atque affigit humi divinae particulam aurae. + + Hor. Sat. ii. l. ii. 78. + +v. 82. Of her sands.] Compare Lucan, Phars. l. ix. 703. + +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. + +In Chiabrera’s Ruggiero, Scaltrimento begs of Sofia, who is +sending him on a perilous errand, to lend him the heliotrope. + + In mia man fida + + L’elitropia, per cui possa involarmi + + Secondo il mio talento agli occhi altrui. + + c. vi. + + Trust to my hand the heliotrope, by which + + I may at will from others’ eyes conceal me +Compare Ariosto, II Negromante, a. 3. s. 3. Pulci, Morg. Magg. +c xxv. and Fortiguerra, Ricciardetto, c. x. st. 17. +Gower in his Confessio Amantis, lib. vii, enumerates it among the +jewels in the diadem of the sun. + + Jaspis and helitropius. + +v. 104. The Arabian phoenix.] This is translated from Ovid, +Metam. l. xv. + + Una est quae reparat, seque ipsa reseminat ales, +&c. +See also Petrarch, Canzone: + +“Qual piu,” &c. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Canto XXV + +v.1. The sinner ] So Trissino + + Poi facea con le man le fiche al cielo + + Dicendo: Togli, Iddio; che puoi piu farmi? + + L’ital. Lib. c. xii + +v. 12. Thy seed] Thy ancestry. + +v. 15. Not him] Capanaeus. Canto XIV. + +v. 18. On Marenna’s marsh.] An extensive tract near the sea-shore in +Tuscany. + +v. 24. Cacus.] Virgil, Aen. l. viii. 193. + +v. 31. A hundred blows.] Less than ten blows, out of the hundred +Hercules gave him, deprived him of feeling. + +v. 39. Cianfa] He is said to have been of the family of Donati at +Florence. + +v. 57. Thus up the shrinking paper.] + + —All my bowels crumble up to dust. + + I am a scribbled form, drawn up with a pen + + Upon a parchment; and against this fire + + Do I shrink up. + + Shakespeare, K. John, a. v. s. 7. + +v. 61. Agnello.] Agnello Brunelleschi + +v. 77. In that part.] The navel. + +v. 81. As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d.] + + O Rome! thy head + + Is drown’d in sleep, and all thy body fev’ry. + + Ben Jonson’s Catiline. + +v. 85. Lucan.] Phars. l. ix. 766 and 793. + +v. 87. Ovid.] Metam. l. iv. and v. + +v. 121. His sharpen’d visage.] Compare Milton, P. L. b. x. 511 &c. + +v. 131. Buoso.] He is said to have been of the Donati family. + +v. 138. Sciancato.] Puccio Sciancato, a noted robber, whose familly, +Venturi says, he has not been able to discover. + +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. + +CANTO XXVI + + +v. 7. But if our minds.] + + Namque sub Auroram, jam dormitante lucerna, + + Somnia quo cerni tempore vera solent. + + Ovid, Epist. xix + +The same poetical superstition is alluded to in the Purgatory, +Cant. IX. and XXVII. + +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. + +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. + +v. 35. as he, whose wrongs.] Kings, b. ii. c. ii. + +v. 54. ascending from that funeral pile.] The flame is said to +have divided on the funeral pile which consumed tile bodies of +Eteocles and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that +actuated them while living. + + Ecce iterum fratris, &c. + + Statius, Theb. l. xii. + + Ostendens confectas flamma, &c. + + Lucan, Pharsal. l. 1. 145. + +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.” + +v. 91. Caieta.] Virgil, Aeneid. l. vii. 1. + +v. 93. Nor fondness for my son] Imitated hp Tasso, G. L. c. +viii. + + Ne timor di fatica o di periglio, + + Ne vaghezza del regno, ne pietade + + Del vecchio genitor, si degno affetto + + Intiepedir nel generoso petto. +This imagined voyage of Ulysses into the Atlantic is alluded to +by Pulci. + + E sopratutto commendava Ulisse, + + Che per veder nell’ altro mondo gisse. + + Morg. Magg. c. xxv +And by Tasso, G. L. c. xv. 25. + +v. 106. The strait pass.] The straits of Gibraltar. + +v. 122. Made our oars wings.l So Chiabrera, Cant. Eroiche. xiii Faro +de’remi un volo. And Tasso Ibid. 26. + +v. 128. A mountain dim.] The mountain of Purgatorg + +CANTO XXVII. + + +v. 6. The Sicilian Bull.] The engine of torture invented by Perillus, +for the tyrant Phalaris. + +v. 26. Of the mountains there.] Montefeltro. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 44. Montagna.] Montagna de’Parcitati, a noble knight, and leader of +the Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by Malatestino. + +v. 46. Lamone’s city and Santerno’s.] Lamone is the river at Faenza, +and Santerno at Imola. + +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. + +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. + +v. 64. A man of arms.] Guido da Montefeltro. + +v. 68. The high priest.] Boniface VIII. + +v. 72. The nature of the lion than the fox.] Non furon leonine ma di +volpe. So Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xix. + + E furon le sua opre e le sue colpe + + Non creder leonine ma di volpe. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 101. My predecessor.] Celestine V. See Notes to Canto III. + +CANTO XXVIII. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 32. Ali.] The disciple of Mohammed. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 70. The pleasant land.] Lombardy. + +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. + +v. 85. Focara’s wind.] Focara is a mountain, from which a wind blows +that is peculiarly dangerous to the navigators of that coast. + +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. + +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. + +v. 111. The boon companion.] What stronger breastplate than a heart +untainted? Shakespeare, 2 Hen. VI. a. iii. s. 2. + +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. + +CANTO XXIX. + + +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. + +v. 44. As were the torment.] It is very probable that these +lines gave Milton the idea of his celebrated description: + + Immediately a place + + Before their eyes appear’d, sad, noisome, dark, + + A lasar-house it seem’d, wherein were laid + + Numbers of all diseas’d, all maladies, &c. + + P. L. b. xi. 477. + +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. + +v. 47. Maremma’s pestilent fen.] See Note to Canto XXV. v. 18. + +v. 58. In Aegina.] He alludes to the fable of the ants changed into +Myrmidons. Ovid, Met. 1. vii. + +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. + +v. 117. + + Was ever race + + Light as Sienna’s?] +The same imputation is again cast on the Siennese, Purg. Canto +XIII. 141. + +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.” + +v. 125. In that garden.] Sienna. + +v. 134. Cappocchio’s ghost.] Capocchio of Sienna, who is said to have +been a fellow-student of Dante’s in natural philosophy. + +CANTO XXX. + + +v. 4. Athamas.] From Ovid, Metam. 1. iv. Protinos Aelides, &c. + +v. 16. Hecuba. See Euripedes, Hecuba; and Ovid, Metnm. l. xiii. + +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.” + +v. 39. Myrrha.] See Ovid, Metam. l. x. + +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. + +v. 64. Casentino.] Romena is a part of Casentino. + +v. 77. Branda’s limpid spring.] A fountain in Sienna. + +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. + +v. 98. The false accuser.] Potiphar’s wife. + +CANTO XXXI. + + +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. + +In Chaucer’s Squier’s Tale, a sword of similar quality is +introduced: + + And other folk have wondred on the sweard, + + That could so piercen through every thing; + + And fell in speech of Telephus the king, + + And of Achillcs for his queint spere, + + For he couth with it both heale and dere. +So Shakspeare, Henry VI. p. ii. a. 5. s. 1. + + Whose smile and frown like to Achilles’ spear + + Is able with the change to kill and cure. + +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. + +v. 36. Montereggnon.] A castle near Sienna. + +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. + +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. + +v. 128. The tower of Carisenda.] The leaning tower at Bologna + +CANTO XXXII. + + +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. + +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. + +v. 33. To where modest shame appears.] “As high as to the face.” + +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.” + +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. + +v. 59. Not him,] Mordrec, son of King Arthur. + +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. + +v. 63. Mascheroni.] Sassol Mascheroni, a Florentiue, who also murdered +his uncle. + +v. 66. Camiccione.] Camiccione de’ Pazzi of Valdarno, by whom his +kinsman Ubertino was treacherously pnt to death. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 + +v. 128. Tydeus.] See Statius, Theb. l. viii. ad finem. + +CANTO XXXIII. + + +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. + +“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. + +Chancer has briefly told Ugolino’s story. See Monke’s Tale, +Hugeline of Pise. + +v. 29. Unto the mountain.] The mountain S. Giuliano, between Pisa and +Lucca. + +v. 59. Thou gav’st.] + + Tu ne vestisti + + Queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia. +Imitated by Filicaja, Canz. iii. + + Di questa imperial caduca spoglia + + Tu, Signor, me vestisti e tu mi spoglia: + + Ben puoi’l Regno me tor tu che me’l desti. +And by Maffei, in the Merope: + + Tu disciogleste + + Queste misere membra e tu le annodi. + +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.” + +v. 82. Capraia and Gorgona.] Small islands near the mouth of the Arno. + +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. + +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. + +v. 126. The glazed tear-drops.] + +-sorrow’s eye, glazed with blinding tears. Shakspeare, Rich. II. a. 2. +s. 2. + +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. + +v. 162 Romagna’s darkest spirit.] The friar Alberigo. + +Canto XXXIV. + +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. + +v. 37. Three faces.] It can scarcely be doubted but that Milton derived +his description of Satan in those lines, + + Each passion dimm’d his face + + Thrice chang’d with pale, ire, envy, and despair. + + P. L. b. iv. 114. +from this passage, coupled with the remark of Vellutello upon it: + +“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.” + +v. 44. Sails.] + + —His sail-broad vans + + He spreads for flight. + + Milton, P. L. b. ii. 927. +Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. xi. st. 10; Ben Jonson’s Every +Man out of his humour, v. 7; and Fletcher’s Prophetess, a. 2. s. +3. + +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. + + Ingentem vidi regem ingentique sedentem + + In solio, crines flammanti stemmate cinctum + + —-utrinque patentes + + Alae humeris magnae, quales vespertilionum + + Membranis contextae amplis— + + Nudus erat longis sed opertus corpora villis. + + M. Palingenii, Zod. Vit. l. ix. + + A mighty king I might discerne, + + Plac’d hie on lofty chaire, + + His haire with fyry garland deckt + + Puft up in fiendish wise. + + x x x x x x + + Large wings on him did grow + + Framde like the wings of flinder mice, &c. + + Googe’s Translation + +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. + +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. + +v. 120. By what of firm land on this side appears.] The mountain of +Purgatory. + +v.123. The vaulted tomb.] “La tomba.” This word is used to express the +whole depth of the infernal region. + + + + +PURGATORY + + + + +CANTO I + + +O’er better waves to speed her rapid course +The light bark of my genius lifts the sail, +Well pleas’d to leave so cruel sea behind; +And of that second region will I sing, +In which the human spirit from sinful blot +Is purg’d, and for ascent to Heaven prepares. + +Here, O ye hallow’d Nine! for in your train +I follow, here the deadened strain revive; +Nor let Calliope refuse to sound +A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone, +Which when the wretched birds of chattering note +Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope. + +Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread +O’er the serene aspect of the pure air, +High up as the first circle, to mine eyes +Unwonted joy renew’d, soon as I ’scap’d +Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom, +That had mine eyes and bosom fill’d with grief. +The radiant planet, that to love invites, +Made all the orient laugh, and veil’d beneath +The Pisces’ light, that in his escort came. + +To the right hand I turn’d, and fix’d my mind +On the’ other pole attentive, where I saw +Four stars ne’er seen before save by the ken +Of our first parents. Heaven of their rays +Seem’d joyous. O thou northern site, bereft +Indeed, and widow’d, since of these depriv’d! + +As from this view I had desisted, straight +Turning a little tow’rds the other pole, +There from whence now the wain had disappear’d, +I saw an old man standing by my side +Alone, so worthy of rev’rence in his look, +That ne’er from son to father more was ow’d. +Low down his beard and mix’d with hoary white +Descended, like his locks, which parting fell +Upon his breast in double fold. The beams +Of those four luminaries on his face +So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear +Deck’d it, that I beheld him as the sun. + +“Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream, +Forth from th’ eternal prison-house have fled?” +He spoke and moved those venerable plumes. +“Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure +Lights you emerging from the depth of night, +That makes the infernal valley ever black? +Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss +Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain’d, +That thus, condemn’d, ye to my caves approach?” + +My guide, then laying hold on me, by words +And intimations given with hand and head, +Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay +Due reverence; then thus to him replied. + +“Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven +Descending, had besought me in my charge +To bring. But since thy will implies, that more +Our true condition I unfold at large, +Mine is not to deny thee thy request. +This mortal ne’er hath seen the farthest gloom. +But erring by his folly had approach’d +So near, that little space was left to turn. +Then, as before I told, I was dispatch’d +To work his rescue, and no way remain’d +Save this which I have ta’en. I have display’d +Before him all the regions of the bad; +And purpose now those spirits to display, +That under thy command are purg’d from sin. +How I have brought him would be long to say. +From high descends the virtue, by whose aid +I to thy sight and hearing him have led. +Now may our coming please thee. In the search +Of liberty he journeys: that how dear +They know, who for her sake have life refus’d. +Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet +In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds, +That in the last great day will shine so bright. +For us the’ eternal edicts are unmov’d: +He breathes, and I am free of Minos’ power, +Abiding in that circle where the eyes +Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look +Prays thee, O hallow’d spirit! to own her shine. +Then by her love we’ implore thee, let us pass +Through thy sev’n regions; for which best thanks +I for thy favour will to her return, +If mention there below thou not disdain.” + +“Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,” +He then to him rejoin’d, “while I was there, +That all she ask’d me I was fain to grant. +Now that beyond the’ accursed stream she dwells, +She may no longer move me, by that law, +Which was ordain’d me, when I issued thence. +Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst, +Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs. +Enough for me that in her name thou ask. +Go therefore now: and with a slender reed +See that thou duly gird him, and his face +Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence. +For not with eye, by any cloud obscur’d, +Would it be seemly before him to come, +Who stands the foremost minister in heaven. +This islet all around, there far beneath, +Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed +Produces store of reeds. No other plant, +Cover’d with leaves, or harden’d in its stalk, +There lives, not bending to the water’s sway. +After, this way return not; but the sun +Will show you, that now rises, where to take +The mountain in its easiest ascent.” + +He disappear’d; and I myself uprais’d +Speechless, and to my guide retiring close, +Toward him turn’d mine eyes. He thus began; +“My son! observant thou my steps pursue. +We must retreat to rearward, for that way +The champain to its low extreme declines.” + +The dawn had chas’d the matin hour of prime, +Which deaf before it, so that from afar +I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream. + +We travers’d the deserted plain, as one +Who, wander’d from his track, thinks every step +Trodden in vain till he regain the path. + +When we had come, where yet the tender dew +Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh +The wind breath’d o’er it, while it slowly dried; +Both hands extended on the watery grass +My master plac’d, in graceful act and kind. +Whence I of his intent before appriz’d, +Stretch’d out to him my cheeks suffus’d with tears. +There to my visage he anew restor’d +That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal’d. + +Then on the solitary shore arriv’d, +That never sailing on its waters saw +Man, that could after measure back his course, +He girt me in such manner as had pleas’d +Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell! +As he selected every humble plant, +Wherever one was pluck’d, another there +Resembling, straightway in its place arose. + + + + +CANTO II + + +Now had the sun to that horizon reach’d, +That covers, with the most exalted point +Of its meridian circle, Salem’s walls, +And night, that opposite to him her orb +Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth, +Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp’d +When she reigns highest: so that where I was, +Aurora’s white and vermeil-tinctur’d cheek +To orange turn’d as she in age increas’d. + +Meanwhile we linger’d by the water’s brink, +Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought +Journey, while motionless the body rests. +When lo! as near upon the hour of dawn, +Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam +Glares down in west, over the ocean floor; +So seem’d, what once again I hope to view, +A light so swiftly coming through the sea, +No winged course might equal its career. +From which when for a space I had withdrawn +Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide, +Again I look’d and saw it grown in size +And brightness: thou on either side appear’d +Something, but what I knew not of bright hue, +And by degrees from underneath it came +Another. My preceptor silent yet +Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern’d, +Open’d the form of wings: then when he knew +The pilot, cried aloud, “Down, down; bend low +Thy knees; behold God’s angel: fold thy hands: +Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed. +Lo how all human means he sets at naught! +So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail +Except his wings, between such distant shores. +Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear’d, +Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes, +That not like mortal hairs fall off or change!” + +As more and more toward us came, more bright +Appear’d the bird of God, nor could the eye +Endure his splendor near: I mine bent down. +He drove ashore in a small bark so swift +And light, that in its course no wave it drank. +The heav’nly steersman at the prow was seen, +Visibly written blessed in his looks. +Within a hundred spirits and more there sat. +“In Exitu Israel de Aegypto;” +All with one voice together sang, with what +In the remainder of that hymn is writ. +Then soon as with the sign of holy cross +He bless’d them, they at once leap’d out on land, +The swiftly as he came return’d. The crew, +There left, appear’d astounded with the place, +Gazing around as one who sees new sights. + +From every side the sun darted his beams, +And with his arrowy radiance from mid heav’n +Had chas’d the Capricorn, when that strange tribe +Lifting their eyes towards us: If ye know, +Declare what path will Lead us to the mount.” + +Them Virgil answer’d. “Ye suppose perchance +Us well acquainted with this place: but here, +We, as yourselves, are strangers. Not long erst +We came, before you but a little space, +By other road so rough and hard, that now +The’ ascent will seem to us as play.” The spirits, +Who from my breathing had perceiv’d I liv’d, +Grew pale with wonder. As the multitude +Flock round a herald, sent with olive branch, +To hear what news he brings, and in their haste +Tread one another down, e’en so at sight +Of me those happy spirits were fix’d, each one +Forgetful of its errand, to depart, +Where cleans’d from sin, it might be made all fair. + +Then one I saw darting before the rest +With such fond ardour to embrace me, I +To do the like was mov’d. O shadows vain +Except in outward semblance! thrice my hands +I clasp’d behind it, they as oft return’d +Empty into my breast again. Surprise +I needs must think was painted in my looks, +For that the shadow smil’d and backward drew. +To follow it I hasten’d, but with voice +Of sweetness it enjoin’d me to desist. +Then who it was I knew, and pray’d of it, +To talk with me, it would a little pause. +It answered: “Thee as in my mortal frame +I lov’d, so loos’d forth it I love thee still, +And therefore pause; but why walkest thou here?” + +“Not without purpose once more to return, +Thou find’st me, my Casella, where I am +Journeying this way;” I said, “but how of thee +Hath so much time been lost?” He answer’d straight: +“No outrage hath been done to me, if he +Who when and whom he chooses takes, me oft +This passage hath denied, since of just will +His will he makes. These three months past indeed, +He, whose chose to enter, with free leave +Hath taken; whence I wand’ring by the shore +Where Tyber’s wave grows salt, of him gain’d kind +Admittance, at that river’s mouth, tow’rd which +His wings are pointed, for there always throng +All such as not to Archeron descend.” + +Then I: “If new laws have not quite destroy’d +Memory and use of that sweet song of love, +That while all my cares had power to ’swage; +Please thee with it a little to console +My spirit, that incumber’d with its frame, +Travelling so far, of pain is overcome.” + +“Love that discourses in my thoughts.” He then +Began in such soft accents, that within +The sweetness thrills me yet. My gentle guide +And all who came with him, so well were pleas’d, +That seem’d naught else might in their thoughts have room. + +Fast fix’d in mute attention to his notes +We stood, when lo! that old man venerable +Exclaiming, “How is this, ye tardy spirits? +What negligence detains you loit’ring here? +Run to the mountain to cast off those scales, +That from your eyes the sight of God conceal.” + +As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food +Collected, blade or tares, without their pride +Accustom’d, and in still and quiet sort, +If aught alarm them, suddenly desert +Their meal, assail’d by more important care; +So I that new-come troop beheld, the song +Deserting, hasten to the mountain’s side, +As one who goes yet where he tends knows not. + +Nor with less hurried step did we depart. + + + + +CANTO III + + +Them sudden flight had scatter’d over the plain, +Turn’d tow’rds the mountain, whither reason’s voice +Drives us; I to my faithful company +Adhering, left it not. For how of him +Depriv’d, might I have sped, or who beside +Would o’er the mountainous tract have led my steps +He with the bitter pang of self-remorse +Seem’d smitten. O clear conscience and upright +How doth a little fling wound thee sore! + +Soon as his feet desisted (slack’ning pace), +From haste, that mars all decency of act, +My mind, that in itself before was wrapt, +Its thoughts expanded, as with joy restor’d: +And full against the steep ascent I set +My face, where highest to heav’n its top o’erflows. + +The sun, that flar’d behind, with ruddy beam +Before my form was broken; for in me +His rays resistance met. I turn’d aside +With fear of being left, when I beheld +Only before myself the ground obscur’d. +When thus my solace, turning him around, +Bespake me kindly: “Why distrustest thou? +Believ’st not I am with thee, thy sure guide? +It now is evening there, where buried lies +The body, in which I cast a shade, remov’d +To Naples from Brundusium’s wall. Nor thou +Marvel, if before me no shadow fall, +More than that in the sky element +One ray obstructs not other. To endure +Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames +That virtue hath dispos’d, which how it works +Wills not to us should be reveal’d. Insane +Who hopes, our reason may that space explore, +Which holds three persons in one substance knit. +Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind; +Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been +For Mary to bring forth. Moreover ye +Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly; +To whose desires repose would have been giv’n, +That now but serve them for eternal grief. +I speak of Plato, and the Stagyrite, +And others many more.” And then he bent +Downwards his forehead, and in troubled mood +Broke off his speech. Meanwhile we had arriv’d +Far as the mountain’s foot, and there the rock +Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps +To climb it had been vain. The most remote +Most wild untrodden path, in all the tract +’Twixt Lerice and Turbia were to this +A ladder easy’ and open of access. + +“Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?” +My master said and paus’d, “so that he may +Ascend, who journeys without aid of wine,?” +And while with looks directed to the ground +The meaning of the pathway he explor’d, +And I gaz’d upward round the stony height, +Of spirits, that toward us mov’d their steps, +Yet moving seem’d not, they so slow approach’d. + +I thus my guide address’d: “Upraise thine eyes, +Lo that way some, of whom thou may’st obtain +Counsel, if of thyself thou find’st it not!” + +Straightway he look’d, and with free speech replied: +“Let us tend thither: they but softly come. +And thou be firm in hope, my son belov’d.” + +Now was that people distant far in space +A thousand paces behind ours, as much +As at a throw the nervous arm could fling, +When all drew backward on the messy crags +Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmov’d +As one who walks in doubt might stand to look. + +“O spirits perfect! O already chosen!” +Virgil to them began, “by that blest peace, +Which, as I deem, is for you all prepar’d, +Instruct us where the mountain low declines, +So that attempt to mount it be not vain. +For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves.” + +As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one, +Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest +Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose +To ground, and what the foremost does, that do +The others, gath’ring round her, if she stops, +Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern; +So saw I moving to advance the first, +Who of that fortunate crew were at the head, +Of modest mien and graceful in their gait. +When they before me had beheld the light +From my right side fall broken on the ground, +So that the shadow reach’d the cave, they stopp’d +And somewhat back retir’d: the same did all, +Who follow’d, though unweeting of the cause + +“Unask’d of you, yet freely I confess, +This is a human body which ye see. +That the sun’s light is broken on the ground, +Marvel not: but believe, that not without +Virtue deriv’d from Heaven, we to climb +Over this wall aspire.” So them bespake +My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin’d; +“ Turn, and before you there the entrance lies,” +Making a signal to us with bent hands. + +Then of them one began. “Whoe’er thou art, +Who journey’st thus this way, thy visage turn, +Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen.” + +I tow’rds him turn’d, and with fix’d eye beheld. +Comely, and fair, and gentle of aspect, +He seem’d, but on one brow a gash was mark’d. + +When humbly I disclaim’d to have beheld +Him ever: “Now behold!” he said, and show’d +High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake. + +“I am Manfredi, grandson to the Queen +Costanza: whence I pray thee, when return’d, +To my fair daughter go, the parent glad +Of Aragonia and Sicilia’s pride; +And of the truth inform her, if of me +Aught else be told. When by two mortal blows +My frame was shatter’d, I betook myself +Weeping to him, who of free will forgives. +My sins were horrible; but so wide arms +Hath goodness infinite, that it receives +All who turn to it. Had this text divine +Been of Cosenza’s shepherd better scann’d, +Who then by Clement on my hunt was set, +Yet at the bridge’s head my bones had lain, +Near Benevento, by the heavy mole +Protected; but the rain now drenches them, +And the wind drives, out of the kingdom’s bounds, +Far as the stream of Verde, where, with lights +Extinguish’d, he remov’d them from their bed. +Yet by their curse we are not so destroy’d, +But that the eternal love may turn, while hope +Retains her verdant blossoms. True it is, +That such one as in contumacy dies +Against the holy church, though he repent, +Must wander thirty-fold for all the time +In his presumption past; if such decree +Be not by prayers of good men shorter made +Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss; +Revealing to my good Costanza, how +Thou hast beheld me, and beside the terms +Laid on me of that interdict; for here +By means of those below much profit comes.” + + + + +CANTO IV + + +When by sensations of delight or pain, +That any of our faculties hath seiz’d, +Entire the soul collects herself, it seems +She is intent upon that power alone, +And thus the error is disprov’d which holds +The soul not singly lighted in the breast. +And therefore when as aught is heard or seen, +That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn’d, +Time passes, and a man perceives it not. +For that, whereby he hearken, is one power, +Another that, which the whole spirit hash; +This is as it were bound, while that is free. + +This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit +And wond’ring; for full fifty steps aloft +The sun had measur’d unobserv’d of me, +When we arriv’d where all with one accord +The spirits shouted, “Here is what ye ask.” + +A larger aperture ofttimes is stopp’d +With forked stake of thorn by villager, +When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path, +By which my guide, and I behind him close, +Ascended solitary, when that troop +Departing left us. On Sanleo’s road +Who journeys, or to Noli low descends, +Or mounts Bismantua’s height, must use his feet; +But here a man had need to fly, I mean +With the swift wing and plumes of high desire, +Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope, +And with light furnish’d to direct my way. + +We through the broken rock ascended, close +Pent on each side, while underneath the ground +Ask’d help of hands and feet. When we arriv’d +Near on the highest ridge of the steep bank, +Where the plain level open’d I exclaim’d, +“O master! say which way can we proceed?” + +He answer’d, “Let no step of thine recede. +Behind me gain the mountain, till to us +Some practis’d guide appear.” That eminence +Was lofty that no eye might reach its point, +And the side proudly rising, more than line +From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn. +I wearied thus began: “Parent belov’d! +Turn, and behold how I remain alone, +If thou stay not.”—” My son!” He straight reply’d, +“Thus far put forth thy strength; “and to a track +Pointed, that, on this side projecting, round +Circles the hill. His words so spurr’d me on, +That I behind him clamb’ring, forc’d myself, +Till my feet press’d the circuit plain beneath. +There both together seated, turn’d we round +To eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft +Many beside have with delight look’d back. + +First on the nether shores I turn’d my eyes, +Then rais’d them to the sun, and wond’ring mark’d +That from the left it smote us. Soon perceiv’d +That Poet sage how at the car of light +Amaz’d I stood, where ’twixt us and the north +Its course it enter’d. Whence he thus to me: +“Were Leda’s offspring now in company +Of that broad mirror, that high up and low +Imparts his light beneath, thou might’st behold +The ruddy zodiac nearer to the bears +Wheel, if its ancient course it not forsook. +How that may be if thou would’st think; within +Pond’ring, imagine Sion with this mount +Plac’d on the earth, so that to both be one +Horizon, and two hemispheres apart, +Where lies the path that Phaeton ill knew +To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see +How of necessity by this on one +He passes, while by that on the’ other side, +If with clear view shine intellect attend.” + +“Of truth, kind teacher!” I exclaim’d, “so clear +Aught saw I never, as I now discern +Where seem’d my ken to fail, that the mid orb +Of the supernal motion (which in terms +Of art is called the Equator, and remains +Ever between the sun and winter) for the cause +Thou hast assign’d, from hence toward the north +Departs, when those who in the Hebrew land +Inhabit, see it tow’rds the warmer part. +But if it please thee, I would gladly know, +How far we have to journey: for the hill +Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount.” + +He thus to me: “Such is this steep ascent, +That it is ever difficult at first, +But, more a man proceeds, less evil grows. +When pleasant it shall seem to thee, so much +That upward going shall be easy to thee. +As in a vessel to go down the tide, +Then of this path thou wilt have reach’d the end. +There hope to rest thee from thy toil. No more +I answer, and thus far for certain know.” +As he his words had spoken, near to us +A voice there sounded: “Yet ye first perchance +May to repose you by constraint be led.” +At sound thereof each turn’d, and on the left +A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I +Nor he before was ware. Thither we drew, +find there were some, who in the shady place +Behind the rock were standing, as a man +Thru’ idleness might stand. Among them one, +Who seem’d to me much wearied, sat him down, +And with his arms did fold his knees about, +Holding his face between them downward bent. + +“Sweet Sir!” I cry’d, “behold that man, who shows +Himself more idle, than if laziness +Were sister to him.” Straight he turn’d to us, +And, o’er the thigh lifting his face, observ’d, +Then in these accents spake: “Up then, proceed +Thou valiant one.” Straight who it was I knew; +Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath +Still somewhat urg’d me) hinder my approach. +And when I came to him, he scarce his head +Uplifted, saying “Well hast thou discern’d, +How from the left the sun his chariot leads.” + +His lazy acts and broken words my lips +To laughter somewhat mov’d; when I began: +“Belacqua, now for thee I grieve no more. +But tell, why thou art seated upright there? +Waitest thou escort to conduct thee hence? +Or blame I only shine accustom’d ways?” +Then he: “My brother, of what use to mount, +When to my suffering would not let me pass +The bird of God, who at the portal sits? +Behooves so long that heav’n first bear me round +Without its limits, as in life it bore, +Because I to the end repentant Sighs +Delay’d, if prayer do not aid me first, +That riseth up from heart which lives in grace. +What other kind avails, not heard in heaven?” + +Before me now the Poet up the mount +Ascending, cried: “Haste thee, for see the sun +Has touch’d the point meridian, and the night +Now covers with her foot Marocco’s shore.” + + + + +CANTO V + + +Now had I left those spirits, and pursued +The steps of my Conductor, when beheld +Pointing the finger at me one exclaim’d: +“See how it seems as if the light not shone +From the left hand of him beneath, and he, +As living, seems to be led on.” Mine eyes +I at that sound reverting, saw them gaze +Through wonder first at me, and then at me +And the light broken underneath, by turns. +“Why are thy thoughts thus riveted?” my guide +Exclaim’d, “that thou hast slack’d thy pace? or how +Imports it thee, what thing is whisper’d here? +Come after me, and to their babblings leave +The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set, +Shakes not its top for any blast that blows! +He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out, +Still of his aim is wide, in that the one +Sicklies and wastes to nought the other’s strength.” + +What other could I answer save “I come?” +I said it, somewhat with that colour ting’d +Which ofttimes pardon meriteth for man. + +Meanwhile traverse along the hill there came, +A little way before us, some who sang +The “Miserere” in responsive Strains. +When they perceiv’d that through my body I +Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song +Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they chang’d; +And two of them, in guise of messengers, +Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask’d: +Of your condition we would gladly learn.” + +To them my guide. “Ye may return, and bear +Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame +Is real flesh. If, as I deem, to view +His shade they paus’d, enough is answer’d them. +Him let them honour, they may prize him well.” + +Ne’er saw I fiery vapours with such speed +Cut through the serene air at fall of night, +Nor August’s clouds athwart the setting sun, +That upward these did not in shorter space +Return; and, there arriving, with the rest +Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop. + +“Many,” exclaim’d the bard, “are these, who throng +Around us: to petition thee they come. +Go therefore on, and listen as thou go’st.” + +“O spirit! who go’st on to blessedness +With the same limbs, that clad thee at thy birth.” +Shouting they came, “a little rest thy step. +Look if thou any one amongst our tribe +Hast e’er beheld, that tidings of him there +Thou mayst report. Ah, wherefore go’st thou on? +Ah wherefore tarriest thou not? We all +By violence died, and to our latest hour +Were sinners, but then warn’d by light from heav’n, +So that, repenting and forgiving, we +Did issue out of life at peace with God, +Who with desire to see him fills our heart.” + +Then I: “The visages of all I scan +Yet none of ye remember. But if aught, +That I can do, may please you, gentle spirits! +Speak; and I will perform it, by that peace, +Which on the steps of guide so excellent +Following from world to world intent I seek.” + +In answer he began: “None here distrusts +Thy kindness, though not promis’d with an oath; +So as the will fail not for want of power. +Whence I, who sole before the others speak, +Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land, +Which lies between Romagna and the realm +Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray +Those who inhabit Fano, that for me +Their adorations duly be put up, +By which I may purge off my grievous sins. +From thence I came. But the deep passages, +Whence issued out the blood wherein I dwelt, +Upon my bosom in Antenor’s land +Were made, where to be more secure I thought. +The author of the deed was Este’s prince, +Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath +Pursued me. Had I towards Mira fled, +When overta’en at Oriaco, still +Might I have breath’d. But to the marsh I sped, +And in the mire and rushes tangled there +Fell, and beheld my life-blood float the plain.” + +Then said another: “Ah! so may the wish, +That takes thee o’er the mountain, be fulfill’d, +As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine. +Of Montefeltro I; Buonconte I: +Giovanna nor none else have care for me, +Sorrowing with these I therefore go.” I thus: +“From Campaldino’s field what force or chance +Drew thee, that ne’er thy sepulture was known?” + +“Oh!” answer’d he, “at Casentino’s foot +A stream there courseth, nam’d Archiano, sprung +In Apennine above the Hermit’s seat. +E’en where its name is cancel’d, there came I, +Pierc’d in the heart, fleeing away on foot, +And bloodying the plain. Here sight and speech +Fail’d me, and finishing with Mary’s name +I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain’d. +I will report the truth; which thou again0 +Tell to the living. Me God’s angel took, +Whilst he of hell exclaim’d: “O thou from heav’n! +Say wherefore hast thou robb’d me? Thou of him +Th’ eternal portion bear’st with thee away +For one poor tear that he deprives me of. +But of the other, other rule I make.” + +“Thou knowest how in the atmosphere collects +That vapour dank, returning into water, +Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it. +That evil will, which in his intellect +Still follows evil, came, and rais’d the wind +And smoky mist, by virtue of the power +Given by his nature. Thence the valley, soon +As day was spent, he cover’d o’er with cloud +From Pratomagno to the mountain range, +And stretch’d the sky above, so that the air +Impregnate chang’d to water. Fell the rain, +And to the fosses came all that the land +Contain’d not; and, as mightiest streams are wont, +To the great river with such headlong sweep +Rush’d, that nought stay’d its course. My stiffen’d frame +Laid at his mouth the fell Archiano found, +And dash’d it into Arno, from my breast +Loos’ning the cross, that of myself I made +When overcome with pain. He hurl’d me on, +Along the banks and bottom of his course; +Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt.” + +“Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return’d, +And rested after thy long road,” so spake +Next the third spirit; “then remember me. +I once was Pia. Sienna gave me life, +Maremma took it from me. That he knows, +Who me with jewell’d ring had first espous’d.” + + + + +CANTO VI + + +When from their game of dice men separate, +He, who hath lost, remains in sadness fix’d, +Revolving in his mind, what luckless throws +He cast: but meanwhile all the company +Go with the other; one before him runs, +And one behind his mantle twitches, one +Fast by his side bids him remember him. +He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand +Is stretch’d, well knows he bids him stand aside; +And thus he from the press defends himself. +E’en such was I in that close-crowding throng; +And turning so my face around to all, +And promising, I ’scap’d from it with pains. + +Here of Arezzo him I saw, who fell +By Ghino’s cruel arm; and him beside, +Who in his chase was swallow’d by the stream. +Here Frederic Novello, with his hand +Stretch’d forth, entreated; and of Pisa he, +Who put the good Marzuco to such proof +Of constancy. Count Orso I beheld; +And from its frame a soul dismiss’d for spite +And envy, as it said, but for no crime: +I speak of Peter de la Brosse; and here, +While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant +Let her beware; lest for so false a deed +She herd with worse than these. When I was freed +From all those spirits, who pray’d for others’ prayers +To hasten on their state of blessedness; +Straight I began: “O thou, my luminary! +It seems expressly in thy text denied, +That heaven’s supreme decree can never bend +To supplication; yet with this design +Do these entreat. Can then their hope be vain, +Or is thy saying not to me reveal’d?” + +He thus to me: “Both what I write is plain, +And these deceiv’d not in their hope, if well +Thy mind consider, that the sacred height +Of judgment doth not stoop, because love’s flame +In a short moment all fulfils, which he +Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy. +Besides, when I this point concluded thus, +By praying no defect could be supplied; +Because the pray’r had none access to God. +Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not +Contented unless she assure thee so, +Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light. +I know not if thou take me right; I mean +Beatrice. Her thou shalt behold above, +Upon this mountain’s crown, fair seat of joy.” + +Then I: “Sir! let us mend our speed; for now +I tire not as before; and lo! the hill +Stretches its shadow far.” He answer’d thus: +“Our progress with this day shall be as much +As we may now dispatch; but otherwise +Than thou supposest is the truth. For there +Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold +Him back returning, who behind the steep +Is now so hidden, that as erst his beam +Thou dost not break. But lo! a spirit there +Stands solitary, and toward us looks: +It will instruct us in the speediest way.” + +We soon approach’d it. O thou Lombard spirit! +How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood, +Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes! +It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass, +Eyeing us as a lion on his watch. +I3ut Virgil with entreaty mild advanc’d, +Requesting it to show the best ascent. +It answer to his question none return’d, +But of our country and our kind of life +Demanded. When my courteous guide began, +“Mantua,” the solitary shadow quick +Rose towards us from the place in which it stood, +And cry’d, “Mantuan! I am thy countryman +Sordello.” Each the other then embrac’d. + +Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief, +Vessel without a pilot in loud storm, +Lady no longer of fair provinces, +But brothel-house impure! this gentle spirit, +Ev’n from the Pleasant sound of his dear land +Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen +With such glad cheer; while now thy living ones +In thee abide not without war; and one +Malicious gnaws another, ay of those +Whom the same wall and the same moat contains, +Seek, wretched one! around thy sea-coasts wide; +Then homeward to thy bosom turn, and mark +If any part of the sweet peace enjoy. +What boots it, that thy reins Justinian’s hand +Befitted, if thy saddle be unpress’d? +Nought doth he now but aggravate thy shame. +Ah people! thou obedient still shouldst live, +And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit, +If well thou marked’st that which God commands + +Look how that beast to felness hath relaps’d +From having lost correction of the spur, +Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand, +O German Albert! who abandon’st her, +That is grown savage and unmanageable, +When thou should’st clasp her flanks with forked heels. +Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood! +And be it strange and manifest to all! +Such as may strike thy successor with dread! +For that thy sire and thou have suffer’d thus, +Through greediness of yonder realms detain’d, +The garden of the empire to run waste. +Come see the Capulets and Montagues, +The Philippeschi and Monaldi! man +Who car’st for nought! those sunk in grief, and these +With dire suspicion rack’d. Come, cruel one! +Come and behold the’ oppression of the nobles, +And mark their injuries: and thou mayst see. +What safety Santafiore can supply. +Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee, +Desolate widow! day and night with moans: +“My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?” +Come and behold what love among thy people: +And if no pity touches thee for us, +Come and blush for thine own report. For me, +If it be lawful, O Almighty Power, +Who wast in earth for our sakes crucified! +Are thy just eyes turn’d elsewhere? or is this +A preparation in the wond’rous depth +Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end, +Entirely from our reach of thought cut off? +So are the’ Italian cities all o’erthrong’d +With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made +Of every petty factious villager. + +My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmov’d +At this digression, which affects not thee: +Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed. +Many have justice in their heart, that long +Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow, +Or ere it dart unto its aim: but shine +Have it on their lip’s edge. Many refuse +To bear the common burdens: readier thine +Answer uneall’d, and cry, “Behold I stoop!” + +Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now, +Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom-fraught! +Facts best witness if I speak the truth. +Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old +Enacted laws, for civil arts renown’d, +Made little progress in improving life +Tow’rds thee, who usest such nice subtlety, +That to the middle of November scarce +Reaches the thread thou in October weav’st. +How many times, within thy memory, +Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices +Have been by thee renew’d, and people chang’d! + +If thou remember’st well and can’st see clear, +Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch, +Who finds no rest upon her down, hut oft +Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain. + + + + +CANTO VII + + +After their courteous greetings joyfully +Sev’n times exchang’d, Sordello backward drew +Exclaiming, “Who are ye?” “Before this mount +By spirits worthy of ascent to God +Was sought, my bones had by Octavius’ care +Been buried. I am Virgil, for no sin +Depriv’d of heav’n, except for lack of faith.” + +So answer’d him in few my gentle guide. + +As one, who aught before him suddenly +Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries +“It is yet is not,” wav’ring in belief; +Such he appear’d; then downward bent his eyes, +And drawing near with reverential step, +Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp +His lord. “Glory of Latium!” he exclaim’d, +“In whom our tongue its utmost power display’d! +Boast of my honor’d birth-place! what desert +Of mine, what favour rather undeserv’d, +Shows thee to me? If I to hear that voice +Am worthy, say if from below thou com’st +And from what cloister’s pale?”—“Through every orb +Of that sad region,” he reply’d, “thus far +Am I arriv’d, by heav’nly influence led +And with such aid I come. There is a place +There underneath, not made by torments sad, +But by dun shades alone; where mourning’s voice +Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs. +There I with little innocents abide, +Who by death’s fangs were bitten, ere exempt +From human taint. There I with those abide, +Who the three holy virtues put not on, +But understood the rest, and without blame +Follow’d them all. But if thou know’st and canst, +Direct us, how we soonest may arrive, +Where Purgatory its true beginning takes.” + +He answer’d thus: “We have no certain place +Assign’d us: upwards I may go or round, +Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide. +But thou beholdest now how day declines: +And upwards to proceed by night, our power +Excels: therefore it may be well to choose +A place of pleasant sojourn. To the right +Some spirits sit apart retir’d. If thou +Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps: +And thou wilt know them, not without delight.” + +“How chances this?” was answer’d; “who so wish’d +To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr’d +By other, or through his own weakness fail?” + +The good Sordello then, along the ground +Trailing his finger, spoke: “Only this line +Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun +Hath disappear’d; not that aught else impedes +Thy going upwards, save the shades of night. +These with the wont of power perplex the will. +With them thou haply mightst return beneath, +Or to and fro around the mountain’s side +Wander, while day is in the horizon shut.” + +My master straight, as wond’ring at his speech, +Exclaim’d: “Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst, +That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight.” + +A little space we were remov’d from thence, +When I perceiv’d the mountain hollow’d out. +Ev’n as large valleys hollow’d out on earth, + +“That way,” the’ escorting spirit cried, “we go, +Where in a bosom the high bank recedes: +And thou await renewal of the day.” + +Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path +Led us traverse into the ridge’s side, +Where more than half the sloping edge expires. +Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin’d, +And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood +Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds +But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers +Plac’d in that fair recess, in color all +Had been surpass’d, as great surpasses less. +Nor nature only there lavish’d her hues, +But of the sweetness of a thousand smells +A rare and undistinguish’d fragrance made. + +“Salve Regina,” on the grass and flowers +Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit +Who not beyond the valley could be seen. + +“Before the west’ring sun sink to his bed,” +Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn’d, + +“’Mid those desires not that I lead ye on. +For from this eminence ye shall discern +Better the acts and visages of all, +Than in the nether vale among them mix’d. +He, who sits high above the rest, and seems +To have neglected that he should have done, +And to the others’ song moves not his lip, +The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal’d +The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died, +So that by others she revives but slowly, +He, who with kindly visage comforts him, +Sway’d in that country, where the water springs, +That Moldaw’s river to the Elbe, and Elbe +Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name: +Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth +Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man, +Pamper’d with rank luxuriousness and ease. +And that one with the nose depress, who close +In counsel seems with him of gentle look, +Flying expir’d, with’ring the lily’s flower. +Look there how he doth knock against his breast! +The other ye behold, who for his cheek +Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs. +They are the father and the father-in-law +Of Gallia’s bane: his vicious life they know +And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus. + +“He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps +In song, with him of feature prominent, +With ev’ry virtue bore his girdle brac’d. +And if that stripling who behinds him sits, +King after him had liv’d, his virtue then +From vessel to like vessel had been pour’d; +Which may not of the other heirs be said. +By James and Frederick his realms are held; +Neither the better heritage obtains. +Rarely into the branches of the tree +Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains +He who bestows it, that as his free gift +It may be call’d. To Charles my words apply +No less than to his brother in the song; +Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess. +So much that plant degenerates from its seed, +As more than Beatrice and Margaret +Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse. + +“Behold the king of simple life and plain, +Harry of England, sitting there alone: +He through his branches better issue spreads. + +“That one, who on the ground beneath the rest +Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft, +Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause +The deed of Alexandria and his war +Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep.” + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +Now was the hour that wakens fond desire +In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart, +Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell, +And pilgrim newly on his road with love +Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far, +That seems to mourn for the expiring day: +When I, no longer taking heed to hear +Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark +One risen from its seat, which with its hand +Audience implor’d. Both palms it join’d and rais’d, +Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east, +As telling God, “I care for naught beside.” + +“Te Lucis Ante,” so devoutly then +Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain, +That all my sense in ravishment was lost. +And the rest after, softly and devout, +Follow’d through all the hymn, with upward gaze +Directed to the bright supernal wheels. + +Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen: +For of so subtle texture is this veil, +That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark’d. + +I saw that gentle band silently next +Look up, as if in expectation held, +Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high +I saw forth issuing descend beneath +Two angels with two flame-illumin’d swords, +Broken and mutilated at their points. +Green as the tender leaves but newly born, +Their vesture was, the which by wings as green +Beaten, they drew behind them, fann’d in air. +A little over us one took his stand, +The other lighted on the’ Opposing hill, +So that the troop were in the midst contain’d. + +Well I descried the whiteness on their heads; +But in their visages the dazzled eye +Was lost, as faculty that by too much +Is overpower’d. “From Mary’s bosom both +Are come,” exclaim’d Sordello, “as a guard +Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends, +The serpent.” Whence, not knowing by which path +He came, I turn’d me round, and closely press’d, +All frozen, to my leader’s trusted side. + +Sordello paus’d not: “To the valley now +(For it is time) let us descend; and hold +Converse with those great shadows: haply much +Their sight may please ye.” Only three steps down +Methinks I measur’d, ere I was beneath, +And noted one who look’d as with desire +To know me. Time was now that air arrow dim; +Yet not so dim, that ’twixt his eyes and mine +It clear’d not up what was conceal’d before. +Mutually tow’rds each other we advanc’d. +Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt, +When I perceiv’d thou wert not with the bad! + +No salutation kind on either part +Was left unsaid. He then inquir’d: “How long +Since thou arrived’st at the mountain’s foot, +Over the distant waves?”—“O!” answer’d I, +“Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came, +And still in my first life, thus journeying on, +The other strive to gain.” Soon as they heard +My words, he and Sordello backward drew, +As suddenly amaz’d. To Virgil one, +The other to a spirit turn’d, who near +Was seated, crying: “Conrad! up with speed: +Come, see what of his grace high God hath will’d.” +Then turning round to me: “By that rare mark +Of honour which thou ow’st to him, who hides +So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford, +When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves. +Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call +There, where reply to innocence is made. +Her mother, I believe, loves me no more; +Since she has chang’d the white and wimpled folds, +Which she is doom’d once more with grief to wish. +By her it easily may be perceiv’d, +How long in women lasts the flame of love, +If sight and touch do not relume it oft. +For her so fair a burial will not make +The viper which calls Milan to the field, +As had been made by shrill Gallura’s bird.” + +He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp +Of that right seal, which with due temperature +Glows in the bosom. My insatiate eyes +Meanwhile to heav’n had travel’d, even there +Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel +Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir’d: +“What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?” + +I answer’d: “The three torches, with which here +The pole is all on fire. “He then to me: +“The four resplendent stars, thou saw’st this morn +Are there beneath, and these ris’n in their stead.” + +While yet he spoke. Sordello to himself +Drew him, and cry’d: “Lo there our enemy!” +And with his hand pointed that way to look. + +Along the side, where barrier none arose +Around the little vale, a serpent lay, +Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food. +Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake +Came on, reverting oft his lifted head; +And, as a beast that smoothes its polish’d coat, +Licking his hack. I saw not, nor can tell, +How those celestial falcons from their seat +Mov’d, but in motion each one well descried, +Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes. +The serpent fled; and to their stations back +The angels up return’d with equal flight. + +The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call’d, +Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken, +Through all that conflict, loosen’d not his sight. + +“So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high, +Find, in thy destin’d lot, of wax so much, +As may suffice thee to the enamel’s height.” +It thus began: “If any certain news +Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part +Thou know’st, tell me, who once was mighty there +They call’d me Conrad Malaspina, not +That old one, but from him I sprang. The love +I bore my people is now here refin’d.” + +“In your dominions,” I answer’d, “ne’er was I. +But through all Europe where do those men dwell, +To whom their glory is not manifest? +The fame, that honours your illustrious house, +Proclaims the nobles and proclaims the land; +So that he knows it who was never there. +I swear to you, so may my upward route +Prosper! your honour’d nation not impairs +The value of her coffer and her sword. +Nature and use give her such privilege, +That while the world is twisted from his course +By a bad head, she only walks aright, +And has the evil way in scorn.” He then: +“Now pass thee on: sev’n times the tired sun +Revisits not the couch, which with four feet +The forked Aries covers, ere that kind +Opinion shall be nail’d into thy brain +With stronger nails than other’s speech can drive, +If the sure course of judgment be not stay’d.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +Now the fair consort of Tithonus old, +Arisen from her mate’s beloved arms, +Look’d palely o’er the eastern cliff: her brow, +Lucent with jewels, glitter’d, set in sign +Of that chill animal, who with his train +Smites fearful nations: and where then we were, +Two steps of her ascent the night had past, +And now the third was closing up its wing, +When I, who had so much of Adam with me, +Sank down upon the grass, o’ercome with sleep, +There where all five were seated. In that hour, +When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay, +Rememb’ring haply ancient grief, renews, +And with our minds more wand’rers from the flesh, +And less by thought restrain’d are, as ’twere, full +Of holy divination in their dreams, +Then in a vision did I seem to view +A golden-feather’d eagle in the sky, +With open wings, and hov’ring for descent, +And I was in that place, methought, from whence +Young Ganymede, from his associates ’reft, +Was snatch’d aloft to the high consistory. +“Perhaps,” thought I within me, “here alone +He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains +To pounce upon the prey.” Therewith, it seem’d, +A little wheeling in his airy tour +Terrible as the lightning rush’d he down, +And snatch’d me upward even to the fire. +There both, I thought, the eagle and myself +Did burn; and so intense th’ imagin’d flames, +That needs my sleep was broken off. As erst +Achilles shook himself, and round him roll’d +His waken’d eyeballs wond’ring where he was, +Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled +To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms; +E’en thus I shook me, soon as from my face +The slumber parted, turning deadly pale, +Like one ice-struck with dread. Solo at my side +My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now +More than two hours aloft: and to the sea +My looks were turn’d. “Fear not,” my master cried, +“Assur’d we are at happy point. Thy strength +Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come +To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff +That circling bounds it! Lo! the entrance there, +Where it doth seem disparted! Ere the dawn +Usher’d the daylight, when thy wearied soul +Slept in thee, o’er the flowery vale beneath +A lady came, and thus bespake me: “I +Am Lucia. Suffer me to take this man, +Who slumbers. Easier so his way shall speed.” +Sordello and the other gentle shapes +Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone, +This summit reach’d: and I pursued her steps. +Here did she place thee. First her lovely eyes +That open entrance show’d me; then at once +She vanish’d with thy sleep.” Like one, whose doubts +Are chas’d by certainty, and terror turn’d +To comfort on discovery of the truth, +Such was the change in me: and as my guide +Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff +He mov’d, and I behind him, towards the height. + +Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise, +Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully +I prop the structure! Nearer now we drew, +Arriv’d’ whence in that part, where first a breach +As of a wall appear’d, I could descry +A portal, and three steps beneath, that led +For inlet there, of different colour each, +And one who watch’d, but spake not yet a word. +As more and more mine eye did stretch its view, +I mark’d him seated on the highest step, +In visage such, as past my power to bear. +Grasp’d in his hand a naked sword, glanc’d back +The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain +My sight directed. “Speak from whence ye stand:” +He cried: “What would ye? Where is your escort? +Take heed your coming upward harm ye not.” + +“A heavenly dame, not skilless of these things,” +Replied the’ instructor, “told us, even now, +Pass that way: here the gate is.”—“And may she +Befriending prosper your ascent,” resum’d +The courteous keeper of the gate: “Come then +Before our steps.” We straightway thither came. + +The lowest stair was marble white so smooth +And polish’d, that therein my mirror’d form +Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark +Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block, +Crack’d lengthwise and across. The third, that lay +Massy above, seem’d porphyry, that flam’d +Red as the life-blood spouting from a vein. +On this God’s angel either foot sustain’d, +Upon the threshold seated, which appear’d +A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps +My leader cheerily drew me. “Ask,” said he, + +“With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt.” + +Piously at his holy feet devolv’d +I cast me, praying him for pity’s sake +That he would open to me: but first fell +Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times0 +The letter, that denotes the inward stain, +He on my forehead with the blunted point +Of his drawn sword inscrib’d. And “Look,” he cried, +“When enter’d, that thou wash these scars away.” + +Ashes, or earth ta’en dry out of the ground, +Were of one colour with the robe he wore. +From underneath that vestment forth he drew +Two keys of metal twain: the one was gold, +Its fellow silver. With the pallid first, +And next the burnish’d, he so ply’d the gate, +As to content me well. “Whenever one +Faileth of these, that in the keyhole straight +It turn not, to this alley then expect +Access in vain.” Such were the words he spake. +“One is more precious: but the other needs +Skill and sagacity, large share of each, +Ere its good task to disengage the knot +Be worthily perform’d. From Peter these +I hold, of him instructed, that I err +Rather in opening than in keeping fast; +So but the suppliant at my feet implore.” + +Then of that hallow’d gate he thrust the door, +Exclaiming, “Enter, but this warning hear: +He forth again departs who looks behind.” + +As in the hinges of that sacred ward +The swivels turn’d, sonorous metal strong, +Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily +Roar’d the Tarpeian, when by force bereft +Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss +To leanness doom’d. Attentively I turn’d, +List’ning the thunder, that first issued forth; +And “We praise thee, O God,” methought I heard +In accents blended with sweet melody. +The strains came o’er mine ear, e’en as the sound +Of choral voices, that in solemn chant +With organ mingle, and, now high and clear, +Come swelling, now float indistinct away. + + + + +CANTO X + + +When we had passed the threshold of the gate +(Which the soul’s ill affection doth disuse, +Making the crooked seem the straighter path), +I heard its closing sound. Had mine eyes turn’d, +For that offence what plea might have avail’d? + +We mounted up the riven rock, that wound +On either side alternate, as the wave +Flies and advances. “Here some little art +Behooves us,” said my leader, “that our steps +Observe the varying flexure of the path.” + +Thus we so slowly sped, that with cleft orb +The moon once more o’erhangs her wat’ry couch, +Ere we that strait have threaded. But when free +We came and open, where the mount above +One solid mass retires, I spent, with toil, +And both, uncertain of the way, we stood, +Upon a plain more lonesome, than the roads +That traverse desert wilds. From whence the brink +Borders upon vacuity, to foot +Of the steep bank, that rises still, the space +Had measur’d thrice the stature of a man: +And, distant as mine eye could wing its flight, +To leftward now and now to right dispatch’d, +That cornice equal in extent appear’d. + +Not yet our feet had on that summit mov’d, +When I discover’d that the bank around, +Whose proud uprising all ascent denied, +Was marble white, and so exactly wrought +With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone +Had Polycletus, but e’en nature’s self +Been sham’d. The angel who came down to earth +With tidings of the peace so many years +Wept for in vain, that op’d the heavenly gates +From their long interdict) before us seem’d, +In a sweet act, so sculptur’d to the life, +He look’d no silent image. One had sworn +He had said, “Hail!” for she was imag’d there, +By whom the key did open to God’s love, +And in her act as sensibly impress +That word, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord,” +As figure seal’d on wax. “Fix not thy mind +On one place only,” said the guide belov’d, +Who had me near him on that part where lies +The heart of man. My sight forthwith I turn’d +And mark’d, behind the virgin mother’s form, +Upon that side, where he, that mov’d me, stood, +Another story graven on the rock. + +I passed athwart the bard, and drew me near, +That it might stand more aptly for my view. +There in the self-same marble were engrav’d +The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark, +That from unbidden office awes mankind. +Before it came much people; and the whole +Parted in seven quires. One sense cried, “Nay,” +Another, “Yes, they sing.” Like doubt arose +Betwixt the eye and smell, from the curl’d fume +Of incense breathing up the well-wrought toil. +Preceding the blest vessel, onward came +With light dance leaping, girt in humble guise, +Sweet Israel’s harper: in that hap he seem’d +Less and yet more than kingly. Opposite, +At a great palace, from the lattice forth +Look’d Michol, like a lady full of scorn +And sorrow. To behold the tablet next, +Which at the hack of Michol whitely shone, +I mov’d me. There was storied on the rock +The’ exalted glory of the Roman prince, +Whose mighty worth mov’d Gregory to earn +His mighty conquest, Trajan th’ Emperor. +A widow at his bridle stood, attir’d +In tears and mourning. Round about them troop’d +Full throng of knights, and overhead in gold +The eagles floated, struggling with the wind. +The wretch appear’d amid all these to say: +“Grant vengeance, sire! for, woe beshrew this heart +My son is murder’d.” He replying seem’d; + +“Wait now till I return.” And she, as one +Made hasty by her grief; “O sire, if thou +Dost not return?”—“Where I am, who then is, +May right thee.”—” What to thee is other’s good, +If thou neglect thy own?”—“Now comfort thee,” +At length he answers. “It beseemeth well +My duty be perform’d, ere I move hence: +So justice wills; and pity bids me stay.” + +He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produc’d +That visible speaking, new to us and strange +The like not found on earth. Fondly I gaz’d +Upon those patterns of meek humbleness, +Shapes yet more precious for their artist’s sake, +When “Lo,” the poet whisper’d, “where this way +(But slack their pace), a multitude advance. +These to the lofty steps shall guide us on.” + +Mine eyes, though bent on view of novel sights +Their lov’d allurement, were not slow to turn. + +Reader! I would not that amaz’d thou miss +Of thy good purpose, hearing how just God +Decrees our debts be cancel’d. Ponder not +The form of suff’ring. Think on what succeeds, +Think that at worst beyond the mighty doom +It cannot pass. “Instructor,” I began, +“What I see hither tending, bears no trace +Of human semblance, nor of aught beside +That my foil’d sight can guess.” He answering thus: +“So courb’d to earth, beneath their heavy teems +Of torment stoop they, that mine eye at first +Struggled as thine. But look intently thither, +An disentangle with thy lab’ring view, +What underneath those stones approacheth: now, +E’en now, mayst thou discern the pangs of each.” + +Christians and proud! O poor and wretched ones! +That feeble in the mind’s eye, lean your trust +Upon unstaid perverseness! Know ye not +That we are worms, yet made at last to form +The winged insect, imp’d with angel plumes +That to heaven’s justice unobstructed soars? +Why buoy ye up aloft your unfleg’d souls? +Abortive then and shapeless ye remain, +Like the untimely embryon of a worm! + +As, to support incumbent floor or roof, +For corbel is a figure sometimes seen, +That crumples up its knees unto its breast, +With the feign’d posture stirring ruth unfeign’d +In the beholder’s fancy; so I saw +These fashion’d, when I noted well their guise. + +Each, as his back was laden, came indeed +Or more or less contract; but it appear’d +As he, who show’d most patience in his look, +Wailing exclaim’d: “I can endure no more.” + + + + +CANTO XI + + +O thou Almighty Father, who dost make +The heavens thy dwelling, not in bounds confin’d, +But that with love intenser there thou view’st +Thy primal effluence, hallow’d be thy name: +Join each created being to extol +Thy might, for worthy humblest thanks and praise +Is thy blest Spirit. May thy kingdom’s peace +Come unto us; for we, unless it come, +With all our striving thither tend in vain. +As of their will the angels unto thee +Tender meet sacrifice, circling thy throne +With loud hosannas, so of theirs be done +By saintly men on earth. Grant us this day +Our daily manna, without which he roams +Through this rough desert retrograde, who most +Toils to advance his steps. As we to each +Pardon the evil done us, pardon thou +Benign, and of our merit take no count. +’Gainst the old adversary prove thou not +Our virtue easily subdu’d; but free +From his incitements and defeat his wiles. +This last petition, dearest Lord! is made +Not for ourselves, since that were needless now, +But for their sakes who after us remain.” + +Thus for themselves and us good speed imploring, +Those spirits went beneath a weight like that +We sometimes feel in dreams, all, sore beset, +But with unequal anguish, wearied all, +Round the first circuit, purging as they go, +The world’s gross darkness off: In our behalf +If there vows still be offer’d, what can here +For them be vow’d and done by such, whose wills +Have root of goodness in them? Well beseems +That we should help them wash away the stains +They carried hence, that so made pure and light, +They may spring upward to the starry spheres. + +“Ah! so may mercy-temper’d justice rid +Your burdens speedily, that ye have power +To stretch your wing, which e’en to your desire +Shall lift you, as ye show us on which hand +Toward the ladder leads the shortest way. +And if there be more passages than one, +Instruct us of that easiest to ascend; +For this man who comes with me, and bears yet +The charge of fleshly raiment Adam left him, +Despite his better will but slowly mounts.” +From whom the answer came unto these words, +Which my guide spake, appear’d not; but ’twas said + +“Along the bank to rightward come with us, +And ye shall find a pass that mocks not toil +Of living man to climb: and were it not +That I am hinder’d by the rock, wherewith +This arrogant neck is tam’d, whence needs I stoop +My visage to the ground, him, who yet lives, +Whose name thou speak’st not him I fain would view. +To mark if e’er I knew him? and to crave +His pity for the fardel that I bear. +I was of Latiun, of a Tuscan horn +A mighty one: Aldobranlesco’s name +My sire’s, I know not if ye e’er have heard. +My old blood and forefathers’ gallant deeds +Made me so haughty, that I clean forgot +The common mother, and to such excess, +Wax’d in my scorn of all men, that I fell, +Fell therefore; by what fate Sienna’s sons, +Each child in Campagnatico, can tell. +I am Omberto; not me only pride +Hath injur’d, but my kindred all involv’d +In mischief with her. Here my lot ordains +Under this weight to groan, till I appease +God’s angry justice, since I did it not +Amongst the living, here amongst the dead.” + +List’ning I bent my visage down: and one +(Not he who spake) twisted beneath the weight +That urg’d him, saw me, knew me straight, and call’d, +Holding his eyes With difficulty fix’d +Intent upon me, stooping as I went +Companion of their way. “O!” I exclaim’d, + +“Art thou not Oderigi, art not thou +Agobbio’s glory, glory of that art +Which they of Paris call the limmer’s skill?” + +“Brother!” said he, “with tints that gayer smile, +Bolognian Franco’s pencil lines the leaves. +His all the honour now; mine borrow’d light. +In truth I had not been thus courteous to him, +The whilst I liv’d, through eagerness of zeal +For that pre-eminence my heart was bent on. +Here of such pride the forfeiture is paid. +Nor were I even here; if, able still +To sin, I had not turn’d me unto God. +O powers of man! how vain your glory, nipp’d +E’en in its height of verdure, if an age +Less bright succeed not! Cimabue thought +To lord it over painting’s field; and now +The cry is Giotto’s, and his name eclips’d. +Thus hath one Guido from the other snatch’d +The letter’d prize: and he perhaps is born, +Who shall drive either from their nest. The noise +Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind, +That blows from divers points, and shifts its name +Shifting the point it blows from. Shalt thou more +Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh +Part shrivel’d from thee, than if thou hadst died, +Before the coral and the pap were left, +Or ere some thousand years have passed? and that +Is, to eternity compar’d, a space, +Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye +To the heaven’s slowest orb. He there who treads +So leisurely before me, far and wide +Through Tuscany resounded once; and now +Is in Sienna scarce with whispers nam’d: +There was he sov’reign, when destruction caught +The madd’ning rage of Florence, in that day +Proud as she now is loathsome. Your renown +Is as the herb, whose hue doth come and go, +And his might withers it, by whom it sprang +Crude from the lap of earth.” I thus to him: +“True are thy sayings: to my heart they breathe +The kindly spirit of meekness, and allay +What tumours rankle there. But who is he +Of whom thou spak’st but now?”—“This,” he replied, +“Is Provenzano. He is here, because +He reach’d, with grasp presumptuous, at the sway +Of all Sienna. Thus he still hath gone, +Thus goeth never-resting, since he died. +Such is th’ acquittance render’d back of him, +Who, beyond measure, dar’d on earth.” I then: +“If soul that to the verge of life delays +Repentance, linger in that lower space, +Nor hither mount, unless good prayers befriend, +How chanc’d admittance was vouchsaf’d to him?” + +“When at his glory’s topmost height,” said he, +“Respect of dignity all cast aside, +Freely He fix’d him on Sienna’s plain, +A suitor to redeem his suff’ring friend, +Who languish’d in the prison-house of Charles, +Nor for his sake refus’d through every vein +To tremble. More I will not say; and dark, +I know, my words are, but thy neighbours soon +Shall help thee to a comment on the text. +This is the work, that from these limits freed him.” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +With equal pace as oxen in the yoke, +I with that laden spirit journey’d on +Long as the mild instructor suffer’d me; +But when he bade me quit him, and proceed +(For “here,” said he, “behooves with sail and oars +Each man, as best he may, push on his bark”), +Upright, as one dispos’d for speed, I rais’d +My body, still in thought submissive bow’d. + +I now my leader’s track not loth pursued; +And each had shown how light we far’d along +When thus he warn’d me: “Bend thine eyesight down: +For thou to ease the way shall find it good +To ruminate the bed beneath thy feet.” + +As in memorial of the buried, drawn +Upon earth-level tombs, the sculptur’d form +Of what was once, appears (at sight whereof +Tears often stream forth by remembrance wak’d, +Whose sacred stings the piteous only feel), +So saw I there, but with more curious skill +Of portraiture o’erwrought, whate’er of space +From forth the mountain stretches. On one part +Him I beheld, above all creatures erst +Created noblest, light’ning fall from heaven: +On th’ other side with bolt celestial pierc’d +Briareus: cumb’ring earth he lay through dint +Of mortal ice-stroke. The Thymbraean god +With Mars, I saw, and Pallas, round their sire, +Arm’d still, and gazing on the giant’s limbs +Strewn o’er th’ ethereal field. Nimrod I saw: +At foot of the stupendous work he stood, +As if bewilder’d, looking on the crowd +Leagued in his proud attempt on Sennaar’s plain. + +O Niobe! in what a trance of woe +Thee I beheld, upon that highway drawn, +Sev’n sons on either side thee slain! O Saul! +How ghastly didst thou look! on thine own sword +Expiring in Gilboa, from that hour +Ne’er visited with rain from heav’n or dew! + +O fond Arachne! thee I also saw +Half spider now in anguish crawling up +Th’ unfinish’d web thou weaved’st to thy bane! + +O Rehoboam! here thy shape doth seem +Louring no more defiance! but fear-smote +With none to chase him in his chariot whirl’d. + +Was shown beside upon the solid floor +How dear Alcmaeon forc’d his mother rate +That ornament in evil hour receiv’d: +How in the temple on Sennacherib fell +His sons, and how a corpse they left him there. +Was shown the scath and cruel mangling made +By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried: +“Blood thou didst thirst for, take thy fill of blood!” +Was shown how routed in the battle fled +Th’ Assyrians, Holofernes slain, and e’en +The relics of the carnage. Troy I mark’d +In ashes and in caverns. Oh! how fall’n, +How abject, Ilion, was thy semblance there! + +What master of the pencil or the style +Had trac’d the shades and lines, that might have made +The subtlest workman wonder? Dead the dead, +The living seem’d alive; with clearer view +His eye beheld not who beheld the truth, +Than mine what I did tread on, while I went +Low bending. Now swell out; and with stiff necks +Pass on, ye sons of Eve! veil not your looks, +Lest they descry the evil of your path! + +I noted not (so busied was my thought) +How much we now had circled of the mount, +And of his course yet more the sun had spent, +When he, who with still wakeful caution went, +Admonish’d: “Raise thou up thy head: for know +Time is not now for slow suspense. Behold +That way an angel hasting towards us! Lo +Where duly the sixth handmaid doth return +From service on the day. Wear thou in look +And gesture seemly grace of reverent awe, +That gladly he may forward us aloft. +Consider that this day ne’er dawns again.” + +Time’s loss he had so often warn’d me ’gainst, +I could not miss the scope at which he aim’d. + +The goodly shape approach’d us, snowy white +In vesture, and with visage casting streams +Of tremulous lustre like the matin star. +His arms he open’d, then his wings; and spake: +“Onward: the steps, behold! are near; and now +Th’ ascent is without difficulty gain’d.” + +A scanty few are they, who when they hear +Such tidings, hasten. O ye race of men +Though born to soar, why suffer ye a wind +So slight to baffle ye? He led us on +Where the rock parted; here against my front +Did beat his wings, then promis’d I should fare +In safety on my way. As to ascend +That steep, upon whose brow the chapel stands +(O’er Rubaconte, looking lordly down +On the well-guided city,) up the right +Th’ impetuous rise is broken by the steps +Carv’d in that old and simple age, when still +The registry and label rested safe; +Thus is th’ acclivity reliev’d, which here +Precipitous from the other circuit falls: +But on each hand the tall cliff presses close. + +As ent’ring there we turn’d, voices, in strain +Ineffable, sang: “Blessed are the poor +In spirit.” Ah how far unlike to these +The straits of hell; here songs to usher us, +There shrieks of woe! We climb the holy stairs: +And lighter to myself by far I seem’d +Than on the plain before, whence thus I spake: +“Say, master, of what heavy thing have I +Been lighten’d, that scarce aught the sense of toil +Affects me journeying?” He in few replied: +“When sin’s broad characters, that yet remain +Upon thy temples, though well nigh effac’d, +Shall be, as one is, all clean razed out, +Then shall thy feet by heartiness of will +Be so o’ercome, they not alone shall feel +No sense of labour, but delight much more +Shall wait them urg’d along their upward way.” + +Then like to one, upon whose head is plac’d +Somewhat he deems not of but from the becks +Of others as they pass him by; his hand +Lends therefore help to’ assure him, searches, finds, +And well performs such office as the eye +Wants power to execute: so stretching forth +The fingers of my right hand, did I find +Six only of the letters, which his sword +Who bare the keys had trac’d upon my brow. +The leader, as he mark’d mine action, smil’d. + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +We reach’d the summit of the scale, and stood +Upon the second buttress of that mount +Which healeth him who climbs. A cornice there, +Like to the former, girdles round the hill; +Save that its arch with sweep less ample bends. + +Shadow nor image there is seen; all smooth +The rampart and the path, reflecting nought +But the rock’s sullen hue. “If here we wait +For some to question,” said the bard, “I fear +Our choice may haply meet too long delay.” + +Then fixedly upon the sun his eyes +He fastn’d, made his right the central point +From whence to move, and turn’d the left aside. +“O pleasant light, my confidence and hope, +Conduct us thou,” he cried, “on this new way, +Where now I venture, leading to the bourn +We seek. The universal world to thee +Owes warmth and lustre. If no other cause +Forbid, thy beams should ever be our guide.” + +Far, as is measur’d for a mile on earth, +In brief space had we journey’d; such prompt will +Impell’d; and towards us flying, now were heard +Spirits invisible, who courteously +Unto love’s table bade the welcome guest. +The voice, that first? flew by, call’d forth aloud, +“They have no wine; “ so on behind us past, +Those sounds reiterating, nor yet lost +In the faint distance, when another came +Crying, “I am Orestes,” and alike +Wing’d its fleet way. “Oh father!” I exclaim’d, +“What tongues are these?” and as I question’d, lo! +A third exclaiming, “Love ye those have wrong’d you.” + +“This circuit,” said my teacher, “knots the scourge +For envy, and the cords are therefore drawn +By charity’s correcting hand. The curb +Is of a harsher sound, as thou shalt hear +(If I deem rightly), ere thou reach the pass, +Where pardon sets them free. But fix thine eyes +Intently through the air, and thou shalt see +A multitude before thee seated, each +Along the shelving grot.” Then more than erst +I op’d my eyes, before me view’d, and saw +Shadows with garments dark as was the rock; +And when we pass’d a little forth, I heard +A crying, “Blessed Mary! pray for us, +Michael and Peter! all ye saintly host!” + +I do not think there walks on earth this day +Man so remorseless, that he hath not yearn’d +With pity at the sight that next I saw. +Mine eyes a load of sorrow teemed, when now +I stood so near them, that their semblances +Came clearly to my view. Of sackcloth vile +Their cov’ring seem’d; and on his shoulder one +Did stay another, leaning, and all lean’d +Against the cliff. E’en thus the blind and poor, +Near the confessionals, to crave an alms, +Stand, each his head upon his fellow’s sunk, +So most to stir compassion, not by sound +Of words alone, but that, which moves not less, +The sight of mis’ry. And as never beam +Of noonday visiteth the eyeless man, +E’en so was heav’n a niggard unto these +Of his fair light; for, through the orbs of all, +A thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up, +As for the taming of a haggard hawk. + +It were a wrong, methought, to pass and look +On others, yet myself the while unseen. +To my sage counsel therefore did I turn. +He knew the meaning of the mute appeal, +Nor waited for my questioning, but said: +“Speak; and be brief, be subtle in thy words.” + +On that part of the cornice, whence no rim +Engarlands its steep fall, did Virgil come; +On the’ other side me were the spirits, their cheeks +Bathing devout with penitential tears, +That through the dread impalement forc’d a way. + +I turn’d me to them, and “O shades!” said I, + +“Assur’d that to your eyes unveil’d shall shine +The lofty light, sole object of your wish, +So may heaven’s grace clear whatsoe’er of foam +Floats turbid on the conscience, that thenceforth +The stream of mind roll limpid from its source, +As ye declare (for so shall ye impart +A boon I dearly prize) if any soul +Of Latium dwell among ye; and perchance +That soul may profit, if I learn so much.” + +“My brother, we are each one citizens +Of one true city. Any thou wouldst say, +Who lived a stranger in Italia’s land.” + +So heard I answering, as appeal’d, a voice +That onward came some space from whence I stood. + +A spirit I noted, in whose look was mark’d +Expectance. Ask ye how? The chin was rais’d +As in one reft of sight. “Spirit,” said I, +“Who for thy rise are tutoring (if thou be +That which didst answer to me,) or by place +Or name, disclose thyself, that I may know thee.” + +“I was,” it answer’d, “of Sienna: here +I cleanse away with these the evil life, +Soliciting with tears that He, who is, +Vouchsafe him to us. Though Sapia nam’d +In sapience I excell’d not, gladder far +Of others’ hurt, than of the good befell me. +That thou mayst own I now deceive thee not, +Hear, if my folly were not as I speak it. +When now my years slop’d waning down the arch, +It so bechanc’d, my fellow citizens +Near Colle met their enemies in the field, +And I pray’d God to grant what He had will’d. +There were they vanquish’d, and betook themselves +Unto the bitter passages of flight. +I mark’d the hunt, and waxing out of bounds +In gladness, lifted up my shameless brow, +And like the merlin cheated by a gleam, +Cried, “It is over. Heav’n! I fear thee not.” +Upon my verge of life I wish’d for peace +With God; nor repentance had supplied +What I did lack of duty, were it not +The hermit Piero, touch’d with charity, +In his devout orisons thought on me. +But who art thou that question’st of our state, +Who go’st to my belief, with lids unclos’d, +And breathest in thy talk?”—“Mine eyes,” said I, +“May yet be here ta’en from me; but not long; +For they have not offended grievously +With envious glances. But the woe beneath +Urges my soul with more exceeding dread. +That nether load already weighs me down.” + +She thus: “Who then amongst us here aloft +Hath brought thee, if thou weenest to return?” + +“He,” answer’d I, “who standeth mute beside me. +I live: of me ask therefore, chosen spirit, +If thou desire I yonder yet should move +For thee my mortal feet.”—“Oh!” she replied, +“This is so strange a thing, it is great sign +That God doth love thee. Therefore with thy prayer +Sometime assist me: and by that I crave, +Which most thou covetest, that if thy feet +E’er tread on Tuscan soil, thou save my fame +Amongst my kindred. Them shalt thou behold +With that vain multitude, who set their hope +On Telamone’s haven, there to fail +Confounded, more shall when the fancied stream +They sought of Dian call’d: but they who lead +Their navies, more than ruin’d hopes shall mourn.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +“Say who is he around our mountain winds, +Or ever death has prun’d his wing for flight, +That opes his eyes and covers them at will?” + +“I know not who he is, but know thus much +He comes not singly. Do thou ask of him, +For thou art nearer to him, and take heed +Accost him gently, so that he may speak.” + +Thus on the right two Spirits bending each +Toward the other, talk’d of me, then both +Addressing me, their faces backward lean’d, +And thus the one began: “O soul, who yet +Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky! +For charity, we pray thee’ comfort us, +Recounting whence thou com’st, and who thou art: +For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee +Marvel, as at a thing that ne’er hath been.” + +“There stretches through the midst of Tuscany, +I straight began: “a brooklet, whose well-head +Springs up in Falterona, with his race +Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles +Hath measur’d. From his banks bring, I this frame. +To tell you who I am were words misspent: +For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour’s lip.” + +“If well I do incorp’rate with my thought +The meaning of thy speech,” said he, who first +Addrest me, “thou dost speak of Arno’s wave.” + +To whom the other: “Why hath he conceal’d +The title of that river, as a man +Doth of some horrible thing?” The spirit, who +Thereof was question’d, did acquit him thus: +“I know not: but ’tis fitting well the name +Should perish of that vale; for from the source +Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep +Maim’d of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass +Beyond that limit,) even to the point +Whereunto ocean is restor’d, what heaven +Drains from th’ exhaustless store for all earth’s streams, +Throughout the space is virtue worried down, +As ’twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe, +Or through disastrous influence on the place, +Or else distortion of misguided wills, +That custom goads to evil: whence in those, +The dwellers in that miserable vale, +Nature is so transform’d, it seems as they +Had shar’d of Circe’s feeding. ’Midst brute swine, +Worthier of acorns than of other food +Created for man’s use, he shapeth first +His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds +Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom +He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down, +By how much more the curst and luckless foss +Swells out to largeness, e’en so much it finds +Dogs turning into wolves. Descending still +Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets +A race of foxes, so replete with craft, +They do not fear that skill can master it. +Nor will I cease because my words are heard +By other ears than thine. It shall be well +For this man, if he keep in memory +What from no erring Spirit I reveal. +Lo! I behold thy grandson, that becomes +A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore +Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread: +Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale, +Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms. +Many of life he reaves, himself of worth +And goodly estimation. Smear’d with gore +Mark how he issues from the rueful wood, +Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years +It spreads not to prime lustihood again.” + +As one, who tidings hears of woe to come, +Changes his looks perturb’d, from whate’er part +The peril grasp him, so beheld I change +That spirit, who had turn’d to listen, struck +With sadness, soon as he had caught the word. + +His visage and the other’s speech did raise +Desire in me to know the names of both, +whereof with meek entreaty I inquir’d. + +The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum’d: +“Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do +For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine. +But since God’s will is that so largely shine +His grace in thee, I will be liberal too. +Guido of Duca know then that I am. +Envy so parch’d my blood, that had I seen +A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark’d +A livid paleness overspread my cheek. +Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow’d. +O man, why place thy heart where there doth need +Exclusion of participants in good? +This is Rinieri’s spirit, this the boast +And honour of the house of Calboli, +Where of his worth no heritage remains. +Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript +(’twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,) +Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss; +But in those limits such a growth has sprung +Of rank and venom’d roots, as long would mock +Slow culture’s toil. Where is good Lizio? where +Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna? +O bastard slips of old Romagna’s line! +When in Bologna the low artisan, +And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts, +A gentle cyon from ignoble stem. +Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep, +When I recall to mind those once lov’d names, +Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him +That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop, +With Traversaro’s house and Anastagio s, +(Each race disherited) and beside these, +The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease, +That witch’d us into love and courtesy; +Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts. +O Brettinoro! wherefore tarriest still, +Since forth of thee thy family hath gone, +And many, hating evil, join’d their steps? +Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease, +Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill, +And Conio worse, who care to propagate +A race of Counties from such blood as theirs. +Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then +When from amongst you tries your demon child. +Not so, howe’er, that henceforth there remain +True proof of what ye were. O Hugolin! +Thou sprung of Fantolini’s line! thy name +Is safe, since none is look’d for after thee +To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock. +But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take +Far more delight in weeping than in words. +Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart.” + +We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard +Our steps. Their silence therefore of our way +Assur’d us. Soon as we had quitted them, +Advancing onward, lo! a voice that seem’d +Like vollied light’ning, when it rives the air, +Met us, and shouted, “Whosoever finds +Will slay me,” then fled from us, as the bolt +Lanc’d sudden from a downward-rushing cloud. +When it had giv’n short truce unto our hearing, +Behold the other with a crash as loud +As the quick-following thunder: “Mark in me +Aglauros turn’d to rock.” I at the sound +Retreating drew more closely to my guide. + +Now in mute stillness rested all the air: +And thus he spake: “There was the galling bit. +But your old enemy so baits his hook, +He drags you eager to him. Hence nor curb +Avails you, nor reclaiming call. Heav’n calls +And round about you wheeling courts your gaze +With everlasting beauties. Yet your eye +Turns with fond doting still upon the earth. +Therefore He smites you who discerneth all.” + + + + +CANTO XV + + +As much as ’twixt the third hour’s close and dawn, +Appeareth of heav’n’s sphere, that ever whirls +As restless as an infant in his play, +So much appear’d remaining to the sun +Of his slope journey towards the western goal. + +Evening was there, and here the noon of night; +and full upon our forehead smote the beams. +For round the mountain, circling, so our path +Had led us, that toward the sun-set now +Direct we journey’d: when I felt a weight +Of more exceeding splendour, than before, +Press on my front. The cause unknown, amaze +Possess’d me, and both hands against my brow +Lifting, I interpos’d them, as a screen, +That of its gorgeous superflux of light +Clipp’d the diminish’d orb. As when the ray, +Striking On water or the surface clear +Of mirror, leaps unto the opposite part, +Ascending at a glance, e’en as it fell, +(And so much differs from the stone, that falls +Through equal space, as practice skill hath shown; +Thus with refracted light before me seemed +The ground there smitten; whence in sudden haste +My sight recoil’d. “What is this, sire belov’d! +’Gainst which I strive to shield the sight in vain?” +Cried I, “and which towards us moving seems?” + +“Marvel not, if the family of heav’n,” +He answer’d, “yet with dazzling radiance dim +Thy sense it is a messenger who comes, +Inviting man’s ascent. Such sights ere long, +Not grievous, shall impart to thee delight, +As thy perception is by nature wrought +Up to their pitch.” The blessed angel, soon +As we had reach’d him, hail’d us with glad voice: +“Here enter on a ladder far less steep +Than ye have yet encounter’d.” We forthwith +Ascending, heard behind us chanted sweet, +“Blessed the merciful,” and “happy thou! +That conquer’st.” Lonely each, my guide and I +Pursued our upward way; and as we went, +Some profit from his words I hop’d to win, +And thus of him inquiring, fram’d my speech: + +“What meant Romagna’s spirit, when he spake +Of bliss exclusive with no partner shar’d?” + +He straight replied: “No wonder, since he knows, +What sorrow waits on his own worst defect, +If he chide others, that they less may mourn. +Because ye point your wishes at a mark, +Where, by communion of possessors, part +Is lessen’d, envy bloweth up the sighs of men. +No fear of that might touch ye, if the love +Of higher sphere exalted your desire. +For there, by how much more they call it ours, +So much propriety of each in good +Increases more, and heighten’d charity +Wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame.” + +“Now lack I satisfaction more,” said I, +“Than if thou hadst been silent at the first, +And doubt more gathers on my lab’ring thought. +How can it chance, that good distributed, +The many, that possess it, makes more rich, +Than if ’twere shar’d by few?” He answering thus: +“Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth, +Strikes darkness from true light. The highest good +Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed +To love, as beam to lucid body darts, +Giving as much of ardour as it finds. +The sempiternal effluence streams abroad +Spreading, wherever charity extends. +So that the more aspirants to that bliss +Are multiplied, more good is there to love, +And more is lov’d; as mirrors, that reflect, +Each unto other, propagated light. +If these my words avail not to allay +Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see, +Who of this want, and of all else thou hast, +Shall rid thee to the full. Provide but thou +That from thy temples may be soon eras’d, +E’en as the two already, those five scars, +That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,” + +“Thou,” I had said, “content’st me,” when I saw +The other round was gain’d, and wond’ring eyes +Did keep me mute. There suddenly I seem’d +By an ecstatic vision wrapt away; +And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd +Of many persons; and at th’ entrance stood +A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express +A mother’s love, who said, “Child! why hast thou +Dealt with us thus? Behold thy sire and I +Sorrowing have sought thee;” and so held her peace, +And straight the vision fled. A female next +Appear’d before me, down whose visage cours’d +Those waters, that grief forces out from one +By deep resentment stung, who seem’d to say: +“If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed +Over this city, nam’d with such debate +Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles, +Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace +Hath clasp’d our daughter; “and to fuel, meseem’d, +Benign and meek, with visage undisturb’d, +Her sovran spake: “How shall we those requite, +Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn +The man that loves us?” After that I saw +A multitude, in fury burning, slay +With stones a stripling youth, and shout amain +“Destroy, destroy: “and him I saw, who bow’d +Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made +His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to heav’n, +Praying forgiveness of th’ Almighty Sire, +Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes, +With looks, that With compassion to their aim. + +Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight +Returning, sought again the things, whose truth +Depends not on her shaping, I observ’d +How she had rov’d to no unreal scenes + +Meanwhile the leader, who might see I mov’d, +As one, who struggles to shake off his sleep, +Exclaim’d: “What ails thee, that thou canst not hold +Thy footing firm, but more than half a league +Hast travel’d with clos’d eyes and tott’ring gait, +Like to a man by wine or sleep o’ercharg’d?” + +“Beloved father! so thou deign,” said I, +“To listen, I will tell thee what appear’d +Before me, when so fail’d my sinking steps.” + +He thus: “Not if thy Countenance were mask’d +With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine +How small soe’er, elude me. What thou saw’st +Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart +To the waters of peace, that flow diffus’d +From their eternal fountain. I not ask’d, +What ails thee? for such cause as he doth, who +Looks only with that eye which sees no more, +When spiritless the body lies; but ask’d, +To give fresh vigour to thy foot. Such goads +The slow and loit’ring need; that they be found +Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns.” + +So on we journey’d through the evening sky +Gazing intent, far onward, as our eyes +With level view could stretch against the bright +Vespertine ray: and lo! by slow degrees +Gath’ring, a fog made tow’rds us, dark as night. +There was no room for ’scaping; and that mist +Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air. + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +Hell’s dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark, +Of every planes ’reft, and pall’d in clouds, +Did never spread before the sight a veil +In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense +So palpable and gross. Ent’ring its shade, +Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids; +Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide, +Offering me his shoulder for a stay. + +As the blind man behind his leader walks, +Lest he should err, or stumble unawares +On what might harm him, or perhaps destroy, +I journey’d through that bitter air and foul, +Still list’ning to my escort’s warning voice, +“Look that from me thou part not.” Straight I heard +Voices, and each one seem’d to pray for peace, +And for compassion, to the Lamb of God +That taketh sins away. Their prelude still +Was “Agnus Dei,” and through all the choir, +One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem’d +The concord of their song. “Are these I hear +Spirits, O master?” I exclaim’d; and he: +“Thou aim’st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath.” + +“Now who art thou, that through our smoke dost cleave? +And speak’st of us, as thou thyself e’en yet +Dividest time by calends?” So one voice +Bespake me; whence my master said: “Reply; +And ask, if upward hence the passage lead.” + +“O being! who dost make thee pure, to stand +Beautiful once more in thy Maker’s sight! +Along with me: and thou shalt hear and wonder.” +Thus I, whereto the spirit answering spake: +“Long as ’tis lawful for me, shall my steps +Follow on thine; and since the cloudy smoke +Forbids the seeing, hearing in its stead +Shall keep us join’d.” I then forthwith began +“Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend +To higher regions, and am hither come +Through the fearful agony of hell. +And, if so largely God hath doled his grace, +That, clean beside all modern precedent, +He wills me to behold his kingly state, +From me conceal not who thou wast, ere death +Had loos’d thee; but instruct me: and instruct +If rightly to the pass I tend; thy words +The way directing as a safe escort.” + +“I was of Lombardy, and Marco call’d: +Not inexperienc’d of the world, that worth +I still affected, from which all have turn’d +The nerveless bow aside. Thy course tends right +Unto the summit:” and, replying thus, +He added, “I beseech thee pray for me, +When thou shalt come aloft.” And I to him: +“Accept my faith for pledge I will perform +What thou requirest. Yet one doubt remains, +That wrings me sorely, if I solve it not, +Singly before it urg’d me, doubled now +By thine opinion, when I couple that +With one elsewhere declar’d, each strength’ning other. +The world indeed is even so forlorn +Of all good as thou speak’st it and so swarms +With every evil. Yet, beseech thee, point +The cause out to me, that myself may see, +And unto others show it: for in heaven +One places it, and one on earth below.” + +Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh, +“Brother!” he thus began, “the world is blind; +And thou in truth com’st from it. Ye, who live, +Do so each cause refer to heav’n above, +E’en as its motion of necessity +Drew with it all that moves. If this were so, +Free choice in you were none; nor justice would +There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill. +Your movements have their primal bent from heaven; +Not all; yet said I all; what then ensues? +Light have ye still to follow evil or good, +And of the will free power, which, if it stand +Firm and unwearied in Heav’n’s first assay, +Conquers at last, so it be cherish’d well, +Triumphant over all. To mightier force, +To better nature subject, ye abide +Free, not constrain’d by that, which forms in you +The reasoning mind uninfluenc’d of the stars. +If then the present race of mankind err, +Seek in yourselves the cause, and find it there. +Herein thou shalt confess me no false spy. + +“Forth from his plastic hand, who charm’d beholds +Her image ere she yet exist, the soul +Comes like a babe, that wantons sportively +Weeping and laughing in its wayward moods, +As artless and as ignorant of aught, +Save that her Maker being one who dwells +With gladness ever, willingly she turns +To whate’er yields her joy. Of some slight good +The flavour soon she tastes; and, snar’d by that, +With fondness she pursues it, if no guide +Recall, no rein direct her wand’ring course. +Hence it behov’d, the law should be a curb; +A sovereign hence behov’d, whose piercing view +Might mark at least the fortress and main tower +Of the true city. Laws indeed there are: +But who is he observes them? None; not he, +Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock, +Who chews the cud but doth not cleave the hoof. +Therefore the multitude, who see their guide +Strike at the very good they covet most, +Feed there and look no further. Thus the cause +Is not corrupted nature in yourselves, +But ill-conducting, that hath turn’d the world +To evil. Rome, that turn’d it unto good, +Was wont to boast two suns, whose several beams +Cast light on either way, the world’s and God’s. +One since hath quench’d the other; and the sword +Is grafted on the crook; and so conjoin’d +Each must perforce decline to worse, unaw’d +By fear of other. If thou doubt me, mark +The blade: each herb is judg’d of by its seed. +That land, through which Adice and the Po +Their waters roll, was once the residence +Of courtesy and velour, ere the day, +That frown’d on Frederick; now secure may pass +Those limits, whosoe’er hath left, for shame, +To talk with good men, or come near their haunts. +Three aged ones are still found there, in whom +The old time chides the new: these deem it long +Ere God restore them to a better world: +The good Gherardo, of Palazzo he +Conrad, and Guido of Castello, nam’d +In Gallic phrase more fitly the plain Lombard. +On this at last conclude. The church of Rome, +Mixing two governments that ill assort, +Hath miss’d her footing, fall’n into the mire, +And there herself and burden much defil’d.” + +“O Marco!” I replied, shine arguments +Convince me: and the cause I now discern +Why of the heritage no portion came +To Levi’s offspring. But resolve me this +Who that Gherardo is, that as thou sayst +Is left a sample of the perish’d race, +And for rebuke to this untoward age?” + +“Either thy words,” said he, “deceive; or else +Are meant to try me; that thou, speaking Tuscan, +Appear’st not to have heard of good Gherado; +The sole addition that, by which I know him; +Unless I borrow’d from his daughter Gaia +Another name to grace him. God be with you. +I bear you company no more. Behold +The dawn with white ray glimm’ring through the mist. +I must away—the angel comes—ere he +Appear.” He said, and would not hear me more. + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +Call to remembrance, reader, if thou e’er +Hast, on a mountain top, been ta’en by cloud, +Through which thou saw’st no better, than the mole +Doth through opacous membrane; then, whene’er +The wat’ry vapours dense began to melt +Into thin air, how faintly the sun’s sphere +Seem’d wading through them; so thy nimble thought +May image, how at first I re-beheld +The sun, that bedward now his couch o’erhung. + +Thus with my leader’s feet still equaling pace +From forth that cloud I came, when now expir’d +The parting beams from off the nether shores. + +O quick and forgetive power! that sometimes dost +So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark +Though round about us thousand trumpets clang! +What moves thee, if the senses stir not? Light +Kindled in heav’n, spontaneous, self-inform’d, +Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse +By will divine. Portray’d before me came +The traces of her dire impiety, +Whose form was chang’d into the bird, that most +Delights itself in song: and here my mind +Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place +To aught that ask’d admittance from without. + +Next shower’d into my fantasy a shape +As of one crucified, whose visage spake +Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died; +And round him Ahasuerus the great king, +Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just, +Blameless in word and deed. As of itself +That unsubstantial coinage of the brain +Burst, like a bubble, Which the water fails +That fed it; in my vision straight uprose +A damsel weeping loud, and cried, “O queen! +O mother! wherefore has intemperate ire +Driv’n thee to loath thy being? Not to lose +Lavinia, desp’rate thou hast slain thyself. +Now hast thou lost me. I am she, whose tears +Mourn, ere I fall, a mother’s timeless end.” + +E’en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly +New radiance strike upon the closed lids, +The broken slumber quivering ere it dies; +Thus from before me sunk that imagery +Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck +The light, outshining far our earthly beam. +As round I turn’d me to survey what place +I had arriv’d at, “Here ye mount,” exclaim’d +A voice, that other purpose left me none, +Save will so eager to behold who spake, +I could not choose but gaze. As ’fore the sun, +That weighs our vision down, and veils his form +In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail’d +Unequal. “This is Spirit from above, +Who marshals us our upward way, unsought; +And in his own light shrouds him;. As a man +Doth for himself, so now is done for us. +For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need +Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepar’d +For blunt denial, ere the suit be made. +Refuse we not to lend a ready foot +At such inviting: haste we to ascend, +Before it darken: for we may not then, +Till morn again return.” So spake my guide; +And to one ladder both address’d our steps; +And the first stair approaching, I perceiv’d +Near me as ’twere the waving of a wing, +That fann’d my face and whisper’d: “Blessed they +The peacemakers: they know not evil wrath.” + +Now to such height above our heads were rais’d +The last beams, follow’d close by hooded night, +That many a star on all sides through the gloom +Shone out. “Why partest from me, O my strength?” +So with myself I commun’d; for I felt +My o’ertoil’d sinews slacken. We had reach’d +The summit, and were fix’d like to a bark +Arriv’d at land. And waiting a short space, +If aught should meet mine ear in that new round, +Then to my guide I turn’d, and said: “Lov’d sire! +Declare what guilt is on this circle purg’d. +If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause.” + +He thus to me: “The love of good, whate’er +Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils. +Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter’d ill. +But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand, +Give ear unto my words, and thou shalt cull +Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay. + +“Creator, nor created being, ne’er, +My son,” he thus began, “was without love, +Or natural, or the free spirit’s growth. +Thou hast not that to learn. The natural still +Is without error; but the other swerves, +If on ill object bent, or through excess +Of vigour, or defect. While e’er it seeks +The primal blessings, or with measure due +Th’ inferior, no delight, that flows from it, +Partakes of ill. But let it warp to evil, +Or with more ardour than behooves, or less. +Pursue the good, the thing created then +Works ’gainst its Maker. Hence thou must infer +That love is germin of each virtue in ye, +And of each act no less, that merits pain. +Now since it may not be, but love intend +The welfare mainly of the thing it loves, +All from self-hatred are secure; and since +No being can be thought t’ exist apart +And independent of the first, a bar +Of equal force restrains from hating that. + +“Grant the distinction just; and it remains +The’ evil must be another’s, which is lov’d. +Three ways such love is gender’d in your clay. +There is who hopes (his neighbour’s worth deprest,) +Preeminence himself, and coverts hence +For his own greatness that another fall. +There is who so much fears the loss of power, +Fame, favour, glory (should his fellow mount +Above him), and so sickens at the thought, +He loves their opposite: and there is he, +Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame +That he doth thirst for vengeance, and such needs +Must doat on other’s evil. Here beneath +This threefold love is mourn’d. Of th’ other sort +Be now instructed, that which follows good +But with disorder’d and irregular course. + +“All indistinctly apprehend a bliss +On which the soul may rest, the hearts of all +Yearn after it, and to that wished bourn +All therefore strive to tend. If ye behold +Or seek it with a love remiss and lax, +This cornice after just repenting lays +Its penal torment on ye. Other good +There is, where man finds not his happiness: +It is not true fruition, not that blest +Essence, of every good the branch and root. +The love too lavishly bestow’d on this, +Along three circles over us, is mourn’d. +Account of that division tripartite +Expect not, fitter for thine own research. + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +The teacher ended, and his high discourse +Concluding, earnest in my looks inquir’d +If I appear’d content; and I, whom still +Unsated thirst to hear him urg’d, was mute, +Mute outwardly, yet inwardly I said: +“Perchance my too much questioning offends +But he, true father, mark’d the secret wish +By diffidence restrain’d, and speaking, gave +Me boldness thus to speak: “Master, my Sight +Gathers so lively virtue from thy beams, +That all, thy words convey, distinct is seen. +Wherefore I pray thee, father, whom this heart +Holds dearest! thou wouldst deign by proof t’ unfold +That love, from which as from their source thou bring’st +All good deeds and their opposite.” He then: +“To what I now disclose be thy clear ken +Directed, and thou plainly shalt behold +How much those blind have err’d, who make themselves +The guides of men. The soul, created apt +To love, moves versatile which way soe’er +Aught pleasing prompts her, soon as she is wak’d +By pleasure into act. Of substance true +Your apprehension forms its counterfeit, +And in you the ideal shape presenting +Attracts the soul’s regard. If she, thus drawn, +incline toward it, love is that inclining, +And a new nature knit by pleasure in ye. +Then as the fire points up, and mounting seeks +His birth-place and his lasting seat, e’en thus +Enters the captive soul into desire, +Which is a spiritual motion, that ne’er rests +Before enjoyment of the thing it loves. +Enough to show thee, how the truth from those +Is hidden, who aver all love a thing +Praise-worthy in itself: although perhaps +Its substance seem still good. Yet if the wax +Be good, it follows not th’ impression must.” +“What love is,” I return’d, “thy words, O guide! +And my own docile mind, reveal. Yet thence +New doubts have sprung. For from without if love +Be offer’d to us, and the spirit knows +No other footing, tend she right or wrong, +Is no desert of hers.” He answering thus: +“What reason here discovers I have power +To show thee: that which lies beyond, expect +From Beatrice, faith not reason’s task. +Spirit, substantial form, with matter join’d +Not in confusion mix’d, hath in itself +Specific virtue of that union born, +Which is not felt except it work, nor prov’d +But through effect, as vegetable life +By the green leaf. From whence his intellect +Deduced its primal notices of things, +Man therefore knows not, or his appetites +Their first affections; such in you, as zeal +In bees to gather honey; at the first, +Volition, meriting nor blame nor praise. +But o’er each lower faculty supreme, +That as she list are summon’d to her bar, +Ye have that virtue in you, whose just voice +Uttereth counsel, and whose word should keep +The threshold of assent. Here is the source, +Whence cause of merit in you is deriv’d, +E’en as the affections good or ill she takes, +Or severs, winnow’d as the chaff. Those men +Who reas’ning went to depth profoundest, mark’d +That innate freedom, and were thence induc’d +To leave their moral teaching to the world. +Grant then, that from necessity arise +All love that glows within you; to dismiss +Or harbour it, the pow’r is in yourselves. +Remember, Beatrice, in her style, +Denominates free choice by eminence +The noble virtue, if in talk with thee +She touch upon that theme.” The moon, well nigh +To midnight hour belated, made the stars +Appear to wink and fade; and her broad disk +Seem’d like a crag on fire, as up the vault +That course she journey’d, which the sun then warms, +When they of Rome behold him at his set. +Betwixt Sardinia and the Corsic isle. +And now the weight, that hung upon my thought, +Was lighten’d by the aid of that clear spirit, +Who raiseth Andes above Mantua’s name. +I therefore, when my questions had obtain’d +Solution plain and ample, stood as one +Musing in dreary slumber; but not long +Slumber’d; for suddenly a multitude, +The steep already turning, from behind, +Rush’d on. With fury and like random rout, +As echoing on their shores at midnight heard +Ismenus and Asopus, for his Thebes +If Bacchus’ help were needed; so came these +Tumultuous, curving each his rapid step, +By eagerness impell’d of holy love. + +Soon they o’ertook us; with such swiftness mov’d +The mighty crowd. Two spirits at their head +Cried weeping; “Blessed Mary sought with haste +The hilly region. Caesar to subdue +Ilerda, darted in Marseilles his sting, +And flew to Spain.”—“Oh tarry not: away;” +The others shouted; “let not time be lost +Through slackness of affection. Hearty zeal +To serve reanimates celestial grace.” + +“O ye, in whom intenser fervency +Haply supplies, where lukewarm erst ye fail’d, +Slow or neglectful, to absolve your part +Of good and virtuous, this man, who yet lives, +(Credit my tale, though strange) desires t’ ascend, +So morning rise to light us. Therefore say +Which hand leads nearest to the rifted rock?” + +So spake my guide, to whom a shade return’d: +“Come after us, and thou shalt find the cleft. +We may not linger: such resistless will +Speeds our unwearied course. Vouchsafe us then +Thy pardon, if our duty seem to thee +Discourteous rudeness. In Verona I +Was abbot of San Zeno, when the hand +Of Barbarossa grasp’d Imperial sway, +That name, ne’er utter’d without tears in Milan. +And there is he, hath one foot in his grave, +Who for that monastery ere long shall weep, +Ruing his power misus’d: for that his son, +Of body ill compact, and worse in mind, +And born in evil, he hath set in place +Of its true pastor.” Whether more he spake, +Or here was mute, I know not: he had sped +E’en now so far beyond us. Yet thus much +I heard, and in rememb’rance treasur’d it. + +He then, who never fail’d me at my need, +Cried, “Hither turn. Lo! two with sharp remorse +Chiding their sin!” In rear of all the troop +These shouted: “First they died, to whom the sea +Open’d, or ever Jordan saw his heirs: +And they, who with Aeneas to the end +Endur’d not suffering, for their portion chose +Life without glory.” Soon as they had fled +Past reach of sight, new thought within me rose +By others follow’d fast, and each unlike +Its fellow: till led on from thought to thought, +And pleasur’d with the fleeting train, mine eye +Was clos’d, and meditation chang’d to dream. + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +It was the hour, when of diurnal heat +No reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon, +O’erpower’d by earth, or planetary sway +Of Saturn; and the geomancer sees +His Greater Fortune up the east ascend, +Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone; +When ’fore me in my dream a woman’s shape +There came, with lips that stammer’d, eyes aslant, +Distorted feet, hands maim’d, and colour pale. + +I look’d upon her; and as sunshine cheers +Limbs numb’d by nightly cold, e’en thus my look +Unloos’d her tongue, next in brief space her form +Decrepit rais’d erect, and faded face +With love’s own hue illum’d. Recov’ring speech +She forthwith warbling such a strain began, +That I, how loth soe’er, could scarce have held +Attention from the song. “I,” thus she sang, +“I am the Siren, she, whom mariners +On the wide sea are wilder’d when they hear: +Such fulness of delight the list’ner feels. +I from his course Ulysses by my lay +Enchanted drew. Whoe’er frequents me once +Parts seldom; so I charm him, and his heart +Contented knows no void.” Or ere her mouth +Was clos’d, to shame her at her side appear’d +A dame of semblance holy. With stern voice +She utter’d; “Say, O Virgil, who is this?” +Which hearing, he approach’d, with eyes still bent +Toward that goodly presence: th’ other seiz’d her, +And, her robes tearing, open’d her before, +And show’d the belly to me, whence a smell, +Exhaling loathsome, wak’d me. Round I turn’d +Mine eyes, and thus the teacher: “At the least +Three times my voice hath call’d thee. Rise, begone. +Let us the opening find where thou mayst pass.” + +I straightway rose. Now day, pour’d down from high, +Fill’d all the circuits of the sacred mount; +And, as we journey’d, on our shoulder smote +The early ray. I follow’d, stooping low +My forehead, as a man, o’ercharg’d with thought, +Who bends him to the likeness of an arch, +That midway spans the flood; when thus I heard, +“Come, enter here,” in tone so soft and mild, +As never met the ear on mortal strand. + +With swan-like wings dispread and pointing up, +Who thus had spoken marshal’d us along, +Where each side of the solid masonry +The sloping, walls retir’d; then mov’d his plumes, +And fanning us, affirm’d that those, who mourn, +Are blessed, for that comfort shall be theirs. + +“What aileth thee, that still thou look’st to earth?” +Began my leader; while th’ angelic shape +A little over us his station took. + +“New vision,” I replied, “hath rais’d in me +8urmisings strange and anxious doubts, whereon +My soul intent allows no other thought +Or room or entrance.—“Hast thou seen,” said he, +“That old enchantress, her, whose wiles alone +The spirits o’er us weep for? Hast thou seen +How man may free him of her bonds? Enough. +Let thy heels spurn the earth, and thy rais’d ken +Fix on the lure, which heav’n’s eternal King +Whirls in the rolling spheres.” As on his feet +The falcon first looks down, then to the sky +Turns, and forth stretches eager for the food, +That woos him thither; so the call I heard, +So onward, far as the dividing rock +Gave way, I journey’d, till the plain was reach’d. + +On the fifth circle when I stood at large, +A race appear’d before me, on the ground +All downward lying prone and weeping sore. +“My soul hath cleaved to the dust,” I heard +With sighs so deep, they well nigh choak’d the words. +“O ye elect of God, whose penal woes +Both hope and justice mitigate, direct +Tow’rds the steep rising our uncertain way.” + +“If ye approach secure from this our doom, +Prostration—and would urge your course with speed, +See that ye still to rightward keep the brink.” + +So them the bard besought; and such the words, +Beyond us some short space, in answer came. + +I noted what remain’d yet hidden from them: +Thence to my liege’s eyes mine eyes I bent, +And he, forthwith interpreting their suit, +Beckon’d his glad assent. Free then to act, +As pleas’d me, I drew near, and took my stand +O`er that shade, whose words I late had mark’d. +And, “Spirit!” I said, “in whom repentant tears +Mature that blessed hour, when thou with God +Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend +For me that mightier care. Say who thou wast, +Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone, +And if in aught ye wish my service there, +Whence living I am come.” He answering spake +“The cause why Heav’n our back toward his cope +Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first +The successor of Peter, and the name +And title of my lineage from that stream, +That’ twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws +His limpid waters through the lowly glen. +A month and little more by proof I learnt, +With what a weight that robe of sov’reignty +Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire +Would guard it: that each other fardel seems +But feathers in the balance. Late, alas! +Was my conversion: but when I became +Rome’s pastor, I discern’d at once the dream +And cozenage of life, saw that the heart +Rested not there, and yet no prouder height +Lur’d on the climber: wherefore, of that life +No more enamour’d, in my bosom love +Of purer being kindled. For till then +I was a soul in misery, alienate +From God, and covetous of all earthly things; +Now, as thou seest, here punish’d for my doting. +Such cleansing from the taint of avarice +Do spirits converted need. This mount inflicts +No direr penalty. E’en as our eyes +Fasten’d below, nor e’er to loftier clime +Were lifted, thus hath justice level’d us +Here on the earth. As avarice quench’d our love +Of good, without which is no working, thus +Here justice holds us prison’d, hand and foot +Chain’d down and bound, while heaven’s just Lord shall please. +So long to tarry motionless outstretch’d.” + +My knees I stoop’d, and would have spoke; but he, +Ere my beginning, by his ear perceiv’d +I did him reverence; and “What cause,” said he, +“Hath bow’d thee thus!”—” Compunction,” I rejoin’d. +“And inward awe of your high dignity.” + +“Up,” he exclaim’d, “brother! upon thy feet +Arise: err not: thy fellow servant I, +(Thine and all others’) of one Sovran Power. +If thou hast ever mark’d those holy sounds +Of gospel truth, ‘nor shall be given ill marriage,’ +Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech. +Go thy ways now; and linger here no more. +Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears, +With which I hasten that whereof thou spak’st. +I have on earth a kinswoman; her name +Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill +Example of our house corrupt her not: +And she is all remaineth of me there.” + + + + +CANTO XX + + +Ill strives the will, ’gainst will more wise that strives +His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr’d, +I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave. + +Onward I mov’d: he also onward mov’d, +Who led me, coasting still, wherever place +Along the rock was vacant, as a man +Walks near the battlements on narrow wall. +For those on th’ other part, who drop by drop +Wring out their all-infecting malady, +Too closely press the verge. Accurst be thou! +Inveterate wolf! whose gorge ingluts more prey, +Than every beast beside, yet is not fill’d! +So bottomless thy maw!—Ye spheres of heaven! +To whom there are, as seems, who attribute +All change in mortal state, when is the day +Of his appearing, for whom fate reserves +To chase her hence?—With wary steps and slow +We pass’d; and I attentive to the shades, +Whom piteously I heard lament and wail; +And, ’midst the wailing, one before us heard +Cry out “O blessed Virgin!” as a dame +In the sharp pangs of childbed; and “How poor +Thou wast,” it added, “witness that low roof +Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down. +O good Fabricius! thou didst virtue choose +With poverty, before great wealth with vice.” + +The words so pleas’d me, that desire to know +The spirit, from whose lip they seem’d to come, +Did draw me onward. Yet it spake the gift +Of Nicholas, which on the maidens he +Bounteous bestow’d, to save their youthful prime +Unblemish’d. “Spirit! who dost speak of deeds +So worthy, tell me who thou was,” I said, +“And why thou dost with single voice renew +Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsaf’d +Haply shall meet reward; if I return +To finish the Short pilgrimage of life, +Still speeding to its close on restless wing.” + +“I,” answer’d he, “will tell thee, not for hell, +Which thence I look for; but that in thyself +Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time +Of mortal dissolution. I was root +Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds +O’er all the Christian land, that seldom thence +Good fruit is gather’d. Vengeance soon should come, +Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power; +And vengeance I of heav’n’s great Judge implore. +Hugh Capet was I high: from me descend +The Philips and the Louis, of whom France +Newly is govern’d; born of one, who ply’d +The slaughterer’s trade at Paris. When the race +Of ancient kings had vanish’d (all save one +Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe +I found the reins of empire, and such powers +Of new acquirement, with full store of friends, +That soon the widow’d circlet of the crown +Was girt upon the temples of my son, +He, from whose bones th’ anointed race begins. +Till the great dower of Provence had remov’d +The stains, that yet obscur’d our lowly blood, +Its sway indeed was narrow, but howe’er +It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies, +Began its rapine; after, for amends, +Poitou it seiz’d, Navarre and Gascony. +To Italy came Charles, and for amends +Young Conradine an innocent victim slew, +And sent th’ angelic teacher back to heav’n, +Still for amends. I see the time at hand, +That forth from France invites another Charles +To make himself and kindred better known. +Unarm’d he issues, saving with that lance, +Which the arch-traitor tilted with; and that +He carries with so home a thrust, as rives +The bowels of poor Florence. No increase +Of territory hence, but sin and shame +Shall be his guerdon, and so much the more +As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong. +I see the other, who a prisoner late +Had steps on shore, exposing to the mart +His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do +The Corsairs for their slaves. O avarice! +What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood +So wholly to thyself, they feel no care +Of their own flesh? To hide with direr guilt +Past ill and future, lo! the flower-de-luce +Enters Alagna! in his Vicar Christ +Himself a captive, and his mockery +Acted again! Lo! to his holy lip +The vinegar and gall once more applied! +And he ’twixt living robbers doom’d to bleed! +Lo! the new Pilate, of whose cruelty +Such violence cannot fill the measure up, +With no degree to sanction, pushes on +Into the temple his yet eager sails! + +“O sovran Master! when shall I rejoice +To see the vengeance, which thy wrath well-pleas’d +In secret silence broods?—While daylight lasts, +So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse +Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn’dst +To me for comment, is the general theme +Of all our prayers: but when it darkens, then +A different strain we utter, then record +Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold +Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes +Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued, +Mark’d for derision to all future times: +And the fond Achan, how he stole the prey, +That yet he seems by Joshua’s ire pursued. +Sapphira with her husband next, we blame; +And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp +Spurn’d Heliodorus. All the mountain round +Rings with the infamy of Thracia’s king, +Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout +Ascends: “Declare, O Crassus! for thou know’st, +The flavour of thy gold.” The voice of each +Now high now low, as each his impulse prompts, +Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave. +Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehears’d +That blessedness we tell of in the day: +But near me none beside his accent rais’d.” + +From him we now had parted, and essay’d +With utmost efforts to surmount the way, +When I did feel, as nodding to its fall, +The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill +Seiz’d on me, as on one to death convey’d. +So shook not Delos, when Latona there +Couch’d to bring forth the twin-born eyes of heaven. + +Forthwith from every side a shout arose +So vehement, that suddenly my guide +Drew near, and cried: “Doubt not, while I conduct thee.” +“Glory!” all shouted (such the sounds mine ear +Gather’d from those, who near me swell’d the sounds) +“Glory in the highest be to God.” We stood +Immovably suspended, like to those, +The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem’s field +That song: till ceas’d the trembling, and the song +Was ended: then our hallow’d path resum’d, +Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew’d +Their custom’d mourning. Never in my breast +Did ignorance so struggle with desire +Of knowledge, if my memory do not err, +As in that moment; nor through haste dar’d I +To question, nor myself could aught discern, +So on I far’d in thoughtfulness and dread. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +The natural thirst, ne’er quench’d but from the well, +Whereof the woman of Samaria crav’d, +Excited: haste along the cumber’d path, +After my guide, impell’d; and pity mov’d +My bosom for the ’vengeful deed, though just. +When lo! even as Luke relates, that Christ +Appear’d unto the two upon their way, +New-risen from his vaulted grave; to us +A shade appear’d, and after us approach’d, +Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet. +We were not ware of it; so first it spake, +Saying, “God give you peace, my brethren!” then +Sudden we turn’d: and Virgil such salute, +As fitted that kind greeting, gave, and cried: +“Peace in the blessed council be thy lot +Awarded by that righteous court, which me +To everlasting banishment exiles!” + +“How!” he exclaim’d, nor from his speed meanwhile +Desisting, “If that ye be spirits, whom God +Vouchsafes not room above, who up the height +Has been thus far your guide?” To whom the bard: +“If thou observe the tokens, which this man +Trac’d by the finger of the angel bears, +’Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just +He needs must share. But sithence she, whose wheel +Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn +That yarn, which, on the fatal distaff pil’d, +Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes, +His soul, that sister is to mine and thine, +Not of herself could mount, for not like ours +Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf +Of hell was ta’en, to lead him, and will lead +Far as my lore avails. But, if thou know, +Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile +Thus shook and trembled: wherefore all at once +Seem’d shouting, even from his wave-wash’d foot.” + +That questioning so tallied with my wish, +The thirst did feel abatement of its edge +E’en from expectance. He forthwith replied, +“In its devotion nought irregular +This mount can witness, or by punctual rule +Unsanction’d; here from every change exempt. +Other than that, which heaven in itself +Doth of itself receive, no influence +Can reach us. Tempest none, shower, hail or snow, +Hoar frost or dewy moistness, higher falls +Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds +Nor scudding rack are ever seen: swift glance +Ne’er lightens, nor Thaumantian Iris gleams, +That yonder often shift on each side heav’n. +Vapour adust doth never mount above +The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon +Peter’s vicegerent stands. Lower perchance, +With various motion rock’d, trembles the soil: +But here, through wind in earth’s deep hollow pent, +I know not how, yet never trembled: then +Trembles, when any spirit feels itself +So purified, that it may rise, or move +For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues. +Purification by the will alone +Is prov’d, that free to change society +Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will. +Desire of bliss is present from the first; +But strong propension hinders, to that wish +By the just ordinance of heav’n oppos’d; +Propension now as eager to fulfil +Th’ allotted torment, as erewhile to sin. +And I who in this punishment had lain +Five hundred years and more, but now have felt +Free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt’st +The mountain tremble, and the spirits devout +Heard’st, over all his limits, utter praise +To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy +To hasten.” Thus he spake: and since the draught +Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen, +No words may speak my fullness of content. + +“Now,” said the instructor sage, “I see the net +That takes ye here, and how the toils are loos’d, +Why rocks the mountain and why ye rejoice. +Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn, +Who on the earth thou wast, and wherefore here +So many an age wert prostrate.”—“In that time, +When the good Titus, with Heav’n’s King to help, +Aveng’d those piteous gashes, whence the blood +By Judas sold did issue, with the name +Most lasting and most honour’d there was I +Abundantly renown’d,” the shade reply’d, +“Not yet with faith endued. So passing sweet +My vocal Spirit, from Tolosa, Rome +To herself drew me, where I merited +A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow. +Statius they name me still. Of Thebes I sang, +And next of great Achilles: but i’ th’ way +Fell with the second burthen. Of my flame +Those sparkles were the seeds, which I deriv’d +From the bright fountain of celestial fire +That feeds unnumber’d lamps, the song I mean +Which sounds Aeneas’ wand’rings: that the breast +I hung at, that the nurse, from whom my veins +Drank inspiration: whose authority +Was ever sacred with me. To have liv’d +Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide +The revolution of another sun +Beyond my stated years in banishment.” + +The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn’d to me, +And holding silence: by his countenance +Enjoin’d me silence but the power which wills, +Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears +Follow so closely on the passion prompts them, +They wait not for the motions of the will +In natures most sincere. I did but smile, +As one who winks; and thereupon the shade +Broke off, and peer’d into mine eyes, where best +Our looks interpret. “So to good event +Mayst thou conduct such great emprize,” he cried, +“Say, why across thy visage beam’d, but now, +The lightning of a smile!” On either part +Now am I straiten’d; one conjures me speak, +Th’ other to silence binds me: whence a sigh +I utter, and the sigh is heard. “Speak on; “ +The teacher cried; “and do not fear to speak, +But tell him what so earnestly he asks.” +Whereon I thus: “Perchance, O ancient spirit! +Thou marvel’st at my smiling. There is room +For yet more wonder. He who guides my ken +On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom +Thou didst presume of men arid gods to sing. +If other cause thou deem’dst for which I smil’d, +Leave it as not the true one; and believe +Those words, thou spak’st of him, indeed the cause.” + +Now down he bent t’ embrace my teacher’s feet; +But he forbade him: “Brother! do it not: +Thou art a shadow, and behold’st a shade.” +He rising answer’d thus: “Now hast thou prov’d +The force and ardour of the love I bear thee, +When I forget we are but things of air, +And as a substance treat an empty shade.” + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +Now we had left the angel, who had turn’d +To the sixth circle our ascending step, +One gash from off my forehead raz’d: while they, +Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth: +“Blessed!” and ended with, “I thirst:” and I, +More nimble than along the other straits, +So journey’d, that, without the sense of toil, +I follow’d upward the swift-footed shades; +When Virgil thus began: “Let its pure flame +From virtue flow, and love can never fail +To warm another’s bosom’ so the light +Shine manifestly forth. Hence from that hour, +When ’mongst us in the purlieus of the deep, +Came down the spirit of Aquinum’s hard, +Who told of thine affection, my good will +Hath been for thee of quality as strong +As ever link’d itself to one not seen. +Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me. +But tell me: and if too secure I loose +The rein with a friend’s license, as a friend +Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend: +How chanc’d it covetous desire could find +Place in that bosom, ’midst such ample store +Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasur’d there?” + +First somewhat mov’d to laughter by his words, +Statius replied: “Each syllable of thine +Is a dear pledge of love. Things oft appear +That minister false matters to our doubts, +When their true causes are remov’d from sight. +Thy question doth assure me, thou believ’st +I was on earth a covetous man, perhaps +Because thou found’st me in that circle plac’d. +Know then I was too wide of avarice: +And e’en for that excess, thousands of moons +Have wax’d and wan’d upon my sufferings. +And were it not that I with heedful care +Noted where thou exclaim’st as if in ire +With human nature, ‘Why, thou cursed thirst +Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide +The appetite of mortals?’ I had met +The fierce encounter of the voluble rock. +Then was I ware that with too ample wing +The hands may haste to lavishment, and turn’d, +As from my other evil, so from this +In penitence. How many from their grave +Shall with shorn locks arise, who living, aye +And at life’s last extreme, of this offence, +Through ignorance, did not repent. And know, +The fault which lies direct from any sin +In level opposition, here With that +Wastes its green rankness on one common heap. +Therefore if I have been with those, who wail +Their avarice, to cleanse me, through reverse +Of their transgression, such hath been my lot.” + +To whom the sovran of the pastoral song: +“While thou didst sing that cruel warfare wag’d +By the twin sorrow of Jocasta’s womb, +From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems +As faith had not been shine: without the which +Good deeds suffice not. And if so, what sun +Rose on thee, or what candle pierc’d the dark +That thou didst after see to hoist the sail, +And follow, where the fisherman had led?” + +He answering thus: “By thee conducted first, +I enter’d the Parnassian grots, and quaff’d +Of the clear spring; illumin’d first by thee +Open’d mine eyes to God. Thou didst, as one, +Who, journeying through the darkness, hears a light +Behind, that profits not himself, but makes +His followers wise, when thou exclaimedst, ‘Lo! +A renovated world! Justice return’d! +Times of primeval innocence restor’d! +And a new race descended from above!’ +Poet and Christian both to thee I owed. +That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace, +My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines +With livelier colouring. Soon o’er all the world, +By messengers from heav’n, the true belief +Teem’d now prolific, and that word of thine +Accordant, to the new instructors chim’d. +Induc’d by which agreement, I was wont +Resort to them; and soon their sanctity +So won upon me, that, Domitian’s rage +Pursuing them, I mix’d my tears with theirs, +And, while on earth I stay’d, still succour’d them; +And their most righteous customs made me scorn +All sects besides. Before I led the Greeks +In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes, +I was baptiz’d; but secretly, through fear, +Remain’d a Christian, and conform’d long time +To Pagan rites. Five centuries and more, +T for that lukewarmness was fain to pace +Round the fourth circle. Thou then, who hast rais’d +The covering, which did hide such blessing from me, +Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb, +Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides, +Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn’d +They dwell, and in what province of the deep.” +“These,” said my guide, “with Persius and myself, +And others many more, are with that Greek, +Of mortals, the most cherish’d by the Nine, +In the first ward of darkness. There ofttimes +We of that mount hold converse, on whose top +For aye our nurses live. We have the bard +Of Pella, and the Teian, Agatho, +Simonides, and many a Grecian else +Ingarlanded with laurel. Of thy train +Antigone is there, Deiphile, +Argia, and as sorrowful as erst +Ismene, and who show’d Langia’s wave: +Deidamia with her sisters there, +And blind Tiresias’ daughter, and the bride +Sea-born of Peleus.” Either poet now +Was silent, and no longer by th’ ascent +Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast +Inquiring eyes. Four handmaids of the day +Had finish’d now their office, and the fifth +Was at the chariot-beam, directing still +Its balmy point aloof, when thus my guide: +“Methinks, it well behooves us to the brink +Bend the right shoulder’ circuiting the mount, +As we have ever us’d.” So custom there +Was usher to the road, the which we chose +Less doubtful, as that worthy shade complied. + +They on before me went; I sole pursued, +List’ning their speech, that to my thoughts convey’d +Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy. +But soon they ceas’d; for midway of the road +A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung, +And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir +Upward from bough to bough less ample spreads, +So downward this less ample spread, that none. +Methinks, aloft may climb. Upon the side, +That clos’d our path, a liquid crystal fell +From the steep rock, and through the sprays above +Stream’d showering. With associate step the bards +Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves +A voice was heard: “Ye shall be chary of me;” +And after added: “Mary took more thought +For joy and honour of the nuptial feast, +Than for herself who answers now for you. +The women of old Rome were satisfied +With water for their beverage. Daniel fed +On pulse, and wisdom gain’d. The primal age +Was beautiful as gold; and hunger then +Made acorns tasteful, thirst each rivulet +Run nectar. Honey and locusts were the food, +Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness +Fed, and that eminence of glory reach’d +And greatness, which the’ Evangelist records.” + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +On the green leaf mine eyes were fix’d, like his +Who throws away his days in idle chase +Of the diminutive, when thus I heard +The more than father warn me: “Son! our time +Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away.” + +Thereat my face and steps at once I turn’d +Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer’d +I journey’d on, and felt no toil: and lo! +A sound of weeping and a song: “My lips, +O Lord!” and these so mingled, it gave birth +To pleasure and to pain. “O Sire, belov’d! +Say what is this I hear?” Thus I inquir’d. + +“Spirits,” said he, “who as they go, perchance, +Their debt of duty pay.” As on their road +The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some +Not known unto them, turn to them, and look, +But stay not; thus, approaching from behind +With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass’d, +A crowd of spirits, silent and devout. +The eyes of each were dark and hollow: pale +Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones +Stood staring thro’ the skin. I do not think +Thus dry and meagre Erisicthon show’d, +When pinc’ed by sharp-set famine to the quick. + +“Lo!” to myself I mus’d, “the race, who lost +Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak +Prey’d on her child.” The sockets seem’d as rings, +From which the gems were drops. Who reads the name +Of man upon his forehead, there the M +Had trac’d most plainly. Who would deem, that scent +Of water and an apple, could have prov’d +Powerful to generate such pining want, +Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood +Wond’ring what thus could waste them (for the cause +Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind +Appear’d not) lo! a spirit turn’d his eyes +In their deep-sunken cell, and fasten’d then +On me, then cried with vehemence aloud: +“What grace is this vouchsaf’d me?” By his looks +I ne’er had recogniz’d him: but the voice +Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal’d. +Remembrance of his alter’d lineaments +Was kindled from that spark; and I agniz’d +The visage of Forese. “Ah! respect +This wan and leprous wither’d skin,” thus he +Suppliant implor’d, “this macerated flesh. +Speak to me truly of thyself. And who +Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there? +Be it not said thou Scorn’st to talk with me.” + +“That face of thine,” I answer’d him, “which dead +I once bewail’d, disposes me not less +For weeping, when I see It thus transform’d. +Say then, by Heav’n, what blasts ye thus? The whilst +I wonder, ask not Speech from me: unapt +Is he to speak, whom other will employs. + +He thus: “The water and tee plant we pass’d, +Virtue possesses, by th’ eternal will +Infus’d, the which so pines me. Every spirit, +Whose song bewails his gluttony indulg’d +Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst +Is purified. The odour, which the fruit, +And spray, that showers upon the verdure, breathe, +Inflames us with desire to feed and drink. +Nor once alone encompassing our route +We come to add fresh fuel to the pain: +Pain, said I? solace rather: for that will +To the tree leads us, by which Christ was led +To call Elias, joyful when he paid +Our ransom from his vein.” I answering thus: +“Forese! from that day, in which the world +For better life thou changedst, not five years +Have circled. If the power of sinning more +Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew’st +That kindly grief, which re-espouses us +To God, how hither art thou come so soon? +I thought to find thee lower, there, where time +Is recompense for time.” He straight replied: +“To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction +I have been brought thus early by the tears +Stream’d down my Nella’s cheeks. Her prayers devout, +Her sighs have drawn me from the coast, where oft +Expectance lingers, and have set me free +From th’ other circles. In the sight of God +So much the dearer is my widow priz’d, +She whom I lov’d so fondly, as she ranks +More singly eminent for virtuous deeds. +The tract most barb’rous of Sardinia’s isle, +Hath dames more chaste and modester by far +Than that wherein I left her. O sweet brother! +What wouldst thou have me say? A time to come +Stands full within my view, to which this hour +Shall not be counted of an ancient date, +When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn’d +Th’ unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare +Unkerchief’d bosoms to the common gaze. +What savage women hath the world e’er seen, +What Saracens, for whom there needed scourge +Of spiritual or other discipline, +To force them walk with cov’ring on their limbs! +But did they see, the shameless ones, that Heav’n +Wafts on swift wing toward them, while I speak, +Their mouths were op’d for howling: they shall taste +Of Borrow (unless foresight cheat me here) +Or ere the cheek of him be cloth’d with down +Who is now rock’d with lullaby asleep. +Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more, +Thou seest how not I alone but all +Gaze, where thou veil’st the intercepted sun.” + +Whence I replied: “If thou recall to mind +What we were once together, even yet +Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore. +That I forsook that life, was due to him +Who there precedes me, some few evenings past, +When she was round, who shines with sister lamp +To his, that glisters yonder,” and I show’d +The sun. “Tis he, who through profoundest night +Of he true dead has brought me, with this flesh +As true, that follows. From that gloom the aid +Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb, +And climbing wind along this mountain-steep, +Which rectifies in you whate’er the world +Made crooked and deprav’d I have his word, +That he will bear me company as far +As till I come where Beatrice dwells: +But there must leave me. Virgil is that spirit, +Who thus hath promis’d,” and I pointed to him; +“The other is that shade, for whom so late +Your realm, as he arose, exulting shook +Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound.” + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +Our journey was not slacken’d by our talk, +Nor yet our talk by journeying. Still we spake, +And urg’d our travel stoutly, like a ship +When the wind sits astern. The shadowy forms, +That seem’d things dead and dead again, drew in +At their deep-delved orbs rare wonder of me, +Perceiving I had life; and I my words +Continued, and thus spake; “He journeys up +Perhaps more tardily then else he would, +For others’ sake. But tell me, if thou know’st, +Where is Piccarda? Tell me, if I see +Any of mark, among this multitude, +Who eye me thus.”—“My sister (she for whom, +’Twixt beautiful and good I cannot say +Which name was fitter) wears e’en now her crown, +And triumphs in Olympus.” Saying this, +He added: “Since spare diet hath so worn +Our semblance out, ’tis lawful here to name +Each one . This,” and his finger then he rais’d, +“Is Buonaggiuna,—Buonaggiuna, he +Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierc’d +Unto a leaner fineness than the rest, +Had keeping of the church: he was of Tours, +And purges by wan abstinence away +Bolsena’s eels and cups of muscadel.” + +He show’d me many others, one by one, +And all, as they were nam’d, seem’d well content; +For no dark gesture I discern’d in any. +I saw through hunger Ubaldino grind +His teeth on emptiness; and Boniface, +That wav’d the crozier o’er a num’rous flock. +I saw the Marquis, who tad time erewhile +To swill at Forli with less drought, yet so +Was one ne’er sated. I howe’er, like him, +That gazing ’midst a crowd, singles out one, +So singled him of Lucca; for methought +Was none amongst them took such note of me. +Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca: +The sound was indistinct, and murmur’d there, +Where justice, that so strips them, fix’d her sting. + +“Spirit!” said I, “it seems as thou wouldst fain +Speak with me. Let me hear thee. Mutual wish +To converse prompts, which let us both indulge.” + +He, answ’ring, straight began: “Woman is born, +Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make +My city please thee, blame it as they may. +Go then with this forewarning. If aught false +My whisper too implied, th’ event shall tell +But say, if of a truth I see the man +Of that new lay th’ inventor, which begins +With ‘Ladies, ye that con the lore of love’.” + +To whom I thus: “Count of me but as one +Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes, +Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write.” + +“Brother!” said he, “the hind’rance which once held +The notary with Guittone and myself, +Short of that new and sweeter style I hear, +Is now disclos’d. I see how ye your plumes +Stretch, as th’ inditer guides them; which, no question, +Ours did not. He that seeks a grace beyond, +Sees not the distance parts one style from other.” +And, as contented, here he held his peace. + +Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile, +In squared regiment direct their course, +Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight; +Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn’d +Their visage, faster deaf, nimble alike +Through leanness and desire. And as a man, +Tir’d With the motion of a trotting steed, +Slacks pace, and stays behind his company, +Till his o’erbreathed lungs keep temperate time; +E’en so Forese let that holy crew +Proceed, behind them lingering at my side, +And saying: “When shall I again behold thee?” + +“How long my life may last,” said I, “I know not; +This know, how soon soever I return, +My wishes will before me have arriv’d. +Sithence the place, where I am set to live, +Is, day by day, more scoop’d of all its good, +And dismal ruin seems to threaten it.” + +“Go now,” he cried: “lo! he, whose guilt is most, +Passes before my vision, dragg’d at heels +Of an infuriate beast. Toward the vale, +Where guilt hath no redemption, on it speeds, +Each step increasing swiftness on the last; +Until a blow it strikes, that leaveth him +A corse most vilely shatter’d. No long space +Those wheels have yet to roll” (therewith his eyes +Look’d up to heav’n) “ere thou shalt plainly see +That which my words may not more plainly tell. +I quit thee: time is precious here: I lose +Too much, thus measuring my pace with shine.” + +As from a troop of well-rank’d chivalry +One knight, more enterprising than the rest, +Pricks forth at gallop, eager to display +His prowess in the first encounter prov’d +So parted he from us with lengthen’d strides, +And left me on the way with those twain spirits, +Who were such mighty marshals of the world. + +When he beyond us had so fled mine eyes +No nearer reach’d him, than my thought his words, +The branches of another fruit, thick hung, +And blooming fresh, appear’d. E’en as our steps +Turn’d thither, not far off it rose to view. +Beneath it were a multitude, that rais’d +Their hands, and shouted forth I know not What +Unto the boughs; like greedy and fond brats, +That beg, and answer none obtain from him, +Of whom they beg; but more to draw them on, +He at arm’s length the object of their wish +Above them holds aloft, and hides it not. + +At length, as undeceiv’d they went their way: +And we approach the tree, who vows and tears +Sue to in vain, the mighty tree. “Pass on, +And come not near. Stands higher up the wood, +Whereof Eve tasted, and from it was ta’en +‘this plant.” Such sounds from midst the thickets came. +Whence I, with either bard, close to the side +That rose, pass’d forth beyond. “Remember,” next +We heard, “those noblest creatures of the clouds, +How they their twofold bosoms overgorg’d +Oppos’d in fight to Theseus: call to mind +The Hebrews, how effeminate they stoop’d +To ease their thirst; whence Gideon’s ranks were thinn’d, +As he to Midian march’d adown the hills.” + +Thus near one border coasting, still we heard +The sins of gluttony, with woe erewhile +Reguerdon’d. Then along the lonely path, +Once more at large, full thousand paces on +We travel’d, each contemplative and mute. + +“Why pensive journey thus ye three alone?” +Thus suddenly a voice exclaim’d: whereat +I shook, as doth a scar’d and paltry beast; +Then rais’d my head to look from whence it came. + +Was ne’er, in furnace, glass, or metal seen +So bright and glowing red, as was the shape +I now beheld. “If ye desire to mount,” +He cried, “here must ye turn. This way he goes, +Who goes in quest of peace.” His countenance +Had dazzled me; and to my guides I fac’d +Backward, like one who walks, as sound directs. + +As when, to harbinger the dawn, springs up +On freshen’d wing the air of May, and breathes +Of fragrance, all impregn’d with herb and flowers, +E’en such a wind I felt upon my front +Blow gently, and the moving of a wing +Perceiv’d, that moving shed ambrosial smell; +And then a voice: “Blessed are they, whom grace +Doth so illume, that appetite in them +Exhaleth no inordinate desire, +Still hung’ring as the rule of temperance wills.” + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need +To walk uncrippled: for the sun had now +To Taurus the meridian circle left, +And to the Scorpion left the night. As one +That makes no pause, but presses on his road, +Whate’er betide him, if some urgent need +Impel: so enter’d we upon our way, +One before other; for, but singly, none +That steep and narrow scale admits to climb. + +E’en as the young stork lifteth up his wing +Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit +The nest, and drops it; so in me desire +Of questioning my guide arose, and fell, +Arriving even to the act, that marks +A man prepar’d for speech. Him all our haste +Restrain’d not, but thus spake the sire belov’d: +Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip +Stands trembling for its flight.” Encourag’d thus +I straight began: “How there can leanness come, +Where is no want of nourishment to feed?” + +“If thou,” he answer’d, “hadst remember’d thee, +How Meleager with the wasting brand +Wasted alike, by equal fires consm’d, +This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought, +How in the mirror your reflected form +With mimic motion vibrates, what now seems +Hard, had appear’d no harder than the pulp +Of summer fruit mature. But that thy will +In certainty may find its full repose, +Lo Statius here! on him I call, and pray +That he would now be healer of thy wound.” + +“If in thy presence I unfold to him +The secrets of heaven’s vengeance, let me plead +Thine own injunction, to exculpate me.” +So Statius answer’d, and forthwith began: +“Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind +Receive them: so shall they be light to clear +The doubt thou offer’st. Blood, concocted well, +Which by the thirsty veins is ne’er imbib’d, +And rests as food superfluous, to be ta’en +From the replenish’d table, in the heart +Derives effectual virtue, that informs +The several human limbs, as being that, +Which passes through the veins itself to make them. +Yet more concocted it descends, where shame +Forbids to mention: and from thence distils +In natural vessel on another’s blood. +Then each unite together, one dispos’d +T’ endure, to act the other, through meet frame +Of its recipient mould: that being reach’d, +It ’gins to work, coagulating first; +Then vivifies what its own substance caus’d +To bear. With animation now indued, +The active virtue (differing from a plant +No further, than that this is on the way +And at its limit that) continues yet +To operate, that now it moves, and feels, +As sea sponge clinging to the rock: and there +Assumes th’ organic powers its seed convey’d. +‘This is the period, son! at which the virtue, +That from the generating heart proceeds, +Is pliant and expansive; for each limb +Is in the heart by forgeful nature plann’d. +How babe of animal becomes, remains +For thy consid’ring. At this point, more wise, +Than thou hast err’d, making the soul disjoin’d +From passive intellect, because he saw +No organ for the latter’s use assign’d. + +“Open thy bosom to the truth that comes. +Know soon as in the embryo, to the brain, +Articulation is complete, then turns +The primal Mover with a smile of joy +On such great work of nature, and imbreathes +New spirit replete with virtue, that what here +Active it finds, to its own substance draws, +And forms an individual soul, that lives, +And feels, and bends reflective on itself. +And that thou less mayst marvel at the word, +Mark the sun’s heat, how that to wine doth change, +Mix’d with the moisture filter’d through the vine. + +“When Lachesis hath spun the thread, the soul +Takes with her both the human and divine, +Memory, intelligence, and will, in act +Far keener than before, the other powers +Inactive all and mute. No pause allow’d, +In wond’rous sort self-moving, to one strand +Of those, where the departed roam, she falls, +Here learns her destin’d path. Soon as the place +Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams, +Distinct as in the living limbs before: +And as the air, when saturate with showers, +The casual beam refracting, decks itself +With many a hue; so here the ambient air +Weareth that form, which influence of the soul +Imprints on it; and like the flame, that where +The fire moves, thither follows, so henceforth +The new form on the spirit follows still: +Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call’d, +With each sense even to the sight endued: +Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs +Which thou mayst oft have witness’d on the mount +Th’ obedient shadow fails not to present +Whatever varying passion moves within us. +And this the cause of what thou marvel’st at.” + +Now the last flexure of our way we reach’d, +And to the right hand turning, other care +Awaits us. Here the rocky precipice +Hurls forth redundant flames, and from the rim +A blast upblown, with forcible rebuff +Driveth them back, sequester’d from its bound. + +Behoov’d us, one by one, along the side, +That border’d on the void, to pass; and I +Fear’d on one hand the fire, on th’ other fear’d +Headlong to fall: when thus th’ instructor warn’d: +“Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes. +A little swerving and the way is lost.” + +Then from the bosom of the burning mass, +“O God of mercy!” heard I sung; and felt +No less desire to turn. And when I saw +Spirits along the flame proceeding, I +Between their footsteps and mine own was fain +To share by turns my view. At the hymn’s close +They shouted loud, “I do not know a man;” +Then in low voice again took up the strain, +Which once more ended, “To the wood,” they cried, +“Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto, stung +With Cytherea’s poison:” then return’d +Unto their song; then marry a pair extoll’d, +Who liv’d in virtue chastely, and the bands +Of wedded love. Nor from that task, I ween, +Surcease they; whilesoe’er the scorching fire +Enclasps them. Of such skill appliance needs +To medicine the wound, that healeth last. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +While singly thus along the rim we walk’d, +Oft the good master warn’d me: “Look thou well. +Avail it that I caution thee.” The sun +Now all the western clime irradiate chang’d +From azure tinct to white; and, as I pass’d, +My passing shadow made the umber’d flame +Burn ruddier. At so strange a sight I mark’d +That many a spirit marvel’d on his way. + +This bred occasion first to speak of me, +“He seems,” said they, “no insubstantial frame:” +Then to obtain what certainty they might, +Stretch’d towards me, careful not to overpass +The burning pale. “O thou, who followest +The others, haply not more slow than they, +But mov’d by rev’rence, answer me, who burn +In thirst and fire: nor I alone, but these +All for thine answer do more thirst, than doth +Indian or Aethiop for the cooling stream. +Tell us, how is it that thou mak’st thyself +A wall against the sun, as thou not yet +Into th’ inextricable toils of death +Hadst enter’d?” Thus spake one, and I had straight +Declar’d me, if attention had not turn’d +To new appearance. Meeting these, there came, +Midway the burning path, a crowd, on whom +Earnestly gazing, from each part I view +The shadows all press forward, sev’rally +Each snatch a hasty kiss, and then away. +E’en so the emmets, ’mid their dusky troops, +Peer closely one at other, to spy out +Their mutual road perchance, and how they thrive. + +That friendly greeting parted, ere dispatch +Of the first onward step, from either tribe +Loud clamour rises: those, who newly come, +Shout Sodom and Gomorrah!” these, “The cow +Pasiphae enter’d, that the beast she woo’d +Might rush unto her luxury.” Then as cranes, +That part towards the Riphaean mountains fly, +Part towards the Lybic sands, these to avoid +The ice, and those the sun; so hasteth off +One crowd, advances th’ other; and resume +Their first song weeping, and their several shout. + +Again drew near my side the very same, +Who had erewhile besought me, and their looks +Mark’d eagerness to listen. I, who twice +Their will had noted, spake: “O spirits secure, +Whene’er the time may be, of peaceful end! +My limbs, nor crude, nor in mature old age, +Have I left yonder: here they bear me, fed +With blood, and sinew-strung. That I no more +May live in blindness, hence I tend aloft. +There is a dame on high, who wind for us +This grace, by which my mortal through your realm +I bear. But may your utmost wish soon meet +Such full fruition, that the orb of heaven, +Fullest of love, and of most ample space, +Receive you, as ye tell (upon my page +Henceforth to stand recorded) who ye are, +And what this multitude, that at your backs +Have past behind us.” As one, mountain-bred, +Rugged and clownish, if some city’s walls +He chance to enter, round him stares agape, +Confounded and struck dumb; e’en such appear’d +Each spirit. But when rid of that amaze, +(Not long the inmate of a noble heart) +He, who before had question’d, thus resum’d: +“O blessed, who, for death preparing, tak’st +Experience of our limits, in thy bark! +Their crime, who not with us proceed, was that, +For which, as he did triumph, Caesar heard +The snout of ‘queen,’ to taunt him. Hence their cry +Of ‘Sodom,’ as they parted, to rebuke +Themselves, and aid the burning by their shame. +Our sinning was Hermaphrodite: but we, +Because the law of human kind we broke, +Following like beasts our vile concupiscence, +Hence parting from them, to our own disgrace +Record the name of her, by whom the beast +In bestial tire was acted. Now our deeds +Thou know’st, and how we sinn’d. If thou by name +Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now +To tell so much, nor can I. Of myself +Learn what thou wishest. Guinicelli I, +Who having truly sorrow’d ere my last, +Already cleanse me.” With such pious joy, +As the two sons upon their mother gaz’d +From sad Lycurgus rescu’d, such my joy +(Save that I more represt it) when I heard +From his own lips the name of him pronounc’d, +Who was a father to me, and to those +My betters, who have ever us’d the sweet +And pleasant rhymes of love. So nought I heard +Nor spake, but long time thoughtfully I went, +Gazing on him; and, only for the fire, +Approach’d not nearer. When my eyes were fed +By looking on him, with such solemn pledge, +As forces credence, I devoted me +Unto his service wholly. In reply +He thus bespake me: “What from thee I hear +Is grav’d so deeply on my mind, the waves +Of Lethe shall not wash it off, nor make +A whit less lively. But as now thy oath +Has seal’d the truth, declare what cause impels +That love, which both thy looks and speech bewray.” + +“Those dulcet lays,” I answer’d, “which, as long +As of our tongue the beauty does not fade, +Shall make us love the very ink that trac’d them.” + +“Brother!” he cried, and pointed at a shade +Before him, “there is one, whose mother speech +Doth owe to him a fairer ornament. +He in love ditties and the tales of prose +Without a rival stands, and lets the fools +Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges +O’ertops him. Rumour and the popular voice +They look to more than truth, and so confirm +Opinion, ere by art or reason taught. +Thus many of the elder time cried up +Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth +By strength of numbers vanquish’d. If thou own +So ample privilege, as to have gain’d +Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ +Is Abbot of the college, say to him +One paternoster for me, far as needs +For dwellers in this world, where power to sin +No longer tempts us.” Haply to make way +For one, that follow’d next, when that was said, +He vanish’d through the fire, as through the wave +A fish, that glances diving to the deep. + +I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew +A little onward, and besought his name, +For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room. +He frankly thus began: “Thy courtesy +So wins on me, I have nor power nor will +To hide me. I am Arnault; and with songs, +Sorely lamenting for my folly past, +Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see +The day, I hope for, smiling in my view. +I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up +Unto the summit of the scale, in time +Remember ye my suff’rings.” With such words +He disappear’d in the refining flame. + + + + +CANTO XXVII + + +Now was the sun so station’d, as when first +His early radiance quivers on the heights, +Where stream’d his Maker’s blood, while Libra hangs +Above Hesperian Ebro, and new fires +Meridian flash on Ganges’ yellow tide. + +So day was sinking, when the’ angel of God +Appear’d before us. Joy was in his mien. +Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink, +And with a voice, whose lively clearness far +Surpass’d our human, “Blessed are the pure +In heart,” he Sang: then near him as we came, +“Go ye not further, holy spirits!” he cried, +“Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list +Attentive to the song ye hear from thence.” + +I, when I heard his saying, was as one +Laid in the grave. My hands together clasp’d, +And upward stretching, on the fire I look’d, +And busy fancy conjur’d up the forms +Erewhile beheld alive consum’d in flames. + +Th’ escorting spirits turn’d with gentle looks +Toward me, and the Mantuan spake: “My son, +Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death. +Remember thee, remember thee, if I +Safe e’en on Geryon brought thee: now I come +More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now? +Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame +A thousand years contain’d thee, from thy head +No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth, +Approach, and with thy hands thy vesture’s hem +Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief. +Lay now all fear, O lay all fear aside. +Turn hither, and come onward undismay’d.” +I still, though conscience urg’d’ no step advanc’d. + +When still he saw me fix’d and obstinate, +Somewhat disturb’d he cried: “Mark now, my son, +From Beatrice thou art by this wall +Divided.” As at Thisbe’s name the eye +Of Pyramus was open’d (when life ebb’d +Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance, +While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn’d +To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard +The name, that springs forever in my breast. + +He shook his forehead; and, “How long,” he said, +“Linger we now?” then smil’d, as one would smile +Upon a child, that eyes the fruit and yields. +Into the fire before me then he walk’d; +And Statius, who erewhile no little space +Had parted us, he pray’d to come behind. + +I would have cast me into molten glass +To cool me, when I enter’d; so intense +Rag’d the conflagrant mass. The sire belov’d, +To comfort me, as he proceeded, still +Of Beatrice talk’d. “Her eyes,” saith he, +“E’en now I seem to view.” From the other side +A voice, that sang, did guide us, and the voice +Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth, +There where the path led upward. “Come,” we heard, +“Come, blessed of my Father.” Such the sounds, +That hail’d us from within a light, which shone +So radiant, I could not endure the view. +“The sun,” it added, “hastes: and evening comes. +Delay not: ere the western sky is hung +With blackness, strive ye for the pass.” Our way +Upright within the rock arose, and fac’d +Such part of heav’n, that from before my steps +The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun. + +Nor many stairs were overpass, when now +By fading of the shadow we perceiv’d +The sun behind us couch’d: and ere one face +Of darkness o’er its measureless expanse +Involv’d th’ horizon, and the night her lot +Held individual, each of us had made +A stair his pallet: not that will, but power, +Had fail’d us, by the nature of that mount +Forbidden further travel. As the goats, +That late have skipp’d and wanton’d rapidly +Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta’en +Their supper on the herb, now silent lie +And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown, +While noonday rages; and the goatherd leans +Upon his staff, and leaning watches them: +And as the swain, that lodges out all night +In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey +Disperse them; even so all three abode, +I as a goat and as the shepherds they, +Close pent on either side by shelving rock. + +A little glimpse of sky was seen above; +Yet by that little I beheld the stars +In magnitude and rustle shining forth +With more than wonted glory. As I lay, +Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing, +Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft +Tidings of future hap. About the hour, +As I believe, when Venus from the east +First lighten’d on the mountain, she whose orb +Seems always glowing with the fire of love, +A lady young and beautiful, I dream’d, +Was passing o’er a lea; and, as she came, +Methought I saw her ever and anon +Bending to cull the flowers; and thus she sang: +“Know ye, whoever of my name would ask, +That I am Leah: for my brow to weave +A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply. +To please me at the crystal mirror, here +I deck me. But my sister Rachel, she +Before her glass abides the livelong day, +Her radiant eyes beholding, charm’d no less, +Than I with this delightful task. Her joy +In contemplation, as in labour mine.” + +And now as glimm’ring dawn appear’d, that breaks +More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he +Sojourns less distant on his homeward way, +Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled +My slumber; whence I rose and saw my guide +Already risen. “That delicious fruit, +Which through so many a branch the zealous care +Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day +Appease thy hunger.” Such the words I heard +From Virgil’s lip; and never greeting heard +So pleasant as the sounds. Within me straight +Desire so grew upon desire to mount, +Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings +Increasing for my flight. When we had run +O’er all the ladder to its topmost round, +As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix’d +His eyes, and thus he spake: “Both fires, my son, +The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen, +And art arriv’d, where of itself my ken +No further reaches. I with skill and art +Thus far have drawn thee. Now thy pleasure take +For guide. Thou hast o’ercome the steeper way, +O’ercome the straighter. Lo! the sun, that darts +His beam upon thy forehead! lo! the herb, +The arboreta and flowers, which of itself +This land pours forth profuse! Till those bright eyes +With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste +To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down, +Or wander where thou wilt. Expect no more +Sanction of warning voice or sign from me, +Free of thy own arbitrement to choose, +Discreet, judicious. To distrust thy sense +Were henceforth error. I invest thee then +With crown and mitre, sovereign o’er thyself.” + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + + +Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade +With lively greenness the new-springing day +Attemper’d, eager now to roam, and search +Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank, +Along the champain leisurely my way +Pursuing, o’er the ground, that on all sides +Delicious odour breath’d. A pleasant air, +That intermitted never, never veer’d, +Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind +Of softest influence: at which the sprays, +Obedient all, lean’d trembling to that part +Where first the holy mountain casts his shade, +Yet were not so disorder’d, but that still +Upon their top the feather’d quiristers +Applied their wonted art, and with full joy +Welcom’d those hours of prime, and warbled shrill +Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays +inept tenor; even as from branch to branch, +Along the piney forests on the shore +Of Chiassi, rolls the gath’ring melody, +When Eolus hath from his cavern loos’d +The dripping south. Already had my steps, +Though slow, so far into that ancient wood +Transported me, I could not ken the place +Where I had enter’d, when behold! my path +Was bounded by a rill, which to the left +With little rippling waters bent the grass, +That issued from its brink. On earth no wave +How clean soe’er, that would not seem to have +Some mixture in itself, compar’d with this, +Transpicuous, clear; yet darkly on it roll’d, +Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne’er +Admits or sun or moon light there to shine. + +My feet advanc’d not; but my wond’ring eyes +Pass’d onward, o’er the streamlet, to survey +The tender May-bloom, flush’d through many a hue, +In prodigal variety: and there, +As object, rising suddenly to view, +That from our bosom every thought beside +With the rare marvel chases, I beheld +A lady all alone, who, singing, went, +And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way +Was all o’er painted. “Lady beautiful! +Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart, +Are worthy of our trust), with love’s own beam +Dost warm thee,” thus to her my speech I fram’d: +“Ah! please thee hither towards the streamlet bend +Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song. +Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks, +I call to mind where wander’d and how look’d +Proserpine, in that season, when her child +The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring.” + +As when a lady, turning in the dance, +Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce +One step before the other to the ground; +Over the yellow and vermilion flowers +Thus turn’d she at my suit, most maiden-like, +Valing her sober eyes, and came so near, +That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound. +Arriving where the limped waters now +Lav’d the green sward, her eyes she deign’d to raise, +That shot such splendour on me, as I ween +Ne’er glanced from Cytherea’s, when her son +Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart. +Upon the opposite bank she stood and smil’d +through her graceful fingers shifted still +The intermingling dyes, which without seed +That lofty land unbosoms. By the stream +Three paces only were we sunder’d: yet +The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass’d it o’er, +(A curb for ever to the pride of man) +Was by Leander not more hateful held +For floating, with inhospitable wave +’Twixt Sestus and Abydos, than by me +That flood, because it gave no passage thence. + +“Strangers ye come, and haply in this place, +That cradled human nature in its birth, +Wond’ring, ye not without suspicion view +My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody, +‘Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,’ will give ye light, +Which may uncloud your minds. And thou, who stand’st +The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me, +Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I +Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine.” + +She spake; and I replied: “l know not how +To reconcile this wave and rustling sound +Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard +Of opposite report.” She answering thus: +“I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds, +Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud +That hath enwraps thee. The First Good, whose joy +Is only in himself, created man +For happiness, and gave this goodly place, +His pledge and earnest of eternal peace. +Favour’d thus highly, through his own defect +He fell, and here made short sojourn; he fell, +And, for the bitterness of sorrow, chang’d +Laughter unblam’d and ever-new delight. +That vapours none, exhal’d from earth beneath, +Or from the waters (which, wherever heat +Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far +To vex man’s peaceful state, this mountain rose +So high toward the heav’n, nor fears the rage +0f elements contending, from that part +Exempted, where the gate his limit bars. +Because the circumambient air throughout +With its first impulse circles still, unless +Aught interpose to cheek or thwart its course; +Upon the summit, which on every side +To visitation of th’ impassive air +Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes +Beneath its sway th’ umbrageous wood resound: +And in the shaken plant such power resides, +That it impregnates with its efficacy +The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume +That wafted flies abroad; and th’ other land +Receiving (as ’tis worthy in itself, +Or in the clime, that warms it), doth conceive, +And from its womb produces many a tree +Of various virtue. This when thou hast heard, +The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth +Some plant without apparent seed be found +To fix its fibrous stem. And further learn, +That with prolific foison of all seeds, +This holy plain is fill’d, and in itself +Bears fruit that ne’er was pluck’d on other soil. + “The water, thou behold’st, springs not from vein, +As stream, that intermittently repairs +And spends his pulse of life, but issues forth +From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure; +And by the will omnific, full supply +Feeds whatsoe’er On either side it pours; +On this devolv’d with power to take away +Remembrance of offence, on that to bring +Remembrance back of every good deed done. +From whence its name of Lethe on this part; +On th’ other Eunoe: both of which must first +Be tasted ere it work; the last exceeding +All flavours else. Albeit thy thirst may now +Be well contented, if I here break off, +No more revealing: yet a corollary +I freely give beside: nor deem my words +Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass +The stretch of promise. They, whose verse of yore +The golden age recorded and its bliss, +On the Parnassian mountain, of this place +Perhaps had dream’d. Here was man guiltless, here +Perpetual spring and every fruit, and this +The far-fam’d nectar.” Turning to the bards, +When she had ceas’d, I noted in their looks +A smile at her conclusion; then my face +Again directed to the lovely dame. + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +Singing, as if enamour’d, she resum’d +And clos’d the song, with “Blessed they whose sins +Are cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp’d +Singly across the sylvan shadows, one +Eager to view and one to ’scape the sun, +So mov’d she on, against the current, up +The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step +Observing, with as tardy step pursued. + +Between us not an hundred paces trod, +The bank, on each side bending equally, +Gave me to face the orient. Nor our way +Far onward brought us, when to me at once +She turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look and hearken.” +And lo! a sudden lustre ran across +Through the great forest on all parts, so bright +I doubted whether lightning were abroad; +But that expiring ever in the spleen, +That doth unfold it, and this during still +And waxing still in splendor, made me question +What it might be: and a sweet melody +Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide +With warrantable zeal the hardihood +Of our first parent, for that there were earth +Stood in obedience to the heav’ns, she only, +Woman, the creature of an hour, endur’d not +Restraint of any veil: which had she borne +Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these, +Had from the first, and long time since, been mine. + +While through that wilderness of primy sweets +That never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yet +Expectant of beatitude more high, +Before us, like a blazing fire, the air +Under the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song, +Distinct the sound of melody was heard. + +O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes +If e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold and watching, +Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty. +Now through my breast let Helicon his stream +Pour copious; and Urania with her choir +Arise to aid me: while the verse unfolds +Things that do almost mock the grasp of thought. + +Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold, +The intervening distance to mine eye +Falsely presented; but when I was come +So near them, that no lineament was lost +Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen +Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense, +Then did the faculty, that ministers +Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold +Distinguish, and it th’ singing trace the sound +“Hosanna.” Above, their beauteous garniture +Flam’d with more ample lustre, than the moon +Through cloudless sky at midnight in her full. + +I turn’d me full of wonder to my guide; +And he did answer with a countenance +Charg’d with no less amazement: whence my view +Reverted to those lofty things, which came +So slowly moving towards us, that the bride +Would have outstript them on her bridal day. + +The lady called aloud: “Why thus yet burns +Affection in thee for these living, lights, +And dost not look on that which follows them?” + +I straightway mark’d a tribe behind them walk, +As if attendant on their leaders, cloth’d +With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth +Was never. On my left, the wat’ry gleam +Borrow’d, and gave me back, when there I look’d. +As in a mirror, my left side portray’d. + +When I had chosen on the river’s edge +Such station, that the distance of the stream +Alone did separate me; there I stay’d +My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld +The flames go onward, leaving, as they went, +The air behind them painted as with trail +Of liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark’d +All those sev’n listed colours, whence the sun +Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone. +These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond +My vision; and ten paces, as I guess, +Parted the outermost. Beneath a sky +So beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders, +By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d. +All sang one song: “Blessed be thou among +The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness +Blessed for ever!” After that the flowers, +And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink, +Were free from that elected race; as light +In heav’n doth second light, came after them +Four animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf. +With six wings each was plum’d, the plumage full +Of eyes, and th’ eyes of Argus would be such, +Were they endued with life. Reader, more rhymes +Will not waste in shadowing forth their form: +For other need no straitens, that in this +I may not give my bounty room. But read +Ezekiel; for he paints them, from the north +How he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood, +In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even such +As thou shalt find them character’d by him, +Here were they; save as to the pennons; there, +From him departing, John accords with me. + +The space, surrounded by the four, enclos’d +A car triumphal: on two wheels it came +Drawn at a Gryphon’s neck; and he above +Stretch’d either wing uplifted, ’tween the midst +And the three listed hues, on each side three; +So that the wings did cleave or injure none; +And out of sight they rose. The members, far +As he was bird, were golden; white the rest +With vermeil intervein’d. So beautiful +A car in Rome ne’er grac’d Augustus pomp, +Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itself +Were poor to this, that chariot of the sun +Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell +At Tellus’ pray’r devout, by the just doom +Mysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphs +,k the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance; +The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce +Been known within a furnace of clear flame: +The next did look, as if the flesh and bones +Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem’d the third. +Now seem’d the white to lead, the ruddy now; +And from her song who led, the others took +Their treasure, swift or slow. At th’ other wheel, +A band quaternion, each in purple clad, +Advanc’d with festal step, as of them one +The rest conducted, one, upon whose front +Three eyes were seen. In rear of all this group, +Two old men I beheld, dissimilar +In raiment, but in port and gesture like, +Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one +Did show himself some favour’d counsellor +Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made +To serve the costliest creature of her tribe. +His fellow mark’d an opposite intent, +Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge, +E’en as I view’d it with the flood between, +Appall’d me. Next four others I beheld, +Of humble seeming: and, behind them all, +One single old man, sleeping, as he came, +With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each +Like the first troop were habited, hut wore +No braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d. +Rather with roses and each vermeil flower, +A sight, but little distant, might have sworn, +That they were all on fire above their brow. + +Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight. +Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’d +The chosen multitude were stay’d; for there, +With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt. + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +Soon as the polar light, which never knows +Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil +Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament +Of the first heav’n, to duty each one there +Safely convoying, as that lower doth +The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix’d; +Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van +Between the Gryphon and its radiance came, +Did turn them to the car, as to their rest: +And one, as if commission’d from above, +In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud: +“Come, spouse, from Libanus!” and all the rest +Took up the song—At the last audit so +The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each +Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh, +As, on the sacred litter, at the voice +Authoritative of that elder, sprang +A hundred ministers and messengers +Of life eternal. “Blessed thou! who com’st!” +And, “O,” they cried, “from full hands scatter ye +Unwith’ring lilies;” and, so saying, cast +Flowers over head and round them on all sides. + +I have beheld, ere now, at break of day, +The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky +Oppos’d, one deep and beautiful serene, +And the sun’s face so shaded, and with mists +Attemper’d at lids rising, that the eye +Long while endur’d the sight: thus in a cloud +Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose, +And down, within and outside of the car, +Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath’d, +A virgin in my view appear’d, beneath +Green mantle, rob’d in hue of living flame: +And o’er my Spirit, that in former days +Within her presence had abode so long, +No shudd’ring terror crept. Mine eyes no more +Had knowledge of her; yet there mov’d from her +A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak’d, +The power of ancient love was strong within me. + +No sooner on my vision streaming, smote +The heav’nly influence, which years past, and e’en +In childhood, thrill’d me, than towards Virgil I +Turn’d me to leftward, panting, like a babe, +That flees for refuge to his mother’s breast, +If aught have terrified or work’d him woe: +And would have cried: “There is no dram of blood, +That doth not quiver in me. The old flame +Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:” +But Virgil had bereav’d us of himself, +Virgil, my best-lov’d father; Virgil, he +To whom I gave me up for safety: nor, +All, our prime mother lost, avail’d to save +My undew’d cheeks from blur of soiling tears. + +“Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay, +Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge +Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that.” + +As to the prow or stern, some admiral +Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew, +When ’mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof; +Thus on the left side of the car I saw, +(Turning me at the sound of mine own name, +Which here I am compell’d to register) +The virgin station’d, who before appeared +Veil’d in that festive shower angelical. + +Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes; +Though from her brow the veil descending, bound +With foliage of Minerva, suffer’d not +That I beheld her clearly; then with act +Full royal, still insulting o’er her thrall, +Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back +The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech: +“Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am +Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign’d at last +Approach the mountain? knewest not, O man! +Thy happiness is whole?” Down fell mine eyes +On the clear fount, but there, myself espying, +Recoil’d, and sought the greensward: such a weight +Of shame was on my forehead. With a mien +Of that stern majesty, which doth surround +mother’s presence to her awe-struck child, +She look’d; a flavour of such bitterness +Was mingled in her pity. There her words +Brake off, and suddenly the angels sang: +“In thee, O gracious Lord, my hope hath been:” +But went no farther than, “Thou Lord, hast set +My feet in ample room.” As snow, that lies +Amidst the living rafters on the back +Of Italy congeal’d when drifted high +And closely pil’d by rough Sclavonian blasts, +Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls, +And straightway melting it distils away, +Like a fire-wasted taper: thus was I, +Without a sigh or tear, or ever these +Did sing, that with the chiming of heav’n’s sphere, +Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain +Of dulcet symphony, express’d for me +Their soft compassion, more than could the words +“Virgin, why so consum’st him?” then the ice, +Congeal’d about my bosom, turn’d itself +To spirit and water, and with anguish forth +Gush’d through the lips and eyelids from the heart. + +Upon the chariot’s right edge still she stood, +Immovable, and thus address’d her words +To those bright semblances with pity touch’d: +“Ye in th’ eternal day your vigils keep, +So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth, +Conveys from you a single step in all +The goings on of life: thence with more heed +I shape mine answer, for his ear intended, +Who there stands weeping, that the sorrow now +May equal the transgression. Not alone +Through operation of the mighty orbs, +That mark each seed to some predestin’d aim, +As with aspect or fortunate or ill +The constellations meet, but through benign +Largess of heav’nly graces, which rain down +From such a height, as mocks our vision, this man +Was in the freshness of his being, such, +So gifted virtually, that in him +All better habits wond’rously had thriv’d. +The more of kindly strength is in the soil, +So much doth evil seed and lack of culture +Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness. +These looks sometime upheld him; for I show’d +My youthful eyes, and led him by their light +In upright walking. Soon as I had reach’d +The threshold of my second age, and chang’d +My mortal for immortal, then he left me, +And gave himself to others. When from flesh +To spirit I had risen, and increase +Of beauty and of virtue circled me, +I was less dear to him, and valued less. +His steps were turn’d into deceitful ways, +Following false images of good, that make +No promise perfect. Nor avail’d me aught +To sue for inspirations, with the which, +I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise, +Did call him back; of them so little reck’d him, +Such depth he fell, that all device was short +Of his preserving, save that he should view +The children of perdition. To this end +I visited the purlieus of the dead: +And one, who hath conducted him thus high, +Receiv’d my supplications urg’d with weeping. +It were a breaking of God’s high decree, +If Lethe should be past, and such food tasted +Without the cost of some repentant tear.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +“O Thou!” her words she thus without delay +Resuming, turn’d their point on me, to whom +They but with lateral edge seem’d harsh before, +‘Say thou, who stand’st beyond the holy stream, +If this be true. A charge so grievous needs +Thine own avowal.” On my faculty +Such strange amazement hung, the voice expir’d +Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth. + +A little space refraining, then she spake: +“What dost thou muse on? Answer me. The wave +On thy remembrances of evil yet +Hath done no injury.” A mingled sense +Of fear and of confusion, from my lips +Did such a “Yea “ produce, as needed help +Of vision to interpret. As when breaks +In act to be discharg’d, a cross-bow bent +Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o’erstretch’d, +The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark; +Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst +Beneath the heavy load, and thus my voice +Was slacken’d on its way. She straight began: +“When my desire invited thee to love +The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings, +What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain +Did meet thee, that thou so should’st quit the hope +Of further progress, or what bait of ease +Or promise of allurement led thee on +Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere should’st rather wait?” + +A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice +To answer, hardly to these sounds my lips +Gave utterance, wailing: “Thy fair looks withdrawn, +Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn’d +My steps aside.” She answering spake: “Hadst thou +Been silent, or denied what thou avow’st, +Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more: such eye +Observes it. But whene’er the sinner’s cheek +Breaks forth into the precious-streaming tears +Of self-accusing, in our court the wheel +Of justice doth run counter to the edge. +Howe’er that thou may’st profit by thy shame +For errors past, and that henceforth more strength +May arm thee, when thou hear’st the Siren-voice, +Lay thou aside the motive to this grief, +And lend attentive ear, while I unfold +How opposite a way my buried flesh +Should have impell’d thee. Never didst thou spy +In art or nature aught so passing sweet, +As were the limbs, that in their beauteous frame +Enclos’d me, and are scatter’d now in dust. +If sweetest thing thus fail’d thee with my death, +What, afterward, of mortal should thy wish +Have tempted? When thou first hadst felt the dart +Of perishable things, in my departing +For better realms, thy wing thou should’st have prun’d +To follow me, and never stoop’d again +To ’bide a second blow for a slight girl, +Or other gaud as transient and as vain. +The new and inexperienc’d bird awaits, +Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler’s aim; +But in the sight of one, whose plumes are full, +In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing’d.” + +I stood, as children silent and asham’d +Stand, list’ning, with their eyes upon the earth, +Acknowledging their fault and self-condemn’d. +And she resum’d: “If, but to hear thus pains thee, +Raise thou thy beard, and lo! what sight shall do!” + +With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm, +Rent from its fibers by a blast, that blows +From off the pole, or from Iarbas’ land, +Than I at her behest my visage rais’d: +And thus the face denoting by the beard, +I mark’d the secret sting her words convey’d. + +No sooner lifted I mine aspect up, +Than downward sunk that vision I beheld +Of goodly creatures vanish; and mine eyes +Yet unassur’d and wavering, bent their light +On Beatrice. Towards the animal, +Who joins two natures in one form, she turn’d, +And, even under shadow of her veil, +And parted by the verdant rill, that flow’d +Between, in loveliness appear’d as much +Her former self surpassing, as on earth +All others she surpass’d. Remorseful goads +Shot sudden through me. Each thing else, the more +Its love had late beguil’d me, now the more +I Was loathsome. On my heart so keenly smote +The bitter consciousness, that on the ground +O’erpower’d I fell: and what my state was then, +She knows who was the cause. When now my strength +Flow’d back, returning outward from the heart, +The lady, whom alone I first had seen, +I found above me. “Loose me not,” she cried: +“Loose not thy hold;” and lo! had dragg’d me high +As to my neck into the stream, while she, +Still as she drew me after, swept along, +Swift as a shuttle, bounding o’er the wave. + +The blessed shore approaching then was heard +So sweetly, “Tu asperges me,” that I +May not remember, much less tell the sound. +The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp’d +My temples, and immerg’d me, where ’twas fit +The wave should drench me: and thence raising up, +Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs +Presented me so lav’d, and with their arm +They each did cover me. “Here are we nymphs, +And in the heav’n are stars. Or ever earth +Was visited of Beatrice, we +Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her. +We to her eyes will lead thee; but the light +Of gladness that is in them, well to scan, +Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours, +Thy sight shall quicken.” Thus began their song; +And then they led me to the Gryphon’s breast, +While, turn’d toward us, Beatrice stood. +“Spare not thy vision. We have stationed thee +Before the emeralds, whence love erewhile +Hath drawn his weapons on thee. “As they spake, +A thousand fervent wishes riveted +Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood +Still fix’d toward the Gryphon motionless. +As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus +Within those orbs the twofold being, shone, +For ever varying, in one figure now +Reflected, now in other. Reader! muse +How wond’rous in my sight it seem’d to mark +A thing, albeit steadfast in itself, +Yet in its imag’d semblance mutable. + +Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul +Fed on the viand, whereof still desire +Grows with satiety, the other three +With gesture, that declar’d a loftier line, +Advanc’d: to their own carol on they came +Dancing in festive ring angelical. + +“Turn, Beatrice!” was their song: “O turn +Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one, +Who to behold thee many a wearisome pace +Hath measur’d. Gracious at our pray’r vouchsafe +Unveil to him thy cheeks: that he may mark +Thy second beauty, now conceal’d.” O splendour! +O sacred light eternal! who is he +So pale with musing in Pierian shades, +Or with that fount so lavishly imbued, +Whose spirit should not fail him in th’ essay +To represent thee such as thou didst seem, +When under cope of the still-chiming heaven +Thou gav’st to open air thy charms reveal’d. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Mine eyes with such an eager coveting, +Were bent to rid them of their ten years’ thirst, +No other sense was waking: and e’en they +Were fenc’d on either side from heed of aught; +So tangled in its custom’d toils that smile +Of saintly brightness drew me to itself, +When forcibly toward the left my sight +The sacred virgins turn’d; for from their lips +I heard the warning sounds: “Too fix’d a gaze!” + +Awhile my vision labor’d; as when late +Upon the’ o’erstrained eyes the sun hath smote: +But soon to lesser object, as the view +Was now recover’d (lesser in respect +To that excess of sensible, whence late +I had perforce been sunder’d) on their right +I mark’d that glorious army wheel, and turn, +Against the sun and sev’nfold lights, their front. +As when, their bucklers for protection rais’d, +A well-rang’d troop, with portly banners curl’d, +Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground: +E’en thus the goodly regiment of heav’n +Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car +Had slop’d his beam. Attendant at the wheels +The damsels turn’d; and on the Gryphon mov’d +The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth, +No feather on him trembled. The fair dame +Who through the wave had drawn me, companied +By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel, +Whose orbit, rolling, mark’d a lesser arch. + +Through the high wood, now void (the more her blame, +Who by the serpent was beguil’d) I past +With step in cadence to the harmony +Angelic. Onward had we mov’d, as far +Perchance as arrow at three several flights +Full wing’d had sped, when from her station down +Descended Beatrice. With one voice +All murmur’d “Adam,” circling next a plant +Despoil’d of flowers and leaf on every bough. +Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose, +Were such, as ’midst their forest wilds for height +The Indians might have gaz’d at. “Blessed thou! +Gryphon, whose beak hath never pluck’d that tree +Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite +Was warp’d to evil.” Round the stately trunk +Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return’d +The animal twice-gender’d: “Yea: for so +The generation of the just are sav’d.” +And turning to the chariot-pole, to foot +He drew it of the widow’d branch, and bound +There left unto the stock whereon it grew. + +As when large floods of radiance from above +Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends +Next after setting of the scaly sign, +Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew +His wonted colours, ere the sun have yok’d +Beneath another star his flamy steeds; +Thus putting forth a hue, more faint than rose, +And deeper than the violet, was renew’d +The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare. + +Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose. +I understood it not, nor to the end +Endur’d the harmony. Had I the skill +To pencil forth, how clos’d th’ unpitying eyes +Slumb’ring, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid +So dearly for their watching,) then like painter, +That with a model paints, I might design +The manner of my falling into sleep. +But feign who will the slumber cunningly; +I pass it by to when I wak’d, and tell +How suddenly a flash of splendour rent +The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out: +“Arise, what dost thou?” As the chosen three, +On Tabor’s mount, admitted to behold +The blossoming of that fair tree, whose fruit +Is coveted of angels, and doth make +Perpetual feast in heaven, to themselves +Returning at the word, whence deeper sleeps +Were broken, that they their tribe diminish’d saw, +Both Moses and Elias gone, and chang’d +The stole their master wore: thus to myself +Returning, over me beheld I stand +The piteous one, who cross the stream had brought +My steps. “And where,” all doubting, I exclaim’d, +“Is Beatrice?”—“See her,” she replied, +“Beneath the fresh leaf seated on its root. +Behold th’ associate choir that circles her. +The others, with a melody more sweet +And more profound, journeying to higher realms, +Upon the Gryphon tend.” If there her words +Were clos’d, I know not; but mine eyes had now +Ta’en view of her, by whom all other thoughts +Were barr’d admittance. On the very ground +Alone she sat, as she had there been left +A guard upon the wain, which I beheld +Bound to the twyform beast. The seven nymphs +Did make themselves a cloister round about her, +And in their hands upheld those lights secure +From blast septentrion and the gusty south. + +“A little while thou shalt be forester here: +And citizen shalt be forever with me, +Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman +To profit the misguided world, keep now +Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest, +Take heed thou write, returning to that place.” + +Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclin’d +Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes, +I, as she bade, directed. Never fire, +With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud +Leap’d downward from the welkin’s farthest bound, +As I beheld the bird of Jove descending +Pounce on the tree, and, as he rush’d, the rind, +Disparting crush beneath him, buds much more +And leaflets. On the car with all his might +He struck, whence, staggering like a ship, it reel’d, +At random driv’n, to starboard now, o’ercome, +And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves. + +Next springing up into the chariot’s womb +A fox I saw, with hunger seeming pin’d +Of all good food. But, for his ugly sins +The saintly maid rebuking him, away +Scamp’ring he turn’d, fast as his hide-bound corpse +Would bear him. Next, from whence before he came, +I saw the eagle dart into the hull +O’ th’ car, and leave it with his feathers lin’d; +And then a voice, like that which issues forth +From heart with sorrow riv’d, did issue forth +From heav’n, and, “O poor bark of mine!” it cried, +“How badly art thou freighted!” Then, it seem’d, +That the earth open’d between either wheel, +And I beheld a dragon issue thence, +That through the chariot fix’d his forked train; +And like a wasp that draggeth back the sting, +So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg’d +Part of the bottom forth, and went his way +Exulting. What remain’d, as lively turf +With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes, +Which haply had with purpose chaste and kind +Been offer’d; and therewith were cloth’d the wheels, +Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly +A sigh were not breath’d sooner. Thus transform’d, +The holy structure, through its several parts, +Did put forth heads, three on the beam, and one +On every side; the first like oxen horn’d, +But with a single horn upon their front +The four. Like monster sight hath never seen. +O’er it methought there sat, secure as rock +On mountain’s lofty top, a shameless whore, +Whose ken rov’d loosely round her. At her side, +As ’twere that none might bear her off, I saw +A giant stand; and ever, and anon +They mingled kisses. But, her lustful eyes +Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion +Scourg’d her from head to foot all o’er; then full +Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloos’d +The monster, and dragg’d on, so far across +The forest, that from me its shades alone +Shielded the harlot and the new-form’d brute. + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +“The heathen, Lord! are come!” responsive thus, +The trinal now, and now the virgin band +Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began, +Weeping; and Beatrice listen’d, sad +And sighing, to the song’, in such a mood, +That Mary, as she stood beside the cross, +Was scarce more chang’d. But when they gave her place +To speak, then, risen upright on her feet, +She, with a colour glowing bright as fire, +Did answer: “Yet a little while, and ye +Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters, +Again a little while, and ye shall see me.” + +Before her then she marshall’d all the seven, +And, beck’ning only motion’d me, the dame, +And that remaining sage, to follow her. + +So on she pass’d; and had not set, I ween, +Her tenth step to the ground, when with mine eyes +Her eyes encounter’d; and, with visage mild, +“So mend thy pace,” she cried, “that if my words +Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly plac’d +To hear them.” Soon as duly to her side +I now had hasten’d: “Brother!” she began, +“Why mak’st thou no attempt at questioning, +As thus we walk together?” Like to those +Who, speaking with too reverent an awe +Before their betters, draw not forth the voice +Alive unto their lips, befell me shell +That I in sounds imperfect thus began: +“Lady! what I have need of, that thou know’st, +And what will suit my need.” She answering thus: +“Of fearfulness and shame, I will, that thou +Henceforth do rid thee: that thou speak no more, +As one who dreams. Thus far be taught of me: +The vessel, which thou saw’st the serpent break, +Was and is not: let him, who hath the blame, +Hope not to scare God’s vengeance with a sop. +Without an heir for ever shall not be +That eagle, he, who left the chariot plum’d, +Which monster made it first and next a prey. +Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars +E’en now approaching, whose conjunction, free +From all impediment and bar, brings on +A season, in the which, one sent from God, +(Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out) +That foul one, and th’ accomplice of her guilt, +The giant, both shall slay. And if perchance +My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx, +Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils +The intellect with blindness) yet ere long +Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve +This knotty riddle, and no damage light +On flock or field. Take heed; and as these words +By me are utter’d, teach them even so +To those who live that life, which is a race +To death: and when thou writ’st them, keep in mind +Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant, +That twice hath now been spoil’d. This whoso robs, +This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed +Sins against God, who for his use alone +Creating hallow’d it. For taste of this, +In pain and in desire, five thousand years +And upward, the first soul did yearn for him, +Who punish’d in himself the fatal gust. + +“Thy reason slumbers, if it deem this height +And summit thus inverted of the plant, +Without due cause: and were not vainer thoughts, +As Elsa’s numbing waters, to thy soul, +And their fond pleasures had not dyed it dark +As Pyramus the mulberry, thou hadst seen, +In such momentous circumstance alone, +God’s equal justice morally implied +In the forbidden tree. But since I mark thee +In understanding harden’d into stone, +And, to that hardness, spotted too and stain’d, +So that thine eye is dazzled at my word, +I will, that, if not written, yet at least +Painted thou take it in thee, for the cause, +That one brings home his staff inwreath’d with palm. + +“I thus: “As wax by seal, that changeth not +Its impress, now is stamp’d my brain by thee. +But wherefore soars thy wish’d-for speech so high +Beyond my sight, that loses it the more, +The more it strains to reach it?”—“To the end +That thou mayst know,” she answer’d straight, “the school, +That thou hast follow’d; and how far behind, +When following my discourse, its learning halts: +And mayst behold your art, from the divine +As distant, as the disagreement is +’Twixt earth and heaven’s most high and rapturous orb.” + +“I not remember,” I replied, “that e’er +I was estrang’d from thee, nor for such fault +Doth conscience chide me.” Smiling she return’d: +“If thou canst, not remember, call to mind +How lately thou hast drunk of Lethe’s wave; +And, sure as smoke doth indicate a flame, +In that forgetfulness itself conclude +Blame from thy alienated will incurr’d. +From henceforth verily my words shall be +As naked as will suit them to appear +In thy unpractis’d view.” More sparkling now, +And with retarded course the sun possess’d +The circle of mid-day, that varies still +As th’ aspect varies of each several clime, +When, as one, sent in vaward of a troop +For escort, pauses, if perchance he spy +Vestige of somewhat strange and rare: so paus’d +The sev’nfold band, arriving at the verge +Of a dun umbrage hoar, such as is seen, +Beneath green leaves and gloomy branches, oft +To overbrow a bleak and alpine cliff. +And, where they stood, before them, as it seem’d, +Tigris and Euphrates both beheld, +Forth from one fountain issue; and, like friends, +Linger at parting. “O enlight’ning beam! +O glory of our kind! beseech thee say +What water this, which from one source deriv’d +Itself removes to distance from itself?” + +To such entreaty answer thus was made: +“Entreat Matilda, that she teach thee this.” + +And here, as one, who clears himself of blame +Imputed, the fair dame return’d: “Of me +He this and more hath learnt; and I am safe +That Lethe’s water hath not hid it from him.” + +And Beatrice: “Some more pressing care +That oft the memory ’reeves, perchance hath made +His mind’s eye dark. But lo! where Eunoe cows! +Lead thither; and, as thou art wont, revive +His fainting virtue.” As a courteous spirit, +That proffers no excuses, but as soon +As he hath token of another’s will, +Makes it his own; when she had ta’en me, thus +The lovely maiden mov’d her on, and call’d +To Statius with an air most lady-like: +“Come thou with him.” Were further space allow’d, +Then, Reader, might I sing, though but in part, +That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne’er +Been sated. But, since all the leaves are full, +Appointed for this second strain, mine art +With warning bridle checks me. I return’d +From the most holy wave, regenerate, +If ’en as new plants renew’d with foliage new, +Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars. + + + + +NOTES TO PURGATORY + +CANTO I + + +Verse 1. O’er better waves.] Berni, Orl. Inn. L 2. c. i. +Per correr maggior acqua alza le vele, +O debil navicella del mio ingegno. + +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. + +v. 19. Planet.] Venus. + +v. 20. Made all the orient laugh.] Hence Chaucer, Knight’s Tale: And +all the orisont laugheth of the sight. + +It is sometimes read “orient.” + +v. 24. Four stars.] Symbolical of the four cardinal virtues, Prudence +Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance. See Canto XXXI v. 105. + +v. 30. The wain.] Charles’s wain, or Bootes. + +v. 31. An old man.] Cato. + +v. 92. Venerable plumes.] The same metaphor has occurred in Hell Canto +XX. v. 41: + +—the plumes, That mark’d the better sex. + +It is used by Ford in the Lady’s Trial, a. 4. s. 2. + +Now the down +Of softness is exchang’d for plumes of age. + +v. 58. The farthest gloom.] L’ultima sera. Ariosto, Oroando Furioso c. +xxxiv st. 59: Che non hen visto ancor l’ultima sera. + +And Filicaja, c. ix. Al Sonno. +L’ultima sera. + +v. 79. Marcia.] +Da fredera prisci +Illibata tori: da tantum nomen inane +Connubil: liceat tumulo scripsisse, Catonis +Martia +Lucan, Phars. 1. ii. 344. + +v. 110. I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream.] Connubil il +tremolar della marina. + +Trissino, in the Sofonisba.] +E resta in tremolar l’onda marina + +And Fortiguerra, Rleelardetto, c. ix. st. 17. —visto il tremolar della +marine. + +v. 135. another.] From Virg, Aen. 1. vi. 143. Primo avulso non deficit +alter + +CANTO II + + +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. + +v. 6. The scales.] The constellation Libra. + +v. 35. Winnowing the air.] Trattando l’acre con l’eterne penne. + +80 Filicaja, canz. viii. st. 11. Ma trattar l’acre coll’ eterne plume + +v. 45. In exitu.] “When Israel came out of Egypt.” Ps. cxiv. + +v. 75. Thrice my hands.] +Ter conatus ibi eollo dare brachia eircum, +Ter frustra eomprensa manus effugit imago, +Par levibus ventis voluerique simillima sommo. +Virg. Aen. ii. 794. + +Compare Homer, Od. xl. 205. + +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. + +v. 90. Hath so much time been lost.] Casella had been dead some years +but was only just arrived. + +v. 91. He.] The eonducting angel. + +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. + +v. 96. The shore.] Ostia. + +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. + +CANTO III + + +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. + +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. + +v. 26. To Naples.] Virgil died at Brundusium, from whence his body is +said to have been removed to Naples. + +v. 38. Desiring fruitlessly.] See H. Canto IV, 39. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 111. Costanza.] See Paradise Canto III. v. 121. + +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. + +v. 122. Clement.] Pope Clement IV. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO IV + + +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. + +v. 23. Sanleo.] A fortress on the summit of Montefeltro. + +v. 24. Noli.] In the Genoese territory, between Finale and Savona. + +v. 25. Bismantua.] A steep mountain in the territory of Reggio. + +v. 55. From the left.] Vellutello observes an imitation of Lucan in +this passage: + +Ignotum vobis, Arabes, venistis in orbem, +Umbras mirati nemornm non ire sinistras. +Phars. s. 1. iii. 248 + +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.” + +v. 119. Belacqua.] Concerning this man, the commentators afford no +information. + +CANTO V + + +v. 14. Be as a tower.] Sta ome torre ferma + +Berni, Orl. Inn. 1. 1. c. xvi. st. 48: +In quei due piedi sta fermo il gigante +Com’ una torre in mezzo d’un castello. + +And Milton, P. L. b. i. 591. +Stood like a tower. + +v. 36. Ne’er saw I fiery vapours.] Imitated by Tasso, G. L, c. +xix t. 62: +Tal suol fendendo liquido sereno +Stella cader della gran madre in seno. + +And by Milton, P. L. b. iv. 558: +Swift as a shooting star +In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir’d +Impress the air. + +v. 67. That land.] The Marca d’Ancona, between Romagna and Apulia, the +kingdom of Charles of Anjou. + +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. + +v. 75. Antenor’s land.] The city of Padua, said to be founded by +Antenor. + +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. + +v. 88. Giovanna.] Either the wife, or kinswoman, of Buonconte. + +v. 91. The hermit’s seat.] The hermitage of Camaldoli. + +v. 95. Where its name is cancel’d.] That is, between Bibbiena and +Poppi, where the Archiano falls into the Arno. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO VI + + +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. + +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. + +v. 17. Frederic Novello.] Son of the Conte Guido da Battifolle, and +slain by one of the family of Bostoli. + +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. + +v. 20. Count 0rso.] Son of Napoleone da Cerbaia, slain by Alberto da +Mangona, his uncle. + +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. + +v. 30. In thy text.] He refers to Virgil, Aen. 1, vi. 376. +Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando, 37. The sacred height +Of judgment. Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, a. ii. s. 2. +If he, which is the top of judgment + +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. + +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. + +v. 76. Thou inn of grief.] +Thou most beauteous inn +Why should hard-favour’d grief be lodg’d in thee? +Shakespeare, Richard II a. 5. s. 1. + +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?” + +v. 94. That which God commands.] He alludes to the precept- “Render +unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.” + +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. + +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.” + +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.” + +v. 108. Philippeschi and Monaldi.] Two other rival families in Orvieto. + +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. + +v. 127. Marcellus.] +Un Marcel diventa +Ogni villan che parteggiando viene. +Repeated by Alamanni in his Coltivazione, 1. i. + +v. 51. I sick wretch.] Imitated by the Cardinal de Polignac in his +Anti-Lucretius, 1. i. 1052. + +Ceu lectum peragrat membris languentibus aeger +In latus alterne faevum dextrumque recumbens +Nec javat: inde oculos tollit resupinus in altum: +Nusquam inventa quies; semper quaesita: quod illi +Primum in deliciis fuerat, mox torquet et angit: +Nec morburm sanat, nec fallit taedia morbi. + +CANTO VII + + +v. 14. Where one of mean estate might clasp his lord.] Ariosto Orl. F. +c. xxiv. st. 19 + +E l’abbracciaro, ove il maggior s’abbraccia +Col capo nudo e col ginocchio chino. + +v. 31. The three holy virtues.] Faith, Hope and Charity. + +v. 32. The red.] Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance. + +v. 72. Fresh emeralds.] +Under foot the violet, +Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay +Broider’d the ground, more colour’d than with stone +Of costliest emblem. +Milton, P. L. b. iv. 793 + +Compare Ariosto, Orl. F. c. xxxiv. st. 49. + +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. + +v. 91. The Emperor Rodolph.] See the last Canto, v. 104. He died in +1291. + +v. 95. That country.] Bohemia. + +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. + +v. 101. That one with the nose deprest. ] Philip III of France, who +died in 1285, at Perpignan, in his retreat from Arragon. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +See Mariana, 1. xiv. c. 14. + +v. 119. Rarely.] +Full well can the wise poet of Florence +That hight Dante, speaken in this sentence +Lo! in such manner rime is Dantes tale. +Full selde upriseth by his branches smale +Prowesse of man for God of his goodnesse +Woll that we claim of him our gentlenesse: +For of our elders may we nothing claime +But temporal thing, that men may hurt and maime. +Chaucer, Wife of Bathe’s Tale. + +Compare Homer, Od. b. ii. v. 276; Pindar, Nem. xi. 48 and +Euripides, Electra, 369. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 129. Harry of England.] Henry III. + +v. 130. Better issue.] Edward l. of whose glory our Poet was perhaps a +witness, in his visit to England. + +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. + +CANTO VIII + + +v. 6. That seems to mourn for the expiring day.] The curfew tolls the +knell of parting day. Gray’s Elegy. + +v. 13. Te Lucis Ante.] The beginning of one of the evening hymns. + +v. 36. As faculty.] + +My earthly by his heav’nly overpower’d + +* * * * +As with an object, that excels the sense, +Dazzled and spent. +Milton, P. L. b. viii. 457. + +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. + +v. 65. Conrad.] Currado Malaspina. + +v. 71 My Giovanna.] The daughter of Nino, and wife of Riccardo da +Cammino of Trevigi. + +v. 73. Her mother.] Beatrice, marchioness of Este wife of Nino, and +after his death married to Galeazzo de’ Visconti of Milan. + +v. 74. The white and wimpled folds.] The weeds of widowhood. + +v. 80. The viper.] The arms of Galeazzo and the ensign of the Milanese. + +v. 81. Shrill Gallura’s bird.] The cock was the ensign of Gallura, +Nino’s province in Sardinia. Hell, Canto XXII. 80. and Notes. + +v. 115. Valdimagra.] See Hell, Canto XXIV. 144. and Notes. + +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. + +CANTO IX + + +v. 1. Now the fair consort of Tithonus old.] +La concubina di Titone antico. +So Tassoni, Secchia Rapita, c. viii. st. 15. +La puttanella del canuto amante. + +v. 5. Of that chill animal.] The scorpion. + +v. 14. Our minds.] Compare Hell, Canto XXVI. 7. + +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. + +v. 50. Lucia.] The enIightening, grace of heaven Hell, Canto II. 97. + +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. + +Each stair mysteriously was meant. + +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. + +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. + +v. 127. Harsh was the grating.] +On a sudden open fly +With impetuous recoil and jarring, sound +Th’ infernal doors, and on their hinges grate +Harsh thunder +Milton, P. L. b. ii 882 + +v. 128. The Turpeian.] +Protinus, abducto patuerunt temple Metello. +Tunc rupes Tarpeia sonat: magnoque reclusas +Testatur stridore fores: tune conditus imo +Eruitur tempo multis intactus ab annnis +Romani census populi, &c. +Lucan. Ph. 1. iii. 157. + +CANTO X + + +v. 6. That Wound.] Venturi justly observes, that the Padre d’Aquino has +misrepresented the sense of this passage in his translation. + +—dabat ascensum tendentibus ultra Scissa tremensque silex, tenuique +erratica motu. + +The verb “muover” is used in the same signification in the +Inferno, Canto XVIII. 21. + +Cosi da imo della roccia scogli +Moven. + +—from the rock’s low base Thus flinty paths advanc’d. + +In neither place is actual motion intended to be expressed. + +v. 52. That from unbidden. office awes mankind.] Seo 2 Sam. G. + +v 58. Preceding.] Ibid. 14, &c. + +v. 68. Gregory.] St. Gregory’s prayers are said to have delivered +Trajan from hell. See Paradise, Canto XX. 40. + +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.” + +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. + +CANTO XI + + +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. + +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. + +v. 79. Oderigi.] The illuminator, or miniature painter, a friend of +Giotto and Dante + +v. 83. Bolognian Franco.] Franco of Bologna, who is said to have been a +pupil of Oderigi’s. + +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: + +Credidit ut Cimabos picturae castra tenere, +Sic tenuit vivens: nunc tenet astra poli. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +and this act of self-abasement atoned for his general ambition and +pride. + +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.” + +CANTO XII + + +v. 26. The Thymbraen god.] Apollo + +Si modo, quem perhibes, pater est Thymbraeus Apollo. Virg. Georg. iv. +323. + +v. 37. Mars.] + +With such a grace, +The giants that attempted to scale heaven +When they lay dead on the Phlegren plain +Mars did appear to Jove. +Beaumont and Fletcher, The Prophetess, a. 2. s. 3. + +v. 42. O Rehoboam.] 1 Kings, c. xii. 18. + +v. 46. A1cmaeon.] Virg. Aen. l. vi. 445, and Homer, Od. xi. 325. + +v. 48. Sennacherib.] 2 Kings, c. xix. 37. + +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. + +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. + +v. 96. The well-guided city] This is said ironically of Florence. + +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. + +CANTO XIII + + +v. 26. They have no wine.] John, ii. 3. These words of the Virgin are +referred to as an instance of charity. + +v. 29. Orestes] Alluding to his friendship with Pylades + +v. 32. Love ye those have wrong’d you.] Matt. c. v. 44. + +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.” + +v. 87. Citizens Of one true city.] “For here we have no continuing +city, but we seek to come.” Heb. C. xiii. 14. + +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. + +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. + +v. 119. The hermit Piero.] Piero Pettinagno, a holy hermit of Florence. + +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. + +CANTO XIV + + +v. 34. Maim’d of Pelorus.] Virg. Aen. 1. iii. 414. + +—a hill Torn from Pelorus Milton P. L. b. i. 232 + +v. 45. ’Midst brute swine.] The people of Casentino. + +v. 49. Curs.] The Arno leaves Arezzo about four miles to the left. + +v. 53. Wolves.] The Florentines. + +v. 55. Foxes.] The Pisans + +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 + +v. 95. ’Twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore.] The boundaries +of Romagna. + +v. 99. Lizio.] Lizio da Valbona, introduced into Boccaccio’s Decameron, +G. v. N, 4. + +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. + +v. 102. In Bologna the low artisan.] One who had been a mechanic named +Lambertaccio, arrived at almost supreme power in Bologna. + +v. 103. Yon Bernardin.] Bernardin di Fosco, a man of low origin but +great talents, who governed at Faenza. + +v. 107. Prata.] A place between Faenza and Ravenna + +v. 107. Of Azzo him.] Ugolino of the Ubaldini family in Tuscany He is +recounted among the poets by Crescimbeni and Tiraboschi. + +v. 108. Tignoso.] Federigo Tignoso of Rimini. + +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. + +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. + +v. 114. O Brettinoro.] A beautifully situated castle in Romagna, the +hospitable residence of Guido del Duca, who is here speaking. + +v. 118. Baynacavallo.] A castle between Imola and Ravenna + +v. 118. Castracaro ill And Conio worse.] Both in Romagna. + +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. + +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 + +v. 136. Whosoever finds Will slay me.] The words of Cain, Gen. e. iv. +14. + +v. 142. Aglauros.] Ovid, Met. I, ii. fate. 12. + +v. 145. There was the galling bit.] Referring to what had been before +said, Canto XIII. 35. + +CANTO XV + + +v. 1. As much.] It wanted three hours of sunset. + +v. 16. As when the ray.] Compare Virg. Aen. 1.viii. 22, and Apol. Rhod. +1. iii. 755. + +v. 19. Ascending at a glance.] Lucretius, 1. iv. 215. + +v. 20. Differs from the stone.] The motion of light being quicker than +that of a stone through an equal space. + +v. 38. Blessed the merciful. Matt. c. v. 7. + +v. 43. Romagna’s spirit.] Guido del Duea, of Brettinoro whom we have +seen in the preceding Canto. + +v. 87. A dame.] Luke, c. ii. 18 + +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. + +v. 105. A stripling youth.] The protomartyr Stephen. + +CANTO XVI + + +v. 94. As thou.] “If thou wert still living.” + +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.” + +v. 58. Elsewhere.] He refers to what Guido del Duca had said in the +thirteenth Canto, concerning the degeneracy of his countrymen. + +v. 70. If this were so.] Mr. Crowe in his Lewesdon Hill has expressed +similar sentiments with much energy. + +Of this be sure, +Where freedom is not, there no virtue is, &c. + +Compare Origen in Genesim, Patrum Graecorum, vol. xi. p. 14. Wirer +burgi, 1783. 8vo. + +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.” + +v. 88. Like a babe that wantons sportively.] This reminds one of the +Emperor Hadrian’s verses to his departing soul: + +Animula vagula blandula, &c + +v. 99. The fortress.] Justice, the most necessary virtue in the chief +magistrate, as the commentators explain it. + +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. + +v. 110. Two sons.] The Emperor and the Bishop of Rome. + +v. 117. That land.] Lombardy. + +v. 119. Ere the day.] Before the Emperor Frederick II was defeated +before Parma, in 1248. G. Villani, 1. vi. c. 35. + +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. + +v. 127. Guido of Castello.] Of Reggio. All the Italians were called +Lombards by the French. + +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. + +CANTO XVII + + +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. + +Unwearied still reiterates her lays, +Jocund or sad, delightful to the ear. + +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. + +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. + +Tempus erat quo prima quies mortalibus aegris +Incipit, et dono divun gratissima serpit. +Aen. 1. ii. 268. + +v. 68. The peace-makers.] Matt. c. v. 9. + +v. 81. The love.] “A defect in our love towards God, or lukewarmness in +piety, is here removed.” + +v. 94. The primal blessings.] Spiritual good. + +v. 95. Th’ inferior.] Temporal good. + +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.” + +v. 111. There is.] The proud. + +v. 114. There is.] The envious. + +v. 117. There is he.] The resentful. + +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] + +CANTO XVIII + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 84. Andes.] Andes, now Pietola, made more famous than Mantua near +which it is situated, by having been the birthplace of Virgil. + +v. 92. Ismenus and Asopus.] Rivers near Thebes + +v. 98. Mary.] Luke, c i. 39, 40 + +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. + +v. 118. abbot.] Alberto, abbot of San Zeno in Verona, when Frederick I +was emperor, by whom Milan was besieged and reduced to ashes. + +v. 121. There is he.] Alberto della Scala, lord of Verona, who had made +his natural son abbot of San Zeno. + +v. 133. First they died.] The Israelites, who, on account of their +disobedience, died before reaching the promised land. + +v. 135. And they.] Virg Aen. 1. v. + +CANTO XIX + + +v. 1. The hour.] Near the dawn. + +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.” + +v. 7. A woman’s shape.] Worldly happiness. This allegory reminds us of +the “Choice of Hercules.” + +v. 14. Love’s own hue.] +A smile that glow’d +Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue. +Milton, P. L. b. viii. 619 + +—facies pulcherrima tune est +Quum porphyriaco variatur candida rubro +Quid color hic roseus sibi vult? designat amorem: +Quippe amor est igni similis; flammasque rubentes +Ignus habere solet. +Palingenii Zodiacus Vitae, 1. xii. + +v. 26. A dame.] Philosophy. + +v. 49. Who mourn.] Matt. c. v. 4. + +v. 72. My soul.] Psalm cxix. 5 + +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. + +v. 98. That stream.] The river Lavagna, in the Genoese territory. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO XX + + +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. + +v. 16. Of his appearing.] He is thought to allude to Can Grande della +Scala. See Hell, Canto I. 98. + +v. 25. Fabricius.] Compare Petrarch, Tr. della Fama, c. 1. + +Un Curio ed un Fabricio, &c. + +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. + +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. + +v. 57. My son.] Hugh Capet caused his son Robert to be crowned at +Orleans. + +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. + +v. 63. For amends.] This is ironical + +v. 64. Poitou it seiz’d, Navarre and Gascony.] I venture to read- Potti +e Navarra prese e Guascogna, + +instead of + +Ponti e Normandia prese e Guascogna +Seiz’d Ponthieu, Normandy and Gascogny. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 71. -with that lance Which the arch-traitor tilted with.] + +con la lancia Con la qual giostro Guida. + +If I remember right, in one of the old romances, Judas is represented +tilting with our Saviour. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 103. Pygmalion.] Virg. Aen. 1. i. 348. + +v. 107. Achan.] Joshua, c. vii. + +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.” + +v. 112. Thracia’s king.] Polymnestor, the murderer of Polydorus. Hell, +Canto XXX, 19. + +v. 114. Crassus.] Marcus Crassus, who fell miserably in the Parthian +war. See Appian, Parthica. + +CANTO XXI + + +v. 26. She.] Lachesis, one of the three fates. + +v. 43. —that, which heaven in itself Doth of itself receive.] Venturi, +I think rightly interprets this to be light. + +v. 49. Thaumantian.] Figlia di Taumante [GREEK HERE] + +Compare Plato, Theaet. v. ii. p. 76. Bip. edit., Virg; Aen. ix. 5, and +Spenser, Faery Queen, b. v. c. 3. st. 25. + +v. 85. The name.] The name of Poet. + +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. + +v. 94. Fell.] Statius lived to write only a small part of the +Achilleid. + +CANTO XXII + + +v. 5. Blessed.] Matt. v. 6. + +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. + +v. 28. Why.] Quid non mortalia pecaora cogis Anri sacra fames? Virg. +Aen. 1. iii. 57 + +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. + +v. 41. The fierce encounter.] See Hell, Canto VII. 26. + +v. 46. With shorn locks.] Ibid. 58. + +v. 57. The twin sorrow of Jocasta’s womb.] Eteocles and Polynices + +v. 71. A renovated world.] Virg. Ecl. iv. 5 + +v. 100. That Greek.] Homer + +v. 107. Of thy train. ] Of those celebrated in thy Poem.” + +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. + +Lombardi excuses our author better, by observing that Tiresias had a +daughter named Daphne. See Diodorus Siculus, 1. iv. 66. + +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.” + +v. 142 The women of old Rome.] See Valerius Maximus, 1. ii. c. i. + +CANTO XXIII + + +v. 9. My lips.] Psalm ii. 15. + +v. 20. The eyes.] Compare Ovid, Metam. 1. viii. 801 + +v. 26. When Mary.] Josephus, De Bello Jud. 1. vii. c. xxi. p. 954 Ed +Genev. fol. 1611. The shocking story is well told + +v. 27. Rings.] +In this habit +Met I my father with his bleeding rings +Their precious stones new lost. +Shakespeare, Lear, a. 5. s. 3 + +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. + +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. + +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?” + +v. 76. Lower.] In the Ante-Purgatory. See Canto II. + +v. 80. My Nella.] The wife of Forese. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +CANTO XXIV + + +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. + +v. 23. He was of Tours.] Simon of Tours became Pope, with the title of +Martin IV in 1281 and died in 1285. + +v. 29. Ubaldino.] Ubaldino degli Ubaldini, of Pila, in the Florentine +territory. + +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. + +v. 32. The Marquis.] The Marchese de’ Rigogliosi, of Forli. + +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.” + +v. 46. Blame it as they may.] See Hell, Canto XXI. 39. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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” + +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. + +v. 129. Creatures of the clouds.] The Centaurs. Ovid. Met. 1. fab. 4 v. +123. The Hebrews.] Judges, c. vii. + +CANTO XXV + + +v. 58. As sea-sponge.] The fetus is in this stage is zoophyte. + +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. + +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.” + +v. 123. I do, not know a man.] Luke, c. i. 34. + +v. 126. Callisto.] See Ovid, Met. 1. ii. fab. 5. + +CANTO XXVI + + +v. 70. Caesar.] For the opprobrium east on Caesar’s effeminacy, see +Suetonius, Julius Caesar, c. 49. + +v. 83. Guinicelli.] See Note to Canto XI. 96. + +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. + +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. + +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). + +The account there given of his writings is not much more satisfactory, +and the criticism on them must go for little better than nothing. + +It is to be regretted that we have not an opportunity of judging for +ourselves of his “love ditties and his tales of prose “ + +Versi d’amore e prose di romanzi. + +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. + +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. + +v. 118. Guittone.] See Cano XXIV. 56. + +v. 123. Far as needs.] See Canto XI. 23. + +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. + +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.” + +CANTO XXVII + + +v. 1. The sun.] At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight, and in +India noonday, while it was sunset in Purgatory + +v. 10. Blessed.] Matt. c. v. 8. + +v. 57. Come.] Matt. c. xxv. 34. + +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. + +v. 135. Those bright eyes.] The eyes of Beatrice. + +CANTO XXVIII + + +v. 11. To that part.] The west. + +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.” + +v. 7. A pleasant air.] Compare Ariosto, O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 50. + +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. + +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. + +v. 80. Thou, Lord hast made me glad.] Psalm xcii. 4 + +v. 146. On the Parnassian mountain.] In bicipiti somniasse Parnasso. +Persius Prol. + +CANTO XXIX + + +v. 76. Listed colours.] +Di sette liste tutte in quel colori, &c. +—a bow +Conspicuous with three listed colours gay. +Milton, P. L. b. xi. 865. + +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. + +v. 89. Four.] The four evangelists. + +v. 96. Ezekiel.] Chap. 1. 4. + +v. 101. John.] Rev. c. iv. 8. + +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. + +v. 115. Tellus’ prayer.] Ovid, Met. 1. ii. v. 279. + +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. + +v. 125. A band quaternion.] The four moral or cardinal virtues, of whom +Prudence directs the others. + +v. 129. Two old men.] Saint Luke, characterized as the writer of the +Arts of the Apostles and Saint Paul. + +v. 133. Of the great Coan.] Hippocrates, “whom nature made for the +benefit of her favourite creature, man.” + +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. + +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. + +E’l vecchio, ch’ era dietro a tutti loro +Fu Moyse. + +And the old man, who was behind them all, +Was Moses. +See No. 3459 of the Harl. MSS. in the British Museum. + +CANTO XXX + + +v. 1. The polar light.] The seven candlesticks. + +v. 12. Come.] Song of Solomon, c. iv. 8. + +v. 19. Blessed.] Matt. c. xxi. 9. + +v. 20. From full hands.] Virg. Aen 1. vi. 884. + +v. 97. The old flame.] Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae Virg. Aen. I. +I. 23. + +Conosco i segni dell’ antico fuoco. +Giusto de’ Conti, La Bella Mano. + +v. 61. Nor.] “Not all the beauties of the terrestrial Paradise; in +which I was, were sufficient to allay my grief.” + +v. 85. But.] They sang the thirty-first Psalm, to the end of the eighth +verse. + +v. 87. The living rafters.] The leafless woods on the Apennine. + +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.” + +v. 98. The ice.] Milton has transferred this conceit, though scarcely +worth the pains of removing, into one of his Italian poems, son. + +CANTO XXXI + + +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. + +v. 39. Counter to the edge.] “The weapons of divine justice are blunted +by the confession and sorrow of the offender.” + +v. 58. Bird.] Prov. c. i. 17 + +v. 69. From Iarbas’ land.] The south. + +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.” + +v. 98. Tu asperges me.] A prayer repeated by the priest at sprinkling +the holy water. + +v. 106. And in the heaven are stars.] See Canto I. 24. + +v. 116. The emeralds.] The eyes of Beatrice. + +CANTO XXXII + + +v. 2. Their ten years’ thirst.] Beatrice had been dead ten years. + +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” + +v. 39. Its tresses.] Daniel, c. iv. 10, &c. + +v. 41. The Indians.] +Quos oceano proprior gerit India lucos. +Virg. Georg. 1. ii. 122, +Such as at this day to Indians known. +Milton, P. L. b. ix. 1102. + +v. 51. When large floods of radiance.] When the sun enters into Aries, +the constellation next to that of the Fish. + +v. 63. Th’ unpitying eyes.] See Ovid, Met. 1. i. 689. + +v. 74. The blossoming of that fair tree.] Our Saviour’s +transfiguration. + +v. 97. Those lights.] The tapers of gold. + +v. 101. That true Rome.] Heaven. + +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. + +v. 118. A fox.] By the fox perhaps is represented the treachery of the +heretics. + +v. 124. With his feathers lin’d.]. An allusion to the donations made by +the Roman Emperors to the church. + +v. 130. A dragon.] Probably Mahomet. + +v. 136. With plumes.] The donations before mentioned. + +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. + +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. + +v. 155. Dragg’d on.] The removal of the Pope’s residence from Rome to +Avignon is pointed at. + +CANTO XXXIII + + +v. 1. The Heathen.] Psalm lxxix. 1. + +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.” + +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. + +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; + +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 + +Events shall be the Oedipus will solve, &c. + +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. + +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. + +Che si reca ’I bordon di palma cinto. + +“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. + + + + +PARADISE + + + + +CANTO I + + +His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d, +Pierces the universe, and in one part +Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav’n, +That largeliest of his light partakes, was I, +Witness of things, which to relate again +Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence; +For that, so near approaching its desire +Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d, +That memory cannot follow. Nathless all, +That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm +Could store, shall now be matter of my song. + +Benign Apollo! this last labour aid, +And make me such a vessel of thy worth, +As thy own laurel claims of me belov’d. +Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus’ brows +Suffic’d me; henceforth there is need of both +For my remaining enterprise Do thou +Enter into my bosom, and there breathe +So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg’d +Forth from his limbs unsheath’d. O power divine! +If thou to me of shine impart so much, +That of that happy realm the shadow’d form +Trac’d in my thoughts I may set forth to view, +Thou shalt behold me of thy favour’d tree +Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves; +For to that honour thou, and my high theme +Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire! +To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath +Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills +Deprav’d) joy to the Delphic god must spring +From the Pierian foliage, when one breast +Is with such thirst inspir’d. From a small spark +Great flame hath risen: after me perchance +Others with better voice may pray, and gain +From the Cirrhaean city answer kind. + +Through diver passages, the world’s bright lamp +Rises to mortals, but through that which joins +Four circles with the threefold cross, in best +Course, and in happiest constellation set +He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives +Its temper and impression. Morning there, +Here eve was by almost such passage made; +And whiteness had o’erspread that hemisphere, +Blackness the other part; when to the left +I saw Beatrice turn’d, and on the sun +Gazing, as never eagle fix’d his ken. +As from the first a second beam is wont +To issue, and reflected upwards rise, +E’en as a pilgrim bent on his return, +So of her act, that through the eyesight pass’d +Into my fancy, mine was form’d; and straight, +Beyond our mortal wont, I fix’d mine eyes +Upon the sun. Much is allowed us there, +That here exceeds our pow’r; thanks to the place +Made for the dwelling of the human kind + +I suffer’d it not long, and yet so long +That I beheld it bick’ring sparks around, +As iron that comes boiling from the fire. +And suddenly upon the day appear’d +A day new-ris’n, as he, who hath the power, +Had with another sun bedeck’d the sky. + +Her eyes fast fix’d on the eternal wheels, +Beatrice stood unmov’d; and I with ken +Fix’d upon her, from upward gaze remov’d +At her aspect, such inwardly became +As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb, +That made him peer among the ocean gods; +Words may not tell of that transhuman change: +And therefore let the example serve, though weak, +For those whom grace hath better proof in store + +If I were only what thou didst create, +Then newly, Love! by whom the heav’n is rul’d, +Thou know’st, who by thy light didst bear me up. +Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide, +Desired Spirit! with its harmony +Temper’d of thee and measur’d, charm’d mine ear, +Then seem’d to me so much of heav’n to blaze +With the sun’s flame, that rain or flood ne’er made +A lake so broad. The newness of the sound, +And that great light, inflam’d me with desire, +Keener than e’er was felt, to know their cause. + +Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself, +To calm my troubled mind, before I ask’d, +Open’d her lips, and gracious thus began: +“With false imagination thou thyself +Mak’st dull, so that thou seest not the thing, +Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off. +Thou art not on the earth as thou believ’st; +For light’ning scap’d from its own proper place +Ne’er ran, as thou hast hither now return’d.” + +Although divested of my first-rais’d doubt, +By those brief words, accompanied with smiles, +Yet in new doubt was I entangled more, +And said: “Already satisfied, I rest +From admiration deep, but now admire +How I above those lighter bodies rise.” + +Whence, after utt’rance of a piteous sigh, +She tow’rds me bent her eyes, with such a look, +As on her frenzied child a mother casts; +Then thus began: “Among themselves all things +Have order; and from hence the form, which makes +The universe resemble God. In this +The higher creatures see the printed steps +Of that eternal worth, which is the end +Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean, +In this their order, diversely, some more, +Some less approaching to their primal source. +Thus they to different havens are mov’d on +Through the vast sea of being, and each one +With instinct giv’n, that bears it in its course; +This to the lunar sphere directs the fire, +This prompts the hearts of mortal animals, +This the brute earth together knits, and binds. +Nor only creatures, void of intellect, +Are aim’d at by this bow; hut even those, +That have intelligence and love, are pierc’d. +That Providence, who so well orders all, +With her own light makes ever calm the heaven, +In which the substance, that hath greatest speed, +Is turn’d: and thither now, as to our seat +Predestin’d, we are carried by the force +Of that strong cord, that never looses dart, +But at fair aim and glad. Yet is it true, +That as ofttimes but ill accords the form +To the design of art, through sluggishness +Of unreplying matter, so this course +Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who +Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere; +As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall, +From its original impulse warp’d, to earth, +By vicious fondness. Thou no more admire +Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse +Of torrent downwards from a mountain’s height. +There would in thee for wonder be more cause, +If, free of hind’rance, thou hadst fix’d thyself +Below, like fire unmoving on the earth.” + +So said, she turn’d toward the heav’n her face. + + + + +CANTO II + + +All ye, who in small bark have following sail’d, +Eager to listen, on the advent’rous track +Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way, +Backward return with speed, and your own shores +Revisit, nor put out to open sea, +Where losing me, perchance ye may remain +Bewilder’d in deep maze. The way I pass +Ne’er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale, +Apollo guides me, and another Nine +To my rapt sight the arctic beams reveal. +Ye other few, who have outstretch’d the neck. +Timely for food of angels, on which here +They live, yet never know satiety, +Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out +Your vessel, marking, well the furrow broad +Before you in the wave, that on both sides +Equal returns. Those, glorious, who pass’d o’er +To Colchos, wonder’d not as ye will do, +When they saw Jason following the plough. + +The increate perpetual thirst, that draws +Toward the realm of God’s own form, bore us +Swift almost as the heaven ye behold. + +Beatrice upward gaz’d, and I on her, +And in such space as on the notch a dart +Is plac’d, then loosen’d flies, I saw myself +Arriv’d, where wond’rous thing engag’d my sight. +Whence she, to whom no work of mine was hid, +Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair, +Bespake me: “Gratefully direct thy mind +To God, through whom to this first star we come.” + +Me seem’d as if a cloud had cover’d us, +Translucent, solid, firm, and polish’d bright, +Like adamant, which the sun’s beam had smit +Within itself the ever-during pearl +Receiv’d us, as the wave a ray of light +Receives, and rests unbroken. If I then +Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend +Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus +Another could endure, which needs must be +If body enter body, how much more +Must the desire inflame us to behold +That essence, which discovers by what means +God and our nature join’d! There will be seen +That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof, +But in itself intelligibly plain, +E’en as the truth that man at first believes. + +I answered: “Lady! I with thoughts devout, +Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him, +Who hath remov’d me from the mortal world. +But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots +Upon this body, which below on earth +Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?” + +She somewhat smil’d, then spake: “If mortals err +In their opinion, when the key of sense +Unlocks not, surely wonder’s weapon keen +Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find’st, the wings +Of reason to pursue the senses’ flight +Are short. But what thy own thought is, declare.” + +Then I: “What various here above appears, +Is caus’d, I deem, by bodies dense or rare.” + +She then resum’d: “Thou certainly wilt see +In falsehood thy belief o’erwhelm’d, if well +Thou listen to the arguments, which I +Shall bring to face it. The eighth sphere displays +Numberless lights, the which in kind and size +May be remark’d of different aspects; +If rare or dense of that were cause alone, +One single virtue then would be in all, +Alike distributed, or more, or less. +Different virtues needs must be the fruits +Of formal principles, and these, save one, +Will by thy reasoning be destroy’d. Beside, +If rarity were of that dusk the cause, +Which thou inquirest, either in some part +That planet must throughout be void, nor fed +With its own matter; or, as bodies share +Their fat and leanness, in like manner this +Must in its volume change the leaves. The first, +If it were true, had through the sun’s eclipse +Been manifested, by transparency +Of light, as through aught rare beside effus’d. +But this is not. Therefore remains to see +The other cause: and if the other fall, +Erroneous so must prove what seem’d to thee. +If not from side to side this rarity +Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence +Its contrary no further lets it pass. +And hence the beam, that from without proceeds, +Must be pour’d back, as colour comes, through glass +Reflected, which behind it lead conceals. +Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue +Than in the other part the ray is shown, +By being thence refracted farther back. +From this perplexity will free thee soon +Experience, if thereof thou trial make, +The fountain whence your arts derive their streame. +Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove +From thee alike, and more remote the third. +Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes; +Then turn’d toward them, cause behind thy back +A light to stand, that on the three shall shine, +And thus reflected come to thee from all. +Though that beheld most distant do not stretch +A space so ample, yet in brightness thou +Will own it equaling the rest. But now, +As under snow the ground, if the warm ray +Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue +And cold, that cover’d it before, so thee, +Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform +With light so lively, that the tremulous beam +Shall quiver where it falls. Within the heaven, +Where peace divine inhabits, circles round +A body, in whose virtue dies the being +Of all that it contains. The following heaven, +That hath so many lights, this being divides, +Through different essences, from it distinct, +And yet contain’d within it. The other orbs +Their separate distinctions variously +Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt. +Thus do these organs of the world proceed, +As thou beholdest now, from step to step, +Their influences from above deriving, +And thence transmitting downwards. Mark me well, +How through this passage to the truth I ford, +The truth thou lov’st, that thou henceforth alone, +May’st know to keep the shallows, safe, untold. + +“The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs, +As mallet by the workman’s hand, must needs +By blessed movers be inspir’d. This heaven, +Made beauteous by so many luminaries, +From the deep spirit, that moves its circling sphere, +Its image takes an impress as a seal: +And as the soul, that dwells within your dust, +Through members different, yet together form’d, +In different pow’rs resolves itself; e’en so +The intellectual efficacy unfolds +Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars; +On its own unity revolving still. +Different virtue compact different +Makes with the precious body it enlivens, +With which it knits, as life in you is knit. +From its original nature full of joy, +The virtue mingled through the body shines, +As joy through pupil of the living eye. +From hence proceeds, that which from light to light +Seems different, and not from dense or rare. +This is the formal cause, that generates +Proportion’d to its power, the dusk or clear.” + + + + +CANTO III + + +That sun, which erst with love my bosom warm’d +Had of fair truth unveil’d the sweet aspect, +By proof of right, and of the false reproof; +And I, to own myself convinc’d and free +Of doubt, as much as needed, rais’d my head +Erect for speech. But soon a sight appear’d, +Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix’d, +That of confession I no longer thought. + +As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave +Clear and unmov’d, and flowing not so deep +As that its bed is dark, the shape returns +So faint of our impictur’d lineaments, +That on white forehead set a pearl as strong +Comes to the eye: such saw I many a face, +All stretch’d to speak, from whence I straight conceiv’d +Delusion opposite to that, which rais’d +Between the man and fountain, amorous flame. + +Sudden, as I perceiv’d them, deeming these +Reflected semblances to see of whom +They were, I turn’d mine eyes, and nothing saw; +Then turn’d them back, directed on the light +Of my sweet guide, who smiling shot forth beams +From her celestial eyes. “Wonder not thou,” +She cry’d, “at this my smiling, when I see +Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth +It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont, +Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy. +True substances are these, which thou behold’st, +Hither through failure of their vow exil’d. +But speak thou with them; listen, and believe, +That the true light, which fills them with desire, +Permits not from its beams their feet to stray.” + +Straight to the shadow which for converse seem’d +Most earnest, I addressed me, and began, +As one by over-eagerness perplex’d: +“O spirit, born for joy! who in the rays +Of life eternal, of that sweetness know’st +The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far +All apprehension, me it well would please, +If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this +Your station here.” Whence she, with kindness prompt, +And eyes glist’ning with smiles: “Our charity, +To any wish by justice introduc’d, +Bars not the door, no more than she above, +Who would have all her court be like herself. +I was a virgin sister in the earth; +And if thy mind observe me well, this form, +With such addition grac’d of loveliness, +Will not conceal me long, but thou wilt know +Piccarda, in the tardiest sphere thus plac’d, +Here ’mid these other blessed also blest. +Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone +With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceiv’d, +Admitted to his order dwell in joy. +And this condition, which appears so low, +Is for this cause assign’d us, that our vows +Were in some part neglected and made void.” + +Whence I to her replied: “Something divine +Beams in your countenance, wond’rous fair, +From former knowledge quite transmuting you. +Therefore to recollect was I so slow. +But what thou sayst hath to my memory +Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms +Is easier. Yet inform me, ye, who here +Are happy, long ye for a higher place +More to behold, and more in love to dwell?” + +She with those other spirits gently smil’d, +Then answer’d with such gladness, that she seem’d +With love’s first flame to glow: “Brother! our will +Is in composure settled by the power +Of charity, who makes us will alone +What we possess, and nought beyond desire; +If we should wish to be exalted more, +Then must our wishes jar with the high will +Of him, who sets us here, which in these orbs +Thou wilt confess not possible, if here +To be in charity must needs befall, +And if her nature well thou contemplate. +Rather it is inherent in this state +Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within +The divine will, by which our wills with his +Are one. So that as we from step to step +Are plac’d throughout this kingdom, pleases all, +E’en as our King, who in us plants his will; +And in his will is our tranquillity; +It is the mighty ocean, whither tends +Whatever it creates and nature makes.” + +Then saw I clearly how each spot in heav’n +Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew +The supreme virtue show’r not over all. + +But as it chances, if one sort of food +Hath satiated, and of another still +The appetite remains, that this is ask’d, +And thanks for that return’d; e’en so did I +In word and motion, bent from her to learn +What web it was, through which she had not drawn +The shuttle to its point. She thus began: +“Exalted worth and perfectness of life +The Lady higher up enshrine in heaven, +By whose pure laws upon your nether earth +The robe and veil they wear, to that intent, +That e’en till death they may keep watch or sleep +With their great bridegroom, who accepts each vow, +Which to his gracious pleasure love conforms. +from the world, to follow her, when young +Escap’d; and, in her vesture mantling me, +Made promise of the way her sect enjoins. +Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt, +Forth snatch’d me from the pleasant cloister’s pale. +God knows how after that my life was fram’d. +This other splendid shape, which thou beholdst +At my right side, burning with all the light +Of this our orb, what of myself I tell +May to herself apply. From her, like me +A sister, with like violence were torn +The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows. +E’en when she to the world again was brought +In spite of her own will and better wont, +Yet not for that the bosom’s inward veil +Did she renounce. This is the luminary +Of mighty Constance, who from that loud blast, +Which blew the second over Suabia’s realm, +That power produc’d, which was the third and last.” + +She ceas’d from further talk, and then began +“Ave Maria” singing, and with that song +Vanish’d, as heavy substance through deep wave. + +Mine eye, that far as it was capable, +Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost, +Turn’d to the mark where greater want impell’d, +And bent on Beatrice all its gaze. +But she as light’ning beam’d upon my looks: +So that the sight sustain’d it not at first. +Whence I to question her became less prompt. + + + + +CANTO IV + + +Between two kinds of food, both equally +Remote and tempting, first a man might die +Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose. +E’en so would stand a lamb between the maw +Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike: +E’en so between two deer a dog would stand, +Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise +I to myself impute, by equal doubts +Held in suspense, since of necessity +It happen’d. Silent was I, yet desire +Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake +My wish more earnestly than language could. + +As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed +From ire, that spurr’d him on to deeds unjust +And violent; so look’d Beatrice then. + +“Well I discern,” she thus her words address’d, +“How contrary desires each way constrain thee, +So that thy anxious thought is in itself +Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth. +Thou arguest; if the good intent remain; +What reason that another’s violence +Should stint the measure of my fair desert? + +“Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems, +That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem’d, +Return. These are the questions which thy will +Urge equally; and therefore I the first +Of that will treat which hath the more of gall. +Of seraphim he who is most ensky’d, +Moses and Samuel, and either John, +Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary’s self, +Have not in any other heav’n their seats, +Than have those spirits which so late thou saw’st; +Nor more or fewer years exist; but all +Make the first circle beauteous, diversely +Partaking of sweet life, as more or less +Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them. +Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns +This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee +Of that celestial furthest from the height. +Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak: +Since from things sensible alone ye learn +That, which digested rightly after turns +To intellectual. For no other cause +The scripture, condescending graciously +To your perception, hands and feet to God +Attributes, nor so means: and holy church +Doth represent with human countenance +Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made +Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest, +The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms +Each soul restor’d to its particular star, +Believing it to have been taken thence, +When nature gave it to inform her mold: +Since to appearance his intention is +E’en what his words declare: or else to shun +Derision, haply thus he hath disguis’d +His true opinion. If his meaning be, +That to the influencing of these orbs revert +The honour and the blame in human acts, +Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth. +This principle, not understood aright, +Erewhile perverted well nigh all the world; +So that it fell to fabled names of Jove, +And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt, +Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings +No peril of removing thee from me. + +“That, to the eye of man, our justice seems +Unjust, is argument for faith, and not +For heretic declension. To the end +This truth may stand more clearly in your view, +I will content thee even to thy wish + +“If violence be, when that which suffers, nought +Consents to that which forceth, not for this +These spirits stood exculpate. For the will, +That will not, still survives unquench’d, and doth +As nature doth in fire, tho’ violence +Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield +Or more or less, so far it follows force. +And thus did these, whom they had power to seek +The hallow’d place again. In them, had will +Been perfect, such as once upon the bars +Held Laurence firm, or wrought in Scaevola +To his own hand remorseless, to the path, +Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten’d back, +When liberty return’d: but in too few +Resolve so steadfast dwells. And by these words +If duly weigh’d, that argument is void, +Which oft might have perplex’d thee still. But now +Another question thwarts thee, which to solve +Might try thy patience without better aid. +I have, no doubt, instill’d into thy mind, +That blessed spirit may not lie; since near +The source of primal truth it dwells for aye: +And thou might’st after of Piccarda learn +That Constance held affection to the veil; +So that she seems to contradict me here. +Not seldom, brother, it hath chanc’d for men +To do what they had gladly left undone, +Yet to shun peril they have done amiss: +E’en as Alcmaeon, at his father’s suit +Slew his own mother, so made pitiless +Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee, +That force and will are blended in such wise +As not to make the’ offence excusable. +Absolute will agrees not to the wrong, +That inasmuch as there is fear of woe +From non-compliance, it agrees. Of will +Thus absolute Piccarda spake, and I +Of th’ other; so that both have truly said.” + +Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well’d +From forth the fountain of all truth; and such +The rest, that to my wond’ring thoughts l found. + +“O thou of primal love the prime delight! +Goddess! “I straight reply’d, “whose lively words +Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul! +Affection fails me to requite thy grace +With equal sum of gratitude: be his +To recompense, who sees and can reward thee. +Well I discern, that by that truth alone +Enlighten’d, beyond which no truth may roam, +Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know: +Therein she resteth, e’en as in his lair +The wild beast, soon as she hath reach’d that bound, +And she hath power to reach it; else desire +Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt +Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth; +And it is nature which from height to height +On to the summit prompts us. This invites, +This doth assure me, lady, rev’rently +To ask thee of other truth, that yet +Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man +By other works well done may so supply +The failure of his vows, that in your scale +They lack not weight.” I spake; and on me straight +Beatrice look’d with eyes that shot forth sparks +Of love celestial in such copious stream, +That, virtue sinking in me overpower’d, +I turn’d, and downward bent confus’d my sight. + + + + +CANTO V + + +“If beyond earthly wont, the flame of love +Illume me, so that I o’ercome thy power +Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause +In that perfection of the sight, which soon +As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach +The good it apprehends. I well discern, +How in thine intellect already shines +The light eternal, which to view alone +Ne’er fails to kindle love; and if aught else +Your love seduces, ’tis but that it shows +Some ill-mark’d vestige of that primal beam. + +“This would’st thou know, if failure of the vow +By other service may be so supplied, +As from self-question to assure the soul.” + +Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish, +Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off +Discourse, continued in her saintly strain. +“Supreme of gifts, which God creating gave +Of his free bounty, sign most evident +Of goodness, and in his account most priz’d, +Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith +All intellectual creatures, and them sole +He hath endow’d. Hence now thou mayst infer +Of what high worth the vow, which so is fram’d +That when man offers, God well-pleas’d accepts; +For in the compact between God and him, +This treasure, such as I describe it to thee, +He makes the victim, and of his own act. +What compensation therefore may he find? +If that, whereof thou hast oblation made, +By using well thou think’st to consecrate, +Thou would’st of theft do charitable deed. +Thus I resolve thee of the greater point. + +“But forasmuch as holy church, herein +Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth +I have discover’d to thee, yet behooves +Thou rest a little longer at the board, +Ere the crude aliment, which thou hast taken, +Digested fitly to nutrition turn. +Open thy mind to what I now unfold, +And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comes +Of learning well retain’d, unfruitful else. + +“This sacrifice in essence of two things +Consisteth; one is that, whereof ’tis made, +The covenant the other. For the last, +It ne’er is cancell’d if not kept: and hence +I spake erewhile so strictly of its force. +For this it was enjoin’d the Israelites, +Though leave were giv’n them, as thou know’st, to change +The offering, still to offer. Th’ other part, +The matter and the substance of the vow, +May well be such, to that without offence +It may for other substance be exchang’d. +But at his own discretion none may shift +The burden on his shoulders, unreleas’d +By either key, the yellow and the white. +Nor deem of any change, as less than vain, +If the last bond be not within the new +Included, as the quatre in the six. +No satisfaction therefore can be paid +For what so precious in the balance weighs, +That all in counterpoise must kick the beam. +Take then no vow at random: ta’en, with faith +Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once, +Blindly to execute a rash resolve, +Whom better it had suited to exclaim, +‘I have done ill,’ than to redeem his pledge +By doing worse or, not unlike to him +In folly, that great leader of the Greeks: +Whence, on the alter, Iphigenia mourn’d +Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn +Both wise and simple, even all, who hear +Of so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid, +O Christians, not, like feather, by each wind +Removable: nor think to cleanse ourselves +In every water. Either testament, +The old and new, is yours: and for your guide +The shepherd of the church let this suffice +To save you. When by evil lust entic’d, +Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts; +Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets, +Hold you in mock’ry. Be not, as the lamb, +That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother’s milk, +To dally with itself in idle play.” + +Such were the words that Beatrice spake: +These ended, to that region, where the world +Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn’d. + +Though mainly prompt new question to propose, +Her silence and chang’d look did keep me dumb. +And as the arrow, ere the cord is still, +Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped +Into the second realm. There I beheld +The dame, so joyous enter, that the orb +Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star +Were mov’d to gladness, what then was my cheer, +Whom nature hath made apt for every change! + +As in a quiet and clear lake the fish, +If aught approach them from without, do draw +Towards it, deeming it their food; so drew +Full more than thousand splendours towards us, +And in each one was heard: “Lo! one arriv’d +To multiply our loves!” and as each came +The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new, +Witness’d augmented joy. Here, reader! think, +If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale, +To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave; +And thou shalt see what vehement desire +Possess’d me, as soon as these had met my view, +To know their state. “O born in happy hour! +Thou to whom grace vouchsafes, or ere thy close +Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones +Of that eternal triumph, know to us +The light communicated, which through heaven +Expatiates without bound. Therefore, if aught +Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid, +Spare not; and of our radiance take thy fill.” + +Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me; +And Beatrice next: “Say on; and trust +As unto gods!”—“How in the light supreme +Thou harbour’st, and from thence the virtue bring’st, +That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy, +l mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek; +Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lot +This sphere assign’d, that oft from mortal ken +Is veil’d by others’ beams.” I said, and turn’d +Toward the lustre, that with greeting, kind +Erewhile had hail’d me. Forthwith brighter far +Than erst, it wax’d: and, as himself the sun +Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze +Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey’d; +Within its proper ray the saintly shape +Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal’d; +And, shrouded so in splendour answer’d me, +E’en as the tenour of my song declares. + + + + +CANTO VI + + +“After that Constantine the eagle turn’d +Against the motions of the heav’n, that roll’d +Consenting with its course, when he of yore, +Lavinia’s spouse, was leader of the flight, +A hundred years twice told and more, his seat +At Europe’s extreme point, the bird of Jove +Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first. +There, under shadow of his sacred plumes +Swaying the world, till through successive hands +To mine he came devolv’d. Caesar I was, +And am Justinian; destin’d by the will +Of that prime love, whose influence I feel, +From vain excess to clear th’ encumber’d laws. +Or ere that work engag’d me, I did hold +Christ’s nature merely human, with such faith +Contented. But the blessed Agapete, +Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice +To the true faith recall’d me. I believ’d +His words: and what he taught, now plainly see, +As thou in every contradiction seest +The true and false oppos’d. Soon as my feet +Were to the church reclaim’d, to my great task, +By inspiration of God’s grace impell’d, +I gave me wholly, and consign’d mine arms +To Belisarius, with whom heaven’s right hand +Was link’d in such conjointment, ’twas a sign +That I should rest. To thy first question thus +I shape mine answer, which were ended here, +But that its tendency doth prompt perforce +To some addition; that thou well, mayst mark +What reason on each side they have to plead, +By whom that holiest banner is withstood, +Both who pretend its power and who oppose. + “Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died +To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds +Have made it worthy reverence. Not unknown +To thee, how for three hundred years and more +It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists +Where for its sake were met the rival three; +Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achiev’d +Down to the Sabines’ wrong to Lucrece’ woe, +With its sev’n kings conqu’ring the nation round; +Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies home +’Gainst Brennus and th’ Epirot prince, and hosts +Of single chiefs, or states in league combin’d +Of social warfare; hence Torquatus stern, +And Quintius nam’d of his neglected locks, +The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquir’d +Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm. +By it the pride of Arab hordes was quell’d, +When they led on by Hannibal o’erpass’d +The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po! +Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days +Scipio and Pompey triumph’d; and that hill, +Under whose summit thou didst see the light, +Rued its stern bearing. After, near the hour, +When heav’n was minded that o’er all the world +His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar’s hand +Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought +From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere’s flood, +Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills +The torrent Rhone. What after that it wrought, +When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap’d +The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight, +That tongue nor pen may follow it. Tow’rds Spain +It wheel’d its bands, then tow’rd Dyrrachium smote, +And on Pharsalia with so fierce a plunge, +E’en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang; +Its native shores Antandros, and the streams +Of Simois revisited, and there +Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy +His pennons shook again; lightning thence fell +On Juba; and the next upon your west, +At sound of the Pompeian trump, return’d. + +“What following and in its next bearer’s gripe +It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus +Bark’d off in hell, and by Perugia’s sons +And Modena’s was mourn’d. Hence weepeth still +Sad Cleopatra, who, pursued by it, +Took from the adder black and sudden death. +With him it ran e’en to the Red Sea coast; +With him compos’d the world to such a peace, +That of his temple Janus barr’d the door. + +“But all the mighty standard yet had wrought, +And was appointed to perform thereafter, +Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway’d, +Falls in appearance dwindled and obscur’d, +If one with steady eye and perfect thought +On the third Caesar look; for to his hands, +The living Justice, in whose breath I move, +Committed glory, e’en into his hands, +To execute the vengeance of its wrath. + +“Hear now and wonder at what next I tell. +After with Titus it was sent to wreak +Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin, +And, when the Lombard tooth, with fangs impure, +Did gore the bosom of the holy church, +Under its wings victorious, Charlemagne +Sped to her rescue. Judge then for thyself +Of those, whom I erewhile accus’d to thee, +What they are, and how grievous their offending, +Who are the cause of all your ills. The one +Against the universal ensign rears +The yellow lilies, and with partial aim +That to himself the other arrogates: +So that ’tis hard to see which more offends. +Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your arts +Beneath another standard: ill is this +Follow’d of him, who severs it and justice: +And let not with his Guelphs the new-crown’d Charles +Assail it, but those talons hold in dread, +Which from a lion of more lofty port +Have rent the easing. Many a time ere now +The sons have for the sire’s transgression wail’d; +Nor let him trust the fond belief, that heav’n +Will truck its armour for his lilied shield. + +“This little star is furnish’d with good spirits, +Whose mortal lives were busied to that end, +That honour and renown might wait on them: +And, when desires thus err in their intention, +True love must needs ascend with slacker beam. +But it is part of our delight, to measure +Our wages with the merit; and admire +The close proportion. Hence doth heav’nly justice +Temper so evenly affection in us, +It ne’er can warp to any wrongfulness. +Of diverse voices is sweet music made: +So in our life the different degrees +Render sweet harmony among these wheels. + +“Within the pearl, that now encloseth us, +Shines Romeo’s light, whose goodly deed and fair +Met ill acceptance. But the Provencals, +That were his foes, have little cause for mirth. +Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong +Of other’s worth. Four daughters were there born +To Raymond Berenger, and every one +Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo, +Though of mean state and from a foreign land. +Yet envious tongues incited him to ask +A reckoning of that just one, who return’d +Twelve fold to him for ten. Aged and poor +He parted thence: and if the world did know +The heart he had, begging his life by morsels, +’Twould deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt.” + + + + +CANTO VII + + +“Hosanna Sanctus Deus Sabaoth +Superillustrans claritate tua +Felices ignes horum malahoth!” +Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright +With fourfold lustre to its orb again, +Revolving; and the rest unto their dance +With it mov’d also; and like swiftest sparks, +In sudden distance from my sight were veil’d. + +Me doubt possess’d, and “Speak,” it whisper’d me, +“Speak, speak unto thy lady, that she quench +Thy thirst with drops of sweetness.” Yet blank awe, +Which lords it o’er me, even at the sound +Of Beatrice’s name, did bow me down +As one in slumber held. Not long that mood +Beatrice suffer’d: she, with such a smile, +As might have made one blest amid the flames, +Beaming upon me, thus her words began: +“Thou in thy thought art pond’ring (as I deem, +And what I deem is truth how just revenge +Could be with justice punish’d: from which doubt +I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words; +For they of weighty matter shall possess thee. + +“That man, who was unborn, himself condemn’d, +And, in himself, all, who since him have liv’d, +His offspring: whence, below, the human kind +Lay sick in grievous error many an age; +Until it pleas’d the Word of God to come +Amongst them down, to his own person joining +The nature, from its Maker far estrang’d, +By the mere act of his eternal love. +Contemplate here the wonder I unfold. +The nature with its Maker thus conjoin’d, +Created first was blameless, pure and good; +But through itself alone was driven forth +From Paradise, because it had eschew’d +The way of truth and life, to evil turn’d. +Ne’er then was penalty so just as that +Inflicted by the cross, if thou regard +The nature in assumption doom’d: ne’er wrong +So great, in reference to him, who took +Such nature on him, and endur’d the doom. +God therefore and the Jews one sentence pleased: +So different effects flow’d from one act, +And heav’n was open’d, though the earth did quake. +Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear +That a just vengeance was by righteous court +Justly reveng’d. But yet I see thy mind +By thought on thought arising sore perplex’d, +And with how vehement desire it asks +Solution of the maze. What I have heard, +Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way +For our redemption chose, eludes my search. + +“Brother! no eye of man not perfected, +Nor fully ripen’d in the flame of love, +May fathom this decree. It is a mark, +In sooth, much aim’d at, and but little kenn’d: +And I will therefore show thee why such way +Was worthiest. The celestial love, that spume +All envying in its bounty, in itself +With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth +All beauteous things eternal. What distils +Immediate thence, no end of being knows, +Bearing its seal immutably impress’d. +Whatever thence immediate falls, is free, +Free wholly, uncontrollable by power +Of each thing new: by such conformity +More grateful to its author, whose bright beams, +Though all partake their shining, yet in those +Are liveliest, which resemble him the most. +These tokens of pre-eminence on man +Largely bestow’d, if any of them fail, +He needs must forfeit his nobility, +No longer stainless. Sin alone is that, +Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike +To the chief good; for that its light in him +Is darken’d. And to dignity thus lost +Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void, +He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain. +Your nature, which entirely in its seed +Trangress’d, from these distinctions fell, no less +Than from its state in Paradise; nor means +Found of recovery (search all methods out +As strickly as thou may) save one of these, +The only fords were left through which to wade, +Either that God had of his courtesy +Releas’d him merely, or else man himself +For his own folly by himself aton’d. + +“Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst, +On th’ everlasting counsel, and explore, +Instructed by my words, the dread abyss. + +“Man in himself had ever lack’d the means +Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop +Obeying, in humility so low, +As high he, disobeying, thought to soar: +And for this reason he had vainly tried +Out of his own sufficiency to pay +The rigid satisfaction. Then behooved +That God should by his own ways lead him back +Unto the life, from whence he fell, restor’d: +By both his ways, I mean, or one alone. +But since the deed is ever priz’d the more, +The more the doer’s good intent appears, +Goodness celestial, whose broad signature +Is on the universe, of all its ways +To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none, +Nor aught so vast or so magnificent, +Either for him who gave or who receiv’d +Between the last night and the primal day, +Was or can be. For God more bounty show’d. +Giving himself to make man capable +Of his return to life, than had the terms +Been mere and unconditional release. +And for his justice, every method else +Were all too scant, had not the Son of God +Humbled himself to put on mortal flesh. + +“Now, to fulfil each wish of thine, remains +I somewhat further to thy view unfold. +That thou mayst see as clearly as myself. + +“I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see, +The earth and water, and all things of them +Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon +Dissolve. Yet these were also things create, +Because, if what were told me, had been true +They from corruption had been therefore free. + +“The angels, O my brother! and this clime +Wherein thou art, impassible and pure, +I call created, as indeed they are +In their whole being. But the elements, +Which thou hast nam’d, and what of them is made, +Are by created virtue’ inform’d: create +Their substance, and create the’ informing virtue +In these bright stars, that round them circling move +The soul of every brute and of each plant, +The ray and motion of the sacred lights, +With complex potency attract and turn. +But this our life the’ eternal good inspires +Immediate, and enamours of itself; +So that our wishes rest for ever here. + +“And hence thou mayst by inference conclude +Our resurrection certain, if thy mind +Consider how the human flesh was fram’d, +When both our parents at the first were made.” + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +The world was in its day of peril dark +Wont to believe the dotage of fond love +From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls +In her third epicycle, shed on men +By stream of potent radiance: therefore they +Of elder time, in their old error blind, +Not her alone with sacrifice ador’d +And invocation, but like honours paid +To Cupid and Dione, deem’d of them +Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign’d +To sit in Dido’s bosom: and from her, +Whom I have sung preluding, borrow’d they +The appellation of that star, which views, +Now obvious and now averse, the sun. + +I was not ware that I was wafted up +Into its orb; but the new loveliness +That grac’d my lady, gave me ample proof +That we had entered there. And as in flame +A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice +Discern’d, when one its even tenour keeps, +The other comes and goes; so in that light +I other luminaries saw, that cours’d +In circling motion. rapid more or less, +As their eternal phases each impels. + +Never was blast from vapour charged with cold, +Whether invisible to eye or no, +Descended with such speed, it had not seem’d +To linger in dull tardiness, compar’d +To those celestial lights, that tow’rds us came, +Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring, +Conducted by the lofty seraphim. +And after them, who in the van appear’d, +Such an hosanna sounded, as hath left +Desire, ne’er since extinct in me, to hear +Renew’d the strain. Then parting from the rest +One near us drew, and sole began: “We all +Are ready at thy pleasure, well dispos’d +To do thee gentle service. We are they, +To whom thou in the world erewhile didst Sing +‘O ye! whose intellectual ministry +Moves the third heaven!’ and in one orb we roll, +One motion, one impulse, with those who rule +Princedoms in heaven; yet are of love so full, +That to please thee ’twill be as sweet to rest.” + +After mine eyes had with meek reverence +Sought the celestial guide, and were by her +Assur’d, they turn’d again unto the light +Who had so largely promis’d, and with voice +That bare the lively pressure of my zeal, +“Tell who ye are,” I cried. Forthwith it grew +In size and splendour, through augmented joy; +And thus it answer’d: “A short date below +The world possess’d me. Had the time been more, +Much evil, that will come, had never chanc’d. +My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine . +Around, and shroud me, as an animal +In its own silk enswath’d. Thou lov’dst me well, +And had’st good cause; for had my sojourning +Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee +Had put forth more than blossoms. The left bank, +That Rhone, when he hath mix’d with Sorga, laves. +In me its lord expected, and that horn +Of fair Ausonia, with its boroughs old, +Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta pil’d, +From where the Trento disembogues his waves, +With Verde mingled, to the salt sea-flood. +Already on my temples beam’d the crown, +Which gave me sov’reignty over the land +By Danube wash’d, whenas he strays beyond +The limits of his German shores. The realm, +Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash’d, +Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights, +The beautiful Trinacria lies in gloom +(Not through Typhaeus, but the vap’ry cloud +Bituminous upsteam’d), THAT too did look +To have its scepter wielded by a race +Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Rodolph; +had not ill lording which doth spirit up +The people ever, in Palermo rais’d +The shout of ‘death,’ re-echo’d loud and long. +Had but my brother’s foresight kenn’d as much, +He had been warier that the greedy want +Of Catalonia might not work his bale. +And truly need there is, that he forecast, +Or other for him, lest more freight be laid +On his already over-laden bark. +Nature in him, from bounty fall’n to thrift, +Would ask the guard of braver arms, than such +As only care to have their coffers fill’d.” + +“My liege, it doth enhance the joy thy words +Infuse into me, mighty as it is, +To think my gladness manifest to thee, +As to myself, who own it, when thou lookst +Into the source and limit of all good, +There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak, +Thence priz’d of me the more. Glad thou hast made me. +Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt +Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse, +How bitter can spring up, when sweet is sown.” + +I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied: +“If I have power to show one truth, soon that +Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares +Behind thee now conceal’d. The Good, that guides +And blessed makes this realm, which thou dost mount, +Ordains its providence to be the virtue +In these great bodies: nor th’ all perfect Mind +Upholds their nature merely, but in them +Their energy to save: for nought, that lies +Within the range of that unerring bow, +But is as level with the destin’d aim, +As ever mark to arrow’s point oppos’d. +Were it not thus, these heavens, thou dost visit, +Would their effect so work, it would not be +Art, but destruction; and this may not chance, +If th’ intellectual powers, that move these stars, +Fail not, or who, first faulty made them fail. +Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenc’d?” + +To whom I thus: “It is enough: no fear, +I see, lest nature in her part should tire.” + +He straight rejoin’d: “Say, were it worse for man, +If he liv’d not in fellowship on earth?” + +“Yea,” answer’d I; “nor here a reason needs.” + +“And may that be, if different estates +Grow not of different duties in your life? +Consult your teacher, and he tells you ‘no.’” + +Thus did he come, deducing to this point, +And then concluded: “For this cause behooves, +The roots, from whence your operations come, +Must differ. Therefore one is Solon born; +Another, Xerxes; and Melchisidec +A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage +Cost him his son. In her circuitous course, +Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax, +Doth well her art, but no distinctions owns +’Twixt one or other household. Hence befalls +That Esau is so wide of Jacob: hence +Quirinus of so base a father springs, +He dates from Mars his lineage. Were it not +That providence celestial overrul’d, +Nature, in generation, must the path +Trac’d by the generator, still pursue +Unswervingly. Thus place I in thy sight +That, which was late behind thee. But, in sign +Of more affection for thee, ’tis my will +Thou wear this corollary. Nature ever +Finding discordant fortune, like all seed +Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill. +And were the world below content to mark +And work on the foundation nature lays, +It would not lack supply of excellence. +But ye perversely to religion strain +Him, who was born to gird on him the sword, +And of the fluent phrasemen make your king; +Therefore your steps have wander’d from the paths.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +After solution of my doubt, thy Charles, +O fair Clemenza, of the treachery spake +That must befall his seed: but, “Tell it not,” +Said he, “and let the destin’d years come round.” +Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed +Of sorrow well-deserv’d shall quit your wrongs. + +And now the visage of that saintly light +Was to the sun, that fills it, turn’d again, +As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss +Sufficeth all. O ye misguided souls! +Infatuate, who from such a good estrange +Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity, +Alas for you!—And lo! toward me, next, +Another of those splendent forms approach’d, +That, by its outward bright’ning, testified +The will it had to pleasure me. The eyes +Of Beatrice, resting, as before, +Firmly upon me, manifested forth +Approva1 of my wish. “And O,” I cried, +Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform’d; +And prove thou to me, that my inmost thoughts +I can reflect on thee.” Thereat the light, +That yet was new to me, from the recess, +Where it before was singing, thus began, +As one who joys in kindness: “In that part +Of the deprav’d Italian land, which lies +Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs +Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise, +But to no lofty eminence, a hill, +From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend, +That sorely sheet the region. From one root +I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza: +And here I glitter, for that by its light +This star o’ercame me. Yet I naught repine, +Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot, +Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive. + +“This jewel, that is next me in our heaven, +Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left, +And not to perish, ere these hundred years +Five times absolve their round. Consider thou, +If to excel be worthy man’s endeavour, +When such life may attend the first. Yet they +Care not for this, the crowd that now are girt +By Adice and Tagliamento, still +Impenitent, tho’ scourg’d. The hour is near, +When for their stubbornness at Padua’s marsh +The water shall be chang’d, that laves Vicena +And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one +Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom +The web is now a-warping. Feltro too +Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd’s fault, +Of so deep stain, that never, for the like, +Was Malta’s bar unclos’d. Too large should be +The skillet, that would hold Ferrara’s blood, +And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weight it, +The which this priest, in show of party-zeal, +Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit +The country’s custom. We descry above, +Mirrors, ye call them thrones, from which to us +Reflected shine the judgments of our God: +Whence these our sayings we avouch for good.” + +She ended, and appear’d on other thoughts +Intent, re-ent’ring on the wheel she late +Had left. That other joyance meanwhile wax’d +A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing, +Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun, +For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes +Of gladness, as here laughter: and below, +As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade. + +“God seeth all: and in him is thy sight,” +Said I, “blest Spirit! Therefore will of his +Cannot to thee be dark. Why then delays +Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold, +That voice which joins the inexpressive song, +Pastime of heav’n, the which those ardours sing, +That cowl them with six shadowing wings outspread? +I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known +To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known.” + +He forthwith answ’ring, thus his words began: +“The valley’ of waters, widest next to that +Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course, +Between discordant shores, against the sun +Inward so far, it makes meridian there, +Where was before th’ horizon. Of that vale +Dwelt I upon the shore, ’twixt Ebro’s stream +And Macra’s, that divides with passage brief +Genoan bounds from Tuscan. East and west +Are nearly one to Begga and my land, +Whose haven erst was with its own blood warm. +Who knew my name were wont to call me Folco: +And I did bear impression of this heav’n, +That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame +Glow’d Belus’ daughter, injuring alike +Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I, +Long as it suited the unripen’d down +That fledg’d my cheek: nor she of Rhodope, +That was beguiled of Demophoon; +Nor Jove’s son, when the charms of Iole +Were shrin’d within his heart. And yet there hides +No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth, +Not for the fault (that doth not come to mind), +But for the virtue, whose o’erruling sway +And providence have wrought thus quaintly. Here +The skill is look’d into, that fashioneth +With such effectual working, and the good +Discern’d, accruing to this upper world +From that below. But fully to content +Thy wishes, all that in this sphere have birth, +Demands my further parle. Inquire thou wouldst, +Who of this light is denizen, that here +Beside me sparkles, as the sun-beam doth +On the clear wave. Know then, the soul of Rahab +Is in that gladsome harbour, to our tribe +United, and the foremost rank assign’d. +He to that heav’n, at which the shadow ends +Of your sublunar world, was taken up, +First, in Christ’s triumph, of all souls redeem’d: +For well behoov’d, that, in some part of heav’n, +She should remain a trophy, to declare +The mighty contest won with either palm; +For that she favour’d first the high exploit +Of Joshua on the holy land, whereof +The Pope recks little now. Thy city, plant +Of him, that on his Maker turn’d the back, +And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung, +Engenders and expands the cursed flower, +That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs, +Turning the shepherd to a wolf. For this, +The gospel and great teachers laid aside, +The decretals, as their stuft margins show, +Are the sole study. Pope and Cardinals, +Intent on these, ne’er journey but in thought +To Nazareth, where Gabriel op’d his wings. +Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican, +And other most selected parts of Rome, +That were the grave of Peter’s soldiery, +Shall be deliver’d from the adult’rous bond.” + + + + +CANTO X + + +Looking into his first-born with the love, +Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might +Ineffable, whence eye or mind +Can roam, hath in such order all dispos’d, +As none may see and fail to’ enjoy. Raise, then, +O reader! to the lofty wheels, with me, +Thy ken directed to the point, whereat +One motion strikes on th’ other. There begin +Thy wonder of the mighty Architect, +Who loves his work so inwardly, his eye +Doth ever watch it. See, how thence oblique +Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll +To pour their wished influence on the world; +Whose path not bending thus, in heav’n above +Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth, +All power well nigh extinct: or, from direct +Were its departure distant more or less, +I’ th’ universal order, great defect +Must, both in heav’n and here beneath, ensue. + +Now rest thee, reader! on thy bench, and muse +Anticipative of the feast to come; +So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil. +Lo! I have set before thee, for thyself +Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth +Demands entire my thought. Join’d with the part, +Which late we told of, the great minister +Of nature, that upon the world imprints +The virtue of the heaven, and doles out +Time for us with his beam, went circling on +Along the spires, where each hour sooner comes; +And I was with him, weetless of ascent, +As one, who till arriv’d, weets not his coming. + +For Beatrice, she who passeth on +So suddenly from good to better, time +Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs +Have been her brightness! What she was i’ th’ sun +(Where I had enter’d), not through change of hue, +But light transparent—did I summon up +Genius, art, practice—I might not so speak, +It should be e’er imagin’d: yet believ’d +It may be, and the sight be justly crav’d. +And if our fantasy fail of such height, +What marvel, since no eye above the sun +Hath ever travel’d? Such are they dwell here, +Fourth family of the Omnipotent Sire, +Who of his spirit and of his offspring shows; +And holds them still enraptur’d with the view. +And thus to me Beatrice: “Thank, oh thank, +The Sun of angels, him, who by his grace +To this perceptible hath lifted thee.” + +Never was heart in such devotion bound, +And with complacency so absolute +Dispos’d to render up itself to God, +As mine was at those words: and so entire +The love for Him, that held me, it eclips’d +Beatrice in oblivion. Naught displeas’d +Was she, but smil’d thereat so joyously, +That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake +And scatter’d my collected mind abroad. + +Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness +Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown, +And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice, +Than in their visage beaming. Cinctur’d thus, +Sometime Latona’s daughter we behold, +When the impregnate air retains the thread, +That weaves her zone. In the celestial court, +Whence I return, are many jewels found, +So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook +Transporting from that realm: and of these lights +Such was the song. Who doth not prune his wing +To soar up thither, let him look from thence +For tidings from the dumb. When, singing thus, +Those burning suns that circled round us thrice, +As nearest stars around the fixed pole, +Then seem’d they like to ladies, from the dance +Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause, +List’ning, till they have caught the strain anew: +Suspended so they stood: and, from within, +Thus heard I one, who spake: “Since with its beam +The grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame, +That after doth increase by loving, shines +So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up +Along this ladder, down whose hallow’d steps +None e’er descend, and mount them not again, +Who from his phial should refuse thee wine +To slake thy thirst, no less constrained were, +Than water flowing not unto the sea. +Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom +In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds +This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for heav’n. +I then was of the lambs, that Dominic +Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way, +Where well they thrive, not sworn with vanity. +He, nearest on my right hand, brother was, +And master to me: Albert of Cologne +Is this: and of Aquinum, Thomas I. +If thou of all the rest wouldst be assur’d, +Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak, +In circuit journey round the blessed wreath. +That next resplendence issues from the smile +Of Gratian, who to either forum lent +Such help, as favour wins in Paradise. +The other, nearest, who adorns our quire, +Was Peter, he that with the widow gave +To holy church his treasure. The fifth light, +Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired, +That all your world craves tidings of its doom: +Within, there is the lofty light, endow’d +With sapience so profound, if truth be truth, +That with a ken of such wide amplitude +No second hath arisen. Next behold +That taper’s radiance, to whose view was shown, +Clearliest, the nature and the ministry +Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt. +In the other little light serenely smiles +That pleader for the Christian temples, he +Who did provide Augustin of his lore. +Now, if thy mind’s eye pass from light to light, +Upon my praises following, of the eighth +Thy thirst is next. The saintly soul, that shows +The world’s deceitfulness, to all who hear him, +Is, with the sight of all the good, that is, +Blest there. The limbs, whence it was driven, lie +Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom +And exile came it here. Lo! further on, +Where flames the arduous Spirit of Isidore, +Of Bede, and Richard, more than man, erewhile, +In deep discernment. Lastly this, from whom +Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam +Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent, +Rebuk’d the ling’ring tardiness of death. +It is the eternal light of Sigebert, +Who ’scap’d not envy, when of truth he argued, +Reading in the straw-litter’d street.” Forthwith, +As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God +To win her bridegroom’s love at matin’s hour, +Each part of other fitly drawn and urg’d, +Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet, +Affection springs in well-disposed breast; +Thus saw I move the glorious wheel, thus heard +Voice answ’ring voice, so musical and soft, +It can be known but where day endless shines. + + + + +CANTO XI + + +O fond anxiety of mortal men! +How vain and inconclusive arguments +Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below +For statues one, and one for aphorisms +Was hunting; this the priesthood follow’d, that +By force or sophistry aspir’d to rule; +To rob another, and another sought +By civil business wealth; one moiling lay +Tangled in net of sensual delight, +And one to witless indolence resign’d; +What time from all these empty things escap’d, +With Beatrice, I thus gloriously +Was rais’d aloft, and made the guest of heav’n. + +They of the circle to that point, each one. +Where erst it was, had turn’d; and steady glow’d, +As candle in his socket. Then within +The lustre, that erewhile bespake me, smiling +With merer gladness, heard I thus begin: + +“E’en as his beam illumes me, so I look +Into the eternal light, and clearly mark +Thy thoughts, from whence they rise. Thou art in doubt, +And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh +In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth +To thy perception, where I told thee late +That ‘well they thrive;’ and that ‘no second such +Hath risen,’ which no small distinction needs. + +“The providence, that governeth the world, +In depth of counsel by created ken +Unfathomable, to the end that she, +Who with loud cries was ’spous’d in precious blood, +Might keep her footing towards her well-belov’d, +Safe in herself and constant unto him, +Hath two ordain’d, who should on either hand +In chief escort her: one seraphic all +In fervency; for wisdom upon earth, +The other splendour of cherubic light. +I but of one will tell: he tells of both, +Who one commendeth. which of them so’er +Be taken: for their deeds were to one end. + +“Between Tupino, and the wave, that falls +From blest Ubaldo’s chosen hill, there hangs +Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold +Are wafted through Perugia’s eastern gate: +And Norcera with Gualdo, in its rear +Mourn for their heavy yoke. Upon that side, +Where it doth break its steepness most, arose +A sun upon the world, as duly this +From Ganges doth: therefore let none, who speak +Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name +Were lamely so deliver’d; but the East, +To call things rightly, be it henceforth styl’d. +He was not yet much distant from his rising, +When his good influence ’gan to bless the earth. +A dame to whom none openeth pleasure’s gate +More than to death, was, ’gainst his father’s will, +His stripling choice: and he did make her his, +Before the Spiritual court, by nuptial bonds, +And in his father’s sight: from day to day, +Then lov’d her more devoutly. She, bereav’d +Of her first husband, slighted and obscure, +Thousand and hundred years and more, remain’d +Without a single suitor, till he came. +Nor aught avail’d, that, with Amyclas, she +Was found unmov’d at rumour of his voice, +Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness +Whereby with Christ she mounted on the cross, +When Mary stay’d beneath. But not to deal +Thus closely with thee longer, take at large +The rovers’ titles—Poverty and Francis. +Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love, +And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts, +So much, that venerable Bernard first +Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace +So heavenly, ran, yet deem’d his footing slow. +O hidden riches! O prolific good! +Egidius bares him next, and next Sylvester, +And follow both the bridegroom; so the bride +Can please them. Thenceforth goes he on his way, +The father and the master, with his spouse, +And with that family, whom now the cord +Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart +Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son +Of Pietro Bernardone, and by men +In wond’rous sort despis’d. But royally +His hard intention he to Innocent +Set forth, and from him first receiv’d the seal +On his religion. Then, when numerous flock’d +The tribe of lowly ones, that trac’d HIS steps, +Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung +In heights empyreal, through Honorius’ hand +A second crown, to deck their Guardian’s virtues, +Was by the eternal Spirit inwreath’d: and when +He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up +In the proud Soldan’s presence, and there preach’d +Christ and his followers; but found the race +Unripen’d for conversion: back once more +He hasted (not to intermit his toil), +And reap’d Ausonian lands. On the hard rock, +’Twixt Arno and the Tyber, he from Christ +Took the last Signet, which his limbs two years +Did carry. Then the season come, that he, +Who to such good had destin’d him, was pleas’d +T’ advance him to the meed, which he had earn’d +By his self-humbling, to his brotherhood, +As their just heritage, he gave in charge +His dearest lady, and enjoin’d their love +And faith to her: and, from her bosom, will’d +His goodly spirit should move forth, returning +To its appointed kingdom, nor would have +His body laid upon another bier. + +“Think now of one, who were a fit colleague, +To keep the bark of Peter in deep sea +Helm’d to right point; and such our Patriarch was. +Therefore who follow him, as he enjoins, +Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in. +But hunger of new viands tempts his flock, +So that they needs into strange pastures wide +Must spread them: and the more remote from him +The stragglers wander, so much mole they come +Home to the sheep-fold, destitute of milk. +There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm, +And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few, +A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks. + +“Now, if my words be clear, if thou have ta’en +Good heed, if that, which I have told, recall +To mind, thy wish may be in part fulfill’d: +For thou wilt see the point from whence they split, +Nor miss of the reproof, which that implies, +‘That well they thrive not sworn with vanity.’” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +Soon as its final word the blessed flame +Had rais’d for utterance, straight the holy mill +Began to wheel, nor yet had once revolv’d, +Or ere another, circling, compass’d it, +Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining, +Song, that as much our muses doth excel, +Our Sirens with their tuneful pipes, as ray +Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex. + +As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth, +Two arches parallel, and trick’d alike, +Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth +From that within (in manner of that voice +Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist), +And they who gaze, presageful call to mind +The compact, made with Noah, of the world +No more to be o’erflow’d; about us thus +Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreath’d +Those garlands twain, and to the innermost +E’en thus th’ external answered. When the footing, +And other great festivity, of song, +And radiance, light with light accordant, each +Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still’d +(E’en as the eyes by quick volition mov’d, +Are shut and rais’d together), from the heart +Of one amongst the new lights mov’d a voice, +That made me seem like needle to the star, +In turning to its whereabout, and thus +Began: “The love, that makes me beautiful, +Prompts me to tell of th’ other guide, for whom +Such good of mine is spoken. Where one is, +The other worthily should also be; +That as their warfare was alike, alike +Should be their glory. Slow, and full of doubt, +And with thin ranks, after its banner mov’d +The army of Christ (which it so clearly cost +To reappoint), when its imperial Head, +Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host +Did make provision, thorough grace alone, +And not through its deserving. As thou heard’st, +Two champions to the succour of his spouse +He sent, who by their deeds and words might join +Again his scatter’d people. In that clime, +Where springs the pleasant west-wind to unfold +The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself +New-garmented; nor from those billows far, +Beyond whose chiding, after weary course, +The sun doth sometimes hide him, safe abides +The happy Callaroga, under guard +Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies +Subjected and supreme. And there was born +The loving million of the Christian faith, +The hollow’d wrestler, gentle to his own, +And to his enemies terrible. So replete +His soul with lively virtue, that when first +Created, even in the mother’s womb, +It prophesied. When, at the sacred font, +The spousals were complete ’twixt faith and him, +Where pledge of mutual safety was exchang’d, +The dame, who was his surety, in her sleep +Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him +And from his heirs to issue. And that such +He might be construed, as indeed he was, +She was inspir’d to name him of his owner, +Whose he was wholly, and so call’d him Dominic. +And I speak of him, as the labourer, +Whom Christ in his own garden chose to be +His help-mate. Messenger he seem’d, and friend +Fast-knit to Christ; and the first love he show’d, +Was after the first counsel that Christ gave. +Many a time his nurse, at entering found +That he had ris’n in silence, and was prostrate, +As who should say, “My errand was for this.” +O happy father! Felix rightly nam’d! +O favour’d mother! rightly nam’d Joanna! +If that do mean, as men interpret it. +Not for the world’s sake, for which now they pore +Upon Ostiense and Taddeo’s page, +But for the real manna, soon he grew +Mighty in learning, and did set himself +To go about the vineyard, that soon turns +To wan and wither’d, if not tended well: +And from the see (whose bounty to the just +And needy is gone by, not through its fault, +But his who fills it basely), he besought, +No dispensation for commuted wrong, +Nor the first vacant fortune, nor the tenth), +That to God’s paupers rightly appertain, +But, ’gainst an erring and degenerate world, +Licence to fight, in favour of that seed, +From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round. +Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help, +Forth on his great apostleship he far’d, +Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein; +And, dashing ’gainst the stocks of heresy, +Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout. +Thence many rivulets have since been turn’d, +Over the garden Catholic to lead +Their living waters, and have fed its plants. + +“If such one wheel of that two-yoked car, +Wherein the holy church defended her, +And rode triumphant through the civil broil. +Thou canst not doubt its fellow’s excellence, +Which Thomas, ere my coming, hath declar’d +So courteously unto thee. But the track, +Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted: +That mouldy mother is where late were lees. +His family, that wont to trace his path, +Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong +To rue the gathering in of their ill crop, +When the rejected tares in vain shall ask +Admittance to the barn. I question not +But he, who search’d our volume, leaf by leaf, +Might still find page with this inscription on’t, +‘I am as I was wont.’ Yet such were not +From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence +Of those, who come to meddle with the text, +One stretches and another cramps its rule. +Bonaventura’s life in me behold, +From Bagnororegio, one, who in discharge +Of my great offices still laid aside +All sinister aim. Illuminato here, +And Agostino join me: two they were, +Among the first of those barefooted meek ones, +Who sought God’s friendship in the cord: with them +Hugues of Saint Victor, Pietro Mangiadore, +And he of Spain in his twelve volumes shining, +Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan +Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign’d +To put his hand to the first art, Donatus. +Raban is here: and at my side there shines +Calabria’s abbot, Joachim , endow’d +With soul prophetic. The bright courtesy +Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore, +Have mov’d me to the blazon of a peer +So worthy, and with me have mov’d this throng.” + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +Let him, who would conceive what now I saw, +Imagine (and retain the image firm, +As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak), +Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host +Selected, that, with lively ray serene, +O’ercome the massiest air: thereto imagine +The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky, +Spins ever on its axle night and day, +With the bright summit of that horn which swells +Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls, +T’ have rang’d themselves in fashion of two signs +In heav’n, such as Ariadne made, +When death’s chill seized her; and that one of them +Did compass in the other’s beam; and both +In such sort whirl around, that each should tend +With opposite motion and, conceiving thus, +Of that true constellation, and the dance +Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain +As ’twere the shadow; for things there as much +Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav’n +Is swifter than the Chiana. There was sung +No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but +Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one +Substance that nature and the human join’d. + +The song fulfill’d its measure; and to us +Those saintly lights attended, happier made +At each new minist’ring. Then silence brake, +Amid th’ accordant sons of Deity, +That luminary, in which the wondrous life +Of the meek man of God was told to me; +And thus it spake: “One ear o’ th’ harvest thresh’d, +And its grain safely stor’d, sweet charity +Invites me with the other to like toil. + +“Thou know’st, that in the bosom, whence the rib +Was ta’en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste +All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc’d +By the keen lance, both after and before +Such satisfaction offer’d, as outweighs +Each evil in the scale, whate’er of light +To human nature is allow’d, must all +Have by his virtue been infus’d, who form’d +Both one and other: and thou thence admir’st +In that I told thee, of beatitudes +A second, there is none, to his enclos’d +In the fifth radiance. Open now thine eyes +To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see +Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth, +As centre in the round. That which dies not, +And that which can die, are but each the beam +Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire +Engendereth loving; for that lively light, +Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin’d +From him, nor from his love triune with them, +Doth, through his bounty, congregate itself, +Mirror’d, as ’twere in new existences, +Itself unalterable and ever one. + +“Descending hence unto the lowest powers, +Its energy so sinks, at last it makes +But brief contingencies: for so I name +Things generated, which the heav’nly orbs +Moving, with seed or without seed, produce. +Their wax, and that which molds it, differ much: +And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows +Th’ ideal stamp impress: so that one tree +According to his kind, hath better fruit, +And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men, +Are in your talents various. Were the wax +Molded with nice exactness, and the heav’n +In its disposing influence supreme, +The lustre of the seal should be complete: +But nature renders it imperfect ever, +Resembling thus the artist in her work, +Whose faultering hand is faithless to his skill. +Howe’er, if love itself dispose, and mark +The primal virtue, kindling with bright view, +There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such +The clay was made, accomplish’d with each gift, +That life can teem with; such the burden fill’d +The virgin’s bosom: so that I commend +Thy judgment, that the human nature ne’er +Was or can be, such as in them it was. + +“Did I advance no further than this point, +‘How then had he no peer?’ thou might’st reply. +But, that what now appears not, may appear +Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what +(When he was bidden ‘Ask’), the motive sway’d +To his requesting. I have spoken thus, +That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask’d +For wisdom, to the end he might be king +Sufficient: not the number to search out +Of the celestial movers; or to know, +If necessary with contingent e’er +Have made necessity; or whether that +Be granted, that first motion is; or if +Of the mid circle can, by art, be made +Triangle with each corner, blunt or sharp. + +“Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this, +Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn, +At which the dart of my intention aims. +And, marking clearly, that I told thee, ‘Risen,’ +Thou shalt discern it only hath respect +To kings, of whom are many, and the good +Are rare. With this distinction take my words; +And they may well consist with that which thou +Of the first human father dost believe, +And of our well-beloved. And let this +Henceforth be led unto thy feet, to make +Thee slow in motion, as a weary man, +Both to the ‘yea’ and to the ‘nay’ thou seest not. +For he among the fools is down full low, +Whose affirmation, or denial, is +Without distinction, in each case alike +Since it befalls, that in most instances +Current opinion leads to false: and then +Affection bends the judgment to her ply. + +“Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore, +Since he returns not such as he set forth, +Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill. +And open proofs of this unto the world +Have been afforded in Parmenides, +Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside, +Who journey’d on, and knew not whither: so did +Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools, +Who, like to scymitars, reflected back +The scripture-image, by distortion marr’d. + +“Let not the people be too swift to judge, +As one who reckons on the blades in field, +Or ere the crop be ripe. For I have seen +The thorn frown rudely all the winter long +And after bear the rose upon its top; +And bark, that all the way across the sea +Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last, +E’en in the haven’s mouth seeing one steal, +Another brine, his offering to the priest, +Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence +Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry: +For one of these may rise, the other fall.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +From centre to the circle, and so back +From circle to the centre, water moves +In the round chalice, even as the blow +Impels it, inwardly, or from without. +Such was the image glanc’d into my mind, +As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas’d; +And Beatrice after him her words +Resum’d alternate: “Need there is (tho’ yet +He tells it to you not in words, nor e’en +In thought) that he should fathom to its depth +Another mystery. Tell him, if the light, +Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you +Eternally, as now: and, if it doth, +How, when ye shall regain your visible forms, +The sight may without harm endure the change, +That also tell.” As those, who in a ring +Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth +Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound; +Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit, +The saintly circles in their tourneying +And wond’rous note attested new delight. + +Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb +Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live +Immortally above, he hath not seen +The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower. + +Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns +In mystic union of the Three in One, +Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice +Sang, with such melody, as but to hear +For highest merit were an ample meed. +And from the lesser orb the goodliest light, +With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps +The angel’s once to Mary, thus replied: +“Long as the joy of Paradise shall last, +Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright, +As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest; +And that as far in blessedness exceeding, +As it hath grave beyond its virtue great. +Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds +Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire, +Show yet more gracious. Therefore shall increase, +Whate’er of light, gratuitous, imparts +The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid, +The better disclose his glory: whence +The vision needs increasing, much increase +The fervour, which it kindles; and that too +The ray, that comes from it. But as the greed +Which gives out flame, yet it its whiteness shines +More lively than that, and so preserves +Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere +Of splendour, shall to view less radiant seem, +Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth +Now covers. Nor will such excess of light +O’erpower us, in corporeal organs made +Firm, and susceptible of all delight.” + +So ready and so cordial an “Amen,” +Followed from either choir, as plainly spoke +Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance +Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear, +Mothers and sires, and those whom best they lov’d, +Ere they were made imperishable flame. + +And lo! forthwith there rose up round about +A lustre over that already there, +Of equal clearness, like the brightening up +Of the horizon. As at an evening hour +Of twilight, new appearances through heav’n +Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried; +So there new substances, methought began +To rise in view; and round the other twain +Enwheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide. + +O gentle glitter of eternal beam! +With what a such whiteness did it flow, +O’erpowering vision in me! But so fair, +So passing lovely, Beatrice show’d, +Mind cannot follow it, nor words express +Her infinite sweetness. Thence mine eyes regain’d +Power to look up, and I beheld myself, +Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss +Translated: for the star, with warmer smile +Impurpled, well denoted our ascent. + +With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks +The same in all, an holocaust I made +To God, befitting the new grace vouchsaf’d. +And from my bosom had not yet upsteam’d +The fuming of that incense, when I knew +The rite accepted. With such mighty sheen +And mantling crimson, in two listed rays +The splendours shot before me, that I cried, +“God of Sabaoth! that does prank them thus!” + +As leads the galaxy from pole to pole, +Distinguish’d into greater lights and less, +Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell; +So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars, +Those rays describ’d the venerable sign, +That quadrants in the round conjoining frame. +Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ +Beam’d on that cross; and pattern fails me now. +But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ +Will pardon me for that I leave untold, +When in the flecker’d dawning he shall spy +The glitterance of Christ. From horn to horn, +And ’tween the summit and the base did move +Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass’d. +Thus oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance, +Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow, +The atomies of bodies, long or short, +To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line +Checkers the shadow, interpos’d by art +Against the noontide heat. And as the chime +Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and help +With many strings, a pleasant dining makes +To him, who heareth not distinct the note; +So from the lights, which there appear’d to me, +Gather’d along the cross a melody, +That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment +Possess’d me. Yet I mark’d it was a hymn +Of lofty praises; for there came to me +“Arise and conquer,” as to one who hears +And comprehends not. Me such ecstasy +O’ercame, that never till that hour was thing +That held me in so sweet imprisonment. + +Perhaps my saying over bold appears, +Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes, +Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire. +But he, who is aware those living seals +Of every beauty work with quicker force, +The higher they are ris’n; and that there +I had not turn’d me to them; he may well +Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse +I do accuse me, and may own my truth; +That holy pleasure here not yet reveal’d, +Which grows in transport as we mount aloof. + + + + +CANTO XV + + +True love, that ever shows itself as clear +In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong, +Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still’d +The sacred chords, that are by heav’n’s right hand +Unwound and tighten’d, flow to righteous prayers +Should they not hearken, who, to give me will +For praying, in accordance thus were mute? +He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief, +Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not, +Despoils himself forever of that love. + +As oft along the still and pure serene, +At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire, +Attracting with involuntary heed +The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest, +And seems some star that shifted place in heav’n, +Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost, +And it is soon extinct; thus from the horn, +That on the dexter of the cross extends, +Down to its foot, one luminary ran +From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem +Dropp’d from its foil; and through the beamy list +Like flame in alabaster, glow’d its course. + +So forward stretch’d him (if of credence aught +Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost +Of old Anchises, in the’ Elysian bower, +When he perceiv’d his son. “O thou, my blood! +O most exceeding grace divine! to whom, +As now to thee, hath twice the heav’nly gate +Been e’er unclos’d?” so spake the light; whence I +Turn’d me toward him; then unto my dame +My sight directed, and on either side +Amazement waited me; for in her eyes +Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine +Had div’d unto the bottom of my grace +And of my bliss in Paradise. Forthwith +To hearing and to sight grateful alike, +The spirit to his proem added things +I understood not, so profound he spake; +Yet not of choice but through necessity +Mysterious; for his high conception scar’d +Beyond the mark of mortals. When the flight +Of holy transport had so spent its rage, +That nearer to the level of our thought +The speech descended, the first sounds I heard +Were, “Best he thou, Triunal Deity! +That hast such favour in my seed vouchsaf’d!” +Then follow’d: “No unpleasant thirst, tho’ long, +Which took me reading in the sacred book, +Whose leaves or white or dusky never change, +Thou hast allay’d, my son, within this light, +From whence my voice thou hear’st; more thanks to her. +Who for such lofty mounting has with plumes +Begirt thee. Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me +From him transmitted, who is first of all, +E’en as all numbers ray from unity; +And therefore dost not ask me who I am, +Or why to thee more joyous I appear, +Than any other in this gladsome throng. +The truth is as thou deem’st; for in this hue +Both less and greater in that mirror look, +In which thy thoughts, or ere thou think’st, are shown. +But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever, +Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire, +May be contended fully, let thy voice, +Fearless, and frank and jocund, utter forth +Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish, +Whereto my ready answer stands decreed.” + +I turn’d me to Beatrice; and she heard +Ere I had spoken, smiling, an assent, +That to my will gave wings; and I began +“To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn’d +The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells, +Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt; +For that they are so equal in the sun, +From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat, +As makes all likeness scant. But will and means, +In mortals, for the cause ye well discern, +With unlike wings are fledge. A mortal I +Experience inequality like this, +And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart, +For thy paternal greeting. This howe’er +I pray thee, living topaz! that ingemm’st +This precious jewel, let me hear thy name.” + +“I am thy root, O leaf! whom to expect +Even, hath pleas’d me: “thus the prompt reply +Prefacing, next it added; “he, of whom +Thy kindred appellation comes, and who, +These hundred years and more, on its first ledge +Hath circuited the mountain, was my son +And thy great grandsire. Well befits, his long +Endurance should he shorten’d by thy deeds. + +“Florence, within her ancient limit-mark, +Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon, +Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace. +She had no armlets and no head-tires then, +No purfled dames, no zone, that caught the eye +More than the person did. Time was not yet, +When at his daughter’s birth the sire grew pale. +For fear the age and dowry should exceed +On each side just proportion. House was none +Void of its family; nor yet had come +Hardanapalus, to exhibit feats +Of chamber prowess. Montemalo yet +O’er our suburban turret rose; as much +To be surpass in fall, as in its rising. +I saw Bellincione Berti walk abroad +In leathern girdle and a clasp of bone; +And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks, +His lady leave the glass. The sons I saw +Of Nerli and of Vecchio well content +With unrob’d jerkin; and their good dames handling +The spindle and the flax; O happy they! +Each sure of burial in her native land, +And none left desolate a-bed for France! +One wak’d to tend the cradle, hushing it +With sounds that lull’d the parent’s infancy: +Another, with her maidens, drawing off +The tresses from the distaff, lectur’d them +Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome. +A Salterello and Cianghella we +Had held as strange a marvel, as ye would +A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now. + +“In such compos’d and seemly fellowship, +Such faithful and such fair equality, +In so sweet household, Mary at my birth +Bestow’d me, call’d on with loud cries; and there +In your old baptistery, I was made +Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were +My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto. + +“From Valdipado came to me my spouse, +And hence thy surname grew. I follow’d then +The Emperor Conrad; and his knighthood he +Did gird on me; in such good part he took +My valiant service. After him I went +To testify against that evil law, +Whose people, by the shepherd’s fault, possess +Your right, usurping. There, by that foul crew +Was I releas’d from the deceitful world, +Whose base affection many a spirit soils, +And from the martyrdom came to this peace.” + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +O slight respect of man’s nobility! +I never shall account it marvelous, +That our infirm affection here below +Thou mov’st to boasting, when I could not choose, +E’en in that region of unwarp’d desire, +In heav’n itself, but make my vaunt in thee! +Yet cloak thou art soon shorten’d, for that time, +Unless thou be eked out from day to day, +Goes round thee with his shears. Resuming then +With greeting such, as Rome, was first to bear, +But since hath disaccustom’d I began; +And Beatrice, that a little space +Was sever’d, smil’d reminding me of her, +Whose cough embolden’d (as the story holds) +To first offence the doubting Guenever. + +“You are my sire,” said I, “you give me heart +Freely to speak my thought: above myself +You raise me. Through so many streams with joy +My soul is fill’d, that gladness wells from it; +So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not +Say then, my honour’d stem! what ancestors +Where those you sprang from, and what years were mark’d +In your first childhood? Tell me of the fold, +That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then +Its state, and who in it were highest seated?” + +As embers, at the breathing of the wind, +Their flame enliven, so that light I saw +Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew +More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet, +Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith +It answer’d: “From the day, when it was said +‘Hail Virgin!’ to the throes, by which my mother, +Who now is sainted, lighten’d her of me +Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come, +Five hundred fifty times and thrice, its beams +To reilumine underneath the foot +Of its own lion. They, of whom I sprang, +And I, had there our birth-place, where the last +Partition of our city first is reach’d +By him, that runs her annual game. Thus much +Suffice of my forefathers: who they were, +And whence they hither came, more honourable +It is to pass in silence than to tell. +All those, who in that time were there from Mars +Until the Baptist, fit to carry arms, +Were but the fifth of them this day alive. +But then the citizen’s blood, that now is mix’d +From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine, +Ran purely through the last mechanic’s veins. +O how much better were it, that these people +Were neighbours to you, and that at Galluzzo +And at Trespiano, ye should have your bound’ry, +Than to have them within, and bear the stench +Of Aguglione’s hind, and Signa’s, him, +That hath his eye already keen for bart’ring! +Had not the people, which of all the world +Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar, +But, as a mother, gracious to her son; +Such one, as hath become a Florentine, +And trades and traffics, had been turn’d adrift +To Simifonte, where his grandsire ply’d +The beggar’s craft. The Conti were possess’d +Of Montemurlo still: the Cerchi still +Were in Acone’s parish; nor had haply +From Valdigrieve past the Buondelmonte. +The city’s malady hath ever source +In the confusion of its persons, as +The body’s, in variety of food: +And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge, +Than the blind lamb; and oftentimes one sword +Doth more and better execution, +Than five. Mark Luni, Urbisaglia mark, +How they are gone, and after them how go +Chiusi and Sinigaglia; and ’twill seem +No longer new or strange to thee to hear, +That families fail, when cities have their end. +All things, that appertain t’ ye, like yourselves, +Are mortal: but mortality in some +Ye mark not, they endure so long, and you +Pass by so suddenly. And as the moon +Doth, by the rolling of her heav’nly sphere, +Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly; +So fortune deals with Florence. Hence admire not +At what of them I tell thee, whose renown +Time covers, the first Florentines. I saw +The Ughi, Catilini and Filippi, +The Alberichi, Greci and Ormanni, +Now in their wane, illustrious citizens: +And great as ancient, of Sannella him, +With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri +And Ardinghi, and Bostichi. At the poop, +That now is laden with new felony, +So cumb’rous it may speedily sink the bark, +The Ravignani sat, of whom is sprung +The County Guido, and whoso hath since +His title from the fam’d Bellincione ta’en. +Fair governance was yet an art well priz’d +By him of Pressa: Galigaio show’d +The gilded hilt and pommel, in his house. +The column, cloth’d with verrey, still was seen +Unshaken: the Sacchetti still were great, +Giouchi, Sifanti, Galli and Barucci, +With them who blush to hear the bushel nam’d. +Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk +Was in its strength: and to the curule chairs +Sizii and Arigucci yet were drawn. +How mighty them I saw, whom since their pride +Hath undone! and in all her goodly deeds +Florence was by the bullets of bright gold +O’erflourish’d. Such the sires of those, who now, +As surely as your church is vacant, flock +Into her consistory, and at leisure +There stall them and grow fat. The o’erweening brood, +That plays the dragon after him that flees, +But unto such, as turn and show the tooth, +Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb, +Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem’d, +That Ubertino of Donati grudg’d +His father-in-law should yoke him to its tribe. +Already Caponsacco had descended +Into the mart from Fesole: and Giuda +And Infangato were good citizens. +A thing incredible I tell, tho’ true: +The gateway, named from those of Pera, led +Into the narrow circuit of your walls. +Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings +Of the great Baron (he whose name and worth +The festival of Thomas still revives) +His knighthood and his privilege retain’d; +Albeit one, who borders them With gold, +This day is mingled with the common herd. +In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt, +And Importuni: well for its repose +Had it still lack’d of newer neighbourhood. +The house, from whence your tears have had their spring, +Through the just anger that hath murder’d ye +And put a period to your gladsome days, +Was honour’d, it, and those consorted with it. +O Buondelmonte! what ill counseling +Prevail’d on thee to break the plighted bond +Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice, +Had God to Ema giv’n thee, the first time +Thou near our city cam’st. But so was doom’d: +On that maim’d stone set up to guard the bridge, +At thy last peace, the victim, Florence! fell. +With these and others like to them, I saw +Florence in such assur’d tranquility, +She had no cause at which to grieve: with these +Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne’er +The lily from the lance had hung reverse, +Or through division been with vermeil dyed.” + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +Such as the youth, who came to Clymene +To certify himself of that reproach, +Which had been fasten’d on him, (he whose end +Still makes the fathers chary to their sons, +E’en such was I; nor unobserv’d was such +Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp, +Who had erewhile for me his station mov’d; +When thus by lady: “Give thy wish free vent, +That it may issue, bearing true report +Of the mind’s impress; not that aught thy words +May to our knowledge add, but to the end, +That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst +And men may mingle for thee when they hear.” + +“O plant! from whence I spring! rever’d and lov’d! +Who soar’st so high a pitch, thou seest as clear, +As earthly thought determines two obtuse +In one triangle not contain’d, so clear +Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves +Existent, looking at the point whereto +All times are present, I, the whilst I scal’d +With Virgil the soul purifying mount, +And visited the nether world of woe, +Touching my future destiny have heard +Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides +Well squar’d to fortune’s blows. Therefore my will +Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me, +The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks its flight.” + +So said I to the brightness, which erewhile +To me had spoken, and my will declar’d, +As Beatrice will’d, explicitly. +Nor with oracular response obscure, +Such, as or ere the Lamb of God was slain, +Beguil’d the credulous nations; but, in terms +Precise and unambiguous lore, replied +The spirit of paternal love, enshrin’d, +Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake: +“Contingency, unfolded not to view +Upon the tablet of your mortal mold, +Is all depictur’d in the’ eternal sight; +But hence deriveth not necessity, +More then the tall ship, hurried down the flood, +Doth from the vision, that reflects the scene. +From thence, as to the ear sweet harmony +From organ comes, so comes before mine eye +The time prepar’d for thee. Such as driv’n out +From Athens, by his cruel stepdame’s wiles, +Hippolytus departed, such must thou +Depart from Florence. This they wish, and this +Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there, +Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ, +Throughout the livelong day. The common cry, +Will, as ’tis ever wont, affix the blame +Unto the party injur’d: but the truth +Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find +A faithful witness. Thou shall leave each thing +Belov’d most dearly: this is the first shaft +Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove +How salt the savour is of other’s bread, +How hard the passage to descend and climb +By other’s stairs, But that shall gall thee most +Will he the worthless and vile company, +With whom thou must be thrown into these straits. +For all ungrateful, impious all and mad, +Shall turn ’gainst thee: but in a little while +Theirs and not thine shall be the crimson’d brow +Their course shall so evince their brutishness +T’ have ta’en thy stand apart shall well become thee. + +“First refuge thou must find, first place of rest, +In the great Lombard’s courtesy, who bears +Upon the ladder perch’d the sacred bird. +He shall behold thee with such kind regard, +That ’twixt ye two, the contrary to that +Which falls ’twixt other men, the granting shall +Forerun the asking. With him shalt thou see +That mortal, who was at his birth impress +So strongly from this star, that of his deeds +The nations shall take note. His unripe age +Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels +Only nine years have compass him about. +But, ere the Gascon practice on great Harry, +Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him, +In equal scorn of labours and of gold. +His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely, +As not to let the tongues e’en of his foes +Be idle in its praise. Look thou to him +And his beneficence: for he shall cause +Reversal of their lot to many people, +Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes. +And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul +Of him, but tell it not; “and things he told +Incredible to those who witness them; +Then added: “So interpret thou, my son, +What hath been told thee.—Lo! the ambushment +That a few circling seasons hide for thee! +Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends +Thy span beyond their treason’s chastisement.” + +Soon, as the saintly spirit, by his silence, +Had shown the web, which I had streteh’d for him +Upon the warp, was woven, I began, +As one, who in perplexity desires +Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly: +“My father! well I mark how time spurs on +Toward me, ready to inflict the blow, +Which falls most heavily on him, who most +Abandoned himself. Therefore ’tis good +I should forecast, that driven from the place +Most dear to me, I may not lose myself +All others by my song. Down through the world +Of infinite mourning, and along the mount +From whose fair height my lady’s eyes did lift me, +And after through this heav’n from light to light, +Have I learnt that, which if I tell again, +It may with many woefully disrelish; +And, if I am a timid friend to truth, +I fear my life may perish among those, +To whom these days shall be of ancient date.” + +The brightness, where enclos’d the treasure smil’d, +Which I had found there, first shone glisteningly, +Like to a golden mirror in the sun; +Next answer’d: “Conscience, dimm’d or by its own +Or other’s shame, will feel thy saying sharp. +Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit remov’d, +See the whole vision be made manifest. +And let them wince who have their withers wrung. +What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove +Unwelcome, on digestion it will turn +To vital nourishment. The cry thou raisest, +Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits; +Which is of honour no light argument, +For this there only have been shown to thee, +Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep, +Spirits, whom fame hath note of. For the mind +Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce +And fix its faith, unless the instance brought +Be palpable, and proof apparent urge.” + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy’d +That blessed spirit; and I fed on mine, +Tempting the sweet with bitter: she meanwhile, +Who led me unto God, admonish’d: “Muse +On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him +I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong.” + +At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn’d; +And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen, +I leave in silence here: nor through distrust +Of my words only, but that to such bliss +The mind remounts not without aid. Thus much +Yet may I speak; that, as I gaz’d on her, +Affection found no room for other wish. +While the everlasting pleasure, that did full +On Beatrice shine, with second view +From her fair countenance my gladden’d soul +Contented; vanquishing me with a beam +Of her soft smile, she spake: “Turn thee, and list. +These eyes are not thy only Paradise.” + +As here we sometimes in the looks may see +Th’ affection mark’d, when that its sway hath ta’en +The spirit wholly; thus the hallow’d light, +To whom I turn’d, flashing, bewray’d its will +To talk yet further with me, and began: +“On this fifth lodgment of the tree, whose life +Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair +And leaf unwith’ring, blessed spirits abide, +That were below, ere they arriv’d in heav’n, +So mighty in renown, as every muse +Might grace her triumph with them. On the horns +Look therefore of the cross: he, whom I name, +Shall there enact, as doth 1n summer cloud +Its nimble fire.” Along the cross I saw, +At the repeated name of Joshua, +A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said, +Ere it was done: then, at the naming saw +Of the great Maccabee, another move +With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge +Unto that top. The next for Charlemagne +And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze +Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues +A falcon flying. Last, along the cross, +William, and Renard, and Duke Godfrey drew +My ken, and Robert Guiscard. And the soul, +Who spake with me among the other lights +Did move away, and mix; and with the choir +Of heav’nly songsters prov’d his tuneful skill. + +To Beatrice on my right l bent, +Looking for intimation or by word +Or act, what next behoov’d; and did descry +Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy, +It past all former wont. And, as by sense +Of new delight, the man, who perseveres +In good deeds doth perceive from day to day +His virtue growing; I e’en thus perceiv’d +Of my ascent, together with the heav’n +The circuit widen’d, noting the increase +Of beauty in that wonder. Like the change +In a brief moment on some maiden’s cheek, +Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight +Of pudency, that stain’d it; such in her, +And to mine eyes so sudden was the change, +Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star, +Whose sixth orb now enfolded us. I saw, +Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks +Of love, that reign’d there, fashion to my view +Our language. And as birds, from river banks +Arisen, now in round, now lengthen’d troop, +Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems, +Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights, +The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made +Now D. now I. now L. figur’d I’ th’ air. +First, singing, to their notes they mov’d, then one +Becoming of these signs, a little while +Did rest them, and were mute. O nymph divine +Of Pegasean race! whose souls, which thou +Inspir’st, mak’st glorious and long-liv’d, as they +Cities and realms by thee! thou with thyself +Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes, +As fancy doth present them. Be thy power +Display’d in this brief song. The characters, +Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven. +In order each, as they appear’d, I mark’d. +Diligite Justitiam, the first, +Both verb and noun all blazon’d; and the extreme +Qui judicatis terram. In the M. +Of the fifth word they held their station, +Making the star seem silver streak’d with gold. +And on the summit of the M. I saw +Descending other lights, that rested there, +Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good. +Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand, +Sparkles innumerable on all sides +Rise scatter’d, source of augury to th’ unwise; +Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence +Seem’d reascending, and a higher pitch +Some mounting, and some less; e’en as the sun, +Which kindleth them, decreed. And when each one +Had settled in his place, the head and neck +Then saw I of an eagle, lively +Grav’d in that streaky fire. Who painteth there, +Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides; +And every line and texture of the nest +Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it. +The other bright beatitude, that seem’d +Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content +To over-canopy the M. mov’d forth, +Following gently the impress of the bird. + + Sweet star! what glorious and thick-studded gems +Declar’d to me our justice on the earth +To be the effluence of that heav’n, which thou, +Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay! +Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom +Thy motion and thy virtue are begun, +That he would look from whence the fog doth rise, +To vitiate thy beam: so that once more +He may put forth his hand ’gainst such, as drive +Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls +With miracles and martyrdoms were built. + +Ye host of heaven! whose glory I survey l +O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth +All after ill example gone astray. +War once had for its instrument the sword: +But now ’tis made, taking the bread away +Which the good Father locks from none.—And thou, +That writes but to cancel, think, that they, +Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died, +Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings. +Thou hast good cause to cry, “My heart so cleaves +To him, that liv’d in solitude remote, +And from the wilds was dragg’d to martyrdom, +I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul.” + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +Before my sight appear’d, with open wings, +The beauteous image, in fruition sweet +Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem +A little ruby, whereon so intense +The sun-beam glow’d that to mine eyes it came +In clear refraction. And that, which next +Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter’d, +Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy +Was e’er conceiv’d. For I beheld and heard +The beak discourse; and, what intention form’d +Of many, singly as of one express, +Beginning: “For that I was just and piteous, +l am exalted to this height of glory, +The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth +Have I my memory left, e’en by the bad +Commended, while they leave its course untrod.” + +Thus is one heat from many embers felt, +As in that image many were the loves, +And one the voice, that issued from them all. +Whence I address them: “O perennial flowers +Of gladness everlasting! that exhale +In single breath your odours manifold! +Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas’d, +That with great craving long hath held my soul, +Finding no food on earth. This well I know, +That if there be in heav’n a realm, that shows +In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, +Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern +The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself +To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me +With such inveterate craving.” Straight I saw, +Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, +That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, +His beauty and his eagerness bewraying. +So saw I move that stately sign, with praise +Of grace divine inwoven and high song +Of inexpressive joy. “He,” it began, +“Who turn’d his compass on the world’s extreme, +And in that space so variously hath wrought, +Both openly, and in secret, in such wise +Could not through all the universe display +Impression of his glory, that the Word +Of his omniscience should not still remain +In infinite excess. In proof whereof, +He first through pride supplanted, who was sum +Of each created being, waited not +For light celestial, and abortive fell. +Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant +Receptacle unto that Good, which knows +No limit, measur’d by itself alone. +Therefore your sight, of th’ omnipresent Mind +A single beam, its origin must own +Surpassing far its utmost potency. +The ken, your world is gifted with, descends +In th’ everlasting Justice as low down, +As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark +The bottom from the shore, in the wide main +Discerns it not; and ne’ertheless it is, +But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, +Save that which cometh from the pure serene +Of ne’er disturbed ether: for the rest, +’Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh, +Or else its poison. Here confess reveal’d +That covert, which hath hidden from thy search +The living justice, of the which thou mad’st +Such frequent question; for thou saidst—‘A man +Is born on Indus’ banks, and none is there +Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write, +And all his inclinations and his acts, +As far as human reason sees, are good, +And he offendeth not in word or deed. +But unbaptiz’d he dies, and void of faith. +Where is the justice that condemns him? where +His blame, if he believeth not?’—What then, +And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit +To judge at distance of a thousand miles +With the short-sighted vision of a span? +To him, who subtilizes thus with me, +There would assuredly be room for doubt +Even to wonder, did not the safe word +Of scripture hold supreme authority. + +“O animals of clay! O spirits gross I +The primal will, that in itself is good, +Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne’er been mov’d. +Justice consists in consonance with it, +Derivable by no created good, +Whose very cause depends upon its beam.” + +As on her nest the stork, that turns about +Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, +While they with upward eyes do look on her; +So lifted I my gaze; and bending so +The ever-blessed image wav’d its wings, +Lab’ring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round +It warbled, and did say: “As are my notes +To thee, who understand’st them not, such is +Th’ eternal judgment unto mortal ken.” + +Then still abiding in that ensign rang’d, +Wherewith the Romans over-awed the world, +Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit +Took up the strain; and thus it spake again: +“None ever hath ascended to this realm, +Who hath not a believer been in Christ, +Either before or after the blest limbs +Were nail’d upon the wood. But lo! of those +Who call ‘Christ, Christ,’ there shall be many found, + In judgment, further off from him by far, +Than such, to whom his name was never known. +Christians like these the Ethiop shall condemn: +When that the two assemblages shall part; +One rich eternally, the other poor. + +“What may the Persians say unto your kings, +When they shall see that volume, in the which +All their dispraise is written, spread to view? +There amidst Albert’s works shall that be read, +Which will give speedy motion to the pen, +When Prague shall mourn her desolated realm. +There shall be read the woe, that he doth work +With his adulterate money on the Seine, +Who by the tusk will perish: there be read +The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike +The English and Scot, impatient of their bound. +There shall be seen the Spaniard’s luxury, +The delicate living there of the Bohemian, +Who still to worth has been a willing stranger. +The halter of Jerusalem shall see +A unit for his virtue, for his vices +No less a mark than million. He, who guards +The isle of fire by old Anchises honour’d +Shall find his avarice there and cowardice; +And better to denote his littleness, +The writing must be letters maim’d, that speak +Much in a narrow space. All there shall know +His uncle and his brother’s filthy doings, +Who so renown’d a nation and two crowns +Have bastardized. And they, of Portugal +And Norway, there shall be expos’d with him +Of Ratza, who hath counterfeited ill +The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary! +If thou no longer patiently abid’st +Thy ill-entreating! and, O blest Navarre! +If with thy mountainous girdle thou wouldst arm thee +In earnest of that day, e’en now are heard +Wailings and groans in Famagosta’s streets +And Nicosia’s, grudging at their beast, +Who keepeth even footing with the rest.” + + + + +CANTO XX + + +When, disappearing, from our hemisphere, +The world’s enlightener vanishes, and day +On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky, +Erewhile irradiate only with his beam, +Is yet again unfolded, putting forth +Innumerable lights wherein one shines. +Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought, +As the great sign, that marshaleth the world +And the world’s leaders, in the blessed beak +Was silent; for that all those living lights, +Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs, +Such as from memory glide and fall away. + +Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles, +How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles, +Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir’d! + +After the precious and bright beaming stones, +That did ingem the sixth light, ceas’d the chiming +Of their angelic bells; methought I heard +The murmuring of a river, that doth fall +From rock to rock transpicuous, making known +The richness of his spring-head: and as sound +Of cistern, at the fret-board, or of pipe, +Is, at the wind-hole, modulate and tun’d; +Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose +That murmuring of the eagle, and forthwith +Voice there assum’d, and thence along the beak +Issued in form of words, such as my heart +Did look for, on whose tables I inscrib’d them. + +“The part in me, that sees, and bears the sun,, +In mortal eagles,” it began, “must now +Be noted steadfastly: for of the fires, +That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye, +Are chief of all the greatest. This, that shines +Midmost for pupil, was the same, who sang +The Holy Spirit’s song, and bare about +The ark from town to town; now doth he know +The merit of his soul-impassion’d strains +By their well-fitted guerdon. Of the five, +That make the circle of the vision, he +Who to the beak is nearest, comforted +The widow for her son: now doth he know +How dear he costeth not to follow Christ, +Both from experience of this pleasant life, +And of its opposite. He next, who follows +In the circumference, for the over arch, +By true repenting slack’d the pace of death: +Now knoweth he, that the degrees of heav’n +Alter not, when through pious prayer below +Today’s is made tomorrow’s destiny. +The other following, with the laws and me, +To yield the shepherd room, pass’d o’er to Greece, +From good intent producing evil fruit: +Now knoweth he, how all the ill, deriv’d +From his well doing, doth not helm him aught, +Though it have brought destruction on the world. +That, which thou seest in the under bow, +Was William, whom that land bewails, which weeps +For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows +How well is lov’d in heav’n the righteous king, +Which he betokens by his radiant seeming. +Who in the erring world beneath would deem, +That Trojan Ripheus in this round was set +Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows +Enough of that, which the world cannot see, +The grace divine, albeit e’en his sight +Reach not its utmost depth.” Like to the lark, +That warbling in the air expatiates long, +Then, trilling out his last sweet melody, +Drops satiate with the sweetness; such appear’d +That image stampt by the’ everlasting pleasure, +Which fashions like itself all lovely things. + +I, though my doubting were as manifest, +As is through glass the hue that mantles it, +In silence waited not: for to my lips +“What things are these?” involuntary rush’d, +And forc’d a passage out: whereat I mark’d +A sudden lightening and new revelry. +The eye was kindled: and the blessed sign +No more to keep me wond’ring and suspense, +Replied: “I see that thou believ’st these things, +Because I tell them, but discern’st not how; +So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith: +As one who knows the name of thing by rote, +But is a stranger to its properties, +Till other’s tongue reveal them. Fervent love +And lively hope with violence assail +The kingdom of the heavens, and overcome +The will of the Most high; not in such sort +As man prevails o’er man; but conquers it, +Because ’tis willing to be conquer’d, still, +Though conquer’d, by its mercy conquering. + +“Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth, +Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold’st +The region of the angels deck’d with them. +They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem’st, +Gentiles but Christians, in firm rooted faith, +This of the feet in future to be pierc’d, +That of feet nail’d already to the cross. +One from the barrier of the dark abyss, +Where never any with good will returns, +Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope +Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing’d +The prayers sent up to God for his release, +And put power into them to bend his will. +The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee, +A little while returning to the flesh, +Believ’d in him, who had the means to help, +And, in believing, nourish’d such a flame +Of holy love, that at the second death +He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth. +The other, through the riches of that grace, +Which from so deep a fountain doth distil, +As never eye created saw its rising, +Plac’d all his love below on just and right: +Wherefore of grace God op’d in him the eye +To the redemption of mankind to come; +Wherein believing, he endur’d no more +The filth of paganism, and for their ways +Rebuk’d the stubborn nations. The three nymphs, +Whom at the right wheel thou beheldst advancing, +Were sponsors for him more than thousand years +Before baptizing. O how far remov’d, +Predestination! is thy root from such +As see not the First cause entire: and ye, +O mortal men! be wary how ye judge: +For we, who see our Maker, know not yet +The number of the chosen: and esteem +Such scantiness of knowledge our delight: +For all our good is in that primal good +Concentrate, and God’s will and ours are one.” + +So, by that form divine, was giv’n to me +Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight, +And, as one handling skillfully the harp, +Attendant on some skilful songster’s voice +Bids the chords vibrate, and therein the song +Acquires more pleasure; so, the whilst it spake, +It doth remember me, that I beheld +The pair of blessed luminaries move. +Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes, +Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +Again mine eyes were fix’d on Beatrice, +And with mine eyes my soul, that in her looks +Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore +And, “Did I smile,” quoth she, “thou wouldst be straight +Like Semele when into ashes turn’d: +For, mounting these eternal palace-stairs, +My beauty, which the loftier it climbs, +As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more, +So shines, that, were no temp’ring interpos’d, +Thy mortal puissance would from its rays +Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt. +Into the seventh splendour are we wafted, +That underneath the burning lion’s breast +Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might, +Thy mind be with thine eyes: and in them mirror’d +The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown.” +Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed +My sight upon her blissful countenance, +May know, when to new thoughts I chang’d, what joy +To do the bidding of my heav’nly guide: +In equal balance poising either weight. + +Within the crystal, which records the name, +(As its remoter circle girds the world) +Of that lov’d monarch, in whose happy reign +No ill had power to harm, I saw rear’d up, +In colour like to sun-illumin’d gold. +A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain, +So lofty was the summit; down whose steps +I saw the splendours in such multitude +Descending, ev’ry light in heav’n, methought, +Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day +Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, +Some speed their way a-field, and homeward some, +Returning, cross their flight, while some abide +And wheel around their airy lodge; so seem’d +That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing, +As upon certain stair it met, and clash’d +Its shining. And one ling’ring near us, wax’d +So bright, that in my thought: said: “The love, +Which this betokens me, admits no doubt.” + +Unwillingly from question I refrain, +To her, by whom my silence and my speech +Are order’d, looking for a sign: whence she, +Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all, +Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me +T’ indulge the fervent wish; and I began: +“I am not worthy, of my own desert, +That thou shouldst answer me; but for her sake, +Who hath vouchsaf’d my asking, spirit blest! +That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause, +Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say, +Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise +Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds +Of rapt devotion ev’ry lower sphere?” +“Mortal art thou in hearing as in sight;” +Was the reply: “and what forbade the smile +Of Beatrice interrupts our song. +Only to yield thee gladness of my voice, +And of the light that vests me, I thus far +Descend these hallow’d steps: not that more love +Invites me; for lo! there aloft, as much +Or more of love is witness’d in those flames: +But such my lot by charity assign’d, +That makes us ready servants, as thou seest, +To execute the counsel of the Highest. +“That in this court,” said I, “O sacred lamp! +Love no compulsion needs, but follows free +Th’ eternal Providence, I well discern: +This harder find to deem, why of thy peers +Thou only to this office wert foredoom’d.” +I had not ended, when, like rapid mill, +Upon its centre whirl’d the light; and then +The love, that did inhabit there, replied: +“Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds, +Its virtue to my vision knits, and thus +Supported, lifts me so above myself, +That on the sov’ran essence, which it wells from, +I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy, +Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze +The keenness of my sight. But not the soul, +That is in heav’n most lustrous, nor the seraph +That hath his eyes most fix’d on God, shall solve +What thou hast ask’d: for in th’ abyss it lies +Of th’ everlasting statute sunk so low, +That no created ken may fathom it. +And, to the mortal world when thou return’st, +Be this reported; that none henceforth dare +Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn. +The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth +Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do, +Below, what passeth her ability, +When she is ta’en to heav’n.” By words like these +Admonish’d, I the question urg’d no more; +And of the spirit humbly sued alone +T’ instruct me of its state. “’Twixt either shore +Of Italy, nor distant from thy land, +A stony ridge ariseth, in such sort, +The thunder doth not lift his voice so high, +They call it Catria: at whose foot a cell +Is sacred to the lonely Eremite, +For worship set apart and holy rites.” +A third time thus it spake; then added: “There +So firmly to God’s service I adher’d, +That with no costlier viands than the juice +Of olives, easily I pass’d the heats +Of summer and the winter frosts, content +In heav’n-ward musings. Rich were the returns +And fertile, which that cloister once was us’d +To render to these heavens: now ’tis fall’n +Into a waste so empty, that ere long +Detection must lay bare its vanity +Pietro Damiano there was I y-clept: +Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt +Beside the Adriatic, in the house +Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close +Of mortal life, through much importuning +I was constrain’d to wear the hat that still +From bad to worse it shifted.—Cephas came; +He came, who was the Holy Spirit’s vessel, +Barefoot and lean, eating their bread, as chanc’d, +At the first table. Modern Shepherd’s need +Those who on either hand may prop and lead them, +So burly are they grown: and from behind +Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey’s sides +Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts +Are cover’d with one skin. O patience! thou +That lookst on this and doth endure so long.” +I at those accents saw the splendours down +From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax, +Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this +They came, and stay’d them; uttered them a shout +So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I +Wist what it spake, so deaf’ning was the thunder. + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +Astounded, to the guardian of my steps +I turn’d me, like the chill, who always runs +Thither for succour, where he trusteth most, +And she was like the mother, who her son +Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice +Soothes him, and he is cheer’d; for thus she spake, +Soothing me: “Know’st not thou, thou art in heav’n? +And know’st not thou, whatever is in heav’n, +Is holy, and that nothing there is done +But is done zealously and well? Deem now, +What change in thee the song, and what my smile +had wrought, since thus the shout had pow’r to move thee. +In which couldst thou have understood their prayers, +The vengeance were already known to thee, +Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour, +The sword of heav’n is not in haste to smite, +Nor yet doth linger, save unto his seeming, +Who in desire or fear doth look for it. +But elsewhere now l bid thee turn thy view; +So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold.” +Mine eyes directing, as she will’d, I saw +A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew +By interchange of splendour. I remain’d, +As one, who fearful of o’er-much presuming, +Abates in him the keenness of desire, +Nor dares to question, when amid those pearls, +One largest and most lustrous onward drew, +That it might yield contentment to my wish; +And from within it these the sounds I heard. + +“If thou, like me, beheldst the charity +That burns amongst us, what thy mind conceives, +Were utter’d. But that, ere the lofty bound +Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee, +I will make answer even to the thought, +Which thou hast such respect of. In old days, +That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests, +Was on its height frequented by a race +Deceived and ill dispos’d: and I it was, +Who thither carried first the name of Him, +Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man. +And such a speeding grace shone over me, +That from their impious worship I reclaim’d +The dwellers round about, who with the world +Were in delusion lost. These other flames, +The spirits of men contemplative, were all +Enliven’d by that warmth, whose kindly force +Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness. +Here is Macarius; Romoaldo here: +And here my brethren, who their steps refrain’d +Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart.” + +I answ’ring, thus; “Thy gentle words and kind, +And this the cheerful semblance, I behold +Not unobservant, beaming in ye all, +Have rais’d assurance in me, wakening it +Full-blossom’d in my bosom, as a rose +Before the sun, when the consummate flower +Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee +Therefore entreat I, father! to declare +If I may gain such favour, as to gaze +Upon thine image, by no covering veil’d.” + +“Brother!” he thus rejoin’d, “in the last sphere +Expect completion of thy lofty aim, +For there on each desire completion waits, +And there on mine: where every aim is found +Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe. +There all things are as they have ever been: +For space is none to bound, nor pole divides, +Our ladder reaches even to that clime, +And so at giddy distance mocks thy view. +Thither the Patriarch Jacob saw it stretch +Its topmost round, when it appear’d to him +With angels laden. But to mount it now +None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule +Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves; +The walls, for abbey rear’d, turned into dens, +The cowls to sacks choak’d up with musty meal. +Foul usury doth not more lift itself +Against God’s pleasure, than that fruit which makes +The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate’er +Is in the church’s keeping, all pertains. +To such, as sue for heav’n’s sweet sake, and not +To those who in respect of kindred claim, +Or on more vile allowance. Mortal flesh +Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not +From the oak’s birth, unto the acorn’s setting. +His convent Peter founded without gold +Or silver; I with pray’rs and fasting mine; +And Francis his in meek humility. +And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds, +Then look what it hath err’d to, thou shalt find +The white grown murky. Jordan was turn’d back; +And a less wonder, then the refluent sea, +May at God’s pleasure work amendment here.” + +So saying, to his assembly back he drew: +And they together cluster’d into one, +Then all roll’d upward like an eddying wind. + +The sweet dame beckon’d me to follow them: +And, by that influence only, so prevail’d +Over my nature, that no natural motion, +Ascending or descending here below, +Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied. + +So, reader, as my hope is to return +Unto the holy triumph, for the which +I ofttimes wail my sins, and smite my breast, +Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting +Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere +The sign, that followeth Taurus, I beheld, +And enter’d its precinct. O glorious stars! +O light impregnate with exceeding virtue! +To whom whate’er of genius lifteth me +Above the vulgar, grateful I refer; +With ye the parent of all mortal life +Arose and set, when I did first inhale +The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace +Vouchsaf’d me entrance to the lofty wheel +That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed +My passage at your clime. To you my soul +Devoutly sighs, for virtue even now +To meet the hard emprize that draws me on. + +“Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,” +Said Beatrice, “that behooves thy ken +Be vigilant and clear. And, to this end, +Or even thou advance thee further, hence +Look downward, and contemplate, what a world +Already stretched under our feet there lies: +So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood, +Present itself to the triumphal throng, +Which through the’ etherial concave comes rejoicing.” + +I straight obey’d; and with mine eye return’d +Through all the seven spheres, and saw this globe +So pitiful of semblance, that perforce +It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold +For wisest, who esteems it least: whose thoughts +Elsewhere are fix’d, him worthiest call and best. +I saw the daughter of Latona shine +Without the shadow, whereof late I deem’d +That dense and rare were cause. Here I sustain’d +The visage, Hyperion! of thy sun; +And mark’d, how near him with their circle, round +Move Maia and Dione; here discern’d +Jove’s tempering ’twixt his sire and son; and hence +Their changes and their various aspects +Distinctly scann’d. Nor might I not descry +Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift; +Nor of their several distances not learn. +This petty area (o’er the which we stride +So fiercely), as along the eternal twins +I wound my way, appear’d before me all, +Forth from the havens stretch’d unto the hills. +Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes return’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +E’en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower +Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night, +With her sweet brood, impatient to descry +Their wished looks, and to bring home their food, +In the fond quest unconscious of her toil: +She, of the time prevenient, on the spray, +That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze +Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn, +Removeth from the east her eager ken; +So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance +Wistfully on that region, where the sun +Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her +Suspense and wand’ring, I became as one, +In whom desire is waken’d, and the hope +Of somewhat new to come fills with delight. + +Short space ensued; I was not held, I say, +Long in expectance, when I saw the heav’n +Wax more and more resplendent; and, “Behold,” +Cried Beatrice, “the triumphal hosts +Of Christ, and all the harvest reap’d at length +Of thy ascending up these spheres.” Meseem’d, +That, while she spake her image all did burn, +And in her eyes such fullness was of joy, +And I am fain to pass unconstrued by. + +As in the calm full moon, when Trivia smiles, +In peerless beauty, ’mid th’ eternal nympus, +That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound +In bright pre-eminence so saw I there, +O’er million lamps a sun, from whom all drew +Their radiance as from ours the starry train: +And through the living light so lustrous glow’d +The substance, that my ken endur’d it not. + +O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide! +Who cheer’d me with her comfortable words! +“Against the virtue, that o’erpow’reth thee, +Avails not to resist. Here is the might, +And here the wisdom, which did open lay +The path, that had been yearned for so long, +Betwixt the heav’n and earth.” Like to the fire, +That, in a cloud imprison’d doth break out +Expansive, so that from its womb enlarg’d, +It falleth against nature to the ground; +Thus in that heav’nly banqueting my soul +Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost. +Holds now remembrance none of what she was. + +“Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen +Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile.” + +I was as one, when a forgotten dream +Doth come across him, and he strives in vain +To shape it in his fantasy again, +Whenas that gracious boon was proffer’d me, +Which never may be cancel’d from the book, +Wherein the past is written. Now were all +Those tongues to sound, that have on sweetest milk +Of Polyhymnia and her sisters fed +And fatten’d, not with all their help to boot, +Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth, +My song might shadow forth that saintly smile, +flow merely in her saintly looks it wrought. +And with such figuring of Paradise +The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets +A sudden interruption to his road. +But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme, +And that ’tis lain upon a mortal shoulder, +May pardon, if it tremble with the burden. +The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks +No unribb’d pinnace, no self-sparing pilot. + +“Why doth my face,” said Beatrice, “thus +Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn +Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming +Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the rose, +Wherein the word divine was made incarnate; +And here the lilies, by whose odour known +The way of life was follow’d.” Prompt I heard +Her bidding, and encounter once again +The strife of aching vision. As erewhile, +Through glance of sunlight, stream’d through broken cloud, +Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen, +Though veil’d themselves in shade; so saw I there +Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays +Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not +The fountain whence they flow’d. O gracious virtue! +Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up +Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room +To my o’erlabour’d sight: when at the name +Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke +Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might +Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix’d. +And, as the bright dimensions of the star +In heav’n excelling, as once here on earth +Were, in my eyeballs lively portray’d, +Lo! from within the sky a cresset fell, +Circling in fashion of a diadem, +And girt the star, and hov’ring round it wheel’d. + +Whatever melody sounds sweetest here, +And draws the spirit most unto itself, +Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder, +Compar’d unto the sounding of that lyre, +Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays +The floor of heav’n, was crown’d. “ Angelic Love +I am, who thus with hov’ring flight enwheel +The lofty rapture from that womb inspir’d, +Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so, +Lady of Heav’n! will hover; long as thou +Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy +Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere.” + +Such close was to the circling melody: +And, as it ended, all the other lights +Took up the strain, and echoed Mary’s name. + +The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps +The world, and with the nearer breath of God +Doth burn and quiver, held so far retir’d +Its inner hem and skirting over us, +That yet no glimmer of its majesty +Had stream’d unto me: therefore were mine eyes +Unequal to pursue the crowned flame, +That rose and sought its natal seed of fire; +And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms +For very eagerness towards the breast, +After the milk is taken; so outstretch’d +Their wavy summits all the fervent band, +Through zealous love to Mary: then in view +There halted, and “Regina Coeli “ sang +So sweetly, the delight hath left me never. + +O what o’erflowing plenty is up-pil’d +In those rich-laden coffers, which below +Sow’d the good seed, whose harvest now they keep. + +Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears +Were in the Babylonian exile won, +When gold had fail’d them. Here in synod high +Of ancient council with the new conven’d, +Under the Son of Mary and of God, +Victorious he his mighty triumph holds, +To whom the keys of glory were assign’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +“O ye! in chosen fellowship advanc’d +To the great supper of the blessed Lamb, +Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill’d! +If to this man through God’s grace be vouchsaf’d +Foretaste of that, which from your table falls, +Or ever death his fated term prescribe; +Be ye not heedless of his urgent will; +But may some influence of your sacred dews +Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye alway drink, +Whence flows what most he craves.” Beatrice spake, +And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres +On firm-set poles revolving, trail’d a blaze +Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind +Their circles in the horologe, so work +The stated rounds, that to th’ observant eye +The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last; +E’en thus their carols weaving variously, +They by the measure pac’d, or swift, or slow, +Made me to rate the riches of their joy. + +From that, which I did note in beauty most +Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame +So bright, as none was left more goodly there. +Round Beatrice thrice it wheel’d about, +With so divine a song, that fancy’s ear +Records it not; and the pen passeth on +And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech, +Nor e’en the inward shaping of the brain, +Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds. + +“O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout +Is with so vehement affection urg’d, +Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere.” + +Such were the accents towards my lady breath’d +From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay’d: +To whom she thus: “O everlasting light +Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord +Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss +He bare below! tent this man, as thou wilt, +With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith, +By the which thou didst on the billows walk. +If he in love, in hope, and in belief, +Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou +Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld +In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith +Has peopled this fair realm with citizens, +Meet is, that to exalt its glory more, +Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse.” + +Like to the bachelor, who arms himself, +And speaks not, till the master have propos’d +The question, to approve, and not to end it; +So I, in silence, arm’d me, while she spake, +Summoning up each argument to aid; +As was behooveful for such questioner, +And such profession: “As good Christian ought, +Declare thee, What is faith?” Whereat I rais’d +My forehead to the light, whence this had breath’d, +Then turn’d to Beatrice, and in her looks +Approval met, that from their inmost fount +I should unlock the waters. “May the grace, +That giveth me the captain of the church +For confessor,” said I, “vouchsafe to me +Apt utterance for my thoughts!” then added: “Sire! +E’en as set down by the unerring style +Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspir’d +To bring Rome in unto the way of life, +Faith of things hop’d is substance, and the proof +Of things not seen; and herein doth consist +Methinks its essence,”—” Rightly hast thou deem’d,” +Was answer’d: “if thou well discern, why first +He hath defin’d it, substance, and then proof.” + +“The deep things,” I replied, “which here I scan +Distinctly, are below from mortal eye +So hidden, they have in belief alone +Their being, on which credence hope sublime +Is built; and therefore substance it intends. +And inasmuch as we must needs infer +From such belief our reasoning, all respect +To other view excluded, hence of proof +Th’ intention is deriv’d.” Forthwith I heard: +“If thus, whate’er by learning men attain, +Were understood, the sophist would want room +To exercise his wit.” So breath’d the flame +Of love: then added: “Current is the coin +Thou utter’st, both in weight and in alloy. +But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse.” + +“Even so glittering and so round,” said I, +“I not a whit misdoubt of its assay.” + +Next issued from the deep imbosom’d splendour: +“Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which +Is founded every virtue, came to thee.” +“The flood,” I answer’d, “from the Spirit of God +Rain’d down upon the ancient bond and new,— +Here is the reas’ning, that convinceth me +So feelingly, each argument beside +Seems blunt and forceless in comparison.” +Then heard I: “Wherefore holdest thou that each, +The elder proposition and the new, +Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heav’n?” + +“The works, that follow’d, evidence their truth; “ +I answer’d: “Nature did not make for these +The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them.” +“Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves, +Was the reply, “that they in very deed +Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee.” + +“That all the world,” said I, “should have bee turn’d +To Christian, and no miracle been wrought, +Would in itself be such a miracle, +The rest were not an hundredth part so great. +E’en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger +To set the goodly plant, that from the vine, +It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble.” +That ended, through the high celestial court +Resounded all the spheres. “Praise we one God!” +In song of most unearthly melody. +And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch, +Examining, had led me, that we now +Approach’d the topmost bough, he straight resum’d; +“The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul, +So far discreetly hath thy lips unclos’d +That, whatsoe’er has past them, I commend. +Behooves thee to express, what thou believ’st, +The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown.” + +“O saintly sire and spirit!” I began, +“Who seest that, which thou didst so believe, +As to outstrip feet younger than thine own, +Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here, +That I the tenour of my creed unfold; +And thou the cause of it hast likewise ask’d. +And I reply: I in one God believe, +One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love +All heav’n is mov’d, himself unmov’d the while. +Nor demonstration physical alone, +Or more intelligential and abstruse, +Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth +It cometh to me rather, which is shed +Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms. +The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write, +When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost. +In three eternal Persons I believe, +Essence threefold and one, mysterious league +Of union absolute, which, many a time, +The word of gospel lore upon my mind +Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark, +The lively flame dilates, and like heav’n’s star +Doth glitter in me.” As the master hears, +Well pleas’d, and then enfoldeth in his arms +The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought, +And having told the errand keeps his peace; +Thus benediction uttering with song +Soon as my peace I held, compass’d me thrice +The apostolic radiance, whose behest +Had op’d lips; so well their answer pleas’d. + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +If e’er the sacred poem that hath made +Both heav’n and earth copartners in its toil, +And with lean abstinence, through many a year, +Faded my brow, be destin’d to prevail +Over the cruelty, which bars me forth +Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb +The wolves set on and fain had worried me, +With other voice and fleece of other grain +I shall forthwith return, and, standing up +At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath +Due to the poet’s temples: for I there +First enter’d on the faith which maketh souls +Acceptable to God: and, for its sake, +Peter had then circled my forehead thus. + +Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth +The first fruit of Christ’s vicars on the earth, +Toward us mov’d a light, at view whereof +My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: +“Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might, +That makes Falicia throng’d with visitants!” + +As when the ring-dove by his mate alights, +In circles each about the other wheels, +And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I +One, of the other great and glorious prince, +With kindly greeting hail’d, extolling both +Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end +Was to their gratulation, silent, each, +Before me sat they down, so burning bright, +I could not look upon them. Smiling then, +Beatrice spake: “O life in glory shrin’d!” +Who didst the largess of our kingly court +Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice +Of hope the praises in this height resound. +For thou, who figur’st them in shapes, as clear, +As Jesus stood before thee, well can’st speak them.” + +“Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust: +For that, which hither from the mortal world +Arriveth, must be ripen’d in our beam.” + +Such cheering accents from the second flame +Assur’d me; and mine eyes I lifted up +Unto the mountains that had bow’d them late +With over-heavy burden. “Sith our Liege +Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death, +In the most secret council, with his lords +Shouldst be confronted, so that having view’d +The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith +Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate +With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, +What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee, +And whence thou hadst it?” Thus proceeding still, +The second light: and she, whose gentle love +My soaring pennons in that lofty flight +Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin’d: +Among her sons, not one more full of hope, +Hath the church militant: so ’tis of him +Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb +Enlighteneth all our tribe: and ere his term +Of warfare, hence permitted he is come, +From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see. +The other points, both which thou hast inquir’d, +Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell +How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him +Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease, +And without boasting, so God give him grace.” +Like to the scholar, practis’d in his task, +Who, willing to give proof of diligence, +Seconds his teacher gladly, “Hope,” said I, +“Is of the joy to come a sure expectance, +Th’ effect of grace divine and merit preceding. +This light from many a star visits my heart, +But flow’d to me the first from him, who sang +The songs of the Supreme, himself supreme +Among his tuneful brethren. ‘Let all hope +In thee,’ so speak his anthem, ‘who have known +Thy name;’ and with my faith who know not that? +From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, +In thine epistle, fell on me the drops +So plenteously, that I on others shower +The influence of their dew.” Whileas I spake, +A lamping, as of quick and vollied lightning, +Within the bosom of that mighty sheen, +Play’d tremulous; then forth these accents breath’d: +“Love for the virtue which attended me +E’en to the palm, and issuing from the field, +Glows vigorous yet within me, and inspires +To ask of thee, whom also it delights; +What promise thou from hope in chief dost win.” + +“Both scriptures, new and ancient,” I reply’d; +“Propose the mark (which even now I view) +For souls belov’d of God. Isaias saith, + +That, in their own land, each one must be clad +In twofold vesture; and their proper lands this delicious life. +In terms more full, +And clearer far, thy brother hath set forth +This revelation to us, where he tells +Of the white raiment destin’d to the saints.” +And, as the words were ending, from above, +“They hope in thee,” first heard we cried: whereto +Answer’d the carols all. Amidst them next, +A light of so clear amplitude emerg’d, +That winter’s month were but a single day, +Were such a crystal in the Cancer’s sign. + +Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes, +And enters on the mazes of the dance, +Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent, +Than to do fitting honour to the bride; +So I beheld the new effulgence come +Unto the other two, who in a ring +Wheel’d, as became their rapture. In the dance +And in the song it mingled. And the dame +Held on them fix’d her looks: e’en as the spouse +Silent and moveless. “This is he, who lay +Upon the bosom of our pelican: +This he, into whose keeping from the cross +The mighty charge was given.” Thus she spake, +Yet therefore naught the more remov’d her Sight +From marking them, or ere her words began, +Or when they clos’d. As he, who looks intent, +And strives with searching ken, how he may see +The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire +Of seeing, loseth power of sight: so I +Peer’d on that last resplendence, while I heard: +“Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that, +Which here abides not? Earth my body is, +In earth: and shall be, with the rest, so long, +As till our number equal the decree +Of the Most High. The two that have ascended, +In this our blessed cloister, shine alone +With the two garments. So report below.” + +As when, for ease of labour, or to shun +Suspected peril at a whistle’s breath, +The oars, erewhile dash’d frequent in the wave, +All rest; the flamy circle at that voice +So rested, and the mingling sound was still, +Which from the trinal band soft-breathing rose. +I turn’d, but ah! how trembled in my thought, +When, looking at my side again to see +Beatrice, I descried her not, although +Not distant, on the happy coast she stood. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +With dazzled eyes, whilst wond’ring I remain’d, +Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me, +Issued a breath, that in attention mute +Detain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well, +That, long as till thy vision, on my form +O’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse +Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then, +Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires: +And meanwhile rest assur’d, that sight in thee +Is but o’erpowered a space, not wholly quench’d: +Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look +Hath potency, the like to that which dwelt +In Ananias’ hand.” I answering thus: +“Be to mine eyes the remedy or late +Or early, at her pleasure; for they were +The gates, at which she enter’d, and did light +Her never dying fire. My wishes here +Are centered; in this palace is the weal, +That Alpha and Omega, is to all +The lessons love can read me.” Yet again +The voice which had dispers’d my fear, when daz’d +With that excess, to converse urg’d, and spake: +“Behooves thee sift more narrowly thy terms, +And say, who level’d at this scope thy bow.” + +“Philosophy,” said I, “hath arguments, +And this place hath authority enough +’T’ imprint in me such love: for, of constraint, +Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, +Kindles our love, and in degree the more, +As it comprises more of goodness in ’t. +The essence then, where such advantage is, +That each good, found without it, is naught else +But of his light the beam, must needs attract +The soul of each one, loving, who the truth +Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth +Learn I from him, who shows me the first love +Of all intelligential substances +Eternal: from his voice I learn, whose word +Is truth, that of himself to Moses saith, +‘I will make all my good before thee pass.’ +Lastly from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st, +E’en at the outset of thy heralding, +In mortal ears the mystery of heav’n.” + +“Through human wisdom, and th’ authority +Therewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keep +The choicest of thy love for God. But say, +If thou yet other cords within thee feel’st +That draw thee towards him; so that thou report +How many are the fangs, with which this love +Is grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss, +To what intent the eagle of our Lord +Had pointed his demand; yea noted well +Th’ avowal, which he led to; and resum’d: +“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God, +Confederate to make fast our clarity. +The being of the world, and mine own being, +The death which he endur’d that I should live, +And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do, +To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d, +Have from the sea of ill love sav’d my bark, +And on the coast secur’d it of the right. +As for the leaves, that in the garden bloom, +My love for them is great, as is the good +Dealt by th’ eternal hand, that tends them all.” + +I ended, and therewith a song most sweet +Rang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,” +Accordant with the rest my lady sang. +And as a sleep is broken and dispers’d +Through sharp encounter of the nimble light, +With the eye’s spirit running forth to meet +The ray, from membrane on to the membrane urg’d; +And the upstartled wight loathes that be sees; +So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems +Of all around him, till assurance waits +On better judgment: thus the saintly came +Drove from before mine eyes the motes away, +With the resplendence of her own, that cast +Their brightness downward, thousand miles below. +Whence I my vision, clearer shall before, +Recover’d; and, well nigh astounded, ask’d +Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw. + +And Beatrice: “The first diving soul, +That ever the first virtue fram’d, admires +Within these rays his Maker.” Like the leaf, +That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown; +By its own virtue rear’d then stands aloof; +So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow’d. +Then eagerness to speak embolden’d me; +And I began: “O fruit! that wast alone +Mature, when first engender’d! Ancient father! +That doubly seest in every wedded bride +Thy daughter by affinity and blood! +Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold +Converse with me: my will thou seest; and I, +More speedily to hear thee, tell it not “ + +It chanceth oft some animal bewrays, +Through the sleek cov’ring of his furry coat. +The fondness, that stirs in him and conforms +His outside seeming to the cheer within: +And in like guise was Adam’s spirit mov’d +To joyous mood, that through the covering shone, +Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake: +“No need thy will be told, which I untold +Better discern, than thou whatever thing +Thou holdst most certain: for that will I see +In Him, who is truth’s mirror, and Himself +Parhelion unto all things, and naught else +To him. This wouldst thou hear; how long since God +Plac’d me high garden, from whose hounds +She led me up in this ladder, steep and long; +What space endur’d my season of delight; +Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me; +And what the language, which I spake and fram’d +Not that I tasted of the tree, my son, +Was in itself the cause of that exile, +But only my transgressing of the mark +Assign’d me. There, whence at thy lady’s hest +The Mantuan mov’d him, still was I debarr’d +This council, till the sun had made complete, +Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice, +His annual journey; and, through every light +In his broad pathway, saw I him return, +Thousand save sev’nty times, the whilst I dwelt +Upon the earth. The language I did use +Was worn away, or ever Nimrod’s race +Their unaccomplishable work began. +For naught, that man inclines to, ere was lasting, +Left by his reason free, and variable, +As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks, +Is nature’s prompting: whether thus or thus, +She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it. +Ere I descended into hell’s abyss, +El was the name on earth of the Chief Good, +Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’d +And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use +Is as the leaf upon the bough; that goes, +And other comes instead. Upon the mount +Most high above the waters, all my life, +Both innocent and guilty, did but reach +From the first hour, to that which cometh next +(As the sun changes quarter), to the sixth. + + + + +CANTO XXVII + + +Then “Glory to the Father, to the Son, +And to the Holy Spirit,” rang aloud +Throughout all Paradise, that with the song +My spirit reel’d, so passing sweet the strain: +And what I saw was equal ecstasy; +One universal smile it seem’d of all things, +Joy past compare, gladness unutterable, +Imperishable life of peace and love, +Exhaustless riches and unmeasur’d bliss. + +Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit; +And that, which first had come, began to wax +In brightness, and in semblance such became, +As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds, +And interchang’d their plumes. Silence ensued, +Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints +Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin’d; +When thus I heard: “Wonder not, if my hue +Be chang’d; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see +All in like manner change with me. My place +He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine, +Which in the presence of the Son of God +Is void), the same hath made my cemetery +A common sewer of puddle and of blood: +The more below his triumph, who from hence +Malignant fell.” Such colour, as the sun, +At eve or morning, paints and adverse cloud, +Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky. +And as th’ unblemish’d dame, who in herself +Secure of censure, yet at bare report +Of other’s failing, shrinks with maiden fear; +So Beatrice in her semblance chang’d: +And such eclipse in heav’n methinks was seen, +When the Most Holy suffer’d. Then the words +Proceeded, with voice, alter’d from itself +So clean, the semblance did not alter more. +“Not to this end was Christ’s spouse with my blood, +With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed: +That she might serve for purchase of base gold: +But for the purchase of this happy life +Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed, +And Urban, they, whose doom was not without +Much weeping seal’d. No purpose was of our +That on the right hand of our successors +Part of the Christian people should be set, +And part upon their left; nor that the keys, +Which were vouchsaf’d me, should for ensign serve +Unto the banners, that do levy war +On the baptiz’d: nor I, for sigil-mark +Set upon sold and lying privileges; +Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red. +In shepherd’s clothing greedy wolves below +Range wide o’er all the pastures. Arm of God! +Why longer sleepst thou? Caorsines and Gascona +Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning +To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop! +But the high providence, which did defend +Through Scipio the world’s glory unto Rome, +Will not delay its succour: and thou, son, +Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again +Return below, open thy lips, nor hide +What is by me not hidden.” As a Hood +Of frozen vapours streams adown the air, +What time the she-goat with her skiey horn +Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide +The vapours, who with us had linger’d late +And with glad triumph deck th’ ethereal cope. +Onward my sight their semblances pursued; +So far pursued, as till the space between +From its reach sever’d them: whereat the guide +Celestial, marking me no more intent +On upward gazing, said, “Look down and see +What circuit thou hast compass’d.” From the hour +When I before had cast my view beneath, +All the first region overpast I saw, +Which from the midmost to the bound’ry winds; +That onward thence from Gades I beheld +The unwise passage of Laertes’ son, +And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa! +Mad’st thee a joyful burden: and yet more +Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun, +A constellation off and more, had ta’en +His progress in the zodiac underneath. + +Then by the spirit, that doth never leave +Its amorous dalliance with my lady’s looks, +Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes +Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles, +Whenas I turn’d me, pleasure so divine +Did lighten on me, that whatever bait +Or art or nature in the human flesh, +Or in its limn’d resemblance, can combine +Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal, +Were to her beauty nothing. Its boon influence +From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth, +And wafted on into the swiftest heav’n. + +What place for entrance Beatrice chose, +I may not say, so uniform was all, +Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish +Divin’d; and with such gladness, that God’s love +Seem’d from her visage shining, thus began: +“Here is the goal, whence motion on his race +Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest +All mov’d around. Except the soul divine, +Place in this heav’n is none, the soul divine, +Wherein the love, which ruleth o’er its orb, +Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds; +One circle, light and love, enclasping it, +As this doth clasp the others; and to Him, +Who draws the bound, its limit only known. +Measur’d itself by none, it doth divide +Motion to all, counted unto them forth, +As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten. +The vase, wherein time’s roots are plung’d, thou seest, +Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust! +That canst not lift thy head above the waves +Which whelm and sink thee down! The will in man +Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise +Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain, +Made mere abortion: faith and innocence +Are met with but in babes, each taking leave +Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts, +While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose +Gluts every food alike in every moon. +One yet a babbler, loves and listens to +His mother; but no sooner hath free use +Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave. +So suddenly doth the fair child of him, +Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting, +To negro blackness change her virgin white. + +“Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none +Bears rule in earth, and its frail family +Are therefore wand’rers. Yet before the date, +When through the hundredth in his reck’ning drops +Pale January must be shor’d aside +From winter’s calendar, these heav’nly spheres +Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain +To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow; +So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit, +Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!” + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + + +So she who doth imparadise my soul, +Had drawn the veil from off our pleasant life, +And bar’d the truth of poor mortality; +When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies +The shining of a flambeau at his back, +Lit sudden ore he deem of its approach, +And turneth to resolve him, if the glass +Have told him true, and sees the record faithful +As note is to its metre; even thus, +I well remember, did befall to me, +Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love +Had made the leash to take me. As I turn’d; +And that, which, in their circles, none who spies, +Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck +On mine; a point I saw, that darted light +So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up +Against its keenness. The least star we view +From hence, had seem’d a moon, set by its side, +As star by side of star. And so far off, +Perchance, as is the halo from the light +Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads, +There wheel’d about the point a circle of fire, +More rapid than the motion, which first girds +The world. Then, circle after circle, round +Enring’d each other; till the seventh reach’d +Circumference so ample, that its bow, +Within the span of Juno’s messenger, +lied scarce been held entire. Beyond the sev’nth, +Follow’d yet other two. And every one, +As more in number distant from the first, +Was tardier in motion; and that glow’d +With flame most pure, that to the sparkle’ of truth +Was nearest, as partaking most, methinks, +Of its reality. The guide belov’d +Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake: +“Heav’n, and all nature, hangs upon that point. +The circle thereto most conjoin’d observe; +And know, that by intenser love its course +Is to this swiftness wing’d. “To whom I thus: +“It were enough; nor should I further seek, +Had I but witness’d order, in the world +Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen. +But in the sensible world such diff’rence is, +That is each round shows more divinity, +As each is wider from the centre. Hence, +If in this wondrous and angelic temple, +That hath for confine only light and love, +My wish may have completion I must know, +Wherefore such disagreement is between +Th’ exemplar and its copy: for myself, +Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause.” + +“It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil’d +Do leave the knot untied: so hard ’tis grown +For want of tenting.” Thus she said: “But take,” +She added, “if thou wish thy cure, my words, +And entertain them subtly. Every orb +Corporeal, doth proportion its extent +Unto the virtue through its parts diffus’d. +The greater blessedness preserves the more. +The greater is the body (if all parts +Share equally) the more is to preserve. +Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels +The universal frame answers to that, +Which is supreme in knowledge and in love +Thus by the virtue, not the seeming, breadth +Of substance, measure, thou shalt see the heav’ns, +Each to the’ intelligence that ruleth it, +Greater to more, and smaller unto less, +Suited in strict and wondrous harmony.” + +As when the sturdy north blows from his cheek +A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air, +Clear’d of the rack, that hung on it before, +Glitters; and, With his beauties all unveil’d, +The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles; +Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove +With clear reply the shadows back, and truth +Was manifested, as a star in heaven. +And when the words were ended, not unlike +To iron in the furnace, every cirque +Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires: +And every sparkle shivering to new blaze, +In number did outmillion the account +Reduplicate upon the chequer’d board. +Then heard I echoing on from choir to choir, +“Hosanna,” to the fixed point, that holds, +And shall for ever hold them to their place, +From everlasting, irremovable. + +Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw +by inward meditations, thus began: +“In the first circles, they, whom thou beheldst, +Are seraphim and cherubim. Thus swift +Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point, +Near as they can, approaching; and they can +The more, the loftier their vision. Those, +That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next, +Are thrones; in whom the first trine ends. And all +Are blessed, even as their sight descends +Deeper into the truth, wherein rest is +For every mind. Thus happiness hath root +In seeing, not in loving, which of sight +Is aftergrowth. And of the seeing such +The meed, as unto each in due degree +Grace and good-will their measure have assign’d. +The other trine, that with still opening buds +In this eternal springtide blossom fair, +Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram, +Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold +Hosannas blending ever, from the three +Transmitted. hierarchy of gods, for aye +Rejoicing, dominations first, next then +Virtues, and powers the third. The next to whom +Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round +To tread their festal ring; and last the band +Angelical, disporting in their sphere. +All, as they circle in their orders, look +Aloft, and downward with such sway prevail, +That all with mutual impulse tend to God. +These once a mortal view beheld. Desire +In Dionysius so intently wrought, +That he, as I have done rang’d them; and nam’d +Their orders, marshal’d in his thought. From him +Dissentient, one refus’d his sacred read. +But soon as in this heav’n his doubting eyes +Were open’d, Gregory at his error smil’d +Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth +Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt +Both this and much beside of these our orbs, +From an eye-witness to heav’n’s mysteries.” + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +No longer than what time Latona’s twins +Cover’d of Libra and the fleecy star, +Together both, girding the’ horizon hang, +In even balance from the zenith pois’d, +Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere, +Part the nice level; e’en so brief a space +Did Beatrice’s silence hold. A smile +Bat painted on her cheek; and her fix’d gaze +Bent on the point, at which my vision fail’d: +When thus her words resuming she began: +“I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand; +For I have mark’d it, where all time and place +Are present. Not for increase to himself +Of good, which may not be increas’d, but forth +To manifest his glory by its beams, +Inhabiting his own eternity, +Beyond time’s limit or what bound soe’er +To circumscribe his being, as he will’d, +Into new natures, like unto himself, +Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before, +As if in dull inaction torpid lay. +For not in process of before or aft +Upon these waters mov’d the Spirit of God. +Simple and mix’d, both form and substance, forth +To perfect being started, like three darts +Shot from a bow three-corded. And as ray +In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire, +E’en at the moment of its issuing; thus +Did, from th’ eternal Sovran, beam entire +His threefold operation, at one act +Produc’d coeval. Yet in order each +Created his due station knew: those highest, +Who pure intelligence were made: mere power +The lowest: in the midst, bound with strict league, +Intelligence and power, unsever’d bond. +Long tract of ages by the angels past, +Ere the creating of another world, +Describ’d on Jerome’s pages thou hast seen. +But that what I disclose to thee is true, +Those penmen, whom the Holy Spirit mov’d +In many a passage of their sacred book +Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find +And reason in some sort discerns the same, +Who scarce would grant the heav’nly ministers +Of their perfection void, so long a space. +Thus when and where these spirits of love were made, +Thou know’st, and how: and knowing hast allay’d +Thy thirst, which from the triple question rose. +Ere one had reckon’d twenty, e’en so soon +Part of the angels fell: and in their fall +Confusion to your elements ensued. +The others kept their station: and this task, +Whereon thou lookst, began with such delight, +That they surcease not ever, day nor night, +Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause +Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen +Pent with the world’s incumbrance. Those, whom here +Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves +Of his free bounty, who had made them apt +For ministries so high: therefore their views +Were by enlight’ning grace and their own merit +Exalted; so that in their will confirm’d +They stand, nor feel to fall. For do not doubt, +But to receive the grace, which heav’n vouchsafes, +Is meritorious, even as the soul +With prompt affection welcometh the guest. +Now, without further help, if with good heed +My words thy mind have treasur’d, thou henceforth +This consistory round about mayst scan, +And gaze thy fill. But since thou hast on earth +Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools, +Canvas the’ angelic nature, and dispute +Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice; +Therefore, ’tis well thou take from me the truth, +Pure and without disguise, which they below, +Equivocating, darken and perplex. + +“Know thou, that, from the first, these substances, +Rejoicing in the countenance of God, +Have held unceasingly their view, intent +Upon the glorious vision, from the which +Naught absent is nor hid: where then no change +Of newness with succession interrupts, +Remembrance there needs none to gather up +Divided thought and images remote + +“So that men, thus at variance with the truth +Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some +Of error; others well aware they err, +To whom more guilt and shame are justly due. +Each the known track of sage philosophy +Deserts, and has a byway of his own: +So much the restless eagerness to shine +And love of singularity prevail. +Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes +Heav’n’s anger less, than when the book of God +Is forc’d to yield to man’s authority, +Or from its straightness warp’d: no reck’ning made +What blood the sowing of it in the world +Has cost; what favour for himself he wins, +Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all +Is how to shine: e’en they, whose office is +To preach the Gospel, let the gospel sleep, +And pass their own inventions off instead. +One tells, how at Christ’s suffering the wan moon +Bent back her steps, and shadow’d o’er the sun +With intervenient disk, as she withdrew: +Another, how the light shrouded itself +Within its tabernacle, and left dark +The Spaniard and the Indian, with the Jew. +Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears, +Bandied about more frequent, than the names +Of Bindi and of Lapi in her streets. +The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return +From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails +For their excuse, they do not see their harm? +Christ said not to his first conventicle, +‘Go forth and preach impostures to the world,’ +But gave them truth to build on; and the sound +Was mighty on their lips; nor needed they, +Beside the gospel, other spear or shield, +To aid them in their warfare for the faith. +The preacher now provides himself with store +Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack +Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl +Distends, and he has won the meed he sought: +Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while +Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood, +They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said. +Which now the dotards hold in such esteem, +That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad +The hands of holy promise, finds a throng +Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony +Fattens with this his swine, and others worse +Than swine, who diet at his lazy board, +Paying with unstamp’d metal for their fare. + +“But (for we far have wander’d) let us seek +The forward path again; so as the way +Be shorten’d with the time. No mortal tongue +Nor thought of man hath ever reach’d so far, +That of these natures he might count the tribes. +What Daniel of their thousands hath reveal’d +With finite number infinite conceals. +The fountain at whose source these drink their beams, +With light supplies them in as many modes, +As there are splendours, that it shines on: each +According to the virtue it conceives, +Differing in love and sweet affection. +Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth +The’ eternal might, which, broken and dispers’d +Over such countless mirrors, yet remains +Whole in itself and one, as at the first.” + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +Noon’s fervid hour perchance six thousand miles +From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone +Almost to level on our earth declines; +When from the midmost of this blue abyss +By turns some star is to our vision lost. +And straightway as the handmaid of the sun +Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light, +Fade, and the spangled firmament shuts in, +E’en to the loveliest of the glittering throng. +Thus vanish’d gradually from my sight +The triumph, which plays ever round the point, +That overcame me, seeming (for it did) +Engirt by that it girdeth. Wherefore love, +With loss of other object, forc’d me bend +Mine eyes on Beatrice once again. + +If all, that hitherto is told of her, +Were in one praise concluded, ’twere too weak +To furnish out this turn. Mine eyes did look +On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth, +Not merely to exceed our human, but, +That save its Maker, none can to the full +Enjoy it. At this point o’erpower’d I fail, +Unequal to my theme, as never bard +Of buskin or of sock hath fail’d before. +For, as the sun doth to the feeblest sight, +E’en so remembrance of that witching smile +Hath dispossess my spirit of itself. +Not from that day, when on this earth I first +Beheld her charms, up to that view of them, +Have I with song applausive ever ceas’d +To follow, but not follow them no more; +My course here bounded, as each artist’s is, +When it doth touch the limit of his skill. + +She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit +Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on, +Urging its arduous matter to the close), +Her words resum’d, in gesture and in voice +Resembling one accustom’d to command: +“Forth from the last corporeal are we come +Into the heav’n, that is unbodied light, +Light intellectual replete with love, +Love of true happiness replete with joy, +Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight. +Here shalt thou look on either mighty host +Of Paradise; and one in that array, +Which in the final judgment thou shalt see.” + +As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen +Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes +The visive spirits dazzled and bedimm’d; +So, round about me, fulminating streams +Of living radiance play’d, and left me swath’d +And veil’d in dense impenetrable blaze. +Such weal is in the love, that stills this heav’n; +For its own flame the torch this fitting ever! + +No sooner to my list’ning ear had come +The brief assurance, than I understood +New virtue into me infus’d, and sight +Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain +Excess of light, however pure. I look’d; +And in the likeness of a river saw +Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves +Flash’d up effulgence, as they glided on +’Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring, +Incredible how fair; and, from the tide, +There ever and anon, outstarting, flew +Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flow’rs +Did set them, like to rubies chas’d in gold; +Then, as if drunk with odors, plung’d again +Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one +Re’enter’d, still another rose. “The thirst +Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflam’d, +To search the meaning of what here thou seest, +The more it warms thee, pleases me the more. +But first behooves thee of this water drink, +Or ere that longing be allay’d.” So spake +The day-star of mine eyes; then thus subjoin’d: +“This stream, and these, forth issuing from its gulf, +And diving back, a living topaz each, +With all this laughter on its bloomy shores, +Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth +They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things +Are crude; but on thy part is the defect, +For that thy views not yet aspire so high.” +Never did babe, that had outslept his wont, +Rush, with such eager straining, to the milk, +As I toward the water, bending me, +To make the better mirrors of mine eyes +In the refining wave; and, as the eaves +Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith +Seem’d it unto me turn’d from length to round, +Then as a troop of maskers, when they put +Their vizors off, look other than before, +The counterfeited semblance thrown aside; +So into greater jubilee were chang’d +Those flowers and sparkles, and distinct I saw +Before me either court of heav’n displac’d. + +O prime enlightener! thou who crav’st me strength +On the high triumph of thy realm to gaze! +Grant virtue now to utter what I kenn’d, + There is in heav’n a light, whose goodly shine +Makes the Creator visible to all +Created, that in seeing him alone +Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far, +That the circumference were too loose a zone +To girdle in the sun. All is one beam, +Reflected from the summit of the first, +That moves, which being hence and vigour takes, +And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes +Its image mirror’d in the crystal flood, +As if ’t admire its brave appareling +Of verdure and of flowers: so, round about, +Eyeing the light, on more than million thrones, +Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth +Has to the skies return’d. How wide the leaves +Extended to their utmost of this rose, +Whose lowest step embosoms such a space +Of ample radiance! Yet, nor amplitude +Nor height impeded, but my view with ease +Took in the full dimensions of that joy. +Near or remote, what there avails, where God +Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends +Her sway? Into the yellow of the rose +Perennial, which in bright expansiveness, +Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent +Of praises to the never-wint’ring sun, +As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace, +Beatrice led me; and, “Behold,” she said, +“This fair assemblage! stoles of snowy white +How numberless! The city, where we dwell, +Behold how vast! and these our seats so throng’d +Few now are wanting here! In that proud stall, +On which, the crown, already o’er its state +Suspended, holds thine eyes—or ere thyself +Mayst at the wedding sup,—shall rest the soul +Of the great Harry, he who, by the world +Augustas hail’d, to Italy must come, +Before her day be ripe. But ye are sick, +And in your tetchy wantonness as blind, +As is the bantling, that of hunger dies, +And drives away the nurse. Nor may it be, +That he, who in the sacred forum sways, +Openly or in secret, shall with him +Accordant walk: Whom God will not endure +I’ th’ holy office long; but thrust him down +To Simon Magus, where Magna’s priest +Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +In fashion, as a snow-white rose, lay then +Before my view the saintly multitude, +Which in his own blood Christ espous’d. Meanwhile +That other host, that soar aloft to gaze +And celebrate his glory, whom they love, +Hover’d around; and, like a troop of bees, +Amid the vernal sweets alighting now, +Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows, +Flew downward to the mighty flow’r, or rose +From the redundant petals, streaming back +Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy. +Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold; +The rest was whiter than the driven snow. +And as they flitted down into the flower, +From range to range, fanning their plumy loins, +Whisper’d the peace and ardour, which they won +From that soft winnowing. Shadow none, the vast +Interposition of such numerous flight +Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view +Obstructed aught. For, through the universe, +Wherever merited, celestial light +Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents. + +All there, who reign in safety and in bliss, +Ages long past or new, on one sole mark +Their love and vision fix’d. O trinal beam +Of individual star, that charmst them thus, +Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below! + +If the grim brood, from Arctic shores that roam’d, +(Where helice, forever, as she wheels, +Sparkles a mother’s fondness on her son) +Stood in mute wonder ’mid the works of Rome, +When to their view the Lateran arose +In greatness more than earthly; I, who then +From human to divine had past, from time +Unto eternity, and out of Florence +To justice and to truth, how might I choose +But marvel too? ’Twixt gladness and amaze, +In sooth no will had I to utter aught, +Or hear. And, as a pilgrim, when he rests +Within the temple of his vow, looks round +In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell +Of all its goodly state: e’en so mine eyes +Cours’d up and down along the living light, +Now low, and now aloft, and now around, +Visiting every step. Looks I beheld, +Where charity in soft persuasion sat, +Smiles from within and radiance from above, +And in each gesture grace and honour high. + +So rov’d my ken, and its general form +All Paradise survey’d: when round I turn’d +With purpose of my lady to inquire +Once more of things, that held my thought suspense, +But answer found from other than I ween’d; +For, Beatrice, when I thought to see, +I saw instead a senior, at my side, + Rob’d, as the rest, in glory. Joy benign +Glow’d in his eye, and o’er his cheek diffus’d, +With gestures such as spake a father’s love. +And, “Whither is she vanish’d?” straight I ask’d. + +“By Beatrice summon’d,” he replied, +“I come to aid thy wish. Looking aloft +To the third circle from the highest, there +Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit +Hath plac’d her.” Answering not, mine eyes I rais’d, +And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow +A wreath reflecting of eternal beams. +Not from the centre of the sea so far +Unto the region of the highest thunder, +As was my ken from hers; and yet the form +Came through that medium down, unmix’d and pure, + +“O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest! +Who, for my safety, hast not scorn’d, in hell +To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark’d! +For all mine eyes have seen, I, to thy power +And goodness, virtue owe and grace. Of slave, +Thou hast to freedom brought me; and no means, +For my deliverance apt, hast left untried. +Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep. +That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole, +Is loosen’d from this body, it may find +Favour with thee.” So I my suit preferr’d: +And she, so distant, as appear’d, look’d down, +And smil’d; then tow’rds th’ eternal fountain turn’d. + +And thus the senior, holy and rever’d: +“That thou at length mayst happily conclude +Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatch’d, +By supplication mov’d and holy love) +Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large, +This garden through: for so, by ray divine +Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount; +And from heav’n’s queen, whom fervent I adore, +All gracious aid befriend us; for that I +Am her own faithful Bernard.” Like a wight, +Who haply from Croatia wends to see +Our Veronica, and the while ’tis shown, +Hangs over it with never-sated gaze, +And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith +Unto himself in thought: “And didst thou look +E’en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God? +And was this semblance thine?” So gaz’d I then +Adoring; for the charity of him, +Who musing, in the world that peace enjoy’d, +Stood lively before me. “Child of grace!” +Thus he began: “thou shalt not knowledge gain +Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held +Still in this depth below. But search around +The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy +Seated in state, the queen, that of this realm +Is sovran.” Straight mine eyes I rais’d; and bright, +As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime +Above th’ horizon, where the sun declines; +To mine eyes, that upward, as from vale +To mountain sped, at th’ extreme bound, a part +Excell’d in lustre all the front oppos’d. +And as the glow burns ruddiest o’er the wave, +That waits the sloping beam, which Phaeton +Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light +Diminish’d fades, intensest in the midst; +So burn’d the peaceful oriflamb, and slack’d +On every side the living flame decay’d. +And in that midst their sportive pennons wav’d +Thousands of angels; in resplendence each +Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee +And carol, smil’d the Lovely One of heav’n, +That joy was in the eyes of all the blest. + +Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich, +As is the colouring in fancy’s loom, +’Twere all too poor to utter the least part +Of that enchantment. When he saw mine eyes +Intent on her, that charm’d him, Bernard gaz’d +With so exceeding fondness, as infus’d +Ardour into my breast, unfelt before. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high, +Assum’d the teacher’s part, and mild began: +“The wound, that Mary clos’d, she open’d first, +Who sits so beautiful at Mary’s feet. +The third in order, underneath her, lo! +Rachel with Beatrice. Sarah next, +Judith, Rebecca, and the gleaner maid, +Meek ancestress of him, who sang the songs +Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood. +All, as I name them, down from deaf to leaf, +Are in gradation throned on the rose. +And from the seventh step, successively, +Adown the breathing tresses of the flow’r +Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed. +For these are a partition wall, whereby +The sacred stairs are sever’d, as the faith +In Christ divides them. On this part, where blooms +Each leaf in full maturity, are set +Such as in Christ, or ere he came, believ’d. +On th’ other, where an intersected space +Yet shows the semicircle void, abide +All they, who look’d to Christ already come. +And as our Lady on her glorious stool, +And they who on their stools beneath her sit, +This way distinction make: e’en so on his, +The mighty Baptist that way marks the line +(He who endur’d the desert and the pains +Of martyrdom, and for two years of hell, +Yet still continued holy), and beneath, +Augustin, Francis, Benedict, and the rest, +Thus far from round to round. So heav’n’s decree +Forecasts, this garden equally to fill. +With faith in either view, past or to come, +Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves +Midway the twain compartments, none there are +Who place obtain for merit of their own, +But have through others’ merit been advanc’d, +On set conditions: spirits all releas’d, +Ere for themselves they had the power to choose. +And, if thou mark and listen to them well, +Their childish looks and voice declare as much. + +“Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt; +And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein +Thy subtle thoughts have bound thee. From this realm +Excluded, chalice no entrance here may find, +No more shall hunger, thirst, or sorrow can. +A law immutable hath establish’d all; +Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit, +Exactly, as the finger to the ring. +It is not therefore without cause, that these, +O’erspeedy comers to immortal life, +Are different in their shares of excellence. +Our Sovran Lord—that settleth this estate +In love and in delight so absolute, +That wish can dare no further—every soul, +Created in his joyous sight to dwell, +With grace at pleasure variously endows. +And for a proof th’ effect may well suffice. +And ’tis moreover most expressly mark’d +In holy scripture, where the twins are said +To, have struggled in the womb. Therefore, as grace +Inweaves the coronet, so every brow +Weareth its proper hue of orient light. +And merely in respect to his prime gift, +Not in reward of meritorious deed, +Hath each his several degree assign’d. +In early times with their own innocence +More was not wanting, than the parents’ faith, +To save them: those first ages past, behoov’d +That circumcision in the males should imp +The flight of innocent wings: but since the day +Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites +In Christ accomplish’d, innocence herself +Must linger yet below. Now raise thy view +Unto the visage most resembling Christ: +For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win +The pow’r to look on him.” Forthwith I saw +Such floods of gladness on her visage shower’d, +From holy spirits, winging that profound; +That, whatsoever I had yet beheld, +Had not so much suspended me with wonder, +Or shown me such similitude of God. +And he, who had to her descended, once, +On earth, now hail’d in heav’n; and on pois’d wing. +“Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena,” sang: +To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court, +From all parts answ’ring, rang: that holier joy +Brooded the deep serene. “Father rever’d: +Who deign’st, for me, to quit the pleasant place, +Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot! +Say, who that angel is, that with such glee +Beholds our queen, and so enamour’d glows +Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems.” +So I again resorted to the lore +Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary’s charms +Embellish’d, as the sun the morning star; +Who thus in answer spake: “In him are summ’d, +Whatever of buxomness and free delight +May be in Spirit, or in angel, met: +And so beseems: for that he bare the palm +Down unto Mary, when the Son of God +Vouchsaf’d to clothe him in terrestrial weeds. +Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words, +And note thou of this just and pious realm +The chiefest nobles. Those, highest in bliss, +The twain, on each hand next our empress thron’d, +Are as it were two roots unto this rose. +He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste +Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right, +That ancient father of the holy church, +Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys +Of this sweet flow’r: near whom behold the seer, +That, ere he died, saw all the grievous times +Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails +Was won. And, near unto the other, rests +The leader, under whom on manna fed +Th’ ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse. +On th’ other part, facing to Peter, lo! +Where Anna sits, so well content to look +On her lov’d daughter, that with moveless eye +She chants the loud hosanna: while, oppos’d +To the first father of your mortal kind, +Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped, +When on the edge of ruin clos’d thine eye. + +“But (for the vision hasteneth so an end) +Here break we off, as the good workman doth, +That shapes the cloak according to the cloth: +And to the primal love our ken shall rise; +That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far +As sight can bear thee. Yet, alas! in sooth +Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance, +Thou backward fall’st. Grace then must first be gain’d; +Her grace, whose might can help thee. Thou in prayer +Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue, +Attend, and yield me all thy heart.” He said, +And thus the saintly orison began. + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +“O virgin mother, daughter of thy Son, +Created beings all in lowliness +Surpassing, as in height, above them all, +Term by th’ eternal counsel pre-ordain’d, +Ennobler of thy nature, so advanc’d +In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn, +Himself, in his own work enclos’d to dwell! +For in thy womb rekindling shone the love +Reveal’d, whose genial influence makes now +This flower to germin in eternal peace! +Here thou to us, of charity and love, +Art, as the noon-day torch: and art, beneath, +To mortal men, of hope a living spring. +So mighty art thou, lady! and so great, +That he who grace desireth, and comes not +To thee for aidance, fain would have desire +Fly without wings. Nor only him who asks, +Thy bounty succours, but doth freely oft +Forerun the asking. Whatsoe’er may be +Of excellence in creature, pity mild, +Relenting mercy, large munificence, +Are all combin’d in thee. Here kneeleth one, +Who of all spirits hath review’d the state, +From the world’s lowest gap unto this height. +Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace +For virtue, yet more high to lift his ken +Toward the bliss supreme. And I, who ne’er +Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself, +Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer, +(And pray they be not scant) that thou wouldst drive +Each cloud of his mortality away; +That on the sovran pleasure he may gaze. +This also I entreat of thee, O queen! +Who canst do what thou wilt! that in him thou +Wouldst after all he hath beheld, preserve +Affection sound, and human passions quell. +Lo! Where, with Beatrice, many a saint +Stretch their clasp’d hands, in furtherance of my suit!” + +The eyes, that heav’n with love and awe regards, +Fix’d on the suitor, witness’d, how benign +She looks on pious pray’rs: then fasten’d they +On th’ everlasting light, wherein no eye +Of creature, as may well be thought, so far +Can travel inward. I, meanwhile, who drew +Near to the limit, where all wishes end, +The ardour of my wish (for so behooved), +Ended within me. Beck’ning smil’d the sage, +That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade, +Already of myself aloft I look’d; +For visual strength, refining more and more, +Bare me into the ray authentical +Of sovran light. Thenceforward, what I saw, +Was not for words to speak, nor memory’s self +To stand against such outrage on her skill. +As one, who from a dream awaken’d, straight, +All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains +Impression of the feeling in his dream; +E’en such am I: for all the vision dies, +As ’twere, away; and yet the sense of sweet, +That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart. +Thus in the sun-thaw is the snow unseal’d; +Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost +The Sybil’s sentence. O eternal beam! +(Whose height what reach of mortal thought may soar?) +Yield me again some little particle +Of what thou then appearedst, give my tongue +Power, but to leave one sparkle of thy glory, +Unto the race to come, that shall not lose +Thy triumph wholly, if thou waken aught +Of memory in me, and endure to hear +The record sound in this unequal strain. + +Such keenness from the living ray I met, +That, if mine eyes had turn’d away, methinks, +I had been lost; but, so embolden’d, on +I pass’d, as I remember, till my view +Hover’d the brink of dread infinitude. + +O grace! unenvying of thy boon! that gav’st +Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken +On th’ everlasting splendour, that I look’d, +While sight was unconsum’d, and, in that depth, +Saw in one volume clasp’d of love, whatever +The universe unfolds; all properties +Of substance and of accident, beheld, +Compounded, yet one individual light +The whole. And of such bond methinks I saw +The universal form: for that whenever +I do but speak of it, my soul dilates +Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak, +One moment seems a longer lethargy, +Than five-and-twenty ages had appear’d +To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder +At Argo’s shadow darkening on his flood. + +With fixed heed, suspense and motionless, +Wond’ring I gaz’d; and admiration still +Was kindled, as I gaz’d. It may not be, +That one, who looks upon that light, can turn +To other object, willingly, his view. +For all the good, that will may covet, there +Is summ’d; and all, elsewhere defective found, +Complete. My tongue shall utter now, no more +E’en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe’s +That yet is moisten’d at his mother’s breast. +Not that the semblance of the living light +Was chang’d (that ever as at first remain’d) +But that my vision quickening, in that sole +Appearance, still new miracles descry’d, +And toil’d me with the change. In that abyss +Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem’d methought, +Three orbs of triple hue clipt in one bound: +And, from another, one reflected seem’d, +As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third +Seem’d fire, breath’d equally from both. Oh speech +How feeble and how faint art thou, to give +Conception birth! Yet this to what I saw +Is less than little. Oh eternal light! +Sole in thyself that dwellst; and of thyself +Sole understood, past, present, or to come! +Thou smiledst; on that circling, which in thee +Seem’d as reflected splendour, while I mus’d; +For I therein, methought, in its own hue +Beheld our image painted: steadfastly +I therefore por’d upon the view. As one +Who vers’d in geometric lore, would fain +Measure the circle; and, though pondering long +And deeply, that beginning, which he needs, +Finds not; e’en such was I, intent to scan +The novel wonder, and trace out the form, +How to the circle fitted, and therein +How plac’d: but the flight was not for my wing; +Had not a flash darted athwart my mind, +And in the spleen unfolded what it sought. + +Here vigour fail’d the tow’ring fantasy: +But yet the will roll’d onward, like a wheel +In even motion, by the Love impell’d, +That moves the sun in heav’n and all the stars. + + + + +NOTES TO PARADISE + +CANTO 1 + + +Verse 12. Benign Apollo.] Chaucer has imitated this invention very +closely at the beginning of the Third Booke of Fame. + +If, divine vertue, thou +Wilt helpe me to shewe now +That in my head ymarked is, + +* * * * * +Thou shalt see me go as blive +Unto the next laurer I see, +And kisse it for it is thy tree +Now entre thou my breast anone. + +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. + +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. + +Arbor vittoriosa e trionfale, +Onor d’imperadori e di poeti. + +And Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. 1. st. 9, +The laurel, meed of mighty conquerours +And poets sage. + +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.” + +v. 39. In happiest constellation.] Aries. Some understand the +planetVenus by the “miglior stella “ + +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. + +v. 47. As from the first a second beam.] “Like a reflected sunbeam,” +which he compares to a pilgrim hastening homewards. + +Ne simil tanto mal raggio secondo +Dal primo usci. +Filicaja, canz. 15. st. 4. + +v. 58. As iron that comes boiling from the fire.] So Milton, P. L. b. +iii. 594. —As glowing iron with fire. + +v. 69. Upon the day appear’d. + +—If the heaven had ywonne, +All new of God another sunne. +Chaucer, First Booke of Fame + +E par ch’ agginuga un altro sole al cielo. +Ariosto, O F. c. x. st. 109. + +Ed ecco un lustro lampeggiar d’ intorno +Che sole a sole aggiunse e giorno a giorno. +Manno, Adone. c. xi. st. 27. + +Quando a paro col sol ma piu lucente +L’angelo gli appari sull; oriente +Tasso, G. L. c. i. + +-Seems another morn +Ris’n on mid-noon. +Milton, P. L. b. v. 311. + +Compare Euripides, Ion. 1550. [GREEK HERE] 66. as Glaucus. ] Ovid, Met. +1. Xiii. Fab. 9 + +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.” + +v. 125. Through sluggishness.] Perch’ a risponder la materia e sorda. + +So Filicaja, canz. vi. st 9. +Perche a risponder la discordia e sorda + +“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. + +CANTO II + + +v. 1. In small bark.] + +Con la barchetta mia cantando in rima +Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xxviii. + +Io me n’andro con la barchetta mia, +Quanto l’acqua comporta un picciol legno +Ibid. + +v. 30. This first star.] the moon + +v. 46. E’en as the truth.] Like a truth that does not need +demonstration, but is self-evident.” + +v. 52. Cain.] Compare Hell, Canto XX. 123. And Note + +v. 65. Number1ess lights.] The fixed stars, which differ both in bulk +and splendor. + +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. + +But, as a late French translator of the Paradise well remarks, his +reasoning is physical; that of Dante partly metaphysical and partly +theologic. + +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. + +v. 143. The virtue mingled.] Virg. Aen. 1. vi 724. Principio coelum, +&c. + +CANTO III + + +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.” + +v. 50. Piccarda.] The sister of Forese whom we have seen in the +Purgatory, Canto XXIII. + +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. + +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 + +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.” + +CANTO IV + + +v. 6. Between two deer] + +Tigris ut auditis, diversa valle duorum +Extimulata fame, mugitibus armentorum +Neseit utro potius ruat, et ruere ardet utroque. +Ovid, Metam. 1. v. 166 + +v. 13. Daniel.] See Daniel, c. ii. + +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.” + +v. 27. Of that.] Plato’s opinion. + +v. 34. The first circle.] The empyrean. + +v. 48. Him who made Tobias whole.] + +Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign’d +To travel with Tobias, and secur’d +His marriage with the sev’n times wedded maid, +Milton, P. L. b. v. 223. + +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. + +v. 82. Laurence.] Who suffered martyrdom in the third century. + +v. 82. Scaevola.] See Liv. Hist. D. 1. 1. ii. 12. + +v. 100. Alcmaeon.] Ovid, Met. 1. ix. f. 10. + +—Ultusque parente parentem +Natus, erit facto pius et sceleratus eodem. + +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. + +CANTO V + + +v. 43. Two things.] The one, the substance of the vow; the other, the +compact, or form of it. + +v. 48. It was enjoin’d the Israelites.] See Lev. e. xii, and xxvii. + +v. 56. Either key.] Purgatory, Canto IX. 108. + +v. 86. That region.] As some explain it, the east, according to others +the equinoctial line. + +v. 124. This sphere.] The planet Mercury, which, being nearest to the +sun, is oftenest hidden by that luminary + +CANTO VI + + +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. + +v. 5. A hundred years twice told and more.] The Emperor Constantine +entered Byzantium in 324, and Justinian began his reign in 527. + +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. + +v. 13. To clear th’ incumber’d laws.] The code of laws was abridged and +reformed by Justinian. + +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. + +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. + +v. 33. Who pretend its power.] The Ghibellines. + +v. 33. And who oppose ] The Guelphs. + +v. 34. Pallas died.] See Virgil, Aen. 1. X. + +v. 39. The rival three.] The Horatii and Curiatii. + +v. 41. Down.] “From the rape of the Sabine women to the violation of +Lucretia.” v. 47. Quintius.] Quintius Cincinnatus. + +E Cincinnato dall’ inculta chioma. +Petrarca. + +v. 50. Arab hordes.] The Arabians seem to be put for the barbarians in +general. + +v. 54. That hill.] The city of Fesulae, which was sacked by the Romans +after the defeat of Cataline. + +v. 56. Near the hour.] Near the time of our Saviour’s birth. + +v. 59. What then it wrought.] In the following fifteen lines the Poet +has comprised the exploits of Julius Caesar. + +v. 75. In its next bearer’s gripe.] With Augustus Caesar. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 104. The yellow lilies.] The French ensign. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO VII + + +v. 3. Malahoth.] A Hebrew word, signifying “kingdoms.” + +v. 4. That substance bright.] Justinian. + +v. 17. As might have made one blest amid the flames.] So Giusto de’ +Conti, Bella Mano. “Qual salamandra.” + +Che puommi nelle fiammi far beato. + +v. 23. That man who was unborn.] Adam. + +v. 61. What distils.] “That which proceeds immediately from God, and +without intervention of secondary causes, in immortal.” + +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. + +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— + +And dost thou ask, what themes my mind engage? +The lonely hours I give to Dante’s page; +And meet more sacred learning in his lines +Than I had gain’d from all the school divines. + +Se volete saper la vita mia, +Studiando io sto lungi da tutti gli nomini +Ed ho irnparato piu teologia +In questi giorni, che ho riletto Dante, +Che nelle scuole fattto io non avria. + +CANTO VIII + + +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.” + +v. 11. To sit in Dido’s bosom.] Virgil. Aen. 1. i. 718, + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 60. The left bank.] Provence. + +v. 62. That horn Of fair Ausonia.] The kingdom of Naples. + +v. 68. The land.] Hungary. + +v. 73. The beautiful Trinaeria.] Sicily, so called from its three +promontories, of which Pachynus and Pelorus, here mentioned, are two. + +v. 14 Typhaeus.] The giant whom Jupiter is fabled to have overwhelmed +under the mountain Aetna from whence he vomits forth smoke and flame. + +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. + +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 + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +v. 136. Esau.] Genesis c. xxv. 22. + +v. 137. Quirinus.] Romulus, born of so obscure a father, that his +parentage was attributed to Mars. + +CANTO IX + + +v. 2. O fair Clemenza.] Daughter of Charles Martel, and second wife of +Louis X. of France. + +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. + +v. 7. That saintly light.] Charles Martel. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 50. The web.] The net or snare into, which he is destined to fall. + +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. + +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. + +v. 56 This priest.] The bishop, who, to show himself a zealous partisan +of the Pope, had committed the above-mentioned act of treachery. + +v. 58. We descry.] “We behold the things that we predict, in the +mirrors of eternal truth.” + +v. 64. That other joyance.] Folco. + +v. 76. Six shadowing wings.] “Above it stood the seraphims: each one +had six wings.” Isaiah, c. vi. 2. + +v. 80. The valley of waters.] The Mediterranean sea. + +v. 80. That.] The great ocean. + +v. 82. Discordant shores.] Europe and Africa. + +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.” + +v. 85. —’Twixt Ebro’s stream +And Macra’s.] +Eora, a river to the west, and Macra, to the east of Genoa, where +Folco was born. + +v. 88. Begga.] A place in Africa, nearly opposite to Genoa. + +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. + +v. 91. This heav’n.] The planet Venus. + +v. 93. Belus’ daughter.] Dido. + +v. 96. She of Rhodope.] Phyllis. + +v. 98. Jove’s son.] Hercules. + +v. 112. Rahab.] Heb. c. xi. 31. + +v. 120. With either palm.] “By the crucifixion of Christ” + +v. 126. The cursed flower.] The coin of Florence, called the florin. + +v. 130. The decretals.] The canon law. + +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. + +CANTO X + + +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.” + +v. 11. Oblique.] The zodiac. + +v. 25. The part.] The above-mentioned intersection of the equinoctial +circle and the zodiac. + +v. 26. Minister.] The sun. + +v. 30. Where.] In which the sun rises every day earlier after the +vernal equinox. + +v. 45. Fourth family.] The inhabitants of the sun, the fourth planet. + +v. 46. Of his spirit and of his offspring.] The procession of the +third, and the generation of the second person in the Trinity. + +v. 70. Such was the song.] “The song of these spirits was ineffable. + +v. 86. No less constrained.] “The rivers might as easily cease to flow +towards the sea, as we could deny thee thy request.” + +v. 91. I then.] “I was of the Dominican order.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 101. To either forum.] “By reconciling,” as Venturi explains it “the +civil with the canon law.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 124. Cieldauro.] Boetius was buried at Pavia, in the monastery of +St. Pietro in Ciel d’oro. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 131. The straw-litter’d street.] The name of a street in Paris: the +“Rue du Fouarre.” + +v. 136. The spouse of God.] The church. + +CANTO XI + + +v. 1. O fond anxiety of mortal men.] Lucretius, 1. ii. 14 + +O miseras hominum mentes ! O pectora caeca +Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantisque periclis +Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est! + +v. 4. Aphorisms,] The study of medicine. + +v. 17. The lustre.] The spirit of Thomas Aquinas + +v. 29. She.] The church. + +v. 34. One.] Saint Francis. + +v. 36. The other.] Saint Dominic. + +v. 40. Tupino.] A rivulet near Assisi, or Ascesi where Francis was born +in 1182. + +v. 40. The wave.] Chiascio, a stream that rises in a mountain near +Agobbio, chosen by St. Ubaldo for the place of his retirement. + +v. 42. Heat and cold.] Cold from the snow, and heat from the reflection +of the sun. + +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. + +v. 50. The east.] + +This is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Shakespeare. + +v. 55. Gainst his father’s will.] In opposition to the wishes of his +natural father + +v. 58. In his father’s sight.] The spiritual father, or bishop, in +whose presence he made a profession of poverty. + +v. 60. Her first husband.] Christ. + +v. 63. Amyclas.] Lucan makes Caesar exclaim, on witnessing the secure +poverty of the fisherman Amyclas: + +—O vite tuta facultas +Pauperis, angustique lares! O munera nondum +Intellecta deum! quibus hoc contingere templis, +Aut potuit muris, nullo trepidare tumultu, +Caesarea pulsante manu? +Lucan Phars. 1. v. 531. + +v. 72. Bernard.] One of the first followers of the saint. + +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. + +v. 76. Sylvester.] Another of his earliest associates. + +v. 83. Pietro Bernardone.] A man in an humble station of life at +Assisi. + +v. 86. Innocent.] Pope Innocent III. + +v. 90. Honorius.] His successor Honorius III who granted certain +privileges to the Franciscans. + +v. 93. On the hard rock.] The mountain Alverna in the Apennine. + +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. + +v. 106. His dearest lady.] Poverty. + +v. 113. Our Patriarch ] Saint Dominic. + +v. 316. His flock ] The Dominicans. + +v. 127. The planet from whence they split.] “The rule of their order, +which the Dominicans neglect to observe.” + +CANTO XII + + +v. 1. The blessed flame.] Thomas Aquinas + +v. 12. That voice.] The nymph Echo, transformed into the repercussion +of the voice. + +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. + +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. + +v. 42. In that clime.] Spain. + +v. 48. Callaroga.] Between Osma and Aranda, in Old Castile, designated +by the royal coat of arms. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 73. Felix.] Felix Gusman. + +v. 75. As men interpret it.] Grace or gift of the Lord. + +v. 77. Ostiense.] A cardinal, who explained the decretals. + +v. 77. Taddeo.] A physician, of Florence. + +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.” + +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. + +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.” + +v. 101. But the track.] “But the rule of St. Francis is already +deserted and the lees of the wine are turned into mouldiness.” + +v. 110. Tares.] He adverts to the parable of the taxes and the wheat. + +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. + +v. 121. -Illuminato here, And Agostino.] Two among the earliest +followers of St. Francis. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 128. Chrysostom.] The eloquent patriarch of Constantinople. + +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. + +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.” + +v. 129. Donatus.] Aelius Donatus, the grammarian, in the fourth +century, one of the preceptors of St. Jerome. + +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. + +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. + +v. 134. A peer.] St. Dominic. + +CANTO XIII + + +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.” + +v. 21. The Chiava.] See Hell, Canto XXIX. 45. + +v. 29. That luminary.] Thomas Aquinas. + +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” + +v. 48. That.] “Things corruptible and incorruptible, are only +emanations from the archetypal idea residing in the Divine mind.” + +v. 52. His brightness.] The Word: the Son of God. + +v. 53. His love triune with them.] The Holy Ghost. + +v. 55. New existences.] Angels and human souls. + +v. 57. The lowest powers.] Irrational life and brute matter. + +v. 62. Their wax and that which moulds it.] Matter, and the virtue or +energy that acts on it. + +v. 68. The heav’n.] The influence of the planetary bodies. + +v. 77. The clay.] Adam. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 123. Sabellius, Arius.] Well-known heretics. + +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. + +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.” + +CANTO XIV + + +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. + +v. 26. Him.] Literally translated by Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide. + +Thou one two, and three eterne on live +That raignest aie in three, two and one +Uncircumscript, and all maist circonscrive, + +v. 81. The goodliest light.] Solomon. + +v. 78. To more lofty bliss.] To the planet Mars. + +v. 94. The venerable sign.] The cross. + +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.” + +CANTO XV + + +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. + +v. 89. The mountain.] Purgatory. + +v. 92. Florence.] See G. Villani, l. iii. c. 2. + +v. 93. Which calls her still.] The public clock being still within the +circuit of the ancient walls. + +v. 98. When.] When the women were not married at too early an age, and +did not expect too large a portion. + +v. 101. Void.] Through the civil wars. + +v. 102 Sardanapalus.] The luxurious monarch of Assyria Juvenal is here +imitated, who uses his name for an instance of effeminacy. Sat. + +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. + +v. 101. Our suburban turret.] Uccellatojo, near Florence, from whence +that city was discovered. + +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. + +v. 110. Of Nerli and of Vecchio.] Two of the most opulent families in +Florence. + +v. 113. Each.] “None fearful either of dying in banishment, or of being +deserted by her husband on a scheme of battle in France. + +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. + +v. 125. Mary.] The Virgin was involved in the pains of child-birth +Purgatory, Canto XX. 21. + +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. + +v. 131. Conrad.] The Emperor Conrad III who died in 1152. See G. +Villani, 1. iv. 34. + +v. 136. Whose people.] The Mahometans, who were left in possession of +the Holy Land, through the supineness of the Pope. + +CANTO XVI + + +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. + +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. + +v. 23. The fold.] Florence, of which John the Baptist was the patron +saint. + +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. + +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. + +v. 44. From Mars.] “Both in the times of heathenish and of +Christianity.” Hell, Canto XIII. 144. + +v. 48. Campi and Certaldo and Fighine.] Country places near Florence. + +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.” + +v. 54. Aguglione’s hind and Signa’s.] Baldo of Aguglione, and Bonifazio +of Signa. + +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. + +v. 61. Simifonte.] A castle dismantled by the Florentines. G. Villani, +1. v. c. 30. The individual here alluded to is no longer known. + +v. 69. The blind bull.] So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide. b. 2. + +For swifter course cometh thing that is of wight +When it descendeth than done things light. + +Compare Aristotle, Ethic. Nic. l. vi. c. 13. [GREEK HERE] + +v. 72. Luni, Urbisaglia.] Cities formerly of importance, but then +fallen to decay. + +v. 74. Chiusi and Sinigaglia.] The same. + +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. + +v. 86. The Ughi.] Whoever is curious to know the habitations of these +and the other ancient Florentines, may consult G. Villani, l. iv. + +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. + +v. 99. The gilded hilt and pommel.] The symbols of knighthood + +v. 100. The column cloth’d with verrey.] The arms of the Pigli. + +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 + +v. 109. The bullets of bright gold.] The arms of the Abbati, as it is +conjectured. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 132. -Gualterotti dwelt And Importuni.] Two families in the +compartment of the city called Borgo. + +v. 135. The house.] Of Amidei. See Notes to Canto XXVIII. of Hell. v. +102. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +CANTO XVII + + +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. + +v. 6. That saintly lamp.] Cacciaguida. + +v. 12. To own thy thirst.] “That thou mayst obtain from others a +solution of any doubt that may occur to thee.” + +v. 15. Thou seest as clear.] “Thou beholdest future events, with the +same clearness of evidence, that we discern the simplest mathematical +demonstrations.” + +v. 19. The point.] The divine nature. + +v. 27. The arrow.] Nam praevisa minus laedere tela solent. Ovid. + +Che piaga antiveduta assai men duole. +Petrarca, Trionfo del Tempo + +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.” + +v. 43. From thence.] “From the eternal sight; the view of the Deity. + +v. 49. There.] At Rome, where the expulsion of Dante’s party from +Florence was then plotting, in 1300. + +v. 65. Theirs.] “They shall be ashamed of the part they have taken +aga’nst thee.” + +v. 69. The great Lombard.] Either Alberto della Scala, or Bartolommeo +his eldest son. Their coat of arms was a ladder and an eagle. + +v. 75. That mortal.] Can Grande della Scala, born under the influence +of Mars, but at this time only nine years old + +v. 80. The Gascon.] Pope Clement V. + +v. 80. Great Harry.] The Emperor Henry VII. + +v. 127. The cry thou raisest.] “Thou shalt stigmatize the faults of +those who are most eminent and powerful.” + +CANTO XVIII + + +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. + +v. 26. On this fifth lodgment of the tree.] Mars, the fifth ot the @ + +v. 37. The great Maccabee.] Judas Maccabeus. + +v. 39. Charlemagne.] L. Pulci commends Dante for placing +Charlemagne and Orlando here: +Io mi confido ancor molto qui a Dante +Che non sanza cagion nel ciel su misse +Carlo ed Orlando in quelle croci sante, +Che come diligente intese e scrisse. +Morg. Magg. c. 28. + +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. + +v. 43. Duke Godfey.] Godfrey of Bouillon. + +v. 46. Robert Guiscard.] See Hell, Canto XXVIII. v. 12. + +v. 81. The characters.] Diligite justitiam qui judicatis terrarm. “Love +righteousness, ye that be judges of the earth “ Wisdom of Solomon, c. +i. 1. + +v. 116. That once more.] “That he may again drive out those who buy and +sell in the temple.” + +v. 124. Taking the bread away.] “Excommunication, or the interdiction +of the Eucharist, is now employed as a weapon of warfare.” + +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.” + +v. 130. To him.] The coin of Florence was stamped with the impression +of John the Baptist. + +CANTO XIX + + +v. 38. Who turn’d his compass.] Compare Proverbs, c. viii. 27. And +Milton, P. L. b. vii 224. + +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.” + +v. 108. The Ethiop.] Matt. c. xii. 41. + +v. 112. That volume.] Rev. c. xx. 12. + +v. 114. Albert.] Purgatory, Canto VI. v. 98. + +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 + +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 + +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. + +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. + +v. 123. The Bohemian.] Winceslaus II. Purgatory, Canto VII. v. + +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. + +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. + +v. 133. His uncle.] James, king of Majorca and Minorca, brother to +Peter III. + +v. 133. His brother.] James II of Arragon, who died in 1327. See +Purgatory, Canto VII. v. 117. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +4to edit. + +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. + +v. 141. Mountainous girdle.] The Pyrenees. + +v. 143. -Famagosta’s streets And Nicosia’s.] + +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. + +CANTO XX + + +v. 6. Wherein one shines.] The light of the sun, whence he supposes the +other celestial bodies to derive their light + +v. 8. The great sign.] The eagle, the Imperial ensign. + +v. 34. Who.] David. + +v. 39. He.] Trajan. See Purgatory, Canto X. 68. + +v. 44. He next.] Hezekiah. + +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. + +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. + +v. 62. Trojan Ripheus.] +Ripheus, justissimus unus +Qui fuit in Teneris, et servantissimus aequi. +Virg. Aen. 1. ii. 4—. + +v. 97. This.] Ripheus. + +v. 98. That.] Trajan. + +v. 103. The prayers,] The prayers of St. Gregory + +v. 119. The three nymphs.] Faith, Hope, and Charity. Purgatory, Canto +XXIX. 116. v. 138. The pair.] Ripheus and Trajan. + +CANTO XXI + + +v. 12. The seventh splendour.] The planet Saturn + +v. 13. The burning lion’s breast.] The constellation Leo. + +v. 21. In equal balance.] “My pleasure was as great in complying with +her will as in beholding her countenance.” + +v. 24. Of that lov’d monarch.] Saturn. Compare Hell, Canto XIV. 91. + +v. 56. What forbade the smile.] “Because it would have overcome thee.” + +v. 61. There aloft.] Where the other souls were. + +v. 97. A stony ridge.] The Apennine. + +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. + +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. + +v. 117. The hat.] The cardinal’s hat. + +v. 118. Cephas.] St. Peter. + +v. 119 The Holy Spirit’s vessel.] St. Paul. See Hell, Canto II. 30. + +v. 130. Round this.] Round the spirit of Pietro Damiano. + +CANTO XXII + + +v. 14. The vengeance.] Beatrice, it is supposed, intimates the +approaching fate of Boniface VIII. See Purgatory, Canto XX. 86. + +v. 36. Cassino.] A castle in the Terra di Lavoro. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 70. The patriarch Jacob.] So Milton, P. L. b. iii. 510: +The stairs were such, as whereon Jacob saw +Angels ascending and descending, bands +Of guardians bright. + +v. 107. The sign.] The constellation of Gemini. + +v. 130. This globe.] So Chaucer, Troilus and Cresseide, b. v, + +And down from thence fast he gan avise +This little spot of earth, that with the sea +Embraced is, and fully gan despite +This wretched world. + +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. + +v. 140. Maia and Dione.] The planets Mercury and Venus. + +CANTO XXIII + + +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. + +v. 26. Trivia.] A name of Diana. + +v. 26. Th’ eternal nymphs.] The stars. + +v. 36. The Might.] Our Saviour + +v. 71. The rose.] The Virgin Mary. + +v. 73. The lilies.] The apostles. + +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. + +v. 86. The name of that fair flower.] The name of the Virgin. + +v. 92. A cresset.] The angel Gabriel. + +v. 98. That lyre.] By synecdoche, the lyre is put for the angel + +v. 99. The goodliest sapphire.] The Virgin + +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. + +v. 129. In the Babylonian exile.] During their abode in this world. + +v. 133. He.] St. Peter, with the other holy men of the Old and New +testament. + +CANTO XXIV + + +v. 28. Such folds.] Pindar has the same bold image: [GREEK HERE?] On +which Hayne strangely remarks: Ad ambitus stropharum vldetur + +v. 65. Faith.] Hebrews, c. xi. 1. So Marino, in one of his sonnets, +which calls Divozioni: + +Fede e sustanza di sperate cose, +E delle non visioili argomento. + +v. 82. Current.] “The answer thou hast made is right; but let me know +if thy inward persuasion is conformable to thy profession.” + +v. 91. The ancient bond and new.] The Old and New Testament. + +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. + +CANTO XXV + + +v. 6. The fair sheep-fold.] Florence, whence he was banished. + +v. 13. For its sake.] For the sake of that faith. + +v. 20. Galicia throng’d with visitants.] See Mariana, Hist. 1. xi. + +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.” + +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. + +v. 35. As Jesus.] In the transfiguration on Mount Tabor. + +v. 39. The second flame.] St. James. + +v. 40. I lifted up.] “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from +whence cometh my help.” Ps. Cxxi. 1. + +v. 59. From Egypt to Jerusalem.] From the lower world to heaven. + +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. + +v. 74. His anthem.] Psalm ix. 10. + +v. 90. Isaias ] Chap. lxi. 10. + +v. 94. Thy brother.] St. John in the Revelation, c. vii. 9. + +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.” + +v. 112. This.] St. John, who reclined on the bosom of our Saviour, and +to whose charge Jesus recommended his mother. + +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.” + +v. 127. The two.] Christ and Mary, whom he has described, in the last +Canto but one, as rising above his sight + +CANTO XXVI + + +v. 2. The beamy flame.] St. John. + +v. 13. Ananias’ hand.] Who, by putting his hand on St. Paul, restored +his sight. Acts, c. ix. 17. + +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. + +v. 40. I will make.] Exodus, c. xxxiii. 19. + +v. 42. At the outset.] John, c. i. 1. &c. + +v. 51. The eagle of our Lord.] St. John + +v. 62. The leaves.] Created beings. + +v. 82. The first living soul.] Adam. + +v. 107. Parhelion.] Who enlightens and comprehends all things; but is +himself enlightened and comprehended by none. + +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. + +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.” + +v. 135. Use.] From Horace, Ars. Poet. 62. + +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. + +CANTO XXVII + + +v. 1. Four torches.] St. Peter, St. James, St. John, and Adam. + +v. 11. That.] St. Peter’ who looked as the planet Jupiter would, if it +assumed the sanguine appearance of liars. + +v. 20. He.] Boniface VIII. + +v. 26. such colour.] +Qui color infectis adversi solis ab ietu +Nubibus esse solet; aut purpureae Aurorae. +Ovid, Met. 1. iii. 184. + +v. 37. Of Linus and of Cletus.] Bishops of Rome in the first century. + +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.” + +v. 51. Wolves.] Compare Milton, P. L. b. xii. 508, &c. + +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. + +v. 63. The she-goat.] When the sun is in Capricorn. + +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. + +v. 76. From Gades.] See Hell, Canto XXVI. 106 + +v. 78. The shore.] Phoenicia, where Europa, the daughter of Agenor +mounted on the back of Jupiter, in his shape of a bull. + +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. + +v. 93. The fair nest of Leda.] “From the Gemini;” thus called, because +Leda was the mother of the twins, Castor and Pollux + +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. + +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.” + +v. 129. None.] Because, as has been before said, the shepherds are +become wolves. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO XXVIII + + +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.” + +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. + +In orbs +Of circuit inexpressible they stood, +Orb within orb +Milton, P. L. b. v. 596. + +v. 70. The sturdy north.] Compare Homer, II. b. v. 524. + +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. + +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. + +v. 110. Dominations.] +Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, +Thrones, domination’s, princedoms, virtues, powers. +Milton, P. L. b. v. 601. + +v. 119. Dionysius.] The Areopagite, in his book De Caelesti Hierarchia. + +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. + +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. + +CANTO XXIX + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 51. Pent.] See Hell, Canto XXXIV. 105. + +v. 111. Of Bindi and of Lapi.] Common names of men at Florence + +v. 112. The sheep.] So Milton, Lycidas. +The hungry sheep look up and are not fed, +But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, +Rot inwardly. + +v. 121. The preacher.] Thus Cowper, Task, b. ii. + +’Tis pitiful +To court a grin, when you should woo a soul, &c. + +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. + +v. 140. Daniel.] “Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten +thousand times ten thousand stood before him.” Dan. c. vii. 10. + +CANTO XXX + + +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. + +v. 13. Engirt.] “ ppearing to be encompassed by these angelic bands, +which are in reality encompassed by it.” + +v. 18. This turn.] Questa vice. Hence perhaps Milton, P. L. b. viii. +491. This turn hath made amends. + +v. 39. Forth.] From the ninth sphere to the empyrean, which is more +light. + +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. + +—underneath a bright sea flow’d Of jasper, or of liquid pearl. Milton, +P. L. b. iii. 518. + +v. 80. Shadowy of the truth.] +Son di lor vero ombriferi prefazii. +So Mr. Coleridge, in his Religious Musings, v. 406. +Life is a vision shadowy of truth. + +v. 88. —the eves Of mine eyelids.] Thus Shakespeare calls the eyelids +“penthouse lids.” Macbeth, a, 1. s, 3. + +v. 108. As some cliff.] +A lake +That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown’d +Her crystal mirror holds. +Milton, P. L. b. iv. 263. + +v. 118. My view with ease.] +Far and wide his eye commands +For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine. +Milton, P. l. b. iii. 616. + +v. 135. Of the great Harry.] The Emperor Henry VII, who died in 1313. + +v. 141. He.] Pope Clement V. See Canto XXVII. 53. + +v. 145. Alagna’s priest.] Pope Boniface VIII. Hell, Canto XIX. + +79. + +CANTO XXXI + + +v. 6. Bees.] Compare Homer, Iliad, ii. 87. Virg. Aen. I. 430, and +Milton, P. L. b. 1. 768. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +v. 95. Our Veronica ] The holy handkerchief, then preserved at Rome, on +which the countenance of our Saviour was supposed to have been imprest. + +v. 101. Him.] St. Bernard. + +v. 108. The queen.] The Virgin Mary. + +v. 119. Oriflamb.] Menage on this word quotes the Roman des +Royau +-Iignages of Guillaume Ghyart. +Oriflamme est une banniere +De cendal roujoyant et simple +Sans portraiture d’autre affaire, + +CANTO XXXII + + +v. 3. She.] Eve. + +v. 8. Ancestress.] Ruth, the ancestress of David. + +v. 60. In holy scripture.] Gen. c. xxv. 22. v. 123. Lucia.] See Hell, +Canto II. 97. + +CANTO XXXIII + + +v. 63. The Sybil’s sentence.] Virg. Aen. iii. 445. + +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. + +v. 92. Argo’s shadow] +Quae simul ac rostro ventosnm proscidit aequor, +Tortaque remigio spumis incanduit unda, +Emersere feri candenti e gurgite vultus +Aequoreae monstrum Nereides admirantes. +Catullus, De Nupt. Pel. et Thet. 15. + +v. 109. Three orbs of triple hue, clipt in one bound.] The Trinity. + +v. 118. That circling.] The second of the circles, “Light of Light,” in +which he dimly beheld the mystery of the incarnation. + +End Paradise. + +PREFACE + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +January, 1814 + +A CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW + +OF + +THE AGE OF DANTE + +A. D. + +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. + +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. + +Guido Novello of Polenta obtains the sovereignty of Ravenna. +H. C. XXVII. 38. + +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. + +1268. Charles of Anjou puts Conradine to death, and becomes King of +Naples. H. C. XXVIII. 16 and Purg C. XX. 66. + +1272. Henry III. of England is succeeded by Edward I. Purg. C. VII. +129. + +1274. Our Poet first sees Beatrice, daughter of Folco Portinari. + +Fra. +Guittone d’Arezzo, the poet, dies. Purg. C. XXIV. 56. +Thomas Aquinas dies. Purg. C. XX. 67. and Par. C. X. 96. +Buonaventura dies. Par. C. XII. 25. + +1275. Pierre de la Brosse, secretary to Philip III. of France, +executed. Purg. C. VI. 23. + +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. + +1277. Pope John XXI. dies. Par. C. XII. 126. + +1278. Ottocar, king of Bohemia, dies. Purg. C. VII. 97. + +1279. Dionysius succeeds to the throne of Portugal. Par. C. XIX. 135. + +1280. Albertus Magnus dies. Par. C. X. 95. + +1281. Pope Nicholas III. dies. H. C. XIX 71. Dante studies at the +universities of Bologna and Padua. + +1282. The Sicilian vespers. Par. C. VIII. 80. +The French defeated by the people of Forli. H. C. XXVII. 41. +Tribaldello de’ Manfredi betrays the city of Faenza. H. C. +XXXII. 119. + +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. + +1285. Pope Martin IV. dies. Purg. C. XXIV. 23. +Philip III. of France, and Peter III. of Arragon, die. Purg. C. +VII. 101 and +110. +Henry II. king of Cyprus, comes to the throne. Par. C. XIX. 144. + +1287. Guido dalle Colonne (mentioned by Dante in his De Vulgari +Eloquio) writes “The War of Troy.” + +1288. Haquin, king of Norway, makes war on Denmark. Par. C. XIX. 135. +Count Ugolino de’ Gherardeschi dies of famine. H. C. XXXIII. 14. + +1289. Dante is in the battle of Campaldino, where the Florentines +defeat the people of Arezzo, June 11. Purg. C. V. 90. + +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. + +1291. He marries Gemma de’ Donati, with whom he lives unhappily. + +By this marriage he had five sons and a daughter. +Can Grande della Scala is born, March 9. H. C. I. 98. Purg. C. +XX. 16. Par. C. XVII. 75. and XXVII. 135. +The renegade Christians assist the Saracens to recover St. John +D’Acre. H. C. XXVII. 84. +The Emperor Rodolph dies. Purg. C. VI. 104. and VII. 91. +Alonzo III. of Arragon dies, and is succeeded by James II. +Purg. C. VII. 113. and Par. C. XIX. 133. + +1294. Clement V. abdicates the papal chair. H. C. III. 56. Dante writes +his Vita Nuova. + +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. + +1296. Forese, the companion of Dante, dies. Purg. C. XXXIII. 44. + +1300. The Bianca and Nera parties take their rise in Pistoia. +H. C. XXXII. 60. +This is the year in which he supposes himself to see his Vision. +H. C. I. 1. and XXI. 109. +He is chosen chief magistrate, or first of the Priors of +Florence; and continues in office from June 15 to August 15. +Cimabue, the painter, dies. Purg. C. XI. 93. +Guido Cavalcanti, the most beloved of our Poet’s friends, dies. +H. C. X. 59. and Purg C. XI. 96. + +1301. The Bianca party expels the Nera from Pistoia. H. C. XXIV. 142. + +1302. January 27. During his absence at Rome, Dante is mulcted +by his fellow-citizens in the sum of 8000 lire, and condemned to +two years’ banishment. +March 10. He is sentenced, if taken, to be burned. +Fulcieri de’ Calboli commits great atrocities on certain of the +Ghibelline party. Purg. C. XIV. 61. +Carlino de’ Pazzi betrays the castle di Piano Travigne, in +Valdarno, to the Florentines. H. C. XXXII. 67. +The French vanquished in the battle of Courtrai. Purg. C. XX. 47. +James, king of Majorca and Minorca, dies. Par. C. XIX. 133. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +1306. Dante visits Padua. + +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. + +1308. The Emperor Albert I. murdered. Purg. C. VI. 98. and +Par. C. XIX. 114. +Corso Donati, Dante’s political enemy, slain. Purg. C. XXIV. 81. +He seeks an asylum at Verona, under the roof of the Signori della + +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. + +1309. Charles II. king of Naples, dies. Par. C. XIX. 125. + +1310. The Order of the Templars abolished. Purg. C. XX. 94. + +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. + +1314. Pope Clement V. dies. H. C. XIX. 86. and +Par. C. XXVII. 53. and XXX. 141. +Philip IV. of France dies. Purg. C. VII. 108. and Par. C. XIX. +117. +Ferdinand IV. of Spain, dies. Par. C. XIX. 122. +Giacopo da Carrara defeated by Can Grande. Par. C. IX. 45. + +1316. John XXII. elected Pope. Par. C. XXVII. 53. + +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. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1008 *** |