Greco-Christian stream·Divine Comedy·Inferno·Inferno · Canto 34

Source context

Theme

Satan at the nadir of creation — the tri-faced imprisoner of Judas, Brutus, and Cassius, and the inverted axis through which Dante and Virgil exit Hell into the southern hemisphere

Soul-faculty

Consciousness Soul

Steiner

• GA 95, 1906-09-04Steiner cites Inferno Canto 32 — the frozen lake immediately preceding Canto 34's Satan — in the context of describing the interior of the earth as a domain of hardened, sub-physical forces, structurally congruent with the anthroposophical teaching on the earth's sub-earthly layers.
• GA 97, 1906-02-11Steiner references multiple cantos of the Inferno as initiatory cartography in his lecture on the Christian Mystery, treating Dante's Hell as a clairvoyant rendering of sub-physical and sub-moral realms rather than dogmatic theology.
• GA 59, 1910-05-12Steiner describes Dante's three-stage journey — Inferno, Purgatory, Paradise — as a spiritual-artistic depiction of supersensible worlds, indicating that the Inferno's culmination in Satan represents the lowest pole of the soul's cosmological orientation.

Cross-tradition

• Kabbalistic cosmology (Qliphoth)The tri-faced Satan enthroned at earth's centre shows cross-tradition congruence with the Kabbalistic qliphothic realm as the inverted Tree of Life, where demonic triplicities mirror and negate the divine sefirot above.
• Hermetic axis mundi (Hermetic-Neoplatonic tradition)Dante's passage through Satan's body as a cosmic turning-point — reversing gravity and emerging into the antipodal hemisphere — shows cross-tradition congruence with Hermetic depictions of descent to the sub-lunary nadir as the necessary inversion preceding ascent.
• Orphic-Greek cosmology (Tartarus)Satan's imprisonment at the deepest stratum below Cocytus shows cross-tradition congruence with the Orphic-Hesiodic Tartarus, the bounded abyss beneath Hades reserved for figures whose betrayal threatened cosmic and political order.

Inferno Canto 34

Canto XXXIV

Argument

In the fourth and last round of the ninth circle, those who have betrayed their benefactors are wholly covered with ice. And in the midst is Lucifer, at whose back Dante and Virgil ascend, till by a secret path they reach the surface of the other hemisphere of the earth, and once more obtain sight of the stars.

"The banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth Toward us; therefore look," so spake my guide, "If thou discern him." As, when breathes a cloud Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round; Such was the fabric then methought I saw.

To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew Behind my guide: no covert else was there.

Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain Record the marvel) where the souls were all Whelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glass Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid; Others stood upright, this upon the soles, That on his head, a third with face to feet Arch'd like a bow. When to the point we came, Whereat my guide was pleased that I should see

The creature eminent in beauty once, He from before me stepp'd and made me pause.

"Lo!" he exclaim'd, "lo! Dis; and lo! the place, Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength."

How frozen and how faint I then became, Ask me not, reader! for I write it not; Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. I was not dead nor living. Think thyself, If quick conception work in thee at all, How I did feel. That emperor, who sways The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from the ice Stood forth; and I in stature am more like A giant, than the giants are his arms. Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits With such a part. If he were beautiful As he is hideous now, and yet did dare To scowl upon his Maker, well from him May all our misery flow. Oh what a sight! How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spy Upon his head three faces: one in front Of hue vermilion, the other two with this Midway each shoulder join'd and at the crest; The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd; the left To look on, such as come from whence old Nile Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth Two mighty wings, enormous as became A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw Outstretch'd on the wide sea. No plumes had they, But were in texture like a bat; and these He flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued still Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam. At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd, Bruised as with ponderous engine; so that three Were in this guise tormented. But far more Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'd By the fierce rending, whence oft - times the back Was stript of all its skin. "That upper spirit, Who hath worst punishment," so spake my guide, "Is Judas, he that hath his head within And plies the feet without. Of th' other two, Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw Who hangs, is Brutus:[1] lo! how he doth writhe And speaks not. The other, Cassius, that appears So large of limb. But night now reascends; And it is time for parting. All is seen."

[1: "Brutus." Landino struggles to extricate Brutus from the unworthy lot which is here assigned him. He maintains that by Brutus and Cassius are not meant the individuals known by those names, but any who put a lawful monarch to death. Yet if Caesar was such, the conspirators might be regarded as deserving of their doom. If Dante, however, believed Brutus to have been actuated by evil motives in putting Caesar to death, the excellence of the patriot's character in other respects would only have aggravated his guilt in that particular.]

I clipp'd him round the neck; for so he bade: And noting time and place, he, when the wings Enough were oped, caught fast the shaggy sides, And down from pile to pile descending stepp'd Between the thick fell and the jagged ice.

Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thigh Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, My leader there, with pain and struggling hard, Turn'd round his head where his feet stood before, And grappled at the fell as one who mounts; That into Hell methought we turn'd again.

"Expect that by such stairs as these," thus spake The teacher, panting like a man forespent, "We must depart from evil so extreme:" Then at a rocky opening issued forth, And placed me on the brink to sit, next join'd With wary step my side. I raised mine eyes, Believing that I Lucifer should see Where he was lately left, but saw him now With legs help upward. Let the grosser sort, Who see not what the point was I had past, Bethink them if sore toil oppress'd me then.

"Arise," my master cried, "upon thy feet. The way is long, and much uncouth the road; And now within one hour and a half of noon[2] The sun returns." It was no palace - hall

[2: The Poet uses the Hebrew manner of computing the day, according to which the third hour answers to our twelve o'clock at noon.]

Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, But natural dungeon where ill - footing was And scant supply of light. "Ere from the abyss I separate," thus when risen I began: "My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free From error's thraldom. Where is now the ice? How standeth he in posture thus reversed? And how from eve to morn in space so brief Hath the sun made his transit?" He in few Thus answering spake: "Thou deemest thou art still On the other side the centre, where I grasp'd The abhorred worm that boreth through the world. Thou wast on the other side, so long as I Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass That point, to which from every part is dragg'd All heavy substance. Thou art now arrived Under the hemisphere opposed to that, Which the great continent doth overspread, And underneath whose canopy expired The Man, that was born sinless and so lived. Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, Whose shaggy pile we scaled, yet standeth fix'd, As at the first. On this part he fell down From Heaven; and th' earth here prominent before, Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, And to our hemisphere retired. Perchance, To shun him, was the vacant space left here, By what of firm land on this side appears,[3] That sprang aloof." There is a place beneath, From Belzebub as distant, as extends The vaulted tomb;[4] discover'd not by sight, But by the sound of brooklet, that descends This way along the hollow of a rock, Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way My guide and I did enter, to return

[3: The mountain of Purgatory.]

[4: "The vaulted tomb" ("La tomba"). This word is used to express the whole depth of the infernal region.]

To the fair world: and heedless of repose We climb'd, he first, I following his steps, Till on our view the beautiful lights of Heaven Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave: Thence issuing we again beheld the stars.

Purgatory Canto 1

Canto I

Argument

The Poet describes the delight he experienced at issuing a little before dawn from the infernal regions, into the pure air that surrounds the isle of Purgatory; and then relates how, turning to the right, he beheld four stars never seen before, but by our first parents, and met on his left the shade of Cato of Utica, who, having warned him and Virgil what is needful to be done before they proceed on their way through Purgatory, disappears; and the two poets go toward the shore, where Virgil cleanses Dante's face with the dew, and girds him with a reed, as Cato had commanded.

O'er better waves to speed her rapid course The light bark of my genius lifts the sail, Well pleased to leave so cruel sea behind; And of that second region will I sing, In which the human spirit from sinful blot Is purged, and for ascent to Heaven prepares.

Here, O ye hallow'd Nine! for in your train I follow, here the deaden'd strain revive; Nor let Calliope refuse to sound A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone Which when the wretched birds of chattering note[1] Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope.

[1: Birds oa chattering note." For the fable of the daughters of Pierus who challenged the muses to sing, and were by them changed into magpies, see Ovid, Met. lib. v. fab. 5.]

Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread O'er the serene aspect of the pure air, High up as the first circle,[2] to mine eyes Unwonted joy renew'd, soon as I 'scaped Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom, That had mine eyes and bosom fill'd with grief. The radiant planet,[3] that to love invites, Made all the orient laugh, and veil'd beneath The Pisces' light,[4] that in his [her] escort came.

[2: "The first circle." Either, as some suppose, the moon; or, as Lombardi (who likes to be as far off the rest of the commentators as possible) will have it, the highest circle of the stars.]

[3: "Planet." Venus.]

[4: The constellation of the Fish veiled by the more luminous body of Venus, then a morning star.]

To the right hand I turn'd, and fix'd my mind On the other pole attentive, where I saw Four stars[5] ne'er seen before save by the ken Of our first parents.[6] Heaven of their rays Seem'd joyous. O thou northern site! bereft Indeed, and widow'd, since of these deprived.

[5: Symbolical of the four cardinal virtues, Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.]

[6: "Our first parents." In the terrestrial paradise, placed on the summit of Purgatory.]

As from this view I had desisted, straight Turning a little toward the other pole, There from whence now the wain[7] had disappear'd, I saw an old man[8] standing by my side Alone, so worthy of reverence in his look, That ne'er from son to father more was owed. Low down his beard, and mix'd with hoary white, Descended, like his locks, which, parting, fell Upon his breast in double fold. The beams Of those four luminaries on his face So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear Deck'd it, that I beheld him as the sun.

[7: Charles' Wain, or Bootes.]

[8: "An old man." Cato.]

"Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream, Forth from the eternal prison - house have fled?" He spoke and moved those venerable plumes. "Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure Lights you emerging from the depth of night, That makes the infernal valley ever black? Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss Broken, or in high Heaven new laws ordain'd, That thus, condemn'd, ye to my caves approach?"

My guide, then laying hold on me, by words And intimations given with hand and head, Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay Due reverence; then thus to him replied:

"Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven[9] Descending, him besought me in my charge To bring. But since thy will implies, that more Our true condition I unfold at large, Mine is not to deny thee thy request.

[9: Beatrice. See Hell, ii. 54.]

This mortal ne'er hath seen the farthest gloom; But erring by his folly had approach'd So near, that little space was left to turn. Then, as before I told, I was despatch'd To work his rescue; and no way remain'd Save this which I have ta'en. I have display'd Before him all the regions of the bad; And purpose now those spirits to display, That under thy command are purged from sin. How I have brought him would be long to say. From high descends the virtue, by whose aid I to thy sight and hearing him have led. Now may our coming please thee. In the search Of liberty he journeys: that how dear, They know who for her sake have life refused. Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds, That in the last great day will shine so bright. For us the eternal edicts are unmoved; He breathes, and I of Minos am not bound, Abiding in that circle, where the eyes Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look Prays thee, O hallow'd spirit! to own her thine. Then by her love we implore thee, let us pass Through thy seven regions;[10] for which, best thanks I for thy favour will to her return, If mention there below thou not disdain."

[10: "Through thy seven regions." The seven rounds of Purgatory, in which the seven capital sins are punished.]

"Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found," He then to him rejoin'd, "while I was there, That all she ask'd me I was fain to grant. Now that beyond the accursed stream she dwells, She may no longer move me, by that law,[11] Which was ordain'd me, when I issued thence. Not so, if Dame from Heaven, as thou sayst, Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs. Enough for me that in her name thou ask.

[11: "By that law." When he was delivered by Christ from Limbo, a change of affections accompanied his change of place.]

Go therefore now: and with a slender reed[12] See that thou duly gird him, and his face Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence. For not with eye, by any cloud obscured, Would it be seemly before him to come, Who stands the foremost minister in Heaven. This islet all around, there far beneath, Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed Produces store of reeds. No other plant, Cover'd with leaves, or harden'd in its stalk, There lives, not bending to the water's sway. After, this way return not; but the sun Will show you, that now rises, where to take The mountain in its easiest ascent."

[12: A type of simplicity and patience.]

He disappear'd; and I myself upraised Speechless, and to my guide retiring close, Toward him turn'd mine eyes. He thus began: "My son! observant thou my steps pursue. We must retreat to rereward; for that way The champain to its low extreme declines."

The dawn had chased the matin hour of prime, Which fled before it, so that from afar I spied the trembling of the ocean stream.

We traversed the deserted plain, as one Who, wander'd from his track, thinks every step Trodden in vain till he regain the path.

When we had come, where yet the tender dew Strove with the sun, and in a place where fresh The wind breathed o'er it, while it slowly dried; Both hands extended on the watery grass My master placed, in graceful act and kind. Whence I of his intent before apprised, Stretch'd out to him my cheeks suffused with tears. There to my visage he anew restored That hue which the dun shades of Hell conceal'd.

Then on the solitary shore arrived, That never sailing on its waters saw Man that could after measure back his course, He girt me in such manner as had pleased

Him who instructed; and, oh strange to tell! As he selected every humble plant, Wherever one was pluck'd another there Resembling, straightway in its place arose.

Purgatory Canto 2

Canto II

Argument

They behold a vessel under conduct of an angel, coming over the waves with spirits to Purgatory, among whom, when the passengers have landed, Dante recognizes his friend Casella; but, while they are entertained by him with a song, they hear Cato exclaiming against their negligent loitering, and at that rebuke hasten forward to the mountain.

Now had the sun[1] to that horizon reach'd, That covers, with the most exalted point Of its meridian circle, Salem's walls; And night, that opposite to him her orb Rounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth, Holding the scales,[2] that from her hands are dropt When she reigns highest:[3] so that where I was, Aurora's white and vermeil - tinctured cheek To orange turn'd as she in age increased.

[1: "Now had the sun." Dante was now antipodal to Jerusalem; so that while the sun was setting with respect to that place, which he supposes to be the middle of the inhabited earth, to him it was rising.]

[2: The constellation Libra.]

[3: "When she reigns highest" is (according to Venturi, whom I have followed) "when the autumnal equinox is passed." Lombardi supposes it to mean "when the nights begin to increase, that is, after the summer solstice."]

Meanwhile we linger'd by the water's brink, Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought Journey, while motionless the body rests. When lo! as, near upon the hour of dawn, Through the thick vapors Mars with fiery beam Glares down in west, over the ocean floor; So seem'd, what once again I hope to view, A light, so swiftly coming through the sea, No winged course might equal its career. From which when for a space I had withdrawn Mine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide, Again I look'd, and saw it grown in size And brightness: then on either side appear'd Something, but what I knew not, of bright hue,

And by degrees from underneath it came Another. My preceptor silent yet Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern'd, Open'd the form of wings: then when he knew The pilot, cried aloud, "Down, down; bend low Thy knees; behold God's angel: fold thy hands: Now shalt thou see true ministers indeed. Lo! how all human means he sets at naught; So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail Except his wings, between such distant shores. Lo! how straight up to Heaven he holds them rear'd, Winnowing the air with these eternal plumes, That not like mortal hairs fall off or change."

As more and more toward us came, more bright Appear'd the bird of God, nor could the eye Endure his splendor near: I mine bent down. He drove ashore in a small bark so swift And light, that in its course no wave it drank. The heavenly steersman at the prow was seen, Visibly written Blessed in his looks. Within a hundred spirits and more there sat.

"In Exitu[4] Israel de Egypto," All with one voice together sang, with what In the remainder of that hymn is writ. Then soon as with the sign of holy cross He bless'd them, they at once leap'd out on land: He, swiftly as he came, return'd. The crew, There left, appear'd astounded with the place, Gazing around, as one who sees new sights.

[4: "In Exitu." "When Israel came out of Egypt." Ps. cxiv.]

From every side the sun darted his beams, And with his arrowy radiance from mid heaven Had chased the Capricorn, when that strange tribe, Lifting their eyes toward us: "If ye know, Declare what path will lead us to the mount."

Them Virgil answer'd: "Ye suppose, perchance, Us well acquainted with this place: but here, We, as yourselves, are strangers. Not long erst We came, before you but a little space, By other road so rough and hard, that now

The ascent will seem to us as play." The spirits, Who from my breathing had perceived I lived, Grew pale with wonder. As the multitude Flock round a herald sent with olive branch, To hear what news he brings, and in their haste Tread one another down; e'en so at sight Of me those happy spirits were fix'd, each one Forgetful of its errand to depart Where, cleansed from sin, it might be made all fair.

Then one I saw darting before the rest With such fond ardour to embrace me, I To do the like was moved. O shadows vain! Except in outward semblance: thrice my hands I clasp'd behind it, they as oft return'd Empty into my breast again. Surprise I need must think was painted in my looks, For that the shadow smiled and backward drew. To follow it I hasten'd, but with voice Of sweetness it enjoin'd me to desist. Then who it was I knew, and pray'd of it, To talk with me it would a little pause. It answer'd: "Thee as in my mortal frame I loved, so loosed from it I love thee still, And therefore pause: but why walkest thou here?"

"Not without purpose once more to return, Thou find'st me, my Casella,[5] where I am, Journeying this way;" I said: "but how of thee Hath so much time been lost?" He answer'd straight:

[5: "My Casella." A Florentine, celebrated for his skill in music, "in whose company, says Landino, "Dante often recreated his spirits, wearied by severer studies," See Dr. Burney's History of Music, vol. ii. cap. iv., p.

322See also Milton's sonnet to Henry Lawes: "Dante shall give fame leave to
set thee higher Than his Casella, whom he wooed to sing, Met in the milder shades of Purgatory."] "No outrage hath been done to me, if he,[6] Who when and whom he chooses takes, hath oft Denied me passage here; since of just will His will he makes. These three months past[7] indeed, He, who so chose to enter, with free leave [6: "He." The conducting angel.] [7: "These three months past." Since the time of the Jubilee, during which all spirits not condemned to eternal punishment were supposed to pass over to Purgatory as soon as they pleased.] Hath taken; whence I wandering by the shore[8] Where Tiber's wave grows salt, of him gain'd kind Admittance, at that river's mouth, toward which His wings are pointed; for there always throng All such as not to Acheron descend." [8: "The shore." Ostia.] Then I: "If new law taketh not from thee Memory or custom of love - tuned song, That whilom all my cares had power to 'swage; Please thee therewith a little to console My spirit, that encumber'd with its frame, Travelling so far, of pain is overcome." "Love, that discourses in my thoughts," he then Began in such soft accents, that within The sweetness thrills me yet. My gentle guide, And all who came with him, so well were pleased, That seem'd naught else might in their thoughts have room. Fast fix'd in mute attention to his notes We stood, when lo! that old man venerable Exclaiming, "How is this, ye tardy spirits? What negligence detains you loitering here? Run to the mountain to cast off those scales, That from your eyes the sight of God conceal." As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food Collected, blade or tares, without their pride Accustom'd, and in still and quiet sort, If aught alarm them, suddenly desert Their meal, assail'd by more important care; So I that new - come troop beheld, the song Deserting, hasten to the mountain's side, As one who goes, yet, where he tends, knows not. Nor with less hurried step did we depart.

Purgatory Canto 3

Canto III

Argument

Our Poet, perceiving no shadow except that cast by his own body, is fearful that Virgil has deserted him; but he is freed from that error, and both arrive together at the foot of the mountain; on finding it too steep to climb, they inquire the way from a troop of spirits that are coming toward them, and are by them shown which is the easiest ascent. Manfredi, King of Naples, who is one of these spirits, bids Dante inform his daughter Costanza, Queen of Arragon, of the manner in which he had died.

Them sudden flight had scatter'd o'er the plain, Turn'd toward the mountain, whither reason's voice Drives us: I, to my faithful company Adhering, left it not. For how, of him Deprived, might I have sped? or who, beside, Would o'er the mountainous tract have led my steps? He, with the bitter pang of self - remorse, Seem'd smitten. O clear conscience, and upright! How doth a little failing wound thee sore.

Soon as his feet desisted (slackening pace) From haste, that mars all decency of act, My mind, that in itself before was wrapt, Its thought expanded, as with joy restored; And full against the steep ascent I set My face, where highest to Heaven its top o'erflows.

The sun, that flared behind, with ruddy beam Before my form was broken; for in me His rays resistance met. I turn'd aside With fear of being left, when I beheld Only before myself the ground obscured. When thus my solace, turning him around, Bespake me kindly: "Why distrustest thou? Believest not I am with thee, thy sure guide? It now is evening there, where buried lies The body in which I cast a shade, removed To Naples[1] from Brundusium's wall. Nor thou Marvel, if before me no shadow fall, More than that in the skyey element One ray obstructs not other. To endure Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames

[1: "To Naples." Virgil died at Brundusium, from whence his body is said to have been removed to Naples.]

That virtue hath disposed, which, how it works, Wills not to us should be reveal'd. Insane, Who hopes our reason may that space explore, Which holds three persons in one substance knit. Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;

Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been For Mary to bring forth. Moreover, ye Have seen such men desiring fruitlessly; To whose desires, repose would have been given, That now but serve them for eternal grief. I speak of Plato, and the Stagirite, And others many more." And then he bent Downward his forehead, and in troubled mood Broke off his speech. Meanwhile we had arrived Far as the mountain's foot, and there the rock Found of so steep ascent, that nimblest steps To climb it had been vain. The most remote, Most wild, untrodden path, in all the tract 'Twixt Lerice and Turbia,[2] were to this A ladder easy and open of access.

[2: "Twixt Lerice and Turbia." At that time the two extremities of the Genoese republic; the former on the east, the latter on the west.]

"Who knows on which hand now the steep declines?" My master said, and paused; "so that he may Ascend, who journeys without aid of wing?" And while, with looks directed to the ground, The meaning of the pathway he explored, And I gazed upward round the stony height; On the left hand appear'd to us a troop Of spirits, that toward us moved their steps; Yet moving seem'd not, they so slow approach'd.

I thus my guide address'd: "Upraise thine eyes: Lo! that way some, of whom thou mayst obtain Counsel, if of thyself thou find'st it not."

Straightway he look'd, and with free speech replied: "Let us tend thither: they but softly come. And thou be firm in hope, my son beloved."

Now was that crowd from us distant as far, (When we some thousand steps, I say, had past,) As at a throw the nervous arm could fling;

When all drew backward on the massy crags Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmoved, As one, who walks in doubt, might stand to look.

"O spirits perfect! O already chosen!" Virgil to them began: "by that blest peace, Which, as I deem, is for you all prepared, Instruct us where the mountain low declines, So that attempt to mount it be not vain. For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves."

As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one, Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose To ground, and what the foremost does, that do The others, gathering round her if she stops, Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern; So saw I moving to advance the first, Who of that fortunate crew were at the head, Of modest mien, and graceful in their gait. When they before me had beheld the light From my right side fall broken on the ground, So that the shadow reach'd the cave; they stopp'd, And somewhat back retired: the same did all Who follow'd though unweeting of the cause.

"Unask'd of you, yet freely I confess, This is a human body which ye see. That the sun's light is broken on the ground, Marvel not; but believe, that not without Virtue derived from Heaven, we to climb Over this wall aspire." So them bespake My master; and that virtuous tribe rejoin'd: "Turn, and before you there the entrance lies;" Making a signal to us with bent hands.

Then of them one began. "Whoe'er thou art, Who journey'st thus this way, thy visage turn; Think if me elsewhere thou hast ever seen."

I toward him turn'd, and with fix'd eye beheld. Comely and fair, and gentle of aspect He seem'd, but on one brow a gash was mark'd.

When humbly I disclaim'd to have beheld Him ever: "Now behold!" he said, and show'd High on his breast a wound: then smiling spake.

"I am Manfredi,[3] grandson to the Queen Costanza:[4] whence I pray thee, when return'd, To my fair daughter[5] go, the parent glad Of Aragonia and Sicilia's pride; And of the truth inform her, if of me Aught else be told. When by two mortal blows My frame was shatter'd, I betook myself Weeping to Him, who of free will forgives. My sins were horrible: but so wide arms Hath goodness infinite, that it receives All who turn to it. Had this text divine Been of Cosenza's shepherd better scann'd, Who then by Clement[6] on my hunt was set, Yet at the bridge's head my bones had lain, Near Benevento, by the heavy mole Protected; but the rain now drenches them, And the wind drives, out of the kingdom's bounds, Far as the stream of Verde,[7] where, with lights Extinguish'd, he removed them from their bed. Yet by their curse we are not so destroy'd, But that the eternal love may turn, while hope Retains her verdant blossom. True it is, That such one as in contumacy dies

[3: "Manfredi." King of Naples and Sicily, and the natural son of Frederick II. He was lively and agreeable in his manners, delighted in poetry, music, and dancing. But he was luxurious and ambitious, void of religion, and in his philosophy an Epicurean. He fell in the battle with Charles of Anjou in 1265, alluded to in Canto xxviii of Hell, ver. 13, or rather in that of Benevento. The successes of Charles were so rapidly followed up, that our author, exact as he generally is, might not have thought it necessary to distinguish them in point of time. "Dying excommunicated, King Charles did not allow of his being buried in sacred ground, but he was interred near the bridge of Benevento; and on his grave there was cast a stone by every one of the army, whence there was formed a great mound of stones. But some have said, that afterward, by command of the Pope, the Bishop of Cosenza took up his body and sent it out of the kingdom, because it was the land of the Church; and that it was buried by the river Verde, on the borders of the kingdom and of Campagna."]

[4: See Paradise, Canto iii. 121.]

[5: Costanza, the daughter of Manfredi, and wife of Peter III, King of Arragon, by whom she was mother to Frederick, King of Sicily, and James, King of Arragon. With the latter of these she was at Rome, 1296.]

[6: "Clement." Pope Clement IV.]

[7: "The stream of Verde." A river near Ascoli, that falls into the Tronto. The "extinguished lights" formed part of the ceremony at the interment of one excommunicated.]

Against the holy Church, though he repent, Must wander thirty - fold for all the time In his presumption past: if such decree Be not by prayers of good men shorter made. Look therefore if thou canst advance my bliss; Revealing to my good Costanza, how Thou hast beheld me, and beside, the terms Laid on me of that interdict; for here By means of those below much profit comes."

Purgatory Canto 4

Canto IV

Argument

Dante and Virgil ascend the mountain of Purgatory, by a steep and narrow path pent in on each side by rock, till they reach a part of it that opens into a ledge or cornice. There seating themselves, and turning to the east, Dante wonders at seeing the sun on their left, the cause of which is explained to him by Virgil; and while they continue their discourse, a voice addresses them, at which they turn, and find several spirits behind the rock, and among the rest one named Belacqua, who had been known to our Poet on earth, and who tells that he is doomed to linger there on account of his having delayed his repentance to the last.

When by sensations of delight or pain, That any of our faculties hath seized, Entire the soul collects herself, it seems She is intent upon that power alone; And thus the error is disproved, which holds The soul not singly lighted in the breast. And therefore whenas aught is heard or seen, That firmly keeps the soul toward it turn'd, Time passes, and a man perceives it not. For that, whereby we hearken, is one power; Another that, which the whole spirit hath: This is as it were bound, while that is free.

This found I true by proof, hearing that spirit And wondering; for full fifty steps[1] aloft The sun had measured, unobserved of me, When we arrived where all with one accord The spirits shouted, "Here is what ye ask."

[1: Three hours twenty minutes; fifteen degrees being reckoned to an hour.]

A larger aperture oft - times is stopt, With forked stake of thorn by villager, When the ripe grape imbrowns, than was the path,

By which my guide, and I behind him close, Ascended solitary, when that troop Departing left us. On Sanleo's[2] road Who journeys, or to Noli[3] low descends, Or mounts Bismantua's[4] height, must use his feet; Bat here a man had need to fly, I mean With the swift wing and plumes of high desire, Conducted by his aid, who gave me hope, And with light furnish'd to direct my way.

[2: "Sanleo." A fortress on the summit of Montefeltro. The situation is described by Troya, Veltro Allegorico, p. 11. It is a conspicuous object to travellers along the cornice on the Riviera di Genoa.]

[3: "Noli". In the Genoese territory, between Finale and Savona.]

[4: "Bismantua." A steep mountain in the territory of Reggio.]

We through the broken rock ascended, close Pent on each side, while underneath the ground Ask'd help of hands and feet. When we arrived Near on the highest ridge of the steep bank, Where the plain level open'd, I exclaim'd, "O Master! say, which way can we proceed."

He answer'd, "Let no step of thine recede. Behind me gain the mountain, till to us Some practised guide appear." That eminence Was lofty, that no eye might reach its point; And the side proudly rising, more than line From the mid quadrant to the centre drawn. I, wearied, thus began: "Parent beloved! Turn and behold how I remain alone, If thou stay not." - "My son!" he straight replied, "Thus far put forth thy strength;" and to a track Pointed, that, on this side projecting, round Circles the hill. His words so spurr'd me on, That I, behind him, clambering, forced myself, Till my feet press'd the circuit plain beneath. There both together seated, turn'd we round To eastward, whence was our ascent: and oft Many beside have with delight look'd back.

First on the nether shores I turn'd mine eyes, Then raised them to the sun, and wondering mark'd That from the left it smote us. Soon perceived That poet sage, how at the car of light

Amazed[5] I stood, where 'twixt us and the north Its course it enter'd. Whence he thus to me: "Were Leda's offspring[6] now in company Of that broad mirror, that high up and low Imparts his light beneath, thou mightst behold The ruddy Zodiac nearer to the Bears Wheel, if its ancient course it not forsook. How that may be, if thou wouldst think; within Pondering, imagine Sion with this mount Placed on the earth, so that to both be one Horizon, and two hemispheres apart, Where lies the path[7] that Phaeton ill knew To guide his erring chariot: thou wilt see[8] How of necessity by this, on one, He passes, while by that on the other side; If with clear view thine intellect attend."

[5: "Amazed." He wonders that being turned to the east he should see the sun on his left, since in all the regions on this side of the tropic of Cancer it is seen on the right of one who turns his face toward the east; not recollecting that he was now antipodal to Europe, from whence he had seen the sun taking an opposite course.]

[6: "As the constellation of the Gemini is nearer the Bears than Aries is, it is certain that if the sun, instead of being in Aries, had been in Gemini, both the sun and that portion of the Zodiac made 'ruddy' by the sun, would have been seen to 'wheel nearer to the Bears,' By the 'ruddy Zodiac' must necessarily be understood that portion of the Zodiac affected or made red by the sun; for the whole of the Zodiac never changes, nor appears to change, with respect to the remainder of the heavens." - Lombardi.]

[7: "The path." The ecliptic.]

[8: "Thou, wilt see." "If you consider that this mountain of Purgatory, and that of Sion, are antipodal to each other, you will perceive that the sun must rise on opposite sides of the respective eminences."]

"Of truth, kind teacher! I exclaim'd, "so clear Aught saw I never, as I now discern, Where seem'd my ken to fail, that the mid orb[9] Of the supernal motion (which in terms Of art is call'd the Equator, and remains Still 'twixt the sun and winter) for the cause Thou hast assign'd, from hence toward the north Departs, when those, who in the Hebrew land Were dwellers, saw it towards the warmer part. But if it please thee, I would gladly know,

[9: "That the mid orb." "That the equator (which is always situated between that part where, when the sun is, he causes summer, and the other where his absence produces winter) recedes from this mountain toward the north, at the time when the Jews inhabiting Mount Sion saw it depart toward the south." - Lombardi.]

How far we have to journey: for the hill Mounts higher, than this sight of mine can mount."

He thus to me: "Such is this steep ascent, That it is ever difficult at first, But more a man proceeds, less evil grows.[10] When pleasant it shall seem to thee, so much That upward going shall be easy to thee As in a vessel to go down the tide, Then of this path thou wilt have reach'd the end. There hope to rest thee from thy toil. No more I answer, and thus far from certain know." As he his words had spoken, near to us A voice there sounded: "Yet ye first perchance May to repose you by constraint be led." At sound thereof each turn'd; and on the left A huge stone we beheld, of which nor I Nor he before was ware. Thither we drew; And there were some, who in the shady place Behind the rock were standing, as a man Through idleness might stand. Among them one, Who seem'd to be much wearied, sat him down, And with his arms did fold his knees about, Holding his face between them downward bent.

[10: Because in ascending he gets rid of the weight of his sins.]

"Sweet Sir!" I cried, "behold that man who shows Himself more idle than if laziness Were sister to him." Straight he turn'd to us, And, o'er the thigh lifting his face, observed, Then in these accents spake: "Up then, proceed, Thou valiant one." Straight who it was I knew; Nor could the pain I felt (for want of breath Still somewhat urged me) hinder my approach. And when I came to him, he scarce his head Uplifted, saying, "Well has thou discern'd, How from the left the sun his chariot leads?"

His lazy acts and broken words my lips To laughter somewhat moved; when I began: "Belacqua,[11] now for thee I grieve no more.

[11: In the margin of the Monte Casino Ms. there is found this brief notice: "This Belacqua was an excellent master of the harp and lute, but very negligent in his affairs both spiritual and temporal."]

But tell, why thou art seated upright there. Waitest thou escort to conduct thee hence? Or blame I only thine accustom'd ways?" Then he: "My brother! of what use to mount, When, to my suffering, would not let me pass The bird of God, who at the portal sits? Behoves so long that Heaven first bear me round Without its limits, as in life it bore; Because I, to the end, repentant sighs Delay'd; if prayer do not aid me first, That riseth up from heart which lives in grace. What other kind avails, not heard in Heaven?"

Before me now the poet, up the mount Ascending, cried: "Haste thee: for see the sun Has touch'd the point meridian; and the night Now covers with her foot Marocco's shore."

Purgatory Canto 5

Canto V

Argument

They meet with others, who had deferred their repentance till overtaken by a violent death, when sufficient space being allowed them, they were then saved; and among these, Giacopo del Cassero, Buonconte da Montefeltro, and Pia, a lady of Siena.

Now had I left those spirits, and pursued The steps of my conductor; when behind, Pointing the finger at me, one exclaim'd: "See, how it seems as if the light not shone From the left hand[1] of him beneath,[2] and he, As living, seems to be led on." Mine eyes, I at that sound reverting, saw them gaze, Through wonder, first at me; and then at me And the light broken underneath, by turns. "Why are thy thoughts thus riveted," my guide Exclaim'd, "that thou hast slack'd thy pace? or how Imports it thee, what thing is whisper'd here? Come after me, and to their babblings leave

[1: The sun was, therefore, on the right of our travellers. For, as before, when seated and looking to the east whence they had ascended, the sun was on their left; so now that they are again going forward, it must be on the opposite side of them.]

[2: Of Dante, following Virgil.]

The crowd. Be as a tower, that, firmly set, Shakes not its top for any blast that blows. He, in whose bosom thought on thought shoots out, Still of his aim is wide, in that the one Sicklies and wastes to naught the other's strength."

What other could I answer, save "I come"? I said it, somewhat with that color tinged, Which oft - times pardon meriteth for man.

Meanwhile traverse along the hill there came, A little way before us, some who sang The "Miserere" in responsive strains. When they perceived that through my body I Gave way not for the rays to pass, their song Straight to a long and hoarse exclaim they changed; And two of them, in guise of messengers, Ran on to meet us, and inquiring ask'd: "Of your condition we would gladly learn."

To them my guide: "Ye may return, and bear Tidings to them who sent you, that his frame Is real flesh. If, as I deem, to view His shade they paused, enough is answer'd them: Him let them honor: they may prize him well."

Ne'er saw I fiery vapors with such speed Cut through the serene air at fall of night, Nor August's clouds athwart the setting sun, That upward these did not in shorter space Return; and, there arriving, with the rest Wheel back on us, as with loose rein a troop.

"Many," exclaim'd the bard, "are these, who throng Around us: to petition thee, they come. Go therefore on, and listen as thou go'st."

"O spirit! who go'st on to blessedness, With the same limbs that clad thee at thy birth," Shouting they came: "a little rest thy step. Look, if thou any one amongst our tribe Hast e'er beheld, that tidings of him there[3] Thou mayst report. Ah, wherefore go'st thou on? Ah, wherefore tarriest thou not? We all By violence died, and to our latest hour

[3: "There." Upon the earth.]

Were sinners, but then warn'd by light from Heaven; So that, repenting and forgiving, we Did issue out of life at peace with God, Who, with desire to see Him, fills our heart."

Then I: "The visages of all I scan, Yet none of ye remember. But if aught That I can do may please you, gentle spirits! Speak, and I will perform it; by that peace, Which, on the steps of guide so excellent Following, from world to world, intent I seek."

In answer he began: "None here distrusts Thy kindness, though not promised with an oath; So as the will fail not for want of power. Whence I, who sole before the other speak, Entreat thee, if thou ever see that land[4] Which lies between Romagna and the realm Of Charles, that of thy courtesy thou pray Those who inhabit Fano, that for me Their adorations duly be put up, By which I may purge off my grievous sins. From thence I came.[5] But the deep passages, Whence issued out the blood[6] wherein I dwelt, Upon my bosom in Antenor's land[7] Were made, where to be more secure I thought. The author of the deed was Este's prince, Who, more than right could warrant, with his wrath Pursued me. Had I toward Mira fled, When overta'en at Oriaco, still Might I have breathed. But to the marsh I sped; And in the mire and rushes tangled there Fell, and beheld my life - blood float the plain."

[4: The Marca d' Ancona, between Romagna and Apulia, the kingdom of Charles of Anjou.]

[5: Giacopo del Cassero, a citizen of Fano, who having spoken ill of Azzo da Este, Marquis of Ferrara, was by his orders put to death. Giacopo was overtaken by the assassins at Oriaco, near the Brenta, whence, if he had fled toward Mira, higher up on that river, instead of making for the marsh on the sea - shore, he might have escaped.]

[6: Supposed to be the seat of life.]

[7: Padua, said to be founded by Antenor. This implies a reflection on the Paduans. See Hell, xxxii. 89.]

Then said another: "Ah! so may the wish, That takes thee o'er the mountain, be fulfill'd, As thou shalt graciously give aid to mine.

Of Montefeltro I;[8] Buonconte I: Giovanna[9] nor none else have care for me; Sorrowing with these I therefore go." I thus: "From Campaldino's field what force or chance Drew thee, that ne'er thy sepulture was known?"

[8: Buonconte, son of Guido da Montefeltro (see also the twenty - seventh canto of Hell), fell in the battle of Campaldino (1289), fighting on the side of the Aretini. In this engagement our Poet took a distinguished part.]

[9: Wife or kinswoman of Buonconte.]

"Oh!" answer'd he, "at Casentino's foot A stream there courseth, named Archiano, sprung In Apennine above the hermit's seat.[10] E'en where its name is cancel'd,[11] there came I, Pierced in the throat, fleeing away on foot, And bloodying the plain. Here sight and speech Fail'd me; and, finishing with Mary's name, I fell, and tenantless my flesh remain'd. I will report the truth; which thou again Tell to the living. Me God's angel took, Whilst he of Hell exclaim'd: 'O thou from Heaven! Say wherefore hast thou robb'd me? Thou of him The eternal portion bear'st with thee away, For one poor tear that he deprives me of. But of the other, other rule I make.'

[10: The hermitage of Camaldoli.]

[11: Between Bibbiena and Poppi, where the Archiano joins the Arno.]

"Thou know'st how in the atmosphere collects That vapour dank, returning into water Soon as it mounts where cold condenses it. That evil will,[12] which in his intellect Still follows evil, came; and raised the wind And smoky mist, by virtue of the power Given by his nature. Thence the valley, soon As day was spent, he cover'd o'er with cloud, From Pratomagno to the mountain range;[13] And stretch'd the sky above; so that the air Impregnate changed to water. Fell the rain; And to the fosses came all that the land

[12: The Devil. This notion of the Evil Spirit having power over the elements, appears to have arisen from his being termed the "prince of the air," in the New Testament.]

[13: From Pratomagno, now called Prato Vecchio (which divides the Valdarno from Casentino), as far as to the Apennines.]

Contain'd not; and, as mightiest streams are wont, To the great river, with such headlong sweep, Rush'd, that naught stay'd its course. My stiffen'd frame Laid at his mouth, the fell Archiano found, And dashed it into Arno; from my breast Loosening the cross, that of myself I made When overcome with pain. He hurl'd me on, Along the banks and bottom of his course; Then in his muddy spoils encircling wrapt."

"Ah! when thou to the world shalt be return'd, And rested after thy long road," so spake Next the third spirit; "then remember me. I once was Pia.[14] Sienna gave me life; Maremma took it from me. That he knows, Who me with jewel'd ring had first espoused."

[14: "Pia" She is said to have been a Siennese lady, of the family of Tolommei, secretly made away with by her husband, Nello della Pietra, of the same city, in Maremma, where he had some possessions.]

Purgatory Canto 6

Canto VI

Argument

Many besides, who are in like case with those spoken of in the last Canto, beseech our Poet to obtain for them the prayers of their friends, when he shall be returned to this world. This moves him to express a doubt to his guide, how the dead can be profited by the prayers of the living; for the solution of which doubt he is referred to Beatrice. Afterward he meets with Sordello the Mantuan, whose affection, shown to Virgil his countryman, leads Dante to break forth into an invective against the unnatural divisions with which Italy, and more especially Florence, was distracted.

When from their game of dice men separate, He who hath lost remains in sadness fix'd, Revolving in his mind what luckless throws He cast: but, meanwhile, all the company Go with the other; one before him runs, And one behind his mantle twitches, one Fast by his side bids him remember him. He stops not; and each one, to whom his hand Is stretch'd, well knows he bids him stand aside; And thus[1] he from the press defends himself. E'en such was I in that close - crowding throng;

[1: "And thus." It was usual for money to be given to bystanders at play by winners.]

And turning so my face around to all, And promising, I 'scaped from it with pains.

Here of Arezzo him[2] I saw, who fell By Ghino's cruel arm; and him beside,[3] Who in his chase was swallow'd by the stream. Here Frederic Novello,[4] with his hand Stretch'd forth, entreated; and of Pisa he,[5] Who put the good Marzucco to such proof Of constancy. Count Orso[6] I beheld; And from its frame a soul dismiss'd for spite And envy, as it said, but for no crime; I speak of Peter de la Brosse:[7] and here, While she yet lives, that Lady of Brabant, Let her beware; lest for so false a deed She herd with worse than these. When I was freed From all those spirits, who pray'd for others' prayers To hasten on their state of blessedness; Straight I began: "O thou, my luminary! It seems expressly in thy text denied, That Heaven's supreme decree can ever bend To supplication; yet with this design Do these entreat. Can then their hope be vain?

[2: Benincasa of Arezzo, eminent for his skill in jurisprudence, who having condemned to death Turrino da Turrita, brother of Ghino di Tacco, for his robberies in Maremma, was murdered by Ghino, in an apartment of his own house, in the presence of many witnesses. Ghino was not only suffered to escape in safety, but obtained so high a reputation by the liberality with which he dispensed the fruits of his plunder, and treated those who fell into his hands with so much courtesy, that he was afterward invited to Rome, and knighted by Boniface VIII.]

[3: Cione, or Ciacco de' Tarlatti of Arezzo, carried by his horse into the Arno, and there drowned, while in pursuit of enemies.]

[4: "Frederic Novello." Son of the Conte Guido da Battifolle, and slain by one of the family of Bostoli.]

[5: Farinata de' Scornigiani, of Pisa. His father, Marzucco, who had entered the order of the Frati Minori, so entirely overcame his resentment, that he even kissed the hands of the slayer of his son, and as he was following the funeral, exhorted his kinsmen to reconciliation.]

[6: "Count Orso." Son of Napoleone da Cerbaia, slain by Alberto da Mangona, his uncle.]

[7: Secretary of Philip III of France. The courtiers envying the high place which he held in the King's favor, prevailed on Mary of Brabant to charge him falsely with an attempt upon her person; for which supposed crime he suffered death. So say the Italian commentators. Henault represents the matter very differently: "Pierre de la Brosse, formerly barber to St. Louis, afterward the favorite of Philip, fearing the too great attachment of the King for his wife Mary, accuses this princess of having poisoned Louis, eldest son of Philip, by his first marriage. This calumny is discovered by a nun of Nivelle, in Flanders. La Brosse is hanged."]

Or is thy saying not to me reveal'd?"

He thus to me: "Both what I write is plain, And these deceived not in their hope; if well Thy mind consider, that the sacred height Of judgment doth not stoop, because love's flame In a short moment all fulfills, which he, Who sojourns here, in right should satisfy. Besides, when I this point concluded thus, By praying no defect could be supplied; Because the prayer had none access to God. Yet in this deep suspicion rest thou not Contented, unless she assure thee so, Who betwixt truth and mind infuses light: I know not if thou take me right; I mean Beatrice. Her thou shalt behold above, Upon this mountain's crown, fair seat of joy."

Then I: "Sir! let us mend our speed; for now I tire not as before: and lo! the hill[8] Stretches its shadow far." He answer'd thus: "Our progress with this day shall be as much As we may now despatch; but otherwise Than thou supposest is the truth. For there Thou canst not be, ere thou once more behold Him back returning, who behind the steep Is now so hidden, that, as erst, his beam Thou dost not break. But lo! a spirit there Stands solitary, and toward us looks: It will instruct us in the speediest way."

[8: "The hill." It was now past the moon.]

We soon approach'd it. O thou Lombard spirit! How didst thou stand, in high abstracted mood, Scarce moving with slow dignity thine eyes. It spoke not aught, but let us onward pass, Eying us as a lion on his watch. But Virgil, with entreaty mild, advanced, Requesting it to show the best ascent. It answer to his question none return'd; But of our country and our kind of life Demanded. When my courteous guide began, "Mantua," the shadow, in itself absorb'd,

Rose toward us from the place in which it stood, And cried, "Mantuan! I am thy countryman, Sordello."[9] Each the other then embraced.

[9: Sordello's life is wrapt in obscurity. He distinguished himself by his skill in Provencal poetry and many feats of military prowess have been attributed to him. It is probable that he was born at the end of the twelfth, and died about the middle of the succeeding, century.]

Ah, slavish Italy! thou inn of grief! Vessel without a pilot in loud storm! Lady no longer of fair provinces, But brothel - house impure! this gentle spirit, Even from the pleasant sound of his dear land Was prompt to greet a fellow citizen With such glad cheer: while now thy living ones In thee abide not without war; and one Malicious gnaws another; ay, of those Whom the same wall and the same moat contains. Seek, wretched one! around the sea - coasts wide; Then homeward to thy bosom turn; and mark, If any part of thee sweet peace enjoy. What boots it, that thy reins Justinian's hand Refitted, if thy saddle be unprest? Naught doth he now but aggravate thy shame. Ah, people! thou obedient still should'st live, And in the saddle let thy Caesar sit, If well thou marked'st that which God commands.

Look how that beast to fellness hath relapsed, From having lost correction of the spur, Since to the bridle thou hast set thine hand, O German Albert![10] who abandon'st her That is grown savage and unmanageable, When thou shouldst clasp her flanks with forked heels. Just judgment from the stars fall on thy blood; And be it strange and manifest to all; Such as may strike thy successor[11] with dread; For that thy sire[12] and thou have suffer'd thus,

[10: The Emperor Albert I succeeded Adolphus in 1298, and was murdered in 1308. See Paradise, Canto xix. 114.]

[11: Henry of Luxemburg, by whose interposition in the affairs of Italy our Poet hoped to have been reinstated in his native city.]

[12: The Emperor Rodolph, too intent on increasing his power in Germany to give much of his thoughts to Italy, "the garden of the empire."]

Through greediness of yonder realms detain'd, The garden of the empire to run waste. Come, see the Capulets and Montagues,[13] The Filippeschi and Monaldi,[14] man Who carest for naught! those sunk in grief, and these With dire suspicion rack'd. Come, cruel one! Come, and behold the oppression of the nobles, And mark their injuries; and thou mayst see What safety Santafiore can supply.[15] Come and behold thy Rome, who calls on thee, Desolate widow, day and night with moans, "My Caesar, why dost thou desert my side?" Come, and behold what love among thy people: And if no pity touches thee for us, Come, and blush for thine own report. For me, If it be lawful, O Almighty Power! Who wast on earth for our sakes crucified, Are thy just eyes turn'd elsewhere? or is this A preparation, in the wondrous depth Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end, Entirely from our reach of thought cut off? So are the Italian cities all o'erthrong'd With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made Of every petty factious villager.

[13: Two powerful Ghibelline families of Verona.]

[14: Two rival families in Orvieto.]

[15: A place between Pisa and Siena.]

My Florence! thou mayst well remain unmoved At this digression, which affects not thee: Thanks to thy people, who so wisely speed. Many have justice in their heart, that long Waiteth for counsel to direct the bow, Or ere it dart unto its aim: but thine Have it on their lips' edge. Many refuse To bear the common burdens: readier thine Answer uncall'd, and cry, "Behold I stoop!"

Make thyself glad, for thou hast reason now, Thou wealthy! thou at peace! thou wisdom - fraught! Facts best will witness if I speak the truth. Athens and Lacedaemon, who of old Enacted laws, for civil arts renown'd,

Made little progress in improving life Toward thee, who usest such nice subtlety, That to the middle of November scarce Reaches the thread thou in October weavest. How many times within thy memory, Customs, and laws, and coins, and offices Have been by thee renew'd, and people changed.

If thou remember'st well and canst see clear, Thou wilt perceive thyself like a sick wretch, Who finds no rest upon her down, but oft Shifting her side, short respite seeks from pain.

Purgatory Canto 7

Canto VII

Argument

The approach of night hindering further ascent, Sordello conducts our Poet apart to an eminence, from whence they behold a pleasant recess, in form of a flowery valley, scooped out of the mountain; where are many famous spirits, and among them the Emperor Rodolph, Ottocar, King of Bohemia, Philip III of France, Henry of Navarre, Peter III of Arragon, Charles I of Naples, Henry III of England, and William, Marquis of Montferrat.

After their courteous greetings joyfully Seven times exchanged, Sordello backward drew Exclaiming, "Who are ye?" - "Before this amount By spirits worthy of ascent to God Was sought, my bones had by Octavius' care Been buried. I am Virgil; for no sin Deprived of Heaven, except for lack of faith." So answer'd him in few my gentle guide.

As one, who aught before him suddenly Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries, "It is, yet is not," wavering in belief; Such he appear'd; then downward bent his eyes, And, drawing near with reverential step, Caught him, where one of mean estate might clasp His lord. "Glory of Latium!" he exclaim'd, "In whom our tongue its utmost power display'd; Boast of my honor'd birth - place! what desert Of mine, what favour, rather, undeserved, Shows thee to me? If I to hear that voice Am worthy, say if from below thou comest, And from what cloister's pale." - "Through every orb Of that sad region," he replied, "thus far Am I arrived, by heavenly influence led: And with such aid I come. Not for my doing, But for not doing, have I lost the sight Of that high Sun, whom thou desirest, and who By me too late was known. There is a place[1] There underneath, not made by torments sad, But by dun shades alone; where mourning's voice Sounds not of anguish sharp, but breathes in sighs. There I with little innocents abide, Who by death's fangs were bitten, ere exempt From human taint. There I with those abide, Who the three holy virtues[2] put not on, But understood the rest,[3] and without blame Follow'd them all But, if thou know'st, and canst, Direct us how we soonest may arrive, Where Purgatory its true beginning takes."

[1: Limbo. See Hell, Canto iv. 24.]

[2: Faith, Hope, and Charity.]

[3: "The rest." Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.]

He answer'd thus": "We have no certain place Assign'd us: upward I may go, or round. Far as I can, I join thee for thy guide. But thou beholdest now how day declines; And upward to proceed by night, our power Excels: therefore it may be well to choose A place of pleasant sojourn. To the right Some spirits sit apart retired. If thou Consentest, I to these will lead thy steps: And thou wilt know th m, not without delight,"

"How chances this?" was answer'd: "whoso wish'd To ascend by night, would he be thence debarr'd By other, or through his own weakness fail?"

The good Sordello then, along the ground Trailing his finger, spoke: "Only this line Thou shalt not overpass, soon as the sun Hath disappear'd; not that aught else impedes Thy going upward, save the shades of night. These, with the want of power, perplex the will.

With them thou haply mightst return beneath, Or to and fro around the mountain's side Wander, while day is in the horizon shut."

My master straight, as wondering at his speech, Exclaim'd: "Then lead us quickly, where thou sayst That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."

A little space we were removed from thence, When I perceived the mountain hollow'd out, Even as large valleys hollow'd out on earth.

"That way," the escorting spirit cried, "we go, Where in a bosom the high bank recedes: And thou await renewal of the day."

Betwixt the steep and plain, a crooked path Led us traverse into the ridge's side, Where more than half the sloping edge expires. Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refined, And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers Placed in that fair recess, in color all Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less. Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues, But of the sweetness of a thousand smells A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.

"Salve Regina,"[4] on the grass and flowers, Here chanting, I beheld those spirits sit, Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

[4: "Salve Regina." The beginning of a prayer to the Virgin.]

"Before the westering sun sink to his bed," Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd, "'Mid those, desire not that I lead ye on. For from this eminence ye shall discern Better the acts and visages of all, Than, in the nether vale, among them mix'd. He, who sits high above the rest, and seems To have neglected that he should have done, And to the others' song moves not his lip, The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

So that by others she revives but slowly. He, who with kindly visage comforts him, Sway'd in that country,[5] where the water springs, That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar[6] his name: Who in his swaddling - clothes was of more worth Than Wenceslaus his son, a bearded man, Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease. And that one with the nose deprest,[7] who close In counsel seems with him of gentle look,[8] Flying expired, withering the lily's flower. Look there, how he doth knock against his breast. The other ye behold, who for his cheek Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs. They are the father and the father - in - law Of Gallia's bane:[9] his vicious life they know And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.

[5: "That country." Bohemia.]

[6: "Ottocar." King of Bohemia, who was killed in the battle of Marchfield, fought with Rodolph, August 26, 1278. Wenceslaus II, his son, who succeeded him in the Kingdom of Bohemia, died in 1305. The latter is again taxed with luxury in the Paradise, xix. 123.]

[7: "That one with the nose deprest." Philip III, of France, father of Philip IV. He died in 1285, at Perpignan, in his retreat from Arragon.]

[8: "Him of gentle look." Henry of Navarre, father of Jane, married to Philip IV, of France, whom Dante calls "mal di Francia." - "Gallia's bane."]

[9: "Gallia's bane." G. Villani, lib. vii. cap. cxlvi, speaks with equal resentment of Philip IV. "In 1291, on the night of the calends of May, Philip le Bel, King of France, by advice of Biccio and Musciatto Franzesi, ordered all the Italians, who were in his country and realm, to be seized, under pretence of seizing the money - lenders, but thus he caused the good merchants also to be seized and ransomed; for which he was much blamed and held in great abhorrence. And from thenceforth the realm of France fell evermore into degradation and decline. And it is observable that between the taking of Acre and this seizure in France, the merchants of Florence received great damage and ruin of their property."]

"He, so robust of limb,[10] who measure keeps In song with him of feature prominent,[11] With every virtue bore his girdle braced.

[10: "He, so robust of limb." Peter III, called the Great, King of Arragon, who died in 1285, leaving four sons, Alonzo, James, Frederick, and Peter. The two former succeeded him in the Kingdom of Arragon, and Frederick in that of Sicily.]

[11: "Him of feature prominent." "Dal maschio naso" - "with the masculine nose." Charles I, King of Naples, Count of Anjou, and brother of St. Louis. He died in 1284. The annalist of Florence remarks that "there had been no sovereign of the house of France, since the time of Charlemagne, by whom Charles was surpassed either in military renown and prowess, or in the loftiness of his understanding."]

And if that stripling,[12] who behind sits, King after him had lived, his virtue then From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd; Which may not of the other heirs be said. By James and Frederick his realms are held; Neither the better heritage obtains. Rarely into the branches of the tree Doth human worth mount up: and so ordains He who bestows it, that as His free gift It may be call'd. To Charles[13] my words apply No less than to his brother in song; Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess. So much that plant degenerates from its seed, As, more than Beatrix and Margaret, Costanza,[14] still boasts of her valorous spouse.

[12: "That stripling." Either (as the old commentators suppose) Alonzo III, King of Arragon, the eldest son of Peter III, who died in 1291, at the age of 27; or, according to Venturi, Peter, the youngest son. The former was a young prince of virtue sufficient to have justified the eulogium and the hopes of Dante.]

[13: "To Charles." "Al Nausto" - Charles II, King of Naples, is no less inferior to his father, Charles I, than James and Frederick to theirs, Peter III.]

[14: "Costanza." Widow of Peter III. She has been already mentioned in the third Canto, v. 112. By Beatrix and Margaret are probably meant two of the daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence; the latter married to St. Louis of France, the former to his brother Charles of Anjou, King of Naples. See Paradise, Canto vi. 135. Dante therefore considers Peter as the most illustrious of the three monarchs.]

"Behold the King of simple life and plain, Harry of England,[15] sitting there alone: He through his branches better issue[16] spreads.

[15: "Harry of England." Henry III. The contemporary annalist speaks of this king in similar terms. G. Villani, lib. v. cap. iv. "From Richard was born Henry, who reigned after him, who was a plain man of good faith, but of little courage."]

[16: "Better issue." Edward I, of whose glory our Poet was perhaps a witness, in his visit to England. "From the said Henry was born the good King Edward, who reigns in our times, who has done great things, whereof we shall make mention in due place." - G. Villani, ibid.]

"That one, who, on the ground, beneath the rest, Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft, Is William, that brave Marquis,[17] for whose cause, The deed of Alexandria and his war Makes Montferrat and Canavese weep."

[17: "William, that brave Marquis." William, Marquis of Montferrat, was treacherously seized by his own subjects, at Alessandria in Lombardy, A. D. 1290, and ended his life in prison. A war ensued between the people of Alessandria and those of Montferrat and the Canavese, now part of Piedmont.]

Purgatory Canto 8

Canto VIII

Argument

Two Angels, with flaming swords broken at the points, descend to keep watch over the valley, into which Virgil and Dante entering by desire of Sordello, our Poet meets with joy the spirit of Nino, the judge of Gallura, one who was well known to him. Meantime three exceedingly bright stars appear near the pole, and a serpent creeps subtly into the valley, but flees at hearing the approach of those angelic guards. Lastly, Conrad Malaspina predicts to our Poet his future banishment.

Now was the hour that wakens fond desire In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell, And pilgrim newly on his road with love Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far, That seems to mourn for the expiring day: When I, no longer taking heed to hear, Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark One risen from its seat, which with its hand Audience implored. Both palms it join'd and raised, Fixing its steadfast gaze toward the east, As telling God, "I care for naught beside."

"Te Lucis Ante,"[1] so devoutly then Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain, That all my sense in ravishment was lost. And the rest after, softly and devout, Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze Directed to the bright supernal wheels.

[1: "Te lucis ante terminum," the first verse of the hymn in the last part of the sacred office, termed "complin."]

Here, reader! for the truth make thine eyes keen: For of so subtle texture is this veil, That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark'd.

I saw that gentle band silently next Look up, as if in expectation held, Pale and in lowly guise; and, from on high, I saw, forth issuing descend beneath, Two Angels, with two flame - illumined swords, Broken and mutilated of their points. Green as the tender leaves but newly born, Their vesture was, the which, by wings as green Beaten, they drew behind them, fann'd in air. A little over us one took his stand;

The other lighted on the opposing hill; So that the troop were in the midst contain'd.

Well I descried the whiteness on their heads; But in their visages the dazzled eye Was lost, as faculty that by too much Is overpower'd. "From Mary's bosom both Are come," exclaim'd Sordello, "as a guard Over the vale, 'gainst him who hither tends, The serpent." Whence, not knowing by which path He came, I turn'd me round; and closely press'd, All frozen, to my leader's trusted side.

Sordello paused not: "To the valley now (For it is time) let us descend; and hold Converse with those great shadows: haply much Their sight may please ye." Only three steps down Methinks I measured, ere I was beneath, And noted one who look'd as with desire To know me. Time was now that air grew dim; Yet not so dim, that, 'twixt his eyes and mine, It clear'd not up what was conceal'd before. Mutually toward each other we advanced. Nino, thou courteous judge![2] what joy I felt, When I perceived thou wert not with the bad.

[2: Nino di Gallura de' Visconti, nephew to Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi, and betrayed by him.]

No salutation kind on either part Was left unsaid. He then inquired: "How long, Since thou arrived'st at the mountain's foot, Over the distant waves?" - "Oh!" answer'd I, "Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came; And still in my first life, thus journeying on, The other strive to gain." Soon as they heard My words, he and Sordello backward drew, As suddenly amazed. To Virgil one, The other to a spirit turn'd, who near Was seated, crying: "Conrad![3] up with speed: Come, see what of His grace high God hath will'd." Then turning round to me: "By that rare mark Of honour, which thou owest to Him, who hides So deeply His first cause it hath no ford;

[3: Father to Marcello Malaspina.]

When thou shalt be beyond the vast of waves, Tell my Giovanna,[4] that for me she call There, where reply to innocence is made. Her mother,[5] I believe, loves me no more; Since she has changed the white and wimpled folds,[6] Which she is doom'd once more with grief to wish. By her it easily may be perceived, How long in woman lasts the flame of love, If sight and touch do not relume it oft. For her so fair a burial will not make The viper,[7] which calls Milan to the field, As had been made by shrill Gallura's bird."[8]

[4: The daughter of Nino, and wife of Riccardo da Camino, of Trevigi.]

[5: "Her mother." Beatrice, Marchioness of Este, wife of Nino, and after his death married to Galeazzo de' Visconti of Milan.]

[6: The weeds of widowhood.]

[7: The arms of Galeazzo and the ensign of the Milanese.]

[8: The cock was the ensign of Gallura, Nino's province in Sardinia. It is not known whether Beatrice had any further cause to regret her nuptials with Galeazzo, than a certain shame which appears, however unreasonably, to have attached to a second marriage.]

He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp Of that right zeal, which with due temperature Glows in the bosom. My insatiate eyes Meanwhile to Heaven had travel'd, even there Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel Nearest the axle; when my guide inquired: "What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?"

I answer'd: "The three torches,[9] with which here The pole is all on fire." He then to me: "The four resplendent stars, thou saw'st this morn, Are there beneath; and these, risen in their stead."

[9: The three evangelical virtues, Faith, Hope and Charity, are supposed to rise in the evening, to denote their belonging to the contemplative; as the four others are made to rise in the morning to signify their belonging to the active life: or perhaps it may mark the succession, in order of time, of the Gospel to the heathen system of morality.]

While yet he spoke, Sordello to himself Drew him, and cried: "Lo there our enemy!" And with his hand pointed that way to look.

Along the side, where barrier none arose Around the little vale, a serpent lay, Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food. Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake Came on, reverting oft his lifted head;

And, as a beast that smooths its polish'd coat, Licking his back. I saw not, nor can tell, How those celestial falcons from their seat Moved, but in motion each one well described. Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes, The serpent fled; and, to their stations, back The Angels up return'd with equal flight.

The spirit, (who to Nino, when he call'd, Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken, Through all that conflict, loosen'd not his sight.

"So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high, Find, in thy free resolve, of wax so much, As may suffice thee to the enamel'd height." It thus began: "If any certain news Of Valdimagra and the neighbour part Thou know'st, tell me, who once was mighty there. They call'd me Conrad Malaspina; not That old one, but from him I sprang. The love I bore my people is now here refined."

"In your domains," I answer'd, "ne'er was I. But, through all Europe, where do those men dwell, To whom their glory is not manifest? The fame, that honours your illustrious house, Proclaims the nobles, and proclaims the land; So that he knows it, who was never there. I swear to you, so may my upward route Prosper, your honoured nation not impairs The value of her coffer and her sword. Nature and use give her such privilege, That while the world is twisted from his course By a bad head, she only walks aright, And has the evil way in scorn." He then: "Now pass thee on: seven times the tired sun[10] Revisits not the couch, which with the four feet The forked Aries covers, ere that kind Opinion shall be nail'd into thy brain

[10: The sun shall not enter into the constellation of Aries seven times more, before thou shalt have still better cause for the good opinion thou expressest of Valdimagra, in the kind reception thou shalt there meet with." Dante was hospitably received by the Marchese Marcello, or Morello Malaspina, during his banishment, A. D. 1307.]

With stronger nails than other's speech can drive; If the sure course of judgment be not stay'd."

Purgatory Canto 9

Canto IX

Argument

Dante is carried up the mountain, asleep and dreaming, by Lucia; and, on awakening, finds himself, two hours after sunrise, with Virgil, near the gate of Purgatory, through which they are admitted by the Angel deputed by St. Peter to keep it.

Now the fair consort of Tithonus old, Arisen from her name's beloved arms, Look'd palely o'er the eastern cliff; her brow, Lucent with jewels, glitter'd, set in sign Of that chill animal,[1] who with his train Smites fearful nations: and where then we were, Two steps of her ascent the night had past; And now the third was closing up its wing,[2] When I, who had so much of Adam with me, Sank down upon the grass, o'ercome with sleep, There where all five[3] were seated. In that hour, When near the dawn the swallow her sad lay, Remembering haply ancient grief,[4] renews; And when our minds, more wanderers from the flesh, And less by thought restrain'd are, as 't were, full Of holy divination in their dreams; Then, in a vision, did I seem to view A golden - feather'd eagle in the sky, With open wings, and hovering for descent; And I was in that place, methought, from whence Young Ganymede, from his associates 'reft, Was snatch'd aloft to the high consistory. "Perhaps," thought I within me, "here alone He strikes his quarry, and elsewhere disdains

[1: "Of that chill animal." The scorpion.]

[2: The third was closing up its wing." The night being divided into four watches, I think he may mean that the third was past, and the fourth and last was begun, so that there might be some faint glimmering of morning twilight; and not merely, as Lombardi supposes, that the third watch was drawing toward its close, which would still leave an insurmountable difficulty in the first verse.]

[3: "All five." Virgil, Dante, Sordello, Nino, and Corrado Malaspina.]

[4: "Remembering haply ancient grief." Progne having been changed into a swallow after the outrage done her by Tereus.]

To pounce upon the prey." Therewith, it seem'd, A little wheeling in his aery tour, Terrible as the lightning, rush'd he down, And snatch'd me upward even to the fire. There both, I thought, the eagle and myself Did burn; and so intense the imagined flames, That needs my sleep was broken off. As erst Achilles shook himself, and round him roll'd His waken'd eyeballs, wondering where he was, Whenas his mother had from Chiron fled To Scyros, with him sleeping in her arms; There whence the Greeks did after sunder him; E'en thus I shook me, soon as from my face The slumber parted, turning deadly pale, Like one ice - struck with dread. Sole at my side My comfort stood: and the bright sun was now More than two hours aloft: and to the sea My looks were turn'd. "Fear not," my master cried, "Assured we are at happy point. Thy strength Shrink not, but rise dilated. Thou art come To Purgatory now. Lo! there the cliff That circling bounds it. Lo! the entrance there, Where it doth seem disparted. Ere the dawn Usher'd the day - light, when thy wearied soul Slept in thee, o'er the flowery vale beneath A lady came, and thus bespake me: 'I Am Lucia.[5] Suffer me to take this man, Who slumbers. Easier so his way shall speed.' Sordello and the other gentle shapes Tarrying, she bare thee up: and, as day shone, This summit reach'd: and I pursued her steps. Here did she place thee. First, her lovely eyes That open entrance show'd me; then at once She vanish'd with thy sleep." Like one, whose doubts Are chased by certainty, and terror turn'd To comfort on discovery of the truth, Such was the change in me: and as my guide Beheld me fearless, up along the cliff He moved, and I behind him, toward the height.

[5: "Lucia." See Hell, c. ii 97 and Paradise, c. xxxii. 123.]

Reader! thou markest how my theme doth rise; Nor wonder therefore, if more artfully I prop the structure. Nearer now we drew, Arrived whence, in that part, where first a breach As of a wall appear'd, I could descry A portal, and three steps beneath, that led For inlet there, of different colour each; And one who watch'd, but spake not yet a word. As more and more mine eye did stretch its view, I mark'd him seated on the highest step, In visage such, as past my power to bear. Grasp'd in his hand, a naked sword glanced back The rays so toward me, that I oft in vain My sight directed. "Speak, from whence ye stand;" He cried: "What would ye? Where is your escort? Take heed your coming upward harm ye not."

"A heavenly dame, not skill - less of these things," Replied the instructor, "told us, even now, 'Pass that way: here the gate is.'" - "And may she, Befriending, prosper your ascent," resumed The courteous keeper of the gate: "Come then Before our steps." We straightway thither came.

The lowest stair[6] was marble white, so smooth And polish'd, that therein my mirror'd form Distinct I saw. The next of hue more dark Than sablest grain, a rough and singed block, Crack'd lengthwise and across. The third, that lay Massy above, seem'd porphyry, that flamed Red as the life - blood spouting from a vein. On this God's angel either foot sustain'd, Upon the threshold seated, which appear'd A rock of diamond. Up the trinal steps My leader cheerly drew me. "Ask," said he, "With humble heart, that he unbar the bolt."

[6: The white step suggests the conscience of the penitent reflecting his offences; the burnt and cracked one, his contrition on their account; the porphyry, the fervor with which he resolves on the future pursuit of piety and virtue.]

Piously at his holy feet devolved I cast me, praying him for pity's sake That he would open to me; but first fell

Thrice on my bosom prostrate. Seven times[7] The letter, that denotes the inward stain, He, on my forehead, with the blunted point Of his drawn sword, inscribed. And "Look," he cried, "When enter'd, that thou wash these scars away."

[7: "Seven times." Seven P's, to denote the seven sins (Peccata) of which he was to be cleansed in his passage through Purgatory.]

Ashes, or earth ta'en dry out of the ground, Were of one colour with the robe he wore. From underneath that vestment forth he drew Two keys,[8] of metal twain: the one was gold, Its fellow silver. With the pallid first, And next the burnish'd he so ply'd the gate, As to content me well. "Whenever one Faileth of these, that in the key - hole straight It turn not, to this alley then expect Access in vain." Such were the words he spake. "One is more precious:[9] but the other needs Skill and sagacity, large share of eaeh, Ere its good task to disengage the knot Be worthily perform'd. From Peter these I hold, of him instructed that I err Rather in opening, than in keeping fast; So but the suppliant at my feet implore."

[8: "Two keys." Lombardi remarks that painters have usually drawn St. Peter with two keys, the one of gold and the other of silver; but that Niccolo Alemanni, in his Dissertation de Parietinis Lateranensibus, produces instances of his being represented with one key, and with three. We have here, however, not St. Peter, but an angel deputed by him.]

[9: The golden key denotes the divine authority by which the priest absolves the sinners; the silver, the learning and judgment requisite for the due discharge of that office.]

Then of that hallow'd gate he thrust the door, Exclaiming, "Enter, but this warning hear: He forth again departs who looks behind."

As in the hinges of that sacred ward The swivels turn'd, sonorous metal strong, Harsh was the grating; nor so surlily Roar'd the Tarpeian, when by force bereft Of good Metellus, thenceforth from his loss To leanness doom'd. Attentively I turn'd, Listening the thunder that first issued forth; And "We praise thee, O God," methought I heard,

In accents blended with sweet melody. The strains came o'er mine ear, e'en as the sound Of choral voices, that in solemn chant With organ[10] mingle, and now high and clear Come swelling, now float indistinct away.

[10: "Organ." Organs were used in Italy as early as in the sixth century. If I remember rightly there is a passage in the Emperor Julian's writings, which shows that the organ was not unknown in his time.]

Purgatory Canto 10

Canto X

Argument

Being admitted at the gate of Purgatory, our Poets ascend a winding path up the rock, till they reach an open and level space that extends each way round the mountain. On the side that rises, and which is of white marble, are seen artfully engraven many stories of humility, which whilst they are contemplating, there approach the souls of those who expiate the sin of pride, and who are bent down beneath the weight of heavy stones.

When we had passed the threshold of the gate, (Which the soul's ill affection doth disuse, Making the crooked seem the straighter path,) I heard its closing sound. Had mine eyes turn'd, For that offence what plea might have avail'd?

We mounted up the riven rock, that wound On either side alternate, as the wave Flies and advances. "Here some little art Behoves us," said my leader, "that our steps Observe the varying flexure of the path."

Thus we so slowly sped, that with cleft orb The moon once more o'erhangs her watery couch, Ere we that strait have threaded. But when free, We came, and open, where the mount above One solid mass retires; I spent with toil, And both uncertain of the way, we stood, Upon a plain more lonesome than the roads That traverse desert wilds. From whence the brink Borders upon vacuity, to foot Of the steep bank that rises still, the space Had measured thrice the stature of a man: And, distant as mine eye could wing its flight, To leftward now and now to right despatch'd, That cornice equal in extent appear'd.

Not yet our feet had on that summit moved, When I discover'd that the bank, around, Whose proud uprising all ascent denied, Was marble white; and so exactly wrought With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone Had Polycletus, but e'en nature's self Been shamed. The Angel (who came down to earth With tidings of the peace so many years Wept for in vain, that oped the heavenly gates From their long interdict) before us seem'd, In a sweet act, so sculptured to the life, He look'd no silent image. One had sworn He had said "Hail!" for she was imaged there, By whom the key did open to God's love; And in her act as sensibly imprest That word, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord," As figure seal'd on wax. "Fix not thy mind On one place only," said the guide beloved, Who had me near him on that part where lies The heart of man. My sight forthwith I turn'd, And mark'd, behind the Virgin Mother's form, Upon that side where he that moved me stood, Another story graven on the rock.

I past athwart the bard, and drew me near, That it might stand more aptly for my view. There, in the self - same marble, were engraved The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark, That from unbidden office awes mankind. Before it came much people; and the whole Parted in seven quires. One sense cried "Nay," Another, "Yes, they sing." Like doubt arose Betwixt the eye and smell, from the curl'd fume Of incense breathing up the well - wrought toil. Preceding the blest vessel, onward came With light dance leaping, girt in humble guise, Israel's sweet harper: in that hap he seem'd Less, and yet more, than kingly. Opposite At a great palace, from the lattice forth Look'd Michol, like a lady full of scorn And sorrow. To behold the tablet next, Which, at the back of Michol, whitely shone, I moved me. There, was storied on the rock The exalted glory of the Roman prince, Whose mighty worth moved Gregory[1] to earn His mighty conquest, Trajan the Emperor. A widow at his bridle stood, attired In tears and mourning. Round about them troop'd Full throng of knights; and overhead in gold The eagles floated, struggling with the wind. The wretch appear'd amid all these to say: "Grant vengeance, Sire! for, woe beshrew this heart, My son is murder'd." He replying seem'd: "Wait now till I return." And she, as one Made hasty by her grief: "O Sire! if thou Dost not return?" - "Where I am, who then is, May right thee." - "What to thee is other's good, If thou neglect thy own?" - "Now comfort thee;" At length he answers. "It beseemeth well My duty be perform'd, ere I move hence: So justice wills; and pity bids me stay."

[1: "Gregory." St. Gregory's prayers are said to have delivered Trajan from hell. See Paradise, Canto xx. 40.]

He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produced That visible speaking, new to us and strange, The like not found on earth. Fondly I gazed Upon those patterns of meek humbleness, Shapes yet more precious for their artist's sake; When "Lo!" the poet whisper'd, "where this way (But slack their pace) a multitude advance, These to the lofty steps shall guide us on."

Mine eyes, though bent on view of novel sights, Their loved allurement, were not slow to turn.

Reader! I would not that amazed thou miss Of thy good purpose, hearing how just God Decrees our debts be cancel'd. Ponder not The form of suffering. Think on what succeeds: Think that, at worst, beyond the mighty doom It cannot pass. "Instructor!" I began, "What I see hither tending, bears no trace Of human semblance, nor of aught beside

That my foil'd sight can guess." He answering thus: "So curb'd to earth, beneath their heavy terms Of torment stoop they, that mine eye at first Struggled as thine. But look intently thither; And disentangle with thy laboring view, What, underneath those stones, approacheth: now, E'en now, mayst thou discern the pangs of each."

Christians and proud! O poor and wretched ones! That, feeble in the mind's eye, lean your trust Upon unstaid perverseness: know ye not That we are worms, yet made at last to form The winged insect,[2] imp'd with angel plumes, That to Heaven's justice unobstructed soars? Why buoy ye up aloft your unfledged souls? Abortive then and shapeless ye remain, Like the untimely embryon of a worm.

[2: "The winged insect." The butterfly was an ancient and well - known symbol of the human soul.]

As, to support incumbent floor or roof, For corbel, is a figure sometimes seen, That crumples up its knees unto its breast; With the feign'd posture, stirring ruth unfeign'd In the beholder's fancy; so I saw These fashion'd, when I noted well their guise.

Each, as his back was laden, came indeed Or more or less contracted; and it seem'd As he, who show'd most patience in his look, Wailing exclaim'd: "I can endure no more."

Purgatory Canto 11

Canto XI

Argument

After a prayer uttered by the spirits, who were spoken of in the last Canto, Virgil inquires the way upward, and is answered by one, who declares himself to have been Omberto, son of the Count of Santafiore. Next our Poet distinguishes Oderigi, the illuminator, who discourses on the vanity of worldly fame, and points out to him the soul of Provenzano Salvani.

O Thou Almighty Father! who dost make The heavens Thy dwelling, not in bounds confined, But that, with love intenser, there Thou view'st Thy primal effluence; hallow'd be thy name: Join, each created being, to extol

Thy might; for worthy humblest thanks and praise Is Thy blest Spirit. May Thy kingdom's peace Come unto us; for we, unless it come, With all our striving, thither tend in vain. As, of their will, the Angels unto Thee Tender meet sacrifice, circling Thy throne With loud hosannas; so of theirs be done By saintly men on earth. Grant us, this day, Our daily manna, without which he roams Through this rough desert retrograde, who most Toils to advance his steps. As we to each Pardon the evil done us, pardon Thou Benign, and of our merit take no count. 'Gainst the old adversary, prove Thou not Our virtue, easily subdued; but free From his incitements, and defeat his wiles. This last petition, dearest Lord! is made Not for ourselves; since that were needless now; But for their sakes who after us remain."

Thus for themselves and us good speed imploring, Those spirits went beneath a weight like that We sometimes feel in dreams; all, sore beset, But with unequal anguish; wearied all; Round the first circuit; purging as they go The world's gross darkness off. In our behoof If their vows still be offer'd, what can here For them be vow'd and done by such, whose wills Have root of goodness in them? Well beseems That we should help them wash away the stains They carried hence; that so, made pure and light, They may spring upward to the starry spheres.

"Ah! so may mercy - temper'd justice rid Your burdens speedily; that ye have power To stretch your wing, which e'en to your desire Shall lift you; as ye show us on which hand Toward the ladder leads the shortest way. And if there be more passages than one, Instruct us of that easiest to ascend: For this man, who comes with me, and bears yet The charge of fleshly raiment Adam left him, Despite his better will, but slowly mounts." From whom the answer came unto these words, Which my guide spake, appear'd not; but 'twas said: "Along the bank to rightward come with us; And ye shall find a pass that mocks not toil Of living man to climb: and were it not That I am hinder'd by the rock, wherewith This arrogant neck is tamed, whence needs I stoop My visage to the ground; him, who yet lives, Whose name thou speak'st not, him I fain would view; To mark if e'er I knew him, and to crave His pity for the fardel that I bear. I was of Latium;[1] of a Tuscan born, A mighty one: Aldobrandesco's name My sire's, I know not if ye e'er have heard. My old blood and forefathers' gallant deeds Made me so haughty, that I clean forgot The common mother; and to such excess Wax'd in my scorn of all men, that I fell, Fell therefore; by what fate, Siena's sons. Each child in Campagnatico, can tell. I am Omberto: not me, only, pride Hath injured, but my kindred all involved In mischief with her. Here my lot ordains Under this weight to groan, till I appease God's angry justice, since I did it not Amongst the living, here amongst the dead."

[1: "I was of Latium." Omberto, the son of Guglielmo Aldobrandesco, Count of Santafiore, in the territory of Siena. His arrogance provoked his countrymen to such a pitch of fury against him that he was murdered by them at Campagnatico.]

Listening I bent my visage down: and one (Not he who spake) twisted beneath the weight That urged him, saw me, knew me straight, and call'd; Holding his eyes with difficulty fix'd Intent upon me, stooping as I went Companion of their way. "O!" I exclaim'd, "Art thou not Oderigi?[2] art not thou Agobbio's glory, glory of that art Which they of Paris call the limner's skill?"

[2: The illuminator, or miniature painter, a friend of Giotto and Dante.]

"Brother!" said he, "with tints, that gayer smile,

Bolognian Franco's[3] pencil lines the leaves. His all the honour now; my light obscured. In truth, I had not been thus courteous to him The whilst I lived, through eagerness of zeal For that pre - eminence my heart was bent on. Here, of such pride, the forfeiture is paid. Nor were I even here, if, able still To sin, I had not turn'd me unto God. O powers of man! how vain your glory, nipt E'en in its height of verdure, if an age Less bright succeed not. Cimabue thought To lord it over painting's field; and now The cry is Giotto's,[4] and his name eclipsed. Thus hath one Guido from the other[5] snatch'd The letter'd prize: and he, perhaps, is born, Who shall drive either from their nest. The noise Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind, That blows from diverse points, and shifts its name, Shifting the point it blows from. Shalt thou more Live in the mouths of mankind, if thy flesh Part shrivel'd from thee, than if thou hadst died Before the coral and the pap were left; Or e'er some thousand years have past? and that Is, to eternity compared, a space Briefer than is the twinkling of an eye To the heaven's slowest orb. He there, who treads So leisurely before me, far and wide Through Tuscany resounded once; and now Is in Siena scarce with whispers named: There was he sovereign, when destruction caught The maddening rage of Florence, in that day Proud as she now is loathsome. Your renown Is as the herb, whose hue doth come and go;

[3: Franco of Bologna, who is said to have been a pupil of Oderigi's.]

[4: "The cry is Giotto's." In Giotto we have a proof at how early a period the fine arts were encouraged in Italy. His talents were discovered by Cimabue, while he was tending sheep for his father in the neighborhood of Florence, and he was afterward patronized by Pope Benedict XI and Robert, King of Naples; and enjoyed the society and friendship of Dante, whose likeness he has transmitted to posterity.]

[5: Guido Cavalcanti, the friend of our Poet, had eclipsed the literary fame of Guido Guinicelli. See also the twenty - sixth Canto.]

And his might withers it, by whom it sprang Crude from the lap of earth." I thus to him: "True are thy sayings: to my heart they breathe The kindly spirit of meekness, and allay What tumours rankle there. But who is he, Of whom thou spakest but now?" - "This," he replied, "I Provenzano. He is here, because He reach'd with grasp presumptuous, at the sway Of all Siena. Thus he still hath gone, Thus goeth never - resting, since he died. Such is the acquittance render'd back of him, Who, in the mortal life, too much hath dared." I then: "If soul, that to life's verge delays Repentance, linger in that lower space, Nor hither mount, (unless good prayers befriend), Or ever time, long as it lived, be past; How chanced admittance was vouchsafed to him?"

"When at his glory's topmost height," said he, "Respect of dignity all cast aside, Freely he fix'd him on Siena's plain, A suitor[6] to redeem his suffering friend, Who languish'd in the prison - house of Charles; Nor, for his sake, refused through every vein To tremble. More I will not say; and dark, I know, my words are; but thy neighbours soon Shall help thee to a comment on the text. This is the work, that from these limits freed him."

[6: Provenzano Salvani, for the sake of one of his friends who was detained in captivity by Charles I of Sicily, personally supplicated the people of Siena to contribute the ransom required by the King; and this act of self - abasement atoned for his general ambition. He fell at Vald' Elsa, where the Florentines discomfited the Sienese in June, 1269.]

Purgatory Canto 12

Canto XII

Argument

Dante, being desired by Virgil to look down on the ground which they are treading, observes that it is wrought over with imagery exhibiting various instances of pride recorded in history and fable. They leave the first cornice, and are ushered to the next by an angel who points out the way.

With equal pace, as oxen in the yoke, I, with that laden spirit, journey'd on, Long as the mild instructor suffer'd me; But, when he bade me quit him, and proceed, (For "Here," said he, "behoves with sail and oars Each man, as best he may, push on his bark,") Upright, as one disposed for speed, I raised My body, still in thought submissive bow'd.

I now my leader's track not loth pursued; And each had shown how light we fared along, When thus he warned me: "Bend thine eyesight down, For thou, to ease the way, shalt find it good To ruminate the bed beneath thy feet."

As, in memorial of the buried, drawn Upon earth - level tombs, the sculptured form Of what was once, appears, (at sight whereof Tears often stream forth, by remembrance waked, Whose sacred stings the piteous often feel), So saw I there, but with more curious skill Of portraiture o'erwrought, whate'er of space From forth the mountain stretches. On one part Him I beheld, above all creatures erst Created noblest, lightening fall from Heaven: On the other side, with bolt celestial pierced, Briareus; cumbering earth he lay, through dint Of mortal ice - stroke. The Thymbraean god,[1] With Mars, I saw, and Pallas, round their sire, Arm'd still, and gazing on the giants' limbs Strewn o'er the ethereal field. Nimrod I saw: At foot of the stupendous work he stood, As if bewilder'd, looking on the crowd Leagued in his proud attempt on Sennaar's plain.

[1: "The Thymbraean god." Apollo.]

O Niobe! in what a trance of woe

Thee I beheld, upon that highway drawn, Seven sons on either side thee slain. O Saul! How ghastly didst thou look, on thine own sword Expiring, in Gilboa, from that hour Ne'er visited with rain from heaven, or dew.

O fond Arachne! thee I also saw, Half spider now, in anguish, crawling up The unfinish'd web thou weaved'st to thy bane.

O Rehoboam! here thy shape doth seem Louring no more defiance; but fear - smote, With none to chase him, in his chariot whirl'd.

Was shown beside upon the solid floor, How dear Alcmaeon forced his mother rate That ornament, in evil hour received: How, in the temple, on Sennacherib fell His sons, and how a corpse they left him there. Was shown the scath, and cruel mangling made By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried, "Blood thou didst thirst for: take thy fill of blood." Was shown how routed in the battle fled The Assyrians, Holofernes slain, and e'en The relics of the carnage. Troy I mark'd, In ashes and in caverns. Oh! how fallen, How abject, Ilion, was thy semblance there.

What master of the pencil or the style Had traced the shades and lines, that might have made The subtlest workman wonder? Dead, the dead; The living seem'd alive: with clearer view, His eye beheld not, who beheld the truth, Than mine what I did tread on, while I went Low bending. Now swell out, and with stiff necks Pass on, ye sons of Eve! vale not your looks, Lest they descry the evil of your path.

I noted not (so busied was my thought) How much we now had circled of the mount; And of his course yet more the sun had spent; When he, who with still wakeful caution went, Admonish'd: "Raise thou up thy head: for know Time is not now for slow suspense. Behold, That way, an Angel hasting toward us. Lo, When duly the sixth handmaid doth return From service on the day. Wear thou, in look And gesture, seemly grace of reverent awe; That gladly he may forward us aloft. Consider that this day ne'er dawns again."

Time's loss he had so often warn'd me 'gainst, I could not miss the scope at which he aim'd.

The goodly shape approach'd us, snowy white In vesture, and with visage casting streams Of tremulous lustre like the matin star. His arms he open'd, then his wings; and spake: "Onward! the steps, behold, are near; and now The ascent is without difficulty gain'd."

A scanty few are they, who, when they hear Such tidings, hasten. O, ye race of men! Though born to soar, why suffer ye a wind So slight to baffle ye? He led us on Where the rock parted; here, against my front, Did beat his wings; then promised I should fare In safety on my way. As to ascend That steep, upon whose brow the chapel stands,[2] (O'er Rubaconte, looking lordly down On the well - guided city[3]), up the right The impetuous rise is broken by the steps Carved in that old and simple age, when still The registry[4] and label rested safe; Thus is the acclivity relieved, which here, Precipitous, from the other circuit falls: But, on each hand, the tall cliff presses close.

[2: "The chapel stands." The church of San Miniato in Florence, situated on a height that overlooks the Arno, where it is crossed by the bridge Rubaconte, so called from Messer Rubaconte da Mandella, of Milan, chief magistrate of Florence, by whom the bridge was founded in 1237. [The bridge is now generally known as the Ponte alle Grazie. - Ed.]]

[3: "The well - guided city." This is said ironically of Florence.]

[4: "The registry." In allusion to certain instances of fraud committed in Dante's time with respect to the public accounts and measures.]

As, entering, there we turn'd, voices, in strain Ineffable, sang: "Blessed[5] are the poor In spirit." Ah! how far unlike to these

[5: "Blessed." "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matt. v. 3.]

The straits of Hell: here songs to usher us, There shrieks of woe. We climb the holy stairs: And lighter to myself by far I seem'd Than on the plain before; whence thus I spake: "Say, master, of what heavy thing have I Been lighten'd; that scarce aught the sense of toil Affects me journeying?" He in few replied: "When sin's broad characters,[6] that yet remain Upon thy temples, though well nigh effaced, Shall be, as one is, all clean razed out; Then shall thy feet by heartiness of will Be so o'ercome, they not alone shall feel No sense of labor, but delight much more Shall wait them, urged along their upward way."

[6: "Sin's broad characters." Of the seven P's, that denoted the same number of sins (Peccata) whereof he was to be cleansed (see Canto ix. 100), the first had now vanished in consequence of his having passed the place where the sin of pride, the chief of them, was expiated.]

Then like to one, upon whose head is placed Somewhat he deems not of, but from the becks Of others, as they pass him by; his hand Lends therefore help to assure him, searches, finds, And well performs such office as the eye Wants power to execute; so stretching forth The fingers of my right hand, did I find Six only of the letters, which his sword, Who bare the keys, had traced upon my brow. The leader, as he mark'd mine action, smiled.

Purgatory Canto 13

Canto XIII

Argument

They gain the second cornice, where the sin of envy is purged; and having proceeded a little to the right, they hear voices uttered by invisible spirits recounting famous examples of charity, and next behold the shades, or souls, of the envious clad in sackcloth, and having their eyes sewed up with an iron thread. Amongst these Dante finds Sapia, a Siennese lady, from whom he learns the cause of her being there.

We reach'd the summit of the scale, and stood Upon the second buttress of that mount Which healeth him who climbs. A cornice there Like to the former, girdles round the hill; Save that its arch, with sweep less ample, bends.

Shadow, nor image there, is seen: all smooth The rampart and the path, reflecting naught But the rock's sullen hue. "If here we wait, For some to question," said the bard, "I fear Our choice may haply meet too long delay."

Then fixedly upon the sun his eyes He fasten'd; made his right the central point From whence to move; and turn'd the left aside. "O pleasant light, my confidence and hope! Conduct us thou," he cried, "on this new way, Where now I venture; leading to the bourn We seek. The universal world to thee Owes warmth and lustre. If no other cause Forbid, thy beams should ever be our guide."

Far, as in measured for a mile on earth, In brief space had we journey'd; such prompt will Impell'd; and toward us flying, now were heard Spirits invisible, who courteously Unto love's table bade the welcome guest. The voice, that first flew by, call'd forth aloud, "They have no wine," so on behind us past, Those sounds reiterating, nor yet lost In the faint distance, when another came Crying, "I am Orestes,"[1] and alike Wing'd its fleet way. "O father!" I exclaim'd, "What tongues are these?" and as I question'd, lo! A third exclaiming, "Love ye those have wrong'd you."

[1: "Orestes." Alluding to his friendship with Pylades.]

"This circuit," said my teacher, "knots the scourge For envy; and the cords are therefore drawn By charity's correcting hand. The curb Is of a harsher sound; as thou shalt hear (If I deem rightly) ere thou reach the pass, Where pardon sets them free. But fix thine eyes Intently through the air; and thou shalt see A multitude before thee seated, each Along the shelving grot." Then more than erst I oped mine eyes; before me view'd; and saw Shadows with garments dark as was the rock; And when we pass'd a little forth, I heard

A crying, "Blessed Mary! pray for us, Michael and Peter! all ye saintly host!"

I do not think there walks on earth this day Man so remorseless, that he had not yearn'd With pity at the sight that next I saw. Mine eyes a load of sorrow teem'd, when now I stood so near them, that their semblances Came clearly to my view. Of sackcloth vile Their covering seem'd; and, on his shoulder, one Did stay another, leaning; and all lean'd Against the cliff. E'en thus the blind and poor, Near the confessionals, to crave an alms, Stand, each his head upon his fellow's sunk; So most to stir compassion, not by sound Of words alone, but that which moves not less, The sight of misery. And as never beam Of noon - day visiteth the eyeless man, E'en so was heaven a niggard unto these Of his fair light: for, through the orbs of all, A thread of wire, impiercing, knits them up, As for the taming of a haggard hawk. It were a wrong, methought, to pass and look On others, yet myself the while unseen. To my sage counsel therefore did I turn. He knew the meaning of the mute appeal, Nor waited for my questioning, but said: "Speak; and be brief, be subtile in thy words."

On that part of the cornice, whence no rim Engarlands its steep fall, did Virgil come; On the other side me were the spirits, their cheeks Bathing devout with penitential tears, That through the dread impalement forced a way.

I turn'd me to them, and "O shades!" said I, "Assured that to your eyes unveil'd shall shine The lofty light, sole object of your wish, So may Heaven's grace clear whatsoe'er of foam Floats turbid on the conscience, that thenceforth The stream of mind roll limpid from its source; As ye declare (for so shall ye impart A boon I dearly prize) if any soul Of Latium dwell among ye: and perchance That soul may profit, if I learn so much."

"My brother! we are, each one, citizens Of one true city.[2] Any, thou wouldst say, Who lived a stranger in Italia's land."

[2: "_____ Citizens of one true city!" "For here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." - Heb. xiii. 14.]

So heard I answering, as appear'd, a voice That onward came some space from whence I stood.

A spirit I noted, in whose look was mark'd Expectance. Ask ye how? The chin was raised As in one reft of sight. "Spirit," said I, "Who for thy rise art tutoring, (if thou be That which didst answer to me), or by place, Or name, disclose thyself, thy I may know thee."

"I was," it answer'd, "of Sienna: here I cleanse away with these the evil life, Soliciting with tears that He, who is, Vouchsafe Him to us. Though Sapia[3] named, In sapience I excell'd not; gladder far Of other's hurt, than of the good befell me. That thou mayst own I now deceive thee not, Hear, if my folly were not as I speak it. When now my tears sloped waning down the arch, It so bechanced, my fellow - citizens Near Colle met their enemies in the field; And I pray'd God to grant what He had will'd.[4] There were they vanquish'd, and betook themselves Unto the bitter passages of flight. I mark'd the hunt; and waxing out of bounds In gladness, lifted up my shameless brow, And, like the merlin[5] cheated by a gleam, Cried: 'Itcis over. Heaven! I fear thee not.' Upon my verge of life I wish'd for peace With God; nor yet repentance had supplied What I did lack of duty, were it not

[3: "Sapia." A lady of Sienna, living in exile at Colle, so overjoyed at a defeat which her countrymen sustained near that place, that she declared nothing more was wanting to make her die contended.]

[4: "_____ What He had will'd." That her countrymen should be defeated in battle.]

[5: Induced by a gleam of fine weather in the winter to escape from his master, the merlin was soon oppressed by the rigor of the season.]

The hermit Piero,[6] touch'd with charity, In his devout orisons though on me. But who art thou that question'st of our state, Who go'st, as I believe, with lids unclosed, And breathest in thy talk?" - "Mine eyes," said I, "May yet be here ta'en from me; but not long; For they have not offended grievously With envious glances. But the woe beneath[7] Urges my soul with more exceeding dread. That nether load already weighs me down."

[6: "The hermit Piero." Piero Pettinagno, a holy hermit of Florence.]

[7: Dante felt that he was much more subject to the sin of pride, than to that of envy.]

She thus: "Who then, amongst us here aloft, Hath brought thee, if thou weenest to return?"

"He," answered I, "who standeth mute beside me. I live: of me ask therefore, chosen spirit! If thou desire I yonder yet should move For thee my mortal feet." - "Oh!" she replied, "This is so strange a thing, it is great sign That God doth love thee. Therefore with thy prayer Sometime assist me: and, by that I crave, Which most thou covetest, that if thy feet E'er tread on Tuscan soil, thou save my fame Amongst my kindred. Them shalt thou behold With that vain multitude,[8] who set their hope On Telamone's haven; there to fail Confounded, more than when the fancied stream They sought, of Dian call'd: but they, who lead Their navies, more than ruin'd hopes shall mourn."

[8: The Sienese.]

Purgatory Canto 14

Canto XIV

Argument

Our Poet on this second cornice finds also the souls of Guido del Duca of Brettinoro, and Rinieri da Calboli of Romagna; the latter of whom, hearing that he comes from the banks of the Arno, inveighs against the degeneracy of all those who dwell in the cities visited by that stream; and the former, in like manner, against the inhabitants of Romagna. On leaving these, our Poets hear voices recording noted instances of envy.

"Say,[1] who is he around our mountain winds, Or ever death has pruned his wing to flight; That opens his eyes, and covers them at will?" "I know not who he is, but know thus much; He comes not singly. Do thou ask of him, For thou art nearer to him; and take heed, Accost him gently, so that he may speak."

[1: "Say." The two spirits who thus speak to each other are Guido del Duca, of Brettinoro, and Rinieri da Calboli, of Romagna.]

Thus on the right two spirits, bending each Toward the other, talk'd of me; then both Addressing me, their faces backward lean'd, And thus the one[2] began: "O soul, who yet Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky! For charity, we pray thee, comfort us; Recounting whence thou comest, and who thou art: For thou dost make us, at the favor shown thee, Marvel, as at a thing that ne'er hath been."

[2: "The one." Guido del Duca.]

"There stretches through the midst of Tuscany," I straight began, "a brooklet,[3] whose well - head Springs up in Falterona; with his race Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles Hath measured. From his banks bring I this frame. To tell you who I am were words mis - spent: For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour's lip."

[3: The Arno, that rises in Falterona, a mountain in the Apennines. Its course is 120 miles.]

"If well I do incorporate with my thought The meaning of thy speech," said he, who first Address'd me, "thou dost speak of Arno's wave."

To whom the other:[4] "Why hath he conceal'd The title of that river, as a man Doth of some horrible thing?" The spirit, who

[4: Rinieri da Calboli.]

Thereof was question'd, did acquit him thus: "I know not: but 'tis fitting well the name Should perish of that vale; for from the source,[5] Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep Maim'd of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass Beyond that limit), even to the point Where unto ocean is restored what heaven Drains from the exhaustless store for all earth's streams, Throughout the space is virtue worried down, As't were a snake, by all, for mortal foe; Or through disastrous influence on the place, Or else distortion of misguided wills That custom goads to evil: whence in those, The dwellers in that miserable vale, Nature is so transform'd, it seems as they Had shared of Circe's feeding. 'Midst brute swine,[6] Worthier of acorns than of other food Created for man's use, he shapeth first His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds Curs,[7] snarlers more in spite than power, from whom He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down, By how much more the curst and luckless foss[8] Swells out to largeness, e'en so much it finds Dogs turning into wolves.[9] Descending still Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets A race of foxes,[10] so replete with craft, They do not fear that skill can master it. Nor will I cease because my words are heard[11] By other ears than thine. It shall be well For this man,[12] if he keep in memory What from no erring spirit I reveal. Lo! I behold thy grandson,[13] that becomes

[5: From the rise of the Arno in the Apennines, whence Pelorus in Sicily was torn by a convulsion of the earth, even to the point where the same river unites with the ocean, Virtue is persecuted by all.]

[6: The people of Casentino.]

[7: "Curs." The Arno leaves Arezzo about four miles to the left.]

[8: "Foss." So in his anger he terms the Arno.]

[9: "Wolves." The Florentines.]

[10: "Foxes." The Pisans.]

[11: Guido still addresses Rinieri.]

[12: For Dante, who has told us that he comes from the banks of Arno.]

[13: "Thy grandson." Fulcieri da Calboli, grandson of Rinieri da Calboli, who is here spoken to. The atrocities predicted came to pass in 1302.]

A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore Of the fierce stream; and cows them all with dread. Their flesh, yet living, sets he up to sale, Then, like an aged beast, to slaughter dooms. Many of life he reaves, himself of worth And goodly estimation. Smear'd with gore, Mark how he issues from the rueful wood; Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years It spreads not to prime lustihood again."

As one, who tidings hears of woe to come, Changes his looks perturb'd, from whate'er part The peril grasp him; so beheld I change That spirit, who had turn'd to listen; struck With sadness, soon as he had caught the word.

His visage, and the other's speech, did raise Desire in me to know the names of both; Whereof, with meek entreaty, I inquired.

The shade, who late address'd me, thus resumed: "Thy wish imports, that I vouchsafe to do For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine. But, since God's will is that so largely shine His grace in thee, I will be liberal too. Guido of Duca know then that I am. Envy so parch'd my blood, that had I seen A fellow man made joyous, thou had'st mark'd A livid paleness overspread my cheek. Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow'd. O man! why place thy heart where there doth need Exclusion of participants in good? This is Rinieri's spirit; this, the boast And honour of the house of Calboli; Where of his worth no heritage remains. Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript ('Twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore[14]) Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss: But, in those limits, such a growth has sprung Of rank and venom'd roots, as long would mock Slow culture's toil. Where is good Lizio?[15] where

[14: The boundaries of Romagna.]

[15: "Lizio." Lizio da Valbona introduced into Boccaccio's Decameron, G. v. N. 4.]

Mainardi, Traversaro, and Carpigna?[16] O bastard slips of old Romagna's line! When in Bologna the low artisan,[17] And in Faenza yon Bernardin[18] sprouts, A gentle cyon from ignoble stem. Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep, When I recall to mind those once loved names, Guido of Prata,[19] and of Azzo him[20] That dwelt with us; Tignoso[21] and his troop, With Traversaro's house and Anastagio's,[22] (Each race disherited); and beside these, The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease, That witch'd us into love and courtesy; Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts O Brettinoro![23] wherefore tarriest still, Since forth of thee thy family hath gone, And many, hating evil, join'd their steps? Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease, Bagnacavallo;[24] Castrocaro ill, And Conio worse,[25] who care to propagate A race of Counties[26] from such blood as theirs. Well shall ye also do, Pagani,[27] then When from amongst you hies your demon child; Not so, howe'er, that thenceforth there remain

[16: Arrigo Manardi, of Faenza, or, as some say, of Brettinoro; Pier Traversaro, Lord of Ravenna; and Guido di Carpigna, of Montefeltro.]

[17: One who had been a mechanic, named Lambertaccio, arrived at almost supreme power in Bologna.]

[18: Benardin di Fosco, a man of low origin, but great talents, who governed at Faenza.]

[19: "Prata." A place between Faenza and Ravenna.]

[20: "Of Azzo him." Ugolino, of the Ubaldini family in Tuscany.]

[21: Federigo Tignoso of Rimini.]

[22: Two noble families of Ravenna.]

[23: "O Brettinoro." A beautifully situated castle in Romagna, the hospitable residence of Guido del Duca, who is here speaking. Landino relates that there were several of this family who, when a stranger arrived among them contended with one another by whom he should be entertained; and that in order to end this dispute, they set up a pillar with as many rings as there were father of families among them, a ring being assigned to each, and that accordingly as a stranger on his arrival hung his horse's bridle on one or other of these, he became his guest to whom the ring belonged.]

[24: "Bagnacavallo." A castle between Imola and Ravenna.]

[25: "- Castrocaro ill, and Conio worse." Both in Romagna.]

[26: "Counties." I have used this word here for "counts," as it is in Shakespeare.]

[27: "Pagani." The Pagani were lords of Faenza and Imola. One of them, Machinardo, was named "the Demon," from his treachery. See Hell, Canto xxvii. 47 and note.]

True proof of what ye were. O Hugolin,[28] Thou sprung of Fantolini's line! thy name Is safe; since none is look'd for after thee To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock. But, Tuscan! go thy ways; for now I take Far more delight in weeping, than in words. Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart."

[28: "Hugolin." Ugolino Ubaldini, a noble and virtuous person in Faenza, who, on account of his age probably, was not likely to leave any offspring behind him.]

We knew those gentle spirits, at parting, heard Our steps. Their silence therefore, of our way, Assured us. Soon as we had quitted them, Advancing onward, lo! a voice, that seem'd Like volley'd lightning, when it rives the air, Met us, and shouted, "Whosoever finds Will slay me"; then fled from us, as the bolt Lanced sudden from a downward - rushing cloud. When it had given short truce unto our hearing, Behold the other with a crash as loud As the quick - following thunder: "Mark in me Aglauros, turn'd to rock." I, at the sound Retreating, drew more closely to my guide.

Now in mute stillness rested all the air; And thus he spake: "There was the galling bit, Which should keep man within his boundary. But your old enemy so baits the hook, He drags you eager to him. Hence nor curb Avails you, nor reclaiming call. Heaven calls, And, round about you wheeling, courts your gaze With everlasting beauties. Yet your eye Turns with fond doting still upon the earth. Therefore He smites you who discerneth all."

Purgatory Canto 15

Canto XV

Argument

An Angel invites them to ascend the next steep. On their way Dante suggests certain doubts, which are resolved by Virgil; and, when they reach the third cornice, where the sin of anger is purged, our Poet, in a kind of waking dream, beholds remarkable instances of patience; and soon after they are enveloped in a dense fog.

As much as 'twixt the third hour's close and dawn, Appeareth of Heaven's sphere, that ever whirls As restless as an infant in his play; So much appear'd remaining to the sun Of his slope journey towards the western goal.

Evening was there, and here the noon of night; And full upon our forehead smote the beams. For round the mountain, circling, so our path Had led us, that toward the sunset now Direct we journey'd; when I felt a weight Of more exceeding splendour, than before, Press on my front. The cause unknown, amaze Possess'd me! and both hands against my brows Lifting, I interposed them, as a screen, That of its gorgeous superflux of light Clips the diminish'd orb. As when the ray, Striking on water or the surface clear Of mirror, leaps unto the opposite part, Ascending at a glance, e'en as it fell, And as much differs from the stone, that falls Through equal space, (so practic skill hath shown); Thus, with refracted light, before me seem'd The ground there smitten; whence, in sudden haste, My sight recoil'd. "What is this, sire beloved! 'Gainst which I strive to shield the sight in vain?" Cried I, "and which toward us moving seems?"

"Marvel not, if the family of Heaven," He answer'd, "yet with dazzling radiance dim Thy sense. It is a messenger who comes, Inviting man's ascent. Such sights ere long, Not grievous, shall impart to thee delight, As thy perception is by nature wrought Up to their pitch." The blessed Angel, soon As we had reach'd him, hail'd us with glad voice: "Here enter on a ladder far less steep Than ye have yet encounter'd." We forthwith Ascending, heard behind us chanted sweet, "Blessed the merciful,"[1] and "Happy thou, That conquer'st." Lonely each, my guide and I, Pursued our upward way; and as we went, Some profit from his words I hoped to win, And thus of him inquiring, framed my speech: "What meant Romagna's spirit,[2] when he spake Of bliss exclusive, with no partner shared?"

[1: "Blessed the merciful." Matt. v. 7.]

[2: Guido del Duca, of Brettinoro.]

He straight replied: "No wonder, since he knows What sorrow waits on his own worst defect, If he chide others, that they less may mourn. Because ye point your wishes at a mark, Where, by communion of possessors, part Is lessen'd, envy bloweth up men's sighs. No fear of that might touch ye, if the love Of higher sphere exalted your desire. For there, by how much more they call it ours, So much propriety of each in good Increases more, and heighten'd charity Wraps that fair cloister in a brighter flame."

"Now lack I satisfaction more," said I, "Than if thou hadst been silent at the first; And doubt more gathers on my labouring thought. How can it chance, that good distributed, The many, that possess it, makes more rich, Than if 't were shared by few?" He answering thus: "Thy mind, reverting still to things of earth, Strikes darkness from true light. The highest Good Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed To love, as beam to lucid body darts, Giving as much of ardour as it finds. The sempiternal effluence streams abroad, Spreading, wherever charity extends; So that the more aspirants to that bliss Are multiplied, more good is there to love, And more is loved; as mirrors, that reflect,

Each unto other, propagated light. If these my words avail not to allay Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see, Who of this want, and of all else thou hast, Shall rid thee to the full. Provide but thou, That from thy temples may be soon erased, E'en as the two already, those five scars, That, when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal."

"Thou," I had said, "content'st me"; when I saw The other round was gain'd, and wondering eyes Did keep me mute. There suddenly I seem'd By an ecstatic vision wrapt away; And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd Of many persons; and at the entrance stood A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express A mother's love, who said, "Child! why hast thou Dealt with us thus? Behold thy sire and I Sorrowing have sought thee"; and so held her peace; And straight the vision fled. A female next Appear'd before me, down whose visage coursed Those waters, that grief forces out from one By deep resentment stung, who seem'd to say: 'If thou, Pisistratus, be lord indeed Over this city,[3] named with such debate Of adverse gods, and whence each science sparkles, Avenge thee of those arms, whose bold embrace Hath clasp'd our daughter"; and to her, meseem'd, Benign and meek, with visage undisturb'd, Her sovran spake: "How shall we those requite[4] Who wish us evil, if we thus condemn The man that loves us?" After that I saw A multitude, in fury burning, slay With stones a stripling youth,[5] and shout amain "Destroy, destroy"; and him I saw, who bow'd

[3: "Over this city." Athens, named after Minerva (AONVN), in consequence of her having produced a more valuable gift for it in the olive than Neptune had done in the horse.]

[4: "How shall we those requite?" The answer of Pisistratus the tyrant to his wife, when she urged him to inflict the punishment of death on a young man, who, inflamed with love for his daughter, had snatched a kiss from her in public.]

[5: "A stripling youth." The Protomartyr Stephen.]

Heavy with death unto the ground, yet made His eyes, unfolded upward, gates to Heaven, Praying forgiveness of the Almighty Sire, Amidst that cruel conflict, on his foes, With looks that win compassion to their aim.

Soon as my spirit, from her airy flight Returning, sought again the things whose truth Depends not on her shaping, I observed She had not roved to falsehood in her dreams.

Meanwhile the leader, who might see I moved As one who struggles to shake off his sleep, Exclaim'd: "What ails thee, that thou canst not hold Thy footing firm; but more than half a league Hast travel'd with closed eyes and tottering gait, Like to a man by wine or sleep o'ercharged?"

"Beloved father! so thou deign," said I, "To listen, I will tell thee what appear'd Before me, when so fail'd my sinking steps."

He thus: "Not if thy countenance were mask'd With hundred vizards, could a thought of thine, How small soe'er, elude me. What thou saw'st Was shown, that freely thou mightst ope thy heart To the waters of peace, that flow diffused From their eternal fountain. I not ask'd, What ails thee? for such cause as he doth, who Looks only with that eye, which sees no more, When spiritless the body lies; but ask'd, To give fresh vigour to thy foot. Such goads, The slow and loitering need; that they be found Not wanting, when their hour of watch returns."

So on we journey'd, through the evening sky Gazing intent, far onward as our eyes, With level view, could stretch against the bright Vespertine ray: and lo! by slow degrees Gathering, a fog made towards us, dark as night. There was no room for 'scaping; and that mist Bereft us, both of sight and the pure air.

Purgatory Canto 16

Canto XVI

Argument

As they proceed through the mist, they hear the voices of spirits praying. Marco Lombardo, one of these, points out to Dante the error of such as impute our actions to necessity; explains to him that man is endued with free will; and shows that much of human depravity results from the undue mixture of spiritual and temporal authority in rulers.

Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark, Of every planet 'reft, and pall'd in clouds, Did never spread before the sight a veil In thickness like that fog, nor to the sense So palpable and gross. Entering its shade, Mine eye endured not with unclosed lids; Which marking, near me drew the faithful guide, Offering me his shoulder for a stay.

As the blind man behind his leader walks, Lest he should err, or stumble unawares On what might harm him or perhaps destroy; I journey'd through that bitter air and foul, Still listening to my escort's warning voice, "Look that from me thou part not." Straight I heard Voices, and each one seem'd to pray for peace, And for compassion, to the Lamb of God That taketh sins away. Their prelude still Was "Agnus Dei"; and through all the choir, One voice, one measure ran, that perfect seem'd The concord of their song. "Are these I hear Spirits, O master?" I exclaim'd; and he, "Thou aim'st aright: these loose the bonds of wrath."

"Now who art thou, that through our smoke dost cleave, And speak'st of us, as thou thyself e'en yet Dividedst time by calends?" So one voice Bespake me; whence my master said. "Reply; And ask, if upward hence the passage lead."

"O being! who dost make thee pure, to stand Beautiful once more in thy Maker's sight; Along with me: and thou shalt hear and wonder." Thus, I whereto the spirit answering spake: "Long as 'tis lawful for me, shall my steps Follow on thine; and since the cloudy smoke Forbids the seeing, hearing in its stead Shall keep us join'd." I then forthwith began: "Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend To higher regions; and am hither come Thorough the fearful agony of Hell. And, if so largely God hath doled His grace, That, clean beside all modern precedent, He wills me to behold His kingly state; From me conceal not who thou wast, ere death Had loosed thee; but instruct me: and instruct If rightly to the pass I tend; thy words The way directing, as a safe escort."

"I was of Lombardy, and Marco call'd:[1] Not inexperienced of the world, that worth I still affected, from which all have turn'd The nerveless bow aside. Thy course tends right Unto the summit:" and, replying thus, He added, "I beseech thee pray for me, When thou shalt come aloft." And I to him: "Accept my faith for pledge I will perform What thou requirest. Yet one doubt remains, That wrings me sorely, if I solve it not. Singly before it urged me, doubled now By thine opinion, when I couple that With one elsewhere declared; each strengthening other. The world indeed is even so forlorn Of all good, as thou speak'st it, and so swarms With every evil. Yet, beseech thee, point The cause out to me, that myself may see, And unto others show it: for in Heaven One places it, and one on earth below."

[1: Venetian gentleman. "Lombardo" both was his surname and denoted the country to which he belonged. G. Villani, lib. vii. cap. cxx., terms him "a wise and worthy courtier." Benvenuto da Imola, says Landino, relates of him, that being imprisoned and not able to pay his ransom, he wrote to his friend Riccardo da Camino, lord of Trevigi, who raised a contribution among the nobles of Lombardy; of which when Marco was informed, he wrote back with much indignation to Riccardo, that he had rather die than remain under obligations to so many benefactors. Riccardo then paid the whole out of his own purse.]

Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh, "Brother!" he thus began, "the world is blind; And thou in truth comest from it. Ye, who live,

Do so each cause refer to Heaven above, E'en as its motion, of necessity, Drew with it all that moves, If this were so, Free choice in you were none; nor justice would There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill. Your movements have their primal bent from Heaven; Not all: yet said I all; what then ensues? Light have ye still to follow evil or good, And of the will free power, which, if it stand Firm and unwearied in Heaven's first assay, Conquers at last, so it be cherish'd well, Triumphant over all. To mightier force, To better nature subject, ye abide Free, not constrain'd by that which forms in you The reasoning mind uninfluenced of the stars. If then the present race of mankind err, Seek in yourselves the cause, and find it there; Herein thou shalt confess me no false spy.

"Forth from His plastic hand, who charm'd beholds Her image ere she yet exist, the soul Comes like a babe, that wantons sportively, Weeping and laughing in its wayward moods; As artless, and as ignorant of aught, Save that her Maker being one who dwells With gladness ever, willingly she turns To whate'er yields her joy. Of some slight good The flavour soon she tastes; and, snared by that, With fondness she pursues it; if no guide Recall, no rein direct her wandering course. Hence it behoved, the law should be a curb; A sovereign hence behoved, whose piercing view Might mark at least the fortress[2] and main tower Of the true city. Laws indeed there are: But who is he observes them? None; not he, Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock,

[2: Justice, the most necessary virtue in the chief magistrate, as the commentators for the most part explain it. See also Dante's De Monarchia, book I. Yet Lombardi understands the law here spoken of to be the law of God; "the sovereign," a spiritual ruler, and "the true city," the society of true believers; so that "the fortress," according to him, denotes the principal parts of Christian duty.]

Who[3] chews the cud but doth not cleave the hoof. Therefore the multitude, who see their guide Strike at the very good they covet most, Feed there and look no further. Thus the cause Is not corrupted nature in yourselves, But ill - conducting, that hath turn'd the world To evil. Rome, that turn'd it unto good, Was wont to boast two suns,[4] whose several beams Cast light on either way, the world's and God's. One since hath quench'd the other; and the sword Is grafted on the crook; and, so conjoin'd, Each must perforce decline to worse, unawed By fear of other. If thou doubt me, mark The blade: each herb is judged of by its seed. That land,[5] through which Adice and the Po Their waters roll, was once the residence Of courtesy and valour, ere the day[6] That frown'd on Frederick; now secure may pass Those limits, whosoe'er hath left, for shame, To talk with good men, or come near their haunts. Three aged ones are still found there, in whom The old time chides the new: these deem it long Ere God restore them to a better world: The good Gherardo,[7] of Palazzo he, Conrad;[8] and Guido of Castello,[9] named In Gallic phrase more fitly the plain Lombard. On this at last conclude. The Church of Rome, Mixing two governments that ill assort, Hath miss'd her footing, fallen into the mire, And there herself and burden much defiled."

[3: "Who." He compares the Pope, on account of the union of the temporal with the spiritual power in his person, to an unclean beast in the Levitical law. "The camel, because he cheweth the cud, but divideth not the hoof." Levit. vi. 4.]

[4: The Emperor and Bishop of Rome.]

[5: "The land." Lombardy.]

[6: Before the Emperor Frederick II was defeated at Parma, in 1248.]

[7: Gherardo da Camino, of Trevigi. He is honorably mentioned in our Poet's Convito, p. 173. "Let us suppose that Gherardo da Camino had been the grandson of the meanest hind that ever drank of the Sile or the Cagnano, and that his grandfather was not yet forgotten; who will dare to say that Gherardo da Camino was a mean man, and who will not agree with me in calling him noble?"]

[8: Currado da Palazzo of Brescia.]

[9: Of Reggio. All the Italians were called Lombards by the French.]

"O Marco!" I replied, "thine arguments Convince me: and the cause I now discern, Why of the heritage no portion came To Levi's offspring. But resolve me this: Who that Gherardo is, that as thou say'st Is left a sample of the perish'd race, And for rebuke to this untoward age?"

"Either thy words," said he, "deceive, or else Are meant to try me; that thou, speaking Tuscan, Appear'st not to have heard of good Gherardo; The sole addition that, by which I know him; Unless I borrow'd from his daughter Gaia[10] Another name to grace him. God be with you. I bear you company no more. Behold The dawn with white ray glimmering through the mist. I must away - the angel comes - ere he Appear." He said, and would not hear me more.

[10: "His daughter Gaia." A lady equally admired for her modesty, the beauty of her person, and the excellency of her talents. Gaia may perhaps lay claim to the praise of having been the first among the Italian ladies, by whom the vernacular poetry was cultivated.]

Purgatory Canto 17

Canto XVII

Argument

The Poet issues from that thick vapour; and soon after his fancy represents to him in lively portraiture some noted examples of anger. This imagination is dissipated by the appearance of an angel, who marshals them onward to the fourth cornice, on which the sin of gloominess or indifference is purged; and here Virgil shows him that this vice proceeds from a defect of love, and that all love can be only of two sorts, either natural, or of the soul; of which sorts the former is always right, but the latter may err either in respect of object or of degree.

Call to remembrance, reader, if thou e'er Hast on an Alpine height been ta'en by cloud, Through which thou saw'st no better than the mole Doth through opacous membrane; then, whene'er The watery vapours dense began to melt Into thin air, how faintly the sun's sphere Seem'd wading through them: so thy nimble thought May image, how at first I rebeheld The sun, that bedward now his couch o'erhung.

Thus, with my leader's feet still equaling pace, From forth that could I came, when now expired

The parting beams from off the nether shores.

O quick and forgetive power! that sometimes dost So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark Though round about us thousand trumpets clang; What moves thee, if the senses stir not? Light Moves thee from Heaven, spontaneous, self - inform'd; Or, likelier, gliding down with swift illapse By will divine. Portray'd before me came The traces of her dire impiety, Whose form was changed into the bird, that most Delights itself in song:[1] and here my mind Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place To aught that ask'd admittance from without. Next shower'd into my fantasy a shape As of one crucified, whose visage spake Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died; And round him Ahasuerus the great king; Esther his bride; and Mordecai the just, Blameless in word and deed. As of itself That unsubstantial coinage of the brain Burst, like a bubble, when the water fails That fed it; in my vision straight uprose A damsel[2] weeping loud, and cried, "O queen! O mother! wherefore has intemperate ire Driven thee to loathe thy being? Not to lose Lavinia, desperate thou hast slain thyself. Now hast thou lost me. I am she, whose tears Mourn, ere I fall, a mother's timeless end."

[1: I cannot think, with Vellutello, that the swallow is here meant. Dante probably alludes to the story of Philomela, as it is found in Homer's "Odyssey," b. xix. 518. Philomela intended to slay the son of her husband's brother Amphion, incited to it by the envy of his wife, who had six children, while herself had only two, but through mistake slew her own son Itylus, and for her punishment was transformed by Jupiter into a nightingale.]

[2: Lavinia, mourning for her mother Amata, who, impelled by grief and indignation for the supposed death of Turnus, destroyed herself.]

E'en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly New radiance strikes upon the closed lids, The broken slumber quivering ere it dies; Thus, from before me, sunk that imagery, Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck The light, outshining far our earthly beam.

As round I turn'd me to survey what place I had arrived at, "Here ye mount": exclaim'd A voice, that other purpose left me none Save will so eager to behold who spake, I could not chuse but gaze. As 'fore the sun, That weighs our vision down, and veils his form In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail'd Unequal. "This is Spirit from above, Who marshals us our upward way, unsought; And in his own light shrouds him. As a man Doth for himself, so now is done for us. For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepared For blunt denial, ere the suit be made. Refuse we not to lend a ready foot At such inviting: haste we to ascend, Before it darken: for we may not then, Till morn again return." So spake my guide; And to one ladder both address'd our steps; And the first stair approaching, I perceived Near me as't were the waving of a wing, That fann'd my face, and whisper'd: "Blessed they, The peace - makers: they know not evil wrath."

Now to such height above our heads were raised The last beams, follow'd close by hooded night, That many a star on all sides through the gloom Shone out. "Why partest from me, O my strength?" So with myself I communed; for I felt My o'ertoil'd sinews slacken. We had reach'd The summit, and were fix'd like to a bark Arrived at land. And waiting a short space, If aught should meet mine ear in that new round, Then to my guide I turn'd, and said: "Loved sire! Declare what guilt is on this circle purged. If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause."

He thus to me: "The love of good, whate'er Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils. Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter'd ill. But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand, Give ear unto my words; and thou shalt cull Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay.

"Creator, nor created being, e'er, My son," he thus began, "was without love, Or natural, or the free spirit's growth, Thou hast not that to learn. The natural still Is without error: but the other swerves, If on ill object bent, or through excess Of vigour, or defect. While e'er it seeks The primal blessings,[3] or with measure due The inferior,[4] no delight, that flows from it, Partakes of ill. But let it warp to evil, Or with more ardour than behoves, or less, Pursue the good; the thing created then Works 'gainst its Maker. Hence thou must infer That love is germin of each virtue in ye, And of each act no less, that merits pain. Now[5] since it may not be, but love intend The welfare mainly of the thing it loves, All from self - hatred are secure; and since No being can be thought to exist apart, And independent of the first, a bar Of equal force restrains from hating that.

[3: "The primal blessings." Spiritual good.]

[4: "The inferior." Temporal good.]

[5: "Now." "It is impossible for any being, either to hate itself, or to hate the First Cause of all, by which it exists. We can therefore rejoice only in the evil which befalls others."]

"Grant the distinction just; and it remains The evil must be another's, which is loved. Three ways such love is gender'd in your clay. There is[6] who hopes (his neighbour's worth deprest) Pre - eminence himself; and covets hence, For his own greatness, that another fall. There is[7] who so much fears the loss of power, Fame, favour, glory, (should his fellow mount Above him), and so sickens at the thought, He loves their opposite: and there is he,[8] Whom wrong or insult seems to gall and shame, That he doth thirst for vengeance; and such needs Must dote on other's evil. Here beneath,

[6: "There is." The proud.]

[7: There is." The envious.]

[8: "There is he." The resentful.]

This threefold love is mourn'd. Of the other sort Be now instructed; that which follows good, But with disorder'd and irregular course.

"All indistinctly apprehend a bliss, On which the soul may rest; the hearts of all Yearn after it; and to that wished bourn All therefore strive to tend. If ye behold, Or seek it, with a love remiss and lax; This cornice, after just repenting, lays Its penal torment on ye. Other good There is, where man finds not his happiness: It is not true fruition; not that blest Essence, of every good the branch and root. The love too lavishly bestow'd on this, Along three circles over us, is mourn'd. Account of that division tripartite Expect not, fitter for thine own research."

Purgatory Canto 18

Canto XVIII

Argument

Virgil discourses further concerning the nature of love. Then a multitude of spirits rush by; two of whom, in van of the rest, record instances of zeal and fervent affection, and another, who was Abbot of San Zeno in Verona, declares himself to Virgil and Dante; and lastly follow other spirits, shouting forth memorable examples of the sin for which they suffer. The Poet, pursuing his meditations, falls into a dreamy slumber.

The teacher ended, and his high discourse Concluding, earnest in my looks inquired If I appear'd content; and I, whom still Unsated thirst to hear him urged, was mute, Mute outwardly, yet inwardly I said: "Perchance my too much questioning offends." But he, true father, mark'd the secret wish By diffidence restrain'd; and, speaking, gave Me boldness thus to speak: "Master! my sight Gathers so lively virtue from thy beams, That all, thy words convey, distinct is seen. Wherefore I pray thee, father, whom this heart Holds dearest, thou wouldst deign by proof t' unfold That love, from which, as from their source, thou bring'st All good deeds and their opposite." He then: "To what I now disclose be thy clear ken Directed; and thou plainly shalt behold How much those blind have err'd, who make themselves The guides of men. The soul, created apt To love, moves versatile which way soe'er Aught pleasing prompts her, soon as she is waked By pleasure into act. Of substance true Your apprehension forms its counterfeit; And, in you the ideal shape presenting, Attracts the soul's regard. If she, thus drawn, Incline toward it; love is that inclining, And a new nature knit by pleasure in ye. Then, as the fire points up, and mounting seeks His birth - place and his lasting seat, e'en thus Enters the captive soul into desire, Which is a spiritual motion, that ne'er rests Before enjoyment of the thing it loves. Enough to show thee, how the truth from those Is hidden, who aver all love a thing Praiseworthy in itself; although perhaps Its matter seem still good. Yet if the wax Be good, it follows not the impression must."

"What love is," I return'd, "thy words, O guide! And my own docile mind, reveal. Yet thence New doubts have sprung. For, from without, if love Be offered to us, and the spirit knows No other footing; tend she right or wrong, Is no desert of hers." He answering thus: "What reason here discovers, I have power To show thee: that which lies beyond, expect From Beatrice, faith not reason's task. Spirit, substantial form, with matter join'd, Not in confusion mix'd, hath in itself Specific virtue of that union born, Which is not felt except it work, nor proved But through effect, as vegetable life By the green leaf. From whence his intellect Deduced its primal notices of things, Man therefore knows not, or his appetites Their first affections; such in you, as zeal In bees to gather honey; at the first, Volition, meriting nor blame nor praise. But o'er each lower faculty supreme, That, as she list, are summon'd to her bar, Ye have that virtue[1] in you, whose just voice Uttereth counsel, and whose word should keep The threshold of assent. Here is the source, Whence cause of merit in you is derived; E'en as the affections, good or ill, she takes, Or severs, winnow'd as the chaff. Those men,[2] Who, reasoning, went to depth profoundest, mark'd That innate freedom; and were thence induced To leave their moral teaching to the world. Grant then, that from necessity arise All love that glows within you; to dismiss Or harbour it, the power is in yourselves. Remember, Beatrice, in her style, Denominates free choice by eminence The noble virtue; if in talk with thee She touch upon that theme." The moon, well nigh To midnight hour belated, made the stars Appear to wink and fade; and her broad disk Seem'd like a crag on fire, as up the vault[3] That course she journey'd, which the sun then warms When they of Rome behold him at his set Betwixt Sardinia and the Corsic isle. And now the weight, that hung upon my thought, Was lighten'd by the aid of that clear spirit, Who raiseth Andes[4] above Mantua's name. I therefore, when my questions had obtain'd Solution plain and ample, stood as one Musing in dreamy slumber; but not long Slumber'd; for suddenly a multitude, The steep already turning from behind,

[1: "That virtue." Reason.]

[2: "Those men." The great moral philosophers among the heathen.]

[3: "Up the vault." The moon passed with a motion opposite to that of the heavens, through the constellation of the Scorpion, in which the sun is, when to those who are in Rome he appears to set between the isles of Corsica and Sardinia.]

[4: "Andes." Andes, now Pietola, made more famous than Mantua, near which it is situated, by having been the birthplace of Virgil.]

Rush'd on. With fury and like random rout, As echoing on their shores at midnight heard Ismenus and Asopus,[5] for his Thebes If Bacchus' help were needed; so came these Tumultuous, curving each his rapid step, By eagerness impell'd of holy love.

[5: "Ismenus and Asopus." Rivers near Thebes.]

Soon they o'ertook us; with such swiftness moved The mighty crowd. Two spirits at their head Cried, weeping, "Blessed Mary[6] sought with haste The hilly region. Caesar,[7] to subdue Ilerda, darted in Marseilles his sting, And flew to Spain." - "Oh, tarry not: away!" The others shouted; "let not time be lost Through slackness of affection. Hearty zeal To serve reanimates celestial grace."

[6: And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Judah; and entered into the house of Zacharias and saluted Elisabeth." - Luke i. 39.]

[7: Caesar left Brutus to complete the siege of Marseilles, and hastened on to the attack of Afranius and Petreius, the generals of Pompey, at Ilerda (Lerida) in Spain.]

"O ye! in whom intenser fervency Haply supplies, where lukewarm erst ye fail'd, Slow or neglectful, to absolve your part Of good and virtuous; this man, who yet lives, (Credit my tale, though strange,) desires to ascend, So morning rise to light us. Therefore say Which hand leads nearest to the rifted rock."

So spake my guide; to whom a shade return'd: "Come after us, and thou shalt find the cleft. We may not linger: such resistless will Speeds our unwearied course. Vouchsafe us then Thy pardon, if our duty seem to thee Discourteous rudeness. In Verona I Was Abbot[8] of San Zeno, when the hand Of Barbarossa grasp'd imperial sway, That name ne'er utter'd without tears in Milan. And there is he,[9] hath one foot in his grave,

[8: Alberto, Abbot of San Zeno in Verona, when Frederick I was Emperor, by whom Milan was besieged and reduced to ashes, in 1162.]

[9: "There is he." Alberto della Scala, Lord of Verona, who had made his natural son Abbot of San Zeno.]

Who for that monastery ere long shall weep, Ruing his power misused: for that his son, Of body ill compact, and worse in mind, And born in evil, he hath set in place Of its true pastor." Whether more he spake, Or here was mute, I know not: he had sped E'en now so far beyond us. Yet thus much I heard, and in remembrance treasured it.

He then, who never fail'd me at my need, Cried, "Hither turn. Lo! two with sharp remorse Chiding their sin." In rear of all the troop These shouted: "First they died,[10] to whom the sea Open'd, or ever Jordan saw his heirs: And they,[11] who with Aeneas to the end Endured not suffering, for their portion chose Life without glory." Soon as they had fled Past reach of sight, new thought within me rose By others follow'd fast, and each unlike Its fellow: till led on from thought to thought, And pleasured with the fleeting train, mine eye Was closed, and meditation changed to dream.

[10: "First they died." The Israelites, who on account of their disobedience died before reaching the promised land.]

[11: "And they." Those Trojans, who wearied with their voyage, chose rather to remain in Sicily with Acestes than accompany Aeneas to Italy.]

Purgatory Canto 19

Canto XIX

Argument

The Poet, after describing his dream, relates how, at the summoning of an Angel, he ascends with Virgil to the fifth cornice, where the sin of avarice is cleansed, and where he finds Pope Adrian the fifth.

It was the hour,[1] when of diurnal heat No reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon, O'erpower'd by earth, or planetary sway Of Saturn; and the geomancer[2] sees His Greater Fortune up the east ascend, Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone,

[1: "The hour." Near the dawn.]

[2: "The geomancer." The geomancers, when they divined, drew a figure consisting of sixteen marks, named from so many stars which constitute the end of Aquarius and the beginning of Pisces. One of these they called "the greater fortune."]

When, 'fore me in my dream, a woman's shape[3] There came, with lips that stammer'd, eyes aslant, Distorted feet, hands maim'd, and colour pale.

[3: "A woman's shape." Worldly happiness. This allegory reminds us of the "Choice of Hercules."]

I look'd upon her: and, as sunshine cheers Limbs numb'd by nightly cold, e'en thus my look Unloosed her tongue; next, in brief space, her form Decrepit raised erect, and faded face With love's own hue illumed. Recovering speech, She forthwith, warbling, such a strain began, That I, how loth soe'er, could scarce have held Attention from the song. "I," thus she sang, "I am the Syren, she, whom mariners On the wide sea are wilder'd when they hear; Such fullness of delight the listener feels. I, from his course, Ulysses[4] by my lay Enchanted drew. Whoe'er frequents me once, Parts seldom: so I charm him, and his heart Contented knows no void." Or ere her mouth Was closed, to shame her, at my side appear'd A dame[5] of semblance holy. With stern voice She utter'd: "Say, O Virgil! who is this?" Which hearing, he approach'd, with eyes still bent Toward that goodly presence: the other seized her, And, her robes tearing, open'd her before, And show'd the belly to me, whence a smell, Exhaling loathsome, waked me. Round I turn'd Mine eyes: and thus the teacher: "At the least Three times my voice hath call'd thee. Rise, begone. Let us the opening find where thou mayst pass."

[4: "Ulysses." It is not easy to determine why Ulysses, contrary to the authority of Homer, is said to have been drawn aside from his course by the song of the Siren. No improbable way of accounting for the contradiction is, to suppose that she is here represented as purposely deviating from the truth. Or Dante may have followed some legend of the Middle Ages.]

[5: "A dame." Philosophy, or perhaps Truth.]

I straightway rose. Now day, pour'd down from high, Fill'd all the circuits of the sacred mount; And, as we journey'd, on our shoulder smote The early ray. I follow'd, stooping low My forehead, as a man, o'ercharged with thought,

Who bends him to the likeness of an arch That midway spans the flood; when thus I heard, "Come, enter here," in tone so soft and mild, As never met the ear on mortal strand.

With swan - like wings dispred and pointing up, Who thus had spoken marshal'd us along, Where, each side of the solid masonry, The sloping walls retired; then moved his plumes, And fanning us, affirm'd that those, who mourn,[6] Are blessed, for that comfort shall be theirs.

[6: "Who mourn." "Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted." - Matt. v. 4]

"What aileth thee, that still thou look'st to earth?" Began my leader; while the angelic shape A little over us his station took.

"New vision," I replied, "hath raised in me Surmisings strange and anxious doubts, whereon My soul int nt allows no other thought Or room, or entrance." - "Hast thou seen," said he "That old enchantress, her, whose wiles alone The spirits o'er us weep for? Hast thou seen How man may free him of her bonds? Enough. Let thy heels spurn the earth; and thy raised ken Fix on the lure, which Heaven's eternal King Whirls in the rolling spheres." As on his feet The falcon first looks down, then to the sky Turns, and forth stretches eager for the food, That woos him thither; so the call I heard: So onward, far as the dividing rock Gave way, I journey'd, till the plain was reach'd.

On the fifth circle when I stood at large, A race appear'd before me, on the ground All downward lying prone and weeping sore. "My soul hath cleaved to the dust," I heard With sighs so deep, they well nigh choked the words.

"O ye elect of God! whose penal woes Both hope and justice mitigate, direct Towards the steep rising our uncertain way."

"If ye approach secure from this our doom, Prostration, and would urge your course with speed,

See that ye still to rightward keep the brink."

So them the bard besought; and such the words, Beyond us some short space, in answer came.

I noted what remain'd yet hidden from them:[7] Thence to my liege's eyes mine eyes I bent, And he, forthwith interpreting their suit, Beckon'd his glad assent. Free then to act As pleased me, I drew near, and took my stand Over that shade whose words I late had mark'd. And, "Spirit!" I said, "in whom repentant tears Mature that blessed hour when thou with God Shalt find acceptance, for a while suspend For me that mightier care. Say who thou wast; Why thus ye grovel on your bellies prone; And if, in aught, ye wish my service there, Whence living I am come." He answering spake: "The cause why Heaven our back towards his cope Reverses, shalt thou know: but me know first, The successor of Peter,[8] and the name And title of my lineage, from that stream[9] That 'twixt Chiaveri and Siestri draws His limpid waters through the lowly glen. A month and little more by proof I learnt, With what a weight that robe of sovereignty Upon his shoulder rests, who from the mire Would guard it; that each other fardel seems But feathers in the balance. Late, alas! Was my conversion: but, when I became Rome's pastor, I discerned at once the dream And cozenage of life; saw that the heart Rested not there, and yet no prouder height Lured on the climber: whereof, of that life No more enamor'd, in my bosom love Of purer being kindled. For till then

[7: "I noted what remain'd yet hidden from them." They were ignorant, it appeared, whether Dante was come there to be purged of his sins.]

[8: "The successor of Peter." Ottobuono, of the family of Fieschi, Counts of Lavagno, died thirty - nine days after he became Pope, with the title of Adrian V, in 1276.]

[9: "That stream." The river Lavagno, in the Genoese territory; to the east of which territory are situated Siestri and Chiaveri.]

I was a soul in misery, alienate From God, and covetous of all earthly things; Now, as thou seest, here punish'd for my doting. Such cleansing from the taint of avarice, Do spirits, converted, need. This mount inflicts No direr penalty. E'en as our eyes Fasten'd below, nor e'er to loftier clime Were lifted; thus hath justice level'd us, Here on the earth. As avarice quench'd our love Of good, without which is no working; thus Here justice holds us prison'd, hand and foot Chain'd down and bound, while Heaven's just Lord shall please, So long to tarry, motionless, outstretch'd."

My knees I stoop'd, and would have spoke; but he, Ere my beginning, by his ear perceived I did him reverence; and "What cause," said he, "Hath bow'd thee thus?" - "Compunction," I rejoin'd, "And inward awe of your high dignity."

"Up," he exclaim'd, "brother! upon thy feet Arise; err not: thy fellow - servant I, (Thine and all others') of one Sovran Power. If thou hast ever mark'd those holy sounds Of gospel truth, 'nor shall be given in marriage,' Thou mayst discern the reasons of my speech. Go thy ways now; and linger here no more. Thy tarrying is a let unto the tears, With which I hasten that whereof thou spakest. I have on earth a kinswoman;[10] her name Alagia, worthy in herself, so ill Example of our house corrupt her not: And she is all remaineth of me there."

[10: "A kinswoman." Alagia is said to have been the wife of the Marchese Marcello Malaspina, one of the Poet's protectors during his exile. See Canto viii. 133.]

Purgatory Canto 20

Canto XX

Argument

Among those of the fifth cornice, Hugh Capet records illustrious examples of voluntary poverty and of bounty; then tells who himself is, and speaks of his descendants on the French throne; and, lastly, adds some noted instances of avarice. When he has ended, the mountain shakes, and all the spirits sing "Glory to God."

Ill strives the will, 'gainst will more wise that strives: His pleasure therefore to mine own preferr'd, I drew the sponge yet thirsty from the wave. Onward I moved: he also onward moved, Who led me, coasting still, wherever place Along the rock was vacant; as a man Walks near the battlements on narrow wall. For those on the other part, who drop by drop Wring out their all - infecting malady, Too closely press the verge. Accurst be thou, Inveterate wolf![1] whose gorge ingluts more prey, Than every beast beside, yet is not fill'd; So bottomless thy maw. Ye spheres of Heaven! To whom there are, as seems, who attribute All change in mortal state, when is the day Of his appearing,[2] for whom fate reserves To chase her hence? With wary steps and slow We pass'd; and I attentive to the shades, Whom piteously I heard lament and wail; And, 'midst the wailing, one before us heard Cry out "O blessed Virgin!" as a dame In the sharp pangs of childbed; and "How poor Thou wast," it added, "witness that low roof Where thou didst lay thy sacred burden down. O good Fabricius! thou didst virtue choose With poverty, before great wealth with vice."

[1: "Wolf." Avarice.]

[2: He is thought to allude to Can Grande della Scala. See Hell, Canto i. 98.]

The words so pleased me, that desire to know The spirit, from whose lip they seem'd to come, Did draw me onward. Yet it spake the gift Of Nicholas,[3] which on the maidens he

[3: An angel having revealed to him that the father of a family was so impoverished as to resolve on exposing the chastity of his three daughters to sale, Nicholas threw in at the window of their house three bags of money, containing a sufficient portion for each of them.]

Bounteous bestow'd, to save their youthful prime Unblemish'd. "Spirit! who dost speak of deeds So worthy, tell me who thou wast," I said, "And why thou dost with single voice renew Memorial of such praise. That boon vouchsafed Haply shall meet reward; if I return To finish the short pilgrimage of life, Still speeding to its close on restless wing."

"I," answer'd he, "will tell thee; not for help, Which thence I look for; but that in thyself Grace so exceeding shines, before thy time Of mortal dissolution. I was root[4] Of that ill plant, whose shade such poison sheds O'er all the Christian land, that seldom thence Good fruit is gather'd. Vengeance soon should come, Had Ghent and Douay, Lille and Bruges power;[5] And vengeance I of Heaven's great Judge implore. Hugh Capet was I hight: from me descend The Philips and the Louis, of whom France Newly is govern'd: born of one, who plied The slaughterer's trade[6] at Paris. When the race Of ancient kings had vanish'd (all save one[7] Wrapt up in sable weeds) within my gripe I found the reins of empire, and such powers Of new acquirement, with full store of friends, That soon the widow'd circlet of the crown Was girt upon the temples of my son,[8] He, from whose bones the anointed race begins.

[4: "Root." Hugh Capet, ancestor of Philip IV.]

[5: These cities had lately been seized by Philip IV. The spirit intimates the approaching defeat of the French army by the Flemings, in the battle of Courtrai, which happened in 1302.]

[6: "The slaughterer's trade." This reflection on the birth of his ancestor induced Francis I to forbid the reading of Dante in his dominions. Hugh Capet, who came to the throne of France in 987, was, however, the grandson of Robert, who was the brother of Eudes, King of France in 888; and it may, therefore, well be questioned whether by Beccaio di Parigi is meant literally one who carried on the trade of a butcher, at Paris, and whether the sanguinary disposition of Hugh Capet's father is not stigmatized by this opprobrious appellation.]

[7: The posterity of Charlemain, the second race of French monarchs, had failed, with the exception of Charles of Lorraine, who is said, on account of the melancholy temper of his mind, to have always clothed himself in black. Venturi suggests that Dante may have confounded him with Childeric III, the last of the Merovingian, or first, race, who was deposed and made a monk in 751.]

[8: Hugh Capet caused his son Robert to be crowned at Orleans.]

Till the great dower of Provence[9] had removed The stains, that yet obscured our lowly blood, Its sway indeed was narrow; but howe'er It wrought no evil: there, with force and lies, Began its rapine: after, for amends, Poitou it seized, Navarre and Gascony. To Italy came Charles; and for amends, Young Conradine,[10] an innocent victim, slew; And sent the angelic teacher[11] back to Heaven, Still for amends. I see the time at hand, That forth from France invites another Charles[12] To make himself and kindred better known. Unarm'd he issues, saving with that lance, Which the arch - traitor tilted with,[13] and that He carries with so home a thrust, as rives The bowels of poor Florence. No increase Of territory hence, but sin and shame Shall be his guerdon; and so much the more As he more lightly deems of such foul wrong. I see the other[14] (who a prisoner late

[9: "The great dower of Provence." Louis IX and his brother Charles of Anjou married two of the four daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence. See Paradise, c. vi. 135.]

[10: "Young Conradine." Charles of Anjou put Conradino to death in 1268, and became King of Naples.]

[11: "The angelic teacher." Thomas Aquinas. He was reported to have been poisoned by a physician, who wished to ingratiate himself with Charles of Anjou. "In the year 1323, at the end of July, by the said Pope John and by his cardinals, was canonized at Avignon, Thomas Aquinas, of the order of Saint Dominic, a master in divinity and philosophy. A man most excellent in all science, and who expounded the sense of Scripture better than anyone since the time of Augustin. He lived in the time of Charles I, King of Sicily; and going to the council at Lyons, it is said that he was killed by a physician of the said king, who put poison for him into some sweetmeats, thinking to ingratiate himself with King Charles, because he was of the lineage of the Lords of Aquino, who had rebelled against the king, and doubting lest he should be made cardinal; whence the Church of God received great damage. He died at the abbey of Fossanova, in Campagna." G. Villani, lib. ix.]

[12: "Another Charles." Charles of Valois, brother of Philip IV, was sent by Pope Boniface VIII to settle the disturbed state of Florence. In consequence of the measures he adopted for that purpose, our Poet and his friends were condemned to exile and death.]

[13: "_ with that lance." If I remember right, in one of the old romances, Judas is represented tilting with our Saviour.]

[14: "The other." Charles, King of Naples, the eldest son of Charles of Anjou, having, contrary to the directions of his father, engaged with Ruggieri de Lauria, the admiral of Peter of Arragon, was made prisoner, and carried into Sicily, June, 1284. He afterward, in consideration of a large sum of money, married his daughter to Azzo VIII, Marquis of Ferrara.]

Had stept on shore) exposing to the mart His daughter, whom he bargains for, as do The Corsairs for their slaves. O avarice! What canst thou more, who hast subdued our blood So wholly to thyself, they feel no care Of their own flesh? To hide with direr guilt Past ill and future, lo! the flower - de - luce[15] Enters Alagna; in his Vicar Christ Himself a captive, and his mockery Acted again. Lo! to his holy lip The vinegar and gall once more applied; And he 'twixt living robbers doom'd to bleed. Lo! the new Pilate, of whose cruelty Such violence cannot fill the measure up, With no decree to sanction, pushes on Into the temple[16] his yet eager sails.

[15: "The flower-de-luce." Boniface VIII was seized at Alagna in Campagna, by the order of Philip IV, in the year 1303, and soon after died of grief. G. Villani, lib. viii. cap. lxiii. "As it pleased God, the heart of Boniface being petrified with grief, through the injury he had sustained, when he came to Rome, he fell into a strange malady, for he gnawed himself as one frantic, and in this state expired." His character is strongly drawn by the annalist in the next chapter. Thus, says Landino, was verified the prophecy of Celestine respecting him, that he should enter on the popedom like a fox, reign like a lion, and die like a dog.]

[16: It is uncertain whether our Poet alludes still to the event mentioned in the preceding note, or to the destruction of the order of the Templars in 1310, but the latter appears more probable.]

"O sovran Master! when shall I rejoice To see the vengeance, which Thy wrath, well - pleased, In secret silence broods? - While daylight lasts, So long what thou didst hear of her, sole spouse Of the Great Spirit, and on which thou turn'dst To me for comment, is the general theme Of all our prayers; but, when it darkens, then A different strain we utter; then record Pygmalion, whom his gluttonous thirst of gold Made traitor, robber, parricide: the woes Of Midas, which his greedy wish ensued, Mark'd for derision to all future times: And the fond Achan,[17] how he stole the prey, That yet he seems by Joshua's ire pursued. Sapphira with her husband next we blame; And praise the forefeet, that with furious ramp

[17: "Achan." Joshua vii.]

Spurn'd Heliodorus.[18] All the mountain round Rings with the infamy of Thracia's king,[19] Who slew his Phrygian charge: and last a shout Ascends: 'Declare, O Crassus![20] for thou know'st, The flavour of thy gold.' The voice of each Now high, now low, as each his impulse prompts, Is led through many a pitch, acute or grave. Therefore, not singly, I erewhile rehearsed That blessedness we tell of in the day: But near me, none, beside, his accent raised."

[18: "Heliodorus." "For there appeared unto them an horse, with a terrible rider upon him, and adorned with a very fair covering, and he ran fiercely and smote at Heliodorus with his fore feet." 2 Maccabees iii. 25.]

[19: "Thracia's king." Polymnestor, the murderer of Polydorus. Hell, Canto xxx. 19.]

[20: "Crassus." Marcus Crassus, who fell miserably in the Parthian war.]

From him we now had parted, and essay'd With utmost efforts to surmount the way; When I did feel, as nodding to its fall, The mountain tremble; whence an icy chill Seized on me, as on one to death convey'd. So shook not Delos, when Latona there Couch'd to bring forth the twin - born eyes of Heaven.

Forthwith from every side a shout arose So vehement, that suddenly my guide Drew near, and cried: "Doubt not, while I conduct thee." "Glory!" all shouted (such the sounds mine ear Gather'd from those, who near me swell'd the sounds), "Glory in the highest be to God." We stood Immovably suspended, like to those, The shepherds, who first heard in Bethlehem's field That song: till ceased the trembling, and the song Was ended: then our hallow'd path resumed, Eying the prostrate shadows, who renew'd Their custom'd mourning. Never in my breast Did ignorance so struggle with desire Of knowledge, if my memory do not err, As in that moment; nor through haste dared I To question, nor myself could aught discern. So on I fared, in thoughtfulness and dread.

Purgatory Canto 21

Canto XXI

Argument

The two Poets are overtaken by the spirit of Statius, who, being cleansed, is on his way to Paradise, and who explains the cause of the mountain shaking, and of the hymn; his joy at beholding Virgil.

The natural thirst, ne'er quench'd but from the well[1] Whereof the woman of Samaria craved, Excited; haste, along the cumber'd path, After my guide, impell'd; and pity moved My bosom for the 'vengeful doom though just. When lo! even as Luke[2] relates, that Christ Appear'd unto the two upon their way, New - risen from His vaulted grave; to us A shade appear'd, and after us approach'd, Contemplating the crowd beneath its feet. We were not ware of it; so first it spake, Saying, "God give you peace, my brethren!" then Sudden we turn'd: and Virgil such salute, As fitted that kind greeting, gave; and cried: "Peace in the blessed council be thy lot, Awarded by that righteous court which me To everlasting banishment exiles."

[1: "The well." "The woman saith unto him, Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not." - John, iv. 15.]

[2: "Luke." Chapter xxiv. 13.]

"How!" he exclaim'd, nor from his speed meanwhile Desisting; "If that ye be spirits whom God Vouchsafes not room above; who up the height Has been thus far your guide?" To whom the bard: "If thou observe the tokens,[3] which this man, Traced by the finger of the Angel, bears; 'Tis plain that in the kingdom of the just He needs must share. But sithence she,[4] whose wheel Spins day and night, for him not yet had drawn That yarn, which on the fatal distaff piled, Clotho apportions to each wight that breathes; His soul, that sister is to mine and thine, Not of herself could mount; for not like ours

[3: "The tokens." The letter P for Peccata, sins, inscribed upon his forehead by the Angel, in order to his being cleared of them in his passage through Purgatory to Paradise.]

[4: "She." Lachesis, one of the three fates.]

Her ken: whence I, from forth the ample gulf Of Hell, was ta'en, to lead him, and will lead Far as my lore avails. But, if thou know, Instruct us for what cause, the mount erewhile Thus shook, and trembled: wherefore all at once Seem'd shouting, even from his wave - wash'd foot."

That questioning so tallied with my wish, The thirst did feel abatement of its edge E'en from expectance. He forthwith replied: "In its devotion, nought irregular This mount can witness, or by punctual rule Unsanction'd; here from every change exempt, Other than that, which Heaven in itself Doth of itself receive, no influence Can reach us. Tempest none, shower, hail, or snow, Hoar frost, or dewy moistness, higher falls Than that brief scale of threefold steps: thick clouds, Nor scudding rack, are ever seen: swift glance Ne'er lightens; nor Thaumantian Iris gleams, That yonder often shifts on each side Heaven. Vapour adust doth never mount above The highest of the trinal stairs, whereon Peter's vicegerent stands. Lower perchance, With various motion rock'd, trembles the soil: But here, through wind in earth's deep hollow pent, I know not how, yet never trembled: then Trembles, when any spirit feels itself So purified, that it may rise, or move For rising; and such loud acclaim ensues. Purification, by the will alone, Is proved, that free to change society Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will. Desire of bliss is present from the first; But strong propension hinders, to that wish By the just ordinance of Heaven opposed; Propension now as eager to fulfill The allotted torment, as erewhile to sin. And I, who in this punishment had lain Five hundred years and more, but now have felt Free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt'st The mountain tremble; and the spirits devout Heard'st, over all his limits, utter praise To that liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy To hasten." Thus he spake: and, since the draught Is grateful ever as the thirst is keen, No words may speak my fullness of content.

"Now," said the instructor sage, "I see the net That takes ye here; and how the toils are loosed; Why rocks the mountain, and why ye rejoice. Vouchsafe, that from thy lips I next may learn Who on the earth thou wast; and wherefore here, So many an age, wert prostrate." - "In that time, When the good Titus,[5] with Heaven's King to help, Avenged those piteous gashes, whence the blood By Judas sold did issue; with the name[6] Most lasting and most honor'd, there, was I Abundantly renown'd," the shade replied, "Nor yet with faith endued. So passing sweet My vocal spirit; from Tolosa, Rome To herself drew me, where I merited A myrtle garland to inwreathe my brow. Statius they name me still. Of Thebes I sang, And next of great Achilles; but i' the way Fell with the second burden. Of my flame Those sparkles were the seeds, which I derived From the bright fountain of celestial fire That feeds unnumber'd lamps; the song I mean Which sounds Aeneas' wanderings: that the breast I hung at; that the nurse, from whom my veins Drank inspiration: whose authority Was ever sacred with me. To have lived Coeval with the Mantuan, I would bide The revolution of another sun Beyond my stated years in banishment."

[5: "When the good Titus." When it was so ordered by the divine Providence that Titus, by the destruction of Jerusalem, should avenge the death of our Saviour on the Jews.]

[6: "The name." The name of Poet.]

The Mantuan, when he heard him, turn'd to me; And holding silence, by his countenance Enjoin'd me silence: but the power, which wills,

Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears Follow so closely on the passion prompts them, They wait not for the motions of the will In natures most sincere. I did but smile, As one who winks; and thereupon the shade Broke off, and peer'd into mine eyes, where best Our looks interpret. "So to good event Mayst thou conduct such great emprise," he cried, "Say, why across thy visage beam'd, but now, The lightning of a smile." On either part Now am I straiten'd; one conjures me speak, The other to silence binds me: whence a sigh I utter, and the sigh is heard. "Speak on," The teacher cried: "and do not fear to speak; But tell him what so earnestly he asks." Whereon I thus: "Perchance, O ancient spirit! Thou marvel'st at my smiling. There is room For yet more wonder. He, who guides my ken On high, he is that Mantuan, led by whom Thou didst presume of men and gods to sing. If other cause thou deem'dst for which I smiled, Leave it as not the true one: and believe Those words, thou spakest of him, indeed the cause."

Now down he bent to embrace my teacher's feet; But he forbade him: "Brother! do it not: Thou art a shadow, and behold'st a shade." He, rising, answer'd thus: "Now hast thou proved The force and ardour of the love I bear thee, When I forget we are but things of air, And, as a substance, treat an empty shade."

Purgatory Canto 22

Canto XXII

Argument

Dante, Virgil, and Statius mount to the sixth cornice, where the sin of gluttony is cleansed, the two Latin Poets discoursing by the way. Turning to the right, they find a tree hung with sweet - smelling fruit, and watered by a shower that issues from the rock. Voices are heard to proceed from among the leaves, recording examples of temperance.

Now we had left the Angel, who had turn'd To the sixth circle our ascending step; One gash from off my forehead razed; while they, Whose wishes tend to justice, shouted forth, "Blessed!"[1] and ended with "I thirst"; and I, More nimble than along the other straits, So journey'd, that, without the sense of toil, I follow'd upwards the swift - footed shades; When Virgil thus began: "Let its pure flame From virtue flow, and love can never fail To warm another's bosom, so the light Shine manifestly forth. Hence, from that hour, When, 'mongst us in the purlieus of the deep, Came down the spirit of Aquinum's bard, Who told of thine affection, my good will Hath been for thee of quality as strong As ever link'd itself to one not seen. Therefore these stairs will now seem short to me. But tell me: and, if too secure, I loose The rein with a friend's license, as a friend Forgive me, and speak now as with a friend: How chanced it covetous desire could find Place in that bosom, 'midst such ample store Of wisdom, as thy zeal had treasured there?"

[1: "Blessed." "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled." - Matt. v. 6.]

First somewhat moved to laughter by his words, Statius replied: "Each syllable of thine Is a dear pledge of love. Things oft appear, That minister false matter to our doubts, When their true causes are removed from sight. Thy question doth assure me, thou believest I was on earth a covetous man; perhaps

Because thou found'st me in that circle placed. Know then I was too wide of avarice: And e'en for that excess, thousands of moons Have wax'd and waned upon my sufferings. And were it not that I with heedful care Noted, where thou exclaim'st, as if in ire, With human nature, 'Why, thou cursed thirst Of gold! dost not with juster measure guide The appetite of mortals?' I had met The fierce encounter of the voluble rock. Then was I ware that, with too ample wing, The hands may haste to lavishment; and turn'd, As from my other evil, so from this, In penitence. How many from their grave Shall with shorn locks[2] arise, who living, ay, And at life's last extreme, of this offence, Through ignorance, did not repent! And know, The fault, which lies direct from any sin In level opposition, here, with that, Wastes its green rankness on one common heap. Therefore, if I have been with those, who wail Their avarice, to cleanse me; through reverse Of their transgression, such hath been my lot."

[2: "With shorn locks." See Hell, Canto vii, 58.]

To whom the sovran of the pastoral song: "While thou didst sing that cruel warfare waged By the twin sorrow of Jocasta's womb[3] From thy discourse with Clio there, it seems As faith had not been thine; without the which, Good deeds suffice not. And if so, what sun Rose on thee, or what candle pierced the dark, That thou didst after see to hoise the sail, And follow where the fisherman had led?"

[3: "The twin sorrow of Jocasta's womb." Eteocles and Polynices.]

He answering thus: "By thee conducted first, I enter'd the Parnassian grots, and quaff'd Of the clear spring: illumined first by thee, Open'd mine eyes to God. Thou didst, as one Who, journeying through the darkness, bears a light Behind, that profits not himself, but makes

His followers wise, when thou exclaimed'st, 'Lo! A renovated world, Justice return'd, Times of primeval innocence restored, And a new race descended from above.' Poet and Christian both to thee I owed. That thou mayst mark more clearly what I trace, My hand shall stretch forth to inform the lines With livelier colouring. Soon o'er all the world, By messengers from Heaven, the true belief Teem'd now prolific; and that word of thine, Accordant, to the new instructors chimed. Induced by which agreement, I was wont Resort to them; and soon their sanctity So won upon me, that, Domitian's rage Pursuing them, I mix'd my tears with theirs; And, while on earth I stay'd, still succor'd them; And their most righteous customs made me scorn All sects besides. Before I led the Greeks, In tuneful fiction, to the streams of Thebes, I was baptized; but secretly, through fear, Remain'd a Christian, and conform'd long time To Pagan rites. Four centuries and more, I, for that lukewarmness, was fain to pace Round the fourth circle. Thou then, who hast raised The covering which did hide such blessing from me, Whilst much of this ascent is yet to climb, Say, if thou know, where our old Terence bides, Caecilius, Plautus, Varro: if condemn'd They dwell, and in what province of the deep." "These," said my guide, "with Persius and myself, And others many more, are with that Greek,[4] Of mortals, the most cherish'd by the Nine, In the first ward[5] of darkness. There, oft - times, We of that mount hold converse, on whose top For aye our nurses live. We have the bard Of Pella,[6] and the Teian,[7] Agatho, Simonides, and many a Grecian else Ingarlanded with laurel. Of thy train,

[4: "That Greek." Homer.]

[5: "In the first ward." In Limbo.]

[6: Euripides.]

[7: "The Teian." Anacreon.]

Antigone is there, Deiphile, Argia, and as sorrowful as erst Ismene, and who show'd Langia's wave:[8] Deidamia with her sisters there, And blind Tiresias' daughter,[9] and the bride Sea - born of Peleus."[10] Either poet now Was silent; and no longer by the ascent Or the steep walls obstructed, round them cast Inquiring eyes. Four handmaids of the day Had finish'd now their office, and the fifth Was at the chariot - beam, directing still Its flamy point aloof; when thus my guide: "Methinks, it well behoves us to the brink Bend the right shoulder, circuiting the mount, As we have ever used." So custom there Was usher to the road; the which we chose Less doubtful, as that worthy shade[11] complied.

[8: Hypsipile.]

[9: "Tiresias' daughter." Dante, as some have thought, had forgotten that he had placed Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, among the sorcerers. See Hell, Canto xx. Vellutello endeavors to reconcile the apparent inconsistency, by observing, that although she was placed there as a sinner, yet, as one of famous memory, she had also a place among the worthies in Limbo.]

[10: Thetis.]

[11: "That worthy shade." Statius.]

They on before me went: I sole pursued, Listening their speech, that to my thoughts convey'd Mysterious lessons of sweet poesy. But soon they ceased; for midway of the road A tree we found, with goodly fruitage hung, And pleasant to the smell: and as a fir, Upward from bough to bough, less ample spreads; So downward this less ample spread; that none, Methinks, aloft may climb. Upon the side, That closed our path, a liquid crystal fell From the steep rock, and through the sprays above Stream'd showering. With associate step the bards Drew near the plant; and, from amidst the leaves, A voice was heard: "Ye shall be chary of me;" And after added: "Mary took more thought For joy and honour of the nuptial feast, Than for herself, who answers now for you.

The women of old Rome were satisfied With water for their beverage. Daniel[12] fed On pulse, and wisdom gain'd. The primal age Was beautiful as gold: and hunger then Made acorns tasteful; thirst, each rivulet Run nectar. Honey and locusts were the food, Whereon the Baptist in the wilderness Fed, and that eminence of glory reach'd And greatness, which the Evangelist records."

[12: "Daniel." "Then said Daniel to Melzar, whom the prince of the eunuchs had set over Daniel, Hananiah, Michael, and Azariah, 'Prove thy servants, I beseech thee, ten days; and let them give us pulse to eat, and water to drink.'" - Dan. i. II, 12. "Thus Melzar took away the portion of their meat, and the wine that they should drink: and gave them pulse. As for these four children, God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom: and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams." - Ibid. 16, 17.]

Purgatory Canto 23

Canto XXIII

Argument

They are overtaken by the spirit of Forese, who had been a friend of our Poet's on earth, and who now inveighs bitterly against the immodest dress of their countrywomen at Florence.

On the green leaf mine eyes were fix'd, like his Who throws away his days in idle chase Of the diminutive birds, when thus I heard The more than father warn me: "Son! our time Asks thriftier using. Linger not: away!" Thereat my face and steps at once I turn'd Toward the sages, by whose converse cheer'd I journey'd on, and felt no toil: and lo! A sound of weeping, and a song: "My lips,[1] O Lord!" and these so mingled, it gave birth To pleasure and to pain. "O Sire beloved! Say what is this I hear." Thus I inquired.

[1: "O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall show forth thy praise." - Psalm li. 15.]

"Spirits," said he, "who, as they go, perchance, Their debt of duty pay." As on their road The thoughtful pilgrims, overtaking some Not known unto them, turn to them, and look, But stay not; thus, approaching from behind With speedier motion, eyed us, as they pass'd, A crowd of spirits, silent and devout.

The eyes of each were dark and hollow; pale Their visage, and so lean withal, the bones Stood staring through the skin. I do not think Thus dry and meagre Erisichthon show'd, When pinch'd by sharp - set famine to the quick.

"Lo!" to myself I mused, "the race, who lost Jerusalem, when Mary with dire beak Prey'd on her child." The sockets seem'd as rings, From which the gems were dropt. Who reads the name[2] Of man upon his forehead, there the M Had traced most plainly. Who would deem, that scent Of water and an apple could have proved Powerful to generate such pining want, Not knowing how it wrought? While now I stood, Wondering what thus could waste them, (for the cause Of their gaunt hollowness and scaly rind Appear'd not,) lo! a spirit turn'd his eyes In their deep - sunken cells, and fasten'd them On me, then cried with vehemence aloud: "What grace is this vouchsafed me?" By his looks I ne'er had recognized him: but the voice Brought to my knowledge what his cheer conceal'd. Remembrance of his alter'd lineaments Was kindled from that spark; and I agnized The visage of Forese.[3]. "Ah! respect This wan and leprous - wither'd skin," thus he Suppliant implored, "this macerated flesh. Speak to me truly of thyself. And who Are those twain spirits, that escort thee there? Be it not said thou scorn'st to talk with me."

[2: The temples, nose, and forehead are supposed to represent this letter [of the Latin word (H)OMO - man], and the eyes the two O's.]

[3: A brother of Piccarda. See also Canto xxiv. and Paradise, Canto iii. Cionacci is referred to by Lombardi, in order to show that Forese was also the brother of Corso Donati, our author's political enemy.]

"That face of thine," I answer'd him, "which dead I once bewail'd, disposes me not less For weeping, when I see it thus transform'd. Say then, by Heaven, what blasts ye thus? The whilst I wonder, ask not speech from me: unapt Is he to speak, whom other will employs."

He thus: "The water and the plant, we pass'd With power are gifted, by the eternal will Infused; the which so pines me. Every spirit, Whose song bewails his gluttony indulged Too grossly, here in hunger and in thirst Is purified. The odour, which the fruit, And spray that showers upon the verdure, breathe, Inflames us with desire to feed and drink. Nor once alone, encompassing our route, We come to add fresh fuel to the pain: Pain, said I? solace rather: for that will, To the tree, leads us, by which Christ was led To call on Eli, joyful, when he paid Our ransom from his vein." I answering thus: "Forese! from that day, in which the world For better life thou changedst, not five years Have circled. If the power of sinning more Were first concluded in thee, ere thou knew'st That kindly grief which re - espouses us To God, how hither art thou, come so soon? I thought to find thee lower,[4] there, where time Is recompense for time." He straight replied: "To drink up the sweet wormwood of affliction I have been brought thus early, by the tears Stream'd down my Nella's cheeks. Her prayers devout, Her sighs have drawn me from the coast,[5] where oft Expectance lingers; and have set me free From the other circles. In the sight of God So much the dearer is my widow prized, She whom I loved so fondly, as she ranks More singly eminent for virtuous deeds. The tract, most barbarous of Sardinia's isle,[6] Hath dames more chaste, and modester by far, Than that wherein I left her. O sweet brother! What wouldst thou have me say? A time to come Stands full within my view, to which this hour Shall not be counted of an ancient date,

[4: In the Ante - Purgatory. See Canto ii.]

[5: The wife of Forese.]

[6: The Barbagia is a part of Sardinia, to which that name was given, on account of the uncivilized state of its inhabitants, who are said to have gone nearly naked.]

When from the pulpit shall be loudly warn'd The unblushing dames of Florence, lest they bare Unkerchief'd bosoms to the common gaze. What savage women hath the world e'er seen, What Saracens,[7] for whom there needed scourge Of spiritual or other discipline, To force them walk with covering on their limbs? But did they see, the shameless ones, what Heaven Wafts on swift wing toward them while I speak, Their mouths were oped for howling: they shall taste Of sorrow (unless foresight cheat me here), Or e'er the cheek of him be clothed with down, Who is now rock'd with lullaby asleep. Ah! now, my brother, hide thyself no more: Thou seest how not I alone, but all, Gaze, where thou veil'st the intercepted sun." Whence I replied: "If thou recall to mind What we were once together, even yet Remembrance of those days may grieve thee sore. That I forsook that life, was due to him Who there precedes me, some few evenings past, When she was round, who shines with sister lamp To his that glisters yonder," and I show'd The sun. "'Tis. he, who through profoundest night Of the true dead has brought me, with this flesh As true, that follows. From that gloom the aid Of his sure comfort drew me on to climb, And, climbing, wind along this mountain - steep, Which rectifies in you whate'er the world Made crooked and depraved. I have his word, That he will bear me company as far As till I come where Beatrice dwells: But there must leave me. Virgil is that spirit, Who thus hath promised," and I pointed to him; "The other is that shade, for whom so late Your realm, as he arose, exulting, shook Through every pendent cliff and rocky bound."

[7: "Saracens." This word, during the Middle Ages, was applied to all nations (except the Jews) who did not profess Christianity.]

Purgatory Canto 24

Canto XXIV

Argument

Forese points out several others by name who are here, like himself, purifying themselves from the vice of gluttony; and amongst the rest, Buonaggiunta of Lucca, with whom our Poet converses. Forese then predicts the violent end of Dante's political enemy, Corso, Donati; and when he has quitted them, the Poet, in company with Statius and Virgil, arrives at another tree, from whence issue voices that record ancient examples of gluttony; and proceeding forward, they are directed by an Angel which way to ascend to the next cornice of the mountain.

Our journey was not slacken'd by our talk, Nor yet our talk by journeying. Still we spake, And urged our travel stoutly, like a ship When the wind sits astern. The shadowy forms, That seem'd things dead and dead again, drew in At their deep - delved orbs rare wonder of me, Perceiving I had life; and I my words Continued, and thus spake: "He journeys up Perhaps more tardily than else he would, For others' sake. But tell me, if thou know'st, Where is Piccarda? Tell me, if I see Any of mark, among this multitude Who eye me thus." - "My sister (she for whom, 'Twixt beautiful and good, I cannot say Which name was fitter) wears e'en now her crown, And triumphs in Olympus." Saying this, He added: Since spare diet hath so worn Our semblance out, 'tis lawful here to name Each one. This," and his finger then he raised, 'Is Buonaggiunta,[1] - Buonaggiunta, he Of Lucca: and that face beyond him, pierced Unto a leaner fineness than the rest, Had keeping of the Church; he was of Tours,[2] And purges by wan abstinence away Bolsena's eels and cups of muscadel."

[1: "Buonaggiunta." Buonaggiunta Urbiciani, of Lucca.]

[2: "He was of Tours." Simon of Tours became Pope with the title of Martin IV in 1281, and died in 1285.]

He show'd me many others one by one: And all, as they were named, seem'd well content; For no dark gesture I discern'd in any. I saw, through hunger, Ubaldino[3] grind

[3: "Ubaldino degli Ubaldini, of Pila, in the Florentine territory.]

His teeth on emptiness; and Boniface,[4] That waved the crozier o'er a numerous flock. I saw the Marquis, who had time erewhile To swill at Forli with less drought; yet so, Was one ne'er stated. I howe'er, like him That, gazing 'midst a crowd, singles out one, So singled him of Lucca; for methought Was none amongst them took such note of me. Somewhat I heard him whisper of Gentucca: The sound was indistinct and murmur'd there, Where justice, that so strips them, fix'd her sting.

[4: "Boniface," Archbishop of Ravenna. By Venturi he is called Bonifazio de' Fieschi, a Genoese; by Vellutello, the son of the above - mentioned Ubaldini; and by Landino, Francioso, a Frenchman.]

"Spirit!" said I, "it seems as thou wouldst fain Speak with me. Let me hear thee. Mutual wish To converse prompts, which let us both indulge."

He, answering, straight began: "Woman is born, Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make My city please thee, blame it as they may. Go then with this forewarning. If aught false My whisper too implied, the event shall tell. But say, if of a truth I see the man Of that new lay the inventor, which begins With "Ladies, ye that con the lore of love.'"

To whom I thus: "Count of me but as one, Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes, Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write."

"Brother!" said he, "the hindrance, which once held The notary, with Guittone and myself, Short of that new and sweeter style I hear, Is now disclosed: I see how ye your plumes Stretch, as the inditer guides them; which, no question, Ours did not. He that seeks a grace beyond, Sees not the distance parts one style from other." And, as contented, here he held his peace.

Like as the birds, that winter near the Nile, In squared regiment direct their course, Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight; Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn'd

Their visage, faster fled, nimble alike Through leanness and desire. And as a man, Tired with the motion of a trotting steed, Slacks pace, and stays behind his company, Till his o'erbreathed lungs keep temperate time; E'en so Forese let that holy crew Proceed, behind them lingering at my side, And saying: "When shall I again behold thee?"

"How long my life may last," said I, "I know not: This know, how soon soever I return, My wishes will before me have arrived: Sithence the place,[5] where I am set to live, Is, day by day, more scoop'd of all its good; And dismal ruin seems to threaten it,".

[5: "The place." Florence.]

"Go now," he cried: "lo! he,[6] whose guilt is most, Passes before my vision, dragg'd at heels Of an infuriate beast. Toward the vale, Where guilt hath no redemption, on its speeds, Each step increasing swiftness on the last; Until a blow it strikes, that leaveth him A corse most vilely shatter'd. No long space Those wheels have yet to roll," (therewith his eyes Look'd up to Heaven,) "ere thou shalt plainly see That which my words may not more plainly tell. I quit thee: time is precious here: I lose Too much, thus measuring my pace with thine."

[6: "He." Corso Donati was suspected of aiming at the sovereignty of Florence. To escape the fury of his fellow - citizens, he fled away on horseback, but falling, was overtaken and slain, A.D. 1308. The contemporary annalist, after relating at length the circumstances of his fate, adds, "that he was one of the wisest and most valorous knights, the best speaker, the most expert statesman, the most renowned and enterprising man of his age in Italy, a comely knight and of graceful carriage, but very worldly, and in his time had formed many conspiracies in Florence, and entered into many scandalous practices for the sake of attaining state and lordship." G. Villani, lib. v.]

As from a troop of well - rank'd chivalry, One knight, more enterprising than the rest, Pricks forth at gallop, eager to display His prowess in the first encounter proved; So parted he from us, with lengthen'd strides; And left me on the way with those twain spirits, Who were such mighty marshals of the world.

When he beyond us had so fled, mine eyes No nearer reach'd him, than my thoughts his words, The branches of another fruit, thick hung, And blooming fresh, appear'd. E'en as our steps Turn'd thither; not far off, it rose to view. Beneath it were a multitude, that raised Their hands, and shouted forth I know not what Unto the boughs; like greedy and fond brats, That beg, and answer none obtain from him, Of whom they beg; but more to draw them on, He, at arm's length, the object of their wish Above them holds aloft, and hides it not.

At length, as undeceived, they went their way: And we approach the tree, whom vows and tears Sue to in vain; the mighty tree. "Pass on, And come not near. Stands higher up the wood, Whereof Eve tasted: and from it was ta'en This plant." Such sounds from midst the thickets came Whence I, with either bard, close to the side That rose, pass'd forth beyond. "Remember," next We heard, "those unblest creatures of the clouds,[7] How they their twofold bosoms, overgorged, Opposed on fight to Theseus: call to mind The Hebrews, how, effeminate, they stoop'd To ease their thirst; whence Gideon's ranks were thinn'd, As he to Midian[8] march'd adown the hills."

[7: The Centaurs.]

[8: Judges, vii.]

Thus near one border coasting, still we heard The sins of gluttony, with woe erewhile Reguerdon'd. Then along the lonely path, Once more at large, full thousand paces on We travel'd, each contemplative and mute.

"Why pensive journey so ye three alone?" thus suddenly a voice exclaim'd: whereat I shook, as doth a scared and paltry beast; Then raised my head, to look from whence it came.

Was ne'er, in furnace, glass, or metal, seen So bright and glowing red, as was the shape I now beheld. "If ye desire to mount," He cried; "here must ye turn. This way he goes,

Who goes in quest of peace." His countenance Had dazzled me; and to my guides I faced Backward, like one who walks as sound directs.

As when, to harbinger the dawn, springs up On Freshen'd wing the air of May, and breathes Of fragrance, all impregn'd with herb and flowers; E'en such a wind I felt upon my front Blow gently, and the moving of a wing Perceived, that, moving, shed ambrosial smell; And then a voice: "Blessed are they, whom grace Doth so illume, that appetite in them Exhaleth no inordinate desire, Still hungering as the rule of temperance wills."

Purgatory Canto 25

Canto XXV

Argument

Virgil and Statius resolve some doubts that have arisen in the mind of Dante from what he had just seen. They all arrive on the seventh and last cornice, where the sin of incontinence is purged in fire; and the spirits of those suffering therein are heard to record illustrious instances of chastity.

It was an hour, when he who climbs, had need To walk uncrippled: for the sun[1] had now To Taurus the meridian circle left, And to the Scorpion left the night. As one, That makes no pause, but presses on his road, Whate'er betide him, if some urgent need Impel; so enter'd we upon our way, One before other; for, but singly, none That steep and narrow scale admits to climb.

[1: "The sun." The sun had passed the meridian two hours, and that meridian was now occupied by the constellation of Taurus, to which as the Scorpion is opposite, the latter constellation was co sequently at the meridian of night.]

E'en as the young stork lifteth up his wing Through wish to fly, yet ventures not to quit The nest, and drops it; so in me desire Of questioning my guide arose, and fell, Arriving even to the act that marks A man prepared for speech. Him all our haste Restrain'd not; but thus spake the sire beloved: "Fear not to speed the shaft, that on thy lip

Stands trembling for its flight." Encouraged thus, I straight began: "How there can leanness come, Where is no want of nourishment to feed?"

"If thou," he answer'd, hadst remember'd thee, How Meleager[2] with the wasting brand Wasted alike, by equal fires consumed; This would not trouble thee: and hadst thou thought, How in the mirror[3] your reflected form With mimic motion vibrates; what now seems Hard, had appear'd no harder than the pulp Of summer - fruit mature. But that thy will In certainty may find its full repose, Lo Statius here! on him I call, and pray That he would now be healer of thy wound."

[2: Virgil reminds Dante that, as Meleager was wasted away by the decree of the fates, and not through want of blood; so by the divine appointment, there may be leanness where there is no need of nourishment.]

[3: As the reflection of a form in a mirror is modified with the modification of the form itself; so the soul, separated from the earthly body, impresses the ghost of that body with its own affections.]

"If, in thy presence, I unfold to him The secrets of Heaven's vengeance, let me plead Thine own injunction to exculpate me." So Statius answer'd, and forthwith began: "Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind Receive them; so shall they be light to clear The doubt thou offer'st. Blood, concocted well, Which by the thirsty veins is ne'er imbibed, And rests as food superfluous, to be ta'en From the replenish'd table, in the heart Derives effectual virtue, that informs The several human limbs, as being that Which passes through the veins itself to make them. Yet more concocted it descends, where shame Forbids to mention: and from thence distils In natural vessel on another's blood. There each unite together; one disposed To endure, to act the other, through that power Derived from whence it came; and being met, It' gins to work, coagulating first; Then vivifies what its own substance made

Consist. With animation now indued, The active virtue (differing from a plant No further, than that this is on the way, And at its limit that) continues yet To operate, that now it moves, and feels, As sea - sponge clinging to the rock: and there Assumes the organic powers its seed convey'd. This is the moment, son! at which the virtue, That from the generating heart proceeds, Is pliant and expansive; for each limb Is in the heart by forgetful nature plann'd. How babe of animal becomes, remains For thy considering. At this point, more wise, Than thou, has err'd, making the soul disjoin'd From passive intellect, because he saw No organ for the latter's use assign'd.

"Open thy bosom to the truth that comes. Know, soon as in the embryo, to the brain Articulation is complete, then turns The primal Mover with a smile of joy On such great work of nature; and imbreathes New spirit replete with virtue, that what here Active it finds, to its own substance draws; And forms an individual soul, that lives, And feels, and bends reflective on itself. And that thou less may'st marvel at the word, Mark the sun's heat; how that to wine doth change, Mix'd with the moisture filter'd through the vine.

"When Lachesis hath spun the thread,[4] the soul Takes with her both the human and divine, Memory, intelligence, and will, in act Far keener than before; the other powers Inactive all and mute. No pause allow'd, In wondrous sort self - moving, to one strand Of those, where the departed roam, she falls: Here learns her destined path. Soon as the place Receives her, round the plastic virtue beams, Distinct as in the living limbs before: And as the air, when saturate with showers,

[4: "When Lachesis hath spun the thread." When a man's life on earth is at an end.]

The casual beam refracting, decks itself With many a hue; so here the ambient air Weareth that form, which influence of the soul Imprints on it: and like the flame, that where The fire moves, thither follows; so, henceforth, The new form on the spirit follows still: Hence hath it semblance, and is shadow call'd, With each sense, even to the sight, indued: Hence speech is ours, hence laughter, tears, and sighs, Which thou mayst oft have witness'd on the mount. The obedient shadow fails not to present Whatever varying passion moves within us. And this the cause of what thou marvel'st at."

Now the last flexure of our way we reach'd; And to the right hand turning, other care Awaits us. Here the rocky precipice Hurls forth redundant flames; and from the rim A blast up - blown, with forcible rebuff Driveth them back, sequester'd from its bound.

Behoved us, one by one, along the side, That border'd on the void, to pass; and I Fear'd on one hand the fire, on the other fear'd Headlong to fall: when thus the instructor warn'd: "Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes. A little swerving and the way is lost."

Then from the bosom of the burning mass, "O God of mercy!"[5] heard I sung, and felt No less desire to turn. And when I saw Spirits along the flame proceeding, I Between their footsteps and mine own was fain To share by turns my view. At the hymn's close They shouted loud, "I do not know a man;"[6] Then in low voice again took up the strain; Which once more ended, "To the wood," they cried, "Ran Dian, and drave forth Callisto stung With Cytherea's poison"; then return'd Unto their song; then many a pair extoll'd,

[5: "Summae Deus clementiae." The beginning of the hymn sung on the Sabbath at matins, as in the ancient breviaries; in the modern it is "summae parens clementiae."]

[6: Luke, i. 34.]

Who lived in virtue chastely and the bands Of wedded love. Nor from that task, I ween, Surcease they; whilesoe'er the scorching fire Enclasps them. Of such skill appliance needs, To medicine the wound that healeth last.

Purgatory Canto 26

Canto XXVI

Argument

The spirits wonder at seeing the shadow cast by the body of Dante on the flame as he passes it. This moves one of them to address him. It proves to be Guido Guinicelli, the Italian poet, who points out to him the spirit of Arnault Daniel, the Provencal, with whom he also speaks.

While singly thus along the rim we walk'd, Oft the good master warn'd me: "Look thou Avail it that I caution thee." The sun [well. Now all the western clime irradiate changed From azure tinct to white; and, as I pass'd, My passing shadow made the umber'd flame Burn ruddier. At so strange a sight I mark'd That many a spirit marvel'd on his way.

This bred occasion first to speak of me. "He seems," said they, "no insubstantial frame:" Then, to obtain what certainty they might, Stretch'd tow'rd me, careful not to overpass The burning pale. "O thou, who followest The others, haply not more slow than they, But moved by reverence; answer me, who burn In thirst and fire: nor I alone, but these All for thine answer do more thirst, than doth Indian or Aethiop for the cooling stream. Tell us, how is it that thou makest thyself A wall against the sun, as thou not yet Into the inextricable toils of death Hadst enter'd?" Thus spake one; and I had straight Declared me, if attention had not turn'd To new appearance. Meeting these, there came, Midway the burning path, a crowd, on whom Earnestly gazing, from each part I view The shadows all press forward, severally Each snatch a hasty kiss, and then away. E'en so the emmets, 'mid their dusky troops, Peer closely one at other, to spy out Their mutual road perchance, and how they thrive.

That friendly greeting parted, ere despatch Of the first onward step, from either tribe Loud clamour rises: those, who newly come, Shout "Sodom and Gomorrah!" these, "The cow Pasiphae enter'd, that the beast she woo'd Might rush unto her luxury." Then as cranes, That part toward the Riphaean mountains fly, Part toward the Lybic sands, these to avoid The ice, and those the sun; so hasteth off One crowd, advances the other; and resume Their first song, weeping, and their several shout.

Again drew near my side the very same, Who had erewhile besought me; and their looks Mark'd eagerness to listen. I, who twice Their will had noted, spake: "O spirits! secure, Whene'er the time may be, of peaceful end; My limbs, nor crude, nor in mature old age, Have I left yonder: here they bear me, fed With blood, and sinew - strung. That I no more May live in blindness, hence I tend aloft. There is a Dame on high, who wins for us This grace, by which my mortal through your realm I bear. But may your utmost wish soon meet Such full fruition, that the orb of heaven, Fullest of love, and of most ample space, Receive you; as ye tell (upon my page Henceforth to stand recorded) who ye are; And what this multitude, that at your backs Have pass'd behind us." As one, mountain - bred, Rugged and clownish, if some city's walls He chance to enter, round him stares agape, Confounded and struck dumb; e'en such appear'd Each spirit. But when rid of that amaze, (Not long the inmate of a noble heart,) He, who before had question'd thus resumed: "O blessed! who, for death preparing, takest Experience of our limits, in thy bark; Their crime, who not with us proceed, was that For which, as he did triumph, Caesar heard The shout of 'queen,' to taunt him. Hence their cry Of 'Sodom,' as they parted; to rebuke Themselves, and aid the burning by their shame. Our sinning was hermaphrodite: but we, Because the law of human kind we broke, Following like beasts our vile concupiscence, Hence parting from them, to our own disgrace Record the name of her, by whom the beast In bestial tire was acted. Now our deeds Thou know'st, and how we sinn'd. If thou by name Wouldst haply know us, time permits not now To tell so much, nor can I. Of myself Learn what thou wishest. Guinicelli I; Who having truly sorrow'd ere my last, Already cleanse me." With such pious joy, As the two sons upon their mother gazed From sad Lycurgus[1] rescued; such my joy (Save that I more repress'd it) when I heard From his own lips the name of him pronounced, Who was a father to me, and to those My betters, who have ever used the sweet And pleasant rhymes of love. So naught I heard, Nor spake; but long time thoughtfully I went, Gazing on him; and, only for the fire, Approached not nearer. When my eyes were fed By looking on him; with such solemn pledge, As forces credence, I devoted me Unto his service wholly. In reply He thus bespake me: "What from thee I hear Is graved so deeply on my mind, the waves Of Lethe shall not wash it off, nor make A whit less lively. But as now thy oath Has seal'd the truth, declare what cause impels

[1: Hypsipile had left her infant charge, the son of Lycurgus, on a bank, where it was destroyed by a serpent, when she went to show the Argive army the river of Langia; and on her escaping the effects of Lycurgus' resentment, the joy her own children felt at the sight of her was such as our Poet felt on beholding his predecessor Guinicelli.]

That love, which both thy looks and speech bewray."

"Those dulcet lays," I answer'd; "which, as long As of our tongue the beauty does not fade, Shall make us love the very ink that traced them."

"Brother!" he cried, and pointed at the shade Before him, "there is one, whose mother speech Doth owe to him a fairer ornament. He[2] in love ditties, and the tales of prose, Without a rival stands; and lets the fools Talk on, who think the songster of Limoges[3] O'ertops him. Rumour and the popular voice They look to, more than truth; and so confirm Opinion, ere by art or reason taught. Thus many of the elder time cried up Guittone, giving him the prize, till truth By strength of numbers vanquish'd. If thou own So ample privilege, as to have gain'd Free entrance to the cloister, whereof Christ Is Abbot of the college; say to him One paternoster for me, far as needs For dwellers in this world, where power to sin No longer tempts us." Haply to make way For one that follow'd next, when that was said, He vanish'd through the fire, as through the wave A fish, that glances diving to the deep.

[2: Dante and Petrarch place Arnault Daniel first among Povencal poets.]

[3: Giraud de Borneil, of Sideuil, a castle in Limoges. He was a Troubadour, much admired and caressed in his day, and appears to have been in favor with the monarchs of Castile, Leon, Navarre, and Arragon.]

I, to the spirit he had shown me, drew A little onward, and besought his name, For which my heart, I said, kept gracious room. He frankly thus began: "Thy courtesy[4] So wins on me, I have nor power nor will To hide me. I am Arnault; and with songs, Sorely waymenting for my folly past, Thorough this ford of fire I wade, and see The day, I hope for, smiling in my view. I pray ye by the worth that guides ye up

[4: Arnault is here made to speak in his own tongue, the Provencal.]

Unto the summit of the scale, in time Remember ye my sufferings." With such words He disappear'd in the refining flame.

Purgatory Canto 27

Canto XXVII

Argument

An Angel sends them forward through the fire to the last ascent, which leads to the terrestrial Paradise, situated on the summit of the mountain. They have not proceeded many steps on their way upward, when the fall of night hinders them from going further; and our Poet, who has lain down with Virgil and Statius to rest, beholds in a dream two females, figuring the active and contemplative life. With the return of morning, they reach the height; and here Virgil gives Dante full liberty to use his own pleasure and judgment in the choice of his way, till he shall meet with Beatrice.

Now was the sun[1] so station'd as when first His early radiance quivers on the heights, Where stream'd his Maker's blood; while Libra hangs Above Hesperian Ebro; and new fires, Meridian, flash on Ganges' yellow tide.

[1: "The sun," At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight, and in India noonday, in Purgatory sunset.]

So day was sinking, when the Angel of God Appear'd before us. Joy was in his mien. Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink; And with a voice, whose lively clearness far Surpass'd our human, "Blessed[2] are the pure In heart," he sang: then near him as we came, "Go ye not further, holy spirits!" he cried, "Ere the fire pierce you: enter in; and list Attentive to the song ye hear from thence."

[2: "Blessed." - Matt. v. 8.]

I, when I heard his saying, was as one Laid in the grave. My hands together clasp'd, And upward stretching, on the fire I look'd; And busy fancy conjured up the forms Erewhile beheld alive consumed in flames.

The escorting spirits turn'd with gentle looks Toward me; and the Mantuan spake: "My son, Here torment thou mayst feel, but canst not death. Remember thee, remember thee, if I Safe e'en on Geryon brought thee; now I come More near to God, wilt thou not trust me now?

Of this be sure; though in its womb that flame A thousand years contain'd thee, from thy head No hair should perish. If thou doubt my truth, Approach; and with thy hand thy vesture's hem Stretch forth, and for thyself confirm belief. Lay now all fear, oh! lay all fear aside. Turn hither, and come onward undismay'd."

I still, though conscience urged, no step advanced.

When still he saw me fix'd and obstinate. Somewhat disturb'd he cried: "Mark now, my son, From Beatrice thou art by this wall Divided." As at Thisbe's name the eye Of Pyramus was open'd, (when life ebb'd Fast from his veins), and took one parting glance, While vermeil dyed the mulberry; thus I turn'd To my sage guide, relenting, when I heard The name that springs forever in my breast.

He shook his forehead; and, "How long," he said, "Linger we now?" then smiled, as one would smile Upon a child that eyes the fruit and yields. Into the fire before me then he walk'd; And Statius, who erewhile no little space Had parted us, he pray'd to come behind.

I would have cast me into molten glass To cool me, when I enter'd; so intense Raged the conflagrant mass. The sire beloved, To comfort me, as he proceeded, still Of Beatrice talk'd. "Her eyes," saith he, "E'en now I seem to view." From the other side A voice, that sang, did guide us; and the voice Following, with heedful ear, we issued forth, There where the path led upward. "Come,"[3] we heard, "Come, blessed of my Father." Such the sounds, That hail'd us from within a light, which shone So radiant, I could not endure the view. "The sun," it added, "hastes: and evening comes. Delay not: ere the western sky is hung With blackness, strive ye for the pass." Our way Upright within the rock arose, and faced Such part of heaven, that from before my steps

[3: "Come." - Matt. xxv. 34.]

The beams were shrouded of the sinking sun.

Nor many stairs were overpast, when now By fading of the shadow we perceived The sun behind us couch'd; and ere one face Of darkness o'er its measureless expanse Involved the horizon, and the night her lot Held individual, each of us had made A stair his pallet; not that will, but power, Had fail'd us, by the nature of that mount Forbidden further travel. As the goats, That late have skipt and wanton'd rapidly Upon the craggy cliffs, ere they had ta'en Their supper on the herb, now silent lie And ruminate beneath the umbrage brown, While noon - day rages; and the goatherd leans Upon his staff, and leaning watches them: And as the swain, that lodges out all night In quiet by his flock, lest beast of prey Disperse them: even so all three abode, I as a goat, and as the shepherds they, Close pent on either side by shelving rock.

A little glimpse of sky was seen above; Yet by that little I beheld the stars, In magnitude and lustre shining forth With more than wonted glory. As I lay, Gazing on them, and in that fit of musing Sleep overcame me, sleep, that bringeth oft Tidings of future hap. About the hour, As I believe, when Venus from the east First lighten'd on the mountain, she whose orb Seems always glowing with the fire of love, A lady young and beautiful, I dream'd, Was passing o'er a lea; and, as she came, Methought I saw her ever and anon Bending to cull the flowers, and thus she sang: "Know ye, whoever of my name would ask, That I am Leah:[4] for my brow to weave

[4: Leah, the active life; Rachel, the contemplative; Michael Angelo has used these allegorical personages on his monument of Julius II in the church of S. Pietro in Vincolo.]

A garland, these fair hands unwearied ply. To please me at the crystal mirror, here I deck me. But my sister Rachel, she Before her glass abides the livelong day, Her radiant eyes beholding, charm'd no less, Than I with this delightful task. Her joy In contemplation, as in labour mine."

And now as glimmering dawn appear'd, that breaks More welcome to the pilgrim still, as he Sojourns less distant on his homeward way, Darkness from all sides fled, and with it fled My slumber; whence I rose, and saw my guide Already risen. "That delicious fruit, Which through so many a branch the zealous care Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day Appease thy hunger." Such the words I heard From Virgil's lip; and never greeting heard, So pleasant as the sounds. Within me straight Desire so grew upon desire to mount, Thenceforward at each step I felt the wings Increasing for my flight. When we had run O'er all the ladder to its topmost round, As there we stood, on me the Mantuan fix'd His eyes, and thus he spake: "Both fires, my son, The temporal and eternal, thou hast seen; And art arrived, where of itself my ken No further reaches. I, with skill and art, Thus far have drawn thee. Now thy pleasure take For guide. Thou hast o'ercome the steeper way, O'ercome the straiter. Lo! the sun, that darts His beam upon my forehead: lo! the herb, The arboreta and flowers, which of itself This land pours forth profuse. Till those bright eyes[5] With gladness come, which, weeping, made me haste To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down, Or wander where thou wilt. Expect no more Sanction of warning voice or sign from me, Free of thy own arbitrament to chose, Discreet, judicious. To distrust thy sense

[5: The eyes of Beatrice.]

Were henceforth error. I invest thee then With crown and mitre, sovereign o'er thyself."

Purgatory Canto 28

Canto XXVIII

Argument

Dante wanders through the forest of the terrestrial Paradise, till he is stopped by a stream, on the other side of which he beholds a fair lady, culling flowers. He speaks to her; and she, in reply, explains to him certain things touching the nature of that place, and tells that the water, which flows between them, is here called Lethe, and in another place has the name of Eunoe.

Through that celestial forest, whose thick shade With lively greenness the new - springing day Attemper'd, eager now to roam, and search Its limits round, forthwith I left the bank; Along the champain leisurely my way Pursuing, o'er the ground, that on all sides Delicious odour breathed. A pleasant air, That intermitted never, never veer'd, Smote on my temples, gently, as a wind Of softest influence: at which the sprays, Obedient all, lean'd trembling to that part[1] Where first the holy mountain casts his shade; Yet were not so disorder'd, but that still Upon their top the feather'd quiristers Applied their wonted art, and with full joy Welcomed those hours of prime, and warbled shrill Amid the leaves, that to their jocund lays Kept tenour; even as from branch to branch, Along the piny forests on the shore Of Chiassi, rolls the gathering melody, When Eolus hath from his cavern loosed The dripping south. Already had my steps, Though slow, so far into that ancient wood Transported me, I could not ken the place Where I had enter'd; when, behold! my path Was bounded by a rill, which, to the left, With little rippling waters bent the grass That issued from its brink. On earth no wave How clean soe'er, that would not seem to have

[1: "To that part." The west.]

Some mixture in itself, compared with this, Transpicuous clear; yet darkly on it roll'd, Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er Admits or sun or moon - light there to shine.

My feet advanced not; but my wondering eyes Pass'd onward, o'er the streamlet to survey The tender May - bloom, flush'd through many a hue, In prodigal variety: and there, As object, rising suddenly to view, That from our bosom every thought beside With the rare marvel chases, I beheld A lady[2] all alone, who, singing, went, And culling flower from flower, wherewith her way Was all o'er painted. "Lady beautiful! Thou, who (if looks, that use to speak the heart, Art worthy of our trust) with love's own beam Dost warm thee," thus to her my speech I framed; "Ah! please thee hither toward the streamlet bend Thy steps so near, that I may list thy song. Beholding thee and this fair place, methinks, I call to mind where wander'd and how look'd Proserpine, in that season, when her child The mother lost, and she the bloomy spring."

[2: Most of the commentators suppose that this lady, who in the last Canto is called Matilda, is the Countess Matilda, who endowed the Holy See with the estates called the Patrimony of St. Peter, and died in 1115. But it seems more probable that she should be intended for an allegorical personage.]

As when a lady, turning in the dance, Doth foot it featly, and advances scarce One step before the other to the ground; Over the yellow and vermilion flowers, Thus turn'd she at my suit, most maiden - like Valing her sober eyes; and came so near, That I distinctly caught the dulcet sound. Arriving where the limpid waters now Laved the greensward, her eyes she deign'd to raise, That shot such splendour on me, as I ween Ne'er glanced from Cytherea's, when her son Had sped his keenest weapon to her heart. Upon the opposite bank she stood and smiled; As through her graceful fingers shifted still

The intermingling dyes, which without seed That lofty land unbosoms. By the stream Three paces only were we sunder'd: yet, The Hellespont, where Xerxes pass'd it o'er, (A curb for ever to the pride of man,[3]) Was by Leander not more hateful held For floating, with inhospitable wave, 'Twixt Sestos and Abydos, than by me That flood, because it gave no passage thence.

[3: Because Xerxes had been so humbled, when he was compelled to repass the Hellespont in one small bark, after having a little before crossed with a prodigious army, in the hopes of subduing Greece.]

"Strangers ye come; and haply in this place, That cradled human nature in its birth, Wondering, ye not without suspicion view My smiles: but that sweet strain of psalmody, 'Thou, Lord! hast made me glad,'[4] will give ye light, Which may uncloud your minds. And thou, who stand'st The foremost, and didst make thy suit to me, Say if aught else thou wish to hear: for I Came prompt to answer every doubt of thine."

[4: "Thou, Lord! hast made me glad." - Psalm xcii. 4.]

She spake; and I replied: "I know not how To reconcile this wave, and rustling sound Of forest leaves, with what I late have heard Of opposite report." She answering thus: "I will unfold the cause, whence that proceeds, Which makes thee wonder; and so purge the cloud That hath enwrapt thee. The First Good, whose joy Is only in Himself, created man, For happiness; and gave this goodly place, His pledge and earnest of eternal peace. Favour'd thus highly, through his own defect He fell; and here made short sojourn; he fell, And, for the bitterness of sorrow, changed Laughter unblamed and ever - new delight. That vapours none, exhaled from earth beneath, Or from the waters, (which, wherever heat Attracts them, follow), might ascend thus far To vex man's peaceful state, this mountain rose So high toward the Heaven, nor fears the rage

Of elements contending; from that part Exempted, where the gate his limit bars. Because the circumambient air, throughout, With its first impulse circles still, unless Aught interpose to check or thwart its course; Upon the summit, which on every side To visitation of the impassive air Is open, doth that motion strike, and makes Beneath its sway the umbrageous wood resound: And in the shaken plant such power resides, That it impregnates with its efficacy The voyaging breeze, upon whose subtle plume That, wafted, flies abroad; and the other land,[5] Receiving, (as 'tis worthy in itself, Or in the clime, that warms it,) doth conceive; And from its womb produces many a tree Of various virtue. This when thou hast heard, The marvel ceases, if in yonder earth Some plant, without apparent seed, be found To fix its fibrous stem. And further learn, That with prolific foison of all seeds This holy plain is fill'd, and in itself Bears fruit that ne'er was pluck'd on other soil.

[5: The continent, inhabited by the living, and separated from Purgatory by the ocean, is affected (and that diversely, according to the nature of the soil, or the climate) by a virtue, conveyed to it by the winds from plants growing in the terrestrial Paradise, which is situated on the summit of Purgatory; and this is the cause why some plants are found on earth without any apparent seed to produce them.]

"The water, thou behold'st, springs not from vein, Restored by vapour, that the cold converts; As stream that intermittently repairs And spends his pulse of life; but issues forth From fountain, solid, undecaying, sure: And, by the Will Omnific, full supply Feeds whatsoe'er on either side it pours; On this, devolved with power to take away Remembrance of offence; on that, to bring Remembrance back of every good deed done. From whence its name of Lethe on this part; On the other, Eunoe: both of which must first

Be tasted, ere it work; the last exceeding All flavours else. Albeit thy thirst may now Be well contented, if I here break off, No more revealing; yet a corollary I freely give beside: nor deem my words Less grateful to thee, if they somewhat pass The stretch of promise. They, whose verse of yore The golden age recorded and its bliss, On the Parnassian mountain, of this place Perhaps had dream'd. Here was man guiltless; here Perpetual spring, and every fruit; and this The far - famed nectar." Turning to the bards, When she had ceased, I noted in their looks A smile at her conclusion; then my face Again directed to the lovely dame.

Purgatory Canto 29

Canto XXIX

Argument

The lady, who in a following Canto is called Matilda, moves along the side of the stream in a contrary direction to the current, and Dante keeps equal pace with her on the opposite bank. A marvellous sight, preceded by music, appears in view.

Singing, as if enamour'd, she resumed And closed the song, with "Blessed they[1] whose sins Are cover'd." Like the wood - nymphs then, that Singly across the sylvan shadows; one [tripp'd Eager to view, and one to escape the sun; So moved she on, against the current, up The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step Observing, with as tardy step pursued.

[1: "Blessed they." - Psalm xxxii. 1.]

Between us not an hundred paces trod, The bank, on each side bending equally, Gave me to face the orient. Nor our way Far onward brought us, when to me at once She turn'd, and cried: "My brother! look, and hearken." And lo! a sudden lustre ran across Through the great forest on all parts, so bright, I doubted whether lightning were abroad; But that, expiring ever in the spleen

That doth unfold it, and this during still, And waxing still in splendour, made me question What it might be: and a sweet melody Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide, With warrantable zeal, the hardihood Of our first, parent; for that there, where earth, Stood in obedience to the Heavens, she only, Woman, the creature of an hour, endured not Restraint of any veil, which had she borne Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these, Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.

While, through that wilderness of primly sweets That never fade, suspense I walk'd, and yet Expectant of beatitude more high; Before us, like a blazing fire, the air Under the green boughs glow'd; and, for a song, Distinct the sound of melody was heard.

O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes If e'er I suffer'd hunger, cold, and watching, Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty. Now through my breast let Helicon his stream Pour copious, and Urania[2] with her choir Arise to aid me; while the verse unfolds Things, that do almost mock the grasp of thought.

[2: "Urania." Landino observes, that intending to sing of heavenly things, he rightly invokes Urania. Thus Milton: "Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art call'd." Paradise Lost, b. vii. 1.]

Onward a space, what seem'd seven trees of gold The intervening distance to mine eye Falsely presented; but, when I was come So near them, that no lineament was lost Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense; Then did the faculty, that ministers Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold[3] Distinguish; and i' the singing trace the sound "Hosanna!" Above, their beauteous garniture Flamed with more ample lustre, than the moon Through cloudless sky at midnight, in her noon.

[3: See Rev. i. 12.]

I turn'd me, full of wonder, to my guide; And he did answer with a countenance Charged with no less amazement: whence my view Reverted to those lofty things, which came So slowly moving toward us, that the bride Would have outstript them on her bridal day.

The lady call'd aloud: "Why thus yet burns Affection in thee for these living lights, And dost not look on that which follows them?"

I straightway mark'd a tribe behind them walk, As if attendant on their leaders, clothed With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth Was never. On my left, the watery gleam Borrow'd, and gave me back, when there I look'd, As in a mirror, my left side portray'd.

When I had chosen on the river's edge Such station, that the distance of the stream Alone did separate me; there I stay'd My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld The flames go onward, leaving, as they went, The air behind them painted as with trail Of liveliest pencils; so distinct were mark'd All those seven listed colours, whence the sun Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone. These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond My vision; and ten paces, as I guess, Parted the outermost. Beneath a sky So beautiful, came four and twenty elders[4], By two and two, with flower - de - luces crown'd. All sang one song: "Blessed be thou[5] among The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness Blessed forever!" After that the flowers, And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink, Were free from that elected race; as light In heaven doth second light, came after them Four[6] animals, each crown'd with verdurous leaf. With six wings each was plumed; the plumage full

[4: "Upon the seats I saw four and twenty elders sitting." - Rev. iv. 4.]

[5: "Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb." - Luke 1. 42.]

[6: "Four." The four evangelists.]

Of eyes; and the eyes of Argus would be such, Were they endued with life. Reader! more rhymes I will not waste in shadowing forth their form: For other need so straitens, that in this I may not give my bounty room. But read Ezekiel;[7] for he paints them, from the north How he beheld them come by Chebar's flood, In whirlwind, cloud, and fire; and even such As thou shalt find them character'd by him, Here were they; save as to the pennons: there, From him departing, John[8] accords with me.

[7: "Ezekiel." "And I looked, and behold, a whirlwind came out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire infolding itself, and a brightness was about it, and out of the midst thereof as the color of amber, out of the midst of fire. Also out of the midst thereof came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance; they had the likeness of a man. And every one had four faces, and every one had four wings." - Ezekiel, i. 4, 5, 6.]

[8: "John." "And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him." - Rev. iv. 8.]

The space, surrounded by the four, enclosed A car triumphal:[9] on two wheels it came, Drawn at a Gryphon's[10] neck; and he above Stretch'd either wing uplifted, 'tween the midst And the three listed hues, on each side, three; So that the wings did cleave or injure none; And out of sight they rose. The members, far As he was bird, were golden; white the rest, with vermeil interven'd. So beautiful A car, in Rome, ne'er graced Augustus' pomp, Or Africanus': e'en the sun's itself Were poor to this; that chariot of the sun, Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell At Tellus' prayer devout, by the just doom Mysterious of all - seeing Jove. Three nymphs[11], At the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance: The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce Been known within a furnace of clear flame;

[9: Either the Christian Church or perhaps the papal chair.]

[10: Under the griffin (gryphon), an imaginary creature, the fore - part of which is an eagle, and the hinder a lion, is shadowed forth the union of the divine and the human nature in Jesus Christ.]

[11: The three evangelical virtues: Charity, Hope, and Faith. Faith may be produced by charity, or charity by faith, but the inducements to hope must arise either from one or other of these.]

The next did look, as if the flesh and bones Were emerald; snow new - fallen seem'd the third. Now seem'd the white to lead, the ruddy now; And from her song who led, the others took Their measure, swift or slow. At the other wheel, A band quaternion[12], each in purple clad, Advanced with festal step, as, of them, one The rest conducted;[13] one, upon whose front Three eyes were seen. In rear of all this group, Two old men[14] I beheld, dissimilar In raiment, but in port and gesture like, Solid and mainly grave; of whom, the one Did show himself some favor'd counsellor Of the great Coan,[15] him, whom nature made To serve the costliest creature of her tribe: His fellow mark'd an opposite intent; Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge, E'en as I viewed it with the flood between, Appall'd me. Next, four others[16] I beheld Of humble seeming: and, behind them all, One single old man,[17] sleeping as he came, With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each Like the first troop were habited; but wore No braid of lilies on their temples wreathed. Rather, with roses and each vermeil flower, A sight, but little distant, might have sworn, That they were all on fire above their brow.

[12: The four moral virtues, of whom Prudence directs the others.]

[13: Prudence, described with three eyes, because she regards the past, the present, and the future.]

[14: "Two old men." St. Luke, the physician, characterized as the writer of the Acts of the Apostles, and St. Paul, represented with a sword, on account, as it should seem, of the power of his style.]

[15: Hippocrates, "whom nature made for the benefit of her favorite creature, man."]

[16: "The commentators," says Venturi, "suppose these four to be the four evangelists; but I should rather take them to be four principal doctors of the Church." Yet both Landino and Vellutello expressly call them the authors of the epistles, James, Peter, John, and Jude.]

[17: As some say, St. John, under the character of the author of the Apocalypse.]

When as the car was o'er against me, straight Was heard a thundering, at whose voice it seem'd The chosen multitude were stay'd; for there, With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.

Purgatory Canto 30

Canto XXX

Argument

Beatrice descends from Heaven, and rebukes the Poet.

Soon as that polar light,[1] fair ornament Of the first Heaven, which hath never known Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil Of other cloud than sin, to duty there Each one convoying, as that lower doth The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix'd; Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van Between the Gryphon and its radiance came, Did turn them to the car, as to their rest: And one, as if commission'd from above, In holy chant thrice shouted forth aloud; "Come,[2] spouse! from Libanus:" and all the rest Took up the song. - At the last audit, so The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each Uplifting lightly his new - vested flesh; As, on the sacred litter, at the voice Authoritative of that elder, sprang A hundred ministers and messengers Of life eternal. "Blessed[3] thou, who comest!" And, "Oh!" they cried, "from full hands scatter ye Unwithering lilies": and, so saying, cast Flowers overhead and round them on all sides.

[1: The seven candlesticks of gold, which he calls the polar light of Heaven itself, because they perform the same office for Christians that the polar star does for mariners, in guiding them to their port.]

[2: "Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me, from Lebanon." - Song of Solomon, iv. 8.]

[3: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." - Matt. xxi. 9.]

I have beheld, ere now, at break of day, The eastern clime all roseate; and the sky Opposed, one deep and beautiful serene; And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists Attemper'd, at his rising, that the eye Long while endured the sight: thus, in a cloud Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose, And down within and outside of the car Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreathed, A virgin in my view appear'd, beneath

Green mantle, robed in hue of living flame: And o'er my spirit, that so long a time Had from her presence felt no shuddering dread, Albeit mine eyes discern'd her not, there moved A hidden virtue from her, at whose touch The power of ancient love was strong within me.

No sooner on my vision streaming, smote The heavenly influence, which, years past, and e'en In childhood, thrill'd me, than towards Virgil I Turn'd me to leftward; panting, like a babe, That flees for refuge to his mother's breast, If aught have terrified or work'd him woe: And would have cried, "There is no dram of blood, That doth not quiver in me. The old flame Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire." But Virgil had bereaved us of himself; Virgil, my best - loved father, Virgil, he To whom I gave me up for safety: nor All, our prime mother lost, avail'd to save My undew'd cheeks from blur of soiling tears.

"Dante! weep not that Virgil leaves thee; nay, Weep thou not yet: behoves thee feel the edge Of other sword; and thou shalt weep for that."

As to the prow or stern, some admiral Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew, When 'mid the sail - yards all hands ply aloof; Thus, on the left side of the car, I saw (Turning me at the sound of mine own name, Which here I am compell'd to register) The virgin station'd, who before appear'd Veil'd in that festive shower angelical.

Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes; Though from her brow the veil descending, bound With foliage of Minerva, suffer'd not That I beheld her clearly: then with act Full royal, still insulting o'er her thrall, Added, as one who, speaking, keepeth back The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech: "Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign'd at last Approach the mountain? Knewest not, O man! Thy happiness is here?" Down fell mine eyes On the clear fount; but there, myself espying, Recoil'd, and sought the greensward; such a weight Of shame was on my forehead. With a mien Of that stern majesty, which doth surround A mother's presence to her awe - struck child, She look'd; a flavor of such bitterness Was mingled in her pity. There her words Brake off; and suddenly the angels sang, "In thee, O gracious Lord! my hope hath been": But[4] went no further than, "Thou, Lord! hast set My feet in ample room" As snow, that lies, Amidst the living rafters on the back Of Italy, congeal'd, when drifted high And closely piled by rough Sclavonian blasts; Breathe but the land whereon no shadow falls, And straightway melting it distills away, Like a fire - wasted taper: thus was I, Without a sigh or tear, or everithese Did sing, that, with the chiming of Heaven's sphere, Still in their warbling chime: but when the strain Of dulcet symphony express'd for me Their soft compassion, more than could the words, "Virgin! why so consumest him?" then, the ice Congeal'd about my bosom, turn'd itself To spirit and water; and with anguish forth Gush'd, through the lips and eyelids, from the heart.

[4: "But." They sang the thirty - first Psalm, to the end of the eighth verse. What follows would not have suited the place or the occasion.]

Upon the chariot's same edge still she stood, Immovable; and thus address'd her words To those bright semblances with pity touch'd: "Ye in the eternal day your vigils keep; So that nor night nor slumber, with close stealth, Conveys from you a single step, in all The goings on of time: thence, with more heed I shape mine answer, for his ear intended, Who there stands weeping; that the sorrow now May equal the transgression. Not alone

Through operation of the mighty orbs, That mark each seed to some predestined aim, As with aspect or fortunate or ill The constellations meet; but through benign Largess of heavenly graces, which rain down From such a height as mocks our vision, this man Was, in the freshness of his being, such, So gifted virtually, that in him All better habits wondrously had thrived The more of kindly strength is in the soil, So much doth evil seed and lack of culture Mar it the more, and make it run to wildness. These looks sometime upheld him; for I show'd My youthful eyes, and led him by their light In upright walking. Soon as I had reach'd Tee threshold of my second age, and changed My mortal for immortal; then he left me, And gave himself to others. When from flesh To spirit I had risen, and increase Of beauty and of virtue circled me, I was less dear to him, and valued less. His steps were turn'd into deceitful ways, Following false images of good, that make No promise perfect. Nor avail'd me aught To sue for inspirations, with the which, I, both in dreams of night, and otherwise, Did call him back; of them, so little reck'd him. Such depth he fell, that all device was short Of his preserving, save that he should view The children of perdition. To this end I visited the purlieus of the dead: And one, who hath conducted him thus high, Received my supplications urged with weeping. It were a breaking of God's high decree, If Lethe should be pass'd, and such food[5] tasted, Without the cost of some repentant tear."

[5: The oblivion of sins.]

Purgatory Canto 31

Canto XXXI

Argument

Beatrice continues her reprehension of Dante, who confesses his error, and falls to the ground; coming to himself again, he is by Matilda drawn through the waters of Lethe, and presented first to the four virgins who figure the cardinal virtues; these in their turn lead him to the Gryphon, a symbol of our Saviour; and the three virgins, representing the evangelical virtues, intercede for him with Beatrice, that she would display to him her second beauty.

"O Thou!" her words she thus without delay Resuming, turn'd their point on me, to whom They, with but lateral edge,[1] seem'd harsh before: "Say thou, who stand'st beyond the holy stream, If this be true. A charge, so grievous, needs Thine own avowal." On my faculty Such strange amazement hung, the voice expired Imperfect, ere its organs gave it birth.

[1: "With but lateral edge." The words of Beatrice, when not addressed directly to himself, but spoken of him to the Angel, Dante had thought sufficiently harsh.]

A little space refraining, then she spake: "What dost thou muse on? Answer me. The wave On thy remembrances of evil yet Hath done no injury." A mingled sense Of fear and of confusion, from my lips Did such a "Yea" produce, as needed help Of vision to interpret. As when breaks, In act to be discharged, a cross - bow bent Beyond its pitch, both nerve and bow o'erstretch'd; The flagging weapon feebly hits the mark: Thus, tears and sighs forth gushing, did I burst, Beneath the heavy load: and thus my voice Was slacken'd on its way. She straight began: "When my desire invited thee to love The good, which sets a bound to our aspirings; What bar of thwarting foss or linked chain Did meet thee, that thou so shouldst quit the hope Of further progress? or what bait of ease, Or promise of allurement, led thee on Elsewhere, that thou elsewhere shouldst rather wait?"

A bitter sigh I drew, then scarce found voice To answer; hardly to these sounds my lips

Gave utterance, wailing: "Thy fair looks withdrawn, Things present, with deceitful pleasures, turn'd My steps aside." She answering spake: "Hadst thou Been silent, or denied what thou avow'st, Thou hadst not hid thy sin the more; such eye Observes it. But whene'er the sinner's cheek Breaks forth into the precious - streaming tears Of self - accusing, in our court the wheel Of justice doth run counter to the edge.[2] Howe'er, that thou mayst profit by thy shame For errors past, and that henceforth more strength May arm thee, when thou hear'st the Syren - voice; Lay thou aside the motive to this grief, And lend attentive ear, while I unfold How opposite a way my buried flesh Should have impell'd thee. Never didst thou spy, In art or nature, aught so passing sweet, As were the limbs that in their beauteous frame Enclosed me, and are scatter'd now in dust. If sweetest thing thus fail'd thee with my death, What, afterward, of moral, should thy wish Have tempted? When thou first hadst felt the dart Of perishable things, in my departing For better realms, thy wing thou shouldst have pruned To follow me; and never stoop'd again, To 'bide a second blow, for a slight girl,[3] Or other gaud as transient and as vain. The new and inexperienced bird[4] awaits, Twice it may be, or thrice, the fowler's aim; But in the sight of one whose plumes are full, In vain the net is spread, the arrow wing'd."

[2: "The weapons of divine justice are blunted by the confession and sorrow of the offender."]

[3: "For a slight girl." Daniello and Venturi say that this alludes to Gentucca of Lucca, mentioned in the twenty - fourth Canto.]

[4: "Bird." "Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird." - Prov. i. 17.]

I stood, as children silent and ashamed Stand, listening, with their eyes upon the earth, Acknowledging their fault, and self - condemn'd. And she resumed: "If, but to hear, thus pains thee, Raise thou thy beard, and lo! what sight shall do."

With less reluctance yields a sturdy holm, Rent from its fibres by a blast, that blows From off the pole, or from Iarbas' land,[5] Than I at her behest my visage raised: And thus the face denoting by the beard, I mark'd the secret sting her words convey'd.

[5: "From Iarbas' land." The south.]

No sooner lifted I mine aspect up, Than I perceived those primal creatures cease Their flowery sprinkling; and mine eyes beheld (Yet unassured and wavering in their view) Beatrice; she, who toward the mystic shape, That joins two natures in one form, had turn'd: And, even under shadow of her veil, And parted by the verdant rill that flow'd Between, in loveliness she seem'd as much Her former self surpassing, as on earth All others she surpass'd. Remorseful goads Shot sudden through me. Each thing else, the more Its love had late beguiled me, now the more Was loathsome. On my heart so keenly smote The bitter consciousness, that on the ground O'erpower'd I fell: and what my state was then, She knows, who was the cause. When now my strength Flow'd back, returning outward from the heart, The lady,[6] whom alone I first had seen, I found above me. "Loose me not," she cried: "Loose not thy hold:" and lo! had dragg'd me high As to my neck into the stream; while she, Still as she drew me after, swept along, Swift as a shuttle, bounding o'er the wave.

[6: "The lady." Matilda.]

The blessed shore approaching, then was heard So sweetly, "Tu asperges me," that I May not remember, much less tell the sound.

The beauteous dame, her arms expanding, clasp'd My temples, and immerged me where 'twas fit The wave should drench me: and, thence raising up, Within the fourfold dance of lovely nymphs Presented me so laved; and with their arm They each did cover me. "Here are we nymphs,

And in the heaven are stars. Or ever earth Was visited of Beatrice, we, Appointed for her handmaids, tended on her. We to her eyes will lead thee: but the light Of gladness, that is in them, well to scan, Those yonder three, of deeper ken than ours, Thy sight shall quicken." Thus began their song: And then they led me to the Gryphon's breast, Where, turn'd toward us, Beatrice stood. "Spare not thy vision. We have station'd thee Before the emeralds, whence love, erewhile, Hath drawn his weapons on thee." As they spake, A thousand fervent wishes riveted Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood, Still fix'd toward the Gryphon, motionless. As the sun strikes a mirror, even thus Within those orbs the twofold being shone; Forever varying, in one figure now Reflected, now in other. Reader! muse How wondrous in my sight it seem'd, to mark A thing, albeit steadfast in itself, Yet in its imaged semblance mutable.

Full of amaze, and joyous, while my soul Fed on the viand, whereof still desire Grows with satiety; the other three, With gesture that declared a loftier line, Advanced: to their own carol, on they came Dancing, in festive ring angelical.

"Turn, Beatrice!" was their song: "Oh! turn Thy saintly sight on this thy faithful one, Who, to behold thee, many a wearisome pace Hath measured. Gracious at our prayer, vouchsafe Unveiled to him thy cheeks; that he may mark Thy second beauty, now conceal'd." O splendour! O sacred light eternal! who is he, So pale with musing in Pierian shades, Or with that fount so lavishly imbued, Whose spirit should not fail him in the essay To represent thee such as thou didst seem, When under cope of the still - chiming Heaven Thou gavest to open air thy charms reveal'd?

Purgatory Canto 32

Canto XXXII

Argument

Dante is warned not to gaze too fixedly on Beatrice. The procession moves on, accompanied by Matilda, Statius, and Dante, till they reach an exceeding lofty tree, where divers strange chances befall.

Mine eyes with such an eager coveting Were bent to rid them of their ten years' thirst,[1] Not other sense was waking: and e'en they Were fenced on either side from heed of aught; So tangled, in its custom'd toils, that smile Of saintly brightness drew me to itself: When forcibly, toward the left, my sight The sacred virgins turn'd; for from their lips I heard the warning sounds: "Too fix'd a gaze!"

[1: "Their ten years' thirst." Beatrice had been dead ten years.]

A while my vision labour'd; as when late Upon the o'erstrained eyes the sun hath smote: But soon, to lesser object, as the view Was now recover'd, (lesser in respect To that excess of sensible, whence late I had perforce been sunder'd), on their right I mark'd that glorious army wheel, and turn, Against the sun and sevenfold lights, their front. As when, their bucklers for protection raised, A well - ranged troop, with portly banners curl'd, Wheel circling, ere the whole can change their ground; E'en thus the goodly regiment of Heaven Proceeding, all did pass us, ere the car Had sloped his beam. Attendant at the wheels The damsels turn'd; and on the Gryphon moved The sacred burden, with a pace so smooth, No feather on him trembled. The fair dame, Who through the wave had drawn me, companied By Statius and myself, pursued the wheel, Whose orbit, rolling, mark'd a lesser arch.

Through the high wood, now void, (the more her blame, Who by the serpent was beguiled), I pass'd, With step in cadence to the harmony Angelic. Onward had we moved, as far, Perchance, as arrow at three several flights Full wing'd had sped, when from her station down Descended Beatrice. With one voice All murmur'd "Adam"; circling next a plant Despoil'd of flowers and leaf, on every bough, Its tresses, spreading more as more they rose, Were such, as 'midst their forest wilds, for height, The Indians might have gazed at. "Blessed thou, Gryphon![2] whose beak hath never pluck'd that tree Pleasant to taste: for hence the appetite Was warp'd to evil." Round the stately trunk Thus shouted forth the rest, to whom return'd The animal twice - gender'd: "Yea! for so The generation of the just are saved." And turning to the chariot - pole, to foot He drew it of the widow'd branch, and bound There, left unto the stock whereon it grew.

[2: "Gryphon." Our Saviour's submission to the Roman Empire appears to be intended, and particularly his injunction to "render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's."]

As when large floods of radiance from above Stream, with that radiance mingled, which ascends Next after setting of the scaly sign, Our plants then burgeon, and each wears anew His wonted colours, ere the sun have yoked Beneath another star his flamy steeds; Thus putting forth a hue more faint than rose, And deeper than the violet, was renew'd The plant, erewhile in all its branches bare. Unearthly was the hymn, which then arose. I understood it not, nor to the end Endured the harmony. Had I the skill To pencil forth how closed the unpitying eyes Slumbering, when Syrinx warbled, (eyes that paid So dearly for their watching), then, like painter, That with a model paints, I might design

The manner of my falling into sleep. But feign who will the slumber cunningly, I pass it by to when I waked; and tell, How suddenly a flash of splendour rent The curtain of my sleep, and one cries out, "Arise; what dost thou?" As the chosen three, On Tabor's mount, admitted to behold The blossoming of that fair tree,[3] whose fruit Is coveted of Angels, and doth make Perpetual feast in Heaven; to themselves Returning, at the word whence deeper sleeps[4] Were broken, they their tribe diminish'd saw; Both Moses and Elias gone, and changed The stole their Master wore; thus to myself Returning, over me beheld I stand The piteous one,[5] who, cross the stream, had brought My steps. "And where," all doubting, I exclaim'd, "Is Beatrice?" - "See her," she replied, "Beneath the fresh leaf, seated on its root. Behold the associate choir that circles her. The others, with a melody more sweet And more profound, journeying to higher realms, Upon the Gryphon tend." If there her words Were closed, I know not; but mine eyes had now Ta'en view of her, by whom all other thoughts Were barr'd admittance. On the very ground Alone she sat, as she had there been left A guard upon the wain, which I beheld Bound to the twoform beast. The seven nymphs Did make themselves a cloister round about her; And, in their hands, upheld those lights[6] secure From blast septentrion and the gusty south.

[3: "The blossoming of that fair tree." Our Saviour's transfiguration. "As the apple - tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." - Solomon's Song, ii. 3.]

[4: "Deeper sleeps." The sleep of death, in the instance of the ruler of the synagogue's daughter and of Lazarus."]

[5: "The piteous one." Matilda.]

[6: "Those lights." The tapers of gold.]

"A little while thou shalt be forester here; And citizen shalt be, forever with me, Of that true Rome,[7] wherein Christ dwells a Roman,

[7: "Of that true Rome." Of Heaven.]

To profit the misguided world, keep now Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest, Take heed thou write, returning to that place."[8]

[8: "To that place." To the earth.]

Thus Beatrice: at whose feet inclined Devout, at her behest, my thought and eyes I, as she bade, directed. Never fire, With so swift motion, forth a stormy cloud Leap'd downward from the welkin's farthest bound, As I beheld the bird of Jove,[9] descen Down through the tree; and, as he rush'd, the rind Disparting crush beneath him; buds much more, And leaflets. On the car, with all his might He struck; whence, staggering, like a ship it reel'd, At random driven, to starboard now, o'ercome, And now to larboard, by the vaulting waves.

[9: "The bird of Jove." This, which is imitated from Ezekiel, xvii. 3, 4, is typical of the persecutions which the Church sustained from the Roman emperors.]

Next, springing up into the chariot's womb, A fox[10] I saw, with hunger seeming pined Of all good food. But, for his ugly sins The saintly maid rebuking him, away Scampering he turn'd, fast as his hide - bound corpse Would bear him. Next, from whence before he came, I saw the eagle dart into the hull O' the car, and leave it with his feathers lined:[11] And then a voice, like that which issues forth From heart with sorrow rived, did issue forth From Heaven, and "O poor bark of mine!" it cried, "How badly art thou freighted." Then it seem'd That the earth open'd, between either wheel; And I beheld a dragon[12] issue thence, That through the chariot fix'd his forked train; And like a wasp, that draggeth back the sting, So drawing forth his baleful train, he dragg'd Part of the bottom forth; and went his way, Exulting. What remain'd, as lively turf

[10: "A fox." By the fox probably is represented the treachery of the heretics.]

[11: "With his feathers lined." In allusion to the donations made by Constantine to the Church.]

[12: "A dragon." Probably Mohammed; for what Lombardi offers to the contrary is far from satisfactory.]

With green herb, so did clothe itself with plumes,[13] Which haply had, with purpose chaste and kind, Been offer'd; and therewith were clothed the wheels, Both one and other, and the beam, so quickly, A sigh were not breathed sooner. Thus transform'd, The holy structure, through its several parts, Did put forth heads;[14] three on the beam, and one On every side: the first like oxen horn'd; But with a single horn upon their front, The four. Like monster, sight hath never seen. O'er it[15] methought there sat, secure as rock On mountain's lofty top, a shameless whore, Whose ken roved loosely round her. At her side, As 't were that none might bear her off, I saw A giant stand; and ever and anon They mingled kisses. But, her lustful eyes Chancing on me to wander, that fell minion Scourged her from head to foot all o'er; then full Of jealousy, and fierce with rage, unloosed The monster, and dragg'd on,[16] so far across The forest, that from me its shades alone Shielded the harlot and the new - form'd brute.

[13: "With plumes." The increase of wealth and temporal dominion, which followed the supposed gift of Constantine.]

[14: "Heads." By the seven heads, it is supposed with sufficient probability, are meant the seven capital sins: by the three with two horns, pride, anger, and avarice, injurious both to man himself and to his neighbor: by the four with one horn, gluttony, gloominess, concupiscence, and envy, hurtful, at least in their primary effects, chiefly to him who is guilty of them.]

[15: "O'er it." The harlot is thought to represent the state of the Church under Boniface VIII, and the giant to figure Philip IV of France.]

[16: "Dragg'd on." The removal of the Pope's residence from Rome to Avignon is pointed at.]

Purgatory Canto 33

Canto XXXIII

Argument

After a hymn sung, Beatrice leaves the tree, and takes with her the seven virgins, Matilda, Statius, and Dante. She then darkly predicts to our Poet some future events. Lastly, the whole band arrive at the fountain, from whence the two streams, Lethe and Eunoe, separating, flow different ways; and Matilda, at the desire of Beatrice, causes our Poet to drink of the latter stream.

"The heathen,[1] Lord! are come:" responsive thus, The trinal now, and now the virgin band Quaternion, their sweet psalmody began, Weeping; and Beatrice listen'd, sad And sighing, to the song, in such a mood, That Mary, as she stood beside the Cross, Was scarce more changed. But when they gave her place To speak, then, risen upright on her feet, She, with a colour glowing bright as fire, Did answer: "Yet a little while,[2] and ye Shall see me not; and, my beloved sisters! Again a little while, and ye shall see me."

[1: "The heathen." "O God, the heathen are come into thine inheritance." - Psalm lxxix. 1.]

[2: "Yet a little while." "A little while, and ye shall not see me; and again a little while, and ye shall see me." - John xvi. 16.]

Before her then she marshal'd all the seven; And, beckoning only, motion'd me, the dame, And that remaining sage,[3] to follow her.

[3: "That remaining sage." Statius.]

So on she pass'd; and had not set, I ween, Her tenth step to the ground, when, with mine eyes Her eyes encountered; and, with visage mild, "So mend thy pace," she cried, "that if my words Address thee, thou mayst still be aptly placed To hear them." Soon as duly to her side I now had hasten'd: "Brother!" she began, "Why makest thou no attempt at questioning, As thus we walk together?" Like to those Who, speaking with too reverent an awe Before their betters, draw not forth the voice Alive unto their lips, befell me then That I in sounds imperfect thus began: "Lady! what I have need of, that thou know'st; And what will suit my need." She answering thus:

"Of fearfulness and shame, I will that thou Henceforth do rid thee; that thou speak no more, As one who dreams. Thus far be taught of me: The vessel which thou saw'st the serpent break, Was, and is not:[4] let him, who hath the blame, Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop.[5] Without an heir forever shall not be That eagle,[6] he, who left the chariot plumed, Which monster made it first and next a prey. Plainly I view, and therefore speak, the stars E'en now approaching, whose conjunction, free From all impediment and bar, brings on A season, in the which, one sent from God, (Five hundred, five, and ten, do mark him out,) That foul one, and the accomplice of her guilt, The giant, both, shall slay. And if perchance My saying, dark as Themis or as Sphinx, Fail to persuade thee, (since like them it foils The intellect with blindness), yet ere long Events shall be the Naiads, that will solve This knotty riddle; and no damage light On flock or field. Take heed; and as these words By me are utter'd, teach them even so To those who live that life, which is a race To death: and when thou writest them, keep in mind Not to conceal how thou hast seen the plant, That twice[7] hath now been spoil'd. This whoso robs, This whoso plucks, with blasphemy of deed Sins against God, who for His use alone Creating hallow'd it. For taste of this,

[4: "Was, and is not." "The beast that was, and is not." - Rev. xvii. 11.]

[5: "Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop." "Let not him who hath occasioned the destruction of the Church, that vessel which the serpent brake, hope to appease the anger of the Deity by any outward acts of religious, or rather superstitious, ceremony; such as was that, in our Poet's time, performed by a murderer at Florence, who imagined himself secure from vengeance, if he ate a sop of bread in wine upon the grave of the person murdered, within the space of nine days."]

[6: "That eagle." He prognosticates that the Emperor of Germany will not always continue to submit to the usurpations of the Pope, and foretells the coming of Henry VII, Duke of Luxemburg, signified by the numerical figures DVX; or, as Lombardi supposes, of Can Grande della Scala, appointed the leader of the Ghibelline forces.]

[7: "Twice." First by the eagle and next by the giant.]

In pain and in desire, five thousand years And upward, the first soul did yearn for him Who punish'd in himself the fatal gust.

"Thy reason slumbers, if it deem this height, And summit thus inverted, of the plant, Without due cause: and were not vainer thoughts, As Elsa's numbing waters,[8] to thy soul, And their fond pleasures had not dyed it dark As Pyramus the mulberry; thou hadst seen, In such momentous circumstance alone, God's equal justice morally implied In the forbidden tree. But since I mark thee, In understanding, harden'd into stone, And, to that hardness, spotted too and stain'd, So that thine eye is dazzled at my word; I will, that, if not written, yet at least Painted thou take it in thee, for the cause, That one brings home his staff inwreathed with palm."

[8: "Elsa's numbing waters." The Elsa, a little stream, which flows into the Arno about twenty miles below Florence, is said to possess a petrifying quality.]

I thus: "As wax by seal, that changeth not Its impress, now is stamp'd my brain by thee. But wherefore soars thy wish'd - for speech so high Beyond my sight, that loses it the more, The more it strains to reach it?" - "To the end That thou mayst know," she answer'd straight, "the school, That thou hast follow'd; and how far behind, When following my discourse, its learning halts: And mayst behold your art, from the divine As distant, as the disagreement is 'Twixt earth and Heaven's most high and rapturous orb."

"I not remember," I replied, "that e'er I was estranged from thee; nor for such fault Doth conscience chide me." Smiling she return'd: "If thou canst not remember, call to mind How lately thou hast drunk of Lethe's wave; And, sure as smoke doth indicate a flame, In that forgetfulness itself conclude Blame from thy alienated will incurr'd.

From henceforth, verily, my words shall be As naked, as will suit them to appear In thy unpractised view." More sparkling now, And with retarded course, the sun possess'd The circle of mid - day, that varies still As the aspect varies of each several clime; When, as one, sent in vaward of a troop For escort, pauses, if perchance he spy Vestige of somewhat strange and rare; so paused The sevenfold band, arriving at the verge Of a dun umbrage hoar, such as is seen, Beneath green leaves and gloomy branches, oft To overbrow a bleak and alpine cliff. And, where they stood, before them, as it seem'd, I, Tigris and Euphrates both, beheld Forth from one fountain issue; and, like friends, Linger at parting. "O enlightening beam! O glory of our kind! beseech thee say What water this, which, from one source derived, Itself removes to distance from itself?"

To such entreaty answer thus was made: "Entreat Matilda, that she teach thee this."

And here, as one who clears himself of blame Imputed, the fair dame return'd: "Of me He this and more hath learnt; and I am safe That Lethe's water hath not hid it from him."

And Beatrice: "Some more pressing care, That oft the memory 'reaves, perchance hath made His mind's eye dark. But lo, where Eunoe flows! Lead thither; and, as thou art wont, revive His fainting virtue." As a courteous spirit, That proffers no excuses, but as soon As he hath token of another's will, Makes it his own; when she had ta'en me, thus The lovely maiden moved her on, and call'd To Statius, with an air most lady - like: "Come thou with him." Were further space allow'd, Then, Reader! might I sing, though but in part, That beverage, with whose sweetness I had ne'er Been sated. But, since all the leaves are full, Appointed for this second strain, mine art With warning bridle checks me. I return'd From the most holy wave, regenerate, E'en as new plants renew'd with foliage new, Pure and made apt for mounting to the stars.

Paradise Canto 1

Canto I

Argument

The Poet ascends with Beatrice toward the first heaven; and is, by her, resolved of certain doubts which arise in his mind.

His glory, by whose might all things are moved, Pierces the universe, and in one part Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In That largeliest of His light partakes, was I, [Heaven Witness of things, which, to relate again, Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence; For that, so near approaching its desire, Out intellect is to such depth absorb'd, That memory cannot follow. Nathless all, That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm Could store, shall now be matter of my song.

Benign Apollo! this last labour aid; And make me such a vessel of thy worth, As thy own laurel claims, of me beloved. Thus far[1] hath one of steep Parnassus' brows Sufficed me; henceforth, there is need of both For my remaining enterprise. Do thou[2] Enter into my bosom, and there breathe So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg'd Forth from his limbs, unsheathed. O power divine! If thou to me of thine impart so much, That of that happy realm the shadow'd form Traced in my thoughts I may set forth to view; Thou shalt behold me of thy favour'd tree Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves: For to that honour thou, and my high theme

[1: "Thus far." He appears to mean nothing more than that this part of his poem will require a greater exertion of his powers than the former.]

[2: "Do thou." Make me thine instrument; and, through me, utter such sound as when thou didst contend with Marsyas.]

Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire! To grace his triumph, gathers thence a wreath Caesar, or bard, (more shame for human wills Depraved), joy to the Delphic god must spring From the Peneian foliage, when one breast Is with such thirst inspired. From a small spark Great flame hath risen: after me, perchance, Others with better voice may pray, and gain, From the Cyrrhaean city, answer kind.

Through divers passages, the world's bright lamp Rises to mortals; but through that[3] which joins Four circles with the threefold cross, in best Course, and in happiest constellation[4] set, He comes; and, to the worldly wax, best gives Its temper and impression. Morning there,[5] Here eve was well - nigh by such passage made; And whiteness had o'erspread that hemisphere, Blackness the other part; when to the left[6] I saw Beatrice turn'd, and on the sun Gazing, as never eagle fix'd his ken. As from the first a second beam is wont To issue, and reflected upward rise, Even as a pilgrim bent on his return; So of her act, that through the eyesight pass'd Into my fancy, mine was form'd: and straight, Beyond our mortal wont, I fix'd mine eyes Upon the sun. Much is allow'd us there, That here exceeds our power; thanks to the place Made for the dwelling of the human kind.

[3: "Where the four circles, the horizon, the zodiac, the equator, and the equinoctial colure join; the last three intersecting each other so as to form three crosses, as may be seen in the armillary sphere."]

[4: Aries. Some understand the planet Venus by the "migliore stella."]

[5: "Morning there." It was morning where he then was, and about eventide on the earth.]

[6: "To the left." Being in the opposite hemisphere to ours, Beatrice, that she may behold the rising sun, turns herself to the left.]

I suffer'd it not long; and yet so long, That I beheld it bickering sparks around, As iron that comes boiling from the fire. And suddenly upon the day appear'd A day new - risen; as he, who hath the power,

Had with another sun bedeck'd the sky.

Her eyes fast fix'd on the eternal wheels, Beatrice stood unmoved; and I with ken Fix'd upon her, from upward gaze removed, At her aspect, such inwardly became As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb That made him peer among the ocean gods: Words may not tell of that trans - human change; And therefore let the example serve, though weak, For those whom grace hath better proof in store.

If I were only what thou didst create, Then newly, Love! by whom the Heaven is ruled; Thou know'st, who by Thy light didst bear me up. Whenas the wheel which Thou dost ever guide, Desired Spirit! with its harmony, Temper'd of Thee and measured, charm'd mine ear, Then seem'd to me so much of Heaven to blaze With the sun's flame, that rain or flood ne'er made A lake so broad. The newness of the sound, And that great light, inflamed me with desire, Keener than e'er was felt, to know their cause.

Whence she, who saw me, clearly as myself, To calm my troubled mind, before I ask'd, Open'd her lips, and gracious thus began: "With false imagination thou thyself Makest dull; so that thou seest not the thing, Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off. Thou art not on the earth as thou believest; For lightning, scaped from its own proper place, Ne'er ran, as thou has hither now return'd."

Although divested of my first - raised doubt By those brief words accompanied with smiles, Yet in new doubt was I entangled more, And said: "Already satisfied, I rest From admiration deep; but now admire How I above those lighter bodies rise."

Whence, after utterance of a piteous sigh, She toward me bent her eyes, with such a look, As on her frenzied child a mother casts; Then thus began: "Among themselves all things Have order; and from hence the form,[7] which makes The universe resemble God. In this The higher creatures see the printed steps Of that eternal worth, which is the end Whither the line is drawn.[8] All natures lean, In this their order, diversely; some more, Some less approaching to their primal source. Thus they to different havens are moved on Through the vast sea of being, and each one With instinct given, that bears it in its course: This to the lunar sphere directs the fire; This moves the hearts of mortal animals; This the brute earth together knits, and binds. Nor only creatures, void of intellect, Are aim'd at by this bow; but even those, That have intelligence and love, are pierced. That Providence, who so well orders all, With her own light makes ever calm the Heaven,[9] In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,[10] Is turn'd: and thither now, as to our seat Predestined, we are carried by the force Of that strong cord, that never looses dart But at fair aim and glad. Yet is it true, That as, oft - times, but ill accords the form To the design of art, through sluggishness Or unreplying matter; so this course Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere; As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall, From its original impulse warp'd, to earth, By vitious fondness. Thou no more admire Thy soaring (if I rightly deem) that lapse Of torrent downward from a mountain's height. There would in thee for wonder be more cause, If, free of hindrance, thou hadst stay'd below,

[7: This order it is, that gives to the universe the form of unity, and therefore resemblance to God.]

[8: All things, as they have their beginning from the Supreme Being, so are they referred to Him gain.]

[9: "The Heaven." The empyrean, which is always motionless.]

[10: "The substance, etc." The primum mobile.]

As living fire unmoved upon the earth."

So said, she turn'd toward the Heaven her face.

Paradise Canto 2

Canto II

Argument

Dante and his celestial guide enter the moon. The cause of the spots or shadows, which appear in that body, is explained to him.

All ye, who in small bark have following sail'd, Eager to listen, on the adventurous track Of my proud keel, that singing cuts her way, Backward return with speed, and your own shores Revisit; nor put out to open sea, Where losing me, perchance ye may remain Bewilder'd in deep maze. The way I pass, Ne'er yet was run: Minerva breathes the gale; Apollo guides me; and another Nine, To my rapt sight, the arctic beams reveal. Ye other few who have outstretch'd the neck Timely for food of angels, on which here They live, yet never know satiety; Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out Your vessel; marking well the furrow broad Before you in the wave, that on both sides Equal returns. Those, glorious, who pass'd o'er To Colchis, wonder'd not as ye will do, When they saw Jason following the plough.

The increate perpetual thirst, that draws Toward the realm of God's own form, bore us Swift almost as the Heaven ye behold.

Beatrice upward gazed, and I on her; And in such space as on the notch a dart Is placed, then loosen'd flies, I saw myself Arrived, where wonderous thing engaged my sight. Whence she, to whom no care of mine was hid, Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair, Bespake me: "Gratefully direct thy mind To God, through whom to this first star[1] we come."

[1: "This first star." The moon.]

Meseem'd as if a cloud had cover'd us,

Translucent, solid, firm, and polish'd bright, Like adamant, which the sun's beam had smit. Within itself the ever - during pearl Received us; as the wave a ray of light Receives, and rests unbroken. If I then Was of corporeal frame, and it transcend Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus Another could endure, which needs must be If body enter body; how much more Must the desire inflame us to behold That Essence, which discovers by what means God and our nature join'd! There will be seen That, which we hold through faith; not shown by proof, But in itself intelligibly plain, E'en as the truth that man at first believes.

I answer'd: "Lady! I with thoughts devout, Such as I best can frame, give thanks to Him, Who hath removed me from the mortal world. But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots Upon this body, which below on earth Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?"

She somewhat smiled, then spake: "If mortals err In their opinion, when the key of sense Unlocks not, surely wonder's weapon keen Ought not to pierce thee: since thou find'st, the wings Of reason to pursue the senses' flight Are short. But what thy own thought is, declare."

Then I: "What various here above appears, Is caused, I deem, by bodies dense or rare."

She then resumed: "Thou certainly wilt see In falsehood thy belief o'erwhelm'd, if well Thou listen to the arguments which I Shall bring to face it. The eighth sphere displays Numberless lights, the which, in kind and size, May be remark'd of different aspects: If rare or dense of that were cause alone, One single virtue then would be in all; Alike distributed, or more, or less. Different virtues needs must be the fruits Of formal principles; and these, save one, Will by thy reasoning be destroy'd. Beside, If rarity were of that dusk the cause, Which thou inquirest, either in some part That planet must throughout be void, nor fed With its own matter; or, as bodies share Their fat and leanness, in like manner this Must in its volume change the leaves.[2] The first, If it were true, had through the sun's eclipse Been manifested, by transparency Of light, as through aught rare beside effused. But this is not. Therefore remains to see The other cause: and, if the other fall, Erroneous so must prove what seem'd to thee. If not from side to side this rarity Pass through, there needs must be a limit, whence Its contrary no further lets it pass. And hence the beam, that from without proceeds, Must be pour'd back; as colour comes, through glass Reflected, which behind it lead conceals. Now wilt thou say, that there of murkier hue, Than, in the other part, the ray is shown, By being thence refracted farther back. From this perplexity will free thee soon Experience, if thereof thou trial make, The mountain whence your arts derive their streams. Three mirrors shalt thou take, and two remove From thee alike; and more remote the third, Betwixt the former pair, shall meet thine eyes: Then turn'd toward them, cause behind thy back A light to stand, that on the three shall shine, And thus reflected come to thee from all. Though that, beheld most distant, do not stretch A space so ample, yet in brightness thou Wilt own it equaling the rest. But now, As under snow the ground, if the warm ray Smites it, remains dismantled of the hue And cold, that cover'd it before; so thee, Dismantled in thy mind, I will inform

[2: "Change the leaves." Would, like leaves of parchment, be darker in some parts than in others.]

With light so lively, that the tremulous beam Shall quiver where it falls. Within the heaven,[3] Where peace divine inhabits, circles round A body, in whose virtue lies the being Of all that it contains. The following Heaven, That hath so many lights, this being divides, Through different essences, from it distinct, And yet contain'd within it. The other orbs Their separate distinctions variously Dispose, for their own seed and produce apt. Thus do these organs of the world proceed, As thou beholdest now, from step to step; Their influences from above deriving, And thence transmitting downward. Mark me well; How through this passage to the truth I ford, The truth thou lovest; that thou henceforth, alone, Mayst know to keep the shallows, safe, untold.

[3: According to our Poet's system, there are ten Heavens. The Heaven, "where peace divine inhabits," is the empyrean; the body within it, that "circles round," is the primum mobile; "the following Heaven," that of the fixed stars; and "the other orbs" the seven lower Heavens, are Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon. Thus Milton, "Paradise Lost" b. iii. 481.]

"The virtue and motion of the sacred orbs, As mallet by the workman's hand, must needs By blessed movers[4] be inspired. This Heaven,[5] Made beauteous by so many luminaries, From the deep spirit,[6] that moves its circling sphere, Its image takes and impress as a seal: And as the soul, that dwells within your dust, Through members different, yet together form'd, In different powers resolves itself; e'en so The intellectual efficacy unfolds Its goodness multiplied throughout the stars; On its own unity revolving still. Different virtue[7] compact different Makes with the precious body it enlivens, With which it knits, as life in you is knit.

[4: "By blessed movers." By Angels.]

[5: "This Heaven." The Heaven of fixed stars.]

[6: "The deep spirit." The moving Angel.]

[7: "Different virtue." "There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star differeth from another star in glory." - 1 Cor. xv. 41]

From its original nature full of joy, The virtue mingled through the body shines, As joy through pupil of the living eye. From hence proceeds that which from light to light Seems different, and not from dense or rare. This is the formal cause, that generates, Proportion'd to its power, the dusk or clear."

Paradise Canto 3

Canto III

Argument

In the moon Dante meets with Piccarda, the sister of Forese, who tells him that this planet is allotted to those, who, after having made profession of chastity and a religious life, had been compelled to violate their vows; and she then points out to him the spirit of the Empress Costanza.

That sun,[1] which erst with love my bosom warmed, Had of fair truth unveil'd the sweet aspect, By proof of right, and of the false reproof; And I, to own myself convinced and free Of doubt, as much as needed, raised my head Erect for speech. But soon a sight appear'd, Which, so intent to mark it, held me fix'd That of confession I no longer thought.

[1: "That sun." Beatrice.]

As through translucent and smooth glass, or wave Clear and unmoved, and flowing not so deep As that its bed is dark, the shape returns So faint of our impictured lineaments, That, on white forehead set, a pearl as strong Comes to the eye; such saw I many a face, All stretch'd to speak; from whence I straight conceived, Delusion[2] opposite to that, which raised, Between the man and fountain, amorous flame.

[2: "Delusion." "An error the contrary to that of Narcissus; because he mistook a shadow for a substance; I, a substance for a shadow."]

Sudden, as I perceived them, deeming these Reflected semblances, to see of whom They were, I turn'd mine eyes, and nothing saw; Then turn'd them back, directed on the light Of my sweet guide, who, smiling, shot forth beams From her celestial eyes. "Wonder not thou,"

She cried, "at this my smiling, when I see Thy childish judgment; since not yet on truth It rests the foot, but, as it still is wont, Makes thee fall back in unsound vacancy. True substances are these, which thou behold'st, Hither through failure of their vow exiled. But speak thou with them; listen, and believe, That the true light, which fills them with desire, Permits not from its beams their feet to stray."

Straight to the shadow, which for converse seem'd Most earnest, I address'd me; and began As one by over - eagerness perplex'd: "O spirit, born of joy! who in the rays Of life eternal, of that sweetness know'st The flavour, which, not tasted, passes far All apprehension; me it well would please, If thou wouldst tell me of thy name, and this Your station here." Whence she with kindness prompt And eyes glist'ring with smiles: "Our charity, To any wish by justice introduced, Bars not the door; no more than She above, Who would have all her court be like herself. I was a virgin sister in the earth; And if thy mind observe me well, this form, With such addition graced of loveliness, Will not conceal me long; but thou wilt know Piccarda,[3] in the tardiest sphere thus placed, Here 'mid these other blessed also blest. Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone With pleasure from the Holy Spirit conceived, Admitted to His order, dwell in joy. And this condition, which appears so low, Is for this cause assign'd us, that our vows Were, in some part, neglected and made void."

[3: "Piccarda." The sister of Corso Donati, and of Forese, whom we have seen in the Purgatory, Canto xxiv. Petrarch has been supposed to allude to this lady in his "Triumph of Chastity," v. 160, etc.]

Whence I to her replied: "Something divine Beams in your countenances wondrous fair; From former knowledge quite transmitting you.

Therefore to recollect was I so slow. But what thou say'st hath to my memory Given now such aid, that to retrace your forms Is easier. Yet inform me, ye, who here Are happy; long ye for a higher place, More to behold, and more in love to dwell?"

She with those other spirits gently smiled; Then answer'd with such gladness, that she seem'd With love's first flame to glow: "Brother! our will Is, in composure, settled by the power Of charity, who makes us will alone What we possess, and naught beyond desire: If we should wish to be exalted more, Then must our wishes jar with the high will Of Him, who sets us here; which in these orbs Thou wilt confess not possible, if here To be in charity must needs befall, And if her nature well thou contemplate. Rather it is inherent in this state Of blessedness, to keep ourselves within The Divine Will, by which our wills with His Are one. So that as we, from step to step, Are placed throughout this kingdom, pleases all, Even as our King, who in us plants His will; And in His will is our tranquillity: It is the mighty ocean, whither tends Whatever it creates and Nature makes."

Then saw I clearly how each spot in Heaven Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew The supreme virtue shower not over all.

But as it chances, if one sort of food Hath satiated, and of another still The appetite remains, that this is ask'd, And thanks for that return'd; e'en so did I, In word and motion, bent from her to learn What web it was,[4] through which she had not drawn The shuttle to its point. She thus began: "Exalted worth and perfectness of life

[4: "What vow of religious life it was that she had been hindered from completing, had been compelled to break."]

The Lady[5] higher up inshrine in Heaven, By whose pure laws upon your nether earth The robe and veil they wear; to that intent, That e'en till death they may keep watch, or sleep, With their great Bridegroom, who accepts each vow, Which to His gracious pleasure love conforms. I from the world, to follow her, when young Escaped; and, in her vesture mantling me, Made promise of the way her sect enjoins. Thereafter men, for ill than good more apt, Forth snatch'd me from the pleasant cloister's pale. God knows[6] how, after that, my life was framed. This other splendid shape, which thou behold'st At my right side, burning with all the light Of this our orb, what of myself I tell May to herself apply. From her, like me A sister, with like violence were torn The saintly folds, that shaded her fair brows. E'en when she to the world again was brought In spite of her own will and better wont, Yet not for that the bosom's inward veil Did she renounce. This is the luminary Of mighty Constance,[7] who from that loud blast, Which blew the second[8] over Suabia's realm, That power produced, which was the third and last."

[5: St. Clare, the foundress of the order called after her. She was born at Assisi, in 1193, and died in 1253.]

[6: Rodolfo da Tossignano, Hist. Seraph. Relig., relates the following legend of Piccarda: "Her brother Corso, inflamed with rage against his virgin sister, having joined with him Farinata, an infamous assassin, and twelve other abandoned ruffians, entered the monastery by a ladder, and carried away his sister forcibly to his own house; and then tearing off her religious habit, compelled her to go in a secular garment to her nuptials. Before the spouse of Christ came together with her new husband, she knelt down before a crucifix and recommended her virginity to Christ. Soon after her whole body was smitten with leprosy; in a few days, through the divine disposal, she passed with a palm of virginity to the Lord.]

[7: Daughter of Ruggieri, King of Sicily, who being taken by force out of a monastery was married to the Emperor Henry VI and by him was mother of Frederick II. She was fifty years old or more at the time, and "because it was not credited that she could have a child at that age, she was delivered in a pavilion, and it was given out that any lady, who pleased, was at liberty to see her."]

[8: Henry VI, son of Frederick I, was the second emperor of the house of Suabia; and his son Frederick II "the third and last."]

She ceased from further talk, and then began

"Ave Maria" singing; and with that song Vanish'd, as heavy substance through deep wave.

Mine eye, that, far as it was capable, Pursued her, when in dimness she was lost, Turn'd to the mark where greater want impell'd And bent on Beatrice all its gaze. But she, as lightning, beam'd upon my looks; So that the sight sustain'd it not at first. Whence I to question her became less prompt.

Paradise Canto 4

Canto IV

Argument

While they still continue in the moon, Beatrice removes certain doubts which Dante had conceived respecting the place assigned to the blessed, and respecting the will absolute or conditional. He inquires whether it is possible to make satisfaction for a vow broken.

Between two kinds of food, both equally Remote and tempting, first a man might die Of hunger, ere he one could freely chuse. E'en so would stand a lamb between the maw Of two fierce wolves, in dread of both alike: E'en so between two deer a dog would stand. Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise I to myself impute; by equal doubts Held in suspense; since of necessity It happen'd. Silent was I, yet desire Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake My wish more earnestly than language could.

As Daniel,[1] when the haughty king he freed From ire, that spurr'd him on to deeds unjust And violent; so did Beatrice then.

[1: "Daniel." See Dan. ii. Beatrice did for Dante what Daniel did for Nebuchadnezzar, when he freed the King from the uncertainty respecting his dream, which had enraged him against the Chaldeans. See Hell, Canto xiv.]

"Well I discern," she thus her words address'd, "How thou art drawn by each of these desires;[2] So that thy anxious thought is in itself Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth. Thou arguest: if the good intent remain; What reason that another's violence

[2: His desire to have each of the doubts, which Beatrice mentions, resolved.]

Should stint the measure of my fair desert?

"Cause too thou find'st for doubt, in that it seems, That spirits to the stars, as Plato[3] deem'd, Return. These are the questions which thy will Urge equally; and therefore I, the first, Of that[4] will treat which hath the more of gall.[5] Of Seraphim[6] he who is most enskied, Moses and Samuel, and either John Chuse which thou wilt, nor even Mary's self, Have not in any other Heaven their seats, Than have those spirits which so late thou saw'st; Nor more or fewer years exist; but all Make the first circle[7] beauteous, diversely Partaking of sweet life, as more or less Afflation of eternal bliss pervades them. Here were they shown thee, not that fate assigns This for their sphere, but for a sign to thee Of that celestial furthest from the height. Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak: Since from things sensible alone ye learn That, which, digested rightly, after turns To intellectual. For no other cause The Scripture, condescending graciously To your perception, hands and feet to God Attributes, nor so means: and holy Church Doth represent with human countenance Gabriel, and Michael, and him who made Tobias whole. Unlike what here thou seest, The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms Each soul restored to its particular star; Believing it to have been taken thence, When nature gave it to inform her mold: Yet to appearance his intention is

[3: "Plato." Plato, Timaeus, v. ix. p. 326. "The Creator, when he had framed the universe, distributed to the stars an equal number of souls, appointing to each soul its several star."]

[4: "Of that." Plato's opinion.]

[5: Which is the more dangerous.]

[6: She first resolves his doubt whether souls do not return to their own stars, as he had read in the Timaeus of Plato. Angels, then, and beatified spirits, she declares, dwell all and eternally together, only partaking more or less of the divine glory, in the empyrean; although, in condescension to human understanding, they appear to have different spheres allotted to them.]

[7: "The first circle." The empyrean.]

Not what his words declare: and so to shun Derision, haply thus he hath disguised His true opinion. If his meaning be, That to the influencing of these orbs revert The honour and the blame in human acts, Perchance he doth not wholly miss the truth. This principle, not understood aright, Erewhile perverted well - nigh all the world; So that it fell to fabled names of Jove, And Mercury, and Mars. That other doubt, Which moves thee, is less harmful; for it brings No peril of removing thee from me. "That, to the eye of man,[8] our justice seems Unjust, is argument for faith, and not For heretic declension. But, to the end This truth[9] may stand more clearly in your view, I will content thee even to thy wish.

[8: "That the ways of divine justice are often inscrutable to man, ought rather to be a motive to faith than an inducement to heresy."]

[9: "This truth." That it is no impeachment of God's justice, if merit be lessened through compulsion of others, without any failure of good intention on the part of the meritorious. After all, Beatrice ends by admitting that there was a defect in the will, which hindered Constance and the others from seizing the first opportunity of returning to the monastic life.]

"If violence be, when that which suffers, nought Consents to that which forceth, not for this These spirits stood exculpate. For the will, That wills not, still survives, unquench'd, and doth, As nature doth in fire, though violence Wrest it a thousand times; for, if it yield Or more or less, so far it follows force. And thus did these, when they had power to seek The hallow'd place again. In them, had will Been perfect, such as once upon the bars Held Laurence[10] firm, or wrought in Scaevola To his own hand remorseless; to the path, Whence they were drawn, their steps had hasten'd back, When liberty return'd: but in too few, Resolve, so stedfast, dwells. And by these words, If duly weigh'd, that argument is void, Which oft might have perplex'd thee still. But now

[10: Martyr of the third century.]

Another question thwarts thee, which, to solve, Might try thy patience without better aid. I have, no doubt, instill'd into thy mind, That blessed spirit may not lie; since near The source of primal truth it dwells for aye: And thou mightst after of Piccarda learn That Constance held affection to the veil; So that she seems to contradict me here. Not seldom, brother, it hath chanced for men To do what they had gladly left undone; Yet, to shun peril, they have done amiss: E'en as Alcmaeon, at his father's[11] suit Slew his own mother;[12] so made pitiless, Not to lose pity. On this point bethink thee, That force and will are blended in such wise As not to make the offence excusable. Absolute will agrees not to the wrong; But inasmuch as there is fear of woe From non - compliance, it agrees. Of will[13] Thus absolute, Piccarda spake, and I Of the other; so that both have truly said."

[11: "His father's." Amphiaraus.]

[12: "His own mother." Eriphyle.]

[13: "Of will." What Piccarda asserts of Constance, that she retained her affection to the monastic life, is said absolutely and without relation to circumstances; and that, which I affirm, is spoken of the will conditionally and respectively: so that "both have truly said."]

Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd From forth the fountain of all truth; and such The rest, that to my wandering thoughts I found.

"O thou, of primal love the prime delight, Goddess!" I straight replied, "whose lively words Still shed new heat and vigour through my soul; Affection fails me to requite thy grace With equal sum of gratitude: be His To recompense, who sees and can reward thee. Well I discern, that by that Truth[14] alone Enlighten'd, beyond which no truth may roam, Our mind can satisfy her thirst to know: Therein she resteth, e'en as in his lair The wild beast, soon as she hath reach'd that bound. And she hath power to reach it; else desire

[14: The light of divine truth.]

Were given to no end. And thence doth doubt Spring, like a shoot, around the stock of truth; And it is nature which, from height to height, On to the summit prompts us. This invites, This doth assure me, Lady! reverently To ask thee of another truth, that yet Is dark to me. I fain would know, if man By other works well done may so supply The failure of his vows, that in your scale They lack not weight." I spake; and on me straight Beatrice look'd, with eyes that shot forth sparks Of love celestial, in such copious stream, That, virtue sinking in me overpower'd, I turn'd; and downward bent, confused, my sight.

Paradise Canto 5

Canto V

Argument

The question proposed in the last Canto is answered. Dante ascends with Beatrice to the planet Mercury, which is the second heaven; and here he finds a multitude of spirits, one of whom offers to satisfy him of anything he may desire to know from them.

"If beyond earthly wont,[1] the flame of love Illume me, so that I o'ercome thy power Of vision, marvel not: but learn the cause In that perfection of the sight, which, soon As apprehending, hasteneth on to reach The good it apprehends. I well discern, How in thine intellect already shines The light eternal, which to view alone Ne'er fails to kindle love; and if aught else Your love seduces, 'tis but that it shows Some ill - mark'd vestige of that primal beam.

[1: "If beyond earthly wont." Dante having been unable to sustain the splendor of Beatrice, as we have seen at the end of the last Canto, she tells him to attribute her increase of brightness to the place in which they were.]

"This wouldst thou know: if failure of the vow By other service may be so supplied, As from self - question to assure the soul."

Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish, Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off

Discourse, continued in her saintly strain. "Supreme of gifts,[2] which God, creating, gave Of His free bounty, sign most evident Of goodness, and in His account most prized Was liberty of will; the boon, wherewith All intellectual creatures, and them sole, He hath endow'd. Hence now thou mayst infer Of what high worth the vow, which so is framed That when man offers, God well - pleased accepts: For in the compact between God and him, This treasure, such as I describe it to thee, He makes the victim; and of his own act. What compensation therefore may he find? If that, whereof thou hast oblation made, By using well thou think'st to consecrate, Thou wouldst of theft do charitable deed. Thus I resolve thee of the greater point.

[2: "Supreme of gifts." So in the "De Monarchia," lib. i. pp. 107 and

108"If then the judgment altogether move the appetite, and is in no wise
prevented by it, it is free. But if the judgment be moved by the appetite in any way preventing it, it cannot be free: because it acts not of itself, but is led captive by another. And hence it is that brutes cannot have free judgment, because their judgments are always prevented by appetite. And hence it may also appear manifest that intellectual substances, whose wills are immutable, and likewise souls separated from the body, and departing from it well and holily, lose not the liberty of choice on account of the immutability of the will, but retain it most perfectly and powerfully. This being discerned, it is again plain that this liberty, or principle of all our liberty, is the greatest good conferred on human nature by God; because by this very thing we are here made happy, as men; by this we are elsewhere happy, as divine beings."] "But forasmuch as holy Church, herein Dispensing, seems to contradict the truth I have discover'd to thee, yet behoves Thou rest a little longer at the board, Ere the crude aliment which thou hast ta'en, Digested fitly, to nutrition turn. Open thy mind to what I now unfold; And give it inward keeping. Knowledge comes Of learning well retain'd, unfruitful else. "This sacrifice, in essence, of two things Consisteth: one is that, whereof 'tis made; The covenant, the other[3]. For the last, [3: The one, the substance of the vow, as of a single life, or of keeping fast; the other, the compact.] It ne'er is cancel'd, if not kept: and hence I spake, erewhile, so strictly of its force. For this it was enjoin'd the Israelites[4], [change Though leave were given them, as thou know'st, to The offering, still to offer. The other part, The matter and the substance of the vow, May well be such, as that, without offence, It may for other substance be exchanged. But, at his own discretion, none may shift The burden on his shoulders; unreleased By either key,[5] the yellow and the white. Nor deem of any change, as less than vain, If the last bond[6] be not within the new Included, as the quatre in the six. No satisfaction therefore can be paid For what so precious in the balance weighs, That all in counterpoise must kick the beam. Take then no vow at random: ta'en, with faith Preserve it; yet not bent, as Jephthah once, Blindly to execute a rash resolve, Whom better it had suited to exclaim, 'I have done ill,' than to redeem his pledge By doing worse: or, not unlike to him In folly, that great leader of the Greeks; Whence, on the altar, Iphigenia mourn'd Her virgin beauty, and hath since made mourn Both wise and simple, even all, who hear Of so fell sacrifice. Be ye more staid, O Christians! not, like feather, by each wind Removable; nor think to cleanse yourselves In every water. Either testament, The old and new, is yours: and for your guide, The shepherd of the Church. Let this suffice To save you. When by evil lust enticed, Remember ye be men, not senseless beasts; Nor let the Jew, who dwelleth in your streets, Hold you in mockery. Be not, as the lamb, That, fickle wanton, leaves its mother's milk, [4: See Lev. c. xii. and xxvii.] [5: Purgatory, Canto ix. 108.] [6: If the thing substituted be not more precious than the thing released.] To dally with itself in idle play." Such were the words that Beatrice spake: These ended, to that region, where the world Is liveliest, full of fond desire she turn'd. Though mainly prompt new question to propose, Her silence and changed look did keep me dumb. And as the arrow, ere the cord is still, Leapeth unto its mark; so on we sped Into the second realm. There I beheld The dame, so joyous, enter, that the orb Grew brighter at her smiles; and, if the star Were moved to gladness, what then was my cheer, Whom nature hath made apt for every change! As in a quiet and clear lake the fish, If aught approach them from without, do draw Toward it, deeming it their food; so drew Full more than thousand splendours toward us; And in each one was heard: "Lo! one arrived To multiply our loves!" and as each came, The shadow, streaming forth effulgence new, Witness'd augmented joy. Here, Reader! think, If thou didst miss the sequel of my tale, To know the rest how sorely thou wouldst crave; And thou shalt see what vehement desire Possess'd me, soon as these had met my view, To know their state. "O born in happy hour! Thou, to whom grace vouchsafes, or e'er thy close Of fleshly warfare, to behold the thrones Of that eternal triumph; know, to us The light communicated, which through Heaven Expatiates without bound. Therefore, if aught Thou of our beams wouldst borrow for thine aid, Spare not; and, of our radiance, take thy fill." Thus of those piteous spirits one bespake me; And Beatrice next: "Say on; and trust As unto gods." - "How in the light supreme Thou harbour'st, and from thence the virtue bring'st, That, sparkling in thine eyes, denotes thy joy, I mark; but, who thou art, am still to seek; Or wherefore, worthy spirit! for thy lot This sphere[7] assign'd, that oft from mortal ken Is veil'd by other's beams." I said; and turn'd Toward the lustre, that with greeting kind Erewhile had hail'd me. Forthwith, brighter far Than erst, it wax'd: and, as himself the sun Hides through excess of light, when his warm gaze[8] Hath on the mantle of thick vapours prey'd; Within its proper ray the saintly shape Was, through increase of gladness, thus conceal'd; And, shrouded so in splendour, answer'd me, E'en as the tenour of my song declares. [7: "This sphere." The planet Mercury, which being nearest to the sun, is oftenest hidden by that luminary.] [8: "When his warm gaze." When the sun has dried up the vapors that shaded his brightness.]

Paradise Canto 6

Canto VI

Argument

The spirit, who had offered to satisfy the inquiries of Dante, declares himself to be the Emperor Justinian; and after speaking of his own actions, recounts the victories, before him, obtained under the Roman Eagle. He then informs our Poet that the soul of Romeo the pilgrim is in the same star.

"After that Constantine the eagle turn'd[1] Against the motions of the Heaven, that roll'd Consenting with its course, when he of yore, Lavinia's spouse, was leader of the flight; A hundred years twice told and more,[2] his seat At Europe's extreme point,[3] the bird of Jove Held, near the mountains, whence he issued first; There under shadow of his sacred plumes Swaying the world, till through successive hands To mine he came devolved. Caesar I was And am Justinian; destined by the will Of that prime love, whose influence I feel,

[1: Constantine, in transferring the seat of empire from Rome to Byzantium, carried the eagle, the imperial ensign, from the west to the east. Aeneas, on the contrary, had, with better augury, moved along with the sun's course, when he passed from Troy to Italy.]

[2: "A hundred years twice told and more." The Emperor Constantine entered Byzantium in 324; and Justinian began his reign in 527.]

[3: "At Europe's extreme point." Constantine being situated at the extreme of Europe, and on the borders of Asia, near those mountains in the neighborhood of Troy, from whence the first founders of Rome had emigrated.]

From vain excess to clear the incumber'd laws.[4] Or e'er that work engaged me, I did hold In Christ one nature only;[5] with such faith Contented. But the blessed Agapete,[6] Who was chief shepherd, he with warning voice To the true faith recall'd me. I believed His words: and what he taught, now plainly see, As thou in every contradiction seest The true and false opposed. Soon as my feet Were to the Church reclaim'd, to my great task, By inspiration of God's grace impell'd, I gave me wholly; and consign'd mine arms To Belisarius, with whom Heaven's right hand Was link'd in such conjointment, 'twas a sign That I should rest. To thy first question thus I shape mine answer, which were ended here, But that its tendency doth prompt perforce To some addition; that thou well mayst mark, What reason on each side they have to plead, By whom that holiest banner is withstood, Both who pretend its power[7] and who oppose.[8]

[4: The code of laws was abridged and reformed by Justinian.]

[5: Justinian is said to have been a follower of heretical opinions held by Eutyches, "who taught that in Christ there was but one nature, viz., that of the incarnate Word." Maclaine's Mosheim.]

[6: "Agapete." "Agapetus, Bishop of Rome, whose Scheda Regia, addressed to the Emperor Justinian, procured him a place among the wisest and most judicious writers of this country." Ibid.]

[7: The Ghibellines.]

[8: The Guelfs.]

"Beginning from that hour, when Pallas died To give it rule, behold the valorous deeds Have made it worthy reverence. Not unknown To thee, how for three hundred years and more It dwelt in Alba, up to those fell lists Where, for its sake, were met the rival three;[9] Nor aught unknown to thee, which it achieved Down[10] from the Sabines' wrong to Lucrece' woe, With its seven kings conquering the nations round; Nor all it wrought, by Roman worthies borne 'Gainst Brennus and the Epirot prince,[11] and hosts Of single chiefs, or states in league combined

[9: The Horatii and Curiatii.]

[10: "From the rape of the Sabine women to the violation of Lucretia."]

[11: King Pyrrhus.]

Of social warfare: hence, Torquatus stern, And Quintius[12] named of his neglected locks, The Decii, and the Fabii hence acquired Their fame, which I with duteous zeal embalm. By it the pride of Arab hordes[13] was quell'd, When they, led on by Hannibal, o'erpass'd The Alpine rocks, whence glide thy currents, Po! Beneath its guidance, in their prime of days Scipio and Pompey triumph'd; and that hill[14] Under whose summit[15] thou didst see the light, Rued its stern bearing. After, near the hour,[16] When Heaven was minded that o'er all the world His own deep calm should brood, to Caesar's hand Did Rome consign it; and what then it wrought[17] From Var unto the Rhine, saw Isere's flood, Saw Loire and Seine, and every vale, that fills The torrent Rhone. What after that it wrought, When from Ravenna it came forth, and leap'd The Rubicon, was of so bold a flight, That tongue nor pen may follow it. Toward Spain It wheel'd its bands, then toward Dyrrachium smote, And on Pharsalia, with so fierce a plunge, E'en the warm Nile was conscious to the pang; Its native shores Antandros, and the streams Of Simois revisited, and there Where Hector lies; then ill for Ptolemy His pennons shook again; lightening thence fell On Juba, and the next, upon your west, At sound of the Pompeian trump, return'd.

[12: Quintius Cincinnatus.]

[13: The Arabians seem to be put for the barbarians in general.]

[14: "That hill." The city of Fiesole, which was sacked by the Romans after the defeat of Catiline.]

[15: "Under whose summit." "At the foot of which is situated Florence, thy birth - place."]

[16: "Near the hour." Of our Saviour's birth.]

[17: "What then it wrought." In the following fifteen lines the Poet has comprised the exploits of Julius Caesar, for which, and for the allusions in the greater part of this speech of Justinian's, I must refer my reader to the history of Rome.]

"What following, and in its next bearer's gripe,[18] It wrought, is now by Cassius and Brutus Bark'd of in Hell; and by Perugia's sons, And Modena's, was mourn'd. Hence weepeth still

[18: With Augustus Caesar.]

Sad Cleopatra, who pursued by it, Took from the adder black and sudden death. With him it ran e'en to the Red Sea coast; With him composed the world to such a peace, That of his temple Janus barr'd the door.

"But all the mighty standard yet had wrought, And was appointed to perform thereafter, Throughout the mortal kingdom which it sway'd, Falls in appearance dwindled and obscured, If one with steady eye and perfect thought On the third Caesar[19] look; for to his hands, The living Justice, in whose breath I move, Committed glory, e'en into his hands, To execute the vengeance of its wrath.

[19: "The third Caesar." The eagle in the hand of Tiberius, the third of the Caesars, outdid all its achievements, both past and future, by becoming the instrument of that mighty and mysterious act of satisfaction made to the divine justice in the crucifixion of our Lord.]

"Hear now, and wonder at, what next I tell. After with Titus it was sent to wreak Vengeance for vengeance of the ancient sin. And, when the Lombard tooth, with fang impure, Did gore the bosom of the holy Church, Under its wings, victorious Charlemain[20] Sped to her rescue. Judge then for thyself Of those, whom I erewhile accused to thee, What they are, and how grievous their offending, Who are the cause of all your ills. The one[21] Against the universal ensign rears The yellow lilies;[22] and with partial aim, That, to himself, the other[23] arrogates: So that 'tis hard to see who most offends. Be yours, ye Ghibellines, to veil your hearts Beneath another standard: ill is this Follow'd of him, who severs it and justice: And let not with his Guelfs the new - crown'd Charles

[20: "Charlemain." Dante could not be ignorant that the reign of Justinian was long prior to that of Charlemagne; but the spirit of the former emperor is represented, both in this instance and in what follows, as conscious of the events that had taken place after his own time.]

[21: "The one." The Guelf party.]

[22: The French ensign.]

[23: The Ghibelline party.]

Assail it;[24] but those talons hold in dread, Which from a lion of more lofty port Have rent the casing. Many a time ere now The sons have for the sire's transgression wail'd: Nor let him trust the fond belief, that Heaven Will truck its armour for his lilied shield.

[24: "Charles." The commentators explain this to mean Charles II, King of Naples and Sicily. Is it not more likely to allude to Charles of Valois, son of Philip III of France, who was sent for, about this time, into Italy by Pope Boniface, with the promise of being made Emperor? See G. Villani, lib. viii. cap. xlii.]

"This little star is furnish'd with good spirits, Whose mortal lives were busied to that end, That honour and renown might wait on them: And, when desires[25] thus err in their intention, True love must needs ascend with slacker beam. But it is part of our delight, to measure Our wages with the merit; and admire The close proportion. Hence doth heavenly justice Temper so evenly affection in us, It ne'er can warp to any wrongfulness. Of diverse voices is sweet music made: So in our life the different degrees Render sweet harmony among these wheels.

[25: When honour and fame are the chief motives to action, the love for Heaven must become less fervent.]

"Within the pearl, that now encloseth us, Shines Romeo's light,[26] whose goodly deed and fair Met ill acceptance. But the Provencals, That were his foes, have little cause for mirth. Ill shapes that man his course, who makes his wrong Of other's worth. Four daughters[27] were there born To Raymond Berenger; and every one Became a queen: and this for him did Romeo, Though of mean state and from a foreign land.

[26: After he had long been faithful steward to Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence, and last of the house of Barcelona, who died 1245, when an account was required from him of the revenues which his master had lavishly disbursed, he demanded the little mule, the staff, and the scrip, with which he had first entered into the Count's service, a stranger pilgrim from the shrine of St. James, in Galicia, and parted as he came.]

[27: Of the four daughters of Raymond, Margaret, the eldest, was married to Louis IX of France; Eleanor to Henry III of England; Sancha to Richard, Henry's brother, and King of the Romans; and the youngest, Beatrix, to Charles I, King of Naples and Sicily, and brother to Louis.]

Yet envious tongues incited him to ask A reckoning of that just one, who return'd Twelve fold to him for ten. Aged and poor He parted thence: and if the world did know The heart he had, begging his life by morsels, 'Twould deem the praise, it yields him, scantly dealt."

Paradise Canto 7

Canto VII

Argument

In consequence of what had been said by Justinian, who together with the other spirits has now disappeared, some doubts arise in the mind of Dante respecting the human redemption. These difficulties are fully explained by Beatrice.

"Hosanna[1] Sanctus Deus Sabaoth, Superillustrans claritate tua Felices ignes horum malahoth." Thus chanting saw I turn that substance bright,[2] With fourfold lustre to its orb again, Revolving; and the rest, unto their dance, With it, moved also; and, like swiftest sparks, In sudden distance from my sight were veil'd.

[1: "Hosanna." "Hosanna holy God of Sabaoth, abundantly illumining with thy brightness the blessed fires of these kingdoms."]

[2: Justinian.]

Me doubt possess'd; and "Speak," it wispher'd me, "Speak, speak unto thy lady; that she quench Thy thirst with drops of sweetness." Yet blank awe, Which lords it o'er me, even at the sound Of Beatrice's name, did bow me down As one in slumber held. Not long that mood Beatrice suffer'd; she, with such a smile, As might have made one blest amid the flames,[3] Beaming upon me, thus her words began: "Thou in thy thought art pondering (as I deem, And what I deem is truth) how just revenge Could be with justice punish'd: from which doubt I soon will free thee; so thou mark my words; For they of weighty matter shall possess thee. Through suffering not a curb upon the power That will'd in him, to his own profiting, That man, who was unborn,[4] condemn'd himself;

[3: So Giusto de' Conti.]

[4: Adam.]

And, in himself, all, who since him have lived, His offspring: whence, below, the human kind Lay sick in grievous error many an age; Until it pleased the Word of God to come Amongst them down, to His own person joining The nature from its Maker far estranged, By the mere act of His eternal love. Contemplate here the wonder I unfold: The nature with its Maker thus conjoin'd, Created first was blameless, pure and good; But, through itself alone, was driven forth From Paradise, because it had eschew'd The way of truth and life, to evil turn'd. Ne'er then was penalty so just as that Inflicted by the Cross, if thou regard The nature in assumption doom'd; ne'er wrong So great, in reference to Him, who took Such nature on Him, and endured the doom. So different effects[5] flow'd from one act: For by one death God and the Jews were pleased; And Heaven was open'd, though the earth did quake. Count it not hard henceforth, when thou dost hear That a just vengeance[6] was, by righteous court, Justly revenged. But yet I see thy mind, By thought on thought arising, sore perplex'd; And, with how vehement desire, it asks Solution of the maze. What I have heard, Is plain, thou sayst: but wherefore God this way For our redemption chose, eludes my search.

[5: The death of Christ was pleasing to God, inasmuch as it satisfied the divine justice; and to the Jews, because it gratified their malignity; and while Heaven opened for joy at man's ransom, the earth trembled through compassion for its Maker.]

[6: The punishment of Christ by the Jews, although just as far as regarded the human nature assumed by Him, and so a righteous vengeance of sin, yet being unjust as regards the divine nature, was itself justly revenged on the Jews by the destruction of Jerusalem.]

"Brother! no eye of man not perfected, Nor fully ripen'd in the flame of love, May fathom this decree. It is a mark, In sooth, much aim'd at, and but little kenn'd: And I will therefore show thee why such way

Was worthiest. The celestial Love, that spurns All envying in its bounty, in itself With such effulgence blazeth, as sends forth All beauteous things eternal. What distils Immediate thence, no end of being knows; Bearing its seal immutably imprest. Whatever thence immediate falls, is free, Free wholly, uncontrollable by power Of each thing new: by such conformity More grateful to its Author, whose bright beams, Though all partake their shining, yet in those Are liveliest, which resemble Him the most. These tokens of pre - eminence[7] on man Largely bestow'd, if any of them fail, He needs must forfeit his nobility, No longer stainless. Sin alone is that, Which doth disfranchise him, and make unlike To the Chief Good; for that its light in him Is darken'd. And to dignity thus lost Is no return; unless, where guilt makes void, He for ill pleasure pay with equal pain. Your nature, which entirely in its seed Transgress'd, from these distinctions fell, no less Than from its state in Paradise; nor means Found of recovery (search all methods out As strictly as thou may) save one of these, The only fords were left through which to wade: Either, that God had of His courtesy Released him merely; or else, man himself For his own folly by himself atoned.

[7: The before - mentioned gifts of immediate creation by God, independence on secondary causes, and consequent similitude and agreeableness to the Divine Being, all at first conferred on man.]

"Fix now thine eye, intently as thou canst, On the everlasting counsel; and explore, Instructed by my words, the dread abyss.

"Man in himself had ever lack'd the means Of satisfaction, for he could not stoop Obeying, in humility so low, As high, he, disobeying, thought to soar:

And, for this reason, he had vainly tried, Out of his own sufficiency to pay The rigid satisfaction. Then behoved That God should by His own ways lead him back Unto the life, from whence he fell, restored; By both His ways, I mean, or one alone.[8] But since the deed is ever prized the more, The more the doer's good intent appears; Goodness celestial, whose broad signature Is on the universe, of all its ways To raise ye up, was fain to leave out none. Nor aught so vast or so magnificent, Either for Him who gave or who received, Between the last night and the primal day, Was or can be. For God more bounty show'd, Giving Himself to make man capable Of his return to life, than had the terms Been mere and unconditional release. And for His justice, every method else Were all too scant, had not the Son of God Humbled Himself to put on mortal flesh.

[8: Either by mercy and justice united or by mercy alone.]

"Now, to content thee fully, I revert; And further in some part[9] unfold my speech, That thou mayst see it clearly as myself.

[9: She reverts to that part of her discourse where she had said that what proceeds immediately from God "no end of being knows." She then proceeds to tell him that the elements, which, though he knew them to be created, he yet saw dissolved, received their form not immediately from God, but from a virtue or power created by God; that the soul of brutes and plants is in like manner drawn forth by the stars with a combination of those elements meetly tempered. "di complession potenziata"; but that the angels and the heavens may be said to be created in that very manner in which they exist, without any intervention of agency.]

"I see, thou sayst, the air, the fire I see, The earth and water, and all things of them Compounded, to corruption turn, and soon Dissolve. Yet these were also things create. Because, if what were told me, had been true, They from corruption had been therefore free.

"The Angels, O my brother! and this clime Wherein thou art, impassable and pure, I call created, even as they are

In their whole being. But the elements, Which thou hast named, and what of them is made, Are by created virtue inform'd: create, Their substance; and create, the informing virtue In these bright stars, that round them circling move. The soul of every brute and of each plant, The ray and motion of the sacred lights, Draw from complexion with meet power endued. But this our life the Eternal Good inspires Immediate, and enamours of itself; So that our wishes rest for ever here.

"And hence thou mayst by inference conclude Our resurrection certain, if thy mind Consider how the human flesh was framed, When both our parents at the first were made."

Paradise Canto 8

Canto VIII

Argument

The Poet ascends with Beatrice to the third heaven, the planet Venus; and here finds the soul of Charles Martel, King of Hungary, who had been Dante's friend on earth, and who now, after speaking of the realms to which he was heir, unfolds the cause why children differ in disposition from their parents.

The world[1] was, in its day of peril dark, Wont to believe the dotage of fond love, From the fair Cyprian deity, who rolls In her third epicycle, shed on men By stream of potent radiance: therefore they Of elder time, in their old error blind, Not her alone with sacrifice adored And invocation, but like honours paid To Cupid and Dione, deem'd of them Her mother, and her son, him whom they feign'd To sit in Dido's bosom: and from her, Whom I have sung preluding, borrow'd they The appellation of that star, which views Now obvious, and now averse, the sun.

[1: The Poet, on his arrival at the third Heaven, tells us that the world, in its days of heathen darkness, believed the influence of sensual love to proceed from the star, to which, under the name of Venus, they paid divine honors; as they worshipped the supposed mother and son of Venus, under the names of Dione and Cupid.]

I was not ware that I was wafted up Into its orb; but the new loveliness, That graced my lady, gave me ample proof That we had enter'd there. And as in flame A sparkle is distinct, or voice in voice Discern'd, when one its even tenour keeps, The other comes and goes; so in that light I other luminaries saw, that coursed In circling motion, rapid more or less, As their eternal vision each impels.

Never was blast from vapour charged with cold, Whether invisible to eye or no, Descended with such speed, it had not seem'd To linger in dull tardiness, compared To those celestial lights, that toward us came, Leaving the circuit of their joyous ring, Conducted by the lofty Seraphim. And after them, who in the van appear'd, Such an Hossana sounded as hath left Desire, ne'er since extinct in me, to hear Renew'd the strain. Then, parting from the rest, One near us drew, and sole began: "We all Are ready at thy pleasure, well disposed To do thee gentle service. We are they To whom thou in the world erewhile didst sing; 'O ye! whose intellectual ministry Moves the third Heaven:' and in one orb we roll, One motion, one impulse, with those who rule Princedoms in Heaven; yet are of love so full, That to please thee 'twill be as sweet to rest."

After mine eyes had with meek reverence Sought the celestial guide, and were by her Assured, they turn'd again unto the light, Who had so largely promised; and with voice That bare the lively pressure of my zeal, "Tell who ye are," I cried. Forthwith it grew In size and splendour, through augmented joy; And thus it answer'd: "A short date, below, The world possess'd me.[2] Had the time been more, Much evil, that will come, had never chanced. My gladness hides thee from me, which doth shine Around, and shroud me, as an animal In its own silk enswathed. Thou lovedst me well,[3] And hadst good cause; for had my sojourning Been longer on the earth, the love I bare thee Had put forth more than blossoms. The left bank,[4] That Rhone, when he hath mix'd with Sorga, laves, In me its lord expected, and that horn Of fair Ausonia,[5] with its boroughs old, Bari, and Croton, and Gaeta piled, From where the Trento disembogues his waves With Verde mingled, to the salt - sea flood. Already on my temples beam'd the crown, Which gave me sovereignty over the land[6] By Danube wash'd, whenas he strays beyond The limits of his German shores. The realm, Where, on the gulf by stormy Eurus lash'd, Betwixt Pelorus and Pachynian heights, The beautiful Trinacria[7] lies in gloom, (Not through Typhoeus,[8] but the vapoury cloud Bituminous upsteam'd), that too did look To have its sceptre wielded by a race [Rodolph,[9] Of monarchs, sprung through me from Charles and Had not ill - lording,[10] which doth desperate make

[2: The spirit now speaking is Charles Martel, crowned King of Hungary, and son of Charles II, King of Naples and Sicily, to which throne, dying in his father's lifetime, he did not succeed. The evil, that would have been prevented by the longer life of Charles Martel, was that resistance which his brother Robert, King of Sicily, who succeeded him, made to the Emperor Henry VII.]

[3: Charles Martel might have been known to our Poet at Florence, whither he came to meet his father in 1259, the year of his death. G. Villani says that "he remained more than twenty days in Florence, waiting for his father, King Charles, and his brothers." Lib. vii. cap. xiii. His brother Robert, King of Naples, was the friend of Petrarch.]

[4: "The left bank." Provence.]

[5: The kingdom of Naples.]

[6: "The land." Hungary.]

[7: Sicily; so called from its three promontories of which Pachynus and Pelorus, here mentioned, are two.]

[8: The giant, whom Jupiter overwhelmed under Mount Aetna, whence he vomited forth smoke and flame.]

[9: "Sicily would be still ruled by monarchs, descended through me from Charles I and Rodolph I, the former my grandfather, King of Naples and Sicily; the latter, Emperor of Germany, my father - in - law;" both celebrated in the "Purgatory," Canto vii.]

[10: If the ill - conduct of our governors in Sicily had not excited the people to that dreadful massacre at the Sicilian vespers in consequence of which the kingdom fell into the hands of Peter III of Arragon, in 1282.]

The people ever, in Palermo raised The shout of 'death,' re - echoed loud and long. Had but my brother's foresight[11] kenn'd as much, He had been warier, that the greedy want Of Catalonia might not work his bale. And truly need there is that he forecast, Or other for him, lest more freight be laid On his already over - laden bark. Nature in him, from bounty fallen to thrift, Would ask the guard of braver arms, than such As only care to have their coffers fill'd."

[11: He seems to tax his brother Robert with employing necessitous and greedy Catalonians to administer the affairs of his kingdom.]

"My liege! it doth enhance the joy thy words Infuse into me, mighty as it is, To think my gladness manifest to thee, As to myself, who own it, when thou look'st Into the source and limit of all good, There, where thou markest that which thou dost speak, Thence prized of me the more. Glad thou hast made Now make intelligent, clearing the doubt [me: Thy speech hath raised in me; for much I muse, How bitter can spring up,[12] when sweet is sown."

[12: "How a covetous son can spring from a liberal father." Yet that father has himself been accused of avarice in the "Purgatory," Canto xx. 78; though his general character was that of a bounteous prince.]

I thus inquiring; he forthwith replied: "If I have power to show one truth, soon that Shall face thee, which thy questioning declares Behind thee now conceal'd. The Good,[13] that guides

[13: The Supreme Being uses these spheres as the intelligent instruments of His providence in the conduct of terrestrial natures; so that these natures cannot but be conducted aright, unless these heavenly bodies should themselves fail from not having been made perfect at first, or the Creator of them should fail. To this Dante replies, that Nature, he is satisfied, thus directed must do her part. Charles Martel then reminds him that he had learned from Aristotle that human society requires a variety of conditions, and consequently a variety of qualifications in its members. Accordingly, men are born with different powers and capacities, caused by the influence of the heavenly bodies at the time of their nativity; on which influence, and not on their parents, those powers and capacities depend. Charles Martel adds, by way of corollary, that the want of observing their natural bent, in the destination of men to their several offices in life, is the occasion of much of the disorder that prevails in the world.]

And blessed makes this realm which thou dost mount, Ordains its providence to be the virtue In these great bodies: nor the natures only The all - perfect Mind provides for, but with them That which preserves them too; for naught, that lies Within the range of that unerring bow, But is as level with the destined aim, As ever mark to arrow's point opposed. Were it not thus, these Heavens, thou dost visit, Would their effect so work, it would not be Art, but destruction; and this may not chance, If the intellectual powers, that move these stars, Fail not, and who, first faulty made them, fail. Wilt thou this truth more clearly evidenced?"

To whom I thus: "It is enough: no fear, I see, lest nature in her part should tire."

He straight rejoin'd: "Say, were it worse for man, If he lived not in fellowship on earth?"

"Yea," answer'd I; "nor here a reason needs."

"And may that be, if different estates Grow not of different duties in your life? Consult your teacher,[14] and he tells you 'no.'"

[14: Aristotle, De Rep., lib. iii. cap. 4: Since a state is made up of members differing from one another (for even as an animal, in the first instance, consists of soul and body; and the soul, of reason and desire; and a family, of man and woman; and property, of master and slave; in like manner a state consists both of all these, and besides these of other dissimilar kinds); it necessarily follows that the excellence of all the members of the state cannot be one and the same.]

Thus did he come, deducing to this point, And then concluded: "For this cause behoves, The roots, from whence your operations come, Must differ. Therefore one is Solon born; Another, Xerxes; and Melchisedec A third; and he a fourth, whose airy voyage Cost him his son.[15] In her circuitous course, Nature, that is the seal to mortal wax, Doth well her art, but no distinction owns 'Twixt one or other household. Hence befals That Esau is so wide of Jacob: hence Quirinus[16] of so base a father springs,

[15: Daedalus.]

[16: "Quirinus." Romulus, born of so obscure a father that his parentage was attributed to Mars.]

He dates from Mars his lineage. Were it not That Providence celestial overruled, Nature, in generation, must the path Traced by the generator still pursue Unswervingly. Thus place I in thy sight That, which was late behind thee. But, in sign Of more affection for thee, 'tis my will Thou wear this corollary. Nature ever, Finding discordant fortune, like all seed Out of its proper climate, thrives but ill. And were the world below content to mark And work on the foundation nature lays, I would not lack supply of excellence. But ye perversely to religion strain Him, who was born to gird on him the sword, And of the fluent phraseman make your king: Therefore your steps have wander'd from the path."

Paradise Canto 9

Canto IX

Argument

The next spirit who converses with our Poet in the planet Venus is the amorous Cunizza. To her succeeds Folco, or Folques, the Provencal bard, who declares that the soul of Rahab the harlot is there also; and then, blaming the Pope for his neglect of the Holy Land, prognosticates some reverse to the papal power.

After solution of my doubt, thy Charles, O fair Clemenza,[1] of the treachery[2] spake, That must befal his seed; but, "Tell it not," Said he, "and let the destined years come round." Nor may I tell thee more, save that the meed Of sorrow well - deserved shall quit your wrongs.

[1: Daughter of Charles Martel, and second wife of Louis X of France.]

[2: "The treachery." He alludes to the occupation of the Kingdom of Sicily by Robert, in exclusion of his brother's son Carobert, or Charles Robert, the rightful heir.]

And now the visage of that saintly light[3] Was to the sun, that fills it, turn'd again, As to the good, whose plenitude of bliss Sufficeth all. O ye misguided souls! Infatuate, who from such a good estrange Your hearts, and bend your gaze on vanity, Alas for you! - And lo! toward me, next,

[3: Charles Martel.]

Another of those splendent forms approach'd, That, by its outward brightening, testified The will it had to pleasure me. The eyes Of Beatrice, resting, as before, Firmly, upon me, manifested forth Approval of my wish. "And O," I cried, "Blest spirit! quickly be my will perform'd; And prove thou to me,[4] that my inmost thoughts I can reflect on thee." Thereat the light, That yet was new to me, from the recess, Where it before was singing, thus began, As one who joys in kindness: "In that part[5] Of the depraved Italian land, which lies Between Rialto and the fountain springs Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise, But to no lofty eminence, a hill, From whence erewhile a firebrand did descend, That sorely shent the region. From one root I and it sprang; my name on earth Cunizza:[6] And here I glitter, for that by its light This star o'ercame me. Yet I naught repine,[7] Nor grudge myself the cause of this my lot: Which haply vulgar hearts can scarce conceive.

[4: The thoughts of all created minds being seen by the Deity, and all that is in the Deity being the object of vision to beatified spirits, such spirits must consequently see the thoughts of all created minds. Dante, therefore, requests of the spirit, who now approaches him, a proof of this truth with regard to his own thoughts. See v. 70.]

[5: Between Rialto in the Venetian territory, and the sources of the rivers Brenta and Piava, is situated a castle called Romano, the birthplace of the famous tyrant Ezzolino or Azzolino, the brother of Cunizza, who is now speaking. See Hell, Canto xii. v. 110.]

[6: "Cunizza." The adventures of Cunizza, overcome by the influence of her star, are related by the chronicler Rolandino, of Padua. She eloped from her first husband, Richard of St. Boniface, in the company of Sordello, with whom she is supposed to have cohabited before her marriage: then lived with a soldier of Trevigi, whose wife was living at the same time in the same city; and, on his being murdered by her brother the tyrant, was by her brother married to a nobleman of Braganzo: lastly, when he also had fallen by the same hand, she after her brother's death, was again, wedded in Verona.]

[7: "I am not dissatisfied that I am not allotted a higher place."]

"This[8] jewel, that is next me in our Heaven, Lustrous and costly, great renown hath left, And not to perish, ere these hundred years

[8: "This." Folco of Genoa, a celebrated Provencal poet, commonly termed Folques of Marseilles, of which place he was perhaps bishop.]

Five times[9] absolve their round. Consider thou, If to excel be worthy man's endeavour, When such life may attend the first.[10] Yet they Care not for this, the crowd[11] that now are girt By Adice and Tagliamento, still Impenitent, though scourged. The hour is near[12] When for their stubbornness, at Padua's marsh The water shall be changed, that laves Vicenza. And where Cagnano meets with Sile, one[13] Lords it, and bears his head aloft, for whom The web[14] is now a - warping. Feltro[15] too Shall sorrow for its godless shepherd's fault, Of so deep stain, that never, for the like, Was Malta's[16] bar unclosed. Too large should be The skillet[17] that would hold Ferrara's blood, And wearied he, who ounce by ounce would weigh it, The which this priest,[18] in show of party - zeal, Courteous will give; nor will the gift ill suit The country's custom. We descry above Mirrors, ye call them Thrones, from which to us Reflected shine the judgments of our God: Whence these our sayings we avouch for good."

[9: The 500 years are elapsed.]

[10: When the mortal life of man may be attended by so lasting and glorious a memory, which is a kind of second life.]

[11: The people who inhabited the country bounded by the Tagliamento to the east and Adice to the west.]

[12: Cunizza foretells the defeat of Giacopo da Carrara and the Paduans, by Can Grande, at Vicenza, on September 18, 1314.]

[13: "One." She predicts also the fate of Riccardo da Camino, who is said to have been murdered at Trevigi (where the rivers Sile and Cagnano meet) where he was engaged in playing at chess.]

[14: "The web." The net, or snare, into which he is destined to fall.]

[15: The Bishop of Feltro having received a number of fugitives from Ferrara, who were in opposition to the Pope, under a promise of protection, afterward gave them up; so that they were reconducted to that city, and the greater part of them there put to death.]

[16: "Malta's." A tower, either in the citadel of Padua, which, under the tyranny of Ezzolino, had been "with many a foul and midnight murder fed"; or (as some say) near a river of the same name, that falls into the Lake of Bolsena, in which the Pope was accustomed to imprison such as had been guilty of an irremissible sin.]

[17: "The skillet." The blood shed could not be contained in such a vessel, if it were of the usual size.]

[18: The bishop, who, to show himself a zealous partisan of the Pope, had committed the above - mentioned act of treachery. The commentators are not agreed as to his name. Troya calls him Alessandro Novello, and relates the circumstances at full.]

She ended; and appear'd on other thoughts Intent, re - entering on the wheel she late Had left. That other joyance meanwhile wax'd A thing to marvel at, in splendour glowing, Like choicest ruby stricken by the sun. For, in that upper clime, effulgence[19] comes Of gladness, as here laughter: and below, As the mind saddens, murkier grows the shade.

[19: As joy is expressed by laughter on earth, so is it by an increase of splendor in Paradise; and, on the contrary, grief is betokened in Hell by augmented darkness.]

"God seeth all: and in Him is thy sight," Said I, "blest spirit! Therefore will of His Cannot to thee be dark. Why then delays Thy voice to satisfy my wish untold; That voice, which joins the inexpressive song, Pastime of Heaven, the which those Ardours sing, That cowl them with six shadowing wings[20] outspread? I would not wait thy asking, wert thou known To me, as thoroughly I to thee am known."

[20: "Above it stood the seraphims; each one had six wings." - Is. vi. 2.]

He, forthwith answering, thus, his words began: "The valley of waters,[21] widest next to that[22] Which doth the earth engarland, shapes its course, Between discordant shores,[23] against the sun Inward so far, it makes meridian[24] there, Where was before the horizon. Of that vale Dwelt I upon the shore, 'twixt Ebro's stream And Macra's,[25] that divides with passage brief Genoan bounds from Tuscan. East and west Are nearly one to Begga[26] and my land Whose haven[27] erst was with its own blood warm. Who knew my name, were wont to call me Folco; And I did bear impression of this Heaven,[28]

[21: The Mediterranean Sea.]

[22: "That." The great ocean.]

[23: Europe and Africa.]

[24: "Meridian." Extending to the east, the Mediterranean at last reaches the coast of Palestine, which is on its horizon when it enters the Straits of Gibraltar.]

[25: Ebro, a river to the west, and Macra, a river to the east, of Genoa, where Folco was born; others think that Marseilles, and not Genoa, is here described; and then Ebro must be understood of the river in Spain.]

[26: "Begga." A place in Africa.]

[27: Alluding to the slaughter of the Genoese by the Saracens in 936.]

[28: The planet Venus, by which Folco declares himself to have been formerly influenced.]

That now bears mine: for not with fiercer flame Glow'd Belus' daughter,[29] injuring alike Sichaeus and Creusa, than did I, Long as it suited the unripen'd down That fledged my cheek; nor she of Rhodope,[30] That was beguiled of Demophoon; Nor Jove's son,[31] when the charms of Iole Were shrined within his heart. And yet there bides No sorrowful repentance here, but mirth, Not for the fault, (that doth not come to mind,) But for the virtue, whose o'erruling sway And providence have wrought thus quaintly. Here The skill is look'd into, that fashioneth With such effectual working, and the good Discern'd, accruing to the lower world From this above, But fully to content Thy wishes all that in this sphere have birth, Demands my further parle. Inquire thou wouldst, Who of this light is denizen, that here Beside me sparkles, as the sunbeam doth On the clear wave. Know then, the soul of Rahab[32] Is in that gladsome harbour; to our tribe United, and the foremost rank assign'd. She to this Heaven,[33] at which the shadow ends Of your sublunar world, was taken up, First, in Christ's triumph, of all soul redeem'd: For well behoved, that, in some part of Heaven, She should remain a trophy, to declare The mighty conquest won with either palm;[34] For that she favour'd first the high exploit Of Joshua on the Holy Land, whereof The Pope[35] recks little now. Thy city, plant Of him,[36] that on his Maker turn'd the back, And of whose envying so much woe hath sprung,

[29: "Belus' daughter." Dido.]

[30: "She of Rhodope." Phyllis.]

[31: "Jove's son." Hercules.]

[32: "Rahab." Heb. xi. 31.]

[33: "This planet of Venus, at which the shadow of the earth ends (Almagest) writes Ptolemy." - Vellutello.]

[34: By both hands nailed to the cross.]

[35: "Who cares not that the Holy Land is in the possession of the Saracens."]

[36: "Of him." Of Satan.]

Engenders and expands the cursed flower,[37] That hath made wander both the sheep and lambs, Turning the shepherd to a wolf. For this, The Gospel and great teachers laid aside, The decretals,[38] as their stuff margins show, Are the sole study. Pope and Cardinals, Intent on these, ne'er journey but in thought To Nazareth, where Gabriel oped his wings. Yet it may chance, ere long, the Vatican,[39] And other most selected parts of Rome, That were the grave of Peter's soldiery, Shall be deliver'd from the adulterous bond."

[37: The coin of Florence, the florin; the covetous desire of which has excited the Pope to so much evil.]

[38: "The decretals." The canon law. So in the "De Monarchia," lib. iii. p. 137: "There are also a third set, whom they call Decretalists. These, alike ignorant of theology and philosophy, relying wholly on their decretals (which I indeed esteem not unworthy of reverence), in the hope I suppose of obtaining for them a paramount influence, derogate from the authority of the empire. Nor is this to be wondered at, when I have heard one of them impudently maintaining, that traditions are the foundation of the faith of the Church."]

[39: He alludes either to the death of Pope Boniface VIII or to the coming of the Emperor Henry VII into Italy; or else to the transfer of the Holy See from Rome to Avignon, which took place in the pontificate of Clement V.]

Paradise Canto 10

Canto X

Argument

Their next ascent carries them into the sun, which is the fourth heaven. Here they are encompassed with a wreath of blessed spirits, twelve in number. Thomas Aquinas, who is one of these, declares the names and endowments of the rest.

Looking into His First - Born with the Love, Which breathes from both eternal, the first Might Ineffable, wherever eye or mind Can roam, hath in such order all disposed, As none may see and fail to enjoy. Raise, then, O reader! to the lofty wheels, with me, Thy ken directed to the point,[1] whereat One motion strikes on the other. There begin Thy wonder of the mighty Architect,

[1: To that part of heaven where the equinoctial circle and the Zodiac intersect each other, where the common motion of the heavens from east to west may be said to strike with greatest force against the motion proper to the planets, and this repercussion, as it were, is here the strongest, because the velocity of each is increased to the utmost by their respective distances from the poles.]

Who loves His work so inwardly, His eye Doth ever watch it. See, how thence oblique[2] Brancheth the circle, where the planets roll To pour their wished influence on the world; Whose path not bending thus, in Heaven above[3] Much virtue would be lost, and here on earth All power well - nigh extinct; or, from direct Were its departure distant more or less, I' the universal order, great defect Must, both in Heaven and here beneath, ensue.

[2: "Oblique." The Zodiac.]

[3: If the planets did not preserve that order in which they move, they would not receive nor transmit their due influences; and if the Zodiac were not thus oblique; if toward the north it either passed or went short of the tropic of Cancer, or else toward the south it passed, or went short of the tropic of Capricorn, it would not divide the seasons as it now does.]

Now rest thee, reader! on thy bench, and muse Anticipative of the feast to come So shall delight make thee not feel thy toil. Lo! I have set before thee; for thyself Feed now: the matter I indite, henceforth Demands entire my thought. Join'd with the part,[4] Which late we told of, the great minister[5] Of nature that upon the world imprints The virtue of the Heaven, and doles out Time for us with his beam, went circling on Along the spires,[6] where[7] each hour sooner comes; And I was with him, weetless of ascent, But as a man,[8] that weets his thought, ere thinking.

[4: The intersection of the equinoctial circle and the Zodiac.]

[5: "Minister." The sun.]

[6: According to Dante, as the earth is motionless, the sun passes by a spiral motion, from one tropic to another.]

[7: "Where." In which the sun rises earlier every day after the vernal equinox.]

[8: "But as a man." That is, he was quite insensible of it.]

For Beatrice, she who passeth on So suddenly from good to better, time Counts not the act, oh then how great must needs Have been her brightness! What there was i' th' sun, (Where I had enter'd,) not through change of hue, But light transparent - did I summon up Genius, art, practice - I might not so speak, It should be e'er imagined: yet believed

It may be, and the sight be justly craved. And if our fantasy fail of such height, What marvel, since no eye above the sun Hath ever travel'd? Such are they dwell here, Fourth family[9] of the Omnipotent Sire, Who of His Spirit and of His Offspring[10] shows; And holds them still enraptured with the view. And thus to me Beatrice: "Thank, oh thank The Sun of Angels, Him, who by His grace To this perceptible hath lifted thee."

[9: "Fourth family." The inhabitants of the sun, the fourth planet.]

[10: The procession of the third and the generation of the second person in the Trinity.]

Never was heart in such devotion bound, And with complacency so absolute Disposed to render up itself to God, As mine was at those words: and so entire The love for Him, that held me, it eclipsed Beatrice in oblivion. Nought displeased Was she, but smiled thereat so joyously, That of her laughing eyes the radiance brake And scatter'd my collected mind abroad.

Then saw I a bright band, in liveliness Surpassing, who themselves did make the crown, And us their centre: yet more sweet in voice, Than, in their visage, beaming. Cinctured thus, Sometime Latona's daughter we behold, When the impregnate air retains the thread That weaves her zone. In the celestial court, Whence I return, are many jewels found, So dear and beautiful, they cannot brook Transporting from that realm: and of these lights Such was the song.[11] Who doth not prune his wing To soar up thither, let him[12] look from thence For tidings from the dumb. When, singing thus, Those burning suns had circled round us thrice, As nearest stars around the fixed pole; Then seem'd they like to ladies, from the dance Not ceasing, but suspense, in silent pause,

[11: The song of these spirits was like a jewel so highly prized that the exportation of it is prohibited by law.]

[12: Let him not expect intelligence of that place, for it surpasses direction.]

Listening, till they have caught the strain anew: Suspended so they stood: and, from within, Thus heard I one, who spake: "Since with its beam The Grace, whence true love lighteth first his flame, That after doth increase by loving, shines So multiplied in thee, it leads thee up Along this ladder, down whose hallow'd steps None e'er descend, and mount them not again; Who from his phial should refuse thee wine To slake thy thirst, no less constrained[13] were, Than water flowing not unto the sea. Thou fain wouldst hear, what plants are these, that bloom In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds This fair dame round, who strengthens thee for Heaven. I, then,[14] was of the lambs, that Dominic Leads, for his saintly flock, along the way Where well they thrive, not swoln with vanity. He, nearest on my right hand, brother was, And master to me: Albert of Cologne[15] Is this; and, of Aquinum, Thomas[16] I. If thou of all the rest wouldst be assured, Let thine eye, waiting on the words I speak, In circuit journey round the blessed wreath. That next resplendence issues from the smile Of Gratian,[17] who to either forum[18] lent

[13: "The rivers might as easily cease to flow toward the sea, as we could deny thee thy request."]

[14: "I was of the Dominican order."]

[15: Albertus Magnus was born at Laugingen, in Thuringia, in 1193, and studied at Paris and at Padua; at the latter place he entered into the Dominican order. He then taught theology in various parts of Germany, and particularly at Cologne. Thomas Aquinas was his favorite pupil In 1260 he reluctantly accepted the bishopric of Ratisbon, and in two years after resigned it, and returned to his cell in Cologne, where the remainder of his life was passed in superintending the school, and in composing his voluminous works on divinity and natural science. He died in 1280.]

[16: Thomas Aquinas, of whom Bucer is reported to have said, "Take but Thomas away, and I will overturn the Church of Rome:; and whom Hooker terms "the greatest among the school divines" - ("Eccl. Pol." b. iii. section 9), was born of noble parents, who anxiously but vainly endeavored to divert him from a life of celibacy and study. He died in 1274, at the age of forty - seven.]

[17: "Gratian." Gratian, a Benedictine monk belonging to the convent of St. Felix and Nabor, at Bologna, and by birth a Tuscan, composed, about the year 1130, for the use of the schools, an abridgement or epitome of canon law, drawn from the letters of the pontiffs, the decrees of councils and the writings of the ancient doctors.]

[18: "To either forum." By reconciling the civil with the canon law.]

Such help, as favour wins in Paradise. The other, nearest, who adorns our quire, Was Peter,[19] he that with the widow gave To holy Church his treasure. The fifth light,[20] Goodliest of all, is by such love inspired, That all your world craves tidings of his doom.[21] Within, there is a lofty light, endow'd With sapience so profound, if truth be truth, That with a ken of such wide amplitude No second hath arisen. Next behold That taper's radiance,[22] to whose view was shown, Clearliest, the nature and the ministry Angelical, while yet in flesh it dwelt. In the other little light serenely smiles That pleader[23] for the Christian temples, he, Who did provide Augustin of his lore. Now, if thy mind's eye pass from light to light, Upon my praises following, of the eighth[24] Thy thirst is next. The saintly soul, that shows The world's deceitfulness, to all who hear him, Is, with the sight of all the good that is, Blest there. The limbs, whence it was driven, lie

[19: "Peter." Pietro Lombardo was of obscure origin, nor is the place of his birth in Lombardy ascertained. With a recommendation from the Bishop of Lucca to St. Bernard, he went into France to continue his studies; and for that purpose remained some time at Rheims, whence he proceeded to Paris. Here his reputation was so great that Philip, brother of Louis VII, being chosen Bishop of Paris, resigned that dignity to Pietro, whose pupil he had been. He held his bishopric only one year, and died 1160. His "Liber Sententiarum" is highly esteemed. It contains a system of scholastic theology, much more complete than any which had been yet seen.]

[20: "The fifth light." Solomon.]

[21: "His doom." It was a common question, it seems, whether Solomon were saved or no.]

[22: St. Dionysius, the Areopagite. "The famous Grecian fanatic, who gave himself out for Dionysius the Areopagite, disciple of St. Paul, and who, under the protection of this venerable name, gave laws and instructions to those that were desirous of raising their souls above all human things, in order to unite them to their great source by sublime contemplation, lived most probably in the fourth century." Maclaine's Mosheim.]

[23: "That pleader." In the fifth century, Paulus Orosius "acquired a considerable degree of reputation by the history he wrote to refute the cavils of the Pagans against Christianity, and by his books against the Pelagians and Priscillianists." Ibid.]

[24: Boetius, whose book "de Consolatione Philosophiae," excited so much attention during the Middle Ages, was born about 470. "In 524 he was cruelly put to death by Theodoric, either on real or pretended suspicion of his being engaged in a conspiracy." Della Lett. Ital.]

Down in Cieldauro;[25] and from martyrdom And exile came it here. Lo! further on, Where flames the arduous spirit of Isidore;[26] Of Bede;[27] and Richard,[28] more than man, erewhile, In deep discernment. Lastly this, from whom Thy look on me reverteth, was the beam Of one, whose spirit, on high musings bent, Rebuked the lingering tardiness of death. It is the eternal light of Sigebert[29] Who 'scaped not envy, when of truth he argued, Reading in the straw - litter'd street."[30] Forthwith, As clock, that calleth up the spouse of God[31] To win her Bridegroom's love at matin's hour, Each part of other fitly drawn and urged, Sends out a tinkling sound, of note so sweet, Affection springs in well - disposed breast; Thus saw I move the glorious wheel; thus heard Voice answering voice, so musical and soft, It can be known but where day endless shines.

[25: "Cieldauro." Boetius was buried at Pavia, in the monastery of St. Pietro in Ciel d'Oro.]

[26: He was Archbishop of Seville during forty years, and died in 635.]

[27: "Bede." Bede, whose virtues obtained him the appellation of the Venerable, was born in 672, at Wearmouth and Jarrow in the bishopric of Durham, and died at Jarrow in 735. Invited to Rome by Pope Sergius I, he preferred passing almost the whole of his life in the seclusion of a monastery.]

[28: Richard of St. Victor, a native either of Scotland or Ireland, was canon and prior of the monastery of that name at Paris; and died in 1173. "He was at the head of the Mystics in this century; and his treatise, entitled the "Mystical Ark," which contains as it were the marrow of this kind of theology, was received with the greatest avidity." Maclaine's Mosheim.]

[29: A monk of the Abbey of Gemblours, in high repute at the end of the eleventh, and beginning of the twelfth century.]

[30: The name of a street in Paris; the "Rue de Fouarre."]

[31: The Church.]

Paradise Canto 11

Canto XI

Argument

Thomas Aquinas enters at large into the life and character of St. Francis; and then solves one of two difficulties, which he perceived to have risen in Dante's mind from what he had heard in the last Canto.

O fond anxiety of mortal men! How vain and inconclusive arguments Are those, which make thee beat thy wings below. For statutes one, and one for aphorisms[1]

[1: The study of medicine.]

Was hunting; this the priesthood follow'd; that, By force or sophistry, aspired to rule; To rob, another; and another sought, By civil business, wealth; one, moiling, lay Tangled in net of sensual delight; And one to wistless indolence resign'd; What time from all these empty things escaped, With Beatrice, I thus gloriously Was raised aloft, and made the guest of Heaven.

They of the circle to that point, each one, Where erst it was, had turn'd; and steady glow'd, As candle in his socket. Then within The lustre,[2] that erewhile bespake me, smiling With merer gladness, heard I thus begin:

[2: The spirit of Thomas Aquinas.]

"E'en as His beam illumes me, so I look Into the Eternal Light, and clearly mark Thy thoughts, from whence they rise. Thou art in doubt, And wouldst, that I should bolt my words afresh In such plain open phrase, as may be smooth To thy perception, where I told thee late That 'well they thrive';[3] and that 'no second such[4] Hath risen,' which no small distinction needs.

[3: See the last Canto, v. 93.]

[4: See the last Canto, v. III.]

"The Providence, that governeth the world, In depth of counsel by created ken Unfathomable, to the end that she,[5] Who with loud cries was 'spoused in precious blood, Might keep her footing toward her well - beloved,[6] Safe in herself and constant unto Him, Hath two ordain'd, who should on either hand In chief escort her: one,[7] seraphic all In fervency; for wisdom upon earth, The other,[8] splendour of cherubic light. I but of one will tell: he tells of both, Who one commendeth, which of them soe'er Be taken: for their deeds were to one end.

[5: "She." The Church.]

[6: Jesus Christ.]

[7: "One." St. Francis.]

[8: "The other." St. Dominic.]

"Between Tupino,[9] and the wave that falls From blest Ubaldo's chosen hill, there hangs Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold[10] Are wafted through Perugia's eastern gate: And Nocera with Gualdo, in its rear, Mourn for their heavy yoke.[11] Upon that side, Where it doth break its steepness most, arose A sun upon the world, as duly this From Ganges doth: therefore let none, who speak Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name Were lamely so deliver'd; but the East, To call things rightly, be it henceforth styled. He was not yet much distant from his rising, When his good influence 'gan to bless the earth. A dame,[12] to whom none openeth pleasure's gate More than to death, was, 'gainst his father's will,[13] His stripling choice: and he did make her his, Before the spiritual court,[14] by nuptial bonds, And in his father's sight: from day to day, Then loved her more devoutly. She, bereaved Of her first Husband,[15] slighted and obscure, Thousand and hundred years and more, remain'd Without a single suitor, till he came. Nor aught avail'd, that, with Amyclas,[16] she Was found unmoved at rumour of his voice, Who shook the world: nor aught her constant boldness, Whereby with Christ she mounted on the Cross, When Mary stay'd beneath. But not to deal

[9: Thomas Aquinas describes the birthplace of St. Francis, between Tupino, a rivulet near Assisi, or Ascesi, where the saint was born in 1182, and Chiascio, a stream that rises in a mountain near Agobbio, chosen by St. Ubaldo for his retirement.]

[10: Cold from the snow, and heart from the reflection of the sun.]

[11: Vellutello understands this of the vicinity of the "mountain" to Nocera and Gualdo; and Venturi of the heavy impositions laid on those places by the Perugians.]

[12: In the under church of St. Francis, Assisi, is a picture painted by Giotto from this subject. It is considered one of the artist's best works. See Kugler's "Handbook of the History of Painting, translated by a lady." Lond. 1842, p. 48.]

[13: In opposition to the wishes of his natural father.]

[14: He made a vow of poverty in the presence of the bishop and of his natural father.]

[15: "Her first Husband." Christ.]

[16: Lucan makes Caesar exclaim, on witnessing the secure poverty of the fisherman Amyclas: -

"O happy poverty! thou greatest good Bestow'd by Heaven, but seldom understood! Here nor the cruel spoiler seeks his prey, Nor ruthless armies take their dreadful way." etc. - Rowe.]

Thus closely with thee longer, take at large The lovers' titles - Poverty and Francis. Their concord and glad looks, wonder and love, And sweet regard gave birth to holy thoughts, So much, that venerable Bernard[17] first Did bare his feet, and, in pursuit of peace So heavenly, ran, yet deem'd his footing slow. O hidden riches! O prolific good! Egidius[18] bares him next, and next Sylvester,[19] And follow, both, the bridegroom: so the bride Can please them. Thenceforth goes he on his way, The father and the master, with his spouse, And with that family, whom now the cord[20] Girt humbly: nor did abjectness of heart Weigh down his eyelids, for that he was son Of Pietro Bernardone,[21] and by men In wondrous sort despised. But royally His hard intention he to Innocent[22] Set forth; and, from him, first received the seal On his religion. Then, when numerous flock'd The tribe of lowly ones, that traced his steps, Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung In heights empyreal; through Honorius'[23] hand A second crown, to deck their Guardian's virtues, Was by the eternal Spirit inwreathed: and when He had, through thirst of martyrdom, stood up In the proud Soldan's presence,[24] and there preach'd Christ and His followers, but found the race Unripen'd for conversion; back once more He hasted (not to intermit his toil) And reap'd Ausonian lands. On the hard rock,[25]

[17: Of Quintavalle; one of the first followers of the saint.]

[18: "Egidius." The third of his disciples, who died in 1262. His work, entitled "Verba Aurea," was published in 1534, at Antwerp.]

[19: Another of his earliest associates.]

[20: "Whom now the cord." St. Francis bound his body with a cord, in sign that it required, like a beast, to be led by a halter.]

[21: A man in an humble station of life at Assisi.]

[22: Pope Innocent III.]

[23: "Honorius." His successor Honorius III, who granted certain privileges to the Franciscans.]

[24: The Soldan of Egypt, before whom St. Francis is said to have preached.]

[25: Mt. Alverna in the Apennines.]

'Twixt Arno and the Tiber, he from Christ Took the last signet,[26] which his limbs two years Did carry. Then, the season come that He, Who to such good had destined him, was pleased To advanced him to the meed, which he had earn'd By his self - humbling; to his brotherhood, As their just heritage, he gave in charge His dearest lady:[27] and enjoin'd their love And faith to her; and, from her bosom, will'd His goodly spirit should move forth, returning To its appointed kingdom; nor would have His body[28] laid upon another bier.

[26: "The last signet." Alluding to the stigmata, or marks resembling the wounds of Christ, said to have been found on the saint's body.]

[27: "His dearest lady." Poverty.]

[28: He forbade any funeral pomp to be observed at his burial; and, as it is said, ordered that his remains should be deposited in a place where criminals were executed and interred.]

"Think now of one, who were a fit colleague To keep the bark of Peter, in deep sea, Helm'd to right point; and such our Patriarch[29] was. Therefore who follow him as he enjoins, Thou mayst be certain, take good lading in. But hunger of new viands tempts his flock;[30] So that they needs into strange pastures wide Must spread them: and the more remote from him The stragglers wander, so much more they come Home, to the sheep - fold, destitute of milk. There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm, And to the shepherd cleave; but these so few, A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks.

[29: St. Dominic, to whose order Thomas Aquinas belonged.]

[30: "His flock." The Dominicans.]

"Now, if my words be clear; if thou have ta'en Good heed; if that, which I have told, recall To mind; thy wish may be in part fulfill'd: For thou wilt see the plant from whence they split;[31] And he shall see, who girds him, what that means, 'That well they thrive, not swoln with vanity.'"

[31: "The rule of their order, which the Dominicans neglect to observe."]

Paradise Canto 12

Canto XII

Argument

A second circle of glorified souls encompasses the first. Buonaventura, who is one of them, celebrates the praises of St. Dominic, and informs Dante who the other eleven are, that are in this second circle of garland.

Soon as its final word the blessed flame[1] Had raised for utterance, straight the holy mill[2] Began to wheel; nor yet had once revolved, Or e'er another, circling, compass'd it, Motion to motion, song to song, conjoining; Song, that as much our muses doth excel, Our Syrens with their tuneful pipes, as ray Of primal splendour doth its faint reflex.

[1: Thomas Aquinas.]

[2: The circle of spirits.]

As when, if Juno bid her handmaid forth, Two arches parallel, and trick'd alike, Span the thin cloud, the outer taking birth From that within (in manner of that voice[3] Whom love did melt away, as sun the mist), And they who gaze, presageful call to mind The compact, made with Noah, of the world No more to be o'erflow'd; about us thus, Of sempiternal roses, bending, wreathed Those garlands twain; and to the innermost E'en thus the external answer'd. When the footing, And other great festivity, of song, And radiance, light with light accordant, each Jocund and blythe, had at their pleasure still'd, (E'en as the eyes, by quick volition moved, Are shut and raised together), from the heart Of one[4] amongst the new lights[5] moved a voice,

[3: One rainbow giving back the image of the other, as sound is reflected by Echo, that nymph, who was melted away by her fondness for Narcissus, as vapor is melted by the sun. The reader will observe in the text not only a second and third simile within the first, but two mythological and one sacred allusion bound up together with the whole. Even after his accumulation of imagery, the two circles of spirits, by whom Beatrice and Dante were encompassed, are by a bold figure termed two garlands of neverfading roses.]

[4: "One." St. Buonaventura, general of the Franciscan order, in which he effected some reformation; and one of the most profound divines of his age. "He refused the archbishopric of York, which was offered him by Clement IV, but afterward was prevailed on to accept the bishopric of Albano and a cardinal's hat. He was born at Bagnoregio or Bagnorea, in Tuscany, A. D. 1221, and died in 1274." Dict. Histor, par Chaudon et Delandine, Ed. Lyon. 1804.]

[5: In the circle that had newly surrounded the first.]

That made me seem[6] like needle to the star, In turning to its whereabout; and thus Began: "The love,[7] that makes me beautiful, Prompts me to tell of the other guide, for whom Such good of mine is spoken. Where one is, The other worthily should also be; That as their warfare was alike, alike Should be their glory. Slow, and full of doubt, And with thin ranks, after its banner moved The army of Christ, (which it so dearly cost To reappoint), when its imperial Head Who reigneth ever, for the drooping host Did make provision, through grace alone, And not through its deserving. As thou heard'st,[8] Two champions to the succour of His spouse He sent, who by their deeds and words might join Again His scatter'd people. In that clime,[9] Where springs the pleasant west - wind to unfold The fresh leaves, with which Europe sees herself New - garmented; nor from those billows[10] far, Beyond whose chiding, after weary course, The sun doth sometimes[11] hide him; safe abides The happy Callaroga,[12] under guard Of the great shield, wherein the lion lies Subjected and supreme. And there was born The loving minion of the Christian faith,[13] The hallow'd wrestler, gentle to his own,

[6: "That made me turn to it, as the needle does to the pole."]

[7: "The love." By an act of mutual courtesy, Bounaventura, a Franciscan, is made to proclaim the praises of St. Dominic, as Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican, has celebrated those of St. Francis; and in like manner each blames the irregularities, not of the other's order, but of that to which himself belonged. Even Macchiavelli, no great friend to the Church, attributes the revival of Christianity to the influence of these two saints.]

[8: See the last Canto, v. 33.]

[9: "In that clime." Spain.]

[10: "Those billows." The Atlantic.]

[11: During the summer solstice.]

[12: "Callaroga." Between Osma and Aranda, in Old Castile designated by the royal coat - of - arms.]

[13: Dominic was born April 5, 1170, and died August 6, 1221. His birthplace Callaroga; his father and mother's names. Felix, and Joanna; his mother's dream; his name of Dominic, given him in consequence of a vision by his godmother, are all told in an anonymous life of the saint, said to have been written in the thirteenth century.]

And to his enemies terrible. So replete His soul with lively virtue, that when first Created, even in the mother's womb,[14] It prophesied. When, at the sacred font, The spousals were complete 'twixt faith and him, Where pledge of mutual safety was exchanged, The dame,[15] who was his surety, in her sleep Beheld the wondrous fruit, that was from him And from his heirs to issue. And that such He might be construed, as indeed he was, She was inspired to name him of his owner, Whose he was wholly; and so call'd him Dominic. And I speak of him, as the labourer, Whom Christ in His own garden chose to be His help - mate. Messenger he seem'd, and friend Fast - knit to Christ; and the first love he show'd, Was after the first counsel[16] that Christ gave. Many a time[17] his nurse, at entering, found That he had risen in silence, and was prostrate, As who should say, 'My errand was for this,' O happy father! Felix[18] rightly named. O favour'd mother! rightly named Joanna; If that do mean, as men interpret it.[19] Not for the world's sake, for which now they toil Upon Ostiense[20] and Taddeo's[21] lore; But for the real manna, soon he grew Mighty in learning; and did set himself

[14: His mother, when pregnant with him, is said to have dreamt that she should bring forth a white and black dog with a lighted torch in his mouth, which were signs of the habit to be worn by his order, and of his fervent zeal.]

[15: His godmother's dream was, that he had one star in his forehead and another in the nape of his neck, from which he communicated light to the east and the west.]

[16: "Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come and follow me." - Matt. xix. 21. Dominic is said to have followed this advice.]

[17: His nurse, when she returned to him, often found that he had left his bed, and was prostrate, and in prayer.]

[18: "Felix." Felix Gusman.]

[19: Grace or gift of the Lord.]

[20: Arrigo (about 1250 A. D.), a native of Susa, and cardinal of Ostia and Velletri, hence his name of Ostiense, was celebrated for his lectures on the Decretals.]

[21: "Taddeo. Either the physician or the lawyer of that name. The former, T. d' Alderotto, a Florentine, called the Hippocratean, translated the Ethics of Aristotle into Latin; and died toward the end of the thirteenth century. The other, of Bologna, left no writings behind him.]

To go about the vineyard, that soon turns To wan and wither'd, if not tended well: And from the see[22] (whose bounty to the just And needy is gone by, not through its fault, But his who fills it basely), he besought, No dispensation[23] for commuted wrong, Nor the first vacant fortune,[24] nor the tenths That to God's paupers rightly appertain, But, 'gainst an erring and degenerate world, License to fight, in favour of that seed[25] From which the twice twelve cions gird thee round. Then, with sage doctrine and good will to help, Forth on his great apostleship he fared, Like torrent bursting from a lofty vein; And, dashing 'gainst the stocks of heresy, Smote fiercest, where resistance was most stout. Thence many rivulets have since been turn'd, Over the garden catholic to lead Their living waters, and have fed its plants.

[22: "The apostolic see, which no longer continues its wonted liberality toward the indigent and deserving; not indeed through its own fault, as its doctrines are still the same, but through the fault of the pontiff, who is seated in it."]

[23: Dominic did not ask for license to compound for the use of unjust acquisitions by dedicating a part of them to pious purposes.]

[24: The first benefice that fell vacant.]

[25: "For that seed of the divine Word, from which have sprung up these four - and - twenty plants, these holy spirits that now environ thee."]

"If such, one wheel[26] of that two - yoked car, Wherein the holy Church defended her, And rode triumphant through the civil broil; Thou canst not doubt its fellow's excellence, Which Thomas,[27] ere my coming, hath declared So courteously unto thee. But the track,[28] Which its smooth fellies made, is now deserted: That, mouldy mother is, where late were less. His family, that wont to trace his path, Turn backward, and invert their steps; erelong To rue the gathering in of their ill crop, When the rejected tares[29] in vain shall ask

[26: Dominic; as the other wheel is Francis.]

[27: "Thomas." Thomas Aquinas.]

[28: "But the track." "But the rule of St. Francis is already deserted; and the lees of the wine are turned into mouldiness."]

[29: "Tares." He adverts to the parable of the tares and the wheat.]

Admittance to the barn. I question not[30] But he, who search'd our volume, leaf by leaf, Might still find page with this inscription on't, "I am as I was wont." Yet such were not From Acquasparta nor Casale, whence, Of those who come to meddle with the text, One stretches and another cramps its rule. Bonaventura's life in me behold, From Bagnoregio; one, who, in discharge Of my great offices, still laid aside All sinister aim. Illuminato here, And Agostino[31] join me: two they were, Among the first of those barefooted meek ones, Who sought God's friendship in the cord: with them Hugues of Saint Victor,[32] Pietro Mangiadore;[33] And he of Spain[34] in his twelve volumes shining; Nathan the prophet; Metropolitan Chrysostom;[35] and Anselmo;[36] and, who deign'd To put his hand to the first art, Donatus.

[30: "I question not." "Some indeed might be found, who still observe the rule of the order; but such would come neither from Casale nor Acquasparta." At Casale, in Monferrat, the discipline had been enforced by Uberto with unnecessary rigor; and at Acquasparta, in the territory of Todi, it had been equally relaxed by the Cardinal Matteo, general of the order.]

[31: Two among the earliest followers of St. Francis.]

[32: "Hugues of Saint Victor." He was of the monastery of St. Victor at Paris, and died in 1142, at the age of forty - four. His ten books, illustrative of the celestial hierarchy of Dionysius the Areopagite, according to the translation of Joannes Scotus, are inscribed to King Louis, son of Louis le Gros, by whom the monastery had been founded.]

[33: "Pietro Mangiadore." Petrus Comestor, or the Eater, born at Troyes, was canon and dean of that church, and afterward chancellor of the church of Paris. He relinquished these benefices to become a regular canon of St. Victor at Paris, where he died in 1198.]

[34: To Pope Adrian V succeeded John XXI, a native of Lisbon; a man of great genius and extraordinary acquirements, especially in logic and in medicine, as his books, written in the name of Peter of Spain, (by which he was known before he became Pope), may testify. He was killed at Viterbo, by the falling in of the roof of his chamber, after he had been pontiff only eight months and as many days, A. D. 1277.]

[35: "Chrysostom." The eloquent Patriarch of Constantinople.]

[36: Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, was born at Aosta, about 1034, and studied under Lanfranc, at the monastery of Bec in Normandy, where he afterward devoted himself to a religious life, in his twenty - seventh year. In three years he was made prior, and then abbot of that monastery; from whence he was taken, in 1093, to succeed to.the archbishopric, vacant by the death of Lanfranc. He enjoyed this dignity till his death in 1109, though it was disturbed by many dissensions with William II and Henry I respecting immunities and investitures.]

Raban[37] is here; and at my side there shines Calabria's abbot, Joachim,[38] endow'd With soul prophetic. The bright courtesy Of friar Thomas and his goodly lore, Have moved me to the blazon of a peer[39] So worthy; and with me have moved this throng."

[37: Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mentz, 847, is placed at the head of the Latin writers of this age.]

[38: Abbot of Flora in Calabria; whom the multitude revered as divinely inspired, and equal to the most illustrious prophets of ancient times.]

[39: "A Peer." St. Dominic.]

Paradise Canto 13

Canto XIII

Argument

Thomas Aquinas resumes his speech. He solves the other of those doubts which he discerned in the mind of Dante, and warns him earnestly against assenting to any proposition without having duly examined it.

Let him,[1] who would conceive what now I saw, Imagine, (and retain the image firm As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak,) Of stars, fifteen, from midst the ethereal host Selected that, with lively ray serene, O'ercome the massiest air: thereto imagine The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky, Spins ever on its axle night and day, With the bright summit of that horn, which swells Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls, To have ranged themselves in fashion of two signs In Heaven, such as Ariadne made, When death's chill seized her; and that one of them Did compass in the other's beam; and both In such sort whirl around, that each should tend With opposite motion; and, conceiving thus, Of that true constellation, and the dance Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain As 'twere the shadow; for things there as much Surpass our usage, as the swiftest Heaven Is swifter than the Chiana.[2] There was sung

[1: "Let him." "Whoever would conceive the sight that now presented itself to me, must imagine to himself fifteen of the brightest stars in heaven, together with seven stars of Arcturus Major and two of Arcturus Minor, ranged in two circles, one within the other, each resembling the crown of Ariadne, and moving round in opposite directions."]

[2: See Hell, Canto xxix. 45.]

No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one Person that nature and the human join'd.

The song and round were measured: and to us Those saintly lights attended, happier made At each new ministering. Then silence brake Amid the accordant sons of Deity, That luminary,[3] in which the wondrous life Of the meek man of God[4] was told to me; And thus it spake: "One ear[5] o' the harvest thresh'd, And its grain safely stored, sweet charity Invites me with the other to like toil.

[3: Thomas Aquinas.]

[4: St. Francis. See Canto xi. 25.]

[5: Having solved one of thy questions, I proceed to answer the other. Thou thinkest then that Adam and Christ were both endued with all the perfection of which the human nature is capable; and therefore wonderest at what has been said concerning Solomon."]

"Thou know'st, that in the bosom,[6] whence the rib Was ta'en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste All the world pays for; and in that, which pierced By the keen lance, both after and before Such satisfaction offer'd as outweighs Each evil in the scale; whate'er of light To human nature is allow'd, must all Have by His virtue been infused, who form'd Both one and other: and thou thence admirest In that I told thee, of beatitudes, A second there is none to him enclosed In the fifth radiance. Open now thine eyes To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth, As centre in the round. That[7] which dies not, And that which can die, are but each the beam Of that idea, which our Sovereign Sire Engendereth loving; for that lively light,[8]

[6: Thou knowest that in the breast of Adam, whence the rib was taken to make that fair cheek of Eve, which, by tasting the apple, brought death into the world; and also in the breast of Christ, which, being pierced by the lance, made satisfaction for the sins of the whole world; as much wisdom resided, as human nature was capable of: and thou dost therefore wonder that I should have spoken of Solomon as the wisest." See Canto x. 105.]

[7: "That." Things, corruptible and incorruptible, are only emanations from the archetypal idea residing in the Divine Mind.]

[8: The Word; the Son of God.]

Which passeth from His splendour, not disjoin'd From Him, nor from His love triune with them,[9] Doth, through His bounty, congregate itself, Mirror'd, as 'twere, in new existences;[10] Itself unalterable, and ever one.

[9: "His love triune with them." The Holy Ghost.]

[10: Angels and human souls.]

"Descending hence unto the lowest powers,[11] Its energy so sinks, at last it makes But brief contingencies; for so I name Things generated, which the heavenly orbs Moving, with seed or without seed, produce. Their wax, and that which moulds it,[12] differ much: And thence with lustre, more or less, it shows The ideal stamp imprest: so that one tree, According to his kind, hath better fruit, And worse: and, at your birth, ye, mortal men, Are in your talents various. Were the wax Moulded with nice exactness, and the heaven[13] In its disposing influence supreme, The brightness of the seal[14] should be complete: But nature renders it imperfect ever; Resembling thus the artist, in his work, Whose faltering hand is faithless to his skill. Therefore,[15] if fervent Love dispose, and mark The lustrous Image of the primal Virtue, There all perfection is vouchsafed; and such The clay[16] was made, accomplish'd with each gift, That life can teem with; such the burden fill'd The Virgin's bosom: so that I commend Thy judgment, that the human nature ne'er Was, or can be, such as in them it was.

[11: Irrational life and brute matter.]

[12: "Their wax, and that which moulds it." Matter, and the virtue or energy that acts on it.]

[13: "The heaven." The influence of the planetary bodies.]

[14: The brightness of the Divine idea before spoken of.]

[15: "Therefore." Daniello remarks that our Poet intends this for a brief description of the Trinity: the primal virtue signifying the Father; the lustrous image, the Son; the fervent love, the Holy Ghost.]

[16: "The clay." Adam.]

"Did I advance no further than this point; 'How then had he no peer?' thou might'st reply. But, that what now appears not, may appear

Right plainly, ponder, who he was, and what (When he was bidden 'Ask') the motive, sway'd To his requesting. I have spoken thus, That thou mayst see, he was a king, who ask'd[17] For wisdom, to the end he might be king Sufficient: not, the number to search out Of the celestial movers; or to know, If necessary with contingent e'er Have made necessity; or whether that Be granted, that first motion[18] is; or if, Of the mid - circle,[19] can by art be made Triangle, with its corner blunt or sharp.

[17: "Who ask'd." "He did not desire to know the number of the celestial intelligences, or to pry into the subtleties of logical, metaphysical, or mathematical science: but asked for that wisdom which might fit him for his kingly office."]

[18: "That first motion." "If we must allow one first motion, which is not caused by other motion; a question resolved affirmatively by metaphysics, according to that principle, repugnant in causis processus in infinitum." Lombardi.]

[19: "Of the mid - circle." "If in the half of the circle a rectilinear triangle can be described, one side of which shall be the diameter of the same circle, without its forming a right angle with the other two sides; which geometry shows to be impossible." Lombardi.]

"Whence, noting that, which I have said, and this, Thou kingly prudence and that ken mayst learn, At which the dart of my intention aims. And, marking clearly, that I told thee, 'Risen,' Thou shalt discern it only hath respect To kings, of whom are many, and the good Are rare. With this distinction take my words; And they may well consist with that which thou Of the first human father dost believe, And of our well - beloved. And let this Henceforth be lead unto thy feet, to make Thee slow in motion, as a weary man, Both to the 'yea' and to the 'nay' thou seest not. For he among the fools is down full low, Whose affirmation, or denial, is Without distinction, in each case alike. Since it befalls, that in most instances Current opinion leans to false: and then Affection bends the judgment to her ply.

"Much more than vainly doth he loose from shore,

Since he returns not such as he set forth, Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill. And open proofs of this unto the world Have been afforded in Parmenides, Melissus, Bryso,[20] and the crowd beside, Who journey'd on, and knew not whither: so did Sabellius, Arius,[21] and the other fools, Who, like to scimitars,[22] reflected back The scripture - image by distortion marr'd.

[20: "_____ Parmenides, Melissus, Bryso." For the singular opinions entertained by the two former of these heathen philosophers, see Diogenes Laertius, lib. ix.]

[21: "Sabellius, Arius." Well - known heretics.]

[22: "Scrimitars." Bertradon de la Brocquiere, who wrote before Dante, informs us that the wandering Arabs used their scimitars as mirrors.]

"Let not the people be too swift to judge; As one who reckons on the blades in field, Or e'er the crop be ripe. For I have seen The thorn frown rudely all the winter long, And after bear the rose upon its top; And bark, that all her way across the sea Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last E'en in the haven's mouth. Seeing one steal, Another bring his offering to the priest, Let not[23] Dame Birtha and Sir Martin[24] thence Into Heaven's counsels deem that they can pry; For one of these may rise, the other fall."

[23: "Let not." "Let not shortsighted mortals presume to decide on the future doom of any man, from a consideration of his present character and actions." This is meant as an answer to the doubts entertained respecting the salvation of Solomon. See Canto x. 107.]

[24: "Dame Birtha and Sir Martin." Names put generally for persons who have more curiosity than discretion.]

Paradise Canto 14

Canto XIV

Argument

Solomon, who is one of the spirits in the inner circle, declares what the appearance of the blest will be after the resurrection of the body. Beatrice and Dante are translated into the fifth heaven, which is that of Mars; and here behold the souls of those, who had died fighting for the true faith, ranged in the sign of the cross, athwart which the spirits move to the sound of a melodious hymn.

From centre to the circle, and so back From circle to the centre, water moves In the round chalice, even as the blow Impels it, inwardly, or from without. Such was the image[1] glanced into my mind, As the great spirit of Aquinum ceased; And Beatrice, after him, her words Resumed alternate: "Need there is (though yet He tells it to you not in words, nor e'en In thought) that he should fathom to its depth Another mystery. Tell him, if the light, Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you Eternally, as now; and, if it doth, How, when[2] ye shall regain your visible forms, The sight may without harm endure the change, That also tell." As those, who in a ring Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound; Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit, The saintly circles, in their tourneying And wondrous note, attested new delight.

[1: The voice of Thomas Aquinas proceeding from the circle to the centre; and that of Beatrice, from the centre to the circle.]

[2: "When." When ye shall be again clothed with your bodies at the resurrection.]

Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live Immortally above; he hath not seen The sweet refreshing of that heavenly shower.[3]

[3: That effusion of beatific light.]

Him, who lives ever, and forever reigns In mystic union of the three in one, Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice Sang, with such melody, as, but to hear, For highest merit were an ample meed.

And from the lesser orb the goodliest light,[4] With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps The Angel's once to Mary, thus replied: "Long as the joy of Paradise shall last, Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright As fervent; fervent as, in vision, blest; And that as far, in blessedness, exceeding, As it hath grace, beyond its virtue, great. Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire, Show yet more gracious. Therefore shall increase Whate'er, of light, gratuitous imparts The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid, The better to disclose His glory; whence, The vision needs increasing, must increase The fervour, which it kindles; and that too The ray, that comes from it. But as the gleed Which gives out flame, yet in its whiteness shines More livelily than that, and so preserves Its proper semblance; thus this circling sphere Of splendour shall to view less radiant seem, Than shall our fleshly robe, which yonder earth Now covers. Nor will such excess of light O'erpowtr us, in corporeal organs made Firm, and susceptible of all delight."

[4: "The goodliest light." Solomon.]

So ready and so cordial an "Amen" Follow'd from either choir, as plainly spoke Desire of their dead bodies; yet perchance Not for themselves, but for their kindred dear, Mothers and sires, and those whom best they loved, Ere they were made imperishable flame.

And lo! forthwith there rose up round about A lustre, over that already there; Of equal clearness, like the brightening up Of the horizon. As at evening hour Of twilight, new appearances through Heaven Peer with faint glimmer, doubtfully descried; So, there, new substances, methought, began To rise in view beyond the other twain,

And wheeling, sweep their ampler circuit wide.

O genuine glitter of eternal Beam! With what a sudden whiteness did it flow, O'erpowering vision in me. But so fair, So passing lovely, Beatrice show'd, Mind cannot follow it, nor words express Her infinite sweetness. Thence mine eyes regain'd Power to look up; and I beheld myself, Sole with my lady, to more lofty bliss[5] Translated: for the star, with warmer smile Impurpled, well denoted our ascent.

[5: "To more lofty bliss." To the planet Mars.]

With all the heart, and with that tongue which speaks The same in all, an holocaust I made To God, befitting the new grace vouchsafed. And from my bosom had not yet upsteam'd The fuming of that incense, when I knew The rite accepted. With such mighty sheen And mantling crimson, in two listed rays The splendours shot before me, that I cried, "God of Sabaoth! that dost prank them thus!"

As leads the galaxy from pole to pole, Distinguish'd into greater lights and less, Its pathway, which the wisest fail to spell; So thickly studded, in the depth of Mars, Those rays described the venerable sign, That quadrants in the round conjoining frame.

Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ Beam'd on that cross; and pattern fails me now. But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ, Will pardon me for that I leave untold, When in the flecker'd dawning he shall spy The glitterance of Christ. From horn to horn, And 'tween the summit and the base, did move Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass'd. Thus oft are seen with ever - changeful glance, Straight or athwart, now rapid and now slow, The atomies of bodies, long or short, To move along the sunbeam, whose slant line Checkers the shadow interposed by art

Against the noontide heat. And as the chime Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and harp With many strings, a pleasant dinning makes To him, who heareth not distinct the note; So from the lights, which there appear'd to me, Gather'd along the cross a melody, That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment Possess'd me. Yet I mark'd it was a hymn Of lofty praises; for there came to me "Arise," and "Conquer," as to one who hears And comprehends not. Me such ecstasy O'ercame, that never, till that hour, was thing That held me in so sweet imprisonment.

Perhaps my saying overbold appears, Accounting less the pleasure of those eyes, Whereon to look fulfilleth all desire. But he, who is aware those living seals Of every beauty work with quicker force, The higher they are risen; and that there I had not turn'd me to them; he may well Excuse me that, whereof in my excuse I do accuse me, and may own my truth; That holy pleasure here not yet reveal'd Which grows in transport as we mount aloof.

Paradise Canto 15

Canto XV

Argument

The spirit of Cacciaguida, our Poet's ancestor, glides rapidly to the foot of the cross; tells who he is; and speaks of the simplicity of the Florentines in his days, since then much corrupted.

True love, that ever shows itself as clear In kindness, as loose appetite in wrong, Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still'd The sacred cords, that are by Heaven's right hand Unwound and tighten'd. How to righteous prayers Should they not hearken, who, to give me will For praying, in accordance thus were mute? He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief, Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not, Despoils himself forever of that love.

As oft along the still and pure serene, At nightfall, glides a sudden trail of fire, Attracting with involuntary heed The eye to follow it, erewhile at rest; And seems some star that shifted place in Heaven, Only that, whence it kindles, none is lost, And it is soon extinct: thus from the horn, That on the dexter of the cross extends, Down to its foot, one luminary ran From mid the cluster shone there; yet no gem Dropp'd from its foil: and through the beamy list, Like flame in alabaster, glow'd its course.

So forward stretch'd him (if of credence aught Our greater muse may claim) the pious ghost Of old Anchises, in the Elysian bower, When he perceived his son. "O thou, my blood! O most exceeding grace divine! to whom, As now to thee, hath twice the heavenly gate Been e'er unclosed?" So spake the light: whence I Turn'd me toward him; then unto my dame My sight directed: and on either side Amazement waited me; for in her eyes Was lighted such a smile, I thought that mine Had dived unto the bottom of my grace And of my bliss in Paradise. Forthwith, To hearing and to sight grateful alike, The spirit to his proem added things I understood not, so profound he spake: Yet not of choice, but through necessity, Mysterious; for his high conception soar'd Beyond the mark of mortals. When the flight Of holy transport had so spent its rage, That nearer to the level of our thought The speech descended; the first sounds I heard Were, "Blest be thou, Triunal Deity! That hast such favour in my seed vouchsafed." Then follow'd. "No unpleasant thirst, though long, Which took me reading in the sacred book, Whose leaves or white or dusky never change, Thou hast allay'd, my son! within this light, From whence my voice thou hear'st: more thanks to her, Who, for such lofty mounting, has with plumes Begirt thee. Thou dost deem thy thoughts to me From Him transmitted, who is first of all, E'en as all numbers ray from unity; And therefore dost not ask me who I am, Or why to thee more joyous I appear, Than any other in this gladsome throng. The truth is as thou deem'st; for in this life Both less and greater in that Mirror look, In which thy thoughts, or e'er thou think'st, are shown. But, that the love, which keeps me wakeful ever, Urging with sacred thirst of sweet desire, May be contented fully; let thy voice, Fearless, and frank, and jocund, utter forth Thy will distinctly, utter forth the wish, Whereto my ready answer stands decreed."

I turn'd me to Beatrice; and she heard Ere I had spoken, smiling an assent, That to my will gave wings; and I began: "To each among your tribe, what time ye kenn'd The nature, in whom naught unequal dwells, Wisdom and love were in one measure dealt; For that they are so equal in the Sun, From whence ye drew your radiance and your heat, As makes all likeness scant. But will and means, In mortals, for the cause ye well discern, With unlike wings are fledged. A mortal, I Experience inequality like this; And therefore give no thanks, but in the heart, For thy paternal greeting. This howe'er I pray thee, living topaz! that ingemm'st This precious jewel; let me hear thy name."

"I am thy root,[1] O leaf! whom to expect Even, hath pleased me." Thus the prompt reply Prefacing, next it added: "He, of whom[2]

[1: "I am thy root." Cacciaguida, father to Alighieri, of whom our Poet was the great - grandson.]

[2: "He, of whom." "Thy great - grandfather, Alighieri, has been in the first round of Purgatory more than a hundred years; and it is fit that thou by thy good deserts shouldst endeavor to shorten the time of his remaining there." His son Bellincione was living in 1266; and of him was born the father of our Poet, whom Benvenuto da Imola calls a lawyer by profession.]

Thy kindred appellation comes, and who, These hundred years and more, on its first ledge Hath circuited the mountain, was my son, And thy great - grandsire. Well befits, his long Endurance should he shorten'd by thy deeds.

"Florence, within her ancient limit - mark, Which calls her still[3] to matin prayers and noon, Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace. She had no armlets and no head - tires then; No purfled dames; no zone, the caught the eye More than the person did. Time was not yet, When[4] at his daughter's birth the sire grew pale, For fear the age and dowry should exceed, On each side, just proportion. House was none Void[5] of its family: nor yet had come Sardanapalus,[6] to exhibit feats Of chamber prowess. Montemalo[7] yet O'er our suburban turret[8] rose; as much To be surpass in fall, as in its rising. I saw Bellincion Berti[9] walk abroad In leathern girdle, and a clasp of bone; And, with no artful colouring on her cheeks,

[3: The public clock being still within the circuit of the ancient walls.]

[4: When the women were not married at too early an age, and did not expect too large a portion.]

[5: Through the civil wars and banishments. Or he may mean that houses were not formerly built merely for show, nor of greater size than was necessary for containing the families that inhabited them.]

[6: The luxurious monarch of Assyria.]

[7: Either an elevated spot between Rome and Viterbo; or Monte Mario, the site of the villa Mellini, commanding a view of Rome.]

[8: Uccellatojo, near Florence, whence that city was discovered. Florence had not yet vied with Rome in the grandeur of her public buildings.]

[9: "Bellincion Berti." Hell, Canto xvi. 38, and notes. "And observe that in the time of the said people (A. D. 1259), and before and for a long time after, the citizens of Florence lived soberly, on coarse viands, and at little cost, and in many customs and courtesies of life were rude and unpolished; and dressed themselves and their women in coarse cloths: many wore plain leather, without cloth over it; bonnets on their heads; and all, boots on the feet; and the Florentine women were without ornament; the better sort content with a close gown of scarlet cloth of Ypres or of camlet, bound with a girdle in the ancient mode, and a mantle lined with fur, and a hood to it, which was worn on the head; the common sort of women were clad in a coarse gown of Cambrai in like manner . . . and with their coarse way of living and poverty [the Florentines] did greater and more virtuous deeds than have been done in our times with greater refinement and wealth." - G. Villani, lib. vi. c. lxxi.]

His lady leave the glass. The sons I saw Of Nerli, and of Vecchio,[10] well content With unrobed jerkin; and their good dames handling The spindle and the flax: O happy they! Each[11] sure of burial in her native land, And none left desolate a - bed for France. One waked to tend the cradle, hushing it With sounds that lull'd the parent's infancy: Another, with her maidens, drawing off The tresses from the distaff, lectured them Old tales of Troy, and Fesole, and Rome. A Salterello and Cianghella[12] we Had held a strange a marvel, as ye would A Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.

[10: Two opulent families in Florence.]

[11: "Each." "None fearful either of dying in banishment, or of being deserted by her husband on a scheme of traffic in France."]

[12: The latter of shameless woman of the family of Tosa, married to Lito degli Alidosi of Imola: the former Lapo Salterello, a lawyer, with whom Dante was at variance. "We should have held an abandoned character, like these, as a great wonder, as ye would the contrary now."]

"In such composed and seemly fellowship, Such faithful and such fair equality, In so sweet household, Mary[13] at my birth Bestow'd me, call'd on with loud cries; and there, In your old baptistery, I was made Christian at once and Cacciaguida; as were My brethren, Eliseo and Moronto.

[13: "Mary." The Virgin was invoked in the pains of child - birth. Purgatory, Canto xx.21.]

"From Valdipado[14] came to me my spouse; And hence thy surname grew. I follow'd then The Emperor Conrad:[15] and his knighthood he Did gird on me; in such a good part he took My valiant service. After him I went To testify against that evil law, Whose people,[16] by the Shepherd's fault, possess Your right usurp'd. There I by that foul crew Was disentangled from the treacherous world

[14: Cacciaguida's wife, whose family name was Alighieri, came from Ferrara, called Val di Pado, from its being watered by the Po.]

[15: "Conrad." The Emperor Conrad III, who died in 1152.]

[16: The Mohammedans, who were left in the possession of the Holy Land, through the supineness of the Pope. See Canto iv. 123.]

Whose base affection many a spirit soils; And from the martyrdom came to this peace."

Paradise Canto 16

Canto XVI

Argument

Cacciaguida relates the time of his birth; and, describing the extent of Florence when he lived there, recounts the names of the chief families who then inhabited it. Its degeneracy, and subsequent disgrace, he attributes to the introduction of families from the neighboring country and villages, and to their mixture with the primitive citizens.

O slight respect of man's nobility! I never shall account it marvellous, That our infirm affection here below Thou movest to boasting; when I could not chuse, E'en in that region of unwarp'd desire, In Heaven itself, but make my vaunt in thee. Yet cloak thou art soon shorten'd; for that Time, Unless thou be eked out from day to day, Goes round thee with his shears. Resuming then, With greeting[1] such as Rome was first to bear, But since hath disaccustom'd, I began: And Beatrice, that a little space Was sever'd, smiled; reminding me of her, Whose cough embolden'd (as the story holds) To first offence the doubting Guenever.[2]

[1: "With greeting." The Poet, who had addressed the spirit, not knowing him to be his ancestor, with a plain "Thou," now uses more ceremony, and calls him "You," according to a custom of the Romans in the latter times of the empire.]

[2: Beatrice's smile reminded him of the female servant who, by her coughing, emboldened Queen Guenever to encourage Lancelot. See Hell, Canto v. 124.]

"You are my sire," said I: "you give me heart Freely to speak my thought: above myself You raise me. Through so many streams with joy My soul is fill'd, that gladness wells from it; So that it bears the mighty tide, and bursts not. Say then, my honour'd stem! what ancestors Were those you sprang from, and what years were mark'd In your first childhood? Tell me of the fold,[3] That hath Saint John for guardian, what was then Its state, and who in it were highest seated!"

[3: Florence, of which John the Baptist was the patron saint.]

As embers, at the breathing of the wind, Their flame enliven; so that light I saw Shine at my blandishments; and, as it grew More fair to look on, so with voice more sweet, Yet not in this our modern phrase, forthwith It answer'd: "From the day,[4] when it was said 'Hail Virgin!' to the throes by which my mother, Who now is sainted, lighten'd her of me Whom she was heavy with, this fire had come Five hundred times and fourscore, to relume Its radiance underneath the burning foot Of its own lion. They, of whom I sprang, And I, had there our birth - place, where the last[5] Partition of our city first if reach'd By him that runs her annual game. Thus much Suffice of my forefathers: who they were, And whence they hither came, more honourable It is to pass in silence than to tell. All those, who at that time were there, betwixt Mars and the Baptist, fit to carry arms, Were but the fifth of them this day alive. But then the citizen's blood, that now is mix'd From Campi and Certaldo and Fighine,[6] Ran purely through the last mechanic's veins. O how much better were it, that these people[7] Were neighbours to you; and that at Galluzzo And at Trespiano ye should have your boundary; Than to have them within, and bear the stench Of Aguglione's hind, and Signa's,[8] him, That hath his eye already keen for bartering. Had not the people,[9] which of all the world

[4: From the incarnation of our Lord to the birth of Cacciaguida, the planet Mars had returned 580 times to the constellation of Leo, with which it is supposed to have a congenial influence. As Mars then completed his revolution in a period of forty - three days short of two years, Cacciaguida was born about 1090.]

[5: The city was divided into four compartments. The Elisei, the ancestors of Dante, resided near the entrance of that named from the Porta S. Piero, which was the last reached by the competitor in the annual race at Florence.]

[6: Country places near Florence.]

[7: "That the inhabitants of the above - mentioned places had not been mixed with the citizens; nor the limits of Florence extended beyond Galluzzo and Trespiano."]

[8: Baldo of Aguglione, and Bonifazio of Signa.]

[9: If Rome had continued in her allegiance to the Emperor, and the Guelfi - Ghibelline factions had thus been prevented, Florence would not have been polluted by a race of upstarts, nor lost her best element.]

Degenerates most, been stepdame unto Caesar, But, as a mother to her son, been kind, Such one, as hath become a Florentine, And trades and traffics, hath been turn'd adrift To Simifonte,[10] where his grandsire plied The beggar's craft: the Conti were possest Of Montemurlo[11] still: the Cerchi still Were in Acone's parish: nor had haply From Valdigreve passed the Buondelmonti. The city's malady hath ever source In the confusion of its persons, as The body's, in variety of food: And the blind bull falls with a steeper plunge, Than the blind lamb: and oftentimes one sword Doth more and better execution, Than five. Mark Luni; Urbisaglia[12] mark; How they are gone; and after them how go Chiusi and Sinigaglia![13] and't will seem No longer new, or strange to thee, to hear That families fail, when cities have their end. All things that appertain to ye, like yourselves, Are mortal: but mortality in some Ye mark not; they endure so long, and you Pass by so suddenly. And as the moon Doth, by the rolling of her heavenly sphere, Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly; So fortune deals with Florence. Hence admire not At what of them I tell thee, whose renown Time covers, the first Florentines. I saw The Ughi, Catilini, and Filippi, The Alberichi, Greci, and Ormanni, Now in their wane, illustrious citizens; And great as ancient, of Sannella him, With him of Arca saw, and Soldanieri,

[10: A castle dismantled by the Florentines. The person here alluded to is not known.]

[11: The Conti Guidi, unable to defend their castle from the Pistoians, sold it to the state of Florence.]

[12: Cities formerly of importance, but then fallen to decay.]

[13: The same.]

And Ardinghi, and Bostichi. At the poop[14] That now is laden with new felony So cumbrous it may speedily sink the bark, The Ravignani sat, or whom is sprung The County Guido, and whoso hath since His title from the famed Bellincion ta'en. Fair governance was yet an art well prized By him of Pressa: Galigaio show'd The gilded hilt and pommel,[15] in his house; The column, clothed with verrey,[16] still was seen Unshaken; the Sacchetti still were great, Giuochi, Fifanti, Galli, and Barucci, With them[17] who blush to hear the bushel named. Of the Calfucci still the branchy trunk Was in its strength: and, to the curule chairs, Sizii and Arrigucci[18] yet were drawn. How mighty them[19] I saw, whom, since, their pride Hath undone! And in all their goodly deeds Florence was, by the bullets of bright gold,[20] O'erflourish'd. Such the sires of those,[21] who now, As surely as your church is vacant, flock Into her consistory, and at leisure There stall them and grow fat. The o'erweening broad,[22] That plays the dragon after him that flees, But unto such as turn and show the tooth, Ay or the purse, is gentle as a lamb, Was on its rise, but yet so slight esteem'd, That Ubertino of Donati grudged His father - in - law should yoke him to its tribe.

[14: The Cerchi, Dante's enemies, had succeeded to the houses over the gate of St. Peter.]

[15: The symbols of knighthood.]

[16: The arms of the Pigli, or as some wrote it, the Billi.]

[17: Either the Chiaramontesi, or the Tosinghi; one of which had committed a fraud in measuring out the wheat from the public granary. See Purgatory, Canto xii. 99.]

[18: "These families still obtained the magistracies."]

[19: "Them." The Uberti.]

[20: The arms of the Abbati, or of the Lamberti.]

[21: Of the Visdomini, the Tosinghi, and the Cortigiani, who, being sprung from the founders of the bishopric of Florence, are the curators of its revenues, which they do not spare, whenever it becomes vacant.]

[22: This family was so little esteemed that Ubertino Donato, of the same stock as his wife, was offended with his father - in - law, Bellincion Berti, for giving another daughter to one of them.]

Already Caponsacco[23] had descended Into the mart from Fesole: and Giuda And Infangato[24] were good citizens. A thing incredible I tell, though true: The gateway, named from those of Pera, led Into the narrow circuit of your wells. Each one, who bears the sightly quarterings Of the great Baron,[25] (he whose name and worth The festival of Thomas still revives,) His knighthood and his privilege retain'd; Albeit one,[26] who borders them with gold, This day is mingled with the common herd. In Borgo yet the Gualterotti dwelt, And Importuni;[27] well for its repose, Had it still lack'd of newer neighbourhood.[28] The house,[29] from whence your tears have had their spring, Through the just anger, that hath murder'd ye And put a period to your gladsome days, Was honour'd; it, and those consorted with it. O Buondelmonte! what ill counselling Prevail'd on thee to break the plighted bond? Many, who now are weeping, would rejoice, Had God to Ema[30] given thee, the first time Thou near our city camest. But so was doom'd:

[23: The Caponsacchi, who had removed from Fiesole.]

[24: Guida Guidi and the family of Infangati.]

[25: The Marchese Ugo, who resided at Florence as lieutenant of the Emperor Otho III, gave many of the chief families license to bear his arms. A vision is related, in consequence of which he sold all his possessions in Germany, and founded seven abbeys, in one whereof his memory was celebrated at Florence on St. Thomas' day. "The marquis, when hunting, strayed away from his people, and, wandering through a forest, came to a smithy, where he saw black and deformed men tormenting others with fire and hammers; and, asking the meaning of this, he was told that they were condemned souls, who suffered this punishment, and that the soul of the Marchese Ugo was doomed to suffer the same, if he did not repent. Struck with horror, he commended himself to the Virgin Mary; and soon after founded the seven religious houses."]

[26: Giano della Bella, of one of the families thus distinguished, who no longer retained his place among the nobility, and had yet added to his arms a bordure or.]

[27: Two families in the compartment of the city called Borgo.]

[28: Some understand this of the Bardi; and others, of the Buondelmonti.]

[29: "The house." Of Amidei.]

[30: "To Ema." "It had been well for the city if thy ancestor had been drowned in the Ema when he crossed that stream on his way from Montebuono to Florence."]

Florence! on that maim'd stone[31] which guards the bridge The victim, when thy peace departed, fell.

[31: Near the remains of the statute of Mars, Buondelmonti was slain, as if he had been a victim to the god; and Florence had not since known the blessing of peace.]

"With these and others like to them, I saw Florence in such assured tranquillity, She had no cause at which to grieve: with these Saw her so glorious and so just, that ne'er The lily[32] from the lance had hung reverse, Or through division been with vermeil dyed."

[32: The arms of Florence had never hung reversed on the spear of her enemies; nor been changed from argent to gules; as they afterward were, when the Guelfi gained the predominance.]

Paradise Canto 17

Canto XVII

Argument

Cacciaguida predicts to our Poet his exile and the calamities he had to infer; and, lastly, exhorts him to write the present poem.

Such as the youth,[1] who came to Clymene, To certify himself of that reproach Which had been fasten'd on him, (he whose end, Still makes the fathers chary to their sons), E'en such was I; nor unobserved was such Of Beatrice, and that saintly lamp,[2] Who had erewhile for me his station moved; When thus my lady: "Give thy wish free vent, That it may issue, bearing true report Of the mind's impress: not that aught thy words May to our knowledge add, but to the end That thou mayst use thyself to own thy thirst,[3] And men may mingle for thee when they hear."

[1: Phaeton, who came to his mother Clymene, to inquire if he were indeed the son of Apollo.]

[2: Cacciaguida.]

[3: "That thou mayst obtain from others a solution of any doubt that may occur to thee."]

"O plant, from whence I spring! revered and loved! Who soar'st so high a pitch, that thou as clear,[4] As earthly thought determines two obtuse In one triangle not contain'd, so clear Dost see contingencies, ere in themselves Existent, looking at the point[5] whereto All times are present; I, the whilst I scaled With Virgil the soul - purifying mount And visited the nether world of woe, Touching my future destiny have heard Words grievous, though I feel me on all sides Well squared to fortune's blows. Therefore my will Were satisfied to know the lot awaits me; The arrow, seen beforehand, slacks his flight."

[4: "Thou beholdest future events with the same clearness of evidence that we discern the simplest mathematical demonstrations."]

[5: The divine nature.]

So said I to the brightness, which erewhile To me had spoken; and my will declared, As Beatrice will'd, explicitly. Nor with oracular response obscure, Such as, or e'er the Lamb of God was slain, Beguiled the credulous nations: but, in terms Precise, and unambiguous lore, replied The spirit of paternal love, enshrined, Yet in his smile apparent; and thus spake: "Contingency,[6] whose verge extendeth not Beyond the tablet of your mortal mold, Is all depictured in the eternal sight; But hence deriveth not necessity,[7] More than the tall ship, hurried down the flood, Is driven by the eye that looks on it. From thence,[8] as to the ear sweet harmony From organ comes, so comes before mine eye The time prepared for thee. Such as driven out From Athens, by his cruel stepdame's[9] wiles, Hippolytus departed; such must thou Depart from Florence. This they wish, and this Contrive, and will ere long effectuate, there,[10] Where gainful merchandize is made of Christ Throughout the live - long day. The common cry,[11] Will, as 'tis ever wont, affix the blame

[6: "Contingency." Contingency, which has no place beyond the limits of the material world.]

[7: "The evidence with which we see casual events portrayed in the source of all truth, no more necessitates those events, than does the image, reflected in the sight by a ship sailing down a stream, necessitate the motion of the vessel."]

[8: From the view of the Deity Himself.]

[9: Phaedra.]

[10: "There." At Rome, where the expulsion of Dante's party from Florence was then plotting, in 1300.]

[11: The multitude will, as usual, be ready to blame those who are sufferers, whose cause will at last be vindicated by the overthrow of their enemies.]

Unto the party injured: but the truth Shall, in the vengeance it dispenseth, find A faithful witness. Thou shalt leave each thing Beloved most dearly: this is the first shaft Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove How salt the savour is of other's bread; How hard the passage, to descend and climb By other's stairs. But that shall gall thee most, Will be the worthless and vile company, With whom thou must be thrown into these straits. For all ungrateful, impious all, and mad, Shall turn 'gainst thee: but in a little while, Theirs,[12] and not thine, shall be the crimson'd brow. Their course shall so evince their brutishness, To have ta'en thy stand apart shall well become thee.

[12: "They shall be ashamed of the part they have taken against thee."]

"First refuge thou must find, first place of rest, In the great Lombard's[13] courtesy, who bears, Upon the ladder perch'd, the sacred bird. He shall behold thee with such kind regard, That 'twixt ye two, the contrary to that Which 'falls 'twixt other men, the granting shall Forerun the asking. With him shalt thou see That mortal,[14] who was at his birth imprest So strongly from this star, that of his deeds The nations shall take note. His unripe age Yet holds him from observance; for these wheels Only nine years have compasst him about. But, ere the Gascon[15] practise on great Harry,[16] Sparkles of virtue shall shoot forth in him, In equal scorn of labours and of gold His bounty shall be spread abroad so widely, As not to let the tongues, e'en of his foes, Be idle in its praise. Look thou to him, And his beneficence: for he shall cause Reversal of their lot to many people;

[13: Either Bartolommeo della Scala or Alboino his brother. Their coat-of-arms was a ladder and an eagle.]

[14: "That mortal." Can Grande della Scala, born under the influence of Mars, but at this time only nine years old. He was a son of Alberto della Scala.]

[15: "The Gascon." Pope Clement V.]

[16: The Emperor Henry VII.]

Rich men and beggars interchanging fortunes. And thou shalt bear this written in thy soul' Of him, but tell it not:" and things he told Incredible to those who witness them; Then added: "So interpret thou, my son, What hath been told thee. - Lo! the ambushment That a few circling seasons hide for thee. Yet envy not thy neighbours: time extends Thy span beyond their treason's chastisement."

Soon as the saintly spirit, by silence, mark'd Completion of that web, which I had stretch'd Before it, warp'd for weaving; I began, As one, who in perplexity desires Counsel of other, wise, benign and friendly: "My father! well I mark how time spurs on Toward me, ready to inflict the blow, Which falls most heavily on him who most Abandoneth himself. Therefore 'tis good I should forecast, that, driven from the place[17] Most dear to me, I may not lose myself[18] All other by my song. Down through the world Of infinite mourning; and along the mount, From whose fair height my lady's eyes did lift me; And, after, through this Heaven, from light to light; Have I learnt that, which if I tell again, It may with many wofully disrelish: And, if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear my life may perish among those, To whom these days shall be of ancient date."

[17: "The place." Our poet here discovers both that Florence, much as he inveighs against it, was still the dearest object of his affections, and that it was not without some scruple he indulged his satirical vein.]

[18: "That being driven out of my country, I may not deprive myself of every other place by the boldness with which I expose in my writings the vices of mankind."]

The brightness, where enclosed the treasure[19] smiled, Which I had found there, first shone glisteringly, Like to a golden mirror in the sun; Next answer'd: "Conscience, dimm'd or by its own Or other's shame, will feel thy saying sharp. Thou, notwithstanding, all deceit removed,

[19: "The treasure." Cacciaguida.]

See the whole vision be made manifest; And let them wince, who have their withers wrung. What though, when tasted first, thy voice shall prove Unwelcome: on digestion, it will turn To vital nourishment. The cry thou raisest, Shall, as the wind doth, smite the proudest summits; Which is of honour no light argument. For this, there only have been shown to thee, Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep, Spirits, whom fame hath note of. For the mind Of him, who hears, is loth to acquiesce And fix its faith, unless the instance brought Be palpable, and proof apparent urge."

Paradise Canto 18

Canto XVIII

Argument

Dante sees the souls of many renowned warriors and crusaders in the planet Mars; and then ascends with Beatrice to Jupiter, the sixth heaven, in which he finds the souls of those who had administered justice rightly in the world, so disposed, as to form the figure of an eagle. The Canto concludes with an invective against the avarice of the clergy, and especially of the pope.

Now in his word, sole, ruminating, joy'd That blessed spirit and I fed on mine, Tempering the sweet with bitter. She meanwhile, Who led me unto God, admonish'd: "Muse On other thoughts: bethink thee, that near Him I dwell, who recompenseth every wrong."

At the sweet sounds of comfort straight I turn'd; And, in the saintly eyes what love was seen, I leave in silence here, nor through distrust Of my words only, but that to such bliss The mind remounts not without aid. Thus much Yet may I speak; that, as I gazed on her, Affection found no room for other wish. While the everlasting pleasure, that did full On Beatrice shine, with second view From her fair countenance my gladden'd soul Contended; vanquishing me with a beam Of her soft smile, she spake: "Turn thee, and list. These eyes are not thy only Paradise."

As here, we sometimes in the looks may see The affection mark'd, when that its sway hath ta'en The spirit wholly; thus the hallow'd light,[1] To whom I turn'd, flashing, bewray'd its will To talk yet further with me, and began: "On this fifth lodgment of the tree,[2] whose life Is from its top, whose fruit is ever fair And leaf unwithering, blessed spirits abide, That were below, ere they arrived in Heaven, So mighty in renown, as every muse Might grace her triumph with them. On the horns Look, therefore, of the cross: he whom I name, Shall there enact, as doth in summer cloud Its nimble fire." Along the cross I saw, At the repeated name of Joshua, A splendour gliding; nor, the word was said, Ere it was done: then, at the naming, saw, Of the great Maccabee,[3] another move With whirling speed; and gladness was the scourge Unto that top. The next for Charlemain And for the peer Orlando, two my gaze Pursued, intently, as the eye pursues A falcon flying. Last, along the cross, William, and Renard,[4] and Duke Godfrey[5] drew My ken, and Robert Guiscard.[6] And the soul Who spake with me, among the other lights Did move away, and mix; and with the quire Of heavenly songsters proved his tuneful skill.

[1: In which the spirit of Cacciaguida was enclosed.]

[2: Mars, the fifth of the heavens.]

[3: Judas Maccabaeus.]

[4: Probably not William II of Orange, and his kinsman Raimbaud, two of the crusaders under Godfrey of Bouillon, but rather the two more celebrated heroes in the age of Charlemain. The former, William I of Orange, supposed to have been the founder of the present illustrious family of that name, died about 808. The latter has been celebrated by Ariosto, under the name of Rinaldo.]

[5: Godfrey of Bouillon.]

[6: See Hell, Canto xxviii. 12.]

To Beatrice on my right I bent, Looking for intimation, or by word Or act, what next behoved; and did descry Such mere effulgence in her eyes, such joy, It pass'd all former wont. And, as by sense Of new delight, the man, who perseveres In good deeds, doth perceive, from day to day,

His virtue growing; I e'en thus perceived, Of my ascent, together with the Heaven, The circuit widen'd; noting the increase Of beauty in that wonder. Like the change In a brief moment on some maiden's cheek, Which, from its fairness, doth discharge the weight Of pudency, that stain'd it; such in her, And to mine eyes so sudden was the change, Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star, Whose sixth orb now enfolded us. I saw, Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks Of love, that reign'd there, fashion to my view Our language. And as birds, from river banks Arisen, now in round, now lengthen'd troop, Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems Their new - found pastures; so, within the lights, The saintly creatures flying, sang; and made Now D, now I, now L, figured i' the air First singing to their notes they moved; then, one Becoming of these signs, a little while Did rest them, and were mute. O nymph divine Of Pegasean race! who souls, which thou Inspirest, makest glorious and long - lived, as they Cities and realms by thee; thou with thyself Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes, As fancy doth present them: be thy power Display'd in this brief song. The characters, Vocal and consonant, were five - fold seven. In order, each, as they appear'd, I mark'd. Diligite Justitiam, the first, Both verb and noun all blazon'd; and the extreme, Qui judicatis terram. In the M Of the fifth word they held their station; Making the star seem silver streak'd with gold. And on the summit of the M, I saw Descending other lights, that rested there, Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good. Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand, Sparkles innumerable on all sides Rise scatter'd, source of augury to the unwise; Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence Seem'd reascending; and a higher pitch Some mounting, and some less, e'en as the sun, Which kindleth them, decreed. And when each one Had settled in his place; the head and neck Then saw I of an eagle, livelily Graved in that streaky fire. Who painteth there,[7] Hath none to guide Him: of Himself He guides: And every line and texture of the nest Doth own from Him the virtue fashions it. The other bright beatitude,[8] that seem'd Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content To over-canopy the M, moved forth, Following gently the impress of the bird.

[7: "Who painteth there." The Deity himself.]

[8: The band of spirits.]

Sweet star; what glorious and thick - studded gems Declared to me our justice on the earth To be the effluence of that Heaven, which thou, Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay. Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom Thy motion and thy virtue are begun, That He would look from whence the fog doth rise, To vitiate thy beam; so that once more[9] He may put forth his hand 'gainst such, as drive Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls With miracles and martyrdoms were built.

[9: That he may again drive out those who buy and sell in the temple.]

Ye host of Heaven, whose glory I survey! O beg ye grace for those, that are, on earth, All after ill example gone astray. War once had for his instrument the sword: But now 'tis made, taking the bread away,[10] Which the good Father locks from none. - And thou, That writest but to cancel,[11] think, that they, Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died, Peter and Paul, live yet, and mark thy doings.

[10: "Taking the bread away." Excommunication, or interdiction of the Eucharist, is now employed as a weapon of warfare.]

[11: "That writest but to cancel." "And thou, Pope Boniface, who writest thy ecclesiastical censures for no other purpose than to be paid for revoking them."]

Thou hast good cause to cry, "My heart so cleaves To him,[12] that lived in solitude remote, And for a dance was dragg'd to martyrdom, I wist not of the Fisherman nor Paul."

[12: "To him." The coin of Florence was stamped with the impression of John the Baptist; and, for this, the avaricious Pope is made to declare that he felt more devotion, than either for Peter or Paul.]

Paradise Canto 19

Canto XIX

Argument

The eagle speaks as with one voice proceeding from a multitude of spirits, that compose it; and declares the cause for which it is exalted to that state of glory. It then solves a doubt, which our Poet had entertained, respecting the possibility of salvation without belief in Christ; exposes the inefficacy of a mere profession of such belief; and prophesies the evil appearance that many Christian potentates will make at the day of judgment.

Before my sight appear'd, with open wings, The beauteous image; in fruition sweet, Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem A little ruby, whereon so intense The sun - beam glow'd, that to mine eyes it came In clear refraction. And that, which next Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter'd, Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy Was e'er conceived. For I beheld and heard The beak discourse; and, what intention form'd Of many, singly as of one express, Beginning: "For that I was just and piteous, I am exalted to this height of glory, The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth Have I my memory left, e'en by the bad Commended, while they leave its course untrod."

Thus is one heat from many embers felt; As in that image many were the loves, And one the voice, that issued from them all: Whence I address'd them: "O perennial flowers Of gladness everlasting! that exhale In single breath your odours manifold; Breathe now: and let the hunger be appeased, That with great craving long hath held my soul, Finding no food on earth. This well I know;

That if there be in Heaven a realm, that shows In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself To hearken; ye, the doubt, that urges me With such inveterate craving." Straight I saw, Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, His beauty and his eagerness bewraying; So saw I move that stately sign, with praise Of grace divine inwoven, and high song Of inexpressive joy. "He," it began, "Who turn'd His compass on the world's extreme, And in that space so variously hath wrought, Both openly and in secret; in such wise Could not, through all the universe, display Impression of His glory, that the Word Of His omniscience should not still remain In infinite excess. In proof whereof, He first through pride supplanted, who was sum Of each created being, waited not For light celestial; and abortive fell. Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant Receptacle unto that God, which knows No limit, measured by itself alone. Therefore your sight, of the omnipresent Mind A single beam, its orgin must own Surpassing far its utmost potency. The ken, your world is gifted with, descends In the everlasting Justice as low down, As eye doth in the sea; which, though it mark The bottom from the shore, in the wide main Discerns it not; and ne'ertheless it is; But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, Save that which cometh from the pure serene Of ne'er disturbed ether: for the rest, 'Tis darkness all; or shadow of the flesh, Or else its poison. Here confess reveal'd That covert, which hath hidden from thy search The living justice, of the which thou madest Such frequent question; for thou said'st - 'A man Is born on Indus' banks, and none is there Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write; And all his inclinations and his acts, As far as human reason sees, are good; And he offendeth not in word or deed: But unbaptized he dies, and void of faith. Where is the justice that condemns him? where His blame, if he believeth not?' - What then, And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit To judge at distance of a thousand miles With the short - sighted vision of a span? To him, who subtilizes thus with me, There would assuredly be room for doubt Even to wonder, did not the safe word Of Scripture hold supreme authority.

"O animals of clay! O spirits gross! The Primal Will,[1] that in itself is good, Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne'er been moved. Justice consists in consonance with it, Derivable by no created good, Whose very cause depends upon its beam."

[1: The divine will.]

As on her nest the stork, that turns about Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, Whiles they with upward eyes do look on her; So lifted I my gaze; and, bending so, The ever - blessed image waved its wings, Labouring with such deep counsel. Wheeling round It warbled, and did say: "As are my notes To thee, who understand'st them not; such is The eternal judgment unto mortal ken."

Then still abiding in that ensign ranged, Wherewith the Romans overawed the world, Those burning splendours of the Holy Spirit Took up the strain; and thus it spake again: "None ever hath ascended to this realm, Who hath not a believer been in Christ, Either before or after the blest limbs Were nail'd upon the wood. But lo! of those

Who call 'Christ, Christ,'[2] there shall be many found, In judgment, further off from Him by far, Than such to whom His name was never known. Christians like these the Aethiop[3] shall condemn: When that the two assemblages shall part; One rich eternally, the other poor.

[2: "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven." - Matt. vii. 21.]

[3: "The Aethiop." "The men of Nineveh shall rise in judgment with this generation, and shall condemn it." - Matt. xii. 41.]

"What may the Persians say unto your kings, When they shall see that volume,[4] in the which All their dispraise is written, spread to view? There amidst Albert's[5] works shall that be read, Which will give speedy motion to the pen, When Prague[6] shall mourn her desolated realm. There shall be read the woe, that he[7] doth work With his adulterate money on the Seine, Who by the tusk will perish; there be read The thirsting pride, that maketh fool alike The English and Scot,[8] impatient of their bound. There shall be seen the Spaniard's luxury;[9] The delicate living there of the Bohemian,[10] Who still to worth has been a willing stranger. The halter of Jerusalem[11] shall see A unit for his virtue; for his vices, No less a mark than million. He,[12] who guards

[4: "That volume." "And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works." - Rev. xx. 12.]

[5: "Albert." Purgatory, Canto vi. 98.]

[6: "Prague." The eagle predicts the devastation of Bohemia by Albert, which happened soon after this time, when that Emperor obtained the kingdom for his eldest son Rodolph.]

[7: "He." Philip IV of France, after the battle of Courtrai, 1302, in which the French were defeated by the Flemings, raised the nominal value of the coin. This King died in consequence of his horse being thrown to the ground by a wild boar, in 1314.]

[8: "The English and Scot." He adverts to the disputes between John Baliol and Edward I, the latter of whom is commended in the Purgatory, Canto vii. 130.]

[9: "The Spaniard's luxury." It seems probable that the allusion is to Ferdinand IV, who came to the crown in 1295, and died in 1312, at the age of twenty - four, in consequence, as it was supposed, of his extreme intemperance.]

[10: "The Bohemian." Wenceslaus II. Purgatory, Canto vii. 99.]

[11: "The halter of Jerusalem." Charles II of Naples and Jerusalem, who was lame.]

[12: "He." Frederick of Sicily, son of Peter III of Arragon. Purgatory, Canto vii. 117. The isle of fire is Sicily, where was the tomb of Anchises.]

The isle of fire by old Anchises honour'd, Shall find his avarice there and cowardice; And better to denote his littleness, The writing must be letters maim'd, that speak Much in a narrow space. All there shall know His uncle[13] and his brother's[14] filthy doings, Who so renown'd a nation and two crowns Have bastardized. And they, of Portugal[15] And Norway,[16] there shall be exposed, with him Of Ratza,[17] who hath counterfeited ill The coin of Venice. O blest Hungary![18] If thou no longer patiently abidest Thy ill - entreating: and, O blest Navarre![19] If with thy mountainous girdle[20] thou wouldst arm thee. In earnest of that day, e'en now are heard Wailings and groans in Famagosta's streets And Nicosia's,[21] grudging at their beast, Who keepeth even footing with the rest."

[13: "His uncle." James, King of Majorca and Minorca, brother to Peter III.]

[14: "His brother." James II of Arragon, who died in 1327. See Purgatory, Canto vii. 117.]

[15: "Of Portugal." In the time of Dante, Dionysius was King of Portugal. He died in 1325, after a reign of nearly forty - six years, and does not seem to have deserved the stigma here fastened on him. Perhaps the rebellious son of Dionysius may be alluded to.]

[16: "Norway." Haquin, King of Norway, is probably meant; who having given refuge to the murderers of Eric VII, King of Denmark, A. D. 1288, commenced a war against his successor, Eric VIII, "which continued for nine years, almost to the utter ruin and destruction of both kingdoms."]

[17: "_____ him Of Ratza." One of the dynasty of the house of Nemagna, which ruled the Kingdom of Rassia or Ratza, in Sclavonia, from 1161 to 1371, and whose history may be found in Mauro Orbino. Uladislaus appears to have been the sovereign in Dante's time; but the disgraceful forgery, adverted to in the text, is not recorded by the historian.]

[18: "Hungary." The kingdom of Hungary was about this time disputed by Carobert, son of Charles Martel, and Wenceslaus, prince of Bohemia, son of Wenceslaus II.]

[19: "Navarre." Navarre was now under the yoke of France. It soon after (in 1328) followed the advice of Dante, and had a monarch of its own.]

[20: "Mountainous girdle." The Pyrenees.]

[21: "_____ Famagosta's streets And Nicosia's." Cities in the Kingdom of Cyprus, at that time ruled by Henry VII, a pusillanimous prince. The meaning appears to be, that the complaints made by those cities of their weak and worthless governor may be regarded as an earnest of his condemnation at the last doom.]

Paradise Canto 20

Canto XX

Argument

The eagle celebrates the praise of certain kings, whose glorified spirits form the eye of the bird. In the pupil is David; and, in the circle round it, Trajan, Hezekiah, Constantine, William II of Sicily, and Ripheus. It explains to our Poet how the souls of those whom he supposed to have had no means of believing in Christ, came to be in Heaven; and concludes with an admonition against presuming to fathom the counsels of God.

When, disappearing from our hemisphere, The world's enlightener vanishes, and day On all sides wasteth; suddenly the sky, Erewhile irradiate only with his beam, Is yet again unfolded, putting forth Innumerable lights wherein one shines. Of such vicissitude in Heaven I thought; As the great sign,[1] that marshaleth the world And the world's leaders, in the blessed beak Was silent: for that all those living lights, Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs, Such as from memory glide and fall away.

[1: The eagle, the imperial ensign.]

Sweet Love, that doth apparel thee in smiles! How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles, Which merely are from holy thoughts inspired.

After[2] the precious and bright beaming stones, That did ingem the sixth light, ceased the chiming Of their angelic bells; methought I heard The murmuring of a river, that doth fall From rock to rock transpicuous, making known The richness of his spring - head: and as sound Of cittern, at the fret - board, or of pipe, Is, at the wind - hole, modulate and tuned; Thus up the neck, as it were hollow, rose That murmuring of the eagle; and forthwith Voice there assumed; and thence along the beak Issued in form of words, such as my heart Did look for, on whose tables I inscribed them.

[2: "After." "After the spirits in the sixth planet (Jupiter) had ceased their singing."]

"The part in me, that sees and bears the sun In mortal eagles," it began, "must now Be noted steadfastly: for, of the fires That figure me, those, glittering in mine eye, Are chief of all the greatest. This, that shines Midmost for pupil, was the same who[3] sang The Holy Spirit's song, and bare about The ark from town to town: now doth he know The merit of his soul - impassion'd strains By their well - fitted guerdon. Of the five, That make the circle of the vision, he,[4] Who to the beak is nearest, comforted The widow for her son: now doth he know, How dear it costeth not to follow Christ; Both from experience of this pleasant life, And of its opposite. He next,[5] who follows In the circumference, for the over - arch, By true repenting slack'd the pace of death: Now knoweth he, that the decrees of Heaven[6] Alter not, when, through pious prayer below, To - day is made to - morrow's destiny. The other following,[7] with the laws and me, To yield the Shepherd room, pass'd o'er[8] to Greece; From good intent, producing evil fruit: Now knoweth he, how all the ill, derived From his well doing, doth not harm him aught; Though it have brought destruction on the world. That, which thou seest in the under bow, Was William,[9] whom that land bewails, which weeps For Charles and Frederick living: now he knows, How well is loved in Heaven the righteous king; Which he betokens by his radiant seeming. Who, in the erring world beneath, would deem

[3: "Who." David.]

[4: "Trajan. See Purgatory, x. 68.]

[5: "He next." Hezekiah.]

[6: The eternal counsels of God are indeed ummutable, though they appear to us men to be altered by the prayers of the pious.]

[7: Constantine. No passage in which Dante's opinion of the evil that had arisen from the mixture of the civil with the ecclesiastical power is more unequivocally declared.]

[8: Left the Roman State to the Pope, and transferred the seat of the empire to Constantinople.]

[9: William II, called "the Good," King of Sicily, at the latter part of the twelfth century. He was of the Norman line of sovereigns. His loss was as much the subject of regret in his dominions, as the presence of Charles II of Anjou, and Frederick of Arragon, was of sorrow.]

That Trojan Ripheus,[10] in this round, was set, Fifth of the saintly splendours? now he knows Enough of that, which the world cannot see; The grace divine: albeit e'en his sight Reach not its utmost depth." Like to the lark, That warbling in the air expatiates long, Then, trilling out his last sweet melody, Drops, satiate with the sweetness; such appear'd That image, stampt by the everlasting pleasure, Which fashions, as they are, all things that be.

[10: "Then Ripheus fell, the justest far of all the sons of Troy." - Virgil, Aeneid. lib. ii. 427.]

I, though my doubting were as manifest, As is through glass the hue that mantles it, In silence waited not; for to my lips "What things are these?" involuntary rush'd, And forced a passage out: whereat I mark'd A sudden lightening and new revelry. The eye was kindled; and the blessed sign, No more to keep me wondering and suspense, Replied: "I see that thou believest these things, Because I tell them, but discern'st not how; So that thy knowledge waits not on thy faith: As one, who knows the name of thing by rote, But is a stranger to its properties, Till other's tongue reveal them. Fervent love, And lively hope, with violence assail The Kingdom of the Heavens, and overcome The will of the Most High; not in such sort As man prevails o'er man; but conquers it, Because 'tis willing to be conquer'd; still, Though conquer'd, by its mercy, conquering.

"Those, in the eye who live the first and fifth, Cause thee to marvel, in that thou behold'st The region of the Angels deck'd with them. They quitted not their bodies, as thou deem'st, Gentiles, but Christians; in firm rooted faith, This,[11] of the feet in future to be pierced, That,[12] of feet nail'd already to the Cross.

[11: "This." Ripheus.]

[12: "That." Trajan.]

One from the barrier of the dark abyss, Where never any with good will returns, Came back unto his bones. Of lively hope Such was the meed; of lively hope, that wing'd The prayers[13] sent up to God for his release, And put power into them to bend his will. The glorious Spirit, of whom I speak to thee; A little while returning to the flesh, Believed in Him, who had the means to help; And, in believing, nourish'd such a flame Of holy love, that at the second death He was made sharer in our gamesome mirth. The other, through the riches of that grace, Which from so deep a fountain doth distil, As never eye created saw its rising, Placed all his love below on just and right: Wherefore, of grace, God oped in him the eye To the redemption of mankind to come; Wherein believing, he endured no more The filth of Paganism, and for their ways Rebuked the stubborn nations. The three nymphs,[14] Whom at the right wheel thou beheld'st advancing, Were sponsors for him, more than thousand years Before baptizing. O how far removed, Predestination! is thy root from such As see not the First Cause entire: and ye, O mortal men! be wary how ye judge: For we, who see our Maker, know not yet The number of the chosen; and esteem Such scantiness of knowledge our delight: For all our good is, in that Primal Good, Concentrate; and God's will and ours are one."

[13: The prayers of St. Gregory.]

[14: "The three nymphs." Faith, Hope, and Charity. Purgatory, Canto xxix. 116.]

So, by that form divine, was given to me Sweet medicine to clear and strengthen sight. And, as one handling skilfully the harp, Attendant on some skilful songster's voice Bids the chord vibrate; and therein the song Acquires more pleasure: so the whilst it spake.

It doth remember me, that I beheld The pair[15] of blessed luminaries move, Like the accordant twinkling of two eyes, Their beamy circlets, dancing to the sounds.

[15: Ripheus and Trajan.]

Paradise Canto 21

Canto XXI

Argument

Dante ascends with Beatrice to the seventh heaven, which is the planet Saturn; wherein is placed a ladder, so lofty, that the top of it is out of his sight. Here are the souls of those who had passed their life in holy retirement and contemplation. Piero Damiano comes near them, and answers questions put to him by Dante; then declares who he was on earth; and ends by declaiming against the luxury of pastors and prelates in those times.

Again mine eyes were fix'd on Beatrice; And, with mine eyes, my soul that in her looks Found all contentment. Yet no smile she wore: And, "Did I smile," quoth she, "thou wouldst be straight Like Semele when into ashes turn'd; For, mounting these eternal palace - stairs, My beauty, which the loftier it climbs, As thou hast noted, still doth kindle more, So shines, that, were no tempering interposed, Thy mortal puissance would from its rays Shrink, as the leaf doth from the thunderbolt. Into the seventh splendour[1] are we wafted, That, underneath the burning lion's breast,[2] Beams, in this hour, commingled with his might. Thy mind be with thine eyes; and, in them, mirror'd[3] The shape, which in this mirror shall be shown."

[1: The planet Saturn.]

[2: The constellation Leo.]

[3: "In them, mirror'd." "Let the form which thou shalt now behold in this mirror," the planet, that is, of Saturn (soon after, v. 22, called the crystal), "be reflected in the mirror of thy sight.")]

Whoso can deem, how fondly I had fed My sight upon her blissful countenance, May know, when to new thoughts I changed, what joy To do the bidding of my heavenly guide; In equal balance,[4] poising either weight.

[4: "My pleasure was as great in complying with her will, as in beholding her countenance."]

Within the crystal, which records the name (As its remoter circle girds the world) Of that loved monarch,[5] in whose happy reign No ill had power to harm, I saw rear'd up, In colour like to sun - illumined gold, A ladder, which my ken pursued in vain, So lofty was the summit; down whose steps I saw the splendours in such multitude Descending, every light in Heaven, methought, Was shed thence. As the rooks, at dawn of day, Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, Some speed their way a - field; and homeward some, Returning, cross their flight; while some abide, And wheel around their airy lodge: so seem'd That glitterance,[6] wafted on alternate wing, As upon certain stair it came, and clash'd Its shining. And one, lingering near us, wax'd So bright, that in my thought I said: "The love, Which this betokens me, admits no doubt."

[5: Saturn. Compare Hell, Canto xiv. 91.]

[6: That multitude of shining spirits, who, coming to a certain point of the ladder, made those different movements, as of birds.]

Unwillingly from question I refrain; To her, by whom my silence and my speech Are order'd, looking for a sign: whence she, Who in the sight of Him, that seeth all, Saw wherefore I was silent, prompted me To indulge the fervent wish; and I began: "I am not worthy, of my own desert, That thou shouldst answer me: but for her sake, Who hath vouchsafed my asking, spirit blest, That in thy joy art shrouded! say the cause, Which bringeth thee so near: and wherefore, say, Doth the sweet symphony of Paradise Keep silence here, pervading with such sounds Of rapt devotion every lower sphere?" "Mortal art thou in hearing, as in sight;" Was the reply: "and what forbade the smile[7] Of Beatrice interrupts our song. Only to yield thee gladness of my voice, And of the light that vests me, I thus far Descend these hallow'd steps; not that more love

[7: Because it would have overcome thee.]

Invites me; for, lo! there aloft,[8] as much Or more of love is witness'd in those flames: But such my lot by charity assign'd, That makes us ready servants, as thou seest, To execute the counsel of the Highest."

[8: "There aloft." Where the other souls were.]

"That in this court," said I, "O sacred lamp! Love no compulsion needs, but follows free The eternal Providence, I well discern: This harder find to deem: why, of thy peers, Thou only, to this office wert foredoom'd."

I had not ended, when, like rapid mill, Upon its centre whirl'd the light; and then The love that did inhabit there, replied: "Splendour eternal, piercing through these folds, Its virtue to my vision knits; and thus Supported, lifts me so above myself, That on the sovran Essence, which it wells from, I have the power to gaze: and hence the joy, Wherewith I sparkle, equaling with my blaze The keenness of my sight. But not the soul,[9] That is in Heaven most lustrous, nor the Seraph, That hath his eyes most fix'd on God, shall solve What thou hast ask'd: for in the abyss it lies Of th' everlasting statute sunks so low, That no created ken may fathom it. And, to the mortal world when thou return'st, Be this reported: that none henceforth dare Direct his footsteps to so dread a bourn. The mind, that here is radiant, on the earth Is wrapt in mist. Look then if she may do Below, what passeth her ability When she is ta'en to Heaven." By words like these Admonish'd, I the question urged no more; And of the spirit humbly sued alone To instruct me of its state. "'Twixt either shore[10] Of Italy, nor distant from thy land, A stony ridge[11] ariseth; in such sort,

[9: "Not the soul." The particular ends of Providence being concealed from the very Angels themselves.]

[10: Between the Adriatic Gulf and the Mediterranean Sea.]

[11: A part of the Apennines.]

The thunder doth not lift his voice so high. They call it Catria:[12] at whose foot, a cell Is sacred to the lonely Eremite; For worship set apart and holy rites." A third time thus it spake; then added: "There So firmly to God's service I adhered, That with no costlier viands than the juice Of olives, easily I pass'd the heats Of summer and the winter frosts; content In heaven - ward musings. Rich were the returns And fertile, which that cloister once was used To render to these Heavens: now 'tis fallen Into a waste so empty, that ere long Detection must lay bare its vanity. Pietro Damiano[13] there was I y - clept: Pietro the sinner, when before I dwelt, Beside the Adriatic,[14] in the house Of our blest Lady. Near upon my close Of mortal life, through much importuning I was constrain'd to weat the hat,[15] that still From bad to worse is shifted. - Cephas[16] came: He came, who was the Holy Spirit's vessel;[17] Barefoot and lean; eating their bread, as chanced, At the first table. Modern Shepherds need

[12: Now the Abbey of Santa Croce, in the Duchy of Urbino, about half way between Gubbio and La Pergola. Here Dante is said to have resided for some time.]

[13: "Pietro Damiano." "S. Pietro Damiano obtained a great and well - merited reputation by the pains he took to correct the abuses among the clergy. Ravenna is supposed to have been the place of his birth, about 1007. He was employed in several important missions, and rewarded by Stephen IX with the dignity of cardinal, and the bishopric of Ostia, to which, however, he preferred his former retreat in the monastery of Fonte Avellana, and prevailed on Alexander II to permit him to retire thither. Yet he did not long continue in this seclusion, before he was sent on other embassies. He died at Faenza in

1072His letters throw much light on the obscure history of these times.
Besides them, he has left several treatises on sacred and ecclesiastical subjects. His eloquence is worthy of a better age." Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital.] [14: Some editions and manuscripts have "fu," instead of "fui." According to the former of these readings, S. Pietro Damiano is made to distinguish himself from S. Pietro degli Onesti, surnamed "Il Peccator," founder of the monastery of S. Maria del Porto, on the Adriatic coast, near Ravenna, who died in 1119, at about eighty years of age.] [15: "The hat." The cardinal's hat.] [16: "Cephas." St. Peter.] [17: St. Paul. See Hell, Canto ii. 30.] Those who on either hand may prop and lead them, So burly are they grown; and from behind, Others to hoist them. Down the palfrey's sides Spread their broad mantles, so as both the beasts Are cover'd with one skin. O patience! thou That look'st on this, and dost endure so long." I at those accents saw the splendours down From step to step alight, and wheel, and wax, Each circuiting, more beautiful. Round this[18] They came, and stay'd them; utter'd then a shout So loud, it hath no likeness here: nor I Wist what it spake, so deafening was the thunder. [18: "Round this." Round the spirit of Pietro Damiano.]

Paradise Canto 22

Canto XXII

Argument

He beholds many other spirits of the devout and contemplative; and among these is addressed by St. Benedict, who, after disclosing his own name and the names of certain of his companions in bliss, replies to the request made by our Poet that he might look on the form of the saint, without that covering of splendor, which then invested it; and then proceeds, lastly, to inveigh against the corruption of the monks. Next Dante mounts with his heavenly conductress to the eighth heaven, or that of the fixed stars, which he enters at the constellation of the Twins; and thence looking back, reviews all the space he has passed between his present station and the earth.

Astounded, to the guardian of my steps I turn'd me, like the child, who always runs Thither for succour, where he trusteth most: And she was like the mother, who her son Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice Soothes him, and he is cheer'd; for thus she spake, Soothing me: "Know'st not thou, thou art in Heaven? And know'st not thou, whatever is in Heaven, Is holy; and that nothing there is done, But is done zealously and well? Deem now, What change in thee the song, and what my smile Had wrought, since thus the shout had power to move thee; In which, couldst thou have understood their prayers, The vengeance[1] were already known to thee, Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour.

[1: "The vengeance." Beatrice, it is supposed, intimates the approaching fate of Boniface VIII. See Purgatory, Canto xx. 86.]

The sword of Heaven is not in haste to smite, Nor yet doth linger; save unto his seeming, Who, in desire or fear, doth look for it. But elsewhere now I bid thee turn thy view; So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold."

Mine eyes directing, as she will'd, I saw A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew By interchange of splendour. I remain'd, As one, who fearful of o'er - much presuming, Abates in him the keenness of desire, Nor dares to question; when, amid those pearls, One largest and most lustrous onward drew, That it might yield contentment to my wish; And, from within it, these the sounds I heard.

"If thou, like me, beheld'st the charity That burns amongst us; what thy mind conceives Were utter'd. But that, ere the lofty bound Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee; I will make answer even to the thought, Which thou hast such respect of. In old days, That mountain, at whose sidehCassino[2] rests, Was, on its height, frequented by a race Deceived and ill - disposed: and I it was,[3] Who thither carried first the name of Him, Who brought the soul - subliming truth to man. And such a speeding grace shone over me, That from their impious worship I reclaim'd The dwellers round about, who with the world Were in delusion lost. These other flames, The spirits of men contemplative, were all Enliven'd by that warmth, whose kindly force Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness. Here is Macarius;[4] Romoaldo[5] here;

[2: A castle in the Terra di Lavoro.]

[3: "A new order of monks, which in a manner absorbed all the others that were established in the west, was instituted, 529, by Benedict of Nursia, a man of piety and reputation for the age he lived in." Maclaine's Mosheim, Eccles. Hist.]

[4: "Macarius, an Egyptian monk, deserves the first rank among the practical writers of the fourth century, as his works displayed, some few things excepted, the brightest and most lovely portraiture of sanctity and virtue." Ibid.]

[5: S. Romoaldo, a native of Ravenna, and the founder of the order of Camaldoli, died in 1027. He was the author of a commentary on the Psalms.]

And here my brethren, who their steps refrain'd Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart."

I answering thus: "Thy gentle words and kind, And this the cheerful semblance I behold, Not unobservant, beaming in ye all, Have raised assurance in me; wakening it Full - blossom'd in my bosom, as a rose Before the sun, when the consummate flower Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee Therefore intreat I, father, to declare If I may gain such favour, as to gaze Upon thine image by no covering veil'd."

"Brother!" he thus rejoin'd, "in the last sphere[6] Expect completion of thy lofty aim: For there on each desire completion waits, And there on mine; where every aim is found Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe. There all things are as they have ever been: For space is none to bound; nor pole divides. Our ladder reaches even to that clime; And so, at giddy distance, mocks thy view. Thither the patriarch Jacob[7] saw it stretch Its topmost round; when it appear'd to him With Angels laden. But to mount it now None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves; The walls, for abbey rear'd, turn'd into dens; The cowls, to sacks choak'd up with musty meal. Foul usury doth not more lift itself Against God's pleasure, than that fruit, which makes, The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate'er Is in the Church's keeping, all pertains To such, as sue for Heaven's sweet sake; and not To those, who in respect of kindred claim, Or on more vile allowance. Mortal flesh

[6: "In the last sphere." The Empyrean, where he afterward sees St. Benedict, Canto xxxii. 30. Beatified spirits, though they have different heavens allotted them, have all their seats in that higher sphere.]

[7: "The patriarch Jacob." "And he dreamed, and behold, a ladder set upon the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it." - Gen. xxviii. 12.]

Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not From the oak's birth unto the acorn's setting. His convent Peter founded without gold Or silver; I, with prayers and fasting, mine; And Francis, his in meek humility. And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds, Then look what it hath err'd to; thou shalt find The white grown murky. Jordan was turn'd back: And a less wonder, than the refluent sea, May, at God's pleasure, work amendment here."

So saying, to his assembly back he drew: And they together cluster'd into one; Then all roll'd upward, like an eddying wind.

The sweet dame beckon'd me to follow them: And, by that influence only, so prevail'd Over my nature, that no natural motion, Ascending or descending here below, Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied.

So, reader, as my hope is eo return Unto the holy triumph, for the which I oft - times wail my sins, and smite my breast; Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere The sign,[8] that followeth Taurus, I beheld, And enter'd its precinct. O glorious stars! O light impregnate with exceeding virtue! To whom whate'er of genius lifteth me Above the vulgar, grateful I refer; With ye the parent[9] of all mortal life Arose and set, when I did first inhale The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace Vouchsafed me entrance to the lofty wheel[10] That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed My passage at your clime. To you my soul Devoutly sighs, for virtue, even now, To meet the hard emprise that draws me on.

[8: "The sign." The constellation of Gemini.]

[9: "The parent." The sun was in the constellation of the Twins at the time of Dante's birth.]

[10: "The lofty wheel." The eighth heaven; that of the fixed stars.]

"Thou art so near the sum of blessedness," Said Beatrice, "that behoves thy ken Be vigilant and clear. And, to this end, Or ever thou advance thee further, hence Look downward, and contemplate, what a world Already stretch'd under our feet there lies: So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood, Present itself to the triumphal throng, Which, through the ethereal concave, comes rejoicing."

I straight obey'd; and with mine eye return'd Through all the seven spheres; and saw this globe So pitiful of semblance, that perforce It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold For wisest, who esteems it least; whose thoughts Elsewhere are fix'd, him worthiest call and best. I saw the daughter of Latona shine Without the shadow,[11] whereof late I deem'd That dense and rare were cause. Here I sustain'd The visage, Hyperion, of thy son;[12] And mark'd, how near him with their circles, round Move Maia and Dione;[13] here discern'd Jove's tempering 'twixt his sire and son;[14] and hence, Their changes and their various aspects, Distinctly scann'd. Nor might I not descry Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift; Nor, of their several distances, not learn. This petty area, (o'er the which we stride So fiercely), as along the eternal Twins I wound my way, appear'd before me all, Forth from the havens stretch'd unto the hills. Then, to the beauteous eyes, mine eyes return'd.

[11: "Without the shadow." See Canto ii. 71.]

[12: "Of thy son." The sun.]

[13: "Maia and Dione." The planets Mercury and Venus, Dione being the mother of the latter, and Maia of the former deity.]

[14: "'Twixt his sire and son." Betwixt Saturn and Mars.]

Paradise Canto 23

Canto XXIII

Argument

He sees Christ triumphing with his Church. The Saviour ascends followed by his Virgin Mother. The others remain with St. Peter.

E'en as the bird, who midst the leafy bower Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night, With her sweet brood; impatient to descry Their wished looks, and to bring home their food, In the fond quest unconscious of her toil: She, of the time prevenient, on the spray, That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn, Removeth from the east her eager ken: So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance Wistfully on that region,[1] where the sun Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her Suspense and wondering, I became as one, In whom desire is waken'd, and the hope Of somewhat new to come fills with delight.

[1: "That region." Toward the south, where the course of the sun appears less rapid, than when he is in the east or the west.]

Short space ensued; I was not held, I say, Long in expectance, when I saw the Heaven Wax more and more resplendent; and, "Behold," Cried Beatrice, "the triumphal hosts Of Christ, and all the harvest gather'd in, Made ripe by these revolving spheres." Meseem'd, That, while she spake, her image all did burn; And in her eyes such fulness was of joy, As I am fain to pass unconstrued by.

As in the calm full moon, when Trivia[2] smiles, In peerless beauty, 'mid the eternal nymphs,[3] That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound; In bright pre - eminence so saw I there O'er million lamps a Sun, from whom all drew Their radiance, as from ours the starry train: And, through the living light, so lustrous glow'd The substance, that my ken endured it not.

[2: "Trivia." A name of Diana.]

[3: "The eternal nymphs." The stars. Those starry nymphs which dance about the pole. Drummond Sonnet.]

O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide, Who cheer'd me with her comfortable words: "Against the virtue, that o'erpowereth thee, Avails not to resist. Here is the Might,[4] And here the Wisdom, which did open lay The path, that had been yearned for so long, Betwixt the Heaven and earth." Like to the fire, That, in a cloud imprison'd, doth break out Expansive, so that from its womb enlarged, It falleth against nature to the ground; Thus, in that heavenly banqueting, my soul Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost, Holds now remembrance none of what she was.

[4: "The Might." Our Saviour.]

"Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile."

I was as one, when a forgotten dream Doth come across him, and he strives in vain To shape it in his fantasy again: Whenas that gracious boon was proffer'd me, Which never may be cancel'd from the book Wherein the past is written. Now were all Those tongues to sound, that have, on sweetest milk Of Polyhymnia and her sisters, fed And fatten'd; not with all their help to boot, Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth, My song might shadow forth that saintly smile, How merely, in her saintly looks, it wrought. And, with such figuring of Paradise, The sacred strain must leap, like one that meets A sudden interruption to his road. But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme, And that 'tis laid upon a mortal shoulder, May pardon, if it tremble with the burden. The track, our venturous keel must furrow, brooks No unribb'd pinnace, no self - sparing pilot.

"Why doth my face," said Beatrice, "thus Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming

Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the Rose,[5] Wherein the Word Divine was made incarnate; And here the lilies,..[6] by whose odour known The way of life was follow'd." Prompt I heard Her bidding, and encounter'd once again The strife of aching vision. As, erewhile, [cloud, Through glance of sun - light, stream'd through broken Mine eyes a flower - besprinkled mead have seen; Though veil'd themselves in shade: so saw I there Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays Shed lightnings from above; yet saw I not The fountain whence they flow'd. O gracious Virtue Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up Thou didst exalt Thy glory,[7] to give room To my o'erlabour'd sight; when at the name Of that fair flower,[8] whom duly I invoke Both morn and eve, my soul with all her might Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix'd. And, as the bright dimensions of the star In Heaven excelling, as once here on earth, Were, in my eye - balls livelily pourtray'd; Lo! from within the sky a cresset[9] fell, Circling in fashion of a diadem; And girt the star; and, hovering, round it wheel'd.

[5: "The rose." The Virgin Mary, who is termed by the Church, "Rosa Mystica." "I was exalted like a palm - tree in Engaddi, and as a rose - plant in Jericho." - Ecclesiasticus, xxiv. 14.]

[6: "The lilies." The Apostles. "And give ye a sweet savour as frankincense, and flourish as a lily." - Ecclesiasticus, xxxix. 14.]

[7: "Thou didst exalt thy glory." The divine light retired upward, to render the eyes of Dante more capable of enduring the spectacle which now presented itself.]

[8: "_____ the name Of that fair flower." The name of the Virgin.]

[9: "A cresset." The angel Gabriel.]

Whatever melody sounds sweetest here, And draws the spirit most onto itself, Might seem a rent cloud, when it grates the thunder; Compared unto the sounding of that lyre,[10] Wherewith the goodliest sapphire,[11] that inlays The floor of Heaven was crown'd. "Angelic Love I am, who thus with hovering flight enwheel The lofty rapture from that womb inspired, Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so, Lady of Heaven! will hover; long as thou Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere."

[10: "That lyre." By synecdoche, the lyre is put for the angel.]

[11: The Virgin.]

Such close was to the circling melody: And, as it ended, all the other lights Took up the strain, and echoed Mary's name.

The robe,[12] that with its regal folds enwraps The world, and with the nearer breath of God Doth burn and quiver, held so far retired Its inner hem and skirting over us, That yet no glimmer of its majesty Had stream'd unto me: therefore were mine eyes Unequal to pursue the crowned flame,[13] That towering rose, and sought the seed[14] it bore. And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms For every eagerness toward the breast, After the milk is taken; so outstretch'd Their wavy summits all the fervent band, Through zealous love to Mary: then, in view, There halted; and "Regina Coeli"[15] sang So sweetly, the delight hath left me never.

[12: "The robe." The ninth heaven, the primum mobile, that enfolds and moves the eight lower heavens.]

[13: "The crowned flame." The Virgin, with the angel hovering over her.]

[14: "The seed." Our Saviour.]

[15: "Regina Coeli." "The beginning of an anthem, sung by the Church at Easter, in honor of Our Lady."]

Oh! what o'erflowing plenty is up - piled In those rich - laden coffers,[16] which below Sow'd the good seed, whose harvest now they keep. Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears Were in the Babylonian exile[17] won, When gold had fail'd them. Here, in synod high Of ancient council with the new convened, Under the Son of Mary and of God, Victorious he[18] his mighty triumph holds, To whom the keys of glory were assign'd.

[16: "Those rich - laden coffers." Those spirits, who, having sown the seed of good works on earth, now contain the fruit of their pious endeavors.]

[17: "In the Babylonian exile." During their abode in this world.]

[18: "He." St. Peter, with the other holy men of the Old and New Testaments.]

Paradise Canto 24

Canto XXIV

Argument

St. Peter examines Dante touching Faith, and is contented with his answers.

"O Ye! in chosen fellowship advanced To the great supper of the blessed Lamb, Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill'd; If to this man through God's grace be vouchsafed Foretaste of that, which from your table falls, Or ever death his fated term prescribe; Be ye not heedless of his urgent will: But may some influence of your sacred dews Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye always drink, Whence flows what most he craves." Beatrice spake; And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres On firm - set poles revolving, trail'd a blaze Of comet splendour: and as wheels, that wind Their circles in the horologe, so work The stated rounds, that to the observant eye The first seems still, and as it flew, the last; E'en thus their carols weaving variously, They, by the measure paced, or swift, or slow, Made me to rate the riches of their joy.

From that, which I did note in beauty most Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame So bright, as none was left more goodly there. Round Beatrice thrice it wheel'd about, With so divine a song, that fancy's ear Records it not; and the pen passeth on, And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech, Nor e'en the inward shaping of the brain, Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds.

"O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout Is with so vehement affection urged, Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere."

Such were the accents towards my lady breathed From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay'd; To whom she thus: "O everlasting light Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss He bare below! tent this man as thou wilt, With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith, By the which thou didst on the billows walk. If he in love, in hope, and in belief, Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith Has peopled this fair realm with citizens; Meet is, that to exalt its glory more, Thou, in his audience, shouldst thereof discourse."

Like to the bachelor, who arms himself, And speaks not, till the master have proposed The question, to approve, and not to end it; So I, in silence, arm'd me, while she spake, Summoning up each argument to aid; As was behoveful for such questioner, And such profession: "As good Christian ought, Declare thee, what is faith?" Whereat I raised My forehead to the light, whence this had breathed; Then turn'd to Beatrice; and in her looks Approval met, that from their inmost fount I should unlock the waters. "May the grace, That giveth me the captain of the Church For confessor," said I, "vouchsafe to me Apt utterance for my thoughts;" then added: "Sire! E'en as set down by the unerring style Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspired To bring Rome in unto the way of life, Faith of things hoped is substance, and the proof Of things not see; and herein doth consist Methinks its essence." - "Rightly hast thou deem'd," Was answer'd; "if thou well discern, why first He hath defined it substance, and then proof."

"The deep things," I replied, "which here I scan Distinctly, are below from mortal eye So hidden, they have in belief alone Their being; on which credence, hope sublime Is built: and, therefore substance, it intends. And inasmuch as we must needs infer From such belief our reasoning, all respect To other view excluded; hence of proof The intention is derived." Forthwith I heard: "If thus, whate'er by learning men attain, Were understood; the sophist would want room To exercise his wit." So breathed the flame Of love; then added: "Current is the coin Thou utter'st, both in weight and in alloy. But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse."

"Even so glittering and so round," said I, "I not a whit misdoubt of its assay." Next issued from the deep - imbosom'd splendour: "Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which Is founded every virtue, came to thee."

"The flood," I answer'd, "from the Spirit of God Rain'd down upon the ancient bond and new,[1] - Here is the reasoning that convinceth me So feelingly, each argument beside Seems blunt and forceless in comparison." Then heard I: "Wherefore holdest thou that each, The elder proposition and the new, Which so persuade thee, are the voice of Heaven?"

[1: "The ancient bond and new." The Old and New Testaments.]

"The works, that follow'd, evidence their truth," I answer'd: "Nature did not make for these The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them."

"Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves," Was the reply, "that they in very deed Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee."

"That all the world," said I, "should have been turn'd To Christian, and no miracle been wrought, Would in itself be such a miracle, The rest were not an hundredth part so great. E'en thou went'st forth in poverty and hunger To set the goodly plant, that, from the vine It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble."

That ended, through the high celestial court Resounded all the spheres, "Praise we one God!" In song of most unearthly melody. And when that Worthy[2] thus, from branch to branch, Examining, had led me, that we now Approach'd the topmost bough; he straight resumed: "The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul So far discreetly hath thy lips unclosed; That, whatsoe'er has past them, I commend. Behoves thee to express, what thou believest, The next; and, whereon, thy belief hath grown."

[2: "Quel Baron." In the next Canto, St. James is called "Barone." So in Boccaccio, G. vi. N. 10, we find "Baron Messer Santo Antonio."]

"O saintly sire and spirit!" I began, "Who seest that, which thou didst so believe, As to outstrip feet younger than thine own, Toward the sepulchre; thy will is here, That I the tenour of my creed unfold; And thou, the cause of it, hast likewise ask'd. And I reply: I in one God believe; One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love All Heaven is moved, Himself unmoved the while. Nor demonstration physical alone, Or more intelligential and abstruse, Persuades me to this faith: but from that truth It cometh to me rather, which is shed Through Moses; the rapt Prophets; and the Psalms; The Gospel; and what ye yourselves did write, When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost. I three eternal Persons I believe; Essence threefold and one; mysterious league Of union absolute, which, many a time, The word of gospel lore upon my mind Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark The lively flame dilates; and, like Heaven's star, Doth glitter in me." As the master hears, Well pleased, and then enfoldeth in his arms The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought, And having told the errand keeps his peace; Thus benediction uttering with song, Soon as my peace I held, compass'd me thrice

The apostolic radiance, whose behest Had oped my lips: so well their answer pleased.

Paradise Canto 25

Canto XXV

Argument

St. James questions our Poet concerning Hope. Next St. John appears; and, on perceiving that Dante looks intently on him, informs him that he, St. John, had left his body resolved into earth, upon the earth, and that Christ and the Virgin alone had come with their bodies into Heaven.

If e'er the sacred poem, that hath made Both Heaven and earth copartners in its toil, And with lean abstinence, through many a year, Faded my brow, be destined to prevail Over the cruelty, which bars me forth Of the fair sheep-fold,[1] where, a sleeping lamb, The wolves set on and fain had worried me; With other voice, and fleece of other grain, I shall forthwith return; and, standing up At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath Due to the poet's temples: for I there First enter'd on the faith, which maketh souls Acceptable to God: and, for its sake,[2] Peter had then circled my forehead thus.

[1: Florence, whence he was banished.]

[2: For the sake of that faith.]

Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth The first fruit of Christ's vicars on the earth, Toward us moved a light, at view whereof My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: "Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might, That makes Galicia throng'd with visitants."[3]

[3: "At the time that the sepulchre of the apostle St. James was discovered, the devotion for that place extended itself not only over all Spain, but even round about to foreign nations. Multitudes from all parts of the world came to visit it. Many others were deterred by the difficulty of the journey, by the roughness and barrenness of those parts, and by the incursions of the Moors, who made captives many of the pilgrims. The canons of St. Eloy, afterward (the precise time is not known), with a desire of remedying these evils, built, in many places along the whole road, which reached as far as to France, hospitals for the reception of the pilgrims."]

As when the ring - dove by his mate alights; In circles, each about the other wheels, And, murmuring, coos his fondness; thus saw I One, of the other[4] great and glorious prince, With kindly greeting, hail'd; extolling, both, Their heavenly banqueting: but when an end Was to their gratulation, silent, each, Before me sat they down, so burning bright, I could not look upon them. Smiling then, Beatrice spake: "O life in glory shrined! Who[5] didst the largess of our kingly court Set down with faithful pen, let now thy voice, Of hope the praises, in this height resound. For well thou know'st, who figurest it as oft, As Jesus, to ye three, more brightly shone." "Lift up thy head; and be thou strong in trust: For that, which hither from the mortal world Arriveth, must be ripen'd in our beam."

[4: "One , of the other." St. Peter and St. James.]

[5: 'Who." The Epistle of St. James is here attributed to the elder apostle of that name, whose shrine was at Compostella, in Galicia.]

Such cheering accents from the second flame[6] Assured me; and mine eyes I lifted up[7] Unto the mountains, that had bow'd them late With over - heavy burden. "Sith our Liege Wills of His grace, that thou, or e'er thy death, In the most secret council with His lords Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd The glories of our court, thou mayest therewith Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, What is that hope? how it doth flourish in thee? And whence thou hadst it?" Thus, proceeding still, The second light: and she, whose gentle love My soaring pennons in that lofty flight Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin'd: "Among her sons, not one more full of hope, Hath the Church Militant: so 'tis of him Recorded in the Sun, whose liberal orb Enlightened all our tribe: and ere his term Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,

[6: "The second flame." St. James.]

[7: "I lifted up." "I looked up to the apostles." "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." - Psalm cxxi. I.]

From Egypt to Jerusalem,[8] to see. The other points, both which[9] thou hast inquired, Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell How dear thou hold'st the virtue; these to him Leave I: for he may answer thee with ease, And without boasting, so God give him grace."

[8: From the lower world to Heaven.]

[9: One point Beatrice has herself answered: "how that hope flourishes in him." The other two remain for Dante to resolve.]

Like to the scholar, practised in his task, Who, willing to give proof of diligence, Seconds his teacher gladly; "Hope," said I, "Is of the joy to come a sure expectance, The effect of grace divine and merit preceding. This light from many a star, visits my heart; But flow'd to me, the first, from him who sang The songs of the Supreme; himself supreme Among his tuneful brethren. 'Let all hope In thee,' so spake his anthem, 'who have known Thy name;' and, with my faith, who knows not that? From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, In thine epistle, fell on me the drops So plenteously, that I on others shower The influence of their dew." Whileas I spake, A lamping, as of quick and volley'd lightning, Within the bosom of that mighty sheen[10] Play'd tremulous; then forth these accents breathed: "Love for the virtue, which attended me E'en to the palm, and issuing from the field, Glows vigorous yet within me; and inspires To ask of thee, whom also it delights, What promise thou from hope, in chief, dost win."

[10: "That mighty sheen." The spirit of St. James.]

"Both scriptures, new and ancient," I replied, "Propose the mark (which even now I view) For souls beloved of God. Isaias[11] saith, 'That, in their own land, each one must be clad In two - fold vesture;' and their proper land Is this delicious life. In terms more full,

[11: "Isaias." "He hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness. - Chap. lxi. 10.]

And clearer far, thy brother[12] hath set forth This revelation to us, where he tells Of the white raiment destined to the saints." And, as the words were ending, from above, "They hope in Thee!" first heard we cried: whereto Answer'd the carols all. Amidst them next, A light of so clear amplitude emerged, That winter's month were but a single day, Were such a crystal in the Cancer's sign.

[12: "Thy brother." St. John in the Rev. vii. 9.]

Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes, And enters on the mazes of the dance; Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent, Than to do fitting honour to the bride: So I beheld the new effulgence come Unto the other two, who in a ring Wheel'd, as became their rapture. In the dance, And in the song, it mingled. And the dame Held on them fix'd her looks; e'en as the spouse, Silent, and moveless. "This[13] is he, who lay Upon the bosom of our Pelican: This he, into whose keeping, from the Cross, The mighty charge was given." Thus she spake: Yet therefore naught the more removed her sight From marking them: or e'er her words began, Or when they closed. As he, who looks intent, And strives with searching ken, how he may see The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire Of seeing, loseth power of sight; so I[14] Peer'd on that last resplendence, while I heard: "Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that, Which here abides not? Earth my body is, In earth; and shall be, with the rest, so long, As till our number equal the decree Of the Most High. The two[15] that have ascended,

[13: St. John, who reclined on the bosom of our Saviour, and to whose charge Jesus recommended his mother.]

[14: "So I." He looked so earnestly, to descry whether St. John were present there in body, or in spirit only; having had his doubts raised by that saying of our Saviour's: "If I will, that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?"]

[15: Christ and Mary, described in Canto xxiii. as rising above his sight.]

In this our blessed cloister, shine alone With the two garments. So report below."

As when, for ease of labour, or to shun Suspected peril, at a whistle's breath, The oars, erewhile dash'd frequent in the wave, All rest: the flamy circle at that voice So rested; and the mingling sound was still, Which from the trinal band, soft - breathing, rose. I turn'd, but ah! how trembled in my thought, When, looking at my side again to see Beatrice, I described her not; although, Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.

Paradise Canto 26

Canto XXVI

Argument

St. John examines our Poet touching Charity. Afterward Adam tells when he was created, and placed in the terrestrial Paradise; how long he remained in that state; what was the occasion of his fall; when he was admitted into Heaven; and what language he spake.

With dazzled eyes, whilst wondering I remain'd; Forth of the beamy flame,[1] which dazzled me, Issued a breath, that in attention mute Detain'd me; and these words it spake: "'Twere well That, long as till thy vision, on my form O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then, Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires: And meanwhile rest assured, that sight in thee Is but o'erpower'd a space, not wholly quench'd; Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look Hath potency, the like to that, which dwelt In Ananias' hand."[2] I answering thus: "Be to mine eyes the remedy, or late Or early, at her pleasure; for they were The gates, at which she enter'd, and did light Her never - dying fire. My wishes here Are centred: in this palace is the weal, That Alpha and Omega is, to all

[1: "The beamy flame." St. John.]

[2: "Ananias' hand." Who, by putting his hand on St. Paul, restored his sight. Acts, ix. 17.]

The lessons love can read me." Yet again The voice, which had dispersed my fear when dazed With that excess, to converse urged, and spake: "Behoves thee sift more narrowly thy terms; And say, who level'd at this scope thy bow." "Philosophy," said I, "hath arguments, And this place hath authority enough, To imprint in me such love: for, of constraint, Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, Kindles our love; and in degree the more, As it comprises more of goodness in 't. The essence then, where such advantage is, That each good, found without it, is naught else But of His light the beam, must needs attract The soul of each one, loving, who the truth Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth Learn I from Him, who shows me the first love Of all intelligential substances Eternal: from His voice I learn, whose word Is truth; that of Himself to Moses saith, 'I will make all My good before thee pass:' Lastly, from thee I learn, who chief proclaim'st, E'en at the outset[3] of thy heralding, In mortal ears the mystery of Heaven."

[3: "At the outset." John i. I, etc.]

"Through human wisdom, and the authority Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep The choicest of thy love for God. But say, If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st, That draw thee towards Him; so that thou report How many are the fangs, with which this love Is grappled to thy soul." I did not miss, To what intent the eagle of our Lord[4] Had pointed his demand; yea, noted well The avowal which he led to; and resumed: "All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God, Confederate to make fast our charity. The being of the world; and mine own being; The death which He endured, that I should live; And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do;

[4: "The eagle of our Lord." St. John.]

To the foremention'd lively knowledge join'd; Have from the sea of ill love saved my bark, And on the coast secured it of the right. As for the leaves,[5] that in the garden bloom, My love for them is great, as is the good Dealt by the eternal hand, that tends them all."

[5: "The leaves." Created beings.]

I ended: and therewith a song most sweet Rang through the spheres; and "Holy, holy, holy," Accordant with the rest, my lady sang. And as a sleep is broken and dispersed Through sharp encounter of the nimble light, With the eye's spirit running forth to meet The ray, from membrane on to membrane urged; And the upstartled wight loathes that he sees; So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems Of all around him, till assurance waits On better judgment: thus the saintly dame Drove from before mine eyes the motes away, With the resplendence of her own, that cast Their brightness downward, thousand miles below. Whence I my vision, clearer than before, Recover'd; and well nigh astounded, ask'd Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.

And Beatrice: "The first living soul,[6] That ever the first Virtue framed, admires Within these rays his Maker." Like the leaf, That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown; By its own virtue rear'd, then stands aloof: So I, the whilst she said, awe - stricken bow'd. Then eagerness to speak embolden'd me; And I began: "O fruit! that wast alone Mature, when first engender'd; ancient father! That doubly seest in every wedded bride Thy daughter, by affinity and blood; Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold Converse with me: my will thou seest: and I, More speedily to hear thee, tell it not."

[6: "The first living soul." Adam.]

It chanceth oft some animal bewrays, Through the sleek covering of his furry coat,

The fondness, that stirs in him, and conforms His outside seeming to the cheer within: And in like guise was Adam's spirit moved To joyous mood, that through the covering shone, Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake: "No need thy will be told, which I untold Better discern, than thou whatever thing Thou hold'st most certain: for that will I see In Him, who is truth's mirror; and Himself, Parhelion unto all things, and naught else, To Him. This wouldst thou hear: how long since, God Placed me in that high garden, from whose bounds She led thee up this ladder, steep and long; What space endured my season of delight; Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish'd me; And what the language, which I spake and framed. Not that I tasted of the tree, my son, Was in itself the cause of that exile, But only my transgressing of the mark Assign'd me. There, whence[7] at thy lady's hest The Mantuan moved him, still was I debarr'd This council, till the sun had made complete, Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice, His annual journey; and, through every light In his broad pathway, saw I him return, Thousand save seventy times, the whilst I dwelt Upon the earth. The language I did use Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race Their unaccomplishable work began. For naught, that man inclines to, e'er was lasting; Left by his reason free, and variable As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks, Is nature's prompting: whether thus, or thus, She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it. Ere I descended into Hell's abyss, El was the name on earth of the Chief Good, Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then 'twas call'd.

[7: "Whence." That is, from Limbo. See Hell, Canto ii. 53. Adam says that 5,232 years elapsed from his creation to the time of his deliverance, which followed the death of Christ.]

And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use Is as the leaf upon the bough: that goes, And other comes instead. Upon the mount Most high above the waters, all my life, Both innocent and guilty, did but reach From the first hour, to that which cometh next (As the sun changes quarter) to the sixth."

Paradise Canto 27

Canto XXVII

Argument

St. Peter bitterly rebukes the covetousness of his successors in the Apostolic See, while all the heavenly host sympathize in his indignation; they then vanish upward. Beatrice bids Dante again cast his view below. Afterward they are borne into the ninth heaven, of which she shows him the nature and properties; blaming the perverseness of man, who places his will on low and perishable things.

Then "Glory to the Father, to the Son, And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud Throughout all Paradise; that with the song My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain. And what I saw was equal ecstasy: One universal smile it seem'd of all things; Joy past compare; gladness unutterable; Imperishable life of peace and love; Exhaustless riches, and unmeasured bliss.

Before mine eyes stood the four torches[1] lit: And that,[2] which first had come, began to wax In brightness; and, in semblance, such became, As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds, And interchanged their plumes. Silence ensued, Through the blest quire; by Him, who here appoints Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd; When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue Be changed; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see All in like manner change with me. My place He[3] who usurps on earth, (my place, ay, mine, Which in the presence of the Son of God Is void,) the same hath made my cemetery A common sewer of puddle and of blood:

[1: "Four torches." St. Peter, St. James, St. John, and Adam.]

[2: "That." St. Peter, who looked as the planet Jupiter would, if it assumed the sanguine appearance of Mars.]

[3: "He." Boniface VIII.]

The more below his triumph, who from hence Malignant fell." Such colour, as the sun, At eve or morning, paints an adverse cloud, Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky. And as the unblemish'd dame, who, in herself Secure of censure, yet at bare report Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear; So Beatrice, in her semblance, changed: And such eclipse in Heaven, methinks, was seen, When the Most Holy suffer'd. Then the words Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself So clean, the semblance did not alter more. "Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood, With that of Linus, and of Cletus,[4] fed; That she might serve for purchase of base gold: But for the purchase of this happy life, Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed, And Urban;[5] they, whose doom was not without Much weeping seal'd. No purpose was of ours,[6] That on the right hand of our successors, Part of the Christian people should be set, And part upon their left; nor that the keys, Which were vouchsafed me, should for ensign serve Unto the banners, that do levy war On the baptized; nor I, for sigil - mark, Set upon sold and lying privileges: Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red. In shepherd's clothing, greedy wolves[7] below Range wide o'er all the pastures. Arm of God! Why longer sleep'st thou? Cahorsines and Gascons[8] Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning! To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop. But the high Providence, which did defend,

[4: Bishops of Rome in the first century.]

[5: The former two, bishops of the same see, in the second; and the others, in the fourth century.]

[6: "We did not intend that our successors should take any part in the political divisions among Christians; or that my figure (the seal of St. Peter) should serve as a mark to authorize iniquitous grants and privileges."]

[7: "Wolves shall succeed to teachers, grievous wolves." - Milton, "Paradise Lost," b. xii 508.]

[8: He alludes to Jacques d'Ossa, a native of Cahors, pope, as John XXII, in 1316, after the chair had been two years vacant, and to Clement V, a Gascon.]

Through Scipio, the world's empery for Rome, Will not delay its succour: and thou, son, Who through thy mortal weight shalt yet again Return below, open thy lips, nor hide What is by me not hidden." As a flood Of frozen vapours streams adown the air, What time the she - goat[9] with her skiey horn Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide The vapours, who with us had linger'd late, And with glad triumph deck the ethereal cope. Onward my sight their semblances pursued; So far pursued, as till the space between From its reach sever'd them: whereat the guide Celestial, marking me no more intent On upward gazing, said, "Look down, and see What circuit thou hast compast." From the hour[10] When I before had cast my view beneath, All the first region overpast I saw, Which from the midmost to the boundary winds; That onward, thence, from Gades,[11] I beheld The unwise passage of Laertes' son; And hitherward the shore,[12] where thou Europa, Madest thee a joyful burden; and yet more Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun,[13] A constellation off and more, had ta'en His progress in the zodiac underneath.

[9: When the sun is in Capricorn.]

[10: "From the hour." Since he had last looked (see Canto xxii) he perceived that he had passed from the meridian circle to the eastern horizon; the half of our hemisphere, and a quarter of the heaven.]

[11: See Hell, Canto xxvi. 106.]

[12: Phoenicia, where Europa, daughter of Agenor, mounted on the back of Jupiter, in his shape of a bull.]

[13: "The sun." Dante was in the constellation of Gemini, and the sun in Aries. There was, therefore, part of those two constellations, and the whole of Taurus, between them.]

Then by the spirit, that doth never leave Its amorous dalliance with my lady's looks, Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles, Whenas I turn'd me, pleasure so divine Did lighten on me, that whatever bait Or art or nature in the human flesh, Or in its limn'd resemblance, can combine

Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal, Were, to her beauty, nothing. Its boon influence From the fair nest of Leda[14] rapt me forth, And wafted on into the swiftest Heaven.

[14: "The fair nest of Leda." From the Gemini; thus called, because Leda was the mother of the twins, Castor and Pollux.]

What place for entrance Beatrice chose, I may not say; so uniform was all, Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish Divined; and, with such gladness, that God's love Seem'd from her visage shining, thus began: "Here is the goal, whence motion on his race Starts: motionless the centre, and the rest All moved around. Except the soul divine. Place in this Heaven is none; the soul divine, Wherein the love, which ruleth o'er its orb, Is kindled, and the virtue, that it sheds: One circle, light and love, enclasping it, As this doth clasp the others; and to Him, Who draws the bound, its limit only known. Measured itself by none, it doth divide Motion to all, counted unto them forth, As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten. The vase, wherein time's roots are plunged, thou seest: Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust! That canst not lift thy head above the waves Which whelm and sink thee down. The will in man Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain, Made mere abortion: faith and innocence Are met with but in babes; each taking leave, Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled: he, that fasts While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose Gluts every food alike in every moon: One, yet a babbler, loves and listens to His mother; but no sooner hath free use Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave. So suddenly doth the fair child of him, Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting, To negro blackness change her virgin white.

"Thou, to abate thy wonder, note, that none Bears rule in earth; and its frail family Are therefore wanderers. Yet before the date, When through the hundredth in his reckoning dropt, Pale January must be shoved aside From winter's calendar, these heavenly spheres Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain[15] To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow; So that the fleet run onward: and true fruit, Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom."

[15: "Fortune shall be fain." The commentators in general suppose that our Poet here augurs that great reform which he vainly hoped would follow on the arrival of the Emperor Henry VII in Italy.]

Paradise Canto 28

Canto XXVIII

Argument

Still in the ninth heaven, our Poet is permitted to behold the divine essence; and then sees, in three hierarchies, the nine choirs of angels. Beatrice clears some difficulties which occur to him on this occasion.

So she, who doth imparadise my soul, Had drawn the veil from off our present life, And bared the truth of poor mortality: When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies The shining of a flambeau at his back, Lit sudden ere he deem of its approach, And turneth to resolve him, if the glass Have told him true, and sees the record faithful As note is to its metre; even thus, I well remember, did befal to me, Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love Had made the leash to take me. As I turn'd: And that which none, who in that volume looks, Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck My view; a point I saw, that darted light So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up Against its keenness. The least star we ken From hence, had seem'd a moon; set by its side, As star by side of star. And so far off, Perchance, as is the halo from the light Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads;

There wheel'd about the point a circle of fire, More rapid than the motion which surrounds, Speediest, the world. Another this enring'd; And that a third; the third a fourth, and that A fifth encompass'd; which a sixth next bound; And over this, a seventh, following, reach'd Circumference so ample, that its bow, Within the span of Juno's messenger, Had scarce been held entire. Beyond a seventh, Ensued yet other two. And every one, As more in number distant from the first, Was tardier in motion: and that glow'd With flame most pure, that to the sparkle of truth, Was nearest; as partaking most, methinks, Of its reality. The guide beloved Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake: "Heaven, and all nature, hangs upon that point. The circle thereto most conjoin'd observe; And know, that by intenser love its course Is, to this swiftness, wing'd." To whom I thus: "It were enough; nor should I further seek, Had I but witness'd order, in the world Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen. But in the sensible world such difference is, That in each round shows more divinity, As each is wider from the centre. Hence, If in this wondrous and angelic temple, That hath, for confine, only light and love, My wish may have completion, I must know, Wherefore such disagreement is between The exemplar and its copy: for myself, Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause."

"It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil'd Do leave the knot untied: so hard 'tis grown For want of tenting." Thus she said: "But take," She added, "if thou wish thy cure, my words, And entertain them subtly. Every orb, Corporeal, doth proportion its extent Unto the virtue through its parts diffused. The greater blessedness preserves the more, The greater is the body (if all parts Share equally) the more is to preserve. Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels The universal frame, answers to that Which is supreme in knowledge and in love. Thus by the virtue, not the seeming breadth Of substance, measuring, thou shalt see the Heavens, Each to the intelligence that ruleth it, Greater to more, and smaller unto less, Suited in strict and wondrous harmony."

As when the north blows from his milder cheek A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air, Clear'd of the rack that hung on it before, Glitters; and, with his beauties all unveil'd, The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles: Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove With clear reply the shadows back, and truth Was manifested, as a star in Heaven. And when the words were ended, not unlike To iron in the furnace, every cirque, Ebullient, shot forth scintillating fires: And every sparkle shivering to new blaze, In number[1] did outmillion the account Reduplicate upon the chequer'd board. Then heard I echoing on, from choir to choir, "Hosanna," to the fixed point, that holds, And shall for ever hold them to their place, From everlasting, irremovable.

[1: "In number." The sparkles exceeded the number which would be produced by the sixty - four squares of a chess - board, if for the first we reckoned one; for the next, two; for the third, four; and so went on doubling to the end of the account.]

Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw My inward meditations, thus began: "In the first circles, they, whom thou beheld'st Are Seraphim and Cherubim. Thus swift Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point, Near as they can, approaching; and they can The more, the loftier their vision. Those That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next, Are Thrones; in whom the first trine ends. And all

Are blessed, even as their sight descends Deeper into the Truth, wherein rest is For every mind. Thus happiness hath root In seeing, not in loving, which of sight Is aftergrowth. And of the seeing such The meed, as unto each, in due degree, Grace and good - will their measure have assign'd. The other trine, that with still opening buds In this eternal springtide blossom fair, Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram,[2] Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold Hosannas, blending ever; from the three, Transmitted, hierarchy of gods, for aye Rejoicing; dominations first; next them, Virtues; and powers the third; the next to whom Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round To tread their festal ring; and last, the band Angelical, disporting in their sphere. All, as they circle in their orders, look Aloft; and, downward, with such sway prevail, That all with mutual impulse tend to God. These once a mortal view beheld. Desire In Dionysius,[3] so intensely wrought, That he, as I have done, ranged them; and named, Their orders, marshal'd in his thought. From him, Dissentient, one refused his sacred read. But soon as in this Heaven his doubting eyes Were open'd, Gregory[4] at his error smiled. Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt[5]

[2: Not injured, like spring products, by the influence of autumn, when the constellation Aries rises at sunset.]

[3: The Areopagite, in his book "De Coelesti Hierarchia."]

[4: "Gregory." Gregory the Great.]

[5: "He had learnt." Dionysius, he says, had learnt from St. Paul. The book above referred to, which goes under his name, was the production of a later age. In Bishop Bull's seventh sermon, which treats of the different degrees of beatitude in Heaven, there is much that resembles what is said on the same subject by our Poet. The learned prelate, however, appears a little inconsistent, when, after having blamed Dionysius the Areopagite, "for reckoning up exactly the several orders of the angelical hierarchy, as if he had seen a muster of the heavenly host before his eyes" (v. i. p. 313), he himself speaks more particularly of the several orders in the celestial hierarchy than Holy Scripture warrants.]

Both this and much beside of these our orbs, From an eye - witness to Heaven's mysteries."

Paradise Canto 29

Canto XXIX

Argument

Beatrice beholds, in the mirror of divine truth, some doubts which had entered the mind of Dante. These she resolves; and then digresses into a vehement reprehension of certain theologians and preachers in those days, whose ignorance or avarice induced them to substitute their own inventions for the pure word of the Gospel.

No longer, than what time Latona's twins Cover'd of Libra and the fleecy star, Together both, girding the horizon hang; In even balance, from the zenith poised; Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere, Part the nice level; e'en so brief a space Did Beatrice's silence hold. A smile Sat painted on her cheek; and her fix'd gaze Bent on the point, at which my vision fail'd: When thus, her words resuming, she began: "I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand; For I have mark'd it, where all time and place Are present. Not for increase to Himself Of good, which may not be increased, but forth To manifest His glory by its beams; Inhabiting His own eternity, Beyond time's limit or what bound soe'er To circumscribe His being; as He will'd, Into new natures, like unto Himself, Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before, As if in dull inaction, torpid, lay. For, not in process of before or aft, Upon these waters moved the Spirit of God. Simple and mix'd, both form and substance, forth To perfect being started, like three darts Shot from a bow three - corded. And as ray In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire, E'en at the moment of its issuing; thus Did, from the eternal Sovran, beam entire His threefold operation, at one act Produced coeval. Yet, in order, each Created his due station knew: those highest, Who pure intelligence were made; mere power, The lowest; in the midst, bound with strict league, Intelligence and power, unsever'd bond. Long tract of ages by the Angels past, Ere the creating of another world, Described on Jerome's pages,[1] thou hast seen. But that what I disclose to thee is true, Those penmen,[2] whom the Holy Spirit moved In many a passage of their sacred book, Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find: And reason,[3] in some sort, discerns the same, Who scarce would grant the heavenly ministers, Of their perfection void, so long a space. Thus when and where these spirits of love were made, Thou know'st, and how: and, knowing, hast allay'd Thy thirst, which from the triple question[4] rose. Ere one had reckon'd twenty, e'en so soon, Part of the Angels fell: and in their fall, Confusion to your elements ensued. The others kept their station: and this task, Whereon thou look'st, began, with such delight, That they surcease not ever, day nor night, Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen Pent with the world's incumbrance. Those, whom here Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves Of His free bounty, who had made them apt For ministeries so high: therefore their views Were, by enlightening grace and their own merit, Exalted; so that in their will confirm'd They stand, nor fear to fall. For do not doubt, But to receive the grace, which Heaven vouchsafes,

[1: Jerome had described the Angels as created long before the rest of the universe; an opinion which Thomas Aquinas controverted.]

[2: As in Gen. i. I, and Eccles. xviii. I.]

[3: "Reason." The heavenly ministers ("motori") would have existed to no purpose if they had been created before the corporeal world, which they were to govern.]

[4: He had wished to know where, when, and how the Angels had been created, and these three questions had been resolved.]

Is meritorious, even as the soul With prompt affection welcometh the guest. Now, without further help, if with good heed My words thy mind have treasured, thou henceforth This consistory round about mayst scan, And gaze thy fill. But, since thou hast on earth Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools, Canvass the angelic nature, and dispute Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice; Therefore, 'tis well thou take from me the truth, Pure and without disguise; which they below, Equivocating, darken and perplex.

"Know thou, that, from the first, these substances, Rejoicing in the countenance of God, Have held unceasingly their view, intent Upon the glorious vision, from the which Nought absent is nor hid: where then no change Of newness, with succession, interrupts, Remembrance, there, needs none to gather up Divided thought and images remote.

"So that men, thus at variance with the truth, Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some Of error; others well aware they err, To whom more guilt and shame are justly due. Each the known track of sage philosophy Deserts, and has a bye - way of his own: So much the restless eagerness to shine, And love of singularity prevail. Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes Heaven's anger less, than when the Book of God Is forced to yield to man's authority, Or from its straightness warp'd: no reckoning made What blood the sowing of it in the world Has cost; what favour for himself he wins, Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all Is how to shine: e'en they, whose office is To preach the Gospel, let the Gospel sleep, And pass their own inventions off instead. One tells, how at Christ's suffering the wan moon Bent back her steps, and shadow'd o'er the sun With intervenient disk, as she withdrew: Another, how the light shrouded itself Within its tabernacle, and left dark The Spaniard, and the Indian, with the Jew. Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears, Bandied about more frequent, than the names Of Bindi and of Lapi[5] in her streets. The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails For their excuse, they do not see their harm? Christ said not to His first conventicle, 'Go forth and preach impostures to the world,' But gave them truth to build on; and the sound Was mighty on their lips: nor needed they, Beside the Gospel, other spear or shield, To aid them in their warfare for the faith. The preacher now provides himself with store Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl Distends, and he has won the meed he sought: Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood, They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said, Which now the dotards hold in such esteem, That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad The hands of holy promise, finds a throng Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony Fattens with this his swine,[6] and others worse Than swine, who diet at his lazy board, Paying with unstampt metal[7] for their fare,

[5: Common names at Florence.]

[6: On the sale of these blessings, the brothers of St. Anthony supported themselves and their paramours. From behind the swine of St. Anthony, our Poet levels a blow at Boniface VIII, from whom, in 1297, they obtained the privileges of an independent congregation.]

[7: With false indulgences.]

"But (for we far have wander'd) let us seek The forward path again; so as the way Be shorten'd with the time. No mortal tongue, Nor thought of man, hath ever reach'd so far, That of these natures he might count the tribes. What Daniel[8] of their thousands hath reveal'd,

[8: "Daniel." "Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him" - Dan. vii. 10.]

With finite number, infinite conceals. The fountain, at whose source these drink their beams, With light supplies them in as many modes, As there are splendours that it shines on: each According to the virtue it conceives, Differing in love and sweet affection. Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth The eternal Might, which, broken and dispersed Over such countless mirrors, yet remains Whole in itself and one, as at the first."

Paradise Canto 30

Canto XXX

Argument

Dante is taken up with Beatrice into the empyrean; and there having his sight strengthened by her aid, and by the virtue derived from looking on the river of light, he sees the triumph of the Angels and of the souls of the blessed.

Noon's fervid hour perchance six thousand miles[1] From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone Almost to level on our earth declines; When, from the midmost of this blue abyss, By turns some star is to our vision lost. And straightway as the handmaid of the sun Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light, Fade; and the spangled firmament shuts in, E'en to the loveliest of the glittering throng. Thus vanish'd gradually from my sight The triumph, which plays ever round the point, That overcame me, seeming (for it did) Engirt[2] by that it girdeth. Wherefore love, With loss of other object, forced me bend Mine eyes on Beatrice once again.

[1: He compares the vanishing of the vision to the fading away of the stars at dawn, when it is noonday 6,000 miles off, and the shadow, formed by the earth over the part of it inhabited by the Poet, is about to disappear.]

[2: "Appearing to be encompassed by these angelic bands, which are in reality encompassed by it."]

If all, that hitherto is told of her, Were in one praise concluded, 'twere too weak To furnish out this turn. Mine eyes did look On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth,

Not merely to exceed our human; but, That save its Maker, none can to the full Enjoy it. At this point o'erpower'd I fail; Unequal to my theme; as never bard Of buskin or of sock hath fail'd before. For as the sun doth to the feeblest sight, E'en so remembrance of that witching smile Hath dispossest my spirit of itself. Not from that day, when on this earth I first Beheld her charms, up to that view of them, Have I with song applausive ever ceased To follow; but now follow them no more; My course here bounded, as each artist's is, When it doth touch the limit of his skill.

She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on Urging its arduous matter to the close) Her words resumed, in gesture and in voice Resembling one accustom'd to command: "Forth[3] from the last corporeal are we come Into the Heaven, that is unbodied light; Light intellectual, replete with love; Love of true happiness, replete with joy; Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight. Here shalt thou look on either mighty host[4] Of Paradise; and one in that array, Which in the final judgment thou shalt see."

[3: From the ninth sphere to the empyrean, which is mere light.]

[4: Of Angels, that remained faithful, and of beatified souls; the latter in the form they will have at the last day.]

As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes The visive spirits, dazzled and bedimm'd; So, round about me, fulminating streams Of living radiance play'd, and left me swathed And veiled in dense impenetrable blaze. Such weal is in the love, that stills this heaven; For its own flame[5] the torch thus fitting ever.

[5: Thus disposing the spirits to receive its own beatific light.]

No sooner to my listening ear had come The brief assurance, than I understood New virtue into me infused, and sight Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain Excess of light however pure. I look'd; And, in the likeness of a river, saw Light flowing, from whose amber - seeming waves Flash'd up effulgence, as they glided on 'Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring, Incredible how fair: and, from the tide, There ever and anon, outstarting, flew Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flowers Did set them, like to rubies, chased in gold: Then, as if drunk with odours, plunged again Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one Re - enter'd, still another rose. "The thirst Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflamed, To search the meaning of what here thou seest, The more it warms thee, pleases me the more, But first behoves thee of this water drink, Or e'er that longing be allay'd." So spake The day - star of mine eyes: then thus subjoin'd: "This stream; and these, forth issuing from its gulf, And diving back, a living topaz each; With all this laughter on its bloomy shores; Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things Are crude; but on thy part is the defect, For that thy views not yet aspire so high."

Never did babe, that had outslept his wont, Rush, which such eager straining, to the milk, As I toward the water; bending me, To make the better mirrors of mine eyes In the refining wave: and as the eaves Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith Seem'd it unto me turn'd from length to round. Then as a troop of maskers, when they put Their vizors off, look other than before; The counterfeited semblance thrown aside: So into greater jubilee were changed Those flowers and sparkles; and distinct I saw, Before me, either court of Heaven display'd.

O prime enlightener! thou who gavest me strength On the high triumph of Thy realm to gaze; Grant virtue not to utter what I kenn'd.

There is in Heaven a light, whose goodly shine Makes the Creator visible to all Created, that in seeing Him alone Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far, That the circumference were too loose a zone To girdle in the sun. All is one beam, Reflected from the summit of the first, That moves, which being hence and vigour takes. And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes His image mirror'd in the crystal flood, As if to admire his brave apparelling Of verdure and of flowers; so, round about, Eying the light, on more than million thrones, Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth Has to the skies return'd. How wide the leaves, Extended to their utmost, of this rose, Whose lowest step embosoms such a space Of ample radiance! Yet, nor amplitude Nor height impeded, but my view with ease Took in the full dimensions of that joy. Near or remote, what there avails, where God Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends Her sway? Into the yellow of the rose Perennial, which, in bright expansiveness, Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent Of praises to the never - wintering sun, As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace, Beatrice led me; and, "Behold," she said, "This fair assemblage; stoles of snowy white, How numberless. The city, where we dwell, Behold how vast; and these our seats so throng'd, Few now are wanting here. In that proud stall, On which, the crown, already o'er its state Suspended, holds thine eyes - or e'er thyself Mayst at the wedding sup - shall rest the soul Of the great Harry,[6] he who, by the world Augustus hail'd, to Italy must come, Before her day be ripe. But ye are sick, And in your tetchy wantonness as blind, As is the bantling, that of hunger dies, And drives away the nurse. Nor may it be, That he,[7] who in the sacred forum sways, Openly or in secret, shall with him Accordant walk: whom God will not endure I' the holy office long; but thrust him down To Simon Magus, where Alagna's priest[8] Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed."

[6: "Of the great Harry." The Emperor Henry VII, who died in 1313. "Henry, Count of Luxemburg, held the imperial power three years, seven months and eighteen days from his first coronation to his death. He was a man wise, and just, and gracious; brave and intrepid in arms; a man of honor and a good catholic; and although by his lineage he was of no great condition, yet he was of a magnanimous heart, much feared and held in awe; and if he had lived longer, would have done the greatest things." G. Villani.]

[7: Clement V. See Canto xxvii. 53.]

[8: "Alagna's priest." Pope Boniface VIII. Hell, Canto xix. 79.]

Paradise Canto 31

Canto XXXI

Argument

The Poet expatiates further on the glorious vision described in the last Canto. On looking round for Beatrice, he finds that she has left him, and that an old man is at his side. This proves to be St. Bernard, who shows him that Beatrice has returned to her throne, and then points out to him the blessedness of the Virgin Mother.

In fashion, as a snow white rose, lay then Before my view the saintly multitude,[1] Which in His own blood Christ espoused. Meanwhile, That other host,[2] that soar aloft to gaze And celebrate His glory, whom they love, Hover'd around; and, like a troop of bees, Amid the vernal sweets alighting now, Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows, Flew downward to the mighty flower, or rose From the redundant petals, streaming back Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy, Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold:

[1: Human souls, advanced to this state of glory through the mediation of Christ.]

[2: "That other host." The Angels.]

The rest was whiter than the driven snow; And, as they flitted down into the flower, From range to range, fanning their plumy loins, Whisper'd the peace and ardour, which they won From that soft winnowing. Shadow none, the vast Interposition of such numerous flight Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view Obstructed aught. For, through the universe, Wherever merited, celestial light Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents.

All there, who reign in safety and in bliss, Ages long past or new, on one sole mark Their love and vision fix'd. O trinal beam Of individual star, that charm'st them thus! Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below.[3]

[3: To guide us through the dangers of this tempestuous life.]

If the grim brood,[4] from Arctic shores that roam'd, (Where Helice[5] for ever, as she wheels, Sparkles a mother's fondness on her son), Stood in mute wonder' mid the works of Rome, When to their view the Lateran arose In greatness more than earthly; I, who then From human to divine had past, from time Unto eternity, and out of Florence To justice and to truth, how might I chuse But marvel too? 'Twixt gladness and amaze, In sooth no will had I to utter aught, Or hear. And, as a pilgrim, when he rests Within the temple of his vow, looks round In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell Of all its goodly state; e'en so mine eyes Coursed up and down along the living light, Now low, and now aloft, and now around, Visiting every step. Looks I beheld, Where charity in soft persuasion sat; Smiles from within, and radiance from above; And, in each gesture, grace and honour high.

[4: "If the grim brood." The northern hordes who invaded Rome.]

[5: "Helice." Callistro, and her son Arcas, changed into the constellation of the Greater Bear and Arctophylax, or Bootes.]

So roved my ken, and in its general form All Paradise survey'd: when round I turn'd With purpose of my lady to inquire Once more of things, that held my thought suspense. But answer found from other than I ween'd; For, Beatrice, when I thought to see, I saw instead a senior, at my side, Robed, as the rest, in glory. Joy benign Glow'd in his eye, and o'er his cheek diffused, With gestures such as spake a father's love. And, "Whither is she vanish'd?" straight I ask'd.

"By Beatrice summon'd," he replied, "I come to aid thy wish. Looking aloft To the third circle from the highest, there Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit Hath placed her." Answering not, mine eyes I raised, And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow A wreath reflecting of eternal beams. Not from the centre of the sea so far Unto the region of the highest thunder, As was my ken from hers; and yet the form Came through that medium down, unmix'd and pure.

"O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest; Who, for my safety, hast not scorn'd, in Hell To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark'd; for all mine eyes have seen, I to thy power And goodness, virtue owe and grace. Of slave Thou hast to freedom brought me: and no means, For my deliverance apt, hast left untried. Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep: That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole, Is loosen'd from this body, it may find Favour with thee." So I my suit preferr'd: And she, so distant, as appear'd, look'd down, And smiled; then toward the eternal fountain turn'd.

And thus the senior, holy and revered: "That thou at length mayst happily conclude Thy voyage, (to which end I was despatch'd, By supplication moved and holy love), Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large, This garden through: for so, by ray divine Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount; And from Heaven's Queen, whom fervent I adore, All gracious aid befriend us; for that I Am her own faithful Bernard."[6] Like a wight, Who haply from Croatia wends to see Our Veronica,[7] and, the while 'tis shown, Hangs over it with never - sated gaze, And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith Unto himself in thought: "And didst Thou look E'en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God? And was this semblance Thine?" So gazed I then Adoring; for the charity of him,[8] Who musing, in this world that peace enjoy'd, Stood livelily before me. "Child of grace!" Thus he began: "Thou shalt not knowledge gain Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held Still in this depth below. But search around The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy Seated in state, the Queen[9] that of this realm Is sovran." Straight mine eyes I raised; and bright, As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime Above the horizon, where the sun declines; So to mine eyes, that upward, as from vale To mountain sped, at the extreme bound, a part Excell'd in lustre all the front opposed. And as the glow burns ruddiest o'er the wave, That waits the ascending team, which Phaeton Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light Diminish'd fades, intensest in the midst; So burn'd the peaceful oriflame, and slack'd On every side the living flame decay'd.

[6: "Bernard." St. Bernard, the venerable Abbot of Clairvaux, and the great promoter of the Second Crusade, who died A. D. 1153, in his sixty - third year. He has been termed the last of the fathers of the Church. That the part he acts in the present poem should be assigned to him, appears somewhat remarkable, when we consider that he severely censured the new festival established in honor of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin, and "opposed the doctrine itself with the greatest vigor, as it supposed her being honored with a privilege which belonged to Christ alone."]

[7: A copy in miniature of the picture of Christ, which is supposed to have been miraculously imprinted upon a handkerchief preserved in the church of St. Peter at Rome.]

[8: "Him." St. Bernard.]

[9: "The queen." The Virgin Mary.]

And in that midst their sportive pennons waved Thousands of Angels; in resplendence each Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee And carol, smiled the Lovely One of Heaven, That joy was in the eyes of all the blest.

Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich, As is the colouring in fancy's loom, 'Twere all too poor to utter the least part Of that enchantment. When he saw mine eyes Intent on her, that charm'd him; Bernard gazed With so exceeding fondness, as infused Ardour into my breast, unfelt before.

Paradise Canto 32

Canto XXXII

Argument

St. Bernard shows him, on their several thrones, the other blessed souls, of both the Old and New Testament; explains to him that their places are assigned them by grace, and not according to merit; and, lastly, tells him that if he would obtain power to descry what remained of the heavenly vision, he must unite with him in supplication to Mary.

Freely the sage, though wrapt in musings high, Assumed the teacher's part, and mild began: "The wound, that Mary closed, she[1] open'd first, Who sits so beautiful at Mary's feet. The third in order, underneath her, lo! Rachel with Beatrice: Sarah next; Judith; Rebecca; and the gleaner - maid, Meek ancestress[2] of him, who sang the songs Of sore repentance in his sorrowful mood. All, as I name them, down from leaf to leaf, Are, in gradation, throned on the rose. And from the seventh step, successively, Adown the breathing tresses of the flower, Still doth the file of Hebrew dames proceed. For these are a partition wall, whereby The sacred stairs are sever'd, as the faith In Christ divides them. On this part, where blooms Each leaf in full maturity, are set Such as in Christ, or e'er He came, believed. On the other, where an intersected space

[1: Eve.]

[2: Ruth, the ancestress of David.]

Yet shows the semicircle void, abide All they, who look'd to Christ already come And as our Lady on her glorious stool, And they who on their stools beneath her sit, This way distinction make; e'en so on his, The mighty Baptist that way marks the line (He who endured the desert, and the pains Of martyrdom, and, for two years,[3] of Hell, Yet still continued holy), and beneath, Augustin;[4] Francis;[5] Benedict;[6] and the rest, Thus far from round to round. So Heaven's decree Forecasts, this garden equally to fill, With faith in either view, past or to come. Learn too, that downward from the step, which cleaves, Midway, the twain compartments, none there are Who place obtain for merit of their own, But have through others' merit been advanced, On set conditions; spirits all released, Ere for themselves they had the power to chuse. And, if thou mark and listen to them well, Their childish looks and voice declare as much.

[3: The time that elapsed between the death of the Baptist and his redemption by the death of Christ.]

[4: Bishop of Hippo, fourth century. See also Canto x. 117.]

[5: "Francis." See Canto xi.]

[6: "Benedict." See Canto xxii.]

"Here, silent as thou art, I know thy doubt; And gladly will I loose the knot, wherein Thy subtile thoughts have bound thee. From this realm Excluded, chance no entrance here may find; No more than hunger, thirst, or sorrow can. A law immutable hath stablish'd all; Nor is there aught thou seest, that doth not fit, Exactly, as the finger to the ring. It is not, therefore, without cause, that these O'erspeedy comers to immortal life, Are different in their shares of excellence. Our Sovran Lord, that settleth this estate In love and in delight so absolute, That wish can dare no further, every soul, Created in His joyous sight to dwell, With grace, at pleasure, variouslyeendows.

And for a proof the effect may well suffice. And 'tis moreover most expressly mark'd In holy Scripture, where the twins are said To have struggled in the womb. Therefore, as grace Inweaves the coronet, so every brow Weareth its proper hue of orient light. And merely in respect to his prime gift, Not in reward of meritorious deed, Hath each his several degree assign'd. In early times with their own innocence More was not wanting than the parents' faith, To save them: those first ages past, behoved That circumcision in the males should imp The flight of innocent wings: but since the day Of grace hath come, without baptismal rites In Christ accomplish'd, innocence herself Must linger yet below. Now raise thy view Unto the visage most resembling Christ: For, in her splendour only, shalt thou win The power to look on Him." Forthwith I saw Such floods of gladness on her visage shower'd, From holy spirits, winging that profound; That, whatsoever I had yet beheld, Had not so much suspended me with wonder, Or shown me such similitude of God. And he, who had to her descended, once, On earth, now hail'd in Heaven; and on poised wing, "Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena," sang: To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court, From all parts answering, rang: that holier joy Brooded the deep serene. "Father revered! Who deign'st, for me, to quit the pleasant place Wherein thou sittest, by eternal lot; Say, who that Angel is, that with such glee Beholds our Queen, and so enamour'd glows Of her high beauty, that all fire he seems."

So I again resorted to the lore Of my wise teacher, he, whom Mary's charms Embellish'd, as the sun the morning star; Who thus in answer spake: "In him are summ'd, Whate'er of buxomness and free delight May be in spirit, or in Angel, met: And so beseems: for that he bare the palm Down unto Mary, when the Son of God Vouchsafed to clothe Him in terrestial weeds. Now let thine eyes wait heedful on my words; And note thou of this just and pious realm The chiefest nobles. Those, highest in bliss, The twain, on each hand next our Empress throned, Are as it were two roots unto this rose: He to the left, the parent, whose rash taste Proves bitter to his seed; and, on the right, That ancient father of the holy Church, Into whose keeping Christ did give the keys Of this sweet flower; near whom behold the seer,[7] That, ere, he died, saw all the grievous times Of the fair bride, who with the lance and nails Was won. And, near unto the other, rests The leader, under whom, on manna, fed The ungrateful nation, fickle and perverse. On the other part, facing to Peter, lo! Where Anna sits, so well content to look On her loved daughter, that with moveless eye She chants the loud hosanna: while, opposed To the first father of your mortal kind, Is Lucia,[8] at whose hest thy lady sped, When on the edge of ruin closed thine eye.

[7: St. John.]

[8: See Hell, Canto ii. 97, and Purgatory, Canto ix. 50.]

"But (for the vision hasteneth to an end) Here break we off, as the good workman doth, That shapes the clock according to the cloth; And to the Primal Love our ken shall rise; That thou mayst penetrate the brightness, far As sight can bear thee. Yet, alas! in sooth Beating thy pennons, thinking to advance, Thou backward fall'st. Grace then must first be gain'd; Her grace, whose might can help thee. Thou in prayer Seek her: and, with affection, whilst I sue, Attend, and yield me all thy heart." He said; And thus the saintly orison began.

Paradise Canto 33

Canto XXXIII

Argument

St. Bernard supplicates the Virgin Mary that Dante may have grace given him to contemplate the brightness of the Divine Majesty, which is accordingly granted; and Dante then himself prays to God for ability to show forth some part of the celestial glory in his writings. Lastly, he is admitted to a glimpse of the great mystery; the Trinity, and the Union of Man with God.

"O Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son! Created beings all in lowliness Surpassing, as in height above them all; Term by the eternal counsel pre - ordain'd; Ennobler of thy nature, so advanced In thee, that its great Maker did not scorn, To make Himself his own creation; For in thy womb rekindling shone the love Reveal'd, whose genial influence makes now This flower to germin in eternal peace: Here thou to us, of charity and love, Art, as the noon - day torch; and art, beneath, To mortal men, of hope a living spring. So mighty art thou, Lady, and so great, That he, who grace desireth, and comes not To thee for aidance, fain would have desire Fly without wings. Not only him, who asks, Thy bounty succours; but doth freely oft Forerun the asking. Whatsoe'er may be Of excellence in creature, pity mild, Relenting mercy, large munificence, Are all combined in thee. Here kneeleth one, Who of all spirits hath review'd the state, From the world's lowest gap unto this height. Suppliant to thee he kneels, imploring grace For virtue yet more high, to lift his ken Toward the bliss supreme. And I, who ne'er Coveted sight, more fondly, for myself, Than now for him, my prayers to thee prefer, (And pray they be not scant), that thou wouldst Each cloud of his mortality away, [drive Through thine own prayers, that on the sovran joy Unveil'd he gaze. This yet, I pray thee, Queen, Who canst do what thou wilt; that in him thou Wouldst, after all he hath beheld, preserve Affection sound, and human passions quell. Lo! where, with Beatrice, many a saint Stretch their clasp'd hands, in furtherance of my suit."

The eyes, that Heaven with love and awe regards, Fix'd on the suitor, witness'd, how benign She looks on pious prayers: then fasten'd they On the everlasting light, wherein no eye Of creature, as may well be thought, so far Can travel inward. I, meanwhile, who drew Near to the limit, where all wishes end, The ardour of my wish (for so behoved) Ended within me. Beckoning smiled the sage, That I should look aloft: but, ere he bade, Already of myself aloft I look'd; For visual strength, refining more and more, Bare me into the ray authentical Of sovran light. Thenceforward, what I saw, Was not for words to speak, nor memory's self To stand against such outrage on her skill.

As one, who from a dream awaken'd, straight, All he hath seen forgets; yet still retains Impression of the feeling in his dream; E'en such am I: for all the vision dies, As 'twere, away; and yet the sense of sweet, That sprang from it, still trickles in my heart. Thus in the sun - thaw is the snow unseal'd; Thus in the winds on flitting leaves was lost The Sibyl's sentence. O eternal beam! [soar?] (Whose height what reach of mortal thought may Yield me again some little particle Of what Thou then appearedst; give my tongue Power, but to leave one sparkle of Thy glory, Unto the race to come, that shall not lose Thy triumph wholly, if Thou waken aught Of memory in me, and endure to hear The record sound in this unequal strain.

Such keenness from the living ray I met, That, if mine eyes had turn'd away, methinks, I had been lost; but, so embolden'd, on I pass'd, as I remember, till my view Hover'd the brink of dread infinitude.

O grace, unenvying of Thy boon! that gavest Boldness to fix so earnestly my ken On the everlasting splendour, that I look'd, While sight was unconsumed, and, in that depth, Saw in one volume clasp'd of love, whate'er The universe unfolds; all properties Of substance and of accident, beheld, Compounded, yet one individual light The whole. And of such bond methinks I saw The universal form; for that whene'er I do but speak of it, my soul dilates Beyond her proper self; and, till I speak, One moment seems a longer lethargy, Than five - and - twenty ages had appear'd To that emprize, that first made Neptune wonder At Argo's shadow darkening on his flood.

With fixed heed, suspense and motionless, Wondering I gazed; and admiration still Was kindled as I gazed. It may not be, That one, who looks upon that light, can turn To other object, willingly, his view. For all the good, that will may covet, there Is summ'd; and all, elsewhere defective found, Complete. My tongue shall utter now, no more E'en what remembrance keeps, than could the babe's That yet is moisten'd at his mother's breast. Not that the semblance of the living light Was changed, (that ever as at first remain'd), But that my vision quickening, in that sole Appearance, still new miracles descried, And toil'd me with the change. In that abyss Of radiance, clear and lofty, seem'd, methought, Three orbs of triple hue, clipt in one bound:[1] And, from another, one reflected seem'd,

[1: "Three orbs of triple hue, clipt in one bound." The Trinity. This passage may be compared to what Plato, in his second Epistle, enigmatically says of a first, second, and third, and of the impossibility that the human soul should attain to what it desires to know of them, by means of anything akin to itself.]

As rainbow is from rainbow: and the third Seem'd fire, breathed equally from both. O speech! How feeble and how faint art thou, to give Conception birth. Yet this to what I saw Is less than little. O eternal Light! Sole in Thyself that dwell'st; and of Thyself Sole understood, past, present, or to come; Thou smiledst, on that circling,[2] which in Thee Seem'd as reflected splendour, while I mused; For I therein, methought, in its own hue Beheld our image painted: steadfastly I therefore pored upon the view. As one, Who versed in geometric lore, would fain Measure the circle; and, though pondering long And deeply, that beginning, which he needs, Finds not: e'en such was I, intent to scan The novel wonder, and trace out the form, How to the circle fitted, and therein How placed: but the flight was not for my wing; Had not a flash darted athwart my mind, And, in the spleen, unfolded what it sought.

[2: "That circling." The second of the circles, "Light of Light," in which he dimly beheld the mystery of the Incarnation.]

Here vigour fail'd the towering fantasy: But yet the will roll'd onward, like a wheel In even motion, by the Love impell'd, That moves the sun in Heaven and all the stars.

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