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diff --git a/1004-0.txt b/1004-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..974199c --- /dev/null +++ b/1004-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19999 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1004 *** + + The Divine Comedy + + of Dante Alighieri + + Translated by + HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + + + Contents + + INFERNO + Canto I. The Dark Forest. The Hill of Difficulty. The Panther, the + Lion, and the Wolf. Virgil. + Canto II. The Descent. Dante’s Protest and Virgil’s Appeal. The + Intercession of the Three Ladies Benedight. + Canto III. The Gate of Hell. The Inefficient or Indifferent. Pope + Celestine V. The Shores of Acheron. Charon. The Earthquake and the + Swoon. + Canto IV. The First Circle, Limbo: Virtuous Pagans and the + Unbaptized. The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. The + Noble Castle of Philosophy. + Canto V. The Second Circle: The Wanton. Minos. The Infernal + Hurricane. Francesca da Rimini. + Canto VI. The Third Circle: The Gluttonous. Cerberus. The Eternal + Rain. Ciacco. Florence. + Canto VII. The Fourth Circle: The Avaricious and the Prodigal. + Plutus. Fortune and her Wheel. The Fifth Circle: The Irascible and + the Sullen. Styx. + Canto VIII. Phlegyas. Philippo Argenti. The Gate of the City of + Dis. + Canto IX. The Furies and Medusa. The Angel. The City of Dis. The + Sixth Circle: Heresiarchs. + Canto X. Farinata and Cavalcante de’ Cavalcanti. Discourse on the + Knowledge of the Damned. + Canto XI. The Broken Rocks. Pope Anastasius. General Description of + the Inferno and its Divisions. + Canto XII. The Minotaur. The Seventh Circle: The Violent. The River + Phlegethon. The Violent against their Neighbours. The Centaurs. + Tyrants. + Canto XIII. The Wood of Thorns. The Harpies. The Violent against + themselves. Suicides. Pier della Vigna. Lano and Jacopo da Sant’ + Andrea. + Canto XIV. The Sand Waste and the Rain of Fire. The Violent against + God. Capaneus. The Statue of Time, and the Four Infernal Rivers. + Canto XV. The Violent against Nature. Brunetto Latini. + Canto XVI. Guidoguerra, Aldobrandi, and Rusticucci. Cataract of + the River of Blood. + Canto XVII. Geryon. The Violent against Art. Usurers. Descent into + the Abyss of Malebolge. + Canto XVIII. The Eighth Circle, Malebolge: The Fraudulent and the + Malicious. The First Bolgia: Seducers and Panders. Venedico + Caccianimico. Jason. The Second Bolgia: Flatterers. Allessio + Interminelli. Thais. + Canto XIX. The Third Bolgia: Simoniacs. Pope Nicholas III. Dante’s + Reproof of corrupt Prelates. + Canto XX. The Fourth Bolgia: Soothsayers. Amphiaraus, Tiresias, + Aruns, Manto, Eryphylus, Michael Scott, Guido Bonatti, and + Asdente. Virgil reproaches Dante’s Pity. Mantua’s Foundation. + Canto XXI. The Fifth Bolgia: Peculators. The Elder of Santa Zita. + Malacoda and other Devils. + Canto XXII. Ciampolo, Friar Gomita, and Michael Zanche. The + Malabranche quarrel. + Canto XXIII. Escape from the Malabranche. The Sixth Bolgia: + Hypocrites. Catalano and Loderingo. Caiaphas. + Canto XXIV. The Seventh Bolgia: Thieves. Vanni Fucci. Serpents. + Canto XXV. Vanni Fucci’s Punishment. Agnello Brunelleschi, Buoso + degli Abati, Puccio Sciancato, Cianfa de’ Donati, and Guercio + Cavalcanti. + Canto XXVI. The Eighth Bolgia: Evil Counsellors. Ulysses and + Diomed. Ulysses’ Last Voyage. + Canto XXVII. Guido da Montefeltro. His deception by Pope + Boniface VIII. + Canto XXVIII. The Ninth Bolgia: Schismatics. Mahomet and Ali. Pier + da Medicina, Curio, Mosca, and Bertrand de Born. + Canto XXIX. Geri del Bello. The Tenth Bolgia: Alchemists. + Griffolino d’ Arezzo and Capocchino. + Canto XXX. Other Falsifiers or Forgers. Gianni Schicchi, Myrrha, + Adam of Brescia, Potiphar’s Wife, and Sinon of Troy. + Canto XXXI. The Giants, Nimrod, Ephialtes, and Antaeus. Descent + to Cocytus. + Canto XXXII. The Ninth Circle: Traitors. The Frozen Lake of + Cocytus. First Division, Caina: Traitors to their Kindred. + Camicion de’ Pazzi. Second Division, Antenora: Traitors to their + Country. Dante questions Bocca degli Abati. Buoso da Duera. + Canto XXXIII. Count Ugolino and the Archbishop Ruggieri. The Death + of Count Ugolino’s Sons. Third Division of the Ninth Circle, + Ptolomaea: Traitors to their Friends. Friar Alberigo, Branco d’ + Oria. + Canto XXXIV. Fourth Division of the Ninth Circle, the Judecca: + Traitors to their Lords and Benefactors. Lucifer, Judas Iscariot, + Brutus, and Cassius. The Chasm of Lethe. The Ascent. + + PURGATORIO + I. The Shores of Purgatory. The Four Stars. Cato of Utica. The + Rush. + II. The Celestial Pilot. Casella. The Departure. + III. Discourse on the Limits of Reason. The Foot of the Mountain. + Those who died in Contumacy of Holy Church. Manfredi. + IV. Farther Ascent. Nature of the Mountain. The Negligent, who + postponed Repentance till the last Hour. Belacqua. + V. Those who died by Violence, but repentant. Buonconte di + Monfeltro. La Pia. + VI. Dante’s Inquiry on Prayers for the Dead. Sordello. Italy. + VII. The Valley of Flowers. Negligent Princes. + VIII. The Guardian Angels and the Serpent. Nino di Gallura. The + Three Stars. Currado Malaspina. + IX. Dante’s Dream of the Eagle. The Gate of Purgatory and the + Angel. Seven P’s. The Keys. + X. The Needle’s Eye. The First Circle: The Proud. The Sculptures + on the Wall. + XI. The Humble Prayer. Omberto di Santafiore. Oderisi d’ Agobbio. + Provenzan Salvani. + XII. The Sculptures on the Pavement. Ascent to the Second Circle. + XIII. The Second Circle: The Envious. Sapia of Siena. + XIV. Guido del Duca and Renier da Calboli. Cities of the Arno + Valley. Denunciation of Stubbornness. + XV. The Third Circle: The Irascible. Dante’s Visions. The Smoke. + XVI. Marco Lombardo. Lament over the State of the World. + XVII. Dante’s Dream of Anger. The Fourth Circle: The Slothful. + Virgil’s Discourse of Love. + XVIII. Virgil further discourses of Love and Free Will. The Abbot + of San Zeno. + XIX. Dante’s Dream of the Siren. The Fifth Circle: The Avaricious + and Prodigal. Pope Adrian V. + XX. Hugh Capet. Corruption of the French Crown. Prophecy of the + Abduction of Pope Boniface VIII and the Sacrilege of Philip the + Fair. The Earthquake. + XXI. The Poet Statius. Praise of Virgil. + XXII. Statius’ Denunciation of Avarice. The Sixth Circle: The + Gluttonous. The Mystic Tree. + XXIII. Forese. Reproof of immodest Florentine Women. + XXIV. Buonagiunta da Lucca. Pope Martin IV, and others. Inquiry + into the State of Poetry. + XXV. Discourse of Statius on Generation. The Seventh Circle: The + Wanton. + XXVI. Sodomites. Guido Guinicelli and Arnaldo Daniello. + XXVII. The Wall of Fire and the Angel of God. Dante’s Sleep upon + the Stairway, and his Dream of Leah and Rachel. Arrival at the + Terrestrial Paradise. + XXVIII. The River Lethe. Matilda. The Nature of the Terrestrial + Paradise. + XXIX. The Triumph of the Church. + XXX. Virgil’s Departure. Beatrice. Dante’s Shame. + XXXI. Reproaches of Beatrice and Confession of Dante. The Passage + of Lethe. The Seven Virtues. The Griffon. + XXXII. The Tree of Knowledge. Allegory of the Chariot. + XXXIII. Lament over the State of the Church. Final Reproaches of + Beatrice. The River Eunoe. + + PARADISO + I. The Ascent to the First Heaven. The Sphere of Fire. + II. The First Heaven, the Moon: Spirits who, having taken Sacred + Vows, were forced to violate them. The Lunar Spots. + III. Piccarda Donati and the Empress Constance. + IV. Questionings of the Soul and of Broken Vows. + V. Discourse of Beatrice on Vows and Compensations. Ascent to the + Second Heaven, Mercury: Spirits who for the Love of Fame achieved + great Deeds. + VI. Justinian. The Roman Eagle. The Empire. Romeo. + VII. Beatrice’s Discourse of the Crucifixion, the Incarnation, the + Immortality of the Soul, and the Resurrection of the Body. + VIII. Ascent to the Third Heaven, Venus: Lovers. Charles Martel. + Discourse on diverse Natures. + IX. Cunizza da Romano, Folco of Marseilles, and Rahab. Neglect of + the Holy Land. + X. The Fourth Heaven, the Sun: Theologians and Fathers of the + Church. The First Circle. St. Thomas of Aquinas. + XI. St. Thomas recounts the Life of St. Francis. Lament over the + State of the Dominican Order. + XII. St. Buonaventura recounts the Life of St. Dominic. Lament over + the State of the Franciscan Order. The Second Circle. + XIII. Of the Wisdom of Solomon. St. Thomas reproaches Dante’s + Judgement. + XIV. The Third Circle. Discourse on the Resurrection of the Flesh. + The Fifth Heaven, Mars: Martyrs and Crusaders who died fighting + for the true Faith. The Celestial Cross. + XV. Cacciaguida. Florence in the Olden Time. + XVI. Dante’s Noble Ancestry. Cacciaguida’s Discourse of the Great + Florentines. + XVII. Cacciaguida’s Prophecy of Dante’s Banishment. + XVIII. The Sixth Heaven, Jupiter: Righteous Kings and Rulers. The + Celestial Eagle. Dante’s Invectives against ecclesiastical + Avarice. + XIX. The Eagle discourses of Salvation, Faith, and Virtue. + Condemnation of the vile Kings of A.D. 1300. + XX. The Eagle praises the Righteous Kings of old. Benevolence of + the Divine Will. + XXI. The Seventh Heaven, Saturn: The Contemplative. The Celestial + Stairway. St. Peter Damiano. His Invectives against the Luxury of + the Prelates. + XXII. St. Benedict. His Lamentation over the Corruption of Monks. + The Eighth Heaven, the Fixed Stars. + XXIII. The Triumph of Christ. The Virgin Mary. The Apostles. + Gabriel. + XXIV. The Radiant Wheel. St. Peter examines Dante on Faith. + XXV. The Laurel Crown. St. James examines Dante on Hope. Dante’s + Blindness. + XXVI. St. John examines Dante on Charity. Dante’s Sight. Adam. + XXVII. St. Peter’s reproof of bad Popes. The Ascent to the Ninth + Heaven, the ‘Primum Mobile.’ + XXVIII. God and the Angelic Hierarchies. + XXIX. Beatrice’s Discourse of the Creation of the Angels, and of + the Fall of Lucifer. Her Reproof of Foolish and Avaricious + Preachers. + XXX. The Tenth Heaven, or Empyrean. The River of Light. The Two + Courts of Heaven. The White Rose of Paradise. The great Throne. + XXXI. The Glory of Paradise. Departure of Beatrice. St. Bernard. + XXXII. St. Bernard points out the Saints in the White Rose. + XXXIII. Prayer to the Virgin. The Threefold Circle of the Trinity. + Mystery of the Divine and Human Nature. + APPENDIX + + + + +INFERNO + + + + +Inferno: Canto I + + +Midway upon the journey of our life + I found myself within a forest dark, + For the straightforward pathway had been lost. + +Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say + What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, + Which in the very thought renews the fear. + +So bitter is it, death is little more; + But of the good to treat, which there I found, + Speak will I of the other things I saw there. + +I cannot well repeat how there I entered, + So full was I of slumber at the moment + In which I had abandoned the true way. + +But after I had reached a mountain’s foot, + At that point where the valley terminated, + Which had with consternation pierced my heart, + +Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, + Vested already with that planet’s rays + Which leadeth others right by every road. + +Then was the fear a little quieted + That in my heart’s lake had endured throughout + The night, which I had passed so piteously. + +And even as he, who, with distressful breath, + Forth issued from the sea upon the shore, + Turns to the water perilous and gazes; + +So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, + Turn itself back to re-behold the pass + Which never yet a living person left. + +After my weary body I had rested, + The way resumed I on the desert slope, + So that the firm foot ever was the lower. + +And lo! almost where the ascent began, + A panther light and swift exceedingly, + Which with a spotted skin was covered o’er! + +And never moved she from before my face, + Nay, rather did impede so much my way, + That many times I to return had turned. + +The time was the beginning of the morning, + And up the sun was mounting with those stars + That with him were, what time the Love Divine + +At first in motion set those beauteous things; + So were to me occasion of good hope, + The variegated skin of that wild beast, + +The hour of time, and the delicious season; + But not so much, that did not give me fear + A lion’s aspect which appeared to me. + +He seemed as if against me he were coming + With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, + So that it seemed the air was afraid of him; + +And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings + Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, + And many folk has caused to live forlorn! + +She brought upon me so much heaviness, + With the affright that from her aspect came, + That I the hope relinquished of the height. + +And as he is who willingly acquires, + And the time comes that causes him to lose, + Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent, + +E’en such made me that beast withouten peace, + Which, coming on against me by degrees + Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent. + +While I was rushing downward to the lowland, + Before mine eyes did one present himself, + Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse. + +When I beheld him in the desert vast, + “Have pity on me,” unto him I cried, + “Whiche’er thou art, or shade or real man!” + +He answered me: “Not man; man once I was, + And both my parents were of Lombardy, + And Mantuans by country both of them. + +‘Sub Julio’ was I born, though it was late, + And lived at Rome under the good Augustus, + During the time of false and lying gods. + +A poet was I, and I sang that just + Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy, + After that Ilion the superb was burned. + +But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance? + Why climb’st thou not the Mount Delectable, + Which is the source and cause of every joy?” + +“Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain + Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?” + I made response to him with bashful forehead. + +“O, of the other poets honour and light, + Avail me the long study and great love + That have impelled me to explore thy volume! + +Thou art my master, and my author thou, + Thou art alone the one from whom I took + The beautiful style that has done honour to me. + +Behold the beast, for which I have turned back; + Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage, + For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.” + +“Thee it behoves to take another road,” + Responded he, when he beheld me weeping, + “If from this savage place thou wouldst escape; + +Because this beast, at which thou criest out, + Suffers not any one to pass her way, + But so doth harass him, that she destroys him; + +And has a nature so malign and ruthless, + That never doth she glut her greedy will, + And after food is hungrier than before. + +Many the animals with whom she weds, + And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound + Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain. + +He shall not feed on either earth or pelf, + But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue; + ’Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be; + +Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour, + On whose account the maid Camilla died, + Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds; + +Through every city shall he hunt her down, + Until he shall have driven her back to Hell, + There from whence envy first did let her loose. + +Therefore I think and judge it for thy best + Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, + And lead thee hence through the eternal place, + +Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, + Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate, + Who cry out each one for the second death; + +And thou shalt see those who contented are + Within the fire, because they hope to come, + Whene’er it may be, to the blessed people; + +To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend, + A soul shall be for that than I more worthy; + With her at my departure I will leave thee; + +Because that Emperor, who reigns above, + In that I was rebellious to his law, + Wills that through me none come into his city. + +He governs everywhere, and there he reigns; + There is his city and his lofty throne; + O happy he whom thereto he elects!” + +And I to him: “Poet, I thee entreat, + By that same God whom thou didst never know, + So that I may escape this woe and worse, + +Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said, + That I may see the portal of Saint Peter, + And those thou makest so disconsolate.” + +Then he moved on, and I behind him followed. + + + + +Inferno: Canto II + + +Day was departing, and the embrowned air + Released the animals that are on earth + From their fatigues; and I the only one + +Made myself ready to sustain the war, + Both of the way and likewise of the woe, + Which memory that errs not shall retrace. + +O Muses, O high genius, now assist me! + O memory, that didst write down what I saw, + Here thy nobility shall be manifest! + +And I began: “Poet, who guidest me, + Regard my manhood, if it be sufficient, + Ere to the arduous pass thou dost confide me. + +Thou sayest, that of Silvius the parent, + While yet corruptible, unto the world + Immortal went, and was there bodily. + +But if the adversary of all evil + Was courteous, thinking of the high effect + That issue would from him, and who, and what, + +To men of intellect unmeet it seems not; + For he was of great Rome, and of her empire + In the empyreal heaven as father chosen; + +The which and what, wishing to speak the truth, + Were stablished as the holy place, wherein + Sits the successor of the greatest Peter. + +Upon this journey, whence thou givest him vaunt, + Things did he hear, which the occasion were + Both of his victory and the papal mantle. + +Thither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel, + To bring back comfort thence unto that Faith, + Which of salvation’s way is the beginning. + +But I, why thither come, or who concedes it? + I not Aeneas am, I am not Paul, + Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it. + +Therefore, if I resign myself to come, + I fear the coming may be ill-advised; + Thou’rt wise, and knowest better than I speak.” + +And as he is, who unwills what he willed, + And by new thoughts doth his intention change, + So that from his design he quite withdraws, + +Such I became, upon that dark hillside, + Because, in thinking, I consumed the emprise, + Which was so very prompt in the beginning. + +“If I have well thy language understood,” + Replied that shade of the Magnanimous, + “Thy soul attainted is with cowardice, + +Which many times a man encumbers so, + It turns him back from honoured enterprise, + As false sight doth a beast, when he is shy. + +That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension, + I’ll tell thee why I came, and what I heard + At the first moment when I grieved for thee. + +Among those was I who are in suspense, + And a fair, saintly Lady called to me + In such wise, I besought her to command me. + +Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star; + And she began to say, gentle and low, + With voice angelical, in her own language: + +‘O spirit courteous of Mantua, + Of whom the fame still in the world endures, + And shall endure, long-lasting as the world; + +A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, + Upon the desert slope is so impeded + Upon his way, that he has turned through terror, + +And may, I fear, already be so lost, + That I too late have risen to his succour, + From that which I have heard of him in Heaven. + +Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, + And with what needful is for his release, + Assist him so, that I may be consoled. + +Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go; + I come from there, where I would fain return; + Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak. + +When I shall be in presence of my Lord, + Full often will I praise thee unto him.’ + Then paused she, and thereafter I began: + +‘O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom + The human race exceedeth all contained + Within the heaven that has the lesser circles, + +So grateful unto me is thy commandment, + To obey, if ’twere already done, were late; + No farther need’st thou ope to me thy wish. + +But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun + The here descending down into this centre, + From the vast place thou burnest to return to.’ + +‘Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern, + Briefly will I relate,’ she answered me, + ‘Why I am not afraid to enter here. + +Of those things only should one be afraid + Which have the power of doing others harm; + Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful. + +God in his mercy such created me + That misery of yours attains me not, + Nor any flame assails me of this burning. + +A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves + At this impediment, to which I send thee, + So that stern judgment there above is broken. + +In her entreaty she besought Lucia, + And said, “Thy faithful one now stands in need + Of thee, and unto thee I recommend him.” + +Lucia, foe of all that cruel is, + Hastened away, and came unto the place + Where I was sitting with the ancient Rachel. + +“Beatrice” said she, “the true praise of God, + Why succourest thou not him, who loved thee so, + For thee he issued from the vulgar herd? + +Dost thou not hear the pity of his plaint? + Dost thou not see the death that combats him + Beside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?” + +Never were persons in the world so swift + To work their weal and to escape their woe, + As I, after such words as these were uttered, + +Came hither downward from my blessed seat, + Confiding in thy dignified discourse, + Which honours thee, and those who’ve listened to it.’ + +After she thus had spoken unto me, + Weeping, her shining eyes she turned away; + Whereby she made me swifter in my coming; + +And unto thee I came, as she desired; + I have delivered thee from that wild beast, + Which barred the beautiful mountain’s short ascent. + +What is it, then? Why, why dost thou delay? + Why is such baseness bedded in thy heart? + Daring and hardihood why hast thou not, + +Seeing that three such Ladies benedight + Are caring for thee in the court of Heaven, + And so much good my speech doth promise thee?” + +Even as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill, + Bowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them, + Uplift themselves all open on their stems; + +Such I became with my exhausted strength, + And such good courage to my heart there coursed, + That I began, like an intrepid person: + +“O she compassionate, who succoured me, + And courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon + The words of truth which she addressed to thee! + +Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed + To the adventure, with these words of thine, + That to my first intent I have returned. + +Now go, for one sole will is in us both, + Thou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou.” + Thus said I to him; and when he had moved, + +I entered on the deep and savage way. + + + + +Inferno: Canto III + + +“Through me the way is to the city dolent; + Through me the way is to eternal dole; + Through me the way among the people lost. + +Justice incited my sublime Creator; + Created me divine Omnipotence, + The highest Wisdom and the primal Love. + +Before me there were no created things, + Only eterne, and I eternal last. + All hope abandon, ye who enter in!” + +These words in sombre colour I beheld + Written upon the summit of a gate; + Whence I: “Their sense is, Master, hard to me!” + +And he to me, as one experienced: + “Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned, + All cowardice must needs be here extinct. + +We to the place have come, where I have told thee + Thou shalt behold the people dolorous + Who have foregone the good of intellect.” + +And after he had laid his hand on mine + With joyful mien, whence I was comforted, + He led me in among the secret things. + +There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud + Resounded through the air without a star, + Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat. + +Languages diverse, horrible dialects, + Accents of anger, words of agony, + And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands, + +Made up a tumult that goes whirling on + For ever in that air for ever black, + Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes. + +And I, who had my head with horror bound, + Said: “Master, what is this which now I hear? + What folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?” + +And he to me: “This miserable mode + Maintain the melancholy souls of those + Who lived withouten infamy or praise. + +Commingled are they with that caitiff choir + Of Angels, who have not rebellious been, + Nor faithful were to God, but were for self. + +The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair; + Nor them the nethermore abyss receives, + For glory none the damned would have from them.” + +And I: “O Master, what so grievous is + To these, that maketh them lament so sore?” + He answered: “I will tell thee very briefly. + +These have no longer any hope of death; + And this blind life of theirs is so debased, + They envious are of every other fate. + +No fame of them the world permits to be; + Misericord and Justice both disdain them. + Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass.” + +And I, who looked again, beheld a banner, + Which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly, + That of all pause it seemed to me indignant; + +And after it there came so long a train + Of people, that I ne’er would have believed + That ever Death so many had undone. + +When some among them I had recognised, + I looked, and I beheld the shade of him + Who made through cowardice the great refusal. + +Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain, + That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches + Hateful to God and to his enemies. + +These miscreants, who never were alive, + Were naked, and were stung exceedingly + By gadflies and by hornets that were there. + +These did their faces irrigate with blood, + Which, with their tears commingled, at their feet + By the disgusting worms was gathered up. + +And when to gazing farther I betook me. + People I saw on a great river’s bank; + Whence said I: “Master, now vouchsafe to me, + +That I may know who these are, and what law + Makes them appear so ready to pass over, + As I discern athwart the dusky light.” + +And he to me: “These things shall all be known + To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay + Upon the dismal shore of Acheron.” + +Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast, + Fearing my words might irksome be to him, + From speech refrained I till we reached the river. + +And lo! towards us coming in a boat + An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, + Crying: “Woe unto you, ye souls depraved! + +Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; + I come to lead you to the other shore, + To the eternal shades in heat and frost. + +And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, + Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!” + But when he saw that I did not withdraw, + +He said: “By other ways, by other ports + Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage; + A lighter vessel needs must carry thee.” + +And unto him the Guide: “Vex thee not, Charon; + It is so willed there where is power to do + That which is willed; and farther question not.” + +Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks + Of him the ferryman of the livid fen, + Who round about his eyes had wheels of flame. + +But all those souls who weary were and naked + Their colour changed and gnashed their teeth together, + As soon as they had heard those cruel words. + +God they blasphemed and their progenitors, + The human race, the place, the time, the seed + Of their engendering and of their birth! + +Thereafter all together they drew back, + Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, + Which waiteth every man who fears not God. + +Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede, + Beckoning to them, collects them all together, + Beats with his oar whoever lags behind. + +As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off, + First one and then another, till the branch + Unto the earth surrenders all its spoils; + +In similar wise the evil seed of Adam + Throw themselves from that margin one by one, + At signals, as a bird unto its lure. + +So they depart across the dusky wave, + And ere upon the other side they land, + Again on this side a new troop assembles. + +“My son,” the courteous Master said to me, + “All those who perish in the wrath of God + Here meet together out of every land; + +And ready are they to pass o’er the river, + Because celestial Justice spurs them on, + So that their fear is turned into desire. + +This way there never passes a good soul; + And hence if Charon doth complain of thee, + Well mayst thou know now what his speech imports.” + +This being finished, all the dusk champaign + Trembled so violently, that of that terror + The recollection bathes me still with sweat. + +The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind, + And fulminated a vermilion light, + Which overmastered in me every sense, + +And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell. + + + + +Inferno: Canto IV + + +Broke the deep lethargy within my head + A heavy thunder, so that I upstarted, + Like to a person who by force is wakened; + +And round about I moved my rested eyes, + Uprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed, + To recognise the place wherein I was. + +True is it, that upon the verge I found me + Of the abysmal valley dolorous, + That gathers thunder of infinite ululations. + +Obscure, profound it was, and nebulous, + So that by fixing on its depths my sight + Nothing whatever I discerned therein. + +“Let us descend now into the blind world,” + Began the Poet, pallid utterly; + “I will be first, and thou shalt second be.” + +And I, who of his colour was aware, + Said: “How shall I come, if thou art afraid, + Who’rt wont to be a comfort to my fears?” + +And he to me: “The anguish of the people + Who are below here in my face depicts + That pity which for terror thou hast taken. + +Let us go on, for the long way impels us.” + Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter + The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss. + +There, as it seemed to me from listening, + Were lamentations none, but only sighs, + That tremble made the everlasting air. + +And this arose from sorrow without torment, + Which the crowds had, that many were and great, + Of infants and of women and of men. + +To me the Master good: “Thou dost not ask + What spirits these, which thou beholdest, are? + Now will I have thee know, ere thou go farther, + +That they sinned not; and if they merit had, + ’Tis not enough, because they had not baptism + Which is the portal of the Faith thou holdest; + +And if they were before Christianity, + In the right manner they adored not God; + And among such as these am I myself. + +For such defects, and not for other guilt, + Lost are we and are only so far punished, + That without hope we live on in desire.” + +Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard, + Because some people of much worthiness + I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended. + +“Tell me, my Master, tell me, thou my Lord,” + Began I, with desire of being certain + Of that Faith which o’ercometh every error, + +“Came any one by his own merit hence, + Or by another’s, who was blessed thereafter?” + And he, who understood my covert speech, + +Replied: “I was a novice in this state, + When I saw hither come a Mighty One, + With sign of victory incoronate. + +Hence he drew forth the shade of the First Parent, + And that of his son Abel, and of Noah, + Of Moses the lawgiver, and the obedient + +Abraham, patriarch, and David, king, + Israel with his father and his children, + And Rachel, for whose sake he did so much, + +And others many, and he made them blessed; + And thou must know, that earlier than these + Never were any human spirits saved.” + +We ceased not to advance because he spake, + But still were passing onward through the forest, + The forest, say I, of thick-crowded ghosts. + +Not very far as yet our way had gone + This side the summit, when I saw a fire + That overcame a hemisphere of darkness. + +We were a little distant from it still, + But not so far that I in part discerned not + That honourable people held that place. + +“O thou who honourest every art and science, + Who may these be, which such great honour have, + That from the fashion of the rest it parts them?” + +And he to me: “The honourable name, + That sounds of them above there in thy life, + Wins grace in Heaven, that so advances them.” + +In the mean time a voice was heard by me: + “All honour be to the pre-eminent Poet; + His shade returns again, that was departed.” + +After the voice had ceased and quiet was, + Four mighty shades I saw approaching us; + Semblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad. + +To say to me began my gracious Master: + “Him with that falchion in his hand behold, + Who comes before the three, even as their lord. + +That one is Homer, Poet sovereign; + He who comes next is Horace, the satirist; + The third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan. + +Because to each of these with me applies + The name that solitary voice proclaimed, + They do me honour, and in that do well.” + +Thus I beheld assemble the fair school + Of that lord of the song pre-eminent, + Who o’er the others like an eagle soars. + +When they together had discoursed somewhat, + They turned to me with signs of salutation, + And on beholding this, my Master smiled; + +And more of honour still, much more, they did me, + In that they made me one of their own band; + So that the sixth was I, ’mid so much wit. + +Thus we went on as far as to the light, + Things saying ’tis becoming to keep silent, + As was the saying of them where I was. + +We came unto a noble castle’s foot, + Seven times encompassed with lofty walls, + Defended round by a fair rivulet; + +This we passed over even as firm ground; + Through portals seven I entered with these Sages; + We came into a meadow of fresh verdure. + +People were there with solemn eyes and slow, + Of great authority in their countenance; + They spake but seldom, and with gentle voices. + +Thus we withdrew ourselves upon one side + Into an opening luminous and lofty, + So that they all of them were visible. + +There opposite, upon the green enamel, + Were pointed out to me the mighty spirits, + Whom to have seen I feel myself exalted. + +I saw Electra with companions many, + ’Mongst whom I knew both Hector and Aeneas, + Caesar in armour with gerfalcon eyes; + +I saw Camilla and Penthesilea + On the other side, and saw the King Latinus, + Who with Lavinia his daughter sat; + +I saw that Brutus who drove Tarquin forth, + Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia, + And saw alone, apart, the Saladin. + +When I had lifted up my brows a little, + The Master I beheld of those who know, + Sit with his philosophic family. + +All gaze upon him, and all do him honour. + There I beheld both Socrates and Plato, + Who nearer him before the others stand; + +Democritus, who puts the world on chance, + Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales, + Zeno, Empedocles, and Heraclitus; + +Of qualities I saw the good collector, + Hight Dioscorides; and Orpheus saw I, + Tully and Livy, and moral Seneca, + +Euclid, geometrician, and Ptolemy, + Galen, Hippocrates, and Avicenna, + Averroes, who the great Comment made. + +I cannot all of them pourtray in full, + Because so drives me onward the long theme, + That many times the word comes short of fact. + +The sixfold company in two divides; + Another way my sapient Guide conducts me + Forth from the quiet to the air that trembles; + +And to a place I come where nothing shines. + + + + +Inferno: Canto V + + +Thus I descended out of the first circle + Down to the second, that less space begirds, + And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing. + +There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls; + Examines the transgressions at the entrance; + Judges, and sends according as he girds him. + +I say, that when the spirit evil-born + Cometh before him, wholly it confesses; + And this discriminator of transgressions + +Seeth what place in Hell is meet for it; + Girds himself with his tail as many times + As grades he wishes it should be thrust down. + +Always before him many of them stand; + They go by turns each one unto the judgment; + They speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled. + +“O thou, that to this dolorous hostelry + Comest,” said Minos to me, when he saw me, + Leaving the practice of so great an office, + +“Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest; + Let not the portal’s amplitude deceive thee.” + And unto him my Guide: “Why criest thou too? + +Do not impede his journey fate-ordained; + It is so willed there where is power to do + That which is willed; and ask no further question.” + +And now begin the dolesome notes to grow + Audible unto me; now am I come + There where much lamentation strikes upon me. + +I came into a place mute of all light, + Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest, + If by opposing winds ’t is combated. + +The infernal hurricane that never rests + Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine; + Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. + +When they arrive before the precipice, + There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments, + There they blaspheme the puissance divine. + +I understood that unto such a torment + The carnal malefactors were condemned, + Who reason subjugate to appetite. + +And as the wings of starlings bear them on + In the cold season in large band and full, + So doth that blast the spirits maledict; + +It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; + No hope doth comfort them for evermore, + Not of repose, but even of lesser pain. + +And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays, + Making in air a long line of themselves, + So saw I coming, uttering lamentations, + +Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress. + Whereupon said I: “Master, who are those + People, whom the black air so castigates?” + +“The first of those, of whom intelligence + Thou fain wouldst have,” then said he unto me, + “The empress was of many languages. + +To sensual vices she was so abandoned, + That lustful she made licit in her law, + To remove the blame to which she had been led. + +She is Semiramis, of whom we read + That she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse; + She held the land which now the Sultan rules. + +The next is she who killed herself for love, + And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus; + Then Cleopatra the voluptuous.” + +Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless + Seasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles, + Who at the last hour combated with Love. + +Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand + Shades did he name and point out with his finger, + Whom Love had separated from our life. + +After that I had listened to my Teacher, + Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers, + Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered. + +And I began: “O Poet, willingly + Speak would I to those two, who go together, + And seem upon the wind to be so light.” + +And, he to me: “Thou’lt mark, when they shall be + Nearer to us; and then do thou implore them + By love which leadeth them, and they will come.” + +Soon as the wind in our direction sways them, + My voice uplift I: “O ye weary souls! + Come speak to us, if no one interdicts it.” + +As turtle-doves, called onward by desire, + With open and steady wings to the sweet nest + Fly through the air by their volition borne, + +So came they from the band where Dido is, + Approaching us athwart the air malign, + So strong was the affectionate appeal. + +“O living creature gracious and benignant, + Who visiting goest through the purple air + Us, who have stained the world incarnadine, + +If were the King of the Universe our friend, + We would pray unto him to give thee peace, + Since thou hast pity on our woe perverse. + +Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak, + That will we hear, and we will speak to you, + While silent is the wind, as it is now. + +Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, + Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends + To rest in peace with all his retinue. + +Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, + Seized this man for the person beautiful + That was ta’en from me, and still the mode offends me. + +Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, + Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, + That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; + +Love has conducted us unto one death; + Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!” + These words were borne along from them to us. + +As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, + I bowed my face, and so long held it down + Until the Poet said to me: “What thinkest?” + +When I made answer, I began: “Alas! + How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, + Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!” + +Then unto them I turned me, and I spake, + And I began: “Thine agonies, Francesca, + Sad and compassionate to weeping make me. + +But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, + By what and in what manner Love conceded, + That you should know your dubious desires?” + +And she to me: “There is no greater sorrow + Than to be mindful of the happy time + In misery, and that thy Teacher knows. + +But, if to recognise the earliest root + Of love in us thou hast so great desire, + I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. + +One day we reading were for our delight + Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral. + Alone we were and without any fear. + +Full many a time our eyes together drew + That reading, and drove the colour from our faces; + But one point only was it that o’ercame us. + +When as we read of the much-longed-for smile + Being by such a noble lover kissed, + This one, who ne’er from me shall be divided, + +Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. + Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. + That day no farther did we read therein.” + +And all the while one spirit uttered this, + The other one did weep so, that, for pity, + I swooned away as if I had been dying, + +And fell, even as a dead body falls. + + + + +Inferno: Canto VI + + +At the return of consciousness, that closed + Before the pity of those two relations, + Which utterly with sadness had confused me, + +New torments I behold, and new tormented + Around me, whichsoever way I move, + And whichsoever way I turn, and gaze. + +In the third circle am I of the rain + Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy; + Its law and quality are never new. + +Huge hail, and water sombre-hued, and snow, + Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain; + Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this. + +Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth, + With his three gullets like a dog is barking + Over the people that are there submerged. + +Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black, + And belly large, and armed with claws his hands; + He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them. + +Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs; + One side they make a shelter for the other; + Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates. + +When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm! + His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks; + Not a limb had he that was motionless. + +And my Conductor, with his spans extended, + Took of the earth, and with his fists well filled, + He threw it into those rapacious gullets. + +Such as that dog is, who by barking craves, + And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws, + For to devour it he but thinks and struggles, + +The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed + Of Cerberus the demon, who so thunders + Over the souls that they would fain be deaf. + +We passed across the shadows, which subdues + The heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet + Upon their vanity that person seems. + +They all were lying prone upon the earth, + Excepting one, who sat upright as soon + As he beheld us passing on before him. + +“O thou that art conducted through this Hell,” + He said to me, “recall me, if thou canst; + Thyself wast made before I was unmade.” + +And I to him: “The anguish which thou hast + Perhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance, + So that it seems not I have ever seen thee. + +But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful + A place art put, and in such punishment, + If some are greater, none is so displeasing.” + +And he to me: “Thy city, which is full + Of envy so that now the sack runs over, + Held me within it in the life serene. + +You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco; + For the pernicious sin of gluttony + I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain. + +And I, sad soul, am not the only one, + For all these suffer the like penalty + For the like sin;” and word no more spake he. + +I answered him: “Ciacco, thy wretchedness + Weighs on me so that it to weep invites me; + But tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come + +The citizens of the divided city; + If any there be just; and the occasion + Tell me why so much discord has assailed it.” + +And he to me: “They, after long contention, + Will come to bloodshed; and the rustic party + Will drive the other out with much offence. + +Then afterwards behoves it this one fall + Within three suns, and rise again the other + By force of him who now is on the coast. + +High will it hold its forehead a long while, + Keeping the other under heavy burdens, + Howe’er it weeps thereat and is indignant. + +The just are two, and are not understood there; + Envy and Arrogance and Avarice + Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled.” + +Here ended he his tearful utterance; + And I to him: “I wish thee still to teach me, + And make a gift to me of further speech. + +Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy, + Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca, + And others who on good deeds set their thoughts, + +Say where they are, and cause that I may know them; + For great desire constraineth me to learn + If Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom.” + +And he: “They are among the blacker souls; + A different sin downweighs them to the bottom; + If thou so far descendest, thou canst see them. + +But when thou art again in the sweet world, + I pray thee to the mind of others bring me; + No more I tell thee and no more I answer.” + +Then his straightforward eyes he turned askance, + Eyed me a little, and then bowed his head; + He fell therewith prone like the other blind. + +And the Guide said to me: “He wakes no more + This side the sound of the angelic trumpet; + When shall approach the hostile Potentate, + +Each one shall find again his dismal tomb, + Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure, + Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes.” + +So we passed onward o’er the filthy mixture + Of shadows and of rain with footsteps slow, + Touching a little on the future life. + +Wherefore I said: “Master, these torments here, + Will they increase after the mighty sentence, + Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?” + +And he to me: “Return unto thy science, + Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is, + The more it feels of pleasure and of pain. + +Albeit that this people maledict + To true perfection never can attain, + Hereafter more than now they look to be.” + +Round in a circle by that road we went, + Speaking much more, which I do not repeat; + We came unto the point where the descent is; + +There we found Plutus the great enemy. + + + + +Inferno: Canto VII + + +“Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!” + Thus Plutus with his clucking voice began; + And that benignant Sage, who all things knew, + +Said, to encourage me: “Let not thy fear + Harm thee; for any power that he may have + Shall not prevent thy going down this crag.” + +Then he turned round unto that bloated lip, + And said: “Be silent, thou accursed wolf; + Consume within thyself with thine own rage. + +Not causeless is this journey to the abyss; + Thus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought + Vengeance upon the proud adultery.” + +Even as the sails inflated by the wind + Involved together fall when snaps the mast, + So fell the cruel monster to the earth. + +Thus we descended into the fourth chasm, + Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore + Which all the woe of the universe insacks. + +Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many + New toils and sufferings as I beheld? + And why doth our transgression waste us so? + +As doth the billow there upon Charybdis, + That breaks itself on that which it encounters, + So here the folk must dance their roundelay. + +Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many, + On one side and the other, with great howls, + Rolling weights forward by main force of chest. + +They clashed together, and then at that point + Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde, + Crying, “Why keepest?” and, “Why squanderest thou?” + +Thus they returned along the lurid circle + On either hand unto the opposite point, + Shouting their shameful metre evermore. + +Then each, when he arrived there, wheeled about + Through his half-circle to another joust; + And I, who had my heart pierced as it were, + +Exclaimed: “My Master, now declare to me + What people these are, and if all were clerks, + These shaven crowns upon the left of us.” + +And he to me: “All of them were asquint + In intellect in the first life, so much + That there with measure they no spending made. + +Clearly enough their voices bark it forth, + Whene’er they reach the two points of the circle, + Where sunders them the opposite defect. + +Clerks those were who no hairy covering + Have on the head, and Popes and Cardinals, + In whom doth Avarice practise its excess.” + +And I: “My Master, among such as these + I ought forsooth to recognise some few, + Who were infected with these maladies.” + +And he to me: “Vain thought thou entertainest; + The undiscerning life which made them sordid + Now makes them unto all discernment dim. + +Forever shall they come to these two buttings; + These from the sepulchre shall rise again + With the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn. + +Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world + Have ta’en from them, and placed them in this scuffle; + Whate’er it be, no words adorn I for it. + +Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce + Of goods that are committed unto Fortune, + For which the human race each other buffet; + +For all the gold that is beneath the moon, + Or ever has been, of these weary souls + Could never make a single one repose.” + +“Master,” I said to him, “now tell me also + What is this Fortune which thou speakest of, + That has the world’s goods so within its clutches?” + +And he to me: “O creatures imbecile, + What ignorance is this which doth beset you? + Now will I have thee learn my judgment of her. + +He whose omniscience everything transcends + The heavens created, and gave who should guide them, + That every part to every part may shine, + +Distributing the light in equal measure; + He in like manner to the mundane splendours + Ordained a general ministress and guide, + +That she might change at times the empty treasures + From race to race, from one blood to another, + Beyond resistance of all human wisdom. + +Therefore one people triumphs, and another + Languishes, in pursuance of her judgment, + Which hidden is, as in the grass a serpent. + +Your knowledge has no counterstand against her; + She makes provision, judges, and pursues + Her governance, as theirs the other gods. + +Her permutations have not any truce; + Necessity makes her precipitate, + So often cometh who his turn obtains. + +And this is she who is so crucified + Even by those who ought to give her praise, + Giving her blame amiss, and bad repute. + +But she is blissful, and she hears it not; + Among the other primal creatures gladsome + She turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices. + +Let us descend now unto greater woe; + Already sinks each star that was ascending + When I set out, and loitering is forbidden.” + +We crossed the circle to the other bank, + Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself + Along a gully that runs out of it. + +The water was more sombre far than perse; + And we, in company with the dusky waves, + Made entrance downward by a path uncouth. + +A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx, + This tristful brooklet, when it has descended + Down to the foot of the malign gray shores. + +And I, who stood intent upon beholding, + Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon, + All of them naked and with angry look. + +They smote each other not alone with hands, + But with the head and with the breast and feet, + Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth. + +Said the good Master: “Son, thou now beholdest + The souls of those whom anger overcame; + And likewise I would have thee know for certain + +Beneath the water people are who sigh + And make this water bubble at the surface, + As the eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turns. + +Fixed in the mire they say, ‘We sullen were + In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened, + Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek; + +Now we are sullen in this sable mire.’ + This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats, + For with unbroken words they cannot say it.” + +Thus we went circling round the filthy fen + A great arc ’twixt the dry bank and the swamp, + With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire; + +Unto the foot of a tower we came at last. + + + + +Inferno: Canto VIII + + +I say, continuing, that long before + We to the foot of that high tower had come, + Our eyes went upward to the summit of it, + +By reason of two flamelets we saw placed there, + And from afar another answer them, + So far, that hardly could the eye attain it. + +And, to the sea of all discernment turned, + I said: “What sayeth this, and what respondeth + That other fire? and who are they that made it?” + +And he to me: “Across the turbid waves + What is expected thou canst now discern, + If reek of the morass conceal it not.” + +Cord never shot an arrow from itself + That sped away athwart the air so swift, + As I beheld a very little boat + +Come o’er the water tow’rds us at that moment, + Under the guidance of a single pilot, + Who shouted, “Now art thou arrived, fell soul?” + +“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, thou criest out in vain + For this once,” said my Lord; “thou shalt not have us + Longer than in the passing of the slough.” + +As he who listens to some great deceit + That has been done to him, and then resents it, + Such became Phlegyas, in his gathered wrath. + +My Guide descended down into the boat, + And then he made me enter after him, + And only when I entered seemed it laden. + +Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat, + The antique prow goes on its way, dividing + More of the water than ’tis wont with others. + +While we were running through the dead canal, + Uprose in front of me one full of mire, + And said, “Who ’rt thou that comest ere the hour?” + +And I to him: “Although I come, I stay not; + But who art thou that hast become so squalid?” + “Thou seest that I am one who weeps,” he answered. + +And I to him: “With weeping and with wailing, + Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain; + For thee I know, though thou art all defiled.” + +Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat; + Whereat my wary Master thrust him back, + Saying, “Away there with the other dogs!” + +Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck; + He kissed my face, and said: “Disdainful soul, + Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom. + +That was an arrogant person in the world; + Goodness is none, that decks his memory; + So likewise here his shade is furious. + +How many are esteemed great kings up there, + Who here shall be like unto swine in mire, + Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!” + +And I: “My Master, much should I be pleased, + If I could see him soused into this broth, + Before we issue forth out of the lake.” + +And he to me: “Ere unto thee the shore + Reveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied; + Such a desire ’tis meet thou shouldst enjoy.” + +A little after that, I saw such havoc + Made of him by the people of the mire, + That still I praise and thank my God for it. + +They all were shouting, “At Philippo Argenti!” + And that exasperate spirit Florentine + Turned round upon himself with his own teeth. + +We left him there, and more of him I tell not; + But on mine ears there smote a lamentation, + Whence forward I intent unbar mine eyes. + +And the good Master said: “Even now, my Son, + The city draweth near whose name is Dis, + With the grave citizens, with the great throng.” + +And I: “Its mosques already, Master, clearly + Within there in the valley I discern + Vermilion, as if issuing from the fire + +They were.” And he to me: “The fire eternal + That kindles them within makes them look red, + As thou beholdest in this nether Hell.” + +Then we arrived within the moats profound, + That circumvallate that disconsolate city; + The walls appeared to me to be of iron. + +Not without making first a circuit wide, + We came unto a place where loud the pilot + Cried out to us, “Debark, here is the entrance.” + +More than a thousand at the gates I saw + Out of the Heavens rained down, who angrily + Were saying, “Who is this that without death + +Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?” + And my sagacious Master made a sign + Of wishing secretly to speak with them. + +A little then they quelled their great disdain, + And said: “Come thou alone, and he begone + Who has so boldly entered these dominions. + +Let him return alone by his mad road; + Try, if he can; for thou shalt here remain, + Who hast escorted him through such dark regions.” + +Think, Reader, if I was discomforted + At utterance of the accursed words; + For never to return here I believed. + +“O my dear Guide, who more than seven times + Hast rendered me security, and drawn me + From imminent peril that before me stood, + +Do not desert me,” said I, “thus undone; + And if the going farther be denied us, + Let us retrace our steps together swiftly.” + +And that Lord, who had led me thitherward, + Said unto me: “Fear not; because our passage + None can take from us, it by Such is given. + +But here await me, and thy weary spirit + Comfort and nourish with a better hope; + For in this nether world I will not leave thee.” + +So onward goes and there abandons me + My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt, + For No and Yes within my head contend. + +I could not hear what he proposed to them; + But with them there he did not linger long, + Ere each within in rivalry ran back. + +They closed the portals, those our adversaries, + On my Lord’s breast, who had remained without + And turned to me with footsteps far between. + +His eyes cast down, his forehead shorn had he + Of all its boldness, and he said, with sighs, + “Who has denied to me the dolesome houses?” + +And unto me: “Thou, because I am angry, + Fear not, for I will conquer in the trial, + Whatever for defence within be planned. + +This arrogance of theirs is nothing new; + For once they used it at less secret gate, + Which finds itself without a fastening still. + +O’er it didst thou behold the dead inscription; + And now this side of it descends the steep, + Passing across the circles without escort, + +One by whose means the city shall be opened.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto IX + + +That hue which cowardice brought out on me, + Beholding my Conductor backward turn, + Sooner repressed within him his new colour. + +He stopped attentive, like a man who listens, + Because the eye could not conduct him far + Through the black air, and through the heavy fog. + +“Still it behoveth us to win the fight,” + Began he; “Else. . .Such offered us herself. . . + O how I long that some one here arrive!” + +Well I perceived, as soon as the beginning + He covered up with what came afterward, + That they were words quite different from the first; + +But none the less his saying gave me fear, + Because I carried out the broken phrase, + Perhaps to a worse meaning than he had. + +“Into this bottom of the doleful conch + Doth any e’er descend from the first grade, + Which for its pain has only hope cut off?” + +This question put I; and he answered me: + “Seldom it comes to pass that one of us + Maketh the journey upon which I go. + +True is it, once before I here below + Was conjured by that pitiless Erictho, + Who summoned back the shades unto their bodies. + +Naked of me short while the flesh had been, + Before within that wall she made me enter, + To bring a spirit from the circle of Judas; + +That is the lowest region and the darkest, + And farthest from the heaven which circles all. + Well know I the way; therefore be reassured. + +This fen, which a prodigious stench exhales, + Encompasses about the city dolent, + Where now we cannot enter without anger.” + +And more he said, but not in mind I have it; + Because mine eye had altogether drawn me + Tow’rds the high tower with the red-flaming summit, + +Where in a moment saw I swift uprisen + The three infernal Furies stained with blood, + Who had the limbs of women and their mien, + +And with the greenest hydras were begirt; + Small serpents and cerastes were their tresses, + Wherewith their horrid temples were entwined. + +And he who well the handmaids of the Queen + Of everlasting lamentation knew, + Said unto me: “Behold the fierce Erinnys. + +This is Megaera, on the left-hand side; + She who is weeping on the right, Alecto; + Tisiphone is between;” and then was silent. + +Each one her breast was rending with her nails; + They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud, + That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet. + +“Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!” + All shouted looking down; “in evil hour + Avenged we not on Theseus his assault!” + +“Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut, + For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shouldst see it, + No more returning upward would there be.” + +Thus said the Master; and he turned me round + Himself, and trusted not unto my hands + So far as not to blind me with his own. + +O ye who have undistempered intellects, + Observe the doctrine that conceals itself + Beneath the veil of the mysterious verses! + +And now there came across the turbid waves + The clangour of a sound with terror fraught, + Because of which both of the margins trembled; + +Not otherwise it was than of a wind + Impetuous on account of adverse heats, + That smites the forest, and, without restraint, + +The branches rends, beats down, and bears away; + Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb, + And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds. + +Mine eyes he loosed, and said: “Direct the nerve + Of vision now along that ancient foam, + There yonder where that smoke is most intense.” + +Even as the frogs before the hostile serpent + Across the water scatter all abroad, + Until each one is huddled in the earth. + +More than a thousand ruined souls I saw, + Thus fleeing from before one who on foot + Was passing o’er the Styx with soles unwet. + +From off his face he fanned that unctuous air, + Waving his left hand oft in front of him, + And only with that anguish seemed he weary. + +Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he, + And to the Master turned; and he made sign + That I should quiet stand, and bow before him. + +Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me! + He reached the gate, and with a little rod + He opened it, for there was no resistance. + +“O banished out of Heaven, people despised!” + Thus he began upon the horrid threshold; + “Whence is this arrogance within you couched? + +Wherefore recalcitrate against that will, + From which the end can never be cut off, + And which has many times increased your pain? + +What helpeth it to butt against the fates? + Your Cerberus, if you remember well, + For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled.” + +Then he returned along the miry road, + And spake no word to us, but had the look + Of one whom other care constrains and goads + +Than that of him who in his presence is; + And we our feet directed tow’rds the city, + After those holy words all confident. + +Within we entered without any contest; + And I, who inclination had to see + What the condition such a fortress holds, + +Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye, + And see on every hand an ample plain, + Full of distress and torment terrible. + +Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone, + Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro, + That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders, + +The sepulchres make all the place uneven; + So likewise did they there on every side, + Saving that there the manner was more bitter; + +For flames between the sepulchres were scattered, + By which they so intensely heated were, + That iron more so asks not any art. + +All of their coverings uplifted were, + And from them issued forth such dire laments, + Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented. + +And I: “My Master, what are all those people + Who, having sepulture within those tombs, + Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?” + +And he to me: “Here are the Heresiarchs, + With their disciples of all sects, and much + More than thou thinkest laden are the tombs. + +Here like together with its like is buried; + And more and less the monuments are heated.” + And when he to the right had turned, we passed + +Between the torments and high parapets. + + + + +Inferno: Canto X + + +Now onward goes, along a narrow path + Between the torments and the city wall, + My Master, and I follow at his back. + +“O power supreme, that through these impious circles + Turnest me,” I began, “as pleases thee, + Speak to me, and my longings satisfy; + +The people who are lying in these tombs, + Might they be seen? already are uplifted + The covers all, and no one keepeth guard.” + +And he to me: “They all will be closed up + When from Jehoshaphat they shall return + Here with the bodies they have left above. + +Their cemetery have upon this side + With Epicurus all his followers, + Who with the body mortal make the soul; + +But in the question thou dost put to me, + Within here shalt thou soon be satisfied, + And likewise in the wish thou keepest silent.” + +And I: “Good Leader, I but keep concealed + From thee my heart, that I may speak the less, + Nor only now hast thou thereto disposed me.” + +“O Tuscan, thou who through the city of fire + Goest alive, thus speaking modestly, + Be pleased to stay thy footsteps in this place. + +Thy mode of speaking makes thee manifest + A native of that noble fatherland, + To which perhaps I too molestful was.” + +Upon a sudden issued forth this sound + From out one of the tombs; wherefore I pressed, + Fearing, a little nearer to my Leader. + +And unto me he said: “Turn thee; what dost thou? + Behold there Farinata who has risen; + From the waist upwards wholly shalt thou see him.” + +I had already fixed mine eyes on his, + And he uprose erect with breast and front + E’en as if Hell he had in great despite. + +And with courageous hands and prompt my Leader + Thrust me between the sepulchres towards him, + Exclaiming, “Let thy words explicit be.” + +As soon as I was at the foot of his tomb + Somewhat he eyed me, and, as if disdainful, + Then asked of me, “Who were thine ancestors?” + +I, who desirous of obeying was, + Concealed it not, but all revealed to him; + Whereat he raised his brows a little upward. + +Then said he: “Fiercely adverse have they been + To me, and to my fathers, and my party; + So that two several times I scattered them.” + +“If they were banished, they returned on all sides,” + I answered him, “the first time and the second; + But yours have not acquired that art aright.” + +Then there uprose upon the sight, uncovered + Down to the chin, a shadow at his side; + I think that he had risen on his knees. + +Round me he gazed, as if solicitude + He had to see if some one else were with me, + But after his suspicion was all spent, + +Weeping, he said to me: “If through this blind + Prison thou goest by loftiness of genius, + Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?” + +And I to him: “I come not of myself; + He who is waiting yonder leads me here, + Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had.” + +His language and the mode of punishment + Already unto me had read his name; + On that account my answer was so full. + +Up starting suddenly, he cried out: “How + Saidst thou,—he had? Is he not still alive? + Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?” + +When he became aware of some delay, + Which I before my answer made, supine + He fell again, and forth appeared no more. + +But the other, magnanimous, at whose desire + I had remained, did not his aspect change, + Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side. + +“And if,” continuing his first discourse, + “They have that art,” he said, “not learned aright, + That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed. + +But fifty times shall not rekindled be + The countenance of the Lady who reigns here, + Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art; + +And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return, + Say why that people is so pitiless + Against my race in each one of its laws?” + +Whence I to him: “The slaughter and great carnage + Which have with crimson stained the Arbia, cause + Such orisons in our temple to be made.” + +After his head he with a sigh had shaken, + “There I was not alone,” he said, “nor surely + Without a cause had with the others moved. + +But there I was alone, where every one + Consented to the laying waste of Florence, + He who defended her with open face.” + +“Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose,” + I him entreated, “solve for me that knot, + Which has entangled my conceptions here. + +It seems that you can see, if I hear rightly, + Beforehand whatsoe’er time brings with it, + And in the present have another mode.” + +“We see, like those who have imperfect sight, + The things,” he said, “that distant are from us; + So much still shines on us the Sovereign Ruler. + +When they draw near, or are, is wholly vain + Our intellect, and if none brings it to us, + Not anything know we of your human state. + +Hence thou canst understand, that wholly dead + Will be our knowledge from the moment when + The portal of the future shall be closed.” + +Then I, as if compunctious for my fault, + Said: “Now, then, you will tell that fallen one, + That still his son is with the living joined. + +And if just now, in answering, I was dumb, + Tell him I did it because I was thinking + Already of the error you have solved me.” + +And now my Master was recalling me, + Wherefore more eagerly I prayed the spirit + That he would tell me who was with him there. + +He said: “With more than a thousand here I lie; + Within here is the second Frederick, + And the Cardinal, and of the rest I speak not.” + +Thereon he hid himself; and I towards + The ancient poet turned my steps, reflecting + Upon that saying, which seemed hostile to me. + +He moved along; and afterward thus going, + He said to me, “Why art thou so bewildered?” + And I in his inquiry satisfied him. + +“Let memory preserve what thou hast heard + Against thyself,” that Sage commanded me, + “And now attend here;” and he raised his finger. + +“When thou shalt be before the radiance sweet + Of her whose beauteous eyes all things behold, + From her thou’lt know the journey of thy life.” + +Unto the left hand then he turned his feet; + We left the wall, and went towards the middle, + Along a path that strikes into a valley, + +Which even up there unpleasant made its stench. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XI + + +Upon the margin of a lofty bank + Which great rocks broken in a circle made, + We came upon a still more cruel throng; + +And there, by reason of the horrible + Excess of stench the deep abyss throws out, + We drew ourselves aside behind the cover + +Of a great tomb, whereon I saw a writing, + Which said: “Pope Anastasius I hold, + Whom out of the right way Photinus drew.” + +“Slow it behoveth our descent to be, + So that the sense be first a little used + To the sad blast, and then we shall not heed it.” + +The Master thus; and unto him I said, + “Some compensation find, that the time pass not + Idly;” and he: “Thou seest I think of that. + +My son, upon the inside of these rocks,” + Began he then to say, “are three small circles, + From grade to grade, like those which thou art leaving. + +They all are full of spirits maledict; + But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee, + Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint. + +Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven, + Injury is the end; and all such end + Either by force or fraud afflicteth others. + +But because fraud is man’s peculiar vice, + More it displeases God; and so stand lowest + The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them. + +All the first circle of the Violent is; + But since force may be used against three persons, + In three rounds ’tis divided and constructed. + +To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbour can we + Use force; I say on them and on their things, + As thou shalt hear with reason manifest. + +A death by violence, and painful wounds, + Are to our neighbour given; and in his substance + Ruin, and arson, and injurious levies; + +Whence homicides, and he who smites unjustly, + Marauders, and freebooters, the first round + Tormenteth all in companies diverse. + +Man may lay violent hands upon himself + And his own goods; and therefore in the second + Round must perforce without avail repent + +Whoever of your world deprives himself, + Who games, and dissipates his property, + And weepeth there, where he should jocund be. + +Violence can be done the Deity, + In heart denying and blaspheming Him, + And by disdaining Nature and her bounty. + +And for this reason doth the smallest round + Seal with its signet Sodom and Cahors, + And who, disdaining God, speaks from the heart. + +Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, + A man may practise upon him who trusts, + And him who doth no confidence imburse. + +This latter mode, it would appear, dissevers + Only the bond of love which Nature makes; + Wherefore within the second circle nestle + +Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, + Falsification, theft, and simony, + Panders, and barrators, and the like filth. + +By the other mode, forgotten is that love + Which Nature makes, and what is after added, + From which there is a special faith engendered. + +Hence in the smallest circle, where the point is + Of the Universe, upon which Dis is seated, + Whoe’er betrays for ever is consumed.” + +And I: “My Master, clear enough proceeds + Thy reasoning, and full well distinguishes + This cavern and the people who possess it. + +But tell me, those within the fat lagoon, + Whom the wind drives, and whom the rain doth beat, + And who encounter with such bitter tongues, + +Wherefore are they inside of the red city + Not punished, if God has them in his wrath, + And if he has not, wherefore in such fashion?” + +And unto me he said: “Why wanders so + Thine intellect from that which it is wont? + Or, sooth, thy mind where is it elsewhere looking? + +Hast thou no recollection of those words + With which thine Ethics thoroughly discusses + The dispositions three, that Heaven abides not,— + +Incontinence, and Malice, and insane + Bestiality? and how Incontinence + Less God offendeth, and less blame attracts? + +If thou regardest this conclusion well, + And to thy mind recallest who they are + That up outside are undergoing penance, + +Clearly wilt thou perceive why from these felons + They separated are, and why less wroth + Justice divine doth smite them with its hammer.” + +“O Sun, that healest all distempered vision, + Thou dost content me so, when thou resolvest, + That doubting pleases me no less than knowing! + +Once more a little backward turn thee,” said I, + “There where thou sayest that usury offends + Goodness divine, and disengage the knot.” + +“Philosophy,” he said, “to him who heeds it, + Noteth, not only in one place alone, + After what manner Nature takes her course + +From Intellect Divine, and from its art; + And if thy Physics carefully thou notest, + After not many pages shalt thou find, + +That this your art as far as possible + Follows, as the disciple doth the master; + So that your art is, as it were, God’s grandchild. + +From these two, if thou bringest to thy mind + Genesis at the beginning, it behoves + Mankind to gain their life and to advance; + +And since the usurer takes another way, + Nature herself and in her follower + Disdains he, for elsewhere he puts his hope. + +But follow, now, as I would fain go on, + For quivering are the Fishes on the horizon, + And the Wain wholly over Caurus lies, + +And far beyond there we descend the crag.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XII + + +The place where to descend the bank we came + Was alpine, and from what was there, moreover, + Of such a kind that every eye would shun it. + +Such as that ruin is which in the flank + Smote, on this side of Trent, the Adige, + Either by earthquake or by failing stay, + +For from the mountain’s top, from which it moved, + Unto the plain the cliff is shattered so, + Some path ’twould give to him who was above; + +Even such was the descent of that ravine, + And on the border of the broken chasm + The infamy of Crete was stretched along, + +Who was conceived in the fictitious cow; + And when he us beheld, he bit himself, + Even as one whom anger racks within. + +My Sage towards him shouted: “Peradventure + Thou think’st that here may be the Duke of Athens, + Who in the world above brought death to thee? + +Get thee gone, beast, for this one cometh not + Instructed by thy sister, but he comes + In order to behold your punishments.” + +As is that bull who breaks loose at the moment + In which he has received the mortal blow, + Who cannot walk, but staggers here and there, + +The Minotaur beheld I do the like; + And he, the wary, cried: “Run to the passage; + While he wroth, ’tis well thou shouldst descend.” + +Thus down we took our way o’er that discharge + Of stones, which oftentimes did move themselves + Beneath my feet, from the unwonted burden. + +Thoughtful I went; and he said: “Thou art thinking + Perhaps upon this ruin, which is guarded + By that brute anger which just now I quenched. + +Now will I have thee know, the other time + I here descended to the nether Hell, + This precipice had not yet fallen down. + +But truly, if I well discern, a little + Before His coming who the mighty spoil + Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle, + +Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley + Trembled so, that I thought the Universe + Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think + +The world ofttimes converted into chaos; + And at that moment this primeval crag + Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow. + +But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near + The river of blood, within which boiling is + Whoe’er by violence doth injure others.” + +O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, + That spurs us onward so in our short life, + And in the eternal then so badly steeps us! + +I saw an ample moat bent like a bow, + As one which all the plain encompasses, + Conformable to what my Guide had said. + +And between this and the embankment’s foot + Centaurs in file were running, armed with arrows, + As in the world they used the chase to follow. + +Beholding us descend, each one stood still, + And from the squadron three detached themselves, + With bows and arrows in advance selected; + +And from afar one cried: “Unto what torment + Come ye, who down the hillside are descending? + Tell us from there; if not, I draw the bow.” + +My Master said: “Our answer will we make + To Chiron, near you there; in evil hour, + That will of thine was evermore so hasty.” + +Then touched he me, and said: “This one is Nessus, + Who perished for the lovely Dejanira, + And for himself, himself did vengeance take. + +And he in the midst, who at his breast is gazing, + Is the great Chiron, who brought up Achilles; + That other Pholus is, who was so wrathful. + +Thousands and thousands go about the moat + Shooting with shafts whatever soul emerges + Out of the blood, more than his crime allots.” + +Near we approached unto those monsters fleet; + Chiron an arrow took, and with the notch + Backward upon his jaws he put his beard. + +After he had uncovered his great mouth, + He said to his companions: “Are you ware + That he behind moveth whate’er he touches? + +Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men.” + And my good Guide, who now was at his breast, + Where the two natures are together joined, + +Replied: “Indeed he lives, and thus alone + Me it behoves to show him the dark valley; + Necessity, and not delight, impels us. + +Some one withdrew from singing Halleluja, + Who unto me committed this new office; + No thief is he, nor I a thievish spirit. + +But by that virtue through which I am moving + My steps along this savage thoroughfare, + Give us some one of thine, to be with us, + +And who may show us where to pass the ford, + And who may carry this one on his back; + For ’tis no spirit that can walk the air.” + +Upon his right breast Chiron wheeled about, + And said to Nessus: “Turn and do thou guide them, + And warn aside, if other band may meet you.” + +We with our faithful escort onward moved + Along the brink of the vermilion boiling, + Wherein the boiled were uttering loud laments. + +People I saw within up to the eyebrows, + And the great Centaur said: “Tyrants are these, + Who dealt in bloodshed and in pillaging. + +Here they lament their pitiless mischiefs; here + Is Alexander, and fierce Dionysius + Who upon Sicily brought dolorous years. + +That forehead there which has the hair so black + Is Azzolin; and the other who is blond, + Obizzo is of Esti, who, in truth, + +Up in the world was by his stepson slain.” + Then turned I to the Poet; and he said, + “Now he be first to thee, and second I.” + +A little farther on the Centaur stopped + Above a folk, who far down as the throat + Seemed from that boiling stream to issue forth. + +A shade he showed us on one side alone, + Saying: “He cleft asunder in God’s bosom + The heart that still upon the Thames is honoured.” + +Then people saw I, who from out the river + Lifted their heads and also all the chest; + And many among these I recognised. + +Thus ever more and more grew shallower + That blood, so that the feet alone it covered; + And there across the moat our passage was. + +“Even as thou here upon this side beholdest + The boiling stream, that aye diminishes,” + The Centaur said, “I wish thee to believe + +That on this other more and more declines + Its bed, until it reunites itself + Where it behoveth tyranny to groan. + +Justice divine, upon this side, is goading + That Attila, who was a scourge on earth, + And Pyrrhus, and Sextus; and for ever milks + +The tears which with the boiling it unseals + In Rinier da Corneto and Rinier Pazzo, + Who made upon the highways so much war.” + +Then back he turned, and passed again the ford. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XIII + + +Not yet had Nessus reached the other side, + When we had put ourselves within a wood, + That was not marked by any path whatever. + +Not foliage green, but of a dusky colour, + Not branches smooth, but gnarled and intertangled, + Not apple-trees were there, but thorns with poison. + +Such tangled thickets have not, nor so dense, + Those savage wild beasts, that in hatred hold + ’Twixt Cecina and Corneto the tilled places. + +There do the hideous Harpies make their nests, + Who chased the Trojans from the Strophades, + With sad announcement of impending doom; + +Broad wings have they, and necks and faces human, + And feet with claws, and their great bellies fledged; + They make laments upon the wondrous trees. + +And the good Master: “Ere thou enter farther, + Know that thou art within the second round,” + Thus he began to say, “and shalt be, till + +Thou comest out upon the horrible sand; + Therefore look well around, and thou shalt see + Things that will credence give unto my speech.” + +I heard on all sides lamentations uttered, + And person none beheld I who might make them, + Whence, utterly bewildered, I stood still. + +I think he thought that I perhaps might think + So many voices issued through those trunks + From people who concealed themselves from us; + +Therefore the Master said: “If thou break off + Some little spray from any of these trees, + The thoughts thou hast will wholly be made vain.” + +Then stretched I forth my hand a little forward, + And plucked a branchlet off from a great thorn; + And the trunk cried, “Why dost thou mangle me?” + +After it had become embrowned with blood, + It recommenced its cry: “Why dost thou rend me? + Hast thou no spirit of pity whatsoever? + +Men once we were, and now are changed to trees; + Indeed, thy hand should be more pitiful, + Even if the souls of serpents we had been.” + +As out of a green brand, that is on fire + At one of the ends, and from the other drips + And hisses with the wind that is escaping; + +So from that splinter issued forth together + Both words and blood; whereat I let the tip + Fall, and stood like a man who is afraid. + +“Had he been able sooner to believe,” + My Sage made answer, “O thou wounded soul, + What only in my verses he has seen, + +Not upon thee had he stretched forth his hand; + Whereas the thing incredible has caused me + To put him to an act which grieveth me. + +But tell him who thou wast, so that by way + Of some amends thy fame he may refresh + Up in the world, to which he can return.” + +And the trunk said: “So thy sweet words allure me, + I cannot silent be; and you be vexed not, + That I a little to discourse am tempted. + +I am the one who both keys had in keeping + Of Frederick’s heart, and turned them to and fro + So softly in unlocking and in locking, + +That from his secrets most men I withheld; + Fidelity I bore the glorious office + So great, I lost thereby my sleep and pulses. + +The courtesan who never from the dwelling + Of Caesar turned aside her strumpet eyes, + Death universal and the vice of courts, + +Inflamed against me all the other minds, + And they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus, + That my glad honours turned to dismal mournings. + +My spirit, in disdainful exultation, + Thinking by dying to escape disdain, + Made me unjust against myself, the just. + +I, by the roots unwonted of this wood, + Do swear to you that never broke I faith + Unto my lord, who was so worthy of honour; + +And to the world if one of you return, + Let him my memory comfort, which is lying + Still prostrate from the blow that envy dealt it.” + +Waited awhile, and then: “Since he is silent,” + The Poet said to me, “lose not the time, + But speak, and question him, if more may please thee.” + +Whence I to him: “Do thou again inquire + Concerning what thou thinks’t will satisfy me; + For I cannot, such pity is in my heart.” + +Therefore he recommenced: “So may the man + Do for thee freely what thy speech implores, + Spirit incarcerate, again be pleased + +To tell us in what way the soul is bound + Within these knots; and tell us, if thou canst, + If any from such members e’er is freed.” + +Then blew the trunk amain, and afterward + The wind was into such a voice converted: + “With brevity shall be replied to you. + +When the exasperated soul abandons + The body whence it rent itself away, + Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss. + +It falls into the forest, and no part + Is chosen for it; but where Fortune hurls it, + There like a grain of spelt it germinates. + +It springs a sapling, and a forest tree; + The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves, + Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet. + +Like others for our spoils shall we return; + But not that any one may them revest, + For ’tis not just to have what one casts off. + +Here we shall drag them, and along the dismal + Forest our bodies shall suspended be, + Each to the thorn of his molested shade.” + +We were attentive still unto the trunk, + Thinking that more it yet might wish to tell us, + When by a tumult we were overtaken, + +In the same way as he is who perceives + The boar and chase approaching to his stand, + Who hears the crashing of the beasts and branches; + +And two behold! upon our left-hand side, + Naked and scratched, fleeing so furiously, + That of the forest, every fan they broke. + +He who was in advance: “Now help, Death, help!” + And the other one, who seemed to lag too much, + Was shouting: “Lano, were not so alert + +Those legs of thine at joustings of the Toppo!” + And then, perchance because his breath was failing, + He grouped himself together with a bush. + +Behind them was the forest full of black + She-mastiffs, ravenous, and swift of foot + As greyhounds, who are issuing from the chain. + +On him who had crouched down they set their teeth, + And him they lacerated piece by piece, + Thereafter bore away those aching members. + +Thereat my Escort took me by the hand, + And led me to the bush, that all in vain + Was weeping from its bloody lacerations. + +“O Jacopo,” it said, “of Sant’ Andrea, + What helped it thee of me to make a screen? + What blame have I in thy nefarious life?” + +When near him had the Master stayed his steps, + He said: “Who wast thou, that through wounds so many + Art blowing out with blood thy dolorous speech?” + +And he to us: “O souls, that hither come + To look upon the shameful massacre + That has so rent away from me my leaves, + +Gather them up beneath the dismal bush; + I of that city was which to the Baptist + Changed its first patron, wherefore he for this + +Forever with his art will make it sad. + And were it not that on the pass of Arno + Some glimpses of him are remaining still, + +Those citizens, who afterwards rebuilt it + Upon the ashes left by Attila, + In vain had caused their labour to be done. + +Of my own house I made myself a gibbet.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XIV + + +Because the charity of my native place + Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves, + And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse. + +Then came we to the confine, where disparted + The second round is from the third, and where + A horrible form of Justice is beheld. + +Clearly to manifest these novel things, + I say that we arrived upon a plain, + Which from its bed rejecteth every plant; + +The dolorous forest is a garland to it + All round about, as the sad moat to that; + There close upon the edge we stayed our feet. + +The soil was of an arid and thick sand, + Not of another fashion made than that + Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed. + +Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou + By each one to be dreaded, who doth read + That which was manifest unto mine eyes! + +Of naked souls beheld I many herds, + Who all were weeping very miserably, + And over them seemed set a law diverse. + +Supine upon the ground some folk were lying; + And some were sitting all drawn up together, + And others went about continually. + +Those who were going round were far the more, + And those were less who lay down to their torment, + But had their tongues more loosed to lamentation. + +O’er all the sand-waste, with a gradual fall, + Were raining down dilated flakes of fire, + As of the snow on Alp without a wind. + +As Alexander, in those torrid parts + Of India, beheld upon his host + Flames fall unbroken till they reached the ground. + +Whence he provided with his phalanxes + To trample down the soil, because the vapour + Better extinguished was while it was single; + +Thus was descending the eternal heat, + Whereby the sand was set on fire, like tinder + Beneath the steel, for doubling of the dole. + +Without repose forever was the dance + Of miserable hands, now there, now here, + Shaking away from off them the fresh gleeds. + +“Master,” began I, “thou who overcomest + All things except the demons dire, that issued + Against us at the entrance of the gate, + +Who is that mighty one who seems to heed not + The fire, and lieth lowering and disdainful, + So that the rain seems not to ripen him?” + +And he himself, who had become aware + That I was questioning my Guide about him, + Cried: “Such as I was living, am I, dead. + +If Jove should weary out his smith, from whom + He seized in anger the sharp thunderbolt, + Wherewith upon the last day I was smitten, + +And if he wearied out by turns the others + In Mongibello at the swarthy forge, + Vociferating, ‘Help, good Vulcan, help!’ + +Even as he did there at the fight of Phlegra, + And shot his bolts at me with all his might, + He would not have thereby a joyous vengeance.” + +Then did my Leader speak with such great force, + That I had never heard him speak so loud: + “O Capaneus, in that is not extinguished + +Thine arrogance, thou punished art the more; + Not any torment, saving thine own rage, + Would be unto thy fury pain complete.” + +Then he turned round to me with better lip, + Saying: “One of the Seven Kings was he + Who Thebes besieged, and held, and seems to hold + +God in disdain, and little seems to prize him; + But, as I said to him, his own despites + Are for his breast the fittest ornaments. + +Now follow me, and mind thou do not place + As yet thy feet upon the burning sand, + But always keep them close unto the wood.” + +Speaking no word, we came to where there gushes + Forth from the wood a little rivulet, + Whose redness makes my hair still stand on end. + +As from the Bulicame springs the brooklet, + The sinful women later share among them, + So downward through the sand it went its way. + +The bottom of it, and both sloping banks, + Were made of stone, and the margins at the side; + Whence I perceived that there the passage was. + +“In all the rest which I have shown to thee + Since we have entered in within the gate + Whose threshold unto no one is denied, + +Nothing has been discovered by thine eyes + So notable as is the present river, + Which all the little flames above it quenches.” + +These words were of my Leader; whence I prayed him + That he would give me largess of the food, + For which he had given me largess of desire. + +“In the mid-sea there sits a wasted land,” + Said he thereafterward, “whose name is Crete, + Under whose king the world of old was chaste. + +There is a mountain there, that once was glad + With waters and with leaves, which was called Ida; + Now ’tis deserted, as a thing worn out. + +Rhea once chose it for the faithful cradle + Of her own son; and to conceal him better, + Whene’er he cried, she there had clamours made. + +A grand old man stands in the mount erect, + Who holds his shoulders turned tow’rds Damietta, + And looks at Rome as if it were his mirror. + +His head is fashioned of refined gold, + And of pure silver are the arms and breast; + Then he is brass as far down as the fork. + +From that point downward all is chosen iron, + Save that the right foot is of kiln-baked clay, + And more he stands on that than on the other. + +Each part, except the gold, is by a fissure + Asunder cleft, that dripping is with tears, + Which gathered together perforate that cavern. + +From rock to rock they fall into this valley; + Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon they form; + Then downward go along this narrow sluice + +Unto that point where is no more descending. + They form Cocytus; what that pool may be + Thou shalt behold, so here ’tis not narrated.” + +And I to him: “If so the present runnel + Doth take its rise in this way from our world, + Why only on this verge appears it to us?” + +And he to me: “Thou knowest the place is round, + And notwithstanding thou hast journeyed far, + Still to the left descending to the bottom, + +Thou hast not yet through all the circle turned. + Therefore if something new appear to us, + It should not bring amazement to thy face.” + +And I again: “Master, where shall be found + Lethe and Phlegethon, for of one thou’rt silent, + And sayest the other of this rain is made?” + +“In all thy questions truly thou dost please me,” + Replied he; “but the boiling of the red + Water might well solve one of them thou makest. + +Thou shalt see Lethe, but outside this moat, + There where the souls repair to lave themselves, + When sin repented of has been removed.” + +Then said he: “It is time now to abandon + The wood; take heed that thou come after me; + A way the margins make that are not burning, + +And over them all vapours are extinguished.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XV + + +Now bears us onward one of the hard margins, + And so the brooklet’s mist o’ershadows it, + From fire it saves the water and the dikes. + +Even as the Flemings, ’twixt Cadsand and Bruges, + Fearing the flood that tow’rds them hurls itself, + Their bulwarks build to put the sea to flight; + +And as the Paduans along the Brenta, + To guard their villas and their villages, + Or ever Chiarentana feel the heat; + +In such similitude had those been made, + Albeit not so lofty nor so thick, + Whoever he might be, the master made them. + +Now were we from the forest so remote, + I could not have discovered where it was, + Even if backward I had turned myself, + +When we a company of souls encountered, + Who came beside the dike, and every one + Gazed at us, as at evening we are wont + +To eye each other under a new moon, + And so towards us sharpened they their brows + As an old tailor at the needle’s eye. + +Thus scrutinised by such a family, + By some one I was recognised, who seized + My garment’s hem, and cried out, “What a marvel!” + +And I, when he stretched forth his arm to me, + On his baked aspect fastened so mine eyes, + That the scorched countenance prevented not + +His recognition by my intellect; + And bowing down my face unto his own, + I made reply, “Are you here, Ser Brunetto?” + +And he: “May’t not displease thee, O my son, + If a brief space with thee Brunetto Latini + Backward return and let the trail go on.” + +I said to him: “With all my power I ask it; + And if you wish me to sit down with you, + I will, if he please, for I go with him.” + +“O son,” he said, “whoever of this herd + A moment stops, lies then a hundred years, + Nor fans himself when smiteth him the fire. + +Therefore go on; I at thy skirts will come, + And afterward will I rejoin my band, + Which goes lamenting its eternal doom.” + +I did not dare to go down from the road + Level to walk with him; but my head bowed + I held as one who goeth reverently. + +And he began: “What fortune or what fate + Before the last day leadeth thee down here? + And who is this that showeth thee the way?” + +“Up there above us in the life serene,” + I answered him, “I lost me in a valley, + Or ever yet my age had been completed. + +But yestermorn I turned my back upon it; + This one appeared to me, returning thither, + And homeward leadeth me along this road.” + +And he to me: “If thou thy star do follow, + Thou canst not fail thee of a glorious port, + If well I judged in the life beautiful. + +And if I had not died so prematurely, + Seeing Heaven thus benignant unto thee, + I would have given thee comfort in the work. + +But that ungrateful and malignant people, + Which of old time from Fesole descended, + And smacks still of the mountain and the granite, + +Will make itself, for thy good deeds, thy foe; + And it is right; for among crabbed sorbs + It ill befits the sweet fig to bear fruit. + +Old rumour in the world proclaims them blind; + A people avaricious, envious, proud; + Take heed that of their customs thou do cleanse thee. + +Thy fortune so much honour doth reserve thee, + One party and the other shall be hungry + For thee; but far from goat shall be the grass. + +Their litter let the beasts of Fesole + Make of themselves, nor let them touch the plant, + If any still upon their dunghill rise, + +In which may yet revive the consecrated + Seed of those Romans, who remained there when + The nest of such great malice it became.” + +“If my entreaty wholly were fulfilled,” + Replied I to him, “not yet would you be + In banishment from human nature placed; + +For in my mind is fixed, and touches now + My heart the dear and good paternal image + Of you, when in the world from hour to hour + +You taught me how a man becomes eternal; + And how much I am grateful, while I live + Behoves that in my language be discerned. + +What you narrate of my career I write, + And keep it to be glossed with other text + By a Lady who can do it, if I reach her. + +This much will I have manifest to you; + Provided that my conscience do not chide me, + For whatsoever Fortune I am ready. + +Such handsel is not new unto mine ears; + Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel around + As it may please her, and the churl his mattock.” + +My Master thereupon on his right cheek + Did backward turn himself, and looked at me; + Then said: “He listeneth well who noteth it.” + +Nor speaking less on that account, I go + With Ser Brunetto, and I ask who are + His most known and most eminent companions. + +And he to me: “To know of some is well; + Of others it were laudable to be silent, + For short would be the time for so much speech. + +Know them in sum, that all of them were clerks, + And men of letters great and of great fame, + In the world tainted with the selfsame sin. + +Priscian goes yonder with that wretched crowd, + And Francis of Accorso; and thou hadst seen there + If thou hadst had a hankering for such scurf, + +That one, who by the Servant of the Servants + From Arno was transferred to Bacchiglione, + Where he has left his sin-excited nerves. + +More would I say, but coming and discoursing + Can be no longer; for that I behold + New smoke uprising yonder from the sand. + +A people comes with whom I may not be; + Commended unto thee be my Tesoro, + In which I still live, and no more I ask.” + +Then he turned round, and seemed to be of those + Who at Verona run for the Green Mantle + Across the plain; and seemed to be among them + +The one who wins, and not the one who loses. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XVI + + +Now was I where was heard the reverberation + Of water falling into the next round, + Like to that humming which the beehives make, + +When shadows three together started forth, + Running, from out a company that passed + Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom. + +Towards us came they, and each one cried out: + “Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest + To be some one of our depraved city.” + +Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs, + Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in! + It pains me still but to remember it. + +Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive; + He turned his face towards me, and “Now wait,” + He said; “to these we should be courteous. + +And if it were not for the fire that darts + The nature of this region, I should say + That haste were more becoming thee than them.” + +As soon as we stood still, they recommenced + The old refrain, and when they overtook us, + Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them. + +As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do, + Watching for their advantage and their hold, + Before they come to blows and thrusts between them, + +Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage + Direct to me, so that in opposite wise + His neck and feet continual journey made. + +And, “If the misery of this soft place + Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties,” + Began one, “and our aspect black and blistered, + +Let the renown of us thy mind incline + To tell us who thou art, who thus securely + Thy living feet dost move along through Hell. + +He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading, + Naked and skinless though he now may go, + Was of a greater rank than thou dost think; + +He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada; + His name was Guidoguerra, and in life + Much did he with his wisdom and his sword. + +The other, who close by me treads the sand, + Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame + Above there in the world should welcome be. + +And I, who with them on the cross am placed, + Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly + My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me.” + +Could I have been protected from the fire, + Below I should have thrown myself among them, + And think the Teacher would have suffered it; + +But as I should have burned and baked myself, + My terror overmastered my good will, + Which made me greedy of embracing them. + +Then I began: “Sorrow and not disdain + Did your condition fix within me so, + That tardily it wholly is stripped off, + +As soon as this my Lord said unto me + Words, on account of which I thought within me + That people such as you are were approaching. + +I of your city am; and evermore + Your labours and your honourable names + I with affection have retraced and heard. + +I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits + Promised to me by the veracious Leader; + But to the centre first I needs must plunge.” + +“So may the soul for a long while conduct + Those limbs of thine,” did he make answer then, + “And so may thy renown shine after thee, + +Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell + Within our city, as they used to do, + Or if they wholly have gone out of it; + +For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment + With us of late, and goes there with his comrades, + Doth greatly mortify us with his words.” + +“The new inhabitants and the sudden gains, + Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered, + Florence, so that thou weep’st thereat already!” + +In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted; + And the three, taking that for my reply, + Looked at each other, as one looks at truth. + +“If other times so little it doth cost thee,” + Replied they all, “to satisfy another, + Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will! + +Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places, + And come to rebehold the beauteous stars, + When it shall pleasure thee to say, ‘I was,’ + +See that thou speak of us unto the people.” + Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight + It seemed as if their agile legs were wings. + +Not an Amen could possibly be said + So rapidly as they had disappeared; + Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart. + +I followed him, and little had we gone, + Before the sound of water was so near us, + That speaking we should hardly have been heard. + +Even as that stream which holdeth its own course + The first from Monte Veso tow’rds the East, + Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine, + +Which is above called Acquacheta, ere + It down descendeth into its low bed, + And at Forli is vacant of that name, + +Reverberates there above San Benedetto + From Alps, by falling at a single leap, + Where for a thousand there were room enough; + +Thus downward from a bank precipitate, + We found resounding that dark-tinted water, + So that it soon the ear would have offended. + +I had a cord around about me girt, + And therewithal I whilom had designed + To take the panther with the painted skin. + +After I this had all from me unloosed, + As my Conductor had commanded me, + I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled, + +Whereat he turned himself to the right side, + And at a little distance from the verge, + He cast it down into that deep abyss. + +“It must needs be some novelty respond,” + I said within myself, “to the new signal + The Master with his eye is following so.” + +Ah me! how very cautious men should be + With those who not alone behold the act, + But with their wisdom look into the thoughts! + +He said to me: “Soon there will upward come + What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming + Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight.” + +Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood, + A man should close his lips as far as may be, + Because without his fault it causes shame; + +But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes + Of this my Comedy to thee I swear, + So may they not be void of lasting favour, + +Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere + I saw a figure swimming upward come, + Marvellous unto every steadfast heart, + +Even as he returns who goeth down + Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled + Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden, + +Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XVII + + +“Behold the monster with the pointed tail, + Who cleaves the hills, and breaketh walls and weapons, + Behold him who infecteth all the world.” + +Thus unto me my Guide began to say, + And beckoned him that he should come to shore, + Near to the confine of the trodden marble; + +And that uncleanly image of deceit + Came up and thrust ashore its head and bust, + But on the border did not drag its tail. + +The face was as the face of a just man, + Its semblance outwardly was so benign, + And of a serpent all the trunk beside. + +Two paws it had, hairy unto the armpits; + The back, and breast, and both the sides it had + Depicted o’er with nooses and with shields. + +With colours more, groundwork or broidery + Never in cloth did Tartars make nor Turks, + Nor were such tissues by Arachne laid. + +As sometimes wherries lie upon the shore, + That part are in the water, part on land; + And as among the guzzling Germans there, + +The beaver plants himself to wage his war; + So that vile monster lay upon the border, + Which is of stone, and shutteth in the sand. + +His tail was wholly quivering in the void, + Contorting upwards the envenomed fork, + That in the guise of scorpion armed its point. + +The Guide said: “Now perforce must turn aside + Our way a little, even to that beast + Malevolent, that yonder coucheth him.” + +We therefore on the right side descended, + And made ten steps upon the outer verge, + Completely to avoid the sand and flame; + +And after we are come to him, I see + A little farther off upon the sand + A people sitting near the hollow place. + +Then said to me the Master: “So that full + Experience of this round thou bear away, + Now go and see what their condition is. + +There let thy conversation be concise; + Till thou returnest I will speak with him, + That he concede to us his stalwart shoulders.” + +Thus farther still upon the outermost + Head of that seventh circle all alone + I went, where sat the melancholy folk. + +Out of their eyes was gushing forth their woe; + This way, that way, they helped them with their hands + Now from the flames and now from the hot soil. + +Not otherwise in summer do the dogs, + Now with the foot, now with the muzzle, when + By fleas, or flies, or gadflies, they are bitten. + +When I had turned mine eyes upon the faces + Of some, on whom the dolorous fire is falling, + Not one of them I knew; but I perceived + +That from the neck of each there hung a pouch, + Which certain colour had, and certain blazon; + And thereupon it seems their eyes are feeding. + +And as I gazing round me come among them, + Upon a yellow pouch I azure saw + That had the face and posture of a lion. + +Proceeding then the current of my sight, + Another of them saw I, red as blood, + Display a goose more white than butter is. + +And one, who with an azure sow and gravid + Emblazoned had his little pouch of white, + Said unto me: “What dost thou in this moat? + +Now get thee gone; and since thou’rt still alive, + Know that a neighbour of mine, Vitaliano, + Will have his seat here on my left-hand side. + +A Paduan am I with these Florentines; + Full many a time they thunder in mine ears, + Exclaiming, ‘Come the sovereign cavalier, + +He who shall bring the satchel with three goats;’” + Then twisted he his mouth, and forth he thrust + His tongue, like to an ox that licks its nose. + +And fearing lest my longer stay might vex + Him who had warned me not to tarry long, + Backward I turned me from those weary souls. + +I found my Guide, who had already mounted + Upon the back of that wild animal, + And said to me: “Now be both strong and bold. + +Now we descend by stairways such as these; + Mount thou in front, for I will be midway, + So that the tail may have no power to harm thee.” + +Such as he is who has so near the ague + Of quartan that his nails are blue already, + And trembles all, but looking at the shade; + +Even such became I at those proffered words; + But shame in me his menaces produced, + Which maketh servant strong before good master. + +I seated me upon those monstrous shoulders; + I wished to say, and yet the voice came not + As I believed, “Take heed that thou embrace me.” + +But he, who other times had rescued me + In other peril, soon as I had mounted, + Within his arms encircled and sustained me, + +And said: “Now, Geryon, bestir thyself; + The circles large, and the descent be little; + Think of the novel burden which thou hast.” + +Even as the little vessel shoves from shore, + Backward, still backward, so he thence withdrew; + And when he wholly felt himself afloat, + +There where his breast had been he turned his tail, + And that extended like an eel he moved, + And with his paws drew to himself the air. + +A greater fear I do not think there was + What time abandoned Phaeton the reins, + Whereby the heavens, as still appears, were scorched; + +Nor when the wretched Icarus his flanks + Felt stripped of feathers by the melting wax, + His father crying, “An ill way thou takest!” + +Than was my own, when I perceived myself + On all sides in the air, and saw extinguished + The sight of everything but of the monster. + +Onward he goeth, swimming slowly, slowly; + Wheels and descends, but I perceive it only + By wind upon my face and from below. + +I heard already on the right the whirlpool + Making a horrible crashing under us; + Whence I thrust out my head with eyes cast downward. + +Then was I still more fearful of the abyss; + Because I fires beheld, and heard laments, + Whereat I, trembling, all the closer cling. + +I saw then, for before I had not seen it, + The turning and descending, by great horrors + That were approaching upon divers sides. + +As falcon who has long been on the wing, + Who, without seeing either lure or bird, + Maketh the falconer say, “Ah me, thou stoopest,” + +Descendeth weary, whence he started swiftly, + Thorough a hundred circles, and alights + Far from his master, sullen and disdainful; + +Even thus did Geryon place us on the bottom, + Close to the bases of the rough-hewn rock, + And being disencumbered of our persons, + +He sped away as arrow from the string. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XVIII + + +There is a place in Hell called Malebolge, + Wholly of stone and of an iron colour, + As is the circle that around it turns. + +Right in the middle of the field malign + There yawns a well exceeding wide and deep, + Of which its place the structure will recount. + +Round, then, is that enclosure which remains + Between the well and foot of the high, hard bank, + And has distinct in valleys ten its bottom. + +As where for the protection of the walls + Many and many moats surround the castles, + The part in which they are a figure forms, + +Just such an image those presented there; + And as about such strongholds from their gates + Unto the outer bank are little bridges, + +So from the precipice’s base did crags + Project, which intersected dikes and moats, + Unto the well that truncates and collects them. + +Within this place, down shaken from the back + Of Geryon, we found us; and the Poet + Held to the left, and I moved on behind. + +Upon my right hand I beheld new anguish, + New torments, and new wielders of the lash, + Wherewith the foremost Bolgia was replete. + +Down at the bottom were the sinners naked; + This side the middle came they facing us, + Beyond it, with us, but with greater steps; + +Even as the Romans, for the mighty host, + The year of Jubilee, upon the bridge, + Have chosen a mode to pass the people over; + +For all upon one side towards the Castle + Their faces have, and go unto St. Peter’s; + On the other side they go towards the Mountain. + +This side and that, along the livid stone + Beheld I horned demons with great scourges, + Who cruelly were beating them behind. + +Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs + At the first blows! and sooth not any one + The second waited for, nor for the third. + +While I was going on, mine eyes by one + Encountered were; and straight I said: “Already + With sight of this one I am not unfed.” + +Therefore I stayed my feet to make him out, + And with me the sweet Guide came to a stand, + And to my going somewhat back assented; + +And he, the scourged one, thought to hide himself, + Lowering his face, but little it availed him; + For said I: “Thou that castest down thine eyes, + +If false are not the features which thou bearest, + Thou art Venedico Caccianimico; + But what doth bring thee to such pungent sauces?” + +And he to me: “Unwillingly I tell it; + But forces me thine utterance distinct, + Which makes me recollect the ancient world. + +I was the one who the fair Ghisola + Induced to grant the wishes of the Marquis, + Howe’er the shameless story may be told. + +Not the sole Bolognese am I who weeps here; + Nay, rather is this place so full of them, + That not so many tongues to-day are taught + +’Twixt Reno and Savena to say ‘sipa;’ + And if thereof thou wishest pledge or proof, + Bring to thy mind our avaricious heart.” + +While speaking in this manner, with his scourge + A demon smote him, and said: “Get thee gone + Pander, there are no women here for coin.” + +I joined myself again unto mine Escort; + Thereafterward with footsteps few we came + To where a crag projected from the bank. + +This very easily did we ascend, + And turning to the right along its ridge, + From those eternal circles we departed. + +When we were there, where it is hollowed out + Beneath, to give a passage to the scourged, + The Guide said: “Wait, and see that on thee strike + +The vision of those others evil-born, + Of whom thou hast not yet beheld the faces, + Because together with us they have gone.” + +From the old bridge we looked upon the train + Which tow’rds us came upon the other border, + And which the scourges in like manner smite. + +And the good Master, without my inquiring, + Said to me: “See that tall one who is coming, + And for his pain seems not to shed a tear; + +Still what a royal aspect he retains! + That Jason is, who by his heart and cunning + The Colchians of the Ram made destitute. + +He by the isle of Lemnos passed along + After the daring women pitiless + Had unto death devoted all their males. + +There with his tokens and with ornate words + Did he deceive Hypsipyle, the maiden + Who first, herself, had all the rest deceived. + +There did he leave her pregnant and forlorn; + Such sin unto such punishment condemns him, + And also for Medea is vengeance done. + +With him go those who in such wise deceive; + And this sufficient be of the first valley + To know, and those that in its jaws it holds.” + +We were already where the narrow path + Crosses athwart the second dike, and forms + Of that a buttress for another arch. + +Thence we heard people, who are making moan + In the next Bolgia, snorting with their muzzles, + And with their palms beating upon themselves + +The margins were incrusted with a mould + By exhalation from below, that sticks there, + And with the eyes and nostrils wages war. + +The bottom is so deep, no place suffices + To give us sight of it, without ascending + The arch’s back, where most the crag impends. + +Thither we came, and thence down in the moat + I saw a people smothered in a filth + That out of human privies seemed to flow; + +And whilst below there with mine eye I search, + I saw one with his head so foul with ordure, + It was not clear if he were clerk or layman. + +He screamed to me: “Wherefore art thou so eager + To look at me more than the other foul ones?” + And I to him: “Because, if I remember, + +I have already seen thee with dry hair, + And thou’rt Alessio Interminei of Lucca; + Therefore I eye thee more than all the others.” + +And he thereon, belabouring his pumpkin: + “The flatteries have submerged me here below, + Wherewith my tongue was never surfeited.” + +Then said to me the Guide: “See that thou thrust + Thy visage somewhat farther in advance, + That with thine eyes thou well the face attain + +Of that uncleanly and dishevelled drab, + Who there doth scratch herself with filthy nails, + And crouches now, and now on foot is standing. + +Thais the harlot is it, who replied + Unto her paramour, when he said, ‘Have I + Great gratitude from thee?’—‘Nay, marvellous;’ + +And herewith let our sight be satisfied.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XIX + + +O Simon Magus, O forlorn disciples, + Ye who the things of God, which ought to be + The brides of holiness, rapaciously + +For silver and for gold do prostitute, + Now it behoves for you the trumpet sound, + Because in this third Bolgia ye abide. + +We had already on the following tomb + Ascended to that portion of the crag + Which o’er the middle of the moat hangs plumb. + +Wisdom supreme, O how great art thou showest + In heaven, in earth, and in the evil world, + And with what justice doth thy power distribute! + +I saw upon the sides and on the bottom + The livid stone with perforations filled, + All of one size, and every one was round. + +To me less ample seemed they not, nor greater + Than those that in my beautiful Saint John + Are fashioned for the place of the baptisers, + +And one of which, not many years ago, + I broke for some one, who was drowning in it; + Be this a seal all men to undeceive. + +Out of the mouth of each one there protruded + The feet of a transgressor, and the legs + Up to the calf, the rest within remained. + +In all of them the soles were both on fire; + Wherefore the joints so violently quivered, + They would have snapped asunder withes and bands. + +Even as the flame of unctuous things is wont + To move upon the outer surface only, + So likewise was it there from heel to point. + +“Master, who is that one who writhes himself, + More than his other comrades quivering,” + I said, “and whom a redder flame is sucking?” + +And he to me: “If thou wilt have me bear thee + Down there along that bank which lowest lies, + From him thou’lt know his errors and himself.” + +And I: “What pleases thee, to me is pleasing; + Thou art my Lord, and knowest that I depart not + From thy desire, and knowest what is not spoken.” + +Straightway upon the fourth dike we arrived; + We turned, and on the left-hand side descended + Down to the bottom full of holes and narrow. + +And the good Master yet from off his haunch + Deposed me not, till to the hole he brought me + Of him who so lamented with his shanks. + +“Whoe’er thou art, that standest upside down, + O doleful soul, implanted like a stake,” + To say began I, “if thou canst, speak out.” + +I stood even as the friar who is confessing + The false assassin, who, when he is fixed, + Recalls him, so that death may be delayed. + +And he cried out: “Dost thou stand there already, + Dost thou stand there already, Boniface? + By many years the record lied to me. + +Art thou so early satiate with that wealth, + For which thou didst not fear to take by fraud + The beautiful Lady, and then work her woe?” + +Such I became, as people are who stand, + Not comprehending what is answered them, + As if bemocked, and know not how to answer. + +Then said Virgilius: “Say to him straightway, + ‘I am not he, I am not he thou thinkest.’” + And I replied as was imposed on me. + +Whereat the spirit writhed with both his feet, + Then, sighing, with a voice of lamentation + Said to me: “Then what wantest thou of me? + +If who I am thou carest so much to know, + That thou on that account hast crossed the bank, + Know that I vested was with the great mantle; + +And truly was I son of the She-bear, + So eager to advance the cubs, that wealth + Above, and here myself, I pocketed. + +Beneath my head the others are dragged down + Who have preceded me in simony, + Flattened along the fissure of the rock. + +Below there I shall likewise fall, whenever + That one shall come who I believed thou wast, + What time the sudden question I proposed. + +But longer I my feet already toast, + And here have been in this way upside down, + Than he will planted stay with reddened feet; + +For after him shall come of fouler deed + From tow’rds the west a Pastor without law, + Such as befits to cover him and me. + +New Jason will he be, of whom we read + In Maccabees; and as his king was pliant, + So he who governs France shall be to this one.” + +I do not know if I were here too bold, + That him I answered only in this metre: + “I pray thee tell me now how great a treasure + +Our Lord demanded of Saint Peter first, + Before he put the keys into his keeping? + Truly he nothing asked but ‘Follow me.’ + +Nor Peter nor the rest asked of Matthias + Silver or gold, when he by lot was chosen + Unto the place the guilty soul had lost. + +Therefore stay here, for thou art justly punished, + And keep safe guard o’er the ill-gotten money, + Which caused thee to be valiant against Charles. + +And were it not that still forbids it me + The reverence for the keys superlative + Thou hadst in keeping in the gladsome life, + +I would make use of words more grievous still; + Because your avarice afflicts the world, + Trampling the good and lifting the depraved. + +The Evangelist you Pastors had in mind, + When she who sitteth upon many waters + To fornicate with kings by him was seen; + +The same who with the seven heads was born, + And power and strength from the ten horns received, + So long as virtue to her spouse was pleasing. + +Ye have made yourselves a god of gold and silver; + And from the idolater how differ ye, + Save that he one, and ye a hundred worship? + +Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was mother, + Not thy conversion, but that marriage dower + Which the first wealthy Father took from thee!” + +And while I sang to him such notes as these, + Either that anger or that conscience stung him, + He struggled violently with both his feet. + +I think in sooth that it my Leader pleased, + With such contented lip he listened ever + Unto the sound of the true words expressed. + +Therefore with both his arms he took me up, + And when he had me all upon his breast, + Remounted by the way where he descended. + +Nor did he tire to have me clasped to him; + But bore me to the summit of the arch + Which from the fourth dike to the fifth is passage. + +There tenderly he laid his burden down, + Tenderly on the crag uneven and steep, + That would have been hard passage for the goats: + +Thence was unveiled to me another valley. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XX + + +Of a new pain behoves me to make verses + And give material to the twentieth canto + Of the first song, which is of the submerged. + +I was already thoroughly disposed + To peer down into the uncovered depth, + Which bathed itself with tears of agony; + +And people saw I through the circular valley, + Silent and weeping, coming at the pace + Which in this world the Litanies assume. + +As lower down my sight descended on them, + Wondrously each one seemed to be distorted + From chin to the beginning of the chest; + +For tow’rds the reins the countenance was turned, + And backward it behoved them to advance, + As to look forward had been taken from them. + +Perchance indeed by violence of palsy + Some one has been thus wholly turned awry; + But I ne’er saw it, nor believe it can be. + +As God may let thee, Reader, gather fruit + From this thy reading, think now for thyself + How I could ever keep my face unmoistened, + +When our own image near me I beheld + Distorted so, the weeping of the eyes + Along the fissure bathed the hinder parts. + +Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak + Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said + To me: “Art thou, too, of the other fools? + +Here pity lives when it is wholly dead; + Who is a greater reprobate than he + Who feels compassion at the doom divine? + +Lift up, lift up thy head, and see for whom + Opened the earth before the Thebans’ eyes; + Wherefore they all cried: ‘Whither rushest thou, + +Amphiaraus? Why dost leave the war?’ + And downward ceased he not to fall amain + As far as Minos, who lays hold on all. + +See, he has made a bosom of his shoulders! + Because he wished to see too far before him + Behind he looks, and backward goes his way: + +Behold Tiresias, who his semblance changed, + When from a male a female he became, + His members being all of them transformed; + +And afterwards was forced to strike once more + The two entangled serpents with his rod, + Ere he could have again his manly plumes. + +That Aruns is, who backs the other’s belly, + Who in the hills of Luni, there where grubs + The Carrarese who houses underneath, + +Among the marbles white a cavern had + For his abode; whence to behold the stars + And sea, the view was not cut off from him. + +And she there, who is covering up her breasts, + Which thou beholdest not, with loosened tresses, + And on that side has all the hairy skin, + +Was Manto, who made quest through many lands, + Afterwards tarried there where I was born; + Whereof I would thou list to me a little. + +After her father had from life departed, + And the city of Bacchus had become enslaved, + She a long season wandered through the world. + +Above in beauteous Italy lies a lake + At the Alp’s foot that shuts in Germany + Over Tyrol, and has the name Benaco. + +By a thousand springs, I think, and more, is bathed, + ’Twixt Garda and Val Camonica, Pennino, + With water that grows stagnant in that lake. + +Midway a place is where the Trentine Pastor, + And he of Brescia, and the Veronese + Might give his blessing, if he passed that way. + +Sitteth Peschiera, fortress fair and strong, + To front the Brescians and the Bergamasks, + Where round about the bank descendeth lowest. + +There of necessity must fall whatever + In bosom of Benaco cannot stay, + And grows a river down through verdant pastures. + +Soon as the water doth begin to run, + No more Benaco is it called, but Mincio, + Far as Governo, where it falls in Po. + +Not far it runs before it finds a plain + In which it spreads itself, and makes it marshy, + And oft ’tis wont in summer to be sickly. + +Passing that way the virgin pitiless + Land in the middle of the fen descried, + Untilled and naked of inhabitants; + +There to escape all human intercourse, + She with her servants stayed, her arts to practise + And lived, and left her empty body there. + +The men, thereafter, who were scattered round, + Collected in that place, which was made strong + By the lagoon it had on every side; + +They built their city over those dead bones, + And, after her who first the place selected, + Mantua named it, without other omen. + +Its people once within more crowded were, + Ere the stupidity of Casalodi + From Pinamonte had received deceit. + +Therefore I caution thee, if e’er thou hearest + Originate my city otherwise, + No falsehood may the verity defraud.” + +And I: “My Master, thy discourses are + To me so certain, and so take my faith, + That unto me the rest would be spent coals. + +But tell me of the people who are passing, + If any one note-worthy thou beholdest, + For only unto that my mind reverts.” + +Then said he to me: “He who from the cheek + Thrusts out his beard upon his swarthy shoulders + Was, at the time when Greece was void of males, + +So that there scarce remained one in the cradle, + An augur, and with Calchas gave the moment, + In Aulis, when to sever the first cable. + +Eryphylus his name was, and so sings + My lofty Tragedy in some part or other; + That knowest thou well, who knowest the whole of it. + +The next, who is so slender in the flanks, + Was Michael Scott, who of a verity + Of magical illusions knew the game. + +Behold Guido Bonatti, behold Asdente, + Who now unto his leather and his thread + Would fain have stuck, but he too late repents. + +Behold the wretched ones, who left the needle, + The spool and rock, and made them fortune-tellers; + They wrought their magic spells with herb and image. + +But come now, for already holds the confines + Of both the hemispheres, and under Seville + Touches the ocean-wave, Cain and the thorns, + +And yesternight the moon was round already; + Thou shouldst remember well it did not harm thee + From time to time within the forest deep.” + +Thus spake he to me, and we walked the while. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXI + + +From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things + Of which my Comedy cares not to sing, + We came along, and held the summit, when + +We halted to behold another fissure + Of Malebolge and other vain laments; + And I beheld it marvellously dark. + +As in the Arsenal of the Venetians + Boils in the winter the tenacious pitch + To smear their unsound vessels o’er again, + +For sail they cannot; and instead thereof + One makes his vessel new, and one recaulks + The ribs of that which many a voyage has made; + +One hammers at the prow, one at the stern, + This one makes oars, and that one cordage twists, + Another mends the mainsail and the mizzen; + +Thus, not by fire, but by the art divine, + Was boiling down below there a dense pitch + Which upon every side the bank belimed. + +I saw it, but I did not see within it + Aught but the bubbles that the boiling raised, + And all swell up and resubside compressed. + +The while below there fixedly I gazed, + My Leader, crying out: “Beware, beware!” + Drew me unto himself from where I stood. + +Then I turned round, as one who is impatient + To see what it behoves him to escape, + And whom a sudden terror doth unman, + +Who, while he looks, delays not his departure; + And I beheld behind us a black devil, + Running along upon the crag, approach. + +Ah, how ferocious was he in his aspect! + And how he seemed to me in action ruthless, + With open wings and light upon his feet! + +His shoulders, which sharp-pointed were and high, + A sinner did encumber with both haunches, + And he held clutched the sinews of the feet. + +From off our bridge, he said: “O Malebranche, + Behold one of the elders of Saint Zita; + Plunge him beneath, for I return for others + +Unto that town, which is well furnished with them. + All there are barrators, except Bonturo; + No into Yes for money there is changed.” + +He hurled him down, and over the hard crag + Turned round, and never was a mastiff loosened + In so much hurry to pursue a thief. + +The other sank, and rose again face downward; + But the demons, under cover of the bridge, + Cried: “Here the Santo Volto has no place! + +Here swims one otherwise than in the Serchio; + Therefore, if for our gaffs thou wishest not, + Do not uplift thyself above the pitch.” + +They seized him then with more than a hundred rakes; + They said: “It here behoves thee to dance covered, + That, if thou canst, thou secretly mayest pilfer.” + +Not otherwise the cooks their scullions make + Immerse into the middle of the caldron + The meat with hooks, so that it may not float. + +Said the good Master to me: “That it be not + Apparent thou art here, crouch thyself down + Behind a jag, that thou mayest have some screen; + +And for no outrage that is done to me + Be thou afraid, because these things I know, + For once before was I in such a scuffle.” + +Then he passed on beyond the bridge’s head, + And as upon the sixth bank he arrived, + Need was for him to have a steadfast front. + +With the same fury, and the same uproar, + As dogs leap out upon a mendicant, + Who on a sudden begs, where’er he stops, + +They issued from beneath the little bridge, + And turned against him all their grappling-irons; + But he cried out: “Be none of you malignant! + +Before those hooks of yours lay hold of me, + Let one of you step forward, who may hear me, + And then take counsel as to grappling me.” + +They all cried out: “Let Malacoda go;” + Whereat one started, and the rest stood still, + And he came to him, saying: “What avails it?” + +“Thinkest thou, Malacoda, to behold me + Advanced into this place,” my Master said, + “Safe hitherto from all your skill of fence, + +Without the will divine, and fate auspicious? + Let me go on, for it in Heaven is willed + That I another show this savage road.” + +Then was his arrogance so humbled in him, + That he let fall his grapnel at his feet, + And to the others said: “Now strike him not.” + +And unto me my Guide: “O thou, who sittest + Among the splinters of the bridge crouched down, + Securely now return to me again.” + +Wherefore I started and came swiftly to him; + And all the devils forward thrust themselves, + So that I feared they would not keep their compact. + +And thus beheld I once afraid the soldiers + Who issued under safeguard from Caprona, + Seeing themselves among so many foes. + +Close did I press myself with all my person + Beside my Leader, and turned not mine eyes + From off their countenance, which was not good. + +They lowered their rakes, and “Wilt thou have me hit him,” + They said to one another, “on the rump?” + And answered: “Yes; see that thou nick him with it.” + +But the same demon who was holding parley + With my Conductor turned him very quickly, + And said: “Be quiet, be quiet, Scarmiglione;” + +Then said to us: “You can no farther go + Forward upon this crag, because is lying + All shattered, at the bottom, the sixth arch. + +And if it still doth please you to go onward, + Pursue your way along upon this rock; + Near is another crag that yields a path. + +Yesterday, five hours later than this hour, + One thousand and two hundred sixty-six + Years were complete, that here the way was broken. + +I send in that direction some of mine + To see if any one doth air himself; + Go ye with them; for they will not be vicious. + +Step forward, Alichino and Calcabrina,” + Began he to cry out, “and thou, Cagnazzo; + And Barbariccia, do thou guide the ten. + +Come forward, Libicocco and Draghignazzo, + And tusked Ciriatto and Graffiacane, + And Farfarello and mad Rubicante; + +Search ye all round about the boiling pitch; + Let these be safe as far as the next crag, + That all unbroken passes o’er the dens.” + +“O me! what is it, Master, that I see? + Pray let us go,” I said, “without an escort, + If thou knowest how, since for myself I ask none. + +If thou art as observant as thy wont is, + Dost thou not see that they do gnash their teeth, + And with their brows are threatening woe to us?” + +And he to me: “I will not have thee fear; + Let them gnash on, according to their fancy, + Because they do it for those boiling wretches.” + +Along the left-hand dike they wheeled about; + But first had each one thrust his tongue between + His teeth towards their leader for a signal; + +And he had made a trumpet of his rump. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXII + + +I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp, + Begin the storming, and their muster make, + And sometimes starting off for their escape; + +Vaunt-couriers have I seen upon your land, + O Aretines, and foragers go forth, + Tournaments stricken, and the joustings run, + +Sometimes with trumpets and sometimes with bells, + With kettle-drums, and signals of the castles, + And with our own, and with outlandish things, + +But never yet with bagpipe so uncouth + Did I see horsemen move, nor infantry, + Nor ship by any sign of land or star. + +We went upon our way with the ten demons; + Ah, savage company! but in the church + With saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons! + +Ever upon the pitch was my intent, + To see the whole condition of that Bolgia, + And of the people who therein were burned. + +Even as the dolphins, when they make a sign + To mariners by arching of the back, + That they should counsel take to save their vessel, + +Thus sometimes, to alleviate his pain, + One of the sinners would display his back, + And in less time conceal it than it lightens. + +As on the brink of water in a ditch + The frogs stand only with their muzzles out, + So that they hide their feet and other bulk, + +So upon every side the sinners stood; + But ever as Barbariccia near them came, + Thus underneath the boiling they withdrew. + +I saw, and still my heart doth shudder at it, + One waiting thus, even as it comes to pass + One frog remains, and down another dives; + +And Graffiacan, who most confronted him, + Grappled him by his tresses smeared with pitch, + And drew him up, so that he seemed an otter. + +I knew, before, the names of all of them, + So had I noted them when they were chosen, + And when they called each other, listened how. + +“O Rubicante, see that thou do lay + Thy claws upon him, so that thou mayst flay him,” + Cried all together the accursed ones. + +And I: “My Master, see to it, if thou canst, + That thou mayst know who is the luckless wight, + Thus come into his adversaries’ hands.” + +Near to the side of him my Leader drew, + Asked of him whence he was; and he replied: + “I in the kingdom of Navarre was born; + +My mother placed me servant to a lord, + For she had borne me to a ribald knave, + Destroyer of himself and of his things. + +Then I domestic was of good King Thibault; + I set me there to practise barratry, + For which I pay the reckoning in this heat.” + +And Ciriatto, from whose mouth projected, + On either side, a tusk, as in a boar, + Caused him to feel how one of them could rip. + +Among malicious cats the mouse had come; + But Barbariccia clasped him in his arms, + And said: “Stand ye aside, while I enfork him.” + +And to my Master he turned round his head; + “Ask him again,” he said, “if more thou wish + To know from him, before some one destroy him.” + +The Guide: “Now tell then of the other culprits; + Knowest thou any one who is a Latian, + Under the pitch?” And he: “I separated + +Lately from one who was a neighbour to it; + Would that I still were covered up with him, + For I should fear not either claw nor hook!” + +And Libicocco: “We have borne too much;” + And with his grapnel seized him by the arm, + So that, by rending, he tore off a tendon. + +Eke Draghignazzo wished to pounce upon him + Down at the legs; whence their Decurion + Turned round and round about with evil look. + +When they again somewhat were pacified, + Of him, who still was looking at his wound, + Demanded my Conductor without stay: + +“Who was that one, from whom a luckless parting + Thou sayest thou hast made, to come ashore?” + And he replied: “It was the Friar Gomita, + +He of Gallura, vessel of all fraud, + Who had the enemies of his Lord in hand, + And dealt so with them each exults thereat; + +Money he took, and let them smoothly off, + As he says; and in other offices + A barrator was he, not mean but sovereign. + +Foregathers with him one Don Michael Zanche + Of Logodoro; and of Sardinia + To gossip never do their tongues feel tired. + +O me! see that one, how he grinds his teeth; + Still farther would I speak, but am afraid + Lest he to scratch my itch be making ready.” + +And the grand Provost, turned to Farfarello, + Who rolled his eyes about as if to strike, + Said: “Stand aside there, thou malicious bird.” + +“If you desire either to see or hear,” + The terror-stricken recommenced thereon, + “Tuscans or Lombards, I will make them come. + +But let the Malebranche cease a little, + So that these may not their revenges fear, + And I, down sitting in this very place, + +For one that I am will make seven come, + When I shall whistle, as our custom is + To do whenever one of us comes out.” + +Cagnazzo at these words his muzzle lifted, + Shaking his head, and said: “Just hear the trick + Which he has thought of, down to throw himself!” + +Whence he, who snares in great abundance had, + Responded: “I by far too cunning am, + When I procure for mine a greater sadness.” + +Alichin held not in, but running counter + Unto the rest, said to him: “If thou dive, + I will not follow thee upon the gallop, + +But I will beat my wings above the pitch; + The height be left, and be the bank a shield + To see if thou alone dost countervail us.” + +O thou who readest, thou shalt hear new sport! + Each to the other side his eyes averted; + He first, who most reluctant was to do it. + +The Navarrese selected well his time; + Planted his feet on land, and in a moment + Leaped, and released himself from their design. + +Whereat each one was suddenly stung with shame, + But he most who was cause of the defeat; + Therefore he moved, and cried: “Thou art o’ertakern.” + +But little it availed, for wings could not + Outstrip the fear; the other one went under, + And, flying, upward he his breast directed; + +Not otherwise the duck upon a sudden + Dives under, when the falcon is approaching, + And upward he returneth cross and weary. + +Infuriate at the mockery, Calcabrina + Flying behind him followed close, desirous + The other should escape, to have a quarrel. + +And when the barrator had disappeared, + He turned his talons upon his companion, + And grappled with him right above the moat. + +But sooth the other was a doughty sparhawk + To clapperclaw him well; and both of them + Fell in the middle of the boiling pond. + +A sudden intercessor was the heat; + But ne’ertheless of rising there was naught, + To such degree they had their wings belimed. + +Lamenting with the others, Barbariccia + Made four of them fly to the other side + With all their gaffs, and very speedily + +This side and that they to their posts descended; + They stretched their hooks towards the pitch-ensnared, + Who were already baked within the crust, + +And in this manner busied did we leave them. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXIII + + +Silent, alone, and without company + We went, the one in front, the other after, + As go the Minor Friars along their way. + +Upon the fable of Aesop was directed + My thought, by reason of the present quarrel, + Where he has spoken of the frog and mouse; + +For ‘mo’ and ‘issa’ are not more alike + Than this one is to that, if well we couple + End and beginning with a steadfast mind. + +And even as one thought from another springs, + So afterward from that was born another, + Which the first fear within me double made. + +Thus did I ponder: “These on our account + Are laughed to scorn, with injury and scoff + So great, that much I think it must annoy them. + +If anger be engrafted on ill-will, + They will come after us more merciless + Than dog upon the leveret which he seizes,” + +I felt my hair stand all on end already + With terror, and stood backwardly intent, + When said I: “Master, if thou hidest not + +Thyself and me forthwith, of Malebranche + I am in dread; we have them now behind us; + I so imagine them, I already feel them.” + +And he: “If I were made of leaded glass, + Thine outward image I should not attract + Sooner to me than I imprint the inner. + +Just now thy thoughts came in among my own, + With similar attitude and similar face, + So that of both one counsel sole I made. + +If peradventure the right bank so slope + That we to the next Bolgia can descend, + We shall escape from the imagined chase.” + +Not yet he finished rendering such opinion, + When I beheld them come with outstretched wings, + Not far remote, with will to seize upon us. + +My Leader on a sudden seized me up, + Even as a mother who by noise is wakened, + And close beside her sees the enkindled flames, + +Who takes her son, and flies, and does not stop, + Having more care of him than of herself, + So that she clothes her only with a shift; + +And downward from the top of the hard bank + Supine he gave him to the pendent rock, + That one side of the other Bolgia walls. + +Ne’er ran so swiftly water through a sluice + To turn the wheel of any land-built mill, + When nearest to the paddles it approaches, + +As did my Master down along that border, + Bearing me with him on his breast away, + As his own son, and not as a companion. + +Hardly the bed of the ravine below + His feet had reached, ere they had reached the hill + Right over us; but he was not afraid; + +For the high Providence, which had ordained + To place them ministers of the fifth moat, + The power of thence departing took from all. + +A painted people there below we found, + Who went about with footsteps very slow, + Weeping and in their semblance tired and vanquished. + +They had on mantles with the hoods low down + Before their eyes, and fashioned of the cut + That in Cologne they for the monks are made. + +Without, they gilded are so that it dazzles; + But inwardly all leaden and so heavy + That Frederick used to put them on of straw. + +O everlastingly fatiguing mantle! + Again we turned us, still to the left hand + Along with them, intent on their sad plaint; + +But owing to the weight, that weary folk + Came on so tardily, that we were new + In company at each motion of the haunch. + +Whence I unto my Leader: “See thou find + Some one who may by deed or name be known, + And thus in going move thine eye about.” + +And one, who understood the Tuscan speech, + Cried to us from behind: “Stay ye your feet, + Ye, who so run athwart the dusky air! + +Perhaps thou’lt have from me what thou demandest.” + Whereat the Leader turned him, and said: “Wait, + And then according to his pace proceed.” + +I stopped, and two beheld I show great haste + Of spirit, in their faces, to be with me; + But the burden and the narrow way delayed them. + +When they came up, long with an eye askance + They scanned me without uttering a word. + Then to each other turned, and said together: + +“He by the action of his throat seems living; + And if they dead are, by what privilege + Go they uncovered by the heavy stole?” + +Then said to me: “Tuscan, who to the college + Of miserable hypocrites art come, + Do not disdain to tell us who thou art.” + +And I to them: “Born was I, and grew up + In the great town on the fair river of Arno, + And with the body am I’ve always had. + +But who are ye, in whom there trickles down + Along your cheeks such grief as I behold? + And what pain is upon you, that so sparkles?” + +And one replied to me: “These orange cloaks + Are made of lead so heavy, that the weights + Cause in this way their balances to creak. + +Frati Gaudenti were we, and Bolognese; + I Catalano, and he Loderingo + Named, and together taken by thy city, + +As the wont is to take one man alone, + For maintenance of its peace; and we were such + That still it is apparent round Gardingo.” + +“O Friars,” began I, “your iniquitous. . .” + But said no more; for to mine eyes there rushed + One crucified with three stakes on the ground. + +When me he saw, he writhed himself all over, + Blowing into his beard with suspirations; + And the Friar Catalan, who noticed this, + +Said to me: “This transfixed one, whom thou seest, + Counselled the Pharisees that it was meet + To put one man to torture for the people. + +Crosswise and naked is he on the path, + As thou perceivest; and he needs must feel, + Whoever passes, first how much he weighs; + +And in like mode his father-in-law is punished + Within this moat, and the others of the council, + Which for the Jews was a malignant seed.” + +And thereupon I saw Virgilius marvel + O’er him who was extended on the cross + So vilely in eternal banishment. + +Then he directed to the Friar this voice: + “Be not displeased, if granted thee, to tell us + If to the right hand any pass slope down + +By which we two may issue forth from here, + Without constraining some of the black angels + To come and extricate us from this deep.” + +Then he made answer: “Nearer than thou hopest + There is a rock, that forth from the great circle + Proceeds, and crosses all the cruel valleys, + +Save that at this ’tis broken, and does not bridge it; + You will be able to mount up the ruin, + That sidelong slopes and at the bottom rises.” + +The Leader stood awhile with head bowed down; + Then said: “The business badly he recounted + Who grapples with his hook the sinners yonder.” + +And the Friar: “Many of the Devil’s vices + Once heard I at Bologna, and among them, + That he’s a liar and the father of lies.” + +Thereat my Leader with great strides went on, + Somewhat disturbed with anger in his looks; + Whence from the heavy-laden I departed + +After the prints of his beloved feet. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXIV + + +In that part of the youthful year wherein + The Sun his locks beneath Aquarius tempers, + And now the nights draw near to half the day, + +What time the hoar-frost copies on the ground + The outward semblance of her sister white, + But little lasts the temper of her pen, + +The husbandman, whose forage faileth him, + Rises, and looks, and seeth the champaign + All gleaming white, whereat he beats his flank, + +Returns in doors, and up and down laments, + Like a poor wretch, who knows not what to do; + Then he returns and hope revives again, + +Seeing the world has changed its countenance + In little time, and takes his shepherd’s crook, + And forth the little lambs to pasture drives. + +Thus did the Master fill me with alarm, + When I beheld his forehead so disturbed, + And to the ailment came as soon the plaster. + +For as we came unto the ruined bridge, + The Leader turned to me with that sweet look + Which at the mountain’s foot I first beheld. + +His arms he opened, after some advisement + Within himself elected, looking first + Well at the ruin, and laid hold of me. + +And even as he who acts and meditates, + For aye it seems that he provides beforehand, + So upward lifting me towards the summit + +Of a huge rock, he scanned another crag, + Saying: “To that one grapple afterwards, + But try first if ’tis such that it will hold thee.” + +This was no way for one clothed with a cloak; + For hardly we, he light, and I pushed upward, + Were able to ascend from jag to jag. + +And had it not been, that upon that precinct + Shorter was the ascent than on the other, + He I know not, but I had been dead beat. + +But because Malebolge tow’rds the mouth + Of the profoundest well is all inclining, + The structure of each valley doth import + +That one bank rises and the other sinks. + Still we arrived at length upon the point + Wherefrom the last stone breaks itself asunder. + +The breath was from my lungs so milked away, + When I was up, that I could go no farther, + Nay, I sat down upon my first arrival. + +“Now it behoves thee thus to put off sloth,” + My Master said; “for sitting upon down, + Or under quilt, one cometh not to fame, + +Withouten which whoso his life consumes + Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, + As smoke in air or in the water foam. + +And therefore raise thee up, o’ercome the anguish + With spirit that o’ercometh every battle, + If with its heavy body it sink not. + +A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; + ’Tis not enough from these to have departed; + Let it avail thee, if thou understand me.” + +Then I uprose, showing myself provided + Better with breath than I did feel myself, + And said: “Go on, for I am strong and bold.” + +Upward we took our way along the crag, + Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, + And more precipitous far than that before. + +Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; + Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, + Not well adapted to articulate words. + +I know not what it said, though o’er the back + I now was of the arch that passes there; + But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking. + +I was bent downward, but my living eyes + Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; + Wherefore I: “Master, see that thou arrive + +At the next round, and let us descend the wall; + For as from hence I hear and understand not, + So I look down and nothing I distinguish.” + +“Other response,” he said, “I make thee not, + Except the doing; for the modest asking + Ought to be followed by the deed in silence.” + +We from the bridge descended at its head, + Where it connects itself with the eighth bank, + And then was manifest to me the Bolgia; + +And I beheld therein a terrible throng + Of serpents, and of such a monstrous kind, + That the remembrance still congeals my blood + +Let Libya boast no longer with her sand; + For if Chelydri, Jaculi, and Phareae + She breeds, with Cenchri and with Amphisbaena, + +Neither so many plagues nor so malignant + E’er showed she with all Ethiopia, + Nor with whatever on the Red Sea is! + +Among this cruel and most dismal throng + People were running naked and affrighted. + Without the hope of hole or heliotrope. + +They had their hands with serpents bound behind them; + These riveted upon their reins the tail + And head, and were in front of them entwined. + +And lo! at one who was upon our side + There darted forth a serpent, which transfixed him + There where the neck is knotted to the shoulders. + +Nor ‘O’ so quickly e’er, nor ‘I’ was written, + As he took fire, and burned; and ashes wholly + Behoved it that in falling he became. + +And when he on the ground was thus destroyed, + The ashes drew together, and of themselves + Into himself they instantly returned. + +Even thus by the great sages ’tis confessed + The phoenix dies, and then is born again, + When it approaches its five-hundredth year; + +On herb or grain it feeds not in its life, + But only on tears of incense and amomum, + And nard and myrrh are its last winding-sheet. + +And as he is who falls, and knows not how, + By force of demons who to earth down drag him, + Or other oppilation that binds man, + +When he arises and around him looks, + Wholly bewildered by the mighty anguish + Which he has suffered, and in looking sighs; + +Such was that sinner after he had risen. + Justice of God! O how severe it is, + That blows like these in vengeance poureth down! + +The Guide thereafter asked him who he was; + Whence he replied: “I rained from Tuscany + A short time since into this cruel gorge. + +A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me, + Even as the mule I was; I’m Vanni Fucci, + Beast, and Pistoia was my worthy den.” + +And I unto the Guide: “Tell him to stir not, + And ask what crime has thrust him here below, + For once a man of blood and wrath I saw him.” + +And the sinner, who had heard, dissembled not, + But unto me directed mind and face, + And with a melancholy shame was painted. + +Then said: “It pains me more that thou hast caught me + Amid this misery where thou seest me, + Than when I from the other life was taken. + +What thou demandest I cannot deny; + So low am I put down because I robbed + The sacristy of the fair ornaments, + +And falsely once ’twas laid upon another; + But that thou mayst not such a sight enjoy, + If thou shalt e’er be out of the dark places, + +Thine ears to my announcement ope and hear: + Pistoia first of Neri groweth meagre; + Then Florence doth renew her men and manners; + +Mars draws a vapour up from Val di Magra, + Which is with turbid clouds enveloped round, + And with impetuous and bitter tempest + +Over Campo Picen shall be the battle; + When it shall suddenly rend the mist asunder, + So that each Bianco shall thereby be smitten. + +And this I’ve said that it may give thee pain.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXV + + +At the conclusion of his words, the thief + Lifted his hands aloft with both the figs, + Crying: “Take that, God, for at thee I aim them.” + +From that time forth the serpents were my friends; + For one entwined itself about his neck + As if it said: “I will not thou speak more;” + +And round his arms another, and rebound him, + Clinching itself together so in front, + That with them he could not a motion make. + +Pistoia, ah, Pistoia! why resolve not + To burn thyself to ashes and so perish, + Since in ill-doing thou thy seed excellest? + +Through all the sombre circles of this Hell, + Spirit I saw not against God so proud, + Not he who fell at Thebes down from the walls! + +He fled away, and spake no further word; + And I beheld a Centaur full of rage + Come crying out: “Where is, where is the scoffer?” + +I do not think Maremma has so many + Serpents as he had all along his back, + As far as where our countenance begins. + +Upon the shoulders, just behind the nape, + With wings wide open was a dragon lying, + And he sets fire to all that he encounters. + +My Master said: “That one is Cacus, who + Beneath the rock upon Mount Aventine + Created oftentimes a lake of blood. + +He goes not on the same road with his brothers, + By reason of the fraudulent theft he made + Of the great herd, which he had near to him; + +Whereat his tortuous actions ceased beneath + The mace of Hercules, who peradventure + Gave him a hundred, and he felt not ten.” + +While he was speaking thus, he had passed by, + And spirits three had underneath us come, + Of which nor I aware was, nor my Leader, + +Until what time they shouted: “Who are you?” + On which account our story made a halt, + And then we were intent on them alone. + +I did not know them; but it came to pass, + As it is wont to happen by some chance, + That one to name the other was compelled, + +Exclaiming: “Where can Cianfa have remained?” + Whence I, so that the Leader might attend, + Upward from chin to nose my finger laid. + +If thou art, Reader, slow now to believe + What I shall say, it will no marvel be, + For I who saw it hardly can admit it. + +As I was holding raised on them my brows, + Behold! a serpent with six feet darts forth + In front of one, and fastens wholly on him. + +With middle feet it bound him round the paunch, + And with the forward ones his arms it seized; + Then thrust its teeth through one cheek and the other; + +The hindermost it stretched upon his thighs, + And put its tail through in between the two, + And up behind along the reins outspread it. + +Ivy was never fastened by its barbs + Unto a tree so, as this horrible reptile + Upon the other’s limbs entwined its own. + +Then they stuck close, as if of heated wax + They had been made, and intermixed their colour; + Nor one nor other seemed now what he was; + +E’en as proceedeth on before the flame + Upward along the paper a brown colour, + Which is not black as yet, and the white dies. + +The other two looked on, and each of them + Cried out: “O me, Agnello, how thou changest! + Behold, thou now art neither two nor one.” + +Already the two heads had one become, + When there appeared to us two figures mingled + Into one face, wherein the two were lost. + +Of the four lists were fashioned the two arms, + The thighs and legs, the belly and the chest + Members became that never yet were seen. + +Every original aspect there was cancelled; + Two and yet none did the perverted image + Appear, and such departed with slow pace. + +Even as a lizard, under the great scourge + Of days canicular, exchanging hedge, + Lightning appeareth if the road it cross; + +Thus did appear, coming towards the bellies + Of the two others, a small fiery serpent, + Livid and black as is a peppercorn. + +And in that part whereat is first received + Our aliment, it one of them transfixed; + Then downward fell in front of him extended. + +The one transfixed looked at it, but said naught; + Nay, rather with feet motionless he yawned, + Just as if sleep or fever had assailed him. + +He at the serpent gazed, and it at him; + One through the wound, the other through the mouth + Smoked violently, and the smoke commingled. + +Henceforth be silent Lucan, where he mentions + Wretched Sabellus and Nassidius, + And wait to hear what now shall be shot forth. + +Be silent Ovid, of Cadmus and Arethusa; + For if him to a snake, her to fountain, + Converts he fabling, that I grudge him not; + +Because two natures never front to front + Has he transmuted, so that both the forms + To interchange their matter ready were. + +Together they responded in such wise, + That to a fork the serpent cleft his tail, + And eke the wounded drew his feet together. + +The legs together with the thighs themselves + Adhered so, that in little time the juncture + No sign whatever made that was apparent. + +He with the cloven tail assumed the figure + The other one was losing, and his skin + Became elastic, and the other’s hard. + +I saw the arms draw inward at the armpits, + And both feet of the reptile, that were short, + Lengthen as much as those contracted were. + +Thereafter the hind feet, together twisted, + Became the member that a man conceals, + And of his own the wretch had two created. + +While both of them the exhalation veils + With a new colour, and engenders hair + On one of them and depilates the other, + +The one uprose and down the other fell, + Though turning not away their impious lamps, + Underneath which each one his muzzle changed. + +He who was standing drew it tow’rds the temples, + And from excess of matter, which came thither, + Issued the ears from out the hollow cheeks; + +What did not backward run and was retained + Of that excess made to the face a nose, + And the lips thickened far as was befitting. + +He who lay prostrate thrusts his muzzle forward, + And backward draws the ears into his head, + In the same manner as the snail its horns; + +And so the tongue, which was entire and apt + For speech before, is cleft, and the bi-forked + In the other closes up, and the smoke ceases. + +The soul, which to a reptile had been changed, + Along the valley hissing takes to flight, + And after him the other speaking sputters. + +Then did he turn upon him his new shoulders, + And said to the other: “I’ll have Buoso run, + Crawling as I have done, along this road.” + +In this way I beheld the seventh ballast + Shift and reshift, and here be my excuse + The novelty, if aught my pen transgress. + +And notwithstanding that mine eyes might be + Somewhat bewildered, and my mind dismayed, + They could not flee away so secretly + +But that I plainly saw Puccio Sciancato; + And he it was who sole of three companions, + Which came in the beginning, was not changed; + +The other was he whom thou, Gaville, weepest. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXVI + + +Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, + That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, + And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad! + +Among the thieves five citizens of thine + Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, + And thou thereby to no great honour risest. + +But if when morn is near our dreams are true, + Feel shalt thou in a little time from now + What Prato, if none other, craves for thee. + +And if it now were, it were not too soon; + Would that it were, seeing it needs must be, + For ’twill aggrieve me more the more I age. + +We went our way, and up along the stairs + The bourns had made us to descend before, + Remounted my Conductor and drew me. + +And following the solitary path + Among the rocks and ridges of the crag, + The foot without the hand sped not at all. + +Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again, + When I direct my mind to what I saw, + And more my genius curb than I am wont, + +That it may run not unless virtue guide it; + So that if some good star, or better thing, + Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it. + +As many as the hind (who on the hill + Rests at the time when he who lights the world + His countenance keeps least concealed from us, + +While as the fly gives place unto the gnat) + Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley, + Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage; + +With flames as manifold resplendent all + Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware + As soon as I was where the depth appeared. + +And such as he who with the bears avenged him + Beheld Elijah’s chariot at departing, + What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose, + +For with his eye he could not follow it + So as to see aught else than flame alone, + Even as a little cloud ascending upward, + +Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment + Was moving; for not one reveals the theft, + And every flame a sinner steals away. + +I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see, + So that, if I had seized not on a rock, + Down had I fallen without being pushed. + +And the Leader, who beheld me so attent, + Exclaimed: “Within the fires the spirits are; + Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns.” + +“My Master,” I replied, “by hearing thee + I am more sure; but I surmised already + It might be so, and already wished to ask thee + +Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft + At top, it seems uprising from the pyre + Where was Eteocles with his brother placed.” + +He answered me: “Within there are tormented + Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together + They unto vengeance run as unto wrath. + +And there within their flame do they lament + The ambush of the horse, which made the door + Whence issued forth the Romans’ gentle seed; + +Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead + Deidamia still deplores Achilles, + And pain for the Palladium there is borne.” + +“If they within those sparks possess the power + To speak,” I said, “thee, Master, much I pray, + And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand, + +That thou make no denial of awaiting + Until the horned flame shall hither come; + Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it.” + +And he to me: “Worthy is thy entreaty + Of much applause, and therefore I accept it; + But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself. + +Leave me to speak, because I have conceived + That which thou wishest; for they might disdain + Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine.” + +When now the flame had come unto that point, + Where to my Leader it seemed time and place, + After this fashion did I hear him speak: + +“O ye, who are twofold within one fire, + If I deserved of you, while I was living, + If I deserved of you or much or little + +When in the world I wrote the lofty verses, + Do not move on, but one of you declare + Whither, being lost, he went away to die.” + +Then of the antique flame the greater horn, + Murmuring, began to wave itself about + Even as a flame doth which the wind fatigues. + +Thereafterward, the summit to and fro + Moving as if it were the tongue that spake, + It uttered forth a voice, and said: “When I + +From Circe had departed, who concealed me + More than a year there near unto Gaeta, + Or ever yet Aeneas named it so, + +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence + For my old father, nor the due affection + Which joyous should have made Penelope, + +Could overcome within me the desire + I had to be experienced of the world, + And of the vice and virtue of mankind; + +But I put forth on the high open sea + With one sole ship, and that small company + By which I never had deserted been. + +Both of the shores I saw as far as Spain, + Far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardes, + And the others which that sea bathes round about. + +I and my company were old and slow + When at that narrow passage we arrived + Where Hercules his landmarks set as signals, + +That man no farther onward should adventure. + On the right hand behind me left I Seville, + And on the other already had left Ceuta. + +‘O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand + Perils,’ I said, ‘have come unto the West, + To this so inconsiderable vigil + +Which is remaining of your senses still + Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, + Following the sun, of the unpeopled world. + +Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang; + Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, + But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.’ + +So eager did I render my companions, + With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, + That then I hardly could have held them back. + +And having turned our stern unto the morning, + We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, + Evermore gaining on the larboard side. + +Already all the stars of the other pole + The night beheld, and ours so very low + It did not rise above the ocean floor. + +Five times rekindled and as many quenched + Had been the splendour underneath the moon, + Since we had entered into the deep pass, + +When there appeared to us a mountain, dim + From distance, and it seemed to me so high + As I had never any one beheld. + +Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; + For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, + And smote upon the fore part of the ship. + +Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, + At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, + And the prow downward go, as pleased Another, + +Until the sea above us closed again.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXVII + + +Already was the flame erect and quiet, + To speak no more, and now departed from us + With the permission of the gentle Poet; + +When yet another, which behind it came, + Caused us to turn our eyes upon its top + By a confused sound that issued from it. + +As the Sicilian bull (that bellowed first + With the lament of him, and that was right, + Who with his file had modulated it) + +Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted, + That, notwithstanding it was made of brass, + Still it appeared with agony transfixed; + +Thus, by not having any way or issue + At first from out the fire, to its own language + Converted were the melancholy words. + +But afterwards, when they had gathered way + Up through the point, giving it that vibration + The tongue had given them in their passage out, + +We heard it said: “O thou, at whom I aim + My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard, + Saying, ‘Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,’ + +Because I come perchance a little late, + To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee; + Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning. + +If thou but lately into this blind world + Hast fallen down from that sweet Latian land, + Wherefrom I bring the whole of my transgression, + +Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war, + For I was from the mountains there between + Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts.” + +I still was downward bent and listening, + When my Conductor touched me on the side, + Saying: “Speak thou: this one a Latian is.” + +And I, who had beforehand my reply + In readiness, forthwith began to speak: + “O soul, that down below there art concealed, + +Romagna thine is not and never has been + Without war in the bosom of its tyrants; + But open war I none have left there now. + +Ravenna stands as it long years has stood; + The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding, + So that she covers Cervia with her vans. + +The city which once made the long resistance, + And of the French a sanguinary heap, + Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again; + +Verrucchio’s ancient Mastiff and the new, + Who made such bad disposal of Montagna, + Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth. + +The cities of Lamone and Santerno + Governs the Lioncel of the white lair, + Who changes sides ’twixt summer-time and winter; + +And that of which the Savio bathes the flank, + Even as it lies between the plain and mountain, + Lives between tyranny and a free state. + +Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art; + Be not more stubborn than the rest have been, + So may thy name hold front there in the world.” + +After the fire a little more had roared + In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved + This way and that, and then gave forth such breath: + +“If I believed that my reply were made + To one who to the world would e’er return, + This flame without more flickering would stand still; + +But inasmuch as never from this depth + Did any one return, if I hear true, + Without the fear of infamy I answer, + +I was a man of arms, then Cordelier, + Believing thus begirt to make amends; + And truly my belief had been fulfilled + +But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide, + Who put me back into my former sins; + And how and wherefore I will have thee hear. + +While I was still the form of bone and pulp + My mother gave to me, the deeds I did + Were not those of a lion, but a fox. + +The machinations and the covert ways + I knew them all, and practised so their craft, + That to the ends of earth the sound went forth. + +When now unto that portion of mine age + I saw myself arrived, when each one ought + To lower the sails, and coil away the ropes, + +That which before had pleased me then displeased me; + And penitent and confessing I surrendered, + Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me; + +The Leader of the modern Pharisees + Having a war near unto Lateran, + And not with Saracens nor with the Jews, + +For each one of his enemies was Christian, + And none of them had been to conquer Acre, + Nor merchandising in the Sultan’s land, + +Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders, + In him regarded, nor in me that cord + Which used to make those girt with it more meagre; + +But even as Constantine sought out Sylvester + To cure his leprosy, within Soracte, + So this one sought me out as an adept + +To cure him of the fever of his pride. + Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent, + Because his words appeared inebriate. + +And then he said: ‘Be not thy heart afraid; + Henceforth I thee absolve; and thou instruct me + How to raze Palestrina to the ground. + +Heaven have I power to lock and to unlock, + As thou dost know; therefore the keys are two, + The which my predecessor held not dear.’ + +Then urged me on his weighty arguments + There, where my silence was the worst advice; + And said I: ‘Father, since thou washest me + +Of that sin into which I now must fall, + The promise long with the fulfilment short + Will make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.’ + +Francis came afterward, when I was dead, + For me; but one of the black Cherubim + Said to him: ‘Take him not; do me no wrong; + +He must come down among my servitors, + Because he gave the fraudulent advice + From which time forth I have been at his hair; + +For who repents not cannot be absolved, + Nor can one both repent and will at once, + Because of the contradiction which consents not.’ + +O miserable me! how I did shudder + When he seized on me, saying: ‘Peradventure + Thou didst not think that I was a logician!’ + +He bore me unto Minos, who entwined + Eight times his tail about his stubborn back, + And after he had bitten it in great rage, + +Said: ‘Of the thievish fire a culprit this;’ + Wherefore, here where thou seest, am I lost, + And vested thus in going I bemoan me.” + +When it had thus completed its recital, + The flame departed uttering lamentations, + Writhing and flapping its sharp-pointed horn. + +Onward we passed, both I and my Conductor, + Up o’er the crag above another arch, + Which the moat covers, where is paid the fee + +By those who, sowing discord, win their burden. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXVIII + + +Who ever could, e’en with untrammelled words, + Tell of the blood and of the wounds in full + Which now I saw, by many times narrating? + +Each tongue would for a certainty fall short + By reason of our speech and memory, + That have small room to comprehend so much. + +If were again assembled all the people + Which formerly upon the fateful land + Of Puglia were lamenting for their blood + +Shed by the Romans and the lingering war + That of the rings made such illustrious spoils, + As Livy has recorded, who errs not, + +With those who felt the agony of blows + By making counterstand to Robert Guiscard, + And all the rest, whose bones are gathered still + +At Ceperano, where a renegade + Was each Apulian, and at Tagliacozzo, + Where without arms the old Alardo conquered, + +And one his limb transpierced, and one lopped off, + Should show, it would be nothing to compare + With the disgusting mode of the ninth Bolgia. + +A cask by losing centre-piece or cant + Was never shattered so, as I saw one + Rent from the chin to where one breaketh wind. + +Between his legs were hanging down his entrails; + His heart was visible, and the dismal sack + That maketh excrement of what is eaten. + +While I was all absorbed in seeing him, + He looked at me, and opened with his hands + His bosom, saying: “See now how I rend me; + +How mutilated, see, is Mahomet; + In front of me doth Ali weeping go, + Cleft in the face from forelock unto chin; + +And all the others whom thou here beholdest, + Disseminators of scandal and of schism + While living were, and therefore are cleft thus. + +A devil is behind here, who doth cleave us + Thus cruelly, unto the falchion’s edge + Putting again each one of all this ream, + +When we have gone around the doleful road; + By reason that our wounds are closed again + Ere any one in front of him repass. + +But who art thou, that musest on the crag, + Perchance to postpone going to the pain + That is adjudged upon thine accusations?” + +“Nor death hath reached him yet, nor guilt doth bring him,” + My Master made reply, “to be tormented; + But to procure him full experience, + +Me, who am dead, behoves it to conduct him + Down here through Hell, from circle unto circle; + And this is true as that I speak to thee.” + +More than a hundred were there when they heard him, + Who in the moat stood still to look at me, + Through wonderment oblivious of their torture. + +“Now say to Fra Dolcino, then, to arm him, + Thou, who perhaps wilt shortly see the sun, + If soon he wish not here to follow me, + +So with provisions, that no stress of snow + May give the victory to the Novarese, + Which otherwise to gain would not be easy.” + +After one foot to go away he lifted, + This word did Mahomet say unto me, + Then to depart upon the ground he stretched it. + +Another one, who had his throat pierced through, + And nose cut off close underneath the brows, + And had no longer but a single ear, + +Staying to look in wonder with the others, + Before the others did his gullet open, + Which outwardly was red in every part, + +And said: “O thou, whom guilt doth not condemn, + And whom I once saw up in Latian land, + Unless too great similitude deceive me, + +Call to remembrance Pier da Medicina, + If e’er thou see again the lovely plain + That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo, + +And make it known to the best two of Fano, + To Messer Guido and Angiolello likewise, + That if foreseeing here be not in vain, + +Cast over from their vessel shall they be, + And drowned near unto the Cattolica, + By the betrayal of a tyrant fell. + +Between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca + Neptune ne’er yet beheld so great a crime, + Neither of pirates nor Argolic people. + +That traitor, who sees only with one eye, + And holds the land, which some one here with me + Would fain be fasting from the vision of, + +Will make them come unto a parley with him; + Then will do so, that to Focara’s wind + They will not stand in need of vow or prayer.” + +And I to him: “Show to me and declare, + If thou wouldst have me bear up news of thee, + Who is this person of the bitter vision.” + +Then did he lay his hand upon the jaw + Of one of his companions, and his mouth + Oped, crying: “This is he, and he speaks not. + +This one, being banished, every doubt submerged + In Caesar by affirming the forearmed + Always with detriment allowed delay.” + +O how bewildered unto me appeared, + With tongue asunder in his windpipe slit, + Curio, who in speaking was so bold! + +And one, who both his hands dissevered had, + The stumps uplifting through the murky air, + So that the blood made horrible his face, + +Cried out: “Thou shalt remember Mosca also, + Who said, alas! ‘A thing done has an end!’ + Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people.” + +“And death unto thy race,” thereto I added; + Whence he, accumulating woe on woe, + Departed, like a person sad and crazed. + +But I remained to look upon the crowd; + And saw a thing which I should be afraid, + Without some further proof, even to recount, + +If it were not that conscience reassures me, + That good companion which emboldens man + Beneath the hauberk of its feeling pure. + +I truly saw, and still I seem to see it, + A trunk without a head walk in like manner + As walked the others of the mournful herd. + +And by the hair it held the head dissevered, + Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern, + And that upon us gazed and said: “O me!” + +It of itself made to itself a lamp, + And they were two in one, and one in two; + How that can be, He knows who so ordains it. + +When it was come close to the bridge’s foot, + It lifted high its arm with all the head, + To bring more closely unto us its words, + +Which were: “Behold now the sore penalty, + Thou, who dost breathing go the dead beholding; + Behold if any be as great as this. + +And so that thou may carry news of me, + Know that Bertram de Born am I, the same + Who gave to the Young King the evil comfort. + +I made the father and the son rebellious; + Achitophel not more with Absalom + And David did with his accursed goadings. + +Because I parted persons so united, + Parted do I now bear my brain, alas! + From its beginning, which is in this trunk. + +Thus is observed in me the counterpoise.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXIX + + +The many people and the divers wounds + These eyes of mine had so inebriated, + That they were wishful to stand still and weep; + +But said Virgilius: “What dost thou still gaze at? + Why is thy sight still riveted down there + Among the mournful, mutilated shades? + +Thou hast not done so at the other Bolge; + Consider, if to count them thou believest, + That two-and-twenty miles the valley winds, + +And now the moon is underneath our feet; + Henceforth the time allotted us is brief, + And more is to be seen than what thou seest.” + +“If thou hadst,” I made answer thereupon, + “Attended to the cause for which I looked, + Perhaps a longer stay thou wouldst have pardoned.” + +Meanwhile my Guide departed, and behind him + I went, already making my reply, + And superadding: “In that cavern where + +I held mine eyes with such attention fixed, + I think a spirit of my blood laments + The sin which down below there costs so much.” + +Then said the Master: “Be no longer broken + Thy thought from this time forward upon him; + Attend elsewhere, and there let him remain; + +For him I saw below the little bridge, + Pointing at thee, and threatening with his finger + Fiercely, and heard him called Geri del Bello. + +So wholly at that time wast thou impeded + By him who formerly held Altaforte, + Thou didst not look that way; so he departed.” + +“O my Conductor, his own violent death, + Which is not yet avenged for him,” I said, + “By any who is sharer in the shame, + +Made him disdainful; whence he went away, + As I imagine, without speaking to me, + And thereby made me pity him the more.” + +Thus did we speak as far as the first place + Upon the crag, which the next valley shows + Down to the bottom, if there were more light. + +When we were now right over the last cloister + Of Malebolge, so that its lay-brothers + Could manifest themselves unto our sight, + +Divers lamentings pierced me through and through, + Which with compassion had their arrows barbed, + Whereat mine ears I covered with my hands. + +What pain would be, if from the hospitals + Of Valdichiana, ’twixt July and September, + And of Maremma and Sardinia + +All the diseases in one moat were gathered, + Such was it here, and such a stench came from it + As from putrescent limbs is wont to issue. + +We had descended on the furthest bank + From the long crag, upon the left hand still, + And then more vivid was my power of sight + +Down tow’rds the bottom, where the ministress + Of the high Lord, Justice infallible, + Punishes forgers, which she here records. + +I do not think a sadder sight to see + Was in Aegina the whole people sick, + (When was the air so full of pestilence, + +The animals, down to the little worm, + All fell, and afterwards the ancient people, + According as the poets have affirmed, + +Were from the seed of ants restored again,) + Than was it to behold through that dark valley + The spirits languishing in divers heaps. + +This on the belly, that upon the back + One of the other lay, and others crawling + Shifted themselves along the dismal road. + +We step by step went onward without speech, + Gazing upon and listening to the sick + Who had not strength enough to lift their bodies. + +I saw two sitting leaned against each other, + As leans in heating platter against platter, + From head to foot bespotted o’er with scabs; + +And never saw I plied a currycomb + By stable-boy for whom his master waits, + Or him who keeps awake unwillingly, + +As every one was plying fast the bite + Of nails upon himself, for the great rage + Of itching which no other succour had. + +And the nails downward with them dragged the scab, + In fashion as a knife the scales of bream, + Or any other fish that has them largest. + +“O thou, that with thy fingers dost dismail thee,” + Began my Leader unto one of them, + “And makest of them pincers now and then, + +Tell me if any Latian is with those + Who are herein; so may thy nails suffice thee + To all eternity unto this work.” + +“Latians are we, whom thou so wasted seest, + Both of us here,” one weeping made reply; + “But who art thou, that questionest about us?” + +And said the Guide: “One am I who descends + Down with this living man from cliff to cliff, + And I intend to show Hell unto him.” + +Then broken was their mutual support, + And trembling each one turned himself to me, + With others who had heard him by rebound. + +Wholly to me did the good Master gather, + Saying: “Say unto them whate’er thou wishest.” + And I began, since he would have it so: + +“So may your memory not steal away + In the first world from out the minds of men, + But so may it survive ’neath many suns, + +Say to me who ye are, and of what people; + Let not your foul and loathsome punishment + Make you afraid to show yourselves to me.” + +“I of Arezzo was,” one made reply, + “And Albert of Siena had me burned; + But what I died for does not bring me here. + +’Tis true I said to him, speaking in jest, + That I could rise by flight into the air, + And he who had conceit, but little wit, + +Would have me show to him the art; and only + Because no Daedalus I made him, made me + Be burned by one who held him as his son. + +But unto the last Bolgia of the ten, + For alchemy, which in the world I practised, + Minos, who cannot err, has me condemned.” + +And to the Poet said I: “Now was ever + So vain a people as the Sienese? + Not for a certainty the French by far.” + +Whereat the other leper, who had heard me, + Replied unto my speech: “Taking out Stricca, + Who knew the art of moderate expenses, + +And Niccolo, who the luxurious use + Of cloves discovered earliest of all + Within that garden where such seed takes root; + +And taking out the band, among whom squandered + Caccia d’Ascian his vineyards and vast woods, + And where his wit the Abbagliato proffered! + +But, that thou know who thus doth second thee + Against the Sienese, make sharp thine eye + Tow’rds me, so that my face well answer thee, + +And thou shalt see I am Capocchio’s shade, + Who metals falsified by alchemy; + Thou must remember, if I well descry thee, + +How I a skilful ape of nature was.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXX + + +’Twas at the time when Juno was enraged, + For Semele, against the Theban blood, + As she already more than once had shown, + +So reft of reason Athamas became, + That, seeing his own wife with children twain + Walking encumbered upon either hand, + +He cried: “Spread out the nets, that I may take + The lioness and her whelps upon the passage;” + And then extended his unpitying claws, + +Seizing the first, who had the name Learchus, + And whirled him round, and dashed him on a rock; + And she, with the other burthen, drowned herself;— + +And at the time when fortune downward hurled + The Trojan’s arrogance, that all things dared, + So that the king was with his kingdom crushed, + +Hecuba sad, disconsolate, and captive, + When lifeless she beheld Polyxena, + And of her Polydorus on the shore + +Of ocean was the dolorous one aware, + Out of her senses like a dog she barked, + So much the anguish had her mind distorted; + +But not of Thebes the furies nor the Trojan + Were ever seen in any one so cruel + In goading beasts, and much more human members, + +As I beheld two shadows pale and naked, + Who, biting, in the manner ran along + That a boar does, when from the sty turned loose. + +One to Capocchio came, and by the nape + Seized with its teeth his neck, so that in dragging + It made his belly grate the solid bottom. + +And the Aretine, who trembling had remained, + Said to me: “That mad sprite is Gianni Schicchi, + And raving goes thus harrying other people.” + +“O,” said I to him, “so may not the other + Set teeth on thee, let it not weary thee + To tell us who it is, ere it dart hence.” + +And he to me: “That is the ancient ghost + Of the nefarious Myrrha, who became + Beyond all rightful love her father’s lover. + +She came to sin with him after this manner, + By counterfeiting of another’s form; + As he who goeth yonder undertook, + +That he might gain the lady of the herd, + To counterfeit in himself Buoso Donati, + Making a will and giving it due form.” + +And after the two maniacs had passed + On whom I held mine eye, I turned it back + To look upon the other evil-born. + +I saw one made in fashion of a lute, + If he had only had the groin cut off + Just at the point at which a man is forked. + +The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions + The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts, + That the face corresponds not to the belly, + +Compelled him so to hold his lips apart + As does the hectic, who because of thirst + One tow’rds the chin, the other upward turns. + +“O ye, who without any torment are, + And why I know not, in the world of woe,” + He said to us, “behold, and be attentive + +Unto the misery of Master Adam; + I had while living much of what I wished, + And now, alas! a drop of water crave. + +The rivulets, that from the verdant hills + Of Cassentin descend down into Arno, + Making their channels to be cold and moist, + +Ever before me stand, and not in vain; + For far more doth their image dry me up + Than the disease which strips my face of flesh. + +The rigid justice that chastises me + Draweth occasion from the place in which + I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight. + +There is Romena, where I counterfeited + The currency imprinted with the Baptist, + For which I left my body burned above. + +But if I here could see the tristful soul + Of Guido, or Alessandro, or their brother, + For Branda’s fount I would not give the sight. + +One is within already, if the raving + Shades that are going round about speak truth; + But what avails it me, whose limbs are tied? + +If I were only still so light, that in + A hundred years I could advance one inch, + I had already started on the way, + +Seeking him out among this squalid folk, + Although the circuit be eleven miles, + And be not less than half a mile across. + +For them am I in such a family; + They did induce me into coining florins, + Which had three carats of impurity.” + +And I to him: “Who are the two poor wretches + That smoke like unto a wet hand in winter, + Lying there close upon thy right-hand confines?” + +“I found them here,” replied he, “when I rained + Into this chasm, and since they have not turned, + Nor do I think they will for evermore. + +One the false woman is who accused Joseph, + The other the false Sinon, Greek of Troy; + From acute fever they send forth such reek.” + +And one of them, who felt himself annoyed + At being, peradventure, named so darkly, + Smote with the fist upon his hardened paunch. + +It gave a sound, as if it were a drum; + And Master Adam smote him in the face, + With arm that did not seem to be less hard, + +Saying to him: “Although be taken from me + All motion, for my limbs that heavy are, + I have an arm unfettered for such need.” + +Whereat he answer made: “When thou didst go + Unto the fire, thou hadst it not so ready: + But hadst it so and more when thou wast coining.” + +The dropsical: “Thou sayest true in that; + But thou wast not so true a witness there, + Where thou wast questioned of the truth at Troy.” + +“If I spake false, thou falsifiedst the coin,” + Said Sinon; “and for one fault I am here, + And thou for more than any other demon.” + +“Remember, perjurer, about the horse,” + He made reply who had the swollen belly, + “And rueful be it thee the whole world knows it.” + +“Rueful to thee the thirst be wherewith cracks + Thy tongue,” the Greek said, “and the putrid water + That hedges so thy paunch before thine eyes.” + +Then the false-coiner: “So is gaping wide + Thy mouth for speaking evil, as ’tis wont; + Because if I have thirst, and humour stuff me + +Thou hast the burning and the head that aches, + And to lick up the mirror of Narcissus + Thou wouldst not want words many to invite thee.” + +In listening to them was I wholly fixed, + When said the Master to me: “Now just look, + For little wants it that I quarrel with thee.” + +When him I heard in anger speak to me, + I turned me round towards him with such shame + That still it eddies through my memory. + +And as he is who dreams of his own harm, + Who dreaming wishes it may be a dream, + So that he craves what is, as if it were not; + +Such I became, not having power to speak, + For to excuse myself I wished, and still + Excused myself, and did not think I did it. + +“Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,” + The Master said, “than this of thine has been; + Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness, + +And make account that I am aye beside thee, + If e’er it come to pass that fortune bring thee + Where there are people in a like dispute; + +For a base wish it is to wish to hear it.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXXI + + +One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, + So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, + And then held out to me the medicine; + +Thus do I hear that once Achilles’ spear, + His and his father’s, used to be the cause + First of a sad and then a gracious boon. + +We turned our backs upon the wretched valley, + Upon the bank that girds it round about, + Going across it without any speech. + +There it was less than night, and less than day, + So that my sight went little in advance; + But I could hear the blare of a loud horn, + +So loud it would have made each thunder faint, + Which, counter to it following its way, + Mine eyes directed wholly to one place. + +After the dolorous discomfiture + When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost, + So terribly Orlando sounded not. + +Short while my head turned thitherward I held + When many lofty towers I seemed to see, + Whereat I: “Master, say, what town is this?” + +And he to me: “Because thou peerest forth + Athwart the darkness at too great a distance, + It happens that thou errest in thy fancy. + +Well shalt thou see, if thou arrivest there, + How much the sense deceives itself by distance; + Therefore a little faster spur thee on.” + +Then tenderly he took me by the hand, + And said: “Before we farther have advanced, + That the reality may seem to thee + +Less strange, know that these are not towers, but giants, + And they are in the well, around the bank, + From navel downward, one and all of them.” + +As, when the fog is vanishing away, + Little by little doth the sight refigure + Whate’er the mist that crowds the air conceals, + +So, piercing through the dense and darksome air, + More and more near approaching tow’rd the verge, + My error fled, and fear came over me; + +Because as on its circular parapets + Montereggione crowns itself with towers, + E’en thus the margin which surrounds the well + +With one half of their bodies turreted + The horrible giants, whom Jove menaces + E’en now from out the heavens when he thunders. + +And I of one already saw the face, + Shoulders, and breast, and great part of the belly, + And down along his sides both of the arms. + +Certainly Nature, when she left the making + Of animals like these, did well indeed, + By taking such executors from Mars; + +And if of elephants and whales she doth not + Repent her, whosoever looketh subtly + More just and more discreet will hold her for it; + +For where the argument of intellect + Is added unto evil will and power, + No rampart can the people make against it. + +His face appeared to me as long and large + As is at Rome the pine-cone of Saint Peter’s, + And in proportion were the other bones; + +So that the margin, which an apron was + Down from the middle, showed so much of him + Above it, that to reach up to his hair + +Three Frieslanders in vain had vaunted them; + For I beheld thirty great palms of him + Down from the place where man his mantle buckles. + +“Raphael mai amech izabi almi,” + Began to clamour the ferocious mouth, + To which were not befitting sweeter psalms. + +And unto him my Guide: “Soul idiotic, + Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that, + When wrath or other passion touches thee. + +Search round thy neck, and thou wilt find the belt + Which keeps it fastened, O bewildered soul, + And see it, where it bars thy mighty breast.” + +Then said to me: “He doth himself accuse; + This one is Nimrod, by whose evil thought + One language in the world is not still used. + +Here let us leave him and not speak in vain; + For even such to him is every language + As his to others, which to none is known.” + +Therefore a longer journey did we make, + Turned to the left, and a crossbow-shot oft + We found another far more fierce and large. + +In binding him, who might the master be + I cannot say; but he had pinioned close + Behind the right arm, and in front the other, + +With chains, that held him so begirt about + From the neck down, that on the part uncovered + It wound itself as far as the fifth gyre. + +“This proud one wished to make experiment + Of his own power against the Supreme Jove,” + My Leader said, “whence he has such a guerdon. + +Ephialtes is his name; he showed great prowess. + What time the giants terrified the gods; + The arms he wielded never more he moves.” + +And I to him: “If possible, I should wish + That of the measureless Briareus + These eyes of mine might have experience.” + +Whence he replied: “Thou shalt behold Antaeus + Close by here, who can speak and is unbound, + Who at the bottom of all crime shall place us. + +Much farther yon is he whom thou wouldst see, + And he is bound, and fashioned like to this one, + Save that he seems in aspect more ferocious.” + +There never was an earthquake of such might + That it could shake a tower so violently, + As Ephialtes suddenly shook himself. + +Then was I more afraid of death than ever, + For nothing more was needful than the fear, + If I had not beheld the manacles. + +Then we proceeded farther in advance, + And to Antaeus came, who, full five ells + Without the head, forth issued from the cavern. + +“O thou, who in the valley fortunate, + Which Scipio the heir of glory made, + When Hannibal turned back with all his hosts, + +Once brought’st a thousand lions for thy prey, + And who, hadst thou been at the mighty war + Among thy brothers, some it seems still think + +The sons of Earth the victory would have gained: + Place us below, nor be disdainful of it, + There where the cold doth lock Cocytus up. + +Make us not go to Tityus nor Typhoeus; + This one can give of that which here is longed for; + Therefore stoop down, and do not curl thy lip. + +Still in the world can he restore thy fame; + Because he lives, and still expects long life, + If to itself Grace call him not untimely.” + +So said the Master; and in haste the other + His hands extended and took up my Guide,— + Hands whose great pressure Hercules once felt. + +Virgilius, when he felt himself embraced, + Said unto me: “Draw nigh, that I may take thee;” + Then of himself and me one bundle made. + +As seems the Carisenda, to behold + Beneath the leaning side, when goes a cloud + Above it so that opposite it hangs; + +Such did Antaeus seem to me, who stood + Watching to see him stoop, and then it was + I could have wished to go some other way. + +But lightly in the abyss, which swallows up + Judas with Lucifer, he put us down; + Nor thus bowed downward made he there delay, + +But, as a mast does in a ship, uprose. + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXXII + + +If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous, + As were appropriate to the dismal hole + Down upon which thrust all the other rocks, + +I would press out the juice of my conception + More fully; but because I have them not, + Not without fear I bring myself to speak; + +For ’tis no enterprise to take in jest, + To sketch the bottom of all the universe, + Nor for a tongue that cries Mamma and Babbo. + +But may those Ladies help this verse of mine, + Who helped Amphion in enclosing Thebes, + That from the fact the word be not diverse. + +O rabble ill-begotten above all, + Who’re in the place to speak of which is hard, + ’Twere better ye had here been sheep or goats! + +When we were down within the darksome well, + Beneath the giant’s feet, but lower far, + And I was scanning still the lofty wall, + +I heard it said to me: “Look how thou steppest! + Take heed thou do not trample with thy feet + The heads of the tired, miserable brothers!” + +Whereat I turned me round, and saw before me + And underfoot a lake, that from the frost + The semblance had of glass, and not of water. + +So thick a veil ne’er made upon its current + In winter-time Danube in Austria, + Nor there beneath the frigid sky the Don, + +As there was here; so that if Tambernich + Had fallen upon it, or Pietrapana, + E’en at the edge ’twould not have given a creak. + +And as to croak the frog doth place himself + With muzzle out of water,—when is dreaming + Of gleaning oftentimes the peasant-girl,— + +Livid, as far down as where shame appears, + Were the disconsolate shades within the ice, + Setting their teeth unto the note of storks. + +Each one his countenance held downward bent; + From mouth the cold, from eyes the doleful heart + Among them witness of itself procures. + +When round about me somewhat I had looked, + I downward turned me, and saw two so close, + The hair upon their heads together mingled. + +“Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me,” + I said, “who are you;” and they bent their necks, + And when to me their faces they had lifted, + +Their eyes, which first were only moist within, + Gushed o’er the eyelids, and the frost congealed + The tears between, and locked them up again. + +Clamp never bound together wood with wood + So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats, + Butted together, so much wrath o’ercame them. + +And one, who had by reason of the cold + Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward, + Said: “Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us? + +If thou desire to know who these two are, + The valley whence Bisenzio descends + Belonged to them and to their father Albert. + +They from one body came, and all Caina + Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade + More worthy to be fixed in gelatine; + +Not he in whom were broken breast and shadow + At one and the same blow by Arthur’s hand; + Focaccia not; not he who me encumbers + +So with his head I see no farther forward, + And bore the name of Sassol Mascheroni; + Well knowest thou who he was, if thou art Tuscan. + +And that thou put me not to further speech, + Know that I Camicion de’ Pazzi was, + And wait Carlino to exonerate me.” + +Then I beheld a thousand faces, made + Purple with cold; whence o’er me comes a shudder, + And evermore will come, at frozen ponds. + +And while we were advancing tow’rds the middle, + Where everything of weight unites together, + And I was shivering in the eternal shade, + +Whether ’twere will, or destiny, or chance, + I know not; but in walking ’mong the heads + I struck my foot hard in the face of one. + +Weeping he growled: “Why dost thou trample me? + Unless thou comest to increase the vengeance + of Montaperti, why dost thou molest me?” + +And I: “My Master, now wait here for me, + That I through him may issue from a doubt; + Then thou mayst hurry me, as thou shalt wish.” + +The Leader stopped; and to that one I said + Who was blaspheming vehemently still: + “Who art thou, that thus reprehendest others?” + +“Now who art thou, that goest through Antenora + Smiting,” replied he, “other people’s cheeks, + So that, if thou wert living, ’twere too much?” + +“Living I am, and dear to thee it may be,” + Was my response, “if thou demandest fame, + That ’mid the other notes thy name I place.” + +And he to me: “For the reverse I long; + Take thyself hence, and give me no more trouble; + For ill thou knowest to flatter in this hollow.” + +Then by the scalp behind I seized upon him, + And said: “It must needs be thou name thyself, + Or not a hair remain upon thee here.” + +Whence he to me: “Though thou strip off my hair, + I will not tell thee who I am, nor show thee, + If on my head a thousand times thou fall.” + +I had his hair in hand already twisted, + And more than one shock of it had pulled out, + He barking, with his eyes held firmly down, + +When cried another: “What doth ail thee, Bocca? + Is’t not enough to clatter with thy jaws, + But thou must bark? what devil touches thee?” + +“Now,” said I, “I care not to have thee speak, + Accursed traitor; for unto thy shame + I will report of thee veracious news.” + +“Begone,” replied he, “and tell what thou wilt, + But be not silent, if thou issue hence, + Of him who had just now his tongue so prompt; + +He weepeth here the silver of the French; + ‘I saw,’ thus canst thou phrase it, ‘him of Duera + There where the sinners stand out in the cold.’ + +If thou shouldst questioned be who else was there, + Thou hast beside thee him of Beccaria, + Of whom the gorget Florence slit asunder; + +Gianni del Soldanier, I think, may be + Yonder with Ganellon, and Tebaldello + Who oped Faenza when the people slep.” + +Already we had gone away from him, + When I beheld two frozen in one hole, + So that one head a hood was to the other; + +And even as bread through hunger is devoured, + The uppermost on the other set his teeth, + There where the brain is to the nape united. + +Not in another fashion Tydeus gnawed + The temples of Menalippus in disdain, + Than that one did the skull and the other things. + +“O thou, who showest by such bestial sign + Thy hatred against him whom thou art eating, + Tell me the wherefore,” said I, “with this compact, + +That if thou rightfully of him complain, + In knowing who ye are, and his transgression, + I in the world above repay thee for it, + +If that wherewith I speak be not dried up.” + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXXIII + + +His mouth uplifted from his grim repast, + That sinner, wiping it upon the hair + Of the same head that he behind had wasted. + +Then he began: “Thou wilt that I renew + The desperate grief, which wrings my heart already + To think of only, ere I speak of it; + +But if my words be seed that may bear fruit + Of infamy to the traitor whom I gnaw, + Speaking and weeping shalt thou see together. + +I know not who thou art, nor by what mode + Thou hast come down here; but a Florentine + Thou seemest to me truly, when I hear thee. + +Thou hast to know I was Count Ugolino, + And this one was Ruggieri the Archbishop; + Now I will tell thee why I am such a neighbour. + +That, by effect of his malicious thoughts, + Trusting in him I was made prisoner, + And after put to death, I need not say; + + But ne’ertheless what thou canst not have heard, + That is to say, how cruel was my death, + Hear shalt thou, and shalt know if he has wronged me. + +A narrow perforation in the mew, + Which bears because of me the title of Famine, + And in which others still must be locked up, + +Had shown me through its opening many moons + Already, when I dreamed the evil dream + Which of the future rent for me the veil. + +This one appeared to me as lord and master, + Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain + For which the Pisans cannot Lucca see. + +With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained, + Gualandi with Sismondi and Lanfianchi + He had sent out before him to the front. + +After brief course seemed unto me forespent + The father and the sons, and with sharp tushes + It seemed to me I saw their flanks ripped open. + +When I before the morrow was awake, + Moaning amid their sleep I heard my sons + Who with me were, and asking after bread. + +Cruel indeed art thou, if yet thou grieve not, + Thinking of what my heart foreboded me, + And weep’st thou not, what art thou wont to weep at? + +They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh + At which our food used to be brought to us, + And through his dream was each one apprehensive; + +And I heard locking up the under door + Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word + I gazed into the faces of my sons. + +I wept not, I within so turned to stone; + They wept; and darling little Anselm mine + Said: ‘Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?’ + +Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made + All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter, + Until another sun rose on the world. + +As now a little glimmer made its way + Into the dolorous prison, and I saw + Upon four faces my own very aspect, + +Both of my hands in agony I bit; + And, thinking that I did it from desire + Of eating, on a sudden they uprose, + +And said they: ‘Father, much less pain ’twill give us + If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe us + With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.’ + +I calmed me then, not to make them more sad. + That day we all were silent, and the next. + Ah! obdurate earth, wherefore didst thou not open? + +When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo + Threw himself down outstretched before my feet, + Saying, ‘My father, why dost thou not help me?’ + +And there he died; and, as thou seest me, + I saw the three fall, one by one, between + The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me, + +Already blind, to groping over each, + And three days called them after they were dead; + Then hunger did what sorrow could not do.” + +When he had said this, with his eyes distorted, + The wretched skull resumed he with his teeth, + Which, as a dog’s, upon the bone were strong. + +Ah! Pisa, thou opprobrium of the people + Of the fair land there where the ‘Si’ doth sound, + Since slow to punish thee thy neighbours are, + +Let the Capraia and Gorgona move, + And make a hedge across the mouth of Arno + That every person in thee it may drown! + +For if Count Ugolino had the fame + Of having in thy castles thee betrayed, + Thou shouldst not on such cross have put his sons. + +Guiltless of any crime, thou modern Thebes! + Their youth made Uguccione and Brigata, + And the other two my song doth name above! + +We passed still farther onward, where the ice + Another people ruggedly enswathes, + Not downward turned, but all of them reversed. + +Weeping itself there does not let them weep, + And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes + Turns itself inward to increase the anguish; + +Because the earliest tears a cluster form, + And, in the manner of a crystal visor, + Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow full. + +And notwithstanding that, as in a callus, + Because of cold all sensibility + Its station had abandoned in my face, + +Still it appeared to me I felt some wind; + Whence I: “My Master, who sets this in motion? + Is not below here every vapour quenched?” + +Whence he to me: “Full soon shalt thou be where + Thine eye shall answer make to thee of this, + Seeing the cause which raineth down the blast.” + +And one of the wretches of the frozen crust + Cried out to us: “O souls so merciless + That the last post is given unto you, + +Lift from mine eyes the rigid veils, that I + May vent the sorrow which impregns my heart + A little, e’er the weeping recongeal.” + +Whence I to him: “If thou wouldst have me help thee + Say who thou wast; and if I free thee not, + May I go to the bottom of the ice.” + +Then he replied: “I am Friar Alberigo; + He am I of the fruit of the bad garden, + Who here a date am getting for my fig.” + +“O,” said I to him, “now art thou, too, dead?” + And he to me: “How may my body fare + Up in the world, no knowledge I possess. + +Such an advantage has this Ptolomaea, + That oftentimes the soul descendeth here + Sooner than Atropos in motion sets it. + +And, that thou mayest more willingly remove + From off my countenance these glassy tears, + Know that as soon as any soul betrays + +As I have done, his body by a demon + Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it, + Until his time has wholly been revolved. + +Itself down rushes into such a cistern; + And still perchance above appears the body + Of yonder shade, that winters here behind me. + +This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down; + It is Ser Branca d’ Oria, and many years + Have passed away since he was thus locked up.” + +“I think,” said I to him, “thou dost deceive me; + For Branca d’ Oria is not dead as yet, + And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes.” + +“In moat above,” said he, “of Malebranche, + There where is boiling the tenacious pitch, + As yet had Michel Zanche not arrived, + +When this one left a devil in his stead + In his own body and one near of kin, + Who made together with him the betrayal. + +But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith, + Open mine eyes;”—and open them I did not, + And to be rude to him was courtesy. + +Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance + With every virtue, full of every vice + Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world? + +For with the vilest spirit of Romagna + I found of you one such, who for his deeds + In soul already in Cocytus bathes, + +And still above in body seems alive! + + + + +Inferno: Canto XXXIV + + +“‘Vexilla Regis prodeunt Inferni’ + Towards us; therefore look in front of thee,” + My Master said, “if thou discernest him.” + +As, when there breathes a heavy fog, or when + Our hemisphere is darkening into night, + Appears far off a mill the wind is turning, + +Methought that such a building then I saw; + And, for the wind, I drew myself behind + My Guide, because there was no other shelter. + +Now was I, and with fear in verse I put it, + There where the shades were wholly covered up, + And glimmered through like unto straws in glass. + +Some prone are lying, others stand erect, + This with the head, and that one with the soles; + Another, bow-like, face to feet inverts. + +When in advance so far we had proceeded, + That it my Master pleased to show to me + The creature who once had the beauteous semblance, + +He from before me moved and made me stop, + Saying: “Behold Dis, and behold the place + Where thou with fortitude must arm thyself.” + +How frozen I became and powerless then, + Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not, + Because all language would be insufficient. + +I did not die, and I alive remained not; + Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, + What I became, being of both deprived. + +The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous + From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice; + And better with a giant I compare + +Than do the giants with those arms of his; + Consider now how great must be that whole, + Which unto such a part conforms itself. + +Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, + And lifted up his brow against his Maker, + Well may proceed from him all tribulation. + +O, what a marvel it appeared to me, + When I beheld three faces on his head! + The one in front, and that vermilion was; + +Two were the others, that were joined with this + Above the middle part of either shoulder, + And they were joined together at the crest; + +And the right-hand one seemed ’twixt white and yellow; + The left was such to look upon as those + Who come from where the Nile falls valley-ward. + +Underneath each came forth two mighty wings, + Such as befitting were so great a bird; + Sails of the sea I never saw so large. + + No feathers had they, but as of a bat + Their fashion was; and he was waving them, + So that three winds proceeded forth therefrom. + +Thereby Cocytus wholly was congealed. + With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins + Trickled the tear-drops and the bloody drivel. + +At every mouth he with his teeth was crunching + A sinner, in the manner of a brake, + So that he three of them tormented thus. + +To him in front the biting was as naught + Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine + Utterly stripped of all the skin remained. + +“That soul up there which has the greatest pain,” + The Master said, “is Judas Iscariot; + With head inside, he plies his legs without. + +Of the two others, who head downward are, + The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus; + See how he writhes himself, and speaks no word. + +And the other, who so stalwart seems, is Cassius. + But night is reascending, and ’tis time + That we depart, for we have seen the whole.” + +As seemed him good, I clasped him round the neck, + And he the vantage seized of time and place, + And when the wings were opened wide apart, + +He laid fast hold upon the shaggy sides; + From fell to fell descended downward then + Between the thick hair and the frozen crust. + +When we were come to where the thigh revolves + Exactly on the thickness of the haunch, + The Guide, with labour and with hard-drawn breath, + +Turned round his head where he had had his legs, + And grappled to the hair, as one who mounts, + So that to Hell I thought we were returning. + +“Keep fast thy hold, for by such stairs as these,” + The Master said, panting as one fatigued, + “Must we perforce depart from so much evil.” + +Then through the opening of a rock he issued, + And down upon the margin seated me; + Then tow’rds me he outstretched his wary step. + +I lifted up mine eyes and thought to see + Lucifer in the same way I had left him; + And I beheld him upward hold his legs. + +And if I then became disquieted, + Let stolid people think who do not see + What the point is beyond which I had passed. + +“Rise up,” the Master said, “upon thy feet; + The way is long, and difficult the road, + And now the sun to middle-tierce returns.” + +It was not any palace corridor + There where we were, but dungeon natural, + With floor uneven and unease of light. + +“Ere from the abyss I tear myself away, + My Master,” said I when I had arisen, + “To draw me from an error speak a little; + +Where is the ice? and how is this one fixed + Thus upside down? and how in such short time + From eve to morn has the sun made his transit?” + +And he to me: “Thou still imaginest + Thou art beyond the centre, where I grasped + The hair of the fell worm, who mines the world. + +That side thou wast, so long as I descended; + When round I turned me, thou didst pass the point + To which things heavy draw from every side, + +And now beneath the hemisphere art come + Opposite that which overhangs the vast + Dry-land, and ’neath whose cope was put to death + +The Man who without sin was born and lived. + Thou hast thy feet upon the little sphere + Which makes the other face of the Judecca. + +Here it is morn when it is evening there; + And he who with his hair a stairway made us + Still fixed remaineth as he was before. + +Upon this side he fell down out of heaven; + And all the land, that whilom here emerged, + For fear of him made of the sea a veil, + +And came to our hemisphere; and peradventure + To flee from him, what on this side appears + Left the place vacant here, and back recoiled.” + +A place there is below, from Beelzebub + As far receding as the tomb extends, + Which not by sight is known, but by the sound + +Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth + Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed + With course that winds about and slightly falls. + +The Guide and I into that hidden road + Now entered, to return to the bright world; + And without care of having any rest + +We mounted up, he first and I the second, + Till I beheld through a round aperture + Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear; + +Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars. + + + + +PURGATORIO + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto I + + +To run o’er better waters hoists its sail + The little vessel of my genius now, + That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; + +And of that second kingdom will I sing + Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, + And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy. + +But let dead Poesy here rise again, + O holy Muses, since that I am yours, + And here Calliope somewhat ascend, + +My song accompanying with that sound, + Of which the miserable magpies felt + The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon. + +Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire, + That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect + Of the pure air, as far as the first circle, + +Unto mine eyes did recommence delight + Soon as I issued forth from the dead air, + Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast. + +The beauteous planet, that to love incites, + Was making all the orient to laugh, + Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort. + +To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind + Upon the other pole, and saw four stars + Ne’er seen before save by the primal people. + +Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. + O thou septentrional and widowed site, + Because thou art deprived of seeing these! + +When from regarding them I had withdrawn, + Turning a little to the other pole, + There where the Wain had disappeared already, + +I saw beside me an old man alone, + Worthy of so much reverence in his look, + That more owes not to father any son. + +A long beard and with white hair intermingled + He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, + Of which a double list fell on his breast. + +The rays of the four consecrated stars + Did so adorn his countenance with light, + That him I saw as were the sun before him. + +“Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river, + Have fled away from the eternal prison?” + Moving those venerable plumes, he said: + +“Who guided you? or who has been your lamp + In issuing forth out of the night profound, + That ever black makes the infernal valley? + +The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken? + Or is there changed in heaven some council new, + That being damned ye come unto my crags?” + +Then did my Leader lay his grasp upon me, + And with his words, and with his hands and signs, + Reverent he made in me my knees and brow; + +Then answered him: “I came not of myself; + A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers + I aided this one with my company. + +But since it is thy will more be unfolded + Of our condition, how it truly is, + Mine cannot be that this should be denied thee. + +This one has never his last evening seen, + But by his folly was so near to it + That very little time was there to turn. + +As I have said, I unto him was sent + To rescue him, and other way was none + Than this to which I have myself betaken. + +I’ve shown him all the people of perdition, + And now those spirits I intend to show + Who purge themselves beneath thy guardianship. + +How I have brought him would be long to tell thee. + Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me + To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee. + +Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming; + He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear, + As knoweth he who life for her refuses. + +Thou know’st it; since, for her, to thee not bitter + Was death in Utica, where thou didst leave + The vesture, that will shine so, the great day. + +By us the eternal edicts are not broken; + Since this one lives, and Minos binds not me; + But of that circle I, where are the chaste + +Eyes of thy Marcia, who in looks still prays thee, + O holy breast, to hold her as thine own; + For her love, then, incline thyself to us. + +Permit us through thy sevenfold realm to go; + I will take back this grace from thee to her, + If to be mentioned there below thou deignest.” + +“Marcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes + While I was on the other side,” then said he, + “That every grace she wished of me I granted; + +Now that she dwells beyond the evil river, + She can no longer move me, by that law + Which, when I issued forth from there, was made. + +But if a Lady of Heaven do move and rule thee, + As thou dost say, no flattery is needful; + Let it suffice thee that for her thou ask me. + +Go, then, and see thou gird this one about + With a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face, + So that thou cleanse away all stain therefrom, + +For ’twere not fitting that the eye o’ercast + By any mist should go before the first + Angel, who is of those of Paradise. + +This little island round about its base + Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, + Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze; + +No other plant that putteth forth the leaf, + Or that doth indurate, can there have life, + Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks. + +Thereafter be not this way your return; + The sun, which now is rising, will direct you + To take the mount by easier ascent.” + +With this he vanished; and I raised me up + Without a word, and wholly drew myself + Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him. + +And he began: “Son, follow thou my steps; + Let us turn back, for on this side declines + The plain unto its lower boundaries.” + +The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour + Which fled before it, so that from afar + I recognised the trembling of the sea. + +Along the solitary plain we went + As one who unto the lost road returns, + And till he finds it seems to go in vain. + +As soon as we were come to where the dew + Fights with the sun, and, being in a part + Where shadow falls, little evaporates, + +Both of his hands upon the grass outspread + In gentle manner did my Master place; + Whence I, who of his action was aware, + +Extended unto him my tearful cheeks; + There did he make in me uncovered wholly + That hue which Hell had covered up in me. + +Then came we down upon the desert shore + Which never yet saw navigate its waters + Any that afterward had known return. + +There he begirt me as the other pleased; + O marvellous! for even as he culled + The humble plant, such it sprang up again + +Suddenly there where he uprooted it. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto II + + +Already had the sun the horizon reached + Whose circle of meridian covers o’er + Jerusalem with its most lofty point, + +And night that opposite to him revolves + Was issuing forth from Ganges with the Scales + That fall from out her hand when she exceedeth; + +So that the white and the vermilion cheeks + Of beautiful Aurora, where I was, + By too great age were changing into orange. + +We still were on the border of the sea, + Like people who are thinking of their road, + Who go in heart and with the body stay; + +And lo! as when, upon the approach of morning, + Through the gross vapours Mars grows fiery red + Down in the West upon the ocean floor, + +Appeared to me—may I again behold it!— + A light along the sea so swiftly coming, + Its motion by no flight of wing is equalled; + +From which when I a little had withdrawn + Mine eyes, that I might question my Conductor, + Again I saw it brighter grown and larger. + +Then on each side of it appeared to me + I knew not what of white, and underneath it + Little by little there came forth another. + +My Master yet had uttered not a word + While the first whiteness into wings unfolded; + But when he clearly recognised the pilot, + +He cried: “Make haste, make haste to bow the knee! + Behold the Angel of God! fold thou thy hands! + Henceforward shalt thou see such officers! + +See how he scorneth human arguments, + So that nor oar he wants, nor other sail + Than his own wings, between so distant shores. + +See how he holds them pointed up to heaven, + Fanning the air with the eternal pinions, + That do not moult themselves like mortal hair!” + +Then as still nearer and more near us came + The Bird Divine, more radiant he appeared, + So that near by the eye could not endure him, + +But down I cast it; and he came to shore + With a small vessel, very swift and light, + So that the water swallowed naught thereof. + +Upon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot; + Beatitude seemed written in his face, + And more than a hundred spirits sat within. + +“In exitu Israel de Aegypto!” + They chanted all together in one voice, + With whatso in that psalm is after written. + +Then made he sign of holy rood upon them, + Whereat all cast themselves upon the shore, + And he departed swiftly as he came. + +The throng which still remained there unfamiliar + Seemed with the place, all round about them gazing, + As one who in new matters makes essay. + +On every side was darting forth the day. + The sun, who had with his resplendent shafts + From the mid-heaven chased forth the Capricorn, + +When the new people lifted up their faces + Towards us, saying to us: “If ye know, + Show us the way to go unto the mountain.” + +And answer made Virgilius: “Ye believe + Perchance that we have knowledge of this place, + But we are strangers even as yourselves. + +Just now we came, a little while before you, + Another way, which was so rough and steep, + That mounting will henceforth seem sport to us.” + +The souls who had, from seeing me draw breath, + Become aware that I was still alive, + Pallid in their astonishment became; + +And as to messenger who bears the olive + The people throng to listen to the news, + And no one shows himself afraid of crowding, + +So at the sight of me stood motionless + Those fortunate spirits, all of them, as if + Oblivious to go and make them fair. + +One from among them saw I coming forward, + As to embrace me, with such great affection, + That it incited me to do the like. + +O empty shadows, save in aspect only! + Three times behind it did I clasp my hands, + As oft returned with them to my own breast! + +I think with wonder I depicted me; + Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew; + And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward. + +Gently it said that I should stay my steps; + Then knew I who it was, and I entreated + That it would stop awhile to speak with me. + +It made reply to me: “Even as I loved thee + In mortal body, so I love thee free; + Therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?” + +“My own Casella! to return once more + There where I am, I make this journey,” said I; + “But how from thee has so much time be taken?” + +And he to me: “No outrage has been done me, + If he who takes both when and whom he pleases + Has many times denied to me this passage, + +For of a righteous will his own is made. + He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken + Whoever wished to enter with all peace; + +Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore + Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow, + Benignantly by him have been received. + +Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed, + Because for evermore assemble there + Those who tow’rds Acheron do not descend.” + +And I: “If some new law take not from thee + Memory or practice of the song of love, + Which used to quiet in me all my longings, + +Thee may it please to comfort therewithal + Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body + Hitherward coming is so much distressed.” + +“Love, that within my mind discourses with me,” + Forthwith began he so melodiously, + The melody within me still is sounding. + +My Master, and myself, and all that people + Which with him were, appeared as satisfied + As if naught else might touch the mind of any. + +We all of us were moveless and attentive + Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, + Exclaiming: “What is this, ye laggard spirits? + +What negligence, what standing still is this? + Run to the mountain to strip off the slough, + That lets not God be manifest to you.” + +Even as when, collecting grain or tares, + The doves, together at their pasture met, + Quiet, nor showing their accustomed pride, + +If aught appear of which they are afraid, + Upon a sudden leave their food alone, + Because they are assailed by greater care; + +So that fresh company did I behold + The song relinquish, and go tow’rds the hill, + As one who goes, and knows not whitherward; + +Nor was our own departure less in haste. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto III + + +Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight + Had scattered them asunder o’er the plain, + Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us, + +I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade, + And how without him had I kept my course? + Who would have led me up along the mountain? + +He seemed to me within himself remorseful; + O noble conscience, and without a stain, + How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee! + +After his feet had laid aside the haste + Which mars the dignity of every act, + My mind, that hitherto had been restrained, + +Let loose its faculties as if delighted, + And I my sight directed to the hill + That highest tow’rds the heaven uplifts itself. + +The sun, that in our rear was flaming red, + Was broken in front of me into the figure + Which had in me the stoppage of its rays; + +Unto one side I turned me, with the fear + Of being left alone, when I beheld + Only in front of me the ground obscured. + +“Why dost thou still mistrust?” my Comforter + Began to say to me turned wholly round; + “Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee? + +’Tis evening there already where is buried + The body within which I cast a shadow; + ’Tis from Brundusium ta’en, and Naples has it. + +Now if in front of me no shadow fall, + Marvel not at it more than at the heavens, + Because one ray impedeth not another + +To suffer torments, both of cold and heat, + Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills + That how it works be not unveiled to us. + +Insane is he who hopeth that our reason + Can traverse the illimitable way, + Which the one Substance in three Persons follows! + +Mortals, remain contented at the ‘Quia;’ + For if ye had been able to see all, + No need there were for Mary to give birth; + +And ye have seen desiring without fruit, + Those whose desire would have been quieted, + Which evermore is given them for a grief. + +I speak of Aristotle and of Plato, + And many others;”—and here bowed his head, + And more he said not, and remained disturbed. + +We came meanwhile unto the mountain’s foot; + There so precipitate we found the rock, + That nimble legs would there have been in vain. + +’Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert, + The most secluded pathway is a stair + Easy and open, if compared with that. + +“Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill + Slopes down,” my Master said, his footsteps staying, + “So that who goeth without wings may mount?” + +And while he held his eyes upon the ground + Examining the nature of the path, + And I was looking up around the rock, + +On the left hand appeared to me a throng + Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction, + And did not seem to move, they came so slowly. + +“Lift up thine eyes,” I to the Master said; + “Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel, + If thou of thine own self can have it not.” + +Then he looked at me, and with frank expression + Replied: “Let us go there, for they come slowly, + And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son.” + +Still was that people as far off from us, + After a thousand steps of ours I say, + As a good thrower with his hand would reach, + +When they all crowded unto the hard masses + Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, + As he stands still to look who goes in doubt. + +“O happy dead! O spirits elect already!” + Virgilius made beginning, “by that peace + Which I believe is waiting for you all, + +Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, + So that the going up be possible, + For to lose time irks him most who most knows.” + +As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold + By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand + Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils, + +And what the foremost does the others do, + Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, + Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not; + +So moving to approach us thereupon + I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, + Modest in face and dignified in gait. + +As soon as those in the advance saw broken + The light upon the ground at my right side, + So that from me the shadow reached the rock, + +They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; + And all the others, who came after them, + Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same. + +“Without your asking, I confess to you + This is a human body which you see, + Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft. + +Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded + That not without a power which comes from Heaven + Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall.” + +The Master thus; and said those worthy people: + “Return ye then, and enter in before us,” + Making a signal with the back o’ the hand + +And one of them began: “Whoe’er thou art, + Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well + If e’er thou saw me in the other world.” + +I turned me tow’rds him, and looked at him closely; + Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect, + But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided. + +When with humility I had disclaimed + E’er having seen him, “Now behold!” he said, + And showed me high upon his breast a wound. + +Then said he with a smile: “I am Manfredi, + The grandson of the Empress Costanza; + Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee + +Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother + Of Sicily’s honour and of Aragon’s, + And the truth tell her, if aught else be told. + +After I had my body lacerated + By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself + Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon. + +Horrible my iniquities had been; + But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms, + That it receives whatever turns to it. + +Had but Cosenza’s pastor, who in chase + Of me was sent by Clement at that time, + In God read understandingly this page, + +The bones of my dead body still would be + At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento, + Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn. + +Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind, + Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde, + Where he transported them with tapers quenched. + +By malison of theirs is not so lost + Eternal Love, that it cannot return, + So long as hope has anything of green. + +True is it, who in contumacy dies + Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, + Must wait upon the outside this bank + +Thirty times told the time that he has been + In his presumption, unless such decree + Shorter by means of righteous prayers become. + +See now if thou hast power to make me happy, + By making known unto my good Costanza + How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside, + +For those on earth can much advance us here.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto IV + + +Whenever by delight or else by pain, + That seizes any faculty of ours, + Wholly to that the soul collects itself, + +It seemeth that no other power it heeds; + And this against that error is which thinks + One soul above another kindles in us. + +And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen + Which keeps the soul intently bent upon it, + Time passes on, and we perceive it not, + +Because one faculty is that which listens, + And other that which the soul keeps entire; + This is as if in bonds, and that is free. + +Of this I had experience positive + In hearing and in gazing at that spirit; + For fifty full degrees uprisen was + +The sun, and I had not perceived it, when + We came to where those souls with one accord + Cried out unto us: “Here is what you ask.” + +A greater opening ofttimes hedges up + With but a little forkful of his thorns + The villager, what time the grape imbrowns, + +Than was the passage-way through which ascended + Only my Leader and myself behind him, + After that company departed from us. + +One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli, + And mounts the summit of Bismantova, + With feet alone; but here one needs must fly; + +With the swift pinions and the plumes I say + Of great desire, conducted after him + Who gave me hope, and made a light for me. + +We mounted upward through the rifted rock, + And on each side the border pressed upon us, + And feet and hands the ground beneath required. + +When we were come upon the upper rim + Of the high bank, out on the open slope, + “My Master,” said I, “what way shall we take?” + +And he to me: “No step of thine descend; + Still up the mount behind me win thy way, + Till some sage escort shall appear to us.” + +The summit was so high it vanquished sight, + And the hillside precipitous far more + Than line from middle quadrant to the centre. + +Spent with fatigue was I, when I began: + “O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold + How I remain alone, unless thou stay!” + +“O son,” he said, “up yonder drag thyself,” + Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher, + Which on that side encircles all the hill. + +These words of his so spurred me on, that I + Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up, + Until the circle was beneath my feet. + +Thereon ourselves we seated both of us + Turned to the East, from which we had ascended, + For all men are delighted to look back. + +To the low shores mine eyes I first directed, + Then to the sun uplifted them, and wondered + That on the left hand we were smitten by it. + +The Poet well perceived that I was wholly + Bewildered at the chariot of the light, + Where ’twixt us and the Aquilon it entered. + +Whereon he said to me: “If Castor and Pollux + Were in the company of yonder mirror, + That up and down conducteth with its light, + +Thou wouldst behold the zodiac’s jagged wheel + Revolving still more near unto the Bears, + Unless it swerved aside from its old track. + +How that may be wouldst thou have power to think, + Collected in thyself, imagine Zion + Together with this mount on earth to stand, + +So that they both one sole horizon have, + And hemispheres diverse; whereby the road + Which Phaeton, alas! knew not to drive, + +Thou’lt see how of necessity must pass + This on one side, when that upon the other, + If thine intelligence right clearly heed.” + +“Truly, my Master,” said I, “never yet + Saw I so clearly as I now discern, + There where my wit appeared incompetent, + +That the mid-circle of supernal motion, + Which in some art is the Equator called, + And aye remains between the Sun and Winter, + +For reason which thou sayest, departeth hence + Tow’rds the Septentrion, what time the Hebrews + Beheld it tow’rds the region of the heat. + +But, if it pleaseth thee, I fain would learn + How far we have to go; for the hill rises + Higher than eyes of mine have power to rise.” + +And he to me: “This mount is such, that ever + At the beginning down below ’tis tiresome, + And aye the more one climbs, the less it hurts. + +Therefore, when it shall seem so pleasant to thee, + That going up shall be to thee as easy + As going down the current in a boat, + +Then at this pathway’s ending thou wilt be; + There to repose thy panting breath expect; + No more I answer; and this I know for true.” + +And as he finished uttering these words, + A voice close by us sounded: “Peradventure + Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that.” + +At sound thereof each one of us turned round, + And saw upon the left hand a great rock, + Which neither I nor he before had noticed. + +Thither we drew; and there were persons there + Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, + As one through indolence is wont to stand. + +And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued, + Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced, + Holding his face low down between them bowed. + +“O my sweet Lord,” I said, “do turn thine eye + On him who shows himself more negligent + Then even Sloth herself his sister were.” + +Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed, + Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh, + And said: “Now go thou up, for thou art valiant.” + +Then knew I who he was; and the distress, + That still a little did my breathing quicken, + My going to him hindered not; and after + +I came to him he hardly raised his head, + Saying: “Hast thou seen clearly how the sun + O’er thy left shoulder drives his chariot?” + +His sluggish attitude and his curt words + A little unto laughter moved my lips; + Then I began: “Belacqua, I grieve not + +For thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated + In this place art thou? Waitest thou an escort? + Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee?” + +And he: “O brother, what’s the use of climbing? + Since to my torment would not let me go + The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate. + +First heaven must needs so long revolve me round + Outside thereof, as in my life it did, + Since the good sighs I to the end postponed, + +Unless, e’er that, some prayer may bring me aid + Which rises from a heart that lives in grace; + What profit others that in heaven are heard not?” + +Meanwhile the Poet was before me mounting, + And saying: “Come now; see the sun has touched + Meridian, and from the shore the night + +Covers already with her foot Morocco.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto V + + +I had already from those shades departed, + And followed in the footsteps of my Guide, + When from behind, pointing his finger at me, + +One shouted: “See, it seems as if shone not + The sunshine on the left of him below, + And like one living seems he to conduct him.” + +Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words, + And saw them watching with astonishment + But me, but me, and the light which was broken! + +“Why doth thy mind so occupy itself,” + The Master said, “that thou thy pace dost slacken? + What matters it to thee what here is whispered? + +Come after me, and let the people talk; + Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags + Its top for all the blowing of the winds; + +For evermore the man in whom is springing + Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark, + Because the force of one the other weakens.” + +What could I say in answer but “I come”? + I said it somewhat with that colour tinged + Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy. + +Meanwhile along the mountain-side across + Came people in advance of us a little, + Singing the Miserere verse by verse. + +When they became aware I gave no place + For passage of the sunshine through my body, + They changed their song into a long, hoarse “Oh!” + +And two of them, in form of messengers, + Ran forth to meet us, and demanded of us, + “Of your condition make us cognisant.” + +And said my Master: “Ye can go your way + And carry back again to those who sent you, + That this one’s body is of very flesh. + +If they stood still because they saw his shadow, + As I suppose, enough is answered them; + Him let them honour, it may profit them.” + +Vapours enkindled saw I ne’er so swiftly + At early nightfall cleave the air serene, + Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August, + +But upward they returned in briefer time, + And, on arriving, with the others wheeled + Tow’rds us, like troops that run without a rein. + +“This folk that presses unto us is great, + And cometh to implore thee,” said the Poet; + “So still go onward, and in going listen.” + +“O soul that goest to beatitude + With the same members wherewith thou wast born,” + Shouting they came, “a little stay thy steps, + +Look, if thou e’er hast any of us seen, + So that o’er yonder thou bear news of him; + Ah, why dost thou go on? Ah, why not stay? + +Long since we all were slain by violence, + And sinners even to the latest hour; + Then did a light from heaven admonish us, + +So that, both penitent and pardoning, forth + From life we issued reconciled to God, + Who with desire to see Him stirs our hearts.” + +And I: “Although I gaze into your faces, + No one I recognize; but if may please you + Aught I have power to do, ye well-born spirits, + +Speak ye, and I will do it, by that peace + Which, following the feet of such a Guide, + From world to world makes itself sought by me.” + +And one began: “Each one has confidence + In thy good offices without an oath, + Unless the I cannot cut off the I will; + +Whence I, who speak alone before the others, + Pray thee, if ever thou dost see the land + That ’twixt Romagna lies and that of Charles, + +Thou be so courteous to me of thy prayers + In Fano, that they pray for me devoutly, + That I may purge away my grave offences. + +From thence was I; but the deep wounds, through which + Issued the blood wherein I had my seat, + Were dealt me in bosom of the Antenori, + +There where I thought to be the most secure; + ’Twas he of Este had it done, who held me + In hatred far beyond what justice willed. + +But if towards the Mira I had fled, + When I was overtaken at Oriaco, + I still should be o’er yonder where men breathe. + +I ran to the lagoon, and reeds and mire + Did so entangle me I fell, and saw there + A lake made from my veins upon the ground.” + +Then said another: “Ah, be that desire + Fulfilled that draws thee to the lofty mountain, + As thou with pious pity aidest mine. + +I was of Montefeltro, and am Buonconte; + Giovanna, nor none other cares for me; + Hence among these I go with downcast front.” + +And I to him: “What violence or what chance + Led thee astray so far from Campaldino, + That never has thy sepulture been known?” + +“Oh,” he replied, “at Casentino’s foot + A river crosses named Archiano, born + Above the Hermitage in Apennine. + +There where the name thereof becometh void + Did I arrive, pierced through and through the throat, + Fleeing on foot, and bloodying the plain; + +There my sight lost I, and my utterance + Ceased in the name of Mary, and thereat + I fell, and tenantless my flesh remained. + +Truth will I speak, repeat it to the living; + God’s Angel took me up, and he of hell + Shouted: ‘O thou from heaven, why dost thou rob me? + +Thou bearest away the eternal part of him, + For one poor little tear, that takes him from me; + But with the rest I’ll deal in other fashion!’ + +Well knowest thou how in the air is gathered + That humid vapour which to water turns, + Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it. + +He joined that evil will, which aye seeks evil, + To intellect, and moved the mist and wind + By means of power, which his own nature gave; + +Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley + From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered + With fog, and made the heaven above intent, + +So that the pregnant air to water changed; + Down fell the rain, and to the gullies came + Whate’er of it earth tolerated not; + +And as it mingled with the mighty torrents, + Towards the royal river with such speed + It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back. + +My frozen body near unto its outlet + The robust Archian found, and into Arno + Thrust it, and loosened from my breast the cross + +I made of me, when agony o’ercame me; + It rolled me on the banks and on the bottom, + Then with its booty covered and begirt me.” + +“Ah, when thou hast returned unto the world, + And rested thee from thy long journeying,” + After the second followed the third spirit, + +“Do thou remember me who am the Pia; + Siena made me, unmade me Maremma; + He knoweth it, who had encircled first, + +Espousing me, my finger with his gem.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto VI + + +Whene’er is broken up the game of Zara, + He who has lost remains behind despondent, + The throws repeating, and in sadness learns; + +The people with the other all depart; + One goes in front, and one behind doth pluck him, + And at his side one brings himself to mind; + +He pauses not, and this and that one hears; + They crowd no more to whom his hand he stretches, + And from the throng he thus defends himself. + +Even such was I in that dense multitude, + Turning to them this way and that my face, + And, promising, I freed myself therefrom. + +There was the Aretine, who from the arms + Untamed of Ghin di Tacco had his death, + And he who fleeing from pursuit was drowned. + +There was imploring with his hands outstretched + Frederick Novello, and that one of Pisa + Who made the good Marzucco seem so strong. + +I saw Count Orso; and the soul divided + By hatred and by envy from its body, + As it declared, and not for crime committed, + +Pierre de la Brosse I say; and here provide + While still on earth the Lady of Brabant, + So that for this she be of no worse flock! + +As soon as I was free from all those shades + Who only prayed that some one else may pray, + So as to hasten their becoming holy, + +Began I: “It appears that thou deniest, + O light of mine, expressly in some text, + That orison can bend decree of Heaven; + +And ne’ertheless these people pray for this. + Might then their expectation bootless be? + Or is to me thy saying not quite clear?” + +And he to me: “My writing is explicit, + And not fallacious is the hope of these, + If with sane intellect ’tis well regarded; + +For top of judgment doth not vail itself, + Because the fire of love fulfils at once + What he must satisfy who here installs him. + +And there, where I affirmed that proposition, + Defect was not amended by a prayer, + Because the prayer from God was separate. + +Verily, in so deep a questioning + Do not decide, unless she tell it thee, + Who light ’twixt truth and intellect shall be. + +I know not if thou understand; I speak + Of Beatrice; her shalt thou see above, + Smiling and happy, on this mountain’s top.” + +And I: “Good Leader, let us make more haste, + For I no longer tire me as before; + And see, e’en now the hill a shadow casts.” + +“We will go forward with this day” he answered, + “As far as now is possible for us; + But otherwise the fact is than thou thinkest. + +Ere thou art up there, thou shalt see return + Him, who now hides himself behind the hill, + So that thou dost not interrupt his rays. + +But yonder there behold! a soul that stationed + All, all alone is looking hitherward; + It will point out to us the quickest way.” + +We came up unto it; O Lombard soul, + How lofty and disdainful thou didst bear thee, + And grand and slow in moving of thine eyes! + +Nothing whatever did it say to us, + But let us go our way, eying us only + After the manner of a couchant lion; + +Still near to it Virgilius drew, entreating + That it would point us out the best ascent; + And it replied not unto his demand, + +But of our native land and of our life + It questioned us; and the sweet Guide began: + “Mantua,”—and the shade, all in itself recluse, + +Rose tow’rds him from the place where first it was, + Saying: “O Mantuan, I am Sordello + Of thine own land!” and one embraced the other. + +Ah! servile Italy, grief’s hostelry! + A ship without a pilot in great tempest! + No Lady thou of Provinces, but brothel! + +That noble soul was so impatient, only + At the sweet sound of his own native land, + To make its citizen glad welcome there; + +And now within thee are not without war + Thy living ones, and one doth gnaw the other + Of those whom one wall and one fosse shut in! + +Search, wretched one, all round about the shores + Thy seaboard, and then look within thy bosom, + If any part of thee enjoyeth peace! + +What boots it, that for thee Justinian + The bridle mend, if empty be the saddle? + Withouten this the shame would be the less. + +Ah! people, thou that oughtest to be devout, + And to let Caesar sit upon the saddle, + If well thou hearest what God teacheth thee, + +Behold how fell this wild beast has become, + Being no longer by the spur corrected, + Since thou hast laid thy hand upon the bridle. + +O German Albert! who abandonest + Her that has grown recalcitrant and savage, + And oughtest to bestride her saddle-bow, + +May a just judgment from the stars down fall + Upon thy blood, and be it new and open, + That thy successor may have fear thereof; + +Because thy father and thyself have suffered, + By greed of those transalpine lands distrained, + The garden of the empire to be waste. + +Come and behold Montecchi and Cappelletti, + Monaldi and Fillippeschi, careless man! + Those sad already, and these doubt-depressed! + +Come, cruel one! come and behold the oppression + Of thy nobility, and cure their wounds, + And thou shalt see how safe is Santafiore! + +Come and behold thy Rome, that is lamenting, + Widowed, alone, and day and night exclaims, + “My Caesar, why hast thou forsaken me?” + +Come and behold how loving are the people; + And if for us no pity moveth thee, + Come and be made ashamed of thy renown! + +And if it lawful be, O Jove Supreme! + Who upon earth for us wast crucified, + Are thy just eyes averted otherwhere? + +Or preparation is ’t, that, in the abyss + Of thine own counsel, for some good thou makest + From our perception utterly cut off? + +For all the towns of Italy are full + Of tyrants, and becometh a Marcellus + Each peasant churl who plays the partisan! + +My Florence! well mayst thou contented be + With this digression, which concerns thee not, + Thanks to thy people who such forethought take! + +Many at heart have justice, but shoot slowly, + That unadvised they come not to the bow, + But on their very lips thy people have it! + +Many refuse to bear the common burden; + But thy solicitous people answereth + Without being asked, and crieth: “I submit.” + +Now be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason; + Thou affluent, thou in peace, thou full of wisdom! + If I speak true, the event conceals it not. + +Athens and Lacedaemon, they who made + The ancient laws, and were so civilized, + Made towards living well a little sign + +Compared with thee, who makest such fine-spun + Provisions, that to middle of November + Reaches not what thou in October spinnest. + +How oft, within the time of thy remembrance, + Laws, money, offices, and usages + Hast thou remodelled, and renewed thy members? + +And if thou mind thee well, and see the light, + Thou shalt behold thyself like a sick woman, + Who cannot find repose upon her down, + +But by her tossing wardeth off her pain. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto VII + + +After the gracious and glad salutations + Had three and four times been reiterated, + Sordello backward drew and said, “Who are you?” + +“Or ever to this mountain were directed + The souls deserving to ascend to God, + My bones were buried by Octavian. + +I am Virgilius; and for no crime else + Did I lose heaven, than for not having faith;” + In this wise then my Leader made reply. + +As one who suddenly before him sees + Something whereat he marvels, who believes + And yet does not, saying, “It is! it is not!” + +So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow, + And with humility returned towards him, + And, where inferiors embrace, embraced him. + +“O glory of the Latians, thou,” he said, + “Through whom our language showed what it could do + O pride eternal of the place I came from, + +What merit or what grace to me reveals thee? + If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell me + If thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister.” + +“Through all the circles of the doleful realm,” + Responded he, “have I come hitherward; + Heaven’s power impelled me, and with that I come. + +I by not doing, not by doing, lost + The sight of that high sun which thou desirest, + And which too late by me was recognized. + +A place there is below not sad with torments, + But darkness only, where the lamentations + Have not the sound of wailing, but are sighs. + +There dwell I with the little innocents + Snatched by the teeth of Death, or ever they + Were from our human sinfulness exempt. + +There dwell I among those who the three saintly + Virtues did not put on, and without vice + The others knew and followed all of them. + +But if thou know and can, some indication + Give us by which we may the sooner come + Where Purgatory has its right beginning.” + +He answered: “No fixed place has been assigned us; + ’Tis lawful for me to go up and round; + So far as I can go, as guide I join thee. + +But see already how the day declines, + And to go up by night we are not able; + Therefore ’tis well to think of some fair sojourn. + +Souls are there on the right hand here withdrawn; + If thou permit me I will lead thee to them, + And thou shalt know them not without delight.” + +“How is this?” was the answer; “should one wish + To mount by night would he prevented be + By others? or mayhap would not have power?” + +And on the ground the good Sordello drew + His finger, saying, “See, this line alone + Thou couldst not pass after the sun is gone; + +Not that aught else would hindrance give, however, + To going up, save the nocturnal darkness; + This with the want of power the will perplexes. + +We might indeed therewith return below, + And, wandering, walk the hill-side round about, + While the horizon holds the day imprisoned.” + +Thereon my Lord, as if in wonder, said: + “Do thou conduct us thither, where thou sayest + That we can take delight in tarrying.” + +Little had we withdrawn us from that place, + When I perceived the mount was hollowed out + In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed. + +“Thitherward,” said that shade, “will we repair, + Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap, + And there for the new day will we await.” + +’Twixt hill and plain there was a winding path + Which led us to the margin of that dell, + Where dies the border more than half away. + +Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white, + The Indian wood resplendent and serene, + Fresh emerald the moment it is broken, + +By herbage and by flowers within that hollow + Planted, each one in colour would be vanquished, + As by its greater vanquished is the less. + +Nor in that place had nature painted only, + But of the sweetness of a thousand odours + Made there a mingled fragrance and unknown. + +“Salve Regina,” on the green and flowers + There seated, singing, spirits I beheld, + Which were not visible outside the valley. + +“Before the scanty sun now seeks his nest,” + Began the Mantuan who had led us thither, + “Among them do not wish me to conduct you. + +Better from off this ledge the acts and faces + Of all of them will you discriminate, + Than in the plain below received among them. + +He who sits highest, and the semblance bears + Of having what he should have done neglected, + And to the others’ song moves not his lips, + +Rudolph the Emperor was, who had the power + To heal the wounds that Italy have slain, + So that through others slowly she revives. + +The other, who in look doth comfort him, + Governed the region where the water springs, + The Moldau bears the Elbe, and Elbe the sea. + +His name was Ottocar; and in swaddling-clothes + Far better he than bearded Winceslaus + His son, who feeds in luxury and ease. + +And the small-nosed, who close in council seems + With him that has an aspect so benign, + Died fleeing and disflowering the lily; + +Look there, how he is beating at his breast! + Behold the other one, who for his cheek + Sighing has made of his own palm a bed; + +Father and father-in-law of France’s Pest + Are they, and know his vicious life and lewd, + And hence proceeds the grief that so doth pierce them. + +He who appears so stalwart, and chimes in, + Singing, with that one of the manly nose, + The cord of every valour wore begirt; + +And if as King had after him remained + The stripling who in rear of him is sitting, + Well had the valour passed from vase to vase, + +Which cannot of the other heirs be said. + Frederick and Jacomo possess the realms, + But none the better heritage possesses. + +Not oftentimes upriseth through the branches + The probity of man; and this He wills + Who gives it, so that we may ask of Him. + +Eke to the large-nosed reach my words, no less + Than to the other, Pier, who with him sings; + Whence Provence and Apulia grieve already + +The plant is as inferior to its seed, + As more than Beatrice and Margaret + Costanza boasteth of her husband still. + +Behold the monarch of the simple life, + Harry of England, sitting there alone; + He in his branches has a better issue. + +He who the lowest on the ground among them + Sits looking upward, is the Marquis William, + For whose sake Alessandria and her war + +Make Monferrat and Canavese weep.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto VIII + + +’Twas now the hour that turneth back desire + In those who sail the sea, and melts the heart, + The day they’ve said to their sweet friends farewell, + +And the new pilgrim penetrates with love, + If he doth hear from far away a bell + That seemeth to deplore the dying day, + +When I began to make of no avail + My hearing, and to watch one of the souls + Uprisen, that begged attention with its hand. + +It joined and lifted upward both its palms, + Fixing its eyes upon the orient, + As if it said to God, “Naught else I care for.” + +“Te lucis ante” so devoutly issued + Forth from its mouth, and with such dulcet notes, + It made me issue forth from my own mind. + +And then the others, sweetly and devoutly, + Accompanied it through all the hymn entire, + Having their eyes on the supernal wheels. + +Here, Reader, fix thine eyes well on the truth, + For now indeed so subtile is the veil, + Surely to penetrate within is easy. + +I saw that army of the gentle-born + Thereafterward in silence upward gaze, + As if in expectation, pale and humble; + +And from on high come forth and down descend, + I saw two Angels with two flaming swords, + Truncated and deprived of their points. + +Green as the little leaflets just now born + Their garments were, which, by their verdant pinions + Beaten and blown abroad, they trailed behind. + +One just above us came to take his station, + And one descended to the opposite bank, + So that the people were contained between them. + +Clearly in them discerned I the blond head; + But in their faces was the eye bewildered, + As faculty confounded by excess. + +“From Mary’s bosom both of them have come,” + Sordello said, “as guardians of the valley + Against the serpent, that will come anon.” + +Whereupon I, who knew not by what road, + Turned round about, and closely drew myself, + Utterly frozen, to the faithful shoulders. + +And once again Sordello: “Now descend we + ’Mid the grand shades, and we will speak to them; + Right pleasant will it be for them to see you.” + +Only three steps I think that I descended, + And was below, and saw one who was looking + Only at me, as if he fain would know me. + +Already now the air was growing dark, + But not so that between his eyes and mine + It did not show what it before locked up. + +Tow’rds me he moved, and I tow’rds him did move; + Noble Judge Nino! how it me delighted, + When I beheld thee not among the damned! + +No greeting fair was left unsaid between us; + Then asked he: “How long is it since thou camest + O’er the far waters to the mountain’s foot?” + +“Oh!” said I to him, “through the dismal places + I came this morn; and am in the first life, + Albeit the other, going thus, I gain.” + +And on the instant my reply was heard, + He and Sordello both shrank back from me, + Like people who are suddenly bewildered. + +One to Virgilius, and the other turned + To one who sat there, crying, “Up, Currado! + Come and behold what God in grace has willed!” + +Then, turned to me: “By that especial grace + Thou owest unto Him, who so conceals + His own first wherefore, that it has no ford, + +When thou shalt be beyond the waters wide, + Tell my Giovanna that she pray for me, + Where answer to the innocent is made. + +I do not think her mother loves me more, + Since she has laid aside her wimple white, + Which she, unhappy, needs must wish again. + +Through her full easily is comprehended + How long in woman lasts the fire of love, + If eye or touch do not relight it often. + +So fair a hatchment will not make for her + The Viper marshalling the Milanese + A-field, as would have made Gallura’s Cock.” + +In this wise spake he, with the stamp impressed + Upon his aspect of that righteous zeal + Which measurably burneth in the heart. + +My greedy eyes still wandered up to heaven, + Still to that point where slowest are the stars, + Even as a wheel the nearest to its axle. + +And my Conductor: “Son, what dost thou gaze at + Up there?” And I to him: “At those three torches + With which this hither pole is all on fire.” + +And he to me: “The four resplendent stars + Thou sawest this morning are down yonder low, + And these have mounted up to where those were.” + +As he was speaking, to himself Sordello + Drew him, and said, “Lo there our Adversary!” + And pointed with his finger to look thither. + +Upon the side on which the little valley + No barrier hath, a serpent was; perchance + The same which gave to Eve the bitter food. + +’Twixt grass and flowers came on the evil streak, + Turning at times its head about, and licking + Its back like to a beast that smoothes itself. + +I did not see, and therefore cannot say + How the celestial falcons ’gan to move, + But well I saw that they were both in motion. + +Hearing the air cleft by their verdant wings, + The serpent fled, and round the Angels wheeled, + Up to their stations flying back alike. + +The shade that to the Judge had near approached + When he had called, throughout that whole assault + Had not a moment loosed its gaze on me. + +“So may the light that leadeth thee on high + Find in thine own free-will as much of wax + As needful is up to the highest azure,” + +Began it, “if some true intelligence + Of Valdimagra or its neighbourhood + Thou knowest, tell it me, who once was great there. + +Currado Malaspina was I called; + I’m not the elder, but from him descended; + To mine I bore the love which here refineth.” + +“O,” said I unto him, “through your domains + I never passed, but where is there a dwelling + Throughout all Europe, where they are not known? + +That fame, which doeth honour to your house, + Proclaims its Signors and proclaims its land, + So that he knows of them who ne’er was there. + +And, as I hope for heaven, I swear to you + Your honoured family in naught abates + The glory of the purse and of the sword. + +It is so privileged by use and nature, + That though a guilty head misguide the world, + Sole it goes right, and scorns the evil way.” + +And he: “Now go; for the sun shall not lie + Seven times upon the pillow which the Ram + With all his four feet covers and bestrides, + +Before that such a courteous opinion + Shall in the middle of thy head be nailed + With greater nails than of another’s speech, + +Unless the course of justice standeth still.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto IX + + +The concubine of old Tithonus now + Gleamed white upon the eastern balcony, + Forth from the arms of her sweet paramour; + +With gems her forehead all relucent was, + Set in the shape of that cold animal + Which with its tail doth smite amain the nations, + +And of the steps, with which she mounts, the Night + Had taken two in that place where we were, + And now the third was bending down its wings; + +When I, who something had of Adam in me, + Vanquished by sleep, upon the grass reclined, + There were all five of us already sat. + +Just at the hour when her sad lay begins + The little swallow, near unto the morning, + Perchance in memory of her former woes, + +And when the mind of man, a wanderer + More from the flesh, and less by thought imprisoned, + Almost prophetic in its visions is, + +In dreams it seemed to me I saw suspended + An eagle in the sky, with plumes of gold, + With wings wide open, and intent to stoop, + +And this, it seemed to me, was where had been + By Ganymede his kith and kin abandoned, + When to the high consistory he was rapt. + +I thought within myself, perchance he strikes + From habit only here, and from elsewhere + Disdains to bear up any in his feet. + +Then wheeling somewhat more, it seemed to me, + Terrible as the lightning he descended, + And snatched me upward even to the fire. + +Therein it seemed that he and I were burning, + And the imagined fire did scorch me so, + That of necessity my sleep was broken. + +Not otherwise Achilles started up, + Around him turning his awakened eyes, + And knowing not the place in which he was, + +What time from Chiron stealthily his mother + Carried him sleeping in her arms to Scyros, + Wherefrom the Greeks withdrew him afterwards, + +Than I upstarted, when from off my face + Sleep fled away; and pallid I became, + As doth the man who freezes with affright. + +Only my Comforter was at my side, + And now the sun was more than two hours high, + And turned towards the sea-shore was my face. + +“Be not intimidated,” said my Lord, + “Be reassured, for all is well with us; + Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength. + +Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory; + See there the cliff that closes it around; + See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined. + +Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day, + When inwardly thy spirit was asleep + Upon the flowers that deck the land below, + +There came a Lady and said: ‘I am Lucia; + Let me take this one up, who is asleep; + So will I make his journey easier for him.’ + +Sordello and the other noble shapes + Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright, + Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps. + +She laid thee here; and first her beauteous eyes + That open entrance pointed out to me; + Then she and sleep together went away.” + +In guise of one whose doubts are reassured, + And who to confidence his fear doth change, + After the truth has been discovered to him, + +So did I change; and when without disquiet + My Leader saw me, up along the cliff + He moved, and I behind him, tow’rd the height. + +Reader, thou seest well how I exalt + My theme, and therefore if with greater art + I fortify it, marvel not thereat. + +Nearer approached we, and were in such place, + That there, where first appeared to me a rift + Like to a crevice that disparts a wall, + +I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath, + Diverse in colour, to go up to it, + And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word. + +And as I opened more and more mine eyes, + I saw him seated on the highest stair, + Such in the face that I endured it not. + +And in his hand he had a naked sword, + Which so reflected back the sunbeams tow’rds us, + That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes. + +“Tell it from where you are, what is’t you wish?” + Began he to exclaim; “where is the escort? + Take heed your coming hither harm you not!” + +“A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant,” + My Master answered him, “but even now + Said to us, ‘Thither go; there is the portal.’” + +“And may she speed your footsteps in all good,” + Again began the courteous janitor; + “Come forward then unto these stairs of ours.” + +Thither did we approach; and the first stair + Was marble white, so polished and so smooth, + I mirrored myself therein as I appear. + +The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse, + Was of a calcined and uneven stone, + Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across. + +The third, that uppermost rests massively, + Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red + As blood that from a vein is spirting forth. + +Both of his feet was holding upon this + The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated, + Which seemed to me a stone of diamond. + +Along the three stairs upward with good will + Did my Conductor draw me, saying: “Ask + Humbly that he the fastening may undo.” + +Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me, + For mercy’s sake besought that he would open, + But first upon my breast three times I smote. + +Seven P’s upon my forehead he described + With the sword’s point, and, “Take heed that thou wash + These wounds, when thou shalt be within,” he said. + +Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated, + Of the same colour were with his attire, + And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. + +One was of gold, and the other was of silver; + First with the white, and after with the yellow, + Plied he the door, so that I was content. + +“Whenever faileth either of these keys + So that it turn not rightly in the lock,” + He said to us, “this entrance doth not open. + +More precious one is, but the other needs + More art and intellect ere it unlock, + For it is that which doth the knot unloose. + +From Peter I have them; and he bade me err + Rather in opening than in keeping shut, + If people but fall down before my feet.” + +Then pushed the portals of the sacred door, + Exclaiming: “Enter; but I give you warning + That forth returns whoever looks behind.” + +And when upon their hinges were turned round + The swivels of that consecrated gate, + Which are of metal, massive and sonorous, + +Roared not so loud, nor so discordant seemed + Tarpeia, when was ta’en from it the good + Metellus, wherefore meagre it remained. + +At the first thunder-peal I turned attentive, + And “Te Deum laudamus” seemed to hear + In voices mingled with sweet melody. + +Exactly such an image rendered me + That which I heard, as we are wont to catch, + When people singing with the organ stand; + +For now we hear, and now hear not, the words. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto X + + +When we had crossed the threshold of the door + Which the perverted love of souls disuses, + Because it makes the crooked way seem straight, + +Re-echoing I heard it closed again; + And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it, + What for my failing had been fit excuse? + +We mounted upward through a rifted rock, + Which undulated to this side and that, + Even as a wave receding and advancing. + +“Here it behoves us use a little art,” + Began my Leader, “to adapt ourselves + Now here, now there, to the receding side.” + +And this our footsteps so infrequent made, + That sooner had the moon’s decreasing disk + Regained its bed to sink again to rest, + +Than we were forth from out that needle’s eye; + But when we free and in the open were, + There where the mountain backward piles itself, + +I wearied out, and both of us uncertain + About our way, we stopped upon a plain + More desolate than roads across the deserts. + +From where its margin borders on the void, + To foot of the high bank that ever rises, + A human body three times told would measure; + +And far as eye of mine could wing its flight, + Now on the left, and on the right flank now, + The same this cornice did appear to me. + +Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet, + When I perceived the embankment round about, + Which all right of ascent had interdicted, + +To be of marble white, and so adorned + With sculptures, that not only Polycletus, + But Nature’s self, had there been put to shame. + +The Angel, who came down to earth with tidings + Of peace, that had been wept for many a year, + And opened Heaven from its long interdict, + +In front of us appeared so truthfully + There sculptured in a gracious attitude, + He did not seem an image that is silent. + +One would have sworn that he was saying, “Ave;” + For she was there in effigy portrayed + Who turned the key to ope the exalted love, + +And in her mien this language had impressed, + “Ecce ancilla Dei,” as distinctly + As any figure stamps itself in wax. + +“Keep not thy mind upon one place alone,” + The gentle Master said, who had me standing + Upon that side where people have their hearts; + +Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld + In rear of Mary, and upon that side + Where he was standing who conducted me, + +Another story on the rock imposed; + Wherefore I passed Virgilius and drew near, + So that before mine eyes it might be set. + +There sculptured in the self-same marble were + The cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark, + Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed. + +People appeared in front, and all of them + In seven choirs divided, of two senses + Made one say “No,” the other, “Yes, they sing.” + +Likewise unto the smoke of the frankincense, + Which there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose + Were in the yes and no discordant made. + +Preceded there the vessel benedight, + Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist, + And more and less than King was he in this. + +Opposite, represented at the window + Of a great palace, Michal looked upon him, + Even as a woman scornful and afflicted. + +I moved my feet from where I had been standing, + To examine near at hand another story, + Which after Michal glimmered white upon me. + +There the high glory of the Roman Prince + Was chronicled, whose great beneficence + Moved Gregory to his great victory; + +’Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; + And a poor widow at his bridle stood, + In attitude of weeping and of grief. + +Around about him seemed it thronged and full + Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold + Above them visibly in the wind were moving. + +The wretched woman in the midst of these + Seemed to be saying: “Give me vengeance, Lord, + For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking.” + +And he to answer her: “Now wait until + I shall return.” And she: “My Lord,” like one + In whom grief is impatient, “shouldst thou not + +Return?” And he: “Who shall be where I am + Will give it thee.” And she: “Good deed of others + What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?” + +Whence he: “Now comfort thee, for it behoves me + That I discharge my duty ere I move; + Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me.” + +He who on no new thing has ever looked + Was the creator of this visible language, + Novel to us, for here it is not found. + +While I delighted me in contemplating + The images of such humility, + And dear to look on for their Maker’s sake, + +“Behold, upon this side, but rare they make + Their steps,” the Poet murmured, “many people; + These will direct us to the lofty stairs.” + +Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent + To see new things, of which they curious are, + In turning round towards him were not slow. + +But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve + From thy good purposes, because thou hearest + How God ordaineth that the debt be paid; + +Attend not to the fashion of the torment, + Think of what follows; think that at the worst + It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence. + +“Master,” began I, “that which I behold + Moving towards us seems to me not persons, + And what I know not, so in sight I waver.” + +And he to me: “The grievous quality + Of this their torment bows them so to earth, + That my own eyes at first contended with it; + +But look there fixedly, and disentangle + By sight what cometh underneath those stones; + Already canst thou see how each is stricken.” + +O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones! + Who, in the vision of the mind infirm + Confidence have in your backsliding steps, + +Do ye not comprehend that we are worms, + Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly + That flieth unto judgment without screen? + +Why floats aloft your spirit high in air? + Like are ye unto insects undeveloped, + Even as the worm in whom formation fails! + +As to sustain a ceiling or a roof, + In place of corbel, oftentimes a figure + Is seen to join its knees unto its breast, + +Which makes of the unreal real anguish + Arise in him who sees it, fashioned thus + Beheld I those, when I had ta’en good heed. + +True is it, they were more or less bent down, + According as they more or less were laden; + And he who had most patience in his looks + +Weeping did seem to say, “I can no more!” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XI + + +“Our Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens, + Not circumscribed, but from the greater love + Thou bearest to the first effects on high, + +Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence + By every creature, as befitting is + To render thanks to thy sweet effluence. + +Come unto us the peace of thy dominion, + For unto it we cannot of ourselves, + If it come not, with all our intellect. + +Even as thine own Angels of their will + Make sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing, + So may all men make sacrifice of theirs. + +Give unto us this day our daily manna, + Withouten which in this rough wilderness + Backward goes he who toils most to advance. + +And even as we the trespass we have suffered + Pardon in one another, pardon thou + Benignly, and regard not our desert. + +Our virtue, which is easily o’ercome, + Put not to proof with the old Adversary, + But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver. + +This last petition verily, dear Lord, + Not for ourselves is made, who need it not, + But for their sake who have remained behind us.” + +Thus for themselves and us good furtherance + Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight + Like unto that of which we sometimes dream, + +Unequally in anguish round and round + And weary all, upon that foremost cornice, + Purging away the smoke-stains of the world. + +If there good words are always said for us, + What may not here be said and done for them, + By those who have a good root to their will? + +Well may we help them wash away the marks + That hence they carried, so that clean and light + They may ascend unto the starry wheels! + +“Ah! so may pity and justice you disburden + Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing, + That shall uplift you after your desire, + +Show us on which hand tow’rd the stairs the way + Is shortest, and if more than one the passes, + Point us out that which least abruptly falls; + +For he who cometh with me, through the burden + Of Adam’s flesh wherewith he is invested, + Against his will is chary of his climbing.” + +The words of theirs which they returned to those + That he whom I was following had spoken, + It was not manifest from whom they came, + +But it was said: “To the right hand come with us + Along the bank, and ye shall find a pass + Possible for living person to ascend. + +And were I not impeded by the stone, + Which this proud neck of mine doth subjugate, + Whence I am forced to hold my visage down, + +Him, who still lives and does not name himself, + Would I regard, to see if I may know him + And make him piteous unto this burden. + +A Latian was I, and born of a great Tuscan; + Guglielmo Aldobrandeschi was my father; + I know not if his name were ever with you. + +The ancient blood and deeds of gallantry + Of my progenitors so arrogant made me + That, thinking not upon the common mother, + +All men I held in scorn to such extent + I died therefor, as know the Sienese, + And every child in Campagnatico. + +I am Omberto; and not to me alone + Has pride done harm, but all my kith and kin + Has with it dragged into adversity. + +And here must I this burden bear for it + Till God be satisfied, since I did not + Among the living, here among the dead.” + +Listening I downward bent my countenance; + And one of them, not this one who was speaking, + Twisted himself beneath the weight that cramps him, + +And looked at me, and knew me, and called out, + Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed + On me, who all bowed down was going with them. + +“O,” asked I him, “art thou not Oderisi, + Agobbio’s honour, and honour of that art + Which is in Paris called illuminating?” + +“Brother,” said he, “more laughing are the leaves + Touched by the brush of Franco Bolognese; + All his the honour now, and mine in part. + +In sooth I had not been so courteous + While I was living, for the great desire + Of excellence, on which my heart was bent. + +Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture; + And yet I should not be here, were it not + That, having power to sin, I turned to God. + +O thou vain glory of the human powers, + How little green upon thy summit lingers, + If’t be not followed by an age of grossness! + +In painting Cimabue thought that he + Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry, + So that the other’s fame is growing dim. + +So has one Guido from the other taken + The glory of our tongue, and he perchance + Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both. + +Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath + Of wind, that comes now this way and now that, + And changes name, because it changes side. + +What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off + From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead + Before thou left the ‘pappo’ and the ‘dindi,’ + +Ere pass a thousand years? which is a shorter + Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye + Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest. + +With him, who takes so little of the road + In front of me, all Tuscany resounded; + And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, + +Where he was lord, what time was overthrown + The Florentine delirium, that superb + Was at that day as now ’tis prostitute. + +Your reputation is the colour of grass + Which comes and goes, and that discolours it + By which it issues green from out the earth.” + +And I: “Thy true speech fills my heart with good + Humility, and great tumour thou assuagest; + But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest?” + +“That,” he replied, “is Provenzan Salvani, + And he is here because he had presumed + To bring Siena all into his hands. + +He has gone thus, and goeth without rest + E’er since he died; such money renders back + In payment he who is on earth too daring.” + +And I: “If every spirit who awaits + The verge of life before that he repent, + Remains below there and ascends not hither, + +(Unless good orison shall him bestead,) + Until as much time as he lived be passed, + How was the coming granted him in largess?” + +“When he in greatest splendour lived,” said he, + “Freely upon the Campo of Siena, + All shame being laid aside, he placed himself; + +And there to draw his friend from the duress + Which in the prison-house of Charles he suffered, + He brought himself to tremble in each vein. + +I say no more, and know that I speak darkly; + Yet little time shall pass before thy neighbours + Will so demean themselves that thou canst gloss it. + +This action has released him from those confines.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XII + + +Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, + I with that heavy-laden soul went on, + As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; + +But when he said, “Leave him, and onward pass, + For here ’tis good that with the sail and oars, + As much as may be, each push on his barque;” + +Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed + My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts + Remained within me downcast and abashed. + +I had moved on, and followed willingly + The footsteps of my Master, and we both + Already showed how light of foot we were, + +When unto me he said: “Cast down thine eyes; + ’Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way, + To look upon the bed beneath thy feet.” + +As, that some memory may exist of them, + Above the buried dead their tombs in earth + Bear sculptured on them what they were before; + +Whence often there we weep for them afresh, + From pricking of remembrance, which alone + To the compassionate doth set its spur; + +So saw I there, but of a better semblance + In point of artifice, with figures covered + Whate’er as pathway from the mount projects. + +I saw that one who was created noble + More than all other creatures, down from heaven + Flaming with lightnings fall upon one side. + +I saw Briareus smitten by the dart + Celestial, lying on the other side, + Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost. + +I saw Thymbraeus, Pallas saw, and Mars, + Still clad in armour round about their father, + Gaze at the scattered members of the giants. + +I saw, at foot of his great labour, Nimrod, + As if bewildered, looking at the people + Who had been proud with him in Sennaar. + +O Niobe! with what afflicted eyes + Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced, + Between thy seven and seven children slain! + +O Saul! how fallen upon thy proper sword + Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa, + That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew! + +O mad Arachne! so I thee beheld + E’en then half spider, sad upon the shreds + Of fabric wrought in evil hour for thee! + +O Rehoboam! no more seems to threaten + Thine image there; but full of consternation + A chariot bears it off, when none pursues! + +Displayed moreo’er the adamantine pavement + How unto his own mother made Alcmaeon + Costly appear the luckless ornament; + +Displayed how his own sons did throw themselves + Upon Sennacherib within the temple, + And how, he being dead, they left him there; + +Displayed the ruin and the cruel carnage + That Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said, + “Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut thee!” + +Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians + After that Holofernes had been slain, + And likewise the remainder of that slaughter. + +I saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns; + O Ilion! thee, how abject and debased, + Displayed the image that is there discerned! + +Whoe’er of pencil master was or stile, + That could portray the shades and traits which there + Would cause each subtile genius to admire? + +Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive; + Better than I saw not who saw the truth, + All that I trod upon while bowed I went. + +Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted, + Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces + So that ye may behold your evil ways! + +More of the mount by us was now encompassed, + And far more spent the circuit of the sun, + Than had the mind preoccupied imagined, + +When he, who ever watchful in advance + Was going on, began: “Lift up thy head, + ’Tis no more time to go thus meditating. + +Lo there an Angel who is making haste + To come towards us; lo, returning is + From service of the day the sixth handmaiden. + +With reverence thine acts and looks adorn, + So that he may delight to speed us upward; + Think that this day will never dawn again.” + +I was familiar with his admonition + Ever to lose no time; so on this theme + He could not unto me speak covertly. + +Towards us came the being beautiful + Vested in white, and in his countenance + Such as appears the tremulous morning star. + +His arms he opened, and opened then his wings; + “Come,” said he, “near at hand here are the steps, + And easy from henceforth is the ascent.” + +At this announcement few are they who come! + O human creatures, born to soar aloft, + Why fall ye thus before a little wind? + +He led us on to where the rock was cleft; + There smote upon my forehead with his wings, + Then a safe passage promised unto me. + +As on the right hand, to ascend the mount + Where seated is the church that lordeth it + O’er the well-guided, above Rubaconte, + +The bold abruptness of the ascent is broken + By stairways that were made there in the age + When still were safe the ledger and the stave, + +E’en thus attempered is the bank which falls + Sheer downward from the second circle there; + But on this, side and that the high rock graze. + +As we were turning thitherward our persons, + “Beati pauperes spiritu,” voices + Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not. + +Ah me! how different are these entrances + From the Infernal! for with anthems here + One enters, and below with wild laments. + +We now were hunting up the sacred stairs, + And it appeared to me by far more easy + Than on the plain it had appeared before. + +Whence I: “My Master, say, what heavy thing + Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly + Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking?” + +He answered: “When the P’s which have remained + Still on thy face almost obliterate + Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased, + +Thy feet will be so vanquished by good will, + That not alone they shall not feel fatigue, + But urging up will be to them delight.” + +Then did I even as they do who are going + With something on the head to them unknown, + Unless the signs of others make them doubt, + +Wherefore the hand to ascertain is helpful, + And seeks and finds, and doth fulfill the office + Which cannot be accomplished by the sight; + +And with the fingers of the right hand spread + I found but six the letters, that had carved + Upon my temples he who bore the keys; + +Upon beholding which my Leader smiled. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XIII + + +We were upon the summit of the stairs, + Where for the second time is cut away + The mountain, which ascending shriveth all. + +There in like manner doth a cornice bind + The hill all round about, as does the first, + Save that its arc more suddenly is curved. + +Shade is there none, nor sculpture that appears; + So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth, + With but the livid colour of the stone. + +“If to inquire we wait for people here,” + The Poet said, “I fear that peradventure + Too much delay will our election have.” + +Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed, + Made his right side the centre of his motion, + And turned the left part of himself about. + +“O thou sweet light! with trust in whom I enter + Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us,” + Said he, “as one within here should be led. + +Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over it; + If other reason prompt not otherwise, + Thy rays should evermore our leaders be!” + +As much as here is counted for a mile, + So much already there had we advanced + In little time, by dint of ready will; + +And tow’rds us there were heard to fly, albeit + They were not visible, spirits uttering + Unto Love’s table courteous invitations, + +The first voice that passed onward in its flight, + “Vinum non habent,” said in accents loud, + And went reiterating it behind us. + +And ere it wholly grew inaudible + Because of distance, passed another, crying, + “I am Orestes!” and it also stayed not. + +“O,” said I, “Father, these, what voices are they?” + And even as I asked, behold the third, + Saying: “Love those from whom ye have had evil!” + +And the good Master said: “This circle scourges + The sin of envy, and on that account + Are drawn from love the lashes of the scourge. + +The bridle of another sound shall be; + I think that thou wilt hear it, as I judge, + Before thou comest to the Pass of Pardon. + +But fix thine eyes athwart the air right steadfast, + And people thou wilt see before us sitting, + And each one close against the cliff is seated.” + +Then wider than at first mine eyes I opened; + I looked before me, and saw shades with mantles + Not from the colour of the stone diverse. + +And when we were a little farther onward, + I heard a cry of, “Mary, pray for us!” + A cry of, “Michael, Peter, and all Saints!” + +I do not think there walketh still on earth + A man so hard, that he would not be pierced + With pity at what afterward I saw. + +For when I had approached so near to them + That manifest to me their acts became, + Drained was I at the eyes by heavy grief. + +Covered with sackcloth vile they seemed to me, + And one sustained the other with his shoulder, + And all of them were by the bank sustained. + +Thus do the blind, in want of livelihood, + Stand at the doors of churches asking alms, + And one upon another leans his head, + +So that in others pity soon may rise, + Not only at the accent of their words, + But at their aspect, which no less implores. + +And as unto the blind the sun comes not, + So to the shades, of whom just now I spake, + Heaven’s light will not be bounteous of itself; + +For all their lids an iron wire transpierces, + And sews them up, as to a sparhawk wild + Is done, because it will not quiet stay. + +To me it seemed, in passing, to do outrage, + Seeing the others without being seen; + Wherefore I turned me to my counsel sage. + +Well knew he what the mute one wished to say, + And therefore waited not for my demand, + But said: “Speak, and be brief, and to the point.” + +I had Virgilius upon that side + Of the embankment from which one may fall, + Since by no border ’tis engarlanded; + +Upon the other side of me I had + The shades devout, who through the horrible seam + Pressed out the tears so that they bathed their cheeks. + +To them I turned me, and, “O people, certain,” + Began I, “of beholding the high light, + Which your desire has solely in its care, + +So may grace speedily dissolve the scum + Upon your consciences, that limpidly + Through them descend the river of the mind, + +Tell me, for dear ’twill be to me and gracious, + If any soul among you here is Latian, + And ’twill perchance be good for him I learn it.” + +“O brother mine, each one is citizen + Of one true city; but thy meaning is, + Who may have lived in Italy a pilgrim.” + +By way of answer this I seemed to hear + A little farther on than where I stood, + Whereat I made myself still nearer heard. + +Among the rest I saw a shade that waited + In aspect, and should any one ask how, + Its chin it lifted upward like a blind man. + +“Spirit,” I said, “who stoopest to ascend, + If thou art he who did reply to me, + Make thyself known to me by place or name.” + +“Sienese was I,” it replied, “and with + The others here recleanse my guilty life, + Weeping to Him to lend himself to us. + +Sapient I was not, although I Sapia + Was called, and I was at another’s harm + More happy far than at my own good fortune. + +And that thou mayst not think that I deceive thee, + Hear if I was as foolish as I tell thee. + The arc already of my years descending, + +My fellow-citizens near unto Colle + Were joined in battle with their adversaries, + And I was praying God for what he willed. + +Routed were they, and turned into the bitter + Passes of flight; and I, the chase beholding, + A joy received unequalled by all others; + +So that I lifted upward my bold face + Crying to God, ‘Henceforth I fear thee not,’ + As did the blackbird at the little sunshine. + +Peace I desired with God at the extreme + Of my existence, and as yet would not + My debt have been by penitence discharged, + +Had it not been that in remembrance held me + Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers, + Who out of charity was grieved for me. + +But who art thou, that into our conditions + Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound + As I believe, and breathing dost discourse?” + +“Mine eyes,” I said, “will yet be here ta’en from me, + But for short space; for small is the offence + Committed by their being turned with envy. + +Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended + My soul is, of the torment underneath, + For even now the load down there weighs on me.” + +And she to me: “Who led thee, then, among us + Up here, if to return below thou thinkest?” + And I: “He who is with me, and speaks not; + +And living am I; therefore ask of me, + Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move + O’er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee.” + +“O, this is such a novel thing to hear,” + She answered, “that great sign it is God loves thee; + Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me. + +And I implore, by what thou most desirest, + If e’er thou treadest the soil of Tuscany, + Well with my kindred reinstate my fame. + +Them wilt thou see among that people vain + Who hope in Talamone, and will lose there + More hope than in discovering the Diana; + +But there still more the admirals will lose.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XIV + + +“Who is this one that goes about our mountain, + Or ever Death has given him power of flight, + And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will?” + +“I know not who, but know he’s not alone; + Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him, + And gently, so that he may speak, accost him.” + +Thus did two spirits, leaning tow’rds each other, + Discourse about me there on the right hand; + Then held supine their faces to address me. + +And said the one: “O soul, that, fastened still + Within the body, tow’rds the heaven art going, + For charity console us, and declare + +Whence comest and who art thou; for thou mak’st us + As much to marvel at this grace of thine + As must a thing that never yet has been.” + +And I: “Through midst of Tuscany there wanders + A streamlet that is born in Falterona, + And not a hundred miles of course suffice it; + +From thereupon do I this body bring. + To tell you who I am were speech in vain, + Because my name as yet makes no great noise.” + +“If well thy meaning I can penetrate + With intellect of mine,” then answered me + He who first spake, “thou speakest of the Arno.” + +And said the other to him: “Why concealed + This one the appellation of that river, + Even as a man doth of things horrible?” + +And thus the shade that questioned was of this + Himself acquitted: “I know not; but truly + ’Tis fit the name of such a valley perish; + +For from its fountain-head (where is so pregnant + The Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro + That in few places it that mark surpasses) + +To where it yields itself in restoration + Of what the heaven doth of the sea dry up, + Whence have the rivers that which goes with them, + +Virtue is like an enemy avoided + By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune + Of place, or through bad habit that impels them; + +On which account have so transformed their nature + The dwellers in that miserable valley, + It seems that Circe had them in her pasture. + +’Mid ugly swine, of acorns worthier + Than other food for human use created, + It first directeth its impoverished way. + +Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward, + More snarling than their puissance demands, + And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle. + +It goes on falling, and the more it grows, + The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, + This maledict and misadventurous ditch. + +Descended then through many a hollow gulf, + It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, + They fear no cunning that may master them. + +Nor will I cease because another hears me; + And well ’twill be for him, if still he mind him + Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. + +Thy grandson I behold, who doth become + A hunter of those wolves upon the bank + Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all. + +He sells their flesh, it being yet alive; + Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves; + Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. + +Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; + He leaves it such, a thousand years from now + In its primeval state ’tis not re-wooded.” + +As at the announcement of impending ills + The face of him who listens is disturbed, + From whate’er side the peril seize upon him; + +So I beheld that other soul, which stood + Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, + When it had gathered to itself the word. + +The speech of one and aspect of the other + Had me desirous made to know their names, + And question mixed with prayers I made thereof, + +Whereat the spirit which first spake to me + Began again: “Thou wishest I should bring me + To do for thee what thou’lt not do for me; + +But since God willeth that in thee shine forth + Such grace of his, I’ll not be chary with thee; + Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am. + +My blood was so with envy set on fire, + That if I had beheld a man make merry, + Thou wouldst have seen me sprinkled o’er with pallor. + +From my own sowing such the straw I reap! + O human race! why dost thou set thy heart + Where interdict of partnership must be? + +This is Renier; this is the boast and honour + Of the house of Calboli, where no one since + Has made himself the heir of his desert. + +And not alone his blood is made devoid, + ’Twixt Po and mount, and sea-shore and the Reno, + Of good required for truth and for diversion; + +For all within these boundaries is full + Of venomous roots, so that too tardily + By cultivation now would they diminish. + +Where is good Lizio, and Arrigo Manardi, + Pier Traversaro, and Guido di Carpigna, + O Romagnuoli into bastards turned? + +When in Bologna will a Fabbro rise? + When in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco, + The noble scion of ignoble seed? + +Be not astonished, Tuscan, if I weep, + When I remember, with Guido da Prata, + Ugolin d’ Azzo, who was living with us, + +Frederick Tignoso and his company, + The house of Traversara, and th’ Anastagi, + And one race and the other is extinct; + +The dames and cavaliers, the toils and ease + That filled our souls with love and courtesy, + There where the hearts have so malicious grown! + +O Brettinoro! why dost thou not flee, + Seeing that all thy family is gone, + And many people, not to be corrupted? + +Bagnacaval does well in not begetting + And ill does Castrocaro, and Conio worse, + In taking trouble to beget such Counts. + +Will do well the Pagani, when their Devil + Shall have departed; but not therefore pure + Will testimony of them e’er remain. + +O Ugolin de’ Fantoli, secure + Thy name is, since no longer is awaited + One who, degenerating, can obscure it! + +But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me + To weep far better than it does to speak, + So much has our discourse my mind distressed.” + +We were aware that those beloved souls + Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent, + They made us of our pathway confident. + +When we became alone by going onward, + Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared + A voice, that counter to us came, exclaiming: + +“Shall slay me whosoever findeth me!” + And fled as the reverberation dies + If suddenly the cloud asunder bursts. + +As soon as hearing had a truce from this, + Behold another, with so great a crash, + That it resembled thunderings following fast: + +“I am Aglaurus, who became a stone!” + And then, to press myself close to the Poet, + I backward, and not forward, took a step. + +Already on all sides the air was quiet; + And said he to me: “That was the hard curb + That ought to hold a man within his bounds; + +But you take in the bait so that the hook + Of the old Adversary draws you to him, + And hence availeth little curb or call. + +The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you, + Displaying to you their eternal beauties, + And still your eye is looking on the ground; + +Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XV + + +As much as ’twixt the close of the third hour + And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere + Which aye in fashion of a child is playing, + +So much it now appeared, towards the night, + Was of his course remaining to the sun; + There it was evening, and ’twas midnight here; + +And the rays smote the middle of our faces, + Because by us the mount was so encircled, + That straight towards the west we now were going + +When I perceived my forehead overpowered + Beneath the splendour far more than at first, + And stupor were to me the things unknown, + +Whereat towards the summit of my brow + I raised my hands, and made myself the visor + Which the excessive glare diminishes. + +As when from off the water, or a mirror, + The sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side, + Ascending upward in the selfsame measure + +That it descends, and deviates as far + From falling of a stone in line direct, + (As demonstrate experiment and art,) + +So it appeared to me that by a light + Refracted there before me I was smitten; + On which account my sight was swift to flee. + +“What is that, Father sweet, from which I cannot + So fully screen my sight that it avail me,” + Said I, “and seems towards us to be moving?” + +“Marvel thou not, if dazzle thee as yet + The family of heaven,” he answered me; + “An angel ’tis, who comes to invite us upward. + +Soon will it be, that to behold these things + Shall not be grievous, but delightful to thee + As much as nature fashioned thee to feel.” + +When we had reached the Angel benedight, + With joyful voice he said: “Here enter in + To stairway far less steep than are the others.” + +We mounting were, already thence departed, + And “Beati misericordes” was + Behind us sung, “Rejoice, thou that o’ercomest!” + +My Master and myself, we two alone + Were going upward, and I thought, in going, + Some profit to acquire from words of his; + +And I to him directed me, thus asking: + “What did the spirit of Romagna mean, + Mentioning interdict and partnership?” + +Whence he to me: “Of his own greatest failing + He knows the harm; and therefore wonder not + If he reprove us, that we less may rue it. + +Because are thither pointed your desires + Where by companionship each share is lessened, + Envy doth ply the bellows to your sighs. + +But if the love of the supernal sphere + Should upwardly direct your aspiration, + There would not be that fear within your breast; + +For there, as much the more as one says ‘Our,’ + So much the more of good each one possesses, + And more of charity in that cloister burns.” + +“I am more hungering to be satisfied,” + I said, “than if I had before been silent, + And more of doubt within my mind I gather. + +How can it be, that boon distributed + The more possessors can more wealthy make + Therein, than if by few it be possessed?” + +And he to me: “Because thou fixest still + Thy mind entirely upon earthly things, + Thou pluckest darkness from the very light. + +That goodness infinite and ineffable + Which is above there, runneth unto love, + As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam. + +So much it gives itself as it finds ardour, + So that as far as charity extends, + O’er it increases the eternal valour. + +And the more people thitherward aspire, + More are there to love well, and more they love there, + And, as a mirror, one reflects the other. + +And if my reasoning appease thee not, + Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully + Take from thee this and every other longing. + +Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct, + As are the two already, the five wounds + That close themselves again by being painful.” + +Even as I wished to say, “Thou dost appease me,” + I saw that I had reached another circle, + So that my eager eyes made me keep silence. + +There it appeared to me that in a vision + Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt, + And in a temple many persons saw; + +And at the door a woman, with the sweet + Behaviour of a mother, saying: “Son, + Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us? + +Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself + Were seeking for thee;”—and as here she ceased, + That which appeared at first had disappeared. + +Then I beheld another with those waters + Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever + From great disdain of others it is born, + +And saying: “If of that city thou art lord, + For whose name was such strife among the gods, + And whence doth every science scintillate, + +Avenge thyself on those audacious arms + That clasped our daughter, O Pisistratus;” + And the lord seemed to me benign and mild + +To answer her with aspect temperate: + “What shall we do to those who wish us ill, + If he who loves us be by us condemned?” + +Then saw I people hot in fire of wrath, + With stones a young man slaying, clamorously + Still crying to each other, “Kill him! kill him!” + +And him I saw bow down, because of death + That weighed already on him, to the earth, + But of his eyes made ever gates to heaven, + +Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife, + That he would pardon those his persecutors, + With such an aspect as unlocks compassion. + +Soon as my soul had outwardly returned + To things external to it which are true, + Did I my not false errors recognize. + +My Leader, who could see me bear myself + Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, + Exclaimed: “What ails thee, that thou canst not stand? + +But hast been coming more than half a league + Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, + In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?” + +“O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, + I’ll tell thee,” said I, “what appeared to me, + When thus from me my legs were ta’en away.” + +And he: “If thou shouldst have a hundred masks + Upon thy face, from me would not be shut + Thy cogitations, howsoever small. + +What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail + To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, + Which from the eternal fountain are diffused. + +I did not ask, ‘What ails thee?’ as he does + Who only looketh with the eyes that see not + When of the soul bereft the body lies, + +But asked it to give vigour to thy feet; + Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow + To use their wakefulness when it returns.” + +We passed along, athwart the twilight peering + Forward as far as ever eye could stretch + Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent; + +And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached + In our direction, sombre as the night, + Nor was there place to hide one’s self therefrom. + +This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XVI + + +Darkness of hell, and of a night deprived + Of every planet under a poor sky, + As much as may be tenebrous with cloud, + +Ne’er made unto my sight so thick a veil, + As did that smoke which there enveloped us, + Nor to the feeling of so rough a texture; + +For not an eye it suffered to stay open; + Whereat mine escort, faithful and sagacious, + Drew near to me and offered me his shoulder. + +E’en as a blind man goes behind his guide, + Lest he should wander, or should strike against + Aught that may harm or peradventure kill him, + +So went I through the bitter and foul air, + Listening unto my Leader, who said only, + “Look that from me thou be not separated.” + +Voices I heard, and every one appeared + To supplicate for peace and misericord + The Lamb of God who takes away our sins. + +Still “Agnus Dei” their exordium was; + One word there was in all, and metre one, + So that all harmony appeared among them. + +“Master,” I said, “are spirits those I hear?” + And he to me: “Thou apprehendest truly, + And they the knot of anger go unloosing.” + +“Now who art thou, that cleavest through our smoke + And art discoursing of us even as though + Thou didst by calends still divide the time?” + +After this manner by a voice was spoken; + Whereon my Master said: “Do thou reply, + And ask if on this side the way go upward.” + +And I: “O creature that dost cleanse thyself + To return beautiful to Him who made thee, + Thou shalt hear marvels if thou follow me.” + +“Thee will I follow far as is allowed me,” + He answered; “and if smoke prevent our seeing, + Hearing shall keep us joined instead thereof.” + +Thereon began I: “With that swathing band + Which death unwindeth am I going upward, + And hither came I through the infernal anguish. + +And if God in his grace has me infolded, + So that he wills that I behold his court + By method wholly out of modern usage, + +Conceal not from me who ere death thou wast, + But tell it me, and tell me if I go + Right for the pass, and be thy words our escort.” + +“Lombard was I, and I was Marco called; + The world I knew, and loved that excellence, + At which has each one now unbent his bow. + +For mounting upward, thou art going right.” + Thus he made answer, and subjoined: “I pray thee + To pray for me when thou shalt be above.” + +And I to him: “My faith I pledge to thee + To do what thou dost ask me; but am bursting + Inly with doubt, unless I rid me of it. + +First it was simple, and is now made double + By thy opinion, which makes certain to me, + Here and elsewhere, that which I couple with it. + +The world forsooth is utterly deserted + By every virtue, as thou tellest me, + And with iniquity is big and covered; + +But I beseech thee point me out the cause, + That I may see it, and to others show it; + For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it.” + +A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai! + He first sent forth, and then began he: “Brother, + The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it! + +Ye who are living every cause refer + Still upward to the heavens, as if all things + They of necessity moved with themselves. + +If this were so, in you would be destroyed + Free will, nor any justice would there be + In having joy for good, or grief for evil. + +The heavens your movements do initiate, + I say not all; but granting that I say it, + Light has been given you for good and evil, + +And free volition; which, if some fatigue + In the first battles with the heavens it suffers, + Afterwards conquers all, if well ’tis nurtured. + +To greater force and to a better nature, + Though free, ye subject are, and that creates + The mind in you the heavens have not in charge. + +Hence, if the present world doth go astray, + In you the cause is, be it sought in you; + And I therein will now be thy true spy. + +Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it + Before it is, like to a little girl + Weeping and laughing in her childish sport, + +Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows, + Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker, + Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure. + +Of trivial good at first it tastes the savour; + Is cheated by it, and runs after it, + If guide or rein turn not aside its love. + +Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place, + Behoved a king to have, who at the least + Of the true city should discern the tower. + +The laws exist, but who sets hand to them? + No one; because the shepherd who precedes + Can ruminate, but cleaveth not the hoof; + +Wherefore the people that perceives its guide + Strike only at the good for which it hankers, + Feeds upon that, and farther seeketh not. + +Clearly canst thou perceive that evil guidance + The cause is that has made the world depraved, + And not that nature is corrupt in you. + +Rome, that reformed the world, accustomed was + Two suns to have, which one road and the other, + Of God and of the world, made manifest. + +One has the other quenched, and to the crosier + The sword is joined, and ill beseemeth it + That by main force one with the other go, + +Because, being joined, one feareth not the other; + If thou believe not, think upon the grain, + For by its seed each herb is recognized. + +In the land laved by Po and Adige, + Valour and courtesy used to be found, + Before that Frederick had his controversy; + +Now in security can pass that way + Whoever will abstain, through sense of shame, + From speaking with the good, or drawing near them. + +True, three old men are left, in whom upbraids + The ancient age the new, and late they deem it + That God restore them to the better life: + +Currado da Palazzo, and good Gherardo, + And Guido da Castel, who better named is, + In fashion of the French, the simple Lombard: + +Say thou henceforward that the Church of Rome, + Confounding in itself two governments, + Falls in the mire, and soils itself and burden.” + +“O Marco mine,” I said, “thou reasonest well; + And now discern I why the sons of Levi + Have been excluded from the heritage. + +But what Gherardo is it, who, as sample + Of a lost race, thou sayest has remained + In reprobation of the barbarous age?” + +“Either thy speech deceives me, or it tempts me,” + He answered me; “for speaking Tuscan to me, + It seems of good Gherardo naught thou knowest. + +By other surname do I know him not, + Unless I take it from his daughter Gaia. + May God be with you, for I come no farther. + +Behold the dawn, that through the smoke rays out, + Already whitening; and I must depart— + Yonder the Angel is—ere he appear.” + +Thus did he speak, and would no farther hear me. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XVII + + +Remember, Reader, if e’er in the Alps + A mist o’ertook thee, through which thou couldst see + Not otherwise than through its membrane mole, + +How, when the vapours humid and condensed + Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere + Of the sun feebly enters in among them, + +And thy imagination will be swift + In coming to perceive how I re-saw + The sun at first, that was already setting. + +Thus, to the faithful footsteps of my Master + Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud + To rays already dead on the low shores. + +O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us + So from without sometimes, that man perceives not, + Although around may sound a thousand trumpets, + +Who moveth thee, if sense impel thee not? + Moves thee a light, which in the heaven takes form, + By self, or by a will that downward guides it. + +Of her impiety, who changed her form + Into the bird that most delights in singing, + In my imagining appeared the trace; + +And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn + Within itself, that from without there came + Nothing that then might be received by it. + +Then reigned within my lofty fantasy + One crucified, disdainful and ferocious + In countenance, and even thus was dying. + +Around him were the great Ahasuerus, + Esther his wife, and the just Mordecai, + Who was in word and action so entire. + +And even as this image burst asunder + Of its own self, in fashion of a bubble + In which the water it was made of fails, + +There rose up in my vision a young maiden + Bitterly weeping, and she said: “O queen, + Why hast thou wished in anger to be naught? + +Thou’st slain thyself, Lavinia not to lose; + Now hast thou lost me; I am she who mourns, + Mother, at thine ere at another’s ruin.” + +As sleep is broken, when upon a sudden + New light strikes in upon the eyelids closed, + And broken quivers ere it dieth wholly, + +So this imagining of mine fell down + As soon as the effulgence smote my face, + Greater by far than what is in our wont. + +I turned me round to see where I might be, + When said a voice, “Here is the passage up;” + Which from all other purposes removed me, + +And made my wish so full of eagerness + To look and see who was it that was speaking, + It never rests till meeting face to face; + +But as before the sun, which quells the sight, + And in its own excess its figure veils, + Even so my power was insufficient here. + +“This is a spirit divine, who in the way + Of going up directs us without asking, + And who with his own light himself conceals. + +He does with us as man doth with himself; + For he who sees the need, and waits the asking, + Malignly leans already tow’rds denial. + +Accord we now our feet to such inviting, + Let us make haste to mount ere it grow dark; + For then we could not till the day return.” + +Thus my Conductor said; and I and he + Together turned our footsteps to a stairway; + And I, as soon as the first step I reached, + +Near me perceived a motion as of wings, + And fanning in the face, and saying, “‘Beati + Pacifici,’ who are without ill anger.” + +Already over us were so uplifted + The latest sunbeams, which the night pursues, + That upon many sides the stars appeared. + +“O manhood mine, why dost thou vanish so?” + I said within myself; for I perceived + The vigour of my legs was put in truce. + +We at the point were where no more ascends + The stairway upward, and were motionless, + Even as a ship, which at the shore arrives; + +And I gave heed a little, if I might hear + Aught whatsoever in the circle new; + Then to my Master turned me round and said: + +“Say, my sweet Father, what delinquency + Is purged here in the circle where we are? + Although our feet may pause, pause not thy speech.” + +And he to me: “The love of good, remiss + In what it should have done, is here restored; + Here plied again the ill-belated oar; + +But still more openly to understand, + Turn unto me thy mind, and thou shalt gather + Some profitable fruit from our delay. + +Neither Creator nor a creature ever, + Son,” he began, “was destitute of love + Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it. + +The natural was ever without error; + But err the other may by evil object, + Or by too much, or by too little vigour. + +While in the first it well directed is, + And in the second moderates itself, + It cannot be the cause of sinful pleasure; + +But when to ill it turns, and, with more care + Or lesser than it ought, runs after good, + ’Gainst the Creator works his own creation. + +Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be + The seed within yourselves of every virtue, + And every act that merits punishment. + +Now inasmuch as never from the welfare + Of its own subject can love turn its sight, + From their own hatred all things are secure; + +And since we cannot think of any being + Standing alone, nor from the First divided, + Of hating Him is all desire cut off. + +Hence if, discriminating, I judge well, + The evil that one loves is of one’s neighbour, + And this is born in three modes in your clay. + +There are, who, by abasement of their neighbour, + Hope to excel, and therefore only long + That from his greatness he may be cast down; + +There are, who power, grace, honour, and renown + Fear they may lose because another rises, + Thence are so sad that the reverse they love; + +And there are those whom injury seems to chafe, + So that it makes them greedy for revenge, + And such must needs shape out another’s harm. + +This threefold love is wept for down below; + Now of the other will I have thee hear, + That runneth after good with measure faulty. + +Each one confusedly a good conceives + Wherein the mind may rest, and longeth for it; + Therefore to overtake it each one strives. + +If languid love to look on this attract you, + Or in attaining unto it, this cornice, + After just penitence, torments you for it. + +There’s other good that does not make man happy; + ’Tis not felicity, ’tis not the good + Essence, of every good the fruit and root. + +The love that yields itself too much to this + Above us is lamented in three circles; + But how tripartite it may be described, + +I say not, that thou seek it for thyself.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XVIII + + +An end had put unto his reasoning + The lofty Teacher, and attent was looking + Into my face, if I appeared content; + +And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on, + Without was mute, and said within: “Perchance + The too much questioning I make annoys him.” + +But that true Father, who had comprehended + The timid wish, that opened not itself, + By speaking gave me hardihood to speak. + +Whence I: “My sight is, Master, vivified + So in thy light, that clearly I discern + Whate’er thy speech importeth or describes. + +Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear, + To teach me love, to which thou dost refer + Every good action and its contrary.” + +“Direct,” he said, “towards me the keen eyes + Of intellect, and clear will be to thee + The error of the blind, who would be leaders. + +The soul, which is created apt to love, + Is mobile unto everything that pleases, + Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action. + +Your apprehension from some real thing + An image draws, and in yourselves displays it + So that it makes the soul turn unto it. + +And if, when turned, towards it she incline, + Love is that inclination; it is nature, + Which is by pleasure bound in you anew + +Then even as the fire doth upward move + By its own form, which to ascend is born, + Where longest in its matter it endures, + +So comes the captive soul into desire, + Which is a motion spiritual, and ne’er rests + Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved. + +Now may apparent be to thee how hidden + The truth is from those people, who aver + All love is in itself a laudable thing; + +Because its matter may perchance appear + Aye to be good; but yet not each impression + Is good, albeit good may be the wax.” + +“Thy words, and my sequacious intellect,” + I answered him, “have love revealed to me; + But that has made me more impregned with doubt; + +For if love from without be offered us, + And with another foot the soul go not, + If right or wrong she go, ’tis not her merit.” + +And he to me: “What reason seeth here, + Myself can tell thee; beyond that await + For Beatrice, since ’tis a work of faith. + +Every substantial form, that segregate + From matter is, and with it is united, + Specific power has in itself collected, + +Which without act is not perceptible, + Nor shows itself except by its effect, + As life does in a plant by the green leaves. + +But still, whence cometh the intelligence + Of the first notions, man is ignorant, + And the affection for the first allurements, + +Which are in you as instinct in the bee + To make its honey; and this first desire + Merit of praise or blame containeth not. + +Now, that to this all others may be gathered, + Innate within you is the power that counsels, + And it should keep the threshold of assent. + +This is the principle, from which is taken + Occasion of desert in you, according + As good and guilty loves it takes and winnows. + +Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went, + Were of this innate liberty aware, + Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world. + +Supposing, then, that from necessity + Springs every love that is within you kindled, + Within yourselves the power is to restrain it. + +The noble virtue Beatrice understands + By the free will; and therefore see that thou + Bear it in mind, if she should speak of it.” + +The moon, belated almost unto midnight, + Now made the stars appear to us more rare, + Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze, + +And counter to the heavens ran through those paths + Which the sun sets aflame, when he of Rome + Sees it ’twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down; + +And that patrician shade, for whom is named + Pietola more than any Mantuan town, + Had laid aside the burden of my lading; + +Whence I, who reason manifest and plain + In answer to my questions had received, + Stood like a man in drowsy reverie. + +But taken from me was this drowsiness + Suddenly by a people, that behind + Our backs already had come round to us. + +And as, of old, Ismenus and Asopus + Beside them saw at night the rush and throng, + If but the Thebans were in need of Bacchus, + +So they along that circle curve their step, + From what I saw of those approaching us, + Who by good-will and righteous love are ridden. + +Full soon they were upon us, because running + Moved onward all that mighty multitude, + And two in the advance cried out, lamenting, + +“Mary in haste unto the mountain ran, + And Caesar, that he might subdue Ilerda, + Thrust at Marseilles, and then ran into Spain.” + +“Quick! quick! so that the time may not be lost + By little love!” forthwith the others cried, + “For ardour in well-doing freshens grace!” + +“O folk, in whom an eager fervour now + Supplies perhaps delay and negligence, + Put by you in well-doing, through lukewarmness, + +This one who lives, and truly I lie not, + Would fain go up, if but the sun relight us; + So tell us where the passage nearest is.” + +These were the words of him who was my Guide; + And some one of those spirits said: “Come on + Behind us, and the opening shalt thou find; + +So full of longing are we to move onward, + That stay we cannot; therefore pardon us, + If thou for churlishness our justice take. + +I was San Zeno’s Abbot at Verona, + Under the empire of good Barbarossa, + Of whom still sorrowing Milan holds discourse; + +And he has one foot in the grave already, + Who shall erelong lament that monastery, + And sorry be of having there had power, + +Because his son, in his whole body sick, + And worse in mind, and who was evil-born, + He put into the place of its true pastor.” + +If more he said, or silent was, I know not, + He had already passed so far beyond us; + But this I heard, and to retain it pleased me. + +And he who was in every need my succour + Said: “Turn thee hitherward; see two of them + Come fastening upon slothfulness their teeth.” + +In rear of all they shouted: “Sooner were + The people dead to whom the sea was opened, + Than their inheritors the Jordan saw; + +And those who the fatigue did not endure + Unto the issue, with Anchises’ son, + Themselves to life withouten glory offered.” + +Then when from us so separated were + Those shades, that they no longer could be seen, + Within me a new thought did entrance find, + +Whence others many and diverse were born; + And so I lapsed from one into another, + That in a reverie mine eyes I closed, + +And meditation into dream transmuted. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XIX + + +It was the hour when the diurnal heat + No more can warm the coldness of the moon, + Vanquished by earth, or peradventure Saturn, + +When geomancers their Fortuna Major + See in the orient before the dawn + Rise by a path that long remains not dim, + +There came to me in dreams a stammering woman, + Squint in her eyes, and in her feet distorted, + With hands dissevered and of sallow hue. + +I looked at her; and as the sun restores + The frigid members which the night benumbs, + Even thus my gaze did render voluble + +Her tongue, and made her all erect thereafter + In little while, and the lost countenance + As love desires it so in her did colour. + +When in this wise she had her speech unloosed, + She ’gan to sing so, that with difficulty + Could I have turned my thoughts away from her. + +“I am,” she sang, “I am the Siren sweet + Who mariners amid the main unman, + So full am I of pleasantness to hear. + +I drew Ulysses from his wandering way + Unto my song, and he who dwells with me + Seldom departs so wholly I content him.” + +Her mouth was not yet closed again, before + Appeared a Lady saintly and alert + Close at my side to put her to confusion. + +“Virgilius, O Virgilius! who is this?” + Sternly she said; and he was drawing near + With eyes still fixed upon that modest one. + +She seized the other and in front laid open, + Rending her garments, and her belly showed me; + This waked me with the stench that issued from it. + +I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said: + “At least thrice have I called thee; rise and come; + Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter.” + +I rose; and full already of high day + Were all the circles of the Sacred Mountain, + And with the new sun at our back we went. + +Following behind him, I my forehead bore + Like unto one who has it laden with thought, + Who makes himself the half arch of a bridge, + +When I heard say, “Come, here the passage is,” + Spoken in a manner gentle and benign, + Such as we hear not in this mortal region. + +With open wings, which of a swan appeared, + Upward he turned us who thus spake to us, + Between the two walls of the solid granite. + +He moved his pinions afterwards and fanned us, + Affirming those ‘qui lugent’ to be blessed, + For they shall have their souls with comfort filled. + +“What aileth thee, that aye to earth thou gazest?” + To me my Guide began to say, we both + Somewhat beyond the Angel having mounted. + +And I: “With such misgiving makes me go + A vision new, which bends me to itself, + So that I cannot from the thought withdraw me.” + +“Didst thou behold,” he said, “that old enchantress, + Who sole above us henceforth is lamented? + Didst thou behold how man is freed from her? + +Suffice it thee, and smite earth with thy heels, + Thine eyes lift upward to the lure, that whirls + The Eternal King with revolutions vast.” + +Even as the hawk, that first his feet surveys, + Then turns him to the call and stretches forward, + Through the desire of food that draws him thither, + +Such I became, and such, as far as cleaves + The rock to give a way to him who mounts, + Went on to where the circling doth begin. + +On the fifth circle when I had come forth, + People I saw upon it who were weeping, + Stretched prone upon the ground, all downward turned. + +“Adhaesit pavimento anima mea,” + I heard them say with sighings so profound, + That hardly could the words be understood. + +“O ye elect of God, whose sufferings + Justice and Hope both render less severe, + Direct ye us towards the high ascents.” + +“If ye are come secure from this prostration, + And wish to find the way most speedily, + Let your right hands be evermore outside.” + +Thus did the Poet ask, and thus was answered + By them somewhat in front of us; whence I + In what was spoken divined the rest concealed, + +And unto my Lord’s eyes mine eyes I turned; + Whence he assented with a cheerful sign + To what the sight of my desire implored. + +When of myself I could dispose at will, + Above that creature did I draw myself, + Whose words before had caused me to take note, + +Saying: “O Spirit, in whom weeping ripens + That without which to God we cannot turn, + Suspend awhile for me thy greater care. + +Who wast thou, and why are your backs turned upwards, + Tell me, and if thou wouldst that I procure thee + Anything there whence living I departed.” + +And he to me: “Wherefore our backs the heaven + Turns to itself, know shalt thou; but beforehand + ‘Scias quod ego fui successor Petri.’ + +Between Siestri and Chiaveri descends + A river beautiful, and of its name + The title of my blood its summit makes. + +A month and little more essayed I how + Weighs the great cloak on him from mire who keeps it, + For all the other burdens seem a feather. + +Tardy, ah woe is me! was my conversion; + But when the Roman Shepherd I was made, + Then I discovered life to be a lie. + +I saw that there the heart was not at rest, + Nor farther in that life could one ascend; + Whereby the love of this was kindled in me. + +Until that time a wretched soul and parted + From God was I, and wholly avaricious; + Now, as thou seest, I here am punished for it. + +What avarice does is here made manifest + In the purgation of these souls converted, + And no more bitter pain the Mountain has. + +Even as our eye did not uplift itself + Aloft, being fastened upon earthly things, + So justice here has merged it in the earth. + +As avarice had extinguished our affection + For every good, whereby was action lost, + So justice here doth hold us in restraint, + +Bound and imprisoned by the feet and hands; + And so long as it pleases the just Lord + Shall we remain immovable and prostrate.” + +I on my knees had fallen, and wished to speak; + But even as I began, and he was ’ware, + Only by listening, of my reverence, + +“What cause,” he said, “has downward bent thee thus?” + And I to him: “For your own dignity, + Standing, my conscience stung me with remorse.” + +“Straighten thy legs, and upward raise thee, brother,” + He answered: “Err not, fellow-servant am I + With thee and with the others to one power. + +If e’er that holy, evangelic sound, + Which sayeth ‘neque nubent,’ thou hast heard, + Well canst thou see why in this wise I speak. + +Now go; no longer will I have thee linger, + Because thy stay doth incommode my weeping, + With which I ripen that which thou hast said. + +On earth I have a grandchild named Alagia, + Good in herself, unless indeed our house + Malevolent may make her by example, + +And she alone remains to me on earth.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XX + + +Ill strives the will against a better will; + Therefore, to pleasure him, against my pleasure + I drew the sponge not saturate from the water. + +Onward I moved, and onward moved my Leader, + Through vacant places, skirting still the rock, + As on a wall close to the battlements; + +For they that through their eyes pour drop by drop + The malady which all the world pervades, + On the other side too near the verge approach. + +Accursed mayst thou be, thou old she-wolf, + That more than all the other beasts hast prey, + Because of hunger infinitely hollow! + +O heaven, in whose gyrations some appear + To think conditions here below are changed, + When will he come through whom she shall depart? + +Onward we went with footsteps slow and scarce, + And I attentive to the shades I heard + Piteously weeping and bemoaning them; + +And I by peradventure heard “Sweet Mary!” + Uttered in front of us amid the weeping + Even as a woman does who is in child-birth; + +And in continuance: “How poor thou wast + Is manifested by that hostelry + Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down.” + +Thereafterward I heard: “O good Fabricius, + Virtue with poverty didst thou prefer + To the possession of great wealth with vice.” + +So pleasurable were these words to me + That I drew farther onward to have knowledge + Touching that spirit whence they seemed to come. + +He furthermore was speaking of the largess + Which Nicholas unto the maidens gave, + In order to conduct their youth to honour. + +“O soul that dost so excellently speak, + Tell me who wast thou,” said I, “and why only + Thou dost renew these praises well deserved? + +Not without recompense shall be thy word, + If I return to finish the short journey + Of that life which is flying to its end.” + +And he: “I’ll tell thee, not for any comfort + I may expect from earth, but that so much + Grace shines in thee or ever thou art dead. + +I was the root of that malignant plant + Which overshadows all the Christian world, + So that good fruit is seldom gathered from it; + +But if Douay and Ghent, and Lille and Bruges + Had Power, soon vengeance would be taken on it; + And this I pray of Him who judges all. + +Hugh Capet was I called upon the earth; + From me were born the Louises and Philips, + By whom in later days has France been governed. + +I was the son of a Parisian butcher, + What time the ancient kings had perished all, + Excepting one, contrite in cloth of gray. + +I found me grasping in my hands the rein + Of the realm’s government, and so great power + Of new acquest, and so with friends abounding, + +That to the widowed diadem promoted + The head of mine own offspring was, from whom + The consecrated bones of these began. + +So long as the great dowry of Provence + Out of my blood took not the sense of shame, + ’Twas little worth, but still it did no harm. + +Then it began with falsehood and with force + Its rapine; and thereafter, for amends, + Took Ponthieu, Normandy, and Gascony. + +Charles came to Italy, and for amends + A victim made of Conradin, and then + Thrust Thomas back to heaven, for amends. + +A time I see, not very distant now, + Which draweth forth another Charles from France, + The better to make known both him and his. + +Unarmed he goes, and only with the lance + That Judas jousted with; and that he thrusts + So that he makes the paunch of Florence burst. + +He thence not land, but sin and infamy, + Shall gain, so much more grievous to himself + As the more light such damage he accounts. + +The other, now gone forth, ta’en in his ship, + See I his daughter sell, and chaffer for her + As corsairs do with other female slaves. + +What more, O Avarice, canst thou do to us, + Since thou my blood so to thyself hast drawn, + It careth not for its own proper flesh? + +That less may seem the future ill and past, + I see the flower-de-luce Alagna enter, + And Christ in his own Vicar captive made. + +I see him yet another time derided; + I see renewed the vinegar and gall, + And between living thieves I see him slain. + +I see the modern Pilate so relentless, + This does not sate him, but without decretal + He to the temple bears his sordid sails! + +When, O my Lord! shall I be joyful made + By looking on the vengeance which, concealed, + Makes sweet thine anger in thy secrecy? + +What I was saying of that only bride + Of the Holy Ghost, and which occasioned thee + To turn towards me for some commentary, + +So long has been ordained to all our prayers + As the day lasts; but when the night comes on, + Contrary sound we take instead thereof. + +At that time we repeat Pygmalion, + Of whom a traitor, thief, and parricide + Made his insatiable desire of gold; + +And the misery of avaricious Midas, + That followed his inordinate demand, + At which forevermore one needs but laugh. + +The foolish Achan each one then records, + And how he stole the spoils; so that the wrath + Of Joshua still appears to sting him here. + +Then we accuse Sapphira with her husband, + We laud the hoof-beats Heliodorus had, + And the whole mount in infamy encircles + +Polymnestor who murdered Polydorus. + Here finally is cried: ‘O Crassus, tell us, + For thou dost know, what is the taste of gold?’ + +Sometimes we speak, one loud, another low, + According to desire of speech, that spurs us + To greater now and now to lesser pace. + +But in the good that here by day is talked of, + Erewhile alone I was not; yet near by + No other person lifted up his voice.” + +From him already we departed were, + And made endeavour to o’ercome the road + As much as was permitted to our power, + +When I perceived, like something that is falling, + The mountain tremble, whence a chill seized on me, + As seizes him who to his death is going. + +Certes so violently shook not Delos, + Before Latona made her nest therein + To give birth to the two eyes of the heaven. + +Then upon all sides there began a cry, + Such that the Master drew himself towards me, + Saying, “Fear not, while I am guiding thee.” + +“Gloria in excelsis Deo,” all + Were saying, from what near I comprehended, + Where it was possible to hear the cry. + +We paused immovable and in suspense, + Even as the shepherds who first heard that song, + Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished. + +Then we resumed again our holy path, + Watching the shades that lay upon the ground, + Already turned to their accustomed plaint. + +No ignorance ever with so great a strife + Had rendered me importunate to know, + If erreth not in this my memory, + +As meditating then I seemed to have; + Nor out of haste to question did I dare, + Nor of myself I there could aught perceive; + +So I went onward timorous and thoughtful. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXI + + +The natural thirst, that ne’er is satisfied + Excepting with the water for whose grace + The woman of Samaria besought, + +Put me in travail, and haste goaded me + Along the encumbered path behind my Leader + And I was pitying that righteous vengeance; + +And lo! in the same manner as Luke writeth + That Christ appeared to two upon the way + From the sepulchral cave already risen, + +A shade appeared to us, and came behind us, + Down gazing on the prostrate multitude, + Nor were we ware of it, until it spake, + +Saying, “My brothers, may God give you peace!” + We turned us suddenly, and Virgilius rendered + To him the countersign thereto conforming. + +Thereon began he: “In the blessed council, + Thee may the court veracious place in peace, + That me doth banish in eternal exile!” + +“How,” said he, and the while we went with speed, + “If ye are shades whom God deigns not on high, + Who up his stairs so far has guided you?” + +And said my Teacher: “If thou note the marks + Which this one bears, and which the Angel traces + Well shalt thou see he with the good must reign. + +But because she who spinneth day and night + For him had not yet drawn the distaff off, + Which Clotho lays for each one and compacts, + +His soul, which is thy sister and my own, + In coming upwards could not come alone, + By reason that it sees not in our fashion. + +Whence I was drawn from out the ample throat + Of Hell to be his guide, and I shall guide him + As far on as my school has power to lead. + +But tell us, if thou knowest, why such a shudder + Erewhile the mountain gave, and why together + All seemed to cry, as far as its moist feet?” + +In asking he so hit the very eye + Of my desire, that merely with the hope + My thirst became the less unsatisfied. + +“Naught is there,” he began, “that without order + May the religion of the mountain feel, + Nor aught that may be foreign to its custom. + +Free is it here from every permutation; + What from itself heaven in itself receiveth + Can be of this the cause, and naught beside; + +Because that neither rain, nor hail, nor snow, + Nor dew, nor hoar-frost any higher falls + Than the short, little stairway of three steps. + +Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied, + Nor coruscation, nor the daughter of Thaumas, + That often upon earth her region shifts; + +No arid vapour any farther rises + Than to the top of the three steps I spake of, + Whereon the Vicar of Peter has his feet. + +Lower down perchance it trembles less or more, + But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden + I know not how, up here it never trembled. + +It trembles here, whenever any soul + Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves + To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it. + +Of purity the will alone gives proof, + Which, being wholly free to change its convent, + Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly. + +First it wills well; but the desire permits not, + Which divine justice with the self-same will + There was to sin, upon the torment sets. + +And I, who have been lying in this pain + Five hundred years and more, but just now felt + A free volition for a better seat. + +Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious + Spirits along the mountain rendering praise + Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards.” + +So said he to him; and since we enjoy + As much in drinking as the thirst is great, + I could not say how much it did me good. + +And the wise Leader: “Now I see the net + That snares you here, and how ye are set free, + Why the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice. + +Now who thou wast be pleased that I may know; + And why so many centuries thou hast here + Been lying, let me gather from thy words.” + +“In days when the good Titus, with the aid + Of the supremest King, avenged the wounds + Whence issued forth the blood by Judas sold, + +Under the name that most endures and honours, + Was I on earth,” that spirit made reply, + “Greatly renowned, but not with faith as yet. + +My vocal spirit was so sweet, that Rome + Me, a Thoulousian, drew unto herself, + Where I deserved to deck my brows with myrtle. + +Statius the people name me still on earth; + I sang of Thebes, and then of great Achilles; + But on the way fell with my second burden. + +The seeds unto my ardour were the sparks + Of that celestial flame which heated me, + Whereby more than a thousand have been fired; + +Of the Aeneid speak I, which to me + A mother was, and was my nurse in song; + Without this weighed I not a drachma’s weight. + +And to have lived upon the earth what time + Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun + More than I must ere issuing from my ban.” + +These words towards me made Virgilius turn + With looks that in their silence said, “Be silent!” + But yet the power that wills cannot do all things; + +For tears and laughter are such pursuivants + Unto the passion from which each springs forth, + In the most truthful least the will they follow. + +I only smiled, as one who gives the wink; + Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed + Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells; + +And, “As thou well mayst consummate a labour + So great,” it said, “why did thy face just now + Display to me the lightning of a smile?” + +Now am I caught on this side and on that; + One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me, + Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood. + +“Speak,” said my Master, “and be not afraid + Of speaking, but speak out, and say to him + What he demands with such solicitude.” + +Whence I: “Thou peradventure marvellest, + O antique spirit, at the smile I gave; + But I will have more wonder seize upon thee. + +This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine, + Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn + To sing aloud of men and of the Gods. + +If other cause thou to my smile imputedst, + Abandon it as false, and trust it was + Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him.” + +Already he was stooping to embrace + My Teacher’s feet; but he said to him: “Brother, + Do not; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest.” + +And he uprising: “Now canst thou the sum + Of love which warms me to thee comprehend, + When this our vanity I disremember, + +Treating a shadow as substantial thing.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXII + + +Already was the Angel left behind us, + The Angel who to the sixth round had turned us, + Having erased one mark from off my face; + +And those who have in justice their desire + Had said to us, “Beati,” in their voices, + With “sitio,” and without more ended it. + +And I, more light than through the other passes, + Went onward so, that without any labour + I followed upward the swift-footed spirits; + +When thus Virgilius began: “The love + Kindled by virtue aye another kindles, + Provided outwardly its flame appear. + +Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended + Among us into the infernal Limbo, + Who made apparent to me thy affection, + +My kindliness towards thee was as great + As ever bound one to an unseen person, + So that these stairs will now seem short to me. + +But tell me, and forgive me as a friend, + If too great confidence let loose the rein, + And as a friend now hold discourse with me; + +How was it possible within thy breast + For avarice to find place, ’mid so much wisdom + As thou wast filled with by thy diligence?” + +These words excited Statius at first + Somewhat to laughter; afterward he answered: + “Each word of thine is love’s dear sign to me. + +Verily oftentimes do things appear + Which give fallacious matter to our doubts, + Instead of the true causes which are hidden! + +Thy question shows me thy belief to be + That I was niggard in the other life, + It may be from the circle where I was; + +Therefore know thou, that avarice was removed + Too far from me; and this extravagance + Thousands of lunar periods have punished. + +And were it not that I my thoughts uplifted, + When I the passage heard where thou exclaimest, + As if indignant, unto human nature, + +‘To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger + Of gold, the appetite of mortal men?’ + Revolving I should feel the dismal joustings. + +Then I perceived the hands could spread too wide + Their wings in spending, and repented me + As well of that as of my other sins; + +How many with shorn hair shall rise again + Because of ignorance, which from this sin + Cuts off repentance living and in death! + +And know that the transgression which rebuts + By direct opposition any sin + Together with it here its verdure dries. + +Therefore if I have been among that folk + Which mourns its avarice, to purify me, + For its opposite has this befallen me.” + +“Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons + Of the twofold affliction of Jocasta,” + The singer of the Songs Bucolic said, + +“From that which Clio there with thee preludes, + It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful + That faith without which no good works suffice. + +If this be so, what candles or what sun + Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim + Thy sails behind the Fisherman thereafter?” + +And he to him: “Thou first directedst me + Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink, + And first concerning God didst me enlighten. + +Thou didst as he who walketh in the night, + Who bears his light behind, which helps him not, + But wary makes the persons after him, + +When thou didst say: ‘The age renews itself, + Justice returns, and man’s primeval time, + And a new progeny descends from heaven.’ + +Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian; + But that thou better see what I design, + To colour it will I extend my hand. + +Already was the world in every part + Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated + By messengers of the eternal kingdom; + +And thy assertion, spoken of above, + With the new preachers was in unison; + Whence I to visit them the custom took. + +Then they became so holy in my sight, + That, when Domitian persecuted them, + Not without tears of mine were their laments; + +And all the while that I on earth remained, + Them I befriended, and their upright customs + Made me disparage all the other sects. + +And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers + Of Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized, + But out of fear was covertly a Christian, + +For a long time professing paganism; + And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle + To circuit round more than four centuries. + +Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering + That hid from me whatever good I speak of, + While in ascending we have time to spare, + +Tell me, in what place is our friend Terentius, + Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou knowest; + Tell me if they are damned, and in what alley.” + +“These, Persius and myself, and others many,” + Replied my Leader, “with that Grecian are + Whom more than all the rest the Muses suckled, + +In the first circle of the prison blind; + Ofttimes we of the mountain hold discourse + Which has our nurses ever with itself. + +Euripides is with us, Antiphon, + Simonides, Agatho, and many other + Greeks who of old their brows with laurel decked. + +There some of thine own people may be seen, + Antigone, Deiphile and Argia, + And there Ismene mournful as of old. + +There she is seen who pointed out Langia; + There is Tiresias’ daughter, and there Thetis, + And there Deidamia with her sisters.” + +Silent already were the poets both, + Attent once more in looking round about, + From the ascent and from the walls released; + +And four handmaidens of the day already + Were left behind, and at the pole the fifth + Was pointing upward still its burning horn, + +What time my Guide: “I think that tow’rds the edge + Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn, + Circling the mount as we are wont to do.” + +Thus in that region custom was our ensign; + And we resumed our way with less suspicion + For the assenting of that worthy soul + +They in advance went on, and I alone + Behind them, and I listened to their speech, + Which gave me lessons in the art of song. + +But soon their sweet discourses interrupted + A tree which midway in the road we found, + With apples sweet and grateful to the smell. + +And even as a fir-tree tapers upward + From bough to bough, so downwardly did that; + I think in order that no one might climb it. + +On that side where our pathway was enclosed + Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water, + And spread itself abroad upon the leaves. + +The Poets twain unto the tree drew near, + And from among the foliage a voice + Cried: “Of this food ye shall have scarcity.” + +Then said: “More thoughtful Mary was of making + The marriage feast complete and honourable, + Than of her mouth which now for you responds; + +And for their drink the ancient Roman women + With water were content; and Daniel + Disparaged food, and understanding won. + +The primal age was beautiful as gold; + Acorns it made with hunger savorous, + And nectar every rivulet with thirst. + +Honey and locusts were the aliments + That fed the Baptist in the wilderness; + Whence he is glorious, and so magnified + +As by the Evangel is revealed to you.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXIII + + +The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes + I riveted, as he is wont to do + Who wastes his life pursuing little birds, + +My more than Father said unto me: “Son, + Come now; because the time that is ordained us + More usefully should be apportioned out.” + +I turned my face and no less soon my steps + Unto the Sages, who were speaking so + They made the going of no cost to me; + +And lo! were heard a song and a lament, + “Labia mea, Domine,” in fashion + Such that delight and dolence it brought forth. + +“O my sweet Father, what is this I hear?” + Began I; and he answered: “Shades that go + Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt.” + +In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do, + Who, unknown people on the road o’ertaking, + Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop, + +Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion + Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us + A crowd of spirits silent and devout. + +Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous, + Pallid in face, and so emaciate + That from the bones the skin did shape itself. + +I do not think that so to merest rind + Could Erisichthon have been withered up + By famine, when most fear he had of it. + +Thinking within myself I said: “Behold, + This is the folk who lost Jerusalem, + When Mary made a prey of her own son.” + +Their sockets were like rings without the gems; + Whoever in the face of men reads ‘omo’ + Might well in these have recognised the ‘m.’ + +Who would believe the odour of an apple, + Begetting longing, could consume them so, + And that of water, without knowing how? + +I still was wondering what so famished them, + For the occasion not yet manifest + Of their emaciation and sad squalor; + +And lo! from out the hollow of his head + His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly; + Then cried aloud: “What grace to me is this?” + +Never should I have known him by his look; + But in his voice was evident to me + That which his aspect had suppressed within it. + +This spark within me wholly re-enkindled + My recognition of his altered face, + And I recalled the features of Forese. + +“Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy,” + Entreated he, “which doth my skin discolour, + Nor at default of flesh that I may have; + +But tell me truth of thee, and who are those + Two souls, that yonder make for thee an escort; + Do not delay in speaking unto me.” + +“That face of thine, which dead I once bewept, + Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,” + I answered him, “beholding it so changed! + +But tell me, for God’s sake, what thus denudes you? + Make me not speak while I am marvelling, + For ill speaks he who’s full of other longings.” + +And he to me: “From the eternal council + Falls power into the water and the tree + Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin. + +All of this people who lamenting sing, + For following beyond measure appetite + In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified. + +Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us + The scent that issues from the apple-tree, + And from the spray that sprinkles o’er the verdure; + +And not a single time alone, this ground + Encompassing, is refreshed our pain,— + I say our pain, and ought to say our solace,— + +For the same wish doth lead us to the tree + Which led the Christ rejoicing to say ‘Eli,’ + When with his veins he liberated us.” + +And I to him: “Forese, from that day + When for a better life thou changedst worlds, + Up to this time five years have not rolled round. + +If sooner were the power exhausted in thee + Of sinning more, than thee the hour surprised + Of that good sorrow which to God reweds us, + +How hast thou come up hitherward already? + I thought to find thee down there underneath, + Where time for time doth restitution make.” + +And he to me: “Thus speedily has led me + To drink of the sweet wormwood of these torments, + My Nella with her overflowing tears; + +She with her prayers devout and with her sighs + Has drawn me from the coast where one where one awaits, + And from the other circles set me free. + +So much more dear and pleasing is to God + My little widow, whom so much I loved, + As in good works she is the more alone; + +For the Barbagia of Sardinia + By far more modest in its women is + Than the Barbagia I have left her in. + +O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say? + A future time is in my sight already, + To which this hour will not be very old, + +When from the pulpit shall be interdicted + To the unblushing womankind of Florence + To go about displaying breast and paps. + +What savages were e’er, what Saracens, + Who stood in need, to make them covered go, + Of spiritual or other discipline? + +But if the shameless women were assured + Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already + Wide open would they have their mouths to howl; + +For if my foresight here deceive me not, + They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks + Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby. + +O brother, now no longer hide thee from me; + See that not only I, but all these people + Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun.” + +Whence I to him: “If thou bring back to mind + What thou with me hast been and I with thee, + The present memory will be grievous still. + +Out of that life he turned me back who goes + In front of me, two days agone when round + The sister of him yonder showed herself,” + +And to the sun I pointed. “Through the deep + Night of the truly dead has this one led me, + With this true flesh, that follows after him. + +Thence his encouragements have led me up, + Ascending and still circling round the mount + That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked. + +He says that he will bear me company, + Till I shall be where Beatrice will be; + There it behoves me to remain without him. + +This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,” + And him I pointed at; “the other is + That shade for whom just now shook every slope + +Your realm, that from itself discharges him.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXIV + + +Nor speech the going, nor the going that + Slackened; but talking we went bravely on, + Even as a vessel urged by a good wind. + +And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead, + From out the sepulchres of their eyes betrayed + Wonder at me, aware that I was living. + +And I, continuing my colloquy, + Said: “Peradventure he goes up more slowly + Than he would do, for other people’s sake. + +But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda; + Tell me if any one of note I see + Among this folk that gazes at me so.” + +“My sister, who, ’twixt beautiful and good, + I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing + Already in her crown on high Olympus.” + +So said he first, and then: “’Tis not forbidden + To name each other here, so milked away + Is our resemblance by our dieting. + +This,” pointing with his finger, “is Buonagiunta, + Buonagiunta, of Lucca; and that face + Beyond him there, more peaked than the others, + +Has held the holy Church within his arms; + From Tours was he, and purges by his fasting + Bolsena’s eels and the Vernaccia wine.” + +He named me many others one by one; + And all contented seemed at being named, + So that for this I saw not one dark look. + +I saw for hunger bite the empty air + Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface, + Who with his crook had pastured many people. + +I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisure + Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness, + And he was one who ne’er felt satisfied. + +But as he does who scans, and then doth prize + One more than others, did I him of Lucca, + Who seemed to take most cognizance of me. + +He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca + From that place heard I, where he felt the wound + Of justice, that doth macerate them so. + +“O soul,” I said, “that seemest so desirous + To speak with me, do so that I may hear thee, + And with thy speech appease thyself and me.” + +“A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,” + Began he, “who to thee shall pleasant make + My city, howsoever men may blame it. + +Thou shalt go on thy way with this prevision; + If by my murmuring thou hast been deceived, + True things hereafter will declare it to thee. + +But say if him I here behold, who forth + Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning, + ‘Ladies, that have intelligence of love?’” + +And I to him: “One am I, who, whenever + Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure + Which he within me dictates, singing go.” + +“O brother, now I see,” he said, “the knot + Which me, the Notary, and Guittone held + Short of the sweet new style that now I hear. + +I do perceive full clearly how your pens + Go closely following after him who dictates, + Which with our own forsooth came not to pass; + +And he who sets himself to go beyond, + No difference sees from one style to another;” + And as if satisfied, he held his peace. + +Even as the birds, that winter tow’rds the Nile, + Sometimes into a phalanx form themselves, + Then fly in greater haste, and go in file; + +In such wise all the people who were there, + Turning their faces, hurried on their steps, + Both by their leanness and their wishes light. + +And as a man, who weary is with trotting, + Lets his companions onward go, and walks, + Until he vents the panting of his chest; + +So did Forese let the holy flock + Pass by, and came with me behind it, saying, + “When will it be that I again shall see thee?” + +“How long,” I answered, “I may live, I know not; + Yet my return will not so speedy be, + But I shall sooner in desire arrive; + +Because the place where I was set to live + From day to day of good is more depleted, + And unto dismal ruin seems ordained.” + +“Now go,” he said, “for him most guilty of it + At a beast’s tail behold I dragged along + Towards the valley where is no repentance. + +Faster at every step the beast is going, + Increasing evermore until it smites him, + And leaves the body vilely mutilated. + +Not long those wheels shall turn,” and he uplifted + His eyes to heaven, “ere shall be clear to thee + That which my speech no farther can declare. + +Now stay behind; because the time so precious + Is in this kingdom, that I lose too much + By coming onward thus abreast with thee.” + +As sometimes issues forth upon a gallop + A cavalier from out a troop that ride, + And seeks the honour of the first encounter, + +So he with greater strides departed from us; + And on the road remained I with those two, + Who were such mighty marshals of the world. + +And when before us he had gone so far + Mine eyes became to him such pursuivants + As was my understanding to his words, + +Appeared to me with laden and living boughs + Another apple-tree, and not far distant, + From having but just then turned thitherward. + +People I saw beneath it lift their hands, + And cry I know not what towards the leaves, + Like little children eager and deluded, + +Who pray, and he they pray to doth not answer, + But, to make very keen their appetite, + Holds their desire aloft, and hides it not. + +Then they departed as if undeceived; + And now we came unto the mighty tree + Which prayers and tears so manifold refuses. + +“Pass farther onward without drawing near; + The tree of which Eve ate is higher up, + And out of that one has this tree been raised.” + +Thus said I know not who among the branches; + Whereat Virgilius, Statius, and myself + Went crowding forward on the side that rises. + +“Be mindful,” said he, “of the accursed ones + Formed of the cloud-rack, who inebriate + Combated Theseus with their double breasts; + +And of the Jews who showed them soft in drinking, + Whence Gideon would not have them for companions + When he tow’rds Midian the hills descended.” + +Thus, closely pressed to one of the two borders, + On passed we, hearing sins of gluttony, + Followed forsooth by miserable gains; + +Then set at large upon the lonely road, + A thousand steps and more we onward went, + In contemplation, each without a word. + +“What go ye thinking thus, ye three alone?” + Said suddenly a voice, whereat I started + As terrified and timid beasts are wont. + +I raised my head to see who this might be, + And never in a furnace was there seen + Metals or glass so lucent and so red + +As one I saw who said: “If it may please you + To mount aloft, here it behoves you turn; + This way goes he who goeth after peace.” + +His aspect had bereft me of my sight, + So that I turned me back unto my Teachers, + Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him. + +And as, the harbinger of early dawn, + The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance, + Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers, + +So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst + My front, and felt the moving of the plumes + That breathed around an odour of ambrosia; + +And heard it said: “Blessed are they whom grace + So much illumines, that the love of taste + Excites not in their breasts too great desire, + +Hungering at all times so far as is just.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXV + + +Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked, + Because the sun had his meridian circle + To Taurus left, and night to Scorpio; + +Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not, + But goes his way, whate’er to him appear, + If of necessity the sting transfix him, + +In this wise did we enter through the gap, + Taking the stairway, one before the other, + Which by its narrowness divides the climbers. + +And as the little stork that lifts its wing + With a desire to fly, and does not venture + To leave the nest, and lets it downward droop, + +Even such was I, with the desire of asking + Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming + He makes who doth address himself to speak. + +Not for our pace, though rapid it might be, + My father sweet forbore, but said: “Let fly + The bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn.” + +With confidence I opened then my mouth, + And I began: “How can one meagre grow + There where the need of nutriment applies not?” + +“If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager + Was wasted by the wasting of a brand, + This would not,” said he, “be to thee so sour; + +And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motion + Trembles within a mirror your own image; + That which seems hard would mellow seem to thee. + +But that thou mayst content thee in thy wish + Lo Statius here; and him I call and pray + He now will be the healer of thy wounds.” + +“If I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,” + Responded Statius, “where thou present art, + Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee.” + +Then he began: “Son, if these words of mine + Thy mind doth contemplate and doth receive, + They’ll be thy light unto the How thou sayest. + +The perfect blood, which never is drunk up + Into the thirsty veins, and which remaineth + Like food that from the table thou removest, + +Takes in the heart for all the human members + Virtue informative, as being that + Which to be changed to them goes through the veins + +Again digest, descends it where ’tis better + Silent to be than say; and then drops thence + Upon another’s blood in natural vase. + +There one together with the other mingles, + One to be passive meant, the other active + By reason of the perfect place it springs from; + +And being conjoined, begins to operate, + Coagulating first, then vivifying + What for its matter it had made consistent. + +The active virtue, being made a soul + As of a plant, (in so far different, + This on the way is, that arrived already,) + +Then works so much, that now it moves and feels + Like a sea-fungus, and then undertakes + To organize the powers whose seed it is. + +Now, Son, dilates and now distends itself + The virtue from the generator’s heart, + Where nature is intent on all the members. + +But how from animal it man becomes + Thou dost not see as yet; this is a point + Which made a wiser man than thou once err + +So far, that in his doctrine separate + He made the soul from possible intellect, + For he no organ saw by this assumed. + +Open thy breast unto the truth that’s coming, + And know that, just as soon as in the foetus + The articulation of the brain is perfect, + +The primal Motor turns to it well pleased + At so great art of nature, and inspires + A spirit new with virtue all replete, + +Which what it finds there active doth attract + Into its substance, and becomes one soul, + Which lives, and feels, and on itself revolves. + +And that thou less may wonder at my word, + Behold the sun’s heat, which becometh wine, + Joined to the juice that from the vine distils. + +Whenever Lachesis has no more thread, + It separates from the flesh, and virtually + Bears with itself the human and divine; + +The other faculties are voiceless all; + The memory, the intelligence, and the will + In action far more vigorous than before. + +Without a pause it falleth of itself + In marvellous way on one shore or the other; + There of its roads it first is cognizant. + +Soon as the place there circumscribeth it, + The virtue informative rays round about, + As, and as much as, in the living members. + +And even as the air, when full of rain, + By alien rays that are therein reflected, + With divers colours shows itself adorned, + +So there the neighbouring air doth shape itself + Into that form which doth impress upon it + Virtually the soul that has stood still. + +And then in manner of the little flame, + Which followeth the fire where’er it shifts, + After the spirit followeth its new form. + +Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance, + It is called shade; and thence it organizes + Thereafter every sense, even to the sight. + +Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh; + Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs, + That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard. + +According as impress us our desires + And other affections, so the shade is shaped, + And this is cause of what thou wonderest at.” + +And now unto the last of all the circles + Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned, + And were attentive to another care. + +There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire, + And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast + That drives them back, and from itself sequesters. + +Hence we must needs go on the open side, + And one by one; and I did fear the fire + On this side, and on that the falling down. + +My Leader said: “Along this place one ought + To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein, + Seeing that one so easily might err.” + +“Summae Deus clementiae,” in the bosom + Of the great burning chanted then I heard, + Which made me no less eager to turn round; + +And spirits saw I walking through the flame; + Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirs + Apportioning my sight from time to time. + +After the close which to that hymn is made, + Aloud they shouted, “Virum non cognosco;” + Then recommenced the hymn with voices low. + +This also ended, cried they: “To the wood + Diana ran, and drove forth Helice + Therefrom, who had of Venus felt the poison.” + +Then to their song returned they; then the wives + They shouted, and the husbands who were chaste. + As virtue and the marriage vow imposes. + +And I believe that them this mode suffices, + For all the time the fire is burning them; + With such care is it needful, and such food, + +That the last wound of all should be closed up. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXVI + + +While on the brink thus one before the other + We went upon our way, oft the good Master + Said: “Take thou heed! suffice it that I warn thee.” + +On the right shoulder smote me now the sun, + That, raying out, already the whole west + Changed from its azure aspect into white. + +And with my shadow did I make the flame + Appear more red; and even to such a sign + Shades saw I many, as they went, give heed. + +This was the cause that gave them a beginning + To speak of me; and to themselves began they + To say: “That seems not a factitious body!” + +Then towards me, as far as they could come, + Came certain of them, always with regard + Not to step forth where they would not be burned. + +“O thou who goest, not from being slower + But reverent perhaps, behind the others, + Answer me, who in thirst and fire am burning. + +Nor to me only is thine answer needful; + For all of these have greater thirst for it + Than for cold water Ethiop or Indian. + +Tell us how is it that thou makest thyself + A wall unto the sun, as if thou hadst not + Entered as yet into the net of death.” + +Thus one of them addressed me, and I straight + Should have revealed myself, were I not bent + On other novelty that then appeared. + +For through the middle of the burning road + There came a people face to face with these, + Which held me in suspense with gazing at them. + +There see I hastening upon either side + Each of the shades, and kissing one another + Without a pause, content with brief salute. + +Thus in the middle of their brown battalions + Muzzle to muzzle one ant meets another + Perchance to spy their journey or their fortune. + +No sooner is the friendly greeting ended, + Or ever the first footstep passes onward, + Each one endeavours to outcry the other; + +The new-come people: “Sodom and Gomorrah!” + The rest: “Into the cow Pasiphae enters, + So that the bull unto her lust may run!” + +Then as the cranes, that to Riphaean mountains + Might fly in part, and part towards the sands, + These of the frost, those of the sun avoidant, + +One folk is going, and the other coming, + And weeping they return to their first songs, + And to the cry that most befitteth them; + +And close to me approached, even as before, + The very same who had entreated me, + Attent to listen in their countenance. + +I, who their inclination twice had seen, + Began: “O souls secure in the possession, + Whene’er it may be, of a state of peace, + +Neither unripe nor ripened have remained + My members upon earth, but here are with me + With their own blood and their articulations. + +I go up here to be no longer blind; + A Lady is above, who wins this grace, + Whereby the mortal through your world I bring. + +But as your greatest longing satisfied + May soon become, so that the Heaven may house you + Which full of love is, and most amply spreads, + +Tell me, that I again in books may write it, + Who are you, and what is that multitude + Which goes upon its way behind your backs?” + +Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered + The mountaineer, and staring round is dumb, + When rough and rustic to the town he goes, + +Than every shade became in its appearance; + But when they of their stupor were disburdened, + Which in high hearts is quickly quieted, + +“Blessed be thou, who of our border-lands,” + He recommenced who first had questioned us, + “Experience freightest for a better life. + +The folk that comes not with us have offended + In that for which once Caesar, triumphing, + Heard himself called in contumely, ‘Queen.’ + +Therefore they separate, exclaiming, ‘Sodom!’ + Themselves reproving, even as thou hast heard, + And add unto their burning by their shame. + +Our own transgression was hermaphrodite; + But because we observed not human law, + Following like unto beasts our appetite, + +In our opprobrium by us is read, + When we part company, the name of her + Who bestialized herself in bestial wood. + +Now knowest thou our acts, and what our crime was; + Wouldst thou perchance by name know who we are, + There is not time to tell, nor could I do it. + +Thy wish to know me shall in sooth be granted; + I’m Guido Guinicelli, and now purge me, + Having repented ere the hour extreme.” + +The same that in the sadness of Lycurgus + Two sons became, their mother re-beholding, + Such I became, but rise not to such height, + +The moment I heard name himself the father + Of me and of my betters, who had ever + Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes of love; + +And without speech and hearing thoughtfully + For a long time I went, beholding him, + Nor for the fire did I approach him nearer. + +When I was fed with looking, utterly + Myself I offered ready for his service, + With affirmation that compels belief. + +And he to me: “Thou leavest footprints such + In me, from what I hear, and so distinct, + Lethe cannot efface them, nor make dim. + +But if thy words just now the truth have sworn, + Tell me what is the cause why thou displayest + In word and look that dear thou holdest me?” + +And I to him: “Those dulcet lays of yours + Which, long as shall endure our modern fashion, + Shall make for ever dear their very ink!” + +“O brother,” said he, “he whom I point out,” + And here he pointed at a spirit in front, + “Was of the mother tongue a better smith. + +Verses of love and proses of romance, + He mastered all; and let the idiots talk, + Who think the Lemosin surpasses him. + +To clamour more than truth they turn their faces, + And in this way establish their opinion, + Ere art or reason has by them been heard. + +Thus many ancients with Guittone did, + From cry to cry still giving him applause, + Until the truth has conquered with most persons. + +Now, if thou hast such ample privilege + ’Tis granted thee to go unto the cloister + Wherein is Christ the abbot of the college, + +To him repeat for me a Paternoster, + So far as needful to us of this world, + Where power of sinning is no longer ours.” + +Then, to give place perchance to one behind, + Whom he had near, he vanished in the fire + As fish in water going to the bottom. + +I moved a little tow’rds him pointed out, + And said that to his name my own desire + An honourable place was making ready. + +He of his own free will began to say: + ‘Tan m’ abellis vostre cortes deman, + Que jeu nom’ puesc ni vueill a vos cobrire; + +Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai chantan; + Consiros vei la passada folor, + E vei jauzen lo jorn qu’ esper denan. + +Ara vus prec per aquella valor, + Que vus condus al som de la scalina, + Sovenga vus a temprar ma dolor.’* + +Then hid him in the fire that purifies them. + +* So pleases me your courteous demand, + I cannot and I will not hide me from you. +I am Arnaut, who weep and singing go; + Contrite I see the folly of the past, + And joyous see the hoped-for day before me. +Therefore do I implore you, by that power + Which guides you to the summit of the stairs, + Be mindful to assuage my suffering! + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXVII + + +As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays, + In regions where his Maker shed his blood, + (The Ebro falling under lofty Libra, + +And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,) + So stood the Sun; hence was the day departing, + When the glad Angel of God appeared to us. + +Outside the flame he stood upon the verge, + And chanted forth, “Beati mundo corde,” + In voice by far more living than our own. + +Then: “No one farther goes, souls sanctified, + If first the fire bite not; within it enter, + And be not deaf unto the song beyond.” + +When we were close beside him thus he said; + Wherefore e’en such became I, when I heard him, + As he is who is put into the grave. + +Upon my clasped hands I straightened me, + Scanning the fire, and vividly recalling + The human bodies I had once seen burned. + +Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors, + And unto me Virgilius said: “My son, + Here may indeed be torment, but not death. + +Remember thee, remember! and if I + On Geryon have safely guided thee, + What shall I do now I am nearer God? + +Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full + Millennium in the bosom of this flame, + It could not make thee bald a single hair. + +And if perchance thou think that I deceive thee, + Draw near to it, and put it to the proof + With thine own hands upon thy garment’s hem. + +Now lay aside, now lay aside all fear, + Turn hitherward, and onward come securely;” + And I still motionless, and ’gainst my conscience! + +Seeing me stand still motionless and stubborn, + Somewhat disturbed he said: “Now look thou, Son, + ’Twixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall.” + +As at the name of Thisbe oped his lids + The dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her, + What time the mulberry became vermilion, + +Even thus, my obduracy being softened, + I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name + That in my memory evermore is welling. + +Whereat he wagged his head, and said: “How now? + Shall we stay on this side?” then smiled as one + Does at a child who’s vanquished by an apple. + +Then into the fire in front of me he entered, + Beseeching Statius to come after me, + Who a long way before divided us. + +When I was in it, into molten glass + I would have cast me to refresh myself, + So without measure was the burning there! + +And my sweet Father, to encourage me, + Discoursing still of Beatrice went on, + Saying: “Her eyes I seem to see already!” + +A voice, that on the other side was singing, + Directed us, and we, attent alone + On that, came forth where the ascent began. + +“Venite, benedicti Patris mei,” + Sounded within a splendour, which was there + Such it o’ercame me, and I could not look. + +“The sun departs,” it added, “and night cometh; + Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps, + So long as yet the west becomes not dark.” + +Straight forward through the rock the path ascended + In such a way that I cut off the rays + Before me of the sun, that now was low. + +And of few stairs we yet had made assay, + Ere by the vanished shadow the sun’s setting + Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages. + +And ere in all its parts immeasurable + The horizon of one aspect had become, + And Night her boundless dispensation held, + +Each of us of a stair had made his bed; + Because the nature of the mount took from us + The power of climbing, more than the delight. + +Even as in ruminating passive grow + The goats, who have been swift and venturesome + Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed, + +Hushed in the shadow, while the sun is hot, + Watched by the herdsman, who upon his staff + Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them; + +And as the shepherd, lodging out of doors, + Passes the night beside his quiet flock, + Watching that no wild beast may scatter it, + +Such at that hour were we, all three of us, + I like the goat, and like the herdsmen they, + Begirt on this side and on that by rocks. + +Little could there be seen of things without; + But through that little I beheld the stars + More luminous and larger than their wont. + +Thus ruminating, and beholding these, + Sleep seized upon me,—sleep, that oftentimes + Before a deed is done has tidings of it. + +It was the hour, I think, when from the East + First on the mountain Citherea beamed, + Who with the fire of love seems always burning; + +Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought + I saw a lady walking in a meadow, + Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying: + +“Know whosoever may my name demand + That I am Leah, and go moving round + My beauteous hands to make myself a garland. + +To please me at the mirror, here I deck me, + But never does my sister Rachel leave + Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long. + +To see her beauteous eyes as eager is she, + As I am to adorn me with my hands; + Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies.” + +And now before the antelucan splendours + That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise, + As, home-returning, less remote they lodge, + +The darkness fled away on every side, + And slumber with it; whereupon I rose, + Seeing already the great Masters risen. + +“That apple sweet, which through so many branches + The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of, + To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings.” + +Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words + As these made use; and never were there guerdons + That could in pleasantness compare with these. + +Such longing upon longing came upon me + To be above, that at each step thereafter + For flight I felt in me the pinions growing. + +When underneath us was the stairway all + Run o’er, and we were on the highest step, + Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes, + +And said: “The temporal fire and the eternal, + Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come + Where of myself no farther I discern. + +By intellect and art I here have brought thee; + Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth; + Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou. + +Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead; + Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs + Which of itself alone this land produces. + +Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes + Which weeping caused me to come unto thee, + Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them. + +Expect no more or word or sign from me; + Free and upright and sound is thy free-will, + And error were it not to do its bidding; + +Thee o’er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXVIII + + +Eager already to search in and round + The heavenly forest, dense and living-green, + Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day, + +Withouten more delay I left the bank, + Taking the level country slowly, slowly + Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance. + +A softly-breathing air, that no mutation + Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me + No heavier blow than of a gentle wind, + +Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous, + Did all of them bow downward toward that side + Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain; + +Yet not from their upright direction swayed, + So that the little birds upon their tops + Should leave the practice of each art of theirs; + +But with full ravishment the hours of prime, + Singing, received they in the midst of leaves, + That ever bore a burden to their rhymes, + +Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on + Through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi, + When Eolus unlooses the Sirocco. + +Already my slow steps had carried me + Into the ancient wood so far, that I + Could not perceive where I had entered it. + +And lo! my further course a stream cut off, + Which tow’rd the left hand with its little waves + Bent down the grass that on its margin sprang. + +All waters that on earth most limpid are + Would seem to have within themselves some mixture + Compared with that which nothing doth conceal, + +Although it moves on with a brown, brown current + Under the shade perpetual, that never + Ray of the sun lets in, nor of the moon. + +With feet I stayed, and with mine eyes I passed + Beyond the rivulet, to look upon + The great variety of the fresh may. + +And there appeared to me (even as appears + Suddenly something that doth turn aside + Through very wonder every other thought) + +A lady all alone, who went along + Singing and culling floweret after floweret, + With which her pathway was all painted over. + +“Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays of love + Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks, + Which the heart’s witnesses are wont to be, + +May the desire come unto thee to draw + Near to this river’s bank,” I said to her, + “So much that I might hear what thou art singing. + +Thou makest me remember where and what + Proserpina that moment was when lost + Her mother her, and she herself the Spring.” + +As turns herself, with feet together pressed + And to the ground, a lady who is dancing, + And hardly puts one foot before the other, + +On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets + She turned towards me, not in other wise + Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down; + +And my entreaties made to be content, + So near approaching, that the dulcet sound + Came unto me together with its meaning + +As soon as she was where the grasses are. + Bathed by the waters of the beauteous river, + To lift her eyes she granted me the boon. + +I do not think there shone so great a light + Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed + By her own son, beyond his usual custom! + +Erect upon the other bank she smiled, + Bearing full many colours in her hands, + Which that high land produces without seed. + +Apart three paces did the river make us; + But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across, + (A curb still to all human arrogance,) + +More hatred from Leander did not suffer + For rolling between Sestos and Abydos, + Than that from me, because it oped not then. + +“Ye are new-comers; and because I smile,” + Began she, “peradventure, in this place + Elect to human nature for its nest, + +Some apprehension keeps you marvelling; + But the psalm ‘Delectasti’ giveth light + Which has the power to uncloud your intellect. + +And thou who foremost art, and didst entreat me, + Speak, if thou wouldst hear more; for I came ready + To all thy questionings, as far as needful.” + +“The water,” said I, “and the forest’s sound, + Are combating within me my new faith + In something which I heard opposed to this.” + +Whence she: “I will relate how from its cause + Proceedeth that which maketh thee to wonder, + And purge away the cloud that smites upon thee. + +The Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting, + Created man good, and this goodly place + Gave him as hansel of eternal peace. + +By his default short while he sojourned here; + By his default to weeping and to toil + He changed his innocent laughter and sweet play. + +That the disturbance which below is made + By exhalations of the land and water, + (Which far as may be follow after heat,) + +Might not upon mankind wage any war, + This mount ascended tow’rds the heaven so high, + And is exempt, from there where it is locked. + +Now since the universal atmosphere + Turns in a circuit with the primal motion + Unless the circle is broken on some side, + +Upon this height, that all is disengaged + In living ether, doth this motion strike + And make the forest sound, for it is dense; + +And so much power the stricken plant possesses + That with its virtue it impregns the air, + And this, revolving, scatters it around; + +And yonder earth, according as ’tis worthy + In self or in its clime, conceives and bears + Of divers qualities the divers trees; + +It should not seem a marvel then on earth, + This being heard, whenever any plant + Without seed manifest there taketh root. + +And thou must know, this holy table-land + In which thou art is full of every seed, + And fruit has in it never gathered there. + +The water which thou seest springs not from vein + Restored by vapour that the cold condenses, + Like to a stream that gains or loses breath; + +But issues from a fountain safe and certain, + Which by the will of God as much regains + As it discharges, open on two sides. + +Upon this side with virtue it descends, + Which takes away all memory of sin; + On that, of every good deed done restores it. + +Here Lethe, as upon the other side + Eunoe, it is called; and worketh not + If first on either side it be not tasted. + +This every other savour doth transcend; + And notwithstanding slaked so far may be + Thy thirst, that I reveal to thee no more, + +I’ll give thee a corollary still in grace, + Nor think my speech will be to thee less dear + If it spread out beyond my promise to thee. + +Those who in ancient times have feigned in song + The Age of Gold and its felicity, + Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus. + +Here was the human race in innocence; + Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit; + This is the nectar of which each one speaks.” + +Then backward did I turn me wholly round + Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile + They had been listening to these closing words; + +Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXIX + + +Singing like unto an enamoured lady + She, with the ending of her words, continued: + “Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata.” + +And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone + Among the sylvan shadows, sedulous + One to avoid and one to see the sun, + +She then against the stream moved onward, going + Along the bank, and I abreast of her, + Her little steps with little steps attending. + +Between her steps and mine were not a hundred, + When equally the margins gave a turn, + In such a way, that to the East I faced. + +Nor even thus our way continued far + Before the lady wholly turned herself + Unto me, saying, “Brother, look and listen!” + +And lo! a sudden lustre ran across + On every side athwart the spacious forest, + Such that it made me doubt if it were lightning. + +But since the lightning ceases as it comes, + And that continuing brightened more and more, + Within my thought I said, “What thing is this?” + +And a delicious melody there ran + Along the luminous air, whence holy zeal + Made me rebuke the hardihood of Eve; + +For there where earth and heaven obedient were, + The woman only, and but just created, + Could not endure to stay ’neath any veil; + +Underneath which had she devoutly stayed, + I sooner should have tasted those delights + Ineffable, and for a longer time. + +While ’mid such manifold first-fruits I walked + Of the eternal pleasure all enrapt, + And still solicitous of more delights, + +In front of us like an enkindled fire + Became the air beneath the verdant boughs, + And the sweet sound as singing now was heard. + +O Virgins sacrosanct! if ever hunger, + Vigils, or cold for you I have endured, + The occasion spurs me their reward to claim! + +Now Helicon must needs pour forth for me, + And with her choir Urania must assist me, + To put in verse things difficult to think. + +A little farther on, seven trees of gold + In semblance the long space still intervening + Between ourselves and them did counterfeit; + +But when I had approached so near to them + The common object, which the sense deceives, + Lost not by distance any of its marks, + +The faculty that lends discourse to reason + Did apprehend that they were candlesticks, + And in the voices of the song “Hosanna!” + +Above them flamed the harness beautiful, + Far brighter than the moon in the serene + Of midnight, at the middle of her month. + +I turned me round, with admiration filled, + To good Virgilius, and he answered me + With visage no less full of wonderment. + +Then back I turned my face to those high things, + Which moved themselves towards us so sedately, + They had been distanced by new-wedded brides. + +The lady chid me: “Why dost thou burn only + So with affection for the living lights, + And dost not look at what comes after them?” + +Then saw I people, as behind their leaders, + Coming behind them, garmented in white, + And such a whiteness never was on earth. + +The water on my left flank was resplendent, + And back to me reflected my left side, + E’en as a mirror, if I looked therein. + +When I upon my margin had such post + That nothing but the stream divided us, + Better to see I gave my steps repose; + +And I beheld the flamelets onward go, + Leaving behind themselves the air depicted, + And they of trailing pennons had the semblance, + +So that it overhead remained distinct + With sevenfold lists, all of them of the colours + Whence the sun’s bow is made, and Delia’s girdle. + +These standards to the rearward longer were + Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me, + Ten paces were the outermost apart. + +Under so fair a heaven as I describe + The four and twenty Elders, two by two, + Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce. + +They all of them were singing: “Blessed thou + Among the daughters of Adam art, and blessed + For evermore shall be thy loveliness.” + +After the flowers and other tender grasses + In front of me upon the other margin + Were disencumbered of that race elect, + +Even as in heaven star followeth after star, + There came close after them four animals, + Incoronate each one with verdant leaf. + +Plumed with six wings was every one of them, + The plumage full of eyes; the eyes of Argus + If they were living would be such as these. + +Reader! to trace their forms no more I waste + My rhymes; for other spendings press me so, + That I in this cannot be prodigal. + +But read Ezekiel, who depicteth them + As he beheld them from the region cold + Coming with cloud, with whirlwind, and with fire; + +And such as thou shalt find them in his pages, + Such were they here; saving that in their plumage + John is with me, and differeth from him. + +The interval between these four contained + A chariot triumphal on two wheels, + Which by a Griffin’s neck came drawn along; + +And upward he extended both his wings + Between the middle list and three and three, + So that he injured none by cleaving it. + +So high they rose that they were lost to sight; + His limbs were gold, so far as he was bird, + And white the others with vermilion mingled. + +Not only Rome with no such splendid car + E’er gladdened Africanus, or Augustus, + But poor to it that of the Sun would be,— + +That of the Sun, which swerving was burnt up + At the importunate orison of Earth, + When Jove was so mysteriously just. + +Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle + Came onward dancing; one so very red + That in the fire she hardly had been noted. + +The second was as if her flesh and bones + Had all been fashioned out of emerald; + The third appeared as snow but newly fallen. + +And now they seemed conducted by the white, + Now by the red, and from the song of her + The others took their step, or slow or swift. + +Upon the left hand four made holiday + Vested in purple, following the measure + Of one of them with three eyes in her head. + +In rear of all the group here treated of + Two old men I beheld, unlike in habit, + But like in gait, each dignified and grave. + +One showed himself as one of the disciples + Of that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature + Made for the animals she holds most dear; + +Contrary care the other manifested, + With sword so shining and so sharp, it caused + Terror to me on this side of the river. + +Thereafter four I saw of humble aspect, + And behind all an aged man alone + Walking in sleep with countenance acute. + +And like the foremost company these seven + Were habited; yet of the flower-de-luce + No garland round about the head they wore, + +But of the rose, and other flowers vermilion; + At little distance would the sight have sworn + That all were in a flame above their brows. + +And when the car was opposite to me + Thunder was heard; and all that folk august + Seemed to have further progress interdicted, + +There with the vanward ensigns standing still. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXX + + +When the Septentrion of the highest heaven + (Which never either setting knew or rising, + Nor veil of other cloud than that of sin, + +And which made every one therein aware + Of his own duty, as the lower makes + Whoever turns the helm to come to port) + +Motionless halted, the veracious people, + That came at first between it and the Griffin, + Turned themselves to the car, as to their peace. + +And one of them, as if by Heaven commissioned, + Singing, “Veni, sponsa, de Libano” + Shouted three times, and all the others after. + +Even as the Blessed at the final summons + Shall rise up quickened each one from his cavern, + Uplifting light the reinvested flesh, + +So upon that celestial chariot + A hundred rose ‘ad vocem tanti senis,’ + Ministers and messengers of life eternal. + +They all were saying, “Benedictus qui venis,” + And, scattering flowers above and round about, + “Manibus o date lilia plenis.” + +Ere now have I beheld, as day began, + The eastern hemisphere all tinged with rose, + And the other heaven with fair serene adorned; + +And the sun’s face, uprising, overshadowed + So that by tempering influence of vapours + For a long interval the eye sustained it; + +Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers + Which from those hands angelical ascended, + And downward fell again inside and out, + +Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct + Appeared a lady under a green mantle, + Vested in colour of the living flame. + +And my own spirit, that already now + So long a time had been, that in her presence + Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed, + +Without more knowledge having by mine eyes, + Through occult virtue that from her proceeded + Of ancient love the mighty influence felt. + +As soon as on my vision smote the power + Sublime, that had already pierced me through + Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth, + +To the left hand I turned with that reliance + With which the little child runs to his mother, + When he has fear, or when he is afflicted, + +To say unto Virgilius: “Not a drachm + Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble; + I know the traces of the ancient flame.” + +But us Virgilius of himself deprived + Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers, + Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me: + +Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother + Availed my cheeks now purified from dew, + That weeping they should not again be darkened. + +“Dante, because Virgilius has departed + Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile; + For by another sword thou need’st must weep.” + +E’en as an admiral, who on poop and prow + Comes to behold the people that are working + In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing, + +Upon the left hand border of the car, + When at the sound I turned of my own name, + Which of necessity is here recorded, + +I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared + Veiled underneath the angelic festival, + Direct her eyes to me across the river. + +Although the veil, that from her head descended, + Encircled with the foliage of Minerva, + Did not permit her to appear distinctly, + +In attitude still royally majestic + Continued she, like unto one who speaks, + And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve: + +“Look at me well; in sooth I’m Beatrice! + How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? + Didst thou not know that man is happy here?” + +Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, + But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, + So great a shame did weigh my forehead down. + +As to the son the mother seems superb, + So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter + Tasteth the savour of severe compassion. + +Silent became she, and the Angels sang + Suddenly, “In te, Domine, speravi:” + But beyond ‘pedes meos’ did not pass. + +Even as the snow among the living rafters + Upon the back of Italy congeals, + Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds, + +And then, dissolving, trickles through itself + Whene’er the land that loses shadow breathes, + So that it seems a fire that melts a taper; + +E’en thus was I without a tear or sigh, + Before the song of those who sing for ever + After the music of the eternal spheres. + +But when I heard in their sweet melodies + Compassion for me, more than had they said, + “O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him?” + +The ice, that was about my heart congealed, + To air and water changed, and in my anguish + Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast. + +She, on the right-hand border of the car + Still firmly standing, to those holy beings + Thus her discourse directed afterwards: + +“Ye keep your watch in the eternal day, + So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you + One step the ages make upon their path; + +Therefore my answer is with greater care, + That he may hear me who is weeping yonder, + So that the sin and dole be of one measure. + +Not only by the work of those great wheels, + That destine every seed unto some end, + According as the stars are in conjunction, + +But by the largess of celestial graces, + Which have such lofty vapours for their rain + That near to them our sight approaches not, + +Such had this man become in his new life + Potentially, that every righteous habit + Would have made admirable proof in him; + +But so much more malignant and more savage + Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed, + The more good earthly vigour it possesses. + +Some time did I sustain him with my look; + Revealing unto him my youthful eyes, + I led him with me turned in the right way. + +As soon as ever of my second age + I was upon the threshold and changed life, + Himself from me he took and gave to others. + +When from the flesh to spirit I ascended, + And beauty and virtue were in me increased, + I was to him less dear and less delightful; + +And into ways untrue he turned his steps, + Pursuing the false images of good, + That never any promises fulfil; + +Nor prayer for inspiration me availed, + By means of which in dreams and otherwise + I called him back, so little did he heed them. + +So low he fell, that all appliances + For his salvation were already short, + Save showing him the people of perdition. + +For this I visited the gates of death, + And unto him, who so far up has led him, + My intercessions were with weeping borne. + +God’s lofty fiat would be violated, + If Lethe should be passed, and if such viands + Should tasted be, withouten any scot + +Of penitence, that gushes forth in tears.” + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXXI + + +“O thou who art beyond the sacred river,” + Turning to me the point of her discourse, + That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen, + +She recommenced, continuing without pause, + “Say, say if this be true; to such a charge, + Thy own confession needs must be conjoined.” + +My faculties were in so great confusion, + That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct + Than by its organs it was set at large. + +Awhile she waited; then she said: “What thinkest? + Answer me; for the mournful memories + In thee not yet are by the waters injured.” + +Confusion and dismay together mingled + Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight + Was needful to the understanding of it. + +Even as a cross-bow breaks, when ’tis discharged + Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow, + And with less force the arrow hits the mark, + +So I gave way beneath that heavy burden, + Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs, + And the voice flagged upon its passage forth. + +Whence she to me: “In those desires of mine + Which led thee to the loving of that good, + Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to, + +What trenches lying traverse or what chains + Didst thou discover, that of passing onward + Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope? + +And what allurements or what vantages + Upon the forehead of the others showed, + That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?” + +After the heaving of a bitter sigh, + Hardly had I the voice to make response, + And with fatigue my lips did fashion it. + +Weeping I said: “The things that present were + With their false pleasure turned aside my steps, + Soon as your countenance concealed itself.” + +And she: “Shouldst thou be silent, or deny + What thou confessest, not less manifest + Would be thy fault, by such a Judge ’tis known. + +But when from one’s own cheeks comes bursting forth + The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal + Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself. + +But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame + For thy transgression, and another time + Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong, + +Cast down the seed of weeping and attend; + So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way + My buried flesh should have directed thee. + +Never to thee presented art or nature + Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein + I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth. + +And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee + By reason of my death, what mortal thing + Should then have drawn thee into its desire? + +Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft + Of things fallacious to have risen up + To follow me, who was no longer such. + +Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward + To wait for further blows, or little girl, + Or other vanity of such brief use. + +The callow birdlet waits for two or three, + But to the eyes of those already fledged, + In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot.” + +Even as children silent in their shame + Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground, + And conscious of their fault, and penitent; + +So was I standing; and she said: “If thou + In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard + And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing.” + +With less resistance is a robust holm + Uprooted, either by a native wind + Or else by that from regions of Iarbas, + +Than I upraised at her command my chin; + And when she by the beard the face demanded, + Well I perceived the venom of her meaning. + +And as my countenance was lifted up, + Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful + Had rested from the strewing of the flowers; + +And, still but little reassured, mine eyes + Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster, + That is one person only in two natures. + +Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green, + She seemed to me far more her ancient self + To excel, than others here, when she was here. + +So pricked me then the thorn of penitence, + That of all other things the one which turned me + Most to its love became the most my foe. + +Such self-conviction stung me at the heart + O’erpowered I fell, and what I then became + She knoweth who had furnished me the cause. + +Then, when the heart restored my outward sense, + The lady I had found alone, above me + I saw, and she was saying, “Hold me, hold me.” + +Up to my throat she in the stream had drawn me, + And, dragging me behind her, she was moving + Upon the water lightly as a shuttle. + +When I was near unto the blessed shore, + “Asperges me,” I heard so sweetly sung, + Remember it I cannot, much less write it. + +The beautiful lady opened wide her arms, + Embraced my head, and plunged me underneath, + Where I was forced to swallow of the water. + +Then forth she drew me, and all dripping brought + Into the dance of the four beautiful, + And each one with her arm did cover me. + +‘We here are Nymphs, and in the Heaven are stars; + Ere Beatrice descended to the world, + We as her handmaids were appointed her. + +We’ll lead thee to her eyes; but for the pleasant + Light that within them is, shall sharpen thine + The three beyond, who more profoundly look.’ + +Thus singing they began; and afterwards + Unto the Griffin’s breast they led me with them, + Where Beatrice was standing, turned towards us. + +“See that thou dost not spare thine eyes,” they said; + “Before the emeralds have we stationed thee, + Whence Love aforetime drew for thee his weapons.” + +A thousand longings, hotter than the flame, + Fastened mine eyes upon those eyes relucent, + That still upon the Griffin steadfast stayed. + +As in a glass the sun, not otherwise + Within them was the twofold monster shining, + Now with the one, now with the other nature. + +Think, Reader, if within myself I marvelled, + When I beheld the thing itself stand still, + And in its image it transformed itself. + +While with amazement filled and jubilant, + My soul was tasting of the food, that while + It satisfies us makes us hunger for it, + +Themselves revealing of the highest rank + In bearing, did the other three advance, + Singing to their angelic saraband. + +“Turn, Beatrice, O turn thy holy eyes,” + Such was their song, “unto thy faithful one, + Who has to see thee ta’en so many steps. + +In grace do us the grace that thou unveil + Thy face to him, so that he may discern + The second beauty which thou dost conceal.” + +O splendour of the living light eternal! + Who underneath the shadow of Parnassus + Has grown so pale, or drunk so at its cistern, + +He would not seem to have his mind encumbered + Striving to paint thee as thou didst appear, + Where the harmonious heaven o’ershadowed thee, + +When in the open air thou didst unveil? + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXXII + + +So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes + In satisfying their decennial thirst, + That all my other senses were extinct, + +And upon this side and on that they had + Walls of indifference, so the holy smile + Drew them unto itself with the old net + +When forcibly my sight was turned away + Towards my left hand by those goddesses, + Because I heard from them a “Too intently!” + +And that condition of the sight which is + In eyes but lately smitten by the sun + Bereft me of my vision some short while; + +But to the less when sight re-shaped itself, + I say the less in reference to the greater + Splendour from which perforce I had withdrawn, + +I saw upon its right wing wheeled about + The glorious host returning with the sun + And with the sevenfold flames upon their faces. + +As underneath its shields, to save itself, + A squadron turns, and with its banner wheels, + Before the whole thereof can change its front, + +That soldiery of the celestial kingdom + Which marched in the advance had wholly passed us + Before the chariot had turned its pole. + +Then to the wheels the maidens turned themselves, + And the Griffin moved his burden benedight, + But so that not a feather of him fluttered. + +The lady fair who drew me through the ford + Followed with Statius and myself the wheel + Which made its orbit with the lesser arc. + +So passing through the lofty forest, vacant + By fault of her who in the serpent trusted, + Angelic music made our steps keep time. + +Perchance as great a space had in three flights + An arrow loosened from the string o’erpassed, + As we had moved when Beatrice descended. + +I heard them murmur altogether, “Adam!” + Then circled they about a tree despoiled + Of blooms and other leafage on each bough. + +Its tresses, which so much the more dilate + As higher they ascend, had been by Indians + Among their forests marvelled at for height. + +“Blessed art thou, O Griffin, who dost not + Pluck with thy beak these branches sweet to taste, + Since appetite by this was turned to evil.” + +After this fashion round the tree robust + The others shouted; and the twofold creature: + “Thus is preserved the seed of all the just.” + +And turning to the pole which he had dragged, + He drew it close beneath the widowed bough, + And what was of it unto it left bound. + +In the same manner as our trees (when downward + Falls the great light, with that together mingled + Which after the celestial Lasca shines) + +Begin to swell, and then renew themselves, + Each one with its own colour, ere the Sun + Harness his steeds beneath another star: + +Less than of rose and more than violet + A hue disclosing, was renewed the tree + That had erewhile its boughs so desolate. + +I never heard, nor here below is sung, + The hymn which afterward that people sang, + Nor did I bear the melody throughout. + +Had I the power to paint how fell asleep + Those eyes compassionless, of Syrinx hearing, + Those eyes to which more watching cost so dear, + +Even as a painter who from model paints + I would portray how I was lulled asleep; + He may, who well can picture drowsihood. + +Therefore I pass to what time I awoke, + And say a splendour rent from me the veil + Of slumber, and a calling: “Rise, what dost thou?” + +As to behold the apple-tree in blossom + Which makes the Angels greedy for its fruit, + And keeps perpetual bridals in the Heaven, + +Peter and John and James conducted were, + And, overcome, recovered at the word + By which still greater slumbers have been broken, + +And saw their school diminished by the loss + Not only of Elias, but of Moses, + And the apparel of their Master changed; + +So I revived, and saw that piteous one + Above me standing, who had been conductress + Aforetime of my steps beside the river, + +And all in doubt I said, “Where’s Beatrice?” + And she: “Behold her seated underneath + The leafage new, upon the root of it. + +Behold the company that circles her; + The rest behind the Griffin are ascending + With more melodious song, and more profound.” + +And if her speech were more diffuse I know not, + Because already in my sight was she + Who from the hearing of aught else had shut me. + +Alone she sat upon the very earth, + Left there as guardian of the chariot + Which I had seen the biform monster fasten. + +Encircling her, a cloister made themselves + The seven Nymphs, with those lights in their hands + Which are secure from Aquilon and Auster. + +“Short while shalt thou be here a forester, + And thou shalt be with me for evermore + A citizen of that Rome where Christ is Roman. + +Therefore, for that world’s good which liveth ill, + Fix on the car thine eyes, and what thou seest, + Having returned to earth, take heed thou write.” + +Thus Beatrice; and I, who at the feet + Of her commandments all devoted was, + My mind and eyes directed where she willed. + +Never descended with so swift a motion + Fire from a heavy cloud, when it is raining + From out the region which is most remote, + +As I beheld the bird of Jove descend + Down through the tree, rending away the bark, + As well as blossoms and the foliage new, + +And he with all his might the chariot smote, + Whereat it reeled, like vessel in a tempest + Tossed by the waves, now starboard and now larboard. + +Thereafter saw I leap into the body + Of the triumphal vehicle a Fox, + That seemed unfed with any wholesome food. + +But for his hideous sins upbraiding him, + My Lady put him to as swift a flight + As such a fleshless skeleton could bear. + +Then by the way that it before had come, + Into the chariot’s chest I saw the Eagle + Descend, and leave it feathered with his plumes. + +And such as issues from a heart that mourns, + A voice from Heaven there issued, and it said: + “My little bark, how badly art thou freighted!” + +Methought, then, that the earth did yawn between + Both wheels, and I saw rise from it a Dragon, + Who through the chariot upward fixed his tail, + +And as a wasp that draweth back its sting, + Drawing unto himself his tail malign, + Drew out the floor, and went his way rejoicing. + +That which remained behind, even as with grass + A fertile region, with the feathers, offered + Perhaps with pure intention and benign, + +Reclothed itself, and with them were reclothed + The pole and both the wheels so speedily, + A sigh doth longer keep the lips apart. + +Transfigured thus the holy edifice + Thrust forward heads upon the parts of it, + Three on the pole and one at either corner. + +The first were horned like oxen; but the four + Had but a single horn upon the forehead; + A monster such had never yet been seen! + +Firm as a rock upon a mountain high, + Seated upon it, there appeared to me + A shameless whore, with eyes swift glancing round, + +And, as if not to have her taken from him, + Upright beside her I beheld a giant; + And ever and anon they kissed each other. + +But because she her wanton, roving eye + Turned upon me, her angry paramour + Did scourge her from her head unto her feet. + +Then full of jealousy, and fierce with wrath, + He loosed the monster, and across the forest + Dragged it so far, he made of that alone + +A shield unto the whore and the strange beast. + + + + +Purgatorio: Canto XXXIII + + +“Deus venerunt gentes,” alternating + Now three, now four, melodious psalmody + The maidens in the midst of tears began; + +And Beatrice, compassionate and sighing, + Listened to them with such a countenance, + That scarce more changed was Mary at the cross. + +But when the other virgins place had given + For her to speak, uprisen to her feet + With colour as of fire, she made response: + +“‘Modicum, et non videbitis me; + Et iterum,’ my sisters predilect, + ‘Modicum, et vos videbitis me.’” + +Then all the seven in front of her she placed; + And after her, by beckoning only, moved + Me and the lady and the sage who stayed. + +So she moved onward; and I do not think + That her tenth step was placed upon the ground, + When with her eyes upon mine eyes she smote, + +And with a tranquil aspect, “Come more quickly,” + To me she said, “that, if I speak with thee, + To listen to me thou mayst be well placed.” + +As soon as I was with her as I should be, + She said to me: “Why, brother, dost thou not + Venture to question now, in coming with me?” + +As unto those who are too reverential, + Speaking in presence of superiors, + Who drag no living utterance to their teeth, + +It me befell, that without perfect sound + Began I: “My necessity, Madonna, + You know, and that which thereunto is good.” + +And she to me: “Of fear and bashfulness + Henceforward I will have thee strip thyself, + So that thou speak no more as one who dreams. + +Know that the vessel which the serpent broke + Was, and is not; but let him who is guilty + Think that God’s vengeance does not fear a sop. + +Without an heir shall not for ever be + The Eagle that left his plumes upon the car, + Whence it became a monster, then a prey; + +For verily I see, and hence narrate it, + The stars already near to bring the time, + From every hindrance safe, and every bar, + +Within which a Five-hundred, Ten, and Five, + One sent from God, shall slay the thievish woman + And that same giant who is sinning with her. + +And peradventure my dark utterance, + Like Themis and the Sphinx, may less persuade thee, + Since, in their mode, it clouds the intellect; + +But soon the facts shall be the Naiades + Who shall this difficult enigma solve, + Without destruction of the flocks and harvests. + +Note thou; and even as by me are uttered + These words, so teach them unto those who live + That life which is a running unto death; + +And bear in mind, whene’er thou writest them, + Not to conceal what thou hast seen the plant, + That twice already has been pillaged here. + +Whoever pillages or shatters it, + With blasphemy of deed offendeth God, + Who made it holy for his use alone. + +For biting that, in pain and in desire + Five thousand years and more the first-born soul + Craved Him, who punished in himself the bite. + +Thy genius slumbers, if it deem it not + For special reason so pre-eminent + In height, and so inverted in its summit. + +And if thy vain imaginings had not been + Water of Elsa round about thy mind, + And Pyramus to the mulberry, their pleasure, + +Thou by so many circumstances only + The justice of the interdict of God + Morally in the tree wouldst recognize. + +But since I see thee in thine intellect + Converted into stone and stained with sin, + So that the light of my discourse doth daze thee, + +I will too, if not written, at least painted, + Thou bear it back within thee, for the reason + That cinct with palm the pilgrim’s staff is borne.” + +And I: “As by a signet is the wax + Which does not change the figure stamped upon it, + My brain is now imprinted by yourself. + +But wherefore so beyond my power of sight + Soars your desirable discourse, that aye + The more I strive, so much the more I lose it?” + +“That thou mayst recognize,” she said, “the school + Which thou hast followed, and mayst see how far + Its doctrine follows after my discourse, + +And mayst behold your path from the divine + Distant as far as separated is + From earth the heaven that highest hastens on.” + +Whence her I answered: “I do not remember + That ever I estranged myself from you, + Nor have I conscience of it that reproves me.” + +“And if thou art not able to remember,” + Smiling she answered, “recollect thee now + That thou this very day hast drunk of Lethe; + +And if from smoke a fire may be inferred, + Such an oblivion clearly demonstrates + Some error in thy will elsewhere intent. + +Truly from this time forward shall my words + Be naked, so far as it is befitting + To lay them open unto thy rude gaze.” + +And more coruscant and with slower steps + The sun was holding the meridian circle, + Which, with the point of view, shifts here and there + +When halted (as he cometh to a halt, + Who goes before a squadron as its escort, + If something new he find upon his way) + +The ladies seven at a dark shadow’s edge, + Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black, + The Alp upon its frigid border wears. + +In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates + Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain, + And slowly part, like friends, from one another. + +“O light, O glory of the human race! + What stream is this which here unfolds itself + From out one source, and from itself withdraws?” + +For such a prayer, ’twas said unto me, “Pray + Matilda that she tell thee;” and here answered, + As one does who doth free himself from blame, + +The beautiful lady: “This and other things + Were told to him by me; and sure I am + The water of Lethe has not hid them from him.” + +And Beatrice: “Perhaps a greater care, + Which oftentimes our memory takes away, + Has made the vision of his mind obscure. + +But Eunoe behold, that yonder rises; + Lead him to it, and, as thou art accustomed, + Revive again the half-dead virtue in him.” + +Like gentle soul, that maketh no excuse, + But makes its own will of another’s will + As soon as by a sign it is disclosed, + +Even so, when she had taken hold of me, + The beautiful lady moved, and unto Statius + Said, in her womanly manner, “Come with him.” + +If, Reader, I possessed a longer space + For writing it, I yet would sing in part + Of the sweet draught that ne’er would satiate me; + +But inasmuch as full are all the leaves + Made ready for this second canticle, + The curb of art no farther lets me go. + +From the most holy water I returned + Regenerate, in the manner of new trees + That are renewed with a new foliage, + +Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars. + + + + +PARADISO + + + + +Paradiso: Canto I + + +The glory of Him who moveth everything + Doth penetrate the universe, and shine + In one part more and in another less. + +Within that heaven which most his light receives + Was I, and things beheld which to repeat + Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; + +Because in drawing near to its desire + Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, + That after it the memory cannot go. + +Truly whatever of the holy realm + I had the power to treasure in my mind + Shall now become the subject of my song. + +O good Apollo, for this last emprise + Make of me such a vessel of thy power + As giving the beloved laurel asks! + +One summit of Parnassus hitherto + Has been enough for me, but now with both + I needs must enter the arena left. + +Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe + As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw + Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his. + +O power divine, lend’st thou thyself to me + So that the shadow of the blessed realm + Stamped in my brain I can make manifest, + +Thou’lt see me come unto thy darling tree, + And crown myself thereafter with those leaves + Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy. + +So seldom, Father, do we gather them + For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet, + (The fault and shame of human inclinations,) + +That the Peneian foliage should bring forth + Joy to the joyous Delphic deity, + When any one it makes to thirst for it. + +A little spark is followed by great flame; + Perchance with better voices after me + Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond! + +To mortal men by passages diverse + Uprises the world’s lamp; but by that one + Which circles four uniteth with three crosses, + +With better course and with a better star + Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax + Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion. + +Almost that passage had made morning there + And evening here, and there was wholly white + That hemisphere, and black the other part, + +When Beatrice towards the left-hand side + I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun; + Never did eagle fasten so upon it! + +And even as a second ray is wont + To issue from the first and reascend, + Like to a pilgrim who would fain return, + +Thus of her action, through the eyes infused + In my imagination, mine I made, + And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont. + +There much is lawful which is here unlawful + Unto our powers, by virtue of the place + Made for the human species as its own. + +Not long I bore it, nor so little while + But I beheld it sparkle round about + Like iron that comes molten from the fire; + +And suddenly it seemed that day to day + Was added, as if He who has the power + Had with another sun the heaven adorned. + +With eyes upon the everlasting wheels + Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her + Fixing my vision from above removed, + +Such at her aspect inwardly became + As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him + Peer of the other gods beneath the sea. + +To represent transhumanise in words + Impossible were; the example, then, suffice + Him for whom Grace the experience reserves. + +If I was merely what of me thou newly + Createdst, Love who governest the heaven, + Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light! + +When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal + Desiring thee, made me attentive to it + By harmony thou dost modulate and measure, + +Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled + By the sun’s flame, that neither rain nor river + E’er made a lake so widely spread abroad. + +The newness of the sound and the great light + Kindled in me a longing for their cause, + Never before with such acuteness felt; + +Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself, + To quiet in me my perturbed mind, + Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask, + +And she began: “Thou makest thyself so dull + With false imagining, that thou seest not + What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off. + +Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest; + But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, + Ne’er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.” + +If of my former doubt I was divested + By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, + I in a new one was the more ensnared; + +And said: “Already did I rest content + From great amazement; but am now amazed + In what way I transcend these bodies light.” + +Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh, + Her eyes directed tow’rds me with that look + A mother casts on a delirious child; + +And she began: “All things whate’er they be + Have order among themselves, and this is form, + That makes the universe resemble God. + +Here do the higher creatures see the footprints + Of the Eternal Power, which is the end + Whereto is made the law already mentioned. + +In the order that I speak of are inclined + All natures, by their destinies diverse, + More or less near unto their origin; + +Hence they move onward unto ports diverse + O’er the great sea of being; and each one + With instinct given it which bears it on. + +This bears away the fire towards the moon; + This is in mortal hearts the motive power + This binds together and unites the earth. + +Nor only the created things that are + Without intelligence this bow shoots forth, + But those that have both intellect and love. + +The Providence that regulates all this + Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet, + Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste. + +And thither now, as to a site decreed, + Bears us away the virtue of that cord + Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark. + +True is it, that as oftentimes the form + Accords not with the intention of the art, + Because in answering is matter deaf, + +So likewise from this course doth deviate + Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses, + Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way, + +(In the same wise as one may see the fire + Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus + Earthward is wrested by some false delight. + +Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge, + At thine ascent, than at a rivulet + From some high mount descending to the lowland. + +Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived + Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below, + As if on earth the living fire were quiet.” + +Thereat she heavenward turned again her face. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto II + + +O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, + Eager to listen, have been following + Behind my ship, that singing sails along, + +Turn back to look again upon your shores; + Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, + In losing me, you might yourselves be lost. + +The sea I sail has never yet been passed; + Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, + And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. + +Ye other few who have the neck uplifted + Betimes to th’ bread of Angels upon which + One liveth here and grows not sated by it, + +Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea + Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you + Upon the water that grows smooth again. + +Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed + Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be, + When Jason they beheld a ploughman made! + +The con-created and perpetual thirst + For the realm deiform did bear us on, + As swift almost as ye the heavens behold. + +Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her; + And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt + And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself, + +Arrived I saw me where a wondrous thing + Drew to itself my sight; and therefore she + From whom no care of mine could be concealed, + +Towards me turning, blithe as beautiful, + Said unto me: “Fix gratefully thy mind + On God, who unto the first star has brought us.” + +It seemed to me a cloud encompassed us, + Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright + As adamant on which the sun is striking. + +Into itself did the eternal pearl + Receive us, even as water doth receive + A ray of light, remaining still unbroken. + +If I was body, (and we here conceive not + How one dimension tolerates another, + Which needs must be if body enter body,) + +More the desire should be enkindled in us + That essence to behold, wherein is seen + How God and our own nature were united. + +There will be seen what we receive by faith, + Not demonstrated, but self-evident + In guise of the first truth that man believes. + +I made reply: “Madonna, as devoutly + As most I can do I give thanks to Him + Who has removed me from the mortal world. + +But tell me what the dusky spots may be + Upon this body, which below on earth + Make people tell that fabulous tale of Cain?” + +Somewhat she smiled; and then, “If the opinion + Of mortals be erroneous,” she said, + “Where’er the key of sense doth not unlock, + +Certes, the shafts of wonder should not pierce thee + Now, forasmuch as, following the senses, + Thou seest that the reason has short wings. + +But tell me what thou think’st of it thyself.” + And I: “What seems to us up here diverse, + Is caused, I think, by bodies rare and dense.” + +And she: “Right truly shalt thou see immersed + In error thy belief, if well thou hearest + The argument that I shall make against it. + +Lights many the eighth sphere displays to you + Which in their quality and quantity + May noted be of aspects different. + +If this were caused by rare and dense alone, + One only virtue would there be in all + Or more or less diffused, or equally. + +Virtues diverse must be perforce the fruits + Of formal principles; and these, save one, + Of course would by thy reasoning be destroyed. + +Besides, if rarity were of this dimness + The cause thou askest, either through and through + This planet thus attenuate were of matter, + +Or else, as in a body is apportioned + The fat and lean, so in like manner this + Would in its volume interchange the leaves. + +Were it the former, in the sun’s eclipse + It would be manifest by the shining through + Of light, as through aught tenuous interfused. + +This is not so; hence we must scan the other, + And if it chance the other I demolish, + Then falsified will thy opinion be. + +But if this rarity go not through and through, + There needs must be a limit, beyond which + Its contrary prevents the further passing, + +And thence the foreign radiance is reflected, + Even as a colour cometh back from glass, + The which behind itself concealeth lead. + +Now thou wilt say the sunbeam shows itself + More dimly there than in the other parts, + By being there reflected farther back. + +From this reply experiment will free thee + If e’er thou try it, which is wont to be + The fountain to the rivers of your arts. + +Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove + Alike from thee, the other more remote + Between the former two shall meet thine eyes. + +Turned towards these, cause that behind thy back + Be placed a light, illuming the three mirrors + And coming back to thee by all reflected. + +Though in its quantity be not so ample + The image most remote, there shalt thou see + How it perforce is equally resplendent. + +Now, as beneath the touches of warm rays + Naked the subject of the snow remains + Both of its former colour and its cold, + +Thee thus remaining in thy intellect, + Will I inform with such a living light, + That it shall tremble in its aspect to thee. + +Within the heaven of the divine repose + Revolves a body, in whose virtue lies + The being of whatever it contains. + +The following heaven, that has so many eyes, + Divides this being by essences diverse, + Distinguished from it, and by it contained. + +The other spheres, by various differences, + All the distinctions which they have within them + Dispose unto their ends and their effects. + +Thus do these organs of the world proceed, + As thou perceivest now, from grade to grade; + Since from above they take, and act beneath. + +Observe me well, how through this place I come + Unto the truth thou wishest, that hereafter + Thou mayst alone know how to keep the ford + +The power and motion of the holy spheres, + As from the artisan the hammer’s craft, + Forth from the blessed motors must proceed. + +The heaven, which lights so manifold make fair, + From the Intelligence profound, which turns it, + The image takes, and makes of it a seal. + +And even as the soul within your dust + Through members different and accommodated + To faculties diverse expands itself, + +So likewise this Intelligence diffuses + Its virtue multiplied among the stars. + Itself revolving on its unity. + +Virtue diverse doth a diverse alloyage + Make with the precious body that it quickens, + In which, as life in you, it is combined. + +From the glad nature whence it is derived, + The mingled virtue through the body shines, + Even as gladness through the living pupil. + +From this proceeds whate’er from light to light + Appeareth different, not from dense and rare: + This is the formal principle that produces, + +According to its goodness, dark and bright.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto III + + +That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed, + Of beauteous truth had unto me discovered, + By proving and reproving, the sweet aspect. + +And, that I might confess myself convinced + And confident, so far as was befitting, + I lifted more erect my head to speak. + +But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me + So close to it, in order to be seen, + That my confession I remembered not. + +Such as through polished and transparent glass, + Or waters crystalline and undisturbed, + But not so deep as that their bed be lost, + +Come back again the outlines of our faces + So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white + Comes not less speedily unto our eyes; + +Such saw I many faces prompt to speak, + So that I ran in error opposite + To that which kindled love ’twixt man and fountain. + +As soon as I became aware of them, + Esteeming them as mirrored semblances, + To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned, + +And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward + Direct into the light of my sweet Guide, + Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes. + +“Marvel thou not,” she said to me, “because + I smile at this thy puerile conceit, + Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot, + +But turns thee, as ’tis wont, on emptiness. + True substances are these which thou beholdest, + Here relegate for breaking of some vow. + +Therefore speak with them, listen and believe; + For the true light, which giveth peace to them, + Permits them not to turn from it their feet.” + +And I unto the shade that seemed most wishful + To speak directed me, and I began, + As one whom too great eagerness bewilders: + +“O well-created spirit, who in the rays + Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste + Which being untasted ne’er is comprehended, + +Grateful ’twill be to me, if thou content me + Both with thy name and with your destiny.” + Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes: + +“Our charity doth never shut the doors + Against a just desire, except as one + Who wills that all her court be like herself. + +I was a virgin sister in the world; + And if thy mind doth contemplate me well, + The being more fair will not conceal me from thee, + +But thou shalt recognise I am Piccarda, + Who, stationed here among these other blessed, + Myself am blessed in the slowest sphere. + +All our affections, that alone inflamed + Are in the pleasure of the Holy Ghost, + Rejoice at being of his order formed; + +And this allotment, which appears so low, + Therefore is given us, because our vows + Have been neglected and in some part void.” + +Whence I to her: “In your miraculous aspects + There shines I know not what of the divine, + Which doth transform you from our first conceptions. + +Therefore I was not swift in my remembrance; + But what thou tellest me now aids me so, + That the refiguring is easier to me. + +But tell me, ye who in this place are happy, + Are you desirous of a higher place, + To see more or to make yourselves more friends?” + +First with those other shades she smiled a little; + Thereafter answered me so full of gladness, + She seemed to burn in the first fire of love: + +“Brother, our will is quieted by virtue + Of charity, that makes us wish alone + For what we have, nor gives us thirst for more. + +If to be more exalted we aspired, + Discordant would our aspirations be + Unto the will of Him who here secludes us; + +Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles, + If being in charity is needful here, + And if thou lookest well into its nature; + +Nay, ’tis essential to this blest existence + To keep itself within the will divine, + Whereby our very wishes are made one; + +So that, as we are station above station + Throughout this realm, to all the realm ’tis pleasing, + As to the King, who makes his will our will. + +And his will is our peace; this is the sea + To which is moving onward whatsoever + It doth create, and all that nature makes.” + +Then it was clear to me how everywhere + In heaven is Paradise, although the grace + Of good supreme there rain not in one measure. + +But as it comes to pass, if one food sates, + And for another still remains the longing, + We ask for this, and that decline with thanks, + +E’en thus did I; with gesture and with word, + To learn from her what was the web wherein + She did not ply the shuttle to the end. + +“A perfect life and merit high in-heaven + A lady o’er us,” said she, “by whose rule + Down in your world they vest and veil themselves, + +That until death they may both watch and sleep + Beside that Spouse who every vow accepts + Which charity conformeth to his pleasure. + +To follow her, in girlhood from the world + I fled, and in her habit shut myself, + And pledged me to the pathway of her sect. + +Then men accustomed unto evil more + Than unto good, from the sweet cloister tore me; + God knows what afterward my life became. + +This other splendour, which to thee reveals + Itself on my right side, and is enkindled + With all the illumination of our sphere, + +What of myself I say applies to her; + A nun was she, and likewise from her head + Was ta’en the shadow of the sacred wimple. + +But when she too was to the world returned + Against her wishes and against good usage, + Of the heart’s veil she never was divested. + +Of great Costanza this is the effulgence, + Who from the second wind of Suabia + Brought forth the third and latest puissance.” + +Thus unto me she spake, and then began + “Ave Maria” singing, and in singing + Vanished, as through deep water something heavy. + +My sight, that followed her as long a time + As it was possible, when it had lost her + Turned round unto the mark of more desire, + +And wholly unto Beatrice reverted; + But she such lightnings flashed into mine eyes, + That at the first my sight endured it not; + +And this in questioning more backward made me. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto IV + + +Between two viands, equally removed + And tempting, a free man would die of hunger + Ere either he could bring unto his teeth. + +So would a lamb between the ravenings + Of two fierce wolves stand fearing both alike; + And so would stand a dog between two does. + +Hence, if I held my peace, myself I blame not, + Impelled in equal measure by my doubts, + Since it must be so, nor do I commend. + +I held my peace; but my desire was painted + Upon my face, and questioning with that + More fervent far than by articulate speech. + +Beatrice did as Daniel had done + Relieving Nebuchadnezzar from the wrath + Which rendered him unjustly merciless, + +And said: “Well see I how attracteth thee + One and the other wish, so that thy care + Binds itself so that forth it does not breathe. + +Thou arguest, if good will be permanent, + The violence of others, for what reason + Doth it decrease the measure of my merit? + +Again for doubting furnish thee occasion + Souls seeming to return unto the stars, + According to the sentiment of Plato. + +These are the questions which upon thy wish + Are thrusting equally; and therefore first + Will I treat that which hath the most of gall. + +He of the Seraphim most absorbed in God, + Moses, and Samuel, and whichever John + Thou mayst select, I say, and even Mary, + +Have not in any other heaven their seats, + Than have those spirits that just appeared to thee, + Nor of existence more or fewer years; + +But all make beautiful the primal circle, + And have sweet life in different degrees, + By feeling more or less the eternal breath. + +They showed themselves here, not because allotted + This sphere has been to them, but to give sign + Of the celestial which is least exalted. + +To speak thus is adapted to your mind, + Since only through the sense it apprehendeth + What then it worthy makes of intellect. + +On this account the Scripture condescends + Unto your faculties, and feet and hands + To God attributes, and means something else; + +And Holy Church under an aspect human + Gabriel and Michael represent to you, + And him who made Tobias whole again. + +That which Timaeus argues of the soul + Doth not resemble that which here is seen, + Because it seems that as he speaks he thinks. + +He says the soul unto its star returns, + Believing it to have been severed thence + Whenever nature gave it as a form. + +Perhaps his doctrine is of other guise + Than the words sound, and possibly may be + With meaning that is not to be derided. + +If he doth mean that to these wheels return + The honour of their influence and the blame, + Perhaps his bow doth hit upon some truth. + +This principle ill understood once warped + The whole world nearly, till it went astray + Invoking Jove and Mercury and Mars. + +The other doubt which doth disquiet thee + Less venom has, for its malevolence + Could never lead thee otherwhere from me. + +That as unjust our justice should appear + In eyes of mortals, is an argument + Of faith, and not of sin heretical. + +But still, that your perception may be able + To thoroughly penetrate this verity, + As thou desirest, I will satisfy thee. + +If it be violence when he who suffers + Co-operates not with him who uses force, + These souls were not on that account excused; + +For will is never quenched unless it will, + But operates as nature doth in fire + If violence a thousand times distort it. + +Hence, if it yieldeth more or less, it seconds + The force; and these have done so, having power + Of turning back unto the holy place. + +If their will had been perfect, like to that + Which Lawrence fast upon his gridiron held, + And Mutius made severe to his own hand, + +It would have urged them back along the road + Whence they were dragged, as soon as they were free; + But such a solid will is all too rare. + +And by these words, if thou hast gathered them + As thou shouldst do, the argument is refuted + That would have still annoyed thee many times. + +But now another passage runs across + Before thine eyes, and such that by thyself + Thou couldst not thread it ere thou wouldst be weary. + +I have for certain put into thy mind + That soul beatified could never lie, + For it is near the primal Truth, + +And then thou from Piccarda might’st have heard + Costanza kept affection for the veil, + So that she seemeth here to contradict me. + +Many times, brother, has it come to pass, + That, to escape from peril, with reluctance + That has been done it was not right to do, + +E’en as Alcmaeon (who, being by his father + Thereto entreated, his own mother slew) + Not to lose pity pitiless became. + +At this point I desire thee to remember + That force with will commingles, and they cause + That the offences cannot be excused. + +Will absolute consenteth not to evil; + But in so far consenteth as it fears, + If it refrain, to fall into more harm. + +Hence when Piccarda uses this expression, + She meaneth the will absolute, and I + The other, so that both of us speak truth.” + +Such was the flowing of the holy river + That issued from the fount whence springs all truth; + This put to rest my wishes one and all. + +“O love of the first lover, O divine,” + Said I forthwith, “whose speech inundates me + And warms me so, it more and more revives me, + +My own affection is not so profound + As to suffice in rendering grace for grace; + Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond. + +Well I perceive that never sated is + Our intellect unless the Truth illume it, + Beyond which nothing true expands itself. + +It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair, + When it attains it; and it can attain it; + If not, then each desire would frustrate be. + +Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot, + Doubt at the foot of truth; and this is nature, + Which to the top from height to height impels us. + +This doth invite me, this assurance give me + With reverence, Lady, to inquire of you + Another truth, which is obscure to me. + +I wish to know if man can satisfy you + For broken vows with other good deeds, so + That in your balance they will not be light.” + +Beatrice gazed upon me with her eyes + Full of the sparks of love, and so divine, + That, overcome my power, I turned my back + +And almost lost myself with eyes downcast. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto V + + +“If in the heat of love I flame upon thee + Beyond the measure that on earth is seen, + So that the valour of thine eyes I vanquish, + +Marvel thou not thereat; for this proceeds + From perfect sight, which as it apprehends + To the good apprehended moves its feet. + +Well I perceive how is already shining + Into thine intellect the eternal light, + That only seen enkindles always love; + +And if some other thing your love seduce, + ’Tis nothing but a vestige of the same, + Ill understood, which there is shining through. + +Thou fain wouldst know if with another service + For broken vow can such return be made + As to secure the soul from further claim.” + +This Canto thus did Beatrice begin; + And, as a man who breaks not off his speech, + Continued thus her holy argument: + +“The greatest gift that in his largess God + Creating made, and unto his own goodness + Nearest conformed, and that which he doth prize + +Most highly, is the freedom of the will, + Wherewith the creatures of intelligence + Both all and only were and are endowed. + +Now wilt thou see, if thence thou reasonest, + The high worth of a vow, if it he made + So that when thou consentest God consents: + +For, closing between God and man the compact, + A sacrifice is of this treasure made, + Such as I say, and made by its own act. + +What can be rendered then as compensation? + Think’st thou to make good use of what thou’st offered, + With gains ill gotten thou wouldst do good deed. + +Now art thou certain of the greater point; + But because Holy Church in this dispenses, + Which seems against the truth which I have shown thee, + +Behoves thee still to sit awhile at table, + Because the solid food which thou hast taken + Requireth further aid for thy digestion. + +Open thy mind to that which I reveal, + And fix it there within; for ’tis not knowledge, + The having heard without retaining it. + +In the essence of this sacrifice two things + Convene together; and the one is that + Of which ’tis made, the other is the agreement. + +This last for evermore is cancelled not + Unless complied with, and concerning this + With such precision has above been spoken. + +Therefore it was enjoined upon the Hebrews + To offer still, though sometimes what was offered + Might be commuted, as thou ought’st to know. + +The other, which is known to thee as matter, + May well indeed be such that one errs not + If it for other matter be exchanged. + +But let none shift the burden on his shoulder + At his arbitrament, without the turning + Both of the white and of the yellow key; + +And every permutation deem as foolish, + If in the substitute the thing relinquished, + As the four is in six, be not contained. + +Therefore whatever thing has so great weight + In value that it drags down every balance, + Cannot be satisfied with other spending. + +Let mortals never take a vow in jest; + Be faithful and not blind in doing that, + As Jephthah was in his first offering, + +Whom more beseemed to say, ‘I have done wrong, + Than to do worse by keeping; and as foolish + Thou the great leader of the Greeks wilt find, + +Whence wept Iphigenia her fair face, + And made for her both wise and simple weep, + Who heard such kind of worship spoken of.’ + +Christians, be ye more serious in your movements; + Be ye not like a feather at each wind, + And think not every water washes you. + +Ye have the Old and the New Testament, + And the Pastor of the Church who guideth you + Let this suffice you unto your salvation. + +If evil appetite cry aught else to you, + Be ye as men, and not as silly sheep, + So that the Jew among you may not mock you. + +Be ye not as the lamb that doth abandon + Its mother’s milk, and frolicsome and simple + Combats at its own pleasure with itself.” + +Thus Beatrice to me even as I write it; + Then all desireful turned herself again + To that part where the world is most alive. + +Her silence and her change of countenance + Silence imposed upon my eager mind, + That had already in advance new questions; + +And as an arrow that upon the mark + Strikes ere the bowstring quiet hath become, + So did we speed into the second realm. + +My Lady there so joyful I beheld, + As into the brightness of that heaven she entered, + More luminous thereat the planet grew; + +And if the star itself was changed and smiled, + What became I, who by my nature am + Exceeding mutable in every guise! + +As, in a fish-pond which is pure and tranquil, + The fishes draw to that which from without + Comes in such fashion that their food they deem it; + +So I beheld more than a thousand splendours + Drawing towards us, and in each was heard: + “Lo, this is she who shall increase our love.” + +And as each one was coming unto us, + Full of beatitude the shade was seen, + By the effulgence clear that issued from it. + +Think, Reader, if what here is just beginning + No farther should proceed, how thou wouldst have + An agonizing need of knowing more; + +And of thyself thou’lt see how I from these + Was in desire of hearing their conditions, + As they unto mine eyes were manifest. + +“O thou well-born, unto whom Grace concedes + To see the thrones of the eternal triumph, + Or ever yet the warfare be abandoned + +With light that through the whole of heaven is spread + Kindled are we, and hence if thou desirest + To know of us, at thine own pleasure sate thee.” + +Thus by some one among those holy spirits + Was spoken, and by Beatrice: “Speak, speak + Securely, and believe them even as Gods.” + +“Well I perceive how thou dost nest thyself + In thine own light, and drawest it from thine eyes, + Because they coruscate when thou dost smile, + +But know not who thou art, nor why thou hast, + Spirit august, thy station in the sphere + That veils itself to men in alien rays.” + +This said I in direction of the light + Which first had spoken to me; whence it became + By far more lucent than it was before. + +Even as the sun, that doth conceal himself + By too much light, when heat has worn away + The tempering influence of the vapours dense, + +By greater rapture thus concealed itself + In its own radiance the figure saintly, + And thus close, close enfolded answered me + +In fashion as the following Canto sings. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto VI + + +“After that Constantine the eagle turned + Against the course of heaven, which it had followed + Behind the ancient who Lavinia took, + +Two hundred years and more the bird of God + In the extreme of Europe held itself, + Near to the mountains whence it issued first; + +And under shadow of the sacred plumes + It governed there the world from hand to hand, + And, changing thus, upon mine own alighted. + +Caesar I was, and am Justinian, + Who, by the will of primal Love I feel, + Took from the laws the useless and redundant; + +And ere unto the work I was attent, + One nature to exist in Christ, not more, + Believed, and with such faith was I contented. + +But blessed Agapetus, he who was + The supreme pastor, to the faith sincere + Pointed me out the way by words of his. + +Him I believed, and what was his assertion + I now see clearly, even as thou seest + Each contradiction to be false and true. + +As soon as with the Church I moved my feet, + God in his grace it pleased with this high task + To inspire me, and I gave me wholly to it, + +And to my Belisarius I commended + The arms, to which was heaven’s right hand so joined + It was a signal that I should repose. + +Now here to the first question terminates + My answer; but the character thereof + Constrains me to continue with a sequel, + +In order that thou see with how great reason + Men move against the standard sacrosanct, + Both who appropriate and who oppose it. + +Behold how great a power has made it worthy + Of reverence, beginning from the hour + When Pallas died to give it sovereignty. + +Thou knowest it made in Alba its abode + Three hundred years and upward, till at last + The three to three fought for it yet again. + +Thou knowest what it achieved from Sabine wrong + Down to Lucretia’s sorrow, in seven kings + O’ercoming round about the neighboring nations; + +Thou knowest what it achieved, borne by the Romans + Illustrious against Brennus, against Pyrrhus, + Against the other princes and confederates. + +Torquatus thence and Quinctius, who from locks + Unkempt was named, Decii and Fabii, + Received the fame I willingly embalm; + +It struck to earth the pride of the Arabians, + Who, following Hannibal, had passed across + The Alpine ridges, Po, from which thou glidest; + +Beneath it triumphed while they yet were young + Pompey and Scipio, and to the hill + Beneath which thou wast born it bitter seemed; + +Then, near unto the time when heaven had willed + To bring the whole world to its mood serene, + Did Caesar by the will of Rome assume it. + +What it achieved from Var unto the Rhine, + Isere beheld and Saone, beheld the Seine, + And every valley whence the Rhone is filled; + +What it achieved when it had left Ravenna, + And leaped the Rubicon, was such a flight + That neither tongue nor pen could follow it. + +Round towards Spain it wheeled its legions; then + Towards Durazzo, and Pharsalia smote + That to the calid Nile was felt the pain. + +Antandros and the Simois, whence it started, + It saw again, and there where Hector lies, + And ill for Ptolemy then roused itself. + +From thence it came like lightning upon Juba; + Then wheeled itself again into your West, + Where the Pompeian clarion it heard. + +From what it wrought with the next standard-bearer + Brutus and Cassius howl in Hell together, + And Modena and Perugia dolent were; + +Still doth the mournful Cleopatra weep + Because thereof, who, fleeing from before it, + Took from the adder sudden and black death. + +With him it ran even to the Red Sea shore; + With him it placed the world in so great peace, + That unto Janus was his temple closed. + +But what the standard that has made me speak + Achieved before, and after should achieve + Throughout the mortal realm that lies beneath it, + +Becometh in appearance mean and dim, + If in the hand of the third Caesar seen + With eye unclouded and affection pure, + +Because the living Justice that inspires me + Granted it, in the hand of him I speak of, + The glory of doing vengeance for its wrath. + +Now here attend to what I answer thee; + Later it ran with Titus to do vengeance + Upon the vengeance of the ancient sin. + +And when the tooth of Lombardy had bitten + The Holy Church, then underneath its wings + Did Charlemagne victorious succor her. + +Now hast thou power to judge of such as those + Whom I accused above, and of their crimes, + Which are the cause of all your miseries. + +To the public standard one the yellow lilies + Opposes, the other claims it for a party, + So that ’tis hard to see which sins the most. + +Let, let the Ghibellines ply their handicraft + Beneath some other standard; for this ever + Ill follows he who it and justice parts. + +And let not this new Charles e’er strike it down, + He and his Guelfs, but let him fear the talons + That from a nobler lion stripped the fell. + +Already oftentimes the sons have wept + The father’s crime; and let him not believe + That God will change His scutcheon for the lilies. + +This little planet doth adorn itself + With the good spirits that have active been, + That fame and honour might come after them; + +And whensoever the desires mount thither, + Thus deviating, must perforce the rays + Of the true love less vividly mount upward. + +But in commensuration of our wages + With our desert is portion of our joy, + Because we see them neither less nor greater. + +Herein doth living Justice sweeten so + Affection in us, that for evermore + It cannot warp to any iniquity. + +Voices diverse make up sweet melodies; + So in this life of ours the seats diverse + Render sweet harmony among these spheres; + +And in the compass of this present pearl + Shineth the sheen of Romeo, of whom + The grand and beauteous work was ill rewarded. + +But the Provencals who against him wrought, + They have not laughed, and therefore ill goes he + Who makes his hurt of the good deeds of others. + +Four daughters, and each one of them a queen, + Had Raymond Berenger, and this for him + Did Romeo, a poor man and a pilgrim; + +And then malicious words incited him + To summon to a reckoning this just man, + Who rendered to him seven and five for ten. + +Then he departed poor and stricken in years, + And if the world could know the heart he had, + In begging bit by bit his livelihood, + +Though much it laud him, it would laud him more.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto VII + + +“Osanna sanctus Deus Sabaoth, + Superillustrans claritate tua + Felices ignes horum malahoth!” + +In this wise, to his melody returning, + This substance, upon which a double light + Doubles itself, was seen by me to sing, + +And to their dance this and the others moved, + And in the manner of swift-hurrying sparks + Veiled themselves from me with a sudden distance. + +Doubting was I, and saying, “Tell her, tell her,” + Within me, “tell her,” saying, “tell my Lady,” + Who slakes my thirst with her sweet effluences; + +And yet that reverence which doth lord it over + The whole of me only by B and ICE, + Bowed me again like unto one who drowses. + +Short while did Beatrice endure me thus; + And she began, lighting me with a smile + Such as would make one happy in the fire: + +“According to infallible advisement, + After what manner a just vengeance justly + Could be avenged has put thee upon thinking, + +But I will speedily thy mind unloose; + And do thou listen, for these words of mine + Of a great doctrine will a present make thee. + +By not enduring on the power that wills + Curb for his good, that man who ne’er was born, + Damning himself damned all his progeny; + +Whereby the human species down below + Lay sick for many centuries in great error, + Till to descend it pleased the Word of God + +To where the nature, which from its own Maker + Estranged itself, he joined to him in person + By the sole act of his eternal love. + +Now unto what is said direct thy sight; + This nature when united to its Maker, + Such as created, was sincere and good; + +But by itself alone was banished forth + From Paradise, because it turned aside + Out of the way of truth and of its life. + +Therefore the penalty the cross held out, + If measured by the nature thus assumed, + None ever yet with so great justice stung, + +And none was ever of so great injustice, + Considering who the Person was that suffered, + Within whom such a nature was contracted. + +From one act therefore issued things diverse; + To God and to the Jews one death was pleasing; + Earth trembled at it and the Heaven was opened. + +It should no longer now seem difficult + To thee, when it is said that a just vengeance + By a just court was afterward avenged. + +But now do I behold thy mind entangled + From thought to thought within a knot, from which + With great desire it waits to free itself. + +Thou sayest, ‘Well discern I what I hear; + But it is hidden from me why God willed + For our redemption only this one mode.’ + +Buried remaineth, brother, this decree + Unto the eyes of every one whose nature + Is in the flame of love not yet adult. + +Verily, inasmuch as at this mark + One gazes long and little is discerned, + Wherefore this mode was worthiest will I say. + +Goodness Divine, which from itself doth spurn + All envy, burning in itself so sparkles + That the eternal beauties it unfolds. + +Whate’er from this immediately distils + Has afterwards no end, for ne’er removed + Is its impression when it sets its seal. + +Whate’er from this immediately rains down + Is wholly free, because it is not subject + Unto the influences of novel things. + +The more conformed thereto, the more it pleases; + For the blest ardour that irradiates all things + In that most like itself is most vivacious. + +With all of these things has advantaged been + The human creature; and if one be wanting, + From his nobility he needs must fall. + +’Tis sin alone which doth disfranchise him, + And render him unlike the Good Supreme, + So that he little with its light is blanched, + +And to his dignity no more returns, + Unless he fill up where transgression empties + With righteous pains for criminal delights. + +Your nature when it sinned so utterly + In its own seed, out of these dignities + Even as out of Paradise was driven, + +Nor could itself recover, if thou notest + With nicest subtilty, by any way, + Except by passing one of these two fords: + +Either that God through clemency alone + Had pardon granted, or that man himself + Had satisfaction for his folly made. + +Fix now thine eye deep into the abyss + Of the eternal counsel, to my speech + As far as may be fastened steadfastly! + +Man in his limitations had not power + To satisfy, not having power to sink + In his humility obeying then, + +Far as he disobeying thought to rise; + And for this reason man has been from power + Of satisfying by himself excluded. + +Therefore it God behoved in his own ways + Man to restore unto his perfect life, + I say in one, or else in both of them. + +But since the action of the doer is + So much more grateful, as it more presents + The goodness of the heart from which it issues, + +Goodness Divine, that doth imprint the world, + Has been contented to proceed by each + And all its ways to lift you up again; + +Nor ’twixt the first day and the final night + Such high and such magnificent proceeding + By one or by the other was or shall be; + +For God more bounteous was himself to give + To make man able to uplift himself, + Than if he only of himself had pardoned; + +And all the other modes were insufficient + For justice, were it not the Son of God + Himself had humbled to become incarnate. + +Now, to fill fully each desire of thine, + Return I to elucidate one place, + In order that thou there mayst see as I do. + +Thou sayst: ‘I see the air, I see the fire, + The water, and the earth, and all their mixtures + Come to corruption, and short while endure; + +And these things notwithstanding were created;’ + Therefore if that which I have said were true, + They should have been secure against corruption. + +The Angels, brother, and the land sincere + In which thou art, created may be called + Just as they are in their entire existence; + +But all the elements which thou hast named, + And all those things which out of them are made, + By a created virtue are informed. + +Created was the matter which they have; + Created was the informing influence + Within these stars that round about them go. + +The soul of every brute and of the plants + By its potential temperament attracts + The ray and motion of the holy lights; + +But your own life immediately inspires + Supreme Beneficence, and enamours it + So with herself, it evermore desires her. + +And thou from this mayst argue furthermore + Your resurrection, if thou think again + How human flesh was fashioned at that time + +When the first parents both of them were made.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto VIII + + +The world used in its peril to believe + That the fair Cypria delirious love + Rayed out, in the third epicycle turning; + +Wherefore not only unto her paid honour + Of sacrifices and of votive cry + The ancient nations in the ancient error, + +But both Dione honoured they and Cupid, + That as her mother, this one as her son, + And said that he had sat in Dido’s lap; + +And they from her, whence I beginning take, + Took the denomination of the star + That woos the sun, now following, now in front. + +I was not ware of our ascending to it; + But of our being in it gave full faith + My Lady whom I saw more beauteous grow. + +And as within a flame a spark is seen, + And as within a voice a voice discerned, + When one is steadfast, and one comes and goes, + +Within that light beheld I other lamps + Move in a circle, speeding more and less, + Methinks in measure of their inward vision. + +From a cold cloud descended never winds, + Or visible or not, so rapidly + They would not laggard and impeded seem + +To any one who had those lights divine + Seen come towards us, leaving the gyration + Begun at first in the high Seraphim. + +And behind those that most in front appeared + Sounded “Osanna!” so that never since + To hear again was I without desire. + +Then unto us more nearly one approached, + And it alone began: “We all are ready + Unto thy pleasure, that thou joy in us. + +We turn around with the celestial Princes, + One gyre and one gyration and one thirst, + To whom thou in the world of old didst say, + +‘Ye who, intelligent, the third heaven are moving;’ + And are so full of love, to pleasure thee + A little quiet will not be less sweet.” + +After these eyes of mine themselves had offered + Unto my Lady reverently, and she + Content and certain of herself had made them, + +Back to the light they turned, which so great promise + Made of itself, and “Say, who art thou?” was + My voice, imprinted with a great affection. + +O how and how much I beheld it grow + With the new joy that superadded was + Unto its joys, as soon as I had spoken! + +Thus changed, it said to me: “The world possessed me + Short time below; and, if it had been more, + Much evil will be which would not have been. + +My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee, + Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me + Like as a creature swathed in its own silk. + +Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason; + For had I been below, I should have shown thee + Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love. + +That left-hand margin, which doth bathe itself + In Rhone, when it is mingled with the Sorgue, + Me for its lord awaited in due time, + +And that horn of Ausonia, which is towned + With Bari, with Gaeta and Catona, + Whence Tronto and Verde in the sea disgorge. + +Already flashed upon my brow the crown + Of that dominion which the Danube waters + After the German borders it abandons; + +And beautiful Trinacria, that is murky + ’Twixt Pachino and Peloro, (on the gulf + Which greatest scath from Eurus doth receive,) + +Not through Typhoeus, but through nascent sulphur, + Would have awaited her own monarchs still, + Through me from Charles descended and from Rudolph, + +If evil lordship, that exasperates ever + The subject populations, had not moved + Palermo to the outcry of ‘Death! death!’ + +And if my brother could but this foresee, + The greedy poverty of Catalonia + Straight would he flee, that it might not molest him; + +For verily ’tis needful to provide, + Through him or other, so that on his bark + Already freighted no more freight be placed. + +His nature, which from liberal covetous + Descended, such a soldiery would need + As should not care for hoarding in a chest.” + +“Because I do believe the lofty joy + Thy speech infuses into me, my Lord, + Where every good thing doth begin and end + +Thou seest as I see it, the more grateful + Is it to me; and this too hold I dear, + That gazing upon God thou dost discern it. + +Glad hast thou made me; so make clear to me, + Since speaking thou hast stirred me up to doubt, + How from sweet seed can bitter issue forth.” + +This I to him; and he to me: “If I + Can show to thee a truth, to what thou askest + Thy face thou’lt hold as thou dost hold thy back. + +The Good which all the realm thou art ascending + Turns and contents, maketh its providence + To be a power within these bodies vast; + +And not alone the natures are foreseen + Within the mind that in itself is perfect, + But they together with their preservation. + +For whatsoever thing this bow shoots forth + Falls foreordained unto an end foreseen, + Even as a shaft directed to its mark. + +If that were not, the heaven which thou dost walk + Would in such manner its effects produce, + That they no longer would be arts, but ruins. + +This cannot be, if the Intelligences + That keep these stars in motion are not maimed, + And maimed the First that has not made them perfect. + +Wilt thou this truth have clearer made to thee?” + And I: “Not so; for ’tis impossible + That nature tire, I see, in what is needful.” + +Whence he again: “Now say, would it be worse + For men on earth were they not citizens?” + “Yes,” I replied; “and here I ask no reason.” + +“And can they be so, if below they live not + Diversely unto offices diverse? + No, if your master writeth well for you.” + +So came he with deductions to this point; + Then he concluded: “Therefore it behoves + The roots of your effects to be diverse. + +Hence one is Solon born, another Xerxes, + Another Melchisedec, and another he + Who, flying through the air, his son did lose. + +Revolving Nature, which a signet is + To mortal wax, doth practise well her art, + But not one inn distinguish from another; + +Thence happens it that Esau differeth + In seed from Jacob; and Quirinus comes + From sire so vile that he is given to Mars. + +A generated nature its own way + Would always make like its progenitors, + If Providence divine were not triumphant. + +Now that which was behind thee is before thee; + But that thou know that I with thee am pleased, + With a corollary will I mantle thee. + +Evermore nature, if it fortune find + Discordant to it, like each other seed + Out of its region, maketh evil thrift; + +And if the world below would fix its mind + On the foundation which is laid by nature, + Pursuing that, ’twould have the people good. + +But you unto religion wrench aside + Him who was born to gird him with the sword, + And make a king of him who is for sermons; + +Therefore your footsteps wander from the road.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto IX + + +Beautiful Clemence, after that thy Charles + Had me enlightened, he narrated to me + The treacheries his seed should undergo; + +But said: “Be still and let the years roll round;” + So I can only say, that lamentation + Legitimate shall follow on your wrongs. + +And of that holy light the life already + Had to the Sun which fills it turned again, + As to that good which for each thing sufficeth. + +Ah, souls deceived, and creatures impious, + Who from such good do turn away your hearts, + Directing upon vanity your foreheads! + +And now, behold, another of those splendours + Approached me, and its will to pleasure me + It signified by brightening outwardly. + +The eyes of Beatrice, that fastened were + Upon me, as before, of dear assent + To my desire assurance gave to me. + +“Ah, bring swift compensation to my wish, + Thou blessed spirit,” I said, “and give me proof + That what I think in thee I can reflect!” + +Whereat the light, that still was new to me, + Out of its depths, whence it before was singing, + As one delighted to do good, continued: + +“Within that region of the land depraved + Of Italy, that lies between Rialto + And fountain-heads of Brenta and of Piava, + +Rises a hill, and mounts not very high, + Wherefrom descended formerly a torch + That made upon that region great assault. + +Out of one root were born both I and it; + Cunizza was I called, and here I shine + Because the splendour of this star o’ercame me. + +But gladly to myself the cause I pardon + Of my allotment, and it does not grieve me; + Which would perhaps seem strong unto your vulgar. + +Of this so luculent and precious jewel, + Which of our heaven is nearest unto me, + Great fame remained; and ere it die away + +This hundredth year shall yet quintupled be. + See if man ought to make him excellent, + So that another life the first may leave! + +And thus thinks not the present multitude + Shut in by Adige and Tagliamento, + Nor yet for being scourged is penitent. + +But soon ’twill be that Padua in the marsh + Will change the water that Vicenza bathes, + Because the folk are stubborn against duty; + +And where the Sile and Cagnano join + One lordeth it, and goes with lofty head, + For catching whom e’en now the net is making. + +Feltro moreover of her impious pastor + Shall weep the crime, which shall so monstrous be + That for the like none ever entered Malta. + +Ample exceedingly would be the vat + That of the Ferrarese could hold the blood, + And weary who should weigh it ounce by ounce, + +Of which this courteous priest shall make a gift + To show himself a partisan; and such gifts + Will to the living of the land conform. + +Above us there are mirrors, Thrones you call them, + From which shines out on us God Judicant, + So that this utterance seems good to us.” + +Here it was silent, and it had the semblance + Of being turned elsewhither, by the wheel + On which it entered as it was before. + +The other joy, already known to me, + Became a thing transplendent in my sight, + As a fine ruby smitten by the sun. + +Through joy effulgence is acquired above, + As here a smile; but down below, the shade + Outwardly darkens, as the mind is sad. + +“God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit, + Thy sight is,” said I, “so that never will + Of his can possibly from thee be hidden; + +Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens + Glad, with the singing of those holy fires + Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl, + +Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings? + Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning + If I in thee were as thou art in me.” + +“The greatest of the valleys where the water + Expands itself,” forthwith its words began, + “That sea excepted which the earth engarlands, + +Between discordant shores against the sun + Extends so far, that it meridian makes + Where it was wont before to make the horizon. + +I was a dweller on that valley’s shore + ’Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short + Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese. + +With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly + Sit Buggia and the city whence I was, + That with its blood once made the harbour hot. + +Folco that people called me unto whom + My name was known; and now with me this heaven + Imprints itself, as I did once with it; + +For more the daughter of Belus never burned, + Offending both Sichaeus and Creusa, + Than I, so long as it became my locks, + +Nor yet that Rodophean, who deluded + was by Demophoon, nor yet Alcides, + When Iole he in his heart had locked. + +Yet here is no repenting, but we smile, + Not at the fault, which comes not back to mind, + But at the power which ordered and foresaw. + +Here we behold the art that doth adorn + With such affection, and the good discover + Whereby the world above turns that below. + +But that thou wholly satisfied mayst bear + Thy wishes hence which in this sphere are born, + Still farther to proceed behoveth me. + +Thou fain wouldst know who is within this light + That here beside me thus is scintillating, + Even as a sunbeam in the limpid water. + +Then know thou, that within there is at rest + Rahab, and being to our order joined, + With her in its supremest grade ’tis sealed. + +Into this heaven, where ends the shadowy cone + Cast by your world, before all other souls + First of Christ’s triumph was she taken up. + +Full meet it was to leave her in some heaven, + Even as a palm of the high victory + Which he acquired with one palm and the other, + +Because she favoured the first glorious deed + Of Joshua upon the Holy Land, + That little stirs the memory of the Pope. + +Thy city, which an offshoot is of him + Who first upon his Maker turned his back, + And whose ambition is so sorely wept, + +Brings forth and scatters the accursed flower + Which both the sheep and lambs hath led astray + Since it has turned the shepherd to a wolf. + +For this the Evangel and the mighty Doctors + Are derelict, and only the Decretals + So studied that it shows upon their margins. + +On this are Pope and Cardinals intent; + Their meditations reach not Nazareth, + There where his pinions Gabriel unfolded; + +But Vatican and the other parts elect + Of Rome, which have a cemetery been + Unto the soldiery that followed Peter + +Shall soon be free from this adultery.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto X + + +Looking into his Son with all the Love + Which each of them eternally breathes forth, + The Primal and unutterable Power + +Whate’er before the mind or eye revolves + With so much order made, there can be none + Who this beholds without enjoying Him. + +Lift up then, Reader, to the lofty wheels + With me thy vision straight unto that part + Where the one motion on the other strikes, + +And there begin to contemplate with joy + That Master’s art, who in himself so loves it + That never doth his eye depart therefrom. + +Behold how from that point goes branching off + The oblique circle, which conveys the planets, + To satisfy the world that calls upon them; + +And if their pathway were not thus inflected, + Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain, + And almost every power below here dead. + +If from the straight line distant more or less + Were the departure, much would wanting be + Above and underneath of mundane order. + +Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, + In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, + If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary. + +I’ve set before thee; henceforth feed thyself, + For to itself diverteth all my care + That theme whereof I have been made the scribe. + +The greatest of the ministers of nature, + Who with the power of heaven the world imprints + And measures with his light the time for us, + +With that part which above is called to mind + Conjoined, along the spirals was revolving, + Where each time earlier he presents himself; + +And I was with him; but of the ascending + I was not conscious, saving as a man + Of a first thought is conscious ere it come; + +And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass + From good to better, and so suddenly + That not by time her action is expressed, + +How lucent in herself must she have been! + And what was in the sun, wherein I entered, + Apparent not by colour but by light, + +I, though I call on genius, art, and practice, + Cannot so tell that it could be imagined; + Believe one can, and let him long to see it. + +And if our fantasies too lowly are + For altitude so great, it is no marvel, + Since o’er the sun was never eye could go. + +Such in this place was the fourth family + Of the high Father, who forever sates it, + Showing how he breathes forth and how begets. + +And Beatrice began: “Give thanks, give thanks + Unto the Sun of Angels, who to this + Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!” + +Never was heart of mortal so disposed + To worship, nor to give itself to God + With all its gratitude was it so ready, + +As at those words did I myself become; + And all my love was so absorbed in Him, + That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed. + +Nor this displeased her; but she smiled at it + So that the splendour of her laughing eyes + My single mind on many things divided. + +Lights many saw I, vivid and triumphant, + Make us a centre and themselves a circle, + More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect. + +Thus girt about the daughter of Latona + We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air, + So that it holds the thread which makes her zone. + +Within the court of Heaven, whence I return, + Are many jewels found, so fair and precious + They cannot be transported from the realm; + +And of them was the singing of those lights. + Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither, + The tidings thence may from the dumb await! + +As soon as singing thus those burning suns + Had round about us whirled themselves three times, + Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles, + +Ladies they seemed, not from the dance released, + But who stop short, in silence listening + Till they have gathered the new melody. + +And within one I heard beginning: “When + The radiance of grace, by which is kindled + True love, and which thereafter grows by loving, + +Within thee multiplied is so resplendent + That it conducts thee upward by that stair, + Where without reascending none descends, + +Who should deny the wine out of his vial + Unto thy thirst, in liberty were not + Except as water which descends not seaward. + +Fain wouldst thou know with what plants is enflowered + This garland that encircles with delight + The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven. + +Of the lambs was I of the holy flock + Which Dominic conducteth by a road + Where well one fattens if he strayeth not. + +He who is nearest to me on the right + My brother and master was; and he Albertus + Is of Cologne, I Thomas of Aquinum. + +If thou of all the others wouldst be certain, + Follow behind my speaking with thy sight + Upward along the blessed garland turning. + +That next effulgence issues from the smile + Of Gratian, who assisted both the courts + In such wise that it pleased in Paradise. + +The other which near by adorns our choir + That Peter was who, e’en as the poor widow, + Offered his treasure unto Holy Church. + +The fifth light, that among us is the fairest, + Breathes forth from such a love, that all the world + Below is greedy to learn tidings of it. + +Within it is the lofty mind, where knowledge + So deep was put, that, if the true be true, + To see so much there never rose a second. + +Thou seest next the lustre of that taper, + Which in the flesh below looked most within + The angelic nature and its ministry. + +Within that other little light is smiling + The advocate of the Christian centuries, + Out of whose rhetoric Augustine was furnished. + +Now if thou trainest thy mind’s eye along + From light to light pursuant of my praise, + With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest. + +By seeing every good therein exults + The sainted soul, which the fallacious world + Makes manifest to him who listeneth well; + +The body whence ’twas hunted forth is lying + Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom + And banishment it came unto this peace. + +See farther onward flame the burning breath + Of Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard + Who was in contemplation more than man. + +This, whence to me returneth thy regard, + The light is of a spirit unto whom + In his grave meditations death seemed slow. + +It is the light eternal of Sigier, + Who, reading lectures in the Street of Straw, + Did syllogize invidious verities.” + +Then, as a horologe that calleth us + What time the Bride of God is rising up + With matins to her Spouse that he may love her, + +Wherein one part the other draws and urges, + Ting! ting! resounding with so sweet a note, + That swells with love the spirit well disposed, + +Thus I beheld the glorious wheel move round, + And render voice to voice, in modulation + And sweetness that can not be comprehended, + +Excepting there where joy is made eternal. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XI + + +O Thou insensate care of mortal men, + How inconclusive are the syllogisms + That make thee beat thy wings in downward flight! + +One after laws and one to aphorisms + Was going, and one following the priesthood, + And one to reign by force or sophistry, + +And one in theft, and one in state affairs, + One in the pleasures of the flesh involved + Wearied himself, one gave himself to ease; + +When I, from all these things emancipate, + With Beatrice above there in the Heavens + With such exceeding glory was received! + +When each one had returned unto that point + Within the circle where it was before, + It stood as in a candlestick a candle; + +And from within the effulgence which at first + Had spoken unto me, I heard begin + Smiling while it more luminous became: + +“Even as I am kindled in its ray, + So, looking into the Eternal Light, + The occasion of thy thoughts I apprehend. + +Thou doubtest, and wouldst have me to resift + In language so extended and so open + My speech, that to thy sense it may be plain, + +Where just before I said, ‘where well one fattens,’ + And where I said, ‘there never rose a second;’ + And here ’tis needful we distinguish well. + +The Providence, which governeth the world + With counsel, wherein all created vision + Is vanquished ere it reach unto the bottom, + +(So that towards her own Beloved might go + The bride of Him who, uttering a loud cry, + Espoused her with his consecrated blood, + +Self-confident and unto Him more faithful,) + Two Princes did ordain in her behoof, + Which on this side and that might be her guide. + +The one was all seraphical in ardour; + The other by his wisdom upon earth + A splendour was of light cherubical. + +One will I speak of, for of both is spoken + In praising one, whichever may be taken, + Because unto one end their labours were. + +Between Tupino and the stream that falls + Down from the hill elect of blessed Ubald, + A fertile slope of lofty mountain hangs, + +From which Perugia feels the cold and heat + Through Porta Sole, and behind it weep + Gualdo and Nocera their grievous yoke. + +From out that slope, there where it breaketh most + Its steepness, rose upon the world a sun + As this one does sometimes from out the Ganges; + +Therefore let him who speaketh of that place, + Say not Ascesi, for he would say little, + But Orient, if he properly would speak. + +He was not yet far distant from his rising + Before he had begun to make the earth + Some comfort from his mighty virtue feel. + +For he in youth his father’s wrath incurred + For certain Dame, to whom, as unto death, + The gate of pleasure no one doth unlock; + +And was before his spiritual court + ‘Et coram patre’ unto her united; + Then day by day more fervently he loved her. + +She, reft of her first husband, scorned, obscure, + One thousand and one hundred years and more, + Waited without a suitor till he came. + +Naught it availed to hear, that with Amyclas + Found her unmoved at sounding of his voice + He who struck terror into all the world; + +Naught it availed being constant and undaunted, + So that, when Mary still remained below, + She mounted up with Christ upon the cross. + +But that too darkly I may not proceed, + Francis and Poverty for these two lovers + Take thou henceforward in my speech diffuse. + +Their concord and their joyous semblances, + The love, the wonder, and the sweet regard, + They made to be the cause of holy thoughts; + +So much so that the venerable Bernard + First bared his feet, and after so great peace + Ran, and, in running, thought himself too slow. + +O wealth unknown! O veritable good! + Giles bares his feet, and bares his feet Sylvester + Behind the bridegroom, so doth please the bride! + +Then goes his way that father and that master, + He and his Lady and that family + Which now was girding on the humble cord; + +Nor cowardice of heart weighed down his brow + At being son of Peter Bernardone, + Nor for appearing marvellously scorned; + +But regally his hard determination + To Innocent he opened, and from him + Received the primal seal upon his Order. + +After the people mendicant increased + Behind this man, whose admirable life + Better in glory of the heavens were sung, + +Incoronated with a second crown + Was through Honorius by the Eternal Spirit + The holy purpose of this Archimandrite. + +And when he had, through thirst of martyrdom, + In the proud presence of the Sultan preached + Christ and the others who came after him, + +And, finding for conversion too unripe + The folk, and not to tarry there in vain, + Returned to fruit of the Italic grass, + +On the rude rock ’twixt Tiber and the Arno + From Christ did he receive the final seal, + Which during two whole years his members bore. + +When He, who chose him unto so much good, + Was pleased to draw him up to the reward + That he had merited by being lowly, + +Unto his friars, as to the rightful heirs, + His most dear Lady did he recommend, + And bade that they should love her faithfully; + +And from her bosom the illustrious soul + Wished to depart, returning to its realm, + And for its body wished no other bier. + +Think now what man was he, who was a fit + Companion over the high seas to keep + The bark of Peter to its proper bearings. + +And this man was our Patriarch; hence whoever + Doth follow him as he commands can see + That he is laden with good merchandise. + +But for new pasturage his flock has grown + So greedy, that it is impossible + They be not scattered over fields diverse; + +And in proportion as his sheep remote + And vagabond go farther off from him, + More void of milk return they to the fold. + +Verily some there are that fear a hurt, + And keep close to the shepherd; but so few, + That little cloth doth furnish forth their hoods. + +Now if my utterance be not indistinct, + If thine own hearing hath attentive been, + If thou recall to mind what I have said, + +In part contented shall thy wishes be; + For thou shalt see the plant that’s chipped away, + And the rebuke that lieth in the words, + +‘Where well one fattens, if he strayeth not.’” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XII + + +Soon as the blessed flame had taken up + The final word to give it utterance, + Began the holy millstone to revolve, + +And in its gyre had not turned wholly round, + Before another in a ring enclosed it, + And motion joined to motion, song to song; + +Song that as greatly doth transcend our Muses, + Our Sirens, in those dulcet clarions, + As primal splendour that which is reflected. + +And as are spanned athwart a tender cloud + Two rainbows parallel and like in colour, + When Juno to her handmaid gives command, + +(The one without born of the one within, + Like to the speaking of that vagrant one + Whom love consumed as doth the sun the vapours,) + +And make the people here, through covenant + God set with Noah, presageful of the world + That shall no more be covered with a flood, + +In such wise of those sempiternal roses + The garlands twain encompassed us about, + And thus the outer to the inner answered. + +After the dance, and other grand rejoicings, + Both of the singing, and the flaming forth + Effulgence with effulgence blithe and tender, + +Together, at once, with one accord had stopped, + (Even as the eyes, that, as volition moves them, + Must needs together shut and lift themselves,) + +Out of the heart of one of the new lights + There came a voice, that needle to the star + Made me appear in turning thitherward. + +And it began: “The love that makes me fair + Draws me to speak about the other leader, + By whom so well is spoken here of mine. + +’Tis right, where one is, to bring in the other, + That, as they were united in their warfare, + Together likewise may their glory shine. + +The soldiery of Christ, which it had cost + So dear to arm again, behind the standard + Moved slow and doubtful and in numbers few, + +When the Emperor who reigneth evermore + Provided for the host that was in peril, + Through grace alone and not that it was worthy; + +And, as was said, he to his Bride brought succour + With champions twain, at whose deed, at whose word + The straggling people were together drawn. + +Within that region where the sweet west wind + Rises to open the new leaves, wherewith + Europe is seen to clothe herself afresh, + +Not far off from the beating of the waves, + Behind which in his long career the sun + Sometimes conceals himself from every man, + +Is situate the fortunate Calahorra, + Under protection of the mighty shield + In which the Lion subject is and sovereign. + +Therein was born the amorous paramour + Of Christian Faith, the athlete consecrate, + Kind to his own and cruel to his foes; + +And when it was created was his mind + Replete with such a living energy, + That in his mother her it made prophetic. + +As soon as the espousals were complete + Between him and the Faith at holy font, + Where they with mutual safety dowered each other, + +The woman, who for him had given assent, + Saw in a dream the admirable fruit + That issue would from him and from his heirs; + +And that he might be construed as he was, + A spirit from this place went forth to name him + With His possessive whose he wholly was. + +Dominic was he called; and him I speak of + Even as of the husbandman whom Christ + Elected to his garden to assist him. + +Envoy and servant sooth he seemed of Christ, + For the first love made manifest in him + Was the first counsel that was given by Christ. + +Silent and wakeful many a time was he + Discovered by his nurse upon the ground, + As if he would have said, ‘For this I came.’ + +O thou his father, Felix verily! + O thou his mother, verily Joanna, + If this, interpreted, means as is said! + +Not for the world which people toil for now + In following Ostiense and Taddeo, + But through his longing after the true manna, + +He in short time became so great a teacher, + That he began to go about the vineyard, + Which fadeth soon, if faithless be the dresser; + +And of the See, (that once was more benignant + Unto the righteous poor, not through itself, + But him who sits there and degenerates,) + +Not to dispense or two or three for six, + Not any fortune of first vacancy, + ‘Non decimas quae sunt pauperum Dei,’ + +He asked for, but against the errant world + Permission to do battle for the seed, + Of which these four and twenty plants surround thee. + +Then with the doctrine and the will together, + With office apostolical he moved, + Like torrent which some lofty vein out-presses; + +And in among the shoots heretical + His impetus with greater fury smote, + Wherever the resistance was the greatest. + +Of him were made thereafter divers runnels, + Whereby the garden catholic is watered, + So that more living its plantations stand. + +If such the one wheel of the Biga was, + In which the Holy Church itself defended + And in the field its civic battle won, + +Truly full manifest should be to thee + The excellence of the other, unto whom + Thomas so courteous was before my coming. + +But still the orbit, which the highest part + Of its circumference made, is derelict, + So that the mould is where was once the crust. + +His family, that had straight forward moved + With feet upon his footprints, are turned round + So that they set the point upon the heel. + +And soon aware they will be of the harvest + Of this bad husbandry, when shall the tares + Complain the granary is taken from them. + +Yet say I, he who searcheth leaf by leaf + Our volume through, would still some page discover + Where he could read, ‘I am as I am wont.’ + +’Twill not be from Casal nor Acquasparta, + From whence come such unto the written word + That one avoids it, and the other narrows. + +Bonaventura of Bagnoregio’s life + Am I, who always in great offices + Postponed considerations sinister. + +Here are Illuminato and Agostino, + Who of the first barefooted beggars were + That with the cord the friends of God became. + +Hugh of Saint Victor is among them here, + And Peter Mangiador, and Peter of Spain, + Who down below in volumes twelve is shining; + +Nathan the seer, and metropolitan + Chrysostom, and Anselmus, and Donatus + Who deigned to lay his hand to the first art; + +Here is Rabanus, and beside me here + Shines the Calabrian Abbot Joachim, + He with the spirit of prophecy endowed. + +To celebrate so great a paladin + Have moved me the impassioned courtesy + And the discreet discourses of Friar Thomas, + +And with me they have moved this company.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XIII + + +Let him imagine, who would well conceive + What now I saw, and let him while I speak + Retain the image as a steadfast rock, + +The fifteen stars, that in their divers regions + The sky enliven with a light so great + That it transcends all clusters of the air; + +Let him the Wain imagine unto which + Our vault of heaven sufficeth night and day, + So that in turning of its pole it fails not; + +Let him the mouth imagine of the horn + That in the point beginneth of the axis + Round about which the primal wheel revolves,— + +To have fashioned of themselves two signs in heaven, + Like unto that which Minos’ daughter made, + The moment when she felt the frost of death; + +And one to have its rays within the other, + And both to whirl themselves in such a manner + That one should forward go, the other backward; + +And he will have some shadowing forth of that + True constellation and the double dance + That circled round the point at which I was; + +Because it is as much beyond our wont, + As swifter than the motion of the Chiana + Moveth the heaven that all the rest outspeeds. + +There sang they neither Bacchus, nor Apollo, + But in the divine nature Persons three, + And in one person the divine and human. + +The singing and the dance fulfilled their measure, + And unto us those holy lights gave need, + Growing in happiness from care to care. + +Then broke the silence of those saints concordant + The light in which the admirable life + Of God’s own mendicant was told to me, + +And said: “Now that one straw is trodden out + Now that its seed is garnered up already, + Sweet love invites me to thresh out the other. + +Into that bosom, thou believest, whence + Was drawn the rib to form the beauteous cheek + Whose taste to all the world is costing dear, + +And into that which, by the lance transfixed, + Before and since, such satisfaction made + That it weighs down the balance of all sin, + +Whate’er of light it has to human nature + Been lawful to possess was all infused + By the same power that both of them created; + +And hence at what I said above dost wonder, + When I narrated that no second had + The good which in the fifth light is enclosed. + +Now ope thine eyes to what I answer thee, + And thou shalt see thy creed and my discourse + Fit in the truth as centre in a circle. + +That which can die, and that which dieth not, + Are nothing but the splendour of the idea + Which by his love our Lord brings into being; + +Because that living Light, which from its fount + Effulgent flows, so that it disunites not + From Him nor from the Love in them intrined, + +Through its own goodness reunites its rays + In nine subsistences, as in a mirror, + Itself eternally remaining One. + +Thence it descends to the last potencies, + Downward from act to act becoming such + That only brief contingencies it makes; + +And these contingencies I hold to be + Things generated, which the heaven produces + By its own motion, with seed and without. + +Neither their wax, nor that which tempers it, + Remains immutable, and hence beneath + The ideal signet more and less shines through; + +Therefore it happens, that the selfsame tree + After its kind bears worse and better fruit, + And ye are born with characters diverse. + +If in perfection tempered were the wax, + And were the heaven in its supremest virtue, + The brilliance of the seal would all appear; + +But nature gives it evermore deficient, + In the like manner working as the artist, + Who has the skill of art and hand that trembles. + +If then the fervent Love, the Vision clear, + Of primal Virtue do dispose and seal, + Perfection absolute is there acquired. + +Thus was of old the earth created worthy + Of all and every animal perfection; + And thus the Virgin was impregnate made; + +So that thine own opinion I commend, + That human nature never yet has been, + Nor will be, what it was in those two persons. + +Now if no farther forth I should proceed, + ‘Then in what way was he without a peer?’ + Would be the first beginning of thy words. + +But, that may well appear what now appears not, + Think who he was, and what occasion moved him + To make request, when it was told him, ‘Ask.’ + +I’ve not so spoken that thou canst not see + Clearly he was a king who asked for wisdom, + That he might be sufficiently a king; + +’Twas not to know the number in which are + The motors here above, or if ‘necesse’ + With a contingent e’er ‘necesse’ make, + +‘Non si est dare primum motum esse,’ + Or if in semicircle can be made + Triangle so that it have no right angle. + +Whence, if thou notest this and what I said, + A regal prudence is that peerless seeing + In which the shaft of my intention strikes. + +And if on ‘rose’ thou turnest thy clear eyes, + Thou’lt see that it has reference alone + To kings who’re many, and the good are rare. + +With this distinction take thou what I said, + And thus it can consist with thy belief + Of the first father and of our Delight. + +And lead shall this be always to thy feet, + To make thee, like a weary man, move slowly + Both to the Yes and No thou seest not; + +For very low among the fools is he + Who affirms without distinction, or denies, + As well in one as in the other case; + +Because it happens that full often bends + Current opinion in the false direction, + And then the feelings bind the intellect. + +Far more than uselessly he leaves the shore, + (Since he returneth not the same he went,) + Who fishes for the truth, and has no skill; + +And in the world proofs manifest thereof + Parmenides, Melissus, Brissus are, + And many who went on and knew not whither; + +Thus did Sabellius, Arius, and those fools + Who have been even as swords unto the Scriptures + In rendering distorted their straight faces. + +Nor yet shall people be too confident + In judging, even as he is who doth count + The corn in field or ever it be ripe. + +For I have seen all winter long the thorn + First show itself intractable and fierce, + And after bear the rose upon its top; + +And I have seen a ship direct and swift + Run o’er the sea throughout its course entire, + To perish at the harbour’s mouth at last. + +Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think, + Seeing one steal, another offering make, + To see them in the arbitrament divine; + +For one may rise, and fall the other may.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XIV + + +From centre unto rim, from rim to centre, + In a round vase the water moves itself, + As from without ’tis struck or from within. + +Into my mind upon a sudden dropped + What I am saying, at the moment when + Silent became the glorious life of Thomas, + +Because of the resemblance that was born + Of his discourse and that of Beatrice, + Whom, after him, it pleased thus to begin: + +“This man has need (and does not tell you so, + Nor with the voice, nor even in his thought) + Of going to the root of one truth more. + +Declare unto him if the light wherewith + Blossoms your substance shall remain with you + Eternally the same that it is now; + +And if it do remain, say in what manner, + After ye are again made visible, + It can be that it injure not your sight.” + +As by a greater gladness urged and drawn + They who are dancing in a ring sometimes + Uplift their voices and their motions quicken; + +So, at that orison devout and prompt, + The holy circles a new joy displayed + In their revolving and their wondrous song. + +Whoso lamenteth him that here we die + That we may live above, has never there + Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain. + +The One and Two and Three who ever liveth, + And reigneth ever in Three and Two and One, + Not circumscribed and all things circumscribing, + +Three several times was chanted by each one + Among those spirits, with such melody + That for all merit it were just reward; + +And, in the lustre most divine of all + The lesser ring, I heard a modest voice, + Such as perhaps the Angel’s was to Mary, + +Answer: “As long as the festivity + Of Paradise shall be, so long our love + Shall radiate round about us such a vesture. + +Its brightness is proportioned to the ardour, + The ardour to the vision; and the vision + Equals what grace it has above its worth. + +When, glorious and sanctified, our flesh + Is reassumed, then shall our persons be + More pleasing by their being all complete; + +For will increase whate’er bestows on us + Of light gratuitous the Good Supreme, + Light which enables us to look on Him; + +Therefore the vision must perforce increase, + Increase the ardour which from that is kindled, + Increase the radiance which from this proceeds. + +But even as a coal that sends forth flame, + And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it + So that its own appearance it maintains, + +Thus the effulgence that surrounds us now + Shall be o’erpowered in aspect by the flesh, + Which still to-day the earth doth cover up; + +Nor can so great a splendour weary us, + For strong will be the organs of the body + To everything which hath the power to please us.” + +So sudden and alert appeared to me + Both one and the other choir to say Amen, + That well they showed desire for their dead bodies; + +Nor sole for them perhaps, but for the mothers, + The fathers, and the rest who had been dear + Or ever they became eternal flames. + +And lo! all round about of equal brightness + Arose a lustre over what was there, + Like an horizon that is clearing up. + +And as at rise of early eve begin + Along the welkin new appearances, + So that the sight seems real and unreal, + +It seemed to me that new subsistences + Began there to be seen, and make a circle + Outside the other two circumferences. + +O very sparkling of the Holy Spirit, + How sudden and incandescent it became + Unto mine eyes, that vanquished bore it not! + +But Beatrice so beautiful and smiling + Appeared to me, that with the other sights + That followed not my memory I must leave her. + +Then to uplift themselves mine eyes resumed + The power, and I beheld myself translated + To higher salvation with my Lady only. + +Well was I ware that I was more uplifted + By the enkindled smiling of the star, + That seemed to me more ruddy than its wont. + +With all my heart, and in that dialect + Which is the same in all, such holocaust + To God I made as the new grace beseemed; + +And not yet from my bosom was exhausted + The ardour of sacrifice, before I knew + This offering was accepted and auspicious; + +For with so great a lustre and so red + Splendours appeared to me in twofold rays, + I said: “O Helios who dost so adorn them!” + +Even as distinct with less and greater lights + Glimmers between the two poles of the world + The Galaxy that maketh wise men doubt, + +Thus constellated in the depths of Mars, + Those rays described the venerable sign + That quadrants joining in a circle make. + +Here doth my memory overcome my genius; + For on that cross as levin gleamed forth Christ, + So that I cannot find ensample worthy; + +But he who takes his cross and follows Christ + Again will pardon me what I omit, + Seeing in that aurora lighten Christ. + +From horn to horn, and ’twixt the top and base, + Lights were in motion, brightly scintillating + As they together met and passed each other; + +Thus level and aslant and swift and slow + We here behold, renewing still the sight, + The particles of bodies long and short, + +Across the sunbeam move, wherewith is listed + Sometimes the shade, which for their own defence + People with cunning and with art contrive. + +And as a lute and harp, accordant strung + With many strings, a dulcet tinkling make + To him by whom the notes are not distinguished, + +So from the lights that there to me appeared + Upgathered through the cross a melody, + Which rapt me, not distinguishing the hymn. + +Well was I ware it was of lofty laud, + Because there came to me, “Arise and conquer!” + As unto him who hears and comprehends not. + +So much enamoured I became therewith, + That until then there was not anything + That e’er had fettered me with such sweet bonds. + +Perhaps my word appears somewhat too bold, + Postponing the delight of those fair eyes, + Into which gazing my desire has rest; + +But who bethinks him that the living seals + Of every beauty grow in power ascending, + And that I there had not turned round to those, + +Can me excuse, if I myself accuse + To excuse myself, and see that I speak truly: + For here the holy joy is not disclosed, + +Because ascending it becomes more pure. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XV + + +A will benign, in which reveals itself + Ever the love that righteously inspires, + As in the iniquitous, cupidity, + +Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre, + And quieted the consecrated chords, + That Heaven’s right hand doth tighten and relax. + +How unto just entreaties shall be deaf + Those substances, which, to give me desire + Of praying them, with one accord grew silent? + +’Tis well that without end he should lament, + Who for the love of thing that doth not last + Eternally despoils him of that love! + +As through the pure and tranquil evening air + There shoots from time to time a sudden fire, + Moving the eyes that steadfast were before, + +And seems to be a star that changeth place, + Except that in the part where it is kindled + Nothing is missed, and this endureth little; + +So from the horn that to the right extends + Unto that cross’s foot there ran a star + Out of the constellation shining there; + +Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon, + But down the radiant fillet ran along, + So that fire seemed it behind alabaster. + +Thus piteous did Anchises’ shade reach forward, + If any faith our greatest Muse deserve, + When in Elysium he his son perceived. + +“O sanguis meus, O superinfusa + Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui + Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?” + +Thus that effulgence; whence I gave it heed; + Then round unto my Lady turned my sight, + And on this side and that was stupefied; + +For in her eyes was burning such a smile + That with mine own methought I touched the bottom + Both of my grace and of my Paradise! + +Then, pleasant to the hearing and the sight, + The spirit joined to its beginning things + I understood not, so profound it spake; + +Nor did it hide itself from me by choice, + But by necessity; for its conception + Above the mark of mortals set itself. + +And when the bow of burning sympathy + Was so far slackened, that its speech descended + Towards the mark of our intelligence, + +The first thing that was understood by me + Was “Benedight be Thou, O Trine and One, + Who hast unto my seed so courteous been!” + +And it continued: “Hunger long and grateful, + Drawn from the reading of the mighty volume + Wherein is never changed the white nor dark, + +Thou hast appeased, my son, within this light + In which I speak to thee, by grace of her + Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee. + +Thou thinkest that to me thy thought doth pass + From Him who is the first, as from the unit, + If that be known, ray out the five and six; + +And therefore who I am thou askest not, + And why I seem more joyous unto thee + Than any other of this gladsome crowd. + +Thou think’st the truth; because the small and great + Of this existence look into the mirror + Wherein, before thou think’st, thy thought thou showest. + +But that the sacred love, in which I watch + With sight perpetual, and which makes me thirst + With sweet desire, may better be fulfilled, + +Now let thy voice secure and frank and glad + Proclaim the wishes, the desire proclaim, + To which my answer is decreed already.” + +To Beatrice I turned me, and she heard + Before I spake, and smiled to me a sign, + That made the wings of my desire increase; + +Then in this wise began I: “Love and knowledge, + When on you dawned the first Equality, + Of the same weight for each of you became; + +For in the Sun, which lighted you and burned + With heat and radiance, they so equal are, + That all similitudes are insufficient. + +But among mortals will and argument, + For reason that to you is manifest, + Diversely feathered in their pinions are. + +Whence I, who mortal am, feel in myself + This inequality; so give not thanks, + Save in my heart, for this paternal welcome. + +Truly do I entreat thee, living topaz! + Set in this precious jewel as a gem, + That thou wilt satisfy me with thy name.” + +“O leaf of mine, in whom I pleasure took + E’en while awaiting, I was thine own root!” + Such a beginning he in answer made me. + +Then said to me: “That one from whom is named + Thy race, and who a hundred years and more + Has circled round the mount on the first cornice, + +A son of mine and thy great-grandsire was; + Well it behoves thee that the long fatigue + Thou shouldst for him make shorter with thy works. + +Florence, within the ancient boundary + From which she taketh still her tierce and nones, + Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste. + +No golden chain she had, nor coronal, + Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle + That caught the eye more than the person did. + +Not yet the daughter at her birth struck fear + Into the father, for the time and dower + Did not o’errun this side or that the measure. + +No houses had she void of families, + Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus + To show what in a chamber can be done; + +Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been + By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed + Shall in its downfall be as in its rise. + +Bellincion Berti saw I go begirt + With leather and with bone, and from the mirror + His dame depart without a painted face; + +And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio, + Contented with their simple suits of buff + And with the spindle and the flax their dames. + +O fortunate women! and each one was certain + Of her own burial-place, and none as yet + For sake of France was in her bed deserted. + +One o’er the cradle kept her studious watch, + And in her lullaby the language used + That first delights the fathers and the mothers; + +Another, drawing tresses from her distaff, + Told o’er among her family the tales + Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome. + +As great a marvel then would have been held + A Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella, + As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now. + +To such a quiet, such a beautiful + Life of the citizen, to such a safe + Community, and to so sweet an inn, + +Did Mary give me, with loud cries invoked, + And in your ancient Baptistery at once + Christian and Cacciaguida I became. + +Moronto was my brother, and Eliseo; + From Val di Pado came to me my wife, + And from that place thy surname was derived. + +I followed afterward the Emperor Conrad, + And he begirt me of his chivalry, + So much I pleased him with my noble deeds. + +I followed in his train against that law’s + Iniquity, whose people doth usurp + Your just possession, through your Pastor’s fault. + +There by that execrable race was I + Released from bonds of the fallacious world, + The love of which defileth many souls, + +And came from martyrdom unto this peace.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XVI + + +O thou our poor nobility of blood, + If thou dost make the people glory in thee + Down here where our affection languishes, + +A marvellous thing it ne’er will be to me; + For there where appetite is not perverted, + I say in Heaven, of thee I made a boast! + +Truly thou art a cloak that quickly shortens, + So that unless we piece thee day by day + Time goeth round about thee with his shears! + +With ‘You,’ which Rome was first to tolerate, + (Wherein her family less perseveres,) + Yet once again my words beginning made; + +Whence Beatrice, who stood somewhat apart, + Smiling, appeared like unto her who coughed + At the first failing writ of Guenever. + +And I began: “You are my ancestor, + You give to me all hardihood to speak, + You lift me so that I am more than I. + +So many rivulets with gladness fill + My mind, that of itself it makes a joy + Because it can endure this and not burst. + +Then tell me, my beloved root ancestral, + Who were your ancestors, and what the years + That in your boyhood chronicled themselves? + +Tell me about the sheepfold of Saint John, + How large it was, and who the people were + Within it worthy of the highest seats.” + +As at the blowing of the winds a coal + Quickens to flame, so I beheld that light + Become resplendent at my blandishments. + +And as unto mine eyes it grew more fair, + With voice more sweet and tender, but not in + This modern dialect, it said to me: + +“From uttering of the ‘Ave,’ till the birth + In which my mother, who is now a saint, + Of me was lightened who had been her burden, + +Unto its Lion had this fire returned + Five hundred fifty times and thirty more, + To reinflame itself beneath his paw. + +My ancestors and I our birthplace had + Where first is found the last ward of the city + By him who runneth in your annual game. + +Suffice it of my elders to hear this; + But who they were, and whence they thither came, + Silence is more considerate than speech. + +All those who at that time were there between + Mars and the Baptist, fit for bearing arms, + Were a fifth part of those who now are living; + +But the community, that now is mixed + With Campi and Certaldo and Figghine, + Pure in the lowest artisan was seen. + +O how much better ’twere to have as neighbours + The folk of whom I speak, and at Galluzzo + And at Trespiano have your boundary, + +Than have them in the town, and bear the stench + Of Aguglione’s churl, and him of Signa + Who has sharp eyes for trickery already. + +Had not the folk, which most of all the world + Degenerates, been a step-dame unto Caesar, + But as a mother to her son benignant, + +Some who turn Florentines, and trade and discount, + Would have gone back again to Simifonte + There where their grandsires went about as beggars. + +At Montemurlo still would be the Counts, + The Cerchi in the parish of Acone, + Perhaps in Valdigrieve the Buondelmonti. + +Ever the intermingling of the people + Has been the source of malady in cities, + As in the body food it surfeits on; + +And a blind bull more headlong plunges down + Than a blind lamb; and very often cuts + Better and more a single sword than five. + +If Luni thou regard, and Urbisaglia, + How they have passed away, and how are passing + Chiusi and Sinigaglia after them, + +To hear how races waste themselves away, + Will seem to thee no novel thing nor hard, + Seeing that even cities have an end. + +All things of yours have their mortality, + Even as yourselves; but it is hidden in some + That a long while endure, and lives are short; + +And as the turning of the lunar heaven + Covers and bares the shores without a pause, + In the like manner fortune does with Florence. + +Therefore should not appear a marvellous thing + What I shall say of the great Florentines + Of whom the fame is hidden in the Past. + +I saw the Ughi, saw the Catellini, + Filippi, Greci, Ormanni, and Alberichi, + Even in their fall illustrious citizens; + +And saw, as mighty as they ancient were, + With him of La Sannella him of Arca, + And Soldanier, Ardinghi, and Bostichi. + +Near to the gate that is at present laden + With a new felony of so much weight + That soon it shall be jetsam from the bark, + +The Ravignani were, from whom descended + The County Guido, and whoe’er the name + Of the great Bellincione since hath taken. + +He of La Pressa knew the art of ruling + Already, and already Galigajo + Had hilt and pommel gilded in his house. + +Mighty already was the Column Vair, + Sacchetti, Giuochi, Fifant, and Barucci, + And Galli, and they who for the bushel blush. + +The stock from which were the Calfucci born + Was great already, and already chosen + To curule chairs the Sizii and Arrigucci. + +O how beheld I those who are undone + By their own pride! and how the Balls of Gold + Florence enflowered in all their mighty deeds! + +So likewise did the ancestors of those + Who evermore, when vacant is your church, + Fatten by staying in consistory. + +The insolent race, that like a dragon follows + Whoever flees, and unto him that shows + His teeth or purse is gentle as a lamb, + +Already rising was, but from low people; + So that it pleased not Ubertin Donato + That his wife’s father should make him their kin. + +Already had Caponsacco to the Market + From Fesole descended, and already + Giuda and Infangato were good burghers. + +I’ll tell a thing incredible, but true; + One entered the small circuit by a gate + Which from the Della Pera took its name! + +Each one that bears the beautiful escutcheon + Of the great baron whose renown and name + The festival of Thomas keepeth fresh, + +Knighthood and privilege from him received; + Though with the populace unites himself + To-day the man who binds it with a border. + +Already were Gualterotti and Importuni; + And still more quiet would the Borgo be + If with new neighbours it remained unfed. + +The house from which is born your lamentation, + Through just disdain that death among you brought + And put an end unto your joyous life, + +Was honoured in itself and its companions. + O Buondelmonte, how in evil hour + Thou fled’st the bridal at another’s promptings! + +Many would be rejoicing who are sad, + If God had thee surrendered to the Ema + The first time that thou camest to the city. + +But it behoved the mutilated stone + Which guards the bridge, that Florence should provide + A victim in her latest hour of peace. + +With all these families, and others with them, + Florence beheld I in so great repose, + That no occasion had she whence to weep; + +With all these families beheld so just + And glorious her people, that the lily + Never upon the spear was placed reversed, + +Nor by division was vermilion made.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XVII + + +As came to Clymene, to be made certain + Of that which he had heard against himself, + He who makes fathers chary still to children, + +Even such was I, and such was I perceived + By Beatrice and by the holy light + That first on my account had changed its place. + +Therefore my Lady said to me: “Send forth + The flame of thy desire, so that it issue + Imprinted well with the internal stamp; + +Not that our knowledge may be greater made + By speech of thine, but to accustom thee + To tell thy thirst, that we may give thee drink.” + +“O my beloved tree, (that so dost lift thee, + That even as minds terrestrial perceive + No triangle containeth two obtuse, + +So thou beholdest the contingent things + Ere in themselves they are, fixing thine eyes + Upon the point in which all times are present,) + +While I was with Virgilius conjoined + Upon the mountain that the souls doth heal, + And when descending into the dead world, + +Were spoken to me of my future life + Some grievous words; although I feel myself + In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance. + +On this account my wish would be content + To hear what fortune is approaching me, + Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly.” + +Thus did I say unto that selfsame light + That unto me had spoken before; and even + As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed. + +Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk + Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain + The Lamb of God who taketh sins away, + +But with clear words and unambiguous + Language responded that paternal love, + Hid and revealed by its own proper smile: + +“Contingency, that outside of the volume + Of your materiality extends not, + Is all depicted in the eternal aspect. + +Necessity however thence it takes not, + Except as from the eye, in which ’tis mirrored, + A ship that with the current down descends. + +From thence, e’en as there cometh to the ear + Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight + To me the time that is preparing for thee. + +As forth from Athens went Hippolytus, + By reason of his step-dame false and cruel, + So thou from Florence must perforce depart. + +Already this is willed, and this is sought for; + And soon it shall be done by him who thinks it, + Where every day the Christ is bought and sold. + +The blame shall follow the offended party + In outcry as is usual; but the vengeance + Shall witness to the truth that doth dispense it. + +Thou shalt abandon everything beloved + Most tenderly, and this the arrow is + Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth. + +Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt + The bread of others, and how hard a road + The going down and up another’s stairs. + +And that which most shall weigh upon thy shoulders + Will be the bad and foolish company + With which into this valley thou shalt fall; + +For all ingrate, all mad and impious + Will they become against thee; but soon after + They, and not thou, shall have the forehead scarlet. + +Of their bestiality their own proceedings + Shall furnish proof; so ’twill be well for thee + A party to have made thee by thyself. + +Thine earliest refuge and thine earliest inn + Shall be the mighty Lombard’s courtesy, + Who on the Ladder bears the holy bird, + +Who such benign regard shall have for thee + That ’twixt you twain, in doing and in asking, + That shall be first which is with others last. + +With him shalt thou see one who at his birth + Has by this star of strength been so impressed, + That notable shall his achievements be. + +Not yet the people are aware of him + Through his young age, since only nine years yet + Around about him have these wheels revolved. + +But ere the Gascon cheat the noble Henry, + Some sparkles of his virtue shall appear + In caring not for silver nor for toil. + +So recognized shall his magnificence + Become hereafter, that his enemies + Will not have power to keep mute tongues about it. + +On him rely, and on his benefits; + By him shall many people be transformed, + Changing condition rich and mendicant; + +And written in thy mind thou hence shalt bear + Of him, but shalt not say it”—and things said he + Incredible to those who shall be present. + +Then added: “Son, these are the commentaries + On what was said to thee; behold the snares + That are concealed behind few revolutions; + +Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy, + Because thy life into the future reaches + Beyond the punishment of their perfidies.” + +When by its silence showed that sainted soul + That it had finished putting in the woof + Into that web which I had given it warped, + +Began I, even as he who yearneth after, + Being in doubt, some counsel from a person + Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves: + +“Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on + The time towards me such a blow to deal me + As heaviest is to him who most gives way. + +Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, + That, if the dearest place be taken from me, + I may not lose the others by my songs. + +Down through the world of infinite bitterness, + And o’er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit + The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, + +And afterward through heaven from light to light, + I have learned that which, if I tell again, + Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. + +And if I am a timid friend to truth, + I fear lest I may lose my life with those + Who will hereafter call this time the olden.” + +The light in which was smiling my own treasure + Which there I had discovered, flashed at first + As in the sunshine doth a golden mirror; + +Then made reply: “A conscience overcast + Or with its own or with another’s shame, + Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word; + +But ne’ertheless, all falsehood laid aside, + Make manifest thy vision utterly, + And let them scratch wherever is the itch; + +For if thine utterance shall offensive be + At the first taste, a vital nutriment + ’Twill leave thereafter, when it is digested. + +This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind, + Which smiteth most the most exalted summits, + And that is no slight argument of honour. + +Therefore are shown to thee within these wheels, + Upon the mount and in the dolorous valley, + Only the souls that unto fame are known; + +Because the spirit of the hearer rests not, + Nor doth confirm its faith by an example + Which has the root of it unknown and hidden, + +Or other reason that is not apparent.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XVIII + + +Now was alone rejoicing in its word + That soul beatified, and I was tasting + My own, the bitter tempering with the sweet, + +And the Lady who to God was leading me + Said: “Change thy thought; consider that I am + Near unto Him who every wrong disburdens.” + +Unto the loving accents of my comfort + I turned me round, and then what love I saw + Within those holy eyes I here relinquish; + +Not only that my language I distrust, + But that my mind cannot return so far + Above itself, unless another guide it. + +Thus much upon that point can I repeat, + That, her again beholding, my affection + From every other longing was released. + +While the eternal pleasure, which direct + Rayed upon Beatrice, from her fair face + Contented me with its reflected aspect, + +Conquering me with the radiance of a smile, + She said to me, “Turn thee about and listen; + Not in mine eyes alone is Paradise.” + +Even as sometimes here do we behold + The affection in the look, if it be such + That all the soul is wrapt away by it, + +So, by the flaming of the effulgence holy + To which I turned, I recognized therein + The wish of speaking to me somewhat farther. + +And it began: “In this fifth resting-place + Upon the tree that liveth by its summit, + And aye bears fruit, and never loses leaf, + +Are blessed spirits that below, ere yet + They came to Heaven, were of such great renown + That every Muse therewith would affluent be. + +Therefore look thou upon the cross’s horns; + He whom I now shall name will there enact + What doth within a cloud its own swift fire.” + +I saw athwart the Cross a splendour drawn + By naming Joshua, (even as he did it,) + Nor noted I the word before the deed; + +And at the name of the great Maccabee + I saw another move itself revolving, + And gladness was the whip unto that top. + +Likewise for Charlemagne and for Orlando, + Two of them my regard attentive followed + As followeth the eye its falcon flying. + +William thereafterward, and Renouard, + And the Duke Godfrey, did attract my sight + Along upon that Cross, and Robert Guiscard. + +Then, moved and mingled with the other lights, + The soul that had addressed me showed how great + An artist ’twas among the heavenly singers. + +To my right side I turned myself around, + My duty to behold in Beatrice + Either by words or gesture signified; + +And so translucent I beheld her eyes, + So full of pleasure, that her countenance + Surpassed its other and its latest wont. + +And as, by feeling greater delectation, + A man in doing good from day to day + Becomes aware his virtue is increasing, + +So I became aware that my gyration + With heaven together had increased its arc, + That miracle beholding more adorned. + +And such as is the change, in little lapse + Of time, in a pale woman, when her face + Is from the load of bashfulness unladen, + +Such was it in mine eyes, when I had turned, + Caused by the whiteness of the temperate star, + The sixth, which to itself had gathered me. + +Within that Jovial torch did I behold + The sparkling of the love which was therein + Delineate our language to mine eyes. + +And even as birds uprisen from the shore, + As in congratulation o’er their food, + Make squadrons of themselves, now round, now long, + +So from within those lights the holy creatures + Sang flying to and fro, and in their figures + Made of themselves now D, now I, now L. + +First singing they to their own music moved; + Then one becoming of these characters, + A little while they rested and were silent. + +O divine Pegasea, thou who genius + Dost glorious make, and render it long-lived, + And this through thee the cities and the kingdoms, + +Illume me with thyself, that I may bring + Their figures out as I have them conceived! + Apparent be thy power in these brief verses! + +Themselves then they displayed in five times seven + Vowels and consonants; and I observed + The parts as they seemed spoken unto me. + +‘Diligite justitiam,’ these were + First verb and noun of all that was depicted; + ‘Qui judicatis terram’ were the last. + +Thereafter in the M of the fifth word + Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter + Seemed to be silver there with gold inlaid. + +And other lights I saw descend where was + The summit of the M, and pause there singing + The good, I think, that draws them to itself. + +Then, as in striking upon burning logs + Upward there fly innumerable sparks, + Whence fools are wont to look for auguries, + +More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, + And to ascend, some more, and others less, + Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted; + +And, each one being quiet in its place, + The head and neck beheld I of an eagle + Delineated by that inlaid fire. + +He who there paints has none to be his guide; + But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered + That virtue which is form unto the nest. + +The other beatitude, that contented seemed + At first to bloom a lily on the M, + By a slight motion followed out the imprint. + +O gentle star! what and how many gems + Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice + Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest! + +Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin + Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard + Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays; + +So that a second time it now be wroth + With buying and with selling in the temple + Whose walls were built with signs and martyrdoms! + +O soldiery of heaven, whom I contemplate, + Implore for those who are upon the earth + All gone astray after the bad example! + +Once ’twas the custom to make war with swords; + But now ’tis made by taking here and there + The bread the pitying Father shuts from none. + +Yet thou, who writest but to cancel, think + That Peter and that Paul, who for this vineyard + Which thou art spoiling died, are still alive! + +Well canst thou say: “So steadfast my desire + Is unto him who willed to live alone, + And for a dance was led to martyrdom, + +That I know not the Fisherman nor Paul.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XIX + + +Appeared before me with its wings outspread + The beautiful image that in sweet fruition + Made jubilant the interwoven souls; + +Appeared a little ruby each, wherein + Ray of the sun was burning so enkindled + That each into mine eyes refracted it. + +And what it now behoves me to retrace + Nor voice has e’er reported, nor ink written, + Nor was by fantasy e’er comprehended; + +For speak I saw, and likewise heard, the beak, + And utter with its voice both ‘I’ and ‘My,’ + When in conception it was ‘We’ and ‘Our.’ + +And it began: “Being just and merciful + Am I exalted here unto that glory + Which cannot be exceeded by desire; + +And upon earth I left my memory + Such, that the evil-minded people there + Commend it, but continue not the story.” + +So doth a single heat from many embers + Make itself felt, even as from many loves + Issued a single sound from out that image. + +Whence I thereafter: “O perpetual flowers + Of the eternal joy, that only one + Make me perceive your odours manifold, + +Exhaling, break within me the great fast + Which a long season has in hunger held me, + Not finding for it any food on earth. + +Well do I know, that if in heaven its mirror + Justice Divine another realm doth make, + Yours apprehends it not through any veil. + +You know how I attentively address me + To listen; and you know what is the doubt + That is in me so very old a fast.” + +Even as a falcon, issuing from his hood, + Doth move his head, and with his wings applaud him, + Showing desire, and making himself fine, + +Saw I become that standard, which of lauds + Was interwoven of the grace divine, + With such songs as he knows who there rejoices. + +Then it began: “He who a compass turned + On the world’s outer verge, and who within it + Devised so much occult and manifest, + +Could not the impress of his power so make + On all the universe, as that his Word + Should not remain in infinite excess. + +And this makes certain that the first proud being, + Who was the paragon of every creature, + By not awaiting light fell immature. + +And hence appears it, that each minor nature + Is scant receptacle unto that good + Which has no end, and by itself is measured. + +In consequence our vision, which perforce + Must be some ray of that intelligence + With which all things whatever are replete, + +Cannot in its own nature be so potent, + That it shall not its origin discern + Far beyond that which is apparent to it. + +Therefore into the justice sempiternal + The power of vision that your world receives, + As eye into the ocean, penetrates; + +Which, though it see the bottom near the shore, + Upon the deep perceives it not, and yet + ’Tis there, but it is hidden by the depth. + +There is no light but comes from the serene + That never is o’ercast, nay, it is darkness + Or shadow of the flesh, or else its poison. + +Amply to thee is opened now the cavern + Which has concealed from thee the living justice + Of which thou mad’st such frequent questioning. + +For saidst thou: ‘Born a man is on the shore + Of Indus, and is none who there can speak + Of Christ, nor who can read, nor who can write; + +And all his inclinations and his actions + Are good, so far as human reason sees, + Without a sin in life or in discourse: + +He dieth unbaptised and without faith; + Where is this justice that condemneth him? + Where is his fault, if he do not believe?’ + +Now who art thou, that on the bench wouldst sit + In judgment at a thousand miles away, + With the short vision of a single span? + +Truly to him who with me subtilizes, + If so the Scripture were not over you, + For doubting there were marvellous occasion. + +O animals terrene, O stolid minds, + The primal will, that in itself is good, + Ne’er from itself, the Good Supreme, has moved. + +So much is just as is accordant with it; + No good created draws it to itself, + But it, by raying forth, occasions that.” + +Even as above her nest goes circling round + The stork when she has fed her little ones, + And he who has been fed looks up at her, + +So lifted I my brows, and even such + Became the blessed image, which its wings + Was moving, by so many counsels urged. + +Circling around it sang, and said: “As are + My notes to thee, who dost not comprehend them, + Such is the eternal judgment to you mortals.” + +Those lucent splendours of the Holy Spirit + Grew quiet then, but still within the standard + That made the Romans reverend to the world. + +It recommenced: “Unto this kingdom never + Ascended one who had not faith in Christ, + Before or since he to the tree was nailed. + +But look thou, many crying are, ‘Christ, Christ!’ + Who at the judgment shall be far less near + To him than some shall be who knew not Christ. + +Such Christians shall the Ethiop condemn, + When the two companies shall be divided, + The one for ever rich, the other poor. + +What to your kings may not the Persians say, + When they that volume opened shall behold + In which are written down all their dispraises? + +There shall be seen, among the deeds of Albert, + That which ere long shall set the pen in motion, + For which the realm of Prague shall be deserted. + +There shall be seen the woe that on the Seine + He brings by falsifying of the coin, + Who by the blow of a wild boar shall die. + +There shall be seen the pride that causes thirst, + Which makes the Scot and Englishman so mad + That they within their boundaries cannot rest; + +Be seen the luxury and effeminate life + Of him of Spain, and the Bohemian, + Who valour never knew and never wished; + +Be seen the Cripple of Jerusalem, + His goodness represented by an I, + While the reverse an M shall represent; + +Be seen the avarice and poltroonery + Of him who guards the Island of the Fire, + Wherein Anchises finished his long life; + +And to declare how pitiful he is + Shall be his record in contracted letters + Which shall make note of much in little space. + +And shall appear to each one the foul deeds + Of uncle and of brother who a nation + So famous have dishonoured, and two crowns. + +And he of Portugal and he of Norway + Shall there be known, and he of Rascia too, + Who saw in evil hour the coin of Venice. + +O happy Hungary, if she let herself + Be wronged no farther! and Navarre the happy, + If with the hills that gird her she be armed! + +And each one may believe that now, as hansel + Thereof, do Nicosia and Famagosta + Lament and rage because of their own beast, + +Who from the others’ flank departeth not.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XX + + +When he who all the world illuminates + Out of our hemisphere so far descends + That on all sides the daylight is consumed, + +The heaven, that erst by him alone was kindled, + Doth suddenly reveal itself again + By many lights, wherein is one resplendent. + +And came into my mind this act of heaven, + When the ensign of the world and of its leaders + Had silent in the blessed beak become; + +Because those living luminaries all, + By far more luminous, did songs begin + Lapsing and falling from my memory. + +O gentle Love, that with a smile dost cloak thee, + How ardent in those sparks didst thou appear, + That had the breath alone of holy thoughts! + +After the precious and pellucid crystals, + With which begemmed the sixth light I beheld, + Silence imposed on the angelic bells, + +I seemed to hear the murmuring of a river + That clear descendeth down from rock to rock, + Showing the affluence of its mountain-top. + +And as the sound upon the cithern’s neck + Taketh its form, and as upon the vent + Of rustic pipe the wind that enters it, + +Even thus, relieved from the delay of waiting, + That murmuring of the eagle mounted up + Along its neck, as if it had been hollow. + +There it became a voice, and issued thence + From out its beak, in such a form of words + As the heart waited for wherein I wrote them. + +“The part in me which sees and bears the sun + In mortal eagles,” it began to me, + “Now fixedly must needs be looked upon; + +For of the fires of which I make my figure, + Those whence the eye doth sparkle in my head + Of all their orders the supremest are. + +He who is shining in the midst as pupil + Was once the singer of the Holy Spirit, + Who bore the ark from city unto city; + +Now knoweth he the merit of his song, + In so far as effect of his own counsel, + By the reward which is commensurate. + +Of five, that make a circle for my brow, + He that approacheth nearest to my beak + Did the poor widow for her son console; + +Now knoweth he how dearly it doth cost + Not following Christ, by the experience + Of this sweet life and of its opposite. + +He who comes next in the circumference + Of which I speak, upon its highest arc, + Did death postpone by penitence sincere; + +Now knoweth he that the eternal judgment + Suffers no change, albeit worthy prayer + Maketh below to-morrow of to-day. + +The next who follows, with the laws and me, + Under the good intent that bore bad fruit + Became a Greek by ceding to the pastor; + +Now knoweth he how all the ill deduced + From his good action is not harmful to him, + Although the world thereby may be destroyed. + +And he, whom in the downward arc thou seest, + Guglielmo was, whom the same land deplores + That weepeth Charles and Frederick yet alive; + +Now knoweth he how heaven enamoured is + With a just king; and in the outward show + Of his effulgence he reveals it still. + +Who would believe, down in the errant world, + That e’er the Trojan Ripheus in this round + Could be the fifth one of the holy lights? + +Now knoweth he enough of what the world + Has not the power to see of grace divine, + Although his sight may not discern the bottom.” + +Like as a lark that in the air expatiates, + First singing and then silent with content + Of the last sweetness that doth satisfy her, + +Such seemed to me the image of the imprint + Of the eternal pleasure, by whose will + Doth everything become the thing it is. + +And notwithstanding to my doubt I was + As glass is to the colour that invests it, + To wait the time in silence it endured not, + +But forth from out my mouth, “What things are these?” + Extorted with the force of its own weight; + Whereat I saw great joy of coruscation. + +Thereafterward with eye still more enkindled + The blessed standard made to me reply, + To keep me not in wonderment suspended: + +“I see that thou believest in these things + Because I say them, but thou seest not how; + So that, although believed in, they are hidden. + +Thou doest as he doth who a thing by name + Well apprehendeth, but its quiddity + Cannot perceive, unless another show it. + +‘Regnum coelorum’ suffereth violence + From fervent love, and from that living hope + That overcometh the Divine volition; + +Not in the guise that man o’ercometh man, + But conquers it because it will be conquered, + And conquered conquers by benignity. + +The first life of the eyebrow and the fifth + Cause thee astonishment, because with them + Thou seest the region of the angels painted. + +They passed not from their bodies, as thou thinkest, + Gentiles, but Christians in the steadfast faith + Of feet that were to suffer and had suffered. + +For one from Hell, where no one e’er turns back + Unto good will, returned unto his bones, + And that of living hope was the reward,— + +Of living hope, that placed its efficacy + In prayers to God made to resuscitate him, + So that ’twere possible to move his will. + +The glorious soul concerning which I speak, + Returning to the flesh, where brief its stay, + Believed in Him who had the power to aid it; + +And, in believing, kindled to such fire + Of genuine love, that at the second death + Worthy it was to come unto this joy. + +The other one, through grace, that from so deep + A fountain wells that never hath the eye + Of any creature reached its primal wave, + +Set all his love below on righteousness; + Wherefore from grace to grace did God unclose + His eye to our redemption yet to be, + +Whence he believed therein, and suffered not + From that day forth the stench of paganism, + And he reproved therefor the folk perverse. + +Those Maidens three, whom at the right-hand wheel + Thou didst behold, were unto him for baptism + More than a thousand years before baptizing. + +O thou predestination, how remote + Thy root is from the aspect of all those + Who the First Cause do not behold entire! + +And you, O mortals! hold yourselves restrained + In judging; for ourselves, who look on God, + We do not know as yet all the elect; + +And sweet to us is such a deprivation, + Because our good in this good is made perfect, + That whatsoe’er God wills, we also will.” + +After this manner by that shape divine, + To make clear in me my short-sightedness, + Was given to me a pleasant medicine; + +And as good singer a good lutanist + Accompanies with vibrations of the chords, + Whereby more pleasantness the song acquires, + +So, while it spake, do I remember me + That I beheld both of those blessed lights, + Even as the winking of the eyes concords, + +Moving unto the words their little flames. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXI + + +Already on my Lady’s face mine eyes + Again were fastened, and with these my mind, + And from all other purpose was withdrawn; + +And she smiled not; but “If I were to smile,” + She unto me began, “thou wouldst become + Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes. + +Because my beauty, that along the stairs + Of the eternal palace more enkindles, + As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend, + +If it were tempered not, is so resplendent + That all thy mortal power in its effulgence + Would seem a leaflet that the thunder crushes. + +We are uplifted to the seventh splendour, + That underneath the burning Lion’s breast + Now radiates downward mingled with his power. + +Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind, + And make of them a mirror for the figure + That in this mirror shall appear to thee.” + +He who could know what was the pasturage + My sight had in that blessed countenance, + When I transferred me to another care, + +Would recognize how grateful was to me + Obedience unto my celestial escort, + By counterpoising one side with the other. + +Within the crystal which, around the world + Revolving, bears the name of its dear leader, + Under whom every wickedness lay dead, + +Coloured like gold, on which the sunshine gleams, + A stairway I beheld to such a height + Uplifted, that mine eye pursued it not. + +Likewise beheld I down the steps descending + So many splendours, that I thought each light + That in the heaven appears was there diffused. + +And as accordant with their natural custom + The rooks together at the break of day + Bestir themselves to warm their feathers cold; + +Then some of them fly off without return, + Others come back to where they started from, + And others, wheeling round, still keep at home; + +Such fashion it appeared to me was there + Within the sparkling that together came, + As soon as on a certain step it struck, + +And that which nearest unto us remained + Became so clear, that in my thought I said, + “Well I perceive the love thou showest me; + +But she, from whom I wait the how and when + Of speech and silence, standeth still; whence I + Against desire do well if I ask not.” + +She thereupon, who saw my silentness + In the sight of Him who seeth everything, + Said unto me, “Let loose thy warm desire.” + +And I began: “No merit of my own + Renders me worthy of response from thee; + But for her sake who granteth me the asking, + +Thou blessed life that dost remain concealed + In thy beatitude, make known to me + The cause which draweth thee so near my side; + +And tell me why is silent in this wheel + The dulcet symphony of Paradise, + That through the rest below sounds so devoutly.” + +“Thou hast thy hearing mortal as thy sight,” + It answer made to me; “they sing not here, + For the same cause that Beatrice has not smiled. + +Thus far adown the holy stairway’s steps + Have I descended but to give thee welcome + With words, and with the light that mantles me; + +Nor did more love cause me to be more ready, + For love as much and more up there is burning, + As doth the flaming manifest to thee. + +But the high charity, that makes us servants + Prompt to the counsel which controls the world, + Allotteth here, even as thou dost observe.” + +“I see full well,” said I, “O sacred lamp! + How love unfettered in this court sufficeth + To follow the eternal Providence; + +But this is what seems hard for me to see, + Wherefore predestinate wast thou alone + Unto this office from among thy consorts.” + +No sooner had I come to the last word, + Than of its middle made the light a centre, + Whirling itself about like a swift millstone. + +When answer made the love that was therein: + “On me directed is a light divine, + Piercing through this in which I am embosomed, + +Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined + Lifts me above myself so far, I see + The supreme essence from which this is drawn. + +Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame, + For to my sight, as far as it is clear, + The clearness of the flame I equal make. + +But that soul in the heaven which is most pure, + That seraph which his eye on God most fixes, + Could this demand of thine not satisfy; + +Because so deeply sinks in the abyss + Of the eternal statute what thou askest, + From all created sight it is cut off. + +And to the mortal world, when thou returnest, + This carry back, that it may not presume + Longer tow’rd such a goal to move its feet. + +The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke; + From this observe how can it do below + That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?” + +Such limit did its words prescribe to me, + The question I relinquished, and restricted + Myself to ask it humbly who it was. + +“Between two shores of Italy rise cliffs, + And not far distant from thy native place, + So high, the thunders far below them sound, + +And form a ridge that Catria is called, + ’Neath which is consecrate a hermitage + Wont to be dedicate to worship only.” + +Thus unto me the third speech recommenced, + And then, continuing, it said: “Therein + Unto God’s service I became so steadfast, + +That feeding only on the juice of olives + Lightly I passed away the heats and frosts, + Contented in my thoughts contemplative. + +That cloister used to render to these heavens + Abundantly, and now is empty grown, + So that perforce it soon must be revealed. + +I in that place was Peter Damiano; + And Peter the Sinner was I in the house + Of Our Lady on the Adriatic shore. + +Little of mortal life remained to me, + When I was called and dragged forth to the hat + Which shifteth evermore from bad to worse. + +Came Cephas, and the mighty Vessel came + Of the Holy Spirit, meagre and barefooted, + Taking the food of any hostelry. + +Now some one to support them on each side + The modern shepherds need, and some to lead them, + So heavy are they, and to hold their trains. + +They cover up their palfreys with their cloaks, + So that two beasts go underneath one skin; + O Patience, that dost tolerate so much!” + +At this voice saw I many little flames + From step to step descending and revolving, + And every revolution made them fairer. + +Round about this one came they and stood still, + And a cry uttered of so loud a sound, + It here could find no parallel, nor I + +Distinguished it, the thunder so o’ercame me. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXII + + +Oppressed with stupor, I unto my guide + Turned like a little child who always runs + For refuge there where he confideth most; + +And she, even as a mother who straightway + Gives comfort to her pale and breathless boy + With voice whose wont it is to reassure him, + +Said to me: “Knowest thou not thou art in heaven, + And knowest thou not that heaven is holy all + And what is done here cometh from good zeal? + +After what wise the singing would have changed thee + And I by smiling, thou canst now imagine, + Since that the cry has startled thee so much, + +In which if thou hadst understood its prayers + Already would be known to thee the vengeance + Which thou shalt look upon before thou diest. + +The sword above here smiteth not in haste + Nor tardily, howe’er it seem to him + Who fearing or desiring waits for it. + +But turn thee round towards the others now, + For very illustrious spirits shalt thou see, + If thou thy sight directest as I say.” + +As it seemed good to her mine eyes I turned, + And saw a hundred spherules that together + With mutual rays each other more embellished. + +I stood as one who in himself represses + The point of his desire, and ventures not + To question, he so feareth the too much. + +And now the largest and most luculent + Among those pearls came forward, that it might + Make my desire concerning it content. + +Within it then I heard: “If thou couldst see + Even as myself the charity that burns + Among us, thy conceits would be expressed; + +But, that by waiting thou mayst not come late + To the high end, I will make answer even + Unto the thought of which thou art so chary. + +That mountain on whose slope Cassino stands + Was frequented of old upon its summit + By a deluded folk and ill-disposed; + +And I am he who first up thither bore + The name of Him who brought upon the earth + The truth that so much sublimateth us. + +And such abundant grace upon me shone + That all the neighbouring towns I drew away + From the impious worship that seduced the world. + +These other fires, each one of them, were men + Contemplative, enkindled by that heat + Which maketh holy flowers and fruits spring up. + +Here is Macarius, here is Romualdus, + Here are my brethren, who within the cloisters + Their footsteps stayed and kept a steadfast heart.” + +And I to him: “The affection which thou showest + Speaking with me, and the good countenance + Which I behold and note in all your ardours, + +In me have so my confidence dilated + As the sun doth the rose, when it becomes + As far unfolded as it hath the power. + +Therefore I pray, and thou assure me, father, + If I may so much grace receive, that I + May thee behold with countenance unveiled.” + +He thereupon: “Brother, thy high desire + In the remotest sphere shall be fulfilled, + Where are fulfilled all others and my own. + +There perfect is, and ripened, and complete, + Every desire; within that one alone + Is every part where it has always been; + +For it is not in space, nor turns on poles, + And unto it our stairway reaches up, + Whence thus from out thy sight it steals away. + +Up to that height the Patriarch Jacob saw it + Extending its supernal part, what time + So thronged with angels it appeared to him. + +But to ascend it now no one uplifts + His feet from off the earth, and now my Rule + Below remaineth for mere waste of paper. + +The walls that used of old to be an Abbey + Are changed to dens of robbers, and the cowls + Are sacks filled full of miserable flour. + +But heavy usury is not taken up + So much against God’s pleasure as that fruit + Which maketh so insane the heart of monks; + +For whatsoever hath the Church in keeping + Is for the folk that ask it in God’s name, + Not for one’s kindred or for something worse. + +The flesh of mortals is so very soft, + That good beginnings down below suffice not + From springing of the oak to bearing acorns. + +Peter began with neither gold nor silver, + And I with orison and abstinence, + And Francis with humility his convent. + +And if thou lookest at each one’s beginning, + And then regardest whither he has run, + Thou shalt behold the white changed into brown. + +In verity the Jordan backward turned, + And the sea’s fleeing, when God willed were more + A wonder to behold, than succour here.” + +Thus unto me he said; and then withdrew + To his own band, and the band closed together; + Then like a whirlwind all was upward rapt. + +The gentle Lady urged me on behind them + Up o’er that stairway by a single sign, + So did her virtue overcome my nature; + +Nor here below, where one goes up and down + By natural law, was motion e’er so swift + That it could be compared unto my wing. + +Reader, as I may unto that devout + Triumph return, on whose account I often + For my transgressions weep and beat my breast,— + +Thou hadst not thrust thy finger in the fire + And drawn it out again, before I saw + The sign that follows Taurus, and was in it. + +O glorious stars, O light impregnated + With mighty virtue, from which I acknowledge + All of my genius, whatsoe’er it be, + +With you was born, and hid himself with you, + He who is father of all mortal life, + When first I tasted of the Tuscan air; + +And then when grace was freely given to me + To enter the high wheel which turns you round, + Your region was allotted unto me. + +To you devoutly at this hour my soul + Is sighing, that it virtue may acquire + For the stern pass that draws it to itself. + +“Thou art so near unto the last salvation,” + Thus Beatrice began, “thou oughtest now + To have thine eves unclouded and acute; + +And therefore, ere thou enter farther in, + Look down once more, and see how vast a world + Thou hast already put beneath thy feet; + +So that thy heart, as jocund as it may, + Present itself to the triumphant throng + That comes rejoicing through this rounded ether.” + +I with my sight returned through one and all + The sevenfold spheres, and I beheld this globe + Such that I smiled at its ignoble semblance; + +And that opinion I approve as best + Which doth account it least; and he who thinks + Of something else may truly be called just. + +I saw the daughter of Latona shining + Without that shadow, which to me was cause + That once I had believed her rare and dense. + +The aspect of thy son, Hyperion, + Here I sustained, and saw how move themselves + Around and near him Maia and Dione. + +Thence there appeared the temperateness of Jove + ’Twixt son and father, and to me was clear + The change that of their whereabout they make; + +And all the seven made manifest to me + How great they are, and eke how swift they are, + And how they are in distant habitations. + +The threshing-floor that maketh us so proud, + To me revolving with the eternal Twins, + Was all apparent made from hill to harbour! + +Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes I turned. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXIII + + +Even as a bird, ’mid the beloved leaves, + Quiet upon the nest of her sweet brood + Throughout the night, that hideth all things from us, + +Who, that she may behold their longed-for looks + And find the food wherewith to nourish them, + In which, to her, grave labours grateful are, + +Anticipates the time on open spray + And with an ardent longing waits the sun, + Gazing intent as soon as breaks the dawn: + +Even thus my Lady standing was, erect + And vigilant, turned round towards the zone + Underneath which the sun displays less haste; + +So that beholding her distraught and wistful, + Such I became as he is who desiring + For something yearns, and hoping is appeased. + +But brief the space from one When to the other; + Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing + The welkin grow resplendent more and more. + +And Beatrice exclaimed: “Behold the hosts + Of Christ’s triumphal march, and all the fruit + Harvested by the rolling of these spheres!” + +It seemed to me her face was all aflame; + And eyes she had so full of ecstasy + That I must needs pass on without describing. + +As when in nights serene of the full moon + Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal + Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs, + +Saw I, above the myriads of lamps, + A Sun that one and all of them enkindled, + E’en as our own doth the supernal sights, + +And through the living light transparent shone + The lucent substance so intensely clear + Into my sight, that I sustained it not. + +O Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear! + To me she said: “What overmasters thee + A virtue is from which naught shields itself. + +There are the wisdom and the omnipotence + That oped the thoroughfares ’twixt heaven and earth, + For which there erst had been so long a yearning.” + +As fire from out a cloud unlocks itself, + Dilating so it finds not room therein, + And down, against its nature, falls to earth, + +So did my mind, among those aliments + Becoming larger, issue from itself, + And that which it became cannot remember. + +“Open thine eyes, and look at what I am: + Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough + Hast thou become to tolerate my smile.” + +I was as one who still retains the feeling + Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours + In vain to bring it back into his mind, + +When I this invitation heard, deserving + Of so much gratitude, it never fades + Out of the book that chronicles the past. + +If at this moment sounded all the tongues + That Polyhymnia and her sisters made + Most lubrical with their delicious milk, + +To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth + It would not reach, singing the holy smile + And how the holy aspect it illumed. + +And therefore, representing Paradise, + The sacred poem must perforce leap over, + Even as a man who finds his way cut off; + +But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, + And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, + Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. + +It is no passage for a little boat + This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, + Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. + +“Why doth my face so much enamour thee, + That to the garden fair thou turnest not, + Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming? + +There is the Rose in which the Word Divine + Became incarnate; there the lilies are + By whose perfume the good way was discovered.” + +Thus Beatrice; and I, who to her counsels + Was wholly ready, once again betook me + Unto the battle of the feeble brows. + +As in the sunshine, that unsullied streams + Through fractured cloud, ere now a meadow of flowers + Mine eyes with shadow covered o’er have seen, + +So troops of splendours manifold I saw + Illumined from above with burning rays, + Beholding not the source of the effulgence. + +O power benignant that dost so imprint them! + Thou didst exalt thyself to give more scope + There to mine eyes, that were not strong enough. + +The name of that fair flower I e’er invoke + Morning and evening utterly enthralled + My soul to gaze upon the greater fire. + +And when in both mine eyes depicted were + The glory and greatness of the living star + Which there excelleth, as it here excelled, + +Athwart the heavens a little torch descended + Formed in a circle like a coronal, + And cinctured it, and whirled itself about it. + +Whatever melody most sweetly soundeth + On earth, and to itself most draws the soul, + Would seem a cloud that, rent asunder, thunders, + +Compared unto the sounding of that lyre + Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful, + Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue. + +“I am Angelic Love, that circle round + The joy sublime which breathes from out the womb + That was the hostelry of our Desire; + +And I shall circle, Lady of Heaven, while + Thou followest thy Son, and mak’st diviner + The sphere supreme, because thou enterest there.” + +Thus did the circulated melody + Seal itself up; and all the other lights + Were making to resound the name of Mary. + +The regal mantle of the volumes all + Of that world, which most fervid is and living + With breath of God and with his works and ways, + +Extended over us its inner border, + So very distant, that the semblance of it + There where I was not yet appeared to me. + +Therefore mine eyes did not possess the power + Of following the incoronated flame, + Which mounted upward near to its own seed. + +And as a little child, that towards its mother + Stretches its arms, when it the milk has taken, + Through impulse kindled into outward flame, + +Each of those gleams of whiteness upward reached + So with its summit, that the deep affection + They had for Mary was revealed to me. + +Thereafter they remained there in my sight, + ‘Regina coeli’ singing with such sweetness, + That ne’er from me has the delight departed. + +O, what exuberance is garnered up + Within those richest coffers, which had been + Good husbandmen for sowing here below! + +There they enjoy and live upon the treasure + Which was acquired while weeping in the exile + Of Babylon, wherein the gold was left. + +There triumpheth, beneath the exalted Son + Of God and Mary, in his victory, + Both with the ancient council and the new, + +He who doth keep the keys of such a glory. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXIV + + +“O company elect to the great supper + Of the Lamb benedight, who feedeth you + So that for ever full is your desire, + +If by the grace of God this man foretaste + Something of that which falleth from your table, + Or ever death prescribe to him the time, + +Direct your mind to his immense desire, + And him somewhat bedew; ye drinking are + For ever at the fount whence comes his thought.” + +Thus Beatrice; and those souls beatified + Transformed themselves to spheres on steadfast poles, + Flaming intensely in the guise of comets. + +And as the wheels in works of horologes + Revolve so that the first to the beholder + Motionless seems, and the last one to fly, + +So in like manner did those carols, dancing + In different measure, of their affluence + Give me the gauge, as they were swift or slow. + +From that one which I noted of most beauty + Beheld I issue forth a fire so happy + That none it left there of a greater brightness; + +And around Beatrice three several times + It whirled itself with so divine a song, + My fantasy repeats it not to me; + +Therefore the pen skips, and I write it not, + Since our imagination for such folds, + Much more our speech, is of a tint too glaring. + +“O holy sister mine, who us implorest + With such devotion, by thine ardent love + Thou dost unbind me from that beautiful sphere!” + +Thereafter, having stopped, the blessed fire + Unto my Lady did direct its breath, + Which spake in fashion as I here have said. + +And she: “O light eterne of the great man + To whom our Lord delivered up the keys + He carried down of this miraculous joy, + +This one examine on points light and grave, + As good beseemeth thee, about the Faith + By means of which thou on the sea didst walk. + +If he love well, and hope well, and believe, + From thee ’tis hid not; for thou hast thy sight + There where depicted everything is seen. + +But since this kingdom has made citizens + By means of the true Faith, to glorify it + ’Tis well he have the chance to speak thereof.” + +As baccalaureate arms himself, and speaks not + Until the master doth propose the question, + To argue it, and not to terminate it, + +So did I arm myself with every reason, + While she was speaking, that I might be ready + For such a questioner and such profession. + +“Say, thou good Christian; manifest thyself; + What is the Faith?” Whereat I raised my brow + Unto that light wherefrom was this breathed forth. + +Then turned I round to Beatrice, and she + Prompt signals made to me that I should pour + The water forth from my internal fountain. + +“May grace, that suffers me to make confession,” + Began I, “to the great centurion, + Cause my conceptions all to be explicit!” + +And I continued: “As the truthful pen, + Father, of thy dear brother wrote of it, + Who put with thee Rome into the good way, + +Faith is the substance of the things we hope for, + And evidence of those that are not seen; + And this appears to me its quiddity.” + +Then heard I: “Very rightly thou perceivest, + If well thou understandest why he placed it + With substances and then with evidences.” + +And I thereafterward: “The things profound, + That here vouchsafe to me their apparition, + Unto all eyes below are so concealed, + +That they exist there only in belief, + Upon the which is founded the high hope, + And hence it takes the nature of a substance. + +And it behoveth us from this belief + To reason without having other sight, + And hence it has the nature of evidence.” + +Then heard I: “If whatever is acquired + Below by doctrine were thus understood, + No sophist’s subtlety would there find place.” + +Thus was breathed forth from that enkindled love; + Then added: “Very well has been gone over + Already of this coin the alloy and weight; + +But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse?” + And I: “Yes, both so shining and so round + That in its stamp there is no peradventure.” + +Thereafter issued from the light profound + That there resplendent was: “This precious jewel, + Upon the which is every virtue founded, + +Whence hadst thou it?” And I: “The large outpouring + Of Holy Spirit, which has been diffused + Upon the ancient parchments and the new, + +A syllogism is, which proved it to me + With such acuteness, that, compared therewith, + All demonstration seems to me obtuse.” + +And then I heard: “The ancient and the new + Postulates, that to thee are so conclusive, + Why dost thou take them for the word divine?” + +And I: “The proofs, which show the truth to me, + Are the works subsequent, whereunto Nature + Ne’er heated iron yet, nor anvil beat.” + +’Twas answered me: “Say, who assureth thee + That those works ever were? the thing itself + That must be proved, nought else to thee affirms it.” + +“Were the world to Christianity converted,” + I said, “withouten miracles, this one + Is such, the rest are not its hundredth part; + +Because that poor and fasting thou didst enter + Into the field to sow there the good plant, + Which was a vine and has become a thorn!” + +This being finished, the high, holy Court + Resounded through the spheres, “One God we praise!” + In melody that there above is chanted. + +And then that Baron, who from branch to branch, + Examining, had thus conducted me, + Till the extremest leaves we were approaching, + +Again began: “The Grace that dallying + Plays with thine intellect thy mouth has opened, + Up to this point, as it should opened be, + +So that I do approve what forth emerged; + But now thou must express what thou believest, + And whence to thy belief it was presented.” + +“O holy father, spirit who beholdest + What thou believedst so that thou o’ercamest, + Towards the sepulchre, more youthful feet,” + +Began I, “thou dost wish me in this place + The form to manifest of my prompt belief, + And likewise thou the cause thereof demandest. + +And I respond: In one God I believe, + Sole and eterne, who moveth all the heavens + With love and with desire, himself unmoved; + +And of such faith not only have I proofs + Physical and metaphysical, but gives them + Likewise the truth that from this place rains down + +Through Moses, through the Prophets and the Psalms, + Through the Evangel, and through you, who wrote + After the fiery Spirit sanctified you; + +In Persons three eterne believe, and these + One essence I believe, so one and trine + They bear conjunction both with ‘sunt’ and ‘est.’ + +With the profound condition and divine + Which now I touch upon, doth stamp my mind + Ofttimes the doctrine evangelical. + +This the beginning is, this is the spark + Which afterwards dilates to vivid flame, + And, like a star in heaven, is sparkling in me.” + +Even as a lord who hears what pleaseth him + His servant straight embraces, gratulating + For the good news as soon as he is silent; + +So, giving me its benediction, singing, + Three times encircled me, when I was silent, + The apostolic light, at whose command + +I spoken had, in speaking I so pleased him. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXV + + +If e’er it happen that the Poem Sacred, + To which both heaven and earth have set their hand, + So that it many a year hath made me lean, + +O’ercome the cruelty that bars me out + From the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered, + An enemy to the wolves that war upon it, + +With other voice forthwith, with other fleece + Poet will I return, and at my font + Baptismal will I take the laurel crown; + +Because into the Faith that maketh known + All souls to God there entered I, and then + Peter for her sake thus my brow encircled. + +Thereafterward towards us moved a light + Out of that band whence issued the first-fruits + Which of his vicars Christ behind him left, + +And then my Lady, full of ecstasy, + Said unto me: “Look, look! behold the Baron + For whom below Galicia is frequented.” + +In the same way as, when a dove alights + Near his companion, both of them pour forth, + Circling about and murmuring, their affection, + +So one beheld I by the other grand + Prince glorified to be with welcome greeted, + Lauding the food that there above is eaten. + +But when their gratulations were complete, + Silently ‘coram me’ each one stood still, + So incandescent it o’ercame my sight. + +Smiling thereafterwards, said Beatrice: + “Illustrious life, by whom the benefactions + Of our Basilica have been described, + +Make Hope resound within this altitude; + Thou knowest as oft thou dost personify it + As Jesus to the three gave greater clearness.”— + +“Lift up thy head, and make thyself assured; + For what comes hither from the mortal world + Must needs be ripened in our radiance.” + +This comfort came to me from the second fire; + Wherefore mine eyes I lifted to the hills, + Which bent them down before with too great weight. + +“Since, through his grace, our Emperor wills that thou + Shouldst find thee face to face, before thy death, + In the most secret chamber, with his Counts, + +So that, the truth beholden of this court, + Hope, which below there rightfully enamours, + Thereby thou strengthen in thyself and others, + +Say what it is, and how is flowering with it + Thy mind, and say from whence it came to thee.” + Thus did the second light again continue. + +And the Compassionate, who piloted + The plumage of my wings in such high flight, + Did in reply anticipate me thus: + +“No child whatever the Church Militant + Of greater hope possesses, as is written + In that Sun which irradiates all our band; + +Therefore it is conceded him from Egypt + To come into Jerusalem to see, + Or ever yet his warfare be completed. + +The two remaining points, that not for knowledge + Have been demanded, but that he report + How much this virtue unto thee is pleasing, + +To him I leave; for hard he will not find them, + Nor of self-praise; and let him answer them; + And may the grace of God in this assist him!” + +As a disciple, who his teacher follows, + Ready and willing, where he is expert, + That his proficiency may be displayed, + +“Hope,” said I, “is the certain expectation + Of future glory, which is the effect + Of grace divine and merit precedent. + +From many stars this light comes unto me; + But he instilled it first into my heart + Who was chief singer unto the chief captain. + +‘Sperent in te,’ in the high Theody + He sayeth, ‘those who know thy name;’ and who + Knoweth it not, if he my faith possess? + +Thou didst instil me, then, with his instilling + In the Epistle, so that I am full, + And upon others rain again your rain.” + +While I was speaking, in the living bosom + Of that combustion quivered an effulgence, + Sudden and frequent, in the guise of lightning; + +Then breathed: “The love wherewith I am inflamed + Towards the virtue still which followed me + Unto the palm and issue of the field, + +Wills that I breathe to thee that thou delight + In her; and grateful to me is thy telling + Whatever things Hope promises to thee.” + +And I: “The ancient Scriptures and the new + The mark establish, and this shows it me, + Of all the souls whom God hath made his friends. + +Isaiah saith, that each one garmented + In his own land shall be with twofold garments, + And his own land is this delightful life. + +Thy brother, too, far more explicitly, + There where he treateth of the robes of white, + This revelation manifests to us.” + +And first, and near the ending of these words, + “Sperent in te” from over us was heard, + To which responsive answered all the carols. + +Thereafterward a light among them brightened, + So that, if Cancer one such crystal had, + Winter would have a month of one sole day. + +And as uprises, goes, and enters the dance + A winsome maiden, only to do honour + To the new bride, and not from any failing, + +Even thus did I behold the brightened splendour + Approach the two, who in a wheel revolved + As was beseeming to their ardent love. + +Into the song and music there it entered; + And fixed on them my Lady kept her look, + Even as a bride silent and motionless. + +“This is the one who lay upon the breast + Of him our Pelican; and this is he + To the great office from the cross elected.” + +My Lady thus; but therefore none the more + Did move her sight from its attentive gaze + Before or afterward these words of hers. + +Even as a man who gazes, and endeavours + To see the eclipsing of the sun a little, + And who, by seeing, sightless doth become, + +So I became before that latest fire, + While it was said, “Why dost thou daze thyself + To see a thing which here hath no existence? + +Earth in the earth my body is, and shall be + With all the others there, until our number + With the eternal proposition tallies. + +With the two garments in the blessed cloister + Are the two lights alone that have ascended: + And this shalt thou take back into your world.” + +And at this utterance the flaming circle + Grew quiet, with the dulcet intermingling + Of sound that by the trinal breath was made, + +As to escape from danger or fatigue + The oars that erst were in the water beaten + Are all suspended at a whistle’s sound. + +Ah, how much in my mind was I disturbed, + When I turned round to look on Beatrice, + That her I could not see, although I was + +Close at her side and in the Happy World! + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXVI + + +While I was doubting for my vision quenched, + Out of the flame refulgent that had quenched it + Issued a breathing, that attentive made me, + +Saying: “While thou recoverest the sense + Of seeing which in me thou hast consumed, + ’Tis well that speaking thou shouldst compensate it. + +Begin then, and declare to what thy soul + Is aimed, and count it for a certainty, + Sight is in thee bewildered and not dead; + +Because the Lady, who through this divine + Region conducteth thee, has in her look + The power the hand of Ananias had.” + +I said: “As pleaseth her, or soon or late + Let the cure come to eyes that portals were + When she with fire I ever burn with entered. + +The Good, that gives contentment to this Court, + The Alpha and Omega is of all + The writing that love reads me low or loud.” + +The selfsame voice, that taken had from me + The terror of the sudden dazzlement, + To speak still farther put it in my thought; + +And said: “In verity with finer sieve + Behoveth thee to sift; thee it behoveth + To say who aimed thy bow at such a target.” + +And I: “By philosophic arguments, + And by authority that hence descends, + Such love must needs imprint itself in me; + +For Good, so far as good, when comprehended + Doth straight enkindle love, and so much greater + As more of goodness in itself it holds; + +Then to that Essence (whose is such advantage + That every good which out of it is found + Is nothing but a ray of its own light) + +More than elsewhither must the mind be moved + Of every one, in loving, who discerns + The truth in which this evidence is founded. + +Such truth he to my intellect reveals + Who demonstrates to me the primal love + Of all the sempiternal substances. + +The voice reveals it of the truthful Author, + Who says to Moses, speaking of Himself, + ‘I will make all my goodness pass before thee.’ + +Thou too revealest it to me, beginning + The loud Evangel, that proclaims the secret + Of heaven to earth above all other edict.” + +And I heard say: “By human intellect + And by authority concordant with it, + Of all thy loves reserve for God the highest. + +But say again if other cords thou feelest, + Draw thee towards Him, that thou mayst proclaim + With how many teeth this love is biting thee.” + +The holy purpose of the Eagle of Christ + Not latent was, nay, rather I perceived + Whither he fain would my profession lead. + +Therefore I recommenced: “All of those bites + Which have the power to turn the heart to God + Unto my charity have been concurrent. + +The being of the world, and my own being, + The death which He endured that I may live, + And that which all the faithful hope, as I do, + +With the forementioned vivid consciousness + Have drawn me from the sea of love perverse, + And of the right have placed me on the shore. + +The leaves, wherewith embowered is all the garden + Of the Eternal Gardener, do I love + As much as he has granted them of good.” + +As soon as I had ceased, a song most sweet + Throughout the heaven resounded, and my Lady + Said with the others, “Holy, holy, holy!” + +And as at some keen light one wakes from sleep + By reason of the visual spirit that runs + Unto the splendour passed from coat to coat, + +And he who wakes abhorreth what he sees, + So all unconscious is his sudden waking, + Until the judgment cometh to his aid, + +So from before mine eyes did Beatrice + Chase every mote with radiance of her own, + That cast its light a thousand miles and more. + +Whence better after than before I saw, + And in a kind of wonderment I asked + About a fourth light that I saw with us. + +And said my Lady: “There within those rays + Gazes upon its Maker the first soul + That ever the first virtue did create.” + +Even as the bough that downward bends its top + At transit of the wind, and then is lifted + By its own virtue, which inclines it upward, + +Likewise did I, the while that she was speaking, + Being amazed, and then I was made bold + By a desire to speak wherewith I burned. + +And I began: “O apple, that mature + Alone hast been produced, O ancient father, + To whom each wife is daughter and daughter-in-law, + +Devoutly as I can I supplicate thee + That thou wouldst speak to me; thou seest my wish; + And I, to hear thee quickly, speak it not.” + +Sometimes an animal, when covered, struggles + So that his impulse needs must be apparent, + By reason of the wrappage following it; + +And in like manner the primeval soul + Made clear to me athwart its covering + How jubilant it was to give me pleasure. + +Then breathed: “Without thy uttering it to me, + Thine inclination better I discern + Than thou whatever thing is surest to thee; + +For I behold it in the truthful mirror, + That of Himself all things parhelion makes, + And none makes Him parhelion of itself. + +Thou fain wouldst hear how long ago God placed me + Within the lofty garden, where this Lady + Unto so long a stairway thee disposed. + +And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure, + And of the great disdain the proper cause, + And the language that I used and that I made. + +Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree + Not in itself was cause of so great exile, + But solely the o’erstepping of the bounds. + +There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius, + Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits + Made by the sun, this Council I desired; + +And him I saw return to all the lights + Of his highway nine hundred times and thirty, + Whilst I upon the earth was tarrying. + +The language that I spake was quite extinct + Before that in the work interminable + The people under Nimrod were employed; + +For nevermore result of reasoning + (Because of human pleasure that doth change, + Obedient to the heavens) was durable. + +A natural action is it that man speaks; + But whether thus or thus, doth nature leave + To your own art, as seemeth best to you. + +Ere I descended to the infernal anguish, + ‘El’ was on earth the name of the Chief Good, + From whom comes all the joy that wraps me round + +‘Eli’ he then was called, and that is proper, + Because the use of men is like a leaf + On bough, which goeth and another cometh. + +Upon the mount that highest o’er the wave + Rises was I, in life or pure or sinful, + From the first hour to that which is the second, + +As the sun changes quadrant, to the sixth.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXVII + + +“Glory be to the Father, to the Son, + And Holy Ghost!” all Paradise began, + So that the melody inebriate made me. + +What I beheld seemed unto me a smile + Of the universe; for my inebriation + Found entrance through the hearing and the sight. + +O joy! O gladness inexpressible! + O perfect life of love and peacefulness! + O riches without hankering secure! + +Before mine eyes were standing the four torches + Enkindled, and the one that first had come + Began to make itself more luminous; + +And even such in semblance it became + As Jupiter would become, if he and Mars + Were birds, and they should interchange their feathers. + +That Providence, which here distributeth + Season and service, in the blessed choir + Had silence upon every side imposed. + +When I heard say: “If I my colour change, + Marvel not at it; for while I am speaking + Thou shalt behold all these their colour change. + +He who usurps upon the earth my place, + My place, my place, which vacant has become + Before the presence of the Son of God, + +Has of my cemetery made a sewer + Of blood and stench, whereby the Perverse One, + Who fell from here, below there is appeased!” + +With the same colour which, through sun adverse, + Painteth the clouds at evening or at morn, + Beheld I then the whole of heaven suffused. + +And as a modest woman, who abides + Sure of herself, and at another’s failing, + From listening only, timorous becomes, + +Even thus did Beatrice change countenance; + And I believe in heaven was such eclipse, + When suffered the supreme Omnipotence; + +Thereafterward proceeded forth his words + With voice so much transmuted from itself, + The very countenance was not more changed. + +“The spouse of Christ has never nurtured been + On blood of mine, of Linus and of Cletus, + To be made use of in acquest of gold; + +But in acquest of this delightful life + Sixtus and Pius, Urban and Calixtus, + After much lamentation, shed their blood. + +Our purpose was not, that on the right hand + Of our successors should in part be seated + The Christian folk, in part upon the other; + +Nor that the keys which were to me confided + Should e’er become the escutcheon on a banner, + That should wage war on those who are baptized; + +Nor I be made the figure of a seal + To privileges venal and mendacious, + Whereat I often redden and flash with fire. + +In garb of shepherds the rapacious wolves + Are seen from here above o’er all the pastures! + O wrath of God, why dost thou slumber still? + +To drink our blood the Caorsines and Gascons + Are making ready. O thou good beginning, + Unto how vile an end must thou needs fall! + +But the high Providence, that with Scipio + At Rome the glory of the world defended, + Will speedily bring aid, as I conceive; + +And thou, my son, who by thy mortal weight + Shalt down return again, open thy mouth; + What I conceal not, do not thou conceal.” + +As with its frozen vapours downward falls + In flakes our atmosphere, what time the horn + Of the celestial Goat doth touch the sun, + +Upward in such array saw I the ether + Become, and flaked with the triumphant vapours, + Which there together with us had remained. + +My sight was following up their semblances, + And followed till the medium, by excess, + The passing farther onward took from it; + +Whereat the Lady, who beheld me freed + From gazing upward, said to me: “Cast down + Thy sight, and see how far thou art turned round.” + +Since the first time that I had downward looked, + I saw that I had moved through the whole arc + Which the first climate makes from midst to end; + +So that I saw the mad track of Ulysses + Past Gades, and this side, well nigh the shore + Whereon became Europa a sweet burden. + +And of this threshing-floor the site to me + Were more unveiled, but the sun was proceeding + Under my feet, a sign and more removed. + +My mind enamoured, which is dallying + At all times with my Lady, to bring back + To her mine eyes was more than ever ardent. + +And if or Art or Nature has made bait + To catch the eyes and so possess the mind, + In human flesh or in its portraiture, + +All joined together would appear as nought + To the divine delight which shone upon me + When to her smiling face I turned me round. + +The virtue that her look endowed me with + From the fair nest of Leda tore me forth, + And up into the swiftest heaven impelled me. + +Its parts exceeding full of life and lofty + Are all so uniform, I cannot say + Which Beatrice selected for my place. + +But she, who was aware of my desire, + Began, the while she smiled so joyously + That God seemed in her countenance to rejoice: + +“The nature of that motion, which keeps quiet + The centre and all the rest about it moves, + From hence begins as from its starting point. + +And in this heaven there is no other Where + Than in the Mind Divine, wherein is kindled + The love that turns it, and the power it rains. + +Within a circle light and love embrace it, + Even as this doth the others, and that precinct + He who encircles it alone controls. + +Its motion is not by another meted, + But all the others measured are by this, + As ten is by the half and by the fifth. + +And in what manner time in such a pot + May have its roots, and in the rest its leaves, + Now unto thee can manifest be made. + +O Covetousness, that mortals dost ingulf + Beneath thee so, that no one hath the power + Of drawing back his eyes from out thy waves! + +Full fairly blossoms in mankind the will; + But the uninterrupted rain converts + Into abortive wildings the true plums. + +Fidelity and innocence are found + Only in children; afterwards they both + Take flight or e’er the cheeks with down are covered. + +One, while he prattles still, observes the fasts, + Who, when his tongue is loosed, forthwith devours + Whatever food under whatever moon; + +Another, while he prattles, loves and listens + Unto his mother, who when speech is perfect + Forthwith desires to see her in her grave. + +Even thus is swarthy made the skin so white + In its first aspect of the daughter fair + Of him who brings the morn, and leaves the night. + +Thou, that it may not be a marvel to thee, + Think that on earth there is no one who governs; + Whence goes astray the human family. + +Ere January be unwintered wholly + By the centesimal on earth neglected, + Shall these supernal circles roar so loud + +The tempest that has been so long awaited + Shall whirl the poops about where are the prows; + So that the fleet shall run its course direct, + +And the true fruit shall follow on the flower.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXVIII + + +After the truth against the present life + Of miserable mortals was unfolded + By her who doth imparadise my mind, + +As in a looking-glass a taper’s flame + He sees who from behind is lighted by it, + Before he has it in his sight or thought, + +And turns him round to see if so the glass + Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords + Therewith as doth a music with its metre, + +In similar wise my memory recollecteth + That I did, looking into those fair eyes, + Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me. + +And as I turned me round, and mine were touched + By that which is apparent in that volume, + Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, + +A point beheld I, that was raying out + Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles + Must close perforce before such great acuteness. + +And whatsoever star seems smallest here + Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it. + As one star with another star is placed. + +Perhaps at such a distance as appears + A halo cincturing the light that paints it, + When densest is the vapour that sustains it, + +Thus distant round the point a circle of fire + So swiftly whirled, that it would have surpassed + Whatever motion soonest girds the world; + +And this was by another circumcinct, + That by a third, the third then by a fourth, + By a fifth the fourth, and then by a sixth the fifth; + +The seventh followed thereupon in width + So ample now, that Juno’s messenger + Entire would be too narrow to contain it. + +Even so the eighth and ninth; and every one + More slowly moved, according as it was + In number distant farther from the first. + +And that one had its flame most crystalline + From which less distant was the stainless spark, + I think because more with its truth imbued. + +My Lady, who in my anxiety + Beheld me much perplexed, said: “From that point + Dependent is the heaven and nature all. + +Behold that circle most conjoined to it, + And know thou, that its motion is so swift + Through burning love whereby it is spurred on.” + +And I to her: “If the world were arranged + In the order which I see in yonder wheels, + What’s set before me would have satisfied me; + +But in the world of sense we can perceive + That evermore the circles are diviner + As they are from the centre more remote + +Wherefore if my desire is to be ended + In this miraculous and angelic temple, + That has for confines only love and light, + +To hear behoves me still how the example + And the exemplar go not in one fashion, + Since for myself in vain I contemplate it.” + +“If thine own fingers unto such a knot + Be insufficient, it is no great wonder, + So hard hath it become for want of trying.” + +My Lady thus; then said she: “Do thou take + What I shall tell thee, if thou wouldst be sated, + And exercise on that thy subtlety. + +The circles corporal are wide and narrow + According to the more or less of virtue + Which is distributed through all their parts. + +The greater goodness works the greater weal, + The greater weal the greater body holds, + If perfect equally are all its parts. + +Therefore this one which sweeps along with it + The universe sublime, doth correspond + Unto the circle which most loves and knows. + +On which account, if thou unto the virtue + Apply thy measure, not to the appearance + Of substances that unto thee seem round, + +Thou wilt behold a marvellous agreement, + Of more to greater, and of less to smaller, + In every heaven, with its Intelligence.” + +Even as remaineth splendid and serene + The hemisphere of air, when Boreas + Is blowing from that cheek where he is mildest, + +Because is purified and resolved the rack + That erst disturbed it, till the welkin laughs + With all the beauties of its pageantry; + +Thus did I likewise, after that my Lady + Had me provided with her clear response, + And like a star in heaven the truth was seen. + +And soon as to a stop her words had come, + Not otherwise does iron scintillate + When molten, than those circles scintillated. + +Their coruscation all the sparks repeated, + And they so many were, their number makes + More millions than the doubling of the chess. + +I heard them sing hosanna choir by choir + To the fixed point which holds them at the ‘Ubi,’ + And ever will, where they have ever been. + +And she, who saw the dubious meditations + Within my mind, “The primal circles,” said, + “Have shown thee Seraphim and Cherubim. + +Thus rapidly they follow their own bonds, + To be as like the point as most they can, + And can as far as they are high in vision. + +Those other Loves, that round about them go, + Thrones of the countenance divine are called, + Because they terminate the primal Triad. + +And thou shouldst know that they all have delight + As much as their own vision penetrates + The Truth, in which all intellect finds rest. + +From this it may be seen how blessedness + Is founded in the faculty which sees, + And not in that which loves, and follows next; + +And of this seeing merit is the measure, + Which is brought forth by grace, and by good will; + Thus on from grade to grade doth it proceed. + +The second Triad, which is germinating + In such wise in this sempiternal spring, + That no nocturnal Aries despoils, + +Perpetually hosanna warbles forth + With threefold melody, that sounds in three + Orders of joy, with which it is intrined. + +The three Divine are in this hierarchy, + First the Dominions, and the Virtues next; + And the third order is that of the Powers. + +Then in the dances twain penultimate + The Principalities and Archangels wheel; + The last is wholly of angelic sports. + +These orders upward all of them are gazing, + And downward so prevail, that unto God + They all attracted are and all attract. + +And Dionysius with so great desire + To contemplate these Orders set himself, + He named them and distinguished them as I do. + +But Gregory afterwards dissented from him; + Wherefore, as soon as he unclosed his eyes + Within this heaven, he at himself did smile. + +And if so much of secret truth a mortal + Proffered on earth, I would not have thee marvel, + For he who saw it here revealed it to him, + +With much more of the truth about these circles.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXIX + + +At what time both the children of Latona, + Surmounted by the Ram and by the Scales, + Together make a zone of the horizon, + +As long as from the time the zenith holds them + In equipoise, till from that girdle both + Changing their hemisphere disturb the balance, + +So long, her face depicted with a smile, + Did Beatrice keep silence while she gazed + Fixedly at the point which had o’ercome me. + +Then she began: “I say, and I ask not + What thou dost wish to hear, for I have seen it + Where centres every When and every ‘Ubi.’ + +Not to acquire some good unto himself, + Which is impossible, but that his splendour + In its resplendency may say, ‘Subsisto,’ + +In his eternity outside of time, + Outside all other limits, as it pleased him, + Into new Loves the Eternal Love unfolded. + +Nor as if torpid did he lie before; + For neither after nor before proceeded + The going forth of God upon these waters. + +Matter and Form unmingled and conjoined + Came into being that had no defect, + E’en as three arrows from a three-stringed bow. + +And as in glass, in amber, or in crystal + A sunbeam flashes so, that from its coming + To its full being is no interval, + +So from its Lord did the triform effect + Ray forth into its being all together, + Without discrimination of beginning. + +Order was con-created and constructed + In substances, and summit of the world + Were those wherein the pure act was produced. + +Pure potentiality held the lowest part; + Midway bound potentiality with act + Such bond that it shall never be unbound. + +Jerome has written unto you of angels + Created a long lapse of centuries + Or ever yet the other world was made; + +But written is this truth in many places + By writers of the Holy Ghost, and thou + Shalt see it, if thou lookest well thereat. + +And even reason seeth it somewhat, + For it would not concede that for so long + Could be the motors without their perfection. + +Now dost thou know both where and when these Loves + Created were, and how; so that extinct + In thy desire already are three fires. + +Nor could one reach, in counting, unto twenty + So swiftly, as a portion of these angels + Disturbed the subject of your elements. + +The rest remained, and they began this art + Which thou discernest, with so great delight + That never from their circling do they cease. + +The occasion of the fall was the accursed + Presumption of that One, whom thou hast seen + By all the burden of the world constrained. + +Those whom thou here beholdest modest were + To recognise themselves as of that goodness + Which made them apt for so much understanding; + +On which account their vision was exalted + By the enlightening grace and their own merit, + So that they have a full and steadfast will. + +I would not have thee doubt, but certain be, + ’Tis meritorious to receive this grace, + According as the affection opens to it. + +Now round about in this consistory + Much mayst thou contemplate, if these my words + Be gathered up, without all further aid. + +But since upon the earth, throughout your schools, + They teach that such is the angelic nature + That it doth hear, and recollect, and will, + +More will I say, that thou mayst see unmixed + The truth that is confounded there below, + Equivocating in such like prelections. + +These substances, since in God’s countenance + They jocund were, turned not away their sight + From that wherefrom not anything is hidden; + +Hence they have not their vision intercepted + By object new, and hence they do not need + To recollect, through interrupted thought. + +So that below, not sleeping, people dream, + Believing they speak truth, and not believing; + And in the last is greater sin and shame. + +Below you do not journey by one path + Philosophising; so transporteth you + Love of appearance and the thought thereof. + +And even this above here is endured + With less disdain, than when is set aside + The Holy Writ, or when it is distorted. + +They think not there how much of blood it costs + To sow it in the world, and how he pleases + Who in humility keeps close to it. + +Each striveth for appearance, and doth make + His own inventions; and these treated are + By preachers, and the Evangel holds its peace. + +One sayeth that the moon did backward turn, + In the Passion of Christ, and interpose herself + So that the sunlight reached not down below; + +And lies; for of its own accord the light + Hid itself; whence to Spaniards and to Indians, + As to the Jews, did such eclipse respond. + +Florence has not so many Lapi and Bindi + As fables such as these, that every year + Are shouted from the pulpit back and forth, + +In such wise that the lambs, who do not know, + Come back from pasture fed upon the wind, + And not to see the harm doth not excuse them. + +Christ did not to his first disciples say, + ‘Go forth, and to the world preach idle tales,’ + But unto them a true foundation gave; + +And this so loudly sounded from their lips, + That, in the warfare to enkindle Faith, + They made of the Evangel shields and lances. + +Now men go forth with jests and drolleries + To preach, and if but well the people laugh, + The hood puffs out, and nothing more is asked. + +But in the cowl there nestles such a bird, + That, if the common people were to see it, + They would perceive what pardons they confide in, + +For which so great on earth has grown the folly, + That, without proof of any testimony, + To each indulgence they would flock together. + +By this Saint Anthony his pig doth fatten, + And many others, who are worse than pigs, + Paying in money without mark of coinage. + +But since we have digressed abundantly, + Turn back thine eyes forthwith to the right path, + So that the way be shortened with the time. + +This nature doth so multiply itself + In numbers, that there never yet was speech + Nor mortal fancy that can go so far. + +And if thou notest that which is revealed + By Daniel, thou wilt see that in his thousands + Number determinate is kept concealed. + +The primal light, that all irradiates it, + By modes as many is received therein, + As are the splendours wherewith it is mated. + +Hence, inasmuch as on the act conceptive + The affection followeth, of love the sweetness + Therein diversely fervid is or tepid. + +The height behold now and the amplitude + Of the eternal power, since it hath made + Itself so many mirrors, where ’tis broken, + +One in itself remaining as before.” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXX + + +Perchance six thousand miles remote from us + Is glowing the sixth hour, and now this world + Inclines its shadow almost to a level, + +When the mid-heaven begins to make itself + So deep to us, that here and there a star + Ceases to shine so far down as this depth, + +And as advances bright exceedingly + The handmaid of the sun, the heaven is closed + Light after light to the most beautiful; + +Not otherwise the Triumph, which for ever + Plays round about the point that vanquished me, + Seeming enclosed by what itself encloses, + +Little by little from my vision faded; + Whereat to turn mine eyes on Beatrice + My seeing nothing and my love constrained me. + +If what has hitherto been said of her + Were all concluded in a single praise, + Scant would it be to serve the present turn. + +Not only does the beauty I beheld + Transcend ourselves, but truly I believe + Its Maker only may enjoy it all. + +Vanquished do I confess me by this passage + More than by problem of his theme was ever + O’ercome the comic or the tragic poet; + +For as the sun the sight that trembles most, + Even so the memory of that sweet smile + My mind depriveth of its very self. + +From the first day that I beheld her face + In this life, to the moment of this look, + The sequence of my song has ne’er been severed; + +But now perforce this sequence must desist + From following her beauty with my verse, + As every artist at his uttermost. + +Such as I leave her to a greater fame + Than any of my trumpet, which is bringing + Its arduous matter to a final close, + +With voice and gesture of a perfect leader + She recommenced: “We from the greatest body + Have issued to the heaven that is pure light; + +Light intellectual replete with love, + Love of true good replete with ecstasy, + Ecstasy that transcendeth every sweetness. + +Here shalt thou see the one host and the other + Of Paradise, and one in the same aspects + Which at the final judgment thou shalt see.” + +Even as a sudden lightning that disperses + The visual spirits, so that it deprives + The eye of impress from the strongest objects, + +Thus round about me flashed a living light, + And left me swathed around with such a veil + Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw. + +“Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven + Welcomes into itself with such salute, + To make the candle ready for its flame.” + +No sooner had within me these brief words + An entrance found, than I perceived myself + To be uplifted over my own power, + +And I with vision new rekindled me, + Such that no light whatever is so pure + But that mine eyes were fortified against it. + +And light I saw in fashion of a river + Fulvid with its effulgence, ’twixt two banks + Depicted with an admirable Spring. + +Out of this river issued living sparks, + And on all sides sank down into the flowers, + Like unto rubies that are set in gold; + +And then, as if inebriate with the odours, + They plunged again into the wondrous torrent, + And as one entered issued forth another. + +“The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee + To have intelligence of what thou seest, + Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells. + +But of this water it behoves thee drink + Before so great a thirst in thee be slaked.” + Thus said to me the sunshine of mine eyes; + +And added: “The river and the topazes + Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage, + Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces; + +Not that these things are difficult in themselves, + But the deficiency is on thy side, + For yet thou hast not vision so exalted.” + +There is no babe that leaps so suddenly + With face towards the milk, if he awake + Much later than his usual custom is, + +As I did, that I might make better mirrors + Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave + Which flows that we therein be better made. + +And even as the penthouse of mine eyelids + Drank of it, it forthwith appeared to me + Out of its length to be transformed to round. + +Then as a folk who have been under masks + Seem other than before, if they divest + The semblance not their own they disappeared in, + +Thus into greater pomp were changed for me + The flowerets and the sparks, so that I saw + Both of the Courts of Heaven made manifest. + +O splendour of God! by means of which I saw + The lofty triumph of the realm veracious, + Give me the power to say how it I saw! + +There is a light above, which visible + Makes the Creator unto every creature, + Who only in beholding Him has peace, + +And it expands itself in circular form + To such extent, that its circumference + Would be too large a girdle for the sun. + +The semblance of it is all made of rays + Reflected from the top of Primal Motion, + Which takes therefrom vitality and power. + +And as a hill in water at its base + Mirrors itself, as if to see its beauty + When affluent most in verdure and in flowers, + +So, ranged aloft all round about the light, + Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand + All who above there have from us returned. + +And if the lowest row collect within it + So great a light, how vast the amplitude + Is of this Rose in its extremest leaves! + +My vision in the vastness and the height + Lost not itself, but comprehended all + The quantity and quality of that gladness. + +There near and far nor add nor take away; + For there where God immediately doth govern, + The natural law in naught is relevant. + +Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal + That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour + Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun, + +As one who silent is and fain would speak, + Me Beatrice drew on, and said: “Behold + Of the white stoles how vast the convent is! + +Behold how vast the circuit of our city! + Behold our seats so filled to overflowing, + That here henceforward are few people wanting! + +On that great throne whereon thine eyes are fixed + For the crown’s sake already placed upon it, + Before thou suppest at this wedding feast + +Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus + On earth) of noble Henry, who shall come + To redress Italy ere she be ready. + +Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you, + Has made you like unto the little child, + Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse. + +And in the sacred forum then shall be + A Prefect such, that openly or covert + On the same road he will not walk with him. + +But long of God he will not be endured + In holy office; he shall be thrust down + Where Simon Magus is for his deserts, + +And make him of Alagna lower go!” + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXXI + + +In fashion then as of a snow-white rose + Displayed itself to me the saintly host, + Whom Christ in his own blood had made his bride, + +But the other host, that flying sees and sings + The glory of Him who doth enamour it, + And the goodness that created it so noble, + +Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers + One moment, and the next returns again + To where its labour is to sweetness turned, + +Sank into the great flower, that is adorned + With leaves so many, and thence reascended + To where its love abideth evermore. + +Their faces had they all of living flame, + And wings of gold, and all the rest so white + No snow unto that limit doth attain. + +From bench to bench, into the flower descending, + They carried something of the peace and ardour + Which by the fanning of their flanks they won. + +Nor did the interposing ’twixt the flower + And what was o’er it of such plenitude + Of flying shapes impede the sight and splendour; + +Because the light divine so penetrates + The universe, according to its merit, + That naught can be an obstacle against it. + +This realm secure and full of gladsomeness, + Crowded with ancient people and with modern, + Unto one mark had all its look and love. + +O Trinal Light, that in a single star + Sparkling upon their sight so satisfies them, + Look down upon our tempest here below! + +If the barbarians, coming from some region + That every day by Helice is covered, + Revolving with her son whom she delights in, + +Beholding Rome and all her noble works, + Were wonder-struck, what time the Lateran + Above all mortal things was eminent,— + +I who to the divine had from the human, + From time unto eternity, had come, + From Florence to a people just and sane, + +With what amazement must I have been filled! + Truly between this and the joy, it was + My pleasure not to hear, and to be mute. + +And as a pilgrim who delighteth him + In gazing round the temple of his vow, + And hopes some day to retell how it was, + +So through the living light my way pursuing + Directed I mine eyes o’er all the ranks, + Now up, now down, and now all round about. + +Faces I saw of charity persuasive, + Embellished by His light and their own smile, + And attitudes adorned with every grace. + +The general form of Paradise already + My glance had comprehended as a whole, + In no part hitherto remaining fixed, + +And round I turned me with rekindled wish + My Lady to interrogate of things + Concerning which my mind was in suspense. + +One thing I meant, another answered me; + I thought I should see Beatrice, and saw + An Old Man habited like the glorious people. + +O’erflowing was he in his eyes and cheeks + With joy benign, in attitude of pity + As to a tender father is becoming. + +And “She, where is she?” instantly I said; + Whence he: “To put an end to thy desire, + Me Beatrice hath sent from mine own place. + +And if thou lookest up to the third round + Of the first rank, again shalt thou behold her + Upon the throne her merits have assigned her.” + +Without reply I lifted up mine eyes, + And saw her, as she made herself a crown + Reflecting from herself the eternal rays. + +Not from that region which the highest thunders + Is any mortal eye so far removed, + In whatsoever sea it deepest sinks, + +As there from Beatrice my sight; but this + Was nothing unto me; because her image + Descended not to me by medium blurred. + +“O Lady, thou in whom my hope is strong, + And who for my salvation didst endure + In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet, + +Of whatsoever things I have beheld, + As coming from thy power and from thy goodness + I recognise the virtue and the grace. + +Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom, + By all those ways, by all the expedients, + Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it. + +Preserve towards me thy magnificence, + So that this soul of mine, which thou hast healed, + Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body.” + +Thus I implored; and she, so far away, + Smiled, as it seemed, and looked once more at me; + Then unto the eternal fountain turned. + +And said the Old Man holy: “That thou mayst + Accomplish perfectly thy journeying, + Whereunto prayer and holy love have sent me, + +Fly with thine eyes all round about this garden; + For seeing it will discipline thy sight + Farther to mount along the ray divine. + +And she, the Queen of Heaven, for whom I burn + Wholly with love, will grant us every grace, + Because that I her faithful Bernard am.” + +As he who peradventure from Croatia + Cometh to gaze at our Veronica, + Who through its ancient fame is never sated, + +But says in thought, the while it is displayed, + “My Lord, Christ Jesus, God of very God, + Now was your semblance made like unto this?” + +Even such was I while gazing at the living + Charity of the man, who in this world + By contemplation tasted of that peace. + +“Thou son of grace, this jocund life,” began he, + “Will not be known to thee by keeping ever + Thine eyes below here on the lowest place; + +But mark the circles to the most remote, + Until thou shalt behold enthroned the Queen + To whom this realm is subject and devoted.” + +I lifted up mine eyes, and as at morn + The oriental part of the horizon + Surpasses that wherein the sun goes down, + +Thus, as if going with mine eyes from vale + To mount, I saw a part in the remoteness + Surpass in splendour all the other front. + +And even as there where we await the pole + That Phaeton drove badly, blazes more + The light, and is on either side diminished, + +So likewise that pacific oriflamme + Gleamed brightest in the centre, and each side + In equal measure did the flame abate. + +And at that centre, with their wings expanded, + More than a thousand jubilant Angels saw I, + Each differing in effulgence and in kind. + +I saw there at their sports and at their songs + A beauty smiling, which the gladness was + Within the eyes of all the other saints; + +And if I had in speaking as much wealth + As in imagining, I should not dare + To attempt the smallest part of its delight. + +Bernard, as soon as he beheld mine eyes + Fixed and intent upon its fervid fervour, + His own with such affection turned to her + +That it made mine more ardent to behold. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXXII + + +Absorbed in his delight, that contemplator + Assumed the willing office of a teacher, + And gave beginning to these holy words: + +“The wound that Mary closed up and anointed, + She at her feet who is so beautiful, + She is the one who opened it and pierced it. + +Within that order which the third seats make + Is seated Rachel, lower than the other, + With Beatrice, in manner as thou seest. + +Sarah, Rebecca, Judith, and her who was + Ancestress of the Singer, who for dole + Of the misdeed said, ‘Miserere mei,’ + +Canst thou behold from seat to seat descending + Down in gradation, as with each one’s name + I through the Rose go down from leaf to leaf. + +And downward from the seventh row, even as + Above the same, succeed the Hebrew women, + Dividing all the tresses of the flower; + +Because, according to the view which Faith + In Christ had taken, these are the partition + By which the sacred stairways are divided. + +Upon this side, where perfect is the flower + With each one of its petals, seated are + Those who believed in Christ who was to come. + +Upon the other side, where intersected + With vacant spaces are the semicircles, + Are those who looked to Christ already come. + +And as, upon this side, the glorious seat + Of the Lady of Heaven, and the other seats + Below it, such a great division make, + +So opposite doth that of the great John, + Who, ever holy, desert and martyrdom + Endured, and afterwards two years in Hell. + +And under him thus to divide were chosen + Francis, and Benedict, and Augustine, + And down to us the rest from round to round. + +Behold now the high providence divine; + For one and other aspect of the Faith + In equal measure shall this garden fill. + +And know that downward from that rank which cleaves + Midway the sequence of the two divisions, + Not by their proper merit are they seated; + +But by another’s under fixed conditions; + For these are spirits one and all assoiled + Before they any true election had. + +Well canst thou recognise it in their faces, + And also in their voices puerile, + If thou regard them well and hearken to them. + +Now doubtest thou, and doubting thou art silent; + But I will loosen for thee the strong bond + In which thy subtile fancies hold thee fast. + +Within the amplitude of this domain + No casual point can possibly find place, + No more than sadness can, or thirst, or hunger; + +For by eternal law has been established + Whatever thou beholdest, so that closely + The ring is fitted to the finger here. + +And therefore are these people, festinate + Unto true life, not ‘sine causa’ here + More and less excellent among themselves. + +The King, by means of whom this realm reposes + In so great love and in so great delight + That no will ventureth to ask for more, + +In his own joyous aspect every mind + Creating, at his pleasure dowers with grace + Diversely; and let here the effect suffice. + +And this is clearly and expressly noted + For you in Holy Scripture, in those twins + Who in their mother had their anger roused. + +According to the colour of the hair, + Therefore, with such a grace the light supreme + Consenteth that they worthily be crowned. + +Without, then, any merit of their deeds, + Stationed are they in different gradations, + Differing only in their first acuteness. + +’Tis true that in the early centuries, + With innocence, to work out their salvation + Sufficient was the faith of parents only. + +After the earlier ages were completed, + Behoved it that the males by circumcision + Unto their innocent wings should virtue add; + +But after that the time of grace had come + Without the baptism absolute of Christ, + Such innocence below there was retained. + +Look now into the face that unto Christ + Hath most resemblance; for its brightness only + Is able to prepare thee to see Christ.” + +On her did I behold so great a gladness + Rain down, borne onward in the holy minds + Created through that altitude to fly, + +That whatsoever I had seen before + Did not suspend me in such admiration, + Nor show me such similitude of God. + +And the same Love that first descended there, + “Ave Maria, gratia plena,” singing, + In front of her his wings expanded wide. + +Unto the canticle divine responded + From every part the court beatified, + So that each sight became serener for it. + +“O holy father, who for me endurest + To be below here, leaving the sweet place + In which thou sittest by eternal lot, + +Who is the Angel that with so much joy + Into the eyes is looking of our Queen, + Enamoured so that he seems made of fire?” + +Thus I again recourse had to the teaching + Of that one who delighted him in Mary + As doth the star of morning in the sun. + +And he to me: “Such gallantry and grace + As there can be in Angel and in soul, + All is in him; and thus we fain would have it; + +Because he is the one who bore the palm + Down unto Mary, when the Son of God + To take our burden on himself decreed. + +But now come onward with thine eyes, as I + Speaking shall go, and note the great patricians + Of this most just and merciful of empires. + +Those two that sit above there most enrapture + As being very near unto Augusta, + Are as it were the two roots of this Rose. + +He who upon the left is near her placed + The father is, by whose audacious taste + The human species so much bitter tastes. + +Upon the right thou seest that ancient father + Of Holy Church, into whose keeping Christ + The keys committed of this lovely flower. + +And he who all the evil days beheld, + Before his death, of her the beauteous bride + Who with the spear and with the nails was won, + +Beside him sits, and by the other rests + That leader under whom on manna lived + The people ingrate, fickle, and stiff-necked. + +Opposite Peter seest thou Anna seated, + So well content to look upon her daughter, + Her eyes she moves not while she sings Hosanna. + +And opposite the eldest household father + Lucia sits, she who thy Lady moved + When to rush downward thou didst bend thy brows. + +But since the moments of thy vision fly, + Here will we make full stop, as a good tailor + Who makes the gown according to his cloth, + +And unto the first Love will turn our eyes, + That looking upon Him thou penetrate + As far as possible through his effulgence. + +Truly, lest peradventure thou recede, + Moving thy wings believing to advance, + By prayer behoves it that grace be obtained; + +Grace from that one who has the power to aid thee; + And thou shalt follow me with thy affection + That from my words thy heart turn not aside.” + +And he began this holy orison. + + + + +Paradiso: Canto XXXIII + + +“Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, + Humble and high beyond all other creature, + The limit fixed of the eternal counsel, + +Thou art the one who such nobility + To human nature gave, that its Creator + Did not disdain to make himself its creature. + +Within thy womb rekindled was the love, + By heat of which in the eternal peace + After such wise this flower has germinated. + +Here unto us thou art a noonday torch + Of charity, and below there among mortals + Thou art the living fountain-head of hope. + +Lady, thou art so great, and so prevailing, + That he who wishes grace, nor runs to thee, + His aspirations without wings would fly. + +Not only thy benignity gives succour + To him who asketh it, but oftentimes + Forerunneth of its own accord the asking. + +In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, + In thee magnificence; in thee unites + Whate’er of goodness is in any creature. + +Now doth this man, who from the lowest depth + Of the universe as far as here has seen + One after one the spiritual lives, + +Supplicate thee through grace for so much power + That with his eyes he may uplift himself + Higher towards the uttermost salvation. + +And I, who never burned for my own seeing + More than I do for his, all of my prayers + Proffer to thee, and pray they come not short, + +That thou wouldst scatter from him every cloud + Of his mortality so with thy prayers, + That the Chief Pleasure be to him displayed. + +Still farther do I pray thee, Queen, who canst + Whate’er thou wilt, that sound thou mayst preserve + After so great a vision his affections. + +Let thy protection conquer human movements; + See Beatrice and all the blessed ones + My prayers to second clasp their hands to thee!” + +The eyes beloved and revered of God, + Fastened upon the speaker, showed to us + How grateful unto her are prayers devout; + +Then unto the Eternal Light they turned, + On which it is not credible could be + By any creature bent an eye so clear. + +And I, who to the end of all desires + Was now approaching, even as I ought + The ardour of desire within me ended. + +Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling, + That I should upward look; but I already + Was of my own accord such as he wished; + +Because my sight, becoming purified, + Was entering more and more into the ray + Of the High Light which of itself is true. + +From that time forward what I saw was greater + Than our discourse, that to such vision yields, + And yields the memory unto such excess. + +Even as he is who seeth in a dream, + And after dreaming the imprinted passion + Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not, + +Even such am I, for almost utterly + Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet + Within my heart the sweetness born of it; + +Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed, + Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves + Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost. + +O Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift thee + From the conceits of mortals, to my mind + Of what thou didst appear re-lend a little, + +And make my tongue of so great puissance, + That but a single sparkle of thy glory + It may bequeath unto the future people; + +For by returning to my memory somewhat, + And by a little sounding in these verses, + More of thy victory shall be conceived! + +I think the keenness of the living ray + Which I endured would have bewildered me, + If but mine eyes had been averted from it; + +And I remember that I was more bold + On this account to bear, so that I joined + My aspect with the Glory Infinite. + +O grace abundant, by which I presumed + To fix my sight upon the Light Eternal, + So that the seeing I consumed therein! + +I saw that in its depth far down is lying + Bound up with love together in one volume, + What through the universe in leaves is scattered; + +Substance, and accident, and their operations, + All interfused together in such wise + That what I speak of is one simple light. + +The universal fashion of this knot + Methinks I saw, since more abundantly + In saying this I feel that I rejoice. + +One moment is more lethargy to me, + Than five and twenty centuries to the emprise + That startled Neptune with the shade of Argo! + +My mind in this wise wholly in suspense, + Steadfast, immovable, attentive gazed, + And evermore with gazing grew enkindled. + +In presence of that light one such becomes, + That to withdraw therefrom for other prospect + It is impossible he e’er consent; + +Because the good, which object is of will, + Is gathered all in this, and out of it + That is defective which is perfect there. + +Shorter henceforward will my language fall + Of what I yet remember, than an infant’s + Who still his tongue doth moisten at the breast. + +Not because more than one unmingled semblance + Was in the living light on which I looked, + For it is always what it was before; + +But through the sight, that fortified itself + In me by looking, one appearance only + To me was ever changing as I changed. + +Within the deep and luminous subsistence + Of the High Light appeared to me three circles, + Of threefold colour and of one dimension, + +And by the second seemed the first reflected + As Iris is by Iris, and the third + Seemed fire that equally from both is breathed. + +O how all speech is feeble and falls short + Of my conceit, and this to what I saw + Is such, ’tis not enough to call it little! + +O Light Eterne, sole in thyself that dwellest, + Sole knowest thyself, and, known unto thyself + And knowing, lovest and smilest on thyself! + +That circulation, which being thus conceived + Appeared in thee as a reflected light, + When somewhat contemplated by mine eyes, + +Within itself, of its own very colour + Seemed to me painted with our effigy, + Wherefore my sight was all absorbed therein. + +As the geometrician, who endeavours + To square the circle, and discovers not, + By taking thought, the principle he wants, + +Even such was I at that new apparition; + I wished to see how the image to the circle + Conformed itself, and how it there finds place; + +But my own wings were not enough for this, + Had it not been that then my mind there smote + A flash of lightning, wherein came its wish. + +Here vigour failed the lofty fantasy: + But now was turning my desire and will, + Even as a wheel that equally is moved, + +The Love which moves the sun and the other stars. + + + + +APPENDIX + +SIX SONNETS ON DANTE’S DIVINE COMEDY BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW +(1807-1882) + + +I + +Oft have I seen at some cathedral door + A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, + Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet + Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor +Kneel to repeat his paternoster o’er; + Far off the noises of the world retreat; + The loud vociferations of the street + Become an undistinguishable roar. +So, as I enter here from day to day, + And leave my burden at this minster gate, + Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, +The tumult of the time disconsolate + To inarticulate murmurs dies away, + While the eternal ages watch and wait. + + +II + +How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers! + This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves + Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves + Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, +And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers! + But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves + Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, + And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers! +Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain, + What exultations trampling on despair, + What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong, +What passionate outcry of a soul in pain, + Uprose this poem of the earth and air, + This mediaeval miracle of song! + + +III + +I enter, and I see thee in the gloom + Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine! + And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. + The air is filled with some unknown perfume; +The congregation of the dead make room + For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; + Like rooks that haunt Ravenna’s groves of pine, + The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. +From the confessionals I hear arise + Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, + And lamentations from the crypts below +And then a voice celestial that begins + With the pathetic words, “Although your sins + As scarlet be,” and ends with “as the snow.” + + +IV + +With snow-white veil, and garments as of flame, + She stands before thee, who so long ago + Filled thy young heart with passion and the woe + From which thy song in all its splendors came; +And while with stern rebuke she speaks thy name, + The ice about thy heart melts as the snow + On mountain heights, and in swift overflow + Comes gushing from thy lips in sobs of shame. +Thou makest full confession; and a gleam + As of the dawn on some dark forest cast, + Seems on thy lifted forehead to increase; +Lethe and Eunoe—the remembered dream + And the forgotten sorrow—bring at last + That perfect pardon which is perfect peace. + + +V + +I Lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze + With forms of saints and holy men who died, + Here martyred and hereafter glorified; + And the great Rose upon its leaves displays +Christ’s Triumph, and the angelic roundelays, + With splendor upon splendor multiplied; + And Beatrice again at Dante’s side + No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise. +And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs + Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love + And benedictions of the Holy Ghost; +And the melodious bells among the spires + O’er all the house-tops and through heaven above + Proclaim the elevation of the Host! + + +VI + +O star of morning and of liberty! + O bringer of the light, whose splendor shines + Above the darkness of the Apennines, + Forerunner of the day that is to be! +The voices of the city and the sea, + The voices of the mountains and the pines, + Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines + Are footpaths for the thought of Italy! +Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights, + Through all the nations; and a sound is heard, + As of a mighty wind, and men devout, +Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, + In their own language hear thy wondrous word, + And many are amazed and many doubt. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1004 *** |